ACA: Chapters 18, 19

Chapter 18

“To get through the hardest journey we need take only one step at a time, but we must keep on stepping.”

~ Chinese proverb

It was two days to Christmas holidays and Hogwarts was buzzing with holiday spirit. The decorations this year were more flamboyant to mark the end of the war. The Great Hall shimmered with reds, greens, and golds. Live doves fluttered about the castle and mistletoes grew wherever earnest lips met.

Yes, old man Dumbledore is really having fun, Draco thought as he dalloped a spoon of chocolate pudding and reached for his mug of hot chocolate, floating with fat white marshmallows.

He glanced around the table gloomily, knowing this was the first time he would have to remain at the castle. Bitterly, he realized that even Potter was leaving with the Weasleys. He knew Hermione would visit the Burrow and probably wanted to spend time with her parents, or he would have insisted she stay. There was no use spoiling her fun for his sake.

He finished his breakfast and traced his way to the library, thinking he might as well find some good books to divulge his loneliness. The place was utterly deserted. With the holidays coming, most students had given up on homework at the prospect of procrastination. Some, like his overly-smart girlfriend, had already started on their holiday work.

He skimmed the titles in the potions section, letting his fingers run over the dust covered, ancient spines. His eyes latched onto a particularly old book and he picked it up, dusting it lightly before cracking open the cover. The pages were yellow and smelled strongly of mold. He perused the front cover and found it dated back to the 18^th century.

Intrigued, Draco held his breath as he scanned the pages, typed in an old font that made deciphering the words a little difficult.  He read over the brews for a time, fascinated by some of the ingredients used and their effects, before the smell made his chest hurt and he had to snap the book shut. Coughing, he replaced the book and moved down the section, fanning at the air.

“Draco?” Her sudden voice startled him in his tracks.

“What are you doing here?” Hermione asked with a light smile when he didn’t respond.

“Just…looking for something to read,” he replied, and promptly changed the subject. “Had your breakfast?”

“Yeah. Harry was asking if I wanted to visit Hagrid later. Do you want to come?”

He shrugged, not particularly feeling welcome. “Not really…Can’t we just stay inside?”

She raised her eyebrows and he knew she could see through his lie. “What’s the matter?” she asked, rubbing his arms soothingly.

He leaned in to her touch and tangled his fingers through her unruly locks, letting his lips brush her neck, making her shiver.

“You’re going away,” he whispered. “I…want to spend time with you alone.”

She drew back, startled. Her cheeks slightly tinged. “Draco! That-you just had to ask you know. And won’t you be going home too?”

He felt his heart clench and looked away. “No. Mother’s in Germany. I’ll…probably spend Christmas here.”

He heard her small sigh and then felt her slender arms snake about his waist, her head resting on his shoulder. “It’s your first year without your father, isn’t it?”

He snorted. “It’s nothing like that and we haven’t celebrated Christmas since the start of war.” He didn’t need to explain why. She understood.

She turned him around and peered up into his eyes. “Would you like to come home with me?”

He started, “What?”

“I mean it,” she earnestly replied, clasping his hand tightly in hers. “My parents would love to meet you, Draco.”

He shook his head. “No-I can’t possibly-“

“Why not?” she retorted. “I don’t see a problem with it.”

“If my mother finds out…” He cleared his throat.

“She doesn’t know, does she?” she quietly asked and he sighed, a bit wearily.

“She doesn’t know a lot of things.” He gazed at her thoughtfully for a moment. “Your parents really wouldn’t mind?”

Her face erupted into a bright smile. “No, they’d love to have you! Will you really come?”

Unable to say no to such a hopeful look, Draco gave in, and found himself pulled into a warm kiss, unaware that an innocent mistletoe had announced their mischief.

**

The morning of their last day, they packed their trunks together, dumping their books in Draco’s second trunk. Hermione pulled open her handbag and filled it with both their toiletries, knowing they would need them later.

“Are you taking anything to read?” she asked and he looked up from her stack of scarves he was stuffing into the bag.

“Um…no, that’s fine. Did you take my comb?”

