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The Pianist	By : goldhorse Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 13338 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own HP, JK Rowling does. I make no money doing this.

Chapter List
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AN: *shakes head* Doesn't anyone read the Author's note? I said it wasn't the end. *wink*

Hermione almost dumped tea all over herself when she picked up the morning newspaper.
Astoria Malfoy caught in scandalous position with French Minister’s nephew.
She eagerly read over the editorial, one she knew Rita Skeeter had practically drooled over. In it was years’ worth of incriminating evidence that Astoria was less than honorable. Having known that Malfoys regularly paid off the press, she wondered if Draco hadn’t allowed this story to leak for another purpose. Sure enough, at the very end, Rita spun the story perfectly. Inconsolable about his wife’s poor decisions and concerned about the effect that her morals would have on his son, Draco Malfoy was filing for divorce. It would be the first divorce in Malfoy family history.
“Good news?” Harry asked as he entered her office at the Ministry.
She quickly closed the paper and stuffed it in a drawer. “Not really. The legislation for werewolf equality is gaining public support. Soon the wolfsbane potion will be readily available to everyone.”
“And that’s not good?”
She huffed. “It would be if they would allow them to vote, or hold down a job that interacted with the public. But so far they’ve been relegated to dishwashers and hard laborers. If I could just find a potion master willing to take on the modification project….”
“You’ll get there,” Harry said consolingly, patting her hand. “Are you ready for Christmas hols?”
“Oh, yes. I’ve gotten at least three letters a day from Rose demanding to know if she has the part despite the fact that Andrei sent her pensieves of the entire ballet so she could practice.”
Harry chuckled. “No more fights then?”
“No. McGonagall actually wrote to me a month ago asking what Draco and I said to the children to cause such a turn around. She said they’re completely different people, nearly inseparable actually.”
Harry frowned. “What did you do?”
Hermione blushed and ducked her head. “We found a common activity they both enjoyed and pounced on it. And Draco might have shown Scorpius a few memories from the war.”
“My God!” Harry almost shouted, jumping from his chair. “He’s only eleven!”
“How old were you when you fought Voldemort the first time?” she asked quietly.
Harry sunk back down. “Eleven. But why Hermione?”
“Lucius almost had him brainwashed, thinking Pureblood was the only blood and all that rot.”
Harry’s jaw ticked. “And Malfoy was not pleased I take it?”
She shook her head. “For a moment, I wondered if he was going to strike Scorpius.”
Harry cocked his head. “Why?”
She berated herself for giving so much away but Harry was just so easy to talk to. She steeled herself for his reaction and spilled the beans. “Scorpius called me a mudblood.”
Harry’s jaw dropped. “And Malfoy almost hit him for it?”
She nodded. “He’s changed, Harry.”
He closed his mouth and shook his head. “I know. He sent us messages during the war but I didn’t think… well, I don’t know if I ever thought about it really.”
She shrugged. “I don’t think anyone has.”
Harry nodded absently before his eyes narrowed. “What common activity did you find?”
Hermione fiddled with the quill on her desk. “Every ballerina needs music.”
“And,” he led.
She smiled. “Scorpius plays piano.”
He sat back hard. “Huh. Never would have thought it.”
She nodded. “It was quite amazing. He plays a beautiful Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy. He plays for her so she can practice. Rose says it’s much better than a recording because he can adjust if she needs to go over a part more than once without having to stop and walk over to fix the CD.”
“Wait. How did you find out Scorpius plays piano?”
“Draco volunteered him to play actually. He saw Rose’s shoes, the ones Andrei gave her on the platform, and had the idea that Scorpius play for her.”
“Well I never,” he said, dumbfounded. “I guess if it works, right?”
She smiled again. “I’m happy with it, not sure about how Ron will feel. I haven’t told him yet. Rose might have though she hasn’t mentioned it. But it beats having her come home in a sling, missing some teeth, or permanently expelled.”
“So when is her recital?”
“Christmas Eve at six. They’ll be doing performances throughout the holiday, but Christmas Eve will be the special one.”
“Special?”
