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Forgiven	By : Tassanaburrfoot Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 18105 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not now, nor have I ever, owned Harry Potter or the books or contents. This work is purely for my own pleasure, no profit to be made.

Chapter List
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Draco nodded as he signed the parchment and looked at the florist. “Make sure she gets these at noon,” he instructed. “It’ll be time for her lunch around then and I want her to receive them when I approach her.”
The florist, a young, pretty Half-blood, smiled and gave a little giggle. “She really is special to be receiving flowers from you,” she commented.
He gave her a smirk, but then looked at her seriously. “She must not know where they came from. Understand? I’ll tell her in time, but it will be my time.”
“Of course, Mr. Malfoy,” she agreed. “Your involvement will be seen with the utmost discretion.”
He gave her a final smile as he turned on his heel and walked out of the florists with Maisey on his heels. Now that he was finished with that, he touched Maisey’s head and, together, they Apparated to Hogsmeade. His first stop was into Honeydukes. “Should I get Chocolate Cauldrons or perhaps some Pumpkin Pasties?” he asked, glancing at Maisey.
She hesitated for a moment. “Is this for Master Draco?” she questioned and he shook his head, giving her a pointed look. Her eyebrows wrinkled. “You did just buy her a bouquet of flowers, sir,” she explained. “Don’t you think adding sweets would be a bit much?”
“I want it to be a bit much,” he told her. “I want her to know that there is someone out there thinking about her and it’s not that red headed pauper.”
She looked up at him curiously. “Then, may I suggest a box of treacle fudge?” she pressed, letting her green eyes lift up to meet his.
He glanced at her thoughtfully for a moment before standing up straight and raising his head. “Good idea, Maisey,” he praised.
“If you want to give someone cavities,” chimed a female voice from behind a tall shelf of varying sweets.
Draco nearly choked on his own saliva as Granger peered around the corner. He quickly regained his composure with a lazy smirk. This was good. She would be able to tell him without meaning to, what sort of sweets she would like. “And why would you say that, Granger?”
She walked around the shelf and was carrying a small basket that she had filled with some Chocolate frogs and several boxes of Bertie Botts. “You’ve probably never had a cavity in your entire life, have you?”
“I don’t even know what a cavreetry is,” he admitted, his face relaxed in an amused look.
She scoffed. “Of course not,” she said as she pushed past him. “I’m sure you go to the Healers consistently to make sure your teeth are cleaned and well cared for.”
He frowned. “My teeth? What are you on about?” He briefly had a bizarre thought that something might be in his teeth, and he casually glanced in a mirror to look at his teeth. He didn’t see anything, but he did hear Granger giggling. His attention turned back to her. “What?”
She shook her head and turned away from him. “God forbid anyone say one word about your appearance,” she laughed.
His frown deepened for a moment as he hurried to catch up with her. “So what is it?” he asked. “Cavreetries? Why would I need a Healer to check my teeth?”
“Cavities,” she corrected as she picked up two liquorice wands. “In the Muggle world, there are these doctors called dentists who check people’s teeth every six months to make sure there are no cavities. Both of my parents are dentists. It was just a statement. I’m sure you, of all people, probably will never need to see a dentist in your life.”
She truly wasn’t making any sense to him, and he quickly looked for a change of subject. “So, if you’re so opposed to sweets, what are you doing here buying just that?” he asked, genuinely curious.
She paused and he could see he had hit a nerve. The more time Draco spent around her, the more confused he became. She turned slightly and her honey colored eyes met his. “How is that any of your concern?” she asked.
When did this conversation turn sour? He looked at her in confusion. “It was just a question, Granger,” he said as he picked up a package of Chocolate Cauldrons.
She sighed and lifted her basket, placing it on the counter. “I’m sorry, Malfoy,” she said as the cashier began ringing up her treats. “I’m just stressed. Ron is just…” she growled. “Ginny asked me to pick these up for her. George’s birthday is coming up soon and she’s currently on the continent with the Harpies. She’ll be home in time to see her brother, but she won’t have time to buy him anything.”
He stared at her warily. It was his luck that he had some idea of whom she was talking about. He wasn’t really the type to keep up on Gryffindors, especially ginger haired ones, but he did read the Daily Prophet, and he remembered seeing the one twin die. Regardless of their Gryffindor pauper status, the Weasley twins were infamous through the halls of Hogwarts. “Her idea is to buy him chocolate?”
She shrugged as she dug money out of her purse to pay the cashier. “She might end up buying something for him on the continent, but I doubt it. If she doesn’t, this will be a good back up plan,” she said, taking the bag of sweets from the cashier.