“Yeah-“

“Then that’s all I’ll need. I’m going to write Mother a note-let her know where I’m going. I’ll be back.”

She nodded and watched him go, a warm feeling engulfing her. She couldn’t believe she was going to spend Christmas with Draco Malfoy at her house! Who would’ve ever thought-she shook her head. No, it wouldn’t do to think like this anymore. Draco had proved he had changed over and over. There was no reason to doubt him anymore and no reason why she couldn’t just accept these transitions. He was a part of her now, a part of her she couldn’t imagine living without.

When she came down carrying her bag, she found him stroking the magnificent eagle owl as he carried it to the window and let him go. The owl fluttered out with powerful thrusts of its wings and he watched it go, looking a little…lost.

She cautiously touched his arm and he pulled her close, wrapping his arms about her shoulders and resting his chin on top of her head.

“I hope she takes it well,” Hermione whispered and she felt him nod.

“Me too,” he sighed, “Me too.”

**

Needless to say, the Gryffindors were more than a little shocked when she came down with Draco in tow and told them of their plans.

“Malfoy…in muggle London?” Harry slowly said, as though saying it out loud made it more real.

“Really Potter, is it that hard to believe? I’ve been around the pubs before-without anyone’s knowledge of course,” Draco replied and Harry raised an eyebrow in disbelief, but didn’t press him.  He had spotted Ginny trotting towards him and was determined to keep the peace.

“’Mione,” he spoke quietly so that Ginny wouldn’t overhear, “I’ve talked to her and …she’s agreed to overlook the situation.”

Hermione nodded, knowing this was no better. She was just going to ignore them now, but at least she wouldn’t jab at Draco anymore. For his part, Draco remained silent as Weasley snaked her arm through Potter’s and shared polite words with Hermione. She hardly looked at him but then, Draco wasn’t dying for her attention either. Her brother, he noted, was nowhere to be seen.

He followed them to the waiting carriages, pulled by threstals. Draco raked his eyes over their sleek, black bodies which looked as though a sheet of leather had been stretched taunt over their protruding ribs. Despite their lack of beauty, they were fascinating creatures.

“Can you see them?” Hermione softly asked after they had all climbed in.

He nodded and added, “Since fourth year…you?”

“No, and I hope I never will.”

Something clenched inside him at her words. He didn’t know exactly why, but he suddenly felt nauseas. Turning his face towards the wind, he took deep breaths as the conversation picked up.

“So where’s Ron?” Hermione finally managed to ask the question that had been eating at them all.

“He decided to bunk with Neville and Seamus,” Harry answered and Ginny suddenly reached across to take her hand.

“I just want you to know, this doesn’t change anything. You’re still invited for Christmas at the Burrow…and,” she added after a little shrug, “so is Malfoy.”

Hermione smiled weakly. “Thanks.”

And Draco gave her a silent nod, appreciating that at least she was trying to be civil. He knew why they didn’t favor him and he didn’t blame them for it. His own father had tried to kill her and he had accidently poisoned her brother in an attempt to get Dumbledore.

The rest of the ride was uneventful and Draco tuned himself out to their idle conversations. As much as he had come to care for Hermione, he had no interest in learning about her friends, although Potter when alone was sometimes pleasant company.

So he wondered what Hermione’s parents were like and how they would greet him. He knew they lived on the outskirts of London and fixed people’s teeth for a living. Apparently it was a respected position, to be a dentist. 

The carriage came to a halt at the platform and they made their way to the red and black steam engine as it blew its whistle noisily.

“I’m going to find Ron,” Harry said once they had situated themselves in an empty compartment, “tell him where we are.”

Draco wished he had brought a book as the two girls began gossiping. He watched the scenery flit by for a time, till the speeding train made him dizzy. Tearing his eyes away, he leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes.

“Draco?” He felt Hermione’s hand on his shoulder and heard the concern in her voice.

“’M fine, just tired,” he replied and sank down to rest his head on her shoulder. She brushed back her bushy hair and weaved her fingers through his, resuming her talk with Weasley and Potter, who had returned a while ago.

Draco dozed to the pleasant sound of her voice. When she laughed, her voice reverberated through him, lulling him to sleep on swift wings.

