Theo breathed in a huge sigh upon seeing that the library was not decorated with puke green anymore. Lovegood and some of his house-elves had been working on covering up the mess first with a coat of white, before the interior designer started her artistic magic and painted whatever the hell she wanted.
Luna had been working for a week already and those days merely consisted of painting everything white. She clearly underestimated the vastness of the Nott Manor, and had been amusingly disgruntled when she begrudgingly admitted it would take more than a month to finish painting the library. Theo, on the other hand, was thrilled with the news.
Now, it was a Wednesday and it meant she would be in his library once more. Theo had already painstakingly explained to his secretary to cancel any plans in the afternoons of Wednesdays and Fridays to foresee the renovation of the Nott library. Simply put, his secretary - a twiggy, lovely witch - eyed him in confusion but obliged nonetheless. Theo had conveniently left the detail that perhaps it was because he wanted to see Luna Lovegood in his home. It gave his stomach some strange somersaults just thinking about it once more.
Rolling his eyes, he saw the said blonde perched on the sill of one of the high windows in the library, already starting to paint the ceiling with a coat of black. She was currently wearing a loose, white shirt, with understandable paint splashes everywhere. Her Muggle, denim pants were also not spared, and there was a particularly huge, black blob on her right knee. Her hair was held up in a bun by a paintbrush, exposing her odd ensemble of butterbeer cork necklace and radish earrings.
"You're back early," Luna said in greeting, eyes still glued on the spot she was painting.
His house-elves, a good ten of them, stopped painting to look at him and give him eager, deep bows. With a wave of dismissal from their master, they all popped away, leaving him and Luna alone. She finally looked at him in question, probably wondering why the house-elves were gone and consequently making her job more difficult today.
"I have some matters to attend to," he explained, waving his 'business props' of folders and papers. "They can be a little... noisy."
"Don't rich people like you have studies for business matters like that?" she asked, her voice soft and floaty. Luna climbed down the stairs and ditched her paintbrush to grab a treacle tart from a tray.
Theo gave a good-measured shrug. "My study's a mess," he said. "Also, I'm trying to avoid my stepmother and I know she'd steer clear off the library when she's afraid some paint would soil her perfectly manicured nails."
He then marched on one of the spared desks and sat on it. Most of the desks and bookshelves were covered with white cloth to spare them from any aberrant paints. Theo suggested before that she should just wave her bloody wand to conjure some protective barrier to preserve millions of books in the library. Luna, however, was not amused with his idea and even reminded him that she was the interior designer between the two of them.
Luna grabbed a small teacup and leaned against the closest bookshelf. That was when Theo noticed that she was barefoot, prompting him to frown.
"Where are your shoes?" he demanded. "The floor is freezing."
She shrugged, a small, dreamy smile on her face. "I work best when barefoot," she explained, wriggling her toes. "The cold doesn't bother me anyway."
"No wonder people called you 'Loony'," he muttered under his breath.
"I heard that," she sang his way, striding closer and settling on a chair two desks away from him.
Sighing, he merely brandished out his wand and pointed it at her feet. Luna flinched a little, and he faltered, but when she didn't pull out her own wand and pointed it at him, he finally muttered a warming spell. It was only after when he thought that perhaps she didn't bring her own wand. It was a stupid decision, especially if she always ventured in a house that held dark secrets that rivalled the Malfoy Manor.
Sighing in disapproval, he frowned at Luna, who merely looked back at him with a hint of amusement on her face.
Theo then mindlessly sifted through his papers, wanting to appear busy, but his eyes constantly gazed on the woman sitting a few feet away from him. He thought the paintbrush stuck through her hair was ridiculous, and he was thoroughly distracted by the black streak on her chin. It was driving him insane.
"I see you finally started painting the ceiling black," he commented.
"I still think it is too dark for a library," she pointed out, munching on her third treacle tart. "But I do have plans to amend that."
He lifted an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "And what, pray tell, are your plans?" he asked, genuinely curious.
Luna gave a dreamy smile. "Do not concern yourself about it, Theo," she assured. "Rest assured the Nott tradition will be kept, but with my few additions."
