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Through the Son	By : Marionne25 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 15924 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and am not making any money from this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter Twenty Two
Old Days

“You won’t be eating?” Harry asked her as they reached her apartment.

He helped her back into the living room and settled her into her large and comfortable sofa.

Her eyes roamed the room and the rest of the house that they had passed.

“Did you clean the apartment?” she asked him despite knowing the answer already.

“Hmmm.” Harry mumbled at a corner as he lit the hearth of the fireplace to warm the room up.

Harry was never a clean freak as she had mostly been in their growing up life but he always knew when to surprise her with his domestic skills.

“Thanks.” Hermione said not really able to say anything else knowing that these were the small and yet unspoken and relevant things they usually exchanged.

“Not a problem.” Harry said with a slight cheer in his voice. “I can cook or I can buy dinner. Come on, it’s your welcome home.”

“I haven’t been away for long.” Hermione pointed out at him and Harry’s facial expression quickly dimmed for a moment. “But if you really insist, I’m good with any comfort food tonight. If you’d come to think about it, I’m actually slightly hungry.”

Lies. All lies.

Draco had fed her more than enough a few hours back at the cafeteria and she was still slightly high in spite of herself.

She didn’t tell him that they a good time at the cafeteria – just talking mostly of his post Hogwarts life – and the crappy food they were being served at the cafeteria.

Harry did see Draco given that he was her attending Healer and he asked him to sign some release documents but other than that, he didn’t know any better and Hermione wasn’t sure at that very moment why she was even keeping that small detail away from Harry.

She knew that Harry wasn’t really the grudging types towards Draco but for some reason, she didn’t feel up to it nor feel good about telling Harry about it.

“You spent time with Malfoy today?” Harry’s voice came into the living room as he grabbed a small old pasta book from a shelf from the other room.

“What?” Hermione asked, her bubble of thoughts quickly looking for a cue to turn direction. “What do you mean?”

“He told me that he spent the morning at therapy with you then something about staying at the cafeteria while you waited for me.”

“He..” Hermione began unsure of what Draco said and what she should say then and most importantly if it was a big deal to Harry. “He was advising me on meals and stuff. Told me I wasn’t eating right so we went to the cafeteria and we enlisted things I could and should eat.”

Harry nodded as he flipped through the pages of the pasta book.

“He just mentioned that the two of you went to the cafeteria. Wasn’t so bad hanging around with Malfoy?”

“That wasn’t hanging out.” Hermione said with quick defense in her tone but she was avoiding his gaze as well despite that he was too occupied on what he was reading.

A look of concern passed Harry’s has however.

He looked strangely up at her as if wanting to say something but he said something else instead.

“You’re okay with him, right?” Harry asked him. “You’re not uncomfortable anymore with him being your Healer?”

Hermione looked up at Harry as he closed the book and stared up at her from the other side of the couch.

Now she understood what he was really getting at.

He was concerned that she felt bad about Draco being the attending Healer and if she was emotionally alright with it.

It wasn’t because he was jealous of Draco being around her.

And truth be told, Draco has been professionally handling her since day one and she was the one who had been diligent into proving that he wasn’t but he was.

“He’s been doing well with his duty as my attending Healer.” Hermione said. “I can’t believe I’m going to say this but he’s a professional and is about his job.”

“Good then.” Harry said with a small smile from his lips. “I’m glad to know that he’s been like that. Anything off-course, you’d tell me right?”

“Ofcourse.” Hermione quickly said. “And it’s not like he can actually try. My legs might not be working at full power right now but I’m not exactly invalid or out of my wit from hexing him and turning him into a ferret again. I’m quite sure he still recalls that very well.”

A chuckle escaped both their lips and Harry finally looked better and relaxed.

“Alright. I’ll make some sundried pasta for us. Yes?” he said closing the book and getting off from the couch. “I’ll make you some tea? Malfoy gave me a list of the things you should eat.”

“Tea sounds perfect while I wait that pasta.” Hermione said with a suppressed smile over her face. “Heard from the Weasleys?”

“They wanted to see you but I told them that you needed rest.” Harry said. “I hope you don’t mind. We can join them for lunch over the weekend.”