**

“…co? Draco, come one wake up…”

Draco moaned, but fluttered his eyes open. He shivered, feeling suddenly cold, and felt arms pulling him in a warm hug. He squinted in the yellow light of the compartment and saw his girlfriend’s blurred face as she smoothed back his ruffled hair.

“Are we there?” he asked, his voice rough.

“Almost. You’ve been sleeping for more than five hours. Aren’t you hungry?”

He nodded, perfectly content to sink back in her arms with a sigh. He didn’t think the train’s violent motion would let keep anything down.

“Where’re the others?” he asked, noticing the empty compartment.

“Out to hunt the food trolley. It came by a while ago, but Ginny’s hungry again.”

“Oh…You didn’t eat?”

“Had a pumpkin pasty. I’ve bought you a couple chocolate frogs, in case you want them later.”

He nodded his thanks, sliding down so that his head rested in her lap. She smiled down at him and resumed stroking his hair. He hummed at her touch, reaching up to pull her down gently by her curls and tilting his head so that their lips met.

They kissed softly, as though savoring each other. He could taste the pasty on her lips. When they pulled apart, Hermione’s cheeks were a furious pink, and Draco felt something rush through him at the knowledge that he affected her so.

The compartment door suddenly slid open and the two turned wide eyes at Potter and Weasley who walked in with arms full of assorted sweets and candy.

“Not exactly a healthy dinner, is it Potter?” Draco remarked, diverting his attention off Hermione so she could compose herself. That did nothing to hide her from Weasley’s scrutiny however, and he almost rolled his eyes at her frown.

If Harry realized what they and been doing, he was awfully good at concealing his embarrassment. “Nope, but it’s all they had. Want a pasty?” He held up the orange cake, but Draco shook his head.  

“I already had some, Harry,” Hermione said before he could ask, and then promptly changed the subject. “How long more do you think? I hope the weather doesn’t stall us.”

Draco heard the nervousness in her voice and casually sat up to spare her further discomfort. She laced her fingers through his though, squeezing his hand reassuringly. He gave her a small smile and turned his gaze out the window. It had begun to rain steadily and he knew it would get harder as they neared London.

He didn’t mind. He so loved the rain and the cold. Involuntarily, he shivered. Now if only his body cold tolerate it…

**

The Hogwarts Express pulled into the platform at fifteen minutes to seven. There was a great buzz of students as they hurried out the compartments, flooding the platform in a flurry of color and robes. Families stood outside to welcome their children. Ginny hurried to the Weasleys and Harry followed. Hermione held Draco’s hand as she led him to the group.

She spotted Ron as he bent down to hug Molly Weasley and her heart clenched.

“Harry! Hermione!” Molly cried embracing Harry before bustling over to her.

“Merry Christmas, Mrs. Weasley,” she smiled, giving her a one armed hug.

“Merry Christmas dear,” she patted, her eyes straying to the nervous blonde beside her.

Hermione thought it as good a time as any. “Mrs. Weasley, this is Draco-you remember him?”

It was apparently the worn thing to say because she saw Molly’s face darken. Of course she would remember the boy whose father had almost murdered her children. And then what Draco himself had done…

But then she saw their entwined hands and a small, sad smile graced her lips. “Of course dear, I remember him,” she extended her hand and lightly touched his cheek. “Merry Christmas, dear.”

Draco swallowed hard, and managed to nod, too shocked to say more. Hermione couldn’t stop the tear that leaked from her eyes, but she hastily wiped them when she saw everyone had been watching the scene.

“You will be coming to the Burrow as planned, I hope?” Arthur said, “Both of you?”

Hermione laughed, “Yes, yes we will,” she promised and looked to Draco who still seemed speechless.

He suddenly cleared his throat and held out his hand to Mr. Weasley. “I know this may be a bit late, but I want to apologize…for everything. What my father did-what I did-“

But Arthur didn’t let him finish, clasping his pale hand in a firm shake and clapping his back good naturedly.

“It’s never too late to start over,” he replied.