As Draco followed her out onto the streets, Granger looked at him curiously. “Where’s your bag?”
“What?” he asked, confused.
She indicated his empty hands with a wave of her own hand. “Weren’t you in there to buy sweets? Where did they go?”
He shrugged and glanced down at Maisey for a moment before replying, “I just realized that the girl I was going to buy them for doesn’t really like sweets,” he told the Muggle-born.
She nodded slowly. “That’s a shame,” she said. “All my talk about sweets and cavities, I do have to admit I have a slight sweet tooth myself. I do enjoy those Sugar Quills. Do you have a favorite?”
He lifted a single eyebrow at that. “Honestly? I prefer Cauldron cakes,” he answered. He hesitated for a split second before an idea struck him. She had started walking again and he hurried to catch up with her. “Hey, Granger!” he called to her, causing her to stop and turn to him again. He jogged up next to her and began walking with her. “I have an appointment with McGonagall in about an hour. Fancy a butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks to kill some time?”
Her eyes searched his face and he could see she was interested. “Why do you have an appointment with the Headmistress?” she asked.
He shrugged. “That I’m not sure about. I had sent her an owl last week, asking if there was anything more I could do to help out the school. I might have indicated an interest in possibly teaching, but honestly. Aren’t all the positions filled by now?”
Granger smiled. “I believe so, but Professor Sprout is currently training Neville in Herbology. Maybe the Headmistress wants to see what subject you would like to teach? I know there is more to being a teacher than simply signing on to the job,” she surmised.
“Unless you’re applying for the Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Draco joked. He scrunched his face. “Longbottom wants to be a teacher?”
The Muggle-born’s smile was brilliant and Draco found himself suppressing his own smirk. “Neville is amazing when it comes to plants,” she told him as they walked towards the Three Broomsticks. “You know that he was the one to suggest gillyweed to Harry during the Triwizard Tournament? It was how he was able to swim under the Black Lake to save Ron. Pretty ingenious.”
He frowned. Longbottom was going to be a teacher? Draco suddenly wondered what the world was coming to, then he shrugged. “I don’t know what McGonagall wants, but somehow I doubt she’ll want me teaching the students. I’m not exactly ‘teacher material’,” he said as he felt a sharp pain in his left arm. The pain wasn’t real, but it was a consistent reminder of who and what he was.
She didn’t disagree with his assessment, just shrugged. With a smile, she said, “So, Malfoy, were you planning on introducing me to your house elf? Or are you afraid I’ll try to free her?”
Draco was taken aback by the statement as he heard the small elf squeak in fear and bury herself behind him. He glanced down at the elf and took a step away from her. “I told you. You have nothing to worry about,” he said to the elf. His eyes met Granger’s and his expression hardened. “I won’t let her free you. Besides, only your master can give you freedom.” He turned his attention back to the little elf and knelt down to her level, placing a hand on her head to quiet her rather loud sobbing. He gave Granger another glare.
Draco really wanted to strangle the Muggle-born. He had planned on introducing them later in the day when he offered to take Granger out for lunch, but it seemed that idea was now busted. Perhaps he should have left Maisey home until he was ready to go to the Ministry to pick Granger up? But then having the little elf with him at all times worked more to his advantage. Not only did he have his servant with him at all times in case he needed something, but on the off chance he ran into Granger, like now, she could see a “softer side” of the Pureblood. It could only work to endear him to her.
He straightened up and fixed his suit, straightening his tie. Placing a reassuring hand on the elf, he held his head up as he looked to the Muggle-born. “Granger, this is my house elf, Maisey. She’s been in my family since the day she was born.”
Maybe he was imagining it, but Granger had looked guilty when he had consoled the elf. Now her lips pulled upward into a warm smile as she bent down towards the elf. “Hello, Maisey,” she greeted kindly as she held her hand out towards her. “I’m Hermione Granger.”
“Maisey knows,” the elf said rather patiently. “Maisey knows all about Hermione Granger. First in her year, brightest witch of her age. Hermione Granger made the most O.W.Ls and N.E.W.Ts than any other student. Hermione Granger is a Muggle-born and lives in a rather wealthy section of Muggle Surrey, living on what had belonged originally to her parents.” Her large green eyes gazed up at the Muggle-born in awe. “Hermione Granger helped defeat the Dark Lord. Hermione Granger helped save Maisey’s family.”