She nodded. “Andrei is letting her dance the Sugar Plum fairy role… with Oksana.”
“Wow,” he breathed. “Isn’t she like… a big name performer?”
Her smile widened into a grin. “She’s the best ballerina in all of Russia, or so Andrei says. Rose doesn’t know it yet but Andrei felt like she’d done such an amazing turn around, she needed a little extra something.”
“No doubt he felt bad for coming down on her in the first place.”
“Of course.”
A knock at the door startled her and she bade for them to enter.
“Sorry ma’am,” her secretary said. “But this just arrived for you.”
“Thank you Edith,” Hermione said, heart skipping a beat when she noticed the writing on the box. She set it aside, itching to open it but deciding to finish with Harry first.
“Well,” Harry said with a grin. “I know you want to open it.”
She sighed, knowing there was no way around it. It was another music box, this one yellow. It looked like it was made out of tiny bricks. When she opened it, she almost laughed. Inside, a figure dressed as Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz spun a pirouette as the Wicked Witch of the West melted. The box played Ding Dong the Witch is Dead. Inside, there was a scrap of paper. It simply said ‘One down. The Pianist.’ She didn’t know when Draco had taken a liking to muggle films, but it was perfect… as always.
“Who gave you that?” Harry asked, frowning when she burned the scrap of paper like she always had.
“Oh, just a friend.”
“You always say that,” he said, looking at her necklace. “And yet, you’ve never once mentioned who it is.”
She shrunk the box, created a hook, and placed it in a link beside the one that played the Hallelujah chorus signifying the end of her marriage. “And I doubt I ever will. Did you want anything else?”
Harry frowned, eyeing the box for a few minutes before shaking his head. “Just wanted to make sure we didn’t miss Rose’s big debut.”
“I’ll put it on your calendar,” she said with a smile. “Ginny already has the tickets and Andromeda has agreed to watch the smallest babies. Anything else?”
“No,” he said, eyeing her necklace again before smiling. “You’ve got it under control as usual.”
She watched him leave, waiting a moment before locking the door and reading the newspaper article again. She hoped Scorpius took it well but she couldn’t help but hope that this meant the end of an endless wait.
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“Mum, I think I’m going to be sick,” Rose said, turning green as she peeked in between the curtains at the full house. The theater was packed for the much advertised special performance.
“Sweetheart, you’ve already performed this every night for a week. Why are you so nervous now?”
“Because,” she whispered. “Everyone is here now. Granddad and Grandmum, both sets. The whole rest of the family. And… other people. I’ve never performed the Sugar Plum Fairy bit in front of an audience. What if I mess up? What if I fall on my face?”
“Easy,” Hermione said. She chuckled and looked around before drawing a vial of calming draught out of her purse. “Take this. It’ll help.”
Rose’s eyes widened. “But mum!”
“It won’t give you an edge or anything,” she assured her daughter. “It will just help you relax.”
Rose didn’t hesitate, taking it in one swig. It wasn’t a strong dose. Hermione didn’t want her sleepy, just not quite as neurotic. Like mother like daughter. She breathed a sigh of relief when Rose’s breathing slowed.
“Good,” she cooed. “Now, Andrei is waiting for you for warm ups and I’ve got to find my seat.”
Rose nodded and accepted a kiss for good luck before bouncing out to find her teacher. Hermione wiped a tear from her eye, berating herself for getting sentimental again. She promised herself she’d stop doing that but hadn’t managed to curb it yet. She found her seat and made small talk with everyone while they waited for the ballet to begin.
Hermione watched in awe when it started, her daughter proudly dancing in front, fighting with the boys for her Nutcracker. Each scene was exquisite and she especially liked when she’d decked the Rat King and tried to run away. She was sure Andrei slipped that in there just for Rose. This night’s performance was better than all the others combined, every dancer spot on. It made her long for the days she used to dance, though she was nowhere near as skilled as Rose. When the Sugar Plum Fairy came out with her daughter in tow, she couldn’t breathe. In fact, she was still panting when the curtain went down. She cheered so loud people gave her nasty looks but she didn’t care. She couldn’t imagine being more proud.
