The Right by Parks and Fiction Chapter 26 Hermione once again,
yes. Hermione cut off Draco before he
could pout further. We know you don't like the plan.
She leaned over and pulled his watch out of his pocket.
Your far superior plan was due 10 minutes ago.
What do you have? Absolutely nothing.
They both knew it. He could put up with this for
two hours for Pansy's sake. Draco glared across the table at
the small cafe at Ron and Harry. Both of them wore matching shite
eating grins. They're enjoying this far too
much. She grinned.
Of course they are, she said. We all are, and your pouting is
only adding to said enjoyment. For all he'd grown and changed,
he was still the spoiled rotten only child who sulked any time
someone so much as looked at something he wanted.
It was the ever so slight implication of possession that
really raised her hackles and made her all the more smug about
her plan, which was nothing short of pure genius if she did
say so herself. You forget after a while.
Ron said with a fond look. How much fun it is to break the
rules. Harry shot her a smirk.
I get so sick of my speech about how you're focusing on noble
causes and revolutionising the world from within rather than
becoming an aura with us. Instead of just saying point
blank that you would have lost your badge after your first
mission. She rolled her eyes at him.
She only manipulated the rules when she had good reason.
To be fair, that probably would have made her a rather terrible
aura just in case she acted on incorrect information.
How do you manage without Hermione Granger keeping you
both in line? Ron asked in a pitchy falsetto.
Mate, she's the reason we were in trouble.
Most of the time she just got away with blaming me.
Harry muttered. She grinned.
She never exactly blamed him per SE, but if an adult assumed
Harry was responsible and he wasn't in too much trouble, she
allowed assumptions to stand. I didn't hear you complaining
when I kept you alive or when you won your Order of Merlin.
It was easy to fall into laughter and easy banter and let
the plan drift to the back of her mind.
The more natural they all were, the better.
Draco sulking wasn't out of character for someone who'd been
planning a private lunch with her until they ran into her
friends. Neville, however, was a nervous
wreck. He kept shuffling his papers
around, making more noise than necessary.
What's that? Draco asked, apparently taking
pity on him. At least he was committed to the
plan now. He held up the drawing. 1 pin
will or seeds. Draco took the parchment from
him. Fascinating, he said.
They look familiar. Their appearance is rather
similar to that over weeping Willow, Noticeably how the
epidermis is covered in long strings.
He started to relax as he fell into a apology lecture.
These will actually move in Whomping Willow seeds.
The short germination period of willows makes seeing a live 1
rather rare. He frowned.
Can they survive in stasis? It would be a challenging bit of
magic, but if they're kept in a moist environment with the
correct level of spells, it's possible.
Draco turned the drawing upside down.
Would they be expensive? I can't even begin to imagine
how much these would go for on the black market.
Draco passed the papers back to him.
That explains it. Neville shuffled the papers
again. If there'd been an order to them
before, there wasn't now. Explains what?
Why the Malfoy vaults have a dozen of them in gringots.
You have a dozen Whomping Willow seeds kept in stasis in
Gringotts. She winced as the noise in the
restaurant faded at his outburst.
Never was supposed to be loud, but not quite that loud.
Cheeks red, never leaned forward, his voice actually at a
normal volume in the quiet restaurant, however, it could be
heard across the table. Do you have any idea how rare
those are? He demanded.
They're a Class A non tradable good for a reason, Draco.
Harry sat forward. Did you just say Class A non
tradable good? Ron groaned.
No, He dropped his head on the table and started banging his
head. It's supposed to be our day off,
we could just report it and have who's ever on duty take care of
it. Harry muttered.
Ron perked up but then his face immediately fell.
It's Cresswell, who had been banned from working on any cases
involving family members of Death Eaters.
Fuck. Harry breathed.
Fine, we'll just handle it, Harry.
Ron moaned. Harry ignored him and turned to
Neville. What do we look for?
He shuffled the papers, pulling out the diagram once more, and
Mindy glanced over just to make sure he'd actually pulled out
the correct diagram in his nervousness.
If the seeds are in stasis, they're going to be almost
indistinguishable from regular Willow seeds.
But if you examine the dermis closely.
What's the dermis? Harry asked.
He gaped at him. You took Newt's level Herbology,
Harry, this is second year stuff.
Well. Harry cast a side eyed look at
Hermione. This is how it was missed during
the first sweep of the vaults. Neville asked.
Honestly, your department needs more Herbology training and
there are plenty of classier non tradable goods that aren't just
magical creature parts. She tried not to laugh.
That last bit clearly wasn't acting.
Harry gave him a humorless smile.
Well guess what? He asked.
You just got yourself named the official Herbology advisor for
the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
What? His voice was almost a squeak.
