Note: that Italics indicate flashbacks/memories :)
Memories of a Malfoy
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A soft trickle of water was heard through the open glass doors of the nursery in the Malfoy Manor. Hermione Malfoy, formally Granger, stood in front of the balcony, looking down into the backyard below, her eyes fixed on the Centaur in the center of a fountain, which sat dead center in the yard.
For it only being the middle of September, the weather was still fairly warm and even though there was a slight breeze, it was still warm and it felt nice against Hermione’s skin.
Sighing, she shut the doors slightly, leaving only a small crack to let fresh air in. She turned around and smiled at the room before her. To her left, near the wall sat two wooden cribs separated by a foot of nothing. On the other side of the room were two rocking chairs, a chest of drawers, a toy box and, in the middle of the room, sat an old fashioned Muggle rug, which matched the beige walls around the room.
Hermione folded her arms and walked up to the two cribs. She smiled down at her four month old twins, Pandora and Trenton. Both were identical, with curly blonde hair and brown eyes and had the same distinguished features which made them look exactly like their parents. Hermione reached down and pushed back the growing hair on Pandora’s head; she gave a small moan and her eyes fluttered open.
Hermione hushed her daughter and leaned over, picking her up in her arms. Pandora began crying gently in her mother’s arms and Hermione made sure Trenton was still sleeping before walking with her daughter to the rocking chair on the other side of the room. She sat down and summoned a blanket, draping it over her shoulder. Pandora’s tiny hands began waving in the air, pulling at Hermione’s shirt. Hermione chuckled quietly.
“Pandora, baby,” she cooed, “are you hungry?” She unbuttoned her shirt and latched Pandora onto her breast; her daughter began sucking happily.
Hermione smiled down at her daughter and then brought her gaze up to a shelf on the other side of the room, right above the cribs. A picture near the middle of the shelf caught Hermione’s eye. It was a picture of her and Draco (who was in the corner of the picture) that had been taken just days after the final battle. No one would have ever thought that Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger would ever become friends, let alone get married and have children, but it happened.
Hermione’s mind wandered to the particular event which led to Hermione and Draco to begin talking and working things out, and she suddenly had to smile. Even if what had to happen wasn’t all that great.
“Draco,” drawled the voice of Lucius Malfoy, “here’s your wand. Kill the Mudblood, and let Potter watch.” He indicated to the tied up figure in the shadows on the other side of the room. “The Dark Lord will be here soon, Draco.”
“Your Dark Lord’s dead,” Harry spat weakly from the corner. “I defeated him. You’re all on your own now.”
“Silence,” hissed Lucius Malfoy. “Do not tell such lies, young Potter.” He turned to his son who nodded and slowly accepted the wand. From where Hermione sat, also tied up and gagged, she swore she had seen him tremble.
“Do it now, Draco.”
The younger Malfoy turned around and faced the tied-up Hermione. He slowly raised his wand, but did nothing. He was staring at Hermione directly in the eye, and she noticed a flicker of fear in his own eye.
“Now, Draco!”
However, Draco did not act. Instead, he lowered his wand, much to Hermione’s surprise, and especially to Lucius’s.
“What are you doing, Draco?” snapped Lucius. “Kill the Mudblood now!”
“No.”
There was silence. “What did you say?”
“I said ‘no’, father,” Draco said quietly.
Hermione saw Lucius’s face go thin. She saw him withdraw his own wand and aim for his son, but was too late. Draco had flicked his wand and a flash of red appeared, and the next thing Hermione saw, was Lucius Malfoy lying on the floor unconscious. Hermione looked at Draco, whose hand was still raised and a look of surprise floated across her face. Draco suddenly seemed to hit reality when somewhere outside the dungeon they were in, voices were coming closer. He quickly walked over to Hermione, untied her and took the gag out of her mouth.
“Untie Potter and get out of here,” Draco said quietly, “quick before the other Death Eater discovers what has happened.”
However, Hermione was still in shock to move. Why was Draco Malfoy helping her out? “B-But why?” she stammered.
“Just go!” Draco whispered urgently. “If I make it out of here alive, I’ll explain it to you.” He looked apprehensively towards the door. The voices were coming closer. Hermione however still didn’t move. “Granger, you and Potter got to get out of here! Just trust me, it’s not a trap. But if you don’t leave now, we’ll al be in deep trouble.”