It took a while to make her way to the side to see the ballerinas. She had an easier go of it since the security team and the ballet company knew her. Rose was glowing, signing autographs and posing for pictures with young aspiring dancers, all hoping to be Clara when they grew up. It felt like hours before the crowd let up and she was glad the family stood back out of respect for the fans. But soon enough, Rose was covered up, congratulations all around. There was a tinge of sadness in Rose’s eyes though and Hermione made it a point to pull her away for a moment to ask her why.
“What’s wrong darling?”
“Oh, nothing,” she sighed, tears pooling in her pretty blue eyes.
“That’s not nothing,” Hermione scolded. “Come on. You danced so beautifully. I made a fool out of myself cheering for you.”
Rose gave her a watery smile. “I could hear you. But… but someone was supposed to come and I didn’t see them.”
“Oh honey, it’s a big theater. They might have gotten lost in the crowd.”
Rose nodded solemnly. “Yeah… you’re probably right. They just… didn’t want to stand in line.”
“Well, it is an awfully long line.”
Rose spun out of Hermione’s arms and jumped up and down. “SCORPIUS! YOU CAME!”
Scorpius grinned and let her practically barrel over him. “Of course I did. I played my bloody fingers off to help you prepare. You think I’d miss this?”
Hermione stiffened when Draco walked over to her. She couldn’t believe they were here. Draco chuckled and handed her a bouquet of roses.
“For Rose. Scorpius insisted, but I think he might have forgotten them.”
Hermione took them, taking in the delicate pinks and yellows. “They’re beautiful.”
“So was she,” Draco said, nodding to Rose.
“She really was,” Hermione sighed, relaxing a bit.
“She’s all he’s talked about since he came home for hols. Actually, she’s just about all he ever writes about as well. Astoria threw a screeching fit, banned him from seeing her ever again.”
“That’s horrible!”
He smirked. “She got hers.”
“You didn’t!”
He shrugged, his eyes still on his son who was jabbering non-stop about how amazing Rose had done and how bloody cool it was that she got to punch a rat. “Needs must.”
“How’s your father?” she asked cautiously.
He grinned nastily. “Livid. Won’t even speak to me, shunned Scorpius.” He frowned. “It hurt Scorpius but I think he finally realized that Lucius is not the saint he portrays himself to be. Anyway, to add insult to injury, mother is encouraging Scorpius. She sits for hours and listens to him play. It’s a bit like déjà vu.”
“It’s good Scorpius still has his grandmother.”
Draco nodded. “They’re closer than they ever were and I am glad of it.”
“How is Scorpius taking the news of your impending divorce?”
“It’s final,” he said darkly. “And Scorpius hasn’t said a word against it. He was pretty much fine with it as soon as she tried to forbid him from seeing his best friend.”
Hermione shook her head. “We’ve created monsters.”
“What’s he doing here?”
Hermione rolled her eyes when she heard Ron’s indignant bellow. “God this is just what everyone needs tonight.”
Draco sighed. “I really do not like your ex-husband, Hermione.”
She sniffed. “I wasn’t a fan of your ex-wife either, Draco.”
He smirked. “Me neither. But we aren’t going to be friends. In fact, I’m fairly certain I’ll never see her again. The weasel… we’ll have to deal with him on a daily basis.”
“We?” she whispered, not daring to hope.
He’s smirked softened for a moment and he leaned in to murmur in her ear. “I figure I’ve gotten my heir and I’ve managed to move a few galleons. Fuck everyone else, so long as we’re extremely careful. I can’t stay away from you and … I was sort of hoping the position hadn’t been filled.”
She snorted, her mind immediately veering off where it shouldn’t. “Not since Rose.” She blushed beet red, realizing what she’d said.
He laughed. “Well, well. That’s very interesting.”
“Damn it, Malfoy,” she growled, frustrated at the slip of her tongue.
Draco laughed louder. “Oh Granger, you’re a riot.”
“What the bloody hell is going on here?” Ron hollered, despite being held back by Harry. Jennifer looked livid at his outburst, but unable to do anything because she had Hugo.
