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Chapter Text

"Mum, we're ready for bed!" "Yes, Mum, can you hurry up already?"

"Are you, darlings? Mummy will be here soon.  Aspen and Olive, go sit with the twins." Hermione nudged the family Pigmy Puffs towards their door. 

Smiling, Hermione stepped into the softly-lit room to survey the pillow fort her daughters had made on the floor.  With a soft huff she flopped down between the two on her designated cushion and wrapped her arms around them, squeezing until they were squealing with delight.

"Mum~!" Aurelia giggled. Seren leaned into Hermione and asked, "When is Daddy coming home?"

"Your father has to work a bit later tonight BUT-" Her voice raised above the girls' groans. "-he will be here tomorrow in time for Christmas morning. Now, why don't you tell me which story you both want to hear?"

"What about the one with the twelve moments of caring?" A drawl floated towards them, and Hermione looked up to see Scorpius padding towards them. She loosened her grip around the girls and reached for him.

"What a lovely idea. And you're joining us, of course?"

"Of course...Mum." His adolescent voice lilted the way his father's had at that age, and her eyes sparkled

xxx

Draco quietly crept up the stairs in their home and stayed in the hallway, hidden by the mostly-closed door.  He smirked at Hermione's gentle voice as the story lulled him back to his childhood memories.  

"Oh!" Hermione gasped as she accidentally bumped into a solid body, the books in her hands falling to the floor as she fell backwards.  It was just before the Christmas holidays, and she'd spent several nights doing research in the library trying to find information about Nicholas Flamel.

"Watch where you're going there!" A scornful voice in front of her sounded. She pursed her lips and brushed her hair out of her eyes to see, yes. Of course.

"Malfoy."

"Granger." He sneered at her.  They'd never really spoken socially, though she'd heard the cruel whispers from Slytherin first-years during their shared lessons. She already felt out of place, being a Muggle amongst some witches and wizards who had been around magic their whole lives.

Draco surveyed the first year who always hung around Potter, now sat on the floor with her books tumbled around her like a swotty little mess. Hmph. The only reason he knew her name was because Professor Snape and the rest called on her so much that it was permanently drilled into his head.  His eyes scanned her from head to toe in disbelief that this, this, this thing could be outdoing him in every class.

Hermione slowly picked up her books before straightening up.  Sticking out her hand, she summoned her Gryffindor courage. "It's Hermione, Draco. Not Granger."

Draco stared at her hand skeptically for a moment as his friends tittered next to him. Hearing their sniggers, he quickly stood up without her help and fastened his signature smirk on his face.

"And why would I ever call you that?"

Hermione put her hand down as she pondered the question, knowing it wasn't made in good faith. After a moment, she grinned. "Tell you what.  If I get top marks on the next Charms quiz, you have to call me Hermione.  If not, you can call me Granger again."

Draco scoffed and looked over his shoulder at his friends. "What kind of reward is that? If I win..." He looked her up and down again before sneering.

"If I win, you need to wear Slytherin green to the next Slytherin-Gryffindor Quidditch game." Knowing that dearest Potter would be playing, Draco smirked at the idea of his pathetic lackey wearing the house colours for the opposite team.

"Deal. Shake on it?" Hermione stuck out her hand again boldly.  Draco looked at her hand with obvious disdain and whirled around to walk away, leaving her with her hand out in the middle of the hallway.  With a sigh and a shake of her head, Hermione ran towards the Great Hall, dropping the tomes she'd found in the library onto the table next to Harry and Ron as they played wizards chess.

"Many of you did extraordinarily well in the latest Charms quiz! I'm happy to see that so many of you picked up both the Locking and Unlocking charms so quickly!"  

Hermione straightened up slightly as Professor Flitwick began the class by tapping a stack of grading papers on his desk.  Her eyes flickered to the left to where Draco and his cronies were sitting, and noticed that he had stilled in his seat as well. Good, he remembers. A shiver of anticipation ran through her body and she bit her lip as she waited for the professor to hand out the class results.   

"As usual, I'll announce the top 5 in the class, awarding each 5 House points." Hermione's hands clenched under the desk and she bit her lip.  Here goes nothing.

Draco fought the urge to shush Crabbe and Goyle as they jostled each other while snickering. Idiots. They'd clearly forgotten what the Granger girl had challenged him to last week in the hallway. No matter, he would draw their attention to his obvious win when the stupid professor finally got around to handing out the marks.

"First place, we have..." Professor Flitwick shuffled his papers noisily, unaware of how unusually quiet his front row had become.  Even Harry and Ron had quieted down after some pointed looks and elbowing from Hermione.

"Ah, there we go! Miss Granger, top marks.  Well done, Miss Granger, well done indeed. Five points to Gryffindor, with a final mark of 97%." Hermione's heart fluttered with glee as she watched the paper with her grade float towards her.  She'd done it!

"A very close second, Mr. Malfoy with 96%, very well done as well Mr. Malfoy.  Second place goes to you, and with it, 5 points to Slytherin." Flitwick floated Draco's paper towards his desk.  Draco nearly snarled as he snatched his paper out from the air, glaring down at it.  1 mark, 1 mark?! 

"Well done, Hermione!" Potter's gleeful voice floated over to Draco's ears and he scowled as she looked up to see the stupid Granger girl being patted on the back like a dog. Just then, their eyes met, and his scowl deepened. If she thinks... His thoughts trailed off as she flashed him a shy but triumphant smile and mouthed "Good job!"  An odd feeling settled in his chest before he turned away.

Weeks went by.  Between learning about Fluffy, the encounter Harry had with You-Know-Who in the Forbidden Forest, and planning to retrieve the Philosopher's Stone in an effort to keep it away from dark forces, Hermione understandably forgot about the challenge.  The school year ended abruptly with the cursing of Neville and the trio's descent into the bowels of the school.  Though it all turned out well, it wasn't until the final Great Banquet that Hermione remembered the challenge.

Looking over her shoulder, her eyes quickly landed on Malfoy's bright blond hair at the Slytherin table, scowling with the rest of his House at the fact that they'd lost the House Cup thanks to Harry and the rest of them.  She sighed inwardly as she turned back to the feast and ate her final meal at Hogwarts for the school year.  It was silly that such a thing would make her upset, it was just her name.  She'd only hoped that they'd become better acquainted throughout the year, since it seemed like they would be vying for first place for the rest of their time at Hogwarts. 

It seemed that they both finished their final meal at the same time, though neither noticed the other until they nearly bumped into each other again at the exit of the hall.  Draco eyed the Granger girl suspiciously as she nervously smiled, buoyed by end-of-year festivities. He sighed and inclined his head.

"Hello, Gr-Hermione." He switched at the last second, scowling as he finally made good on their challenge.  He watched her eyes grow wide as she realized, and her cheeks flushed pink with delight.  

"H-Hi..." She stuttered. His chest tingled and he hurriedly walked through the doors as he felt his face heat up in embarrassment.

Hermione smiled as she watched Harry and Ron hug Hagrid one last time before going on ahead to find a cabin to stow her baggage and relax.  She walked down the train, nodding at her new acquaintances before she reached what seemed to be a bottleneck.

"Um, excuse me, some of us would like to go through." She raised her voice as she tried to see around the group.  

Draco sneered at the sound of the Granger girl's voice.  He'd been waiting for her to say something ever since that blasted Charms quiz.  Why hadn't she sought him out, gloated to his face? No, she hadn't mentioned it at all after that moment in the classroom.  Now, he turned to face her, smirking when he noticed her step back slightly.

"Granger." He drawled. "Think you're better than everyone else? You can wait your turn."

"Malfoy." She mirrored his tone. She drew herself up to her fullest height and levelled a stare at him that always seemed to temper Ronald. "I'd like to get through, if I may."

The crowd, which had already begun to disperse as students filed into cabins and got settled, quickly cleared as they stood face to face, neither speaking. Finally, Draco swept his arm out with a sneer. "After you."

Hermione lifted her chin and walked past him. "Thank you...Draco."  She cringed the moment she said it, but she refused to take it back.  She was so caught up in berating herself at her over-familiarity that she missed the way his body stiffened at the sound of his name exiting her lips. She missed the way his eyes stared after her as she walked away.  She even missed the way he ran his hand through his hair.

"My, what do we have here? Shouldn't you be sleeping? Santa's not going to leave you any presents if all of you are up!" Draco burst into the bedroom to his daughters' giggle and a soft "Oh Draco!" from Hermione.  He flashed Scorpius a grin that was mirrored back as he ruffled the boy's hair before squatting down to be engulfed in the twins' hugs.

"Dad!" Aurelia and Seren shrieked, running to him giggling.  After several moments of cuddling and gentle roughhousing with his son, he pried himself from the kids to pull Hermione into a deep kiss, dipping her low.  Hermione gasped against his lips and clung onto his jacket lapel as their children squealed in delight and groaned in disgust. 

"Get a room!" Scorpius scowled not unlike his father used to, and Hermione had to stop herself from dissolving into laughter. 

She glanced up at her husband and gently laid a hand on his chest. "We didn't expect you home for a while yet.  Finished early?"

Draco nodded and kissed the side of her head, inhaling her scent. "Family time is more important. The work will keep." He smiled as they shared a look before he turned back to their kids. "So! Mum told you the first sign of caring, who wants to hear about the second?"

"Me!" Three voices rang out, and Hermione let out an amused laugh.  Draco grinned as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "I may not have gotten you into Slytherin green that first year, but I sure did later, didn't I? And what's more, I got you in far, far, less, too." He smirked as she hushed him and lightly smacked his chest.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, we still have a ways to go before all of that." Hermione blushed, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Chapter Text

Previously:

"So! Mum told you the first sign of caring, who wants to hear about the second?"

"Me!" Three voices rang out, and Hermione let out an amused laugh.  Draco grinned as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. "I may not have gotten you into Slytherin green that first year, but I sure did later, didn't I? And what's more, I got you in far, far , less, too." He smirked as she hushed him and lightly smacked his chest.

"Don't get ahead of yourself, we still have a ways to go before all of that." Hermione blushed, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Scorpius made a disgruntled retching sound next to them, and she cast an amused glance over to him. 

"Gross. Can we get on with the story please?" He'd heard the tale loads of times since they first got together, but still his mind cast to the more memorable years later on.  He looked down and wondered if the twins would be able to rally.  Aurelia's eyelids were starting to drift a little.

Draco peered down at his replica and gently pressed a kiss to Hermione's temple before settling back down on the floor, both of them following him.  He looked around at his family, each forming a link in their little circle, and cast around for the next year's memories.

"Where was I? Ah, right...our second year." His eyes dulled slightly as his mood shifted.  This was the beginning of the hard part.

Draco's chest was abuzz with anticipation as he walked though the train station with Mother and Father.  He hadn't noticed her on the platform, but no doubt he'd see her in the train with Potter and his lackey Weasley.  He frowned as he remembered the embarrassment he'd felt at Flourish & Blotts when his father had said-

"Draco, darling, what are you upset about?" Narcissa fussed over him.  Usually one to accept her fretting, he absent-mindedly swatted her hands away as he turned to his father. 

"Why'd you say that to Her-Granger?" He stumbled over her name, barely concealing it with a sneer.  Lucius looked down at his son, puzzled at both his tone and his question.

"Who?"

"Granger.  At Flourish & Blotts.  Why'd you tell her I'd talked about her?"

Lucius tried to decipher his son's cryptic question for a moment before his eyes caught Narcissa's worried ones. A frown ghosted his lips before he dropped it and looked down at Draco with an expression of disgust. "Now, now, Draco. Don't tell me you...fancy, that, girl."

Draco flinched slightly at the way his father spat out that last word, as if he couldn't imagine associating Hermio-Granger with the word. He quickly schooled his face into a look of disgust mirroring his father's. "Please. She's disgusting, always raising her hand like a swotty little fly."  He tampered the twinge of unease he felt in his stomach. 

A small curl of Lucius' lips formed as he began to relax.  Good, Draco hadn't been corrupted too terribly since entering that godsforsaken school.  Why Narcissa wanted him to go to Hogwarts when Durmstrang was so much more regimented was beyond him, but at least he had some control over the running of the school, given his new position on the Board of Directors. His eyes lifted up to meet Narcissa's again, and he smiled as he saw her expression had eased.  

As they arrived at Draco's train carriage, Lucius stiffly placed a well-intentioned hand on Draco's shoulder and leaned down to speak privately to his son.  "Listen to your teachers, especially Severus.  This year might be a little...interesting for you.  I expect you to act like a Malfoy, and lead your classmates and house to victory both in Quidditch and out.  There will be a time for you to do great things this year.  I expect to hear that you've stepped into that role, do you understand me?"

Draco looked up at his father and nodded, suddenly anxious.  What did he mean? Draco barely heard his mother's parting words before stepping into the train.  He waved goodbye to his parents and made his way into his cabin, briefly wondering where Potter and friends were.

Hermione kept her head on a swivel as she walked up and down the train hall looking for Ron and Harry. Where had they gone? She'd seen Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and their gaggle of children further down the platform, but hadn't seen either of her two friends.  Eyebrows furrowed, she contemplated finding an empty spot in one of the other cabins until they showed up.  Maybe Neville needed help with Trevor again. Her mind was so preoccupied with the thought of finding somewhere to sit that she didn't notice when she brushed against someone coming down the aisle.

Draco saw Hermione ages before they met, her bushy hair swaying like a sentient entity framing her face. He kept his eyes away from hers as an acute awareness of their classmates prickled his senses.  She should be turning away into one of the cabins, why was she walking towards him?  He steeled himself to receive nothing more than a cold shoulder after how his father had embarrassed her, but instead she seemed preoccupied.  He felt her shoulder bump into his and he turned to her, his defenses high as he blurted out sharply.

"Watch where you're going, yeah?" 

Hermione snapped to attention as she looked towards the voice.  She felt the creep of a blush rise up her neck to her cheeks. "Draco..."

He fought the shiver that ran down his spine as he schooled his face into a sneer. "Granger. Patrolling the train? Don't you know second-years can't be prefects?"

Hermione frowned as his embarrassment washed over her, the laughter of his cronies echoing as her eyes sought his.  She found none of the tentative mutual kindness-no, understanding, that they'd had at the end of last year.  They'd left on a first-name basis, but it seemed that that was long gone now.  She bit the inside of her lip and bravely jutted her chin out.

"I don't believe I need your permission to walk through the train, Malfoy. Now, if you'll excuse me." She pushed her way past him and threw open the nearest cabin door, startling Neville who promptly dropped Trevor wetly into his lap.

Hermione could Ron practically vibrating next to her as the Slytherin Quidditch captain gloated, blocking the Gryffindor's team from entering the pitch.  Her eyes scanned the new brooms that each Slytherin member held, and soon the culprit was brought forth.

"...courtesy of our newest seeker." Dra-Malfoy stepped in front with a smirk.

"Malfoy." Ron muttered.  She didn't much care for Quidditch, but even she understood that better equipment equaled better chances of success.  She noticed Malfoy's eyes, cold and unfeeling, glaring at Harry. A flash of anger sparked in her and she crossed her arms tartly.

"At least no one in the Gryffindor team had to buy their way onto the team.  They earned their spots through pure talent." 

Draco's eyes flicked over to her, annoyed that she stood up for dear Potter. He fastened his coldest sneer on his face and hissed. "No one asked you, filthy Mudblood." 

Gasps from the Gryffindor team and sniggers from the Slytherin team barely registered in his ears as he watched her eyes flood with tears. Vaguely he heard the Weasley's attempt at a curse.

"Eat slugs!" A bang came from his broken wand and Ron was sent sprawling backwards.

Draco blinked and forced out a laugh that grew into a real one as he realized what had happened.  He watched Granger and Potter pick up the useless redhead by his arms and run towards the oaf's mud-hut. His chest twisted as Granger threw a glance over her shoulder, but he quashed it and turned back to his new team.  Father would be so proud of him.

Weeks after, Draco pushed through the crowd to see the writing on the wall next to Filch's petrified cat. 

"Enemies of the heir, beware." Draco read out the sentence.  He saw Granger, Potter, and Weasley huddled away from him.  "You're next, mudblood." He kept the taunting tone as he tried not to let the trembling in his body penetrate his voice.  His eyes slid over to Potter briefly and noticed how shaken he looked. Strange. He threw one last look at Granger and shouldered his way through the crowd.  He'd heard all about the "heir of Slytherin" stories, but they were just stories to scare children.  If the stories were true, Granger was in trouble.  He couldn't help the feeling of unease blooming.

“Wait till my father hears about this...” He muttered under his breath.

Screams.  All he could hear was screaming.  It was shrill and unfamiliar but held the tone that he knew so well.  His breath was coming out in small huffs, but he couldn't catch his breath.  His vision blurred as he swayed while standing.  Where were the screams coming from? They were echoing off the walls.  Somebody.  Somebody help her. His vision sharpened and he looked down to see someone on the floor. A girl, wild bushy hair, struggling as she shrieked.  Her body writhed against the serpents wrapped around her. Hissing mingled with her screams and he dropped to the floor as he watched helplessly.  Where was his wand? What could he do? The serpents paused for a moment. A shadowy figure flowed out from nowhere.

"Kill the Mudblood." The voice sounded like the snakes, like how he imagined Parseltongue sounded.  Draco watched the serpents strike viciously at the girl, her screams turning to strangled gurgles.  He sobbed as he sat frozen in place. Finally done with their attacks, the snakes loosened their grip on the girl and slithered away.  Her body rolled to face him and he finally recognized her.

"A Mudblood, isn't she? You branded her that. Look at your Mudblood ." The faceless voice hissed in his ear as he stared at Hermione's broken and mangled body.

Draco bolted upright, a scream clawing at his throat wanting to come out as tears poured from his eyes. He curled into his knees and folded his arms over his head as he sobbed into the silver satin sheets of the Slytherin dormitories.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry." He whisper-sobbed as he felt waves of guilt wash over him at the memory of Gran-no, Hermione, laying on the floor with blood pouring from slashes all over.  His helplessness at her plight sank in and he kept whispering apologies until he sank back into a fitful sleep.

"Do you really think it could be Malfoy?" Ron asked for the umpteenth time and Hermione sighed in frustration as she stirred the Polyjuice potion. 

"It's a bit late to be asking that now, don't you think, Ronald?" He and Harry had just nabbed Crabbe and Goyle's hair after drugging them with Sleeping Draught inside cupcakes.

He muttered indistinctly but her mind was already elsewhere.  She didn't think Malfoy could have done it, but Harry was positive it was him.  Besides, he had called him out that first night.  She bit her lip and frowned at the potion as she recalled the sinking feeling it had given her. Putting her feelings aside, she poured the potion into 3 goblets and sprinkled Millicent Bulstrode's hair into hers.  Instructing them to drink theirs, she held her breath and chugged her potion.  After a brief moment of fighting the inevitable, she ran to the stalls and dry-heaved into the loo. 

"Did you hear? Granger is in the hospital after turning into a cat! How do you think she'd managed to do that?" Pansy cackled in her seat by the Slytherin common room fireplace, and Draco frowned slightly. What were the Gryffidiots doing?

With the attacks, and Potter speaking Parseltongue, Draco was unsettled like everyone else.  There was a sense of unease throughout most of the school, but in Slytherin it was more of a sense of anticipation, like the House knew that their time was coming. He wondered yet again who the heir was.  Befriending someone like that was exactly the type of thing his father would want him to do.  This person was important, powerful.  Draco prodded at the faint sick feeling he had developed after his nightmare.  He'd all but quashed the idea of befriending the heir and asking them to spare Granger. No, that would besmirch the Malfoy name, shielding a Mud-Muggle like that. He winced inwardly.  It was up to him to protect the stupid swot. He wondered how he'd cover it up if his parents ever found out.

His books and parchment dropped to the ground from his hands.  He ignored Theo's "What's wrong with you, mate?" and stepped over the pile of papers.

"What did you say?"

Blaise's eyes slide over to Draco's and he appraised the young Malfoy.  He shrugged impassively. "Granger's in the hospital.  Petrified.  I heard McGonagall telling Potter and Weasley."

Draco forced his body back into fluid movement as he turned back to pick up his books.  He clenched his hands into fists when they shook in front of him, and he thanked Salazar that his body hid them from view. Straightening up, he pushed extra feeling into his contemptuous leer.

"Serves her right."  The sick feeling twisted his gut but he kept his face steady.

He observed Potter and Weasley darting from class to the hospital every day.  He itched to see her for himself, but he couldn't with them watching her so closely.  He tried to catch their conversations but never caught more than a few words.  Something about a mirror? She'd never seemed vain like some of the other Gryffindor girls, it seemed unlikely that she was attacked because of such carelessness. 

Finally, he found his moment one evening just before curfew.  He shook off the Slytherin boys by claiming to want to send a letter to his parents about the abysmal state of the school.  He waited a few moments before darting towards the hospital wing.  He hid from the clueless Lockhart as he patrolled the halls, and barely made it past a raving-mad Peeves on his way to torment Moaning Myrtle before finally skittering to a halt in front of the hospital wing doors.  He took in a deep breath to calm himself and tried to quietly push the doors open.

His eyes roved around the elongated room.  He barely paid attention to that brainless Creevey boy and ignored Finch-Fletchley before he finally found her.  Her eyes were open- why were her eyes open? He frowned as he wavered between closing her eyes and leaving them open.  Madame Pomfrey knew best, but he couldn't help but wonder if she could see everything happening around her simply because her eyes were open.  Finally, he passed his hand over her eyes and gently prodded them closed before sinking down in the chair next to her bed.   

Looking at her, there was so much he wanted to say, but he had no idea how.  How did he tell her how angry he was at her for getting caught by the monster?  How did he tell her how relieved he was that she hadn't been killed?  How did he explain to her that he was-

"Sorry.." He whispered.  His eyes gazed at the way the moonlight lit her face. A tightening in his chest made him drop his gaze down to his lap as he muttered it again. "I'm sorry..." His fingers clenched on his thighs as he screwed his face up.   What was this?  A Malfoy, apologizing to anyone, much less a Mudb-Muggle, was unheard of. And yet...

"Mr. Malfoy." 

Draco's eyes snapped open and his face lifted quickly.  He stood up hastily, the chair skidding on the floor, as Snape flowed into the spot next to Hermione opposite his own.  Snape raised an eyebrow as he looked down his hooked nose at the blond boy from his house.

"I dislike deducting House points from my own house but I will if I must." He said drily as he waited for a response.

Draco blanched at Snape's tone and stammered. "N-no, sir.  I was just-that is, I-she-I mean, I only wanted to-"

"Enough." Snape raised his hand to stop Draco's rambling, and the boy fell silent.  Interesting.  Snape's eyes slid over to the Granger girl laying between them.  Not looking back at his charge, he produced a potion from his pocket and began to unstopper it.

"Sir?"

"Antidote for the bedsores she is likely to develop from being in one position.  This keeps her blood flowing." Snape dripped the potion into Hermione's lips and gently massaged her throat.  He retrieved a second potion and unstoppered it. "This one is for muscle soreness." Draco watched silently until Snape straightened up.

Snape turned away from Draco but paused before leaving. "She doesn't require round the clock attention, Mr. Malfoy. Ensure that you go back to the dorms before another teacher catches you.  These are dark days." Though you likely have nothing to worry about.

Draco nodded at Snape's back and after a moment, Snape glided out out of the hospital wing. Watching him go, Draco stood motionless until the doors closed.  He glanced down at Hermione and hesitantly reached out to grasp her upright hand. Her fingers felt warm under his touch.

I'll do better.

"I promise, Hermione." He whispered.  He squeezed her fingers one more time before letting go and fleeing back to his room.

"I'm sorry...."

"I promise, Hermione."

Hermione gasped and gulped in air as the last of the Mandrake Draught worked its way into her system.  She blinked in the bright afternoon light and turned her head.

"Wha-what happened?" 

"You were petrified, Miss Granger.  Lay still, the potion's not completely absorbed yet." Snape's clipped voice came from just above her and she blinked at him.  He raised an eyebrow. "No questions? Perhaps we should thank the basilisk for curing you over your insufferable...inquisitiveness." 

"Severus! Come here please, Mr. Finch-Fletchley needs another round of potion.  Quickly please!" Madame Pomfrey called from the other side of the hall, and the dungeon-master swooped away. 

Hermione sat upright and looked around the hospital wing.  Colin waved cheerily at her from two beds away, and she lifted her hand up to wave back.  A strange niggling in her head caused her to look around in confusion.  She thought she'd heard a voice just before she was revived.  Who was it?  She shook her head after a few moments, gasping. 

"Oh no! I've missed so much class? I'll never pass my final examinations now!" She swung her legs over the side of the bed to see if she had enough strength to get up. Seeing that she could, she grabbed her wand from the bedside table and ran out of the wing, quickly yelling out a word of thanks to Madame Pomfrey as she struggled to hold Justin still as Snape very-nearly waterboarded the poor boy.

"Look!" Ron yelled out and pointed at the Great Hall, and Harry turned to see a disheveled but very un-petrified Hermione walking into the hall.  They stood up and waved at her. 

Joy flourished in her chest and she sprinted towards her two friends.  Harry opened his arms and she immediately ran into them, nearly bowling him over with her strength.  Her eyes drifted over to the Slytherin table and she noticed Malfoy staring at her, slightly pink in his cheeks.  She closed her eyes and squeezed Harry tightly before letting him go and turning to Ron.  They hesitated awkwardly and she contemplated giving him a brotherly pat on his shoulder before finally settling for nothing.

"Good to have you back, Hermione." Ron said fondly, and Hermione smiled shyly.  

"It's good to be back, Ron. Did I miss much?"

"Loads. It just wasn't the same without you." Harry said seriously.  They climbed back into their seats and began to tuck in.

Draco watched Hermione chatting happily with her friends and a faint note of relief quelled his jealousy from seeing her hug Potter. He quickly turned back to his plate and tuned into the conversations around him, berating himself for being useless.  Who knew the Weaslette would be the heir? And of course, Potter had to be the one to save the day.  Draco fisted his napkin in his hand and scowled. His father hadn't been too impressed with him, and now Potter even had the audacity to grant Dobby his freedom.  His elf! The nerve!

His attention drifted back to the Gryffindor table as the oaf entered the Hall.  Disgusting.

"So, what do you reckon they'll end up doing next year?" Nott asked with a disbelieving snort.  Millicent tittered next to Goyle who laughed stupidly. 

"Did you seriously forget? I can't believe it Draco, I told you about it months ago!" 

"Listen, I said I'm sorry, Pansy, what more do you want from me?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as Pansy's shrill voice reached her, but whipped around at the smooth drawl that followed. Was that...?

Draco slammed his cabin door open and stepped out with a sigh as he tried to get away from Pansy. So what if he'd forgotten about their plans to meet up in adjoining French chateaus in August? He rubbed a face over his hand and moved towards the food carriage blindly.  He grunted as he accidentally knocked into someone.

"Oh!" Hermione yelped slightly as Draco pushed into her.

"Sorry." He muttered as he dropped his hand and looked up. Their eyes met and time stilled as they both stared at each other. Hermione scanned his face quickly, shaking her head.

"That's alright."  Hermione's voice came out as a whisper.

Her voice broke the spell on him and he blinked.  She was starting to go past him.  Bugger. Don't. Don't. Don't-

"Good to see you're...yourself again...Hermione." He blurted out, unable to stop himself.  He watched her paused and turn back to him in surprise. Shit.

Did he just call me Hermione? "Th-Thanks...Draco."  She said tentatively, and watched as his eyes lit up for a moment before dimming again to a cool stare.

Draco nodded stiffly and made his way towards the food carriage again.  Hermione walked quickly back to the carriage that she was sharing with Harry and Ron, flopping on the opposite bench seat to theirs.

"You alright there, 'Mione?" Ron mumbled, his mouth stuffed full of candy again.  She grimaced at him and nodded.

"Yes, Ronald, I'm fine.  Why?"

He pointed to her face and gulped down a half-chewed coagulated lump. "Because your face is all red."

She rushed to hide her face by looking out the window as she pressed her fingers to her cheeks. "It's nothing.  Just a bit warm.  Aren't you warm?"

Draco looked solemnly at Hermione over the twins' heads as they finished the joint telling of their second year.  He still remembered that moment of fear when he'd seen her petrified on that hospital bed.  His own mortality wasn't even considered as he fretted over hers.

"Where'd you go?" Hermione squeezed his hand and smiled softly.

Draco smiled back and shook his head. "Just thinking about what a fool I was that year. I'm so so-" He was soundly hushed by her palm as she gave him a look.

"You have more than made up for it.  And besides, if you recall..." She grinned wickedly. "I got to exact some revenge next year, didn't I?"

Draco laughed softly against her palm and she dropped her hand. He took it and pressed a loving kiss to the back of her hand. "You certainly did."

Chapter Text

Previously:

“Oh yes, please tell us the story of how you slapped Father for being rude!” Scorpius grinned cheekily as he moved to lean against Draco's chest. Seren squealed in laughter as she watched Olive bump into Aspen in an effort to get into her arms first.

Draco's stomach flipped as he remembered third year. His hand drifted to his old injury, Hermione's eyes softening as she watched him. She put on her best Gryffindor smirk and quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Do you want to get started or should I?”

Draco gestured for her to continue, answering her with a mock flourish. “Ladies first.”

Hermione hastily stashed away her newly-borrowed Time Turner as she made her way to meet Harry and Ron. Professor McGonagall had drilled into her the importance of secrecy, and she'd sworn to both her and Professor Dumbledore (and herself!) that she would not let them down. Her mind whirled at the horrible outcomes she'd read about in books, and she shuddered at the memories.

Patting Crookshanks affectionately on her way out of the Gryffindor common room, she made her way to the Potions classroom. At least she wouldn't need to worry about using the Time-Turner until the afternoon. She hurried into the dungeons and tried to silently slip into a seat when Professor Snape's back was turned, yet he was onto her in a flash.

“Late to class on the first day? 10 points from Gryffindor, and you can thank Miss Granger for that.” Professor Snape's voice hovered barely over a whisper even with his back turned yet it carried over the grumblings of her classmates, and Hermione cringed in her seat as the Slytherins snickered. Ignoring everyone, Professor Snape turned and continued to pace as he lectured the class on the research that led to the identification of moonstone as a primary ingredient in Wolfsbane potion. Hermione began jotting down notes, her fingers smudging the ink onto her parchment.

As class came to a close, Hermione began to pack up her things, careful not to smudge her ink-stained fingertips onto her schoolbag.

“Stay back, Miss Granger.”

Hermione's head snapped up at the sound of Professor Snape's voice, followed by a lot of “ooh”s. Rolling her eyes, she grimaced at the Slytherins and made her way to the front of the class, smiling at Harry and Ron when they gave her sympathetic looks. Where was Draco?

“Miss Granger.” Professor Snape's cool tone drew her attention and she steeled herself for whatever remark he'd have for her.

“I'm so sorry I was late, Professor. I was heading back from seeing Professor Dumbledore and-”

“I do not need your excuses, Miss Granger.” Snape spoke over her, effectively silencing her. “I know why you were meeting with the Headmaster. Needless to say, I think it is pointless to give you an opportunity to become even more of a swot than you currently are-” Hermione opened her mouth but Snape ignored her. “-however, it is the Headmaster's decision to do so. I will advise you not to be late to my classes again, or you will lose more points for your House. Time-Turner or not. Is that understood?”

Hermione nodded glumly.

“Dismissed.”

She quickly grabbed her schoolbag and made to exit the dungeon before pausing at the door.

“Professor...”

“What is it, Miss Granger?” Snape snapped, not looking up from his next class' lesson plan.

“If you knew why I was late, why did you remove House points anyway?” Hermione was unable to keep the whine out of her voice. She looked over her shoulder at him, angry when she saw his look back blankly.

“Were you not late to class? Perhaps, since you have it, you can use it to be punctual.” He said coldly. Frustration mounted inside her, and Hermione turned to stomp out of the classroom. Arse.

Draco lingered by the classroom door as he waited for Hermione- no, Granger. Here, she was Granger. She had to be. He tried to look in but was promptly shut out as Snape closed the door with a wave of his wand. Draco scowled and trudged to the rest of the Slytherin group.  Theo patted him on the back and he grinned back cockily.

Hermione froze in place as she finished flicking the Time-Turner one last time, watching the last 2 hours pass her until she was back to 11:15 a.m. Perfect. She should be just coming out of-yes, there she was. She watched herself scurry to Ancient Runes right on schedule and headed in the opposite direction towards the Astronomy tower. Skirting her House mates and keeping her head down, she made her way up to the Divination classroom, silently slipping onto the stool between Harry and Ron.

“How'd you do that?” Ron asked.

Hermione smoothed her hair out of her face hurriedly. “Do what?”

“You were just there-” He pointed back to the door. “-and now you're there...” He pointed blankly at her.

She raised an eyebrow at him and quickly made an excuse. This was going to be a long year...

Draco narrowed his eyes as he watched Granger brush off the Weasley twit. He was sure she hadn't been part of the group to enter and yet, there she was.

"Hey look, Potter. A Dementor!" Draco whisper-yelled at Harry, who scowled and bent his head down.  Ron shot Draco a crude hand gesture, earning a reduction of 5 points from Gryffindor by Professor McGonagall.

"Ignore him, mate.  Prat thinks he's a comedian."  Ron muttered out of the corner of his lips.  Hermione lifted her eyes to shoot Draco a withering look before continuing scrawl out her final opinions on the setback of witches' rights after the Medieval Witch-Hunts occurred. Groaning inwardly at the fact that Professor Binns had probably forgotten she had an extraordinary workload this year, she hurried to complete this essay before its two-week deadline.

"Hermione, what are you working on so hard? We've only just got back."  Harry furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to make out her handwriting upside down.  

Hermione snatched up her parchment and quickly rolled it up before stuffing it into her bookbag. "You know how many courses I'm taking, Harry.  And we haven't just got back.  For your information, we've been back at Hogwarts for two weeks already."

"Oi, where're you going?" Ron called out as she briskly walked out of the Great Hall, ignoring him.  He turned back to Harry, shaking his head. "She's gone mental, that one.  Why would anyone want more work?"

Hermione's eyes glanced over at the Slytherin table one more time as she walked out, and paused slightly as she searched for Draco.  He was right-

"Granger."

She whipped her head around to find Draco leaning against the wall just outside of the doorframe.

"Draco!" He's back to calling me Granger again...

Draco's eyes glittered as he looked her up and down slowly.  "Good summer?" 

She nodded and crossed her arms against her chest defensively. "It was.  Yours?"  She wondered what purebloods got up to over the summer.  Was it like the muggle royal families, all etiquette and finishing classes?

Draco gave a half-shrug and stood up to walk closer to her.  He just couldn't seem to stop himself from seeking her out. He prowled to her, still hidden by one of the doors. "Can't complain."  The conversation stalled as they awkwardly loitered at the entrance, each unsure of what to say.

"You know..." Hermione said tentatively. "You really shouldn't make fun of Harry.  You think it's easy being who he is?  You've heard the stories of what happened."  She met Draco's eyes.

A wave of guilt came over him and he ran his fingers through his hair sighing. "Oh come off it, Hermione! Potter can handle himself.  And it's not like I'm the only one-"

"No but you're the worst one, Draco!"  She couldn't help herself from stepping towards him, pleadingly. She clung onto the thread of decency she'd felt last year, and earlier. "Please..."

He sighed again and rolled his eyes. "You-" He paused as he heard a familiar guffaw and stiffened. He steeled himself before scornfully spitting out words that made her eyes well up. "You should look out for yourself, Granger.  Look at you, prancing around like you actually deserve to be here. Pathetic."  He watched as Vinny and Greg came out of the Great Hall out of Hermione's view.

"I do belong here." Hermione's voice trembled as she felt tears prick her eyes.  An odd look came over Draco before he drawled.

"No, you don't." He turned and stalked away, his cronies following him like lapdogs. 

Hermione sniffled and wiped her eyes as students began to file out of the Hall. She didn't have time for this.  She had to run to her next class.

Hermione looked around the clearing just behind Hagrid's hut as she waited with trepidation for class to start.  Unlike her other classes, she hadn't managed to open up the Care for Magical Creatures book, so she was quite unprepared. The feeling unsettled her, and she shivered  with anticipation at what creature they'd be studying. Cornish pixies? Professor Lockhart had given them a (rather unrestrained) taste last year in D.A.D.A..  Perhaps Nifflers?  Hermione had read a brief excerpt about them in book on magizoology two summers ago. 

Draco chuckled as he stumbled, pushed from behind by Theo.  Their ribbing continued as he shoved him back cockily.  "Mate, is that the best you can do?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, a dull ache in her chest after his latest barb.  She turned towards Harry and asked, "Where's Hagrid?"

"No idea." He shrugged.

"You reckon he'll be alright? Being a teacher and all."  Ron mumbled worriedly.  Off to the side, Draco was trying to goad Harry by pretending to faint again. Wanker.

Hermione frowned at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Only that he's not exactly conventional." He lowered his voice.  She swallowed hard as he voiced her fear. Shaking her head, she said, "I'm sure he'll be perfectly fine.  Professor Dumbledore would never-"

"Alright then, gather 'round.  Yer'll want to open yer books to to the second chapter." Hagrid strode towards the crowd grinning with a look in his eye that could only mean trouble. Hermione quickly shushed Ron.

"How?" Draco's cool drawl wafted over the general din of their classmates mumbling.

"Waddaya mean, how?" Hagrid looked perplexed, just now seeing his students blinking up at him, confused.  Slowly, everyone produced their textbooks.  Some bound with rope, others (the Muggle-borns) had duct-taped their shut, and still others had clamped the book down with a leather belt.  Hagrid sought out Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but slumped when his eyes landed on their books, bound tightly like the others.  

"Here." He grabbed Hermione's and ripped off her thickly-bandaged book. "Yer s'pposed to stroke the spine, like tha'." He swiped a finger down the spine of the flailing book, immediately causing it to shiver and fall limp in his hands.  He grinned as he tossed the book back to her, who fumbled in an effort not to drop it.  Who knew if she'd be able to open it back up again if the godsforsaken thing closed up.  Slowly, the rest of the class began to open their own books with varying degrees of success.

"Yeh got ter be gentle but firm with them, guys!  Like the actual animals I'll be teaching yeh this year."  Hagrid announced happily, helping poor Ron as his book tore a piece out of his robe.

Draco fished his own flapping book out of his bag. One swipe of his finger, and true to Hagrid's word, the book flopped open. "Oh, we're meant to stroke it.  Why didn't I think of that?" He sneered sarcastically.

"Stuff it, Malfoy."  Harry glared at him. 

"Right, now stay here.  I've got a surprise for you lot." Hagrid briskly walked out of sight, quickly returning with-

"What the bloody hell is that?!" Ron propelled backwards with a yelp, the rest of the class scattering.

"Hippogriffs!"  Hagrid roared happily.   The students tittered as they stared up at the massive beasts.  Hagrid finished tying them to trees before turning back to the class.  "Right.  Who wants to be the first to pet one?" 

Immediately, Hermione scrambled backwards, her heart thumping.  A faint note of sympathy echoed in her as Harry was left to fend for himself. She watched him tentatively reach towards the Hippogriff Buckbeak and quickly whispered, "Careful, Harry!"  She gave him a small encouraging smile as he shot her a glance over his shoulder. 

Draco scowled as Potter once again took centrestage in the classroom.  Snorting derisively, he strode up to the beast as soon as Harry came back from his little flying trip, swaggering slightly for show.  He watched from the corner of his eye as Hermione bit her lip in worry, and he grinned to himself.

"This isn't so hard.  Couldn't be, if precious Potter can do it.  You're not so tough, are you, you great ugly brute?" A glint of talons was all the warning he got before a sharp pain bloomed across his shoulder and arm.  He collapsed to the ground with a gasp as his consciousness narrowed to the fiery pain.  Dimly, he heard Hermione's panic-stricken voice ring clear over their classmates' gasps and shrieks.

"Hagrid! This isn't a small injury! He needs to go to Madame Pomfrey! Now!" Hermione shook like a leaf as she instinctively knelt down next to Draco.

"Get away from him, Mudblood!" Pansy hissed just out of earshot from Hagrid, and Hermione found herself tumbling backwards onto the fallen leaves of the Forest.  

She didn't have even a moment to collect herself and retort back before Hagrid was swooping down and grabbing hold of Draco. "Alright, alright, I've got yeh, boy." Her attention immediately returned to Draco, who was groaning in Hagrid's arms, blood falling in a steady stream from his limp fingertips. 

"My father'll hear about this. You're fired, you great oaf.  You're done!"  Draco moaned, and Hagrid blanched.

He shot a look of despair to Hermione before quickly yelling, "Class dismissed!"

"D'you reckon he'll be alright?" Ron asked Harry, who quickly reminded him of all the injuries Madame Pomfrey had healed for them over the last couple of years.

"I'm going to go see if Draco's alright." Pansy shot a scornful look at them and ran after Hagrid. Hermione felt a twinge of jealousy as she watched the girl run freely.  She wanted to see him too, but it's not like she could have done anything. Besides, he wouldn't want me there.

"That was a really bad thing to happen to Hagrid on his first day.  And to Malfoy too. This is bad." Ron muttered under his breath.  Hermione and Harry shared a look that said they agreed, but kept quiet as they walked to Defense together.

Hermione anxiously waited for Pansy to turn up again but she was so distracted by how interesting Defense class could be that she'd forgotten about the girl by the time Professor Lupin had produced the wardrobe holding the Boggart.  A thrill of excitement sparked as she waited for her turn to try and defeat it.  Biting back a giggle at some of the fears (poor Neville and his fear of Professor Snape), she finally made her way to the front of the classroom.

Professor Lupin shuffled his attendance papers. "Your name, miss?"

"Granger, sir.  Hermione Granger." 

He smiled warmly and nodded. "Pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger.  Wand at the ready. 3, 2, 1." He tugged the cloth off of the boggart and she took a deep breath.  How was it going to transform an abstract fear? Hers was a fear of failure, of course.

The class hushed as they waited for it to reveal itself.  Her heart thumped in her chest and she felt a tingle of anticipation at her fingertips grasping her wand.  Her eyes widened as she saw the boggart reveal itself as her greatest fear.

A shriek threatened to burst out of her lips as she saw bodies strewn in front of her, dead.  An incorporeal voice echoed in the room, caused gasps and whimpers from her classmates. "Dead. All dead, because you couldn't save them.  A failure.  Always a failure."

Hermione's eyes scanned the mangled corpses in front of her. She recognized some.  Her parents.  Ronald.  Harry. And then... Fuck. Draco's signature blond hair glinted in the dusty sunlight, flecked with blood.  His face was turned away, but he was immediately recognizable.  Bile began to force its way out of her stomach as she felt nauseated.

"No...no."  A choking sob escaped and she covered her mouth as tears welled in her eyes.  Faintly, she heard Harry and Ron murmuring behind her but how could they when they were laying at her feet?

"Miss Granger."  Professor Lupin's voice floated into her head, and slowly the mist began to clear from her head. "Remember the spell."  His soothing voice grounded her, and she lifted her wand again.

"R-riddikulus..."  Her voice cracked, and the vision barely rippled.

"Again, Miss Granger."

"Come on, Hermione." Harry and Ron's voices strengthened her, the other Gryffindors muttering words of encouragement as well. She steeled herself and tried again.

"Riddikulus!"  Immediately the scene rippled. A chuckle rippled through the classroom that turned into peals of laughter as her classmates saw the new scene.

Hermione grinned as she watched vision- Ron, Harry, and Neville get up and start doing an Irish jig.  It was a modified version of a play her Muggle preschool class had performed for her parents.  She wiped the tears from her eyes and gratefully smiled at Professor Lupin, who smiled back.  

"Chocolate?" He pressed a piece to her hand as she began to make her way to the back of the class.  She nodded and took it from him.

"Thank you, sir."

"That was a difficult one to fight.  You did well, Miss Granger."  Remus spoke softly, one eye on the next student as they stepped up to face the boggart.  Hermione blushed and looked down.

"Thank you for reminding me of the spell, sir."  A lump formed in her throat and she played with the hem of her sleeve.  

"That's my job, after all." 

Remus' attention was quickly diverted when Harry stepped up to face the boggart, a dementor floating towards him.  Immediately, pandemonium fell and the class was dismissed as Remus tried to revive Harry.  Worriedly, Hermione wanted to stay back to make sure that he was alright, but Ron was tugging at her arm for dinner and Professor Lupin was waving her off with a vague note of reassurance that Harry would be fine.

"Alright alright, I'm coming Ronald."  

Pansy's eyes went wide at the sight of Granger's boggart.  She had just slipped into the classroom with a late note from Madame Pomfrey. Was that Draco?  She filed away the interesting bit of information for later pondering.  She hadn't recognized any of the other "bodies" as Slytherins.  She scowled at the growing puzzle that was forming in front of her.

Hermione nibbled at the end of her quill, sputtered absentmindedly as pieces of feather stuck in her mouth.

"Whatcha thinkin' about, 'Mione?" Ron asked from across the table.  They were in the Great Hall finishing up dessert, though she'd barely eaten her dinner.

She shrugged and continued staring vacantly at her plate.  Ron gave a look to Seamus who grinned mischievously and dropped a harmless but chaotic sparkling bomb next to her plate.  They roared in laughter as she shrieked in surprise.

"Ronald!"

"It wasn't me!"  Ron grinned.  Eventually, even Hermione had to giggle and she shot a smile towards Seamus, who grinned back.

"Cheer up, Hermione.  It'll be alright." His thick accent warmed her and she relaxed slightly.  She finished up her dinner and stood up to leave.

"Leaving so soon?" Neville asked over his treacle tart. 

Hermione nodded and sighed.  "I need to get some studying done before bed if I'm ever going to be ready for my Muggle Studies quiz tomorrow."

Imagine taking Muggle Studies as an elective when you're already a muggle.  Bet she could teach the class herself!" Ron muttered to Harry, who laughed at the joke.  

Leaving the Great Hall, Hermione glanced at the large clock above the doors before exiting.  Good.  If I stay until the library closes, that's 2 hours of extra studying.  I wonder if Madame Pince will let me stay longer if I'm quiet.  She walked quickly to the library, already planning her studying session.

"Miss Granger.  Miss Granger!"  Hermione's head snapped up as she finished completing her revision on the current chapter.  Madame Pince stood in front of her, tapping her foot with a hand on her hip.

"Do you know what time it is?" Madame Pince asked in a clipped voice.  Hermione scanned around for a clock before shaking her head. The librarian sighed. "It's closing time, Miss Granger.  Off to the Gryffindor Towers, if you please.  No dawdling."

Hermione opened her mouth to argue but one look from the older woman and she quickly shut it and began to pack.  She glanced out the window to see the moon illuminating the Quidditch pitch.  She wondered if the boys were asleep already, or if she'd find them in the common room waiting for her.  She swung her bookbag over her shoulder and quickly left the library under the scrutinizing eye of the librarian. As she turned towards the Gryffindor tower, she paused in her step.  To the left were the stairs that would lead up to the tower. To the right was a hallway leading to the Hospital wing.  She bit her lip in contemplation before muttering a soft bugger and turned right.

Entering the hospital wing, Hermione tried to make out the shadowy shapes in beds before her.  She crept silently past empty beds and a sleeping first year before finding what she was looking for.  Draco's lower half was covered in shadows, his body dressed in a gown. Relieved that he seemed to be sleeping, she let her eyes rove over his illuminated face, smooth without the usual frown lines.

Her eyes lingered slightly on his lips but quickly drifted lower as she felt a hot flush rise up in her chest, tingling her cheeks.  It was quickly subdued by a sympathy ache as she saw his bandaged arm.  Glancing down at the trash bin next to him, she could see soiled bandages from a recent change.  They looked drenched She grimaced and looked back at the current dressings covering his arm.  Thankfully, it appeared that the blood had finally started to clot, as she couldn't see any blood soaking through.

She sat down on the seat next to his bed, wondering briefly whether this was where Pansy had sat earlier.  She sighed as she looked at Draco's sleeping face once again.  She had the oddest notion to hold his hand in comfort, but she fought it.  Instead, she whispered to not wake up. "I'm glad you're ok, Draco.  But did you have to be so utterly stupid?" The mumbled barb brought a small crease to his forehead as if he could hear her, but she smiled when it smoothed immediately.  She wondered if anyone had told his parents yet about the accident. No doubt, Lucius would be threatening to shut down the school if he had heard-

"Miss Granger? What are you doing here?" Madame Pomfrey looked down at her and Hermione started, having not noticed the woman come up to her.  She stammered a quick apology, glancing down at the woman's arms which were carrying salves and bandages.

"Is that for Dra-Malfoy?"

"Yes, dear.  His injury is a tricky thing, but don't you worry. I'll have him good as new in no time at all." Madame Pomfrey smiled and spoke in a hushed tone.  Hermione smiled back and stood up to get out of her way.  

"I'm off to bed now, Madame Pomfrey.  Good night."  She bade the mediwitch a quick goodbye and walked out of the medical wing.  In her preoccupation, she failed to notice another figure that had entered the wing from the staff entrance.  Snape stepped out of the shadows, eyes on Granger as she walked out.  

"Don't you think of deducting points from that girl, Severus."  Snape's head swiveled to scrutinize Madame Pomfrey, who gave him a scolding look.  Rolling his eyes, he swished his cloak and extracted the potions she required before sweeping out of the hall. Children.

The weeks wore on, and Hermione began to worry for Harry.  It seemed that they could trust Professor Lupin, but she still held some reserve for him.  It wasn't until Professor Snape substituted for Professor Lupin in D.A.D.A. that she realized why.

"Werewolves...?!" She murmured to herself, scanning her research one more time just to make sure she'd read the information correctly.  But that meant...did Dumbledore know? Her mind whirred into action as she robotically completed the assigned essay (two rolls of parchment, really?). She would hold onto this information for now, she had no time to deal with this.  With the Dementors attacking Harry after the Quidditch game, and Sirius Black on the loose somewhere in Hogwarts, not to mention the amount of work her professors had piled upon her this year, Hermione was developing quite the lifestyle of isolation.

She slammed her book closed and sighed as she ran her fingers through her curls. She hadn't been back to see Draco since that first time, but she knew from Pansy's loud gossiping that he was mostly on the mend and cocky as ever.  She fantasized seeing him again, creeping into the hospital wing to watch him sleep, but quickly put it out of her mind.  The last thing she needed was less sleep.

And yet, that evening found her making excuses to slip away from the raucous party held in the common room.  It wasn't terribly late, however she still didn't want to get caught, which is why she nimbly pilfered Harry's invisibility cloak from his bookbag and hid underneath it.  Giving Crookshanks one last scratch under his chin, she slipped out of the tower and made her way to the hospital wing.  

Making her way there was easy, especially with Harry's cloak.  But once she arrived, she seemed frozen in place.  Standing at the foot of his bed, she stared up at his sleeping face.  He didn't look as sickly pale as before, and almost had a serene quality.  Ethereal in the moonlight, she decided in her head. A small smile quirked the corner of her lips and she quietly sat down on the chair that still remained at his side.  She looked into the trash bin next to his bed and noticed there were no blood-soaked bandages now.  Good.  She tugged the Invisibility cloak off her and sighed.

"Hello, Draco." 

Draco was just drifting off to sleep when he heard a voice speak his name. Not quite willing to wake up again, he kept still and listened.  It sounded like Granger, but it couldn't be because she'd called him Draco.  After their fiasco outside the Great Hall, he doubt she'd ever call him that again.

"You've missed loads in class. I'm sure Pansy's told you all about it.  Probably even offered you her notes."  She mumbled as her gaze dropped down to her fidgeting fingers in her lap.  My notes are better, but you wouldn't want those, would you?

"You'd give me your notes?"  Draco's sleep-lined voice croaked and Hermione's eye shot up. She'd said it out loud by accident.

"Dra-Malfoy! You're awake!" She jumped up out of her seat, wringing her hand nervously.  Her eyes darted everywhere but his face, though he looked at her openly. "B-brilliant! How are you feeling? Do you need anything? Are you in pain? I could get-"

"Granger." His voice was low but held depth, quieting her rambling.  Finally she looked up at him. 

"I'd...I'd give you my notes.  If you needed them, that is." She half-whispered, and a swooping sensation fluttered in Draco's stomach.  

He stared at her as if he were seeing her for the first time.  After a moment, he came back to himself and cleared his throat. "Too bad I'm being discharged tomorrow."

Hermione wilted slightly but nodded, a small smile forming. "That's excellent, Malfoy."

A spark of inspiration hit and Draco grinned cheekily. "Miss me?"

Hermione promptly blushed and looked down. "Not at all!"  Her voice came out squeaky, and his grin widened. 

"You must have, since there's no one else who can beat you. Professor Snape's probably in a right state with you constantly waving your hand in class."

"I do not-!"

"Miss Granger." As if on queue, Professor Snape glided into the hall carrying a salve and a look of utter disdain.  Both students looked up at him with trepidation as he made his way over to Draco's bed.

"Professor Snape..."  Hermione tried to subtly glance at the clock behind him to see if she was out past curfew.  He pursed his lips as he pinned her in her spot with his stare.

"10 points from Gryffindor for being out of dorms past curfew. 5 points from Gryffindor for waking Mr. Malfoy when he should be resting."  Severus slid his gaze over to Draco who scowled and rolled his eyes.  "5 points from Slytherin for rolling your eyes at me, Mr. Malfoy."  He snapped and Draco scowled further.

Hermione looked over at Draco before swallowing hard.  He was still recovering, how could she be so reckless?  She looked down at the floor. "I'm sorry, Professor Snape.  I'm sorry, Dr-Malfoy.  I'll head back to the Gryffindor common room immediately."

"See that you do.  Any further loitering will result in detention and double points being deducted." 

Hermione gulped and walked as quickly as she could out of the hall, missing the moment that Professor Snape swatted Draco on the back of his head.

"Ow!"

Pretty soon, fall Hogsmeade trips turned into winter ones.  Trudging in the snow without Harry was always difficult as Ron and her had virtually nothing to talk about, but they made do.  She listened to him rattle out the latest Quidditch predictions, nodding in the right places as she mentally catalogued her study notes.  In turn, he always graciously offered to buy her a Butterbeer once they arrived, and they would go on their separate ways.  She had a sneaking suspicion that Harry had tasked Ron with the job of "protecting" her in his stead.  While endearing, she wondered whether Ronald, bumbling as he was, was the right person to ask.  She stifled a giggle as Ron fumbled through his words mid-conversation, grinning affably when she smiled.  She was expecting this trip to Hogsmeade to be no different from any others.

It wasn't until Harry somehow materialized that Hermione's temper finally reached its breaking point.  

"Don't you understand how dangerous it is for him to be out of school like this? With Sirius Black out there, and he doesn't even have permission-" She swatted at Ron repeatedly as he tried to have a look at the Marauder's map Harry had produced.

"Gerroff, Hermione! It'd done now, will you let it go?" Ron swore as one of her hits landed particularly hard on his shoulder and he gave her a wounded look.  Paired with Harry's mournful green eyes staring at her reproachfully, Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes.  Boys.

Draco watched the Gryffindor trio slowly fall apart as Weasley's pet rat (honestly, who had a pet rat?) had seemingly disappeared and somehow Granger's cat was involved?  He couldn't be sure, it was all rumours that he heard secondhand from Pansy.  The school had moved on from his injury, much to his displeasure. Winter came and left with the Gryffindors' moodiness growing by the week. He made an effort to surreptitiously check in on Granger, frequenting the library more often just to make sure she was alright, but it was difficult when Theo seemed to be having a conniption every other day over the lack of "snoggable witches" as he put it.  

At least his father seemed to take his injury seriously.  One perfunctory note from Professor Dumbledore to his parents had seen Lucius sweeping through the grounds in a fury.  After some heated words, Lucius had patted his son on the head gently and strode back out, only to send an official owl from the Ministry asking for an official inquiry on the oaf Hagrid's teaching credentials.  It wasn't without a struggle that the oaf remained, but Draco smirked grimly at the letter in front of him, reading the latest update.

"What does it say, Draco?" Blaise sat across from him, eyeing the aristocratic seal on the letter as he chewed on a piece of buttered toast. Malfoys and their pomp and circumstance. Draco snorted and tossed the letter to him to read. Blaise scanned the letter and raised an eyebrow before looking up. "Executed?"

"Executed?  Hagrid's being executed?" One of the first years piped up stupidly, and the gang turned to stare him down until he wilted in his seat. 

Turning back, Draco sneered. "That beast Buckbeak's being executed." His eyes drifted over to the Gryffindor table where Potter, Granger, and Weasley stood up in unison to leave.  Standing up, he gestured for Crabbe and Goyle to follow him out, trailing after them.

"I can't believe they're actually going through with it." Harry muttered for the fourth time in an hour, each time more vehemently than the last.  Hermione sighed and shook her head.

"Can't believe it?  That beast is a menace! It deserves to be put down." The three of them turned to see Malfoy behind them, a cruel smile on his face.  "Have you ever seen anything so pathetic?" Crabbe and Goyle tittered stupidly as they flanked him. "Look at him blubber."

Harry and Ron made furious sounds of discontent as they starting to walk up to him, but Malfoy continued. "He's supposed to be our teacher!"

Hermione's face flashed with pain, causing Draco to pause slightly. "Not now, Malfoy. Go away."

Draco's face twisted at the way she spat out his name, and in a fit of rage he strode straight to her face, hissing. "Filthy Mudblood, think you're worthy of saying my name? You-"

SLAP!

Hermione's eyes widened in shock as she felt the sting on her palm, and she looked at her hand.  She'd slapped him.  She'd slapped Malfoy.  Vaguely, she felt Ron pull her behind him as he and Harry tried to pummel Malfoy for calling her that word.  Crabbe and Goyle quickly pulled him out of the way and ran headlong back to the school swearing.  

A blush of adrenaline bloomed on Hermione's cheeks and she grinned sheepishly at the boys. "That felt...amazing."

But of course, nothing good lasted forever. No sooner had they come back from Buckbeak's execution, they were summoned to Professor Dumbledore's office, attended by Professors McGonagall and Snape.  Both looked at Hermione in a mixture of disapproval and shock as Draco recounted the events, not feeling the need to embellish as his cheek had already swollen to double its size.

"If he hadn't used that word I would never-" Hermione tried to speak.

"Miss Granger. I'm surprised at you.  Using violence is never the answer, you know this. Because of your rashness, Mr. Malfoy's previous injury from Buckbeak has been reactivated, and he now needs treatment from Madame Pomfrey." Professor McGonagall admonished, and Hermione hung her head.  She was the only one left after Dumbledore had dismissed Harry and Ron, much to their dismay.  

"I'm sorry, Professor."

"20 points from Gryffindor and," Hermione winced, "you will share your notes with Mr. Malfoy for all classes that you share together, for the next week. No, I don't want to hear any more of this."  Minerva raised her hand to silence both students, ignoring Severus' quirked eyebrow.

"Why do I need to punished?" Draco whined.

"I hardly think it's a punishment to receive notes from one of the top students in your classes.  It may also inspire some inter-House cooperation, which it seems is badly needed."  Minerva looked over at Albus, who winked at her wit. 

