A/N: I did warn you all that this final author's note would be quite lengthy. If you'd like to skip it and get to the good stuff, please scroll on by this block of text, I certainly wouldn't blame you. But I'd be remiss in not telling you all how I owe the D/Hr fandom an immense debt of gratitude. Before this year, I'd been silently reading and partaking in what so many talented authors gave out for free for a very, very long time.
I think a lot of you have heard the origin story of Remain Nameless by now: I thought up Draco's apology in Chapter 8 more than a decade ago. Over the years, I'd add little bits and pieces, then longer bits and bigger pieces to this story in my head until it overwhelmed me so much I unloaded it from my brain onto my computer over a year and some months ago. I honestly did not ever think I would share this with anyone. It was merely an exercise in making space in my brain and indulging my head canons for what a post-war society looked like in the world of Harry Potter and for how a relationship between Draco and Hermione could realistically progress. Thank you for accepting my addition to this world, I remain in this fandom's debt.
As I wrapped up this monster fic I threw two short stories up on the internet just to see if I could handle posting. But as I saw the finish line for writing RN, 2020 turned into a hellscape. I decided that I would do something that I really enjoyed, and that was to finally be an active participant in this fandom. I told myself if just one person liked my story then it would be worth posting. I didn't know a single soul when I began this journey and I didn't think I'd end up on several different platforms, connecting with readers/other writers/and artists. I never anticipated just how much fun this could all be.
I can't properly describe how overwhelmed I continue to feel by the response to this story. To the readers, thank you for jumping on board a fic from a random new writer who came stumbling into this space with claims of "slow burn, but I promise an HEA!" and "uhhh no idea how many chapters, sorry everyone, but this is more than 300k words long so...?"
To anyone who looked at this story, read it, commented, engaged with it in any way at any point in time, thank you. Thank you for letting me play around with characters major and minor and for letting me explore unresolved canon threads and add my own magical lore too. If this insanely long story of mine, which began as a personal catharsis, helped you in any way during this difficult year, then it's truly an honor.
Thank you to the other writers who've encouraged me along the way. I'm happy to call several of you friends now.
Thank you to the ridiculously talented artists who used their time to create original art and moodboards for this story. Each and every piece makes me lose my mind and descend into incoherency for a bit.
Thank you to mrsbutlertron for initiating our lovely friendship with your insanely long, insightful, and hilarious comments. I look forward to pestering you with my panic over minor details and apology fics for the rest of time. It's a pleasure to know you.
At the end of the day, I wanted to tell a story of two people who'd survived unspeakable trauma, who persisted in the aftermath, stumbled a bit, struggled a lot, but emerged from it all to find healing, love, and the strength to define themselves on their own terms. Thank you for letting me tell this story.
-Jude
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Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Hermione looked around her crowded living room. Boxes, bins, and suitcases holding all of her possessions and recollections of her time in the townhome took up almost the entire space, save for her sofa. Her friends had come through in stages throughout the last two evenings to help her pack it all up. She'd officially have everything moved to Franklin House in two days' time.
"You'll miss it, won't you?" asked Ginny softly.
Hermione nodded and turned on the spot, taking in her bare walls, empty mantel, lonely shelves devoid of objects or decorations, a home stripped of all evidence she'd once resided here.
"Let me put on a kettle before I go," Ginny said with a comforting squeeze to her shoulder.
Alone with her memories, she indulged in a wistful smile at the thought of this stage of her life coming to a close. She saw the hallway where she'd shared her first kiss with Draco. The burn mark on the hardwood from when Harry sent off startled sparks from his wand in a panic with a younger Teddy, terrified of babysitting alone and mortified when the child threw a tantrum because Harry wouldn't let him fly. The scratches on the corner of the wall from when Crookshanks felt particularly sassy. The dent in the ceiling from when Ron decided it would be brilliant to experiment with miniature trick Bludgers indoors.
Remnants of a previous life. Despite the sometimes lonely nights, she'd never regret this stage of independent living in a home she'd bought for herself, with her own savings, with her own preferences and no one else's in mind.
She wondered how Draco fared at the office the last two days and then at their home without her. Hermione still met him at the café both today and yesterday morning, but returned to the townhome at night to pack away the remainder of her belongings and shore up plenty of work before they'd depart on their honeymoon. But her husband of all of a few days had a certain way, actually make that several ways, of convincing her that work could wait in the mornings, so she'd opted to retire to her bed here, alone.
It hadn't stopped Draco from sending dozens of messages through their two-way journals. She knew he was trying so hard to respect her space and had yet to beg she come sleep with him at least. Part of her liked once again having that anticipation build by being apart a few days before their soul-bonding ceremony, but a larger part of her argued she needlessly deprived herself for a silly tradition. They were already married anyway for Merlin's sake.
