Unlike the previous evening, Draco eagerly anticipated this dinner with another couple. Well, somewhat. Apprehensively anticipated was probably more accurate.
True, he looked forward to finally introducing someone in his life to Hermione. He had an inkling that Theo and Hermione would hit it off. The two of them hadn't really interacted much at Hogwarts, and if Hermione could give Draco enough of a chance to date him after all their murky history, then surely she'd be willing to be friendly to Theo. It certainly couldn't be as awkward as the dinner they'd had with Potter and his wife last night. Draco cringed as he recalled how much he'd foolishly revealed to his former foe. How dare that bespectacled git make Draco justify his intentions toward Granger?
Still, Draco had to admit, it could have gone much, much worse. Potter seemed to begrudgingly accept Draco's presence in Hermione's life by the end of the meal, so he must have done something right.
Draco would try to extend the same understanding that Hermione had shown last night. If things became a bit tense between her and Theo, he'd exercise patience. He also hoped he didn't bungle things for his friend. Draco visited a Muggle coffee shop every day, and he and Hermione often spent time in the Muggle world together, but none of those instances required Draco to interact personally with a Muggle person for an extended period of time, or force him to talk about himself without breaking the Statute of Secrecy.
Merlin, how did Theo do this all the time? How did he completely avoid talking about the magical world? Hermione, clever Muggleborn witch she was, had already briefed Draco on the backstories she'd invented for the evening. Hermione tweaked her job description to that of policy advisor to the government, advocating on behalf of animal and environmental rights. Draco's career became an asset and estate manager, a function he performed anyway as sole heir to his family's fortune. Hermione reasoned that finding a sporting equivalent to quidditch in the Muggle world would be too complicated, and the learning curve too steep for Draco to convincingly lie about being a talent scout for football, cricket, or rugby (he made a mental note to ask Hermione about these later, because they actually did sound intriguing).
Hermione also spent most of the day listing off words and phrases Draco would have to avoid: Merlin, Muggles, Salazar, Slytherin, Gryffindor, etc. It felt rather like preparing for an exam, but with much higher stakes.
A lot of factors were in play tonight, and one false move could mean blowing his friend's cover. Draco did not wish to be the party responsible for mucking up Theo's happiness. If all else failed, he would remain mostly silent and let Granger do the talking.
As they approached the restaurant, Draco felt Hermione tense, her shoulders up around her ears. He trailed his hand up her arm to get her attention.
"All right there?"
She gave Draco a tight smile and admitted, "I just hope things aren't too weird... I don't really know Theo and I know it's silly of me to want to impress him, but if he still thinks of me the way he knew me from Hogwarts, then I'm worried—"
"Granger, stop. Trust me, Theo's going to love you."
I love you.
That pesky thought had been cropping up at an alarming rate the more time Draco spent in Hermione's presence. Successfully preventing it from once again leaving his mouth, Draco nodded his head toward the restaurant. Hermione nodded as well, and let out a last nervous exhale before continuing inside the busy establishment.
Sasha came as something of a surprise. Sitting beside Theo, the pair cut a very striking picture, almost a study in opposites. Theo was thin to the point of appearing stretched, his skin as pale as Draco's, with small, dark eyes and wavy brown hair, a man coiled with tense energy. The woman beside him had dark skin, half of her kinky black curls held back with barrettes, and her large amber eyes glowed preternaturally in the low lighting of the restaurant, her posture exuding barely suppressed delight. When Theo spotted them, his face twitched slightly in apprehension followed by a wry grin. As he gave her a light nudge and gestured toward Draco and Hermione, Sasha's face split into a gigantic smile that showcased her bright teeth.
"Is that them!?" Sasha's voice carried across the restaurant. When Theo nodded, Sasha bolted up from her chair and met them halfway to the table, seemingly unable to contain her excitement. Draco barely had time to steady himself before she wrapped her arms around his middle in an exuberant hug.
"Oh my gosh, it's so wonderful to finally meet you both!"
She released a startled Draco from her clutches and promptly embraced Hermione.
"Oh, you too," Hermione managed weakly, clearly also surprised by this woman's enthusiastic greeting. For a moment Draco worried that Muggle behavioral standards included this type of touchy-feely display regularly, but it seemed Theo's girlfriend may be an outlier based on Hermione's reaction.
