SamadiW

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Hagrid grabbed Draco by his robes and said firmly, "You be good to my Hermione."

The situation was comical, but Draco was deadly serious with his reply, "You have my word, Hagrid."

Hagrid laid down, closed his eyes, and requested, "Sing me a lullaby."

Draco stood frozen for what seemed like a lifetime before he found his voice, "What?"

Hagrid choked back a sob, "My father would sing to me until I fell asleep." An unbearable pain gripped his fragile heart.

Draco massaged the bridge of his nose in exhaustion, "For fuck sake."

Ginny doubled over with laughter, and Hermione turned away to hide her face. 

Draco pulled up a chair resting in the corner, sat down, and complied, "Sure." He tried to recall one from his younger days, and it came to him within minutes. He sang a comforting sort of nursery rhyme he remembered in French. 

Ferme tes jolis yeux

Car les heures sont brèves

Au pays merveilleux

Au doux pays des rêves

Ferme tes jolis yeu

Ginny could not help but be impressed and nudged Hermione, "The man can carry a tune." 

Car tout n’est que mensonge

Le bonheur est un songe

Ferme tes jolis yeux

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Ginny was genuinely impressed, “Nicely done, Malfoy.”

She tapped her chin and teased, “You know, he reminds me of someone I once knew.”

Draco did not like the direction of the conversation but decided to humour her, “Oh?”

Ginny grinned, “Yeah, a certain pale blonde pointy-nosed Slytherin we went to school with.

Draco sighed, “Was I that bad?”

Ginny answered truthfully, “You were much worse.” It wasn't a lie. He had been unforgivably terrible to them without just cause. 

Draco looked into the stands in time to catch Hermione yawning openly and staring into oblivion, looking positively and utterly bored. 

Ginny cracked a smile, “Poor Hermione. She looks miserable.” 

She insisted, “You can head back to her if you wish, Malfoy.”

Draco raised a brow, “But don’t you have another class to teach?”

Ginny smiled knowingly, “You like her, don't you?”

Draco snorted, “What gave it away?” Still, it was clear from Ginny’s tone that she wasn't joking around. 

She winked, “The way you look at her.”

Draco answered, perplexed, “I don't look at her any different than I would you.”

Ginny answered with a roll of her eyes and frustration, “Come off it, Malfoy. You simp after her like some wounded puppy dog.”

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*Images were sourced. Credit where its intended. None of the images used in the collage are my own*

Ginny frowned and impatiently summarised, "We are going to Hogwarts. Madam Hooch asked me to supervise a few lessons." Of course, she wouldn't detail Madam Hooch's injury and whatnot, but she said the words slowly as if explaining to a child.  

Harry's features contorted unpleasantly. His stony gaze fell on the other man in the room.

He pointed to Malfoy and almost barked, "And he's going with you?" The man had let Death Eaters into the castle. It was hard to forget that act of treason. 

Hermione squirmed uncomfortably, "Um, I never gave it much thought." She honestly hadn't, and now it was all she could think about. Thanks a bunch, Harry.  

Ginny busied herself with making Harry a roast beef sandwich. She sliced the meat into even-sized pieces before cutting up a ripe tomato.

Still, she listened intently and kept valid points on standby to defend Malfoy if needed. The ice blonde wasn't her favourite person, but she could see he was trying to make amends for his past misdeeds.

Harry elucidated, "He's not been back there since Voldemort died."

Draco took a deep breath to calm his inner thoughts and explained, "I've put my past behind me, Potter. I expect the visit to go smoothly." 

If anyone should feel uncomfortable about the whole thing, it should be him. Quite honestly, he dreaded facing Minerva McGonagall, a far worse disciplinarian than Dumbledore and much less forgiving. 

Harry laughed cynically and raised a curious brow, "Right, but has your past put you behind it? You might not get a grand welcome from the portraits or professors." Malfoy dared to walk into a place he had caused severe harm. 

Hi all,

I hope everyone's doing very well. 😊👍

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Any amount is highly appreciated.

Thanks a bunch. ❤️

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She stared at him for a moment, searching his eyes, studying his body language for a sign of dishonesty, but she was sorely disappointed. He was strikingly handsome.