He scowled at her secrecy, but knew she'd start talking cryptically if he probed further. If he recalled clearly, Luna Lovegood liked to give metaphors and riddles back in Hogwarts and he had no time for any guessing game. Although the papers were really just props and used as an excuse to stay in the library, it had been quite a busy day and Theo wanted to rest.
"I heard about Draco," she then said, breaking the silence. "That was very brave of him."
He looked at her in surprise. "Where did you hear that?" he asked. Besides the Nott Manor, Luna hadn't stepped foot anywhere in Magical London.
Her cheeks colored a little, a small smile on her face. "I had been exchanging letters with Hermione ever since Rose's birthday," she revealed. "She gives me updates from time to time."
Theo nodded his head in understanding. "I see," he replied. "And yes, Draco was stupid enough to leave the Malfoy business to some buffoon to pursue his ministry dreams."
"I think that was very brave of him," she firmly repeated, looking at him with her wide, glassy eyes.
"Of course you'd think that," he shot back.
"Have you ever thought of leaving the Nott business to some buffoon and pursue your own dreams, then?" she innocently asked, and Theo felt himself stiffen with her question. He carefully schooled any emotions on his face and had absentmindedly clutched the reports on his hands tighter.
Had he ever thought of leaving the Nott business and pursue his own dreams?
Yes. "None of your business," he spat back, annoyed at the dangerous waters they were trudging on. He knew she knew how he started hating living in the Wizarding World ever since the conclusion of the Second War. Sometimes, it just annoyed him that she had gladly given up everything she believed in, everything she grew up in, to venture in the muggle world, free from anything magical.
He wanted to believe it was merely annoyance, but of course he knew that what he was feeling was pure envy. The pressure of the Nott business was admittedly bothersome, and sometimes he could not stand staying in this manor housing memories of his fanatical father and the Dark Arts he so loved.
Perhaps, he should follow Draco and purchase some lovely flat to finally call home. And apply to the ministry.
"I'm sorry," Luna surprisingly said. "I didn't mean to bring out the wrackspurts again."
In spite of himself, Theo laughed. "Would you believe me if I tell you your beloved wrackspurts aren't real?" he thought, secretly relieved that Luna's oddness made him marginally better.
"No," she plainly said.
"I thought so," he replied with a grin. "You are entirely bonkers, Lovegood."
She grinned widely at his words. "All the best people are," she said, finally rising up from her seat and picking up her paintbrush.
Luna started to paint once again.
Theo was contented enough to watch her.
__________
The letter was limp on his hands, clear disbelief still etched on Draco's face. He tried rereading the letter, again and again, wondering if the lights were just playing tricks on him. The scribbled 'Congratulations' seemed ominous enough, and it made him demand for Tippy to read the letter aloud to confirm (or dispute) his fears. Judging from the way Tippy had shrilly squealed and jumped up and down without even finishing the whole letter, he knew he wasn't imagining things.
He got accepted. In the ministry.
It was still wonderfully surreal, but he could not deny the excitement that had bubbled ever since he caught sight of the Ministry letter. The letter was actually a week late as what McLaggen had promised and Draco was already losing hope that he got accepted at all. He had already penned a letter to be sent to Blaise to tell him he wouldn't be assuming his position at all. Lo and behold, as he was preparing to send the letter to his former schoolmate, a ministry owl swooped down and dropped his acceptance letter.
It was like being accepted in Hogwarts all over again. Draco felt a little humbled that the ministry accepted him, despite his past misgivings, and perhaps this was his very first step to actually proving to the whole world that he wasn't his father's son.
He absentmindedly walked towards his fireplace, and it was only when he was looking at the Floo powder when he realized what he was doing. Shaking his head in disbelief, he grabbed a pinch of the magical powder, threw it to the fire, and exclaimed, "24 Pond St., Hampstead!"
The fire roared emerald and Draco stuck his head inside. He waited until Hermione lifted the wards and her living room came into focus. The said brunette crouched down so she could look at him properly, a surprised smile on her face.
"Draco!" she exclaimed. "What made you firecall tonight?"
"I got accepted," he sputtered out, the disbelief still clearly heard in his voice. "In the ministry. Blimey."
If it were more possible, her grin widened. "That's brilliant!" she gushed out. "I knew you'd – hang on." He watched as Hermione craned her neck, a disapproving look on her face. "Rose Weasley, get down from that countertop this instant!"
