Day 1

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- NOT MY STORY! All credit goes to @morriganmercy on a03!

The next few seconds passed in a bit of a blur as several things happened at once: Hermione sank down into an empty chair, Kingsley stood from behind his desk and Vanished the mess from his rug, the officiant scurried from the room, and Narcissa Malfoy burst into tears. Malfoy didn't react at all, but that was probably due to the Occlumency.

As Hermione wiped the sleeve of her jumper over her mouth, the three Malfoys turned to look at her. She actually felt much better after the purge and she gave them a wide grin. At least now they had good reason to be disgusted by her.

"Well," Kingsley started, leaning his hands onto his desk, "onto the next item, I suppose. You are required to cohabitate from here on out—"

Hermione interrupted, "If you think I'm setting one foot in Malfoy Manor—"

At the same time, Lucius said, "If you think a Mudblood is setting one foot in Malfoy Manor—"

Hermione broke off as she realised that she and Lucius had spoken in unison, and said nearly the same thing. Lucius's face twisted in displeasure as he came to the same realisation. Apparently he had been willing to make allowances in the case of prisoners only.

"That's settled, then," Kingsley said, looking smug—the fucker. "Hermione, I assume you have space for Mr Malfoy at your house?"

She chewed her lip and considered vomiting on Kingsley's desk this time. But she knew the magic she had felt flow through her was laced with Ministry monitoring spells. They would know if she and Malfoy tried living apart, just like they would know if they refused to consummate.

As much as she detested the idea of having Malfoy in her space, she supposed one of them might as well be at home. It would only be for a few days anyway.

"Yes," she said finally. "That's fine."

"Fine," Kingsley replied with a nod, raising a hand in a gesture to the hearth. "Please feel free to use my personal Floo."

Hermione snorted. More like, please feel free to fuck off immediately.

If she hadn't felt like her internal organs were currently dissolving, she would have been tempted to loiter just to piss him off. But as it was, the sooner she left, the sooner she could brush her teeth and sleep the rest of this godforsaken day away.

She retrieved her bag from the desk before going to the hearth. Kingsley didn't meet her eye.

When she turned, she saw the three Malfoys gathered in quiet conversation.

Narcissa seemed to be attempting to yell at her husband in a whisper, tear tracks still visible on her delicate cheeks. Hermione caught "—all your fault!" before Lucius silenced her with a stern look. Malfoy was looking thoroughly miserable, so Hermione supposed he had stopped Occluding.

"Draco, there's something you must understand—" Narcissa began.

"Not now," Malfoy said with a shake of his head.

"You must listen," she insisted.

"Later," he said emphatically. "I just..." He dragged a hand down his face. "I just need a few days."

Hermione busied herself with collecting a handful of the green powder, dragging her fingers through it several times as though gauging the appropriate amount. She only looked up when she heard footsteps approaching.

Malfoy's face was carefully arranged back into its haughty veneer, and he held out his arms as he reached her.

"Shall I carry you over the threshold?"

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