Draco,
My mother once promised me that she would never leave me. On the night she died I thought my heart would split in two. How could she not keep her promise? How could she be gone? The most precious promise that had ever been made was shattered. And then you came along. How could I trust you when someone nearer and dearer to me had already betrayed me? I couldn’t allow it to happen again.
I am sorry that I doubted you, sorry that I didn’t listen to you, more sorry than you can possibly imagine. Yesterday I was not yet strong enough to be broken again, but I think I’ve learned now that it can hurt just as much to try to be safe.
Whether you believe me, or not, I love you Draco Malfoy, but more importantly, I trust you. I don’t know how to prove this to you, so you must take it on faith as just as I must. I don’t want to be ‘of little faith’ anymore. And isn’t it written that even the mustard seed can blossom into the largest of plants? I want to try again.
Please,
Hermione
Merlin knew he wanted her back. He missed her lithe form curled up in his arms at night. He missed her terrible pot roasts and the profuse apologies which followed them. He even missed the waspish, passionate tone in her voice when she railed against every discrimination passed by wizard-kind. But he was terrified of watching her walk out his door again. He called himself the worst kind of coward, but he knew he could not bear to lose her again.
Grabbing a spare sheet of parchment he wrote Hermione with a few vicious slashes of his quill.
Hermione,
Please come back
Yes.
“Draco?”
Startled he jumped, the tip of his quill leaving a spidery ink blot on the bottom of the page. Elaine d’Aspery leaned against the doorframe absently twirling a strand of her short blond hair. She grinned knowingly as he quickly composed himself, the cool look on his face completely belying his earlier reaction.
“Still haven’t sent that letter yet?” she teased, reaching out to the corner of the parchment.
Quickly Draco nipped it from her, cramming both notes into the pocket of his trousers. “Are we ready to tackle the Short Snout?” he asked, deliberately ignoring her previous question.
“Yes,” Elaine sighed, rolling her eyes. “Moray and Donaghue are meeting us up front.”
Weaving between the clustered desks of the small office, Draco wound his way to a large storage closet. Glancing through the ordered shelves, he grabbed several coils of a bright green rope and looped it over his shoulder. “Are you taking this one or is Moray?”
Pulling a large black bag off another shelf, Elaine riffled through its contents professionally. “That’ll do,” she muttered to herself before continuing, “Moray thought I should handle this one since you may need his muscle on point.”
Draco nodded thoughtfully as they joined Moray and Donaghue by the door. “Who’s our fifth? Trevesant?”
Jack Donaghue reached out a large hand to the clipboard on the wall. “It says Adam Burkley, boss,” he rumbled in his thick Scots brogue.
“Yes, sir?” A lanky boy of perhaps twenty or twenty-two unfolded himself from a small wooden chair. His sandy hair hung around his ears like a shaggy mop while his blue eyes gleamed with earnestness and excitement. “I mean, that’s me, Burkley, sir. Are you Mister Malfoy, sir?”
As the boy stared anxiously up at Donaghue who was shaking his head while his eyes danced merrily with repressed mirth, Draco found himself rolling his eyes in disgust. Snatching the clipboard he stared at the assignments for a moment before bellowing, “John! Why have you given me the rookie?”
A rather harassed looking wizard popped his head up from his desk with a sheepish look. “It’s training, Draco. I know you’ve already done your share of it, but Samson’s been looking after him and now he’s in Bergen to help with that Ridgeback this week…” he trailed off pleadingly.
“Why can’t I have Trevesant?”
“He’s busy with Lansing’s team.”
“Hockman?”
“It’s her day off.”
“Feldspar?”
“Also with Lansing.”
Draco’s eyes flashed dangerously. “What is the point of being a team leader if I cannot have any control of the composition of my team?”
“Well, it’s…”
“Never mind,” Draco snapped, cutting him off. “Just tell me, is there anyone, anyone at all, anyone besides the rookie, who could possibly work as a point man for me?” He sighed in resignation as John shook his head.
“Adam should be fine,” John asserted. “Samson’s been working with him, he knows it’s not all fun and games. Besides,” he lowered his voice conspiratorially, “I know you won’t admit it, but you are a better teacher to all the trainees than most of the men here. Just give the kid a chance, ok?”
Draco paused, indecision gnawing at his gut. It was his call, he could postpone the whole operation until tomorrow with a single word. Every day lessened the dragon’s chances of recovery, yet he felt responsible for every one of their lives. They would support him either way. Sending a quick, sizing glance at the boy, Draco could feel his shoulders slumping in defeat. Behind him someone snickered.
Draco whirled around in time to see Moray, and Donaghue wiping all traces of amusement from their faces. Elaine, of course, smirked openly. “All right, rookie, you will do exactly as I say at all times. This is not some sort of picnic in the park, understood.”
“Yes, sir!”