"Mama!" he heard Rose whine. "I'm hungry."
Hermione expelled a deep sigh and shook her head, a small smile now quirking on her lips. She looked back at Draco, her eyes lighting up with an idea. "Why don't you come over and have dinner with us?" she asked. "I overestimated and made too much for dinner tonight."
Draco looked hesitant. "I don't think" –
"Oh, posh," she flippantly said. "Come. Rose will love it if you do."
The blond frowned but knew that Hermione wouldn't take no for an answer. Sighing, he said, "All right. I'll be there in a minute."
"Brilliant."
Draco pulled his head out from the fireplace and promptly called for Tippy.
His personal house-elf instantly popped back, a questioning look on his face. "Does Master Draco wish Tippy to read the letter again?" he inquired, peering at the letter in question.
"No, no," the blond said, waving his hand dismissively. "I'll be having my dinner with Granger and Rose so you don't need to prepare a meal for me anymore."
Tippy perked up upon hearing the names of their previous guests. "Yes, Master Draco," he said, a small smile on his face. "Send Miss Hermione and Little Miss Rosie Tippy's regards." Then, he popped away even before he was dismissed.
Once Tippy was gone, Draco did some last minute errands. First, he penned a letter to the ministry acknowledging his acceptance, and then he sent another letter to Blaise to confirm that he would be stepping in for him next week once he starts working in the DIMC. Draco contemplated whether to send a letter to Theo too, but then thought it would be better to visit his friend instead.
After making sure that everything was all set, Draco threw another pinch of floo powder into the fireplace and exclaimed Granger's address. He hadn't even completely left the fireplace when Rose squealed and wrapped her arms around his middle. Draco toppled in surprise, managing to dislodge some soot from the fireplace, and consequently showering him and Rose (mostly him) with the soot and dirt. Draco horrifyingly inhaled most of them and promptly started coughing.
"Oh, Rosie, look what you've done," Hermione clucked from behind, prying Rose's arms away from Draco. She brandished her wand and cleaned them both. She also pointed her wand at Draco's nostrils and muttered a charm, instantly clearing his airways.
"Bloody hell, menace," Draco exclaimed once he could properly breathe. "You could have killed me from asphyxiation!"
"No bad words," Hermione pointed out with a frown.
Rose, on the other hand, was sheepishly looking at Draco and her mother. "I'm sorry Draco," she said with genuine regret, her eyes big, blue and shiny. "I got excited when Mama said you're coming over for dinner."
Draco rolled his eyes and sighed. "Glad to know I've been terribly missed," he muttered under his breath, glare still in place. Secretly, however, he felt a little moved that the young girl still missed him.
"So dinner?" Rose asked in hope, looking at her mother.
"Go wash your hands first," Hermione reminded.
"Okay!" Rose squealed then prompted to dash out from the living room.
Once her daughter was out of earshot, Hermione turned to Draco with a sheepish grin. "Her energy could be troublesome sometimes," she lamented. "I'm sorry about the unpleasant welcome."
Draco waved his hand dismissively then pulled out his acceptance letter from his pocket. "The more important matter here is I got accepted, Granger," he said. "In the ministry."
She looked slightly confused with his declaration. "Yes, I know," she said. "You've said."
"Ex-Death Eaters don't get accepted that easily," he reminded, prompting her to scowl.
"Have you ever heard of giving second chances to those who most need it?" she shot back, turning around and leading him into the dining area. "There are plenty of alleged Ex-Death Eaters working in the ministry, Draco. And from what I know, there had been no incident ever since they got hired."
Draco scowled and took the seat across Hermione. "Henrik McLaggen doesn't look like a person who gives second chances, Granger," he snarled back. "I'm sure if he could, he would have sent Dementors instead to escort me to Azkaban. But then, seeing that Dementors are currently banned and locked up in Merlin-knows-where, he couldn't do that. Instead, he sent me an 'acceptance letter', which might have been a trap to lure me to the ministry so he can personally escort me to Azkaban."
Hermione was looking at him in sheer disbelief. "Elaborate plan, Draco," she said, now completely amused. "I didn't know your imagination can run that wild."
His scowl darkened as he angrily pocketed the letter that may or may not be a trap. "Judging from the way he interviewed me, I honestly thought I won't be accepted so pardon me if I'm being highly suspicious."