"Well? When do you normally study?"  Hermione asked begrudgingly as they exited the Headmaster's office.  Draco huffed, cupping his hand to his cheek. A twinge of regret washed over Hermione and she bit her lip.

"I'll come to the library in the evening.  I need to see Madame Pomfrey for this blasted shoulder and now my cheek, my father will be furious-" Draco cut himself off and sighed as they reached a crossroads.

"If you hadn't called me that I wouldn't have-" Hermione tried to defend herself but Draco shot her a withering look.

"I'm going now. Be at your table in the library after dinner."  He trudged away.  Hermione watched him go before realizing that he'd known of her study schedule without being told. 

After dinner, Hermione wait impatiently for Draco, tapping her quill on the desk.  Where is he?  After glancing at the clock for the fourth time, she huffed and gathered her things.  She walked out of the library and strode down the hall before realizing she had no way of knowing where he was.  He likely was in the Slytherin common room, but what if he had been kept at the hospital wing for some reason.  She bit the nail of her thumb and strode into the hospital wing, looking around.

"Miss Granger.  What can I do for you?" Madame Pomfrey greeted her cheerily, and Hermione smiled.

"I was wondering if Malfoy was released today."  She almost regretted asking the question, as Madame Pomfrey's eyes darkened.

"Ah yes, he told me you had a bit of a tiff." She shook her head disapprovingly at Hermione who cringed.  Pursing her lips, she pointed to the bed on the far end of the wing.  

"There you are. Couldn't you have told me you weren't coming?" Hermione demanded as she made her way over to Draco, who was busy reading-was that Witch Weekly?

"I prefer having you at my beck and call, Granger." Draco dropped the magazine into his lap and smiled.

Hermione rolled her eyes and huffed. "When do you get released?"

"Tomorrow."

"Good. Tomorrow after dinner, same time as today." She walked back out without waiting for a response, not seeing the sparkle in his eyes.

Draco grinned widely as he watched her leave, before quickly dropping his smile when he noticed Madame Pomfrey watching. 

In the evening, true to his word, Hermione saw Draco enter the library and head straight to her usual table.  Dropping his bookbag down with a thump, he held his hand out to her.  She looked blankly at it and then back at him.  Letting out a sigh, he fixed a stare to her. "Well? Your notes?"

Hermione took in a deep breath and began speaking.  She'd been practicing her apology all day in her head. "I'm very sorry for hitting you Malfoy.  Although you used that deplorable word, it was irresponsible and thoughtless of me to hit you after your recent injury."  She looked into his eyes and noted a hint of amusement as he watched her without speaking.  Unable to contain herself, she spoke again. "If you hadn't used that word-"

"Right. Not like you've been itching to have a go at me since the Great Hall."  There, he'd spat it out.  Whatever amusement she'd seen in his eyes was now long gone.  The awkwardness penetrated the air around them as she slid her gaze down to the table.

"You didn't need to be cruel.  You're always cruel, except when you're not."  She spoke softly.

Draco gazed at her, the sun illuminating pieces of her hair like a golden crown on her head. Sighing, he flexed his hand and beckoned for Hermione again. "Come on, cough up the notes."  He took the stack from her and began ruffling through.

"For God's sake, Ronald, Crookshanks did not eat your rat!" Hermione growled ferally as Ron muttered darkly again.  She ignored Harry as he scrubbed his face with his hand for the third time this evening.  She finally had a night to herself after a week of studying with Draco, but somehow she was more exhausted than ever.  Studying with him had been...refreshing.  They both shared a thirst for knowledge and a propensity for being thorough in their studies.  There had been moments that caused a warm glow in her body.  When he passed her a piece of parchment and their fingertips lingered, or when she looked up from her books to accidentally meet his eyes. Last night, his eyes had glowed in the dim corridor flames.  She wondered if there had been a moment when he wanted to say something, but he seemed to change his mind.

Hermione's thought drifted away from Ron's incessant whining as she contemplated what she would be doing with her free time now, little though it was. As it was, they were walking back from visiting poor Hagrid when a rustle caught Ron's eyes.  Hermione ran with the boys and Ron chased what he thought was Scabbers, only to watch in horror as Ron was abducted by a great black dog (the Grim?) right into a tunnel in the Whomping Willow.  She looked at Harry and gulped as they ran to rescue their friend.

Using the Time-Turner for classes was one thing. Using one to save an innocent person? Another thing entirely.  And yet, here she was, with Harry, going back in time.  She watched herself breathlessly as she slapped Malfoy across the face, wincing as she saw how his neck had snapped backwards.  Diverting her eyes from the scene before her, she looked over at Hagrid's hut and silently gestured for Harry to follow her.  They would be saving two innocent lives today.  

One moment Malfoy was enjoying one of the last feasts of the year, the next moment he was hearing that Buckbeak had escaped? How did this happen?  He'd been told by his father who was informed in no uncertain terms by the executioner McNair that the deed was as good as done, and yet the trio were beaming with joy as they whispered amongst themselves, giggling.  His eyes narrowed as he watched them, wondering how they had done it.  His eyes caught Granger's and he frowned.  She gave him a tentative smile followed by a grimace as she watched him rub the old injury. 

"Look!"

Draco's eyes snapped over to an owl holding a package shaped like-is that a-?

"Open it, Harry!" Of course, the broom-shaped package would land on Potter's table.  Draco rolled his eyes but watched curiously.  Biting back a gasp, he watched as Potter opened the package to reveal the latest broom model, a Firebolt.  He gnashed his teeth as several Slytherin first years crowded around the Gryffindor table to see it.

“I think maybe we should pause here.” Draco murmured smiling as he watched his two daughters begin to nod off. Hermione glanced down and smiled. 

“Good idea. We can pick this up tomorrow.”

“They lasted longer than we thought they would. But you still owe me 5 Galleons, Mum.” Scorpius smirked.  

Draco raised an eyebrow and watched as Scorpius scooped up Aurelia while Hermione held Seren in her arms.  Both began squirming immediately, moaning in protest despite their sleepy haze.

"No, we're still awake!"

"Just one more story, Mum.  It's not fair that Scorpius gets to stay up ." Aurelia whined, and Draco bent down to kiss her head.

"Your brother is older than you, and has a later bedtime. Besides, look at you two. You can barely keep your eyes open."

"Daddy please? Look, we'll keep our eyes open." Seren yawned and blinked slowly.  Draco and Hermione exchanged amused looks.

"Fine. One more." Hermione conceded, and Scorpius groaned, slumping down to put Aurelia back on the floor.

"Oh, come on! I almost won my 5 Galleons!" 

Draco settled back down into his spot and waved his wand for hot chocolate. There were no house-elves in the Granger house, and although the Malfoy name bound the elves to the family, Hermione had made a rule not to have house-elves here.  It had taken some getting used to, but he no longer missed Neli as much as he'd thought he would. Sending a mug of hot chocolate to each person, Draco took a long sip.

"Fine, just one more." He grinned inwardly.  He loved the next story.

Chapter Text

Previously:

"Fine, just one more." He grinned inwardly.  He loved the next story.

"Yay!"  Seren and Aurelia cheered, suddenly awake as a burst of sugar brightened their smiles.  Scorpius sipped his hot chocolate primly the way he'd been taught by his late mother before she'd passed on.  Hermione leaned over to grab more pillows, stuffing them against her back as she settled in for the story that still made her body tingle after all these years.

"Hermione, darling, Mr. Weasley should be arriving momentarily.  Are you sure you don't need any help from your father or I?" Mrs. Granger called up to her daughter from the bottom of their staircase.  She furrowed her eyebrows as she tried to decipher the words Hermione said from behind her closed bedroom door. Turning to her husband, she asked, “What did she say?”

Mr. Granger shrugged as he sipped his coffee at the kitchen island, interested more in the moving pictures of the Daily Prophet, which seemed to be depicting an up-and-coming Quidditch player. Something about the young man being the youngest Seeker in years.

Sighing, Mrs. Granger turned back to the stairs to call up to her daughter once more. “Hermione, come along, dear.”

Hermione opened her door and began pulling her packed school trunk out with ease due to a lightening cushion she'd learned from the previous year. “I'm coming, mum.” She pulled the trunk down the stairs until it thumped gently on the main floor, thanks to a well-placed cushioning charm.

Mrs. Granger smiled proudly as she steered her daughter into the living room, waving her husband along. “Come on then. Now, you remember what we've always told you? Mr. And Mrs. Weasley have been so good to you these years, always keeping in touch. Make sure you don't trouble them, yes?”

“Yes, mum. I know.” Hermione nodded rapidly.

Mr. Granger placed a calming hand on the small of his wife's back and smiled dotingly down at his daughter. “Your mother and I are so very proud of you, you know that, right?”

Hermione beamed up at her father and pulled both her parents into a tight hug. “I know, Dad. I'll be fine. Ron will be there, of course.”

“Well yes, but didn't he crash his father's flying car last year?” Mrs. Granger frowned slightly, and Hermione laughed.

“It was second year, mum. But I'm sure this year will be fine.” Hermione hoped she was right about that. To be fair, it really wasn't Ronald's fault.

The fireplace roared to life as green flames shot up, and the Grangers turned towards it, startled. Hermione was the first to react when a shoe-covered foot stepped out of the flames.

“Ah, there we are. Hermione, how are you? It's so good to see you again. Ron will be along in a minute. John! Kathleen! Thank you so much for letting us borrow Hermione for the summer.” Arthur patted Hermione on the shoulder affectionately before striding over to shake her parents' hands. She watched him deftly wave his wand to vanish any trace of soot from his cloak and shoes to not cause a mess. A soft thump echoed out of the fireplace and Ron was sent stumbling into the Granger living room with far less grace than his father. Hermione caught him by the arm quickly and helped pull him out. Her hands lingered for a moment as they made eye contact, and she flushed as they both quickly fell away.

“Alright, Hermione?” Ron asked.

Hermione smiled and nodded. “I'm doing quite well, thank you Ron. And yourself?”

He shrugged. “Yeah, not bad. It'll be better in a few days though! I can't believe dad got tickets to the World Cup! Fred and George have been practicing their Irish jig for days.” He grinned.

Hermione wrung her hands as her stomach flipped. “I've been doing loads of reading about it. It's the Irish versus Bulgaria, right? Did you know that they will be filling a stadium of a hundred thousand seats?”

“Yeah, it'll be packed. But you can't learn much about Quidditch just by reading about it. Don't worry, Hermione. I know you're not much for Quidditch, but we'll make you a lover yet! I mean,-” Ron broke off, his eyes widening as he stumbled over his words. Hermione blushed hotly, grateful that her parents weren't within earshot as they had stepped into the kitchen for a spot of tea with Arthur.

A few minutes later, Arthur strode back into the living room, clapping Ron on the shoulder and looking expectantly at Hermione. “Shall we? No time like the present, and I daresay Molly will have my hide if we are late for supper. Besides, Ginny will be so pleased to have another girl in the house.”

Hermione smiled brightly as she leapt up to gather her things. She pulled her parents into a tight hug, and they hugged her back with equal fervor.

“Be careful, my darling. Make sure to listen to Mr. Weasley. Owl if you need us for anything. You still have the old mobile phone we gave you? It should still work if you're in a pinch.” Mr. Granger cupped his daughter's face and pressed a kiss to her forehead. Mrs. Granger took another turn at a hug, squeezing Hermione until she let out a muffled squeak against her shoulder.

“Be safe, my love. Owl us!”

Hermione beamed in pride at the way her parents took to magic so easily. She nodded, turning away as she spoke. “Love you both!” She watched Arthur step into the fireplace, shouting “The Burrow”. Ron took one step in before reaching out his hand to her so they could go together. She paused for a moment as she felt her mother's discerning eyes watching her and blushed softly before taking his hand.

“Thank you, Ronald.” They stepped in together, shouting the address in unison.

The roar from the crowd was deafening as Hermione was jostled between Ron and Ginny trying to find a place to see the Quidditch players. The flashing sparklers and festive lights surrounding the stadium made her eyes itch but somehow she couldn't look away. Distracted, she almost missed the soft drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy.

“Good lord, Arthur. What did you have to sell to get seats in the Top Box?” Hermione whirled around to look behind her. She noticed Draco first, face pinched and back straight as he stood next to a blond woman that had similar features to him. Lucius' eyes scanned the dishevelled children's robes and flickered over at his son's pristine black ones. One didn't need to be a mind reader to see what he was thinking. But a moment later, Hermione was rooted on the spot when Lucius' eyes settled on hers.

“Miss Granger...”

Draco stiffened imperceptibly at the sound of his father's silky, patronizing tone, and he almost looked over at Hermione. Instead, he fixed his cool stare at Harry, who stubbornly glared back.

“Lucius.” Narcissa's voice cut through the tension, and immediately Lucius turned to Minister Fudge to discuss his latest donation to St. Mungo's, no longer interested in any of the Weasley's or their company. Narcissa's eyes glowed with something unknown as she looked Hermione over once and tugged Draco along.

“Potter.” Draco didn't bother addressing any of the others.

“Malfoy.” Potter's voice hissed back.

Hermione waited with held breath until the Malfoys had disappeared before collapsing against the railing next to Ginny.

Hermione's nerves jittered with excitement at the aftermath of the final match. The Irish had won! She laughed with abandon at Fred and George prancing on the table in their magically-enlarged tent, while Ron pretended to faint over the Bulgarian seeker Viktor Krum.

“I think you're in love, Ron.” Ginny teased, and Hermione broke out into new laughter. As the boys began yet another reinactment of the match, Arthur strode into the tent, a tight look on his face.

“No more roughhousing, boys. We need to go.”

“What's happened?” Harry asked, and Hermione's stomach swooped at the sudden tension. She vaguely heard the cheers from fans turning into screams outside of their tent.

Arthur rounded on the boys, all business. “Fred, George, Ginny is your responsibility. I need to go help take care of the crowds. Ron, you take Hermione and Harry to the Portkey and go home. Stay together!” He dashed off after a stern look at everyone, and pandemonium erupted.

The trio looked at each other and burst out of the tent, taking in the chaos. Wizards jostled against each other in a panic to get away, some toppling into the soft ground. Hermione winced as they saw people being trampled, and she turned to Ron and Harry. “We have to get out of here!”

Ron nodded. “Come on! To the Portkey.”

They all linked arms and ran through the crowd. They made little progress through the masses and Hermione cried out as she was elbowed several times in the ribs. Finally, they reached a lull in the crowds and looked around.

“Hanging around, Potter? I thought you were at least smarter than that.” They whipped themselves around and came face to face with a slightly-sweaty Draco Malfoy, who grimly stepped around a collapsing tent.

“Malfoy. What are you doing here? And what do you mean?” Ron snarled. Draco raised an eyebrow and openly turned his gaze to Granger, who shivered under his stare.

Draco let his eyes brush over her body, taking in the dirt smudges on her clothes and the frazzled look of her hair. He trembled slightly as he put weight behind his words. “They're hunting Muggles, Granger. Want to be hanging upside down with your knickers on display?” He watched her flinch back and he nodded. He looked over at Potter, who glared back at him. With a sickening sense of satisfaction, he said, “Better get her away from here, if you know what's good for you.”

“Hermione's a witch, Malfoy.” Harry spat out, and Hermione felt a flush of pride for her friend. Draco sneered.

“You think that matters to people like them?” People like my father. He stepped forward and finally addressed Weasley. “Get her away from here, unless you want the Mudblood exposed for everyone to see.” He pumped venom into his words, and watched as their meaning finally sunk into the redhead's brain.

Enraged, Ron pulled his fist back in preparation to clock Draco in the face when Hermione grabbed him and exasperatedly pulled him away. “Come on, Ronald. We need to go!” She shot Draco a look that sent a thrill down his spine. Her eyes were glowing with the kind of disapproval that made Draco want to egg her on further.

Hermione's fury propelled her into Harry and they stumbled away as fast as they could. Really? Calling me names again? He never changes.

“A Triwizard tournament!” Ron muttered excitedly, clinging to Harry's arm as he listened to Dumbledore's speech. Harry grinned back at him, wondering who the Hogwarts champion would be. “Reckon we'll put our names in?” Hermione heard Ron's question and rolled her eyes. She pushed her hair out of her face, turning back to Dumbledore. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Draco for the first time since they'd arrived. She turned her face and saw that he was looking right back at her. Startled, she hastily looked away.

A ripple of whispers and gasps fell through the Hogwarts students as the Great Hall opened and a flock of beautiful young ladies glided effortlessly into the room. Ron's jaw dropped as he bent to the side to check out their arses, and even Harry seemed to be momentarily entranced. Hermione looked over at the Slytherin table again and a twinge of jealousy zipped through her as Draco's eyes followed the leading female student as she lead the Beauxbatons students to the front.

A moment later, the thudding sound of tens of cans echoed through the Great Hall, as the sons of Durmstrang strode in confidently. This time, it was Draco's turn to scrutinize Hermione, watching as she bit her lip while meeting Viktor Krum's confident gaze. His blood burned and he clenched his jaw, much to Pansy and Theo's quiet amusement. Both exchanged smirks with each other that quickly dissolved into ignorance when he turned to face them.

“Bloody show-offs.” He muttered under his breath. Theo snorted into his pumpkin juice at that.

Hermione waved lightly at the boys as she made her way to the library. She nodded at Nearly-Headless Nick as she skirted past him, grinning as he told her he thought he'd made actual headway with gaining entry into the Headless Hunt.

“That's fantastic, Sir Nicholas! I do hope you are able to finally join this year.”

“Thank you, my dear. Good luck studying!”

Hermione smiled widely as she turned before bumping into something broad and very hard.

“Oh!” She clasped her nose as she stepped back, wincing.”

“Sorry, miss.” A thick Bulgarian accent came from above, and Hermione looked up to see Viktor peering down at her with concern. “Are you ah, how do you say, okay?” He gave the hand gesture for 'ok', and Hermione smiled despite herself.

“Yes, I'm fine. I should be apologizing to you, I wasn't watching where I was going and ran right into you.”

“Ah, miss. You, er, slow down? You talk uh, too fast for me. My English is, ah, not so good.” He said embarrassed, and she softened.

“I'm so sorry. I'm fine. Are you alright?” She asked slowly, enunciating her words.

Viktor nodded eagerly. “I am good!”

She glanced behind him as she felt stares on her, and sure enough, several girls were lurking in the courtyard glaring at her. She looked back at Viktor and smiled sheepishly. “Well, I must go now. Sorry, again.”

“Ah, miss!” Viktor tried to call out to her, but she was already on the move.

“Oh no you don't!”

Professor Moody's voice boomed through the courtyard and Hermione paused in her step just in time to see Malfoy shrink into a white ferret. She dropped her bookbag in shock as she watched the new professor toy with the boy-turned animal for several minutes until Professor McGonagall finally transfigured him back to normal. She clenched her fist in anger but there was nothing she could do as Professor McGonagall had it handled. Striding away, she didn't notice how Malfoy surreptitiously looked around.

Draco shakily straightened his clothing amid the roars of laughter coming from the students around him. One look from Mad-Eye sent him running in fear, but not before looking around in relief.

“Don't worry, no one important saw you.” Theo said with a chortle as he helped Draco get sorted out. He smirked as the young Malfoy heir sent him a quizzical look, but he didn't elaborate.

“Crucio!” Mad-Eye tortured the enlarged spider in front of Neville, clueless to his suffering until-

“Stop! Stop it! Can't you see what it's doing to him?” Hermione cried out, tears streaming down her face as she watched Neville's face twisted in anguish. Draco swallowed hard and was unable to conjure up an ounce of annoyance when Weasley took her hand in comfort.

Moody lifted the curse after a quick glance at Neville's face before bringing the spider to Hermione's desk.

“And the last one. I think you'd be able to tell the class which one it is, Miss Granger?” He stared unblinkingly with his prosthetic eye. Draco clenched his jaw at the audacity and he forced himself to stay still as Hermione shook her head, her whole body trembling with the stress of holding in her sobs.

“No? Mm..Avada Kedavra!” Moody hissed, killing the spider at her desk.

She turned her head at the last minute, closing her eyes as she was unable to look. When she opened them again, she met Draco's pained look, and a sob broke free from her lips before she turned back to face her desk. He wiped a sweaty palm onto his trousers as he forced himself to watch the killing curse in action.

“There's only one person who's known to have survived that curse...and he's sitting right here in this very room. Right in front of me.” Moody strode over to Harry's desk and fixed him with a look as he stared blankly at the dead spider.

“Ready, Fred?”

“Ready, George!”

Draco watched the Weasley twins down some potion they'd concocted and jump over Dumbledore's age line. Briefly, he wondered if he should have attempted something similar, but his father had warned that “things were being set in motion”, as he put it. It would be better to keep his head down for the year.

The twins yelped simultaneously and the crowd watching gasped as they were catapulted out of the age line and thrown across the hall. Slowly getting up, they gasped in shock as their hair turned from ruddy auburn to snow white, matching beards as long as Dumbledore's growing on their faces.

“You said-” George cried out.

“No, you said-” Fred pointed back at him. In a fit of anger, they grabbed hold of each other and began rolling on the tiled floor, fighting. The crowd watched, laughing lightly at their plight, and Draco smirked, though he was slightly disappointed. If anyone were to have a chance at beating the age line, he would've placed his Galleons on them.

His eyes drifted over to Hermione as she shook her head disapprovingly, sticking her nose back into her book. He let out a small breath of laughter. Swot.

“Harry Potter.” Dumbledore read out the name on the slip, and Hermnione's stomach dropped. A low murmur rustled through the Gryffindor table and Ron's face went blank.

“Harry. Why's he saying your name?” Ron asked, and Harry shrank back, shrugging.

“Dunno. It must be a mistake.”

“Harry Potter.” Dumbledore spoke more clearly, turning to look over at the Gryffindor table. Hermione looked over at Professor McGonagall, Hagrid, someone. It had to be a mistake, right? He was too young. Minerva's face was pale, Hagrid stricken. Finally, Hermione reached grabbed Harry's arm and gently pulled him up.

“Go. Harry, you have to go.” She muttered under her breath and pushed him to his feet. He stared blankly down at her and she tried to nod encouragingly. Her stomach clenched as he walked through the doors to where the other champions had gone. What now?

Draco scowled as he glared at Potter and Granger. Once again, Potter had to be the centre of attention. It really was quite pathetic, his need to be adored. To go so far as to go against Dumbledore too, Draco relished the punishment that was bound to be given now. Suspension? Surely, dishonouring one's school so blatantly warranted expulsion.

Hermione tried to cajole Ron but there was no reaching him. He was convinced that Harry had betrayed him somehow, despite being his best friend. Exasperatedly, she often abandoned them both to go to the library to study. Within a week, she'd noticed little pins with “Potter sucks!” popping up on classmates' robes, and she groaned. Just what Harry needed. Now that he was officially a Triwizard champion, he should be concentrating on the tasks, not getting distracted by these silly pranks. She prodded at Ron, asking if he'd had anything to do with it.

“Wasn't me. Bloody brilliant though.” Ron smirked quite unlike himself, reaching to pick one up. Hermione quickly slapped his hand away.

“Ronald!”

“Ow! What was that for?”

“It's Harry! You don't honestly believe-”

“I don't know what I believe, alright? Besides, it's just a harmless prank. Get ahold of yourself, woman.” Ron rolled his eyes as Hermione glowered.

“You two need to talk. No, I'm serious, Ron, he's your best friend-”

“Yeah, my best friend that leaves me in the dust all the time. With best friends like that, who needs enemies?” Ron muttered darkly.

“Ronald, you don't mean that.”

“...what?” Harry asked blankly. Hermione sighed as she tried to remember what it was she was supposed to say.

“Um..that is...Ronald would like me to tell you that...Seamus told him that Dean was told by Parvati that Hagrid's looking for you.” She bobbed her head trying to remember all the names.

“Sorry...one more time?”

“Uh...one moment.” Hermione trudged back to Ron, a few paces away, who whispered to her before she came back and repeated herself.

“Yeah? Well you can tell Ron that-”

“I'm not an owl!” Hermione cried out exasperatedly.

Sessions in the library had suddenly become much more interesting lately. Hermione smiled as a familiar smoky scent reached her nostrils. Looking up, she said, “Viktor. You're joining me again?”

“If that's alright, Herminny?” Viktor smiled charmingly down at her, and she blushed lightly. A faint fluttering in her chest caused her to look down at her books to gather herself before she spoke again.

“Of course!” She cringed at the shrill pitch of her voice, but Viktor dropped to the seat in front of her, oblivious.

Their studying sessions had really turned into her studying while he asked her questions about life in Hogwarts here and there. She found his soft-spoken nature endearing, so unlike the brusque persona he kept up for Quidditch. She found herself curling her hair around her fingers like a vapid lunatic at times, but somehow she didn't seem to care when she was with him.

After several minutes, Hermione felt a soft tap on the back of her hand, and she looked up to see Viktor looking at her. “Can I...may I sit, ah, next to you?” He asked almost shyly, and Hermione couldn't help but smile and nod.

Viktor beamed as he sat down next to her, his warmth somehow enveloping her body. She smiled as she continued studying, but a moment later felt his hand brush her hair over her shoulder. “You have beautiful hair.” He murmured.

She laughed and shook her head self-deprecatingly. “This? No, it's awful. Frizzy, dry, unmanageable.. Not beautiful.”

“I see..wild. I like wild.”

Something in his voice made her at him. His eyes were dark but warm, and she felt herself almost getting sucked in. She felt herself leaning in and saw that he was as well. His arm brushed against hers as he reached for her. They were so close-

CRASH!

Jumping apart, they looked toward the sound. Hermione blinked as several girls glared at her. They must have been leaning on a bookcase spying on Viktor and their combined weight had collapsed it, causing the noise. She looked back at Viktor, noticing that his cheeks looked as flushed as she felt, and she let out a soft giggle. He chuckled and reached up to caress her cheek.

“I must go. Karkaroff asked for a meeting and I am late.”

“Oh..alright then.” She said breathlessly. He smiled again, and she noticed how his eyes drifted down to her lips before he got up and walked out of the library. She watched him go before pressing her hands to her cheeks to try and quell the blush.

Draco scowled as he walked out of the library. Those girls hadn't been the only ones watching. He was lost in his thoughts when he nearly ran into Theo, who simply grinned at him.

“Library? Studying hard, I see.” Theo's voice held a note of humour, and Draco glared at him.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. Say, I just passed by some girls who said Krum was snogging Granger. Did you see anything?” Theo said innocently, and Draco's scowl deepened.

He pushed past the brunet. “I didn't see anything.”

“Oh. That's okay. They said it was pretty passionate, almost too explicit-hey!” Theo walked right into Draco when he stopped abruptly. “What'd you stop for?”

“They were not snogging.” Draco gritted his teeth, trying to control his temper.

“Theo toyed with his cuff buttons. “Oh, so you did see. Why didn't you say so?”

Draco shot him a withering look meant to quell him, but Theo just levelled a cool stare back at him. A shot of panic jolted through Draco and he switched tactics. Feigning disinterest, he shrugged and walked further down the hall. “Why would I care who that Mudblood snogs? I don't-”

“Don't.” Theo's voice was suddenly cold, making Draco stop in his tracks. He turned to face him.

“What?”

“Don't use that word.” The sudden shift in tone made Draco cross his arms.

“Growing soft now, are we, Nott? You've never been shy before. Come now, say it with me. Mud-”

Theo's hand shot out and covered Draco's mouth in an instant. They were in a quiet part of the castle, so he knew not to worry about being seen. Instead, Draco studied the boy in front of him.

“Don't say the word. You say it in front of your parents. In front of the others. In front of her. But not me. Understand?” Theo's voice was low.

Draco nodded slowly, and Theo let go of him. “You know.”

Theo nodded. “Pansy knows too, and I'm pretty sure Blaise.”

Draco's eyes went wide. “Vince? Greg?”

“Vinny and Greg don't know shit. And don't worry about the others.” Theo watched his childhood friend visibly relaxed, and he patted him on the shoulder. “I take it she has no idea.”

Draco ran his hand over his face. “It's complicated.”

Theo barked a laugh. “When is it easy?” He earned a glare with that.

“And you?” Draco threw back at him. “Found any more witches to snog? Or maybe a few wizards?”

Theo kept up the cool demeanour as he blanched inwardly. “Wizards? Come off it, Malfoy.”

Draco hummed his disbelief, bumping his shoulder to Theo's. “It's complicated. Right?” Theo grinned and nodded, chortling.

As the crowd gasped, Draco felt an odd sense of sympathy for Potter. He was having a truly horrid time defeating the Hungarian Horntail. He watched as Harry dodged the beast's barbed tail once more before trying to gain ground towards the golden egg. Draco swore as a roar of fire blasted straight towards Harry, though he was unsure if he was hoping that he be burnt or that he had escaped. Seconds ticked by as Harry disappeared, and he waited impatiently.

“What's that?” Pansy pointed to the sky, and Draco squinted.

Hurtling towards the stadium was what looked like a broomstick without a rider. He watched, transfixed, as Harry came out from hiding and expertly jumped onto his Firebolt, dashing away as the Horntail chased him hot on his tail. They both disappeared behind the castle, causing murmurs to float about whether Harry would be disqualified. Minutes passed, and the crowd's mumbles grew louder. Suddenly, Harry came flying at top speed with an incredibly agitated dragon on his tail. The crowd shrieked and cheered as Harry in true Seeker fashion gently scooped up the egg and pelted away to safety so Charlie Weasley could get control of the wild dragon. Draco found himself cheering for Potter despite their rivalry, admitting to himself that it was quite the good show.

He rolled his eyes, however, when he noticed that several first year females in the other houses had fainted from the excitement.

“Come now, everyone be quiet please. Mr. Finnegan, I beg you to please put your wand away before you hurt yourself again. Boys on the left towards the windows, girls on the right against the walls, if you please.” Professor McGonagall clapped her hands as the Gryffindors sat on the benches in their discussion hall. Hermione looked around curiously.

“Now. There is a tradition that occurs during every Triwizard tournament called the Yule Ball. It is a time for some good-spirited frivolity. That is not to say you are allowed to muck about. You are Gryffindors, and what's more, you are Hogwarts students. I expect each and every one of you to behave respectfully and appropriately.” She levelled a stern look at each one of her charges.

“That being said, this event is first and foremost, a dance. And as your Head of House, I will be teaching all of you how to dance appropriately. There will be no gyrating, or “boogying”, as the kids say. You will learn to waltz.” The boys groaned audibly as the girls giggled amongst themselves. Minerva turned to Mr. Filch, who stood waiting with a Muggle record player. She wave him to start the music.

“Now, who shall be my partner? Ah, yes. Come, Mr. Weasley. Ronald, come here.” Ron turned beet red as he slouched to the middle of the hall. “Mr. Weasley, put your hand on my waist.” He blanched.

“On your where?”

“On my waist. Come on. There. Now, you as the gentleman will lead, but I'll teach you where to go.” Professor McGonagall began guiding Ron into a box step. After a few steps, she stepped away and nodded. “Good. Alright, everyone. Let us see all of you try. Pair up!”

Hermione stood up from her seat and anxiously tugged at the hem of her sleeve. Her eyes sought Harry's as he was her best friend but he was already taken by Parvati. Her eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on Ron, who happened to be walking straight for her.

“Hey, reckon we can have a go just to get it over with?” He asked hopefully, and she smiled.

“Of course, Ronald.”

“Silence.” Severus swept into the lower Slytherin hall and stood in the middle. Immediately, the student formed two lines in front of him, and he nodded in approval.

“The Triwizard tournament consists of a tradition called the Yule Ball. It is a dance.” His eyes glittered dangerously as he sought any ounce of glee or humour from hearing his words. Not finding any, he continued. “You will no doubt hear from other students that they have been given dancing lessons. You will not find that here. Should you need tutelage in dancing...I suggest you speak to a Hufflepuff. Or the headmaster.” With that, he strode back out of the hall, leaving his students to fend for themselves.

Draco glanced at his friends. A dance? What kind of dance? A waltz was traditional, but what kind of waltz? He sighed. He hadn't kept up with his etiquette classes, and he was certain that several others (namely Crabbe, Goyle, and probably Nott) wouldn't find dancing, especially regimented dancing, to come naturally.. His eyes met Pansy's as she scowled.

“A dance? We need to dance? This is horseshite!” She hissed. Theo shrugged and stretched his arms.

“I'm sure it'll be fine.”

Draco swallowed hard. He wasn't so sure.

“What do you mean, you left them to it?” Pomona sputtered, gaping at Severus. He stared back impassively.

“We are all responsible for the respect of our school. I'm sure I don't need to remind you that any failure to follow school rules will reflect poorly on the Head of House.” Dumbledore rumbled, but Severus merely shrugged.

What were they going to do, fire him? He turned to Minerva. “Perhaps they can join your practice sessions. Nearly all of mine are purebloods, and the rest have a modicum of intelligence in their brains. They should adapt easily.”

Minerva blanched at the thought of combined Gryffindor-Slytherin sessions, but her gaze slid over to Albus. He had a twinkle in his eye, which meant that she either agree to it, or he would force the issue. Sighing, she nodded. “Fine. They may join us. I suppose we shall have to move the sessions to the study hall.

Albus clapped his hands. “Marvelous. It's settled. Until our next meeting.

Draco looked around as he walked into the study hall, unsure of what to expect. He spotted Granger immediately, and immediately stood a fair distance away from her, turning his head away in indifference. When the final students had arrived, Professor McGonagall clapped her hands.

“Everyone quiet please. Gryffindors, you'll notice that we have Slytherin house joining us for practice today. I trust each and every one of you to act appropriately as per your House rules. Any inter-house rivalries are at a truce while within these walls. You are all practicing for a higher purpose, and therefore I expect you to behave.” She shot a glare at the students gathered around her. “Good. Now, we will be changing partners. Gryffindor boys, line up to my left. Slytherin girls, line up to my right. Gryffindor girls, you are on the other side there, Slytherin boys, you line up in front of them. These will be your partners-no, I don't want to hear it. All of you, now!” Moans of protests echoed in the hall as students milled around to their respective spots.

Draco tried to stay as far away from Granger as possible, watching where she stood in the lineup. Yet, with all the students jostling for position, he somehow lost track of her until he didn't.

“Oops sorry, mate. Just gonna squeeze in here. Imagine, dancing with Gryffindors. Would've been better just to practice on our own.” Theo quipped, and Draco barked a laugh that quickly died as soon as he saw his partner.

He turned to Theo, a thunderous look on his face, only to find one of his best mates grinning like the snake he truly was. “You motherfu-”

“Alright, everyone please be quiet. Mr. Filch, music if you please.” An easy waltz wafted through the room, and the Slytherins watched with interest as the Gryffindor students straightened up. McGonagall gestured, and all students strode to meet each other, the Gryffindors teaching the Slytherins how to play their parts.

Hermione felt her face flush as she paused in front of Draco. She looked up at him evenly. “Malfoy.”

Draco felt a shiver as he suddenly found her so close that he could touch her. In fact, he was supposed to be touching her. Grasping her hand firmly, he slid his hand to her waist, smirking when he felt a shiver run through her. “Granger.” He deftly led her into a simple box waltz, noting how she seemed almost unwilling to bend to his lead.

Hermione gritted her teeth as she fought the urge to pull away from Draco's touch. He seemed to be doing a good job of leading, but she couldn't help herself from fighting him. “You've done this before.”

His smirk deepened and he raised his chin in pride. “Every pureblood knows how to waltz.” They went through the movements a few more times in silence as they listened to Professor McGonagall calling out advice.

“You're quite good at this.” Hermione found herself admitting. She watched Draco's stoic face melt into a smile quite unlike anything she'd ever seen before. A moment later, and it was gone.

“You're not so bad yourself, Granger.” Draco's tone lowered so only she could hear, and she shivered at the teasing note in his voice. She squeezed his hand unconsciously but he didn't react.

Before long, the session was over. Breaking apart, Hermione suddenly felt a rush of cool air flutter around her, and she flushed at having been draped in his presence. It made her feel sleepy, like she was floating. How odd.

As the weeks wore on, even Hermione had to grumble at the amount of work placed on the students. Between Professor Snape's threat to poison the class to see if their researched antidotes worked, and Professor Flitwick's 3-scroll essay on researching Entrancing Enchantments, she wished she hadn't returned the Time-Turner at the end of last year.

On top of everything else, they still had to practice dancing with the Slytherins. Although most of the students had rotated to different partners as Professor McGonagall instructed, she saw fit to keep Draco and Hermione together. She watched as they swayed in Draco's excellent leading, and nodded approvingly. With that, Hermione now gravitated towards him at the start of each session, and he seemed to do the same for her, though he was cool as ever. And it seemed like other Gryffindors had found mutual respect in their Slytherin partners as well, loathe though they had been to accept it at first.

Even Ron begrudgingly began to walk towards Pansy without being prompted today, though he still grimaced as he saw her cruel smirk. Harry muttered under his breath to Hermione, “Gods, she's a sadist. Look at that smile.” Hermione muffled a laugh in her fist before walking over to Draco.

“Something funny, Granger?” Draco raised an eyebrow at her mirth, but she shook her head.

“No, it's nothing.” She raised her hand expectantly, and he took her in his arms as the music began to play. They danced quietly, until McGonagall came over to check their form.

“Very good, Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger. You've both improved remarkably. Now, Mr. Malfoy, try to be a little less stiff with your arms here. And Miss Granger, bend your arm like this. There. Aren't they a pretty picture, Argus?”

Hermione was too busy trying to fight off a blush to hear Mr. Filch's words. Draco ventured a peek down at her and bit his inner cheek to stop from smiling. He raised his eyes again, this time meeting Theo's amusing look. He rolled his eyes as Theo mouthed, “You're welcome” over Lavender Brown's head.

Hermione was all over the place as the Yule Ball approached. She had laughed with everyone else at the sight of Ron's “dress robes”, but she was growing more concerned with not having anything appropriate. She bemoaned her plight to Ginny, who simply shrugged and asked, “What kind of dress does Krum like?” Hermione blushed as she thought back to when he'd asked her earlier that day.

They were studying in the library as usual. Rather, she was attempting to study while he ran his fingers through her hair, making her moan softly as he chuckled. She swatted his hand playfully for the third time that day.

“Viktor!”

“Herminny.” His deep bass sent a shiver up her spine and she dropped her eyes down to her books.

“I'm meant to be studying.”

“Herminny is always studying. So serious.” She closed her eyes briefly and leaned towards him as he whispered in her ear. He'd kissed her in the depths of the bookstacks earlier that week. A small kiss, barely anything really, yet it had sent her into the clouds for the rest of the day. Now, she tuned to him in anticipation, her eyes heavy as she looked up at him.

“Not always...”

Viktor chuckled as he brushed a knuckle to her chin. “No?”

Hermione shook her head. “No.” Her eyes were drifting shut again.

“Hm. You can be, how you say, adventurous...?”

“I can be adventurous. Sometimes.” She didn't need to look up to know he was smiling that radiant smile that he reserved for her.

“Ah, sometimes” Viktor's fingertips were like hypnosis. “Go to the Yule Ball with me.”

Hermione paused for a moment as she processed his words. “What?”

“Go to the Yule Ball with me, Her-my-oh-nee.” Viktor made a concerted effort to say her name properly, and the effort caused the smile forming to turn brilliant. She threw caution to the wind and hugged him tightly, loudly proclaiming, “Yes!”

Viktor laughed at her enthusiasm and gently held her in his arms. They ignored the sound of groaning and muttered swearing from several bookstacks. As they pulled away, Viktor took her chin in his hand and gently placed a chaste kiss against her lips. She stilled for a second before pressing back into him, her hands tight on his robes. She could feel his hard muscles under his clothes and she wondered if he could tell that he was her first kiss. She pulled away gently and batted her eyes at the sunlight that made everything just a little too bright. She smiled as she felt Viktor lean into her, whispering in her ear.

“You will be the most beautiful one at the Ball.” She blushed and softly slapped his chest, causing him to laugh and pull her into him for a hug.

“I actually...don't know.” She admitted sheepishly. Ginny raised an eyebrow and shrugged again.

“I'm sure we'll find something.”

Hermione fussed over her dress incessantly. Why was there so much tulle? Were the sparkles fading? Did she know a sparkle-making spell? Would she have enough time to pop into the library to learn one?

“Relax, Hermione. You look beautiful.” Lavender batted her hands as they made to pluck at the tulle again. “No more fussing, or you'll rip the fabric.”

“Maybe this was too much. I should change. I'm sure I can find something else, or transfigure something-”

“You are not changing 10 minutes before the big entrance, are you mad?” Ginny said incredulously. Hermione sighed in frustration. She hated this.

Ginny hummed as she finished tugging the final curls into place. “There, perfect. Look.”

Hermione turned to the floor-length mirror and gasped. Between Lavender and Parvati doing her makeup, and Ginny doing her hair, the Gryffindor girls had really outdone themselves. “Now this is magic.” She muttered, making the girls roar with laughter.

“Ready, mate?” Theo tugged on his dress robes. Draco grimaced in the mirror and nodded. He was going to Pansy of course, but his mind drifted to another brunette. One with curls, and golden brown hair. He stretched his neck and shrugged his shoulders one last time before nodding again.

“Alright, I'm ready. Let's go meet the girls.”

Hermione stood at the top of the staircase leading down to the Hall and glanced at the bottom to see if Krum had arrived yet. She smiled softly when he waved to her from below, and she took her first step down. Her eyes drifted slightly to the left and she nearly missed the next step as her eyes met Draco's. His stunned expression lifted her chin in a way that she hadn't expected, and she confidently walked down the rest of the stairs to meet her date.

“Herminny.” Viktor extended his arm to her, and she gratefully took it.

“Viktor.”

“You look beautiful. Even more beautiful than usual.”

She smiled shyly and lowered her eyes shyly. She'd never been the beautiful one before, and she wasn't sure how to react. Not a moment too soon, Viktor crooked his finger under her chin and lifted it so that she was looking at him. He leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Beautiful. Shall we dance?”

Hermione nodded, a fierce blush fighting to rise on her cheeks as she clutched his arm tremblingly. She wordlessly followed him to the entrance, waving at Harry who was being prodded by Parvati to follow. She got into position and Viktor smoothly led them into a traditional waltz, his arms strong under her fingertips. She smiled sweetly at him but could immediately feel the difference in partners. Where Draco was smooth and dominant, Viktor was soft and reassuring. Faintly, she wondered why she seemed to prefer one over the other.

Too soon, the waltz finished, and they separated to bow and curtsy. Dumbledore announced that the Hogwarts students would now dance a traditional Hogwarts routine of the waltz. Viktor winked at her lightly as the speech concluded.

“I'll be watching you.”

Hermione giggled as she watched his stride away to a table. Draco took his place, and she took in a deep breath as she looked up at him.

“Granger.”

“Malfoy.”

Those were all the words needed before they instinctively gravitated towards each other. She felt her body relax into familiarity, his doing the same as his grip shifted slightly.

Faster and faster, they twirled and twisted as the routine flew by.

Her eyes met his, and their grins mirrored each other.

This was the way it was meant to be done.

Her hands slipped to a more natural position on his chest.

His hand squeezed gently against her waist before he lifted her.

A soft gasp left her lips as he dipped her low, her body yielding immediately to him with the trust that he would not drop her.

A small giggle erupted from her lips as she twirled away from him, only for him to pull her back into his chest with a low chuckle.

All too soon, the music concluded and they were left panting in front of each other with bright eyes. Draco dropped her hands and stepped back, his eyes dulling to a cool stare as he bowed. Hermione mourned the sudden loss of his warmth but dropped into an echoing curtsy.

“Draco.”

Draco paused, eyes widening slightly. Swallowing, he spoke. “...Hermione.” The answering look of pure joy would be all he needed to make it through the rest of the evening with Pansy and her too-hard grip and relentless chatter. He nodded to her and walked back to his date, noting that Viktor was coming to take his place again.

Hermione let her eyes follow Draco for a moment before she snapped them back to Viktor, dear sweet Viktor. She smiled up at him as he pulled her into a slow rotating dance, their temples pressed against each other.

“You are so beautiful, Herminny.” Viktor murmured into his ear, and Hermione smiled, though a pang of guilt flitted through her. “I think, though, you are not mine.”

Hermione frowned as she processed his words. “Not yours?”

“No. Not mine.” Viktor nodded, and Hermione pulled away.

“What do you mean?”

He pulled her gently back into his arms and shook his head. “There is another, I think, and that is, how you say, alright. It is good.”

“Another? There isn't another.” Hermione was confused and slightly panicked as she tried to understand what Viktor was saying. He hushed her and gently squeezed her hand.

“You are not ready yet. It is okay. It is good that there is another. A better other.”

Hermione shook her head adamantly, tears stinging her eyes. “There is no other. I promise. I'm sorry I-”

“No.” Viktor spoke firmly for the first time since their meeting, and Hermione blinked away her tears. “No sorry. I am always friend of Herminny. Always.” Hermione nodded slowly, and he smiled. “Even if you decide there is other man better than me.” He winked and Hermione hiccuped a small laugh.

Calmed down, she let Viktor lead her out of the dance floor to the tables where Ron, Harry, and their dates sat. She smiled up at Viktor as he grasped her hand and pressed a soft kiss to her fingertips. “I bring drinks. I'll be back.” She nodded and giggled as he shot her his most dazzling smile.

Twirling, she sighed happily. She would need to decide what to do about Draco. Was Viktor right? But that was a worry for tomorrow Hermione. She turned to Ron and Harry, and frowned at the way Ron glowered at her.

“What's wrong?”

“You. Fraternizing with the enemy.” He nodded over to Viktor, and Hermione frowned.

“The enemy? Weren't you drooling for an autograph not 2 months ago? Now he's the enemy?”

Ron sputtered at her words and began to speak carelessly. “Yeah? Well, you should've gone with someone better. Bad enough you danced with Malfoy, but Krum too? Tell her, Harry. Tell her she looks ridiculous.”

Harry shook his head quickly. “Nope, I'm staying out of this one, mate. You're on your own.” Ron shot him a glower but Harry sat firm.

Hermione felt punched in the stomach and she followed Ron out as he stormed back to the dormitories. “Better? If you wanted me to go with someone better, you know what to do next time, don't you?”

“Yeah? What's that?” He shot back.

“Next time there's an event like this, pluck up the courage to ask me first, instead of as a last resort!” She cried out, tears streaking from her eyes.

Ron's eyes went wide and he backed away as he stammered. “We-Well...that's just besides the point, isn't it?”

Hermione channelled all her fury at him as she conjured yellow birds and directed them to fly after him before she collapsed on nearby steps. Her cushioning spell had long-since faded and her feet ached but somehow her chest hurt more.

Days went by before Ron came back to apologize to her, and it took a full week longer before she finally forgave him. As it was, their studies were all-consuming, although Harry's task was the second worry that seemed to grow by the day.

“Viktor's not figured it out, has he?” Harry asked finally. The second task was tomorrow.

Hermione shook her head, smiling slightly. Her and Viktor's relationship had faded into a strong friendship, thought they kept the facade to keep his many adoring fans from bombarding him with Love Potions. He still accompanied her while she studied, but now it was more to poke fun at her and make her lose her concentration fully. A task he was exceedingly good at.

“He has a meeting with Cedric later though, maybe he's got clues. I'll ask him tonight.”

“Thanks, Hermione.” Harry squeezed her shoulders. They stood at the bridge in comfortable silence until the pattering of shoes made them look up. Colin ran up to them, panting.

“Hermione, Professor McGonagall told me to tell you to come to her office. She said she needed to speak to you and Ron about something.” Hermione looked at Harry who shrugged.

Draco scanned the crowd looking for the telltale signs of Hermione's curls, but she was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is he...?” Pansy muttered, next to him. Draco looked down at her as she looked in the same direction he was looking in. With a start, he realized she was looking for Weasley.

He bent down to mutter into her ear. “Really? Weasley?”

Pansy looked up in surprise, before meeting his look of disgust with a snarl. “Oh, like you're any better with Granger. You are not allowed to judge me.”

Draco cringed slightly and rolled his eyes. She had a point, but still. He looked back towards the front of the crowd. “Well? See either of them?”

“Nothing.” Pansy was tapping her feet impatiently and Draco fought the urge to stomp on her foot.

They both scanned the crowds before Theo passed along the task rules. Their eyes widened as they realized both were in the lake, and they craned their heads over the railing to try and see under the glassy reflection. Minutes ticked by, their fingers both tight on the railing. Their hands slowly inched towards each other's until finally they were grasping at each other for comfort as they waited for Ron and Hermione to be rescued.

The Beauxbaton girl was immediately disqualified upon resurfacing, but neither cared because it was unlikely Ron and Hermione were of any importance to her. The next to surface was a half-transformed Viktor Krum, holding an unconscious Hermione gently in his shark jaws. Draco felt the blood drained out of his face as he caught sight of her near-death expression.

“Go.” Pansy's voice came from beside him and he looked at her. Her eyes were bright and she pushed him. “Go make sure she's ok.”

“But...but you...”

“Draco Lucius Malfoy, go now!” Pansy hissed in his ear and gave him an almighty push that nearly dropped him over the railing.

With a grateful kiss on her forehead, he rushed down to the front, feigning interest in all the action. His eyes sought her out immediately, wrapped in a blanket. Her lips were blue and teeth were chattering, but she was alive. He watched her speak animatedly to Krum, pulling him into a tight hug. Her eyes slid over to meet Draco's and they both went still for a moment. She gave him a small private smile and nodded before turning back to speak to Madame Pomfrey, who was supplying warming potions to the contestants and the unwitting participants.

“She will be fine.” Draco's gaze snapped up and he saw Viktor in front of him. He immediately slid his defences into place and sneered.

“As if I care.”

“You do.” Viktor said seriously. “I see that you do.”

Draco hissed. “I don't.”

Viktor looked at him seriously. “You do. You not ready. But that is ok. She not ready too. But it is good. I accept that I am not better, if better is you.” He leaned in and looked Draco in the eye. “Only if it is you. If anyone else, I twill ake back.”

Draco blinked at Krum for a moment, slowly understanding the vague threat. Krum would only give up Hermione if it was Draco taking the spot. Draco looked down and saw that Krum had extended a hand to shake his. Nodding, Draco reached out and grasped it firmly.

Krum let go after a moment and grinned. “Please excuse me. I go back now to, how you say, take care of our girl. Yes?”

Draco smiled slowly. “Yes.” It wasn't time yet, for him and Hermione. But that was okay. They would have time. He looked out on the water contemplatively. The soft ripples in the water nearly lulled him back to a sense of peace before he spotted Potter launching out of the water with two bodies in tow. He grinned at the sight of a mop of red hair, knowing Pansy was the one shrieking, “About fucking time, Potter! What'd you do, get lost?”

Draco and Hermione continued to dance around each other, though they remained as distant as before. She would find her eyes wandering to his table, slowly drifting up until she was lingering on his lips, wondering how it would feel to have them whispering in her ear. Though a part of her continued to scold her for wanting a boy who'd called her such horrible names and treated her terribly in the past, she couldn't help but see his smile as he looked down at her and hear his low chuckle as he danced with her. People changed, right?

Draco, unfortunately, was suffering from very similar problems. He would try to avoid looking at her, going so far as to listen in on Pansy's gossip in an effort to avoid turning towards the Gryffindor trio. His mind, however, wandered to their dance at the Yule Ball. Her radiant smile, the way she'd glowed with soft beauty. He had hoped he would be able to catch her alone to interrogate her about what Viktor had said, but it seemed like they were still together. He sometimes felt her gaze on him, but when he looked over, she was turned away. He wondered what would happen if he just took her into an empty classroom to talk once and for all, but immediately squashed that idea when he realized how ridiculous it would be. Viktor must be mistaken.

And so, their fourth year at Hogwarts completed with nothing more than a memory of a beautifully practiced dance. As Draco stood in the stands watching the giant maze that had taken over the Quidditch pitch, he couldn't help but look over at the Gryffindor section. She was busy speaking to one of the Patil twins, her hair blowing in the summer breeze.

Hermione waited impatiently for Viktor or Harry to come out of the maze. She worriedly looked over at the professors. People had supposedly died in the maze before but surely that was just rumours? They wouldn't actually let a student die. There was a gasp as Harry portkey'd back to the front of the maze. She let out a shriek of victory and pumped her fist in the air with the rest of the Gryffindors but before she could let out another yell of pride, people started screaming.

“My boy! That's my boy!” Amos Diggory collapsed on the ground next to Harry who was clinging to a dead Cedric Diggory. Hermione immediately leapt to her feet and ran down the stairs, Ron hot on her trail.

“Harry, what happened?”

“He's back. Voldemort's back.” Harry choked out, unable to let go of Cedric. “I had to bring him back. I couldn't let him stay there.”

Hermione covered her mouth and buried her face in Ron's shoulder as Amos fainted from the shock of it all. Moments later, she looked up to see Harry being dragged away by Professor Moody. He would take care of things. Moody was one of the best Aurors in the Ministry.

Draco barely had time to pack his bag before he was sent straight home through the Floo in the Headmaster's office. He brushed his blond hair out of his eyes as he looked around.

“Mother?”

“Here, darling. Come. We must prepare.” Narcissa swept into the room and pulled Draco into a tight hug.

“Prepare?”

“Yes, darling. Your father will explain. Neli!” The house-elf popped in and beamed at Draco.

“Welcome home, Master Draco! Should Neli prepare some hot chocolate for the young master?”

“No, thank you Neli. Some food though, would be much needed.” Narcissa instructed, and Neli popped away.

“Why couldn't I at least have stayed until the end of the closing ceremony?”

“Darling, with the way the school year ended, do you really think it's a good idea to stay any longer than you must, given our family background?” Narcissa raised a blond eyebrow at her son.

Draco's voice faded as he recalled the lessons his mother had taught him that summer. Ways to act oblivious, ways to be politically correct when your family lifestyle was anything but. He'd learned so much but also lost so much that summer. Any semblance of childhood was ripped away from him as more responsibility was placed on his shoulders.

“Daddy?” Seren poked her father's cheeks. “Smile, Daddy.”

Draco smiled warmly at her and gently tickled her belly. “I am smiling, Seren. You know, that year was the first year that I realized how much I liked your mother. But it wasn't until next year that I managed to voice it.” He looked over at his wife, whose warm brown eyes danced with the memory of their dances.

Scorpious leaned in and stage-whispered, “You guys should ask Mum and Dad to show us their dance.” He grinned when both girls began begging for a show.

Draco graciously extended his hand to his wife as he had done long ago. “May I have this dance?”

Hermione laughed and took his hand as elegantly as she had done the very first time. “I don't think I even remember the routine anymore, do you?”

Draco leaned in and whispered in her ear as he pulled her body close to his. “Don't worry. Just follow my lead.”

Chapter Text

Previously:

Hermione laughed and took his hand as elegantly as she had done the very first time. “I don't think I even remember the routine anymore, do you?”

Draco leaned in and whispered in her ear as he pulled her body close to his. “Don't worry. Just follow my lead.”

Hermione nuzzled into Draco's neck as he swayed in his spot, their children watching them in rapt attention. “It feels like just last night that we danced like this.” She mumbled against his skin.

Draco's hand tightened around her waist briefly before he continued rubbing circles. His voice ghosted over her ear as he spoke. “You were the prettiest witch at the Ball, even with that half-Veela there.”

She let out a soft tinkling laugh as she pressed against him. “You were the most dashing Malfoy heir there.” Draco chuckled as he pulled his wife close and dipped her low. He raised his eyes to smile at his girls, sending a wink their way before he bent down and placed a chaste kiss on his wife's lips.

“Again, again!” Seren squealed and Aurelia tugged on Scorpius to dance with her. Hermione watched over her husband's shoulder as Scorpius dutifully picked up his half-sister and swung her in the air.

Finally as the girls began to grow frenzied in their tired state, Hermione clapped her hands and raised her voice.

“I think it's high time that you girls head off to bed, don't you think?”

“Aw, mum! Please, can't we stay up? Scorps is staying up, isn't he? Why can't we?” Aurelia whined, and Draco gently shushed her.

“Scorpius is older than you and has a later bedtime. When you're older, you can stay up later too. Don't worry, we'll finish the stories tomorrow. Don't you want to go to sleep so Santa will come with presents?”

Scorpius watched silently as his parents tucked in his sisters, kissing both their foreheads and giving them a great big hug each before he walked out of the room. He waited for Hermione to close the bedroom door before he smirked. “You're hoping they'll forget about the stories, aren't you?”

Hermione's face dropped slightly and she nodded. “It's a little too much for them, I think. The war was difficult for everyone. I'd like to shield them just a little longer.

Draco reached over and carefully folded his wife into his arms. “They'll be alright. And you're right. It'll be long-forgotten once they've seen their presents.” He turned to Scorpius and asked, “I'm sure you want to hear the rest of it, though.”

Scorpius toyed with his nightshirt not unlike his father, and nodded. “I've never heard it all the way through. May I?”

Draco pulled him into a tight hug. “Of course. Let's go into the kitchen. We can tell you the, ah, kids-friendly version.” He laughed as Scorpius' face screwed up in disgust.

“Gross, dad! That's disgusting!”

Draco left Hogwarts Express with his head down, aware of the stares from his fellow Slytherin clan. Trying to blend in, as his mother had suggested, had been a bust from the start.

“...Death Eater...”

Draco closed his eyes briefly as he heard the whispering of two girls as he made his way through the crowd. His mother was delusional if she thought there was any way he'd make it through the school year without an incident.

“Lay low, my arse.” He muttered.

“What was that, Malfoy?” He swiveled his head to see Theo ambling over to him. His eyes widened as he took in the brunet's appearance. Theo raised an eyebrow expectantly, and he immediately dropped an air of indifference.

“Nott.”

The boys stood in front of each other silently for a moment, taking each other in. The summer had not been kind to Theo. Rumour had it that his father beat the boy when he was home, but very few knew the extent of the trauma. Draco took him in and saw only the bandages, hidden under layers of clothing that showed a slight bump on Theo's shoulder and back. He glanced down and saw the telltale sign of restrained energy as Theo tapped his fingers against his thigh. What some might dismiss as a form of nervous energy, Draco knew better.

“You look well. All things considered.” Theo spoke casually, as if they were meeting for coffee. Draco finally raised his eyes up, sweeping over his friend's too-thin body.

“You look like shit.” He growled under his breath.

Theo's fingers froze mid-tap for a moment. Theo smiled lazily. “Nothing I'm not used to.”

Draco pressed a finger to his temple as he remembered the first time he saw the scars in their dormitories in first year. He'd walked in on Theo trying to change his bandages after coming back from Christmas break. It was then and there that they'd forged a friendship that would defy logic. Where Theo was affable and friendly to most, it was only in Draco's defence that he became dangerous. Similarly, Draco was usually the unyielding cold Slytherin head, yet to Theo, he opened his heart. The expectations of their families drew them together, and it was through their mirrored trauma that they carried on.

“Hey. I'm fine.” Theo clapped Draco on the back, pulling him out of his reverie. He smiled at the blond and jutted his chin out. “Heirs to the throne, right? Come on, we're going to be late. I don't want to miss the Welcome Feast.”

Draco scoffed as he followed Theo before quickly stopping.

