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hOLDing On

Summary:

Hermione Granger, brightest witch of her age, is hellbent on creating a rehabilitation program for her former colleagues from Hogwarts who were on the wrong side of war. What she did not expect was to become part of the initial tests for the proposal to be accepted, having to house the proudest and most damaged Slytherin that she knows.

This fanfic is being written at the same time as my ACOTAR one - which is my main fanfic at the moment. Not really sure where this will end up, but this idea has been swimming inside my mind, and I couldn't resist any longer.

Please be aware that I am not a native and my English is not perfect.

Chapter Text

Hermione Granger stood by the window of her room - it was open and the chilly night made her shiver for a second. But she needed that, needed to be grounded. With her curls tucked on the top of her head into a bun, she watched the busy street in front of her apartment. It was Friday night and most people would not stay home as she did. But it was for a good cause. A good reason, she tried to convince herself.

What the bloody hell was she thinking?

After the destruction of the Dark Lord, the Death Eaters were captured one by one. Some would offer resistance and others would simply present themselves to the Aurors, knowing what their futures held but still accepting it. Lucius Malfoy had been the first one to do it. Shipped off to Azkaban, his trial had almost resulted in receiving the Kiss. However, after his memories had been reviewed, it was clear he didn't have another choice. It was either to serve the Dark Lord, who lived inside his family's Manor, or allow his wife and son to be slaughtered. Draco showed up the most in his memories, analyzed by the Wizengamot. Narcissa came in second.

Narcissa was missing. The amount of panic in Lucius' eyes had made clear that she hadn't run - she was simply gone, and not even he knew where she was. Draco had tried to escape the Aurors to look for her, but he was just a boy. Just a boy who had been captured on the wrong side of the war. Just to be captured by the Aurors while he tried to break free and screamed for his mother. Everything had happened while Hermione was hugging Harry, her hands touching his face, his neck, his shoulders, his arms. He was alive. And he had defeated Voldemort. Draco was fighting and squirming while she looked at him over Harry's shoulder. Her chest had clenched with a pain she was familiar with: loneliness. He had no family, with his father about to be locked up and his mother missing. And where were his friends? In the process of being behind bars or simply whisked away by their families, who did not want to be connected with the losing side. At least Hermione had her friends. Draco was alone.

And that had given her a reason to make her first move.

After receiving an Order of Merlin and a ridiculous amount of gold, Hermione found a small apartment in London on the busiest street she could find. Her old house had been vandalized and half destroyed by Death Eaters - fortunately, her parents were safe in Australia without their memories of who she was. Trying to stir herself away from things and places that would remind her of that, she was now surrounded by strangers who were busy living their lives without knowing their world had almost gone to hell just a few months ago. She wanted the noise, the lights, the constant movement. She didn't want to remember the months she had spent with Harry and Ron hiding in random locations, fighting to find the Horcruxes with constant anxiety hitting her chest. She had been the glue that kept the Golden Trio alive. But now she needed to amend herself, and she did not want to rely on others just like they had relied on her. She knew how dangerous that would be.

That was why she lived in London, alone. Surrounded by Muggles with suitcases and trench coats. Or by parents who would walk their children through the street to go to the park. A normal life. Yes, that was what she craved. With much time on her hands, and still not ready to face all the things that needed fixing inside herself, Hermione started researching. She knew when Draco's trial was going to take place, and knew she and Harry were going to testify for him. But that wasn't enough - at least for her. She needed to do more. To help him. To find a way to keep him away from Azkaban and from being utterly alone when he needed someone's support.

Inspired by Muggle laws and cases, she started to compile her proposal to the Ministry of Magic. Delinquents - that was what most people would call teenagers who had made bad decisions when no one else was there to help or guide them. When their backgrounds were revealed as nothing but traumatizing. Young adults who needed to be rehabilitated into society, instead of being locked up and stripped of a future, were given a second chance with a strict amount of rules they would have to follow. She knew it wouldn't be easy for the Ministry to accept something similar. But she also knew she had been attending Hogwarts with teenagers who deserved a second chance. And Draco was one of them.

Hermione got to work and, in a matter of weeks, her proposal was finished. Armed with the thick file in her arms, she had entered the courtroom with determination. Harry was the only one who knew what she had been cooking, so he could give some hints about the benefits of rehabilitation while he was providing his testimony, since he was going to go first. When it was her turn, the Wizengamot already had a seed of doubt planted inside them. A seed of interest. Of curiosity. But that was not the only thing that was needed for her proposal to go forward.

"Miss Granger, this... program... that you are presenting to us is something that was never considered before," Ernest Hawkworth pointed out with a raised eyebrow.

"I understand, Mr. Hawkworth, I do," Hermione stated. "But we are also living a different reality in a new era."

"Do you understand how hard it would be for the families to accept such a thing? To deny themselves the feeling of safety and comfort, especially now that the war is over?"

"Most of my colleagues that were judged in this courtroom were not killers. Most of them had their families making choices for them. They are not dangerous."

The dangerous ones were already locked up.

"This program is only intended for the ones who wish to be reinserted into society and redeem themselves," she continued.

"And you believe Mr. Malfoy here is one of those wizards?"

"I do."

And she did. Until she was cornered.

"I must say none of us were expecting to be approached with a proposal like yours, Miss Granger," said Brunhilde Stokke. "This trial was supposed to simply decide Mr. Malfoy's future."

"This is about his future and many others," Hermione insisted.

"Well, we will need to show the families that this program can be trusted and they can open their homes to our defendants."

That was the hard part of her entire proposal and she knew about it. But she was prepared for this - taking another folder from her suitcase (she did not want to appear at the Wizengamot with an illegal Extension Charm in her beaded bag), she opened it.

