The weekend was fraught with tension. Hermione, for her part, remained very quiet. She spent hours poring over thick legal texts that had appeared out of nowhere, obsessively taking notes. Draco wanted to pull her close and hold her, but dared not to; she was so focused.
At night, their lovemaking was frenzied and hurried as they each sought their release. It was a push and a pull—Hermione giving herself to him, and Draco taking her, gratefully.
Afterwards, Hermione whispered a soft, "I love you."
Draco replied with, "Everything will be okay."
She nodded against him before falling into an uneasy sleep.
Draco did not dare broach the subject of their meeting at the Ministry on Monday, even as he knew Hermione was steadfastly preparing. Truthfully, Draco didn't think there was anything he could do. His fate laid simply in the hands of Kingsley Shacklebolt and the Wizengamot, biased as they were.
Without Hermione by his side, Draco was beyond certain that he'd rot in Azkaban. At least with Hermione, he had hope.
Hermione was so focused on Saturday that Draco wasn't sure she had even heard him say he had a few errands to run. She merely grunted, her eyes never once leaving the text in front of her. Draco couldn't help but grin at her intense focus.
Pulling on his coat, Draco apparatated from the hall of her flat and directly in front of Gringott's. The weather was poor, and for that, Draco was grateful, as there were very few people on the street, and he made his way into the wizarding bank with very little issue.
Despite the weather, the bank itself was busy and Draco had to wait a few minutes for a free teller, ignoring the looks he received from other patrons. Since Rita Skeeter's article had come out, Draco wasn't certain what the public thought of him. And truthfully, he didn't much care.
When it was his turn, Draco stepped forward to the booth of the teller. "Hello," Draco began politely. "I need to make a transfer."
"Name?" the Goblin asked in a bored tone.
"Draco Malfoy," he replied.
Next to him, a man's head shot up in interest, staring openly at Draco for a moment before going back to his own transaction.
"Wand?" the Goblin requested.
Draco held his wand out and let the Goblin inspect it closely.
"A transfer to which vault?"
"Hermione Granger," Draco replied. "I don't know the vault number."
The Goblin nodded, uninterested. "Vault 424," he eventually concluded. "How much are you wishing to transfer, sir?"
"100,000 Galleons," Draco said quietly.
If the Goblin was surprised, he didn't show it. "Sir," he agreed. "The funds will be transferred first thing Monday morning."
"Thank you," Draco replied politely, tucking his wand and his hands into the pockets of his trousers.
He left Gringott's quickly and apparated back to Hermione's flat, where he expected to find her still hard at work with some dense tome perched on her lap. Draco, however, found her in the kitchen making a sandwich. "Where were you?" she asked hurriedly as soon as she laid eyes on him.
Draco chuckled lightly as he made his way to her and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I told you I had a few errands to run."
Hermione's eyes narrowed for a moment. "Oh, did you?" she asked quietly.
"So I was correct—you didn't hear me," Draco said with a small laugh.
"Are you okay?" she asked quietly, pulling out two more slices of bread, presumably to make Draco a sandwich, too.
As she turned back towards the counter, Draco wrapped his arms around her middle. "Just fine," he promised. "I only got a few nasty looks this time. Perhaps the article helped," Draco offered.
"I hope so," Hermione replied, handing him a sandwich. "I have more research to do." With a bite of sandwich, Hermione walked from the kitchen and back into the living room, where she instantly picked her book back up, instantly disappearing into its pages.
It was Sunday evening before Draco raised the courage to pull Hermione from her books. "Draco, don't!" she said heatedly as he pried a book from her fingers.
"Hermione," he replied softly. "You've been researching all weekend. I miss you."
Hermione stared at him for a long moment before her expression softened and she relented. "I'm sorry, I just—the more I know, the more I can help, the better—" she cut off.
"We have a very big day tomorrow and I'd like to spend some time with you."
If I have to go, he did not add, even though he knew she heard it.
"Okay," she replied quietly, setting her book down on the coffee table.
"Let's watch a movie," he suggested.
Hermione merely shook her head as Draco took a seat next to her. "No, I don't want to do that," she said as she leaned into him. "We should talk about tomorrow."
Draco sighed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Would that help you feel better about it?" he asked.
