The Visitors

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The storm raged on, and Draco Malfoy felt uneasy.

As his eyes were permanently glued to one of the vast windows in his flat, watching the trashing trees and the pattering rain, Draco knew he could not sleep yet. Something was amiss. Something was bound to happen.

And so, he waited.

Perched on his plush couch beside the blazing fireplace, he tried to keep himself busy by reading a novel or updating himself with the latest news of the Wizarding World. Such was his distraction from these simple tasks; his eyes kept on drifting towards the windows. Deeply sighing, he finally gave up any activity and merely stared out the window.

Draco briefly looked at his watch, noting that it was close to midnight. 'I should really get ready for bed,' he begrudgingly thought with a sigh, easing himself up from the couch. He was to visit his ailing mother in the Malfoy Manor tomorrow. It would do him some good if he had some sleep tonight, knowing tomorrow would only give him a troublesome heart.

As he was readying himself to leave the room, a sudden pop rang in his private study area.

"Master Draco has visitors," the house-elf said, bowing so low his nose almost touching the carpeted floor.

"Visitors?" he echoed, eyebrows scrunching in confusion. He tried to recall if Theo meant to see him today, and then proceeded to think his best friend wouldn't even bother coming through the door. "Have you asked for their names, Tippy?"

The house-elf looked at him in horror, eyes suddenly widening like saucers. "Forgive Tippy, Master Draco!" he shrilly exclaimed. "Tippy forgot and failed you, master! Tippy will accept any punishment." He tearfully wrung his ears in shame, reminiscent of his once beloved elf Dobby, prompting Draco to sigh.

"It's all right, Tippy. It's a simple mistake," he reassured. Although once upon a time he was a frightful boy who loved to punish the house-elves, Draco had now grown out of that habit. Especially, after seeing the horrors of the Second Wizarding War, he tried to keep violence at a minimum. Some things never changed, however, since the Malfoy house-elves were still terribly melodramatic.

"What of the visitors, then?" he urged.

"A woman and a child, Master Draco," Tippy said, nervously crumpling the tips of his ears. "The woman claims urgency, master. Tippy has no choice but to call Master Draco."

The blond was admittedly curious. "Very well, bring them in."

Tippy disappeared with a pop at once and Draco waited on his armchair. He could hear Tippy's scuttling footsteps, and another pair that was quite familiar to him. As Tippy walked inside the study area and ushered the visitors inside, Draco was brought to his feet in disbelief, clearly not expecting them. Tippy then bowed down and left.

"G-Granger?"

Opposite him stood the bushy-haired Hermione Granger. The storm was unforgiving to her, drenching the poor woman from head to toe despite her heavy coat. In her arms was a child that looked exactly like her - the bushy hair, the nose, the lips - save from her red hair and blue eyes.

"Hello, Malfoy."

He stared, still too dumbstruck, and he did not know what to do. The last time he saw her was on the day of his trial with the Wizengamot. After that, Draco lived almost like a recluse, shutting himself from the Wizarding World with only some contact with his business partners, Theo, his mother and her healer.

Draco's throat ran dry, remembering the times when he was partnered with Granger during missions for the Order of the Phoenix. Despite the bad blood, McGonagall believed they were quite a pair. Draco was well-equipped with knowledge on the Dark Arts, and, combined with Hermione's magical prowess, they were a force to be reckoned with. He could not remember how many times she saved his life... the times when he saved her life.

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