Hermione noticed the urgency in his voice; it was like she almost detected fear. Nodding, she stood up. “What about you?” she whispered.
“I will be fine!” Draco said. “Go, Granger, now!”
With the sudden movement of the door handle giggling, Hermione ran over to Harry who was in the corner, staring at Malfoy in surprise. She grabbed his wrist and turned around.
“Thank you.” She mouthed to Draco and by the time the door opened, both she and Harry were gone.
The twenty-four year old Hermione was brought back to reality at the sound of Pandora’s small sigh, which indicated that she had fallen asleep. Hermione gazed down at her beautiful daughter. How she had deserved two beautiful children, she did not know. The only thing that still shocked Hermione, even to this day was the fact that both Trenton and Pandora had blonde hair. Hermione had always pictured her children to have bushy red hair; she always expected she would have Ron Weasley’s children, but that was highly impossible due to the face that he was murdered in the Final Battle. She sighed.
A part of her would always love Ron. He was, after all, her first true love, but Hermione always wondered what would have happened if he hadn’t died. She highly doubted that she’d be married to a Malfoy, let alone have two children with him.
No, if Ron was still alive, Hermione decided, she would probably be married to him, not Draco.
But then she’d never have Pandora or Trenton. And one thing for sure was that Hermione did not regret having her two children, nor did she regret who their father was. Hermione loved all three of them, especially her children, and would never give them up.
She looked down at Pandora. Hermione could already detect how she was going to turn out; Hermione could already sense that Pandora would be almost exactly like her mother, and Trenton, Hermione knew would turn out like this father. However, not like Draco had been in school, but how he was now, with a touch of Hermione.
Not wanting to bring Pandora back to her crib, Hermione held onto her daughter. She stared at the shelf of pictures again and her eyes were drawn to the same picture. Hermione could remember the exact moment that that picture was taken.
Now she understood why Harry had always hated hospitals. Hermione did not like being cooped up in a private room, with no one to talk to, or no books to read. Heck, she couldn’t even leave her bed to look out of the window. The Healers had confined her to her bed and she wasn’t allowed to leave it, for any reason unless the Healers said she could. The curses she had received from Voldemort’s Death Eaters had really made a big impact on her. Her legs felt like noodles and she could barely walk. And the worst thing was that she couldn’t even go to Ron’s funeral that afternoon. She deserved to go, but she wasn’t allowed.
She sighed and fell back against her pillow. But wait, she thought, Harry wasn’t allowed to go to Ron’s funeral either. Hermione suddenly felt bitter. She and Harry were Ron’s best friends; it wasn’t fair that they couldn’t go. The least that could’ve been done was for the funeral date to be changed.
There was a knock at her door. Hermione looked up and was surprised to see a familiar blonde-haired Slytherin walk in. Draco Malfoy slowly walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. Hermione said nothing.
“Granger,” he said briskly, nodding. He indicated with his hands if he could come in even more. Hermione gulped and nodded, curiosity taking the better of her.
“Malfoy,” she said quietly. “What are you doing here?”
“I said,” he told her, “that if I ever got out of that dungeon alive, I would explain-”
“I don’t need an explanation, Malfoy,” Hermione whispered coldly. “All I need to know is that for some odd reason, you turned against your own name and helped a Mudblood like me, and your sworn enemy Harry.”
“My ways have changed, Granger,” Malfoy said, now twiddling his thumbs. “I no longer wish to follow my father’s footsteps.” Hermione stayed silent. “Just hear me out.” Hermione nodded slowly.
“I first realized that I wanted to change when I was up in that tower with Dumbledore and the rest of the Death Eaters. The Dark Lord’s plan was for me to kill him. But I couldn’t. For reasons, I still do not understand.” He pulled a locket out of his pocket. “A few months before that, my mother gave me this, to keep me safe. It holds a power which makes me virtually undetectable. And when I am wearing it in the presence of the Dark Lord, my ability to block my mind becomes even stronger.
“You see, Granger, from that moment on, I knew that if I wore this locket, I would be able to do things without being caught.” Malfoy put the locket back in his pocket. “So I started experimenting. I started living the life I wanted to live, without having to worry about the consequences, and as the time flew by, I realized that I did not want to be part of the Dark Lord’s antics.”
“What made you realize that?” asked Hermione quietly.