As if he'd heard her thoughts all the way from Berkshire, the fireplace lit up green and Draco stalked out.
"Damn it all Granger, you are my wife and this is bloody ridiculous!"
Before she could so much as open her mouth, he commandeered it with his own. Pushed up against an empty stretch of wall, she only came to her senses once he'd moved his lips down to her neck.
"Draco, Ginny's here!"
In her periphery, she caught a flash of red hair and heard a snort of laughter. Draco did not seem to care about another presence in the room, only pausing his attentions to her skin to toss a cursory greeting over his shoulder.
"Evening Ginevra, best be on your way unless you want a show."
"As much as I would enjoy that, I don't think Hermione is an exhibitionist. Enjoy your evening with Mrs. Malfoy."
"It's Granger-Malfoy," Draco corrected, and Hermione couldn't remove his outerwear fast enough as Ginny's parting guffaws rang in her ear.
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Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Draco found Narcissa in one of the smaller dining rooms of the Lestrange Estate. He'd taken the last few days to focus on quidditch match updates and player statistics at the office, but he'd mostly spent his time dreaming up ways to seduce his wife. Which meant today's arduous task occurred later than he'd liked, but Draco could put it off no longer. He'd not go into his soul-bonding ceremony with this hanging over his head.
Narcissa circled the large, handsome table, occasionally leaning forward to pluck up a place card and swap it for another. A few days before the magical wedding and apparently the seating chart for the reception still required some tinkering.
"We missed you at our wedding this past Saturday," Draco announced in lieu of a greeting.
Her shoulders stiffened, technically an emotional reaction.
"I hardly doubt my presence was missed at your... other affair."
"Aunt Andromeda attended. She seemed to think, as I did, that you'd attend as well."
"Yes well, my sister has always been the unorthodox sort."
"Why didn't you come?" If she'd meant to distract him it wouldn't work. Not for this, he wouldn't allow a dodge or a deflection.
"Did you really want me to attend? I was under the impression it was meant to be a rather quiet celebration, and I sought to avoid any contentious confrontations what with all the Weasleys in attendance. I didn't think you or Hermione would appreciate any uncomfortable public displays."
"Uncomfortable? For whom Mother? For you? Would it have been any more or less uncomfortable than receiving sympathy from strangers who naturally assumed I was an orphan?"
Her head jerked up at this and she looked stricken. An angle she hadn't considered. Draco didn't luxuriate in this sad triumph nor did he let his gaze waver, silently pleading with her.
"I am sorry. For what it's worth."
The contrition, while welcome, did not do much to soothe his disappointment.
"No," Draco shook his head. "No, that's not good enough."
She set her mouth in a tight line at her apology not having immediately wiped the offense away.
"Draco, I have accepted your choice of wife, I have eagerly assisted in planning your soul-bonding with her, what more would you ask of me?"
"That you show a willingness to change! We weren't asking you to snap your wand in half and denounce all magic, we were asking that you exist amicably in the company of my wife's family for a mere few hours!"
He sighed and took a deep breath and then continued calmly. "That ceremony... it was important to Hermione. It was important to me. Damn it all Mother, do I really need to spell out for you that I wanted you to show up on the happiest day of my life?"
Narcissa sniffed and lifted her chin, and Draco recognized the defense mechanism she sought to employ even before she opened her mouth to throw out self-deprecation disguised by haughtiness. A tactic he knew well that he'd almost entirely shed from his own arsenal.
"I'm sure it was a very happy occasion despite my absence, surrounded as you were by your new family and friends."
Draco nodded in concession but didn't rise to the bait. "It was very happy. I can admit perhaps some of the fault lies with me for downplaying the significance while we were planning, but I didn't think I'd need to beg you to attend. I suppose I just assumed..."
He trailed off and took a fortifying inhale. "While yes, it was a very happy occasion because I had an aunt and new in-laws and irritating friends look at me with pride in their eyes for once... I didn't have my mother."
She finally relinquished her hold on the place card, setting it down on the table. Her hands unnecessarily smoothed down her pristine robes. One of the few nervous tells she possessed.
"Your aunt stopped by my home after the ceremony. Merlin," Narcissa chuckled softly. "I'd forgotten how she sounded when she'd become worked up. So do not worry, darling," her mouth set in a bittersweet smile, "I received the proper scolding for my transgression."
While grateful to his aunt for her intervention on his behalf, it pained Draco to have been the cause of even more strife between his mother and her sister, especially with their relationship only recently repaired.
Perhaps Draco could prove that he truly did want to share all the aspects of his new life with her. It had taken him far too long to realize what his mother feared. Change did not mean leaving her behind.