“Draco?” Theo turned to look at him.

Draco sighed and shook his head. “You go on ahead, I can't. I just remembered that I'm meant to be Prefect with Pansy this year. I was supposed to meet with her to get the younger kids.”

Theo shrugged and turned away giving him a half-wave as he left to find the rest of the old guard. Draco turned to scan the crowd for jet-black hair. It didn't take long before his eyes met her sharp discerning ones, and he pursed his lips.

“There you are.” Pansy scoffed as he made his way to her. “Come on, we're already late.”

“Yes, mum.” He mumbled snidely, earning a slap on his elbow. He stood stoically as she called out for the Slytherin second to fourth years to fall in line in front of them.

Hermione's eyes darted through the crowd looking for his signature blond, but was quickly preoccupied when Harry sidled over to her.

“Who are you looking for?”

“No one! Shall we get started?” Hermione asked hurriedly. She chose to ignore his questioning gaze and clapped her hands not unlike Professor McGonagall.

“Gryffindors! Years two to four, line up in front of us!” She turned to Harry and Ron, both loitering next to her. “Well?”

Ron yelled out. “Oi!” Immediately, the students fell silent, and he turned to her with a cocky grin. “That wasn't so hard.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, pushing away the light flip that her stomach did at his smile. When did he grow up?

The prefects of all houses assembled in their respective Head of House's offices, awaiting their instructions. Sitting in front of Professor McGonagall's desk, Hermione couldn't help but snap at Harry as he began to fidget.

“Will you stop moving?!” She finally let it out, sending a glare at Harry who promptly dropped his hands.

“Sorry. Feels weird, though. Being here, and not being in trouble.” He muttered.

“Imagine how I feel, seeing the three of you as this year's prefects.” Professor McGonagall declared as she briskly swept into the room. The three of them straightened in their seats automatically, waiting.

“Have a good summer, Professor?” Ron hedged nervously, earning him a stern look over her glasses.

“I had an excellent summer, thank you Mr. Weasley. And I expect that I will have an equally relaxing school year this year, as none of you will be out of your beds without permission or sneaking off to Hogsmeade. Isn't that right, Mr. Potter?” Her gaze turned to Harry, who blanched.

“You knew? All this time?”

“I did.”

“Why didn't you say anything?” Hermione asked incredulously. It was unbelievable that she'd allowed it all without at the very least docking House points.

McGonagall turned to look at her disapprovingly. “I so no reason to do anything when Albus knew as well and deigned to turn a blind eye. However, I will impress upon you the seriousness of your role this year.” She paused to ensure she had the trio's attention before she continued. “You are to be role-models. I expect you to ensure school rules are adhered to, and there can be no House preference. Is that understood, you three?”

Hermione nodded eagerly, the boys following suit much more reluctantly. Minerva smiled and withdrew a stack of papers for each from her desk.

“Good. Then here is your schedule. You will see that you are paired with a Prefect from Slytherin. Normally, we would be rotating amongst all four Houses however this year is slightly different.”

“Why is every year we enter 'slightly different'?” Harry asked quietly, Ron nodding. Hermione was too busy looking at the name next to hers for the schedule, her stomach dropping to her feet.

Draco Malfoy

“As I said, this year is a little different. Mr. Potter, your, ah, revelation, at the end of last year, was quickly stifled by the Ministry, however you know how quickly rumours fly.” Minerva pursed her lips. “As such, Professor Dumbledore has decided to pair off Slytherin prefects with Gryffindors in an effort to promote inter-House cooperation.”

“So, what? We're meant to just go along with the bloody Slytherin scum whose parents were part of-” Ron began to raise his voice indignantly, and even Hermione frowned slightly. This would never work, the rivalry between the two Houses was unmatched.

“Mr. Weasley, you will not use that language when speaking to me.” Minerva shot Ron a quelling glare, and he fell silent. After a pause, she continued. “Albus is of the opinion, and I am inclined to agree, that students are not to be blamed for their parents' transgressions. Although many of the Slytherin house have an, shall we say, unfortunate parentage, I expect you to fulfill your roles and your duty to your House. Regardless of your personal feelings. Is that understood?”

The three students nodded dully.

As they left, Ron snorted. “Imagine if the Slytherins heard her calling their parents unfortunate. Bet they'd have a fit over that.” Harry chuckled, and even Hermione had to cover a giggle at the thought.

Snape barely waited for Pansy, Theo, and Draco to sit down before he dropped their schedule in front of them.

“Your schedule.” He sneered. “You'll notice that you are paired with Gryffindors. You will be rotating shifts, but your partners stay the same. As prefects, you will enforce school rules without prejudice. There will be no changes in partners. You will make do.” His eyes bore into Draco's, who glared back.

Draco dropped his eyes down to the papers in front of him.

Hermione Granger

Of all people, it had to be her.

Pansy peered over his shoulder and looked down. “Who'd you get? Granger? Bleh. I got Weasley. You, Theo?”

Theo's voice carried no hint of emotion as he read out the name. “Harry Potter.” His eyes lifted and he met Draco's stare.

Pansy looked between the two boys and back down at her paper. Yep, we are fucked.

Hermione's pit of unease only grew as she listened to Dumbledore's and subsequently, Dolores Umbridge's speeches. She chewed on her thumb nail worriedly.

“What's she on about?” Ron asked quietly. Harry shrugged and they both turned to Hermione.

“It means...that the Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts.” She gave them each a weighted look before turning her eyes to the Professors table. Dumbledore's face was impassive but McGonagall looked furious as she shot glares at Umbridge.

Draco crossed and uncrossed his arms anxiously as he waited for Hermione in the Prefect lounge. They were supposed to be meeting here after dinner to start their rounds together. He glanced at the time on the wall and scowled. He was 10 minutes too early. He dropped into a seat with a sigh.

Momentarily, Hermione rushed into the room in a flurry, dropping her bags on the desk with a loud thump. She paused when she noticed Draco already at the table, and she smiled sheepishly.

“Draco.” They'd ended the school year on a relatively good term, and although he had disappeared shortly before the Closing Ceremony, Hermione hoped she wasn't mistaken in her familiarity.

Draco, who had spent the summer getting drilled by his mother on politics, morals, and how to toe the line, felt his lips curl into a genuine smile. He stopped it and turned it into a sneer as he gave her a cool once-over. “Granger.” He watched her smile dim and promptly quashed the resulting guilt that formed in his chest.

Hermione sighed as she slipped into a seat across from him. “Back to Granger?” When he said nothing, she shook her head to clear her thoughts, Professor McGonagall's words echoing in her head. “Even so, I hope it's alright that I continue to call you Draco.” She lifted her eyes to look at him.

“Call me whatever you like, Granger. Don't expect me to cooperate.” His voice was cold, though a shiver ran down his body at the way her lips formed around his name.

She rolled her eyes and muttered. “Of course. Why would anyone expect you to cooperate?” She missed the sneer turn into a grin as she turned away. “Come on, we'd better get started. Bring the floor-plan so we can split up and finish our section faster.”

Draco smirked as he got up from the table without the floor plan. He crossed the room with long strides that quickly outpaced hers. “No need, Granger. I've already memorized our section boundaries. I assume you have as well?”

Hermione looked up at him with her jaw hanging slightly. “You did?”

Draco raised an eyebrow, pulling the door open. “You're not the only one who likes to be prepared.” He drank in her face from behind his indifferent facade. It was always so open, so full of expression. Faintly, he wondered if he would ever get enough of it. Instead, he nodded his head to the open door. “After you.”

Hermione muttered a 'thanks' as she walked out, him following her.

The school year started with several incidents of misconduct that lead to Hermione blowing up at two first years.

“No! You cannot go around spray-painting lewd drawings-Draco will you please help me!” She cried out in frustration as she heard his muffled laughs behind her.

Draco bit his lip as he tried to stop his laughter but it was no use. She was too much, hair flying and hands waving. He finally composed himself enough to shoot the first years (Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, what a revolting pairing) a sharp look.

“10 points each from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Go.” He watched as the two boys ran off with a guilty look on their faces. He turned to find Hermione with her arms crossed with an irritated look on her face. “What?”

“You could help me more.” She huffed, and he rolled his eyes.

“Anyone ever tell you you're too uptight?” Draco regretted his words as soon as they left his tongue, but it was too late. Hermione's face shuttered and she stiffly turned on her heel. He strode after her, easily keeping up. “Oh come on.” He groaned inwardly. He kept pace with her as he patiently waited her to speak again.

Hermione refused to look at him, as she walked as briskly as she could, her back straight as a rod. However, his silence began to irritate her as their footsteps echoed in the empty halls. She whirled around, finally, and stamped her foot in frustration. “Stop following me!”

Draco smirked as he crowded her. He grinned as she began to back away, and he kept advancing until her back thumped softly against the castle wall. He put a hand on the wall next to his face and leaned into her.

“No.”

Hermione's eyes went wide and she jutted her chin out, tilting her face to look him in the eyes stubbornly. She would not budge, but it seemed that neither would he. The moment stretched long before Draco finally realized their position. He smoothly stepped back and dropped his hand from the wall, his fingertips brushing her sleeve. He sidestepped her to walk through the open doorway next to her without another glance, and she blinked. They'd walked back to the Prefect lounge.

A sense of unease settled over Draco as he watched Potter attempt to argue with Umbridge over the revival of the Dark Lord. Oh, if only you knew. He dropped his eyes briefly to the desk before starting a round of scoffs and whispered jeers. He felt Granger's eyes on him but he was relentless, until Potter was bright red with anger. He had one job to do, by his father more time before everything fell into place. To do that, he needed to discredit Potter a little while longer.

“Why do you do that?” Hermione asked. They'd been walking the corridors without speaking for the last half hour.

“Do what, Granger.” Draco asked the question as a statement. His mind was elsewhere. His mother had been cryptic in her latest owl letter, telling him only to keep his head down and to listen to Professor Snape.

“Treat Harry and everyone else so coldly.”

Draco turned to give her a quizzical look. “I never claimed to be nice.” He turned away, confused at the development.

“No, but you're not cruel. At least, not...always.” She trailed off as she looked away. Not to me.

Draco kept his eyes forward as he turned her words over in his head. Frankly, she had no idea the state that the wizarding world was about to be in now that the Dark Lord had resurfaced. He clenched his hands at his side and shrugged.

“I am who I am.” I promised to protect you, and I will.

Days passed and their week-long rotation ended without incident. Without so much as a farewell, Hermione and Draco fell back to their friends. It wasn't until weeks later when Harry showed Hermione and Ron the result of his detention with Umbridge that Hermione finally approached Draco. In Potions class. In front of everyone.

“Draco.”

Draco looked over his bubbling cauldron at her, laughter still in his eyes. “Granger?”

She crossed her eyes and she glanced at his friends, suddenly shy. Theo gave her a warm smile, but Pansy scowled at her while Blaise looked on impassively. She brought her gaze back to Draco, who had a bored look on his face. “I'd like to speak to you after class.”

“Ooh, is he in trouble? You're using your prefect voice, Granger.” Theo teased as he wrapped his arm around Draco's shoulder. Hermione flushed slightly but kept her eyes on him. Draco raised an eyebrow and nodded his head.

“Good.” Hermione turned on her heel before a thought sparked in her head. Turning back to face the Slytherins, she placed her hands on the desk. “Actually, Parkinson and Nott. Could you come along too? We can all meet in the prefect lounge. Harry and Ron will be there too.”

“And why would we do that?” Pansy asked coolly. Hermione frowned slightly, unsure what to make of the spitfire of a girl.

“Please. It's important.”

Draco watched with interest as Pansy scoffed. Hermione shot him a looked before turning back to march towards her desk.

“What's that about?” Theo asked.

Draco shrugged. “No idea. Shall we go?”

Pansy folded her arms primly. “10 minutes. If it's not worth my time, I'm leaving.”

Class ended shortly, and the two sets packed their belongings, each exiting separately to converge upon the Prefect lounge.

Hermione tapped her foot impatiently as she chewed her lip.

“You reckon they'll come?” Ron asked skeptically. Harry adjusted his glasses and peered over at Hermione. He'd just had his weekly rounds with Theo last week, who was surprisingly friendly for a Slytherin, and not in the slick way that made him feel slightly used.

“They'll come.” Hermione fixed her stare at the door, her voice determined. He'll come.

Minutes later, Draco, Pansy and Theo strode in, each one carrying a different expression on their face.

“What took you so long?” Ron demanded, standing up.

Pansy's lips curled. “Miss me, Ronnikins? We haven't even had our paired rounds yet. Don't worry, I'm sure we can ask someone else to trade if you need to see me sooner.”

Ron turned beet red and he mumbled something unintelligible. Hermione looked over at him with a question in her eyes, but he refused to meet them. She glanced at Harry, who just shook his head. She rolled her eyes. Of course, the boys would have their secrets. She turned to face the Slytherins again and crossed the room to the door, locking it and casting a muffling charm around the room.

“What's that for?” Theo asked.

“It's so we're not disturbed or overheard. Harry, come here. You lot, come look at this.” She beckoned Harry to come to the table, and he reached out his hand obligingly. He waited for the Slytherins to gather around before he slowly removed the bandage covering the back of his hand.

Theo hissed at the sight of the hand, and even Draco scowled.

“What the fuck is that?” Theo's voice was cold enough to cause Harry to flinch.

“Lines.” Harry mumbled. “Umbridge assigned me lines for detention. She has a special quill, and this is what it does.”

“That's...that's foul.” Pansy was uncharacteristically vehement in her tone, making Ron look up. Hermione grimly nodded, looking at Draco who was still trying to recover from his shock.

Collecting himself, Draco looked up at her with a blank expression. “What are we supposed to do about this?”

Hermione balked. “Tell the teachers! Tell Dumbledore! We have to do something!”

He rolled his eyes and gave Pansy a long-suffering look. “Gryffindors.”

She grinned at him. “Gryffindors.” She turned to face Hermione. “And why should we tell the teachers? They won't do anything. No one ever takes Slytherins seriously.” Not even Snape.

“I wonder why, racists the lot of you.” Ron muttered under his breath, and Draco had to lunge at Pansy to keep her from slapping him in the face.

“You say that to my face, Weasley!”

“Alright, I will!” Ron yelled back angrily. “Why should anyone listen to you lot, when all you do is call people blood traitors and Mudbloods? Do you even-”

“ENOUGH!” Harry's voice overwhelmed everyone else's and they turned to him. He pulled his sleeve down as he tried to hide the scar again. Draco caught the momentary flash of pain cross Theo's face before it melted away. “We can't tell the teachers anything. No, Hermione.” He stopped her from interrupting with a look. “Even if we told both McGonagall and Snape, you really think they can do anything again Umbridge? She's got the Ministry behind her. You said it yourself at the Welcome Feast. The Ministry is interfering at Hogwarts.”

“What about Dumbledore?” Draco asked quietly. He hated the feeling of begging the old crone, but this was mad.

Harry looked at him and shook his head. “Dumbledore...he's got his own things to deal with.” Something in his voice stopped any further arguments.

They stood in a circle for a long time before Hermione quietly asked, “Then what do we do?” No one responded.

“We do the best we can.” Everyone turned to look at Draco, who was looking at Hermione. Her eyes widened as she saw earnestness reflected in his. She dipped her chin into a nod, and gave him a small smile.

“Alright! So what's the plan?” Theo said brightly.

Draco stole a glance at Hermione, his heart thudding at the realization that for the first time in their schooling, they were on the same side.

The next weeks remained markedly quiet as the six of them returned to their respective houses and informed their charges of the new unspoken rules. No rule-breaking around Umbridge. No talking back, no pranks, not so much as groan when she told them to put their wands away. Everyone was to be on their best behaviour. Hermione reached out to Padma Patil and Anthony Goldstein, the Ravenclaw Prefects, while Ron spoke to Hannah Abbott and Macmillan, the Hufflepuff Prefects. Both sets noted that Umbridge had subjected to their own charges to similar punishments, and agreed to relay the message to everyone. There was some argument about why exactly they couldn't speak to the House Heads or the Head Boy or Girl, but that was quickly resolved when everyone was reminded again of the Welcome Feast speech.

Yet, despite their best efforts, Umbridge seemed to be two steps ahead. The first shock came when she was granted the title of High Inquisitor. Hermione's mood turned ghastly when she spotted the article Rita Skeeter had written in the Daily Prophet.

“It's repulsive, creating a role like that. It essentially renders Dumbledore nothing more than a figurehead!” She threw down the newspaper for the second time before picking it back up as she worried her lip.

Draco pulled the newspaper away from her and fixed her with a look. “Enough.”

Hermione frowned and tried to tug the newspaper back, but his grip was firm and she didn't want to rip it. She huffed and tried to glare back at him, but he merely smirked and pushed his remaining croissant over to her.

“Eat.”

She looked down at the pastry and felt her shoulders relax slightly. She looked back up at him, smiling, but he'd already turned away to finish his notes for Transfiguration. Plucking it from the plate, she closed her eyes and bit into the middle of the croissant width-wise. A soft moan left her lips as she tasted chocolate filling. “Oh, gods. I needed that.”

Draco stole a look at her from the corner of his eye, pausing his note-taking. His fingers twitched around his quill as the moan reached his ears, and he felt his robes begin to tighten. Swallowing hard, he willed himself to keep his eyes on the parchment in front of him.

“Good?”

“It's perfect. You sure you don't want some?” Hermione reached out the croissant, but was quickly waved away.

“Take it, I don't want it.”

Hermione's hand paused on the path up to her mouth again, and lowered the croissant back to the plate. She was silent for a moment before she quietly spoke. “Wouldn't want something tainted by a Mudblood, right?”

Draco frowned and looked over at her. Her eyes glistened but no tears fell as they sat there in the Prefect lounge, staring at each other. Seconds stretched before them and Hermione was the one to break first, dropped her eyes down with a self-deprecating laugh.

“S-sorry, I...I don't know why I said that.” She froze when she saw Draco's hand reach up.

Draco didn't even know he'd moved until he felt her soft skin at his fingertip. Grey eyes fixed on her chocolate brown, he swiped his thumb against the corner of her lips. He pulled his thumb away and she watched as he brought it to his lips, licking the flecks off.

“Crumbs.”

His low voice sent a vibration straight through her, and she felt her lips part slightly. Their eyes held each other for a moment longer before they each dropped to their respective work.

“Are you questioning my methods, Minerva?” Umbridge asked as she slowly ascended the castle steps leading to the second floor.

“Not at all, Dolores. I'm merely questioning the merit at which-” Minerva took a step up, looking down at her.

“Because to question my methods would be to question the Ministry.” Umbridge took another step up, rising in height.

“Now, I would never-” Minerva protested as she continued to go up a step.

“And to question the Minister, well, now that would be tantamount to disloyalty. I am a tolerant woman, Minerva, but one thing I will not stand for, is disloyalty.” Umbridge spoke haughtily as she took yet another step up, staring Minerva down.

“Disloyalty...?” Minerva's face paled as she stepped down, aghast.

“Who snitched?” Draco had sidled over to Hermione, both of them watching the scene unfold.

She pressed a hand to her mouth, shocked. “I don't know...”

Draco glanced at her and reached his hand out to touch her before dropping it to his side.

Hermione's heart hammered as she watched Umbridge stride confidently toward Professor Trelawney, causing the Divination professor to scurry backwards. She winced as the poor woman fell back against her luggage, holding one of her bags in front as a shield to hide behind.

“You, you can't do this!” Professor Trelawney cried out pleadingly.

Umbridge looked down at her with glee. “I think you'll find that as High Inquisitor, I can.”

“What's going on here? Why are all of you out of classes?” Professor McGonagall materialized next to her and Hermione pointed to the professors in the courtyard.

“Professor Trelawney's been sacked.” Ron explained, scared.

Minerva stared at him and then back at the teachers before she drew herself to her full height. “I think not, Mr. Weasley.” She pushed her way through the throng on students and gently held Professor Trelawney. “Come, Sybil. Let's put your things back in your tower. Miss Brown, Miss Patil- no, the other one. Yes. Come help Professor Trelawney-” She was waving her hand at Lavender and Parvati, who had begun to run towards her.

“Ahem. Ahem.” Umbridge's simpering cough sent a cold chill through everyone. She smiled obligingly at Minerva. “Sybil has been relieved of her duties, and therefore is no longer needed at Hogwarts.”

“No-no longer needed at Hogwarts...?” Trelawney's voice trembled and Minerva gripped her colleague tightly as a sob ripped from the poor woman's throat.

Umbridge looked down at Minerva in disdain and raised her chin. “You look like you have something to say, Minerva.”

“Oh, I have a few things I would very much like to say, Dolores.” Minerva's scathing tone made half the students flinch back, but Umbridge held her ground, unperturbed.

Just then, the doors to the castle opened and Dumbledore strode out amid gasps from students. “What's all this?”

“Albus, please tell Professor Umbridge here that she cannot just fire staff members!” Minerva implored.

“As I was saying, as High Inquisitor, I am allowed to oversee the hiring and firing of staff members at Hogwarts-” Umbridge began.

“However you are not allowed to expel them from the castle itself.” Dumbledore interrupted. “That privilege, sadly, still resides with the Headmaster.”

Umbridge looked at him in affront before turned on her heel and walking away. “For now.”

Hermione unclenched her hands and sighed. Her eyes sought out Harry's. This was bad.

Draco swallowed hard as he watched the scene from a balcony above.

“Think the Gryffindors will have another plan cooked up?” Theo muttered as he leaned against a pillar. Pansy let out a puff of air. Draco kept his eyes on Dumbledore.

“It's not enough.” He said flatly. He felt both Slytherins turn to look at him, but he kept his eyes on the old man.

“So what's the plan?” Theo asked, his voice taking on a dangerous note. Draco closed his eyes and considered the possibilities. How to protect her, and by association, the rest of them? He opened his eyes and turned to face them.

“We need to act like Slytherins.” He watched as realization dawned in their eyes, and slow, easy smirks lit up their faces. This, they could do. This was easy.

He stole one last glance out the window, and spotted her signature curls. She wouldn't agree to this, but hopefully she would be smart enough to see the logic. He couldn't imagine any other way forward.

Hermione waited anxiously at the Hog's Head with Ron and Harry. She'd put out feelers for anyone interested in learning D.A.D.A properly, and was expecting several students to arrived. Whether they would or not, was a different story entirely.

“I really think we should have asked along some of the Slytherins. It's not right that only the other Houses benefit from Harry's experience.” She said for the umpteenth time.

Ron rolled his eyes. “Oh come off it. You really think anyone of them snakes will want to learn from Harry? I know you're talking to Draco, but-”

“Says the boy who's speaking to Pansy Parkinson on a first-name basis!” Hermione shot back. Harry groaned tiredly. He'd been having more nightmares about the stupid door that he couldn't place.

While Harry began to train in Occlumency with Snape, and Ron trained for Quidditch tryouts, Hermione found herself, more often than not, back in the Prefect lounge with Draco. Their studying habits still mirrored each other, and they fell into an easy comfort.

“Don't you need to practice for Quidditch? I believe there's a match in a few weeks.” She asked suddenly. Draco looked up from his textbook and smirked.

“I am fairly good on a broom, you know. I don't need nearly as much practice as Weasley.”

Hermione hummed skeptically. “If you say so. Don't be upset if we beat you in the next game. I hear Ronald's been doing fantastically in training. He's almost a sure thing to get onto the team.”

Draco frowned as a hint of jealousy spilled into his voice. “Weasley may get on the Gryffindor team, but he doesn't stand a chance in the actual match against us.”

Hermione shrugged, her attention turning back to the books in front of her. Draco pretended to continue studying as he watched her. He could tell that she wasn't getting enough sleep. Her eyelids were swollen and red most nights, but she never let slip what was causing it.

She yawned widely into her mouth, her brain contemplating the next lesson for Dumbledore's Army. She stole a furtive glance at Draco, still feeling a pang of guilt at excluding him. She bit back a sigh and mentally shook her head to try and clear her mind. An idea popped into her head and she looked up.

“Do you know how to perform a Patronus charm?”

Draco looked back at her with a curious look. “No. Do you?”

Hermione smiled and motioned for him to stand up. “I do! Here, let me teach you.” What could it hurt?

As Christmas holidays arrived, the castle began to sprout various decorative ornaments. Hermione grinned as she entered the Prefect lounge to find it full of festive decorations including a small tree in the corner of the room. She twirled where stood, taking it all in.

“Granger.”

She turned to see Draco leaning against the wall, and she smiled brightly. “Draco. Isn't it beautiful?”

Draco nodded as he took in her robes. She'd transfigured a candy cane-themed fringe on the hems, her Gryffindor tie matching as well. “Nice tie.”

Hermione blushed as she looked down, remembering it. “Thanks! Are you going home for Christmas?”

Draco nodded noncommittally. “Mother has organized her traditional ball, and I'll be expected to attend.”

“A ball!” Hermione stepped towards him in excitement. “How lovely! Oh, I'm sure you'll have loads of fun!” She could feel herself starting to ramble, and quickly caught herself, panting slightly as she realized how close they were.

Draco's eyes were transfixed on hers as he let her come to him, staying still. When she paused, he slowly reached up to tug a loose curl from her face. He watched her cheeks pinken slightly. “And you? Heading home for the holidays? Or are you going to Potter's?”

She quaked at the huskiness of his voice and breathlessly replied. We are all going to see the Weasleys. My parents are coming too.”

He nodded, tucking the curl behind her ear. The graze of his fingertips against her skin caused her to close her eyes, and lean into his hand. They stood there, unmoving, for a moment before Draco made to move away. He pulled his hand away from her face, noting how she almost followed. As he tried to put space between them, he found himself rooted in his spot. Frowning, he looked around.

Hermione looked up at Draco, who seemed to be struggling with something. “Draco, are you alright?”

“Granger, can you move?” Draco asked, still looking around. He watched her move her hands freely, but not her lower half.

“I..I can't! What's happening?” Hermione's voice raised.

“I'm not sure..” Draco finally looked up and raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Oh.”

“What is it? What's that-is that mistletoe?” Hermione blinked as she looked up at the plant growing from the ceiling just above them. Draco lowered his gaze to meet hers, both of them wanting to ask the same question. As the moment grew longer, she dropped her eyes and feigned a laugh.

Draco's eyebrows rose. “Something funny?”

“Just that whoever cast the spell clearly needs to work on their spell-work. I heard that the mistletoe is only supposed to grow if both people like each other.”

Draco studied the top of her head for a moment, remembering Krum's words last year. Had her feelings changed already? Carefully, he let out a low chuckle as well. “You're right, it's a mistake.”

Hermione felt a stab through her chest at his words, and she closed her eyes.

“But, the spell is quite unbreakable. There's only one way out.” Her eyes snapped open and she looked up at him, noting twin pink spots on his pale cheeks. She worried her lip as her eyes drifted down from his eyes. Her eyes fluttered as she watched him lean down slowly.

Draco felt his heart thudding in his chest and hoped she couldn't hear it too. He held his breath for a moment as he lowered himself to her height. Hovering against her lips, he said softly, “To break the spell.”

Hermione mumbled back, “To break the spell.”

Her eyes fell shut and she leaned in with him, their lips meeting. Mist swirled in her mind as she fell into the kiss, her hands moving on their own to grip his robes. Distantly, she heard his clothing rustle, and immediately fell into him as he circled one arm around her waist, the other cupping her cheek tenderly. All too soon, they broke apart, and both stood panting, looking at each other with their hands still in place.

“Can you move?” Draco asked, his breath ghosting over her lips.

She tightened her grip on his robes as she tried to lift her foot. Her heart sank as she felt her foot leave the floor ever so slightly. She swallowed hard as she took a chance, brown eyes drowning in silver.

“No.”

Draco's lips curled into a ghost of a smile that told her he knew she was lying. Before she could explain herself, he lowered his lips back to hers, whispering, “Me neither.”

Their lips met eagerly, fingers tightly wound as they pressed against each other once more. Draco noted how her body bent towards him and smiled as he remembered how she yielded to him during the Yule Ball last year. He ran his tongue against the seam of her lips, begging for entry. Hermione gasped softly and he took the advantage to coax her tongue into play. She tilted her head back as she tasted him, and she moaned softly.

His hand moved to cup the back of her head possessively as he pulled her backwards with him until he was falling into the couch, tugging her down with him. His low chuckle followed her squeal as she fell into his lap, and he pulled her face back up to his, dipping down to kiss her once more.

He groaned in pleasure, “Hermione...”

She felt a wave of pleasure pass over her and tightened her hold on his clothing.

“Salazar, Hermione, fuck-” Draco muttered against her lips. His grip on her waist dropped to cup her ass, making her whimper.

“Draco...” She bit her lip as he pressed kisses down the column of her neck. Her fingers wound themselves into his hair and it was her turn to laugh delightedly when she heard his soft snarl against her shoulder. He tugged her robes to pull her deeper into his lap as she tried to sit up, and she was swept into another electrifying kiss. 

Draco dragged his fingers down her side, smiling when it brought out a whimper, and he gently pushed her robes off her shoulders.  Pulling away, he pressed gentle kisses into her shoulder making her arch her chest towards him.  He glanced up to look at her as he toyed with the hem of her uniform top. Her face flushed at his expression, openly wanting, and she guided his hand under her shirt. She let him let him cup her breast, moaning and throwing her head back as he squeezed gently. 

He growled lowly and swiped a thumb over where her nipple would be, and watched her eyes fly open. "Look at me."  He murmured, his breath ghosting her neck.  He watched in satisfaction at the goosebumps that rose and he leaned into lick the column of her neck. Hermione jerked in his lap and whimpered before dropping her face down to pull him into another scalding kiss.

All too soon, he felt her pull away and frowned as he tried to chase her lips. He blinked his eyes open and saw her smiling shyly down at him. Her top was pulled up over her chest and wrinkled, and her lips were swollen and red from kissing.

“Hi.” She searched his face for any hint of remorse or disgust or anything. There was none.

“Hi.” He said, panting.  He grumpily watched her pull away slightly to tug her clothes back into place, though her tie remained askew.  

She let out a giggle at his expression, and it soon turned into laughter when he tugged her down to nuzzle his nose to hers. She watched with curiosity as he fished his wand out of his pocket. “What are you doing?”

Draco furrowed his brow in concentration and waved his wand. “Expecto patronum!” Silvery mist flowed from his wand. Her eyes grew wide as she watched it, waiting on bated breath to see if it would take form, and what form it would take. She gasped as the mist formed into a grey fox, staring unblinkingly at her.

“Wow.” Draco stared at it in awe.

Hermione fished her own wand out of her robes and cast her Patronus, an otter flowing out easily. Together, they sat and watched the two animals play until they slowly dissipated.

“Happy Christmas, Draco.” Hermione whispered.

He grinned and abruptly kissed her neck, causing a bright giggle to slip out of her lips. “Happy Christmas, Hermione.”

“10! 9! 8! 7! 6!” Sirius roared drunkenly as Fred and George blew on noisemakers next to him. Hermione grinned as she watched her friends counting down to ring in the New Year. She loved everyone here so much, and she was ever so grateful to have them all, but yet somehow she felt like someone was missing. She quickly shook her head and smiled brightly as she saw Harry come over to sit next to her.

“Alright, Hermione?” Harry asked quietly.

She nodded and rested her head against his shoulder. “Just taking it all in, that's all.”

“Are you sure?”

Brown eyes met green, and a moment of understanding passed. Her eyes went wide as she felt the same melancholy reflected in his eyes, and he smiled sheepishly.

“Nott?” She whispered. Harry looked down, suddenly very interested in the dingy rug under his feet.

“Is that bad?”

Hermione slapped his arm. “Why on earth would it be bad?!”

Harry grinned and bumped her shoulder. “What about you?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Anything happening with Malfoy?”

She paled next to him. “What? There's nothing! Nothing!” She waved her hands wildly.

“5! 4! 3!” Arthur yelled out from the smaller couch, his non-bandaged arm waving wildly.

“Nothing? Hermione, you call him Draco.” Harry looked at her with a pointed look and she blushed.

“Yes well...” It was her turn to stare at the carpet. Harry laughed and took her hands in his, yelling out along with everyone else.

“2! One! HAPPY NEW YEAR!” The room roared as Tonks set off confetti charms inside, much to Remus' shock.

Harry leaned in to Hermione and gently clinked his glass of sparkling champagne against hers. “Happy New Year, Hermione. Here's hoping we get everything we hoped for this year.”

Her eyes filled with emotion as she hugged him tightly. “Happy New Year, Harry.”

They broke apart after a moment, and Harry said cheekily, “Can you believe Ron and Pansy?” Hermione dissolved into giggles at the vision it conjured.

The holiday cheer didn't last long before Umbridge resumed her reign of tyranny over Hogwarts. Every day, the Prefects were called into her office to be given a list of new decrees to memorize. When it became clear that Umbridge could not control all of the Prefects, she set out a new system.

“Inquisitorial Squad? What is this?” Ron asked in disgust. The Prefects had all taken to gathering in the lounge once a month to debrief.

Ernie leaned against the fireplace mantle and rubbed his face. “She's trying to separate us. She's hoping that if she's able to create a division, we'll fall apart.”

“But we won't let her get her way.” Harry said emphatically, and several others nodded. Hermione's eyes sought out Draco's but noticed that he was looking anywhere but at her. Frowning, she looked at all three Slytherins and noted how disengaged they were. Odd.

“How could you?!” Hermione stormed into the Prefect lounge, walking straight for the Slytherins with Ron and Harry following behind her.

“Here we go.” Theo muttered, and the green trio stood up from their seats. They knew the drill. Schooling their faces into sneers, Pansy was the first to speak.

“I'd watch your tone around us, Mudblood.” She pointed arrogantly to her shiny new badge.

Ron was barely restrained by Harry as he saw red. “Don't! Pansy swore you'd never-”

“Swore? Doesn't sound like me.” Pansy pretended to pick at her fingernails. She shot a disdainful look at Hermione and rolled her eyes. “Why would I ever swear anything for her? For any of you?”

“Theo? Come on, mate. You aren't like them. You didn't really...right?” Harry's voice broke as he pleaded, and Theo had the sudden urge to throw himself out the window as his heart broke. Instead, he fixed an imperious look on his face.

“Not like them? Why, because I told you some pretty words? Tell me, Potter. Do you always believe everything people tell you?” He forced himself to watch Harry's face crumple.

Hermione only had eyes for Draco. She walked up to him, eyes searching his, looking for even a hint of a truth that wasn't this. Instead, she just found cold grey eyes, that didn't see her as Hermione, but as Granger. Still, she persisted.

“Draco?”

Draco's face twisted into a snarl. “Keep my name out of your filthy mouth, Mudb-” He was cut off by Hermione's hand as she slapped him across the face. He caught her thunderous expression before his face twisted to the side. It's done.

The trio threw themselves into Dumbledore's Army, training night and day whenever they could. They held each other together as they fought not to break down. Surprisingly to no one, it was Ron who finally did.

Hermione held him in her arms tightly as he cried hot tears into her shoulder, her own heart broken. She looked up at Harry, eyes stormy.

“She swore, 'Mione. She swore she would never, and then she just...she just did it!” Ron cried hysterically. Hermione closed her eyes as she rocked him and rubbed soothing circles into his back.

Draco scowled as Theo's sobs became unbearable, and he threw open his divider with a huff. “Enough, Theo. Come on.” He dragged the crying boy to the empty Slytherin common room. They both stopped when they saw Pansy curled up on a seat near the fireplace. Her face lit up by the fireplace showed the marks of fresh tears.

Theo broke down into new tears and pulled Pansy into him, both of them dissolving into each other as they sought comfort. Draco leaned against the mantle of the fireplace, staring into it with a dead expression in his eyes.

“We had to do it. There was no other way. They'll be safe to make Dumbledore's Army if we are on the other side. We'll make sure of it.” He didn't know who he was trying to convince more: them or himself.

“They're really stupid, aren't they?” Ron muttered as they watched the latest bumbling attempt at infiltration by the Inquisitorial Squad. “Why did we like them?” His eyes darkened at the sight of Pansy being thrown back after a failed blasting hex. Neither Harry nor Hermione answered. Turning away, he said dismissively. “Should've known they could never change.”

Draco bit his lip as he snuck a stolen look at Hermione during Potions. It was almost time, he could feel it. They were going to need him soon, and he swore he wouldn't fail her this time. He lowered his eyes just in time as the intensity of his stare had drawn her attention. He hoped she would understand.

“Harry, are you sure?” Hermione panted as she chased after Harry.

“I saw him. I saw him in the Department of Mysteries, Hermione.” Harry shot back, and Hermione frowned. It didn't feel right. They were missing something.

“Hermione, please. You have to help me!”

She snapped out of her thoughts and quickly nodded. “We'll Floo Grimmauld Place first, just to make sure.” She waited for Harry to finally agree.

“Fine. But is there even a Floo that isn't being monitored?”

Hermione thought for a moment before grimacing. “Umbridge's. She wouldn't have her own being monitored. They fled towards the office, unaware that they were being watched.

Draco's eyes followed Hermione as he stepped out, Theo and Pansy following. “Let's go. You know what to do.”

Hermione looked around wildly as she waited for Harry to finish Floo-ing to see Sirius. She silently prayed that he hurried because any minute now, someone was going to round the corner and they'd be found out. She peered down the hallway, and completely missed Draco as he crept up on her. On the other side,

Pansy silently grabbed Ron, her hand clasped around his mouth as she jabbed her wand at his neck. “Not. One. Word.” She hissed, knowing she only had the element of surprise against him.

Their shuffling alerted Hermione, but she found herself wrapped up in Draco's arms seconds later. “Fancy seeing you here, Granger.” Draco drawled, dragging her backwards. He made way for Umbridge, pressing his hand tightly to muffle Hermione's whimpers. He dragged her into the office stumbling and forced her still against his body as they watched Umbridge grab Harry out of the fireplace.

From the corner of her eye, Hermione saw Theo holding Ginny hostage, Goyle grinning as he had a pinned Neville in front of him. A spark of hope lit up as she looked for Luna, but was promptly extinguished when Crabbe dragged her in with a bloody lip. Hermione moaned in pain as Draco inadvertently twisted her arm too tightly, and he loosened it. Uncovering her mouth, he hissed into her ear. “Quiet, Hermione. If you want to survive, be quiet.”

She stilled in his arms as she heard him say her name. She could see Pansy whispering to Ron too, and for the first time, she looked clearly at Theo and Pansy's pained expressions. She stopped struggling as her brain began to whirl. Faintly, she watched as Umbridge slapped Harry across the face.

“...Draco?” She whispered. He let out a breath and bent his head down to touch her shoulder, closing his eyes for a moment as Umbridge was distracted by Snape's arrival.

“Yeah.” His voice had so much pain that it made her eyes well up with tears. She wanted nothing more than to pull her hands free and turn to kiss him, but her eyes snapped back to Harry.

“He's got Padfoot! He's got Padfoot in the place where it's hidden.”

Hermione heard Theo let out a small breathy laugh and she wondered if Harry had divulged who his godfather was to him. With Snape gone, Harry sought out Hermione's eyes in genuine fear for Sirius' life. A split second decision was all it took for Hermione to wrench herself out of Draco's protesting arms.

“Tell her! Tell her, Harry. If you don't, I will.”

“Tell me what?”

“I can lead you to Dumbledore's weapon. She steeled herself and looking over at Ron. Her eyes slid over to Pansy and she gave the girl a small smile of acknowledgement. Pansy nodded imperceptibly, shooting Theo and Draco a look.

Hermione turned back to Umbridge. “I can show you the way, but Harry is part of it so he needs to come too.”

“I can't believe that worked. I can't believe that worked!” Hermione mumbled as they picked their way back to the castle from Grawp's enclosure.

“Hermione, there's no time. We need to go!” Harry panted as he jogged with her, and she nodded. They made their way back to Umbridge's office and threw the door open.

“Harry, you're okay!” Ron hugged him tightly and then Hermione, beaming. Behind him, everyone stood unbound, even the Slytherins.

Harry furrowed his eyebrows not understanding, but there was no time. He rounded on Theo, who's eyes were glittering. “We need to go to the Department of Mysteries. We could really use your help but I don't have time to convince you. Are you in or are you out?” He demanded.

Theo looked over at Draco and Pansy before shaking his head. Harry swallowed hard and nodded. He looked over at Pansy and Draco.

“And you two?”

Pansy looked away, not meeting Ron's glare. Draco kept his eyes on Hermione, who came in front of him. “Draco...please...”

His heart tightened in his chest but he knew he could not be a part of this. His parents had been clear that he could not be a part of any adventures this year. He was meant to keep his head down. He shook his head silently.

“Hermione, come on. We have to go.”

“Draco, why?”

Finally, he spoke. “I can't. I have to honour the Malfoy name.” He watched her eyes widen in shock.

“Hermione, come on!” Harry dragged Hermione by the hand, her eyes still seeking Draco's as she left. He waited for all of them to leave through the Floo before he collapsed against the desk, face in his hands.

“We did the right thing...” Theo's voice shook as he kept repeating it, while Pansy sank to the ground, eyes blank.

Scorpius sipped his second mug of hot chocolate quietly as he ruminated over the story. Setting it down on the kitchen island, he turned to his father. “Why didn't you just tell Mum that she needed to be more cautious?”

Draco raised his eyes to meet Hermione's amused look, and he smirked. “I wouldn't say that she was a particularly obedient girl back then.”

“No, I definitely was not.” Hermione retorted hotly, a smile on her face. Draco stood up and took his mug to the sink, rinsing it before drying his hands and coming to hold her from behind.

“Lucky for me, you learned to be obedient to me eventually. Sometimes.” He grinned at her tinkling giggle and pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

Chapter Text

Previously:

Finally, he spoke. “I can't. I have to honour the Malfoy name.” He watched her eyes widen in shock.

“Hermione, come on!” Harry dragged Hermione by the hand, her eyes still seeking Draco's as she left. He waited for all of them to leave through the Floo before he collapsed against the desk, face in his hands.

“We did the right thing...” Theo's voice shook as he kept repeating it, while Pansy sank to the ground, eyes blank.

“Severus, please.” Narcissa implored the man as he stood facing his window in Spinner's End, face impassive.

Bellatrix hissed as she rounded the corner of his desk, her fingers dancing across the edge. “He won't do it. Oh, he'll try his best, I'm sure he will. But when it comes right down to it, he'll slither away back into his safe little hole with Dumbledore. Once a traitor, always a traitor...”

“Make the Unbreakable Vow.” Severus turned to stare down Bellatrix, who paused in surprise. “Now.”

“Lucius, how the hell are ya?” Draco cringed at the drunk Nott Senior as he strode into the room straight from the Floo entrance. He stood behind his father and felt the distaste rolling off of him as they met in a firm handshake. The elves had just cleaned, yet there were soot marks across the floor again.

“Nott.” Lucius inclined his head stiffly, dropping the man's hand after a brief shake.

Nott Senior looked over Lucius' shoulder, grinning as he spotted Draco. He strode over to clap him on the shoulder in what would be a fatherly gesture if he hadn't been swaying so much, and if Draco didn't know just how the man used his hands to threaten his son.

“Lucius, this is your boy? Haven't seen him in years. All grown up now. You're doing a fine job of training him. Not having nearly as much trouble as I am with mine, I'll bet.” His eyes darkened. “I can't take it anymore, the bloody weeping. Boy's soft in the head and useless everywhere else. I have half a mind to be rid of him once and for all.” His tone was deadly, and Draco's stomach curdled.

Lucius smoothly steered the man towards a chair, releasing Draco from is clutches. Glaring down his nose at him, Lucius hissed as he folded himself into his own seat. “Pull yourself together, man.”

Draco felt his tongue grow heavy as he scrambled for an excuse to leave. His eyes sought his father's, who gave him a curt nod. He stiffly bowed to the two men and mumbled an excuse about having to study before he fled the room, his breath rapidly leaving his chest by the time he'd put some distance between them.

“That's right, boy! Study hard! Run along, like a good boy.” Nott's voice and raucous laughter echoed through the room, Lucius's expression a mask of distaste. “Not like it'll do you any good now.”

His fingers roved over her body, his breath brushing the shell of her ear in a way that made her tilt her neck to the side begging for his touch. She was dressed in only her bra and knickers, the latter becoming more drenched with each passing second.

“Like that?” His voice sent a thrill down her spine as he chuckled.

“Please, I need more.” Hermione whimpered as she tried to grind her ass into him. He chuckled darkly as he ground his hips into her, pushing her flush against the wall. She tried to twist around but his fingers kept her wrist caged above her shoulders as he deftly trailed his other hand over her bra

“More? Tell me what you want, my needy witch.” His voice was raspy and Hermione arched her butt backwards, relishing the contact. Draco's fingertips reached up to grab her breast, fingers twisting and flicking her nipple as he hissed against her shoulder. She shook under his body as his hips thrusting against her, and she tried to look over her shoulder.

“Let me see you, Draco. I need to touch you.” She begged, earning a groan against her skin. She whined her displeasure when his fingers slowed to a teasing circle, her areola tightening as her nipples stayed strained and peaked against. Gasping, she felt him press her closer to the wall, the texture making her shudder. Her eyes rolled back as his fingers dipped into her knickers, his thumb brushing against her most sensitive spot.

“You want to see me?” Draco murmured into her ear and she nodded eagerly.

Suddenly, the pressure on her wrists and his teasing fingers on her clit disappeared, and she turned, panting. Her eyes widened as she caught the cruel sneer on his face.

“Look at me, Mudblood.”

Hermione gasped as she sat up in bed, panting. She took in several gulps of air before taking it all in. Slowly, she withdrew her hand from inside her nightclothes, her fingers puckered and drenched with her arousal. She dropped her head into her arms and let out a soft sob, muffling herself as she released her anguish.

“Come, Draco.” Narcissa glided through Diagon Alley, her hands firmly gripping his. He didn't dare look around, opting to keep his eyes down as they turned toward Knockturn Alley. He followed her until they reached a familiar shop, and held the door open for her in a practiced air. He didn't notice the three figures that peered down at him from the rafters above.

Hermione looked around as she arrived at Platform 9 3/4 with her parents. Her eyes lit up in recognition as Ron, Ginny, and Harry made their way over to her. A quick hug to her parents and then they were climbing into the train, faces grim. Ron took the front while Ginny stood in front of Harry, sandwiching him with Hermione leading the rear in an effort to shield him from the students' stares. She found herself holding onto Harry's hand in comfort as they walked through the carriages, finally settling on the second-to-last one. Just as she stepped into the carriage, her eyes glanced up, and she caught a glimpse of Draco's blond hair in the next carriage over. A dull ache formed in her chest and she pressed her palms against her sides as she tried to catch his eye.

“'Mione?” Ron asked from inside, and her eyes slid across to meet his, a faint smile on her lips.

“Coming, Ronald.” She took his outstretched hand and stepped into the carriage. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Ron smiled.

Draco kept his eyes trained on the side table in front of him, listening to Theo's finger tapping. Pansy's scowl grew with each passing minute as she looked out the window, Blaise's face a cool mask of indifference.

“Stop fidgeting, Theo!” Pansy ground out, but it only made him pause for a few seconds before it resumed. Draco closed his eyes and leaned forward as he scrubbed his face with his hands. His head lifted at the muffled sound of Hermione speaking in the next carriage, and he caught sight of Potter staring uncharacteristically seriously through the adjoining window pane. A moment later, Harry was turned away, speaking to Ron, and Draco let his eyes drift away too. The blinds hanging above the window suddenly dropped, and Draco looked over to see Blaise lowering his wand wordlessly.

“We need to stay on track.” Draco said in a low voice. Pansy looked over at him and Theo fisted his hand. “We all made the decision last year, and you know what's coming. We can't lose anyone else.” He thought of his mother, face tight with worry as his aunt Bella had taken to unexpected visits now that she was free from Azkaban. His mind turned to his father, stiff and commanding as the General, righthand man to the Dark Lord.

“I didn't agree to anything.” All eyes turned to look over at Blaise, who had sprawled himself out on one side of the carriage carelessly.

“Zabini-”

Blaise had always been an enigma. Where Draco pretended to be cold and calculating, he was not comparison to the Zabini boy. His mother's proclivity for marrying rich men was the complete opposite of him, as he remained composed and collected at all times.

“Malfoy.” His dark eyes pinned Draco into place. No one spoke, Crabbe and Goyle's voices travelling through the thin divider that separated them from the rest of the Slytherins.

Finally, Theo let out an annoyed sigh. “Stop posturing. You're in. You've been in since the moment you saw me grab Ginny when we were working for the bitch Umbridge.”

Blaise slid his eyes to meet Theo's, letting nothing slip. “You can do whatever you like to that Weasley girl. It's of no consequence to me.”

Pansy's fist banged against the wall of the carriage, her eyes bright with fury. “Then get the fuck out!”

Again, no one moved. Blaise raised an eyebrow as he looked her over. Finally, he turned to Draco. “With her sparking off at the slightest provocation, I think you'll need all the help you can get.”

“Does that mean you're in?” Draco replied coolly.

Blaise rolled his shoulder and crossed his arms. “Yeah. I'm in.” His lips curled into a feral smile, and Draco returned it.

Leaning in, Draco spoke under his breath. “Meet in the common room after curfew. Follow my lead until then.” They nodded, returning to their unassuming postures. Theo returned to his tapping, Pansy looking outside as Draco opened the divider to include the rest of the Slytherin house. He still had to figure out how exactly he was meant to complete his mission without actually doing it. There had to be a way.

As the Hogwarts Express rounded the last bend towards the Hogwarts train station, Draco noticed the carriage door slide open and then closed. His brows furrowed and he glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed. A sneaking suspicion told him someone who didn't belong had just entered the carriage. Potter.

He waited for everyone to leave the carriage, waving Theo off as he looked back at him questioningly. He made to leave as well before abruptly stepping back in, locking the door. He'd felt the slight breeze in the carriage end at a space of seemingly dead air. There you are.

“Didn't your mother ever tell you not to stick your nose in other people's business?”

He whipped around and shot the body curse out at the wall of dead air. The only indication that the curse had connected was a thump on the floor. He carefully picked his way to the spot and used his foot to prod the area, smirking as it connected with a solid form. He reached down and grabbed Potter's invisibility cloak, yanking it off of him and revealing the Gryffindor.

“Oh right. I forgot you haven't got one of those.” Draco spat out as he looked down at Potter, frozen in place. He kept his disgust on his face as he stomped on Harry's face, smashing his nose with a sickening crack. He grabbed his trunk and strode out of the train. “Have a good trip home, Potter.” He forced himself to keep moving.

“Will. You. Stop. Eating!” Hermione smacked Ron on the arm, causing him to choke on a pasty. “Your best friend is missing!”

“Look over there, you bloody lunatic.” Ron coughed, pointed at the entrance. She looked up to see Harry waving goodbye to Luna as he walked over.

“He's covered in blood again. Why is it, he's always covered in blood?” Ginny asked quietly, and Hermione felt a pang for the girl. She'd held a candle for Harry since first year, and especially after he rescued her in second year.

Hermione looked over at the Slytherin table, her eyes darkening as she caught sight of their classmates. Theo's face was blank, betraying no emotions, as Pansy sneered in Harry's direction. Hermione wondered not for the first time if perhaps Ginny was the better choice for Harry after all.

They listened to Dumbledore's speech, exchanging shocked faces when Snape was named their new D.A.D.A teacher for the year.

“Snape as D.A.D.A professor? We're fucked.” Ron whispered, and Harry couldn't help but agree.

Draco stared blankly at the roast chicken leg in front of him, still lost in thought. He was only revived when Blaise nudged his foot from across the table. Looking up, he finally noticed that dinner was over. He'd barely eaten any.

“Look alive. Time to go.” Theo clapped his hand on Draco's back, and they stood up to file out of the hall, making their way to the Slytherin dungeons.

Theo gave Pansy a mock salute as they parted ways at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the dorms, and grinned when he dodged a mild stinging hex. Climbing the stairs, Theo stretched his arms and collapsed face first into his bed, groaning. “Home, sweet home.”

Draco slumped on the edge of his bed with a sigh. From the corner of his eye, he felt Blaise peel off his robes and unbutton his top collar before sitting down.

“Are you trying to seduce me. Zabini?” Theo's eyes followed Blaise's with interest, thought they all knew he had no interest in the boy.

Blaise rolled his sleeves up to reveal his Dark Mark, hissing in pain as the fabric caught against the blistering skin. “Only if you think this is sexy.”

Theo's eyes met Draco's, and he sat up, both of them rolling their sleeves to reveal matching ones. Draco's was the most swollen and weeping, as the Dark Lord had saw fit to punish him for his father's failure at the Department of Mysteries. Theo's was nearly healed, thankfully. Theo bit his lip as he watched Draco flex his forearm in pain, and more translucent pus flowed from the Mark.

“Should we ask someone for help?” They knew they couldn't ask Madame Pomfrey. The mediwitch would undoubtedly run straight to Dumbledore, and they would be immediately placed under arrest to be tried as Death Eaters.

Draco nodded and began rummaging in his bag. “Mother gave me an ointment to put on it, but I'll need more soon. She said I can ask Snape for more. He'll make it for us.”

“What if he doesn't?” Blaise asked, watching as Draco spread the thick clear ointment on his Mark.

“I'll make him.” Something about the way Draco said that made Blaise look over at Theo. Sure enough, the boy was frowning even as he took the jar that Draco handed him, applying a little to his Mark before passing it to Blaise.

“Do you think they marked Parkinson too?” Blaise asked once he'd finished his ministrations, handing the salve back to Draco, who was shaking his head.

“Women don't get marked.” He recalled his mother's creamy unblemished arms.

“Your aunt Bellatrix did.” Theo retorted, and Draco shrugged.

“She's...different.”

Theo relaxed into the bed, his arm numb to any pain from the Mark. “Good. She doesn't need this. Did you hear her dad's trying to marry her off to Goyle?”

Draco barked a laugh at the absurdity. “Greg? Why the fuck would he do that?”

“Dunno. She Floo'd me over the summer about it. Speaking of which...” Theo glanced at the clock that hung above their bedroom door. “I think it's safe to go to the common room now.” They rose as one and filed out of the room to meet an impatient Pansy.

“There you are. What took you?” She demanded. Theo sank into the armchair next to hers.

“We were shagging each other blind, can't you tell?” He smirked.

“Don't be vulgar, Nott.” She snapped, and he rolled his eyes.

“Upsetting your delicate sensibilities, princess?” She shot him a withering look but before either of them could continue, Draco spoke.

“Enough.” They turned to look at him, waiting. He cast a Muffliato around themselves before relaxing into his spot. “I've been given a task. One that only I can do it.”

“What is it?” Pansy asked.

Draco lowered his voice despite the sound-blocking charm. “I've been tasked to kill Dumbledore.”

There was a moment of silence as his words sank it, before Pansy let out a sharp laugh.

“Kill Dumbledore? Kill Dumbledore?! Is he mad? There's no way. Can't you refuse? You're not even a Death Eater-”

“He is.” “I am.” Both Theo and Draco interrupted her, and her eyes went wide. They each rolled up their sleeves, Draco's movements painstakingly slow to not tug on the skin despite the ointment he'd used.

“That fucker.” Pansy's hushed voice might as well have spit venom as she stared at his marred skin. “That motherfucker! I can't believe Lucius let him-”

“Not like he had much of a choice, did he?” Draco said grimly. Pansy's eyes drifted to Theo's Mark, saying nothing. Finally, she landed on Blaise, who was tugging his own sleeve up to reveal hers.

“You too?” Her hands shook and the boys watched as she composed herself. She returned her gaze to Draco, determined. “Well? How are you going to do it?”

A ghost of a smile lifted his lips as he returned her look, covering his Mark again. “I have no idea. I could use all the help I can get, if you're offering.”

She nodded. “I'm offering.”

Still, he pressed. “You know what it means if you help me? All of you?” Death. It meant death. They would be choosing the wrong side for the sake of their families and for the small flame of hope that the other side would conquer.

Theo stood up, his face an eerie calm. “We do this so they don't have to.” The rest nodded.

Finally, Draco lifted his wand. “Expecto Patronum.” He felt a rush of warmth fill him as his grey fox appeared from the tip of his wand.

“Since when do you know how to cast a patronus?” Pansy gasped, and he smiled.

“Granger. Of course she taught you. Harry must have taught her and Weasley.” Theo let out a low chuckle. They watched the fox dissipate for a moment.

“And now I'll teach you. It's faster than an owl, and it can't be replicated.” Draco smirked as he watched his companions withdraw their wands.

“Who can tell me just by looking at them, what these three potions are?” Professor Slughorn waved his wand to the cauldrons in front of him, and the class peered at them curiously. Hermione's hand shot up.

“Ah thank you, miss, um..?”

“Granger, sir. Hermione Granger.”

“Right, Miss Granger. Go on.”

She stepped forward and peered into the first cauldron, breathing carefully to not inhale too much of its fumes. “This one is Veritaserum, a colourless, odourless potion that forces the drinker to tell the truth.” Slughorn nodded and gestured for her to continue. She stepped to the next one, scrunching her nose up as the smell wafted up to her face. “This one is Polyjuice Potion, and it transforms the drinker into a different person using a bit of the target's essence.”

“Very well done, Miss Granger. Can you tell me the name of the last one?” Slughorn was grinning broadly.

Hermione walked to the last potion, and inhaled slightly. Her pupils dilated and she gripped the table tightly, taking a stronger sniff. “Amortentia, sir.”

Amused, Slughorn nodded. “Correct again. It seems silly to ask, but I assume you can tell us what it does?”

Hermione cleared her throat as she turned away to face the class. “It's the most potent love potion in the world, sir. It's scent is unique to the individual. For example, for me, it smells like parchment, ink, books, and...smoke, and bergamot...” Her eyes unwillingly darted over to meet Draco's eyes, dark and unreadable.

“Well done, Miss Granger! Would you happen to be related to Hector Dagworth-Granger, founder of the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers?”

Draco leaned over to whisper in Theo's ear. “Swot.”

Theo snickered. He felt a pang as his eyes looked over to Harry and found him staring daggers their way. He schooled his face back to disinterest, closing off his mind. Granger was still talking.

“I don't think so, sir. I'm a Muggle-born, you see.” Hermione dropped her eyes down.

“Oho! ‘One of my best friends is Muggle-born, and she’s the best in our year!’ I’m assuming this is the very friend of whom you spoke, Harry?” Slughorn looked ecstatic as he glanced at Harry, who nodded proudly. Hermione blushed deeply as Slughorn awarded Gryffindor 20 points, and she turned to Harry excitedly.

“Did you really tell Professor Slughorn I'm the best in our year? Oh Harry!” She failed to notice Ron's disgruntled look, or even Draco's smirk.

The rest of the class ended being nothing else but shocking as Harry somehow managed to make the best potion, earning him the bottle of Felix Felicis. Draco scowled as he watched the tiny bottle disappear in Potter's schoolbag. So much for that plan.

Harry's meeting with Dumbledore became frequent, as did his Occlumency lessons with Snape. Meanwhile, Hermione focused on research as she and Ron tried to puzzle out You-Know-Who's plans. As Harry began to show signs of stress from his lack of ability to occlude, Hermione finally decided to bite the bullet.

