Chapter Text
Draco stepped in front of her slightly and she clutched at his sleeve, peering at his father from behind his shoulder. Lucius sneered at them, not even bothering to hide his disgust.
“I’m sure the Headmaster would be displeased to know the event coordinator was so…distracted back here, when chaos was taking over the party back at the Great Hall.”
Draco looked down at her, nodding his head to the left. “Go, make sure everything’s okay. I’ll be fine here,” he promised, begging her with his eyes to get away from the threat of his father. She nodded silently, squeezing his hand gently before stepping around him and hurrying back towards the Great Hall, the skirt of her gown swishing as she half walked, half ran from them.
Draco looked at his father, meeting his gaze. He would not apologise for his actions; he would not give him the satisfaction.
“We’re leaving,” his father said, his tone clipped and furious. Something in his eyes promised pain if Draco refused. He nodded once and followed his father to Snape’s office, stepping quickly through the floo and back to the Manor. Pansy was already seated on one of the leather sofas, her makeup ruined again, mascara running down her cheeks. Her eyes and nose were red from crying, and her lip trembled, threatening more tears. Draco sat next to her, his thigh brushing against hers - the only comfort he could offer under their father’s scrutinising gaze.
“Your stunt this evening was the greatest affront I’ve ever had to endure from the two of you,” he began, his voice a menacing, snake-like whisper. “You wait for the most important moment of the decade for our family to pull a twin-swapping stunt like the gods-damned Weasley twins?” He turned to face Pansy abruptly, his face contorting with fury as he snarled, “After everything we have been through because of you , you have the audacity to show up tonight to represent our company?” He scoffed loudly, “As if I would ever let some slu*t like you tarnish our carefully cultivated reputation.” Pansy flinched at his words and Draco clenched his knuckles tightly under his robes, trying to breathe slowly through his nose to calm down.
“Father,” Pansy gasped, “you know that I know everything about House Malfoy! I had the speech down perfectly! I bloody wrote the damn thing!” He glared at her and she shrank back once more.
“That doesn’t change the fact, Pansy,” he sneered, “that everything you touch ends up ruined. You’ve always wanted to be my favourite,” he taunted, “always wanted to be number one. Daddy’s little girl,” he mocked, “but you have always lacked the discipline it takes to earn my respect, and the respect of the Sacred 28. So I did what I had to do; I interceded. I spun it. I reminded our audience that the young Malfoy Heir is still in school, with obligations and duties to his school.”
He turned towards Draco, his eyes narrowing. “Our little celebrity , our self proclaimed Romeo, who cares about family only when it falls in line with his busy schedule.” He chuckled darkly. “Poor Draco, who comes crawling to Daddy on his damned knees when he’s suspended from the Quidditch Team, but can’t fulfil his duty for one evening when I ask him to,” he tutted, his tongue clicking against the back side of his teeth. He stared down at Draco and Draco’s heart thudded in his chest as his palms sweat. “So, Draco, what’s it going to be? Do you only open your mouth to stick your tongue down your little mudblood pet’s throat? What a life she must envision for the two of you; you, stuck in some hovel of a muggle town, pushing your father-in-law around in his wheelchair as you all read to each other and bake pies.”
Draco stood up, enraged. “Are you having her followed?”
Lucius smirked. “That girl will never amount to anything, and if she does, it’s only because she slept with fools too stupid to realise she was using them as a means to an end. I will not allow -”
“SHUT UP!” Draco shouted, his breaths ragged, his fists clenched so tightly his nails were cutting into his palms.
“Excuse me?” Lucius asked, startled.
“If you say one more word against her -” Draco’s words were cut off when Lucius’s hand flew out so quickly that Draco didn’t see it coming, only felt it make contact with his face so forcefully that his head snapped back and he toppled onto the floor. Pansy gasped loudly, moving to his side. Draco looked up at his father, wiping the blood from his lip where it had split when his father’s signet ring had made contact. Lucius crouched low before him, his eyes glinting maliciously.
“I have done my research on Hermione Granger, as I do on anyone who tries to worm their way into our good graces. I know her father had to sell out his Partnership in their family Dentistry business, and that he now relies solely on his wife’s income and the pies he sells without a permit from inside his home. I know that they’ve refinanced their house twice and that Hermione attends Hogwarts on a scholarship. It’s a shame, really: if he hadn’t lost his livelihood after the accident, they would have easily been able to afford Hogwarts without the need for a scholarship. One meeting with the Board of Directors and that scholarship goes away. A few charms and her family will be out of their home. A lunch with an old friend from Oxford and I’ll see to it that she never so much as steps foot on their grounds.”
Draco felt frozen, trapped by his father’s threats. Lucius reached out and patted Draco’s cheek roughly.
“I will destroy her,” he promised, rising and staring down at Draco once more. “There will be no more warnings. End your dalliance with her, or I’ll end her and her entire family.”
