#he's now officially 'draco's little mandrake' in hermione's mind and you can't change mine about that either

[coffeestainsandcashmere]

Let No Man Steal Your Thyme - Older Dramione

This feels very much like a Part One, and if you’d like more please let me know! (if anyone even sees this!). 

Synopsis:

Draco, eight months after becoming a widower, nearly loses his son too in a vicious attack at Malfoy Manor. In the aftermath, while he’s being questioned by the aurors, there’s no one to look after little Scorpius, who just won’t stop howling. In desperation, and remembering how good Hermione had been with his kids, Harry brings the baby up to her office. In the end, the only thing that will calm the child is the soft hum of Hermione’s voice as she sings to him. Of course, that would be how Draco Malfoy finds her, wouldn’t t it? And then, eleven years later, Hermione meets him again...

(Warnings for past Ron/Hermione, and implied infertility. No explicit Ron-bashing, but it’s implied that their relationship couldn’t take the strain and he looked elsewhere. I may develop it later, but it won’t be a Ron-bashing fic. They’re just ultimately incompatible in this universe).

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“Hermione…” Harry’s voice cut through her thoughts as she stared at the paperwork in front of her.

“What? What’s wrong?” she asked, jerking to her feet behind her enormous desk, eyes wide at the sight of Harry’s face. He was ashen, and it took a lot to shake Auror Potter these days. “Is it Ginny? James? Albus? Merlin, Harry, what’s happened?”

“They’re fine,” he said heavily and with a strangely detached intonation. “It’s… It’s Malfoy.”

That drew her up short. “Draco?” she frowned, wondering why he’d be so concerned about his former schoolboy nemesis. They hadn’t seen him in years. No one had. “What about him?”

“He… There was an attack.”

Her world tilted strangely. He’d always been there in the background, though the last time she’d seen him had been years ago at Theo’s wedding. He’d looked so good then, and happy too, with Astoria smiling at his side. She seemed to have softened his sharp edges, though the two had merely nodded when their eyes met across the room while Theo kissed his husband silly in the middle of the dance floor. That had been a good night, but that had been years ago.  

“Harry, what happened? Is… Is he alright?”

“I’m not really here about Draco…. It’s about his son, Scorpius.”  

“I don’t understand.”

Harry stepped into her office and closed the door. With his status as Head Auror, he was the only one who could barge in on the head of the DMLE like this, and she welcomed it. “As I understand it, he left Scorpius in the care of his nanny for the afternoon so that he could go to Gringotts and sort out some business there, and while he was gone… the nanny and Scorpius were attacked. The nanny… she died protecting him. We’ve managed to keep it from the press at the moment.”

“Harry, where’s Draco now?” She scowled, coming around to the side of the desk. “I should have been informed, this is my department, Harry…”

“He’s being questioned.”

“Questioned? By whom? Why? Harry —”

“We need to know all we can about it. There were Dark Arts involved, Hermione. Some really nasty curses. This is Auror stuff for now. If it becomes your department, you can handle it personally if you like but…”  

He sucked in a breath and suddenly looked much older than he was. She was viscerally reminded of Remus Lupin for a heartbeat.  

“Mione, I haven’t got anywhere I can leave Scorpius, and he hasn’t stopped screaming since he got here. You… You were always so good with my lot… is… is there any chance I can leave him with you. I know he’ll be safe here…”

She blinked. “Harry, I —” What was she about to say? That she didn’t have time? That she didn’t have time to take care of a frightened child? What could be more important than that? The stacks of parchments and fluttering memos orbiting her desk would say otherwise, but she was head of the department, dammit. Someone else could handle that. “Of course.”

Harry’s shoulders went slack and he exhaled. “I’ll bring him up.” And with that, he was gone.  

She heard Scorpius long before she saw him, howling like a mandrake. 

When the eight month old child was brought into her office, red-faced and screaming, her heart went out to him. Harry - who had seen his fair share of babies and drama with his own little brood - looked distinctly uncomfortable holding the squirming child in his arms.  

There was a rarely-used sofa in Hermione’s office, and she took the wriggling baby from Harry and sank down onto it. “You can leave me with him,” she said quietly, marvelling at his silver eyes and tiny hands, currently balled into feisty little fists. “Tell Penelope that I am unavailable for the rest of the day and to be disturbed only in absolute emergencies, and even then only by you.”