For the briefest of moments, both wizard and witch stared at the elf in shock. Then with a nervous chuckle, Draco stepped in front of the elf. “Yes, well,” he stammered with a cough. Grey eyes met honey and he threw her a tentative smile. “How about those butterbeers, hm?”
Granger looked from the wizard to the elf and back again. She was clearly embarrassed, though she hid it behind a cautious smile. “I,” she hesitated, “I just remembered that I had something I needed to take of. Forgive me, but… raincheck?”
He swallowed. This day couldn’t possibly have gotten worse. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Uh… What’s a raincheck?”
(II)(II)
As Draco stepped onto the grounds of Hogwarts, he momentarily felt as though he was traveling back in time. He could see the old Gamekeeper’s hut in the distance and he blinked. It looked a bit new, and he was surprised, until he remembered his aunt having destroyed the hut three years previously.
Other than that, everything else looked the same. The grounds were lush and green, the Black Lake sparkled. He paused when he saw the tree he and Granger had sat under that fateful night. He had just wanted a kiss at the time. A smile played on his lips in memory as he imagined their bodies still dancing under the stars.
“We’ll have that again soon,” he murmured to himself. He glanced down at the little house elf and chuckled at her expression.
“Come on, Maisey,” he laughed as they continued to the castle. He knew she was impressed.
She jogged lightly beside him, her eyes roving over the whole of the grounds. “This is where Master went to school?”
He nodded. “Generations of Malfoy Masters,” he told her. “For hundreds of years. Maybe if we have time and the Headmistress allows us, I’ll take you to the old dungeons and show you my old room.”
His eyes stopped when they landed on an older woman in a old witch’s hat walking towards him from the castle. When she approached him, she looked him up and down severely. “Mr. Malfoy,” she acknowledged.
She had never been one of his favorite teachers with the way she doted on the Gryffindors, but he remembered being impressed with her skill when he was a boy. She still looked just as stern has she had his first year. She still wore the same long, rigid robes and her hair was pulled back in the same tight bun. It had been two years since he had last seen her, but she looked as though she hadn’t aged a day.
His initial reaction upon seeing her, was to give a confident, arrogant smile, but he stopped himself. Keeping his face relaxed, he flashed her a soft smile. There was no love lost between them, he knew. “Professor McGonagall,” he returned, offering her a nod of his head. “It’s been a while.”
“You’re right, Mr. Malfoy,” she said in a rather flippant way. He could tell she was irritated by him and he frowned. “And soon it will be three years since you last stepped foot on these grounds. There hasn’t been enough time to bother with niceties and old memories.”
Confusion played through Draco’s mind for a moment before he readopted his smirk. She was a clever lion. “Yes, well, walking through these grounds, there are very few old memories that I would like to keep,” he told her absently as he followed her into the castle.
As he walked through the halls, more memories flooded his mind, but he ignored them. He had been so focused on what had happened five years ago, it had slipped his mind that the war had occurred merely two years ago. It felt like ages since he had last seen his father. Had it really only been a few months? As they approached the Headmistress’s office, he suddenly felt uncomfortable. He frowned for a moment as he pushed past his comfort and plastered another smirk on his face. “So, was there a reason you called me to the school? The last time I had sent you an owl, offering funds, you had simply replied with the amount you needed for a new greenhouse. I can’t imagine what could be so important that I would have to return here.”
He had never been into the Headmistress’s office before, even when he had gone to school here and it had belonged to Dumbledore. He chanced a quick glance at the surroundings. Honestly, he felt as though he was back in school and walking into McGonagall’s old office for all the similarities it had. Well, minus the portraits on the walls. For a while, no one said anything as Draco’s eyes became fascinated with the different portraits. Headmaster after Headmaster. He paused at one portrait entitled “Phineas Nigellus Black”. He had heard the name before, though looking at the portrait, he didn’t recognize the man at first, but he did recognize the way the man’s frown. Draco blinked. “I didn’t know a Black had been Headmaster of Hogwarts,” he commented.
“There are many things you do not know, boy,” the portrait responded with a sneer.
Draco found he could not really argue with that statement and let it go. He would search the Manor later to see if he could find the other portrait. Perhaps the man would speak to him more about the family later on. He continued his perusal as he made his way to the chair in front of the Headmistress’s desk. As his eyes made their way to the two portraits above the desk, he froze. He could literally feel the blood draining from his face as his eyes widened and he took a step back. Tripping, he managed to bang his thigh into the arm of the chair he was supposed to sit in and missed the actual chair completely, falling on his tailbone. He scrambled into his seat, never taking his eyes off the two men.