"Love, I don't know about Granger, but I know for a fact that Draco is not the hugging type," came Theo's teasing voice from the table.
"Right, sorry," Sasha threw them an apologetic smile. "Theo told me to tone it down for the evening, but I'm ever so pleased to finally meet friends of his for a change. I don't know why he's been hiding you all for so long!"
Theo stood as they approached the table and shook Draco's hand with an amused smirk. Draco had an inkling what his friend found so funny, and if he were being honest, the situation was objectively absurd. Draco Malfoy with Hermione Granger on his arm and Theodore Nott courting a Muggle. Lucius and Theodore Nott, Sr. would have spontaneously combusted on the spot.
"Granger, it's been awhile," Theo stated nervously and inclined his head politely at Hermione, his smirk giving way to a tight, guilty smile.
"Hello, good to see you again," responded Hermione, answering with her own nervous smile.
Theo stood to pull out Sasha's chair as Draco did the same for Hermione. Some pureblood habits die hard.
"And I haven't been hiding them, I told you, love, these two travel quite often for work. I can barely get this one out to the pub anymore," Theo insisted, jerking his head towards Draco.
"So Draco—am I saying that right?" Draco nodded and she pressed on excitedly. "Sorry, you've no idea how fun it is to be on the other side of this. My family are from Ghana, you see, and though I got off lightly in the name department—Sasha is fairly common, I'd say—I've got loads of family with traditional Ghanaian names and I can't tell you how often they hear 'what a unique name, how do you pronounce that again?' So at least my parents spared me that." She said all of this very fast and then turned her attention to Hermione.
"And Hermione, now that is definitely a first! Did your parents name you after A Winter's Tale?"
Draco turned to the witch by his side curiously. Hermione was an odd (and lovely, in his opinion) name, but he'd no idea of its origin.
"Yes! My mum read it at university and the name always stuck with her. You're the first person I've met who knew the reference. Is that your favorite work by Shakespeare?"
"Goodness no, I can't stand any of it, sorry. My mum's a professor of English literature so I was forced into reading a lot of classics from a young age. Despite her best efforts, I was never much of a book lover."
Theo groaned, "Good lord, Sasha, if there was one thing you could have said to make Granger not like you, it was to say you don't enjoy reading."
Draco let out an amused chuckle, but felt Hermione tense beside him, unused as she was, to Theo's good-natured humor.
Sasha shrugged, unapologetic. "This is why my mum loves him. I leave the two of them alone for five minutes and they're all 'Thackeray was terribly overrated, don't you agree' and my dad and I try to keep our eyes from rolling out of our heads."
The sommelier approached then and after Sasha confirmed with the rest that wine was acceptable, she conducted a conversation in perfect French while Theo looked on, admiration in his eyes.
"Merci beaucoup," she trilled as the sommelier poured everyone a glass. "Thanks for humoring me tonight, I went to school with the sous chef here, so I was able to get us a table. Theo's always taking me to these posh places and I thought I'd return the favor and try and impress you lot."
Draco arched an eyebrow as Hermione let loose another nervous laugh. "I'll admit, I was a bit intimidated. My parents have been on the waitlist for a reservation for a few months I think."
After placing their meal orders, Sasha jumped right into her interrogation. Draco braced himself. Merlin, were all Muggle women this bubbly? This inquisitive? It seemed her and Theo weren't just polar opposites in the physical sense, but also personality wise.
"I'm saying sorry in advance, but I have so many questions for you two!"
"About?" asked Draco warily.
"Theo of course! You're the first people from his life I'm meeting! What was he like at school?"
Oh, right. Theo Nott, wealthy, lonely orphan. Draco made a mental note to not mention the currently very alive Lady Cordelia Nott.
Draco sipped his wine thoughtfully. "Well, I've known him since birth, really. Our families were old friends." He noticed Theo shoot him a pleading look, but Draco wasn't about to disappoint his friend. Theo had saved his arse too many times in recent years.
"Theo was a very serious student and I was a little more, shall we say, careless about my study habits. I fell in with a... less responsible crowd, but Theo was kind enough to rekindle our friendship after graduation." Graduation being a solo act for Draco, as he'd earned his degree from home. He blithely wondered how Theo achieved his NEWTs and mentally filed away the question for a later date. What else had Draco never bothered to learn about his friend?