If we bring him in, I bet we can get in and out in under an hour.
Harry muttered to run. Bring me were?
Neville asked. Wait here.
Harry rose. We'll be back with the approval
and the warrant. Ron followed him out of the
cafe, and they both disapparated with a crack.
The rest of the patrons stared at their table, some more
obviously than others. Draco turned to Hermione.
Oh, look, it's Harry and Ron and Neville.
He spoke in a high, exaggerated voice that sounded nothing like
hers. Let's just dip in and say hi
real quick. She narrowed her eyes at him,
his terrible imitation of her voice was definitely something
they'd talk about later. Oh, thanks Harry.
He continued in the same voice. We'd love to join you for lunch.
She rolled her eyes, his irritation with the plan was
bleeding through. I'm not the one who loudly
announced to two auras that my family has Class A non tradable
goods in their Gringot's vaults. They're not my family.
He said, voice soft. She reached over and squeezed
his hand. Still, there was no doubt, no
hesitancy in his voice, just a fond determination in his gaze.
He'd made his choice and was proud of it.
Neville cleared his throat again, and she and Draco turned
to him, having forgotten he was there for a moment.
What did Harry mean about me being an advisor?
He asked. Am I going with them?
Draco sent him a patronising look.
You should go through your wife's faults sometime, he said.
Just wait for a day when Potter and Weasel aren't going.
He pushed at least half of his sandwich into his mouth, looking
more than a little horrified at the thought.
Draco, Potter, and Weasel returned within half an hour
with all the necessary paperwork.
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask Potter how his mother
was, but Draco swallowed it down.
She knew exactly what was in every one of Gringot's waltz.
Did she have any idea what they were up to today?
Weasel headed towards the loo. Drigger waited a minute longer
while Potter started explaining protocol to a pale Longbottom
who'd already got in his lecture several times over.
Excuse me? He rose from his seat and walked
across the small space to the loo, casting a quick confundus
on the door so that any other patrons would be temporarily
confused and unable to find it. Luckily, the loo had two stalls.
He and Weasel both took one and began undressing, passing their
robes over the wall. Fucking Merlin, were these
sackcloths? This is disgusting.
Draco muttered. It was bad enough that he needed
to wear the clothes Weasel had been in all day, but this was an
insult to injury. How many bloody layers are you
wearing? Weasel demanded.
You were supposed to be keeping it simple.
How can you be married to someone with such good fashion
sense and have none of it for yourself?
Draco began. I'm going to tell Padme you said
that. He finally stepped.
Out of the. Stall.
The loose robes uncomfortably hanging off his body.
I have no fault with your wife knowing I think she has good
taste in some areas. Weasel made a show of tugging on
his shirt and pulling down the sleeves with a smirk.
Forget how short you are, mate. It was 3 inches.
Don't call me mate. He snapped.
Vials are in your pocket. As he reached for them, Dricco
ripped out a few strands of Weasel's hair.
Ouch. Weasel rubbed his head.
He reached out to retaliate, but Draco already had several
strands of white blonde hair at the ready.
So I'm supposed to trust you, but you're not going to trust
me? We have a cat with the exact
same shade of hair. Draco said.
I would prefer Hermione be the only one who experiments with
human feline transformation. Ron snorted.
Still can't believe you were all dumb enough to think that wasn't
me. Draco drawled.
A simple family genealogy would have revealed that his family
hadn't even crossed the channel yet at the time Hogwarts was
built, so he couldn't be a direct male descendant of
Salah's R Slytherin. Since your father was the one
who slipped an innocent 11 year old girl a horcrux, your family
was more than a little bit involved.
Draco smirked and clinked vials. Cheers, Weasley.
The changing process wasn't quite painful, but it was
exceedingly uncomfortable. Finally, his body settled into
the new frame. He fucking hated that Weasel was
taller than him, which was even more noticeable from this
height. Weasel walked over to the mirror
to investigate wearing Draco's face.
Blimey, he said, this is weird. Every time Draco avoided the
mirror, it wasn't as if there was anything to correct about
his appearance. Looking anything close to put
together would be an immediate red flag that he wasn't the
Weasel. It'll last two hours, he said,
and we should get going. You're sure the fool too?
I'm a Potions master, not a 13 year old student brewing it in a
girl's laboratory, He said. You're lucky that one lasted
more than 10 minutes. His lips twitched.
I think Almione wished hers had been over a little bit quicker.
Merlin, he wished he'd have seen that.
Come on. Weasel adopted a posh stance and
began to strut. Relax.
You git, he said. I don't look like that, Weasel
poked him in the side. Speaking of relaxing, I've never
looked like that in my life. Trying not to roll his eyes, he
hunched his shoulders and stomped out into the restaurant.