"I don't know," Hermione replied quietly.
"Talk to me," Draco encouraged.
"I don't trust the Ministry," she began. "I don't trust the people that work there—that's why I left. I don't trust them to be unbiased. It's so very evident that you haven't done anything wrong, but with your father, and the War—"
"I know," he interrupted.
"It just isn't fair," she whispered.
"I will do whatever they ask of me, Hermione. I need you to know that."
Hermione nodded against him. "Good. I don't want you to give up."
"I won't give up as long as you're on my side," Draco replied.
"Harry and Ginny will meet us here at 8 tomorrow," Hermione continued.
"The Potters?" Draco asked in disbelief.
"Of course," she said easily. "I'm not entirely sure what to expect, but since everyone thinks I'm Imperiused, it can't hurt to have a few character witnesses on hand."
"I hadn't realized," Draco began.
"They want to help," Hermione replied quietly. "Are you scared?"
"Terrified," Draco answered honestly.
Instantly, Hermione took his hand, rubbing gentle circles into it. "I'll do the best that I can," she promised."
"I know you will. If—I mean, if—when—" he began, before cutting himself off with a sigh. "I just—I want to see you again; can I see you?"
Hermione seemed to understand his broken words, perching herself in his lap and pulling her jumper over her head. She divested them of their clothes quickly, until they were both naked on the couch. Grasping his cock, she slid down onto him slowly, causing them both to moan. "I love you," she whispered as she began to rock.
Draco wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her into him tightly. "You are the most beautiful witch I've ever seen," he murmured against her breast. "I want you to remember that."
"I won't have to remember," she argued as she thrust down on him. "You're going to remind me every day."
"Yes," he agreed, closing his eyes and tipping his head back in pleasure. "Yes, I will."
"You promise?" she asked desperately, riding him faster, her fingers gripping his shoulders.
"I promise," he said hotly, opening his eyes to find her lips. He kissed her fiercely, swallowing a low moan.
Hermione shuddered against him, her arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders as she gripped him for purchase. A few more thrusts and she was moaning against his neck as she came. "Draco," she moaned.
His hands grappled for her hips, holding her down on him as he thrust up into her before he, too, came with a loud groan. "Hermione."
They panted against each other. "Every day," Hermione reminded him, her breathing quick.
"Every day," he promised.
The Potters arrived by Floo promptly at 8, just as Hermione had said they would. Draco and Hermione, by then, had already been up for several hours, desperately making love many times before they resigned themselves to sleeplessness and began to get ready for the day.
While Hermione was taking a shower, Draco had swallowed several large gulps of firewhiskey, in an attempt to steady his nerves.
By the time the Potters arrived, both of their eyes were drooping with exhaustion. "I thought you'd be exhausted," muttered Ginny, pressing a cup of coffee into each of their hands.
"Thanks, Gin," Hermione uttered weakly.
"You two ready?" Potter asked.
"Yes," Draco replied, clutching Hermione's hand.
Potter offered a faint smile. "We don't have to go through the Ministry this time. I've arranged with Kingsley so that we can all just Floo to the conference room."
Draco let out a breath. "Thank you," he said sincerely.
Potter reached for Ginny's hand. "Here, Hermione, you take Ginny's hand and then Malfoy's, I'll apparate us all."
Hermione obeyed, taking Ginny's hand, her palm still firmly holding Draco's. Once Potter had determined that everyone was present and attached, he disapparated. They all landed harshly in the conference room, Draco nearly falling to his knees to prevent Hermione from falling on her arse. "Could you have been less graceful, Potter?" Draco sneered, as he pulled Hermione up, checking her for injury.
Potter winced. "I'm not used to apparating so many people," he explained.
"Clearly," replied Draco.
"Good to see you all," Shacklebolt greeted them warmly. Mr. Potter, Mrs. Potter, Ms. Granger, please, come sit next to me."
The Potters quickly obliged, but Hermione resisted, holding fast to Draco. "Go, Hermione," he said quietly. "I'll be all right."
"Mr. Malfoy, please take the seat, there, in the middle. The Wizengamot will be arriving soon," Shacklebolt said pleasantly.
Draco disentangled his fingers from Hermione's, who was frowning, and made his way to the chair in the middle of the room. As soon as he was seated, metal bars rose up around him, effectively caging him.