“I don’t mind.” Hermione said. “I don’t want to raise panic if Mrs. Weasley sees me over these.”

Hermione smiled and pointed over the bandages around her legs and at the band wrapped at her lower waist to help her move around.

“How long would this be staying on you?” Harry asked as he helped her move a little more into a half-lying down position over the couch.

“I can remove the arm bandage tomorrow.” Hermione said pointing over the small bandage on her left hand. “Draco said that I can remove mostly after a few hours except for the brace around my hips. He told me he had to check that one first before we remove it.”

Something appeared over Harry’s eyes but it quickly vanished.

He didn’t say anything but he caught word of her again calling Malfoy by first name basis.

He was almost so sure now it wasn’t a slip of a tongue and that it was becoming a habit but he didn’t to ask her why she was calling him that.

“You’ll be well in time for the gala then?” he asked her slowly.

For a moment she only stared at him and then she recalled what he must be talking about.

“I almost forgot about that.” Hermione quietly said. “And you’re really going?”

“I won’t go if you don’t want me to.” Harry firmly said. “I wouldn’t do something you don’t think appropriate.”

“But if you don’t go, that won’t show much of a sportsmanship, right?” Hermione asked him. “That’ll be like telling him that he’s on the winning and moving on side.”

There was something more than distaste and bitterness in her tone that Harry knew too well.

“Hermione, there is no more of that winning and losing side.” Harry pointed out. “We’ve won the war over.”

A glint passed Hermione’s eyes but it quickly vanished before Harry could even redeem himself.

She shifted in her position and Harry was sure if she could move and walk out of the room at the moment, she would have done so.

He understood and felt for her but he wasn’t the one to tolerate all her brooding side.

She had got to move on and he was going to guide her all the way if only she’d be willing to.

He had done more than enough watching her brood and lick her wounds all these years having done so a couple of it himself for her but he knew that he couldn’t let it any longer.

Harry paused then and cleared his throat giving her a firm gaze.

“So are we going?” he asked her. “I personally won’t go if you don’t feel like it. But there’s nothing really like a big deal out of it.”

“I didn’t say it was a big deal.” Hermione snapped at him. “I didn’t even say anything at all.”

She didn’t say anything but everything was written in her facial expression.

Harry didn’t say anything.

He stood by the doorway, arms folded and waiting for her to finish her banter at him.

“I wouldn’t go.” Hermione said with finality in her tone. “Go if it will help your department.”

He didn’t say anything.

He knew it would end that way.

It wasn’t a ‘go for it Harry’ it was ‘let me see you go with it Harry’ kind of challenge.

She always made him feel like he had to choose a lot of things against his choice of her and at the end of the day, he’d always end up with the same goddamn choice.

“I’ll make the pasta.” Harry said. “I’ll put extra mozzarella and tomatoes on it as you wish.”

“As I wish?” Hermione said with a chuckle.

Harry nodded at her with a gentle look over his face this time.

He walked back to her and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

“As you wish, ‘Mione.” Harry whispered before moving away and walking out of the living room, leaving Hermione satisfied knowing she’d won the argument over without even trying so hard.

If only she knew what he had done that day.

The Malfoy Manor was fully decorated by the time that Draco returned to it.

In only a couple of hours, the manor was going to be open once more to the public as he would coin and term it out.

The invitations were handed out smoothly and the buffet menu were perfect as it could possibly be.

Seeing all of it unfold before his eyes felt like going back in time when parties, galas and such gatherings were a normal and nothing but a daily event at the Malfoy household.

He walked down the ground floor and servants were moving in and out of the places bringing in other decors and stuff.

His father really had the nerve to spend as much as he could to pay people and things to ensure that the ‘grand celebration’ for his welcome home was going to be the latest talk of the town.

He was dying out of humiliation and there was nothing he could do about it because well, there was nothing to do about it.

It was either he was out there not batting an eye to what his father could possibly do to damage things further or he was within the premises and be able to control whatever damage he may do so.

“Draco!” his father’s voice coined in as he crossed the room and was about to take the grand staircase. “Draco!”

He rolled his eyes and slowly turned to him bearing all work document in his hands and his sweaty and stained Healer robes.