Harry nodded.  

“Or by Draco, if he’s free and wants to reclaim his gorgeous little howling hellspawn,” she laughed. At the sound of it, Scorpius took a gulping breath, and paused his dramatics, blinking. “Oh, you didn’t like that, hmm?” she chuckled, tapping his tiny little button nose. “Well, if the shoe fits…” she said.  

“I’ll leave you to it,” Harry mumbled. “Thanks, Hermione.”

“Honestly, despite the terrible circumstances, I’m grateful for some time off, Harry. I can’t remember the last time I put something else before work.”

“Probably the last time Albus made a noise like that,” he snorted, hand on the door. “Shout if you need anything. I’ll be down in interrogation with Malfoy.”

“Harry?”

“Mm?”

“Go easy on him. He’s only been a widower for eight months.”

The comment brought a quiet look to Harry’s green eyes, perhaps imagining himself in the same boat, and he nodded.  

It took a long, long time for Scorpius to settle, but after nearly two hours, she had resorted to letting the boy play with her curls while she sang. He liked the melancholy folk songs, she discovered, so after four renditions of Scarborough Fair, and two of Go Your Way, she settled on Let No Man Steal Your Thyme. That one hurt even more than Go Your Way, but Scorpius was fascinated.  

Hermione wasn’t the best singer, but her husky alto suited that last one so well that she almost forgot to be shy about singing, even for a baby.  

Tears flowed as the words stuck in her throat and she cradled the little one close to her, cupping his head as she rocked him. Pain and heartache welled up in her as she fought down flashes of Ron’s callous betrayal, but she forced her voice to remain steady. 

For when your thyme is past and gone

He'll care no more for you

And in the place your time was waste

Will spread all over with rue

Will spread all over with rue

The door creaked and she jumped. Instinctively turning little Scorpius from the doorway and setting her own body between them, she soon found she need not have been so protective. Draco Malfoy stood on the threshold, his silver eyes wide and full of tears, his lips parted in a gesture of astonishment.  

“Draco,” she said, standing carefully from the sofa. “Are you alright?”

He didn’t say anything for the longest time, but eventually he cleared his throat. “Granger…” he whispered. “I… I mean…”

“Please,” she said, stepping over to him and holding out the tiny child. “Here… Careful, he’s not long been asleep.”

“Potter said he wouldn’t stop screaming. I nearly broke the wards trying to get to him…”

She chuckled. Scorpius still had his little fingers gripped around a curl and Draco was staring at it. “I’m surprised anything stopped you,” she said. “Here,” and handed him over.  

Draco took him so gently that something twisted in her gut and she almost lurched back from him for no good reason. Scorpius grumbled and fussed in his sleep as she pried his strong fingers off her hair and she stroked the back of his smooth, now pale, cheek. “Shh, little mandrake,” she smiled. “It’s alright now. Your father’s here.”

If she’d been told, at the age of eleven, that Draco Malfoy would be cradling his son like he was the most precious thing in the universe, she would have laughed, but seeing it now, it only warmed her heart.  

“Thank you, Granger,” Draco said in a hoarse rasp without taking his eyes off his boy. “I can’t tell you… I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

“I think I can hazard a guess,” she said with a wry twist to her lips.  

“You and Weasley have children, Granger?” he asked, still staring at his son.  

Pain lanced through her chest, but she kept her face perfectly schooled. “No, but I’ve seen my fair share of late nights and fussy babies from Harry and Ginny.”

At that, Draco looked up sharply, his piercing eyes searching her face. “I see,” was all he said.

“Harry and his team will do everything they can to figure out who was behind it, Draco. They’ll get them.”

His face darkened. “Azkaban will be too comfortable a place for them after what they did.”

That’s the Malfoy I remember, she nearly said, but instead, she stroked Scorpius silky white hair once and then rolled the tension from her neck while Malfoy crossed to the door, his tiny son held tight to his chest. He looked thinner than she remembered, and more haunted around the eyes, but she supposed that the grief of his wife’s death was still near. Theo - a surprisingly close friend of hers these days - had said Malfoy hadn’t left the manor at all since Astoria died. Perhaps this was his first outing. Oh God, she thought. What a thing to happen on his first day from the Manor.  