"Kingsley!" Hermione protested.
Shacklebolt ignored her. "Please take a seat, Ms. Granger. The Wizengamot will be arriving soon," he repeated.
Her eyes instantly found Draco's, and he nodded, urging her to sit. With a huff, Hermione found a seat next to Potter. A few moments later, several members of the Wizengamot strode in, taking their seats at the long table directly in front of Draco. They began without ceremony. "Minister Shacklebolt, the Wizengamot has met extensively this past week regarding this matter, and we are hopeful that you will allow us to administer Veritaserum to the perpetrator."
Shacklebolt nodded. "I'll allow it, but watch your language, Mr. Holder," he warned.
Draco's eyes shot to Hermione, who was watching him intently. Holder approached Draco with a vial of Veritaserum. "Four drops, sir?" he asked.
"That seems excessive, don't you think, Mr. Holder?" Hermione asked coldly.
"Ms. Granger," Shacklebolt warned. "But I agree. I think two drops should suffice."
Holder nodded in deference, quickly measuring out two drops of the Veritaserum. Approaching Draco, he held out the stopper, offering the liquid to Draco. Dutifully, he took the liquid and swallowed it. "Mr. Malfoy," Holder said, finally acknowledging him. "Can you tell us your full name, for the Wizengamot?"
"Draco Lucius Malfoy," Draco responded easily, the Veritaserum quickly coursing through him.
"Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. Can you tell us why you are here today?"
"I've been charged with fraud and embezzlement," Draco answered immediately.
"Indeed," Holder agreed. "Now, Mr. Malfoy, what is your relationship to Hermione Granger?"
"She is my girlfriend," Draco replied tightly, wondering what that had to do with the matter at hand.
"Have you ever used the Imperius curse?" Holder asked.
"Yes," Draco replied unwillingly.
Holder smiled wildly.
"Objection!" called Hermione, rising from her seat.
"Ms. Granger, this is not a trial," Shacklebolt chided gently.
"It sure seems like one!" she argued. "Go on, ask him who he's used the Imperius on!"
When Holder made no move to ask Draco the question, it was Shacklebolt who asked, "Who have you used the Imperius curse on, Mr. Malfoy?"
"A rat," replied Draco.
"Not Ms. Granger?" Shacklebolt clarified,
"No," Draco said forcefully. "I'd never do that to her."
"I have Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley here, as well, who will testify that I'm not cursed," Hermione added.
"Ms. Granger, please," warned Shacklebolt.
"Do you understand the charges you are being accused of, Mr. Malfoy?" Shacklebolt continued.
"Not particularly, no," Draco replied.
"Yet you believe you are innocent of the charges?"
"Yes," Draco replied. "I never touched the money. It was my father."
"Lucius Malfoy?" Shacklebolt confirmed.
"Sir?" Potter asked hesitantly.
"Go, on, Mr. Potter," Shacklebolt encouraged.
"I spoke personally with the elder Mr. Malfoy, and he did admit to me that he was the one who embezzled the money from the accounts," Potter explained to the Wizengamot.
"Mr. Malfoy, have you Imperiused Harry Potter?" Holder asked coldly.
"No," Draco answered forcefully.
"I've been able to fight off the Imperius since my fourth year at Hogwarts. Furthermore, I'm Head Auror, Mr. Holder. I have been highly trained and can fight it offwith almost no effort," Potter said coldly.
"What happened when you discovered the discrepancy in your accounts, Mr. Malfoy?" Shacklebolt asked him.
"I went to Hermione to make sure I had done the math correctly, and once she confirmed my thoughts, I tried to figure out how to fix the error. I was even going to put my own personal funds in to correct it, but I don't have enough," Draco replied.
"So, you are willing to make reparations for your crime then?" he asked.
Draco nodded. "I would like to correct the error, yes, sir."
"Does this please the Wizengamot?" Shacklebolt asked, directing his question to Holder.
"May the Wizengamot have a few moments to discuss this privately?" Holder asked tightly.
"I'll allow it."
The Wizengamot left then, and Hermione rushed towards Draco. "Are you all right?" she asked, leaning over the metal railing to reach for him.
Draco nodded, grasping at her hand.