"I want to show you something," Draco murmured. He rolled up his left sleeve and held his arm tentatively in Narcissa's direction for her inspection.
Her eyes widened at the sight before her. With rapid steps, she closed the distance between them and took his arm in her hands to peer at the now unmarked, if a bit blemished and discolored, skin.
"But how?" she breathed. "I thought no glamours would hold."
"It's not a glamour."
"Then-?"
"Hermione," Draco said, voice tight. "She's really rather brilliant, you know. She caught on to a theory, saw it through to the logical, researched conclusion, and the end result is that thanks to Muggle methods, I am now free of that madman's mark. I'm clean again. Whole."
He stepped away from her trembling fingers ghosting their touch along his arm to pull his sleeve back down.
"That's how Hermione makes me feel, Mother. All the time."
Her turn to surprise him. She took his face in her hands.
"Draco, I am proud of you. I have always been proud of you."
Her blue eyes swept over his face. "I only ever wanted good things for you."
She dropped her hands. "I hope you can forgive me if I've not... exhibited that more fully."
His family wasted so many years, so much time, wrapped up in locking away all sentiment, and it had come close to irreparably tearing them apart. So Draco didn't waste another moment in pulling his mother into a hug and saying exactly how he felt.
"I love you."
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Saturday, August 14, 2010
Another wait at the end of an aisle for Hermione to join him.
This time he hadn't needed a meltdown in Theo's presence to get his arse to stand in front of a crowd in anticipation of his bride. The guests today, almost entirely magical, absolutely dwarfed the amount from last week, but such were the inclinations of the mother of the groom.
Not just a Malfoy wedding, but a Malfoy soul-bonding. An ancient and revered ceremony for an ancient and revered bloodline. A far more palatable way for Narcissa to show her pride in their heritage. She'd delighted in inviting almost 400 people to celebrate her only son and his "highly accomplished wife." Draco bit back a smug grin as he overheard his mother chattering away to more than one guest on the subject of the bride.
"Did you know Hermione's parents are specialized Healers? Yes, they're quite prominent in their field."
Professor Flitwick bounced on his heels just behind him, humming to himself. A pleasant breeze swept around the grounds of his estate, of the home he now shared with Hermione. Today, the site of a soul-bonding ceremony, tomorrow the place where he'd convince his wife to make love beneath one of the willow trees, or perhaps she'd read with her head in his lap, or maybe they'd stroll the grounds and inspect Watson's garden, or she'd work on new legislation while he flew above, or any other millions of tomorrows they'd spend here together.
Visions and versions of the future time together blurred in front of Draco's eyes, all with Hermione.
The strings started up, some traditional orchestral piece favored by his mother. He'd been ambivalent on this song before, but now it would take on a whole new meaning should he ever hear it again.
The flaps of the bridal tent near the edge of the garden rustled, and Ginny stepped through followed closely by Theo. Fulfilling their duty as the chosen magical witnesses to the bonding, the pair took the measured walk down the aisle of rose petals beneath their feet. Per tradition, their robes represented their familial lines and embroidered with their crests; Theo's an emerald green and Ginny's a scarlet red.
They each carried a wand in hand, though not their own. When they reached Draco and Flitwick beneath the ceremony arch, Ginny placed Hermione's vinewood wand on a velvet pillow atop the altar in front of their bonder, and Theo followed suit with Draco's hawthorn wand. The two wands joined the other objects necessary for today's ritual: a silver knife and a strip of cloth.
All Draco needed now was his partner.
Draco's pulse quickened when he noticed both her parents seated in the front row. Shouldn't they be back in the bridal tent preparing to escort their daughter? Archaic though it may seem, an important part of the bonding ceremony involved one party being escorted to or with the other. Not in the vein of giving away a person as a possession or property, but rather a symbolic shepherding of a loved one into this next phase of their life journey.
Hermione had an independent streak a mile wide, but surely if she'd meant to walk this metaphorical path alone she would have said something? They could have just walked together if that were the case.
The flaps moved and Potter appeared, holding one side open. Weasley appeared next and held the other side. What the fuck were those two morons up to? Oh gods, were they about to charge up here and smugly inform Draco in front of all these people that Hermione had changed her mind?
He quelled that insane thought, confident she wouldn't ever perform such cruelty. He trusted her with anything. With everything.
A blink of his eyes later and Hermione emerged from the mouth of the tent, linking one arm with Potter and then one arm with Weasley.
Oh.
Those absolute twats.
Leave it to these three to make a profound statement in a silent yet screaming fashion. A calculated, opportunistic move he hadn't thought her two friends capable of coming up with let alone agreeing to perform in public.
Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley escorting Hermione Granger to be soul-bonded to Draco Malfoy? Those idiots had to know how this gesture would be reported, dissected, and analyzed from every possible angle and probably combust the quills of more than one member of the press.