Theo seemed to unwind slightly at Draco's sincerity. "Ugh, I knew he was a total bookworm," teased Sasha and Draco held back a gag at the sight of his normally stoic friend exchanging a loving smile with his girlfriend. If they started snogging at the table, he had no qualms about making a hasty exit.
Theo slung an arm around Sasha's shoulders. "Me? Please. I had absolutely nothing on Granger here. She was top of our year, every year, you know, absolutely no one could come close."
Hermione flushed prettily in surprise at Theo's compliment. "Oh! Umm, thank you Theo."
"Were you two boarding school sweethearts?" Sasha asked suddenly, gesturing between Draco and Hermione.
Before either Draco or Hermione could so much as open their mouths, Theo burst out in uproarious laughter. It took him several minutes to calm down, while Draco glared and Hermione bit back a grin.
"What's so funny?" asked Sasha.
"Yes, Theo, I fail to find the humor here, perhaps you've had quite enough wine this evening," drawled Draco.
Theo wiped the corner of his eye. "You—you don't understand. These—these two... absolutely loathed one another at school," he gasped out. "I mean, no one would ever—ever—think that these two could possibly end up together."
"Thank you so very much, Theodore, what a lovely thing to say," Draco grit out irritably.
"Quit laughing Theo, Jesus." Sasha swatted his shoulder. "Oh, but this is even more romantic! Forbidden love!"
Theo only laughed harder at that and to Draco's dismay Hermione joined in. "Oh, lighten up Malfoy," teased Hermione and put a placating hand on his arm. "We've only been dating for two months."
"So you were enemies at school, what changed?" inquired Sasha.
War. Torture. Death. Destruction. Addiction. Redemption. Friendship. Love. I am okay with this.
Draco met Theo's eyes anxiously and turned to Hermione in a panic, but she only smiled up at him, the cold dread that had threatened to seep into his soul burned away by the warmth in her eyes. She was a living, breathing Patronus, chasing away the darkness that wanted to consume him.
"We did," she said simply, and then surprised Draco by kissing his cheek softly.
I love you.
Hermione steered the conversation by asking Sasha about how she first met Theo. As the women chatted, Draco caught Theo's eye, expecting to see his friend mocking him after Hermione's public display of affection. Theo, however, regarded Draco with an understanding, yet slightly sad smile, an anguished edge to his gaze.
I'm happy for you, it conveyed. But why did we waste so much time? We were so blind and it almost cost us everything.
Halfway through dinner, Sasha excused herself to the restroom. Theo waited until she was far enough away before letting out a long exhale.
"Pardon my language, but Merlin's fucking bollocks this is nerve wracking," he stated and drained his wine glass. Setting it down, he addressed Hermione.
"Granger, can I just say you are a gift from the heavens." Hermione blushed and tried to demur.
"And what am I, a bloody flobberworm?" Draco groused but Theo waved him off impatiently.
"Shut it, you're just the eye candy. I'll bet you 10 Galleons Sasha makes a comment on how fit she thinks you are before the night's out."
Theo refilled his glass, eyes downcast and suddenly serious. "Granger, I need you to know how much I appreciate you being here tonight. You probably think I'm being underhanded by not telling her the whole truth, but I want to slowly introduce her to our world. I know we don't have the best history and I'm so sorry if I ever—"
"Theo," she cut him off. "Please, no apologies tonight. We didn't know each other well at school and I'm willing to start over tonight if you are."
Gods, this witch's capacity to forgive was astounding. I love you.
"That's unbelievably magnanimous of you, and more than I deserve. Thank you, Granger."
"You can call me Hermione, you know, I won't tell any of your Slytherin friends," she said coyly.
Theo barked out a laugh and turned to Draco. "You're keeping her, I've decided."
Yes. Yes I am. I am okay with this.
Draco rolled his eyes and flipped Theo off.
The three magical beings took advantage of being out of earshot of Sasha to speak freely. Or rather, as Draco predicted, Theo and Hermione took turns trying to out-swot one another. It started with Theo praising her recent centaur reservation land legislation, Hermione acting modest and surprised of Theo's awareness of her career, then Theo sheepishly admitting he had read through the entire law she'd written, Hermione then talking about her Ancient Runes discoveries in Venice, Theo asking nerdy follow-up questions about the Venetian library... and Draco would have seethed with jealousy if it didn't warm his shriveled black heart to see them getting along.