Conflicting emotions crossed on her face and that was when Draco grew wary. Hermione avoided his piercing gaze and it just confirmed his suspicions.
"You –"
He wasn't able to complete his sentence since Rose arrived and sat on the chair beside him.
All throughout dinner, Draco was trying to catch Hermione's attention, but the brunette was sneakily diverting anything ministry-related to mundane things such as Rose's new daycare and new friends.
"I like playing with Janna, Alex, Sophie, Danielle, and Frank," Rose recounted, ticking off her fingers as she mentioned her new friends. "But Frank has a funny last name, and other kids bully him because of it. Oh, he cries easily, too and always carries his icky pet toad. It was very cute, but very icky too."
The boy was strangely reminiscent of Neville Longbottom. Hermione, seeing that look on his face, nodded her head and smiled as confirmation.
"His father is a good man," Draco seriously said, much to Hermione's surprise. "Continue your acquaintance with Frank."
He admittedly had incessantly bullied Longbottom for years, because seriously, who wouldn't with a name like that? But Draco had developed a deep respect for the Gryffindor, who bravely killed Voldemort's creepy pet snake and rendered the Dark Lord mortal once more. Neville might have been a blubbering fool to most, but he was one of the truest Gryffindor's Draco had ever seen.
Rose continued to recount her escapades all throughout dinner. Draco could see that Hermione was pleased her daughter already gained new, real friends. Based from her stories, Rose seemed well-liked in the daycare and Draco couldn't understand the pride that suddenly bloomed in his chest.
Dinner finally came to an end when Rose released a wide yawn.
"Time to sleep, love," Hermione said with a fond smile.
"Up, up," Rose sleepily said, raising her arms and wriggling her fingers. Draco smirked upon seeing Hermione's face, but the brunette nonetheless carried the growing girl into her arms.
"Blimey, you're getting heavier and heavier," Hermione said with a groan, but Rose merely chuckled and snuggled into her mother's neck. Smiling, Hermione kissed the crown of Rose's head and whispered, "Please don't grow up too fast."
Then, to Draco she said, "I'll be down in a minute."
"Maybe I should carry her instead," Draco offered, amusedly looking at her shaking arms.
"Oh, thank Merlin, that would be nice," Hermione confessed.
Rose had completely fallen asleep in her arms and thankfully didn't wake when Hermione passed her off to Draco. His eyes widened a little once the girl was settled in his arms. "You weren't kidding when you said she's getting heavier," he said, placing Rose into a comfortable position.
"She grows up every day," the brunette mournfully revealed. "I fear that when I wake up tomorrow, she'd be eleven with a Hogwarts letter at hand."
Draco rolled his eyes. "You still have five years to coddle your daughter, Granger," he shot back. "No need to get dramatic."
Hermione merely sadly smiled and ushered him to follow her upstairs. She opened Rose's bedroom and Draco still had to take some time to adjust with the bright colors in the little girl's room.
"You really need to do something about her room," Draco pointed out. "I don't even know how you can come inside without getting nauseous."
Hermione softly laughed as Draco placed Rose on her bed. "I finally found a solution," she reassured. "Turns out Luna had been working as an interior designer in the Muggle world. She said she has some ideas on how to stop Rose's accidental magic from turning her bedroom into a monstrous masterpiece. Currently, she's handling another project, so I'm afraid she will only be able to work on it a few months from now."
Draco lifted an eyebrow. "Lovegood as an interior designer?" he said with a frown. "But... she has eccentric tastes."
Hermione glared in offense. "She was actually a pretty good painter back in Hogwarts and I always thought she'd be a successful one," she defended. "Get that ridiculous notion off your head."
"All right, all right, Merlin, we weren't even close," he muttered with a roll of his eyes.
"Mama?" Rose suddenly said from her bed. Hermione's eyes widened and shot an accusatory glare towards Draco, fully blaming him for waking up her daughter.
"What is it?" Hermione said, striding closer to her daughter's bed so that Rose could see her.
A soft yawn tore from Rose's mouth as she snuggled deeper under her covers. "Can you sing to me?" she whispered.
Despite the soft light in Rose's room, Draco was able to see a small blush appear on Hermione's face.