Hermione turned away and went to stand by the window. She stared into the gardens sprawled before them and said, "Well, that's convenient for the moment." 

Her voice cracked before she could control it, and words laced with unmistakable pain left her lips, "I had to take drastic measures to ensure my family's safety when Voldemort almost took over."

Her words piqued Draco's interest. Perhaps there was more behind her defiant behaviour. 

He ran his fingers through his hair and probed, hoping for a satisfactory answer, "What do you mean?" 

Hermione kept her gaze firmly locked on the swaying branches of the trees and almost whispered in agony, "I hated having to do it, but what choice did I have? I almost lost them for good." She closed her eyes, and a solitary tear slid down her cheek. It had been the single most difficult decision of her life, and she doubted that she would ever be presented with something so gut-wrenching again.

Draco couldn't hold back his impatience. He was desperate to know what she was referring to and demanded, "Granger, what are you on about? Tell me!"

Taking a deep breath, Hermione explained without holding back the circumstances leading up to her choice to obliviate her parents and the events that followed afterwards. 

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Hermione watched Draco leave with her mother and grandmother with mixed feelings. They trusted him. Why couldn't she?

She sighed, slowly approached Hannah and smiled, “Thank you for the advice, Hannah.” She somewhat trusted her old friend's judgment. Besides, Hannah and Malfoy seemed to be getting quite close from their behaviour.

Hannah winked and grinned mischievously, “Have a good night.” With those famous last words, she waved her wand and disapparated with a loud crack.

Richard held out his arm and gushed, “Come on, princess.” He examined his daughter's face and became worried, “You seem a bit out of sorts.”

Hermione took his arm and confessed, “I guess I am a little nervous.”

Richard patted her hand resting on his forearm and teased, “I didn't know you and Draco were an item.”

Hermione blushed and had the grace to look mildly ashamed, “Oh, the kiss? No, we aren't. I really don't know what we are, but I know I don't feel anything romantic towards him.”

Richard let out a hearty chuckle, “You sure fooled me.”

Hermione tried to defend her words and actions, but she hardly got anything out, “But, I….”

Richard interrupted with words of pure assurance, “It'll be alright, love. I'm always here to support you.” His hold on her arm tightened to solidify his words of protectiveness. A father's love knows no bounds. He would do everything in his power to protect her.

Hermione took out her wand, kissed her father on the cheek and replied before they disapparated, “I know, dad. I love you.”

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The man looked at Draco in mild irritation and sneered, "Well, if it isn't Draco fucking Malfoy!"

Draco knew the deep, grating voice. He had heard it every day while at Hogwarts. They were bound to cross paths eventually. 

Taking a step back, Draco studied the heavily tattooed formidable man and greeted somewhat icily, "Goyle." He bore no grudge against his former friend and housemate, but the same couldn't be said about the man glaring daggers at him.

Goyle snarled, "I heard you were back from hiding." He scrutinised Malfoy's form. The man seemed changed from their younger arrogant days. There was a specific difference that he couldn't quite put his chubby finger on, but he intended to find out what it was. 

Draco took the insulting comment with a grain of salt and simply smiled before replying, "I wasn't in hiding." 

Goyle leered. His teeth were treacherously yellow, "You always were a bit of a cowardly git, Malfoy." He purposely goaded, wholeheartedly welcoming an altercation. 

Tempting as it was, Draco refused to take the bait. Instead, he chose to be the bigger man and nodded curtly with a swift, seemingly polite response, "It was good seeing you, Goyle."

Clearly, Goyle was not done with bringing up the past. It was evident from his tone that he held some profound resentment. He spat out the words, "If it weren't for Crabbe and me, you would've been pounded to death by the rest daily." 

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Draco swept into the room with a slight smile and cocky greeting, "Good morning, Madam Undersecretary. You look lovely. Green brings out the seriousness in your eyes."

Oh, bloody marvellous. He had heard her childish outburst. 

Hermione smoothed her skirt though it was unnecessary and attempted to be polite to a certain degree, "Malfoy, what a, umm, pleasant surprise." Being around him would require every bit of professionalism and self-discipline she could muster.