Draco immediately stopped laughing, his jaw tightening. She could see the Malfoy mask go up in an instant as he spun to face her ex-husband’s wrath. “I was here to catch the ballet, Weasley.”
“A muggle ballet?” Ron said with a nasty sneer.
Draco sniffed. “A ballet staring my son’s best friend, if you must know.”
“Your son’s best…” Ron said, drawing the conclusion just a second too late. “Oh no. No. Rose is not friends with your little-“
“Choose your words very carefully, Weasley,” Draco snarled. “That is my son you are about to malign.”
“Your son has an affinity for hitting girls.”
“And your daughter has an affinity for hitting boys,” Draco said mimicking Ron’s tone. “Now that we’re done playing mine is bigger than yours, can we get back to what matters most tonight?” He spun elegantly and walked up to Rose, shaking her hand. “You danced most magnificently tonight, Miss Weasley. I do hope to see you perform again.”
Rose’s glazed look of horror melted and she beamed at Draco. “Thank you Mr. Malfoy. I really couldn’t have done it without Scorpius. He played until his fingers cramped. I think he even bruised them at one point.”
“Your toes bled,” Scorpius muttered.
“Yeah but that’s normal,” Rose said, brushing him off. “You helped so much.”
Scorpius blushed bright red before he caught sight of the roses in Hermione’s hand. He quirked an eyebrow and Hermione jumped to attention. He looked so much like his father, cocky and slightly mischievous. She handed him the roses which he quickly gave to his best friend.
“I… I thought you deserved these.”
Rose started crying and hugged him so hard he wheezed.
“That’s impossible,” Ron growled. “Get away from him Rosie. He’s a good for nothing little wanker and you aren’t to see him anymore.”
Hermione’s jaw dropped in outrage. But no one was as quick to spit fire as Rose.
“How dare you!” Rose screeched. “I thought you’d be happy! I worked out my differences and made an amazing friend. I danced my arse off! He came to support me and all you can do is scream at him. You… you’re no better than his mother and grandfather! And you will NOT tell me who I can be friends with.”
“I am your father,” Ron growled.
Rose sneered at him. “Not by choice. I’m not going to live with you anymore.”
Before Hermione could say anything, Rose turned and ran, Scorpius in tow.”
“Shit,” Draco growled, stopping Hermione from running after them. “Best let them cool off. Scorpius did the same thing when Astoria made her decree.”
“But they’re running off!” Hermione cried.
“Not far,” Draco said, putting up a tripping jinx to stop the others from going after them. “I put a tracking spell on Scorpius when he started learning how to walk. He got into some of the strangest places. Even the elves couldn’t find him sometimes.”
“So you know where they are?” Harry growled, putting himself to rights after he’d tripped.
Draco nodded and cocked his head. “I believe they just met up with Andrei.”
“How can you tell?” Hermione asked.
“The spell is interacting with foreign magic. I got used to Rose’s magic since they’re practically inseparable, but others put off different pulses.”
“Oh thank Merlin,” Hermione breathed in relief. Then her anger flared full force and she spun, smacking a gaping Ron right across the face. She couldn’t bring herself to care at that moment. “How dare you treat our daughter so poorly,” she seethed.
“She’s with a Malfoy,” Ron yelled.
“SO?” Hermione screamed. “He’s a right sight better than you are I’d imagine. Rose was right. You’re prejudiced against your own kind! We fought a war for equality for Merlin’s sake, not so you could condemn others for the same.”
“They were Death Eaters,” Ron growled.
“Draco was a spy,” she hissed so low only Ron and Draco would have heard it.
“The Ministry might have bought that,” Ron started.
Hermione’s eyes narrowed into slits. Her magic was practically boiling in her veins and she itched to hex the living daylights out of him. “How do you think I knew where to look for all the clues?”
With that, she grabbed Draco’s arm and stalked off down the hall. She was thankful Harry held Ron back because she wouldn’t be held accountable for her actions. He let her lead until they turned a corner and were out of sight of everyone.
“Take me to my daughter,” she ordered him.