Lucius turned on his heel and walked out of the room without a second glance. Pansy and Draco sat in stunning silence, too hurt from their own conversations to do more than clutch at each other, knowing there were no words of comfort they could offer each other.
Draco ignored the journal entry, and then also ignored Hermione’s owl when he hadn’t responded to the journal, asking if he was okay. He took a drought of Dreamless Sleep potion and sank into oblivion. He dressed slowly the next morning, his mind and body numb. He would have to ignore her, for her own sake. His father had ensured it, stealing whatever semblance of control Draco had thought he had accumulated. He and Pansy returned to the school together.
Theo spotted them walking across the courtyard first. “There they are! The incomparable Malfoy twins!”
Dominick whipped his head around, joining in on the fun. “Pansy Malfoy, looking outrageously good, as always! Tell me, Pansy,” he threw an arm over her shoulder as he grinned at her, “do you have a licence for that deadly stare?” She rolled her eyes at him and shrugged him off.
“Goodbye, idiots,” she said dismissively.
Dominick sighed as he watched her strut off. “She wants me,” he said decisively, turning back to Draco, Theo, and Blaise, who all ignored him. Dominick and Blaise began walking and talking animatedly about the Gala. Theo fell into step with Draco, nodding at Draco’s split lip.
“Did Astoria do that, or did Blaise try to beat you into silence over what you saw?”
Draco glared at Theo. “I walked into a door. Got a little too sloshed at the Gala, that’s all.”
“You should have joined us, we were all in the Restricted Section, throwing an illegal party.”
“We’ll make up for it later. How about a party this evening, boys?” Draco spoke loud enough to draw Dominick and Blaise back into the conversation. Dominick turned to him and placed both hands enthusiastically on his shoulders and shook him lightly.
“ There is the Malfoy I’ve been waiting for! Where have you been the last few weeks?” Theo crowed and Draco rolled his eyes as he followed him into the Castle.
He broke away from his friend group when he noticed Pansy and Lupin talking quietly in the corner. He disillusioned himself and stepped closer, listening in.
“What happened, why did you look so upset the other day?” Lupin asked her, his voice soft, his expression tight with worry.
“I have to go to class,” Pansy said, trying to avoid the conversation, side-stepping him to continue down the hall. Lupin reached out and captured her wrist with his hand, drawing her back to him.
“Let’s run away,” he said fervently. Draco raised his eyebrows at the sudden change.
“What?” Pansy asked breathlessly.
“You said you would run away with me; that you’d transfer to Beauxbaton’s or another school, one in America, maybe. I can get a job elsewhere and -”
Pansy cut him off, her voice pained, “You said you didn’t want to,” she whispered fiercely.
“Forget what I said,” Lupin said hurriedly, adamantly. “I can’t take it anymore. I need you, Pansy. I love you!”
“You say that now,” Pansy said, her voice cracking, “but later you’ll talk about responsibility.”
“I love you,” Lupin insisted.
“You love this job,” she replied.
He shook his head. “I love you more. Please, let’s just get out of here.”
A hopeful grin was beginning to spread across Pansy’s face. “You’ve gone mental.”
“Meet me at our spot on Thursday at five and we’ll discuss everything,” Lupin whispered excitedly.
Pansy nodded quickly, a light blush of excitement forming on her cheeks, and then they separated, disappearing into the crowd. Draco watched after them for a long time, before cancelling the disillusion charm and walking to class. He spotted Hermione, who waved excitedly and smiled when she saw him. He brushed past her, his eyes sliding over her as if she meant nothing, noting the way her face fell as he passed. He hated Lucius he realised; truly hated him.
Dumbledore stopped him near his first class. “Mister Malfoy,” he greeted him.
“Sir,” Draco greeted, nodding politely.
“Miss Granger spoke highly of you yesterday. Praised your ingenuity and resourcefulness on the Committee. She insisted, rather forcefully, that in addition to providing her letter of recommendation to Oxford, that I also allow you to rejoin the team.” Dumbledore looked over his half-moon spectacles, his eyes twinkling slightly as a rare, lopsided grin formed. “I do not often allow others to tell me what to do, Mister Malfoy, but in this case, I fear Miss Granger may have bested me. I really would like us to beat Durmstrang for the third year in a row.”
“Thank you, Sir,” Draco said quickly, his heart hammering excitedly. He was back on the Quidditch Team! His heart felt as if it had dropped into his stomach - Hermione had done that, and he couldn't even thank her. She was going to hate him, he knew it, and he could do nothing about it.
On the Quidditch Pitch later he heard Dominick say “Malfoy, your girlfriend is here,” in a sing-song voice, nodding to where Hermione was striding purposefully across the Pitch and staring up at him, her hands on her hips.
He sighed and angled his broom down, hovering in the air so that she had to angle her head back sharply to look up at him.