There was a moment of silence. “You.”
“Me?”
“Yes,” Malfoy said quietly. “For the next few months, I began watching you and Potter and Weasley from afar; I wasn’t out to hurt, but merely out of curiosity. I began to realize that you were all very dedicated into helping Potter defeat the Dark Lord.”
“Of course I wanted Voldemort dead,” Hermione snapped quietly. “He’s done too many wrong moves.”
“Yes,” Malfoy said, “and that was when I realized that I too wanted to be dedicated to something. I wanted to be the person I wanted to be. And that person …” He paused, “… was like you.”
There was another sudden knock at the door. Both Hermione and Malfoy turned
just as Healer Mallory walked in.
“Visiting hour is over, sir.” She walked back out of the room, leaving the door open slightly.
Malfoy nodded and stood up. “Gran “ Hermione,” he said, “Please believe me.” He walked over to her bed and handed her a Muggle Polaroid picture. “I took it when you were looking at the locket a few moments ago. Look at it; if you don’t believe me now, maybe that will change your mind.”
He left the room leaving a very confused Hermione behind, who was left to dwell on what had just happened.
And she had believed him, Hermione realized as she looked down at Pandora. Of course, it had taken time, and many secretive meetings with Draco, but eventually, she began to see him for who he really was. She began to realize that he was indeed in need of a change.
Standing up, Hermione placed Pandora back into her crib and stared down at Trenton. Hermione remembered that first year after Ron’s death “ it had been horrible. She was always crying and breaking down every time she was alone, or whenever she saw Harry. She remembered thinking that Fate was punishing her for something she did, something that she was unaware of.
But as time flew by, Hermione remembered all of the meetings she had had with Draco. She also remembered towards the one-year anniversary of the defeat of Voldemort, she began looking forward to her and Draco’s meetings. She didn’t know what it was, but being with Draco made her feel alive again. She began feeling like she be able to love someone again.
Hermione also remembered the shock that had come to her when Draco has asked her out on an official date and how she had accepted.
But as the years went on, Hermione kept surprising herself with her answers. To dating; to kissing; to marriage; to making love the first time with Draco; to having children. The list just kept going on. It hadn’t been until Draco had finally proposed when Hermione finally realized that she actually loved him, and that he wasn’t just a safe-zone.
No, she really loved him.
And then the first time they had made love … that night would be a night Hermione would never forget. She had been saving herself for the right man, who she initially thought would be Ron, but then Hermione realized that she could no longer dwell on the past, but only in the present.
And her present was with Draco. No one else.
Hermione leaned into the crib and gave Trenton a kiss on the forehead. Like Pandora, he was so small and so precious. She’d never know what she’d do without her children. She smiled and turned to the shelf of pictures again, smiling at the one of her on her wedding day.
“Harry, why can’t you just accept that I’m marrying Draco?” Hermione screamed at him, wiping her eyes in hopes of not smudging her make-up.
“Because he’s a Malfoy,” Harry shot right back. “Why can’t you see that?”
“See what!?”
“See that he’s dangerous, Hermione,” Harry said in a pleading voice. “Hermione, he’s bad, what if he hurts you?”
“Draco would never hurt me,” she whispered.
“How do you know?”
Hermione shrugged and took a step forward towards Harry. “Because I just do, Harry. I have been living with him for two years, Harry. If he wanted to hurt me, he would have done so by now.”
“Hermione-”
“No, Harry,” she said, now crying, “listen to me. You don’t know Draco the way I do. He’s had his rough spots, but he’s changed. Harry, unlike you, I believe in second chances and there’s not anything you, Ginny, or anyone else can say to change that. Harry, I’ve got to move on. My heart will always love Ron, but … he’s dead. How can I love someone who isn’t alive?” She paused. “If there’s one thing Ron would’ve wanted, it would be for me to be happy. I know that!”
Harry looked at her. “Then you didn’t know Ron very well, Hermione, He would never approve of you and Malfoy together.”
“Draco, Harry,” Hermione said icily, “use his name.”
She turned around on her heel, her white gown billowing behind her. She turned back around rather quickly.
“You know what I can’t get?” she asked, her voice starting to rise. “Is that fact as to why you waited until ten minutes until I was due to walk down the isle, to tell me how you really feel? Why was it when I told you of our engagement like last year, you said nothing!? But now! Now, you spill you guts. This isn’t fair to me, Harry. Everyone deserves a chance of peace and happiness. Including Draco and I. Why can’t anyone see that?” She began to walk towards the door.