Hannah rolled her eyes and punched Draco playfully on the arm as she strode out with her Auror robes billowing behind her. 

Hermione was sure she heard Hannah whisper something candid to Malfoy because his lips curved upwards to form a sensual smile, and he tugged at her ponytail teasingly, but she couldn't quite hear what was exchanged from where she was standing. 

Well, Hannah and Malfoy seemed to be getting along splendidly.

Draco closed the door behind him and regarded the attractive woman in a tight black pencil skirt, green blouse and high heels. He would never have pegged Granger as the type of woman to wear such uncomfortable-looking footwear, but clearly, he was mistaken.

He stepped closer and self-assuredly bent to brush her lips with his when Hermione leaned back, away from his touch and stopped him from progressing by covering his mouth with her petite hand 

She scolded, "What do you think you're doing?" 

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Hermione wandered into the DMLE in search of Harry. He mainly worked late, and she craved an intellectual conversation. 

A few Aurors greeted her, but Harry’s room remained shrouded in darkness, a clear sign that he had left for the night or was away following up on a lead. 

As Hermione was about to leave, a tall, distinguished figure with unique blonde hair wandered into another room carrying a beaker of a pinkish substance and mumbling incoherently to himself. She was unmistakably sure it was Malfoy this time, her heart skipped a beat, and she scolded herself for reacting in such a childish manner.

What was Malfoy still doing here? Studying, perhaps?

It dawned on her that he had come out of the potions room and headed towards the room that housed the supplies cabinet. Curious, Hermione quietly walked in and found the place deserted except for a cauldron on a slow boil with an odourless concoction simmering inside.

The long wooden table that held cauldrons of all sizes was placed so that it faced a large blackboard, leaving anybody seated there unable to see who entered. 

Hermione peered into the cauldron and frowned. From the appearance of the potion, Malfoy seemed to be brewing an advanced version of a Draught of Living Death, a potent sleeping draught, sending the drinker into a deathlike slumber, but it wasn't quite right.

However, the colour threw her off. It wasn't pale pink as it should be. Hermione took hold of the ladle and slowly stirred. She had hardly completed an oscillation when a large hand with a signet ring on his pinky finger and a black bead bracelet on his wrist covered her hand completely with his and applied enough pressure to make her stop stirring.

Hermione felt his warmth and his front press into her back. When had he entered? She hadn't heard a sound. 

The protruding buttons of his uniform dug into the flesh of her back uncomfortably. Of course, he easily towered over her, but with such ease, he bent to her level and whispered in her ear, "You're doing it wrong."

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The melody broke her heart and slowly mended it. It made her feel hot, bothered and overly emotional for unknown reasons. Hermione took her time in the bathroom, leaned against the sink, and random thoughts about her life popped up. After a few moments, the music stopped, followed by faint applause, and then it grew unnervingly quiet.

She heard the distinct sound of heavy footsteps enter the room, but since she was still in the bathroom behind a closed door, Hermione didn't have the faintest clue who it was. In a panic, she threw the door open in time to catch Malfoy locking the room door. The audible click snapping the locking mechanism in place made her cringe, and a sudden burst of excitement rendered her speechless with anticipation. 

Draco narrowed his gaze and drawled, "Did you think your behaviour wouldn't have consequences?" Hermione scanned the area for all possible means of escape, but Malfoy blocked the only one and, like a complete idiot, she had left her wand downstairs in her bag.

Instead of succumbing to the circumstances, she put on a brave face and scoffed, "Oh please, I'm quivering in my three-inch heels. Move!"

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Draco brushed a piece of greasy hair off Hannah’s face and said firmly, “Well, she’s in safe hands. You can leave.” He was afraid his partner would collapse out of sheer exhaustion.

Hannah yawned and didn’t bother to conceal her gaping mouth. She inconspicuously glanced at the closed door and said groggily, “Don’t make too much noise. That Muggle bloke from the club spent the night, and they were bloody loud doing whatever they were doing in the bedroom. I hardly slept a wink.” 