“Miss Granger. Are you going to state your business or am I to assume you've taken to haunting my office door?” Snape didn't look up as Hermione lingered by his doorway.

“I'm sorry, professor. It's just...” She fidgeted with her fingers nervously. She closed the door and stood in front of his desk.

“Spit it out or get out.”

“Please, sir. I'd like to learn Legilimency.”

Severus's eyes bore into hers as his spoke, enunciating every syllable. “You'd like to learn Legilimency.”

“Yes, sir. Harry is struggling, you see, and I think if I knew how to do it, I could help. Of course, I wouldn't be nearly as proficient as you-”

“Naturally.”

“-but I think being able to practice outside of your office would be beneficial, don't you think?” Hermione finished.

Severus placed his quill back into its holder and steepled his hands as he looked at her for a moment. She looked back nervously but determined not to give in.

“Fine. My office, after your last classes each day. I suspect you'll be a better student than Potter, so I shouldn't need more than an hour of your time each day for the next month.”

Hermione flushed at the rare compliment from the Potions master, and she nodded eagerly. “Thank you, professor!”

“Mr. Malfoy. My office, after class.” Snape's voice cut through the air like a whip, making Draco's smile drop slightly. He glared up at his House Head as he held his tongue.  Snape continued with his lecture, theorizing the difference in potence between various species of garlic in repelling the different sub-types of vampires in Europe.  Dismissing the class soon after, he disappeared into his adjacent office.

“Sir, you wanted to see me.” Draco's voice was dull as he walked into the man's office.

“Your mind is elsewhere.” Snape spoke without looking up. He was filing away papers into a small filing cabinet that no doubt benefited from an extension charm. “You have been given a task by the Dark Lord, correct?”

Draco grimaced inwardly. “Yes, sir.”

Snape's eyes drifted up to drill into his student. “And?”

“And what?” Draco's voice was indignant.

“And, have you created a plan to achieve it?” Snape hissed.

“Not yet, but I'm working on it.”

“You're working on it.” Snape repeated. He waited a moment before asking. “Who have you told about the task?”

Draco's eyes dropped away. “People I trust.” He looked up when he heard Snape's scoff. “What?”

“You are a child. What do you know of trust?”

“I know the people I trust will put their lives on the line for me, as I will for them!” He snarled.

“So you'll throw away your life for people who are just as defenseless as yourself? I wonder if perhaps you were meant to be in Gryffindor instead.”

The barbed comment raised Draco's hackles, but he remained calm. “I am not defenseless.”

“You are against the Dark Lord.”

“It doesn't help when we've had useless Defense teachers, does it?”

“Are you blaming the school for your inadequacy? Are you incapable of using the library to self-study, both here and in your Manor?” Snape purred, and Draco scowled. He watched Snape stand up from his desk and circle it slowly.

“I have sworn an Unbreakable Vow to protect you with my life. To protect you, I will teach you how to close your mind. I have been a spy for longer than you've been alive,and I will train you. It will be arduous, and painful, but it will work. I am proof of it. You will learn to occlude so well even the Dark Lord cannot penetrate your mind. You will not throw your life away for others, but if you insist on defending, you will train until you are immovable.”

Draco looked up at him and nodded.

“You will protect your friends, and you will protect her.” Snape's eyes softened ever so slightly when he saw Draco's eyes widen. 

"Teach Parkinson, Nott, and Zabini what you can, but always use caution.  Do you know of the Room of Requirement?"

Severus massaged his temple as he tried to fight off an impending headache. How did he end up teaching three students how to occlude on top of his full workload and while trying to break the curse on Dumbledore's blasted ring? Potter was virtually useless, his concentration barely lasting past the first few pokes before his walls dissolved. Granger was better, more determined, loathe though he was to admit it. Draco...Draco was enigmatic as always.

“Professor?” Granger panted in front of him, and he glanced at the time. Draco should be arriving soon for his lessons.

He waved her off. “We're done for the day. Continue to do the exercises I've prescribed, and make sure Potter does his too.”

“Yes sir. I'll see you tomorrow.” Hermione picked up her bag and opened the office door, nearly colliding into Draco. They stared at each other for a moment before she hastily made an excuse and stepped around him.

Draco watched her leave for a moment before turning to Snape. “What's she doing here?”

“That is none of your concern, Mr. Malfoy. Sit.” Severus rose from his seat and came over to him, eyes blank. Raising his wand, he cast the spell. "Legilimens."

“Look, that owl's got a letter for you.” Theo pointed, and Blaise looked up to see his mother's signature seal on the letter.

He waited for the group to crowd around him, blocking the letter from outside viewing, before he opened it. He scanned the letter quickly before folding it back up tersely.

“It's true, it has a twin.”

The Vanishing Cabinet at Borgin & Burkes had caught Draco's attention the last time he was in Diagon Alley, but it had only been a faint hope that it would have a twin. Even so, the twin cabinet would need to be in working order and had to be smuggled into Hogwarts. Not an easy task. Neither of his tasks were easy. His mind went to the brown package ready and waiting in his nightstand.

Draco hid himself behind the doors of the bathroom in the Three Broomsticks, waiting for the target. He wasn't waiting long before Katie walked in. Silently stepping behind her, he cast the curse, his blood running like ice in his veins as he gave her the package.

“Don't open it. Don't talk to anyone. Go straight to Dumbledore.” He insisted, praying she wouldn't be harmed further than necessary. His stomach roiled at the way her eyes glazed over, and he let her go.

“It was Malfoy! I know it was!” Harry burst out as Snape cast diagnostic spells. The man looked over his shoulder, revealing nothing.

“That is a very serious accusation, Mr. Potter!” McGonagall was appalled.

“And how do you know this?” He asked, hardly able to breathe. Was Draco's cover blown?

“I just know.” Harry insisted, and Snape relaxed inwardly.

“You just....know.” He sneered.

Hermione swallowed down her uncertainty. Surely not...he wouldn't. He may have to 'honour the Malfoy name' as he'd said last year, but surely this was too far. She resolved to ask him if she ever met him alone.

“'Mione, you're going to wear yourself out again.” Ron cajoled, gently pulling the tome out of her arms despite her protests.

“I can't stop, Ronald. You know I can't, not when we don't have any idea what the plan is.”

“You could do with a night off. Come on, walk with me. You've been cooped up for days here.”

Ron tugged her up from her seat and grinned down at her. She looked at him properly for the first time in ages and a sudden rush of emotion came over her. When did he grow up so much? He'd certainly filled out since earning the Keeper spot on the Gryffindor team.

“Oh, alright then.” She smiled.

They walked out of the Gryffindor tower, his hands in his pockets as he caught her up on the latest tower gossip. She laughed at the way his eyes glinted darkly when he mentioned how Neville and Ginny were getting closer, teasing him for falling into the “big brother” role so easily. Her arm found itself linked into his as they toured the castle grounds, neither of them aware that a certain dark-haired girl was watching them from above with a scowl so foul that it make Professor Trelawney shriek.

Draco scowled as Filch dragged him to the middle of the room, disrupting Slughorn's Christmas soiree.

“Look what I found lurking about. Said he had an invitation, he did. Said-”

“Alright! I was gatecrashing. Let me go!” Draco snarled. His eyes cast about, glaring at the attendees before he saw Hermione, dressed in a pink silk dress that hung off her like it was made for her. His eyes roved over her body hungrily before he dragged them away, looking over at Snape who somehow was always where he didn't want to be. He let himself get dragged out, batting away Snape's questions before he started walking back to the Slytherin common room with his head low.

“Draco...?”

His head snapped around as he heard her voice, and there she was. Her dress shimmered in the moonlight and he wondered if she'd done that for the party or if it was just the dress. Still, he knew his place. He dropped his eyes with a scoff.

“Come to boast, Granger?”

“No, I would never.” Hermione stepped closer. She looked him up and down, her chest hurting as she took in his black suit. He looked like he was born to wear it, but she could tell that he wasn't taking care of himself. Without thinking, she lifted her hand up to touch his face, noticing his dark circles.

Draco held his breath as he felt her skin on his, and he finally brought himself to look her in the eye. There was no pity there.

“Then why are you out here, instead of at the party?” He whispered.

She let out a small huff of laughter. “I didn't want to attend. Especially not with McLaggen.” Her face twisted in distaste, much to his pleasure.

“So why did you?” He asked, unable to help himself.

“Because I had no one else to go with, Draco.” Hermione mumbled.

“Who would you have wanted to go with?” He asked, his thoughts hopeful though his tone remained even. He could feel himself leaning in.

Hermione hesitated before murmuring as she leaned closer. “You.” Her eyes slid shut and she moaned softly when his lips pressed against hers. She wound her arms around his neck and she pressed closer as she felt his hand drop down to pull her in.

He hummed against her lips in satisfaction as he pressed his body against hers, feeling himself grow hard. He'd wanted this for so long, but his imagination couldn't even compare. His fingers tangled in her hair and he grinned when she let out a mewl, rubbing against him. He dropped his other hand lower and firmly grabbed her ass, her dress wrinkling.

“Salazar, Hermione, do you know have any idea what you look like in that dress?” He whispered, breaking away from her lips to drink her in. Her eyes were glazed over, her lips red and shiny from saliva. He dropped his face down to nestle into her neck, inhaling the faint trace of honeysuckle and jasmine that lingered from her shampoo. He kissed her neck reverently, earning a shiver as she arched her neck up to give him more room.

“Draco, I've missed you.”

Hermione's husky voice sent him into a frenzy. His fingers tightened in her hair and he pulled as he laved at her neck, his hand on her ass pushing her in as he thrust up. As their breathing shifted, both heard the slamming of a classroom door and a pair of giggling voices running towards them. They jumped away just in time to see the students turn the corner and head their way.

“Quickly, quickly!” A pair of third years flitted through the corridor. They yelped when they ran into Hermione and Draco, both straightening their clothes hurriedly.

“Off to your rooms before I deduct House points, what are you doing out past curfew?” Hermione used her best prefect voice, pinning them in place with a stare.

“You're out past curfew.” The braver girl, a Ravenclaw by the looks of it, attempted to retort. Her Slytherin girlfriend, a second year by the looks of it, shrank back.

Draco stepped in front with an intense look, sending her stepping back to her girlfriend with a squeak. “Back to your dorms. Now.” The girls fled, leaving Hermione and Draco alone once more.

“I...I should go back.” Hermione spoke quietly, smoothing her dress one last time. She bit her lip as she asked almost shyly. “Do I look alright?”

Draco's heated gaze sent a shiver straight to her core. “Beautiful.”

He watched her smile and quickly turn away before he walked back to the Slytherin dormitories.

“Pansy!”

She ignored his indignant yells, strutting down the hallway with her chin up. Finally, Ron caught up to her, catching her arm to turn her around. She pulled her arm out of his grasp with a feral glint in her eyes. “Don't touch me, Weasley.”

“Then turn around when I'm talking to you.” He growled back, and she rolled her eyes, smiling cruelly.

“Why should I?”

“Because it's me! You know what? Never mind.” Ron thrust his hands through his hair. He took in a breath, beginning again. “Was it him? Was it Malfoy who gave Slughorn the mead?”

Pansy narrowed her eyes, pretending to be clueless. “What mead?” Her heart raced as she searched for a diversion.

“The mead that bloody well nearly killed me, that's what mead?!” Ron's roar made her flinch back, her eyes wide.

“What the fuck are you on about?” She demanded.

“I was poisoned! Harry found me, took me to Slughorn, who gave me the antidote and then the mead, and then i nearly died – again!”

“Back up, you were poisoned? By who?” Pansy's brows furrowed as she tried to puzzle through the poorly-retold story.

“Never you mind how I was poisoned, answer my question!”

“No! Draco didn't give Slughorn any poisoned mead, you stupid idiot!” Pansy lied through her teeth, her hands shaking. She had to get out of here. She had to find Draco. What the fuck was happening?

Hermione furrowed her eyebrows as she noticed Draco wince for the second time during their Charms class.  Her eyes travelled down to see him grip his left forearm tightly.  

"Miss Granger, are you listening?"

"Sorry, Professor Flitwick!"  Hermione turned away, blushing in embarrassment.  Draco didn't notice, already starting to pack up since the class was reaching its end.

"Draco, wait!"  Hermione called out, hurrying to finish packing.  She sighed as he ignored her, and she ran to catch up with him.

"I said wait!"  She grabbed his left forearm instinctively, pulling him back.  Her eyes went wide as he yelped and ripped his arm away from her, cradling it.

"Fucking hell, Granger.  What the bloody hell do you want?" He ground out, tears pricking his eyes.  His Dark Mark was throbbing, but he tried to brush it off.  Hermione looked at him in surprise.

"What's wrong with your arm?"

"Nothing's wrong with my arm, you silly witch." Why did he always resort to name-calling when he needed to push her away? Because she's stubborn and won't listen unless I push too far.

"I don't believe it." Hermione crossed her arms over her chest.

Draco sighed. Case and point. "Believe it or not, I don't-"

"Show me."  

"I don't need to show you anything.  Now get out of my way."  Draco made to skirt past her, but she stepped in front of him.

"No, show me.  If I hurt you, I do sincerely apologize.  However, I think I should see the damage, just so we know if you need to go to Madame Pomfrey or not."  She was calling his bluff, and he knew it. 

Still, he persisted. He scoffed, "Don't overestimate yourself, Granger.  I don't need to see that daft woman who wasn't good enough to get a job at St. Mungo's and wound up butchering children." He felt his forearm pulse in pain and he finally pushed past her.

"I said let me see it!"  Hermione's hand shot out and she grabbed him tightly by the wrist, ripping his sleeve up.  Her eyes went wide in shock and she stared. "Draco...what have you done?"  

His eyes closed briefly before he pulled his arm out of her grasp. "I did what I had to do." Not like I had a choice.

"What do you mean you did what you had to do, you got the bloody Dark Mark?" Hermione whisper-shouted, afraid to raise her voice.  Immediately, her blood ran cold, and she backed away. "It was you, wasn't it?  Harry was right.  You cursed Katie to give the necklace to Dumbledore, and you poisoned Ron!"

Draco thanked Professor Snape silently for teaching him Occlumency, as he watched her grow hysterical behind his walls.  If he showed an ounce of emotion now, all would be lost.  

"I did no such thing, Granger." He sneered.

Hermione searched his face. "Then why do you have the Mark?  How could you possibly get it and still, and still..." And still touch me? She couldn't voice the words, but her eyes spoke them for her.

"I didn't feel like working for my lay.  Shame I couldn't get my cock wet before you found out."  

Hermione's chest pounded and she ran out of the room, tears falling silently.

Draco willed his walls to stay up and he let out a tortured scream behind them. 

“You're not doing enough.” Snape's voice echoed in Harry's tired mind, and he shook his head, trying to force the man out.

“I'm trying my best!”

“Try harder.”

“If you'd give me some time to rest-” Harry panted, his head throbbing with pain.

“There is no time. The Dark Lord is not resting. While you spend you time in classes and with your dear friends, he is building his army, he is growing stronger. Now build those walls. Legilimens!” Snape snarled.

“Hermione, I need you to watch Malfoy. I know he's planning something. I know you don't think so, but he is. I'll be going on more trips with Dumbledore. I need to know you have my back while I'm gone.” Harry sought out her eyes imploringly.

“I'll always have your back, Harry.” Hermione promised.  Dr-...Malfoy, was definitely up to something.  She wiped the ghost of a tear from her cheek, the sharp pain of betrayal now a dull relentless ache.

“Where are you going, Harry?” Hermione's eyes followed Harry as he stood up abruptly. His eyes were focused towards the Slytherin table in the Great Hall.

Draco walked quickly out of the hall, ignoring the glances between Theo and Blaise. The walls swelled up around him, slowly creeping closer as he walked towards the doors. His heart raced in his chest and he fumbled in his robes to reach for his wand, seeking comfort in its familiar grip. His vision blurred as he tore through the castle blindly, his breath now coming out in quick spurts as he tried to find somewhere he could calm down. He stumbled into an abandoned bathroom and groped his way to the sink. Desperately, he turned the taps, searching for water to splash is face, but the godsforsaken thing wasn't working. Why is it never working?

“Draco?” Moaning Myrtle materialized out of the column connecting the sinks, and he jumped back, backing away to sink against the wall. “Why are you crying?”

He touched his cheeks and looked at his fingertips as he felt wetness. Burying his face in his hands, he broke into sobs.

“I can't...I can't do it...” His chest throbbed and his head felt heavy as he began to hyperventilate.

“Draco? Mate, what happened?” Theo found him on the floor, and instantly he was surrounded by the Slytherins. Pansy held him tight as he bawled into her shoulder.

“What if it's all for nothing? He's going to kill them, he's going to kill them all...” Draco stuttered against her tear-soaked robe. He heard Blaise bring his fist hard against the wall, Theo stood silently.

“I can't protect them, I can't protect anyone.”

“You're not alone. Let us help.” Pansy pleaded, and he shook his head.

“There's nothing you can do, can't you see?! It's useless. I thought if I scared Dumbledore away, I'd have an excuse and You-Know-Who would leave it be. But he's never going to let me go. Any of us!”

Draco's head lifted and his eyes saw Potter standing at the entrance, eyes pinning him with a piercing stare. His blood ran cold and he instantly shifted his mind to bring up his walls, occluding.

“Malfoy.” Harry stared at the scene before him, and he found himself fishing out his wand from his robe. He watched Malfoy slowly rise from the floor, taking hold of his own wand.

“Draco...” Theo's voice warned him, but Draco just shook his head.

“Don't do anything. It's got to be me.” His voice shook as he readied himself. The other Slytherins backed away to give the two rivals room, and they watched on as the boys began to circle each other.

“What are you planning?”

Harry's voice was dark even to his own ears, but he didn't care. His eyes flickered over to meet Theo's but all he saw was ice. Blood rushed in his ears as he turned back to watch Malfoy pace. This battle was nothing like their first duel in first year. Then again, they hadn't hated each other back then. Not like they did now.

Draco let a cold smile reach his lips. “Nothing you need to worry about, Potter. It'll all be over soon. Maybe I should get rid of you now while I-”

Harry let loose a wordless hex, cutting Draco off. Instantly, the battle began, each shooting silent curses. Draco winced as a stinging hex met its mark on his ankle, and he buckled, but not before shooting a leg-locking curse at Potter.

“Harry, no!” Hermione's voice rang out as she and Ron ran into the bathroom, and both boys paused.

“Hermione, stay out of this!” Harry yelled harshly, noticing a flicker of pain cross Malfoy's face. They kept their eyes trained on each other and raised their wands again.

“Is that the best you can do, Potter?” Draco shouted, ignoring the pit in his stomach. For her, for her. It's all for her. He shot a blasting curse in his direction, missing intentionally. The curse flew across Harry's shoulder as he ducked, destroying the sinks behind him.

Incensed, Harry shot the first curse he could think of. “Sectumsempra!”

Draco's eyes went wide as he dropped to the floor, searing pain crossing his chest. Faintly, he heard Hermione and Pansy's voices both shriek, but he couldn't concentrated as he groped against his robes. They were wet. He lifted his hand up and saw red staining his fingers.

“DRACO!” Hermione's voice pierced through the air. She ran to his side, Pansy sobbing as she sank to the ground on the other side.

“Harry, what have you done...?”

Theo's voice was hushed as dropped to his knees. Hermione didn't look back as she tried to heal the bleeding boy. Nothing was working, nothing was sticking. Why wasn't anything working? Her fingers trembled as she kept trying, but she had never been very good at healing spells.

“Get someone!” She sobbed as her wand moved. She looked up at Pansy and grabbed her hand, holding tight even as the girl tried to pull away. She firmly pressed Pansy's palms into the wound, making Draco gasp. “You need to press down to stop the bleeding. Harder, Pansy!”

Pansy threw a crazed look behind Granger and yelled out to Ron as he stood, paralyzed. “Get someone!”

“W-who?”

“Anyone!” She turned back and continued to watch Granger work. Every time she saw a momentary pause in blood flow, she braced herself and waited. Within seconds, the wound reopened, and the girl had to start again.

“Hurry, Granger. You have to do something. Please!” Pansy was blubbering, and Hermione gritted her teeth.

“I'm trying, but nothing's working. I don't know what to do! Hang on, Draco. Please hang on. Help is coming.”

Draco weakly stretched his hand up to cup Hermione's tear-stricken face. He tried to speak, but nothing but blood bubbles came out of his mouth. For you. Always for you. His vision was starting to darken, but he fought to keep her in view.

Seconds stretch into what felt like hours until Hermione felt someone above her. She looked up to see Snape looming over her, his face twisted in shock.

“Please.” She whispered, begging.

Snape's eyes swept over the young Malfoy, and he took out his wand. “Step aside, Granger.”

She watched him gently coax a counter-curse over Draco, and slowly his wounds began to close. Blood receded from his white shirt, and she saw the wound stitch itself back together until a swollen pink wound remained. She sat on the wet floor and watched Snape lift Draco with a Wingardium Leviosa.

“Where are you taking him?” Pansy hiccupped.

“The Hospital Wing, Miss Parkinson. He needs rest and blood potions to recover.” Snape's eyes drifted to Harry's slumped form as he strode toward the exit of the bathroom. He paused only for a moment to snarl at Harry before disappearing.

“10 points for unauthorized spell-casting. 25 points for unsanctioned dueling. 100 points for casting a spell you had no business using on a fellow classmate when you had no idea of its origin. And, you will serve detention with me for the rest of the year.”

Hermione watched Harry's face, already deathly pale, barely register the words. She turned away, fresh sobs reaching her throat. She felt Theo and Blaise close in on Pansy, but the girl simply reached out for Hermione, drawing her in. She finally let herself collapsed against the Slytherin girl, and they hugged each other tightly as they sobbed.

Draco's recovery was slow and agonizing as Madame Pomfrey and Professor Snape both worked tirelessly to knit his skin back together. The first day, Hermione lingered at the end of the bed, unwilling to touch him for fear of hurting him somehow. By the second day, she was sitting by his bed, but still a distance away.

“He's out of danger now, Miss Granger.” Madame Pomfrey smiled kindly down at the girl.

“Thank you, Madame Pomfrey.” Hermione kept her eyes glued to Draco's still-pale face. When the mediwitch leaned out of her office to check on him later in the day, her eyes twinkled as she saw the girl's fingers grasping at the young man's, her cheek leaning against them as she stared at his face.

“Harry, that was not on.” For the first time, Ron couldn't defend Harry, and he couldn't blame him. It was indefensible, what he'd done to Malfoy. “I don't know what you were thinking.”

“I wasn't, not really.” Harry ran his fingers through his hair as he stood up to get ready for detention. “It's like I was possessed.”

“Like with the snake and Dad?” Ron asked, remembering how disturbed Harry had been last year. Harry nodded and walked towards the common room doors. Just as he reached the door, he turned back to Ron with an anguished look before disappearing into the hallway.

He walked in a daze towards Snape's office for detention.

“Harry.” His green eyes lifted and he saw Theo leaning against the castle wall.

“Theo.” Are we back to first names? He looked around, but they were the only ones in the vicinity. “What are you doing here?”

Theo's warm brown eyes gave him a penetrating stare. “Waiting for Pansy. She was visiting Draco with Hermione.”

Harry's eyes dropped and he turned away in guilt. “Is he...is he alright?”

“Yeah. He'll be fine.” Theo's voice was right in front of him, but he didn't look up.

“Good, that's good.” His voice subdued.

“Harry...” Theo softened, and he reached up to touch Harry who quickly pulled away, eyes stinging.

“I didn't mean to-I didn't know...I..” His voice cracked as he tried to contain a whimper.

Finally, Theo reached out and grabbed him, holding him tightly. “I know. I know.” He held on tight as Harry broke down, clinging to his shirt.

“Why? Why did he take the Mark? Why did you? How could you?!” Theo's heart splintered.

“We didn't have a choice. We never had a choice.” Theo murmured into Harry's jet-black hair. We're doing this for you.

“But what if we have to fight you? I can't, Theo.”

“You will.” Theo's voice was hard and he felt Harry withdraw.

“...What?” Brown eyes met green.

“You'll do it. Survive, Harry. You forget me, and you survive. Promise me.”

“N-no! You can help us! There must be a way-”

“There is no way. We...we made a pact.” Theo's eyes dropped as he let it slip from his tongue, the weight of the secret slowly ebbing away.

“A pact...but you could join the Order! We could use spies, we could-” Harry was scrambling to grasp at wild ideas, and Theo shook his head.

“They'd never believe us, and there's not enough time to prove ourselves. Who would ever trust four Slytherins whose parents are Death Eaters? Besides....we have others to think about.” Narcissa, Blaise's mother, other Slytherins who didn't have the connections or resources that they did.

The light in Harry's eyes slowly dimmed and his lips trembled. “I'll find you. I swear, I will. Let Malf-Draco finish his task, and we can regroup. Okay?”

Theo's eyes flashed with pain, but he nodded. If only you knew. “Anything for you, Potter.” He lied.

Harry felt a sudden grip of anxiety, and he cupped Theo's face. “Promise me?”

“I promise. Until then.” Theo smiled. They leaned in, eyes sliding shut as they stole a moment for themselves, kissing each other longingly.

“Mine.” Harry whispered against Theo's lips, the brunet weeping openly. Unable to speak, Theo nodded.

Draco's eyes fluttered open as he felt a strong firm hand behind his neck, gently pulling him up.

“Mr. Malfoy.” Snape's voice was soft but cold as he lifted a cup of blood-replenishing potion to Draco's lips.

“What happened?”

“You were duelling with Potter when he used a curse of unknown origins on you. You have been in the hospital wing for a week.”

Draco tried to bolt out of bed, but was promptly restrained by a firm hand on the unblemished part of his chest.

“Lay back.”

“But I-I've missed so many classes.” He lied quickly, though not well enough to fool his professor.

Snape sneered. “Indeed. You've also lost time on your task.”

Draco paled. “Does he know?”

Snape looked at him, black eyes boring into silver. “No.” He attempted to breach Draco's mind, but the boy's walls were firmly in place. A small smile curled his lips. Good.

“It's ready.” Pansy strode into the Slytherin common rooms, looking at Draco who nodded.

He would send an owl to his mother tonight, and tomorrow, the Death Eaters would infiltrate Hogwarts. He looked over at Theo, who was staring at the fire with an unreadable expression.

“Let's do this.”

“Well done, Draco! You've managed to catch Dumbledore unaware.” Bellatrix's hiss was sharp as a knife.

Harry's eyes went wide as he watched Draco pointing his wand at Dumbledore. No... He could feel the silencing charm still heavy on his tongue, although he was starting to regain some movement of his head and neck. Snape, I need Snape. He'll help. A movement in the dark caught his attention, and Snape materialized. He lifted a finger to his lips, and Harry nodded, for once grateful to have the Potions master on his side. He watched the man creep up the stairs to the upper level of the Astronomy tower and his eyes flicked back up in time to see Draco's wand lowering. Maybe Snape wasn't needed after all.

“Severus. Please.” Dumbledore's voice was just above a whisper.

“Avada Kedavra.” The curse was spoken as easily as a greeting, although Draco saw the anguish in Snape's face a moment before it was said. Had he ever done it before? He watched his headmaster crumple to the floor, dead. Bellatrix's shrill laughter rang out in his ear, and he found himself swept away with Snape's hand firm on his shoulder.

Harry felt Dumbledore's body-locking hex lift from his body, which could only mean that he was dead. He stood frozen in fear just under the man's body before the commotion came rushing back to him. He sprinted, adrenaline racing, as he chased after Snape.

He'd found her patrolling one of the corridors and had pulled her hastily into an empty broom closet.

"Hermione, listen to me."  His voice urgent and low made her stop protesting.

"Draco, what's going on?  Something's happened in the lower floors, I need to go check-"

"Dumbledore is dead."  

Hermione's jaw dropped. "What? How?" Did you-?

"Snape. No, look. There's no time.  I need to go.  I need to-I just need to go.  It's time, Hermione."  He cupped her face lovingly, longing for more time.  They were supposed to have more time. "We were never meant to last, you know that.  We're on opposite sides of this.  So, this is goodbye."  His voice cracked at the last word, his silver eyes so dark they were almost charcoal.

“Draco-” Hermione's voice hurried. 

“Don't.” He knew what was coming, and he couldn't bear to hear it.

His voice was rough with emotion, his eyes trying to memorize every inch of her. They only had minutes before he had to go. He could hear Bellatrix's cackle echoing somewhere nearby, and he tried to tamp down the despair that was causing his fingers to shake as he gripped Hermione's face. “Don't.”

“But I love-”

“No-!” He insisted, shushing her again. “You can't.” He gave her a broken smile, tears welling up. “I'll only break your heart. and a life with me will just...it'll just be painful. It'll tear you apart, and I can't do that. I won't do it. Forget me. Find someone better, and say it to them.” He recalled Krum's words and silently asked his forgiveness at allowing her to find someone else.

Hermione's tears dripped down her face and her lips trembled as she heard his voice crack. “No...Draco, please. Come with us. We can fix this. McGonagall, Lupin, they can help.”

Draco shook his head laughing brokenly. “No one can help. It's done. I was supposed to kill him. That was my task.”

“But you didn't!” Hermione's voice was squeaky, making him pull her close.

He leaned his forehead against hers, closing her eyes. “I would have done it, Hermione. I was going to-I had to. It was either him, or my parents. And that is just as bad. I-I am...irredeemable.”

“No!” It was her turn to cup his face, waiting for his eyes to open.

“No one is irredeemable here. We will fight this. You, your way. Us, ours. Here.”

She fished out a charmed Galleon she'd saved from last year and pressed it into his hands.

“Take it. Don't show it to anyone. As long as you have it, you'll know I'm alive because the charm will still be on it. Feel the magical signature?”

Draco nodded, in awe once more at her quick thinking.

“As for me...” She swallowed hard. “I'll just...I'll have to trust that you're alive, somewhere.” It was too dangerous to actually use the Galleons, and neither one of them wanted to put into words the fact that he very likely wouldn't survive the war.

He pressed his eyes closed for a moment before opening them again, a cocky smile sliding easily on his lips. “Don't worry about me. You may have been at the top in our class, but I wasn't too far behind.”

Hermione huffed a tearful laugh, and they gripped each other tightly, eyes staring at each other.

“Dracoooo~! Where is that boy?” Bellatrix's shrill voice rang out, and Draco turned ghostly pale. He pulled away before Hermione could pull him back for a goodbye kiss, and in a blink he'd left her alone, in the broom closet.

Harry scoured the castle, weaving around students as they moved chaotically. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Theo running in the opposite direction, but there was no time. He'd find the brunet later, he had to find Snape. Racing through the corridors, he caught sight of Snape's billowing cloak leaving the school grounds. With a burst of fury he watched as a masked Death Eater set fire to Hagrid's hut, Fang howling in fear inside. He ran to catch up to them, shooting hexes and curses to stop their progress.

“Stupefy!”

A red curse flew past Bellatrix's ear, and she turned with a grin. “Cru-”

“No!” Snape's voice rang out, and Harry's vision tunnelled.

“Sectumsepra!” He let loose on the hated man who deftly shielded himself and shot a body-binding curse back.

“You dare use my spell against me? That's right, Potter. I am the half-blood prince.” Snape stared down at Lily's boy.

Harry's gaze shifted to see Draco, and he yelled out. “Fight back! Fight back, you coward!”

Draco's voice was a blank slate, and Harry recognized the look of someone occluding. He slumped into the ground in defeat as he watched the group reach the boundaries of the school, Dissapparating away.

“He wasn't going to do it. He was lowering his wand.” Harry said, emotionless, as he and Hermione stood on the balcony of the Astronomy tower, Ron sitting with his head in his hands. They looked out at the school grounds below.

Hermione stayed quiet. She desperately wanted to divulge her encounter with Draco as the Death Eaters had infiltrated the castle, but she didn't dare risk exposing either of them. She knew what was coming, and telling anyone would put risk on both sides finding out and using it against Harry. She gripped the guard rail tightly. War was upon them.

Chapter Text

Scorpius yawned into his hand as he curled into Hermione's lap. They'd migrated into the sitting room, and partway through the last year, he'd fallen asleep. She smiled as her fingers carded through his soft blond locks, and she looked up at Draco.

“He's so much like you, I feel like I'm reliving your school years, but with an alternate reality.”

Draco scoffed without malice as he pulled her into his chest, kissing the top of her curls. “He's so much better than me. He is kind, and brave, and good.”

“You are kind and brave and good too.” Hermione poked her finger into his chest, giggling when he pretended to bend down and nip it with his mouth.

Leaning back, he sighed as he closed his eyes. “I wasn't any of those things during my seventh year. I was weak, and a coward.”

“I would hardly call you a coward. Especially not at the end.” Hermione frowned as she looked up at him. He looked back at her with sad smile as he bent down to kiss her cheek.

"Crucio!"  

There was pain, pain, nothing but pain.  Everything in the world was gone, nothing remained.  Screams, a wetness running down his legs. His bladder had released itself.  He sank to he cold, unyielding, marble floor.  Then, blissfully, there was nothing.

Draco's eyes fluttered as he slowly awoke.  Rising to his elbows, he found himself still on the floor of the Manor.  How long had he passed out for?  Not long, because You-Know-Who was still leering over him.  

"Sstill sssstrong enough to ssssit up?"  Voldemort's maniacal grin was too much for Draco to bear, so he kept his focus on the ground, at the man's gnarled disgusting feet. He swallowed a lump in his throat as vomit threatened to shoot out.  

"You fail me.....jusssst like your father...."  Voldemort was pacing, his cloak dragging on the floor.  Draco flinched as it swept against his arm, but he didn't move.  He glanced up to see Lucius and Narcissa in the corner, his father ghostly pale while his mother had withdrawn into herself. He lingered on her hands, clutching her husband for dear life. He heard the rustling of robes stop, and he closed his eyes, ready for another bout.  How long had he been tortured? What day was it?  He couldn't tell anymore. The puddle of urine had soaked into his sleeves, the stench nauseating.  He wondered how much longer he had before the end.

"Your punishment is not over, boy.  You will pay for your family's failures.  Incarcerous!"  

Draco found himself hoisted into mid-air as Voldemort directed his body upwards, bound tightly by ropes.  He looked at his parents as he heard his mother's horrified gasp, Lucius attempting to hush her. A movement in his peripheral vision made him look back at his torturer, and he saw the whip in his hands.  

"Bellatrix."  The mad woman scurried to Voldemort's side, bowing deeply.  He handed her the whip. "Teach your nephew what happens when you fail your master."  A crazed glint in her eyes told her everything he needed to know.  His he prepared for the onslaught and he armed his walls with all the might he could muster, remembering his lessons.

Six Months Ago

"Legilimens."  Snape's intrusion was familiar, if not comfortable.  Draco frowned at the uncomfortable pressure, like a finger prodding and attempting to find any crack in his mental walls.  After a few moment, Snape withdrew.  "You are improving.  There may be hope yet."

"Thank you sir, for the high compliment." Draco said dryly.

"If you wanted compliments, you wouldn't have come to me."  Snape retorted.  He sit back in his chair, watching Draco recover. "These walls are good for quick session, but you won't be able to keep them up for the prolonged tortures."

"Am I expected to have many of those?"  Draco asked.

If you're unable to complete your task, you will not survive until your next birthday.  "You must always be expecting the worst.  Constant vigilance."

Draco rolled his eyes, remember Barty Crouch Jr-posing as Mad-Eye Moody drilling the same thing in their heads during fourth year. "Right.  Well, what am I mean to do then?"

Snape leaned forward in his chair. "You push memories into the forefront, behind the walls."

Draco frowned. "As a diversion, keep him occupied with the less valuable memories so he doesn't see what I want to hide."

"Exactly. Legilimens."  

Draco yelped as Snape dived back into his mind.  Scrambling, he threw up memories of his childhood, memories of classes at Hogwarts, stupid Quidditch practices, locker room talk.  He had no idea what the man was looking for, but he wouldn't give him an inch.  He felt his walls blast open, and he pushed the flood of memories he'd conjured forward, hoping they were enough.

Snape smirked as he rifled through Draco's meaningless childhood memories.  The first time he'd snuck a tart from the Manor kitchens, earning a severe scolding from Neli the house-elf.  He paused momentarily at the memory of Dobby consoling the poor boy.  He had to have been five or six years old, too young to understand the hatred that would soon develop.  Snape tugged at the memories and continued through the branch of memories.  He felt Draco's discomfort as more memories unravelled.  He twisted the memories, tugging on the latent feelings of affection that Draco still held for his childhood elf.

Draco's fists clenched as he watched the fabricated memories.

"Crucio!" His father's wand pointed at Dobby, yet he could feel the pain of the curse.  Draco gritted his teeth and tried to push another memory forward. 

Still, Snape continued, relentless and persistent.  He kept the boy tied to the memory before continuing to a more mundane memory of him drinking hot chocolate in front of the Slytherin common room.  "You must be mindful of the memories you choose.  The Dark Lord will seek out any weakness and use it against you.  Something as innocuous as a house-elf will be twisted until you have nothing."

Draco scowled, focused on the fire. "Enough."

"Not yet." Snape drawled.  Sensing the boy weakened, he delved deeper, ignoring the memories that flashed in front of him.  "What are you hiding, Draco?  What don't you want me to see?"  He stopped as he saw a memory framed by red and gold.  

Draco's blood went cold and he felt his mind begin to stutter as Snape found his favourite Patronus memory. He watched in horror as the memory played, their Yule Ball dance.  He felt the adrenaline rush through him as if it was present day, and his fingers tingled from the memory of touching her.  They'd been perfect that night. The dull ache in his chest at the homesickness he felt from missing her threatened to take over and he nearly buckled.

"Touching."  Snape's voice echoed over the memory, and Draco felt the man tug on the branch of memories. 

Immediately, more materialized like a familial tree.  Flowing like a Muggle projector, Snape watched Draco's most treasured moments.  He could have stopped since the point was made, but he was curious.  Curious, given his own past with a Muggle-born.  How deep did Draco's feelings flow?  He felt the emotions flow from simple curiosity and academic jealousy a mutual admiration (anyone could see that she felt for him too) to something more.  He watched their clandestine meetings, smirking at their scheming against Umbridge, and felt Draco's anguish at every decision he had to make to protect her. 

Finally, he let go of the memories and let them dissolve, slowly pulling out of Draco's mind. "You love her." It was a fact.

Draco glared at his old potions master as he panted. "You know nothing."

"I know more than you think."  Snape sneered.  He contemplated his young charge.  Was there a point in any of this?  A split second decision, but one he hoped he wouldn't regret.

“I know your plight.”

“As I said, you know nothing-” Draco spat out, but he might as well have whispered, for all the good it did.

“You will need to be more convincing if you hope to protect Miss Granger.” Snape purred. He picked up his wand. Draco drew back with a hiss. “From now, your true training begins.”

Present Day

Draco's torture might have lasted minutes or hours, he couldn't tell. His screams echoed throughout the west wing of the Manor, his words incoherent. His skin was cleaved from itself with each whip, warm streams of blood dripping onto the floor. Still, he held strong. He would not yield, not to anyone. Finally, his salvation came.

“My Lord, you called for me.” Snape's voice floated into the room.

“Severussssss. My most loyal servant...” Voldemort raised his hand, halting Bellatrix's whip mid-flick. “Draco was just...repenting.”

The only sound was that of Bellatrix's chilling laugh, childlike and gleeful. Draco chanced a look. Snape's face was unreadable, his eyes staring blankly back at him. Voldemort waved his hand vaguely and Draco fell to the ground, the ropes slipping off of his body. He couldn't hear his mother anymore, had she left?

“Take him, heal his wounds. He should study, since he will be returning to Hogwartssss ssssssoon...” Bellatrix cackled more, and suddenly he was floating. 

“What news do you bring, Yaxley?” Voldemort sat in the seat at the head of the Malfoy grand dining table.

Yaxley nervously kneeled next to the Dark Lord, eyes following the giant snake Nagini. “My lord, we have found Potter's Mudblood's parents' home. Shall I dispatch my men to be rid of her?”

Draco forced himself to remain still as his blood chilled in his veins. A sudden panic overtook him and threatened to expose his secrets before his mother's hand settled on his over his thigh. He risked a look at her, and she softened. I know. He hastily looked back down at the table and swallowed hard.

“Take five men, and kill the parents only.”

“My lord?”

Draco's blood froze and he gripped his mother's hand tightly. Voldemort's smile was deranged. “I want her back alive. I miss playing.” Nervous laughter chorused through the room.

Draco mulled his options. It was too risky to ask Pansy, Theo, or Blaise. It was impossible that he go himself. His fingers slid over the enchanted Galleon and he considered it, but what if she didn't have one herself? She hadn't told him that she had one of her own. For all he knew, she'd given him hers. He couldn't risk the Galleon being intercepted either. He buried his head into his face. The longer he fretted, the more time he wasted. Could he risk it? Could he send a Patronus to her? The alternative was that she was defenseless,.

A laugh came unbidden to his lips. Hermione Granger was never defenseless. Even when she had no plan, she had wits that made her the brightest witch in their time. Steeling himself, he cast the charm.

“Expecto Patronum.” He watched the silver fox form out of the mist and was about to direct it to find Hermione Granger when a wave of fear washed over him. Would doing this damn his parents? What if he was found out? He couldn't risk his mother being tortured the way he was. His Occlumency walls were strong, but even he wouldn't be strong enough to witness her screams. He was contemplating the fox as it paced around him when his mother glided into his room without knocking.

“Draco, I-” Her eyes widened a fraction before cooling instantly. “I had no idea you knew how to do that charm.”

“Mother.” Draco dropped his concentration and turned to her, letting the silvery mist disappear. “Did you need something?”

“Who were you sending a message to?” Narcissa went straight to the point, pinning her son in place.

“I was just practicing. Dementors are going to be swarming Hogwarts-”

“Draco darling, don't lie to me. You're no good at it, and you won't start now.” Narcissa folded her arms. She watched Draco's shoulders sag. “Is this about that Muggle-born? Granger?”

Draco looked away.

“Cast the spell.” Narcissa's soft voice made him lift his gaze. She walked to him and cupped her son's face, her thumb rubbing his cheek. “If she is who you choose, then cast the spell.”

Draco searched his mother's face for any hint of disapproval. Finding none, he turned and cast it, but found himself unable to.

“Draco?”

“I...I can't.” He collapsed into the armchair with his face in his hands. “I'm scared.” He hated how weak his voice sounded.

“We are all scared, my dear.”

He felt his mother's arm circle his shoulder, and he leaned against her, finally letting loose the torrent of shameful tears that had been battering his walls.

“Hermione, dearest are you alright?” Mr. Granger pressed as he watched his daughter toy with her food absentmindedly. He shared a worried look with his wife.

Hermione smiled stiffly as she took a bite of her curry. “Yes, dad. I'm fine.”

“Maybe you shouldn't go back to that school, Hermione.” Mrs. Granger frowned. “After Professor Dumbledore's death, and with all of these terrible new stories...” She waved her hand at the pile of old Daily Prophet newspapers. “...perhaps it would be better for you to stay home where it's safe.”

Nowhere is safe. Hermione swallowed the lump of food in her mouth as she kept her mouth shut. Her brain was operating at a mile a minute but her options were dwindling. There was only one thing she could do. How long could she wait until it had to be done? How long did she have with her parents before she lost them?

“My Lord, please. I beg you. Draco can be used in other ways. Allow him to abstain from collecting Harry Potter so that he can command your younger troops while at Hogwarts.” Lucius was pale, trembling at the table. His hand gripped his wand tightly, Cissa's hand shaking in his other one. He didn't dare look at her or Draco, fearing any movement as the blasted snake slithered around them. The Dark Lord contemplated his disgraced general before his beady eyes shifted to Draco's and then Snape's.

“Severussss, what say you? You were his head of house.” The other Death Eaters snickered. “Shhhhould the boy participate?”

Draco swallowed hard. His lips, cracked and painful, trembled. He didn't want to, but he would do it if he had to. A moment passed before Severus spoke.

“No, my lord. I ask that you allow him to stay out of the fight. He wouldn't be much use anway.” Snape's voice was dry, earning a laugh from the others at the table, but Draco felt only relief.

“And when is this 'fight' supposed to be?” Nott Senior asked, leaning in. Draco tuned out his mind, until Voldemort began speaking again.

“I require your wand.” Draco dared not look anywhere except at the table as the Dark Lord's voice hissed next to him.

“My wand, my lord?” Lucius was trembling, and Draco's head began to feel faint. He watched in horror as his father withdrew his wand with its carved holder. He'd always admired the artistry in which his father had designed it. The Malfoys flinched as Voldemort snapped it off with glee. A roaring sound filled Draco's ears as he tried to control his breathing. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't breathe.

Salazar, I'm going to die. This is how I die. Theo, Pans, Blaise. I'm sorry. I can't save you, I can't save anyone. Hermione, Hermione I'm never going to be able to tell you-

Clear your mind.

Draco's eyes shot up at the unmistakable intrusion. Snape's black eyes bore into his as Charity Burbage begged for her life between them. They held each other's gaze as Voldemort jeered at the Muggle Studies professor. It was only when the Avada Kedavra was cast that Draco jumped in his seat.

“Nagini. Dinner.”

“Hermione, dinner!”

She stared at the photos on her desk, Muggle photos taken before she'd received her acceptance into Hogwarts. Her eyes dragged from her 5^th birthday party to the time her parents took her to Paris for an impromptu trip. Another photo caught her attention, and she bit her lip to keep from crying as she tried to memorize her father's smiling face as he clutched her arm. They'd just come back from the catching a show, and the picture was taken mid-laughter.

“Darling?”

She sniffed and quickly wiped her face for any escaping tears. Clutching her wand in one hand and her beaded bag in the other, she turned away from her childhood, forcing herself to move one foot in front of the next. There was no time.

“Coming, mum!” She made her way down the stairs and found her parents sitting together by the piano, Mum resting her head on Dad's shoulder as he played Für Elise for her. Blinking back tears, she whispered the spell one after another.

“Obliviate.”

She backed away out of her childhood home with her hand firmly holding her bejeweled purse and quickly fled towards the nearest train station. She needed to get to Grimmauld Place to meet up with the rest of the Order. It was time to pick up Harry.

“Ready? Yaxley tightened his wand holster and glazed over the squadron of Death Eaters at his command. He fixed himself on the young Malfoy and he sneered. “I hope you're ready, boy. I don't think your family can handle any more cock-ups.

Draco swallowed hard as he felt the cool metal of his Death Eater mask under his fingers. “I'll be fine.”

“Of course you will.” Lucius strode into the room proudly and helped Draco fix the mask to his face.

Yaxley scowled. “Right. You all know the coordinates?” The squad of 5 nodded, and Yaxley nodded back. “Let's go.” The team Disapparated from Malfoy Manor, arriving under the cover of the night at the edge of Heathgate in the Hampstead Garden Suburbs, London. Draco looked up to see lights on in the upper floors. He looked back down just in time to see Yaxley motion the signal to enter.

Like a well-oiled machine, they infiltrated the two-storey home, filtering in through both the front and back entrances. Draco's eyes and ears tuned in to any sound, everyone's feet silenced with cushioning charms. His heart thumped tightly in the base of his throat as he tried to be the first to race upstairs. He heard doors flinging open to his right as he reached the first door. He threw it open and stood frozen in the frame. This was her room, it had to be. He looked over the neat bedspread, the rows of books that seemed to have missing volumes, and finally landed on Muggle pictures. He stepped forward and took one. It was a man smiling wildly, but the picture was off-centre. He frowned. It was as if there was supposed to be another person in the picture. He put the photograph down and turned to the others. An empty frame with just a birthday cake in it, a woman holding empty space in her arms, these pictures all seemed to be missing something.

“Find anything?” Dolohov snarled as he paced into the room.

Draco shook his head. “Nothing.”

Dolohov nodded at the frame Draco was holding. “What's that then?” He grabbed it out of Draco's hand, staring at it.

“It's a Muggle photograph.”

Dolohov dropped the frame to the dresser with a clatter. “Well, come on then. Yaxley's found why the lights are going on and off.” They walked into a different room, and Draco wondered if this was her parents' bedroom. He felt a wave of relief at the realization that no one was here. He caught the object Yaxley tossed to him, and examined it.

“Any idea what it is?” Dolohov asked Yaxley, both men ignoring Draco. Yaxley shrugged his shoulders, but it was Draco who answered.

“It's an automatic light switch.”

“And how would you know that, boy?” Mulciber had climbed upstairs from the main floor.

“Muggle Studies.” Draco muttered, earning a bark of laughter.

“Muggle Studies.” Yaxley spat out. He walked over to Draco, wrenching the switch out of his hands and letting it fall to the floor. “Most useless class in Hogwarts. Worse than Divination, that one.” He stomped on the switch and ground his heel into the floor. Draco didn't even flinch as he mentally celebrated the fact that Hermione was safe despite his cowardice.

Hermione hated flying in all its forms, she decided. She clenched her arms tightly around Kingsley's hips and closed her eyes as she felt the Thestral's strong muscles moving under her.

“Look alive, Hermione.” Kingsley's booming voice was barely above the roar of the wind and she blinked open. He patted her hands reassuringly. “I'll get you through this, girl. Your only objective is to stay alive. You aim to kill. Understood?”

She nodded stiffly. “Yes, sir.” She swallowed the excess spit in her mouth as they burst through a cloud and all hell broke loose. Her breathing grew ragged as she took in the battle. Her hands loosened around Kingsley's robes but he patted her again, and she squeezed slightly before raising her wand.

“Rictusempra!” Hermione cringed as the first spell to leave her mouth was a tickling curse. What was that?!

“Uh...Hermione? Now is not the time for joking!” Kingsley yelled and Hermione aimed again.

“Stupefy!” The next spell went wild as the Thestral jerked to avoid a spell in its path, Hermione cursed.

“Keep going!” One of the twins yelled out as they whizzed by with Arthur. Before she could take in a breath, she felt the searing sting of a burn curse flow past her shoulder. She whipped her head back and cast the first spell on her mind.

“Confingo!” The Death Eater yelped as their broom was blasted into smithereens, making them fall out of the sky. Adrenaline coursed through her veins and she turned back to blast another stupefy. She had to get out of this.

Draco paced in his room, rolling his shoulder as his old Hippogriff wound flared up. He winced offhandedly, and checked the time with a quick tempus charm. His father had left hours ago, and was meant to be leading the charge in hunting down Potter. His hand wandered into his pocket, squeezing the disillusioned Galleon. The thrumming of magic in the coin was the only thing keeping him sane. He cast around for something to distract himself, but nothing came to mind.

A silver Patronus burst through the wall in the shape of a swarm of bees, startling him from his thoughts. Pansy. Theo's brown bear Patronus followed a moment later, sitting back on its haunches. Seeing his friends come to him in the only way they could, he conjured his own and sent the fox out to Theo first, then Pansy.

Just then, the wards in the Manor alerted him to his father's return, and he ran out just in time to see his father Apparate into the foyer.

“Well?” Draco demanded, all semblance of peace gone as he raced down the stairs to meet him. His hands shook as he watched Narcissa gather Lucius up tenderly.

“Nott's dead. Mad-Eye cursed him out of the sky before The Dark Lord descended on him.” Lucius threaded his hands into Narcissa's blonde hair, eyes wide as he pulled her in. Narcissa cupped his face tenderly, dropping loving kissing on her husband's lips.

“Did the Dark Lord get Potter? Is it done?” Narcissa whispered. Neither looked at Draco as they clung tightly.

Lucius shook his head furiously, and his fingers tightened. “No, there were too many of them. They must've used Polyjuice to disguise him. It was madness. Rookwood thought he had him and called Voldemort, but-” He hissed loudly as Draco felt a sharp pain through his Mark.

“He's coming.” Lucius cried out. Narcissa motioned Draco to come to her, and they huddled into each other as Voldemort Apparated into the foyer of the Manor, dragging Rookwood with him.

“My lord, please have mercy! I beg you!” Rookwood was scrabbling uselessly against the marble tile, his Death Eater mask askew.

“Failure! I am surrounded by nothing but failure!” Voldemort's voice permeated Draco's very skull and he cringed backwards as the Dark Lord raised his father's wand, pointing it at the prostrating Death Eater.

“Crucio!”

Nott turned at the sound of his Floo activating, and his wand trembled in his hand. A second later, Pansy stepped out of the green flames, brushing the soot off her shoulders. They gravitated towards each other, hands gripping tightly as he pulled her into his arms.

“I sent him a Patronus so he'd know-” Pansy started to speak.

“-that he's never alone.” Theo nodded, finishing her thought. They smiled at each other and sank into the couch. A house-elf popped into the room abruptly.

“Welcome, Mistress Parkinson. May Lala get you anything?” The female house-elf bowed deeply, and Pansy grimaced in distaste. She'd never liked house-elves much.

“Nothing, Lala.”

Lala bowed again before popping away, and Pansy sank into Theo's arms. “How does it feel to be the master of the house?”

Theo chuckled as he ran his fingers through his already-tousled hair. “Empty.” The one word spoke volumes, and Pansy pressed a hand to his chest. He looked down at her with a sad smile on his face. “D'you think they'll be alright?”

Pansy thought of a certain red-haired boy and she looked down. “I don't know.”

“They're Gryffindors, they'll survive the apocalypse.” Blaise padded casually into the drawing room holding a mug of coffee.

Pansy let out an emotionless laugh. “Isn't that what this is? The apocalypse?”

Theo's fingers gripped her shoulder. “No. This is war.”

The trio fell into silence.

Hermione helped Ginny fuss over Fleur as she prepared to wed Bill in the Burrow's back yard. As her fingers braided the French girl's hair expertly, she smiled at her through the mirror.

“You have such beautiful hair. I wish mine would tame as easily.”

“Veektor used to tell me zat he liked your wild hair, Heir-my-oh-nee.” Fleur winked as she reached back and tugged a wayward curl. “I seenk he was right.”

The brunette blushed and shook her head, twisting the finished braid to circle the bun that sat at the bride's crown. “Have you spoken to him? How is he? We lost touch after last year.” Her gaze drew down as she recalled how tumultuous her sixth year at Hogwarts had been.

Fleur patted her hand still on her shoulder. “He eez good. Een fact, he shall be at ze wedding. Perhaps you two can, er, reconnect?” Hermione's face lit up and she nodded eagerly. Distantly, she wondered if he would ask about Draco. Even more distantly, she wondered what she would say.

As the wedding guests began to arrive, Hermione peeked through the bridal tent to see which she recognized. Immediately, she found Fleur's mother, father, and Gabrielle, her little sister. She turned back to excuse herself as Ginny put on the finishing touches.

“Monsieur and Madame Delacour, so lovely to finally meet you. Gabrielle, how are you?” Hermione pulled the young witch into a tight hug as they reunited before showing them to the bridal suite. As mother and daughter reunited, she slipped out of the bridal tent, going to find Molly to help finish setting up.

“Herminny!” Hermione whirled around in her simple lavender sundress to find Viktor walking towards her.

“Viktor!” She beamed as she ran to meet him, throwing her arms around the young man's broad shoulders. The two years apart had been kind to him, she noticed. His broad shoulders were even more muscular than before, and he had grown his hair out to chin-length, suiting his face and giving him even more of a rugged look. Pulling away, she blushed as she noticed his large hands around her waist, holding her to him. “It's so good to see you! I'm so sorry we lost touch. How have you been? Last we spoke, you had just injured your hamstring, are you alright-”

“Herminny, you talk to fast again.” Viktor's voice, deeper than she remembered, cut in, and she giggled.

“I'm sorry, I'm just excited. I missed you.” They shared a smile and he pulled her into a more tender hug.

“It has been a, ah, difficult year for us all.” Viktor murmured, and Hermione nodded against his shoulder. Her stomach twisted as they both silently remembered the loss that was Albus Dumbledore.

“Karkaroff?” Hermione asked hesitantly. She vaguely remembered the old Death Eater-turned-Dumstrang headmaster.

Viktor shook his head. “Dead. Death Eaters found him and killed him last year.”

She squeezed his broad hand sympathetically, and he smiled, reaching up to cup her face. She giggled as he teasingly tugged a curl of her hair out from behind her ear, neither of them paying attention to the growing crowd around them as guests began to Apparate in.

“Still such wild hair.”

“I see you've grown yours. She leaned up and threaded her fingers through the ends of his. She watched his eyes slide close as he savoured the feel, and a tingle of pleasure rushed through her.

“You like?” He asked almost as if he were self-conscious, though Hermione couldn't imagine why.

“I do. It suits you.” She felt a swell of joy as their eyes met.

“Veektor!” Both of them turned just in time to see Fleur waving fiercely through the flapping bridal tent. Hermione grinned and tugged Viktor towards it, him pulling his old friend into a gentle hug. Fleur pulled away to give them a look of appraisal before smiling.

“But you weel be dates for ze wedding, yes? Seence you are both single.”

The two in question looked at each other before nodding. “It shall be like, how you say, old times.” Viktor held out his arm and Hermione easily linked her hand into his.

“Just like old times.” She echoed. The early notes of music began to play and they looked at each other before looking at the bride. “Ready?”

Fleur brought herself up to her full height and lifted her chin, her blue eyes twinkling with warmth as she stood as stately as the Muggle Queen. “Ready.”

Viktor led Hermione down the aisle, both vividly reminded of the Yule Ball two years ago. Leading her towards the front, she leaned in and whispered for him to grab a seat next to Harry (disguised as a distant cousin Barney) and Ron, both of whom were waving at her excitedly. As she settled in her seat, she bit back a small giggle as Ron stumbled over his words, still slightly awestruck by the Seeker. She quickly hushed them as the music changed to the bridal tune, and they all turned to watch Fleur being walked down the aisle by her father.

“Even at a half-Veela wedding, you are still the most beautiful girl.”

Hermione shivered as Viktor whispered into her ear. She bit her lip and gently nudged him, earning a soft chuckle that raised Harry's eyebrows. “Your English has improved.” She spoke out of the corner of her mouth and Viktor's smile widened.

“I practiced for you.” He admitted, noting how brightly she smiled. They watched in comfortable silence as Bill and Fleur recited their vows, and soon it was time for the reception.

“Where is Harry? I was hoping to speak with him” Viktor asked, and Hermione started.

“Oh! Um, well, you see...” She beckoned him closer and whispered in his ear. “We had to disguise him because You-Know-Who, but you see the boy over there next to Ron and Ginny? That's him. Just...call him Barney.”

“Barney?” He raised an eyebrow and she shrugged her shoulders helplessly. With a nod, he leaned in to kiss her cheek. “I'll be back.” Hermione watched him and fought the ridiculous urge to giggle.

“So.” She turned and caught sight of Fleur making her way over.

“Fleur! Or should I call you Mrs. Weasley now?” Hermione teased as she air-kissed the bride to not muss her makeup.

“I'll allow Fleur.” The blonde said imperiously for a moment before they dissolved into laughter. As she took a breath, she nodded over to Viktor, who was still speaking with Harry. “Eet was good zat he came, n'est ce pas?”

“Oui, it's so good to see him again.” Hermione fell quiet as she felt a faint fluttering in her stomach. She'd forgotten what true excitement, not fuelled by fear, felt like.