But to Hermione, he suspected, this meant so much more than a visual stunt. Though she'd enter a magical bond today with him, Draco could concede that the two wizards flanking her also occupied a significant portion of her heart and soul.
It was only right now that he spent more than an instant considering it, that the two boys who'd saved her from a mountain troll, who she'd in turn save countless more times, her first friends in the magical world, would obviously be the ones to accompany her in this choice to experience a type of magic most never even witnessed let alone participated in during the course of life.
She'd left her curls free and loose today, his favorite version of her wild hair. Had he ever told her that? He should tell her. Today. Every day.
Her long, fitted white gown trailed behind her into a lengthy train of light, rippling material, a sheen to it not unlike Potter's Invisibility Cloak. It fastened about her shoulders like a cape, studded with shining stones he could clock from his spot at the altar.
He couldn't quite make out her expression from this distance, but the assembled friends and family all seemed to sputter out a collective gasp of awe at her beauty.
On the arms of her best friends, Hermione glided towards him.
She glided past Hagrid in the back row, a man Draco personally tormented for most of his childhood who now would grudgingly shake his hand and had recently stopped making jokes about insulting hippogriffs.
She glided past Wesley and Lara Macnair, seated next to Maureen Tyler and her father. Mr. Tyler had persuaded Draco to come observe one of his training practices in the near future, or participate if he liked. Maureen said Draco wouldn't last five minutes into the workout.
She glided past a whole swathe of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw alumni, a group that now held a few people Draco was forced to label as "friends." It didn't rankle him like it should. Luna and Rolf sat with this group, Luna's stomach rounded with her impending twins. They'd invited Draco and Hermione to the birth blessing ceremony, to take place the next full moon of course, and all guests would need to arrive barefoot.
She glided past Crick and Watson. Their book on elf sign communication was currently in a bidding war with three different publishing houses. Draco now knew enough signs to trade a few polite phrases with Watson, but Hermione could already conduct full blown conversations with him.
She glided past the cadre of Hogwarts professors. Draco wondered if this moment was truly surreal for this group of adults that remembered their contentious childhood relationship. He wondered what Snape's portrait had to say about all this.
She glided past Healer Browning and his wife. Perhaps today, after a drink or two, Draco would discover what it looked like when the healer smiled.
She glided past Astoria, Dennis, and Sasha. Draco briefly cast his gaze towards Theo, stood to his left, as he recalled their pre-ceremony conversation. "It's early days, obviously, and Sasha has brothers but I... well we talked it over and she agreed. That you'd be godfather. When the baby's here. I mean, that's usually how this goes, you wait for the baby and then ask the godparents but I-" Draco hadn't let Theo finish the question and instead pulled his friend towards him and into a tight embrace.
She glided past Aunt Andromeda and Teddy. Draco predicted the Christmas season might look a bit different this year, should his mother prove good on her word to put an effort in with their only remaining immediate blood relatives.
She glided past the innumerable Weasleys. A family that had every right to shun him, yet after a healthy and not unwarranted period of suspicion, had folded him into their circle of chaotic affection. Truly, they'd embraced "let bygones be bygones" almost to an extreme and not once made Draco feel as if he were anything less than welcome in their lives.
Each and every family member related to him in their own unique way. Molly strong-armed him into extra helpings at every meal she cooked for him.
For Arthur, Draco planned to buy an obscenely large television set for his shed of Muggle oddities.
Bill volunteered to imbue their wedding rings with protective enchantments.
Charlie quietly thanked Draco for recommending his jeweler for engagement rings and delighted over their shared dragon Patronuses (Charlie's was a Hebridean Black).
Percy offered Draco Ministry positions he had no intention of applying for on several occasions.
George gleefully informed him he'd added a range of realistic ferret masks to the shop to join their growing collection of mustelid themed merchandise.
Ron, who Draco considered addressing by his given name on occasion, especially if they were in the throes of quidditch chats, could be... tolerable. It felt less like a purposeful irritation when he referred to him as "mate" these days. Padma's amiable demeanor also generally served to make the Weasel's presence more palatable.
And finally, Ginevra.
As an only child, Draco did not know how it felt to have a sibling. Perhaps Ginny could tell him if she recognized that type of bond between them? Now was not the time to ask the woman serving as one of their magical witnesses if she felt the same. Maybe in a decade or so, he'd toss it out and catch her emotionally off guard. Knowing her though, she'd probably beat him to it.
Hermione had almost reached him.
She glided past her parents. His Muggle in-laws. Draco would attend his first ever live football match with David in the upcoming month. Jean had given him his first dental cleaning before the other wedding, mildly annoyed at his perfect teeth. Draco now knew where Hermione learned that frustrated huff at being unable to find anything wrong with his physical appearance. Like mother like daughter.