Hermione was the first to spot them.
As soon as she did, she immediately clapped her hand
over her mouth. Potter looked like he was trying
just as hard to hold back laughter.
The lack of support from Potter was expected, but he couldn't
help but feel betrayed by Hermione's enjoyment over his
suffering. Weasel sauntered over and sat
next to Hermione, throwing his arm around her shoulder.
A dozen hexes were on the tip of his tongue.
Hermione moved Weasel's hand off her shoulder.
Draco, darling, you know how I feel about public displays.
Save it for later. Then he shot a cocky grin at
Draco. He took a step forward, but
Hermione cut him off. Ron.
She said in a warning tone. Draco's just trying to irritate
you, don't let him get to you. He knew it, but seeing Weasel of
all people in his bloody body next to his fiancee, Potter
slapped him on the back with an easy grin.
Ready. He trusted Hermione, even the
Weasel to some extent. The fact that he was in love
with his wife, at least, and that he would never do anything
to hurt Hermione, no matter what.
Draco owed Pansy so even if he wanted to break every bone in
Weasel's body that had ever touched Hermione.
He forced a grin to his face. Yup.
He said in his best imitation of Weasel's tacklessness.
Hermione couldn't even make eye contact with him.
She looked seconds away from collapsing into laughter.
At least one of them found this funny.
Longbottom looked like he was terrified Auras were about to
burst in and arrest them all at any minute.
Let's get this over with. Gringotts was busy for a
Saturday, but Potter marched right up to the front of the
line. No one seemed to mind getting
cut as soon as they realised who it was.
It took Draco a minute to realise why he felt so odd.
People were smiling at him. A woman actually winked and
tried to hand him a piece of parchment with an address on it.
Fucking Weasel, He was married, did he have no shame?
Potter handed a stack of paperwork over to the goblin.
Afternoon, Ogbert. The goblin looked down at him
through narrowed eyes. Mr. Potter, Official aura
investigation. He said we have all necessary
paperwork and we'll need an escort and the thieves waterfall
deactivated for us. Ogbert's glare narrowed.
You'd know all about that, wouldn't you, Mr. Potter?
Apparently none of the goblins were over Potter's breaking.
Potter ignored the Barb. You'll see our paperwork is all
in order. After the war, the Department of
Magical Law Enforcement and the goblins at Gringotts had come to
an agreement on the Auras investigating bank vaults.
If a strict series of conditions were met, including permission
from the owner, auras were allowed into the vaults.
Granting permission to the Malfoy vaults was a condition of
his entire family's probation. He told Potter to ask for his
mother. His father would have stomped
his feet and made a big show and brought all the solicitors, but
his mother knew exactly what was in every vault and would have
realised that this was something more than a mere aura
investigation. The short time it took Potter
and Weasel to return to the Cafe meant they met no resistance
from her. Maybe she was starting to change
her mind. It was a fool's hope.
His father was a lost cause he'd written off years ago, but his
mother? There were glimpses of a changed
opinion. If she had enough of a push.
Odbert finished examining the paperwork.
This way, Mr. Potter. Draco shook his head.
He needed to focus, they had a limited amount of time to find
exactly what they needed and get out.
The ride deep into the base of Gringotts to the oldest and
largest vaults was familiar. He had no idea where the
Longbottom family vault was located, but doubted Longbottom
had been down this deep before. Potter had at least once when he
robbed the strange vault. He still couldn't believe the
fucking audacity of those three. As they approached a tall
waterfall, the tension in the cart was nearly palpable, but
the goblin guiding them waved his hand and the water cut off
as they rode underneath it. He breathed a sigh of relief.
Safe for now. They finally came to a stop near
the very bottom of the vaults. The goblin opened the vault for
them, and Potter led the way. All right, Neville, he said.
Ron and I will sort through, and you'll let us know what you.
He broke off as the door swung shut behind them.
Draco marched over to the long row of books along the wall.
Only those with Malfoy blood can touch these.
Polyjuice might change his appearance, but not his blood.
It was the crux of Hermione's plan, even if he hated the
necessity of having Weasel swap places so he had an alibi.
You're sure your parents haven't?
Potter broke off as if his discernment was something he
regretted or was ashamed of, when in fact it was the proudest
moment of his life. He didn't hesitate as he started
scanning the shelf. My father doesn't have a wand
and my mother is still hoping I come to my senses, he said.
We're fine, Potter. What are you looking for,
Longbottom? He read off the first time a
Parkinson woman married into the Malfoy family.
There were centuries of family history to sort through.
His instruction to the family histories had been interrupted
with his father's failures after the Department of Mystery's
battle. Still, he knew enough to get by.