Ginny approached then, her eyes wide. "There's no way you're going to Azkaban for this, Malfoy," she assured him. "Not with Harry, Hermione, and Shacklebolt on your side. And that artricle in The Prophet—and now, with Veritaserum? There's no way!"
"Thank you, Weaslette," he said softly.
"Ferret," Ginny replied with a grin.
After nearly an hour, the Wizengamot returned with Holder looking especially surly. "Minister, sir," he began. "It pleases the Wizengamot. If Draco Malfoy can make adequate reparations, all charges against him will be dropped."
"Does this seem fair to you, Mr. Malfoy?" Shacklebolt asked him directly.
Draco nodded hurriedly. "Yes, sir," he agreed.
"You have 60 days."
"Yes, sir," Draco repeated.
Shacklebolt smiled then. "Then it seems our matter is settled. This meeting is adjourned."
At Shacklebolt's words, the metal bars surrounding him disappeared and he was free to go. Instantly he made his way to Hermione, who was already headed towards way to him. As soon as he reached her, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him. He hadn't thought this a possibility, hadn't let himself hope. But he was free, and he wasn't going to Azkaban. "You get to keep me," he murmured into her hair.
"You're mine," she said quietly.
When he pulled away, Draco found Potter and Ginny watching them. "I told you!" Ginny said happily, as she caught his eye.
"Thank you all for being here today," Draco replied, still holding onto Hermione tightly, unwilling to let her go.
"Pleasure, mate," Potter replied, clapping him on the shoulder.
There it was again: mate.
"Are you guys hungry?" Ginny asked. "We could go for breakfast?"
"Draco?" Hermione asked hopefully.
"Yeah, of course," he agreed, grinning down at her.
"There's a little place around the corner that has the best pancakes. Don't tell Mum I said that," Ginny warned.
"Is that okay?" Hermione asked.
"Perfect," Draco said with a light smile.
And he meant it.
After stacks of pancakes, Potter finally looked to him, taking an idle sip of coffee. "So," he began, "how are you planning on making reparations?"
Draco sighed, taking his own sip of coffee. "I am open to any and all suggestions, Potter."
"It shouldn't be too hard—Draco already has more than half of what he needs in his personal account," Hermione added.
"Actually, less now," he admitted sheepishly.
"What?" Hermione asked sharply.
"You'll be receiving a rather large transfer today," Draco replied quietly.
Hermione groaned. "You didn't!"
"I didn't know how today was going to go," Draco explained. "I wanted you taken care of."
"So romantic—" Ginny said wistfully.
"—Idiotic!" interrupted Hermione. "You're taking it back, immediately."
"I'm not. I told you I was going to do this, Hermione. Get the dried Mandrake," he said, kissing her cheek.
Potter seemed to be thinking before he spoke, slowly, "I think I might have an idea."
"Go on," Draco urged as Hermione seethed beside him.
"The Ministry would kill to get its hands on Malfoy Manor," he began. "The artifacts inside alone would probably pay reparations twice over, not to mention the land, the furniture—"
"You're suggesting I surrender my family home to the Ministry?" Draco clarified.
Potter shrugged and took another sip of coffee. "You and Hermione are practically living together already, are you not?"
"I don't—" Draco began.
"Yes," Hermione interrupted.
"It's just something to think about," Potter said nonchalantly.
"I'm not entirely opposed, Potter," Draco admitted. "Will you talk to Shacklebolt? Present the idea?"
"Will do," Potter confirmed.
"Thank you," Draco replied. "If it weren't for you all, I'd certainly be rotting in Azkaban right now."
"I'd burn the place to the ground," Hermione said fiercely, kissing his cheek.
"So violent," Draco chuckled.
"You guys are disgusting," said Potter, grimacing.
The check came and Ginny immediately took it. "My treat," she offered. "If today is anything to go by, you may not be disgustingly rich much longer, Malfoy."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, but I will be."
"I don't care about any of that," Draco admitted. "I don't give a fuck."
"You are just the most surprising individual," mused Ginny.
Hermione rested her head against his shoulder, and instantly he could tell all her energy had been drained. "Her nose has been buried in a book for three straight days preparing for this," Draco explained.
"Take her home," Potter replied. "I'm going to head in to work and I'll talk to Kings later on. I'll come by her flat tonight."