She glided past his mother. A peculiar-colored stone caught the sunlight and Draco bit back a laugh at the sight of his mother's ears adorned with enormous, glinting red rubies. Her unspoken and subtle acceptance of her new daughter-in-law, while extravagant (Merlin, who makes a point via jewelry besides a Black sister?) warmed Draco's heart.
Narcissa certainly had more work to do to earn Draco's full trust, to say nothing of how Hermione still felt. It might well take years, but Draco already knew that both women were at least open to working towards a relationship with one another, provided his mother refrained from foisting any more outdated etiquette books on Hermione.
She'd not had the opportunity to glide past a few people.
Pansy and her husband had sent their formal regrets in response to their invitation. That he'd received a reply at all, and a cordial one at that, gave Draco the tiniest wisp of hope.
Lucius was obviously also not in attendance. Before Draco had taken his place at the end of the aisle, his mother approached to unnecessarily fuss over his robes. She then presented him with a pair of cufflinks: silver with a black "M" engraved. "Your father's," she explained quietly. "He would have wanted you to wear these on your wedding day." She'd taken a brisk inhale as she placed them in his hand. "While this gift is a week late, perhaps you could wear them today?"
Draco suppressed the urge to fiddle with the cufflinks at his wrist as the united front stood before him with three sets of suspiciously glassy eyes.
A trio of people he'd once mocked, scorned, and envied. Sometimes all at once. Each of Hermione's friends left her with a gentle kiss on the cheek.
Potter moved first. He gave Draco a firm handshake and a muttered, "Congratulations, mate."
Weasley followed with a simple yet disarming offering. "Take good care of each other, yeah?"
Only Hermione remained.
Once more she mouthed "Hello," upon reaching him and once more Draco could not summon the reaction to return the silent greeting. Draco took the hands of his witch and led her up the short steps to stand before Flitwick.
Standing upon an elevated podium behind the altar so their audience could see the tiny wizard, Flitwick launched into the prepared remarks regarding the solemnity and sacred nature of the ceremony about to be performed by himself and witnessed by this fortunate group of people.
Draco, again, did not hear a word.
His soul rattled the cage bars of his corporeal form, screaming for release, let it fly to her, let it join with its true home, it had no use for patience and could not understand the need to wait any longer.
Draco raked his eyes over Hermione's face, hungry to commit these moments to memory, desperate to tell her without speaking that he wanted this, wanted her, for every moment in every lifetime in every timeline.
He wanted every smile from her, but most especially this one. She could not stop smiling. Her face would not allow for it. It shook the corners of her mouth, trembled at her lips, displayed her teeth. A spasm of facial muscles attempted to prevent tears from leaking. It failed.
A smirk curled the edges of his mouth and he pinched the skin of her hand.
Caught you, Granger.
She blew out a frustrated laugh that only Draco heard beneath Flitwick's projected voice.
Flitwick unfurled their official bonding parchment and called forth Ginny and Theo to perform their duties as witnesses.
"Who stands for this witch?"
"I, Ginevra Molly Potter, do bear witness today for Hermione Jean Granger-Malfoy."
Ginny directed her wand at the document, her name flashing in gold along the bottom.
"Who stands for this wizard?"
"I, Theodore Aloysius Nott, do bear witness today for Draco Lucius Malfoy."
Theo mimicked the act and Flitwick signed his own name before rolling up and sealing the scroll. He turned to Draco and Hermione to remind them of the vows they would now recite, though Draco required no prompting.
"I, Draco, pledge you, Hermione, my love, fidelity, and all my worldly goods.
I vow to honor our union in both word and deed.
As my magic calls to yours, so shall my heart, so shall my soul.
I stand before you as your equal and ask that you accept my magic as a sign of my devotion to you and my faith in you.
I humbly recognize the balance that must exist in the universe.
For there is no light without darkness, no healing without pain, no joy without grief.
It is my solemn vow that I will bear all of this with you, and should you ever need, I will bear it for you.
I bind my soul to yours, this promise given freely, for this life and all the lives to come."
Hermione repeated her vows, voice clear and strong with just a touch of her competitive nature lurking at the edges of each statement. Malfoy's not the only one who memorized the entire passage.
Flitwick presented the silver knife to Draco first. His parents had used the same knife for their bonding, though their engraved runes had been scrubbed for him and Hermione to choose their own. They'd gone with four symbols: love, protection, faith, and strength.
Draco cut a neat line down the center of his palm, then gripped his hawthorn wand in hand. Hermione without even a wince, sliced hers as well, then grasped her vinewood wand.