“Good morning, Draco,” said the man with a long grey beard merrily. His spectacles were perched upon his nose and his blue eyes twinkled. His elbows were rested upon the desk he sat behind and his hands were lifted in front of him to form a sort of triangle.
The other man said nothing, just simply glared at the pale blond. Never before had Draco witnessed that look directed at himself from those deep, dark fathomless black eyes that seemed to stare straight into the soul. Draco swallowed the lump in his throat, ignoring the bruise he knew was forming.
“Oh for goodness sake, Mr. Malfoy. Calm down!” the Headmistress reprimanded sternly. “You act as though you’ve never seen a portrait before.”
Draco’s head snapped towards McGonagall, his eyes widened in fear. “I,” he started and stopped. He glanced back up at the portraits. “I…”
“I don’t blame you for what happened, Draco,” the portrait of Dumbledore stated kindly. “You had your faults as a child, but you were a terrific student. It was my idea and insistence that Professor Snape made you Head Boy.”
“But,” Draco argued, frowning. “I was responsible. I let those Death Eaters into this school. My mission was to kill you. I…”
“You did what you felt you had to do to protect your family,” Dumbledore interrupted, holding his hands up to silence the young Slytherin. “You did not kill me, nor would you have. Besides, my death would have come whether you had dealt the blow or not.”
“What do you mean?”
Snape’s portrait sighed. “He means he was already dying, you idiotic boy,” he snapped. “We knew Voldemort was going to send you on that suicide mission. The moment it was confirmed, Dumbledore began making plans to keep you as safe as possible. It was convenient that he was cursed weeks later, thus leading him on the path of imminent death. After that, the way was clear. Honestly, there was only one option for us. We couldn’t allow you to kill Dumbledore. I fought him on it, because I was hoping to find a potion or spell to reverse the curse, but he had other plans.”
Dumbledore’s smile was gentle and reassuring. “I was an old man. There were many hardships throughout my life and I was tired. The curse had fated me to spending the rest of my life in unspeakable pain. Professor Snape was kind enough to help me find that peace as quickly and painlessly as possible. You have nothing to fear, dear boy. Your soul is still pure, which had been my objective.”
“Still pure?!” Draco repeated, looking at the man incredulously. “I almost killed you! One of my best friends died in front of my eyes and I had to perform countless Unforgivables in that god-forsaken Dark Arts class! Not to mention all the other Dark spells I learned. Of course, I already knew most of them because, in case you’ve forgotten, I became a Death Eater!”
The former Headmaster nodded through Draco’s rant. “Life is full of choices, Draco. I do not know why your father felt it prudent to teach you such spells at such a young age, but when the Final Battle did come, you did not conjure them. Your heart is pure. In the end, you chose your family above all. You performed admirably in the face of danger.”
The Slytherin bowed his head, shaking it, as he closed his eyes. “There’s nothing admirable about running away with your tail between your legs,” he said.
“Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall said irritably, drawing his attention back to her. She glared at the two portraits. “The three of you can discuss Mr. Malfoy’s bravery after we’ve finished this meeting, if it’s that important.”
Draco frowned at her. “I wasn’t Sorted into Gryffindor…”
“You weren’t Sorted into Gryffindor because you are a Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy,” she snapped, clearly annoyed. “You don’t have to be in Gryffindor to be brave, either. Dumbledore is right. You did the best you could to protect your family. You did what Voldemort required of you to do when he required it. Is that not why Mr. Potter stood up for you in court? If it weren’t for you and your mother that war would have ended vastly different, so it’s time to focus your mind back to the present and stop living in the past.”
“So why am I here?” he asked, going back to their original topic.
McGonagall sighed as she picked up a parchment that had been lying on her desk. Draco recognized it as the letter he had written her. “Something you said in this last letter threw me off, Mr. Malfoy. Your words indicated you were possibly interested in a job here?”
Ah, yes! He remembered mentioning that. He had been pulling at straws, however. He was careful not to smile as he allowed his eyes to meet hers. “It was just a thought,” he explained with a shrug. “I get bored sitting in that Manor with only my mother for company. I figured it was worth a try.”
She looked at him and he wondered what she was thinking. Privately, he was still working on Legilimancy, and he still had quite a ways to go. Though the lessons had been hell, he was grateful for learning Occlumancy.
“Even if I did have a position open, Mr. Malfoy,” she told him carefully. “I’m not certain hiring you would be the best idea. Professor Dumbledore was correct in that you were a very talented student. Your scores rivalled Miss Hermione Granger’s, but the fact still remains that you were a Death Eater.”