“He eez good for you, you know.” Fleur leaned in and said knowingly. “Unless...eez there another?”

Hermione shook her head as her heart clenched painfully. She hadn't heard from Draco at all and it had been nearly three months since they'd last seen each other. “No, there is no one else.”

“Mm.” Hermione turned and caught Fleur's look of disapproval. “Whoever zees 'no one' eez, he eez a fool. But, how you Eenglish say? One fool's waste eez another person's gold. Don't let moments pass because you wait too long. Time eez not enough these days.” She concluded as Bill slid his arm around her waist, pulling her into a soft kiss.

“Everything alright, Hermione?” Bill asked.

Hermione nodded, her eyes bright with both pain and joy as she shared a look of appreciation with Fleur. “I'm so happy for you both, truly. If you'll please excuse me.” She walked towards Viktor and laid a hand on his arm, getting his attention.

“Viktor, may I borrow you?” She smiled at Harry-Barney as she pulled Viktor away.

“Herminny? Are you okay?”

“I'm great. I was wondering if you'd like to dance, though.” She asked shyly, batting her lashes. She watched his eyes widen before he took an unconscious step towards her, his arms already coming to circle her body.

“It would be my honour.” His voice dipped low and she grinned. She let him steer her towards the small dance floor, their Triwizard dance training flooding back to them.

“It's like riding a broom.” Viktor said cheekily, and Hermione rolled her eyes.  Of course a Seeker would equate it to that.

“I wouldn't know, I hate riding.”

“Ah, yes I forgot. Miss Herminny Granger, the only girl I've ever met that hates riding a broom.” Her lips tugged into a reluctant smile at his teasing. They danced easily before Viktor asked. “How about Draco? He is a Seeker, yes?”

Hermione's eyes dropped and her fingers tightened in his formal robes. “He is, yes. Well, he was back in school. I don't know now.” Her voice trailed off and she swallowed uncomfortably.

“What happened?” Viktor probed, and Hermione gave him a half-shrug, her eyes still averted.

“He was there when-when Dumbledore died. He's gone to the other side. So, I don't think there's any chance anymore.” She stumbled over her words, finishing off clumsily. She could feel Viktor's gaze on her but she refused to look at him, instead leaning her cheek on his chest.

“Ah, Herminny.” He sighed and gathered her closer. “If he will not deserve you, I take you back. I promised that no one else would have you, remember?”

Hermione teared up and she finally looked up to see him smiling down at her. “But the war..”

Viktor shrugged, giving her a dose of his roguish smile. “You do what you must, I will help too. Find me after the war.” His thumb brushed over her cheek again as he leaned down, his lips hovering over hers. “Yes?

Hermione closed her eyes and whispered, “Yes.” She raised herself to her tiptoes and met his lips in the middle, pressing a soft kiss to them. The gentle kiss paused their dancing as he cupped her face with his hands, and she let out a soft moan.

“My little vidra.” Viktor mumured against her lips.

“Vidra?”

“Otter. My little otter.”

Their noses nudged against each other as they changed positions, and she slid her arms up to circle his neck, her fingers tightly winding into his dark waves.

A lynx patronus burst through the tent and exploded into a scene of fleeing wizards in the middle of the dance floor, startling all the guests and making Hermione and Viktor separate. Kingsley's voice boomed in the echoing silence.

“The Ministry has fallen. The Minister of Magic is dead.” Hermione clutched Viktor's arms tightly, his fingers pressing bruises into her waist. “They are coming.” Kingsley's voice echoed for second longer before the final message. “Run.” The silver patronus evaporated and pandemonium erupted.

“Herminny, go!” Viktor's voice was urgent in her ear and she looked up at him, not understanding. “Take Harry and Ron, get out!” She watched him take out his wand, pushing her behind him as he looked wildly for any sign of the Death Eaters.

“Viktor, no! You have to go-” She tried to speak but her voice was a squeak.

“Hermione!” Harry's voice called out to her, and her head swivelled to find him running towards her, Ron following.

“Herminny, go!” Viktor's voice was harsher than she'd ever heard, and her eyes filled with tears. Looking back at her, his face twisted and he turned to cup her cheek quickly. “Go. Be safe. Maybe we find each other again.” He tried to smile, and Hermione let out a sob. Why was it always like this? First Draco, now Viktor.

“Hermione, come on!” Harry was at her side, tugging on her arm.

She wrenched her arm away for a second and threw herself at Viktor, kissing him fiercely. Pulling away, she mustered all her Gryffindor determination and levelled a stern look at him.

“You'd better survive, Viktor Krum.”

He flashed her a smile. “Anything for you, Hermione.”

She nodded and turned, taking Harry and Ron's hands. She twisted in her spot, Disapparating away.

Neville finished folding his last extra pair of school robes and placed them into his luggage apprehensively. With Dumbledore gone, his stomach twisted at the thought of returning to school. Was there even a point?

“Of course there's a point.” Augusta Longbottom strode into her grandson's room and sternly eyed him. “There is always a point to rebellion against injustice.”

His looked to the framed picture at his desk. She followed the movement and went to pick it up. He watched his grandmother's face remain unsmiling as she gazed down at her son and daughter-in-law. She turned the frame around and pointed to them. “They believed in you. And I do too.” Her matter of fact tone contrasted with her uncharacteristically moist eyes. “You go and you make them proud.”

“Yes, Nan. I will.” Neville smiled at his grandmother for the first time in a very long time.

Ginny slammed the bedroom door with an exasperated scream and threw herself at her bed. Twin pops alerted her to her brothers' presences and she rolled herself onto her back.

“Come on, Gin. You shouldn't take it out on the poor bed.” George joked, and she looked over at him, his ear still in bandages.

“I don't understand why I need to go back to Hogwarts. Not like there's any point, You-Know-Who is out there, I should be helping! Instead, Mum's sending me off like I'm useless!”

Fred looked over at his brother and they both sat down next to her. “You know it's not like that. She wants you safe. Bill's donating Shell Cottage to the Order as a safehouse, and Charlie's in Romania gathering reinforcements. We've lost Percy-” All three of them grimaced before he continued. “and then you've got Ron who's gone off with Harry. You're the baby, and the only girl. Can you blame her?”

Ginny sat up and sighed as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed, sitting between them. “But I'm not a baby-”

“You will always be the baby, Gin.” Fred and George said simultaneously, twin grins on their faces. She rolled her eyes shoving them both. “You lot better break me out the moment the fighting starts so I can save your arses from You-Know-Who.”

Draco felt the air shift around his as soon as he stepped onto Platform 9 3/4. He fixed his attention forward, intensely aware of how the crowd parted for him and his parents. Conversations halted and voices dropped to a low rumble of muttering as they passed family after family with stacked school trunks and pets. He felt on the verge of collapse when he felt his mother's soothing touch on his shoulder.

“Eyes up, Draco.” A gentle reminder of his breeding, Draco raised his eyes automatically, unfortunately landing on the Weasley family. His gaze met the Weaslette's furious glare, and quickly let them slide away as if he didn't notice her at all.

“Weasley.” Lucius' voice showed no indication of his torture, matching his glamoured appearance.

“Malfoy.” The patriarch spat out. The families lingered for a moment before Lucius and Narcissa escorted Draco towards the Slytherin carriages. Arriving at the divide between Slytherin and Gryffindor carriages, Narcissa leaned in to brush a speck of invisible dust from Draco's lapel.

“As soon as you arrive, head straight for Severus. Mind your teachers, and be careful around the Carrows.”

“Carrows?” Draco asked, and Lucius shook his head.

“Amycus will be your Defense professor this year.” Lucius grimaced as his mind conjured the brutal Death Eater's face. “His sister Alector will be the Muggle Studies professor.”

Draco took in a shuddering breath. “I'll be careful.”

The patriarch clasped his son on the shoulder and looked carefully at his son. “See that you do. Your most important duty is to stay alive and come home to us. Understand?” His voice was low and nervous, searching his son's face. Before Draco could respond, the familiar train whistle signalled the impending departure of the train, and Draco turned to leave.

“Draco!” He barely had time to turn around before he was engulfed in his mother's arms.

“Be careful, and don't take risks. Do you understand me?” Narcissa whispered urgently.

They fixed on each other for a long moment before he stepped out of her embrace. A sudden look of fear flashed over her eyes and Draco watched her force herself from reaching out to him again. Stepping onto the train blindly, he kept his eyes trained on hers until the train reached its first bend, his heart hammering in his chest.

Finally, he tore his gaze away and made his way to his usual carriage, slowly building up his apathetic persona. It would be his armour this year.

“Death Eater.” He looked up to see the nearly the entire carriage standing in the hallway, staring at him. He'd accidentally stepped into the Gryffindor carriage instead of the Slytherin one. He blinked as his eyes get the glares of his classmates before his lips formed a familiar smirk. He lifted his chin and straightened his shoulders as he drew himself to his full height, levelling his best glare at his underclassmen. As he reached the end of the carriage that led to the Slytherin carriages, Seamus stepped out in front of him, a scowl on his face.

“Malfoy. Why'd you even come back?”

Draco looked down his nose at the diminutive boy. “Out of my way, Finnegan. Unless you'd like to be on the business end of my wand.”

“Think you're tough, do you?” Dean Thomas snarled as he stepped out of the cabin, and Draco groaned inwardly.

Fucking Gryffindors. He rolled his eyes and shoved the boys into their cabins, deftly locking them in with a quick Colloportus. He shouldered his way through the crowd, ignoring their protests, before finally throwing the Slytherin carriage door open, silencing the crowd behind him. He searched for his friends.

“Draco, over here!” His shoulders sagged in relief as he walked towards Pansy who was waving her hand. “Where have you been?”

“Stepped into the wrong carriage.” He mumbled as he collapsed into the booth.

“Brutal, mate.” Theo shoved a cup of exploding bon-bons in front of him in mock sympathy.

Draco grimaced as he shot a glare at the boy, pushing them back. “Why would I want that?”

Theo's face dropped comically before he held the cup out to Goyle, who took a piece. Draco leaned away instinctively as the bull of a boy unwrapped the confection. No sooner had he bitten into the piece, a cloud of chocolate and edible glitter erupted in the simple boy's face, covering his clothes and his skin. Theo's laughter rang out through the carriage as Goyle attempted to brush the dust away. Even Draco had begun to smirk at the great boor's plight when the train came to an abrupt stop.

“Whoa! The fuck is that?” Pansy pushed her jet-black hair out of her face and glared out the window. The boys leaned over to look, suddenly growing serious as the noticed black swirling figures descend upon the train.

“Dementors?” Blaise couldn't conceal the shake from his voice.

“Death Eaters.” Theo muttered darkly, and they exchanged looks. It was unlikely that their carriages would be targeted, given Salazar Slytherin's favouritism towards purebloods. Still, they crowded around the windows that joined their carriage to the others and watched.

“Where are they taking them?” Pansy asked. Draco felt a sense of dread as he saw students attempt to defend themselves, only to be promptly disarmed and bound before they were Disapparated away.

“I don't know.” He admitted. His palms began to sweat as he watched the train grow empty. By the time the Death Eaters had left, half of the students were no longer there.

“How do I do this?” Severus asked. Albus' portrait peered at him with twinkling eyes.

“Severus, you were meant to do this all along.”

“Minerva is better suited-”

“Minerva is too rigid with rules, and none of the other members of staff have the same level of clearance as you. I would entrust no one else.” Albus said firmly, and Severus sighed, tugging at his collar. He was supposed to greet the students momentarily as they arrived from the Hogwarts train. His throat felt tight as he recalled who would be joining the staff.

“How do I protect them, Albus?” He implored, hoping to gain some pearl of wisdom from the dead man's portrait. Although the portrait had hung in the office since Draco's mission had been confirmed, it was no substitution for the real thing. If Albus hadn't divulged a plan to it in life, it would not relay anything in his death.

The portrait's lips smiled. “You will do your best. Remember what needs to happen. Other than that, I trust your judgement. It has led you this far.” It opened its arms wide, and Severus scoffed.

“My judgment...” He muttered. My judgment led to Lily's death. He strode out of the office with a swish of his cloak, and flew down the castle corridors to the staff entrance of the Welcome Hall.

Severus watched as Filius led the sorted students into the Hall, watching from the podium as they sat in their respective houses. A smattering of murmurs broke out as classmates reunited but a wave of his wand to dim the floating candles above made all conversations cease.

“You may bring the new students in.”

He spoke directly to Minerva, who nodded curtly from the doors and swiftly exited them. As he waited, he let his eyes rove around the hall, taking in how few students there were. His eyebrows furrowed. There had been more enrolled at the end of the summer, and yet the hall was so sparse that nearly half the tables were empty. He searched and found Draco's bright blond hair. Good, he was looking at him.

Draco felt a sudden but familiar intrusion as Severus wandlessly entered his mind.

“What happened on the train?” Snape's voice echoed, and Draco fought to keep his expression still.

“Death Eaters.” Draco pushed the memories of the train to the forefront of his mind, and Snape watched as students were arrested and Apparated away, presumably to the Ministry for interrogation.

“And so it begins.” Snape abruptly pulled out of Draco's mind as Minerva led the new students, or the ones that remained, into the hall.

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose as he scowled into his dinner plate. Dumbledore's Army members were starting to create trouble. Never more than whispers, he didn't need to use Legilimency to know that a rebellion was starting to rise in the students. He looked to his left and glared at Minerva as she primly ate her food. He wouldn't be surprised if she was helping in some way. With a sigh, he rose from his seat and silently filed out of the Hall, walking towards the Headmaster office.

He walked through the familiar corridors of his childhood an employment, his thoughts a tumultuous tornado. His only duty was to protect Potter, but with the blasted 'Golden Trio' now in Grimmauld Place, he had no way of helping. As he turned to go down the final hallway, he squinted in the darkness. Why were the hallway candles unlit? His pace slowed and he tread carefully.

“Do you hear something?”

“Shh, you're hearing things, mate. He's still at dinner.”

“They need to hurry up, what if he comes back?”

Severus' spy instincts made his hand itch towards his wand but he paused at the sound of the voices, immediately recognizing the students speaking. The Seamus Finnigan and Lee Jordan. He groaned inwardly even as he crept forward. Gryffindors.

“I'm telling you, I heard something!”

“You lot are too loud, we could hear you all the way from upstairs! Ginevra Weasley's voice hissed and Severus Disillusioned himself to watch. His eyebrow lifted as he watched the Longbottom boy exit the stairwell leading to the headmaster office with-

“Is that it?” Seamus asked.

“Yeah. Sword of Gryffindor.” Neville huffed as he hoisted the sword in his arms.

“How're ya gonna give it to Harry?” 10 points to Gryffindor for asking the right question for a change, Severus mused. How was he going to send it to them? He glanced over at the Weasley girl. She would have access to Grimmauld Place, but that would mean leaving Hogwarts. He'd sealed the secret passageways out of Hogwarts at the start of the term, she would need help.

“I don't know, but at least it's out of old Snape's reach.” Ginny snarled quietly.

They began to walk quickly down the corridor, and Severus made a snap decision. Revealing himself, he folded his arms as he watched them scramble backwards in surprise, the Longbottom boy turning white.

“Professor!”

“100 points from Gryffindor, 25 each. You will all serve detention with...Professor McGonagall for a week, since she is your head of house. Give me the sword.”

He took the sword from Neville and made his way up the steps. His lips curled as he heard Neville's words.

“Now what do we do?”

Now, you leave it to me. Severus swept into the Headmaster office.

“Any news?” Severus asked Phineas Black. The portrait was linked to Grimmauld Place, and had made Severus aware of the trio's activities since their arrival.

“Nothing, except that that blasted house-elf Kreacher seems intent on bringing more filth into the house than actually cleaning it.” Headmaster Black harrumphed pompously, making Severus roll his eyes.

His mind turned to the replica of the Sword of Gryffindor ready to be handed to the Dark Lord at the right time. He would need to plant the idea into Lucius' mind. He brushed off the uncomfortable realization that this plan would lead to another round of torture as the Dark Lord was reminded of Lucius' failures, but it was a necessary means to and end. Potter would need the sword, and Severus had to ensure his own safety and reliability in bringing it to the Dark Lord, so that his charges were as safe as they could be.

Just then, he felt the wards in the Headmaster office activate, and he turned in time to see Draco climb up the stairs.

“Mr. Malfoy.” Severus looked at the boy impassively. Gone were the airs he'd possessed as a boy, to be replaced with the dark determination of someone who knew the stakes being gambled. “To what do I owe this...pleasure?”

Draco sat in front of his old head of House and look up at him. “What's the plan?”

“The plan?”

Draco waved his hand around vaguely. “He's back, and yet I come to school? You can't seriously expect me to have an education here.”

Severus leaned forward. “You will stay at Hogwarts and you will complete your courses so that you may graduate. That is your only duty here, unless the Dark Lord seeks you for other needs.” My Unbreakable Vow is still in place.

Draco huffed and leaned back in his chair. “I'm not a child, I don't need to be babysat. I should be out there, doing something.” They're out there.

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Don't be so quick to throw away your life. There may come a time when you are needed. You recall what I told you last year?”

Draco thought back to the start of his training, and he nodded. “You trained me so I wouldn't throw my life away, but I will be unmovable when I am needed.”

Severus gave him a look of approval. As with most things in this world...“Timing.”

**TRIGGER WARNING STARTS NOW** - MENTIONS OF MENSTRUATION

Hermione groaned inwardly as she felt the telltale back ache and cramps that preceded her period. Grabbing her purse, she stuck her arm in, feeling for the tampons and pads she'd placed in there at the start of their journey.

“Bollocks.” She swore softly, but not softly enough.

“Something wrong?” Harry asked. Ron was on the other side of the tent, listening to a small wireless radio. She shook her head, cheeks flaming up, as she berated herself. Stupid, stupid Hermione!

“Come on, I can see it on your face. What's happened?” Harry's voice grew louder, attracting Ron's attention.

“What's going on?” Ron ambled over, and Hermione closed her eyes in embarrassment.

“It's nothing-”

“It's not nothing, look at you!” Harry insisted, and she shot him an irritated look.

“It's not something to do with the Horcruxes, it's...it's...” She felt hot everywhere as she tried to look anywhere but at the boys. It was perfectly normal to have a period, of course, but she highly doubted that either of them would be of any help in this situation.

“Just spit it out, 'Mione.” Ron demanded, plopping on the floor in front of her cross-legged as he stared up at her intently. She looked down at him and smiled at his earnestness in spite of herself.

“Fine, but don't blame me for the repurcussions. It's a feminine issue. I need supplies.” She looked between both boys and caught the moments of clarity as her situation dawned on them. She bit her lip and fidgeted as she watched them exchange looks, Ron turning redder than she'd ever seen him while Harry simply looked down sheepishly.

“Of all the things you packed, you forgot to pack that?” Ron asked incredulously, and she shook her head.

“I had enough for at least another cycle but I'd unpacked at Grimmauld, remember? Then, we Apparated in with Yaxley and I couldn't grab them before we had to leave. So, now I don't have enough.” She stared down at her lap, ashamed. From her periphery, she saw Harry's hand come over to awkwardly pat her knee.

“It's alright, Hermione. We'll figure something out. How-how much do you normally need?” Harry asked, and her heart nearly burst at his tenderness.

“Um, if we can find a shop somewhere close, I can try and grab a cup. If not, I'll make do with using clothes as reuseable pads.”

“A cup? What's a cup?” Ron's face turned green as she gave him a quick lesson on female products, and he stumbled out of the tent mumbling that he needed air. She exchanged a look with Harry and laughed as she noticed his own expression.

“Do you need to go get air too?”

“No, but I'm definitely gay.” Harry muttered, grinning when she shoved him.

The days wore on and they travelled slowly as the weather began to cool. Hermione fretted inwardly at their dwindling supplies, and she began to plan for the eventuality that she would need to make her own menstrual supplies. She refused to bring it up to the boys again, as the first time had been humiliating enough, thank you very much. Still, she felt a pang of envy every now and then.

It was late one evening after they'd finished setting up the tent and putting up wards that Ron made to leave.

“Where're you going?” Harry asked, and Hermione looked up from studying the book of fairy-tales Dumbledore had gifted her.

Ron ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. “I need a walk. Don't worry, I've got my wand. I'll be careful.” He lumbered out of the tent, leaving them in the silence, and she sighed.

“He feels cooped up, that's all.” Harry assured her, but she just shot him a look.

“Don't we all?”

“You know he's never been that good at this stuff, not like you.” Harry wheedled.

Hermione looked down at the book. “Yes, well, apparently me being 'good at this stuff' still isn't good enough because we're no further along than we were weeks ago.” She felt tears sting and she wiped them away angrily.

“I'm back! Look what I-'Mione what's wrong?” Ron's eyes grew wide as he entered the tent to see Hermione's face blotchy and tear-soaked. He dropped the plastic bag on the floor unceremoniously and rushed over to her.

“I-I'm fine.” Hermione hiccuped, surprised by Ron's gentleness as he rubbed her cheeks with his fingers, kneeling in front of her. “I'm just worried about how we're going to find the other Horcruxes.”

Ron nodded quietly. “I think we're all worried about that. And...” He looked over at Harry before he turned back at her. “I think Harry and I have always relied on you. For school and stuff. The stress is enough to make you mental. And, and I know I'm no good at this stuff, but if there's anything I can do...you'd tell me, right?” A strain of insecurity weaved in his words, and Hermione nodded, smiling through fresh tears.

“Of course I would.” A small voice whispered, I shouldn't have to, Draco would know what to do, but she shoved it away. She fidgeted with the locket around her neck and sighed before remembering. “What did you bring back?”

“Right! Come, check this out. I dunno if I got the right stuff or not, but I figured at least something would be right. Ron grabbed the dropped plastic bag and gave it to her.

Hermione gasped as she opened the bag to find several boxes of supplies. “Oh, Ronald!” She pulled out a box of overnight pads, a box of light tampons, and two different types of menstrual cups. At the bottom of the bag, she yelped and fished out several Muggle chocolates.

“How on earth did you pay for all of this- you did pay for it, didn't you?” Hermione's face turned to one of of horror as she looked down at him.

Ron nodded earnestly. “Course I did! I'm no thief. Lucky we have Muggle money though. Dunno what I would've done otherwise.”

Hermione winced as she recalculated how much money they had. They would need a wizarding bank if they wanted to exchange funds, but how on earth would they do that without being caught?

“So, did I get it right?” Ron asked nervously, and Hermione nodded as she threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

“You did wonderfully, Ronald. Thank you!” She placed a heartfelt kiss on his cheek, making his ears pink. Over her shoulders, Harry gave him a thumbs up, and he grinned.

**TRIGGER WARNING ENDS HERE**

**TRIGGER WARNING STARTS HERE** MENTIOS OF UNWANTED CHILD LEADING TO CHILD ABUSE

Slap. Theo felt the sting of his father's backhand across his face and he shuddered in his chair. He could smell the alcohol clinging to his father's very being, and he forced himself not to retch all over himself.

“Look at me, boy.” Nott Senior snarled, and Theo forced himself to look up, tears stinging his eyes. The nightmares always started this way. Tame enough, just some light smacking around before the real show began. He watched his father's face twist in rage as he stumbled to the table and took another swig firewhiskey. “I never wanted children to begin with. Your mother kept you a secret until it was too late to abort you. And then you came out, and she went and died in the process. She left me with you. Useless lump of a boy, you disgust me.” Nott Senior's spittle flew in Theo's face, and he could only turn his face away, his arms bound to the chair.

“Crucio!”

Theo screamed and writhed in pain against the bonds holding him to the chair. He felt the skin around his wrists tear and bleed as his muscles cried out from pain and he tried to curl into a ball.

“You are no son of mine, boy.” Theo's eyes shut as tears dropped to his cheeks.

“Theo, Theo!” Theo could hear a girl's voice but all he felt was pain.

“Theo! Wake up!” Pansy shook him awake and he blinked bleary-eyed.

“What happened?”

“Nightmare.” Pansy's face was pale even in the glow of the fireplace. They were in the Slytherin common room. Theo went to rub his face, but Pansy stopped him. He felt a jolt of pain and he pulled away, looking down. He was bleeding from deep scratches along his wrists, self-inflicted judging by his bloody nails.

“Fuck.” He sighed.

“You should go to the hospital wing.” Pansy said quietly but he shook his head. He waved his wand silently and conjured bandages to wrap around the wounds.

“All better.” Theo tried to laugh off the injury, but Pansy gave him an exasperated look. They sat together silently looking at the fire before she asked the question he knew had been coming for a long time.

“Why did he hate you so much?”

“Same reason your dad hates you. Because we're born.” Theo's bottom lip trembled as an echo of his nightmare flashed before his eyes. Pansy reached over and carefully took his hand in hers, interlocking their fingers.

After a brief pause, she spoke spontaneously. “At least yours is dead.” Theo huffed a laugh as he squeezed her hand.

**TRIGGER WARNING ENDS HERE**

**TRIGGER WARNING STARTS HERE** ANIMAL ABUSE

Amycus Carrow glided into the room with a chilling smile on his face, the students immediately sitting down. He took in the class as he stood in the front, revelling in the palpable fear of the students. He was teaching a joint class of Gryffindors and Slytherins today. Since there were so few students in each year, several had been combined into one amalgamated class.

“Unforgivable Curses. You were taught them theoretically, now you will practice them, on these.”

He waved his wand several large cages, covered in sheets, floated into the classroom from his office. He watched with glee as the students raised their eyes curious to see what was under them. With a flourish, he unveiled the creatures. Nifflers, bowtruckles, and Red caps clung desperately to the cages. The creatures' mouths flapped open and closed uselessly as the students quickly realized that their teacher had silenced them.

“Let them go!” Seamus' voice rang out, and Amycus turned his focus to the shaking Gryffindor.

“Finnegan, right?”

“Yeah, that's right. Now, you let them go!”

Amycus scanned the rest of the class as he heard mumblings before he set his sharp grin back on Seamus. “I don't think I will. You just earned yourself detention for a week, though. Now, I'll show you how it's done.”

Amycus didn't bother to hide the thrill in his voice as he stepped forward and stuck his wand into a cage containing only nifflers. Pointing his wand at the cage with his other hand, he spoke sharply and he reached in and grabbed one by the neck. “Back up, the lot of you.” He deftly opened the cage and pulled the niffler he'd chosen out while the others cowered in fear. Closing the cage, he turned back to the class with a wild laugh. “There! Now, Imperio!”

The classroom gasped as they watched the struggling niffler relax even as it was being throttled in Amycus' grip. With a feral grin, the Death Eater turned to the class.

“What should I make it do? Shall I make it drown itself in the Black Lake? Should I make it leap to its death from the window? Oh, how about one of you use the spell on another one and we can make them fight each other?”

Several students turned pale and Lavender fainted, her body supported by Parvati as Neville tried to revive her. Amycus scowled and snapped at the class. “Enough theatrics!” He lifted the silencing charm on the niffler. “The next spell. Crucio!”

The class erupted into screams and shocked gasps as the niffler's scream pierced through the classroom.  Neville visibly shrank back as the poor creature's cries vibrated into the very bones of each student.  They watched in horror for seconds as the vulnerable little thing twisted and turned in agony, its little claws outstretched and muscles strained.  The stench of urine and feces filled the room as it released its bowels onto the floor in front of them. 

“Reducto!” Ginny's voice boomed over the chaos and Amycus found himself propelled backwards, the niffler scampering away and out of sight.

“You dare duel against me, girl?” Amycus righted himself snarling, and the class parted.

Ginny's hands trembled as she stepped forward, her wand upright. “You won't hurt the animals anymore.” Away from view, Lee Jordan slipped out of the classroom and ran to McGonagall's office.

The Carrow's snarl turned into a cruel smirk as he advanced, wand up. “Is that so?” Quicker than she could follow, he opened one of the other cages and grabbed a bowtruckle. He let it dangle upside down in his hand and lifted the silencing charm so the class could hear its pitiful screams. “Poor thing. You there, what's your name, girl?”

“Weasley. Ginevra Weasley.” Ginny stood tall even as her voice shook, and the Death Eater bared his teeth.

“Weasley, you say. Arthur the blood traitor's spawn. Well, watch what I'm going to do with this creature you're so fond of.”

Ginny sent a stinging hex before Amycus could curse the bowtruckle, making him drop the creature.

“Argh! That fucking hurt, you cunt!” Amycus shot a silent curse at Ginny, who aimed her wand to shield herself when her vision was blocked by a solid body.

“Out of the way, boy, unless you want to be next.” Amycus scowled.

“Professors aren't allowed to use magic as forms o f punishment. Professor Snape should have told you that.” Blaise's voice was all calm and cool even as his wand shook slightly in his hand. He spared a glance back at Ginny and asked in a low voice, “Alright there, Weasley?”

Ginny glared up at him, pushing a strand of auburn hair out of he eyes. “Never better, Zabini. Thanks for the assist.” She said begrudgingly, scoffing when he flashed her a smirk before turning back to the professor.

“Zabini, is it? Out of my way. She needs to be taught a lesson.” Amycus' voice was dangerous, his eyes glinting.

“Professor Carrow, what on earth is going on here?” Minerva burst into the class, Lee hot on her tail. Quickly assessing the scene, she pulled her wand out and pointed it directly at the Carrow, standing in front of Blaise. “Thank you, Mr. Zabini, for your admirable display of courage. 50 points to Slytherin. Class is dismissed, I need to speak to your professor.” The students began to run out of the classroom in fear.

“But Professor, the creatures-” Ginny stepped forward but McGonagall held up her hand.

“I will take care of it, Miss Weasley. Out please. You too, Mr. Zabini.” They left slowly, listening to the professors' conversation.

“You have no authority, McGonagall. I am Deputy Headmaster-” Amycus began to threaten but Minerva cut in.

“Shall we test your skill against mine, Amycus? You forget that I used to be your teacher.”

“You're a madwoman.” Blaise shot Ginny a look of pure admiration as he closed the door behind them. “Taking on the Carrows? That's bold.”

She grinned proudly. “You met my brothers, Fred and George, right? Where d'you think I learned it from?”

He smirked as he stuck his hands in his robes pockets. “Just be careful, or I'll have to make it a habit to rescue you.” He turned away, waving his hand indifferently as she yelled behind him.

“I didn't need you to rescue me!”

**TRIGGER WARNING ENDS HERE**

“Severus, I must speak with you.” Poppy walked into the Headmaster's office without pausing for his wards to drop. Little known fact: The Matron of Hogwarts was the only witch or wizard on staff who had unrestricted access inside and out of the castle, save for the Headmaster. Now, she exercised the free access without restraint.

“Poppy.” Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “What is it now?”

“'What is it now?' Between Dementors breaching the boundaries you set, the Carrow teachers using Unforgivables on students, and now I'm hearing of them turning students against each other to 'practice', have you lost your mind, boy?”

“Stop yelling, Poppy, I am sitting in front of you.” Severus complained, yearning to take out the firewhiskey he had hidden in the desk.

Poppy took one look at him and sank into the seat across from him. “Severus, why are you allowing this to happen?”

He looked over at her with an unreadable expression before turning away. If only you knew.

“Would you turn that blasted radio off!” Hermione flinched as Harry yelled across the tent to Ron. She looked up wearily and took in the scene: Harry on one side with his chest heaving and his eyes alight with anger while Ron sat in the corner, pale and ghostly with an expression so foul with disgust that she wondered if he had been replaced overnight by an evil twin.

“D'you know why I keep listening to the radio? It's so I can keep going! I listen to make sure that it's not Fred, or George, or Ginny, or Lupin, or anyone else's name on the radio list of dead people piling up because you can't get your shit together and find the next Horcrux!” Ron's face reddened, spit flying as he cursed at Harry, and Hermione stood up.

“Ronald, stop-”

“And you!” He rounded on her, and she took a step backward in fear. “'Brightest witch in our generation', eh? Some brilliant witch you are, can't find anything of use in that damned book!”

“Hey, enough!” Harry stepped between them, and Hermione felt a wave of relief. “She's doing the best she can! And what, did you think I wasn't worried too? I'm just as worried-”

“No, you're not just as worried! Hermione's gone and charmed her parents' memories away so she effectively doesn't have a family anymore, and yours are dead! Mine are still out there, fighting! Every day, they're risking their lives.” Ron screamed, and Hermione watched as the Horcrux locket swung tantalizingly out of his shirt.

“Ronald, give me the-” Hermione tried to interject but neither was paying attention anymore.

“I know what they're risking, what we're all risking. But if we don't get rid of these, he's going to kill everyone.” Harry argued.

Ron, finally having had enough, grabbed Harry by the shirt and growled. “You don't get it. They're my family! I-”

“Ron, I do! We both do. We undertand how important family is.”

“No, you don't understand! You don't have a family, neither of you.”

“You idiot, you are our family!” Harry shouted exasperatedly, and Hermione felt a swell of emotion as the words finally came out. The feeling must have shown on her face because Ron's face twisted, misunderstanding.

“You don't get it. I'm done.” Pulling the locket off of his neck, he dropped it to the floor before grabbing his bag and storming out. Hermione sank into the bed in tears as Harry stared after him.

“Draco, are you ready yet?” Narcissa's voice rang through the hall as she glided into his room while he fixed his suit. “Ah, darling there you are. The guests should be arriving soon. You'll be down at the foyer greeting them, won't you?”

“Yes mother.”

Ridiculous, he thought that they were hosting a New Year's Eve party as the British Wizarding world was on the brink of collapse and anarchy. Draco sighed as he looked in the mirror. A pang of pain rocketed in his chest as he thought of the war around them. The Dark Lord was growing more unhinged by the day, sending more scouts and enlisting Snatchers in the hopes of catching someone who knew where Potter was hiding.

The wards activated as guests began to Apparate into the Malfoy Manor driveway, and Draco braced himself for what would surely be a long night. As he arrived at the foyer, he felt the cold staccato that he now associated with the Dark Lord. He's here.

“Draco, come. The guests have arrived.” Lucius beckoned him nervously, glamoured fully. Draco looked around as he came to a stop next to his father.

“Where is he?” Draco hissed, and Lucius shook his head.

“The Dark Lord will not attend, he prefers to know that such celebrations are happening than be present for them.”

Then what am I feeling? Draco scanned the guests climbing the Malfoy Manor driveway. Was it just a sense of foreboding? He couldn't tell, but suddenly he was being greeted by simpering guests. Unsurprisingly, most of them were Death Eaters or supporters. His face twisted in a grimace as his duties wore on him, faces flurrying past as his gestures became automatic. He thought of his Slytherin friends, whom he'd left back in Hogwarts.

“Draco, good to see you.”

He turned his attention to the latest guest in front of him and stilled as he recognized the young man. “Viktor Krum.” He felt himself smoothly shake the wizard's hand, confusion clearly on his face. Viktor's face was a mask of impassivity, not letting anything slip. “How are you? It's been too long.” Memories of his fourth year flooded into his mind unwillingly and he fought to tamper them down.

“Eet has. May we speak? I think we have much to catch up on.” A meaningful lilt made Draco's attention sharpen, and he nodded smoothly.

“Of course. I will find you. Please, enjoy the festivities.” Draco watched Viktor disappear into the crowd of guests and turned back to the waiting attendees.

As the evening wore on, Draco settled into old familiar habits, sneering in the right places, and offering drinks to ply guests. He watched the permanent tempus charm as midnight approached.

“Draco.” Viktor had made his way back to the young Malfoy heir, who turned to him stiffly.

“Viktor. Shall we step away? You must update me on the latest Bulgarian wins, I'm afraid I haven't paid much attention this past year.” Draco's eyes showed nothing as the lie rolled off his tongue. They studied each other for a beat before Viktor let out a laugh.

“Not up to date? We shall change that, yes? Come, let's go somewhere quiet.”

Draco fixed a smile on his face and led the young man into a smaller sitting room. He closed the door behind him and steadied himself against the wood before turning to the young Seeker, his cool expression still in place.

“What did you want to talk about, Krum?”

Viktor studied the boy in front of him and tried to be tactical. "Have you returned to Hogwarts? I hear things have become difficult.”

Draco sneered. “Your English has improved. Things in Hogwarts are different. The Dark Lord wishes to bring the school back to its former glory.”

“And you? Are you supporting this, ah, worthy goal?”

Draco relaxed as he immediately saw through Viktor's amateur attempt at masking his real thoughts. Still, voices carried. “The Dark Lord's ideals are for the greater benefit of wizarding society. Magic is might, and I fully support-”

“Do you?”

“I do.”

Viktor turned and began to pace towards a window, mulling the information. He was fairly sure that Draco was lying, at least about being a supportive member. He chewed on his lip contemplating his next move.

“I once gave you an otter, do you remember?” He listened as Draco's steps neared him.

“An otter?” The blond's voice was low, a dangerous edge lining his words.

Viktor risked a glance to his side at the boy. “In Hogwarts. I said I give only to you, and I will take back if you aren't careful.”

Draco's nodded, letting nothing leak out. “I remember.” His chest ached as he recalled their last words to each other.

Viktor's expression changed to hard stone. “I have found that otter again.”

Draco took an unconscious step toward him. “You saw it? It, ah, is safe?”

Viktor dropped all pretenses as he grabbed Draco's shirt. “You left her alone and you ask if she is safe?”

Draco looked away as the man crowded him against the window. “I can only help her in my way.” He let the sting of despair enter his voice and felt Viktor loosen his grasp.

“Then I take her back.” The contempt was as sharp as any slap, and Draco watched the Bulgarian step away.

“I will take care of her.” Even if it is you she wants.

They stood silently as they watched fireworks explode above the Malfoy lawn.

“Happy New Year, Draco.”

“Happy New Year, Viktor.” I hope we both survive it. Draco downed the champagne in his hand.

He waited for the Bulgarian to make his leave before heading to his own quarters, sure that his parents wouldn't have need for him now that the festivities were drawing to a close. His eyebrows pinched together as he paced, his mind racing. He'd been stuck in Hogwarts for months, languishing uselessly while his parents played host to You-Know-Who, and Potter did Salazar knows what out there somewhere. He had gone over all the plans he could think of with Theo, and there really was only one thing he hadn't tried yet.

“Dobby.” He waited with bated breath for one heartbeat, two, three.

“Master Draco called for Dobby?”

Draco turned in shock as he heard his old house-elf speak behind him. Dropping to one knee, he grabbed the elf. “You came!”

Dobby looked up at him with mistrusting eyes. “Dobby is a free elf. Dobby comes and goes as he pleases, but Master Draco called for Dobby. Dobby...” His great big eyes welled as he looked down at the floor and back up at Draco. “Dobby remembers how Master Draco used to play with him. Dobby remembers how kind Master Draco used to be, before he grew up.”

Draco's eyes shone as he shook his head. “Dobby, I'm-I'm sorry. I was wrong to be cruel to you. I really am, so sorry.”

Dobby teared up as he gently patted Draco's hand. “It's all in the past now, Master Draco. Dobby came because Dobby thinks Master Draco is good, and will be helpful to Harry Potter.”

Draco let out a half-laugh half-sob as he nodded. “I can't do much, Dobby. But, if you'll let me, will you take one more order from your old master?”

“It depends.” Dobby said warily. “What is the order?”

Draco lifted his gaze and looked seriously at Dobby. “Protect Hermione Granger.”

Dobby's expression changed to confusion. “Sir?”

“You-Know-Who comes to the Manor, and it's possible that Harry Potter and his friends will end up brought here. If-if things go wrong, protect Hermione Granger. Please, Dobby. I can't, or he'll kill my parents, and my friends.”

“Are you not friends with Miss Granger, sir?”

“I am, but-”

“Then you should protect her, Master Draco.” Dobby took Draco's hand firmly in his. “We must all choose a side, Master Draco. Dobby has seen that your heart is good, ever since you were a baby. Don't choose the wrong side, sir.”

Draco smiled and he carefully pulled his hand out of Dobby's grasp. “I will do my best, Dobby. Just, please?”

Dobby nodded, his ears flapping. “I will protect Harry Potter and his friends.”

“They're in the Forest of Dean!” Phineas Black's portrait tripped over his robes in his haste to return to the Headmaster's frame. Severus froze mid-conversation with Poppy, and they both turned to the deceased Headmaster.

“Forest of Dean? Who's in the Forest of Dean, Severus?” Poppy asked, and he shot a glare at the sheepish portrait.

“It's nothing, Poppy.” He tried to smoothly transition out of the conversation, but there was no use.

“Severus Snape, are you keeping secrets?” She demanded, and he rolled his eyes. He set down his cup of tea and stood up.

“Poppy Pomfrey, yes I am. Would you excuse me? I need to confer with the portraits.” He waited for her to leave before turned back to the frames. He looked over to see Albus opening his eyes after a nap.

“Headmaster Black, you said they're in the Forest of Dean? How do you know?”

“The Muggle-born girl, Granger was it? She said it while they were packing their supplies.” Black announced and Severus turned to look at Albus again.

“They haven't found another way to get rid of the Horcux, and they are running out of time.” Severus was stating the obvious.

“They need help.” Albus agreed.

\Swiftly, Severus took out his wand, Disillusioning himself. He would need to bring the sword to them. He Disapparated quickly, landing on the edge of the Forest. As he scanned the sparse trees, all he saw was a blanket of white. He dipped his chin down to fight the wind as he looked for any unnatural movement. It was freezing out here. He shivered as he walked further, his footsteps leaving no trace. Warming charms were only temporary, and he would need to search for much longer than they were useful for.

“Expecto Patronum.”

He cast his doe patronus and let it stay near him to keep his warmth. His fingers reached out every now and then to brush over the mist's ears. After nearly an hour of searching, Severus felt the pull to return to Hogwarts. He would continue his search soon, and hope that he found them. He Disapparated and let his patronus fade, but not before a certain bushy-haired girl poked her head out of a hidden tent.

“Was that...?” Hermione looked toward the spot where she could have sworn she'd seen a patronus. It had faded too fast for her to recognize. For a wild moment she wondered if Draco had sent one to her. Just as quickly, she shook her head and pulled herself back into the warmth of the tent. She looked over at Harry and sighed as she sat back down in her bed. It had been months, Draco wouldn't come. He had said his goodbyes last year. She shook her head again to clear the thoughts and rubbed her eyes. She missed Ronald.

“Hermione! Hermione, where are you?” Harry's voice called out, strained but with a hint of excitement. Hermione quickly stood up and stuck her hand out of the tent, pulling him in.

“Harry, where have you been? I was so worried-Ron?!” She fixed on the redhead following Harry.

“He saved me, Hermione.”

“What?” Hermione asked, nonplussed. She listened with growing anger as Harry recounted the story of how he followed a doe patronus to the Sword of Gryffindor, leading to his near-death, followed by Ron's heroic save. She fixed Ron with a hard look as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“You think this makes things alright between us, do you?”

“No, of course not. I only just destroyed a Horcrux and saved Harry, but no, why would that make things alright?” Ron scoffed, and Hermione scowled.

“It's not that you saved him, Ronald. I'm grateful that you did, don't get me wrong. But why did you need to leave in the first place? Do you know what we've been through since you left us? Harry had to face You-Know-Who's snake at Godric's Hollow! And-and-” She began to sputter as her mind went wild.

Ron turned to Harry with wide eyes. “Blimey, Harry. How did you do that?”

“Never mind how he did it, the point is that you weren't there! No, Harry let me finish. You leave, that's who you are. You don't trust us the way we trust you.” Hermione fought in Harry's arms as he tried to make her calm down.

“Don't trust you? Don't trust you?! I travelled the bloody country with the two of you, how can you say I don't trust you?” Ron's cried out.

“Because you don't! You didn't believe me when I told you Crookshanks didn't eat your bloody rat that turned into Peter Pettigrew, you didn't believe Harry when he said he didn't put his name in the Triwizard Tournament goblet, and you didn't believe in us when we were doing our best! You, you just- you leave! Always!” Hermione's voice had grown shrill as she let all her frustration pour out.

She tore out of the tent with hot tears dripping from her chin, leaving the boys alone in silence.

“Well, shit.” Harry murmured.

Draco shrank in terror as Bellatrix skipped into the drawing room after a particularly loud torture session with Luna Lovegood in the Manor dungeons.

“Can't you silence her, Bella?” Narcissa scowled, her hand on her temple. “The screaming is giving me a headache.”

“Take a potion then, sister.” Bellatrix trilled. “I like hearing the screams.”

“You could at least cast a Muffliato.” Draco muttered under his breath.

Bellatrix turned to him with a manic laugh. “Ooh, Muffliato! Itty bitty Draco knows his spells! Maybe Hogwarts isn't so useless after all, now that Sevvy is headmaster.” A loud kerfuffle drew their attention as Snatchers tumbled into the room, dragging 3 people. Draco began to shrink back into the shadows to run out of the room as Bellatrix demanded to know why they were there.

“Wait, what's that?” Bellatrix demanded, tugging on the middle one's hair. Draco couldn't see anything and was about to step away when she gasped. “Harry Potter. That's Harry Potter! Look, the scar!” Draco's blood ran cold as he froze in place. The moment he'd been dreading for nearly two years was upon them.

“Draco, come here! Come look. You were classmates. That's him, right?”

Draco found himself being dragged back into the centre of the room, and he turned away in fear of what he would see. His face was wrenched forward and a boy was thrust in front of him. A moment of relief washed over him as he looked upon a face he didn't recognize, if only because it was too bruised and swollen from being hexed.

“It's him, right Draco? Harry Potter?” Bellatrix hissed, and his gaze slid to meet his mother's terrified ones.

“I...I don't know! What's wrong with him?” Draco stuttered, and he watched the boy's eyes widen. Slowly, they turned from a dull brown to green, and a stone sank into his stomach. It was Potter.

“Yes, what is wrong with him? Why's he all roughed up?” Bellatrix demanded, asking the cowering Snatchers. She focused in on the Sword of Gryffindor, and she stilled.

“What is that? How do you have it?!” She grabbed the sword out of the Snatcher's hands.

“Malfoy?” Draco's attention snapped back to Harry, who was slowly transforming back to himself. He watched in horror and turned  to look at the other two. Sure enough, there she was. His eyes slid down her body, and he clenched his fists. She was nothing but skin and bones. How was she alive, looking as lifeless as she was?

Hermione focused on Draco and tears welled up as she bit back a sob. He was in a black suit but his face was gaunt and tight. Nothing was left of the boy she loved. She drew in a breath as she watched Harry slowly morph back, knowing she would be turning back to herself as well.

“You. Girl. How do you have the sword?” Bellatrix's voice was low and dangerous, striking fear in everyone. When Hermione didn't respond, the woman grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to the wall, slamming her against it. “ANSWER ME!”

“I-I don't know! We found it!”

“Liar!” Bellatrix's hot breath wafted over her and dread settled in her veins.

“Let her go!” Ron charged at Bellatrix only to be tripped and bound by a gaffawing Snatcher.

“Draco, is that Harry Potter?” Narcissa asked hurriedly. She crouched down by her son, speaking quietly and urgently. “Darling, if it is, if you're sure, we can call him. Draco, darling, look. Is this him? Bring him closer, into the light so Draco can see.”

Draco looked between his mother and Harry, and Dobby's voice echoed in his head. Don't pick the wrong side, Master Draco. Swallowing his fear, he shook his head. “I don't know.”

Harry's eyes lit up in recognition of the blatant lie, and the boys shared a look.

“TELL ME!” Bellatrix screamed over Hermione's cries, and both boys turned to the struggling women.

“Draco?” Narcissa looked down her son, realizing the side he was choosing. She pulled herself up and pointed the wand at Harry.

“Oi! Leave him alone!” Ron's scream rang out and he wrestled himself out of the Snatcher's grasp, stunning him before running to Harry's aid. They stood one to one against the Malfoys, Ron against Narcissa while Draco's trembling wand pointed at Harry's.

“Ron, fake it.” Harry muttered from the corner of his mouth, and Ron shot him a look.

“What?”

“Do what you're told, Mr. Weasley.” Narcissa said imperiously.

Flashes of wordless curses, much milder than was effective, flew out of both sets of wands. Draco shot stinging hex after jelly-leg hex while Harry countered. Narcissa let loose torrents of quick but harmless curses at Ron, who easily avoided them with his shields.

“Enough!” Bellatrix shrieked. “Cissy, Draco, finish it and bring them to the dungeon. Everyone out. It's time for me and her to talk. Girl to girl.”

The Malfoys moved as one and quickly disarmed Harry and Ron who cried out in surprise and indignation. Draco threw one last look at Hermione, his heart breaking in fear as he watched her dragging on the floor in Bellatrix's hold.

“Malfoy, what are you doing? She'll kill her!” Ron yelled, and Draco quickly silenced him.

“Quiet. Just make sure to get out of here. Understand?” He levelled a stare at Harry, who looked at him with confusion.

“How? Your Manor is warded against apparition, I tried.”

“Not everyone is limited, Potter.” Draco said meaningfully. Harry furrowed his eyebrows but there was no time. He'd need to figure it out on his own. He slammed the dungeon door closed and hurried upstairs, his ears ringing from Hermione's screams.

Climbing back up the stairs, he stared at the scene before him. Bellatrix crouched over Hermione's body as she laid on the floor sobbing, her limbs splayed out.

“You're a liar, aren't you? You stole from me, from my vault in Gringotts. How did you do it? Tell me, girl, and I'll end your suffering.” Bellatrix hissed as she jabbed her curved wand into Hermione's neck.

“N-no, I didn't! Please, I promise I didn't!”

“You're a filthy lying Mudblood!” Bellatrix bellowed, and Draco shrank back. The movement must have alerted her to his presence because she tipped her head back and laughed as she pointed at him. “Should I let him have a turn at you? Let him get his cock wet in your quim and arse? Maybe we'll pass you around at the next Debauching. Leave you used and broken and then send you back to the Order.

“Stop it, I didn't do anything!” Hermione quaked in fear, but it only made Bellatrix smile wider.

“You know, we sent Death Eaters to your door. We were looking for you, and were so disappointed when we didn't find you or your parents home. How lovely that we have you now. Never fear, I'm sure we'll find your parents soon enough. You'll be reunited soon. For a little while, at least.”

Fresh tears sprung from Hermione's eyes and she turned her face away, trying to occlude as best as she could.

“Ah, smart girl! Occluding?” Bellatrix pulled Hermione's face back to hers, resting her forehead against the girl's. “I know the trick to break down those walls.” She flashed a vicious smile and pulled out her cursed knife.

“No!” Draco couldn't stop himself, stepping out with his hand outstretched. Narcissa grabbed him from behind and held him as he struggled.

“Quiet!” Bellatrix snarled. She turned her attention to the girl under her and pushed the sleeve off her arm. “Now, I'm going to ask you again. For each time you fail to answer me, I'm going carve a new letter into your arm. I wonder how many letters I'll get to write before you give up?”

“Please, no! HELP ME!” Hermione shrieked and Draco closed his eyes, his hands shaking. He could hear his mother whispering in his ears but all he could hear was the sound of her screams over and over. It was too much, it was too much.

“Where did you get the sword?”

“We found it!”

“Liar.”

Hermione's piercing cries sank into Draco's mind despite his occluding and he let loose a flood of tears.

“Steady, Draco.” Narcissa tried to soothe her son, but he wasn't listening. Both of them missed the popping sound of apparition as Bellatrix continued her methodical torture. As the fifth line of questioning failed, Draco finally managed to pull away from his mother.

“Enough! It's enough!” He sobbed as he collapsed onto the marble in front of Hermione. They sought each other out and he saw his tears fall onto her cheeks. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.

“Cissy, take him! He's too weak, like his father.” Bellatrix shoved him away, but it was done. Hermione's eyes were clearing as if he'd injected her with adrenaline.

He felt himself being dragged away again but he pulled away. He shook like a leaf in the wind as he slowly raised his wand up to his aunt. “I said, enough.”

“Draco, don't.” Narcissa's voice held a strain of fear as she tried to caution him. He didn't stand a chance against her sister, and everyone knew it.

Bellatrix stood up and prowled towards her nephew, sharp teeth glinting. “Tiny Draco wants to play?” Faster than a viper, she grabbed hold of his wand and threw it over his shoulder. Instinctively, he turned to grab it, wincing inwardly as he realized his mistake. He tried to avoid it, but his jaw still cracked as Bellatrix's fist smashed into his face. “You're 20 years too young to play with me, boy!”

Hermione watched with hazy eyes as Draco tried to stand up for her. She wanted to feel something, anything, but all she could feel was the stinging pain of the cuts Bellatrix had made on her arm. She couldn't move, she couldn't even get up, thanks to Bellatrix's sticking charms. Giving up, she turned her head, eyes widening as she saw Harry and Ron creep up from the stairs they'd gone down before.

A faint squeaking came from somewhere in the room, halting everyone's movements as they tried to locate the irritating noise. Hermione felt her body unstick and she had a second to roll to her feet just in time for the chandelier to fall directly over where Bellatrix was. She watched in fascinated horror as Bellatrix scrambled out of the way.

“Filthy house-elf! You could have killed me!”

“Malfoy, I need a wand!” Harry's voice was urgent, and Draco looked back wildly. Green met silver and Draco was about to give it to him when he saw Bellatrix pointing her wand at Harry from the corner of his vision. Immediately, he raised his wand at Harry, feigning a glare. Harry's eyes went wide and he immediately went to grab it from Draco. They wrestled to the floor with it between them, as Draco watched Dobby distract his aunt. A brief moment of hesitation came before he finally let his wand go with a soft grunt.

“Get her out of here, Potter.” He muttered, and Harry nodded.

“We have a plan.” Harry ran to meet the others, scooping up Hermione in his arms. Draco watched as her blood dripped off her fingertips to the floor, and he felt himself stumble into his mother's arms. Mudblud. Bellatrix apparently couldn't spell properly, despite her expert parentage.

“No! Call him, call him now!” Bellatrix was screaming, her fingers drawing up her Mark to call the Dark Lord to the Manor. They all watched as she threw her cursed knife at Dobby just as he snapped his fingers, and for a moment no one breathed. Another heartbeat later, and Bellatrix's distraught screams were all that could be heard in the Manor.

The cursed knife had missed its mark.

“You deserved someone who was brave even before the end.” He looked down at her arm and reached down to run his fingers over her scars. Though glamoured, they were still raised on her arm.

“Hermione, I-”

“You know, the only thing I hate about that scar is that she couldn't even spell the slur properly.” Hermione grinned, earning her a snort from her husband.

“I'm glad that's your only complaint.” Draco chuckled as he pulled her arm up. Gently, he kissed each letter tenderly, knowing just by memory where they were. Seven kisses.

“She tortured you seven times, and seven times, you held strong.” Grey eyes met brown as he kissed the final letter.

“If you recall, I had help at the end getting my strength back.” She cupped his face and leaned in to kiss him. “I was close to losing my mind. You saved my sanity.”

“I couldn't watch anymore. I'm just sorry I couldn't stop it.” Draco whispered.

“At least she got what she deserved in the end.” Hermione mumbled, deepening the kiss. Careful of their sleeping son, Draco nuzzled his nose into her neck as he placed loving kisses against her jaw.

Chapter Text

Draco stared at the place she once stood, now empty. The cursed knife spun on the marble floor, spreading her crimson blood, and a wave of relief washed over him. Distantly, he felt his mother's grip tighten as her nails sank into his arm.

“He's coming.” Bellatrix's wails grew frenzied, and Draco turned to face his mother's terrified expression. Dobby had saved her, but now he'd doomed his mother.

“Run.” Draco pleaded with her. “Apparate out, escape. We have to go.”

Narcissa sought his face, and she shook her head. “There is nowhere to go. Where would we be safe? And your father...” Draco grimaced at the reminder. His father was shackled to the walls in the Manor, unable to leave without the Dark Lord's express permission. They couldn't leave him, his mother would never agree. His mind searched for another answer, another way out.

“He's coming. He's coming. He's here!” Bellatrix hissed as the very air within the Manor froze. Voldemort floated through the walls, black smoke materializing.

“Where is he?!”

They cowered in fear in his wake, eyes avoiding his as he swooped towards them. Draco felt faint as he watched Aunt Bella writhe in pain as Voldemort shot curse after curse at her until she was nothing more than a puddle of piss and sweat mingled in Hermione's blood. At least Hermione survived.

“Hermione, Hermione! Shit, she's shaking too much. She's lost so much blood. I don't know what to do, what do we do?” Someone was shouting too loud. Hermione frowned, her eyes still too heavy to open.

“Let her go, 'arry. Let me look.” A softer, more feminine voice took over, and she felt herself being passed. She tried to wake up, but her mind had other thoughts and before long, she was drifting away.

“'Mione, you need to wake up.” Hermione's lips twitched at the familiar nickname. Ronald. Was he crying? I'm right here, Ronald. She wanted to reach out, to touch him. Her mind fought to regain its footing but it was still too weak. She fell back asleep.

“Dobby is sorry he took so long, Miss Granger. Dobby tried to fulfill his promise.” Promise? What promise? To whom? She wanted to ask, but her mind drifted away to the next dreamless sleep.

“It's too soon to tell. I've never seen anything like it. The bleeding keeps breaking through the sealed skin.” An unfamiliar tenor murmured next to her. Her arm was raised in hands, an oily salve being spread to soothe the ache in her burning arm. She sighed and relaxed into the soft bed.

Is she alright? Are they safe? Draco considered calling out to Dobby again to ask, but it was too risky. The Dark-no, Tom Riddle. I refuse to call him the Dark Lord anymore, he thought with derision. Tom was losing his threads of sanity. He had raised wards so constricting that they just fuelled his paranoia. There would be no opportunity for stealth under his or Bellatrix's watch. He had to get word out, but it would need to wait until he was back in Hogwarts.

Severus fought to keep his face impassive as he looked down at the paper in front of him. The first week back from break and he had to deal with this already.

“Refusal to perform coursework, refusal to attend classes, and blatant disregard for authority. Do you have anything to say for yourselves?”

“We won't perform the Cruciatus curse on first years.” Neville folded his arms over his chest.

“Is that so?” Severus gave him a deadpan look that the boy fought not to avoid. Leaning forward, the headmaster peered at the students in front of him. Lavender Brown, Neville Longbottom, Theodore Nott, and Pansy Parkinson. An odd mixture, but that was neither here nor there.

“Fine. You will all serve detention with Professor Hagrid for a week. If you continue to refuse, you will serve detention until you change your minds.” He watched them file out of the office and sighed.

“Don't start with me, Albus.” He snarked, not needing to look to know that the portrait's eyes were twinkling with amusement.

Neville threw a look back at Snape, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Well, that was less painful than expected.” Lavender skipped down the steps.

“Yeah...don't you think it's a bit too easy?” Neville asked. “Isn't it strange that he's letting us go with a slap on the wrist?”

“Don't look a gift-Abraxan in the mouth, Longbottom.” Theo drawled as he shoved his hands in his pockets with an air of indifference. His eyes met Pansy's and they mirrored each other's smile.

Tap tap tap

Draco looked up from his textbook, a ruse to allow him to occlude and drift into his own mind in peace. An owl tapped against the window pane as it tried to stick out its foot for Draco to see. He frowned as he tried to decipher the unfamiliar scrawl before realizing it had his name on it. Hurriedly, he opened the window to let the bird in. He watched as it flew to his desk in the library and shook the letter off its leg before flying away.