Potter started poking around the rest of the treasure in the
vault. Longbottom didn't move from the
entrance, gripping his list of Malfoy Parkinson unions as Draco
poured over the ancient texts. Longbottom.
Burning a hole in the back of my skull won't make me work faster.
He drawled, not looking up from the books.
Anything yet. The answers to all his lingering
questions, but nothing that answered Longbottoms.
Still, neither one of them wanted Potter to find out what
they were doing down there. Just that my ancestors
positively abhorred the Parkinson family and why
Longbottom would know what that meant.
You were right, it's forbidden for any woman of my family to
marry into theirs. After reading what they did to
their wives and daughters, he understood why.
And he'd thought the Black and the Strange families were fucked
up. Which to be fair, they were, but
still. Doing that to your daughter?
He amended his ultimatum to Hermione.
If they had a daughter, she wasn't allowed to marry any pure
blood, blood traitor or no. Potter looked up from whatever
he was holding. What?
He asked. Why?
I thought your families loved each other.
That falls under Longbottom's strict need to know clause of
this adventure. A sentiment he knew ultimately
came out of protecting Pansy. And that he echoed.
Fuck. He heard whispers of Matthias
Parkinson's plan, known what he wanted to do to Ginny Weasley,
but he hadn't ever thought it was something he'd have done to
his own daughter as well, apparently as an infant.
Fucking bastard. From everything he could read,
something had to have changed since the last Malfoy Parkinson
Union. According to his family's
history, failure to complete the right only resulted in
disownment. For Pansy, that only amounted to
losing her family's fortune. It would be unfortunate, but not
a cause for the level of distress he'd seen in
Longbottom. Matthias must have come up with
some extra piece of fucked up bullshit, and Pansy was still
paying the price for it even after his death.
From the moment he'd seen Longbottom's ring, he'd known
there was something more going on, but he'd fallen for Pansy's
distraction. He wanted to ring Pansy's neck
for not coming to him first. Had she doubted the depths of
his friendship? Did she not realise how far he
would go for her, especially after what she'd done for him?
Fuck, how was he ever supposed to talk to her about that?
To make it up to her? He'd known her ever since they
were in nappies. Confronting her about what
Longbottom had revealed, doubtless against her wishes,
would only drive her away, or put a wedge between her and
Longbottom when she still needed him for something.
Fucking war. Spending their teenage years
hiding, lying, pretending had fucked them all up, made them
all believe they couldn't trust anyone, that they needed to
handle it themselves. Pansy most of all.
He'd known more was going on the night of the battle.
Every fucking time he asked her about it, she told him she'd
done it for the reward. If Longbottom knew about who had
claimed Hermione as a war prize and for what purpose, Pansy did
too. Pansy, who also knew how far his
family had sunk in the Dark Lord's favour and how far he
would have gone to try to save Hermione, that would have
resulted in both of their deaths.
The reward she wanted was Hermione to save her for his
sake, maybe even to help save the Wheezelette as well.
For all she tried to hide it, Pansy was as much of A bleeding
heart as any Hufflepuff. Have you found the Ripes?
Longbottom asked. He walked over to the shelf,
shoving thoughts of what Pansy had done for him aside.
He needed to focus so he could attempt to return the fucking
favour. He'd find a way to address it
with her once whatever was going on with Longbottom was settled.
The last thing he wanted was to complicate an already tenuous
situation. It's a lot to decode.
I was only taught this in theory.
I don't have practical experience.
He was close enough, though. Potter pulled out his pocket
watch. We have an hour left.
He pulled down a tome and flipped the pages.
Apparently, this is one option. He glanced over at Potter, who
was still busy examining the treasure.
He directed Longbottom's attention to the correct page
and then consulted the first book again.
He walked back and pulled down the next book.
After flipping through, he found the right page and indicated
where the right began. Option #2 He could tell by the
hopeful look on Longbottom's face that the first option
wasn't right. There's at least one more.
That one took the longest to find.
There was a touch of desperation as Longbottom read over the
third passage. Draco watched as a fragile hope
blossomed into true relief. This is it.
Potter started to walk over, but Draco shot him a look.
He held up his hands and turned back to the treasure, but Draco
didn't ignore the fact that the other wizard was inching closer.
Draco scanned the right, but whatever foolish hope was on
Longbottom's face was obviously misplaced.
This won't work. Even your ancestors agreed with
me. He said.
The next two Malfoy Parkinson unions use this version as well.
He pointed to the conditions. Well, apparently their wives
were virgins. Longbottom glared at him.
Are you going to duplicate the page or do I need to write it
down? Hadn't he outgrown his naivete
by now? I'm not risking this twice.