Draco sighed and yanked his wrist out of her arm. She looked at him, hurt filling her eyes until he drew her into his chest. “You need to calm down too.”
Hermione broke apart, crying out in anguish. The night was ruined and she realized what a mistake she’d made, though she did have Rose to show for it. How was everything still so messed up? Almost thirteen years and prejudice was still rampant. When would it all be over?
“Shhh,” Draco whispered in her ear as he rubbed her back. “Weasley’s a hot head. He’ll think it over and realize he was an arse and apologize. Rose might be angry with him but she’ll forgive him and everything will be just fine.”
She laughed in disbelief. “Fine? Have you been infected by a Hufflepuff lately? He meant it, Draco. He’s prejudiced against purebloods!”
“He’s prejudiced against Death Eaters.”
“You didn’t have a bloody choice!”
“Wasn’t it you who said I did?”
She shook her head. “No, you didn’t really have a choice, not to take the Mark.”
“I was okay with having it at the time,” he said sadly. “I was livid and thought Potter took my father away from me and I happily stuck my bloody arm out for it. But it only took a few days for me to realize I was wrong. It was a few too late. I was willing to go to Azkaban, Granger. I’m not an innocent man. There was a time when I would have happily watched you die and reveled in my superiority.”
She sighed. “What changed?”
He chuckled, burying his nose in her unruly hair and inhaling deeply. “Music can change everything. I’d already realized my mistake but I was prepared to deal with the fall out. But then this wonderful thing happened. A beautiful ballerina walked in on me playing the piano during the darkest time in my life. She might as well have been wearing angel wings. She was my salvation.”
Hermione shakily sighed, trying to calm herself down. “Would you believe you were my respite?”
He held her closer to him. “I want to. I’m still a dark wizard, Granger. I prefer shades of grey to black and white. I definitely don’t have a Gryffindor bleeding heart. I’m not nice or warm or bubbly. Hell, I’m not sure why you even found me attractive to begin with.”
She looked up at him. “No one who plays like you do could be as cold as you say you are.”
He smirked. “I didn’t say I was made of ice, Granger. I do know one thing though. I fell in love with a girl who got lost in the music. She took my heart and she’s never given it back. I couldn’t even bear to touch another woman after her. I had to take three potions and a Weasley’s Patented Day Dreaming charm so I could consummate my marriage. Astoria didn’t even notice her drink was spiked with a fertility potion.”
“You mean there hasn’t been anyone?”
He shook his head. “Just my hand and a marvelous invention called a pensieve.”
She blushed. “I took a fertility potion on my wedding night.”
He snorted. “Figures. You didn’t have to dope yourself out of your mind. ”
She stepped back and smacked him. “Has the phrase ‘lie back and think of England’ ever had any meaning to you?”
He sighed and pulled her into him again. “We’re a right pair of idiots, aren’t we?”
“Did you really not call on me because you were trying to protect my precious virtue?”
He frowned. “Mostly. You deserve my all, not just a short stint in a seedy hotel room somewhere and I especially didn’t want to knock you up… only to lose you and any possible child you would carry. And partly because Astoria put an infidelity charm on the marriage contract in case she needed some black mail material. I didn’t want them knowing about you, for your sake, not mine, though they obviously suspect. Astoria didn’t expect that one to backfire on her I’d imagine.”
“Slytherins,” Hermione muttered.
“Your daughter seems to be just fine with them.”
She sighed. “Truth be told, Ron is the only one with the problem. Harry’s done a 180 since he found out Snape’s true allegiances. He still visits his grave every year, apologizing for doubting him and thanking him for saving him.”
“Well that’s just silly,” Draco sniffed.
“It is not,” she growled.
“Easy lioness,” Draco purred. “It’s silly because Snape is alive.”
“He is not! I saw him die.”
“You saw him go into a coma. I helped him leave the country myself.”
“What?” she asked softly.
He smiled at her. “Snape is alive and well. He found a woman just as mean and cranky as he is in America. They even have a few brats of their own.”
“But,” she shook her head. “Why didn’t he come back?”
“Simple. He’s tired, Granger. Let the poor man live in peace.”
“Then why tell me?” she asked.