'Draco,

Team training is tiring but rewarding, I'm sure you remember. Soon, we will have a strategy and strength to fight against our opponents. May warm winds from the east and unusual allies guide us home.

Viktor'

Draco smirked, stifling the urge to roll his eyes. Viktor was trying to be poetic and stealthy, but it would have been obvious to any third-year Slytherin. “Team training” was code for recruitment, “strategy and strength” were obvious and, warm winds from the east? Draco drifted his eyes up to see part of a world map pinned on the adjacent wall. He stood up and walk towards it, looking it over. Bulgaria was east from England, that must be it. Unusual allies, though, was a mystery. Draco grimaced as he recalled the types of “allies” Riddle was stockpiling. Giants, werewolves, vampires. He hoped the Bulgarian Seeker wasn't planning on bringing any creatures over here.

“Blimey, 'Mione, you've gone mental. How the hell are we going to get out of here now?” Ron cried out as they ducked behind a pillar, the bank's chained dragon hurling fireballs at the spaces between them.

“I have an idea, but it's mad!” Hermione shrieked and covered her head as another blast ricocheted past her arm, singing the ends of her hair.

“Crazier than this?” Harry asked skeptically, shooting a stunning curse at the beast. It roared and hit the pillar with a white-hot tunnel of fire as Ron pulled Harry out of the way just in time.

“Trust me?” Hermione asked desperately, and the boys looked at each other, swallowing hard.

“Always.” Harry nodded, determined.

“Y-You know I do.” Ron stammered, his face showing his fear, but he kept his eyes steady on hers.

She flashed them a quick smile and whipped around to run straight to the dragon, jumping on its back. Turning back to them, she pushed her frizz out of her face with a grin. “Well? Are you coming or not?”

Harry walked briskly after Neville through the narrow tunnel behind Dumbledore's sister's painting in Hog's Head.

“So, tell us what's been happening? We haven't been able to catch a frequency in weeks.” Ron asked breathlessly.

“Hogwart's gone to shit. The Carrows are trying to rule with an iron fist-” Neville pointed to his face. “-but it's not all bad. We have some allies with us.”

“How's Snape?” Harry scowled, and Neville shrugged.

“Honestly? I don't know, Harry. He's been soft. He doesn't punish much, and when he does, it's like he's lost his spark. He sent us to Hagrid's for detention, if you can believe that.”

The trio exchanged a look of disbelief as they trudged on.

“How are the others? Have you heard from anyone?” Hermione stumbled on a stone as she hurried to catch up.

Neville grinned. “Yeah, they're good. Loads of stories to tell, I'm sure they'll want to tell you everything. Here we are.” He bent down and groped for the handle of the door. “Oi, look what I brought back for your lot.”

“Better not be any more of Aberforth's cooking. I don't think I'm quite well after his last pie.” Seamus spoke up, soft mumbles of agreement echoing. The trio ducked their head as they entered the makeshift quarters, blinking at the brightness.

“Harry!”

Gasps of shock rippled through the crowd. Ginny launched herself at Ron, hugging him tightly with one had as she pulled Harry and Hermione in with her other. They hugged tightly before letting go. Hermione surveyed the room as Harry explained what he needed to find. Her eyes lit up with joy at the sight of Luna, unharmed and as dreamy as always.

“So, then we need to go to the Ravenclaw tower-” Harry started to say, but was diverted when a student ran into the room panting.

“He knows. Snape knows you're back.” The room stilled, and Harry's face turned cold.

“Let's go.”

“Right, Ernie, Cho, you tell your houses that he's back and to prepare to fight. Someone needs to tell the Slytherins-” Neville took charge, relaying orders to the students.

“I'll do it.” Ginny stepped up, and he nodded. Quickly and quietly, the students dispersed, the Room of Requirement depositing them into different spots in the castle as they ran to make preparations.

---

Draco heard the sudden running of footsteps and turned just in time to see several Hufflepuff students running. Strange. He continued along his path towards the common room when he heard the whispers.

“He's back, did you hear? Harry Potter is back.” He looked up to see the portraits whispering to each other. His fists clenched as he quickened his pace. There was only one reason to return to Hogwarts. Breaking out into a run, he swerved past students until he reached the common room, panting.

“Draco?” Pansy sat upright, taking in his dishevelled appearance. “What's happened?”

His eyes scanned the room before speaking. “They're back in Hogwarts.”

Pansy's expression changed to determination and she stood up, taking out her wand. “Is it time?” She was acutely aware of Theo and Blaise moving to do the same.

Draco nodded. “It's time to make a decision.” He reached into his pocket and palmed the magicked Galleon. Her magic was strong.

“Earlier today, Harry Potter was seen at Hogsmeade. It is believed that he was on his way into Hogwarts. If there is any student who is harbouring or who has information about the whereabouts of Harry Potter, they shall be punished severely. If you know anything, speak out. Now.”

Severus hated the words coming out of his mouth, but the plan was firmly in place. His heart hammered in his chest as he scanned the Great Hall.

“How dare you?” Harry stepped out of the ranks of students and pointed his wand at Snape. “How dare you stand where he stood? Tell them. Tell them how you killed him. A man who trusted you! Tell them!”

Severus contemplated the boy in front of him. Where before all he'd seen was James, now he was all Lily. Unwillingly, he raised his wand at her son, swallowing the bile threatening to escape from his gullet. Behind, he heard the Carrows begin to snicker, their own wands pulled out. A flicker of emotion escaped his eyes as he saw Minerva, his old teacher, stand in front of Potter to defend him.

“Severus, don't. Please don't make me do this.” Minerva implored even as she kept her wand steady. Neither moved for a moment before she accidentally cast the first spell, a fiery rocket flying to Severus Snape. He easily manoeuvred it out of his way and let it strike the Carrows before he whisked himself out of the Hall, grabbing both of their wands and smashing one of the glass windows as he flew out, cloak billowing in the wind. He had to make preparations. The time was near.

The students' roars of joy quickly quelled as Voldemort's voice entered each of their minds. “Bring me Harry Potter, and no one will die. Bring me Harry Potter, and your lives will be spared. You have one hour.”

No one moved for a moment before Millicent Bulstrode stepped forward and pointed at him. “Well? Someone get him!”

“Oh no you don't!” Ron stood in front of Harry, his face seething with rage. Several students, including Hermione, stood next to him, shielding Harry. Pansy shot Theo a glance and he smirked. He was about to step forward when Millicent shot a hex at Ron.

“Protego!” Ron's voice was harmonized with Pansy as she stepped in front to shield him.

“Pansy?”

“Shut it, Weasley.” Pansy grinned at him before turning back to face her house. Her eyes scanned every single student, her expression hard. “We decide what our legacy is. We are Slytherins. We bow to no one, not even him. Who's with me?”

The remaining staff stared at each other in surprise as slowly, they watched Slytherins join the group defending Harry Potter. Harry craned his head just in time to see Theo and Draco away from the group not picking a side. He frowned as his eyes lingered on Theo, a cruel twist in his heart making him ache, but there was no time. He hastily clapped Ron on the shoulder. “We have to split up! You and-and, Parkinson, I guess, you two and Hermione go down to the Chamber of Secrets to grab the fangs. Send a Patronus if you need help.” He ran towards the Ravenclaw tower before being diverted to the Room of Requirement.

Ron cupped Pansy's face with a calloused hand, his lips trembling. “I thought...I thought I'd lost you.”

“You're an idiot, you know that?” Pansy's tone was harsh even as her eyes welled up. “As if you could lose me that easily.” They threw themselves at each other in a tight hug, whispering apologies and reassurances before they split up.

Ron took her hand with a bright smile. “Shall we? We need to find something. I can tell you about how I destroyed a horcrux a while ago.” His smile faded off his face as he felt her pull her hand away.

“I'm not going with you.”

“What?”

“You go with Granger, I'm staying here.” Pansy shuttered her face and gripped her wand tightly.

“But-but you can't! You'll die!”

“Ronald, come on, we need to go.” Hermione was tugging at his sleeve but he ripped his arm away, never taking his eyes off Pansy.

“Ron, you have something you need to do, and so do I.” Pansy took in a sharp breath and jutted out her chin. “I need to face my demons too.”

“Ronald, come on!” Hermione pulled him harder, and he finally let himself get pulled away. He threw one last fleeting look over his shoulder just in time to watch Pansy wipe away a tear from her cheek. Survive. You have to live.

“What about you?” Ron asked, finally turning back to Hermione. “Aren't you worried about Draco?”

She let her fingers drop Ron's wrist and they ran through the castle in silence. “I can't focus on that now. We're almost there, Ronald. We're so close. Once this is over, if-when we survive, I'll worry about that then.”

Ron stole a glance at Hermione, taking her in for the first time. Her jaw was set but her eyes were muddy with pain. Her cheekbones were too pronounced, she looked like a ghost come back to life. He linked his fingers with hers and squeezed gently. “When we survive.”

Hermione gave him a watery smile and nodded as they ran into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

Harry opened his eyes as he finished pacing outside the Room of Requirement, grimly setting his shoulders as he opened the doors. He let his mind draw blank as he took in the vast expanse of the sentient room. Where are you? Slowly, he walked through the maze of objects, his eyes temporarily alighting on odds and ends left by former students. The faint buzzing that he now associated with the horcruxes began to form in his mind and he let it guide him towards the diadem until he finally stood in front of an unassuming jewellery box. He swallowed as he opened it. There it was, laying on a bed of velvet as if it were a sphinx cat.

“Hold it right there, Potter.” Draco's cold drawl made Harry freeze. He didn't need to look over his shoulder to know he had at least one wand pointed at him. Sure enough, he turned to find the blond sandwiched between Crabbe and Zabini, all three pointing wands at him.

“Malfoy.” Harry fought to keep his composure. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Draco looked down at the thing in Potter's hand. What was it? His mind raced as he fought the urge to run far, far away. “Where's Granger?” Draco forced the name out, attempting to make it sound casual.

“I'm right here, Malfoy.” Hermione's wand came into view and he turned to look at her, Weasley flanking her with another wand held up. They were soaked to the core.

“Weasley.” Blaise said smoothly.

Ron frowned as his eyes darted to take in the scene. “Malfoy, what're you lot doing here?”

Draco nodded over to Potter. “That thing in your hands. What is it?”

“I need to destroy it, to kill him.” Harry didn't have time to explain everything, and he desperately prayed that this would be enough for the Malfoy heir.

“Destroying that thing will kill him? What do I look like, an idiot?” Draco scoffed.

“Well, if you ask me-” Ron began to mutter, stopping only when Hermione shot him a venomous look.

“It is a piece of him, I have to kill it to be able to kill him.” Harry felt his scar burning hotter and he winced, nearly dropping the diadem.

Crabbe stepped closer to Draco and hissed. “Do it, Draco. Take it from Potter and give it to You-Know-Who. Kill Potter and give the crown back to the Dark Lord.”

The Gryffindor trio watched with bated breath as Draco hesitated. Almost as if he knew exactly what to say, Crabbe leaned in again. “You want your mother alive, don't you?” His grin sent shivers down Hermione's back as she looked between them. There was something seriously wrong with that boy.

“Malfoy, don't listen to him-” Ron stepped forward, trying to intervene, but was quickly pushed back by Blaise as he jabbed his wand under the red-head's chin.

“Back up, Weasley. Malfoy, what's the plan?” Blaise looked over at Draco, who was visibly hardening.

“Give me the crown, Potter.”

Hermione's heart sank as she heard his words. She sent a panicked look to Harry but there was no other option. In one fluid motion, all three Gryffindors raised their wands and shot curses at the Slytherins, engaging them in duels.

“Fight! Fight back, Malfoy!” Harry echoed the words he'd yelled last year as he shot a hex at him. From the corner of his eye, he could see Blaise easily overtaking Ron while Hermione was soon going to beat Crabbe-

“No!” Hermione cried out as she recognized the wandwork for Fiendfyre. She barely cast a shield strong enough as a burst of uncontrolled flames whizzed over her, and she dropped to the floor.

“Come on, Malfoy! Let's get out of here!” Crabbe shot another flame at Harry, still unable to control it fully. Distracting him, the fool grabbed Draco by the scruff and motioned for Blaise to hurry up as they ran toward the exit.

“Hey! That's my best friend you shot at, you git!” Ron's indignant voice rang out and Hermione rose from the floor with a wry grin.

“I thought I was your best friend!” Harry shouted out with a smirk. Seconds later, neither were smiling as Ron's scream preceded him barrelling toward them in a mad dash for another way out.

“Run! Crabbe's gone and set the place on fire!” He grabbed Hermione's hand and tugged her toward the exit, Harry only following when he saw the glow of the monstrous flame that Crabbe had unleashed. They weaved in and around piles of stuff until they were thoroughly lost in the room.

“Shit! What do we do now?” Ron asked in a terrified voice.

“There!” Harry pointed to a set of brooms. They flew up and surveyed the damage quickly before-

“That way!” Hermione gripped the broom tightly and forced her stomach to stay in place as they hovered above the flames. The air was stifling, and she was starting to have trouble breathing. Her eyes scanned the flames looking for any sign of life. Had Draco gotten out? She swallowed hard, praying that he had. She was about to turn away when she saw three specks of black moving in and out of the flames. She squinted for a moment.

“Harry! Is that-?” Hermione asked, pointing down. Harry looked down and nodded grimly. “We have to save them!”

“What? 'Mione, no!” Ron yelled exasperatedly. He rolled his eyes and followed as the other two dived down. “If we die, Hermione, I'm going to kill you!”

Harry reached the group first, going for Draco. “Take my hand!”

Draco's face screwed up in concentration as he fought to keep his hold on the wooden cabinet he had climbed up on. His sweat stung his eyes as he tried to find Harry's hand, but he couldn't get a grip. Wildly, he wondered if this would be the end for him.

“No!” The two of them turned to watch Crabbe fighting to pull Hermione off her broom.

“Get off, mudblood! I'll never be on the same broom as you.” The fool snarled.

Draco turned to Harry with a hard look on his face. “Potter. You make sure she lives, alright? Go!” He slapped Harry's hand away, watching as the boy understood and sped to Hermione's rescue.

“Crabbe, stop!” Harry yelled as he pointed Draco's wand at him.

Crabbe scowled and reared back. “Oh yeah? I'll take care of you-” His face went blank as his fumbling fingers slipped off of their grip and he began the slow fall into the flames. Hermione shrieked as she tried in vain to grab some part of him to save. They only had moments before the flames began to lick at their feet.

“Harry, 'Mione, what are you doing? Let's go!” Ron screamed, Blaise secure on his broom. Hermione's eyes slid over to see Draco teetering at the top of a pile engulfed in flames. Without thinking, she steered her broom to him, taking a nosedive.

“Hermione!” Harry cried out. He watched as she smoothly grabbed him by the arm and hauled him onto the broom behind her, rising up to meet the other two brooms.

“Blimey that was...” Ron started to speak.

“Incredible.” Draco finished. His hands gripped her waist tightly, and she fought her body's urge to lean into his chest. Now as not the time.

“Right. Shall we get out now?”

Everyone nodded, and Harry led them out of the room, everyone tumbling to the floor as they plunged through the shrinking door.

Hermione closed her eyes in preparation for the pain associated with collision, but all she felt was Draco's arms closing around her as they rolled off the broom together. Slowly, she blinked up at him before coming to her senses.

“The diadem! Harry!” She pulled away quickly and turned to her friend just in time to see Ron punt the crown into the Fiendfyre flames. Almost on instinct, the Gryffindors ducked, Hermione, pulling Draco down when he stayed standing. Finally, they looked up to see nothing more than a castle wall, unblemished in any way. He turned to her, swallowing hard.

“Granger, I...” What could he say? There were no words that could ever convey how desperately he wished he could just choose her.

Hermione searched his face for something unknown even to her. “Malfoy...” She watched his face drop at the use of his last name, and she reached up to hesitantly touch his face. “We promised we'd fight, right?”

A crowd of students rounded the corner in a panic, separating the group as they rushed past. Seconds later, the Gryffindors were staring at an empty hall. The two remaining Slytherins were gone. Hermione swallowed hard and clenched her fist. He'd promised they would fight together. That had to still be true.

She thought of what Crabbe had said in the Room. If she had something that could save her parents from torture, no. It was unthinkable. She could never do that, risk the world for her parents. Could he?

“Harry! Harry, what happened?” Hermione turned to see Ron crouched down in front of him as he stared blankly into space.

“I know where to go next.” Harry panted.

Draco and Blaise ran through the castle, expertly sweeping through throngs of terrified students. Barely a word was spoken between the two as they ran to the Great Hall. Bursting through, they searched and immediately found Theo and Pansy, both directing their House into place as McGonagall, Sprout Flitwick gave their own instructions.

“You two are leading the way? We're all doomed.” Blaise smirked as Pansy shot him an irritated look.

“Not now, Zabini. Where have you two been, anyway?” She asked, pausing in her instructions. She watched the boys look at each other.

“I had to try and protect my mother.” Draco avoided Pansy's discerning gaze. A heartbeat passed before she huffed.

“Of course you did.” She flicked her shoulder-length hair out of her face. “Did it work?”

Draco shook his head. If that crown had really had a piece of Riddle in it, he could have saved his whole family from unimaginable pain. Now, he was back to square one.

“Well, we'll find another way. Right now, we need you over by the Forbidden Forest. We expect Dementors to come from that way, and not many can produce a patronus as strong as you, Draco.” Theo spoke with his back turned to the lot of them. They didn't need to see his face to know he was frantic with worry.

“Potter got out. He's with Weasley and Granger, you know he's in good hands.” Draco muttered as he passed the brunet. He watched him dip his chin in recognition before they turned away from each other.

Overlapping voices reverberated through the hall as the doorway was suddenly filled with brilliantly-coloured witches and wizards carrying brooms.

“Someone call for reinforcements?”

“Oh my Merlin, that's Oliver Wood.” Pansy's awed gasp did not go unnoticed as the boys shot her curious looks. Rolling her eyes, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh shut up.”

“Ollie, is that you?” An unfamiliar red-head came over and ruffled Wood's head. “You grew up!”

“Ollie?!” Pansy scowled as she watched them.

“Wood, good to see you. I see you got my message.”

Draco's eyes widened as he saw Viktor step up and clasp Wood's arm, both of them smiling. “You.”

Viktor turned and looked over at Draco, tipping his head in acknowledgement. “Draco.”

They strode to meet each other in the middle, hands gripping the other tightly. Draco stared up at the Bulgarian, not quite believing his eyes. “You did all this? All of these reinforcements?”

Viktor shook his head. “Not just me, the Order helped. I just, how you say, pulled some thread.”

Draco let out a surprised laugh. “String. You pulled some strings.”

Viktor shoo his head as he massaged his neck, perplexed. “You English have strange sayings.”

“Oi, don't tell me we're late for the party?” A boisterous laugh lashed through the hall as the Holyhead Harpies filed into the room.

“Now this is crazy.” Theo breathed out as the Slytherins watched the Quidditch teams mingle.

Viktor extracted himself from the group and walked back to Draco, a serious look on his face. “We can speak?”

Draco nodded, his adrenaline spiking.

“Have you seen her? Since we last spoke.” Viktor let all pretenses fall as they stared at each other.

Draco nodded stiffly. “She's fine. She has a task to complete, but she's with Potter and Weasley.” He refused to tell Viktor about the torture in the Manor.

“And why are you not with her?” Viktor's eyes drilled into his but he refused to look away.

“We said we would fight our way. She is fighting her way, I will fight mine.” Draco said stubbornly.

Viktor stepped forward, leaning in closer. “And when this is over? What happens after?”

Draco finally looked away. “I'll give her whatever she wants.” She won't want me anymore.

The Gryffindor trio ran down the castle stairs, hurling themselves at walls to avoid stray spells. Their heads turned as strange snarling echoed nearby, and they ran towards the sound with dread in their veins.

“No!” Hermione gasped and covered her mouth at the sight of Lavender Brown dead on the floor with a figure hunched over her.

“Get away from her!” Ron yelled as he shot a stunning curse at the figure. The creature barely shook as the spell did no damage, but certainly got his attention. The three shrank back in fear as they watched Fenrir Greyback rise to his feet. Glancing back down, they saw an oozing cavity where Lavender's ribs used to be. Harry bit his lip to fight off the nausea as he recognized jagged white bone rising from the blood. From one side, Ron was retching his guts out in a corner. Hermione's wand was dipped low, too low.

“My, such pretty things.” Greyback slurred, his teeth gleaming ruby red in the moonlight. He prowled to them slowly as he licked flecks of blood from his lips. “You know, I prefer them younger, but beggers can't be choosers.”

“Stay back!” Hermione's wand was up again, her voice hard even as tears fell from her eyes.

“Feisty. I like that.” Greyback laughed, and Harry wondered faintly how Remus could ever be considered the same as this beast.

Ron regained his strength and stumbled to his feet, his wand held in front of him as the three of them took on Greyback. Even with the three of them fighting against one, the werewolf gave a masterclass in duelling. Lunging faster than they could blink, he swiped at Hermione, her hexes barely having any effect. Ron shouted a jinx that bounced off the creature's back legs, hitting and crumbling the wall next to them.

“Come on, little pups. Surely you can do better than that!” Greyback taunted them. Hermione shot a stinging hex at him just as Harry attempted to use Snape's old curse. Snarling, Greyback leapt toward Hermione, his blood dripping on the stone floor.

“You!” He swiped at her, making her fall.

“ Impedimenta !” Hermione screwed her eyes shut in fear as she waited for the swipe to land, but it never came. Instead, she found herself whipped away and held against a body.

“Heminny, are you okay?”

She looked up in shock. “Viktor?”

The brunet grinned down at her and helped her to her feet. “You are not hurt?”

“No, I'm fine. What are you doing here?” They whipped their wands up and shot wordless spells at the werewolf in defense as Ron and Harry battled him offensively.

“I promised I would help, yes? I brought others too. The Bulgarian team but also I spoke to your alumni Oliver Wood? He and ah, Charlie Weasley? And, ah-” Viktor dropped the conversation as Greyback got a little too close to Harry, nearly grazing his cheek.

“Charlie? Charlie came?” Ron cried out, both in joy and fear. Hermione's heart leapt in gratitude.

Feeling his disadvantage, Greyback snarled and made one last attempt before ducking behind a wall, using the swing of a giant's club to distract the group as he ran back towards the Forbidden Forest.

“Fuck, he ran off.” Ron panted, scowling. Harry's face was pale with panic as he looked between them.

“We need to go. He's coming soon.”

Hermione turned to Viktor, who simply shook his head, holding her face in his hands. “Go, my vidra. Come back safe, yes?”

“And you, my Seeker. Come find me when-I mean, if-” Hermione's voice broke as Viktor pressed a soothing kiss to her forehead.

“I will find you, Hermione. I will seek you.” They shared a soft laugh at the pun, and her heart stuttered as she heard him say her name properly. Please, please don't let this be the end.

Draco jogged toward the Forbidden Forest, his wand hand slightly shaky as he began to feel the bone-chilling cold of the Dementors.

“You there!”

He turned to see a redhead running to him, and he raised an eyebrow. “Weasley?”

“Percy Weasley, yes.” Percy panted as he stopped in front of him. The two of them looked at each other for a moment.

“Yes?” Draco prompted impatiently.

“Oh! Right. You're headed to the Forbidden Forest, aren't you?”

“What's it to you?”

“I'm going that way myself. Let's go.” Percy turned as if to lead the way, giving Draco severe deja vu.

“Percy Weasley...didn't you used to be a Gryffindor prefect?”

Percy shot Draco a proud smile over his shoulder. “Nice to know I was remembered.”

“Yeah, you took points off when I was running in the corridor to get to class because I was late.” Draco scowled.

Percy pursed his lips. “Yes, well...Come along. We need all the help we can get-oh Godric, they're here. Expecto patronum!”

Draco whipped his wand around and shot a patronus wildly as a horde of Dementors swooped down from the sky, the ground freezing in their wake.

“Severusssss. You have been a loyal ssservant to me all these yearssss.” Voldemort paced in the boathouse as the trio crouched in the shadows.

Hermione adjusted her grip on her wand as she clenched her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering. She stole glances at Harry, who crouched in front and had the best view. What was happening?

“Nagini. Kill.” Voldemort hissed and unleashed his python on the Potions Master. The three froze, Ron stifling his gasp of shock in his hand as they watched the blood slowly drip down the window sill. A crack later, and Voldemort was gone. As silently as they could, they crept into the room, wands up.

“Professor Snape!” Hermione's voice was shrill in shock at the sight of the formidable man fallen to the floor.

“Take them. Please, take them.” Severus gestured breathlessly to his memories as they leaked from his eyes. Harry hurried to catch them. “Look at me.” Harry looked up, his eyes wide with shock. “You...you have your mother's eyes.” Severus let out a breath, slumping over as he began to succumb to the venomous bite.

Hermione rushed to his side, pressing on the wound as she frantically yelled at Ron. “Find the dittany in the bag!” The blood gushed out of the gaps between her fingers. “Bugger. Of course the venom would have an anti-coagulant. Ron, where is it?!”

“I don't know, I don't think we have any left!”

“Shit, shit, shit!” Hermione bit her lip. “ Expecto patronum !” The trio froze, Hermione's otter dancing in the air, as Voldemort's voice permeated through the air.

“ Harry Potter, I now speak directly to you. On this night, you have allowed your friends to die for you, rather than face me yourself. There is no greater dishonour. Join me in the Forbidden Forest, and confront your fate. If you do not do this, I shall kill every last man, woman and child who tries to conceal you from me.”

Hermione's fingers shook as she felt Snape's blood begin to slow its exit from his neck. “Harry, you need to go. Ron, you go with him-”

“No, I need to do this alone. Ron, you stay with Hermione.” Harry said firmly, and Hermione nodded, too weary to argue.

She turned her attention to her patronus, frowning when it began to disintegrate. It wasn't usually this weak. Again, she lifted her wand. “ Expecto patronum. ” This time, her patronus was even weaker than the last, though it still kept its corporeal form. “Find Madame Pomfrey and relay this message: It's Hermione, we need you. Professor Snape is dying of a snake bite.”

Ron watched quietly as the otter turned to bound away before asking. “Why bother? He killed Dumbledore.”

Hermione looked up at him with a sharp look. “Even if he did, maybe he will have useful information, don't you think?”

“You think you can interrogate Snape?” Ron scoffed.

“Maybe not me, but Aurors, or Kingsley, or, or-” Hermione's mind went blank as she fought for a retort. A soft pop alerted them and they turned to see Madame Pomfrey smoothing out her apron. Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed the medical bag around the older woman's shoulders.

“Miss Granger, what is it-Severus!” She dropped to her knees, setting to work immediately.

“You two better go. We need all the help we can get out there, and neither of you have training in healing, do you?” She shot an appraising look at Hermione as she shook her head. “No? Thought not. Off you go, find Mr. Potter too please. Tell him...well, Tell him we are with him.”

Hermione shot one last look at Snape as Madame Pomfrey pulled potions out of her bag, dripping them into his wound and using spellwork to suck out the poison. One day, she needed to learn how that was done. She turned away and took Ron's hand as they ran toward the Great Hall.

Bursting through, she took in the catastrophic state of the hall, with injured laying in the front as the dead formed a grim wall along the back of the hallway. Ron dropped Hermione's hand as they reached a crowd of redheads, and with a sharp cry, he ran to his mother. Hermione stared blankly at Remus and Tonks, laying next to each other, before her eyes drifted to a redhead-

“No...” Tears welled up as she stared down at Fred, dead by an Avada .

“It-It was my fault...” George hiccuped next to him, tears falling in a steady drip. “We'd just gotten the upper hand, and then Rookwood, he just came out of nowhere, and I-I was too slow so Fred jumped in front, and he-he-he...” George dissolved into sobs as he rocked back and forth in front of his twin, a wail muffled only by his arms.

“Hermione!” Hermione gasped as she was swept into Viktor's arms, and she threw herself at him fully.

“Viktor! Thank Godric you're alright!” She shook as they took each other in. He had a cut above his brow and one of his ears looked like it was singed. “What happened to you?”

“I was fighting with Charlie Weasley and the dragons. I was stupid, I got too close.” He mumbled sheepishly. His expression changed as he looked down at her. “Herminny...you should know...”

Hermione's stomach flipped. “What? What is it?”

“Draco is missing.”

Harry slipped out of the Great Hall, his pulse thrumming in his neck as he filed away the image of the dead. It was time to do what he'd always known he had to do. The pit of despair that had threatened to swallow him whole when he'd come out of the Pensieve was now a heavy weight of acknowledgement. Severus Snape had loved and sacrificed more than anyone he'd ever known. In spite of everything hurled at him, from hexes to accusations, Severus Snape had stayed true to Lily. He had stayed the course. It was time for Harry to do the same.

“Harry?” Harry turned to see Theo coming around the corner, his brown curls a messy mop atop the face of the man he loved.

“Theo.”

“Harry, where are you going?” Theo stepped forward, and Harry shook his head.

He watched the Slytherin's eyes widen.

“No. No, you can't go.” Theo stood in front of him, gripping his shoulders.

Harry felt his heart constrict in his chest as he reached up to touch Theo's face. “Theo, it's the only way.”

“ Bullshit it's the only way! There's always another way! Why? Why you? No, I won't accept it, I won't let you-” Theo's tears began to fall as he shook his head.

“Theo, you have to.” Harry's voice shook as he blinked away the blurriness in his eyes.

They stood like that for heartbeats before Theo let out a broken sob. “But I love you...”

Harry's resolve broke and he pulled the Slytherin into him, teeth clashing as they kissed messily. Theo's arms wound around Harry as the Gryffindor's fingers found purchase in Theo's hair, gripping tightly. Moaning, Theo broke the kiss to adjust as he pressed his body against Harry. Months of loneliness and homesickness reared itself between them as Theo pressed Harry against the wall, his hand dropping down to reach under the hem of Harry's shirt.

“Fuck, how do I let you go? How do I let you go when I love you?” Theo asked breathlessly, and Harry moaned against his lips.

“Just kiss me now, Theodore Nott.”

Theo groaned against Harry's lips and broke away to pepper chaste kisses along the column of the man's neck.

“You know, some Muggles believe in reincarnation? If it's true, I'll find you, Harry Potter. I swear I'll find you again. And when I do, you're mine.”

“I'm yours, Theo.” Harry broke away to look deeply into his lover's eyes.

“It's a promise.” Theo said seriously. They held each other's gaze until their breathing evened before they pulled away reluctantly. Theo swallowed, still tasting Harry on his lips, as he watched him walk away.

Harry walked slowly as he took in the destruction that had been left in the wake of the first wave of fights. He picked his way down the first flight of steps towards the exit of the castle, careful not to step on unsteady rock.

“Harry!” Hermione sprinted up the stairs, grabbing hold of him and hugging him tightly. He hugged her back just as tightly, looking over her shoulder at Viktor.

“We were worried after what Voldemort said. We thought you'd left.” Hermione explained.

“I'm on my way there now.” Harry braced himself for an argument, but all he saw was understanding as tears welled up in both his and Hermione's eyes. “Where's Ron?”

“He's in the Great Hall. Fred, Harry, Fred's dead.” Hermione burst out, and Viktor pulled her into his chest. Harry watched with a hollowness in his chest, nodding.

“And Remus and Tonks too, I saw. Good, he should be with his family.” Harry nodded, stifling his regret at not saying goodbye to one of his best friend. A part of him recalled the words spoken in the woods.

“You don't understand. You have no family!”

“Oh Harry...He would hate for you to go. You know he wouldn't want-” Hermione tried but Harry shook his head.

“I know.”

Hermione pulled away from Viktor and gently took Harry's hand. “I'll go with you.”

Harry shook his head quickly. “No, you need to stay. You find that snake and you kill it, and then it's just him.

“We will, Harry.” Viktor stepped forward, reaching his hand out. Harry took it, grasping firmly. “It has been a privilege to know you, Harry Potter.”

“And you, Viktor Krum. Take care of her, yeah? She's my best friend, and my sister.”

Hermione threw her arms around Harry as she sobbed against his shirt. “I love you so much, Harry. I wish I could do this for you.”

He held her close before gently pulling away, wiping her tears from her cheeks with his hands. “I don't. It is...an honour , to do this for you, Hermione Granger.”

She clutched Viktor's shirt as she watched Harry turn away and walk down the rest of the steps.

“Harry Potter is dead.”

“No!” Ginny's cry rang out in the courtyard, followed by Voldemort and Bellatrix's shrill laughs. Draco stared at Potter's body in disbelief, his shoulders slumping. It was over. Everything they'd fought for, it was all over. Tom Riddle had won.

“Draco? Draco, where are you?” He shifted his head away as he tried to hide from his parents' frantic voices.

“Draco, come.” Lucius' voice shook as he beckoned his son. Please, for the love of Salazar, let my boy live.

Draco closed his eyes as he felt the weight of duty at his shoulders more than ever. He took in a deep breath and opened his eyes, letting it loose when his gaze met Hermione's. Tell me not to go. Just say the words, and I won't.

Hermione found Draco immediately, and her hand gripped Viktor's tightly. Don't. Please don't go. Her eyes flickered over to his parents. He had to. If all was lost, he had to survive. She clasped a hand to her mouth to stifle a sob as she watched him walk toward his parents. Would Theo, Pansy, and the rest of the Slytherins follow? They had lost so many already, how many more would they lose before it was over?

“It will be alright, my vidra. Harry would not want us to lose hope.” Viktor murmured from the corner of his mouth.

“Draco, our brave young Death Eater. Harry Potter ssstole your wand. I return it to you.” Voldemort held out Draco's wand, leering at him as the boy shakily took it from the killer's hands.

“Thank you...” Draco felt a shiver of disgust run through both himself and the crowd behind him at his words, but he kept his head bowed as he walked to his mother.

“Viktor's right you know.” Neville stepped forward, limping. “If Harry were here, he'd want us to keep fighting. He'd say-”

Harry's eyes blinked, taking in the scene from Hagrid's arms. His eyes jolted to Draco's and in a split second, a decision was made. Rolling out of Hagrid's arms, Harry fell to the ground with a grunt, pulling himself up as quickly as he could.

“Here, Potter!” Draco reached back to grab his mother's wand out of her hand as he threw his own to Harry, the Gryffindor Seeker using his reflexes to catch it in midair. At once, pandemonium hit as Voldemort's followers fled, Order members giving chase to hunt them down.

Draco turned wildly to his mother who reached up to grip him by the back of his neck. “My brave boy. You did so well. It's time to go now. Come. Lucius!” Draco follow his mother's steps before throwing a glance back at the ensuing battle.

Theo was battling an unknown Death Eater, and not well. The boy was severely outmatched, stumbling as he was pressed backwards. Finally, Theo fell with a cry. Draco watched in slow motion, his wand not getting up to position in time to throw any useful spell.

It was unnecessary anyway, as a cushioning spell from Hermione followed by her stepping in front of him to blast the Death Eater away was enough to stave off any serious injuries. Just as he was about to turn away, his eyes tracked another Death Eater hidden inside the courtyard hall. This time he was fast enough. His lips formed the words as a white-hot rage burned through his veins.

“ Avada Kedavra !” He snarled at the Death Eater, preventing the same curse from hitting Hermione from behind. He felt a tiny crack in his heart but it was nothing compared to the relief of seeing her safe.

“Draco, we must leave. Now!” Narcissa gave no room for argument as she manhandled her son out of the courtyard, Lucius following behind. None of the Malfoys looked back as they reached the Apparition line, disapparating to Malfoy Manor.

“Come on, Tom. Let's finish this the way it began. You and me.” Harry growled as he gripped Voldemort's decaying robes. With a growl, the killer dissolved into black smoke, taking Harry with him.

“Thanks, Granger.” Theo groaned as Hermione helped him up off the ground. She looked over her shoulder, her senses tingling. What was that? Her eyes scanned the courtyard but nothing was amiss.

“Any time, Theo.”

“So, what's next? What's the plan?” Theo dusted himself off as best as he could.

“The plan, is to kill that.” Hermione looked over and saw the giant snake slithering over bodies looking for live meat. Theo paled as he gripped his wand tighter.

“Kill it? Will an Avada work?”

“Dunno, but we need to try!” Ron yelled out over the noise, and they readied their wands.

“Avada kedavra!” Theo attempted the killing curse for the first time in his life, but it failed, angering the beast. With a hiss, it reared up, its scales armoring itself against the attacks from Hermione and Ron, and attacked. Hermione gasped as she heard Theo's scream, blood gushing out of his side.

“Theo!” She shot a well-placed stinging hex at the snake's eye, making it drop him with a loud crack on the stone floor. They rushed forward, Ron going pale at the sight of the injury.

“I, I don't know what to do, what do I do?” Hermione's voice was shrill even in her head, her hands fumbling to keep the wounds closed. She closed her eyes and tried to remember what Madame Pomfrey had done for Professor Snape, her eyes snapping open as she recalled the wandwork.

Casting a stasis charm on him, she turned to Ron. “We need to get him to St. Mungo's as soon as possible. I'm going to bring him with the other injured, and stay with him. You go help where you can. We still need that snake dead. Here.” She fumbled in her pockets for the fangs they'd found in the Chamber of Secrets. “Take these. Go!”

“Reducto !” Parkinson Senior roared, his wand pointed at the Longbottom boy.

“Protego horribilis!” “Protego horribilis!” George and Angelina's voices chorused as they shot matching shields in front of Neville, severely cushioning the blasting spell shot at him, although he was still knocked out from being thrown against a wall.

“Not so fast. This one's mine.” Pansy stepped forward with an imperious look, staring down her father.

“Pansy.” He sneered. Not a moment of hesitation was spared for his daughter as he raised his wand to face her, taunting her as he did. “Imagine my delight at being able to dispose of my filthy, pathetic daughter personally.”

“Pansy! You alright?” Ron ran up beside her, and she shot him a look.

“Stand down, Weasley. This one's mine.”

At the sound of the name, Parkinson Senior's lips curled into a cruel laugh. “Weasley? Oh, this must be the one.”

“The one?” Ron's ears turned pink as he frowned at the unknown Death Eater. “Who's this guy?”

“This, Ron, is my father.” Pansy scowled. They paced in a circle, facing each other as they sized each other up while Ron assessed.

“And this, must be the filthy blood-traitor that my daughter has fallen for.” The Death Eater snarled.

“Enough! Let's finish this, father .” Pansy spat out, issuing her first curse.

Easily deflecting it, the father laughed cruelly as he shot hex after hex at her without break before idly shooting at Ron too. “Let's see if two of you are good enough to face me, eh?”

Ron shielded easily, his own attacks less fluid than Pansy's but no less effective. “Pansy, what's the plan here?”

“The plan, Ron, is to kill him.” Pansy growled as she shot a triplicate of curses in varying sizes, only the smallest one landing.

“Kill me? I don't think so, my dear. You will die before I lose a drop of blood. And you will die without my name. You are no daughter of mine.” Uttering the final words needed to blast her off the family tree, Parkinson Senior sent a flurry of spells at Pansy, Ron's shields just barely able to cope.

“Ron, leave it!”

“What? But you'll die!”

“I won't! This fight is mine.” Pansy's eyes were steel as she lifted her wand once more. Her hair hung limp, but Ron had never seen a more beautiful sight. Finally, he let down his shields, taking a step back.

“Come, girl. Show me what you've got.” Matching grins turned feral as they duelled from within the rubble. The ensuing battle raged as Pansy threw everything she had at him. All the rage, fear, and disgust she felt for having him as a father was matched equally by his speed and experience. Her technique was impeccable, his wit was insurmountable. They were evenly matched even with the vast difference in years. And yet, as suddenly as it began, it was over. Casting an expanded finger-removing curse, Pansy let out an almighty cry as she cut off his wand arm, tears flowing from her cheeks. She cast a slicing spell across his neck to end his screams as she collapsed in front of him.

“Pansy, that was...incredible.” Ron's voice came from beside her and she leaned back, knowing he would hold her. She sobbed into his chest as her father's screams rang in her ears.

“Shit. Pansy, get up. The snake, it's coming. Get up!” Ron tugged Pansy up and began to pull her, the two of them turning to run as Nagini slithered closer. Ron pushed Pansy out of the way, stumbling and falling as the snake poised to strike.

“Ron!” Pansy turned, her wand pointing wildly. Out of nowhere, Neville stepped out of the shadows, swinging the Sword of Gryffindor. Pansy's eyes widened, watching the tip of the sword pass centimetres away from Ron's head. Time froze as the sword cut through the snake's neck, disintegrating it. Ron threw up his arms as he watched the snake warp and twist in mid-air, partially dissolving like all of the other Horcruxes had.

“Blimey, Neville...”

“You could have killed him!” Pansy shrieked as she stamped over to Neville, her finger prodding the poor boy's chest. “What were you thinking?!”

“S-sorry, Ron! I didn't know you'd be that close, I just saw the snake and went for it-I didn't mean to” Neville fumbled.

“Don't apologize, mate! That was bloody fantastic!” Ron grinned. They turned just in time to see Harry and Voldemort's duel resume. Around them, the Order was overwhelming the remaining Death Eaters. They felt more and more students crowd out of the castle to watch as the final battle began, some even bold enough to cheer Harry on.

“Get him!”

“Go on, Harry, kill him!”

Ron shook his head in disbelief when it finally happened. “D'you reckon it's finally over?”

“Yeah, it better be over. I'm ready to retire.” Harry collapsed on the step next to him. Ron chortled as Neville clapped him on the back.

“So, what's the plan now?” Pansy asked. She toed the rubble by her feet.

7 Months Later

“I can't believe you'd defend him, Hermione. A Death Eater!” Seamus scowled and Hermione sighed. They'd just finished his Wizengamot witness testimony, and hers was next. “Did you forget all the things he's done? That he stood by and watched as you got tortured?”

“No one's forgotten, Seamus. Need I remind you that I am the one who was tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange, and not you .” Hermione's voice cut sharply through the air, ignoring the stares they were attracting in the Ministry's lower cafeteria. Ron shook his head darkly and Harry fiddled with his glasses awkwardly.

“Then why?” Seamus demanded, and Hermione threw her hands up in exasperation.

“Because he was a child when most of it happened, and he was living with two serial killers when I was tortured! Do you really think he could have done anything in that situation?”

A silence fell upon the group before Ron sighed.

“Still... Malfoy . S'not natural, 'Mione, you defending him.” He shuddered dramatically, causing the boys to chuckle.

“Miss Granger?” All heads lifted at her name being called, and she looked over to see a Ministry aide standing several paces away.

“Yes? I guess they're ready for me?” Hermione stood up, the rest of the group following.

The aide nodded, leading the way back to the courtroom. She paused for a moment to collect herself, pressing her palms to her formal black robes.

“I can't stay, I told Mum I'd pop in. Come by the Burrow when you're done?”

“I can't, Viktor's coming later for dinner, so I need to get ready.”

“Ooh, if Viktor's coming, I guess you won't have time for any of your other friends.” Ron grinned as his teasing earned him a blush from Hermione.

“You'll do great, Hermione. Just...say what happened.” Harry's voice came up on the other side of her, and she smiled as she look into his deep green eyes.

“Thanks, Harry.” She took in a deep breath and walked in.

She was fairly familiar with the layout of the chamber, having sat in the public gallery during some of the other Death Eater trials. Before that, she recalled the trio's infiltration of the Ministry just before the Battle at Hogwarts. Her eyes took in the full Wizengamot audience, making eye contact with Hestia Jones and Amelia Bones, Susan's aunt.

“Miss Granger, the Wizengamot thanks you for your willingness to attend these proceedings.”

Hermione's eyes landed on the leader, Madame Griselda Marchbanks. Nervously, she nodded. “Thank you, Madame Leader. It is my duty.” She watched Hestia nod approvingly from the corner of her eye, and she took her seat in the witness chair.

“The bailiff will now bring in the accused. Miss Granger, you are not to speak directly to the accused, do you understand?”

Hermione nodded, her hands clammy. “Yes, Madame Leader.”

The door opened and a soft squeaking from a wheel on a rolling chair entered the room. She didn't dare turn to look, instead allowing him to slowly come into her line of eyesight.

“The accused with say his name.”

“Draco Lucius Malfoy.” His indifferent drawl was like a bucket of ice water splashed over her body and her fists clenched in her lap as she laid eyes on Draco Malfoy for the first time in months. Her eyes searched for recognition in his but all she saw was the cool reception of an occluded mind. She let her eyes fall and she refocused to the Leader, who was already beginning to ask her questions.

Draco let himself watch her behind his Occlumency walls through the prison cage, treasuring every second. Where she'd been skin and bones the last time they'd laid eyes on each other, now she looked more herself. He flexed his hands in his lap in an effort to not reach out to try and grab a strand of her curls. He could smell her signature honeysuckle jasmine scent, and he wondered if she had managed to procure an endless supply of the stuff. Finally, his eyes landed on her lips, moving and nimble with speech. He traced his tongue against his lower lip as his eyes lidded heavily. What was she saying? He tuned in.

“Miss Granger, you mentioned in your written statement that you felt the accused had earned redemption through his actions during the Second Wizarding War, and therefore deserves early parole from his Azkaban sentence. Can you elaborate on that, please?”

He watched Hermione's eyes look over at his, a faint blush on her cheeks as she paused before speaking.

“Yes, Madame Leader. You see, despite what many would call his deplorable lack of inaction-”

Draco barked a laugh, immediately silencing her. Deplorable lack of inaction? This wasn't a good start for a case of redemption. His eyes must have said as much but Hermione soldiered on, her ears pink.

“-there are clear signs of his remorse prior to the ending of the War. As a Hogwarts student and Prefect, he aided the other Prefects in ensuring the safety of all students against the immoral and blatantly illegal actions of Dolores Umbridge. Furthermore, his wilful reluctance to identify Harry Potter to Bellatrix Lestrange at Malfoy Manor shows a clear intention to choose the side of Light. As we all know, the Malfoy household was under the rule of both Bellatrix Lestrange and Lord Voldemort. Draco had no way of defying him openly without incurring their wraths, which would have resulted in the torture and probable death of his parents and himself.” Hermione took a breath, ignoring the winces from the Wizengamot at her liberal use of You-Know-Who's name.

“Thank you Miss Granger.” Madame Marchbanks cut Hermione off before she could continue. “Mr. Malfoy. Could you please tell the court where you were on July 15, 1997?”

Draco's blood ran cold as he prepared himself. This was it. He'd been waiting for this. His eyes turned to fix on Hermione's confused expression.

“I was at the Granger household.” He watched her face morph to one of shock before settling on horror and outrage as she listened.

“Why were you there, Mr. Malfoy?”

“I was sent by the Dark Lord to kill Her-Miss Granger's parents in front of her, and to bring her back to him alive.” He hated how that name tasted on his tongue. The Dark Lord indeed.

“What was he going to do with her?”

“He was going to torture her for information and make a spectacle of her.”

“Madame Leader, may I ask Dra-I mean, Mr. Malfoy, a question?” Hermione's voice cut in and Madame Marchbanks nodded.

“One.”

“Thank you, Madame Leader.” Hermione turned back to speak to Draco directly. Their eyes locked and for a heartbeat it was like they were alone.

Ask. Ask the question. Draco urged her silently.

“How did he know about me?” She hated how her voice shook but her cheeks remained dry.

Madame Marchbanks looked down at the girl. Logically, it was a good question. It was unlikely that the Death Eaters would have known of her. Her eyes slide to the accused, knowing the answer before his lips formed the words.

“I told him.” Draco's eyes penetrated hers and he leaned forward to grab the cage bars. “I told him you were the brightest witch in our year, and that Potter would be nothing without you. That you were always the brains of the operation.”

Never mind that it was one of 2 torture sessions in which Draco had failed to adequately Occlude his thoughts.

Never mind that he'd only shown Tom Riddle memories of his father ridiculing him for earning second place in marks after a filthy Mudblood.

None of that mattered.

Hermione's hands wouldn't stop shaking and she crumpled her robes in them. “Another question, Madame Leader?” She waited for the Leader to nod before looking back at Draco. “Did you try to warn me?” Her voice cracked and Draco's Occlumency walls fell against his will.

“No.”

“You know, that was the one and only time I used the Avada.” Draco whispered, his eyes closed as he pressed his nose into Hermione's hair. Honeysuckle and jasmine. He smiled.

“I know.” She looked up at him, cupping his cheek. “I wish you hadn't had to.”

He looked at his wife, their sleeping son in her lap. “I would've done it a thousand times over for you.”

Chapter Text

The Dark Lord: Defeated once more!

By: Rita Skeeter

Pictured: Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, standing with his devoted companions Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger as they oversee the reconstruction efforts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

After months of rising fear in both the wizarding and muggle worlds as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named rose to power, this Daily Prophet reporter is delighted to be the first to bring you news that the Dark Lord has once again been defeated. More details on page 3.

Severus winced in discomfort and slowly opened his eyes. As his vision slowly cleared, he began to come to. What happened? He could hear muffled voices and he turned his head towards them, jerking back to his original position when a sharp pain made him grip his neck. He could feel soft material around his neck. Gauze. He swallowed thickly in an attempt to lubricate his throat but it did nothing more than make his tongue stick to the roof of his mouth. A door swung open and he winced as the level of noise immediately increased in his vicinity.

“ Oh, Severus, you're awake! Good, good.”

Severus' lips curled. He should have known. “Poppy?” He tried to speak, but only managed a whisper. Madame Pomfrey came into view, her face a vision of relief as she gently patted his shoulder.

“ Don't speak, you're still recovering. You gave us a fright there, Severus dear. Ah, but let me see your diagnostics first.” A wave of her wand and he felt her magic wash over him, comforting and warm. Glowing words formed next to his bed and he squinted as he tried to read backwards. Poppy tutted after a few seconds and waved her wand again to dissipate the diagnostics charm.

“ Still need to recover a little more, I suspect. How do you feel? Any feverishness? How is your pain?” She laid a cool hand on his forehead, ignoring his feeble attempt to wave her away.

“ Water.” He croaked, swallowing again as he tried to speak. A jolt of pain ripped through his throat as he tried to clear it, and he noticed a flash of concern flit over her face before disappearing.

“ Here, have some water. Slowly, now.” She took an empty cup from his bedside table and spelled a quick aguamenti before giving it to him with a straw. He took long slow sips as he gathered his bearings. Finally, he set the cup down and fixed his dark stare on the Hogwarts matron.

“ What happened?”

“ See for yourself, boy.” Poppy handed him the day's issue of The Daily Prophet from her purse and he scanned the headlines briefly.

“ Dead. The Dark Lord is dead?”

“ Those three did it. Mr. Potter, the youngest Mr. Weasley, and Miss Granger.” Poppy brushed a finger across her eye to flick a stray tear away. Severus' head swirled with questions as he tried to digest the news. His eyes picked up stray phrases in the article: “Bellatrix defeated by Molly Weasley” , “Malfoy family disgraced” , “Aurors are hunting remaining Death Eaters still at large” . It was too much. He set the paper down and looked up at his old colleague. Poppy wisely brought out a Muggle whiteboard and marker, giving it to Severus. He scrawled out one sentence.

“ Tell me everything.”

One Week Post-War

Hermione pushed the sticky strands of her hair out of her face as she watched the visitors of the third Australian coffee shop she'd visited since arriving here. Muggles milled through, none of them matching her parents' description. Sighing, she glanced down at the small sheet of paper in front of her, her pen hovering over the location address.

“ Not here either...” She muttered quietly. It was near closing time, and it was unlikely they would be coming in now. Knowing their old schedule, Hermione expected that they should be just finishing up a cup of coffee somewhere , just not here. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples as she tried not to despair. She'd been in Sydney for a week already. Where were they? She'd tracked them via the airline passenger manifestos shortly after their Obliviation , so she knew they had landed in Sydney. From there, she had to track them herself.

“ I told you they hadn't closed yet, Monica. Come, grab a seat while I get us some coffees, shall I?”

Her head snapped up as she heard a familiar jovial tone. The door opened with a gust of hot air and her parents walked into the establishment. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched them walk to the counter, mere metres away from her. Tears pricked her eyes and she felt her chest squeeze as she saw them for the first time.

She took a sip of her iced coffee, eyes following her parents. She watched as her mother accepted a cup of what she knew was a black coffee, dark roast. She watched her father bite into a croissant. She watched as they held hands across the table from each other. She just, watched.

“G'day, ma'am.” The receptionist smiled cheerily up at her from the front desk as Hermione entered Wilkins Dentistry. Her keen eyes darted around, recognizing familiar touches that made her heart ache. Her parents' old dentistry practice had also included a small children's corner to distract nervous young patients from their internal impatience.

“Hello. I called a few days ago about registering as a new patient at this practice. My name is H-Jeanette Grisby.” Hermione stumbled over her fake name as she fixed a practiced smile on her lips. She nodded along as the receptionist checked her in before she went to sit down to wait her turn. It didn't take long before her name was called.

“Miss Grisby? Right this way. Dr. Wilkins will see you shortly.” The hygienist led her through the small maze of examination rooms until she'd reached the second-closest room to the back office.

“Which Dr. Wilkins will I be seeing?” Hermione asked as her eyes took in every detail from the fluorescent lighting to the box of 'goodies' left out for children. A small smile tugged at her lips as she saw the similarities. Some things couldn't be erased.

“You'll be seeing the missus Dr. Wilkins, Monica. Don't you worry, she's great.” Hermione's fingers twitched at her sides at the thought. The hygienist motioned for her to take a seat before stepping out. “Make yourself comfortable, I'll let her know you're ready.”

“Thank you.” Hermione made a show of sitting down and settling until her ears heard the last echoes of the woman's shoes stepping away.

She waited a beat longer before getting up, taking her wand out of its holder. She stared down at her wand and felt the familiar weight of the enchanted wood on her palm. Here we go. She took in a deep breath and steeled herself before casting a cushioning charm on her shoes. Creeping silently out of the examination room, she made her way to the back office, tapping the door handle with a wordless alohomora when it wouldn't yield to her push. Bated breath staled in her lungs as she slid into the room, eyes analyzing.

Immediately, she recognized the back turned toward her, and she froze. Her hands began to tremble and tears welled in her eyes as she took in her mother's appearance. Her white muggle doctor's coat hung from the coat hanger next to the door, leaving her dressed in her favourite scrubs – periwinkle blue with pink and yellow flowers and matching scrub bottoms.

The woman was hunched over in a position Hermione recognized as similar to her own, no doubt handwriting notes in her patient's files. A broken sob threatened to escape her lips, but before she could let it, Hermione swallowed it down and raised her wand.

“ Recogitare.” Hermione whispered, concentrating with all her might on the exacting nature of the wand motions even as her wand trembled. A wisp of magic exited the tip and entered the unaware woman's head, causing her to pause. Hermione stowed away her wand quickly as she watched her mother stand up and turn around. They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before Monica Wilkins frowned, stepping forward.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?”

Hermione's heart sank. “I-ah, that is-” Her mind was blank as she scrambled to remember her contingency story.

“I asked you a question, miss. Patients aren't allowed back here, and I don't recognize you. What's your name?” Monica was growing increasingly agitated and Hermione stepped back hastily.

“I'm so sorry, Doctor. I think I took a wrong turn. I'm sorry.” Hermione stammered and fled the back room, brushing away hot tears. It hadn't worked, she'd failed. She held in her sobs as she stumbled through the office hallway with blurred vision until she bumped into a solid figure.

“Whoa there. Everything alright, miss?”

Hermione froze as her father's concerned voice resonated from above her head. Keeping her head ducked, she squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. “I-I'm sorry. I must go. Please excuse me!” She wrested herself away from him and ran out of the office, not stopping until she'd exited the whole building.

A storm brewed in her mind as she wore a path down by pacing in her room. What now? She had practiced her wandwork, her intonation, everything. It should have worked. Why hadn't it worked? She closed her eyes and thumped her forehead against the wall as she paused in her flurry. Her mind went back to the moment, and she went over it again. Her hand had been shaky beforehand, but at the moment of spellwork, she was calm. Everything in her research showed that she’d done the spellwork correctly. She sighed as her mind came to the only possible conclusion. Plan B. 

Sitting down at the small desk, she pulled out an inkwell and a piece of parchment before dipping the hotel-provided quill into the ink. This would be the one and only time that she would use her “Golden Girl” status, she told herself. Writing quickly, she began to make a list of the healers she would reach out to as soon as she arrived home.

One month Post-War

“ Good morning, Miss Granger.” A elderly man in Bangladeshi Healer robes nodded toward her in greeting. Hermione silently thanked the universe that the magic in St. Mungo's allowed for seamless translation between languages.

“ Good morning, Healer Amin. Have you recovered from the jet-lag?” Hermione smiled as she stepped into the elevator.

The man shook his head ruefully. “The jet-lag isn't bad, it's food I miss.”

Hermione grinned and leaned toward him conspiratorially. “I can owl you the name of several Muggle restaurants.”

“ Yes, please! I would be so grateful!” He clutched her hands in his and shook them.

“ I'd be happy to, Healer Amin. After all, you've been so kind to stay and help us with the overflow at St. Mungo's.”

“ Anything for the heroes of the wizarding world.”

The elevator chimed and an automated voice came from the speaker. “First Floor – Creature-Induced Injuries”

“ Well, this is me. It was so lovely to see you again, Healer Amin.”

“ Good to see you, Miss Granger. Please pass my regards to Mr. Potter.”

Hermione stepped out of the elevator and quickly ducked her head to hide her face as she walked the familiar path.

“ Miss Granger, good to see you again.” The assistant at the reception desk nodded at her with a smile.

“ Hello, William. Did you just arrive?” Hermione smiled politely.

“ Yes ma'am, I have the evening shift tonight.”

“ Oh, I do hope it's a good one for you.” Hermione recalled the age-old superstition to not say the word quiet , and they shared a knowing smile.

“ Which one are you visiting today?”

“ Both, if that's alright?”

William nodded towards a patient room at the end of the wing, blinds drawn. “Better start with him. Mr. Potter arrived just a few minutes before you.”

She looked over and nodded. “Oh good. I'll come by and see you later.” She hardly heard William's breezy reply as she walked toward the closed room. She'd barely had time to knock twice against the door before a muttered alohomora made it swing open slightly.

“ Hermione, you came.” Harry's weary eyes sought hers from next to Theo's bed. She quickly closed the door and walked to the other side, her eyes scrutinizing them both.

“ Of course I came! Theo, how are you feeling?”

“ Oh, brilliant, Granger. Never better.” Theo grinned with gritted teeth.

Harry leaned forward, his green eyes intense as he watched Theo struggle to sit up. “Slowly, Theo.”

“ I'm fine, Potter.”

“ ‘Potter’, now?” Harry’s piercing green eyes fell slightly. Pain unrelated to his injuries flashed across Theo’s face and he looked away. 

Hermione settled into the only other empty seat. “Are we still on this?” She smoothed down a wrinkle on Theo’s bedsheet in an attempt to quell the sharp pain twisting in her heart. 

“I just don’t understand why-” Harry started to speak but Theo cut him off.