He snapped. This right will not work unless
the woman is a virgin. Longbottom conjured a quill and
parchment and began copying it down.
Mervyn, was he serious? Longbottom, I'm not sure what
pansies LED you to believe, but just because she hasn't fucked
you, Longbottom was red with anger.
Like she slept with you. A fifth year rumour both of them
had encouraged for their own reasons.
Up until he'd said something. Even Theo, Blaze and Daphne had
believed it. Pansy had laughed it off,
telling them all about the Italian she'd actually lost her
virginity to not long after the trial.
Longbottom's fury hadn't abated in the slightest.
I made it very clear, no comments or judgements about my
wife. He snapped.
If I say this will work, I know it will work.
Pansy had dated a handful of men since school had been open about
her exploits in the craft's way of hers, and yet she'd said the
same things about him and more 6th and 7th year bragging to the
other girls about him. At the time, he'd just assumed
she was protecting him, but maybe she was protecting them
both. The family records had listed a
version of the Parkinson Wright, but it had changed over the
years if a virginity requirement had been added.
Bansi's a virgin. The clutter behind them made
Longbottom round on Potter. In case I haven't already said
it enough, keep your fucking mouth shut about anything said
down here. Potter held up his hands, but
the look of shock on his face didn't change.
I'm not going to tell anyone. Longbottom scoffed.
Just like you didn't tell anyone about the bloodlock on my night
stand. He turned red.
I didn't Jinny accidentally. Then I guess you learned your
lesson about sharing things with Jinny.
He snapped. Not another word about Pansy to
anyone, especially her. Understood.
Potter nodded. Draco cocked his head, examining
Longbottom. He had no idea what they were
talking about, nor did he care if Pansy had been lying from the
beginning about their relationship.
As he'd always expected, she certainly laid it on thick.
A small chuckle escaped before he could stop it.
Longbottom rounded on him, murder in his eyes.
Drago held up his hands. Relax, Longbottom, he said.
I'm not laughing at Pansy. His eyes narrowed, he picked
some lint off the shoulder of Weasley's robes.
Honestly, how had Padner let him out of the house dressed like
this? Odd thing to ask for, I suppose,
but I've been wondering what you got out of this and why Pansy
has been spreading those grass rumours about you.
It wasn't his style, but if that's what Longbottom needed to
feel like a real man. The man in question smiled
through the rage in his eyes. If you truly think the only way
to please a woman is by repeatedly sticking your cock
into her, I feel worse for Hermione than I did when I'd
just had Pansy's word to go off. A small sort of part wheeze,
part choke, part laugh erupted from Potter.
He coughed, as if trying to cover it up.
Sorry, he said. Bit Dusty back here.
Draco's hand found his wand. How dare expelling harness?
Longbutton glared at Potter as he caught both of their wands.
You use that spell too often. Potter ignored him and shot a
pointed look at Draco. Are you going to copy the page
for Neville now? Storming over to Potter, he
snatched his wand back. Second fucking time that bloody
git had stolen it and marched back to the book with the pass
of his wand. A second page appeared over it,
complete with all of the notes written in the margins by the
Creator and the two descendants of his who had used it as well.
Longbottom read them both over, comparing them carefully.
Draco saw something he hadn't noticed the first time.
Having immediately dismissed this right because of the
virginity clause, he still couldn't believe Pansy was still
a virgin, especially after she'd gone so far out of her way to
pretend differently. He shook his head.
Her business was her business. He pointed to the line.
Did you see? This one.
Longbottom knocked his hand to the side and folded up the
paper. Yes, Dracore, I know how to
read. He stared at him for a few
minutes, breaking down everything he knew.
The mysterious guardian who'd been at her wedding.
The fact that Longbottom was a pure blooded Sacred 28.
Pansy needed a mysterious right completed in order to correct
something her father forced on her worse than mere disownment.
And yet, if what Longbottom had just admitted was true.
Longbottom. He began.
The thing you have to understand about Pansy, you don't need to
tell me anything about my wife. He snapped.
He nodded to Potter. Let's gore, Hermione.
Completely ignoring the tea service in front of her.
Hermione stared across the street at the marble steps of
Gringotts. Her hand reached over and
squeezed her knee before she even realised she was shaking
it. Sorry.
She did a double take at the look of that smile, Ron's smile
on Draco's face. She groaned and dropped her head
into her hands. Merlin, this is weird.
He chuckled. I think I have it the easiest.
He ate another petty 4. All I have to do is sit here and
avoid a mirror. She glanced around, but now it
was just her and Draco. No one was really paying
attention anymore, a complete contrast from the first few
months that they were dating. If Ron was actually in his own
body, she'd probably get a lot more attention.