Hermione caught Ron’s eye, but he looked away and her heart sank. She wanted him to accept her again-to be friends. Hadn’t they gone through a war together? Helped defeat the greatest dark wizard and saved the world? How long more, she wondered, would it take for him to forgive her?

Chapter 19

“The greatest thing in family life is to take a hint when a hint is intended — and not to take a hint when a hint isn't intended.”

~ Robert Frost

“What just happened?” Draco asked as he pushed the trolley cart towards the barrier. They emerged from the barrier a second later and arrived onto the muggle station of London City.

“They forgave you,” Hermione replied, looping her arm through his as they made their way towards the awaiting city buses.

“But they’re supposed to hate me-and yet they invited me for Christmas!”

She laughed. “It’s good, isn’t it? Maybe now, you can start to forgive yourself.”

He shrugged and all the incredulity faded off his face to bring about the haunted look in his eyes. “The Weasel didn’t forgive you though.”

“He’ll come around,” she easily replied, knowing that she couldn’t burden Draco with her problems as well. “He just needs time-Ron’s always been like that. He gets mad easily, like a toddler, but then eventually realizes his mistakes and is positively sweet after.”

Draco noticed the sad smile dawning her lips and he bit his own to stamp the guilt that rose within. Not for the first time, he felt as though he had come between the two-spoiled both their happiness. 

“We’re going to have to board the bus,” she said as they neared a bus stop.

“A muggle bus?”he asked and she nodded.

“I didn’t want mum and dad to exert themselves by picking us up. It’s late as it is and it’s a long drive.”

Draco understood. It was already seven. He supposed they would reach past eight. Hermione saw their trunks into the bus’s luggage rack, ignoring the funny looks the man gave them, and led Draco inside the bus. They climbed a flight of narrow stairs to the top level and, after she paid for the tickets, chose secluded seats in the very back.

He sat next to the window and she sank against him, leaning into his embrace as they watched the bus pull away from the curb.

“We’re almost there,” she sighed, feeling sleepy.

He rested his chin atop her head and nodded. “Sleep if you have to. I’ll wake you when we pass Surrey.”

Hermione didn’t need to be told twice. She was out like a light in minutes. Draco held her close, breathing in the sweet lilac perfume and marveling at the fact that this witch belonged to him for reasons he could not fathom. Really, what had he ever done to deserve her?

He watched the darkness descend on London and then a light rain began to fall, growing stronger as they passed Surrey. She was still deeply asleep and he was content to let her be till the station finally came in sight.

“Hermione? We’re here,” he whispered, gently nudging her awake. She mumbled something incoherent and cracked her eyes open.

“Hm?” she groaned, looking up at him bleary-eyed.

He smiled. “Wipe that look off your face or they’ll think you’ve come home drunk.”

“Who-oh!” and she sat up, scolding him for not waking her up earlier. She dove into her bag and pulled out a wipe, furiously scrubbing at her face before running a comb through her tangled mane. Draco watched her quietly, amused, and took his own comb out to settle his mussed hair.

They descended the stairs just as the bus lurched to a stop and followed the small crowd out. Draco went to grab their trunks while she searched for her parents. He had just secured their luggage when he spotted Hermione running into the arms of a slim woman who held an umbrella. A man in a trench coat joined them a minute later and the three hugged, talking and laughing excitedly.

For a minute, Draco was lost in their bliss. He thought, this is how a family should be, before reality reeled him back. The family was walking towards him now.

“Mum, Dad, I want you to meet Draco-the boy I told you about,” Hermione introduced, tugging Draco’s arm and pulling him closer.

“Hello Sir, Ma’m,” Draco replied, shaking hands with both and feeling extremely out of his element.

Hermione’s mother returned his greeting and didn’t offer much more, but her father seemed much more comfortable. He picked up Hermione’s trunk and Draco quickly followed with the other two as Mr. Granger began asking him questions about Quidditch, a sport which Hermione had never quite managed to explain.

Hermione and her Mum followed in their wake, and she was glad when he began talking with fervor, answering her father’s questions politely, unable to hide the boyish enthusiasm.

“He seems different now then how we’ve seen him,” Mrs. Granger spoke, breaking Hermione from her trance.