“Can you come down here?”
“What’s wrong?” Draco tried to make his voice hard and cold like his father’s, and tried to replicate his sneer as he’d done easily in the past. It felt wrong now, on his face.
“You’re being an utter arse!”
“Am I?”
“Stop playing stupid and tell me why you’re ignoring me,” Hermione demanded, her cheeks red, tears welling in her eyes.
He clenched his teeth and looked past her, ignoring her further.
“What happened last night? Was it your father? Did he do that to you?” she asked as she gestured to the cut on his lip.
“You know nothing of my father, or what he is capable of,” Draco said darkly.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He smirked at her, pulling his broom back so that he was hovering even further above her. “Did you think that we would frolick off into the sunset because of one little kiss?” His voice was taunting, disinterested.
“It was more than a kiss -”
He cut her off with a laugh. “You didn’t really believe that someone like me would be interested in someone like you, did you?”
Her face crumpled, a tear sliding down her cheek. “Why are you acting like this?”
He rose a few inches higher, angling slightly away from her. “I’m sorry if you didn’t understand what this was, Henrietta,” he said, before turning and zooming away, gripping his broom tightly and biting his cheek to keep himself from glancing back at her.
“Draco!” He heard his mother’s concerned voice through the cloud of firewhisky currently numbing his thoughts and feelings.
“Draco, darling, are you alright?” her voice was filled with concern. “Come on, stand up,” she grunted, helping him to stand and throwing his arm over her shoulder. She noticed the cut on his lip. “What happened?”
“Goyle got me with an accidental bludger at Quidditch,” he slurred.
“Merlin,” she winced, rubbing his cheek softly. “Come on, let’s get you to bed,” she said, half dragging him to his room and dumping him across his mattress.
“Mum?” He felt silly, calling her that. He’d been calling her ‘mother’ since he was five and his father had corrected him, telling him to stop being a baby.
“Yes, darling?” Narcissa turned towards him, concerned. Mippy brought in another drought and deposited it neatly on the nightstand before disappearing again. Malfoy picked it up, his eyes trailing over the words “Dudley Dursley’s Digestif Aid; Reworked by Marcus Belbly for Wizarding Hangovers!” Draco swallowed it, wincing at the powdery aftertaste.
“Have you ever wished you were someone else?”
She stared at him, her eyebrows pulled down, her lip jutting out in concern. “I think everyone does, sometimes, love.”
“Were you ever…unhappy?” Draco asked.
“I…I have been unhappy in love before ... before your father, yes,” she hedged. He stared at her, waiting. “I think everyone reaches a point in life where they more or less know who they are and they stop pursuing things that don’t fit. I threw myself into my role as a wife and a mother.” She brushed a lock of hair off his forehead and cupped his cheek.
“What happened to him - the other guy?”
She sighed dejectedly. “He followed a different path. Draco, you must understand: sometimes people make each other unhappy, no matter how much they love each other. It’s better, sometimes, to simply…let go.”
“It hurts,” he protested.
“What does?”
“Letting go,” he whispered softly, too sloshed out to be embarrassed by how pitiful he sounded.
“I think you’ll find you can handle more than you think if you believe what you are doing is best for everyone. Sleep now,” she commanded, leaning forward to kiss his forehead.
Draco sat in the library, tucked into a corner table behind a row of bookshelves. He could see Hermione through the gaps in the shelves, and he watched her, missing her. Astoria walked over and sat on the edge of the table.
“If it isn’t our favourite little mudblood,” she crooned, her voice thick with disdain. Hermione ignored her, writing steadily on a piece of parchment. “You’re handling your rejection well. I’m sad I missed it. Dominick said it was very dramatic. ‘Draco, Draco, why? Why can’t we be together, Draco please,’” she mimicked, her voice high and nasally as she impersonated Hermione. “You know, whoever didn’t know from the start that it wouldn’t work out wasn’t just blind…they were stupid.” Astoria scoffed.
Hermione continued writing, never looking up. “You can have him, Astoria. He’s all yours. What a pity for you, to be second to me again ,” Hermione added, shooting one quick glare at Astoria before returning to her essay, dismissing Astoria entirely. Astoria glared at her, huffing indignantly before sauntering off.
Pansy approached him, pulling his attention away. “Are you okay?”
“I’m studying, Pansy. We can’t all have our own personal professor to -”
Pansy cut him off with a glare, sitting down and pressing her face close to his as she whispered, “The relationship between Remus and I isn’t what you think!”
“I don't think anything,” he countered.
“You think I seduced him, or he seduced me,” she snarled. “I came to you first after Hermione caught us. You never once asked what was going on between us.”
“We don’t tell each other everything,” Draco argued, ashamed that she was right.