They joined the wands at the tip, Draco surprised in the steadiness of both their hands. Flitwick, with a flourish of his wand, sent the binding cloth to wind around their hands. It snaked from Draco's wrist, around his gripped wand, then around Hermione's to tie firmly at her wrist. Draco could feel the smooth wood dig into the thin gash in his hand, his blood dripping onto the cloth.
A low hum of an incantation issued from their former professor's mouth. Repetitive, droning Latin mixed with variations of the language found within most spellwork, the words accompanied by short, blunt movements of Flitwick's wand. The older wizard's eyes closed, beads of perspiration gathered on his balding head, as he concentrated on the precise ancient phrases to initiate and seal the bond.
Beams of every color spilled forth and the strangest sensations coursed through every part of Draco as they swirled around them. He hadn't known what to expect from the actual bonding step, and through the haze of whirling brilliant colors, he focused his gaze on a wide-eyed Hermione.
During several instances in his life, Draco had been acutely aware of the magic in his veins. When he'd been a young child and experienced bursts of accidental magic, he remembered feeling both scared and proud that this natural power ran through his being.
At age 11 when Ollivander handed him a wand made of hawthorn with a core of unicorn hair, he remembered the jolt of his magic sparking to life, finally at one with an instrument with which it could channel his energy.
Now, another stark awareness of his abilities sprang to life and crawled up his spine, imparting a simultaneous sensation of both comforting warmth and cooling chill. His wand turned hot in his grip, but he knew it would not burn him.
The cognizance of his own powers never felt sharper, more familiar, but suddenly another power pulsed within to join with his. The feeling was akin to an intrusion at first, abrasive and knocking against his own will, almost combative.
But the magic whispered to him, told him to open himself, to allow more into his life force, to give of himself in return. Acceptance as he released. The magic would find the balance for them.
Little by little, the foreign sensation felt less like an invasion. The strands of this new feeling receded and instead of letting it go, Draco grabbed tighter. A chase ensued between his magical core and this new entity, as they alternated between the advance and the retreat. Finally, a mutual melding occurred, a harmonious comingling that settled along every nerve of his body.
When Draco took his next inhale and exhale of breath, a soothing calm overtook the atmosphere within and around him. In front of him, connected with him, Hermione exuded serene contentment, and the look that passed between them in an endless loop read as completeness.
Finally whole, finally home.
Flitwick, panting for breath, issued his final ceremony edict to the newly bonded couple.
"Magic to bind and now magic to heal."
He removed the cloth from around their hands and wands and Draco lifted Hermione's hand in front of his eyes.
Draco cast his first spell with rejuvenated abilities to knit Hermione's skin back together and clean off any evidence of a wound. He pressed a kiss to the center of her mended palm. She did the same for him in return.
"I now declare you bonded for this life and all the lives to come."
Along with the new sensation of fresh magic within him, he felt something flowing down his face.
Tears.
He wanted this smile of hers too. A smirk curled the edges of her mouth and she pinched the skin of his hand.
Caught you, Malfoy.
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The after-party, or perhaps by this hour it could be considered the after-after-party, was still in full swing in their ballroom when Hermione and Draco could finally pull themselves away. They'd made the innumerable rounds for final farewells, and even with their clear intent to leave the reception, it had still taken George and Ron debuting their latest invention to divert enough attention for them to slip upstairs. Draco hoped the professional cleaning crew hired by Narcissa had experience in getting burn marks off floors and walls left by Blazing Booze ("spit flames up to 20 feet long in the shape of your choosing!").
Draco noted with relief that their chambers had a distinct lack of flower petals when he and Hermione could finally retire. He wondered if he'd offended Crick by telling him, in no uncertain terms, to please keep any and all hyacinths out in the garden from now on.
Hermione sat on the edge of their bed and patted the spot next to her. Draco sank down beside his wife and allowed her to draw him in for a gentle kiss that soon deepened into a preview of the more carnal acts to follow. But Draco disengaged before this tempting woman and her supple lips could distract him any longer.
"It's tradition in my family for the groom to gift his bride something rather extravagant. My father gifted my mother the rose garden at Malfoy Manor. But I thought you might like something different."
With a nervous clearing of his throat he picked up his journal off the bedside table. "You wrote your own version of vows to me and I wanted, I needed, to do the same for you."
Hermione's chin quivered and he might have succeeded in a repeat performance of happy tears if he could but suppress his constant urge to annoy her.
"And of course, it only seemed right, since-"
"Draco Malfoy don't you dare say it right now-"
"-turnabout is fair play."
She tittered a watery laugh, tears staying put for the time being.
Draco never thought himself particularly good at writing out personal thoughts or feelings. But he knew Hermione would never judge him for this, and would appreciate the show of vulnerability. She would not think him weak. After the intense experience of the bonding ceremony, Draco felt a renewed strength within him, and it did not take much internal coaxing to forge ahead. But then, she'd always made him brave.