Draco felt a raging surge of anger. His hands balled into fists, and features contorted unpleasantly as he hissed, “What?” Somebody was going to die, but he wasn’t quite sure who. He battled internally. Calm yourself. This isn’t the way! What is the matter with you?

Hannah let out a tired chuckle and rubbed her eyes to chase away the sleepiness, “You’re lucky, Malfoy. Granger sounds pretty good in the sack.” 

“How could you let this happen, Hannah?” Draco accused after failing miserably to keep his temper intact. Back in China, he had such control over his emotions and feelings. A few weeks with Granger and all his hard work to control his inner self fell apart.

Hannah shrugged, “It’s not my place to dictate her life, Malfoy.” She poked him in the chest with a knowing smirk, “Granger has needs, Malfoy. Needs you aren’t satisfying, apparently.” Draco blushed crimson and raised a questioning brow. What was that supposed to mean? Whatever it was sounded insulting. 

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Hermione rolled her eyes, "Relax, Draco! Don't be such a killjoy." A masculine scent invaded her personal space. The smell was repulsive and almost made her vomit.

"Who's Draco?" The Muggle man probed curiously while slipping a hand around her waist. Hermione attempted to move away, grinned slyly and stated the truth, "My gorgeous fiancé."

Draco couldn't help but smile, and then the sudden realisation of another man wanting to spend time in her company made him deeply frown. 

The determined man caught sight of the impressive ring and tried to persuade, "Ah, how about we forget about him tonight, love? You and I can have a little fun." He could pocket the ring and sell it for a sizable fortune if all else failed.

Draco fumed, "Granger! Are you there? Answer me!" His free hand balled into a hardened fist, and he mustered all his self-control not to put it through Theo’s antique mirror. Blaise sensed something was wrong and tried to be the voice of reason, "Hang up the phone, mate."

Hannah emerged from the side with a deep frown of disapproval etched onto her face. Without hesitation, she pushed the man's hand off Hermione’s person before she could and shoved him back with a dire warning, "Don't touch her."

Don't touch her? What? When had it escalated into touching? Draco was livid. His hold on the phone tightened, and his patience hung by a very fine thread.

Reluctantly, the man fell back and sneered, "Mind your own business." This no good bitch was thwarting his plans. Hannah stood her ground, sized up the pitiful Muggle, cocked her head to the side and smirked, "Make me." Hermione kept her eyes on the man seeking an altercation with Hannah and spoke calmly into the phone, "Good night, Draco." Her bad idea to rile up Malfoy had backfired.

Draco insisted with more force than necessary, but his plea fell on deaf ears, "Granger, don't you dare hang up," Blast, the line went dead, and Draco stared at the black screen with his heart pounding in his ears. Theo caught sight of his friend’s anxious face and demanded in an elevated state of panic, "Where are they?"

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Hermione demanded, "How are you with deflecting spells?"

Draco crossed his arms over his chest and answered swiftly, "Quite adept, Madam Undersecretary." 

Hermione bit her bottom lip and cross-examined, "What about protective spells?" 

Draco smirked smugly, "Exemplary." He included in a sarcastic undertone, “I am capable of producing an adequate shield charm.” 

Hermione stopped twirling her wand but continued to walk around him and regarded his form with amusement, "I see." 

She stopped in front of him, held her head high and smiled devilishly. Draco raised a brow to wordlessly question her bizarre behaviour, but Hermione ignored him and challenged, "I, Hermione Jean Granger, challenge you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, to a one spell duel."

Pindrop silence ensued. Draco stared at his betrothed in a dazed state of utter shock that made him glance at Audrey for answers, much like a small boy looking to the strict teacher for guidance. The older woman was transfixed on Granger's form, oddly enough, with a slight smile. Hannah sighed at the unprecedented turn of events and massaged the bridge of her nose in exasperation while the recruits stood perfectly still and hungrily anticipated what would happen next.

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He will not succeed," Draco argued with considerable force, but Griffin licked his lips and smiled condescendingly, "You've found yourself a little wife, haven’t you? She's a stunner, that one, even if her blood isn't pure." The pretty little young Undersecretary. She was every able-bodied, hot-blooded wizard’s fantasy.