“Take care of yourself, Granger,” he said from the doorway, and she realised that she’d been staring at him without really seeing him.  

“You too, Draco,” she said. “I hope perhaps to see you again, though under infinitely better circumstances.”

That clearly surprised him, but he managed a tight-lipped smile, a nod, and then he was gone.  

She sank down on to the sofa, feeling the loss of the little boy’s weight in her arms anew, and with a flick of her fingers, she wandlessly closed and locked the door to her office, and burst into tears.  

___

“Mum!” Albus whined, yanking Ginny along while their younger sister slid her tiny hand into Hermione’s and trotted along at a more sedate pace. “Come on! We’re going to miss the train!”

Ginny shot Hermione a frantic look over her shoulder, and Hermione just rolled her eyes. They still had enough time.  

“I want to go through on my own!” Albus said with a serious little frown on his adorable face when they paused in the main concourse of the station. “Can I?”

Ginny nodded. “Wait right on the other side for us though. Do not go wandering off. It’ll be chaos back there.”

The earnest young boy nodded and turned his trolley towards the barrier. Hermione watched as Ginny as Albus vanished into the brickwork, unseen by muggle eyes. “It’s no easier the second time around, Hermione,” she said.  

James, two years older, just rolled his eyes and slouched through after his little brother with the unimpressed face of a thirteen year old.

“Go on,” Hermione chuckled at Ginny. “I’ll bring Lily through.”

Reunited on the other side, Hermione’s eyebrows rose at the sight that greeted her almost immediately. Amid the bustle and rolling clouds of steam, a tall, slender man stood with his back to them, silver-white hair neatly combed back, and with his hand resting on the shoulder of a young boy who could have been a carbon copy of himself at that age. Hermione’s mind actually slipped a little sideways at the sight of them.

There was a bubble of empty space around them though, as if they carried the plague, and people shot them furtive looks as they scuttled past. Malfoy kept his hand on his son’s shoulder, and Hermione remembered with a jolt that she’d once held the boy who now stood beside him. Scorpius. Malfoy’s little mandrake. That had been in another life, it seemed to her then.  

“That’s Malfoy,” Ginny whispered, sounding scandalised as she half-turned to Hermione. “He hasn’t been seen in public for… years. I heard he’s a complete recluse… I’m surprised he didn’t pack his son off on the train with some governess or something…”

“Don't gossip, Gin,” Hermione chided her best friend. “It’s unkind.”

The guard gave a shrill whistle, and the platform scurried into a maelstrom of last-minute, frenzied activity. Goodbyes from weeping parents, yells and laughter of reuniting students, hooting owls and yowling cats… it was a familiar cacophony and somehow it soothed her. In the chaos, Malfoy and his son disappeared amid the smoke like ghosts.  

Once James had said his goodbyes and scuttled off to be with his friends, a sulking Albus hugged his mother, and she ruffled his black hair. “Your father’s so proud of you, Albus,” she said.  

“Yeah, but he’s not here today is he?” he said in a softly sullen voice as he stepped back.  

“He’s not in the country, Albus. He would have been here if he could, and he’ll be here when you come home for the holidays. He’s booked the time off already,” she said, clearly trying to hold it together.  

“Yeah, til there’s an emergency then as well.”  

“Can I have one last hug before you go?” Ginny asked and reluctantly the boy wound his arms around his mother’s waist again. “Thanks, love. I’m so proud of you.”

Hermione cupped his cheek fondly as he pulled back, and said, “You’ll be fine, Albus. Whatever happens, we’ll all be proud of you, alright? You can always owl us if you need anything.”

“Yes, Aunt Hermione.” The kid nodded and they helped him heave his trunk onto the train and stow it in the luggage area.  

As the engine left in a cloud of steam, Ginny looked at her wristwatch swore softly. “I’ve got to go. Come on, Lily,” she said, taking the quiet young girl’s hand. “Ready to side-along? Mummy’s going to be late.”

“You’re always late,” Lily said innocently and Hermione hid a smirk behind her hand.  