He opened to the proper page and removed the postcard from Venice that still served as his bookmark. She let out a soft gasp at the sight. "You still have the postcard I sent you?"
"Yes."
"That feels like ages ago doesn't it?"
She shot him a wistful smile and while Draco could now look back upon that time in their relationship with fondness, he preferred the here and now.
"Hermione. I have always been committed to you. I had no need of vows or spells to tell me what I already knew. I think I was yours from the second you fed me that scone in public."
He couldn't resist teasing her, just a little. She immediately took the bait. Merlin, he'd never tire of riling her up.
"You goaded me into it!"
"And weren't you all too willing, letting me suck on your fingers in front of all and sundry."
"Oh my gods, it was hardly anything remotely salacious until you turned it around on me!"
"It was indecent, I'm sure we scarred several Muggle children that day."
They laughed together, overcome with the absurd memory of the mutual ridiculousness of their past selves. When they'd calmed down, Draco tucked a curl behind her ear and returned to his written words.
"The life you've built with me is more than I could ever have imagined," he stated quietly. "I may have changed quite a bit, but I'll always be selfish and greedy, though it now manifests in different ways. I will always covet more of you. I will always desire more time with you. We bound our souls together today for this life and any others to come and I am telling you that it will never be enough for me. I know how that sounds and I don't care."
He lifted her wrist to his lips for a quick kiss of gratitude.
"Thank you for seeing me, really seeing me, as I am. Not who others wanted me to be, nor who they feared me to be, but for who I truly am. And who that is..." He paused to swallow the lump in his throat.
"Or who that was... was a man who thought himself no longer needed in this world. But you made me want to try to carve out a place for myself that I'd earned through my own contributions, with my own deeds, with my own name... and I think that... I think that I've mostly succeeded... in becoming a good man."
He couldn't help the brief peek up at her. A silent request for validation. She sweetly reassured him, knowing exactly what he needed to hear.
"You did Draco. I always knew you could."
He nodded and read his last few lines to her. "I promise to keep trying. You have given me more love and happiness than any one man has a right to, and for this gift I can but say thank you. Know that I will love you, Hermione, always."
"I love you."
He pulled her in for a kiss, but she broke it soon after to lean back, suspicion and skepticism etched on her features.
"What's that look for?"
"I know you did something extravagant too. Out with it."
He never could get anything past her.
"Fine, there's a chateau in France with our names on the deed that awaits your inspection, approval, and signature."
She gasped and it amused him far too much.
"Draco! You cannot go around buying us extra homes without consulting me first!"
"Even if the library is double the size of the one we have here?"
Oh how he adored putting Hermione in an ethical conundrum. Her lips may have pursed, and her brow scrunched, but her expressive eyes always gave her away. Draco could see the delicious way she struggled to harbor indignation over his clandestine purchase while trying not to appear too thrilled by the prospect of this surprise.
"I suppose... should I approve, mind you... that it's a rather thoughtful gesture. But promise me no more secret properties, please?"
"Of course, love. But how do you feel about private islands for anniversaries?"
She rolled her eyes. "I'm going to have my hands full with you, aren't I?"
"Now that, Granger, I can promise."
----------------------------------
An undetermined amount of time later
Tangled sheets and sweat, followed by sleeplessness and shivering. It would be dramatic stuff indeed if it weren't so commonplace these days. Draco finally stopped trying to find a comfortable sleeping position and settled onto his back. Gray eyes opened and stared to his left before immediately narrowing in accusation.
These days, the tangled sheets, sweat and sleeplessness derived not from harrowing nightmares, but vigorous bouts of lovemaking. The shivering that often followed born not from convulsive tremors, but instead from Hermione's penchant for pulling the covers over her body and away from her husband's as she slept.
"You are absolutely rubbish at sharing. Give me my portion of the blankets back you little thief."
A sleepy chuckle sounded through the air and Hermione breached the gap to snuggle into Draco's side. He took advantage of her closeness to reach a hand down to cup her bum and gave it a firm squeeze. Hermione giggled and rolled away from him.
"You're not getting your lecherous hands anywhere near me until I've had tea and something to eat," she protested.
"Tired you out last night, did I love?"
"Mmmm, something like that."
"Fancy some scones?"
"Oh gods yes, that sounds wonderful."
Draco leaned over and pecked her lips then rolled out of bed to get dressed and complete his errand. As he emerged fully clothed from the bathroom he found Hermione sitting up in bed, topless with the sheets pooled to her waist, curly hair simply everywhere. This was his life now and fuck if it wasn't fantastic.
"Are you happy?" She asked suddenly, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.
