He was finally understanding everything he had been missing this whole time.
His father, Voldemort, the war, had not only taken away the last two years of his life and youth.
The sick and foolish ideals they had instilled into his head made him spend years without realizing how Hermione Granger was, in fact, one of the most beautiful witches to have ever trod the soil of Britain. And despite the years he had spent despising and hating her for no real reason, now that he found himself in bed with her, fully naked, he vowed that he would never again spend a single second without truly appreciating her.
How could the whole world not notice? How could that idiot of Ron Weasley have let her slip through his fingers?
If there was one thing he was certain of, it was that he would not make such a mistake.
As the first rays of dawn began to light up the room through the curtains, his mind, never more clear-headed than it had been that night, began to think about what his next step would be. Surely Hermione wouldn't want him to leave, right?
He turned his gaze towards her, observing the profile of her shoulders and her tousled hair.
The rhythm of her breathing became faster and faster and she woke up. He waited with bated breath for her to turn towards him, hesitantly watching her brown eyes.
When her lips curved into a smile, a sense of lightness and relief invaded his chest, making him feel dizzy.
"Good morning," Hermione said, her lips spreading wide.
He moved closer to her, brushing his lips over her bare shoulder, and started to deposit small kisses along the outline of her collarbone.
"Good morning to you, Hermione."
"What are you doing today?" he asked hesitantly, watching her leave the bathroom with her wet hair falling down her shoulders. He bit his lip, holding the instinct to drag her back to bed.
His abandoned instincts had awakened with an entirely new fury and urgency. Perhaps he was recovering from years of repressed hormonal storms all at once.
Hermione squinted, and he thought of a not-too-shameless way to convince her to spend the rest of the day with him.
"I was thinking about going back to the Ministry," she said, looking out the window and leaving it open for the owl that would be carrying the copy of the paper with her interview. "They have no real reason to prevent me from going there. They can only hinder my work in other ways."
Her gaze became sad, and Draco felt the instinct to do something, anything, to make her smile again.
He sprang to his feet. "Well, you might as well take the day off and come back tomorrow, right? That way you can give everyone time to read the article properly."
Hermione walked to the small kitchen, handling some utensils whose function he could not understand. She bit the inside of her cheek, pondering his proposal.
Come on, Hermione he thought. Let them marinate in shock a little
She turned to him, smiling, and a strange gray tool, in the shape of a small metal ball, slipped from her hands. He reached down to pick it up and hand it to her.
"What are you trying to make?" he asked, pointing to the object in her hand.
"A coffee," she replied, as if it was obvious.
"Why don't we go out for breakfast? Or for lunch. Whatever you feel like doing on this last day of freedom before going back to work."
She wrinkled her eyebrows with a thoughtful expression.
"What is it, Hermione? Shoot," he said, hoping to encourage her to be honest.
What did he have to do to show her that she could trust him?
"I wouldn't want you to waste your time. I don't know if you have anything else to do..."
Draco's reply took a few seconds to come.
"I had no intention of going back to my house anyway," he merely said, shrugging.
Then he caressed his jumper, trying to hide the slight creases that had formed on it after the night crumpled in an armchair - a fate he didn't regret at all.
Hermione's face lit up, more than it already was, and a few minutes later he found himself sitting in a warm muggle coffee-shop, a steaming mug in front of her and an empty saucer in front of him, on top of which lay the remains of one of the tastiest croissants he had ever eaten. So good that for a moment he even forgot about the witch sitting in front of him, and that was saying a lot.
"Where are you going?" asked Hermione as he stood up.
"To get two more," he replied, pointing to the empty plates and walking towards the counter before she could stop him.
The thing he loved most about the Muggle world was the fact that no one paid any attention to them. No eyes followed him or her as soon as they entered a room. No one seemed to cringe at the sight of his blond hair, no silence suddenly fell when he passed a group of people.
"What are you thinking?"
Hermione's words brought him out of his thoughts as soon as he resumed his seat. He raised an eyebrow. "Curious that it's you asking me something like that. Can't you find out?"
Hermione shrugged. "I can't feel anything now, thanks to your lessons. And it's always been harder with you."
"It's a bit of a waste though, isn't it?"
"Maybe."
The answer surprised and intrigued him at the same time. "You have a great gift. You could use it for your work."
Hermione chewed slowly for a few seconds, measuring his words. "Maybe you're right."
He smiled. "Do you want to try?"
"Right now?"
"Why not?" He looked around the small bar. He fingered an elderly man at a table not far from them, intent on reading the newspaper.
"Let go of your barriers, and try to focus only on him, leaving everything else out."
"How do you know all these things?"
"Severus," he replied, watching her eyes shift from pure curiosity to something deeper. "His lessons weren't just practical. He made me study text after text on occlumency, and legilimancy often went hand in hand."
