Fallen Dynasty (Dramione)

Fourteen - The Repercussions of our Actions

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Novus rex, nova lex.

New king, new rules.

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It was three days that passed before Hermione fully saw Draco again, other than quick passes in the hallway and running into rooms when she heard his presence only for him to apparate away before she could speak. She was shocked he even had the strength to apparate, but then again, this was the man who jumped continents the first night she re-met him and didn't splinch himself in half.

He was powerful, more powerful than he'd ever been. She's give him that.

He looked less brittle and frail the last time she saw him, which she was pleased about. She knew she shouldn't have done what she did. She did it too soon, out of pure selfishness, desperation, and peer pressure.

She knew the effects of pulling memories forward when they weren't ready. She and Draco did countless hours of research on the topic as they made the obliviation potions.

But, to hear her name leave his mouth.

Hermione Malfoy.

She shivered at the thought of it.

She was enjoying a cup of tea and a book on the grounds, her toes curled in the soft grass as Spring was actually starting to settle in.

She heard the footsteps behind her as she swallowed her sip, setting the book on the wrought iron table. "Tilly, I'm quite alright. You don't have to keep checking on— Oh!" She turned to see a stoic Draco there, hands behind his back and looking dashing in his black dress robes. "Draco, hello. You're looking well."

"A normal occurrence," he deadpanned, peering off into the distance as if to be as dramatic as possible, as she stifled a scoff.

"What do I owe this pleasure?" She flicked her wand and conjured up another cup of tea, just how he liked and gestured to the seat in front of her.

He raised his brow at her, weighing his options of actually sitting down with her or leaving, before he sat with a disgruntled sigh. "Fucking Potter," was all he said before he took a long sip of tea, his face relaxing as he realized he actually enjoyed it.

Hermione tensed at the name, a name she was trying to forget but he just kept weaseling his way back in. Curse him and his Chosen-One-isms.

"What about him?" She tried not to seem interested but her mildly desperate tone and the way her body leaned forward said otherwise.

"He's a pain in my ass, that's what." Draco slammed the teacup down causing a spill and a clatter that made Hermione cringe. That was their good china.

She made a nonverbal motion with her hand and the spill was cleared. She was good at that— cleaning up messes that weren't hers. "We are well aware of Harry's abilities to get on your last nerve, Draco. Now what did he do?"

"He attacked a well known Death Eater camp off of Scotland. He lost dreadfully, of course. The man isn't made for war, especially with you gone." She tried not to blush at the random compliment as he continued.