In These Silent Days

Chapter 5

TRIGGER WARNING for this chapter: there is a brief mention of sexual assault in one of Hermione's thoughts about the marriage law (no characters in this story experience SA).

Saturday evenings are what Hermione refers to—mentally—as "free evenings."

Every Saturday night, Draco dines with his parents then visits with his friends. From the very start, Draco has invited her along:

"I'm off to the Manor for dinner with my parents," he always announces. "Would you like to join us?"

The first time he asks, she flatly declines. She has every time since.

Then Draco will follow up with: "I'll be visiting friends after. I suppose I'll see you later."

She waves him off and uses these "free evenings" to go spend time with her own friends. Hermione neither knows nor cares what Draco gets up to or who he sees. All she knows is he never stays out much later than her, apparating back not two minutes after her every time.

Hermione divvies her time between her friends' places. Sometimes they go to Harry and Ginny's if they can't find a sitter. Or to Ron and Luna's cottage. Neville and Hannah's home. The Burrow. Rarely, they'll wind up at a lesser-known pub or try for a night out in the Muggle world. But Hermione's press paranoia hardly lets her unwind on these outings and she prefers nights in instead.

The looming dread of what the papers would print if she were photographed out on the town without her husband increases as the weeks pass. She wonders how much longer they can delay a public appearance together.

Because this—whatever it is they have—is generally working. A peaceful détente in his home, the nosiness from colleagues has dissipated, and since her friends have visited the flat a few times, their angry protests at the arrangement have dimmed, too.

Draco is a background, peripheral player in her daily life, but Hermione knows she's only one curious reporter away from losing this status quo.

Draco himself hasn't seemed keen to change up their dynamic either. Grateful for the space he gives her, Hermione now softens her Malfoy Manor refusals. Though, on this particular day, her conscience decides to add a twinge of guilt, too.

"Would you like to join us?"

"Thank you for the invitation, but no. I'm off to Harry and Ginny's for dinner."

And instead of his next usual, scripted response, Draco pauses after fastening his cloak. "I would never make you attend. But you are always welcome."

"Even with my blood?" Her question isn't a rude one, in her opinion, but a practical one.

"You are my wife and you are welcome wherever I go."

He doesn't wait for a reply, but apparates away after such a statement. A walloping Bludger of a pronouncement.

Until that moment, he's felt like an amiable flatmate. A platonic bed partner.

But in the eyes of the law and the general public, she is his wife. Draco's parting words mangle her concentration for the rest of the night. Distraction rules over her during conversations with friends, as she absently holds baby James, as she picks at dinner and barely touches her wine.

Luna is the only one to notice as Hermione takes an early leave.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Just work stuff," Hermione says and gives her a brief hug.

"No nargles?"

"No, Luna. Nargle-free for now."

Luna holds her gaze for a long, truth-seeking moment. "You are especially resistant to their influence. But that doesn't mean they don't affect you from time to time."