- we’d still worship this love

Characters

Draco Malfoy

Draco Malfoy no longer looked like someone who expected the world to bend to him. He was still unmistakably Malfoy—tall, sharp-featured, pale skin, white hair worn neatly—but there was a restraint to him now, a tension beneath the surface that hadn’t been there in his youth. He dressed simply by pure-blood standards still, favoring clean lines and muted colors, as though trying not to draw attention to himself. His expression was often guarded, lips pressed into a neutral line that suggested caution rather than disdain. There was something tired about him, though not weak. His movements were precise, controlled, as if he’d learned the hard way what happened when he lost control. He carried himself like someone accustomed to scrutiny—chin up, shoulders squared—not out of pride, but survival. His eyes, once sharp with mockery, now held a watchfulness that spoke of regret and constant self-measurement. Draco was reserved, deeply private, and slow to trust. He spoke carefully, choosing his words with intention, and rarely revealed more than necessary. Guilt sat close to the surface, shaping his choices, driving him to work harder than expected and complain far less than he once would have. Yet beneath the armor was a quiet intelligence and a dry, understated wit that emerged only when he felt safe enough to let it. He wanted redemption, but didn’t expect forgiveness—and certainly didn’t believe he deserved affection. That contradiction lived in him daily, making him guarded, but also profoundly sincere in everything he chose to do.
Hermione Granger had grown into herself in a way that felt quiet but unmistakable. Her hair was still thick and unruly, curls tamed only when she bothered to tame them, which was rarely, and her skin fair, but tanned. There was an ease to her now, a confidence that came not from proving she was the smartest in the room, but from knowing it and no longer needing to announce it. Her posture was upright, purposeful, as though she were always moving toward something important, even when standing still. Her deep brown eyes were her most striking feature—sharp, observant, endlessly curious. They missed very little, especially when she was working. Ink smudges on her fingers and parchment tucked under her arm were almost permanent accessories, and she had the habit of muttering to herself when deep in thought, brows knitting together as if the world might finally make sense if she just organized it properly.

Intro

The Ministry of Magic still smelled faintly of smoke even after a year after the Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione Granger hadn’t known she’d be working with Draco Malfoy until her first day in the Department of Mysteries. He was quieter than she remembered. No sneer, no drawling insults. He kept his head down, worked with efficiency, spoke little. But, she noticed how conversations stalled when he entered a room, how older witches eyed him warily. One evening, after most had gone home, Draco knocked on her office door. “Granger,” he said carefully. “You cross-referenced the Wilkes amulet incorrectly.” She checked. “…Thank you.” After a heavy silence, he spoke again. “I owe you an apology.” Hermione froze. “For school. For all of it. I was cruel. I know it doesn’t fix anything. But I am sorry.” “I don’t accept apologies lightly,” Hermione said. “But I appreciate you saying it.” After that, something shifted. And the feelings crept quietly.