"I'm fine," Hermione muttered.
"You're exhausted," Draco corrected.
"Fine," she replied, irritated.
"See you later, Potter. Thanks for breakfast, Ginny." Draco ushered Hermione out of the booth and out the door of the diner, apparating quickly to her flat.
"Okay, I am tired," she admitted as they landed.
"Me, too," Draco replied.
They fell into bed, still fully clothed. "You'd really give up Malfoy Manor?" Hermione asked quietly.
"Yes," he replied. "It's not really my home anymore."
"And you'd live with me?"
Draco paused. "I won't ask. But if you'd let me, yes."
"I'd let you," she said softly.
"The money I gave you—put it towards half of the cost of your flat, then."
"I still can't believe you did that."
"Can't you?" he asked, kissing her.
She sighed deeply. "I can. So sweet," she murmured. "Next headline in The Prophet will be that I'm a gold digger."
Draco laughed. "I'd love to see that," he replied, nipping lightly at her neck. "I'd even confirm it."
"You wouldn't," Hermione replied, laughing against him.
"Oh, I certainly would. Could you imagine the headlines?"
"Hermione Granger, Golden Girl? Or Simply Fishing for Gold?"
"Golden Girl or Gold Digger?"
"Yours is better," Hermione relented.
"You'll come up with something better later, when you've slept," he replied.
"Mmm," she agreed, relaxing against him and closing her eyes. It did not take long for her to fall asleep, as emotionally and mentally exhausted as she was. Draco watched her breathing even out before he himself closed his own eyes.
Draco was awoken hours later to the roar of the Floo. With a low groan, Draco turned to look at Hermione, who was curled up next him, still sleeping peacefully. Shifting slowly so as not to wake her, Draco slung his legs over the bed and padded across the room softly. As he exited, Draco quietly closed the door.
Hastily, Draco unlocked the Floo and Potter came bounding out. Briefly he looked around him before he saw Draco. "Where's 'Mione?" he asked.
Draco nodded towards to closed bedroom door. "She's still sleeping."
"When she gets something on her mind, she really goes all in," Potter said with a light chuckle.
"I've noticed," Draco replied with a small smile. "Here," Draco said, motioning towards the kitchen. "Glass of firewhiskey?"
"That would be fantastic," Potter said, following Draco into the kitchen.
Draco quickly poured them each a generous portion of firewhiskey, pushing one towards Potter. "Did you talk to Shacklebolt?" he asked.
Potter took a large swallow of his firewhiskey and nodded. "I presented the idea to him this afternoon—he seemed interested," Potter said with a shrug. "Said he'd get back to me on it."
"Great," Draco said sarcastically.
"Will you live with Hermione if he accepts?" Potter asked seriously.
Draco took his own swig of firewhiskey and shrugged. "I don't know. She said I could, and truthfully, I'd like to. Part of me worries that it's too soon, though."
Potter chuckled. "Ginny moved in with me a week after the end of the War," he admitted.
"You always were annoyingly impulsive," Draco mused.
Potter furrowed his brow for a moment before his eyes flicked back to Draco's. "Where do you see—with Hermione?"
Draco thought for a moment. "I suppose I haven't had any time to really think about that answer. I was so convinced I would be going to Azkaban."
Potter nodded but remained silent.
Draco took a long swallow before he thought for a moment. "I have no intentions of ever leaving her, if that's what you're asking. I'll stick around as long as she'll have me."
Potter scoffed. "Please, Malfoy. Don't act like you're some passing fancy to her."
Draco shrugged, uncertain how to respond.
"She was right, about me," Potter continued. "I stopped paying attention to her. I just assumed she was fine because she never said she wasn't. And why would she? She's not like that. But now, now I'm paying attention again. And I really do think she would raze Azkaban for you."
Draco sighed deeply. "What, are we friends now, Potter?" he asked.
"Aren't we?" Potter asked with a tilt of his head. "My best friend is dating you, and she's my wife's best friend. I've spent more time with you lot than I have with Ron lately. Feels a lot like we might be friends."
"I suppose you're right," Draco said slowly. "Hermione will be absolutely thrilled. Actually, let's not tell her. She can be a bit smug."
Potter laughed, taking another gulp of firewhiskey. "That she can be."