When Sasha returned, the rest of the meal passed rather amicably. With Hermione and Theo having warmed to one another, conversation flowed more naturally. Sasha still dominated most of the discussion, seemingly fit to bursting with curiosity about Theo's life before her.
Draco was mature enough to admit that Theo had chosen well. This woman was far too chatty for his taste, but she was undeniably attractive, cultured, intelligent, and confident. If she weren't so unfortunate to have been born a Muggle, she would have been entirely out of Theo's league. Draco internally winced at allowing himself to think her inferior still, but found it difficult to wrap his mind around a person with a complete absence of magic in their veins as being his equal. He'd been around enough Muggles to not be bothered by them due to their existence, they were just people after all, and all people (magical or not) annoyed the ever-loving-fuck out of him in equal measure. Perhaps this was a discussion best left for his next session with Healer Browning.
Sasha's line of questioning with Hermione caught his attention.
"Hermione, you mentioned your parents live outside London?"
"Yes, they're both dentists, they own and run their own dual practice."
Sasha's eyebrows flew up towards her hairline. "No need to ask how you afforded boarding school. What's your story, Draco? Are you a charity case like my Theo here or an heiress to a dental dynasty like your girl?"
Was Hermione really that wealthy? The way Sasha looked so impressed by her parents' careers made it seem like she was rolling in Galleons, but then surely this is something he would have known about her? And he'd also need to properly rib Theo for the "poor little orphan who clawed his way to wealth" act. Nott Estate ranked second only to Malfoy Manor in grandiosity and the contents of the Gringotts vaults just as overflowing. Charity case indeed.
Theo saved Draco from answering by snorting incredulously. "Malfoy's family has more money than God."
A comment like that would have made younger Draco puff out his chest and crow about the perks of being a Malfoy, but these days it didn't seem to matter quite so much. All the gold in his vaults couldn't give him what he sorely lacked: a respectable name.
"Don't embarrass your friend, Theo. Although now I know why this meeting took so long to happen, what with your friends being both insanely attractive and well-off. Perhaps I settled for you far too soon," she rounded off her statement with a flirty wink at Draco.
Leaning back in his chair, Theo mouthed "10 Galleons to me" at Draco.
Hermione redirected the conversation back to Sasha. "Are you almost through with your culinary schooling?"
As Sasha prattled on about her education, Draco took the opportunity to observe Theo. His eyes had a glazed quality to them, enraptured by the woman beside him. When Sasha revealed that her greatest ambition was to progress from a pastry chef to owning her own bakery, Theo even gushed, "She'd be brilliant. Everything she makes is fantastic." He pressed a soft kiss to her temple and she responded by gazing up at him in adoration.
Gods, is that what he looked like with Granger? No wonder Ginny looked so obnoxiously smug all through last evening while Potter looked on the verge of retching.
When they parted ways later in the evening, the women exchanged a warm embrace. "Hermione, let's swap numbers! I'd love to meet up when these two need their 'boys only down the pub' nights."
Theo offered his hand to Draco with a quiet, "Thanks mate... for everything."
Nothing he could say in response to his friend's desperate relief felt adequate. Hermione was much better at that sort of thing, at accepting gratitude. Sure enough, when Theo shook her hand in farewell and murmured, "Thank you for... being you," Hermione warmly replied, "No thanks needed, Theo. I'm glad to get to know you."
Hermione tucked her arm through Draco's elbow as they walked to a safe apparition point, displaying yet another area in which she excelled: affectionate gestures came so naturally for her. Draco practically suffered an existential crisis before deciding whether or not to hold her hand in public.
"I liked Theo," she admitted quietly. "I can tell he means a lot to you."
"He liked you too." Draco asserted. "Perhaps a little too much," he couldn't help but add.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You can't seriously be jealous! Besides, he's clearly head over heels for Sasha. I thought they were very sweet together."