“I said, no!”

“But why ?” Harry shouted, and Theo winced before schooling his face into a blank expression.

“I don’t need to give you an answer, Potter. You may be the Chosen One but-” 

Even Hermione could tell that Theo was putting it on, and badly at that.  Harry snarled and grabbed Theo by the hospital gown. “It’s Harry! I’m not Potter , I’m Harry. Stop acting like Malfoy and talk to me !”

A silence fell over the two boys. “Harry, can you go see if Madame Pomfrey has arrived yet? I’m meant to meet with her soon.” Hermione lied smoothly. She watched him fight the urge to argue but simply sighed and left the room, his emerald eyes never leaving Theo’s. When he left, she sighed and turned back to the injured boy. “He’s not going to stop. You know that. He’s stubborn like that.” 

Theo’s lips twitched for a moment but he shook his head. “I can’t.”

“And why not? The war is over, you are free.” You’re all free.

“Yeah, like that makes a difference.” Theo scoffed, and she frowned.

“What do you mean?” She pressed him.

Theo shook his head. “I’ll never be free, Granger. It’ll always be hanging over me, over us. I couldn’t do that to him. He deserves more. He deserves better than me. He-”

“I deserve to be with the one I love.” Harry burst into the room, eyes blazing. 

Hermione closed her eyes with a sigh before turning to him. “Did you even go look to see if she’s there?”

“I didn’t need to. I know when you’re lying to me, ‘Mione.” He said dismissively, and she shot Theo a look, as if to say, ‘see? I told you he’s determined.’. Staring up at Harry, Theo’s eyes were unusually bright. Both of them watched Harry stride right to Theo’s side, taking hold of his hand. “Please, Theo. Let me be here for you.”

Theo blinked rapidly for a few seconds before he nodded slowly. Exhaling a long breath, Harry pressed his forehead against Theo’s. Hermione rose from her seat and began to walk out of the room, leaving them some privacy. As she slipped out, she heard the last of their conversation.

Neither spoke before Theo croaked out, “Love?”

Harry’s voice was just as full of emotion. “Did you think I was lying when I said it the first time?”

The knife in Hermione’s chest twisted yet again as she closed the door, and she leaned against the wall briefly. 

“Miss Granger.” Madame Pomfrey spoke next to her, and she startled.

“Madame Pomfrey. It’s so lovely to see you. Are you here to see Professor Snape?” Hermione had seen the frequent visitor logs for her old professor, and she smiled at the thought of him having visitors.

Poppy nodded, patting Hermione’s shoulder. “I just left him, dear. And didn’t I say to call me Poppy? Goodness knows you aren’t a student or a child anymore.” They smiled sadly at each other. 

“How is he? Has his voice come back yet?” Hermione asked nervously, confused when Poppy’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What do you mean, dear? He’s been able to speak for two weeks, thanks to that Dr. Amin. Brilliant man, he is.”

Hermione grew slack-jawed and then indignant. “He’s been able to speak for two weeks ?”

Poppy looked on in amusement. “Why yes, he’s been a veritable chatterbox, well, as much as he can be I suppose, since-oh, don’t wear him out, Miss Granger. He still needs to rest, you know.” She watched Hermione storm toward Severus’ room.

“Oh, I won’t, Madame-I mean, Poppy. And it’s Hermione.” She called out over her shoulder.

Severus barely looked up from his book when Miss Granger flew into his room, her hair bobbing around her neck as if it had taken on a life of its own.

“Professor Snape, how could you not tell me that you were able to speak again?” Hermione seethed as she dropped into the seat next to his bed. “I’ve been coming here every single day for a month , and you haven’t said a word! And now I hear from Poppy that you’ve been able to speak for two weeks?”

Poppy? Severus looked up with a disinterested stare before returning to his book. He would need to have a word with that witch for spilling his secrets. 

“Professor, please! Don’t you know how worried I’ve been? How worried we’ve all been?” Hermione’s voice was reaching decibels only dolphins could hear, and Severus sighed. 

Taking out his whiteboard, he simply wrote, “Miss Granger.” Although the ruse was up, he had no intention of making things easy for the silly girl.

“Oh, stop it, Professor. The ruse is up, or whatever it is that people say these days. I know you can speak. How are you feeling? Is there anyone I should contact? Oh, would you put that sodding thing away , you grouchy old man?!” Hermione gasped and clasped her hand to her mouth in shock.  Where had that come from? She was hanging around Ron too much. 

Severus’ dark eyebrows rose to meet his hairline, and his lips twitched as he watched the girl blush with embarrassment. “My, Miss Granger. Speaking such foul language to someone you want as your mentor.” His voice was still raspy, something he had been told would likely never be fixed.

“I’m so sorry, Professor. I don’t know what came over me, I just- what ?”

“Is it or is it not your intention to ask me to be your Potions mastery mentor?” Severus folded his arms against himself as he looked at her appraisingly.

“Well, yes. Yes it is. But I don’t see how you could possibly know that?” 

Severus pursed his lips. “That is of no consequence to you. My answer is no. Is there anything else?”

Hermione wilted but pressed on. “I see. Well, that’s disappointing. However, I feel you should know that I will not give up quite so quickly. I can give you a detailed reasoning of why I am the best candidate to be your apprentice-”

“While I’m sure your “detailed reasoning” would be riveting to Minerva or Filius, I have no desire nor necessity to read your incessant prattling, Miss Granger.” Severus interrupted her with a clipped tone. 

Hermione shut her mouth with an audible clip of her teeth and pressed her lips together as she took in a steadying breath. “I see.”

“Indeed.” He drawled.

“Yes, well.” Hermione looked down at his bedspread and fought the urge to fiddle with a corner. Rising to her feet, she spoke as evenly as she could, trying to keep the shakiness from her voice. “I shall leave you to rest, Professor. I’ll come visit again.”

“That is not necessary, Miss Granger.” Severus said evenly.

She whirled around, a determined look on her face. “Even so, I will come visit again.” She paused at the door briefly. “Thank you, Professor, for what you did.  You have always, always protected us.  I never, we never thought-” She dropped her head in shame, unable to continue.

Severus sighed. “Miss Granger, you mistake me if you think I did it for the thanks of my former students.”

“No, you did it out of loyalty to your best friend.” Hermione’s smile was bright, and Severus scowled. “I think everyone can understand that. Good day, Professor.”

He watched her slip out of the room and sighed.

“Blasted meddling people…” 

Hermione kept her head down as she went to the St. Mungo’s canteen, not wanting to draw attention to herself.  Harry had left Theo’s bedside to go see Molly and Ron at the Burrow, leaving her alone for the time being. She stepped in line to grab a quick meal as her mind ran through her laundry list of things to do. The end of the war had left the wizarding world in pieces, and she, like everyone else, had to step up to fill in the gaps. As she followed the slow traffic of the line, her eyes fell on a stray copy of the Prophet . Loathe though she was to read the rubbish, she picked it up anyway.

MALFOY FAMILY - CAPTURED! Is this the end of one of the Sacred 28?

By: Rita Skeeter

Reliable sources close to the case share that all three of the prestigious Malfoy family have been arrested and taken in for questioning regarding their involvement with the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Although the Malfoy family solicitor has petitioned for all three to be released on bail, all three shall be held in Azkaban until their trial date. It is unknown whether the Kiss shall be administered to any of them, although this reporter expects that both Mr. Malfoy Senior and Junior are prepared to-

Hermione crumpled the tabloid paper in her hands with a growl and stepped out of line, making her way to the nearest Floo entrance. She’d lost her appetite. She nearly vibrated with anger as she stepped into the Floo fire, snarling her address.

“That deplorable little beetle !” She was still snarling in anger as she stepped out of the Floo into her own Ministry-provided flat. “I should have kept her in that jar and left her in the Forbidden Forest, the vapid beast.” She threw herself into her chair, ignoring the harsh squealing of the chair legs sliding across her floors. As the anger settled momentarily, her mind went back to what she’d read. The Malfoys were going to prison, potentially getting the Dementor’s Kiss. Her chest squeezed painfully as her last memory of Draco flashed behind her eyes. Summoning a piece of parchment and quill, she set to writing.

Harry,

Have you seen the Prophet? We can’t let this happen. Floo me.

Hermione

She folded the small piece of parchment and walked to her Floo. Sprinkling some Floo dust on the paper, she called out, “Number 12 Grimmauld Place” and flung it into the green flames. Walking back to the small dining table, she took out another paper. 

A week later saw nothing but disappointment. Hermione stepped out of the Floo into 12 Grimmauld, looking around. “Harry?”

“In here.” His voice called from the dining room, and she smiled with nostalgia. 

The place had remained largely the same, despite Yaxley’s minor visit.  The Fidelius charm had been remade with Ron being secret-keeper. There had been some discussion surrounding whether perhaps Neville or Luna were better suited, as Ron had been so affected by the Horcruxes in the Forest. In the end, though, they had agreed that Ron was the best choice. They would choose to trust their best friend, as the Marauders had. Ron had blushed pink and smiled for the first time since Fred’s death when Harry had pulled him into a tight hug.

“You’re my best friend, Ron. You’re my brother. It has to be you.” Harry had insisted, and Ron had just nodded quietly, his eyes glimmering with tears.

“I won’t let you down.”

“You never let us down, Ronald.” Hermione had thrown her arms over both boys, hiding both their faces as the three shed silent tears.

“I take it you got a reply too?” Harry asked upon seeing her appear around the corner. 

Hermione nodded and pulled the official Ministry-sealed envelope from her pocket. She sat down between her boys at the table and laid it out in front of her, next to two identical envelopes. “Did you receive one too?” She asked Ron, who nodded grimly.

“I didn’t write for Malfoy, mind. Just his mum.” The hurt ran deep with the redhead, and Hermione gently gripped his arm.

“Well, shall we?” Harry said impatiently.  He glanced at the two of them before swiftly opening his letter. His eyes scanned the parchment, his eyebrows knitting together as he read its contents.

“Well?” Hermione asked, unable to wait. 

He looked up slowly. “Their hearings are rescheduled to tomorrow.”

Hermione frowned. “Alright…? And? What did they say about the petition?”

Harry passed the paper to her. “Nothing. That’s all it says, look.” 

Hermione snatched up the letter, scanning it quickly before grabbing her own letter. Surely… but no. In the same standard black ink, Hermione read the exact same letter as Harry’s, only this time it was addressed to her. Beside her, Ron had opened his own letter, and the three leaned in as she laid all three letters out in front of her. Identical.

“That’s it? What the fuck?” Ron collapsed back into his seat with a groan.

Hermione stared at the letters.

“I guess we’re going to their hearing tomorrow.” Harry said matter-of-factly. 

“Order!” Madame Griselda Marchbanks pressed her wand tip to her throat as she used a sonorous to speak over the protesting crowd. She waited for the noise to quieten before she continued. “We have heard every testimony put forth in front of this court. We have heard all the evidence presented to us. It is now time to come to our conclusion. In the matter of Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, head of the Malfoy family, former Board of Governors member for Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, alleged Death Eater, we sentence you to a lifetime sentence at Azkaban prison, with no chance for parole. Order!” 

A roar of cheers rang out through the chambers, and Hermione clutched both her boys’ hands. She sat sandwiched between them as both Theo and Pansy flanked their other sides, Blaise capping off the row on Pansy’s side. They watched Lucius snarl and scream in his cage, fighting against his restraints as spittle flew in the air from his rage, his limp blond hair swinging over his face. Hermione’s eyes connected with his and she felt a shiver run down her spine as he mouthed mudblood’ while his cage lowered below the floor into the cavernous holding cell below. 

Narcissa’s cage was slowly brought above ground, and Harry’s hand clenched tightly in Hermione’s. “In the matter of Narcissa Malfoy nee Black, wife to Lucius Abraxas Malfoy and mother to Draco Lucius Malfoy, your bravery in the face of evil is commended and noted in several testimonies. We the Wizengamot further note that your actions were made under duress, and that your motives have always been to your son. Therefore, we hereby dismiss all charges placed on you. You are free to go.”

The uproar and jeers from the gallery nearly deafened the group who watched Narcissa barely respond from her cage. Ron and Harry’s hands loosened in Hermione’s as they relaxed. Their individual petitions had worked. Hermione had helped, of course, but it was their words. She took in a shaky breath as a fraction of anxiety began to ebb away. Narcissa finally lifted her eyes up to the group, scanning everyone’s faces. Finally landing on Harry’s, she gave a single nod, her cage slowly descending.

Hermione stilled in her seat, frozen, as the final cage was pulled up from below. Her nails bit into the boys’ skin as she recognized the blond hair, pale skin. He was gaunt, his eyes haunted.

“Oh Draco… ” Pansy whispered next to Ron, Blaise a frosted-over statue. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to keep from sobbing as her heart thudded in her chest.  This was it. She’d revised and revised the letter until she could recite it backwards and forwards. It had to work.

“In the matter of Draco Lucius Malfoy, son of Lucius Abraxas Malfoy and Narcissa Malfoy nee Black, heir to the Malfoy Estate, and alleged Death Eater, we have heard testimony of your resistance, and of our loyalty to the Light. We have also heard testimony of your torture of students at Hogwarts. We hereby sentence you to 10 years in Azkaban prison. You will be eligible for parole after 6 months.”

“No!” Hermione broke out, standing up from her seat. Her shout was drowned out by the rest of the crowd, half jeering at Draco and half screaming that it wasn’t nearly enough. Tears blurred her eyes as she watched the boy’s cage begin to lower. His silver eyes were dull as he plastered his signature sneer on his lips. His eyes scanned the crowd disinterestedly until they reached the group. Hermione’s keen eyes immediately noted the pause and slight widening of his eyes as he took them in. The fleeting moment disappeared when he dropped his gaze down again, the sneer back on his face as he was swallowed into the darkness.

Hermione’s ears were ringing. Distantly, she recognized Ron comforting a heartbroken Pansy while Theo simply sat defeated next to Harry. Blaise had disappeared at some point. None of it mattered. He wouldn’t survive. Draco wouldn’t survive in Azkaban. What was she going to do?

How she found her way back to her flat was unknown, but there she was, standing in front of a stack of multi-coloured letters on her table. Reaching over, she took the top letter from the pile and sat down, her hands trembling slightly as she ripped it open.

Dear Miss Granger,

Thank you for requesting my expertise in this matter. As you are no doubt aware, Memory Charms are notoriously difficult to reverse, and dangerous if done incorrectly. I have reviewed your research and commend you on your thoroughness to the cause.  

Unfortunately, I am sorry to say that I am unable to assist you. In my experience, the length of time which has passed since the performance of the charm has exceeded the window of opportunity in which any mind healing would have helped.

Hermione crumpled the letter without reading the rest, tossing it aside as she ripped open another one.

My sincerest apologies- No. My deepest regrets- No. Over and over again, Hermione kept going until the letters had all been opened and scattered around her, her hands shaky.

“Herminny?” A familiar voice called from the Floo, and Hermione looked up. She stood up as Viktor stepped into her flat, dusting the powder off of his uniform. His dark eyes immediately sought hers, and his long paces made him stand in front of her within seconds. “What happened, vidra?”

Hermione looked up at him unable to speak, her fingers still trembling. What was there to say? Viktor looked at the letters scattered around her and picked one up. Eyes scanning as he struggled to understand the English, he dropped it back down and cupped her face, his rough thumb smoothing over wet cheeks. 

“Vidra, I am sorry. I am so sorry.” He gathered her in his arms and rocked her as she finally broke down into sobs against his chest. 

“There’s nothing I can do. I’ve written to dozens of healers, everywhere. The Chinese, the Mexicans, the Italians, the Russians. Everyone says there’s no way to reverse it.” Hermione choked out. 

Viktor kissed her halo of curls as he gently pulled away to look at her. “Vidra, do not give up hope. We will find a way. Come, sit with me. We will find the way.” His arms tightened around her and he kissed her forehead. 

“We hereby sentence you to 10 years in Azkaban prison.”

“We hereby sentence you to 10 years in Azkaban prison.”

The sentence echoed in Draco’s mind as he dipped below the floor of the overcrowded Wizengamot hearing chamber. Slumped in his hard metal chair when he was finally cloaked in darkness, his sneer sliding off his lips. He was going to be in Azkaban for 10 years. He was going to be with the Dementors for 10 years. His body began to tremor as realization struck, and he dropped his head. Hot liquid dropped to his hand and he realized belatedly that he was crying. He heard the guards pacing outside his door, and he cringed when it sounded like they were coming to him. 

No, not now! I need time, I need to prepare myself. Please, a little more time!  

He didn’t know if he was shouting it or just shouting it in his mind, but it was all he could hear now. Seconds ticked by, or maybe it was hours. He couldn’t tell in the darkness, not when he was the only thing left here. 

Was it going to be like this? Was he going to be forgotten here, until he rotted away? 

Despair and hysteria hit as the gravity of his situation sunk in. 

Gone. 

Gone . 

Everything is gone.

You’re alone. 

All alone. 

Forever.  

“ Draco?” A familiar voice. Draco pulled his head up to see his prison door open, his mother stepping in behind a guard. 

The door clicked shut and they were alone. Narcissa’s face crumpled as she saw her broken son, and she ran to his cage, clinging to the bars. “Oh Draco, my poor sweet boy.” 

Draco weakly covered his mother’s hands with his own and they smiled sadly at each other. “At least you got out, Mother. That’s all that matters now.” He said quietly, his voice cracking. Narcissa’s fingers tightened over his and she shook her head.

“None of that, Draco. We will get you out of here. I’ll make sure of it. Don’t you dare give up, do you understand?”

“Mother, please. You know how it had to be-”

“No!” Narcissa cried out, silencing her son. “No. I refuse to accept it. You are not going to rot away in Azkaban prison. You won’t.”

“Mother…” Draco dropped his gaze down to the grimy floor. A guard outside his door knocked loudly. It was time. Draco took in a steadying breath. “Thank you for coming, Mother. I forgot myself.”

Narcissa watched her son slowly rebuild a piece of himself as he sat upright in his cage, a glimmer of determination in his eyes. “That’s right, Draco. You don't give up.  You’re a Malfoy and a Black, and neither of us ever give up.”

Draco nodded. “Dobby.”

“Dobby?” Narcissa asked. A small pop echoed.

“Young master Draco and Missus Malfoy.” Dobby stood just outside of Draco’s cage, next to Narcissa. Draco smiled at the house-elf, his mind going back to their last conversation.

Battle of Hogwarts - at the edge of the Forbidden Forest

“Expecto Patronum!” Draco shouted, his grey fox springing out of his wand to join the other corporeal and non-corporeal patronuses as they kept the Dementors at bay. He ignored the open stares from students as he ran toward the edge. Adrenaline pumped in his veins as he sent slicing curses at a trio of banshees, decapitating them before their screams could take effect. A curse cut just in front of him, knocking down a creature he’d never seen before. He whipped around to see Percy Weasley nodding at him before he split off in the other direction. A battle cry ahead grabbed Draco’s attention, and he resumed his sprint.

“For Master Regulus Black!” Kreacher cried out, leading the charge of Hogwarts house elves, each carrying some form of kitchenware as they ran into battle. A smaller, separate group of house elves broke off to race toward a different section. Which one needed him more?

“For Harry Potter!” A familiar cry made his decision, and Draco ran towards Dobby’s group, immediately recognizing the free elf at the helm of the group. His eyes grew wide as the elves clashed with acromantulae, the giant spiders snarling and spitting venom as they tried to skewer their opponents. Draco sent curse after curse, slicing and vaporizing the beasts, but it felt like they were never-ending. As more joined their brethren, Draco found himself wading to the front, battling one in front as he defended a smaller elf to his right. A fine sheen of sweat formed over his body and he felt his wand grip slipping. He stumbled over a tree root and ducked his head as the Whomping Willow swung in his defence toward the fang-baring spider before him. 

“Master Draco, sir!” Dobby was fighting next to him, flipping a cast-iron pan in his hand as he stabbed his opponent with a kebab skewer. Draco blinked at him, slightly dazed as he took in the sight.  The former employee stretched out his hand, smiling when Draco took it. “No time to rest, Master Draco.” They turned to face the new wave of spiders, standing together.

Now

“Dobby. Thank you for saving me back then.” Draco said solemnly, making Dobby straighten his spine. 

“Of course, master Draco. I will always protect a friend of Harry Potter.” 

A rueful smile ghosted Draco’s lips and he huffed a short laugh. “A friend of Harry Potter…I don’t know that he would count me one of his friends.” A beat passed before he continued. “Dobby, I am going to Azkaban prison. I won’t be released for some time. While I’m there, could I ask you for one final favour?” 

Dobby observed his old master. “Anything, sir.” 

“Will you continue to keep your promise?” Draco’s eyes searched Dobby’s, the last drop of hope in him hanging in the balance. The drop grew when Dobby’s ears wobbled as he elf nodded. 

“Of course sir. Dobby will keep his promise, sir.” 

Draco’s shoulders sagged and he nodded. “Thank you, Dobby. And as always, your discretion.” His eyes flickered to his mother’s, silently asking the same of her. Both nodded their assent as the guard outside knocked once more. It was time to go.

3 months post-war

“Come, girl. Show me what you’ve got.” Pansy sidestepped the wordless curse shot at her chest, sending a blood-boiling curse to her father with a snarl. It grazed his shoulder, doing nothing to hinder him as he took a menacing step toward her.

“Is that all you can do?” Parkinson Senior flourished his wand before jabbing it towards his daughter, sending a bone-splintering anti-healing spell at her knees. His confidence barely wavered as she leapt out of reach, deftly aiming a sight-stealing curse at him. 

“Don’t worry father, I can do much more than this.” Pansy noticed nothing and everything as the Battle of Hogwarts raged around them. Ron was next to her, keeping an eye on her as he defended a young Hufflepuff battling a masked fighter. Her eyes keyed in on her father’s every movement, and she felt her body respond automatically. After all these years of being told she was nothing, this was her moment. This was it.

Parkinson Senior felt the shift in his daughter more than he saw it, but it didn’t matter. The little chit would never win against him. He ducked low and aimed his wand at her from below, sending a shot of pressurized air at her. He watched with satisfaction as her eyes went wide, feeling the air come rushing up toward her. But no, she slipped away again. He gnashed his teeth and tossed a combination of hexes at her, trying to throw her off-balance.

Pansy stumbled away from the blast of air, hearing the castle wall behind her crumble from impact. Her non-dominant arm came up to blot the sweat off her forehead, a streak of dust marking her for her efforts. She twirled and ducked to avoid the spells thrown at her, noting how erratic her father was growing. He had no patience, no finesse. In all her years of etiquette training and political lessons, that was the one thing she had over him. He was a Slytherin by lineage, she was a Slytherin by nature.  She would always win. 

And yet, as suddenly as it began, it was over. Casting an expanded finger-removing curse, Pansy let out an almighty cry as she cut off his wand arm, tears flowing. She cast a slicing spell across his neck to end his screams as she collapsed in front of him. It was finally over.

“Pansy? Pansy, wake up.” 

Pansy stirred from her nightmare, Ron’s low but insistent voice pulling her out of it. She blinked awake in the darkness, and saw her boyfriend’s red hair glinting in the moonlight streaming from her bedroom window.

“You alright?” Ron asked, his rough hands cupping her cheek. 

She simply nodded, pulling him down by the collar of his nightshirt. “Just a dream.”

He groaned against her lips, his hand wandering down the side of her body to rest at her waist. “Talk about it?”

She shook her head as she threw a leg over his hip. “Just kiss me, Weasley.” She sighed contently as he traced his way down the column of her neck with his lips.

“Anything you like, Parkinson .” Ron rumbled into her skin, nipping at the flesh when he felt goosebumps all over. The perks of spending the night, he thought to himself with a grin. 

Pansy pushed her hand up Ron’s shirt, mapping her way up to his soft chest hair as she pulled him to settle between her legs. Her eyes drifted shut, her back arching as he gently bucked against her, his hands holding her steady like he was her anchor at sea. Lips found each other, moans harmonizing. Pansy reached down to peel off her shirt only to be shushed by Ron as he pulled away, dropping down to the hem. She watched from above as he reverently kissed every centimetre of skin exposed as he slowly pulled her shirt up. Her bra coming into view, he groaned at the sight of her silken skin covered by lace.

“Fuck, Pans.” His blue eyes lifted to meet hers and she smirked. 

Hunger flashed in his eyes and he dipped his mouth down as his fingers peeled her bra cup down, popping her nipple out. She shut her eyes with a low gasp, her chest arching at the feel of his talented tongue swirling around her. Salazar , he was good. Her fingers found themselves wound in his hair as she cupped his head and pulled him closer, whimpering in response to his playfully teasing licks. 

Ron’s ego swelled in his chest as her moans dropped like music in his ears, and he reached up to trace his fingers over the underside of her other tit. He’d missed these the most, and he was going to make sure to enjoy every moment now that he had them in his reach.

Pansy squirmed under him, keening as jolts of pleasure went straight to her clit. Her hips twisted as she tried to grind against him, but it wasn’t nearly enough. “Ron, don’t fucking tease me.” She whined.

“Oh Pans. I’m not teasing. I’m worshipping .” Ron’s voice was rough as he pulled up to kiss her luxuriously, and she melted against her mattress once more. “I’m going to take my time with you. Don’t you know that by now?” 

Pansy arched her back once more at Ron’s teasing tone. He’d pinned her arms at some point in that kiss, and she stared at him now, watching as he made his journey down to her nipples again. They kept looking at each other, and she squirmed as he ghosted his breath just above one, making it pucker. 

“Not teasing? You call this not teasing?” Pansy groaned, a shiver running down her spine when he chuckled. A gentle lick made her hiss and throw her head back before she looked back down at him. “Ron Weasley, what the fuck are you waiting for?”

Ron’s eyes danced with mischief, waiting for her to look back at him before he leaned in and gave another lick, immediately engulfing her nipple in his waiting mouth. He nipped at the tip with his teeth and bucked against her slowly, his cock twitching in his sleeping trousers. His hand reached back and unbuckled her bra, both of them groaning when her tits finally came free from their cage. He looked up, catching her eye, as he began to wander to her shorts. 

“Stay like that.” 

Pansy trembled slightly. “And why should I?” Her voice was lofty even as it shook, and Ron flashed her a roguish smile. In a flash, he was looming over her, covering every inch of her body with his. 

“Because, princess, I said so. And I’ll give you something good for your troubles.” He caressed her face gently and she leaned into the touch. “Are you going to behave for me?” He leaned in and purred into her ear. 

Pansy nodded, keeping her hands up above her head even though Ron had released her wrists. She twisted her fingers into the bedframe, flushed with anticipation when Ron pulled her shorts and knickers down, groaning at the sight of her already glistening. 

“Good girl.” He crooned. He kissed and licked his way up her leg before diving in, groaning when his tongue made contact with her core. 

Pansy cried out as he licked her, ravenous as a starved animal. His tongue, Merlin his tongue. She desperately wanted to drop her hand to his head but she kept it stead, bucking her hips as she moaned loudly. As tension rose from within, she writhed under his attention, her breaths stuttering. His fingers slowly found themselves inside her, the thrusting rubbing all the right places. Her knees bent as she shifted under him, but he held her hips down with a growl, relentless.

Ron was in heaven, Pansy’s taste flooding him until there was nothing else. He slipped his tongue up to make broad strokes against her clit, his eyes lifting up to watch her tits bounce as she wiggled. She was a sight to behold, writhing in her bed as whimpers burst from her lips. He changed the pace, flicking the tip of his tongue quickly as he rubbed at her spot from within, loving to discover what made her twist and cry out in that delicious little plea of hers. The change in her cries urged him on as he kept the persistent pace until she was grinding hard against him, her muscles clenching around his fingers as her whole body shook. 

“Yes, yes, yes !” Pansy cried out, her head thrown back. 

She dragged her nails down Ron’s back, loving how it made him shudder and groan. Below, she felt his cock twitch between her legs, and she shifted under him as she whined. “I need you. Please, Ron.” Pansy nearly growled in frustration as he wavered. “Don’t be a fucking gentleman now .”

A wayward grin crossed his features before Ron leaned in to whisper into his ear. “That’s my Pansy. Take it, take it all, my bossy witch.” He swiped his tongue over the shell of her ear and lined himself up, rubbing his tip over her until it was slick with her juices. 

Together, they moved as one, him guiding himself into her as she rotated her hips, whining when he deliberately slowed down to torment her. Finally after she’d shot him a warning look, he thrust into her fully.

“So good, Pansy, you feel so good. Godric, you’re so warm. How are you so warm?” Ron muttered, panting slightly from the effort as he held himself up, his eyes trained on his cock entering between her legs.

Pansy, squirming and trembling, leaned up to kiss him lightly, both of them groaning as the movement jostled them. “Circe, move , Ron. I need you to move.” The burning sensation of her being stretched by his thick cock was drowned out by her overwhelming need for the man above her. Another shallow thrust, and then another, until Pansy’s nerves were on fire everywhere. Her grip on the head board slipped and her arms came down to circle Ron’s shoulders, her fingers weaving into his hair. 

Slipping a hand down to gently trace his thumb over her clit, Ron murmured against her hair, enjoying the delicate whimpers and huffs from her lips. “Such a bad girl. Didn’t I say to keep your arms up? Fuck, look at you, Pansy. Look how good you look, spread out for me. Don’t worry, Pans. I’ve got you. All mine, yeah? Every inch of this body is mine, and I’ll make sure you never forget it.” His pace slowly sped up, his breath growing stuttered as he punctuated his words with each thrust. His hand dropped down to trace a slow path over her clit as he whispered praise into her ears. “That’s my girl, my good fucking girl . ” 

Pansy dug her nails into his back, reveling in his strangled grunt as he fucked her into the mattress ruthlessly. “All yours.” She echoed breathlessly, tears pricking the back of her eyes as she clung to him. “Circe, you’re so good. I’m all yours, Ron. Fuck me, just like that. Yes, keep going. Yes, you’re going to make me-I’m close! Come with me, Ron.” 

“I’m right here, baby. I’m not going anywhere. I’m close, wait for me, Pans. Godric, I’m so close!” Ron grunted into her shoulder, his hips snapping hard. 

Writhing under his touch, she pulled him into a ravenous kiss, both panting as they crept closer to the edge. A hand slid up to Pansy’s face, drawing her eyes up to meet his, and they stared at each other, watching the other get ready to fall apart. 

“It was you, it was always you. How could there ever be anyone else?” Pansy whispered as she saw the emotion reflected in Ron’s eyes, his harsh pace stuttering for a moment before he recovered. He circled his thumb over her clit faster, making her arch her back with a sharp cry. “Ron!” 

Dropping his forehead to her shoulder, he grunted as he felt her come apart around him, the pressure overwhelming his senses as he let out a strangled moan. A few more thrusts were all he had left in him before he was spurting into her, shuddering and moaning incoherently. He barely kept himself upright as he came, flinching and gasping as Pansy traced patterns into his over-sensitized skin. 

Pansy smiled in the darkness as the last of Ron’s orgasm fled through him, and she gently teased his nipple one last time for good measure before he pulled away and collapsed into bed next to her. 

“Blimey, witch.” Ron panted. He summoned the last of his strength and turned over, pulling his girlfriend into his body. They kissed languidly in the afterglow, their breaths slowing. As the silence settled over them once more Ron reached up to brush a strand of hair from Pansy’s cheek. “Alright?” 

Pansy nodded, leaning up to kiss him tenderly. “I’m yours,” she whispered. They smiled at each other, nuzzling their noses together. 

“All mine.” 

Severus massaged his scarred neck with a grimace as he sat in his Hogwarts quarters, adjacent to his office. The bloody students staying at bloody Hogwarts for the summer had finally deigned to leave him alone after endless bloody questions about the bloody memories he’d given bloody Potter. He resolved to track down that blasted boy and obliviate him by the end of the week if he didn’t stop spreading ridiculous rumours of heroism and ‘bravery in the face of evil’. He was shocked the school wasn’t overflowing with reporters and misguided overly-sentimental parents, at the rate in which the rumours had flown. The thought lifted his spirits slightly, curling his lips into an out-of-practice smile. 

Knock knock knock

The brisk tap on his door immediately stole his humour and he squinted at the door, trying to see through the enchanted wood. He needn’t have bothered, as the female voice calling from the other side could be only one.

“Professor. Professor Snape, please. I know you’re in there and I’m not leaving until you let me in.”

The surly man scowled at his doorknob, wondering if he should silence the door again and leave Miss Granger in her ignorance. The persistent little twit had been on the receiving end of his deliberate ignorance from the moment he’d left St. Mungo’s, but she showed no sign of relenting. His long finger swiped over the rim of his tea cup as he considered his options. He knew from years of teaching her that he would get nowhere by ignoring her. He would also get nowhere by letting her present her no-doubt thesis-level argument to him. Short of cursing her with an obliviate (that spell really was quite handy), he had no option but to take her on as a student. 

Severus sighed as he grappled with the decision, his eyes casting around his office. Would it be so terrible to have her as an apprentice? 

Yes, she’s an insufferable brat who has saved the world, meaning she’ll have all the ego of a bloody Gryffindor, asking a million questions at once. 

Yes, but was it truly so awful? 

…

Severus sighed. He adjusted the ends of his robes as he got up, crossing the room and into his office. He drew himself up to his fullest height and swung open the office door abruptly, staring down the hook of his nose at her. His eyes drifted down to note her arms full of papers, and he scowled.

“Professor Snape. Thank you. I-” Hermione hurried to speak, not wanting to lose her opportunity. If she could just get him to understand, she knew he would see reason.

“Miss Granger, do you happen to breathe, by any chance?” Severus sneered, amused when he made her stutter and blush with embarrassment. They stood staring at each other for a moment before he whipped around, walking to his seat behind his desk. “Sit.”

Hermione hurried to follow, sitting in the well-used chair facing her former professor.  Her hands began to fidget in her lap nervously, but she simply pulled them up to push her Muggle folder of research to him.

Severus eyed the pile with a mixture of reluctance and curiosity before the latter won out.  Flipping open the folder, he scanned the first page: Removal of the Dark Mark. His eyebrows twitched slightly and he firmly closed the folder, pushing it back to her. 

“Miss Granger. Perhaps you have failed to recall in that renowned intelligence of yours, but I am a Potions Master. I do not engage in-”

“-foolish wand waving or silly incantations.” Hermione finished his sentence, smiling slightly. “I remember, Professor. I remember every single one of your lessons in my years at Hogwarts. I also remember you mentioning in my fifth year that Potions can be an antidote to spellwork, as it is often considered the opposite of such magic. I have done the research, Professor. You are the very best Potions Master in all of Europe, and you have only taken two apprentices. I hope you will take me as your third.”

“And why the Dark Mark, as your focus? St. Mungo’s has a whole wing full of patients with other maladies more interesting than helping Death Eaters hide their most visible shame.” He snarled the last bit, his own arm resonating with a dull ache.

Hermione looked down, clenching her hands. Taking in a breath, she looked back up at her prospective mentor. “I have friends who were marked, who never participated. They fought hard for our side, sir. You fought hard for our side. For all that you’ve sacrificed, this is the least that I can do. I want to free you of these shackles.” Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth with words unsaid, but as she sought his eyes again, she knew that he understood. “Please, Professor. If there is a way, I have to try. And I can’t do it without your help.”

Severus steepled his fingers as he took stock of the woman in front of him. She was still the same unbearable Gryffindor, but he could see the change war had brought upon her. And yet, of course, this was about Draco. 

Hermione had almost given up hope when she finally saw him open his mouth to speak.

“I am no longer your professor, so it would be inappropriate to call me such.” He paused for dramatic effect, enjoying the last moment to its fullest. “Master Snape will do, Apprentice Granger.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped slightly and she sat frozen in her seat until her brain caught up. With a shriek she leapt up, unable to contain herself as she threw her hands in the air. “Yes! Merlin, you had me terrified, Professor!” She danced around the chair, grabbing her folder with one hand and sticking out her hand with the other. “Thank you, Master Snape. I promise I won’t let you down!”

Severus sighed, annoyed already. Rubbing his neck, he waved her off. “I’ll owl you the contract for a Mastery program, and let Minerva know to expect you. As my apprentice, you will be sitting at the staff table for meals, by me. You will also have a room available to you here.”

Hermione grinned and nodded, backing out of the office quickly. She knew when to quit, after all. “Yes sir, thank you sir. I look forward to receiving your owl!” She closed the door quickly and grinned to herself gleefully.

Severus closed his eyes at the sound of his door thudding shut, groaning internally as he heard a muffled squeal from behind it. Merlin save me.

7 months post-war

“I can't believe you'd defend him, Hermione. A Death Eater!” Seamus scowled and Hermione sighed. They'd just finished his Wizengamot witness testimony, and hers was next. “Did you forget all the things he's done? That he stood by and watched as you got tortured?”

“No one's forgotten, Seamus. Need I remind you that I am the one who was tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange, and not you .” Hermione's voice cut sharply through the air, ignoring the stares they were attracting in the Ministry's lower cafeteria. Ron shook his head darkly and Harry fiddled with his glasses awkwardly.

“Then why?” Seamus demanded, and Hermione threw her hands up in exasperation.

“Because he was a child when most of it happened, and he was living with two serial killers when I was tortured! Do you really think he could have done anything in that situation?”

A silence fell upon the group before Ron sighed.

“Still... Malfoy. S'not natural, 'Mione, you defending him.” He shuddered dramatically, causing the boys to chuckle. 

“Miss Granger?” All heads lifted at her name being called, and she looked over to see a Ministry aide standing several paces away.

“Yes? I guess they're ready for me?” Hermione stood up, the rest of the group following.

The aide nodded, leading the way back to the courtroom. She paused for a moment to collect herself, pressing her palms to her formal black robes.

“I can't stay, I told Mum I'd pop in. Come by the Burrow when you're done?”

“I can't, Viktor's coming later for dinner, so I need to get ready.”

“Ooh, if Viktor's coming, I guess you won't have time for any of your other friends.” Ron grinned as his teasing earned him a blush from Hermione.

“You'll do great, Hermione. Just...say what happened.” Harry's voice came up on the other side of her, and she smiled as she looked into his deep green eyes.

“Thanks, Harry.” She took in a deep breath and walked in.

She was fairly familiar with the layout of the chamber, having sat in the public gallery during some of the other Death Eater trials. Before that, she recalled the trio's infiltration of the Ministry just before the Battle at Hogwarts. Her eyes took in the full Wizengamot audience, making eye contact with Hestia Jones and Amelia Bones, Susan's aunt.

“Miss Granger, the Wizengamot thanks you for your willingness to attend these proceedings.”

Hermione's eyes landed on the leader, Madame Griselda Marchbanks. Nervously, she nodded. “Thank you, Madame Leader. It is my duty.” She watched Hestia nod approvingly from the corner of her eye, and she took her seat in the witness chair.

“The bailiff will now bring in the accused. Miss Granger, you are not to speak directly to the accused, do you understand?”

Hermione nodded, her hands clammy. “Yes, Madame Leader.”

The door opened and a soft squeaking from a wheel on a rolling chair entered the room. She didn't dare turn to look, instead allowing him to slowly come into her line of eyesight.

“The accused will say his name.”

“Draco Lucius Malfoy.” His indifferent drawl was like a bucket of ice water splashed over her body and her fists clenched in her lap as she laid eyes on Draco Malfoy for the first time in months. Her eyes searched for recognition in his but all she saw was the cool reception of an occluded mind. She let her eyes fall and she refocused on the Leader, who was already beginning to ask her questions.

Draco let himself watch her behind his Occlumency walls through the prison cage, treasuring every second. Where she'd been skin and bones the last time they'd laid eyes on each other, now she looked more herself. He flexed his hands in his lap in an effort to not reach out to try and grab a strand of her curls. He could smell her signature honeysuckle jasmine scent, and he wondered if she had managed to procure an endless supply of the stuff. Finally, his eyes landed on her lips, moving and nimble with speech. He traced his tongue against his lower lip as his eyes lidded heavily. What was she saying? He tuned in.

“Miss Granger, you mentioned in your written statement that you felt the accused had earned redemption through his actions during the Second Wizarding War, and therefore deserves early parole from his Azkaban sentence. Can you elaborate on that, please?”

He watched Hermione's eyes look over at his, a faint blush on her cheeks as she paused before speaking.

“Yes, Madame Leader. You see, despite what many would call his deplorable lack of inaction-”

Draco barked a laugh, immediately silencing her. Deplorable lack of inaction? This wasn't a good start for a case of redemption. His eyes must have said as much but Hermione soldiered on, her ears pink.

“-there are clear signs of his remorse prior to the ending of the War. As a Hogwarts student and Prefect, he aided the other Prefects in ensuring the safety of all students against the immoral and blatantly illegal actions of Dolores Umbridge. Furthermore, his wilful reluctance to identify Harry Potter to Bellatrix Lestrange at Malfoy Manor shows a clear intention to choose the side of Light. As we all know, the Malfoy household was under the rule of both Bellatrix Lestrange and Lord Voldemort. Draco had no way of defying him openly without incurring their wraths, which would have resulted in the torture and probable death of his parents and himself.” Hermione took a breath, ignoring the winces from the Wizengamot at her liberal use of You-Know-Who's name.

“Thank you Miss Granger.” Madame Marchbanks cut Hermione off before she could continue. “Mr. Malfoy. Could you please tell the court where you were on July 15, 1997?”

Draco's blood ran cold as he prepared himself. This was it. He'd been waiting for this. His eyes turned to fix on Hermione's confused expression.

“I was at the Granger household.” He watched her face morph to one of shock before settling on horror and outrage as she listened.

“Why were you there, Mr. Malfoy?”

“I was sent by the Dark Lord to kill Her-Miss Granger's parents in front of her, and to bring her back to him alive.” He hated how that name tasted on his tongue. The Dark Lord indeed.

“What was he going to do with her?”

“He was going to torture her for information and make a spectacle of her.”

“Madame Leader, may I ask Dra-I mean, Mr. Malfoy, a question?” Hermione's voice cut in and Madame Marchbanks nodded.

“One.”

“Thank you, Madame Leader.” Hermione turned back to speak to Draco directly. Their eyes locked and for a heartbeat it was like they were alone.

Ask. Ask the question. Draco urged her silently.

“How did he know about me?” She hated how her voice shook but her cheeks remained dry.

Madame Marchbanks looked down at the girl. Logically, it was a good question. It was unlikely that the Death Eaters would have known of her. Her eyes slide to the accused, knowing the answer before his lips formed the words.

“I told him.” Draco's eyes penetrated hers and he leaned forward to grab the cage bars. “I told him you were the brightest witch in our year, and that Potter would be nothing without you. That you were always the brains of the operation.”

Never mind that it was one of 2 torture sessions in which Draco had failed to adequately Occlude his thoughts.

Never mind that he'd only shown Tom Riddle memories of his father ridiculing him for earning second place in marks after a filthy Mudblood.

None of that mattered.

Hermione's hands wouldn't stop shaking and she crumpled her robes in them. “Another question, Madame Leader?” She waited for the Leader to nod before looking back at Draco. “Did you try to warn me?” Her voice cracked and Draco's Occlumency walls fell against his will.

“No.”

7.5 Months Post-War

Leader Marchbanks appraised the papers in front of her. To the left, the prisoner file of Draco Lucius Malfoy, convicted Death Eater and son of notorious Death Eater Lucius Malfoy. To the right, testimonials and witness statements in favour of the prisoner. The right pile was almost double the height of the left, unbelievable though it was. At the top, with perhaps the most hefty stack of documents the Wizengamot had seen in decades, was Hermione Granger’s testimonial.  Copies of her memories had also been provided, bottled and stacked next to the piles.  All in all, there was quite a stacked case.

She sighed and rubbed her temple. The oral testimony had finished two weeks ago, and all it had done was give her a headache. And yet…Her eyes landed on her notes of the testimony. 

---

“From the moment of his birth, Draco Malfoy was a boy plagued by family loyalty and allegiances forged with the wrong side.  Yet, with every turn, as I have proven, he chose the side of Light.” Hermione spoke to the council, her eyes bright. “He saved students from the worst punishments inflicted by the Carrows, he aided in the deliberate thwarting of Muggle kidnappings and tortures, and he prevented the death of the Chosen One, directly impacting the tide of the war and leading to the ultimate victory of Harry Potter against Lord Voldemort.” 

A ripple of unease flowed through the council and gallery but Hermione stood firm. 

---

Invoking his name had been calculated, Marchbanks knew, and it had had the expected effect. She pressed her hand to her eyes for a moment before standing up.

“In the case of Draco Lucius Malfoy, we the Wizengamot hereby free you from your sentence in Azkaban prison. You are free to go.”

A roar of protest erupted from the gallery as the council filed out of the court. Leader Marchbanks glanced back in time to see Hermione Granger collapse against Theo, sobbing as Draco Malfoy was released from his bindings. The former convict stepped unsteadily into Narcissa Malfoy’s arms, the woman holding him upright as she spoke into his ear. 

Draco stared off into the distance, his wizarding robes whipping wildly around him in the wind. A rare streak of sunlight split through stormy clouds and illuminated him on the highest hill on the Malfoy Wiltshire estate grounds. 

“Draco?” Narcissa called to him from below, but he kept his eyes on the horizon. 

He was free. Silver eyes trained on the dark and heavy clouds coming quickly, he took in a breath. 

The war was over but the ache of it clung to his bones. Arriving home, he had had a singular thought on his mind. He strode into his office through his bedroom. 

“Dobby.” He prayed that the house-elf would answer. A small pop was all he needed. 

“Master Draco.” Dobby caught himself mid-bow and straightened up. “Dobby is happy to see you are home from Azkaban.” 

“Thank you Dobby. You…I’m glad you survived the war also.” Draco said awkwardly. He watched with mild amusement but mostly embarrassment as the elf’s eyes welled up with tears. 

Dobby sniffled loudly into his pillowcase and pulled a Muggle Manila file out of wherever it was that house-elves stored things. He passed the folder to Draco. “This is everything, sir.” 

“Everything?” Draco asked, perplexed. 

“Yea, sir. Dobby thought…Dobby thought that young master would want to know things when he was freed, sir. Things about Miss Granger, sir. This is everything Dobby knows.” 

Draco felt a well of emotion in his chest as he looked down at the substantial folder. “Thank you, Dobby.” 

Dobby shook his head vigorously. “Dobby didn’t do it for thanks, sir. Dobby only thought that Miss Granger needs someone else to know, sir.” 

“To know what?” Draco pressed, but Dobby shook his head again.

“It’s all in the folder, sir. Dobby goes now, but Dobby knows the young master will help her.”

Draco looked into Dobby’s insistent eyes and he nodded. “Thank you, Dobby.” 

Dobby nodded once more and popped away. Sitting down, Draco opened up the file, beginning to read.

“Draco, darling you need to go out. You must be present in society. I have lined up several different events you should attend to slowly reintegrate-“ Narcissa cut up her fruit daintily as she spoke, unaffected by her son’s now-routine absence of emotion. 

“Mother, I am not attending any events. No one wants me there, I have become a pariah thanks to your husband .” Draco bit out as he aggressively cut into his toast. Still unable to eat substantial food, he bit into the tasteless bread, washing it down with bland tea. 

“You will not always be a pariah, and before long, the wizarding world will not remember why you were an outcast to begin with.” Narcissa said smoothly, ignoring her son’s indelicate snort. 

“Fat chance of that.” Draco muttered. 

Any hope he’d held before Azkaban of having a normal life had been quashed the moment he’d come within reach of the Dementors. A second felt like an hour, a day felt like a year. He had been thrown into a solitary confinement suspended cage, his only companions the Dementors floating above, below, and around him at all times. The highlight of his day was the five-minute reprieve he received three times a day when human guards delivered his meals. The lowest point? The moment that he was hoisted back up in the air, dangling like bait for the wraiths. 

To have survived 6 months in there, in the depths of hell, and make it out with his sanity, was something Draco never imagined he would do. Yet here he was. Alive, but useless. The image of Hermione’s file in his office flitted through his mind, and he abruptly stood up. 

“Excuse me, Mother. I have some else to attend to.” He drawled, sticking his hands into his trouser pockets as he walked out. 

Quick sharp taps echoed down the hallway of the Malfoy estate leading to Draco’s room, and he sighed from his reading chair. A quiet pop echoed through the hall, giving a momentary delay to his visitor. He rose from his seat and grabbed his wand, picking up the file on his desk. He slipped the address Dobby had provided him into the very top, keeping it secure in his hands. 

“Master Theo! I’m sorry, sir, Master Draco is not having visitors today.” Neli squeaked from outside his ajar door, several rooms down the hall. 

“Don’t worry, Neli. I’m not a visitor, I’m his best friend. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” Theo’s smooth baritone answered before footsteps resumed. Draco listened to them, timing his steps toward the Floo fireplace. 

“But, Master Theo!” Neli protested as Draco’s door swung open. He threw floo powder into the fireplace and stepped inside, whispering his destination. 

“Ah, there’s the wanker. Being locked up in Azkaban for six months and you not accepting visitors is bad enough, but you’ve been home for two weeks and ignored every Floo, owl, and patronus.” Theo strode into the room, scanning it for his best friend. “What the fuck?” 

“Master Theo.” Neli squeaked indignantly as she rushed in. “Neli apologizes, Master Draco. Master Theo didn’t let Neli-” 

“He’s not here, Neli. You’re safe.” Theo waved his hand around, turning in a circle. His best friend had evidently disappeared into thin air. 

9 Months post-war 

“I’ve reviewed your comparison of St. Mungo’s pain-management protocol used for the Cruciatus curse with the Bulgarian preventative treatment for Veela manifestation and I agree that the nature of both would be helpful with the suppression of residual ache from the Dark Mark.” Severus intoned, his eyes boring into Hermione’s. “However, you fail to include Nagini’s venom in your calculations. Her unique properties, no doubt distilled and refined by Lord Voldemort,” he snarled the name behind gritted teeth, “make her the missing piece that we need to pinpoint and solve before we even attempt to dissolve the Mark on a subject.” 

Hermione sighed as she leaned back in her chair. She knew what she was missing, but it was like trying to grasp a butterfly mid-flight. It was right there but she couldn’t reach it. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Furthermore, we can hypothesize that he placed separate and intertwined spells that would awaken upon any attempt of removal.” 

“How can we know that?” Hermione interjected. 

Severus lifted his arm and removed the disillusionment charm from his Mark. “Experience.”

Hermione gasped as she leaned in to examine her mentor’s mangled arm. “Circe…” Severus’ mark was raised and puffy like a fresh brand. Shiny and red, she didn’t need to touch it to know it was hot as fire. 

“Indeed.” He dropped his sleeve and put his arm down. 

Hermione pursed her lips. “If I recall, you provided Theo, Blaise, and Draco balms to heal their marks when they were first branded. Was that also your own concoction?” 

“It was, from years of personal experimentation. Sadly, its effects have been nullified after my attempts at removal.” 

Hermione gazed at the covered section. “Poppy hasn’t been able to help?”

Severus shook his head. “Poppy has been most useful in providing pain relief potions. But, as you are aware, they are highly addictive. I have opted not to use them unless completely necessary.” 

She nodded, silently ruminating. Theo rarely complained about his Mark, Blaise ever the one to soldier on. And yet, she had no doubt that they too felt the effects. And if they did…

“The Mark’s hold on you grows stronger with time.” Severus’ voice cut through her thoughts. "Your classmates no doubt feel a lesser degree of discomfort."

“Oh.” A brief pause. “Have you spoken to him? To Draco?” She asked, almost afraid of the response. His cold façade, and his oral testimony of what he’d been expected to do that night on July 15, 1997. 

“I have not.” Severus said, noting how his apprentice wilted in front of him. “It appears that he has left the country.”

“Is that so? Do you know why?” 

“I’m afraid I do not. Needless to say, I do not make it a habit to track my former students, Miss Granger. Now, if you’re quite finished with your questions, we can continue. I have notes on my findings.”  

“O-oh! Of course. Please, show them to me.” Hermione shook her head to clear her thoughts.

Knock knock

Draco scratched his newly grown stubble as he waiting for the door to open. He scrutinized the bottle of Muggle wine in his hands from behind his sunglasses. The brand was unknown to him, but he knew his subjects like it. He listened for footsteps behind the door, pasting a lazy grin on his face. 

“Draco, there you are! Come in, come in. Mon, oh, stop fiddling with that, Draco’s here.” Wendell Wilkins smiled broadly, taking the bottle in one hand as he pulled the blond into a bear hug. 

“Wendell, thank you for inviting me again. I didn’t think you would after I took all your money.” Draco smiled smoothly. His gaze slid over the man’s shoulder and he nodded at the woman emerging from the kitchen. “Monica, hello.”

“Draco darling, it’s so good to see you. Come in, come in. I hope you brought your appetite.” 

“Even if I hadn’t, you certainly would have summoned it. What is that? It smells divine.” He bent slightly to kiss her cheek.

“Oh, you’re sweet. It’s nothing special. I just thought we could have a Sunday roast for a changed since it’ll be four of us this time. Do you know if your friend will be joining us soon?” Monica asked, leading them into the dining area. 

Draco nodded, palming his hidden wand anxiously. “She should be arriving soon. I’m grateful that you were willing to open up your home to both of us.” 

“What nonsense. How could we not have you over, when we so rarely meet a fellow Londoner?” 

Several successive raps on the front door alerted them, and Wendell went to open the door, bringing back a stately middle-aged Taiwanese woman. Draco stepped forward, reaching for her immediately. 

“Madame Tsai. It’s a pleasure to see you.” Draco smiled warmly at the healer, who greeted him kindly. 

“Mr. Malfoy, always good to hear from you.” She winked conspiratorially at him behind the others’ back, both of them sharing a knowing look. Weeks of preparation had led them to this moment. But first,

“Monica, Wendell, this is Madame Tsai. She is the esteemed colleague I told you about. Her doctoral thesis on female obstetrics is world-renowned. Besides that, she is an excellent poker player.” 

“Ah, but Draco is too easy. I’m sure we can beat him together tonight, yes?” Madame Tsai beamed as Monica and Wendell chuckled. She watched the dynamic of her two charges, categorizing everything.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend, I believe the saying goes. I look forward to partnering up with you.” Wendell grinned. 

“Oh, no. Since we finally have another girl, why don’t we make it a game of boys versus girls? Come on, Madame Tsai. Let’s give them a run for their money.” Monica giggled, bringing the image of Hermione giggling to the forefront of Draco’s mind. With a pang in his heart, he watched her parents welcome him and the mind healer into their home. 

He’d scoured the family library before expanding to his other family libraries. With Narcissa as his mother, he still held familial ties to the ancestral Black estates. Several jaunts into the dustiest tomes had reaped a handful of obscure references to Eastern medicine. From there, it was a simple task of calling in the right favours. No matter how unscrupulous, or how exorbitant the cost, he had been like a bloodhound caught on a scent. 

He’d almost lost the trail in Tibet until one of the healers had mentioned a retired Taiwanese healer who was lauded in both Muggle and Magical society. Rumours had it that she had faked her death in the Muggle world after revolutionizing medicine as a woman, living a retired life in the Magical community instead. 

The esteemed healer now rarely took cases, and had taken no small amount of persuasion before agreeing to help Draco’s cause. Draco glanced over at the woman with unabashed gratitude before clapping Wendell on the back. 

“Shall we begin?”

“So, Monica. Draco mentioned that you lived in England previously? What made you both decide to move to Australia?” Madame Tsai gently probed as they sat in the living room while the men cleaned up. She watched a blank expression cross the woman’s face. 

“We’d always talked about coming here for a trip.” Monica said vaguely, her voice soft and lilting. 

“A trip? Do you still have a home in England then?” Madame Tsai pressed, trying to find even a sliver of an opening. 

“No, we sold it.” Monica’s voice became monotone, as if she was reciting a script. Madame Tsai sighed inwardly. One of the side effects of especially strong Memory charms was that scripted memories and phrases became less and less entrenched, fading as new memories took their place but remaining as a scar. With some luck, Hermione Granger hadn’t planted too many of these memories into her parents’ minds. 

“Wendell, why did we decide to stay in Australia?” Monica asked, the boys coming to join them. 

“Oh? We…huh. I’m not sure, darling.” Wendell’s face twisted in confusion, and Madame Tsai rose from her seat. Best not to agitate them too much. 

“I’ll make some tea. I hope you don’t mind oolong?” She gave Draco a pointed look before stepping into the kitchen. With her back turned, she prepared the tea, emptying a quarter-dose of her revival potion into the couples’ cups followed by a delayed-activating slumber potion much less potent than Dreamless Sleep. Balancing it all expertly in her hands, she brought it back. Her sharp eyes took in their relaxed posture, and she nodded approvingly at Draco. 

“Come, drink.” She sipped her own tea, watching the couple. 

“This is delicious, Madame Tsai.” Wendell sighed with Monica nodding by his side.

“My special blend.” Madame Tsai smiled. “You mentioned that you had a home in England. Did you have family?” Slowly, she prodded them as the potions began to take effect. 

“No, we are both only children and our parents died some years ago.” Wendell shook his head. Draco stayed silent, drinking his tea as he observed. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. And you never wanted children?” The Taiwanese mind healer shifted directly into the first issue: regaining Hermione back into their memories. She sipped her tea as she waited for their minds to slowly stitch the missing pieces together. This would be a long process. 

“We always wanted to, a little girl.” Monica’s voice grew sad as she stared unfocused into her cup. “I can almost see her, a beautiful little girl with my mother’s hair and your smile, Wendell.” 

“Yes, I know what you mean. Smartest one in her class, and always so curious.” Wendell’s voice was wistful as he looked outside. Madame Tsai looked over at Draco. The first seed had been planted. 

1 Year Post-War 

“We have come a long way, but there is still much to do.” Madame Tsai sighed. She was sitting in Draco’s library, enjoying a cup of tea with her current employer. 

“It’s been months, and yet they still cannot remember her name. They’re amenable to magic, they even remember they’re own names. Salazar’s sweaty taint, they even remember Harry bloody Potter and Ron fucking Weasley!” Draco scowled as he paced the width of the room. 

“Mr. Malfoy. They have made impressive progress in the time I have worked with them. You must remember that we are fighting against the mind itself, the most stubborn organ in the whole body. And if I am correct, Hermione Granger’s parents are every bit as, ah, determined, as the Golden Girl herself. We cannot rush this, or we risk tipping the balance of their sanity itself.” 

“I know, I know Madame Tsai. I know. But we are also taking too long. It’s been nearly two years since the original spell. What if we’re too late? What if they never remember?” 

“You mustn’t think like this, Draco. She will be remembered. Have faith. 有信心 (yǒu xìnxīn). Yes?”

Draco sighed, nodding.

“Good. They already remember seven crucial memories. Once they remember the eighth, it will fall into place. Now come. We must go if we are to meet them soon.” 

A Floo and a quick apparition trip later, Draco and Madame Tsai stood at their charges’ doorstep. A commotion behind the door had them exchanging glances before Draco muttered a quick alohomora , swiftly opening the door. 

The scene was chaos. Plates smashed on the hardwood floor, the glass coffee table tipped on its side, and Monica in hysterics as Wendell tried to calm her down. 

