Some Things Change

When Draco returned to Malfoy Manor that night, he went straight into his father’s study. As he suspected, Lucius was sitting behind his massive mahogany desk, working fervently at something Draco knew was dreadfully boring.

He announced his presence by sitting heavily in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Lucius did not look up; Draco sighed dramatically. No response. Draco put his feet on his father’s desk, and Lucius’ reverie was finally broken.

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, Draco. Can you not find something else to entertain you: perhaps a house elf, or a box of kittens?”

“No, Father. I don’t want to be entertained; I only wanted to inform you of my date tonight.”

Lucius would not deign to snort, but was not above a sneer. “I have absolutely no interest in your exploits until they produce an heir.”

Draco laughed; he knew his father was only half serious. In the last few years, they shared a bond that had never existed in their lives before. He knew his father respected him, and he returned that respect wholeheartedly. They had both suffered greatly in trying to keep their family together, and had learned that sometimes something that seemed so right in theory was absolutely wrong in practice. They weren’t the only ones who had learned this the hard way.

“Well, perhaps your interest will be piqued when I tell you with whom I was out.”

“Doubtful.”

“Hermione Granger.”

As much as Lucius would have loved to remain impassive to this news, he was truly shocked. Draco really had matured. He’d known it, but did not think it extended into his love life.

“Really, a Muggle-born?”

“Well, love makes no such distinctions,” Draco declared, hand over his heart. Lucius looked at his son, seeing that while Draco was joking about himself being in love, he truly believed that sentiment.

“Indeed,” he drawled cryptically.

“I think you would really like her, Father. She is so acerbic, it’s hilarious to watch. She still struggles with her own preconceived notions about me; I really don’t think she sees the irony in that.”

“I’m sure you’ll set her straight soon enough, Son.” And Lucius was sure; when his son wanted something, there was no stopping him. He came by it honestly, of course.

“I intend to.”

Draco left his father to his work, and went up to bed.

He lied awake for a while, wondering just when his life had changed so drastically. He had honestly hated Hermione throughout his school years, not just because of her blood status, but her fierce loyalty to those two prats had royally offended him, and her intelligence had threatened him at the time. Now her loyalty and brains were two of her best qualities, and Draco hated that he’d let himself be brainwashed into hating the one person who could have been his equal.

A few years ago he’d blamed his father, until he’d learned his father was just as brainwashed as he’d been, only for much longer and with much more violence. Lucius had had his superiority beaten into him at every turn, and Draco, who’d never had so much as a spanking, could not hold against his father that which he himself would never understand.

He was only grateful that their family was still together… mostly. His mother had left immediately following the war, unable to accept their changing world, or Lucius’ attempts to make a place in it for their family. She couldn’t bear seeing their money squandered, as she put it, on fruitless efforts like Werewolf Emancipation and House Elf Liberation.

Of course, the Malfoys still had house elves. They just paid them now.

Draco missed his mother, who was currently residing in Italy with her new husband, Draco’s stepfather, who was his own age, but they kept in regular contact. If Draco were to be honest, he’d admit things were better without her. Lucius smiled more, joked more and seemed years younger. Draco himself felt freer and less constrained by social mores and pressure. The Malfoy men were doing just fine on their own, it was true.

But something was missing, and Draco believed knew just what—who—it was.


Lucius was musing over what he’d learned from his son that evening. He knew Draco had changed, that the war had changed him, but he had no idea of the extent. Especially since only a few months ago, Draco had come to him absolutely exasperated about “that Granger chit”, for one reason for another. Sometimes for multiple reasons.

There was, indeed, a thin line between love and hate, and Draco was a passionate man.

Now that he thought about it, he couldn’t believe he’d never seen it before. Of course, Miss Granger would be perfect for Draco. Their intelligence was matched, their passions equal, their interests similar. They would make a very good pair, if they would be able to get past the animosity of their youth. He knew Draco was willing to overlook it, but would she? Could she?

Lucius finished up his work for the evening, looking forward to a weekend free of responsibilities. He tried not to think about how he’d been a little disappointed at the name of Draco’s date, but not because of her blood status, no, no.

Because it had not been Lucius himself on that date.

The first time he’d noticed Miss Granger at the Ministry, he’d recognized her immediately from Draco’s school days. He’d been impeccably polite to her, and he’d found himself thinking about her long after their meeting. Whenever she came to his office for budget approvals, complaints about the restrictions on certain charities, and once, a none-too-subtle commentary on nepotism, he’d found himself admiring her fire, her figure, and her drive. She was probably one of the very few Ministry employees who earned every dollar the honest way. Even Lucius was not above pulling favours and dropping names to get his job done well. He wasn’t sure if he admired that or not.

But he hadn’t intended to court her, not really. It was merely a passing fancy for a younger woman whose passion matched his own. He admitted that Draco was a better match for her. Maybe he was just having a mid-life crisis. Lucius scoffed disdainfully, perishing the thought.

But despite his attempts to convince himself that he didn’t want Miss Granger, that night his dreams matched her eyes and her scent pervaded his imagination.


Over the next week, Draco managed to convince Hermione to go for dinner once more, and to lunch twice.

It was possible she was a glutton for punishment, because she could honestly not understand why she agreed. He had even given her an out when he said he would never ask her again if she didn’t want him to. But when he had asked, she hadn’t told him to talk a long walk off a short dock.

So really, she brought it on herself.

But the shocking thing was she was having fun. Draco was actually funny; his sardonic wit was biting at times, but when it wasn’t at the expense of another person, it was remarkable. She found that she quite liked talking to him at times.

Other times, she wanted to disembowel him. When he pompously acted like he was doing her a favour by going out with her, she’d promptly got up from the table and left the restaurant. That was the last date they’d been on two days ago. He’d followed her, but she ignored him. He tried to grab her arm to slow her down, but she’d hit him with a look so scathing, he drew his hand away and held it up in surrender.

“Merlin, take a joke, Granger!” He’d been angry that she had taken his comment the wrong way, but not surprised. He was a little bothered by how much her being bothered had bothered him.

When Draco told his father about their fight, he had laughed uproariously. “I hope you didn’t expect it to be easy, Draco! It appears you’ve underestimated your little friend, and that is a dangerous mistake to make with someone like Hermione.”

Draco noted his father’s use of Hermione’s first name, and, like a Malfoy, filed it away for later. He also took notice of the backhanded compliment he’d paid her, and wondered if Lucius was getting soft. It bore consideration.

“I don’t want it to be easy, for once in my life. But I wish I knew how to say the right thing all the time.”

Lucius smiled at his son. Draco actually had little experience with dating, and even less with wooing. Perhaps it would behoove him to give his son a few lessons on the fairer sex.

“Son, she is a special case. You know you cannot buy her with baubles or charm her with charity. You need to appeal to her intelligence, her sense of justice, her ambition. You have more in common than you know, and you’re only driving her away by dwelling on the differences between you, rather than the commonalities.”

Draco was surprised at his father’s wise words. Perhaps that’s what he’d been doing wrong all along, reminding her of the past, and the way he’d used to be instead of the man he was now.

“Um…thanks, Father. I think you might be onto something there.”

Lucius chuckled and said only, “Good luck.”

Draco would need it.


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Author's Note: Thank you all for your kind reviews. I'm glad people don't mind that I maintain a slow build-up for this story. I hope you enjoyed the update, and I'd be thrilled if you rate and review!