Not to mention several articles in the paper for the next weeks
about Ron's impending divorce and the two of them getting back
together. She sighed.
Everything was easier before she'd become one of the most
famous witches in Britain. She didn't even get half as
upset as Ron did about the ridiculous rumours, but she
wasn't quite to the place Harry and Ginny were with their
ability to joke about them. Draco, of course, hated any
mention of her romantically linked with another person,
particularly one of her exes, but she'd come to rather than
enjoy his way of dealing with said jealousy.
Ron reached over and squeezed her hand.
He's going to be OK as long as they didn't get caught.
Even if they did, she, Harry, Ron, and Neville would probably
be fine. Draco, however, was another
matter. Now that they were in the bank,
there was nothing she could do to ensure he'd stay out of any
trouble. It's hard, she admitted.
Being out here while they're in there planning.
The second Gringot's break in had been just like old times,
but not being with Harry on the adventure was more difficult
than she'd anticipated. Yeah, Ron said softly.
She knew he'd been thinking about retirement for a while
now. With Angelina expecting and
George wanting more time off from the shop, it was her turn
to squeeze his hand. You know he's going to support
whatever you decide. He smiled.
I know, he said, but that doesn't mean it's easy to leave
him alone. Part of her was nervous about
it, too. It had been easier.
To let them go their own way, knowing they were together.
But if Ron retired, Harry wouldn't have him any more
either. Even on missions, anytime he
breaks off. It makes me think.
Ron trailed off, but she knew what he was going to say of the
time when Harry had left to go bring Snape's memories to the
pensive in Dumbledore's office. They'd been waiting in the Great
Hall for him to return when Voldemort marched on the castle,
announcing his death. Seeing her friend so tiny in
Hadgrid's arms, she still dreamed about it sometimes.
About what would have happened if he hadn't been pretending.
Ron squeezed her hand again. He's not the dumb kid he used to
be, he said. So that helps.
Neither are you. He grinned.
She glanced back at the large marble building across the
street. They had just under an hour
left, unless they'd already been caught or the answer wasn't
there. If whatever Pansy needed wasn't
in the Malfoy vaults, she hoped Neville and Draco would finally
tell her what was going on enough to help.
Draco hadn't explained a word to her after their tea, but if
today didn't solve anything, she would get to the bottom of it
and make sure Pansy had whatever she needed.
Ron lifted his teacup. I thought for the longest time
that you would just being nice to her for Dre, my sake.
He said, recovering quickly. That's not true, is it?
She frowned. They hadn't told him any details
about the day, only that Neville kneaded into Draco's family
vaults and he needed to apologise himself into Draco.
The corner of his mouth rose in 1/2 smirk.
Doesn't take the brightest switch of the age to figure out
the link. He was being careful not to use
names. I've told you many times, she
said. She's one of my closest friends.
I'd do anything for her, clearly, he said.
But why? After everything she did to you,
to us, you're not the same person you were in school, she
said. And I'm starting to think that
there was more going on then than even I know.
Neville and Draco had both hinted a search.
Draco refused to talk to her, saying he only had suspicions,
but he'd woken up in a cold sweat almost every night for two
weeks after that tea. Pansy was the only one who could
answer her questions. Whether or not she would, it was
another matter. Draco had told her not to bring
anything up with Pansy until everything with Neville was
settled. He'd known Pansy longer than
her, so she was going to trust him, Especially since Neville
implied it was life and death, but knowing something was going
on and not being able to find out was making her itchy.
Harry said the same thing. She glanced at Ron.
That there was more going on than what we know.
He sighed. He thinks we've misjudged her
and that we need to give her a chance.
Her eyebrows shot up. Oh, so since Harry Potter said
it, you suddenly believe it? His face fell.
No, he said. It's not like that.
Can you blame me for feeling that way?
He opened his mouth to say something and then shut it
again. I'm sorry, he said.
I didn't mean to take sides, but since he was the one she said to
grab, So what? She said we were children.
Of course she was terrified. We were all terrified.
Does that justify the way she's been treated ever since?
She never apologised. So what?
She said again, does that really justify the way she's been
treated ever since? To be on probation seven years
later? He sighed.
No, he said, his voice soft. No, probably not.
Definitely not, she said. People in the DMLE need to have
a serious conversation about why that's still going on and what
needs to be done about it. He nodded.
Yeah, he said. Yeah, you're probably right.
This was the furthest she'd gotten with him since she first
became friends with Pansy. She nudged him with her elbow.
I. Usually am, aren't I?
He laughed and reached for another petty 4.
Was that six or seven for him? You'd think I'd have learned by
now. She smirked.
It was still so weird to see all of Ron's mannerisms in Draco.
She glanced down at their linked hands.