"That won't be necessary." Mrs. Stokke said.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. She was sure she had them in the palm of her hand - maybe she was wrong?

"What better way to prove that it will work than using yourself for the start of the program?"

"Whatever do you mean?"

"Well, you were under duress longer and harder than most wizards and witches during this war. Your forgiveness would be an example to be followed by everyone."

Under duress was an understatement. Hermione knew what was coming. She gripped the folder until her knuckles turned white.

"Rehabilitate Mr. Malfoy in the peace of your home, Miss Granger. Show us this is possible and we will make it an official procedure from now on."

Her mouth was dry and she could feel all eyes on her.

"Let's make a testing period of... four months, maybe? You take Mr. Malfoy into your household and help him. The Ministry will be in close contact so we can receive updates and also protect you."

"I-" Hermione started. She pushed against the dryness of her mouth and throat. "I do not live with my parents."

"Even better. A young witch living alone and rehabilitating a former Death Eater? That will make your case even stronger. If you can do it, entire families will be capable of the same."

Hermione had kept her eyes away from Draco the entire time. He was standing in the middle of the courtroom, wearing filthy and grey Azkaban clothing, chained by the wrists and ankles. Chains that prevented him from fleeing and using magic. And he was now looking at her with wide silver eyes.

"What do you say, Miss Granger?"

Her ears were ringing. Flashes of images from the Malfoy Manor went through her mind. This was exactly what those families would feel if their households were picked. But she couldn't back away now - not when she felt all her previous colleagues needed help that would never come if her program did not go forward. She cleared her throat and looked at them.

"I accept."

Murmurs covered the courtroom and she had to keep herself busy by getting her folders back into her suitcase so her hands wouldn't shake in front of everyone. Mrs. Stokke looked at her with a grin. Hermione and Draco were to be their guinea pigs. Test experiments for an uncomfortable measure that had been proposed by herself.

"You can expect Mr. Malfoy to be dropped at your house next Friday," Mr. Hawkworth concluded.

"Mr. Malfoy also has to consent to be part of this program," Hermione pointed out.

"Do not worry, we will consult with him." Almost like he was not in the same division as they all were.

Hermione had been given five days to prepare herself. Her apartment had two rooms - but one had been turned into her office. Filled with books around the most modern-looking desk she had been able to find, with her laptop on top of it. A mix between her two worlds, given the magical items that also rested on some shelves.

Draco's room would be in her office or in her living room. And frankly, she did not want to think about waking up and seeing him first thing in the morning, sprawled in her couch. Because of that, her desk had been pushed against a wall and her laptop had been moved to her bedroom - although Draco was surely not able to work with one, and do god knows whatever he would do, she still felt safer having the device closer to her.

She had even bought a bed and a wardrobe for him. As for the bathroom - she only had one and Hermione had no idea how Draco would want to organize his things. His personal things. Gods, Hermione was about to share her apartment with Draco bloody Malfoy. His toothbrush would be in her bathroom. She shook her head - what was she thinking? Surely Draco did not brush his teeth like she did. He would use his wand like every wizard around the world.

Someone knocked on her door, which made her jump on the spot. They had probably Apparated in the building because she hadn't seen anyone on the street that looked like Draco - his hair would give him away, she was sure of it. And she also had no fireplace to use Floo powder. Hermione moved, feeling her legs heavy with dread. She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. Opening the door, she saw Draco dressed all in black with three big bags floating around him. Two Aurors were flanking him. She had just a few seconds to feel attacked by the way Draco eyed her apartment in disgust before she moved his bags inside, afraid that someone would see how they were floating.

"Good evening, Miss Granger," one of the Aurors greeted her.

Draco stepped in and the same Auror that had spoken summoned a document between them. Hermione huffed.

"Good evening gentlemen," she started. "Please do come in."

Don't just stand there, was what she actually wanted to say. Completely oblivious - the Ministry did not even care to check the address she had provided. They were surrounded by Muggles, now tucked inside their houses, that would flee at the sigh of a flying parchment.

Once they were inside, Hermione closed the door and picked up the document. It was an NDA that she would have to sign. It also looked like a delivery receipt, where she would confirm that, on the evening of the 5th of October, she had accepted her package: Draco Malfoy. She had already read that document before when the Ministry had summoned her to organize the beginning of the program. But she read it again, just in case. Nothing new had been added.

And now it came the scary part.

The Auror took his wand out and eyed both Draco and Hermione. She cleared her throat and reached her hand to Draco, who also did it with some trepidation. His hand enveloped her arm as hers did the same with his arm. She almost expected this to sting.

"Will you, Draco Malfoy, swear to do no harm to Hermione Granger and respect her household?" the Auror asked.

"I will," Draco replied with a gruff voice.

"And will you, to the best of your ability, abide by the rules of this rehabilitation program?"

"I will."

The thin tongue of brilliant flames shone brighter against their arms and hands, finally vanishing and leaving red marks where it had touched their skin - these would disappear in a few hours. Hermione used the same hand to sign the document, which was tucked inside the Auror's robes afterward.

"Brilliant," said the Auror. It looked like a big weight had been removed from his shoulders. The other Auror kept silent. "Look for our owls. We will be checking in every day. If anything out of the ordinary happens, just flip the stone between your fingers."

The blandest necklace that would ever exist in London was delivered to Hermione and she nodded. She would have to use it daily. The Auror tipped his hat at her and they both left, closing the door behind them. She turned to Draco, who was still standing in the same place, stiff as a board. She looked everywhere except his eyes while she moved a stray lock of her hair out of her forehead. She had planned an entire speech for him once he arrived. But her mind was blank.

"You can skip the pleasantries, Granger," Draco said dryly. "Not that there is anything pleasant around here."

He looked around and she narrowed her eyes. Maybe it was time he learned a lesson.