"Err... sure love," she said, craning her head to look at the blond. She expectantly looked at Draco, and it took him a minute to understand what she was nonverbally trying to convey.
"Embarrassed that I'll hear your voice, Granger?" he asked with a smirk.
"Go away, Malfoy."
Rolling his eyes, perhaps for the nth time, Draco sighed. "Fine," he said. "I'll be downstairs."
Hermione nodded her head in reply, then turned back to her daughter.
Draco quietly walked out from Rose's room, fully intending to eavesdrop. If Granger was embarrassed he would hear her sing, he needed something to incessantly tease her in the future. It was too tempting not to eavesdrop. Thus, as a Slytherin, he was a sneaky bastard, and he conveniently left the door slightly ajar to listen.
Thankfully, Hermione didn't take notice for he hadn't heard any footsteps or a snarling Granger at the other side of the room.
"Somewhere over the rainbow way up high."
He stood frozen on the spot, his jaw hanging open. Well, he wasn't expecting that.
"There's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby."
Draco found himself softly smiling in disbelief. Of course, he should have expected that. Granger always surprised him.
"Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue. And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true."
He didn't realize that Hermione's lullaby had already ended. The said witch opened the door and walked out of Rose's bedroom, immediately seeing him leaning against the wall beside the door.
Her eyes widened in surprise. "You were listening!" she whispered furiously, her cheeks reddening into a magnificent shade of red.
Draco lifted his pointy chin. "I was not," he perfectly lied. "I forgot something, so I went back upstairs."
"Liar," she grumbled when Draco turned around and immediately walked down the stairs. "You didn't even come inside to get whatever you forgot."
"Oh, give it a rest, Granger," he snapped, rolling his eyes at how she fumed. "And since we're on the topic of accusing things at each other, you did something about my interview with the ministry, didn't you?"
The annoyance in her eyes disappeared, replaced by sheer sheepishness. She didn't need to answer anything to know what the truth was, really.
"Don't you dare lie because I can see it in your eyes," he warned, glaring when he could see the gears whirring inside her mind, probably to formulate an elaborate lie.
"Fine, all right, I may have done something," she said, crossing her arms across her chest defensively. "Henrik McLaggen is an unfair prat and I don't think you deserve to be mindlessly set aside because of your past. I mean, damn it all, Draco, I can see you trying to change and it makes my blood boil how people already closed their minds off the fact that people change. That you have changed."
He was stunned into silence, eyes wide, heart beating a little too wildly, as he stared at the bushy-haired witch opposite him.
Hermione's fiery eyes softened a bit upon seeing the look on his face. "Besides, I'm a bloody war heroine, Draco," she said with a small smile. "I think my opinions matter to the ministry. It took me a while before I finally convinced them that you need a second chance."
Draco couldn't help but slightly sneer. "Bad people do not deserve any second chances," he muttered under his breath.
To his surprise, Hermione reached out for his hand and gave it a slight squeeze. "I don't think someone who enjoys amusement parks and cries over cartoons can be classified as a bad person."
His cheeks reddened. "I didn't cry," he protested back, pulling his hand away.
"All right, keep telling that to yourself," she said with a triumphant grin.
He glared, prompting her to chuckle.
"Just... just accept it, Draco. Go to work, prove them all wrong," she continued with a strange glint in her eyes. "I think... I think you're brilliant and I'm tempted to punch you on your nose again just to put some sense in that thick head of yours."
His glare melted, now softly gazing at her. "I..." he faltered, cheeks coloring, but he couldn't look away from her eyes. "Thank you, Granger."
She gently smiled at him and shooed him away, declaring that it had actually been a particularly tiring day for them all.
Bidding her goodnight, Draco walked towards the fireplace and grabbed a pinch of the floo powder. Instead of going straight home, he stumbled into Nott Manor.
"Master Draco," Stimpy, the oldest house-elf of the Nott family, greeted with a deep bow. "What brings you here?"
"Is Theo here?" Draco asked.
Stimpy nodded. "Stimpy will alert Master Theodore with your presence, Master Draco," he said, promptly disappearing. He reappeared after just a few seconds. "Master Theodore expects you in the Nott library."