"If you could see the sight in front of me right now, you would know that to be a stupid question."
She huffed and crossed her arms over her bare chest, but her lips twitched all the same.
"I only meant to ask... are you happy with the decision we made last night?"
Last night... last night had been a beacon of glorious, curative light in the dark and cloud-ridden tapestry of his life, as memories of Hermione often were.
He'd come through the Floo, finally home after a several hours-long meeting with the Falcons' coaching staff. Loosening his tie, he trudged up the stairs, and passing by Watson saw the elf sign, "Would you like a cup of tea before bed, Sir?"
Draco signed back, "No, thank you, have a good night," and Watson smiled and continued on his way.
Draco reached the bedroom to find Hermione shuffling anxiously in front of their bed, clenching and unclenching her hands and muttering to herself. The second he spied Draco, Crookshanks shot him an unblinking stare and sauntered out of the room. "Your turn my dear chap, I've put in my time tonight."
"All right love?"
"Yes," she squeaked, looking startled at him having approached. Draco waited the beat out in silence before she caved, as he knew she would. "No. Fine, I've just been doing a lot of thinking."
"I can see that. What about?"
She paced a few more rounds and he bided his time, letting her come to terms with the thoughts and emotions swirling in her head.
"I received my reminder notice from the Apothecary today. My refill of my Contraceptive Potion for next month is ready to be picked up."
She paused here, but Draco made no comment, confused as to where this conversation was going.
"I have the last dose left, you see. My current prescription for this month. I was meant to take it this morning so it would protect us for the next 30 days."
She exhaled slowly and met his gaze with a determined glint. "I didn't take the potion."
Draco wrapped a long arm around one of the bedposts to steady himself.
"Which means?"
"Which means if you make love to me right now I could very well find myself pregnant."
He couldn't move towards her fast enough.
Though Hermione quickly reminded him that while she'd theoretically already be fertile, every witch's body was different and it could take some time. Draco waved aside her cautious tempering of expectations and they'd made love several times last night. To know that this woman considered him fit to give her a child and then embark on the journey of parenthood together would probably inspire every Patronus he ever cast from this day forth.
So if Hermione thought he'd changed his mind this morning, he needed to thoroughly disabuse her of that ridiculous notion.
"It's enough that you'd want a family with me. You are enough for me. Remember what we discussed? We agreed to try. If it happens, it happens, and we'll see this through together."
He buried his hands in her hair and kissed her so thoroughly that he felt her on the cusp of succumbing to yet another round in bed, when she pulled away and giggled. "Your evil persuasion tactics will not distract me. Off to the café with you."
She shoved him lightly away and sunk back against the mattress and pulled the sheet around her body.
"You love me," he smirked down at her.
"Prat," she threw back and stuck her tongue out childishly.
Draco had just crossed the threshold when he heard her call out, "I love you!"
Hermione never let him leave their home without saying it to him.
Arriving in the Muggle world, he entered the coffee shop, already bustling with patrons. The elderly owner worked the till today and given the events of last night and this morning, Draco never had more affection for an acquaintance in his entire life. After she'd taken his order and accepted his payment, Draco decided he'd been aloof and nameless for long enough.
"Thank you so much...?"
"Elsie," she supplied.
He thought it over for a moment, then ploughed ahead.
"This is a long time coming but," he held out his hand to the woman, "I'm Draco."
Elsie shook his hand and let out a matronly chuckle. "Oh I know that dear, your wife sends us a Christmas card every year."
Draco grinned. "She's good like that."
"Odd for you to be on your own, she well this morning?"
"Quite. I offered to pick up our favorites and let her have a bit of a lie-in."
She smiled toothily at him. "Oh you are a keeper aren't you? There's an extra scone in it for you, dear," she said and handed a paper bag and the beverages to Draco.
He made his way across the busy weekend thoroughfare toward the alley from whence he came. Overcome with a sudden sense of sentimentality, Draco looked back at the little coffee shop that had meant so much to him and Hermione; from their chance meeting, to their budding friendship, to his marriage proposal, to countless mornings of falling even more in love long after she'd agreed to be his wife.
He shook his head with a fond smile at the serendipitous name emblazoned across the shop's windows: A Fresh Start Café.
The younger version of Draco had snorted derisively at the saccharine and far too on-the-nose name, but today, Draco could only summon immense gratitude at what both those words and that place meant to him.
He twisted into apparition, appearing the next moment in the traveling parlor of the home he shared with his wife and climbed the stairs to their bedchamber.
Draco didn't know what awaited him and Hermione in the years to come. He only knew that right now, he had a beautiful woman waiting in bed for tea, scones, her husband, and if they were very, very lucky, a new addition to their lives together.
A fresh start.
FIN