For some reason, this innocuous statement caused anxiety to bloom in his chest. What sort of picture did Draco and Hermione make as a couple? Ginny seemed amused by them. Potter seemed bewildered, but reluctantly accepting. Theo seemed to think the idea of them together as the funniest cosmic joke of all time.
"How do you think other people view us?"
She peered up at him, clearly surprised at the open vulnerability of his question.
She stopped walking and brought herself around to his front, arms going around his waist. "I think our friends see that we're happy, even if they need some time to wrap their heads around the concept of us. As for the rest of the world?" Hermione stood on her toes and kissed Draco softly. "The rest of the world can bugger off."
I love you. I love you. I love you.
I am okay with this.
---------------------------------
Draco meandered down his hallway, notebook open in his hand—his birthday present from Hermione— and his mind still reeled from receiving it a few days prior. They'd both been too busy with their work schedules and then dinner with friends to celebrate his birthday until midway through June. But when Hermione presented him with her gift, Draco thought it well worth the wait.
He'd been rendered speechless when the wrappings fell away to reveal one of the companion journals he had originally gifted Hermione for Christmas. Hermione nervously chattered in front of him, quickly explaining that she wasn't trying to re-gift something per se, and if he found it horribly tacky then she of course had something else for him, but Draco remained deaf to her prattling.
When he'd given these to her, he thought she'd pass off the spare one to her mother, or the She-Weasel, or even Potter himself; the intention to make it easy for her to communicate with someone important in her life.
And she'd chosen him.
"—and I do have something else planned for you, I just thought—"
"Granger."
She took a deep breath and finally ceased wringing her hands. "Yes?"
"Are you sure you want me to have this?"
Her face contracted in a frown. "Of course I want you to have it."
"Why?"
She started fidgeting with her hands again and blushed furiously. "Because for as long as I've had them, I kept trying to think of who I wanted to talk to during my day about something interesting I read or saw at work... who I would want to confide in at the end of the day... who I'd want one last chat with as I settled in with tea before bed. And well... oh are you really going to make me say?"
Draco gave her his best smirk. "Go on, it's my birthday after all."
"Fine," she huffed. "It was you okay? It was always you, you self-centered, egotistical—"
He cut her off with his lips and soon after found his other birthday present to be Hermione in a very fetching lace brassiere and knickers set.
Now that he knew of her little penchant for dirty talk (sweet Merlin, but he was semi-hard right now, just thinking about that) maybe he could give her a taste in writing. Smirking to himself, Draco shut the journal, vowing to think up some lecherous taunts for her later. Hermione had tea scheduled with her parents today. Draco didn't ask to accompany her, and she hadn't offered. It was enough for now that the Potters and Theo knew about their relationship.
Aimless for the day, Draco stopped as he passed by his music room. The piano melody from "Layla" hadn't left him alone for the past few weeks, so perhaps playing it out would help. A simple enough piece, he reasoned, and sat down on the bench of the Bluthner piano and absently plucked at the keys. The instrument sounded perfectly in tune. Draco wondered if Crick kept it primed for use.
After a few minutes of refreshing his muscle memory with some scales, Draco tried to recall the song. Nothing he played sounded quite right, and he soon became frustrated. He stood and lifted the lid to the bench. Perhaps his mother kept some sheet music in here.
He found a few of the standard classical fare, but nothing to really capture his attention. As he made to close the bench, a piece of parchment caught his eye, lodged in one of the hinges and partially stuck to the top of the lid. Giving a gentle tug, he managed to extricate it without tearing the parchment, frail and yellowed with age.
Unfolding the delicate letter, Draco saw it was addressed to Narcissa, and dated almost 28 years prior.
My dearest Cissy,
I do hope that this letter finds its way into your hands. I am writing to congratulate you and your husband on the birth of your son. The announcement in the Prophet said you bestowed him the name of Draco. A fine name indeed, and quite fitting in the family tradition.
Though we have not spoken in a number of years, I felt compelled to send my fondest wishes on the birth of your healthy baby boy. Your husband is surely exceedingly proud that you have produced a male heir.
I have a daughter of my own now, Nymphadora. It is my dearest wish that one day our children could meet and know one another as family.
Perhaps it is rather presumptuous of me, but I'd like to think that had our relationship not suffered so in light of my marriage to Ted, that you would have named me godmother to Draco. Leaning further into that fantasy, I do hope that you will also accept my gift for him, as it is a godparent's right to shower their godchild with a bit of extravagance.