“Oh, yes, well we were younger than, weren’t we? And he’s really not the same he was before mum. Things’ve changed in the wizarding world-he’s changed.”

Mrs. Granger pursed her lips, intending to say more, but knowing this was not the time nor place. She asked after the Weasley’s instead and Harry Potter, receiving animated and welcome news which she liked to hear.

Once in the van, with Draco and Hermione in the back seat while her father drove, silence ensued. Draco watched the London night life as they drove down the expressway. He had always flooed to the pubs and this sort of view was new to him. Hermione pointed out places of interest to him here and there and he listened, fascinated.

It was twenty minutes before they turned off the road and into a quiet street with rows upon rows of little quaint houses. The Granger’s was easily among the largest. Their house was nothing like Draco had expected. A two story English home, it had a neat lawn and budding rose bushes. A tall fence separated the neighbors.

The windows of the house were large and welcoming. There was even a circular tower in the very back. Another car, a dark blue cruiser, was parked in the driveway. Up the flight of flat stairs they went into the house.

Draco appreciated the homely smell and feel of the thick rugged house. The living room was comfortably furnished with all sorts of muggle appliances. Hermione made her way up the spiraling stairs and Draco and her father followed with the trunks.

“Here’s the guest room,” she said, pushing open a door a ways down the corridor that had a large bed, desk, chair, wardrobe, and adjoining bathroom. A painting depicting lush bamboo hung over the bed. The walls, Draco noted, were a shade of green.

She followed him inside as he parked his trunk in a corner and pushed aside the curtains to gaze down the silent driveway.

“It’s so quiet,” he said as she joined him.

“Wait till seven in the morning,” she chuckled, “Our neighbors like to announce their activities early on and the man across-Mr. Rogers-always mows the lawn when he’s sure everyone is still sleeping.”

He smiled and then suddenly turned serious eyes in her. “You’re parents-are you sure they don’t mind?”

She looked at him puzzled. “Why do you think they would?”

He shrugged. “Your mum seemed a bit wary-“ he was going to say suspicious, but-

“You just leave them to me, Draco. They think you’re still the snob we met back in the bookstore. They just need time to see for themselves, is all.”

Draco wanted to believe her-he really did-but he knew there were some things that simply couldn’t be forgotten, no matter how much time passed.

“Get some sleep,” she whispered and they shared a brief kiss before she retreated out the room, enclosing him in darkness…

**

Hermione had known they would have to talk soon and so, she joined her parents in the living room.

“Hermione,” her mother began, “Are you sure it is best to house the boy?”

“We thought you hated him,” added her father, “and it’s understandable, after the way he has treated both you and your friends.”

Hermione sighed and clasped her hands, gathering her words patiently.

“I know. I used to hate him too, but he’s changed mum and he’s already friends with Harry. He’s been through some tough times, just like we all have after the war. I’m not saying that I’ve completely forgotten what he’s done, but if he’s trying to be a better man, don’t you think we should help him?”

Her father nodded, but he looked grave. Her mother, she realized, still needed convincing.

“What about Ronald Weasley?” she asked.

Hermione faltered. “Wh-what about him?”

“I thought you liked him.”

Hermione shrugged. “Yeah, I guess I did, but…Things change, mum. I see him just as a friend now.”

“And this boy?”

“As something more.” She raised her head high and stared unabashed at her parents. “He means a lot to me. I care for him more than I’ve ever cared for Ron-or anyone for that matter.”

She sighed and suddenly seemed very small in the cushioned armchair. “He’s all alone, Mum. Everyone hates him back at school for what he did and…”

“And?” her father pressed, but Hermione shook her head, fighting back tears. Bringing up Draco’s disease wasn’t her business.

“I just want to spend time with him,” she replied once she was calm. “He had no one to spend Christmas with. That’s why I invited him over, but if he’s in the way, we’ll-“

“No one’s in the way,” her father cut in. He reached over and clasped her mother’s hand. “He’s welcome to stay here, ‘Mione, if he means that much to you.”

And her mother nodded, giving her a small smile that Hermione returned with a bright thank-you.

**

Morning.