"Wow." Her mouth was slightly open, and he struggled to focus on what she was saying and not on the curve of her upper lip.
"And these texts..."
"They can be found at the Manor. In the library. I could let you have them."
Her eyes lit up. "Really?"
"Sure"
He wished he could just take her there and lose himself with her among the shelves, watching her expressions aisle after aisle. Maybe he could do it. His parents hardly ever entered the library, the chances of them finding out were almost nil.
He brought his eyes back to her. "I'll get you all the books you want." From the way her pupils dilated, he knew he had impressed her.
"Do you still want to give it a try?"
Hermione returned her gaze to the man he had pointed to earlier, nodding.
"Why not, right?"
She closed her eyes.
Draco watched her with bated breath, studying every inch of her face. After a few seconds, he could see her eyes moving left and right under her half-closed eyelids.
"What do you hear, Hermione?"
"I don't hear," she said, keeping her eyes closed. "I see."
"What do you mean?"
He took another bite of his brioche, studying the girl sitting across from him, the movement of her eyeballs and the way her breathing quickened.
Hermione slowly opened her eyes again. "I could see it."
"You need to be more specific, I'm not following you."
"The newspaper. I was reading it. It was like I was seeing through his eyes. Is that possible?"
She searched his gaze, as if he had the answers, but try as he might, he couldn't remember reading anything like that.
"Apparently so," he replied. "It's brilliant."
Hermione's expression turned serious and her lips curved downwards. "I think it's time to get back to work."
"You need to make them pay," he said, extending a hand towards hers on the small coffee table. That gesture was so natural, and far more intimate than what they had shared the previous evening.
Hermione sighed at his touch, but did not retract her hand. "I wish I knew how".
"Don't think I'm flattering you," he said, smiling and noticing with pleasure that the smile reflected on her lips, "but besides being the brightest witch of your age, heroine of the wizarding world, company of Merlin and all that-"
"Order of Merlin."
"Exactly," he continued, shaking his head. "On top of all that, you also have a fantastic gift that no one knows about. Think of how you could use it to your advantage. Don't tell me you've never thought about it, Granger, because I wouldn't believe it."
"Only recently."
That mischievous smile was now so clear on her face he could have painted it.
"Then come back, and do what you must. They've been playing dirty with you for far too long."
Hermione tightened her hand against his.
"And if you ever need an advisor, I know just the person for you."
Hermione frowned. "You say that as if it bothers you."
"Oh, it bothers me a lot" he sighed, "but I recognise the cleverness of it."
"Well, I'll need all the help I can get, won't I?"
***
Theodore Nott.
The strategist Draco was referring to was Theodore Nott.
Hermione racked her brain to remember if she had ever interacted with him during her years at Hogwarts, but nothing in particular leapt to her memory.
"Are you sure it won't be weird?" she asked as Draco reluctantly slipped into the fireplace.
"Not at all," he said, holding out his hand.
She grasped it and stepped in after him. "Maybe it's not appropriate to show up unannounced. What if he has something else to do?"
Behind her in the small space, she heard him snort. Then one of his hands rested against her side and Hermione held her breath.
As the flames dissipated, she found herself standing in front of a large hall, different from what she would have expected.
This room was warm, elegant but cozy, with a small sofa in front of the fireplace, two armchairs and several chairs around it. In front of it was a small coffee table strewn with newspapers and books, haphazardly arranged one on top of the other.
At the far end of the room was a long table, on top of which were several glasses and rather old-looking bottles. At one end, sitting with his feet dangling from the chair, was a small elf with the biggest eyes she had ever seen. On his feet were two socks, one red and one green, and on his head a hat that sat on his folded ears.
At the other end, with his feet on the table and his face hidden behind the latest edition of The Quibblers, sat Theodore Nott.
Draco coughed to get his attention, but the boy remained behind his paper. "Make yourself comfortable, I'll finish reading Hermione Granger's interview and I'll join you."
"Speaking of Granger," Draco continued.
"What?" he replied, turning the page without lifting his gaze. "Don't tell me you finally did it."
"Theo," called back the blond.
Theo finally set the paper aside, and nearly fell out of his chair.
"Oh my-" he stood up, causing his gaze to dart between her and his friend.
"Sorry," Hermione mumbled as she lowered her gaze, turning to Draco and whispering under her breath. "Maybe we shouldn't have come like this."
"Oh not at all."
Theo advanced towards her, shaking his head,
"Don't ever think that. I'm just surprised Draco brought you here, but don't feel uncomfortable. You may not know me well but Draco tells me so much about you that I feel I already know you. You will therefore forgive me for my overconfidence."
Hermione felt the blood in her veins rush to her cheeks, but she made an effort to ignore the comment Theo had made about how much Draco talked about her, focusing instead on Draco's hand on her lower back as he guided her to take a seat on the sofa in front of the fireplace.