I well remember your skill at the piano, Cissy, and it is one of my greatest regrets that I no longer have the privilege of hearing you play. You were ever so musically gifted, and I pray your child inherits your talent. Even if you never acknowledge my letter, please allow your son the opportunity to learn on this very instrument. An experienced player such as yourself will surely recognize that the quality and craftsmanship is second to none.
Please tell Draco that his Aunt Andromeda loves him already. I hope to meet him one day, and when he's old enough to play, I'd love nothing more than to witness him using this gift.
And darling, if you're ever in need of anything, don't hesitate to come to me. I will always consider you family.
Your loving sister,
Andromeda
Draco's hands were shaking by the time he finished reading the letter. This piano, this very piano, had been his birth gift from Aunt Andromeda. Andromeda Tonks, née Black, whose name Draco never heard leave his mother's lips, and only once from his father's, though on that occasion it was preceded by "that filthy Muggle-lover."
Andromeda Tonks, his blood relative, was but a stranger to him, while the likes of Harry bloody Potter got to call her family. Were circumstances different, perhaps Draco would have been bestowed the honor of godfather to Teddy Lupin, not Potter.
But no, once again his family's foolish pride had sabotaged what could have been a true familial relationship. What else had his parents' ignorance cost Draco?
Please tell Draco that his Aunt Andromeda loves him already.
The words blurred in front of his eyes and when the burning in his throat became too much, Draco let out a choked sob. Why had his mother kept the piano? Why had she never said where it came from? What else had she hidden from him all these years? Was she so proud that she would coldly spurn her sister's overtures at reconciliation? Or perhaps she felt she had to hide this from Father?
But she kept it. She bloody kept the letter and the piano. Why not reach out now, with the war over and Father gone?
None of this made sense to Draco, and he clutched his head in his hands as tears continued to fall, the emotional weight of this discovery like a wallop to his gut. Drying his eyes, the sorrow soon gave way to the fires of anger. Part of him wanted to smash the instrument in front of him to bits and then set the pieces ablaze. He was so fucking sick and tired of paying for his parents' choices.
In a rage, Draco tore up the stairs to his library. Locating the pile of letters from his mother, Draco threw himself behind his desk and scanned every single one from the past year.
"...I met the most captivating young witch, Draco, and wouldn't you know, she's planning to visit London next week..."
"...Madame Avery sends her regards as well, and I'm sure you know her niece is a highly accomplished..."
"...say they have no use for house elves here, and really, they could not be more wrong on that front..."
"...why just yesterday I had the most delightful meal with her and her husband, who incidentally, spoke to me of several political posts that could be in need of an English-speaking liaison..."
"...wouldn't mind just popping into Twilfitt and Tattings for me? Their spring collection just debuted in Paris and I need..."
"...she graduated Beauxbatons two years before you, darling, so perhaps you've already made her acquaintance from the Triwizard Tournament?"
Trivial nonsense, all of it. All her silly letters contained were useless gossip, sly hints about Draco switching to a career more befitting his family's shady political past, and endless recommendations of wealthy pureblood witches handpicked by Narcissa to entice Draco into finally settling down.
Not one line of substance.
If he were being honest, he hardly poured his heart out to his mother when he replied. Truthfully, his responses became more and more cursory as he spent less time at home and more time with Hermione.
Narcissa's most recent letter included an apology for not being able to return to England for his birthday as some high-society family needed her assistance with planning their annual summer gala (a true honor to be asked to help, she assured him). She would be back in July and they could celebrate properly then.
Draco barely retained the information as he pushed the letters away and sat back heavily in his desk chair.
Was it worth the cost, Mother? How can you go on pretending that our family isn't a fucking farce?
A sudden glimpse of his watch pulled Draco out of his melancholy. He had to head out soon to the Wasps' match tonight against the Falmouth Falcons, and thank Merlin for quidditch or he'd be staring down a lonesome evening trying to stave off a mental collapse.
Gathering up the collection of letters, he dropped them in the library fireplace, igniting the pieces of parchment in a quick flick of his wand on his way out the door.
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A/N: Thanks for reading! Find me on tumblr: @heyjude19-writing.