“What?” he asked wheeling around him with an irritated flare around him.

Draco rolled his eyes as his father excited greeted him.

He had a big smile about him and was wearing a nice new set of elegant robes.

The man obviously sold something so expensive that he still managed the luxury of buying himself clothes that he had deprived his father since he was released from Azkaban.

“Do you like it?” Lucius asked him with a smile pointing over himself and slightly turning about to show off the fine material used for it.

Draco would not even want to estimate how many hospital meals that could possibly cost.

“I don’t have time for this.” Draco simply told him. “What do you want?”

“I’ve bought you the set of robes you should wear at the party tonight.” Lucius said. “I’ve asked the servants to bring it into your room. I would like you to try it out and show me so we both know if there should be-“

“You what?” Draco snapped at him. “You went into my room?”

There was such anger in his face and tone that Lucius had been confused for a moment about what they were talking about.

“I just told you I bought you a set of new robes-“

“I heard that.” Draco said. “I asked if you went into my room-“

“I didn’t.” Lucius said. “If you were listening, I asked a servant to-“

“I don’t need new clothes.” Draco said. “I’m not staying long at your little gathering.”

Draco turned from him taking quick steps up the staircase but Lucius called him back.

He looked angry but he was restraining himself.

He had come into terms with himself that he wasn’t going to stop until he is able to please Draco like the old days.

“Please.” Lucius said with a knowing smile over his face. “Draco, I’ve been taken out from Azkaban – isn’t that something to be celebrated-“

“Celebrated?” Draco angrily wheeled back at him this time.

He took several steps back down from the grand steps and stared down at his father with such fury in his eyes.

“You want me to celebrate with the rest of those idiots because you’ve been released from Azkaban?” he repeated each word with emphasis that he wasn’t glad at all about its idea.

Lucius stared back at him with contemplating eyes.

“But my son-“

“Don’t- “ Draco spat at him with his arms shaking at his sides to restrain himself from pointing at his father. “Don’t you dare-“

“Draco, will there never be peace between the two of us?” he suddenly asked him with such gentleness in his tone and eyes.

Draco stared at him, searching and searching for lies he knew were there.

His father wasn’t a sincere person as far as he could tell.

He would do anything, say anything and wear any kind of façade that he knew would work towards the person he was manipulating.

And for Draco, gone were the days when that worked on him – when he was and could still be manipulated by his own father.

If he was determined to ignore him, Lucius was also very determined into making sure that he gets Draco back into his hands to control.

But he was no longer the old Draco that he knew.

He was a different boy, a different man

He was no longer his father’s son.

“I’m not going to that damned ball of yours.” Draco said straightening up with finality in his tone. “Don’t drag me into this fallacy of aristocracy you feel you still have because we both know you’ve fallen a very long time ago.”

There was a cold glint that passed Lucius’ eyes as Draco gave him a murderous look before turning away from him and stalking loudly up the marble staircase of the manor.

“Potter and Granger are coming.” Lucius finally said in a loud and clear tone for Draco to hear up ahead the stairs. “They have sent a reply to my assistant this morning.”

Draco halted in his steps but he didn’t turn from his father.

But he knew him too well to understand that this was enough reason not only to catch Draco’s attention back at him but to weave him into following in what he wanted to happen for the ball night.

“You’re making friends with them lately, aren’t you?” Lucius slowly said with silky tone. “I’m quite sure they will be disappointed if they won’t be seeing their attending Healer here. Come now, Draco.. you wouldn’t want them bored out of their wits knowing they’re wasting their time here in the name of fundraising, yes?”

He could see Draco’s silhouette thinking very hard with his fist shaking at his sides.

“Alright, that’s settled then.” Lucius said in a very obvious victorious voice. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint me, would you? Or per se, disappoint Miss Granger?”

Draco was shaking in anger as he stood unmoving halfway up the stairs.

A slight chuckle from Lucius came, echoing around the hall of the large manor.

“I’m going to stay at the library and wait for you there bearing that nice outfit I bought for you, Draco so we can see if there are last minute arrangements to be made. Some whiskey is also waiting for you at the library, my son.”
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Through the Son