Draco said his thanks and journeyed to the library. He slightly shivered, remembering some not-so-pleasant memories in this place. Although considerably cheerier than his childhood home, the Nott Manor still held a lot of bad memories. Draco wondered how Theo could still stomach living here, knowing that Voldemort once had a sleepover in his own home.
Those thoughts were pushed at the back of his mind as he finally arrived in the library. Upon entering, Draco took a brief double take at the half-finished state of the Nott library. The puke green color it once sported was thankfully gone, replaced by a room of half-white, half-black paint. Theo was perched on one of the desks at the white side of the library, a book at hand.
"What brings you here in the middle of the night?" Theo called out with a frown. There was some underlying worry in his eyes, prompting Draco to shake his head.
"I got accepted in the ministry."
The mousy-haired man placed his book on the table and lifted an eyebrow. "For real?" he asked, mildly surprised. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I've always thought your plan was doomed to fail from the very start."
Draco gave him a dark glare. "Well, it was nice to know you have so much faith in me, Nott," he snarled back.
Theo rolled his eyes, watching as Draco sauntered closer and sat on the table in front of Theo's. "I told you not to take it the wrong way, you bastard," he snapped.
"Apparently, the ministry is big on giving second chances and shite," Draco replied.
"I didn't take Henrik McLaggen as the giving-second-chances type."
"Exactly." The blond crossed his arms across his chest and frowned. "Granger did something and now I'm bloody hired."
To his surprise, Theo snickered.
"What?" he demanded.
"Hermione Granger, War Heroine Extraordinaire, Champion of the Poor and Downtrodden," Theo declared. "You should have expected this."
"I'm going to assure you that I am most certainly not poor," Draco said with an arrogant sniff. The downtrodden part, well...
Theo sighed and leaned against the desk, copying Draco's posture. "Granger's a bleeding Gryffindor at heart," he said. "You know how she'd do everything she could for the people she cared about."
Draco frowned at Theo's words. "She doesn't care about me," he shot back. "She's only doing this to repay my kindness for taking care of her daughter."
His best friend rolled his eyes and sighed. "You're really obtuse, Draco, do you know that?" he replied. "If you think she's merely repaying your kindness, then I don't think it is necessary she invites you for dinner, yeah?"
Draco couldn't think of a decent reply, silenced by Theo's troublesome words. He had thought about this too, of course. He kept on convincing himself that Hermione was just being kind because he took care of Rose while she was away. They'd been partners during missions and had been reluctant acquaintances. It's too farfetched to think that she somehow, probably, saw him as a friend now, wasn't it?
But then, he'd remember her dinner invites, their banters that were nowhere near dangerous, and how she seemed to bring her guard down every time he was around. She even pointed quite a few times that she considered him a friend, but Draco sometimes thought she was just being too polite.
"I don't know why you're still in denial, Draco," Theo finally said, snapping him off his thoughts. "I know how the war made us different people, but I think you deserve to be happy, too, you know."
His words held too much meaning and Draco wasn't ready to acknowledge anything yet. "This conversation is getting ridiculous, Nott," he growled, pushing himself away from the desk. "I'm leaving."
He stomped away from the library, but apparently Theo wasn't finish.
"Why can't you just bloody admit you've been in love with her all these years?" his best friend exclaimed, prompting him to stop in his tracks. "It's fucking annoying seeing you dance around your feelings, Draco. Breaking news, the war has bloody ended, Ronald Weasley is bloody dead, and you're being invited over to dinner, damn it. I've watched from the sidelines and all I can say is you've waited for her for too long. What the hell is stopping you now?"
"Shut up, Nott, if you know what's good for you," Draco snarled. Theo threw his arm above his head but had thankfully kept his mouth shut as Draco stomped away and flooed back home.
His head had hurt when he threw himself on top of his bed. Draco didn't even bother changing his clothes, his ears still ringing from Theo's ridiculous words.
He had congratulated himself for not thinking about his feelings ever since he started becoming a Death Eater. Feelings were dangerous if you were working under Voldemort. It was a weakness; something Draco had masterfully masked away to keep the Dark Lord from hurting the people he truly cared about. But now... now Theo's words had released a huge dam he couldn't contain anymore.
"Holy shite," he murmured against his pillow, realizing he was in too deep already.
Damn it all, now he didn't know what to do.