“We were anonymous pen pals at first. He was the first person who ever cared for me before he knew my name. I only knew he was interested in teaching, nothing else. He was the first person I talked to in the morning, and the last I said goodnight to.” Draco bit the inside of his lip. He knew what that was like - to have someone you wanted to talk with all day. Someone on the outside, who didn’t care about the titles or the money.
“I didn’t know what to expect the first time we met, but all of a sudden there was this man in front of me, and he was real. I knew Father would make my life hell if it came out, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I had loved him before I knew him. Then he got the job, here, at Hogwarts, and we knew it couldn’t go on.”
Draco looked at her sympathetically. “Our own fault, really, for allowing ourselves to have feelings.”
“Pathetic,” Pansy agreed. “We should have remained emotionally cripplied and useless.”
“Instead, we have disgraced the name Malfoy.” Draco concluded.
Draco paced his room, watching disinterestedly as Mippy packed his luggage for his Oxford interviews. Most of his classmates were going as well; Pansy, Theo, Blaise, Dominick, Hermione, and Ginny, to name a few. He didn’t know how to be around her without the tight noose of his father hanging around his neck - was scared of what might happen if he allowed himself some slack.
Narcissa knocked on his door and came in without invitation. “I brought you something,” she said softly, tucking an old pocket watch into his hands. “It was your great grandfathers. I know your father and I gave you one on your birthday, but I thought this might help you to feel more…connected to the family legacy.”
Draco nodded and dumped it on top of some of the clothes Mippy had just placed in his luggage.
“Is it too much to ask for some respect, at least?” Narcissa asked sharply.
“Thank you, Mother, for a few more pounds of sentimental weight and expectations on my shoulders,” he muttered.
She glared at him, sighing through her nose. “Anxiety is to be expected. Next year, you’ll laugh at how much this trip worried you. You’ll like Oxford, I promise.”
“And if I don’t? Would that change anything?” he asked, his tone bitter.
“What do you mean?”
“What if I hate it? What if I want to quit? What if I don’t want to be all that is expected of me for House Malfoy , or in House Malfoy?”
Narcissa sat on his bed, refolding a shirt Mippy had just folded expertly and placed on top of the pile. Mippy glared at her, which Narcissa ignored. “You don’t understand how lucky you are, to have the safety net of the Malfoy name -”
“You said it yourself that happiness is not always the same for everyone.”
“What is it that you want, then, Draco?”
“The chance to find out?” Draco asked, speculatively.
“Draco, you’re still so young. Lucius used to complain too, about the duties and expectations. House Malfoy offered him a name in the world, a history, a position -”
He ground his teeth, frustrated. “So I should bow down and accept that too?”
She glared at him for his multitude of interruptions. He sighed. “You can leave now, Mother. I won’t step out of line; it’s not in my genes.” Narcissa swallowed thickly and nodded, placing his shirt back in his luggage, straightening the pocketwatch over the shirt. Stroking a hand over his cheek once more, she placed a chaste kiss to his forehead before leaving the room.
Draco followed his friends through the campus, ignoring the tour guide who was leading them to their rooms. He spotted Hermione and Ginny, chatting animatedly with their own tour guide, who was eyeing Hermione appreciatively. Draco rolled his eyes. Of course they would end up with the guide more intent on getting in their knickers, than the one enamoured with the history of the bloody buttercups, like his guide.
Blaise was wringing his hands nervously, looking around at the Campus. “I hope I don’t bung this up,” he muttered.
“Nonsense,” Dominick consoled him. “You could puke in the professor’s rubbish bin and they’d still take you.”
“Ah, no, actually, there is a bit of effort involved in getting accepted,” Theo countered.
“Oh, well, maybe it won’t be so easy. Chin up!” Dominick said, knocking his fist lightly against Blaise’s jaw.
Draco’s eyes wandered back to Hermione. The tour guide was raking his eyes over her appreciatively, and Hermione blushed. “My name is Jude, and I’m in my second year. I’ll be assisting you throughout the application process,” Draco could hear him saying.
Their groups converged, Draco’s tour guide joining Jude at the front. Hermione resolutely ignored Draco. “During the first interview, the professors want to test your critical thinking skills. In the second, they’ll test how you work under pressure. The third, and final, interview is all about you; it’s the most important one. They’ll determine if you really fit in here at Oxford.”
Hermione was pale, flicking quickly through her notes as they moved into one of the buildings and sat down in an auditorium. Draco sat near the back, his eyes never leaving Hermione. She startled when they called her name, and she rose shakily, moving towards him and the door. He didn’t mean to do it, but his hand snaked out and grabbed her wrist when she walked by, her arm extending behind her as she kept walking. She paused at the tug of his hand on her wrist, and she glanced back at him quizzically. He brushed his thumb lightly across her hand once and released her, whispering a soft “good luck,” before she turned and was gone. His fingers hummed with electricity where he’d touched her, and he smiled softly to himself.
