Disclaimer: Nothing’s changed. JKR still owns HP!
Hermione returned from her lunch date feeling satiated. She’d indulged in her favorite curry noodle dish and then divulged most of her secret to Ginny. She hadn’t felt quite right confiding in Harry and Ron and not Ginny, after all. So now Ginny knew that Hermione was pretty much obsessed with a single father and his lovely daughter. Ginny had also asked her about how her work with Draco was going, clearly intimating that she suspected something was up between the two former enemies. Hermione had dodged Ginny’s insinuations, shrugging off her own confusion in the process.
It was one thing to confess to having feelings for an anonymous, good-looking wizard. It was quite another to name that person as the infamous Draco Malfoy.
She walked into her office. She had a busy line-up for the afternoon. Madame Marchbanks would be coming in soon for a follow-up with her charmed bicycle. Then she had to finish some contract work for the Spell Research group at the Ministry for Magic. She decided to have a cup of coffee before plowing into her work.
Walking into the little kitchenette, she noticed a strong scent of something very nice. There, on the counter, in front of the open window was a beautiful bouquet of flowers, many of them irises. She smiled as she leaned in to smell their heady fragrance. There was no note but she knew they were from Draco, or rather from her “friend-in-need.”
“This is really confusing,” she muttered aloud, taking out the coffee from the cabinets. If anyone else sent me flowers on such a regular basis, I’d assume that that person liked me. But those kinds of rules just don’t work with this relationship, she thought.
She tapped her wand on her percolator. Instantly, the aroma of coffee was competing with the perfume of the flowers. She got a mug and poured herself a cup of coffee. She picked up the bouquet and took it back to her desk.
“I hardly know this man,” she said aloud. But a small voice in her head quickly contradicted, That’s not true at all. You’ve been writing to him for five years now. And you’ve been watching him with Louisa for nearly as long.
She sighed, absently touching the petals of one of the fuller iris blooms. Here was a perfectly lovely bouquet of flowers on her desk from a man she cared for quite a bit. Yet this same man had refused her invitations twice now. He was also keeping a pretty large secret from her. No larger than the one I keep, she thought.
Suddenly she remembered that Draco had sent her a letter this morning. She fished it out of her briefcase. She was feeling a bit excited about it because Draco had sent it via his own eagle owl- without the usual charm to hide the true identity of the owl. Meaning he must have sent it as himself rather than ‘friend-in-need’, she thought.
Dearest Hermione,
Thank you so much for your concern.
Please let me assure you that my daughter is well protected. I, too, have heard rumors of Dark activity against magical children in Muggle London. Her home, the one you so graciously found for her, has some of the best protection charms on it that galleons can buy. Also, I told Dumbledore years ago of my child’s identity. He knows who she is and where she is, as well.
Again, my thanks for your intentions. You have been the most thoughtful and caring friend that I have ever had.
Most sincerely,
Your friend
She gasped at all the letter revealed “ both implicitly and explicitly. He hadn’t disguised his owl or his handwriting. He’d already told Dumbledore about his child and he’d said that he heard about the Dark plots against Muggle borns. And some of his wordings were definitely different- More intimate, she thought.
She reread the letter several more times. Is he reaching out to me? she wondered.
“This is ridiculous. If he wanted me to know, he’d tell me. He was just in a hurry to get here this morning.” She rolled up the letter and leaned over to open a small inconspicuous drawer at the bottom of her desk. Muttering a rather complicated unlocking charm, she carefully placed the letter on a deep stack of parchment. She’d kept every letter that he’d ever written to her.
She heard someone in the anteroom. Madame Marchbanks had arrived. It was time to get back to work.
Draco was walking to his usual apparition point behind the large tree. He’d had an enjoyable lunch with Louisa. She had wanted to go for another ride on his Firebolt. This time he’d let her steer a bit. He knew that it wouldn’t be long before she’d want to try to fly it by herself. The thought made him laugh and shudder at the same time. He was extremely proud of her courage for wanting to ride on the broomstick. He was also impressed when she carefully steered them, not once faltering despite the high altitudes and breezy winds. He enjoyed the stubborn look on her face as she’d insisted that they fly one more time before he left. But he shuddered to think of her flying without him- She’s just still too young, he thought.
“Any parent would agree with me,” he whispered. He found himself wondering what Hermione would think of the situation. Would she think that teaching Louisa to fly was such a good idea? He laughed aloud as he remembered one of their first days back at Hogwarts- their first day of flying lessons. She’d balked at flying. In fact, he couldn’t really remember ever having seen her on a broomstick other than the required low altitude hovering in Madame Hooch’s class.
This was not the first time that he’d wondered about how Hermione would react to something. Long ago, he gotten used to hearing her voice inside of his head- as if she was some sort of parenting consultant. Well, I guess she is, he thought. He hadn’t asked her about her job. But he suspected that she took on a variety of different kinds of consulting jobs. She’s been advising me since the beginning, he sighed.
His thoughts wondered back to Louisa’s last request. He’d need to give her an answer soon. Though he’d managed to convince her that he needed some time to think about it, he knew that she wouldn’t be mollified for long. He’d never really refused a direct request of hers before. And now she wanted something that might be difficult to give.
“Daddy,” she’d begun. “Daddy, I’d like to meet my benefactress.” He’d nearly choked on his pumpkin juice when she’d that. He didn’t answer right away.
“I’ve written to her already,” she continued, in a small voice. She had looked at him expectantly then, not wanting him to be upset.
He had looked into her gray eyes then, seeing curiosity and something else. She has her own demons, he mused.
“I see,” he said. “So you’ve been sending her owls, then?” he asked, bypassing her initial request. He found that he wasn’t terribly surprised with her admission. He was almost expecting that she would use her owl to reach out to the only other magical person that she was aware of.
“Yes,” she said. “I just wanted to thank her for the tickets to the puppet show at first. But then I wanted to say other things- to thank her for always helping us, Daddy. She does- she’s always there. I want to know her, too,” she finished, in a small but firm voice.
He sighed, looking at the resolute expression on her face.
“Louisa, I think I understand what you’re feeling. Please keep writing to her, if you like. I don’t think you know her name though. It’s Hermione Granger. I’ll write it down for you on some parchment before I leave. But Louisa, she doesn’t know our last name or my first name. And I don’t think she should know who we really are yet, either. Please trust me on this. And give me some time to think about you meeting her. I’ve told you before that the wizarding world isn’t the safest place for either of us. I need to make sure that it’s safe for you two to meet,” he said, looking into her face for comprehension. She nodded immediately.
“I understand, Daddy,” she’d said.
He had been leaning against the tree, lost in thought. He quickly stood back up and focused on his apartment. With a slight popping noise, he disappeared.
After hanging up his robes, he walked back towards his library. He’d thought of a plan for both Louisa and Hermione. Taking out two pieces of parchment, he quickly wrote them each a letter. He sent the letters with his eagle owl and then left for his afternoon appointments.