Simple physical touch had always come easy to her.
Draco, who had been expecting to bow to his parents at the start
of each meal in childhood, was another matter.
It was part of the reason physical touch meant so much to
him, and why he'd hate the sight of her holding hands with Ron so
much. You told Padma about this,
right? They told him not to tell
anyone, but she assumed no one counted his wife in that.
He grinned. Can't remember the last time I
saw her laugh that hard. She smiled.
She's the best. He nodded.
Yeah. He didn't say anything else, but
his goofy smile gave it all away.
Weasel's certainly lucky. Hmm.
She said, trying not to laugh. In fact, he began, I, Draco
Malfoy, have to say that there is not a wizard that I admire or
respect more in this world than Ronald Weasley.
Even though she assumed he was going to start something like
that, she kicked him in the shin under the table for good
measure. It only made him laugh.
She lifted her tea for a sip. I'm very grateful.
You've always been so supportive of me and my friendships,
especially after Ron in particular.
Wasn't very nice to you. He spluttered.
Wasn't very nice to me. What about what I've done to
them? She patted his hand.
Even after they hexed you into a slug 3 times, I deserved the
first two. He snapped.
And you helped. She sipped her tea.
Probably deserved it the third time too, just for being a
dumbass. He muttered.
She certainly called Draco that at the time, but Ron didn't need
to know that. I think Ron and Harry and
everyone else were being dumbasses in that moment.
He glared again, but she only smiled.
Glancing back at Gringotts, she breathed a sigh of relief when
she saw Harry, Ron, and Neville speaking with a reporter, more
accurately, Harry, Draco, and Neville.
She squeezed Ron's hand. Why don't we leave the rest of
the errands for next weekend and head back home?
Their signal. He grinned.
Lead the way, Grainger. Merlin, this was too weird.
Harry, Draco, and Neville were already in the living room when
they arrived minutes later. Draco in Ron's body turned about
10 shades of red when he saw their linked arms.
She rolled her eyes. Relax.
She said honestly. Go easy on him.
Harry said, sitting down and smirking.
I had to disarm him so he didn't hex Nevin the vaults.
So he's a little touchy. She rounded on him.
Draco, why would you threaten Neville?
He glared at her. Why would you immediately take
his side? It was Draco's voice and
mannerisms, but Ron's face. It instantly brought back every
fight the two of them had while dating.
She pinched the bridge of her nose.
I can't do this while you look like him.
Draco looked affronted, but Ron started laughing.
Harriet Neville looked equally amused.
Sighing, she walked over to the chair and dropped into it.
Draco walked by and she reached for him, but it took his
incredulous look to remember he was actually Ron.
Draco in Ron's body looked even more affronted than before.
She held up her hands on either side of her face like blinders
and focused on the smirking Harry and Neville on the couch
instead. And both of you need to stay
away from me until the apologies wears off.
Out of the corner of her eye, someone stomped towards the bar
cart in the corner. She focused on Neville.
Are you OK? Harry laughed.
He's fine. It's Draco you should be worried
about. Neville looked like he was
trying to fight a smirk. Smirk, but failing.
Why? Nevada won the wand measuring
contest. Her eyes narrowed.
A wand measuring contest? If this was about some
patriarchal sexist bullshit, just prepare yourself for a
bruised ego for a few days. Harry said.
Ron set down a bottle with a loud clang.
She turned to him. Oh, Ron, not that one, It's
Draco's. He gave her an incredulous look,
and she remembered he was, in fact, Draco.
She rubbed her temple. Sorry, this had been a lot.
Easier when they weren't in the same room.
She turned back to Neville. Did you get what you needed for
Pansy? He nodded.
There was a bright, hopeful excitement he couldn't hide.
Complete success. She grinned.
Good. She glanced at Harry.
And no trouble from robots or others.
She didn't glance over the corner where Draco was still
sulking. Bringing up his mother surely
wasn't going to help whatever was going on now.
None whatsoever. He said going to file a quick
report but all it's going to say is that Ron and I investigated a
rumour of Class A non tradeable goods in the vaults but the
Malfoy family cooperated fully and no illegal items were found.
His eyes darted around the room before he shifted.
We'll probably only help Lucius at his next hearing.
He appealed every year to get his wand back.
It would happen eventually, Draco knew it too.
He hadn't liked talking about it before the discernment either.
Thank you for your help. She said how he traded smirks
with Neville. It was fun.
Thank you. Neville said, his expression
earnest. All of you, anor, thank you.
Glad that you got what you needed.
Harry said. All worth it in the end.
Debatable. Draco muttered from the counter.
Hermione glanced up from the page in her book.