Draco did not quite know what possessed him, but he could not control the rage that spread through him with such intensity that it made his insides burn. He lunged forward and grabbed the stunned prisoner by the grubby collar of his regulation prison uniform with the intent of causing bodily harm. Their faces were inches apart, and once Griffin got over the initial shock, he laughed in a deranged way. His breath reeked, causing Draco to grimace but not slacken his hold.

“Tell your Death Eater buddies to stay the fuck away from her,” Draco narrowed his startling clear grey eyes and openly threatened.

“My Death Eater buddies? Why, you filthy fucking hypocrite,” Griffin hurled accusingly, but his confidence waned. His gaze slowly shifted to Draco’s left arm, where the Dark Mark was concealed under layers of clothing.

Draco disregarded the attempt to rile him further and followed up with a clear, precise warning, "I will kill every last one of you if she is hurt." That last statement struck a distinctive chord with Griffin wiping the smug look of superiority off his face. Malfoy's eyes shone with intent and purpose. The man meant the words he uttered. Griffin flinched and grew exceedingly nervous at being alone with this formidable man who would follow through on his promise.

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Harry heaved a sigh and summarised, "Last night, a rogue werewolf killed two Muggle men and marked a Muggle woman. It was not random. It was a clear message. There is a potential werewolf uprising, and we suspect the involvement of Death Eater sympathisers." 

Hannah fell into an empty chair and pressed her lips down hard. After a while, she asked, "How is this possible? They signed treaties, and we agreed to their terms. What changed?" 

"There are heeding the instructions of a new master. One who is stronger and far more competent than Voldemort," Harry fumed. 

Draco listened to each word Potter uttered with interest and concern. He could not fathom the thought of another pointless tussle for power that would uproot everyone's lives and throw them into anarchy. 

Harry addressed him directly, "Hermione received a cryptic letter after the article's publication, Malfoy.” He stressed, “The letter bore the Dark Mark."

Draco took a step back at the revelation and stumbled. He paled, "That's impossible." 

"What?" Hannah chimed in alarm.  

Harry fetched the letter out of his drawer, pushed it forward and instructed, "Go on, have a read. You need to know what you are up against."

Draco grabbed the black paper and hurriedly read the words. His fingers clutched the parchment with more force than necessary at specific points, and he fought hard to subdue the anger rising in him. His eyes darkened with unmistakable rage, "If they touch her, they'll answer directly to me." The words describing the sexual exploits made him want to vomit in disgust. 

Hannah watched from her seat as Draco slowly balled his hands into fists making the prominent chords of muscle on his forearm bulge and a resplendent glow to emit from within the closed fist. She had never seen such a spectacular occurrence without the aid of a wand.

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Malfoy Manor

Draco bolted up in a state of panic with his hands balled into fists and raised before him aggressively with the single intent of striking a faceless entity. His entire body was coated in a thin sheath of cold sweat.

Rapidly blinking to gather his bearings, he came to the shuddering conclusion that he was within the comfort of his room with steady beams of moonlight licking the floors in a luminous silvery glow. 

Kicking the sheet that covered him to the side with some force, Draco threw his legs over the edge letting his bare feet touch the coolness of the wooden floors. It served as a wake-up call, and his breathing hastened while he stared out of the window into the seemingly sinister grounds.

It had been years since he had a nightmare. 

Smith's boisterous warning and his father's words from beyond the grave tormented him. 

There was a feeling of intense unrest that curled like a trapped serpent in the pit of his belly. 

What fresh hell had he returned to? 

THE ALGORITHM 🖤❤

Rated - Explicit

Mature audiences only.

Slowburn, Dramione Marriage Law fic.

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My dearest Hermione,

I beg your forgiveness for my published article in yesterday's Daily Prophet. We will retract the story and issue a formal apology.  It was never my intention in the slightest to slander your image or cause you any harm. Please accept my humble apology.

P.S - Your precious reputation is safe. Malfoy came through on your behalf. You have bagged a winner—my warmest wishes for a happy married life.