“And whether or not,” she began, “how you feel about this wedding, I am going through with it. And whether or not you’re here to walk me down the isle … I “ don’t “ care! Harry, you’re the only family I got besides the Weasley’s; and without you, I got nothing. I was counting on you to support me and this wedding, because I know the Weasley’s sure as hell don’t like it, no matter how well they cover up. But you know what? I don’t care.”
Harry stayed silent. Hermione turned around and took the last few steps towards the door. But as she went to turn the handle, she felt Harry grasp her wrist. She slowly turned around.
“Hermione, wait-” Harry hesitated. “Wedding’s are supposed to be traditional … a-and the bride is supposed to be walking down the isle … by a male family member.” Hermione’s face lit up. “I-I’ll gladly walk you down the isle, Hermione.”
Hermione screamed in excitement and threw her arms around Harry’s neck. “Oh Harry, thank you, thank you.”
“J-Just as long as you’re happy,” he said slowly. There was a knock at the door. Ginny’s head appeared through the crack.
“They’re ready, Hermione.”
The bride turned to Harry and kissed him on the cheek. “Once again, Harry … thank you.”
He nodded and held out his arm. “You ready?”
Hermione smiled through her tears. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” she laughed quietly.
Every time that the present Hermione was in the nursery, surrounded by everything in this room, it was like she was always stepping into a pensive of memories. She was always having flashbacks of how she and Draco had gotten together. She always had memories of herself delivering Pandora and Trenton in this very room. It was almost like an epiphany. A sign from above that she had done the right thing. It made sense. If she had made the wrong decision in marrying Draco, wouldn’t it be more realistic to just wipe her memory blank of everything? Then that way, she’d be able to start fresh and new.
But no. Hermione felt that it was a sign that she had done the right choice. She felt she had. She knew that after Ron had died, eventually, she’d be able to love someone again, but she never counted on it happening so soon, and she never counted on herself falling in love with Draco. If someone would have told her five years ago that she was going to marry Draco Malfoy and have twins with him, she would have called them a Trelawney clone, and that they were sticking their noise into their teacups too often.
But, Hermione decided, she loved her life. She loved having two beautiful children to look after, with a husband who loved her just as much as their children. If she had the opportunity to turn back time, and block the spell that had hit Ron, as much as she would have loved to have him alive, she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t want to give up the opportunity to have the life she had now. She loved her two children, Trenton and Pandora, and she loved their father, Draco. As much as Hermione would have loved for Ron to be alive, either as just a friend, or as a lover, she knew that in order for Hermione to be living the life she had now, the events that had happened in the past, including Ron’s death, had to happen.
She heard the door to the nursery open behind her, and Hermione turned around, smiling at the person walking in. Very tired from that days work, Draco entered and walked straight to Hermione, giving her a peck on the cheek, and rubbing Trenton’s head of growing hair.
“Still sleeping?” he asked lightly. Hermione nodded. She gazed down at both Trenton and Pandora.
“Been sleeping like this all day,” she whispered. “It’s a bit too peaceful.”
Draco chuckled. “Well, I think they need to be woken up.” He went to reach down to pick up his son, despite Hermione’s pleas.
“Draco, no,” she whispered, “they’ll be very cranky.”
“They’ll get over it,” he chuckled. Picking Trenton up in his arms, Draco smiled at Hermione. Trenton’s eyes were still closed, and his feint snores were still heard.
“See, no harm done.”
Smiling too, Hermione reached down and gathered Pandora in her arms, who like her brother, kept sleeping. Hermione kissed her daughter lightly on the head and then looked up, smiling at her husband.
“You always seem to know our children, don’t you?” she teased quietly.
Draco nodded. “Always do, always will.”
Chuckling slightly, Hermione smiled back down at Pandora. The joys of life were so beautiful, and yet so complicated. Sometimes, in order to end up happy, you had to endure the ups and downs of life, like both Draco and Hermione had. But, in order to learn to live and love again, you had to put what had happened in the past behind you. Because if you dwelt too much in the past, you’d never learn how to live in the present. And that, Hermione concluded, was something she definitely learned how to overcome, and it sure felt nice.
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