Draco, fresh from a bath, strode into the room, looking settled
in his usual clothing. Everything from his posture to
his expression screamed Draco, but she'd been wrong a few times
today that she couldn't help but be suspicious.
Potter, Weasel and Longbottom left half an hour ago.
They'd come to say goodbye, Ron back in his own body and wearing
a spare set of robes he'd bought with him.
I know Weasel has poor taste, but I cannot believe Padma lets
him out of the house in what he was wearing.
She doesn't. Grey eyes flicked to her.
It took everything in her not to laugh.
He wore those purely for your benefit today.
His eyes narrowed. Remind me again why you're
friends with him? When we were first years, he
helped save me from a mountain troll after I got locked in a
bathroom. She said.
I corrected his homework for the next 6 years.
It felt like a fair trade. His look was half deadpan, half
exasperation. She smirked.
Weren't you only in that bathroom because he'd made you
cry? Her smirk spread.
I've been known to be very understanding and forgiving
towards boys from boarding school who made me cry.
He cringed. Although I've never got the
chance to slap him and call him a foul, loathsome, evil little
cockroach. End of.
A smile returned. You know, that might have been
the first moment I started to fall in love with you.
She almost made a joke about if that was why he'd asked to see
her knickers at the World Cup only a few months later, but let
it slide, knowing it wouldn't go over well.
Both Jinny and Pansy would have laughed at it.
Crossing the room, he put his hands on either arm of the chair
and leaned down to kiss her. She pulled back and his eyebrows
shot up in disbelief. I've been scarred too many times
today, she said. Tell me something about me that
only the real Draco would know. He shot her a look.
Due to your oversharing nature, the only things I know about you
that the Weasel doesn't are cross.
She grinned. Say something cross, then,
instead of flirting back or actually saying something dirty.
His face fell. Do I?
Would you? He cleared his throat.
Would you like me to say more crass things in the moment?
She studied him. What's going on?
Things between us? Satisfactory.
She spluttered. What?
The hesitancy on his face and the fact that he wouldn't meet
her eyes made her realise he was serious.
Oh Merlin, she said. You really are, Ron.
He swatted her hand away as she started giggling.
Is it wrong for me to ensure that my fiance is well
satisfied? Have I ever given you any
indication that I'm not? Answer the question.
Yes, she said, highly satisfied. Where is this coming from?
Good Godric, if this has anything to do with Harry's
comment about his and Neville's wand measuring contest.
You asked if I would say cross things, He said.
I am aware that that is an area I'm not exactly proficient.
It was so hard to not laugh at him.
Years of pure blood etiquette training left their mark and
apparently rendered him incapable of dirty talk.
Maybe not. It was perhaps one area she
anticipated actions more than words, however.
But there are much better ways to use your tongue.
The corner of his mouth rose in 1/2 smirk.
Shall I keep that in mind for a later or now?
His eyebrows arched. Placing either hand on her
thighs, he leaned closer. You don't like being interrupted
when you're reading? You already interrupted me.
Shall I apologise for it? She grinned profusely, dropping
his knees. He started to slide her skirt up
her thighs and pressed a kiss to the inside of her knee.
Feel free to demand profuse apologies from me any time you
wish, Pansy. Pansy strode out from the back,
ready for her next appointment. Things had finally started
picking up again, although she wished everyone would have
thought ahead instead of waiting for the week before Valentine's
Day to get their outfits ready. Part of her was debating
developing a line of lingerie for next year's holiday.
She could model some of her ideas for Neville.
Seeing how fast she could get his jaw to drop was quickly
becoming a favorite pastime of hers.
Her feet slowed as the door swung open and Neville was
actually standing there. He had mentioned he was meeting
Ron and Harry for lunch and might stop by.
She'd given up on him after he still hadn't shown by two.
Neville's face split into a big grin and he walked forward,
kissing her soundly. She heard a soft gasp and a few
titters from shoppers and pulled herself back.
She straightened her dress, holding back what was surely A
foolish smile. Neville, she said.
What brings you by? He beamed down at her.
Finishing my errands and wanted to say hi.
Licking her thumb, she wiped some of the lipstick she'd
smudged across his chin. That was sweet, but I'm a little
busy. Ah, no, he said.
See you tonight. They still lived together,
didn't they? Obviously.
Right. He said, a goofy smile still in
place. Bye.
Just like that, he left the shop and wandered down the street.
She gaped at his disappearing form for a few minutes.
What the hell had that been about?
So were romantic? She turned to an older witch who
was smiling at her with a far away look in her eyes.
I remember when Albert used to sweep me off my feet like that.
She didn't know if she wanted to melt or disappear.
Instead, she smiled at the older woman.
Let's help you sweep him off his feet on Monday, all right?