"Hi, Harry," came Hermione's sleepy voice from behind them. In an instant, her arms were wrapped around Draco's chest, her head resting on his shoulder.
"Hey, 'Mione," Potter said affectionately.
"What are you boys talking about?" she asked, fighting a yawn.
"Just how smug you can be," Potter said with a broad smile.
Draco held up his hands. "I said nothing of the sort," he said.
"It's true, he only has nice things to say about you," Potter said with a conspiratorial chuckle.
"Are you hungry, Harry?" she asked, ignoring them. "I can make—" she paused for a moment. "We have eggs."
Potter laughed. "No, thank you, 'Mione. As much as I love your eggs, I just came by to tell Malfoy what Kings said."
"What did he say?" she asked determinedly.
"He'll think about it," Potter replied.
Against him, Hermione huffed.
"I'd like some eggs," Draco offered.
Hermione pressed a brief kiss to his neck. "I am not feeding you just eggs. We'll get some real food."
"Oh, but you were going to feed me just eggs?" Potter asked.
"You would've been hungry again in 5 minutes," Hermione replied with a careless wave of her hand.
"I think I'm offended," Potter said petulantly.
"I don't want to see you naked," Hermione replied easily.
Potter grimaced, downing the last bit of his firewhiskey. "Malfoy, thank you for the drink. Hermione, for that image I will never be able to get out of my head."
"Welcome, Potter," Draco offered.
"Oh," Potter said, just as he had stepped into the Floo. "I'm certain my wife will want to have you both over for dinner on Friday. Keep your schedule clear, yeah?"
"Okay, Harry," Hermione replied quietly.
In a flash of green, Potter disappeared.
"Sleep well?" he asked Hermione.
"Very," she confirmed, nodding against him.
"Good," Draco replied, turning to press a kiss to the nearest bit of her skin.
"But I am also starving now."
Draco thought for a moment. "Hey, I have an idea?"
"Mmm?"
"How would you like to meet Jinxy?"
"Your elf?" she asked in surprise.
"I believe I owe you a date, Ms. Granger," he began.
Hermione furrowed her brow for a moment. "You do, don't you?" she replied after a moment.
"But we've had a long few days and I'd like it if we could stay here, put on pajamas and eat on the floor as you're so fond of doing. But I'll need Jinxy's help to give you the date I promised you."
"I would love to meet Jinxy," she replied breathlessly.
"Good," Draco said with a smile. "Jinxy!"
It was only a matter of seconds before Jinxy appeared with a pop. "Master Draco, sirs! Jinxy is so very glads to see you!" the elf cried, wrapping her little arms around his legs.
"It's good to see you, too, Jinxy. I wanted you to meet someone, and I wanted your help with something, too."
"Yes, sirs!" Jinxy said excitedly.
"I want you to meet Hermione Granger, my girlfriend," he said, motioning to Hermione.
Jinxy's eyes went wide. "This is where Master Draco has been?" she asked happily.
"Yes, Jinxy," Draco confirmed.
"Mistress Granger!" Jinxy greeted Hermione. "So very good to meet you missus!"
Hermione knelt down so she was face-to-face with Jinxy. "Draco has told me a lot about you, Jinxy. He seems very fond of you. He tells me you're a free elf?"
Jinxy nodded vigorously. "Am very fond of Master Draco, missus. Took care of him as a babe, I did. Yes, missus—I am a free elf. Master Draco gave me a t-shirt. Master Draco pays me 3 Galleons an hour, missus!"
"It's so nice to meet you, Jinxy," she said softly.
"Master Draco is very good man," Jinxy replied solemnly.
"Yes," Hermione agreed. "Yes."
"Hermione, can I talk to Jinxy alone?" Draco asked.
Hermione held out her hand, which Jinxy immediately took to shake. "Pleasure, missus Granger."
"I think I'll go take a bath," Hermione said, rising, and pecking a light kiss to Draco's cheek.
"Missus is lovely," Jinxy said as soon as Hermione had disappeared.
"She is," Draco agreed.
"What does Master need Jinxy to do?"
Draco grinned down at the little elf. "Just a little help in the kitchen, is all."
Jinxy smiled brightly. "Jinxy would be most delighted, sirs!"