 Draco blearily stared at the white ceiling, wondering for a second where he was before all the events flooded in. He was at the Granger’s. He turned on his side to stare out the window. He could hear what had woken him: Mr. Roger’s lawn mower.

Why did muggles use such noisy things? he wondered as he debated whether to leave the comfortable bed or not. Despite yesterday’s long journey, he wasn’t feeling worse for the wear and he was glad for that small mercy.

He couldn’t imagine burdening Hermione’s parents with his problems when they had been kind enough to share their Christmas (and their daughter) with him. Not for the hundredth time, he wondered why it had taken him so long to see the goodness in other people. Perhaps being marked by Death gave one clearer vision.

He smiled bitterly at the paradox and with a long sigh, shook his head. He didn’t want to have ill thoughts in the morning. The door behind him suddenly creaked open and Draco lay still when he heard soft feet pad closer.

Something brushed against the blankets before a brown furball emerged from under the bed. It was a furry little kitten. It dropped on its skinny rump before him and fixed him with the cat-like eerie stare.

“Not a stray, are you?” Draco asked when the animal began to lick its paws. He watched it for a time, marveling at it’ s narrow, pointed face and golden eyes, before his own necessities drew him to the bathroom.

When he emerged, the kitten had jumped onto his bed and made quick work of disheveling his blankets. Draco crossed over to the window and peeked through the curtains. London was as dreary as ever, a light fog clinging to the otherwise deserted street. He watched a bearded man cut the grass with some hulky cart that was making all the noise. A car some ways down backed out of its driveway before speeding away.

Everything seemed peaceful and it filled Draco with an unexplainable calm. He sat back down on the bed, knees drawn to his chest, and watched the kitten as it pawed the blankets. Tentatively, he stretched his arm out. The animal paused to look at him, its ears taunt. Draco leaned closer and when he was sure the kitten wouldn’t chew his arm off, brought his fingers down on its head. He scratched it behind its ear and it purred, edging closer till its legs brushed Draco’s.

“Not so fierce, are you?” he murmured and laughed when the kitten planted its front paws on his knees and stretched, showing off its canine teeth with a large yawn.

“I see you’ve made friends with Clyde,” came a voice from the door and Draco looked up, smiling when Hermione padded inside. She was wearing flannel pink pajamas and her hair was as messy as ever. Still, Draco couldn’t help thinking that she looked beautiful.

“Clyde, huh? Is he a Keazle?”

“How can you tell?” Hermione asked as she took a seat across from him. Clyde bounded into her lap and demanded to be petted.

“His general mannerisms. Normal cats aren’t so wary and he hardly jumps if you do anything unexpected.”

“He is. I had another Keazle, back at Hogwarts. He hasn’t returned since the war. I guess I bought Clyde just to keep me company.”

Draco watched Hermione cradle the fur ball as though he were a baby and laughed when she tickled him, making Clyde squirm and hiss playfully.

“Do you have any pets?” she asked.

“Hm…I had a snake for a couple years.”

“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”

He grinned and straightened his legs when Clyde jumped over to him. He let the kitten climb into his lap, where it curled up, his back to Hermione.

“He’s sulking,” she informed him. “He doesn’t like to be tickled.”

Draco brushed Clyde’s soft fur, feeling the animal’s warmth seep into him.

“Father bought me parakeets once, on my fifteenth birthday. I had them for almost a week. They were beautiful to look at-shades of blue and a dark beak.”

“What happened to them?” she asked when he continued stroking Clyde.

“Nothing. I set them free-couldn’t stand seeing them in a cage. Father wasn’t too pleased, they were expensive after all, but I think he understood.”

Hermione nodded and silently watched him as he picked up Clyde and touched his nose to the kitten’s. She didn’t know why, but she felt suddenly sad watching him interact with her pet.

“Ready for breakfast?” she asked, hoping to distract her own thoughts.

“Are your parents up?”

She nodded. “They ate and left for their morning walk. We have the kitchen to ourselves.”

He smiled and set Clyde down as Hermione stood. “I’ll be down then.”

Hermione closed the door as she left, Clyde trailing in her wake like a faithful little puppy.