“So was I, Minerva,” Snape pointed out. “You said it best. We shouldn’t live in the past. Mr. Malfoy is more than capable of teaching the students if that is truly his desire. If you have any objections, you could always forbid the Defense Against the Dark Arts position to him. However, if he wanted, he could teach Potions, Charms, or even Transfiguration. He is quite formidable in all those subjects and…”
“I don’t want to teach, really,” Draco said, glancing up at Snape. He looked at McGonagall hopefully. “As I said, it had only been a passing thought, little more. I am hoping to get a job in the Ministry, but it would be nice to know that if I couldn’t work there, then perhaps there may be a spot here for me?”
He could tell she was studying him. “Why would you want a job here at Hogwarts?” she asked, and he frowned at her surprisingly sarcastic tone.
He decided to ignore the tone as he shrugged, looking away. “I’m not sure. Like I said, it was a thought. My main desire is to work in the Ministry,” he said, letting his eyes meet hers again. “Don’t get me wrong, Headmistress. Hogwarts has its appeal, certainly. Just being here for the past… thirty minutes? Has brought up more childhood memories than I had imagined. Coming here to work would be much like coming home.”
McGonagall pressed her lips together in obvious thought. “Do you even need a job?”
Draco chuckled as he felt himself beginning to relax. Talking to Dumbledore and Snape had certainly lifted a lot of weight off his shoulders. The old codger had been sick anyway? Draco must have done him quite the favor. “You’re right,” he said. “I’ve donated millions to the Ministry and Hogwarts. Though I cannot claim to be the sole provider of the expenses, I did give more than my fair share, if you will. Not to mention the number of charities I donate to on a monthly basis. All of this and, honestly, any children I ever have are still set for life.” He gave her a rather bored look. “As I said, life in the Manor has become rather dull. My mother spends most of her time in the gardens, mourning the loss of my father. The only true entertainment I have is riding my broom and even that is slowly losing its charm.”
“You should find a hobby, Mr. Malfoy. St. Mungos is always in need of potions and all those charities you donate to… Have you ever thought about attending a charity event? Or maybe organizing one to help raise even more money? While your Galleons are more than welcomed, I’m sure, but throwing a fancy ball to bring in even more Galleons would be even more appreciated,” she suggested. She tilted her head a bit forward. “Your father used to throw money around, thinking it would solve all of his problems, but it seems like those problems just grew as he invested in the wrong concepts.”
He opened his mouth to argue and she held her hand up, silencing him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Malfoy. We don’t have any positions open at this moment, and even if we did, I’m not certain it would be a good fit for you. Not to mention, I still have my doubts given your past,” she said. She took a deep breath. “I would need proof that you are a changed man before I can feel safe placing you amongst other people’s children. You wouldn’t just be teaching Purebloods, and I won’t have a prejudice teacher on my staff. We get that enough with the Houses as it is.”
Another reason for him to marry Granger. If he did, no one would question whether or not he was still prejudice. “I understand, Professor. Perhaps you could keep me in mind, then? In the meantime, I think I will take your suggestions and start working with them. I hadn’t actually thought of doing any of those things before. I am used to just giving my money away, not really thinking about my personal time.”
He took out his pocket watch and gave it a glance. It was getting close to noon. Granger should be getting her flowers soon and he needed to be there for the delivery. He turned his attention back up to the Headmistress. “Forgive me, Professor,” he said as he placed the watch back into his pocket. “It seems time has managed to slip away from me.”
“Do you have another engagement?” she asked, lifting a single eyebrow.
He gave her a small smile. “I do, actually. I’m supposed to meet with someone in the Ministry shortly. With luck, I may have a job soon.”
“Very well. I thank you for your time, Mr. Malfoy,” she said as she stood up. He followed her. “I do wish you luck today. I know you will excel in whatever position you manage to gain. And if, at a later date, you’ve managed to prove yourself, you are welcomed to come here and try again.”
He nodded with a smile. As he walked off the grounds, several thoughts floated around his head. His first thought had been that his time at the school had been a waste, but then he thought over the ideas McGonagall had given him. His smirk widened. Yes. Without knowing it, she had given him even more ideas of how to win over Granger. He knew the Muggle-born was a sap for charities. He just needed to find out what other things she was passionate about besides elves.

Author Notes: So, what did you think? Let me know! I really wanted to show the guilt that Draco had and what better way than freaking out when he sees the portait of the very man he had been set to kill? I've no doubt he would still feel anguish at that.
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