“Not one word, Granger,” Ginny snickered at her. “Thanks love. I’ll see you for dinner on Thursday?”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Hermione smiled, hugging her briefly in an awkward side-hug before they both disapparated, leaving her alone in the swirling steam.  

When it cleared, she found that the only other person on her section of the platform was Draco Malfoy. He stood with his back to her, staring after the train like a statue as the white clouds cleared in the wake of the departing Express.  

Taking a chance, Hermione approached him. He flinched when she appeared in his peripheral vision, but when he saw who it was, he stilled. “Granger…” he said warily. Age had done nothing to his looks except perhaps to enhance them, though he still bore shadows under his eyes and carried a pinched look that reminded her of their sixth year at Hogwarts.  

She smiled openly though. “Draco.”  

His gaze slid inexorably back to the retreating engine as it dragged the carriages behind it, and he blinked a few times, eyes glassy. His throat worked as he swallowed thickly, and then he frowned. “You seeing your own off today?” he asked, still staring.  

The dull pain still made itself known, but she shook her head. “No. I’m… I’m here for Ginny’s younger boy, Albus.”

“I see.”

“Harry was a wreck when James went away.” At Malfoy’s frown, she clarified, “His first born.”  

“He’s not here today?” Malfoy asked with familiar sarcasm lacing his tone and turning to face her. “Couldn’t stand it a second time round?”

She sighed and swept her wild hair back out of her face, watching as Malfoy’s eyes tracked the movement with the intensity of a grey owl. “He’s on assignment and couldn’t get away. He left a letter in Albus’ suitcase, but the kid’s still hurt. How’s Scorpius handling it?” and by extension, you?  

Malfoy managed a weak, lopsided smile that carried none of his previous sneer and sting. In fact, he looked washed out. His cheeks were gaunt in a way that reminded her unsettlingly of Lucius in his latter years among the Death Eaters. Malfoy inhaled sharply through his nose. “Better than I would have done, in his position. He’s… He’s worried about the legacy I’ve left him, I think. Rightly so.”

Hermione nodded, hair still blowing about her head like a dandelion. “Albus too, with Harry.”

Malfoy raised one icy eyebrow and snorted in a very ‘Malfoy’ way. It was almost reassuring. “For different reasons, I imagine.”

“Yes and no,” she said, continuing unflinchingly. “Obviously Scorpius will have to deal with the unsavoury nature of your role in the war, but Harry’s successes weigh heavily on his children too. The pressure they feel is, regrettably, immense. In that respect, I’m almost glad I —” she cut herself off abruptly. “Anyway. All we can do is support them.”

Malfoy was looking at her with the strangest expression on his face. “Indeed,” he finally said. “I should return to the Manor.”

“Have a drink with me,” she blurted, and he turned his head like an owl in surprise. It might have been funny if his face wasn’t so difficult to read.  

“Beg pardon?” he snorted.  

“Sorry. I… I didn’t mean to impose myself on you, Draco. I don’t blame you if you’d rather not. I just… You look like you could use a drink.”

“At elven o’clock in the morning? What kind of degenerate do you take me for?”

Was he joking? She thought she saw a little burnished glint in his silver eyes. “Come to the Leaky with me and find out,” she said. “I’ve got nothing all day.”

He narrowed his eyes. Finally, he whispered, “Merlin’s beard, you’re actually serious.”

“Perfectly, but there’s no pressure. I’ve got some things I need to see to in Diagon Alley first. We could have lunch if you’d rather.”

He opened his mouth, said nothing, closed it, opened it again, and then, to her astonishment, he laughed. It was a bitter, brittle little thing, but still, it touched his eyes. “Alright. Lunch it is, Granger. I’ll see you at twelve thirty at the Leaky.”

Her mouth lifted into a smile and her heart leapt. She felt like a teenager again, giddy with anticipation and the slight elicit feel to it. This was Draco Malfoy after all. But she’d seen him watery eyed and desperately worried for his infant son, and she would never look at him the same way again after that.

___

If you enjoyed, please reblog and share! I’m kind of new to being active in the fandom on here, and shy.

If you want more from this AU, let me know too!

You spoke! and PART TWO was written. Find it here, and check my masterlist for more parts in the future!

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writing masterlist | Ao3 (updated, should work now! Sorry!)