About Last Night

Enter Remorse

Daphne Greengrass was not someone people would call trustworthy—conniving, determined mogul who would do and say anything for a good story, yes—but this time she had been absolutely right: the world did lose their shit. The morning her Special Edition of Witch Weekly appeared on the stands with a picture of Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger (sharing a rather intimate moment) on the cover...Well, the title Forbidden Love: A Granger-Malfoy Union seemed accurate in describing the frenzy that followed. News of any important, urgent value was discarded to gossip about this impossible romance, independent wireless radio stations took callers to speculate on this new marriage (there were several thousands of people who agreed Hermione had been kidnapped, forced, or betrothed to Draco, for it could simply not be love the reason for such a union), and it awakened the monster that was the paparazzi.

After Greengrass and her photographer had snapped picture after consecutive picture before Hermione or Draco could react to her intrusion, Hermione foolishly assumed they had nothing to worry about. People certainly had much more pressing matters to worry about than a relationship between two strangers. Of course, these strangers were Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger—just because she failed taking note on how famous she was did not mean the Wizardying World was not pressed on knowing her every move. As a result, she was more than appalled that Monday morning when she was not allowed to stroll through the front doors of St. Mungo's as she usually did after a coffee run at her favorite bakery. Blaise (Auror Zabini, actually, since he was on the job) and two other Aurors waited for her at the entrance, alongside a gang of reporters who began to hurl obscene speculations and invasive questions at her the second she crossed their line of sight.

"You're joking," she hissed at Blaise, pulling at her arm as his hand circled her wrist, leading her inside the building as the other Aurors controlled the mob behind them. "You're playing bodyguard under Harry's orders? Blaise! This is insane!"

Blaise rolled his eyes as he continued to lead her down to her office. "You know I go wherever the Head Auror sends me, but this time I volunteered."

"Why?" she huffed, but allowed him to push her past her office's door.

"I know a thing or two about being flagged down by ruthless paparazzi," he said with a shrug, looking away from her when her brown, warm eyes lessened in severity (Hermione had never asked about his past, but Blaise was aware she knew how unstable his life had been during his mother's trial). After checking to make sure her window was secure (and casting a good charm on it to repel any mental reporters who tried levitating a few floors up), Blaise added, "I told Draco he was on his own with this mess, but I didn't say I would not be there for you. If protection is all I can offer, then just take it, Hermione."

Hermione reached for his hand, squeezing gently, but said, "My marriage is not a mess."

"Isn't it?" Blaise laughed. "Hell, the world is upside down because of it. You know what they're saying? That you and Draco have been lovers since your Hogwarts days. Forbidden love during time of war, meeting in the aisles of the library, you begging him not to take the Dark Mark."

Hermione snorted loudly, releasing his hand as she made way to her desk. "Greengrass has quite the imagination, I'll give her that."

"It's amusing," he agreed, "but it isn't to Weasley. He punched the reporter who asked him how he felt about your affair with Draco while you two were together."

Looking up from her stack of patient files, Hermione narrowed her eyes at Blaise, waiting for him to say he was lying. He wasn't. She sighed. "Ron knows that isn't true. The media made the same speculations about him and Pansy. He's just upset that it's Draco whom I'm in a relationship with."