After she and Draco had explained to the boy every single detail of the situation she had been subjected to at the ministry, and after allowing the boy enough time to swallow it all down along with a few glasses of whiskey, Theo's brain kicked into gear.
The young man pulled out newspaper articles from over a year ago, losing himself in an account of all that was petty, strategic and political, pointing out small but relevant details to Hermione that she had never paid attention to.
They spent quite some time like this, Theo expounding and the two of them listening, lost and captivated by his words, until Draco asked the fateful question.
"What do you advise her to do, now that she's going back to the ministry?"
Theo was silent for a few seconds, frowning.
"I believe in these days that you have been absent, the situation of your work has precipitated," he picked up the newspaper from two days ago, the one on the cover of which she and Draco were featured. "And now they will have further reasons to row against you. They can say it out loud, but it will be implicit in every no, in every rejection. Until they find a way to put this relationship down on paper too and take you down with it".
He took a sip from his glass, and Hermione felt Draco stiffen beside her.
"I'm sorry Granger, but unless Draco has some secret spy in the Ministry, who can find out something that would allow you to publicly discredit them the same way, I'm afraid you didn't get a good deal with this one."
All three were silent for a few seconds, while Hermione bit her lip thoughtfully.
"What if we had something like that instead?"
Draco, at her side, gasped, while Theo narrowed his eyes, peering at them both curiously.
'Do you want to reveal that, Hermione?
"You think it's not a good idea?" she whispered, in a voice low enough for only Draco to understand her words.
I... no, I think it's the right thing to do. You can trust him, but you should only do it if you're sure of it.
"I think it's time for the people around me to know."
Theo coughed, as if to remind the two of them of his presence. Draco snorted, perhaps holding back a laugh.
This is going to be fun.
She took a deep breath.
"It's a long story, Theo" she started, getting her hands under knees to stop them from trembling. "But we have something like that. I can-".
She stumbled, and Draco's hand was on her knee, reassuring her with a warm caress. "I can read minds".
Theo remained silent.
He stared at Hermione, then at Draco, then back at Hermione.
He seemed to go on for a while before he finally opened his mouth wide.
"I- no..." he stood up, walking back and forth in front of the fireplace.
"You what?"
She opened her mouth to speak but the Slytherin blocked her.
"That is absolutely the most extraordinary thing I have ever heard," he said, or rather screamed.
Hermione gasped at that reaction, and Draco at her side began to laugh. She shifted her gaze to him, distracted for a moment by that sound. It was maybe the first time she had heard him laugh genuinely, with his perfectly white teeth exposed and... he had dimples, at the corners of his lips. They made him look much younger.
Theo's attention shifted to his friend.
"Is that why you were getting more and more distant? Oh for Salazar and Merlin." He then turned to Hermione. "Can you read my mind? Have you been doing it all this time?"
Strangely, he didn't seem horrified by this. He seemed, in fact, amused.
"No," she replied. "Thanks to Draco, I can decide whose mind to read and when. I can control it".
Theo sighed. "That's crazy, really, wow."
Hermione couldn't help but smile. "So you think it might be useful against my bosses at the ministry?"
"Useful?" smiled the boy in turn, further mussing his hair with one hand. "Oh my god, you can turn them inside out."
The conversation went on for a long time, so long that she didn't realize how much time had passed. The clock suggested it was well into the night.
Having confessed her secret, albeit to a person she did not know until that moment, had made her feel lighter.
Perhaps it was time to reveal it to her friend too, to Ginny and Harry, so as to finally explain the reason for her estrangement of the last few months. Yes, she would do that. They deserved an explanation from her.
Draco, by her side, seemed unusually relaxed, comfortable like if he was at home. He didn't participate much in the conversation, letting her and Theo do most of the talking. However, she knew he wasn't taking his eyes off her, feeling his gaze burning her skin.
"Maybe it's time to go," Hermione finally said as the clock struck midnight.
She was a little tired from all of the talking and scheming, but that wasn't the main reason why she couldn't wait to go home.
Theo stood up. "Granger, you are always welcome here. As far as I'm concerned, you could take the whole east wing of the manor."
She smiled as he grabbed her hand to help her get up from the couch. Acting overly theatrical, like the first time she had seen him at the ministry for Lucius's trial, Theo bent down and kissed her knuckles.
Are you blushing, Hermione? For real?
Theo brought his gaze towards Draco, a mischievous smile on his face. Then he turned to her again.
"'It's been a pleasure".
"The pleasure was mine, Theo" she replied, unable to hold back a smile at the lightness she felt in her chest.
'The pleasure was yours, hmm?
They walked towards the fireplace, and Draco's hand seemed to burn against her lower back as he accompanied her.
Before the flames enveloped them, carrying them back to her flat, she felt his warm breath against her neck.
His lips came close to her ear, soft like silk on her sensitive skin.
"Tonight I'll show you real pleasure".