“Because,” he said softly. “I’m going to visit him tomorrow and I wanted to invite you and Rose to come along.”
“He’d hex me as soon as I walked across his threshold.”
Draco chuckled. “No he wouldn’t… though he might hex me. Just… don’t tell Potter just yet okay? He’ll be bad enough with you.”
She bit her lip. “Do… do you think he might answer some potions related questions I have?”
Draco cocked his head. “You have questions?”
She nodded. “About elements of the wolfsbane potion. I’ve been trying to find a potion master willing to work on making it a more long term fix, possibly a cure, but no one will touch it.”
“Why not?”
She smiled at him. “Because he created it. No one is confident enough to perfect what they consider perfection.”
“Well, it’s certainly a thought. He’s probably tired of teaching me anyway.”
“Teaching you?”
“I said I wanted to be a potions master. I made a deal. My secrecy for his training.”
“You sort of just broke your secrecy,” she whispered.
“Not if you don’t tell anyone.”
“Slytherin,” she murmured.
He gave her a Cheshire grin and subtly ground his pelvis into her. “Don’t mind if I do.”
“Draco!” she breathed, scandalized by his brazenness.
“I’ve been damn near celibate for a very long time, Granger,” he growled. “I only wish we had the time and place for me to show you how much I missed you.”
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“How in the bloody hell did you do it?” Harry asked as he stalked through Hermione’s office door.
“Do what?” she asked, subtly putting the music box she’d been playing with in her drawer.
It was Draco’s latest gift, a replica of Rose dancing as the Sugar Plum fairy. Scorpius was playing piano beneath her, looking up with the same awe that had been on her first Christmas gift from him. They’d come full circle. She just hoped that everything else would work out.
“Find someone willing to work on Snape’s potion?”
“Oh,” she said softly. “I went to America.”
“America?” Harry asked in shock. “How did you decide to go there?”
Hermione grinned, thinking about the shocked looked on Snape’s face when Draco came waltzing in with her in tow. He’d been exceedingly angry at first but after he had assurances that she wouldn’t tell anyone about him, he relaxed and eventually agreed to work on the potion. Though Snape’s wife, a muggleborn named Penelope, was gruff, Hermione felt welcomed. And Snape’s three little boys were simply darling, little replicas of their father, each just as brilliant at brewing. She pushed the thoughts back and focused on the conversation again.
“Draco’s been studying under a potion master there for years in his spare time. After Ron decided to ruin Rose’s day, he offered to take us there to get away from it all. And we accepted.”
“You… you just accepted?” he said slowly.
She nodded. “We had a lovely time. Scorpius and Rose babbled so much Draco actually put a silencing charm on them. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop them. They probably wrote the equivalent of Hogwarts: A History three times. At least it was quiet.”
What she didn’t mention was that Rose was actually so excited to talk to the elusive war hero that she was frightened Snape might actually hex her. Scorpius wasn’t any better, having not ever met the man. Draco had done it as damage control. And though Snape was less than impressed with the scratching of the quill, he tolerated it better than incessant questions.
Harry shook his head. “I can’t believe they got on so well. Or that you and Malfoy did for that matter.”
She shrugged. “He’s changed. I mean, he can still be a pompous arse, but he’s definitely changed.”
Harry cocked his head, his eyes widening with a revelation. “You fancy him.”
“What?” she asked warily.
He pointed at her. “You fancy Malfoy.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Oh, I’m the ridiculous one,” he scoffed and shook his head, his eyes catching the pendent on her necklace. His jaw dropped and she saw all the little cogs in his brain click into place. She cringed as he sucked in a large breath. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. That bloody music box piano player looks just like him. And whenever you got a missive from your informant during the war, it always came with a music box. Malfoy was the informant. And I don’t think it’s a coincidence that he just happened to see Rose’s shoes and decided Scorpius should play for her. No, no. I think you’ve been hiding something for a very long time.”
“Harry please, calm down,” she said, noticing her friends flushed face as he stood from the chair.
“How long Hermione? How long have you been seeing him?”
She frowned. “Since Christmas.”