Skeeter made Malfoy seem like a prize to be won at a fair.

Hermione crumpled the perfumed scented paper that contained Skeeter's neatly written words in anger and tossed the small paper ball aside. 

The audacity!

She bared her teeth and hissed, "Skeeter, you lying bitch."

The absolute gall of the woman to wish them well on their marriage, but what did she mean by Malfoy came through on your behalf?

He had done diddly squat as far as she was concerned. Something was definitely amiss.

Her answer came swiftly as she glanced at the magazine, and her eyes widened in utter disbelief. She stumbled on her high heels and fell into the nearest chair with the magazine clutched tightly in her hands. 

She was unable to tear her gaze away from the front page. The black and white image of the brooding, sexy man who adorned the cover was dangerously handsome and, most, notably her intended and future husband.

What in the name of Merlin's saggy left testicle had he gone and done?  

Hermione hurriedly flipped through the pages of the magazine. She passed countless articles on hair treatment, facial remedies, and fashion choices for the career-driven witch before stopping at the story that caused her mind to go blank of any useful thoughts or speech. 

She leaned back dumbfounded by what he had done and started to avidly read without stopping, only going back to reread some answers that struck a distinctive chord with her.

The emotion behind his honest declaration was plain to see. She could practically hear his husky voice as the printed words rolled off his velvety tongue.

His answers when asked about her. Merlin!

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Skeeter thought hard and asked inquisitively, "What is your single biggest regret?"

Draco's eyes clouded over, and he gave his answer some thought before responding, "I stood by and watched an innocent girl being tortured by Bellatrix on the floor of Malfoy Manor." 

He swallowed hard as Granger's screams from that night came back to haunt him with a vengeance. Unmoving, he kept it together and admitted his weakness, "I could have stopped or done something to thwart her, but my cowardice won the night, and that girl suffered terribly at the hands of a deranged lunatic." 

Rita was more than interested to know who the girl was. She appealed and wondered if said girl would consent to be interviewed, "Is this girl alive?" It would be the perfect follow up story.

A faint smile appeared on his face, and Draco responded gravely, "Yes, she's alive and quite well. I'm supposed to marry her in a matter of weeks."

Skeeter flinched. Her eye twisted nervously, and fingers dug painfully into the material of her seat. It was impossible.

She widened her eyes in surprise, "You mean that girl was Hermione?" How was it possible that she did not know this? 

Draco gritted out, "Yes. Do you now understand why this union would disgust Granger? Why she would consider herself anything other than lucky?" His attitude mirrored the repulsion he held for his interviewer.

"I didn't know…." Rita countered with a smidge of remorse.

Draco spat in contempt, "Then do not fucking assume to know. Hermione Granger deserves far better than the likes of me."

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Ron found his voice first, "Hermione is not going anywhere with you."  He yanked her towards him, and her attempts to escape and protests fell on stubborn, ruby red ears.

Draco held on and refuted with equal arrogance, "I wasn't aware she needed your permission. She is leaving with me." 

Hermione contained the need to scream to remind them of her presence and that she belonged and answered to no one, but the more she suffered, the heat from their hands seeped into her skin, she detached herself from reality, and the present ceased to exist.

Gone was her office. The dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts surrounded her. The stone walls seemed to close in on her. 

Hermione found herself wearing her old uniform and tie perfectly in place. Her hair was the bird's nest she managed at school. It fell in unmanageable strands over her face and cascaded untamed down her back. 

On one end, a slick-haired, pale, pointy faced arrogant boy with a permanent scowl and loosened green and white tie looked down his nose at her. He held on to her for whatever reason, perhaps to prove a point or worse, to fool her into believing he had changed.

Holding onto her with both hands almost possessively and with desperation was a gangly youth in hand me down robes, long red hair and fierce courage that had come to her defence on more than one occasion.

The pain in her arm intensified. A sinister cackling bounced off the walls of her troubled mind, "Pick the blood traitor. My spineless nephew watched you bleed. He did nothing to stop me from mutilating you."

Hermione staggered but came crashing back to reality. The decision was a simple one, wasn’t it?