“Bollocks. You’ve been seeing him since school, haven’t you?”
“No,” she whispered. “You have it all wrong. It wasn’t like that.”
He fell back into his chair and leaned over the desk. “Then you tell me what it was like right now Hermione, or so help me-”
“Stop,” she growled. “All right, just stop. My choices were my own but it was your bloody fault I found him in the first place. During sixth year, when you sent me to the ROR to check on Malfoy, I found him. He was playing piano and I… one night I couldn’t resist. I was so sick of Ron and Lavender playing suck face that I just… I wanted to lose myself in the music so I barged in. He never stopped playing. I danced like I hadn’t danced in years and I finally felt… free. But I felt guilty afterwards and I avoided him. He never said anything and I was drawn back. I danced and he played Harry. All right?”
“And you expect me to believe that’s all?”
She glared at him and sat back in her chair. “Fine, I fucked him. Are you happy? We had hot, sweaty, passionate sex on top of a grand piano to the songs in some of these music boxes I wear!” She breathed heavily, watching Harry’s eyes bulge out of his head at her news. She shook her head and sighed, calming slightly. “He told me to never come back, no matter what. I begged him to talk to Dumbledore. And the next time I saw him, we were in the drawing room of his Manor. He… he stopped the cruciatis curse from hurting me any more Harry. He was able to keep my mind intact somehow. I… I still haven’t gotten up the courage to ask him how… or why. He sent the black music box with a healing potion the day after we escaped. The next time I saw him was the war.”
“You were dating Ron that summer,” Harry growled.
She nodded. “I was.”
“And Malfoy?”
She sighed. “His engagement was announced in the papers, remember? He was getting married so I… I went with Ron. We didn’t speak for the entire year.”
“I don’t believe you,” Harry said, his face grim.
She narrowed her eyes. “Fine. Two weeks before graduation, we met in the ROR again. He played, I danced. Then we said our goodbyes. We kissed once. It was innocent. That was it. I hadn’t seen him in a one on one capacity until Rose’s recital. Happy?”
Harry frowned. “Did you love him?”
She huffed. “I never stopped.”
“Then why marry other people?”
“I loved Ron,” she said softly. “It wasn’t enough but I did love him… and I couldn’t ask for a better daughter. And Draco can’t marry me. If he did, I would die from some ancient curse designed to keep the Malfoy line pure. He can’t get rid of it until Lucius is dead.”
“So don’t marry,” Harry said. “Why put yourselves through all that misery?”
She chuckled darkly. “Now you’re angry because we didn’t try. He had to inherit Harry, though he said he would be happy with just a loving family. I knew he couldn’t leave it behind though. He had to marry a pureblood and produce an heir. And he has. Besides, you and I both know that Lucius wouldn’t stop at just blasting him off the family tree.”
“So you two are going to give it a go now?”
She sighed. “Not publicly.”
“You still can’t marry,” Harry said knowingly.
She shook her head. “No. Lucius is still very much a threat and we don’t want to put the children through the circus the press would cause. But I’m not sure I can stand being apart any longer. We’ll just… have to be extremely careful.”
“I don’t like it,” Harry said finally. “Ron.”
“I know,” she said. “I do feel bad for stringing him along like that. I really thought I could make it work… but I just couldn’t. So I decided to let him go. Besides, he’s happier with Jennifer. And I have Rose. And hopefully he and Rose can work out their differences.”
Harry sighed. “Ron agreed to go to counseling. Jennifer insisted. I have to agree. He’s been holding in his anger for way too long.”
She hummed in agreement. “I think we all have.”
“But Hermione, how could we have not noticed you had a connection with Malfoy?”
She smiled sadly. “I guess I did learn a few things from him.”
“Maybe. I just… I hope this works out for you guys.”
“Me too Harry. Me too.”

AN: Think it will work out. Should this be the end? As always, thanks to everyone who reviewed. I read them on my entirely too awful night shifts and they make me smile. Keep them coming and let me know how I'm doing. Until next time... love you guys.
*This chapter brought to you by the entire Nutcracker Suite. Enjoy.
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The Pianist