“What’s happened?” Draco ran toward them, kneeling in front of them both. 

Monica was desperately clinging to a book, rocking back and forth as she wailed. 

“She was reading Shakespeare and just suddenly started crying, I don’t know what happened. Monica, Mon, talk to me.” Wendell tried to pull the book from her hands but she snatched it back. 

“No! No, no!” She sobbed, rocking once more. Wendell sent a distraught look to Madame Tsai as she tried to soothe his wife. 

“Monica, what do you remember? What is it?” Madame Tsai asked. Slowly, Monica, formerly known as Jeanette Granger, raised her tear-filled eyes, lips trembling. 

“Hermione.” 

"You brought them back to me." Hermione murmured as she leaned in to kiss Draco's shoulder, resting her head on it. 

"I had to try, for you." Draco pressed a kiss to the top of her head. Their eyes watched Scorpius, fast asleep on the sofa. 

"We all tried to find you. For months, you never Floo'd or owled us. Theo was heartbroken until you sent that Muggle postcard through the international Floo from Australia, and Harry was ready to storm the Ministry to "Chosen One" his way to the front of the International Portkey waitlist so he could throttle you." Hermione giggled. Draco rolled his eyes, tipping his head down to peck her nose.

"You knew about that postcard?"

She shook her head. "I didn't know until last Christmas, when I saw it laying around." 

"I asked him not to tell you. Invoked the solemn "best friend" card and all. I wasn't ready to face you and everything I'd done just yet. I wanted to make things right before I saw you again. Especially after everything." His breath ghosted her lips before they met, pulling a soft moan from her.

"You gave me everything, Draco." Hermione stared up at her husband, the love she felt reflected in his eyes.

"You saved me, over and over." He closed his eyes, a dull ache of guilt washing over him slowly. He opened them at the touch of her hand cupping his face.

"We saved each other. We found the way."

Chapter Text

“So, you gave Nan and Granddad their memories back?” Scorpius asked sleepily. 

Hermione and Draco pulled apart quickly, hands moving back to safer positions. 

“Scorpius, you should go up to bed. You’re exhausted.” Hermione tried to usher the boy upstairs but he shook his head. 

“Not now that we are getting close to the end of it. You have to keep going.” Scorpius cajoled in that soft sleepy voice that had always tugged at her heart. 

Draco gave Hermione a wry smile, pulling her into his lap as his arms circled her waist. “Shall we continue then?” 

“How did you manage to convince them not to contact me?” Hermione asked curiously.

He stroked the back of her arm up and down. “It was hard…”

“Let me go! We have to pack, we have to go home!” Tears streamed from Jeanette’s face as she struggled in William’s arms. Draco sent a pleading look to Madame Tsai, who calmly passed a small flask to the distraught woman. 

“Drink this, it’ll help.” 

“What is it?” Even in her state, Jeanette looked at the liquid skeptically. 

“Just a light calming potion, like the ones I’ve been giving you with your tea. Drink,” Madame Tsai insisted.

Jeanette gulped the floral, minty concoction down, gasping slightly. “We have to go, Hermione needs us,” she insisted, calmer this time. 

William wiped the tears from his wife’s face. 

“Please, Monica—” Draco tried to speak but her sharp eyes, so much like her daughter's, silenced him. 

“Jeanette. It’s Jeanette Granger.” 

“Jeanette, then. I’m sure this is overwhelming, but I just ask that you wait a little longer. To avoid anything going wrong, it’s better if you complete the course of treatment until the end before we introduce new variables,” Madame Tsai spoke on his behalf. “For now, just rest and recover. We will ensure your transition is as smooth as possible.” 

“She needs us. We’re her parents,” William insisted as he clutched his wife’s shoulders. 

Draco nodded. “We will reunite you all soon. I know it’s hard, but—”

“You don’t know anything! How could you?” Jeanette’s temper flared. “I remember you, you know. She used to talk about you. Your family, your house, the disgusting things you said to her.” 

Shame washed over Draco and he dropped his eyes to the floor. He sat back onto his heels and took a breath before speaking. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Granger. I will never be able to apologise enough for my past. I was a foolish, selfish boy who didn’t care about anyone else but myself. It is a regret I will carry for the rest of my life.” The room was silent as he paused. “Your daughter saved me. I owe her everything. That’s why I’m here now. I don’t have a right to be any part of her life anymore, after everything I’ve done. But I can at least do this.” He forced himself to look back up. 

The fire in Jeanette’s eyes seared into Draco’s soul. “Just get us back to our daughter.” 

His nose had long-since grown accustomed to the musty odor surrounding him. Damp walls met filthy floors. He sat in the corner, trying to press himself into the walls as if he could melt into them. The omnipresent chill in the air grew a fraction more icy, and he shivered. He could barely see, but he didn’t need eyes to know what was coming, or where he was. Distant cries of anguish and pleas of despair grew louder as the spectres floated through the halls. They fed off of hopelessness and fear. They took all of it and gave him more with each pass. Childhood nightmares were nothing compared to the images the Dementors drew out of his mind during every ‘routine’ inspection.

A banging on the metal door barely made him flinch. “Inspection,” a muffled voice called out, and then a quick shuffling to the side as the door unlocked. 

Ice formed on the walls of his cell, and he scrambled to stop leaning, lest he freeze himself onto it. The first time it had happened had been a harrowing experience. It had taken nearly an hour for his own body heat to defrost the mixture of cold sweat and humid condensation that had frozen the backs of his arms to the wall.

It was entering his cell. Draco’s Occlumency shields wouldn’t hold up, not after he’d been subjected to questioning just earlier that day. He shut his eyes as if he could will the images away, but the disgusting gaping hole lined with rotting teeth ghosted its rancid breath onto his face, sucking his darkest fears out of him. 

Disembodied screams echoed in his head, growing louder with each moment as the Dementor inhaled the scent of his fear. Hermione, his mother, Professor Snape.All crying out in pain under the Crucio. Theo, choking on his own bile as he screamed for mercy under his father’s beatings. 

The visions came quickly. Images of his mother writhing on their marble floors as Lucius stared helplessly turned into Hermione as Bellatrix cackled. All the while, Draco could only watch. Always, always watching.

“Please, please stop this. I can’t do this anymore. Someone, please. Please!” Draco pleaded. 

The shadowy figure of a guard stood outside his open cell door. Draco reached an arm out as he collapsed on the floor. His strength was fading. He squirmed on the floor fruitlessly as he attempted to get away. Miraculously, the shadowy figure reached for him. Stepping closer, the figure stepped into the dim glow of Draco’s soul being slowly sucked out of his body. 

“I’ll do anything.” He promised desperately. He looked up into her face.

“Do you even deserve to be saved?” Hermione Granger asked, her eyes glowing in the dark. She turned to the Dementor. “Do it.”

All hope deserted him. Darkness clouded his vision and he collapsed as the Dementor’s Kiss came swiftly.

Draco rose from his nightmare like an anchor being pulled from the ocean floor. Catching sight of his mother’s Christmas card sitting on the bedside table of his hotel room, he sighed. They returned to London soon. He would be home He scoffed, scrubbing his face. Home. Could he even call it that anymore?

The return journey weeks later was smooth. Draco had planned for every contingency. 

They flew via aeroplane, a Muggle invention.Jeanette softened toward him at the sight of his white knuckles and equally ghostly pallor upon takeoff.

“Come now. It’s perfectly safe. Muggles have been doing this for decades.” She smirked, patting his hand.  Her smirk grew cheeky as he flinched at the touch. His silver-grey eyes flashed with fear at each bump.  Leaning back, she sighed. “You even brought us into business class. Look how much room we have to stretch out.”

“This isn’t natural. Humans weren’t meant to be in a metal box,.” Draco muttered.

“Don’t you ride on brooms? How is this unsafe by comparison? It’s not as if you have safety belts on those.” William grinned as he closed the overhead compartment before settling into his seat. 

Draco squinted incredulously at the flimsy fabric and metal buckle sat over his hips. What good is that going to be if we’re crushed when we land? Another pat on his hand jolted him in his seat.

“Better take a nap. We’ll be up here for a few hours.” Jeanette made a show of closing her eyes, a small smile still playing on her lips.

Hours later, they were off the blasted metal box and standing in front of—

“Where are we?” Jeanette asked.

“Come on then.” Draco smiled as he opened the door to a house unfamiliar to the Grangers. 

Finding a home so close to their old house had been a spark of good fortune for him. His initial temptation to buy out the previous owners of the old Granger residence had been quickly discarded when he recalled the events that had taken place in that home. Better to start fresh. And so they did. 

William took it all in as he stepped into the house, freshly renovated in a style similar to their old home. He wondered briefly how Draco knew what to choose.

After a quick lunch and Draco’s goodbye to give them space, they set about unpacking. Madame Tsai insisted on staying for another observation with them. 

That’s where it all went wrong.

One moment William was reaching for a box.The next, he had frozen in his spot.

“William? Are you alright?” Jeanette eyed her husband’s back. She watched as he slowly turned, eyes glassy and unfocused. “Will?”

“It’s nothing, Mon. I’m just feeling a bit strange.” His eyes landed on Madame Tsai, and he frowned. “My apologies. Who are you?”

Madame Tsai exchanged worried looks with Jeanette before retreating to the kitchen. A Patronus message later, Draco was at the front door.

“What’s happened?” He asked immediately, shucking his shoes off.

“We have had a relapse.” She shook her head gravely and nodded to the Grangers’ new living room. 

“Draco?” Jeanette called to him, her eyes wide as she crouched next to her husband who had become still.

Kneeling, he placed a reassuring hand on her back. “It’s alright. William, do you—”

“It’s Wendell, actually. I’m sorry, who are you? How did you get into my house—wait, this isn’t my house. Where am I?” William’s face screwed up in confusion, his eyes flitting between the occupants of the room.

“Here, drink this. It will help.” Madame Tsai returned his mug to his hand, having added a small dose of his potion mixture. 

The others exchanged glances, only one thought in each of their eyes.

The reunion with Hermione would have to wait.

“Master Snape.” 

“Yes, Apprentice Granger?” 

Severus’ voice was muffled from behind the veil shield as he watched her prepare for their latest practical trial. A shiver of delight slipped down her spine as it always did when he used her title. Each time reminded her that she had finally earned his respect, after nearly a decade of trying. 

Hermione pressed down the smile blooming on her face and stepped through the veil shield to stand next to him. 

“I suppose you’re not coming to the Anniversary Gala at the Ministry?” 

Severus shot her a bored look. “Apprentice Granger, I believe I taught you in first year not to ask questions you already know the answers to. No, I have better things to do than attend such a ludicrous display.” 

“Would those ‘better things’ include Poppy, by any chance?” Hermione let her smile slip through. 

He pursed his lips and nodded to the cauldron several feet away. “Release the vial into the cauldron at a speed of—“

“—five drops per second, yes I remember, sir.” Hermione grinned. Concentrating on the vial, she used her wand to decant it into the simmering cauldron below. Both master and apprentice leaned in as close as they could without disrupting the veil, watching intently. In seconds, the vial was empty, but the cauldron was steadily turning into a disgusting shade of bile, with chunky bits forming. Hermione dropped her wand into her pocket with a sigh. 

“Well, that was a failure.” 

“Indeed.” Severus lowered the veil before levitating the useless mixture into the hazardous waste cubicle, destroying it with an Incendio from afar. His dark eyes cast back to his brightest student. He had warned her to not get her hopes up, but even he felt a twinge of disappointment as months of research was reduced to ash. He laid a hand on her shoulder. “With every wrong turn, we increase our chances of finding the correct solution.” 

Hermione tipped her head up to meet his gaze, and tried to smile. “Of course. Thank you, sir.” She blew out a sigh. “I don’t know how you did it, Master. Persevering through it all, when hope was almost lost…”

“We must endure.” Severus reminded his apprentice quietly. “If not for ourselves, then for those we have lost.”

Hermione nodded. Her mind conjured the last photo she’d seen of Draco, sallow and withdrawn. “Has he contacted you, sir?” 

“No. Narcissa says he’s been out of the country.” 

“Oh.” 

“Quite.”

Ministry Gala, London

“Viktor, can you zip me up please?” Hermione knocked on his bedroom door before entering. 

An outfit was floating above his floor-length mirror, burgundy to match her robes, with gold and black accent trim along the hems of his cloak. Her fingers glided over the expensive fabric and she let out a sigh. Why couldn’t it be you? The adjoining bathroom door opening made her turn away, the growing ache in her chest subsiding momentarily. 

“Vidra.” Viktor dropped the towel onto his shoulder as he walked into his room. His hair mussed, droplets of water still dripping into the coarse hair covering his chest. A bath towel hung loosely over his hips, opening slightly at the end with each step he took towards her. “Sazhalyavam (I’m sorry). Did you need me?” 

Hermione smiled, unfazed. Turning back around, she pointed to her back. “Could you help me please?” 

Her Muggle dress, chosen as a sign of progress and victory against the Dark, clung to her shoulders by thin straps. Cascading from a sweetheart neckline into a floor length dress, the ombré effect transitioned from burgundy to black, with crystal overlay sparkling over it all to create an ethereal starry-night effect. 

“Of course.” Viktor’s large hands gently handled the delicate, discreet zipper before dropping to her waist. Turning them both to the mirror, his eyes darkened as he looked her over. “Beautiful.”  

Hermione smiled, soaking in his warmth as she tried to push aside the emptiness she felt. Her eyes drifted closed as she leaned against his chest. A spot of dampness here or there would quickly dry. A shudder ran through her as his lips pressed against her cheek, and for a moment she let herself go. Lifting her face, she kissed him. 

Here they were again, his hands dropping to cup her butt through her dress as her fingers curled into his damp hair. His lips left hers, making her moan as he licked her ear the way she liked. How many times could they keep doing this? Stuck together out of loyalty, tied together by a mutual understanding that went beyond any ordinary friendship. Friends with benefits? No, they were more than that. Lovers? That was closer. But they both knew the truth.

“Minny, we must finish getting ready if we are to arrive on time. You have a speech, yes?” Viktor groaned into her flushed neck. His fingers dug into her dress, just hard enough to grasp but not tear the delicate tulle. Despite his words, his tongue swiped over her pulse point before he buried his nose into her hair. 

Hermione,was melting in his arms. Just a moment longer, she begged him in her mind. Let the voices go silent just a little longer. Her fingers drew back from his head, tumbling into his thicket of chest hair and down to his towel-covered hips. Pulling the towel down, she hummed at the feel of him growing in her hand. 

“Vidra! Now?” Viktor hissed, but she didn’t care. 

Rubbing him as he grew, she watched his face. “Please, Vik. I need this.” 

Their eyes met for hardly a second before he pulled away. Disappointment had no time to set in before she was moved toward the bed while his hand slipped the zipper back down. 

“Lay down.” He ordered, pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulder as he pulled the straps down. 

She shivered and stepped out of her gown, crawling into bed and flipping over. She watched as Viktor, hard and tanned and gorgeous, climbed into the bed. His hands grasped her ankles, he pulled her toward him sharply, making her yelp in surprise. Adrenaline pumped through her as she watched his head lower between her legs until all that was visible was his tousled hair. A confident lick later and she was squeezing her thighs over his shoulders. 

“Keep open.” Viktor’s voice held the note of a thinly-veiled threat, and she bit her lip. 

Ten minutes and two very quick orgasms later, she was boneless and buzzing on the bed, but ready for more. 

“Come, Minny. Up.” Viktor leaned over her, kissing her gently. 

She drew her legs up, crossing them over his back as she tried to draw him down, but he refused to budge. She let out a sigh, pouting. She wasn’t ready to leave just yet. 

“Vidra. Come.” Viktor’s voice grew insistent, but she ignored it. “Fine.” He loomed over her, smirking. A second later, a calloused finger drew through her folds, gathering up her moisture as it made its way up to her bud. “Is this what you need, Hermione?” He murmured into her ear as he teased her slowly. 

Groaning, she pulled him into a dizzying kiss, her hips already beginning to rock. Oh, but he was going achingly slowly. 

“Faster,” she whined, writhing when his lips pulled away and dropped to her nipple. The finger on her clit was replaced by a thumb as it began to pump into her. His tongue, precise and deft in all the right ways, swirled around the tip of her nipple before teeth gently bit down, making her gasp. She was rising quickly. He knew just what to do to—and then he was gone.

“Wh-what?” Hermione looked around. Viktor was walking over to the floating outfit, summoning his clothes. “Viktor?” 

“Tonight, I will finish what I started. If you behave.” His eyes flashed in the mirror as he buttoned his simple black shirt. 

Her cunt throbbed with need and she closed her thighs, rubbing them together. The promise of his reward was too delectable to ignore. His eyebrows raised and he turned back to her after buttoning up his trousers. 

“Will you behave, my vidra?” He asked. 

She took him in, black on black, regal and powerful, with a dragon-leather belt in his hand, and she gulped. 

“I’ll behave.” 

Viktor’s face stayed impassive as he walked to her. His fingers gripped her chin, tilting her head up. The scent of her fluids entered her nostrils and she flushed pink. A small smile flitted over his face before he let her go. 

“Good girl,” he purred. 

Her eyes widened at him lifting his fingers to his nose, inhaling sharply. He sucked them each in turn, finishing with his thumb, as he kept steady eye contact with her. “Delicious. I look forward to tasting more. Now up, before we are late.” 

Face hot, she pressed her thighs together once more. 

Less than an hour later, they were stepping into the Ministry’s freshly-renovated ballroom in the belly of the building. Hermione steeled herself for the inevitable. Her hands trembled slightly as she smoothed her dress down and squeezed Viktor’s arm. 

“Nervous?” Viktor asked quietly. She gave him a watery smile, and he patted her hand. “I will protect you.” His effortless confidence soothed her nerves.

She nodded. “Alright. Let’s go.”

 “Well, that was…something,” Pansy muttered as Hermione rushed off the stage, ducking her head sheepishly. What had started out as a speech filled with sweet tributes had turned into a Golden Girl lecture when Rita Skeeter, of all people, had piped in mid-speech to ask Hermione’s thoughts on Draco Malfoy’s notable absence from the festivities. Caught like a deer in headlights, Hermione had launched into a tirade so brutal that her hair had begun sparking from the ends of its tightly-coiled ringlets. 

“Ugh. Was it as bad as I think it was?” Hermione groaned. She grabbed a glass of Muggle champagne from a nearby tray and downed it in one. 

“Worse, probably,” Theo said cheerfully, clapping her shoulder despite Harry whacking the back of his head. “Ow!” 

“You deserve that,” Harry retorted. “It wasn’t so bad.” He smiled weakly at her. 

“Yeah, remember when she yelled at us about S.P.E.W? Now that was bad,” Ron chortled, and the group laughed good-naturedly. 

Hermione turned her head, eyes scanning the room until she found Viktor standing next to a French delegate who was overtly eying him. Frowning slightly, she sipped her second champagne but remained where she was. They were implicitly monogamous, but he wasn’t hers. What he told others, she had no idea. But she certainly wasn’t going to walk up to them and stake her claim on him. No, she had no right to do that. Not when they both knew exactly where they stood with each other. 

“Ah, the Golden Trio, as you call it. Kit Gerrard, for the Prophet.” A portly man weaved his way out of the crowd toward the group, eyes gleaming with mischief. Waving a photographer over, he turned to them. “A picture, if you would? Just you three, please.” He tugged on Hermione’s hand, stationing her between Harry and Ron. The three bristled as Theo, Pansy, and Blaise were pushed to the side. 

“Oi!” Ron said indignantly, squinting at the flashing bulb of the camera. 

“Alright, big smiles all around. There, that’s it.” Kit smiled cheerfully as he waved for the photographer to continue. “Miss Granger. We’ve all heard your harrowing testimony of what happened in Malfoy Manor.” 

Hermione’s skin began to crawl, both boys stiffening before protectively moving closer to her on instinct. Oh no. That’s why he had insisted on this photo. She scolded herself for not being more cautious. To the side, she saw the Slytherins bristle. Theo’s usually-merry face slid blank, Pansy’s scowl grew, while Blaise’s own turned stony. 

“How do you feel knowing that your friends are associating with accused Death Eaters, and that the nephew of your former-torturer, Bellatrix Lestrange, walks free because of your testimony? Do you worry that he has had a change of heart in Azkaban and may come after you?” Kit’s voice remained upbeat as he danced around them, beckoning the photographer to continue. 

Hermione met his gaze and saw the unmistakable look of greed and madness. Stepping forward, she hissed, “They were acquitted, and are contributing members of society. Unlike you.” 

“Any comment about Mr. Malfoy?” Kit was relentless, eyes trained on hers. 

Movement around her dimmed from her focus as she took another step forward. “Draco Malfoy served his time. What he does with his freedom is of no concern to me. I’m not his keeper.” She ignored the way the last part cracked her chest. 

Kit wasn’t backing down. “If Mr. Malfoy had nothing to hide, he would be here showing it to the world. Wouldn’t you agree? After all, that’s what you’re doing,” he sneered. 

“Why, you—” Pansy snarled, held back by Theo. 

At the same time, Harry launched himself at Kit, punching him in the jaw. Hermione fumed at the sight of the man theatrically crumpled to the floor as if he’d received a mortal wound.

“You hit me!” Kit wailed. 

“You deserved it,” Harry growled. “Besides, I’m the bloody Chosen One. Who’s going to stop me?” He raised his eyes to meet Kingsley’s amused gaze. 

Aurors lifted Kit off the floor, ready to escort him out. “Looks like the Golden Girl still needs to be saved after all,” Kit taunted, and Hermione wondered if he’d completely lost all sense. 

“Hermione Granger is more than the Golden Girl. And she is certainly more than the likes of you.” Viktor’s deep voice came from behind her, his hand pressing to her lower back. They watched Kit get escorted out of the ballroom before breathing a sigh of relief. “Are you alright, vidra?” he asked, bending low to murmur in her ear. 

“She’s more than alright. She was great!” Ron laughed as he curled his hand over Pansy’s waist. 

“Me? What about Mr. ‘I’m the bloody Chosen One’ over here?” Hermione giggled.

Theo kissed Harry’s forehead, whispering “I’m taking the Chosen One to bed tonight, right?” 

Harry blushed, sputtering into his champagne. 

“Vidra.” Hermione’s attention drew back to Viktor, and she smiled as he brushed his lips over the back of her hand. “Shall we dance?” 

Looking over at the dancing floor, she finally heard the familiar strains of music from the year of the Hogwarts-hosted Triwizard Tournament. She nodded, biting her lip. “I would love to.”

Dancing with Viktor came as easily as remembering Für Elise on the piano. After a few steps, they were flowing across the floor. Her dress shimmered under the chandelier of floating candles, and his gold accents glinted in response. They matched with every dip, rise, and turn. His grip loosened on her waist as she naturally slipped into his space. It was instinct. 

“Are you really alright, Minny?” Viktor asked after she returned to his embrace, her back against his front.

She swirled around and placed a hand on his chest. “I think so. I just don’t understand why he was so persistent. Even Rita wasn’t this bad, not in public.” 

“I hear he is looking to become like Ms. Skeeter. Perhaps that is why,” Viktor mused. 

“Perhaps. I’m sorry for pulling you away from your friend. Was that the French delegate?” Hermione couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out if she tried.

Viktor’s eyes searched hers for a moment as they swayed during a lull. “She was… nice. But we are just friends.” 

“Of course.” Hermione nodded hastily. Friends, like the way we are? “I understand.” These feelings were becoming unmanageable and unfair. A lump of shame threatened to block her airway and she hastily pulled away at the end of the song. “I’m sorry, Vik. I just need a moment.” 

“Vidra, wait.” Viktor caught her hand just before she could escape. “I meant it. We are just friends.” He frowned, as if he was trying to understand a puzzle. Giving him her best fake smile.

She nodded, pulling away. 

Run, hide, escape. The walls surrounding her felt like they were caving in. She burst out of the ballroom into a separate, thankfully empty, seating area. Collapsing into a chair, she covered her face with her hands. Oh, what a fool she was. 

What was she doing to them both? Viktor was good and kind. He was everything she wanted. He was more than the Quidditch athlete that he had been all those years ago. His quiet intelligence and naturally inquisitive nature shone in the privacy of their flat, often sending Hermione into crying fits of laughter at his questions about her potions mastery. 

He was the one who held her in his arms when she had yet another failure in the lab. 

He was the one who soothed her mind when she felt overwhelmed. 

And yet, he was not who she needed. 

“Herminny?” Viktor peered into the room. His heart sank at the sight of her. “Oh, vidra.” He kneeled down, gathering her in his arms and pulling her down to the floor with him. They sat there silently as he stroked her back.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered into his shoulder. 

“For what?” he asked. 

“For… this. All of this. I’ve made a mess of everything.” Hermione waved her arms, her voice growing shrill as hysteria began to set. Tears pricked her eyes but before they could grow, Viktor laid a finger over her lips. 

“You made a mess of nothing, vidra. I’m with you. I promised to be with you, didn’t I?” 

“Yes, but now I’m getting jealous, and we’re just friends, and you have other friends, and I don’t know if they’re your friends like you and I are friends, or if they’re friends like me and Harry and Ron, and I can’t just let it go and—” Hermione rambled as she shook her head, unable to stop herself. 

“And?” Viktor asked, amused. 

“And… and… well, and it’s not fair to you!” Hermione cried out, somehow losing steam at his chuckle. 

“Vidra, I’m, how you say, flattered. You are jealous because of me? I love it. Be more jealous.” He smirked, tapping her nose lightly. 

“Viktor! I’m not—” Hermione said indignantly. 

“Ah, now it’s my turn to speak.” Viktor cut her off smoothly. “Aimée is a friend. A good friend, but just a friend. Like you and Harry and Ron. Okay?” 

“Okay.” Hermione didn’t even try to hide the relief from her face. A niggling sense of doubt squirmed in her chest, making her feel itchy. “But, isn’t this wrong? It’s not fair for me to want this when I can’t give you more.” She lowered her gaze to her hands, gripping themselves tightly. 

“Mm,” Viktor hummed. “I think ‘fair’ is a difficult concept. Perhaps we consider what feels right. Does this feel right, Hermione?” he asked her seriously, stressing her full name as he cupped her face. 

She looked up at him, dark brown eyes offering everything she needed but one. Was this enough? For now, a voice whispered. But not forever, another reminded her. Closing her eyes, she began to pull away. 

“Vidra, stop thinking about the future,” Viktor ordered, stilling her. “What do you want, right now?” 

Hermione hesitated. Then, “You.” 

His lips pressed against hers, swallowing her moan as he pulled her to him. “Then you shall have me,” he whispered against her lips. A sharp tug later, they were stumbling into the flat, hands roaming. “Yours or mine?” he asked, voice rough. 

“Yours,” she said breathlessly. 

He nodded curtly and swooped her up over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

“Vik!” Hermione laughed, flailing her legs. 

A swift smack on her backside made her yelp. “Stay still,” he ordered playfully.

“Where did Hermione go? I wanted to ask her about how it is working with old Snape,” Ron asked, glancing around. 

Pansy plucked the glass out of his hand, draining it before setting it down. “Who knows? Dance with me, Weasley.” 

“Mm, Parkinson.” Ron smirked even as his ears tinged pink.

Throwing her to the bed, he nodded. “On your front.” 

A rush came over her at his simple command, and she did as told. Crawling over her, she arched her back as his beard tickled her bare shoulder blade. She felt his lips move against her skin a second before her clothes vanished and reappeared draped over a chair. Satisfied, he licked a path up the column of her neck. “Sit on the end of the bed.” His voice was gravelly, making her shudder. 

She slipped the dress from her body, draping it over his chair before sitting at the foot of the bed. 

Viktor watched Hermione claim her spot. “You wanted me? You will have me.” A beautiful ruby flush rose on her cheeks and he forced himself not to rush her. The end would be that much more exhilarating if he drew it out. “Eyes on me, vidra.”  

Hermione watched his hands deftly flick gold cufflinks to the floor before buttons began to slip out of place. Her chest rose faster as his eyes, heavy with lust, wandered down her lingerie-clad body. He usually looked at her like he wanted to savour her. Now, he looked like he wanted to ravage her.

“Vidra, were you good for me at the gala?” Viktor asked, his voice low and steady. 

“Yes. I was good.” 

He was shirtless in front of her, unbuckling his belt. Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as she watched, transfixed. 

“Mm. I think so too. You were, how you say, brilliant.” Viktor’s trousers fell, his pants the only barrier remaining between her face and his thick member. 

Her eyes drifted down from his face to take him in. Slightly musky after the rigorous dance, but subtle cologne still remained. Swallowing, she licked her lips and glanced up again. 

He grasped her chin in his hand, stroking her cheek. “Eyes on the mirror, now.” 

She glanced at the mirror, blushing as she watched him crouch between her legs. 

“Silk?” He dipped a finger under the string of her knickers. His callouses rubbed against the tender skin of her hips, moving down to the fabric-covered mound as he spread her legs further. 

“Mm, yes,” she mumbled. His head pressed between her legs, and she jolted at the feel of his tongue on her inner-most thigh. 

“You make it beautiful,” he purred, his words making her eyes drift shut. “Open your eyes, vidra. You deserve to see how beautiful you are.” 

“Viktor, I’ve been waiting for you. I was good for you,” Hermione whimpered. Her hand carefully cupped his head, pressing him closer to the target. Another low laugh made her groan. 

“Mi vidra has no patience,” he teased. A second later, the flimsy fabric was cut on each side, leaving it torn on the bed as she sat bare before him. 

“Vik!” she cried out in mild protest.

“I will buy you a hundred of them, Minny. Now, let me have my feast. I am hungry, you see.” Viktor gave her no time to process before diving in. 

Arching her back, Hermione cried out and gripped his head as he lapped against her. The previous flame reignited between her legs and there was no escape this time. Fingers soon joined his eager tongue, and she clenched around them as they slid easily into her. 

“Listen to how wet you are for me, vidra,” Viktor groaned as he kissed her thighs. Raising himself, he slowly kissed up to her chest, teasing a nipple between his fingers as he sucked on the other. “Are you watching, Minny? Are you watching yourself?” 

“Y-yes, Vik!” Hermione whimpered. She was so close. 

“I can feel you, vidra. You are close.” Viktor’s hot breath brushed over her shoulder, raising goosebumps. 

Her hips were rocking, the pressure mounting. She bit her lip, moaning as her fingers dug into his back. 

Grunting, he chuckled into her jaw. “Mi vidra has claws.” His voice glowed with pride, sending her over the edge as he whispered sweet but incomprehensible Bulgarian phrases in her ear. 

Panting, she clutched Viktor to her, swinging over his hips as she pulled him into a deep kiss. “More. Now,” she muttered urgently into his mouth, smiling when he laughed. 

“Don’t worry, Minny. I don’t plan on holding back.” His eyes glinted as his hands began to roam. 

Her whole body ached. The cold, hard tile against her back was nothing when she’d been flung against the walls and smashed to the floor more times than she was willing to count. Her voice was raw, her throat like sandpaper. Tears blurred her vision and her arm burned like it had been branded. Her Occlumency walls were breaking. Professor Snape’s lessons were failing. She was a failure. Always a failure. 

“That’s right, girl. You’re a failure. Always a failure,” Bellatrix hissed above her, pacing. “You failed to keep your parents safe. You failed to keep Harry Potter safe. You couldn’t even help them escape!”

“No, no!” Hermione screamed. Distantly, she heard a voice.

“Minny? Minny, wake up.” It faded away.

“Useless girl. You will never be safe again. Your parents will never remember you. Draco will never want you. Viktor will leave you.” 

“Don’t listen to the voices, mi vidra. Come, wake now.” 

“And you will die. Alone.” Bellatrix’s cackle expanded until it was the only thing she could hear. 

“No! Someone, help! Anyone, please! Viktor, HELP ME!” Hermione gasped, ripping off the blankets that clung too tightly and suffocated her. Throwing her legs over the side of Viktor’s bed, she sucked in deep breaths as she tried to calm her racing heart. Gentle hands laid on her back and she closed her eyes. 

“Bellatrix?” Viktor asked quietly. 

She nodded. She turned and pressed her cheek to his bare chest, hot tears falling as she sobbed into him. His hands pulled her over and she curled into his lap as he rocked her. 

“I couldn’t save the—them,” she hiccupped. “I couldn’t heal their minds and now they’re gone. And what’s worse, I haven’t been back to see them since—since—since—!” She dissolved into tears at the memory of her mother’s accusatory look when the spell had failed. 

“Remember what the Healer said. It could do more harm to stay than leave.” Viktor reminded her, massaging her tense neck with one hand as he stroked her arm with the other. 

Hermione nodded, remembering the day she’d shown Viktor the letter. That had been the first night he’d let her stay in his bed, to sleep only. 

Nodding she sighed. The thought of never seeing her parents again broke her heart but she knew that she couldn’t risk their fractured minds breaking beyond repair. She recalled Lockhart’s misuse of the Obliviation spell, and shuddered at the result. No, this way they at least had a chance at a fulfilling life. 

Even if it was without her.

SPOTTED:  Draco and Narcissa Malfoy, Former Hosts to You-Know-Who, Dared to Step Out into Diagon Alley

By: Rita Skeeter

Draco sipped his tea, glancing away from the Prophet’s front page. “Mother, can you put that rag away, please?” 

“This ‘rag’, Draco, is what is going to bring our family name back into the good graces of society,” Narcissa said primly as she waved Neli away from adding more butter to her toast. “You have been home for weeks. Yet you’ve holed yourself in the Manor or flitted off to your secret errands—no, I have respected your privacy, darling—” Narcissa held up a delicate finger to stop Draco’s interruption before she continued. “—but it is high time that you come to terms with it. For better or worse, you are the Malfoy heir. As your father can no longer see to our needs, the responsibility falls to you. You were educated for this. Darling, it’s time to grow up.” 

“‘Grow up’?” Draco’s silver eyes flashed for a moment. “Lest you forget, Mother, I grew up plenty during the war. Even more so after going to Azkaban prison!” 

“And yet, here you sit. Where are your investments? Where are your securities? What skills do you have that you can market to the public should our coffers shrink?” 

Draco scoffed. “Mother, don’t try and pretend that this is about something as mundane as money. We both know that the Malfoy name holds so many patents and trademarks that we could spend 100,000 Galleons a day and we would still be well off for two generations, at least. No, when you talk about society, you mean marriage.” He bit into his crepes, savouring the decadence that he’d given up hope of ever eating just a year ago. “Well?” 

Narcissa scrutinized her son. “Marriage is not something to scoff at, Draco. The right agreement, the right proposal, it can make all the difference in the world.” Her fingers grazed her wedding ring, mourning the loss of her own marriage. Lucius had forsaken everything in the end. His blind rage after the battle had been the final blow that had sealed his fate. 

“Mother. I’m not getting married.” Draco dabbed the corners of his lips and placed his napkin as his breeding required. Standing up, he looked over at her. “Who would want to marry a former Death Eater anyway?” 

Narcissa watched her son walk out of the breakfast room. 

“Leave that to me, darling.”

Draco maintained an impassive look as he ducked into Ollivander’s. Looking around, he breathed a sigh of relief at the empty room. His eyes caught sight of a folded up copy of the Prophet. 

“I’M NOT HIS KEEPER!” Golden Girl’s Outburst in Ministry Gala: Change of Heart or Sudden Guilt?

By: Kit Gerrard

Scanning the article, Draco’s throat constricted as his name popped out.

“Mr. Malfoy. What are you doing here?” Ollivander’s frail voice made Draco cringe as he turned to face the man he’d been looking for. 

“Mr. Ollivander.” Draco took in a breath. The words he’d been practicing got stuck before he could begin. 

“Mr. Malfoy? What’s wrong?” Ollivander’s eyes widened as he hobbled to stand in front of him. 

The lump grew with each passing second, and Draco’s eyes finally dropped in shame. 

“I’m sorry. Mr. Ollivander, I’m so sorry for what happened in the Manor. I never—I didn’t…” Draco took in a shaky breath. 

“Dear boy. Look at me.” Ollivander smiled at him. “I recall many things from those days. I remember you asking for mercy on my behalf. I remember you sending your house-elves to tend to our injuries. I remember the potent salves you gave me.” Ollivander’s knowing eyes twinkled. “When faced with an impossible choice, you chose the light even from within the shadows.” 

The heavy weight of regret and shame lessened on his shoulders as Draco absorbed the man’s words. Acceptance from a man tortured on his floors was never something he’d thought possible. Yet, here it was. If he can forgive me… He shook his head free of the thought before it could settle and take root. Nodding, he turned away. 

“Thank you, Mr. Ollivander.” He strode out of the Wandmaker’s shop, ready to visit the Grangers once more to see their progress.

Chapter Text

“Weak, just like your father!” Bellatrix’s shrill voice made his head ache. 

Groaning, he winced at the residual Crucio aches. He had run out of potions, having surreptitiously given them to the Carrows’ worse-off victims. 

“Come now, don’t just wilt on the floor like a bloody Hufflepuff! I want to have more fun with you! Come now, Draco. Dance for me! Crucio!” Bellatrix crowed. 

Another Unforgivable seared his whole body aflame. His muscles corded with tension as he writhed on the floor, his voice raw. 

There was no hope. His Occlumency was failing. Draco drew blood as his teeth sank into his lip in despair. He was fading. 

“You’ll never be good enough.” Bellatrix hissed in his ear. “Look at what I found in your mind.” She tittered as she conjured up the Grangers, bound and gagged. “Itty bitty Draco thought he could save the Mudbloods? Oh, but it was for love!“ She spat out the word. “Loving that filthy Mudblood makes you unworthy of being a Malfoy, and a Black. What should we do with such a disgrace?” 

He steeled himself for the inevitable Crucio, but instead watched her point her wand at the Grangers. 

“No, stop. NO WAIT!” Draco moaned into his pillow, fingers twitching. 

“Say goodbye to your hope.” Bellatrix’s voice purred, a manic glee on her face. “Avada Kedavra!” 

“What are you moaning about now, girl?” Severus glanced over at his apprentice as she let out another heavy sigh. They had made progress in recent months, eliminating thirty methods of treatment. Two minds were better than one, and he was grateful for Apprentice Granger’s dogged enthusiasm. 

“I just feel like I’m missing something so important. Like it’s right in front of me, but I just can’t see it. It’s just out of reach and it’s driving me mad.” Hermione groused as she pressed her hand to her throbbing head. 

“We both know the perils of haste.” He reminded her calmly. 

“There’s something else, sir.” Rising from her chairs she came to his desk and sat in the seat across from him.

“What is it, Miss Granger?” 

She took in a breath and smiled. “Thank you, sir. You saved us more times that we could count, probably more times than we will ever know. Harry wanted you to hear it from him at the Ministry Gala, but of course you didn’t attend.” She shot him a reproachful look that he resolutely ignored. “Your bravery was-”

“Apprentice Granger.” Severus cut in smoothly. “What happened is now in the past. Your gratitude is noted but unnecessary.” He held up a hand when she started to protest, sweeping his hand at their scattered work. “Your actions speak for themselves.” He watched in amusement as she beamed at him. He would never say something as mundane as the notion that he was proud of her, but he knew she would understand.

“Shall we continue?” He asked instead. 

Poppy sighed, slamming the file closed with a tsk as she massaged her head. Her fingers twitched and she glanced at the cupboard of medicine. She had several headache relieving potions left, but she really should save them for her patients. Shaking her head, she unpinned her Mediwitch cap and rifled her fingers through her greying curls. 

“Long day?”

“Oh!” She jumped in her seat and turned to find Severus leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pocket. “Severus, you frightened me!” 

“Really, Poppy? How do you manage to remain so easily startled?” Severus glided into her office with a ghost of a smile on his lips. 

The older woman tutted, shaking her head. “I suppose I have a lot on my mind. The end of the school year is always difficult, you know.” She turned away from the man, busying herself reorganising her cupboard. 

“So nothing out of the ordinary then?” Severus asked, sitting in front of her desk. 

“No, nothing new.” She came back to him, lifting his chin up slightly as she examined his neck scars. “How’s the pain today?”

“It remains the same as before. Four.” Severus fixed his eyes on a point on the wall just over her shoulder. 

“And you're still being stubborn? Refusing to take pain relief?”

“I’m fine. I can handle myself,” Severus said curtly, ignoring her pointed look and scoff. 

Poppy clucked her tongue and muttered under her breath as she turned away to write her notes, perching on her desk. “Reckless spies.” 

“Poppy.” Severus stood up and stilled her hand, pulling her to face him again. “I am fine.” 

She froze as his hand skimmed her cheek, cupping her face. The gentle caress sent a shiver through her but it was nothing compared to the heat behind Severus’ gaze. Blinking, her eyes flickered down to his lips and she blushed when his lips quirked up. She was caught.

Severus felt the quiver in his chest grow as he leaned down, watching for any sign of hesitation. Finding none, he leaned in until he was looming over her, their breaths mingling. Her lashes were fluttering, lips parted, and he took his chance. “Poppy…” he murmured before closing the gap. Swallowing her soft gasp, he kissed her chastely. 

Poppy felt like she was wading through a fog. The affection she’d harboured for the man had always been a tightly-guarded secret. Ridiculous, a woman of her age holding any sort of candle for a man nearly half her junior. It was inappropriate! And yet, she did. 

And he was kissing her. 

The realisation propelled her into action, pulling away with a gasp. “Severus!” 

Panting slightly, they stared at each other. Severus fought the urge to flee as embarrassment set into his bones. 

“Severus, I’m much too old for you. I’m nearly twice your age, for heaven’s sake!” Poppy balled her hands against the desk to keep from pressing her fingers to her mouth. Merlin, he had soft lips. She could still taste him, and she desperately wanted to lick her lips. 

“Is age your only reason?” Severus asked, still looming over her. 

“I—well, that is…” Poppy fumbled for her words. “Aren’t you bothered by it?” 

Severus barked a laugh. “Poppy, I was a spy for nearly half my life, working both for Albus and Voldemort himself. If you don’t mind my unscrupulous past and my inexperience,” his voice grew serious, “then I think I can overcome something as simple as age.” After a moment, he asked, “Can you forgive my past?” 

Poppy stared up at him. Her hand reached up to tuck a strand of his inky hair behind his ear, smiling. “I know who you are. That is enough.” 

Severus shut his eyes at her words, relief washing over him until a gentle press to his lips startled him to open them again. Poppy’s lips slid across his for only a moment before he groaned, cupping her face as he gathered her to himself. They clung to each other, Poppy taking the initiative to coax Severus’ mouth open with a swipe of her tongue, blushing as she relished how he melted against her. Her fingers clung to his robes, feeling the rigid body beneath that hummed with power as he suckled on her lip. Her knees were nudged apart by his and he stood between her legs, engulfing her in blackness. 

Pulling away to catch her breath, she looked up at him, taking in the redness high on his cheeks that surely matched her own. It had been a very long time since she’d had a good snog. By the looks of it, she hadn’t lost her touch. Still, she bit her lip. “It really doesn’t bother you? My age?” 

Severus licked his lips, noting how she tracked the movement. Taking her by the chin, he swooped down to press another, more languid kiss to her lips before speaking. “Perhaps I just like older women.” He smirked, pulling away as her lips goldfished in shock.

“‘Mione, you came!” Ron cheered, his sloshing glass lifted toward her as he caught sight of her entering the Leaky Cauldron. A cheer erupted from the gathering as the Trio were reunited. 

“Alright there, Granger?” Theo sidled over to her, pressing a Butterbeer into her hands. 

“Thanks, Theo. Yes, why?” Hermione winced as an elbow knocked into her back. Was it usually this crowded? 

“Haven’t seen you at one of these in a while. Thought old Vikky was keeping you chained to a bed,” Theo leered. Behind him, Harry rolled his eyes. 

“Viktor’s in the middle of the season warm-up, so he hasn’t been here for several days.” Hermione shrugged. 

“And how are things going with that? Spill the details, love.” Theo grinned. 

“Nothing to tell, Theo. We are just friends.” She parroted the sentence.

After the incident, she’d felt the change. She couldn’t use him anymore, not when she knew he wanted more. She’d slowly extricated herself from him until they truly were just friends. He’d never mentioned the change, letting her lead. Still, she never saw another person at the flat. Whether he had other confidantes now, he never spoke of them. She had a feeling he had reignited his correspondence with Aimée, and truthfully, she couldn’t blame him. 

“Everyone leaves.” A voice sounding suspiciously like Bellatrix hissed in her mind, making her shut her eyes. Breathing was becoming difficult. 

“Granger? You’re looking a little peaky.” Pansy eyed her warily. 

Hermione shook her head. Her shirt was too tight. The room was too full. Too much light. Too much noise. Too much! She smiled weakly as Harry’s face swam into view. “I must go. I’m sorry. Another time.” She bolted to the door, desperate to escape the crowd. 

“Run, little girl. Run. You’ll never run far enough to get away from me,” Bellatrix cackled in her mind. 

Her denim jacket chafed against her arms as she stumbled backwards over fallen castle walls and crumbled stone. Ron’s terrified mutters beside her weren’t helping. Harry was alive, but the snake was after them. 

“No… this isn’t happening. This wasn’t me,” Hermione moaned in her bed.

Kill the snake. Kill the snake, and then it’s over.

Hermione swallowed the bile threatening to escape. Her bones ached with tiredness. The mass writhing in front of them took shape, becoming Nagini. They had nowhere left to go. 

“Shit. Shit. Shit!” Ron yelped as they helped each other walk backwards down the castle steps. He caught her when she nearly fell into a hole through the floor. 

Nagini was advancing. 

Her eyes widened as the snake’s mouth unhinged in front of them. Ron twisted himself over her, blue eyes meeting hers. 

“Sorry, ‘Mione.” He flashed her a weak smile before his face twisted in pain as Nagini bit into his back. 

“Ron, no!” Hermione yelled into the void of her empty flat. Hands trembling, she grabbed her wand and ran to the Floo. She hesitated for a moment. Would he be with Pansy or at the Burrow? She made a judgment call. 

“Parkinson Manor.” 

Stepping out of the Floo, she looked around. She’d been here before, but never in the middle of the night. Was he here? 

“Who’s there? Show yourself—Granger?” Pansy’s wand hand dropped to her side as she noticed the dishevelled girl. 

“Ron,” Hermione croaked. Tears pricked her eyes. “I need Ron.” 

“‘Mione?” Ron stepped beside Pansy, blue eyes blurry with exhaustion. 

Hermione ran to him, a broken sob escaping her lips. Clutching his night shirt, she started to babble and explain her dream before dissolving into tears. Distantly, she felt herself steered toward a couch. She was safe. Pansy was safe. Ron was safe. The war was over. They were safe. 

“Neli, have you finished with the preparation?” Narcissa called, swiping her finger on the large glass table that stood in the centre of their foyer entrance. 

“Yes, Mistress. Neli is ready to serve when you tell her.” Neli popped into existence and bowed deeply. 

“What’s happening?” Draco asked as he walked down the grand staircase. 

“I’ve taken matters into my own hands. Since you insist on hiding in the shadows, I am bringing society to us.” Narcissa sniffed primly. 

“What have you done?” Draco’s voice sharpened. An insistent pressure on his inner wrist alerted him to the wards. Someone was requesting entry. 

“Ah, there they are. Neli, would you please guide the Greengrass’s to the solarium? We will join them shortly.” Narcissa said with authority.

“Mother—” Draco hissed, bristling.

“No. You will do this. If not for the family, or for yourself, then for me. Please.” Icy blue met steel grey as they stared each other down. 

“I will be cordial. That is all,” Draco muttered. 

Narcissa’s face smoothed into a smile. “Excellent.”

“Draco, if I recall correctly, you and Astoria shared some time at Hogwarts together,” Narcissa stated mildly, smiling at the poised young ladies before her. Such elegant girls. Daphne appeared to be spoken for already, but that was alright. Narcissa had her eye on the younger sister anyway. 

“Yes, Mrs. Malfoy. We only had one year together before I transferred from Beauxbatons, actually.” Astoria smiled gently. Her hands folded delicately on her lap. Genteel and delicate, like a flower. What kind of flower would remain to be seen, Narcissa noted to herself. 

“Beauxbatons? Really? Oh, my. Madame Olympe is quite the Headmistress, I hear. Did you enjoy your time there?” 

“I did. I really admire Madame Olympe. In fact, she was the one who suggested I pursue studies at Hogwarts.” 

“Why is that?” Narcissa picked up her teacup and sipped. 

“I have a knack for healing, it seems.” Astoria dropped her gaze demurely. “I intended to obtain a mastery in Mind Healing after completion of my studies. Of course, the war changed those plans.” She gasped slightly, raising her fingers to her lips. “My apologies for bringing up such a difficult topic of conversation. I forgot myself.” 

Narcissa shook her head. “We all suffered difficulties during the war. Difficult choices that were not our own.” The Greengrass patriarch, like Lucius, had been condemned to Azkaban. The matriarch had fled to Brazil, leaving Daphne to manage the household. 

They sat silently for a moment as each was consumed by their own thoughts. 

Narcissa glanced at Draco, frustrated at his stony silence. With a sigh, she stood up. “Shall we give you a tour of the Manor? You haven’t visited since you were toddlers. Much has been renovated since that time.” 

They slowly walked through the grounds, Draco stuffing his hands in his pockets as he hung back. He felt Astoria sidle next to him. Tensing, he waited for her to speak.

“Your mother has maintained the estate beautifully. Does she tend to the roses herself?”

Draco nodded. "The elves do the regular maintenance, but she handles those by herself.” 

“They’re lovely.” Astoria smiled. 

Shuttered behind his ever-present Occlumency walls, Draco braced himself for the expected curiosity. About his life, his time in Azkaban, his sudden absence from British Pureblood society after his release. 

Clasping her hands together, Astoria breathed in deeply. “Do you remember when we used to play sirens and seafarers as children?” She smiled wistfully. “Daph and I tried so hard to lure you and the boys to your doom.” 

His lips quirked. “You would screech at us when Theo and I started duelling with branches.”

Grinning, Astoria nodded. “Don’t tell Daph I told you, but she had the biggest crush on Blaise back then.” 

He looked over at her, a smirk crossing his face. “We knew.” The tightness in his chest eased slightly at her returning smile. 

They circled the grounds slowly before venturing inside. Roaming the halls, Astoria paused briefly to nod a polite greeting to the portraits that lined the walls. Draco let his feet guide without much thought, his mind moving to his most recent nightmare. His head throbbed with the threat of an oncoming headache, and he sighed.

"It's been so long since I've visited that I seem to have lost my inner map." Astoria joked as she glanced around. "What's in here?" She pressed against antique red oak doors that stood slightly ajar.

A chill skittered up his spine as the room opened itself up to guests. Draped in darkness, it was nearly impossible to see inside. And yet, he recognized it instantly. The drawing room.

"Oh…" Astoria's voice held a thread of shock as her steps echoed against the marble. She ventured deeper as Draco stood frozen outside the doors. Squinting in the darkness, she could make out vague shapes. "Do you mind if I Lumos?" She called over her shoulder, already reaching for her wand.

"No. Don't." Draco's voice was too low, too hoarse. He watched helplessly as she lifted her wand and said the spell.

Stark white light flooded a two-metre circle around her, the familiar carpet and furniture in the wretched room instantly illuminated. Draco's hand came up to grip the door handle as the memories cascaded into his head.

"There we go… Oh. Is this room no longer used?" Astoria turned slightly to cast the light against an unused Floo fireplace.

Screams he heard every night began to replay in his mind.The shrill cackles and whispered pleas overlapped into a cacophony of disarray. Stumbling back, his Occlumency walls began to crumble.

"Draco?" Astoria finally turned in time to see Draco's head fall to his chest, his shoulders hunching. "Draco!" Walking briskly to his side, she laid a hand on his arm.

Wrenching himself away, he snarled. "I'm fine!" He whirled around as a lump formed in his throat. He had to leave. Get out.

"I'm so sorry, Draco. Of course, I understand." Astoria apologetically wrung her hands as she watched him walk briskly away.

It wasn't until he'd arrived in his study, alone, that he realized that he must have said the words out loud.

Screaming. The endless screaming, over and over. Hermione’s broken pleas, begging for mercy. Draco cringed as shudders wracked his body, his mother's arms keeping him from crawling to Hermione's side.

"Tell the truth!" Bellatrix howled as she carved the girl's skin with her cursed blade.

Hopelessness blurred his vision but still he struggled to reach her.

"Let her go!" Draco muttered, sweat bursting from his forehead. His arms tangled in his silken bedsheets as he tossed in his bed.

A flash of red nearly blinded him and his voice broke as he screamed. "Hermione!"

His fingers twisted against the fabric until it tore in his grasp. 

"Hermione….no…no!"

"Take me instead…take me instead!" He sobbed in his mother's arms as he watched her blood soak into the floors.

"You?" Bellatrix turned her wand to him, eyes black with mania. "Why would I take you when taking her is so much more fun?"

"No!" Draco half-screamed as he finally rose from his nightmare. Sunlight shone through the crack between his curtains, sending a shimmer of gold across his legs. Reality made him slump back into his pillow with a sigh.

Tap. Tap tap.

Swallowing the foul taste of interrupted sleep from his mouth, he rubbed his hands against his stubbled jaw.

"Later." He mumbled. He tried to clear the haze out of his head. Whoever was knocking could wait.

Tap tap tap. The tapping grew insistent.

Scowling, he threw the shredded sheets off of him and strolled to his window. The familiar diminutive stature of Astoria's owl, Tabitha, was sitting there waiting. "You make an awful lot of noise for such a small creature." He mused. 

Tabitha simply tapped her beak on the window again, shaking her leg that carried both a letter and a shrunken tin. 

"Alright, alright." 

He unlatched the window, and the little ball of fluff flew in with an annoyed hoot. A vindictive gleam in her eye, she swooped down faster than a Firebolt and deftly pecked his head sharply. 

“Ow!” Draco yelped, waving his arms over his head. “Get away, bloody nuisance.” 

With a shake of her leg and a loud satisfied coo, Tabitha dropped the letter on his head and the small tin on the bed before going to her self-designated spot on his headboard.

Dear Draco,

I'll have you know that Tabi is a perfectly sensible name for a Northern Pygmy owl. As a gift from my father, she's been with me my whole life. I couldn't change her name now.

I hope you enjoyed the ginger jam biscuits I sent. Please tell me that you shared them with your mother instead of eating them all yourself! Sweets are meant to be shared, after all.

Have your dreams abated a little since we last spoke? I too found myself struggling with the expectations of family obligation until very recently. I'm sure you understand. I am grateful to have found that you're still very much the person I once knew. Reconnecting has been an invaluable gift. My studies have stalled for the moment, unfortunately, as I search for a mentor who can look past my name. As much as I rely on it, I would like to make my own way in this new world that we live in.

Enough of my contemplations.

When I thought of what to make this time, I tried my hand a little at making Parisian-style macarons. There's this darling bakery just outside of Paris that makes the most delectable ones. I used to visit it every chance I could while at Beauxbatons. I hope you enjoy them.

Sincerely,

A.G.

His lips twisted into something akin to amusement as he glanced at the small tin package that laid on his bed. He loved sweets, of course. Call it curiosity or irresistible temptation, he popped the package open, his eyes glowing at the sight of perfect macarons organized by colour. Assorted scents wafted from the box, and he discerned hazelnut, chocolate, and lemon? He had to guess the last one based on the colour of the biscuit. Plucking up the hazelnut, he bit into it as he rummaged for a piece of parchment to reply.

Astoria,

'Tabi' being called sensible of all things is a ridiculously inaccurate description of this creature that you've burdened me with. 

I cannot confirm or deny whether there were any biscuits remaining when Mother arrived from her trip to her sister's home. I did her the courtesy of hiding the evidence of their existence, which I think more than fulfills my duties.

To your question, my dreams have remained unchanged in frequency. I am struggling to-

I can't -

Draco sighed, putting his quill down as he looked outside. Truth be told, he understood her all too well. He missed his friends. He missed his life. He missed– Stop it, he closed his eyes. 

They had all moved on, and were the better for it. Even Theo's persistence had waned, his last message had been weeks ago.

"You have an open invitation, always. Come." Theo had written in his last letter which was sitting folded in his desk now. Draco glanced down at his reply to Astoria.

Despite the circumstances, it appears that we are both the same. I intend to remain so.

Draco

A few moments later, Tabi the near-feral ball of feathers was hurling herself out of his window at a ‘breakneck speed’ of 10 kilometres per hour. Shaking his head at her earnest pursuit home, he ran his fingers through his hair. It was a good thing the Greengrass’s didn't live far. His mind drifted back to Theo's words, letting them mingle with Astoria's. Picking up the quill, he grabbed a new sheet of parchment.

Theo,

Drinks?

D

"No, mum, dad! Stop it, stop it!"

Harry bolted from the bed, sprinting out of the room before Theo could even rise. Rubbing his face, Theo slowly followed the path downstairs, listening to gasping sobs coming from below. He nodded and took over caring for Hermione while Harry put the kettle on the Muggle way. Smoothing her hair down, he kissed the top of her head.

"It's over, it's over now." His heart broke for her as she shook in his lap.

"I begged them to take me instead. Why wouldn't they take me?" Hermione broke down as a fresh wave of tears fell on his chest.

"Who was it this time?" He asked gently.

"D-Dolohov…" She choked out, nails gripping into his arms without breaking skin.

"Fucker." Theo muttered. "Anyone else?"

"Y-Yax-ah-Yaxley…" She stuttered, the image of his curved wand pointing at her contorted mother flashing in her mind.

Theo squeezed her tightly. Her dreams were combining reality with her own imagination. The nightmare hadn't happened, but it could have. And that fear was enough.

"What kind of daughter am I? I gave up on them." Hermione whispered into Theo's chest, making him cup her face.

"The very best, Granger. You sacrificed everything. You didn't give up on them, you gave them a chance to survive."

"But I–"

"No one blames you for not being able to bring them back." Harry said firmly.

Later, when she'd fallen asleep, Harry asked the inevitable question.

"Has she spoken to anyone about these dreams? I'm sure someone at St. Mungo's…" Harry gazed down at his best friend, finally asleep.

"Who could she go to? The press would be all over it in an instant, with Rita Skeeter leading the charge." Theo reminded him before guiding him back to bed.

"Surely there are privacy laws-"

"And how much money do you think it'll take for healers to look the other way? Not much." Theo shrugged.

"Well, what about her parents then? When are we going to tell her?" Harry insisted, crawling into bed.

Theo stilled. He'd only seen Draco twice since the blond had finally owl'd him. The revelation of what he'd done had been shocking to say the least. "Are we telling her?"

"Aren't we?" Harry shot back, tensing.

Theo leaned down and kissed Harry's forehead. "Maybe not yet."

"She deserves to know! They're her parents!" Harry said indignantly.

"You're right. But I don't think she's ready yet. That guilt–"

"–That's not for us to decide. She already has enough guilt, thinking she's abandoned them–"

Theo lifted his hands up in placation. "Just listen. This is something Draco's been planning for a long time. I think we should let him decide when to tell her. By the way he was talking last time, their memory is still a little rocky . We don't want to do more harm, for both sides."

Harry sighed, sinking back into the bed. "I suppose. But she deserves to know."

"And I'm sure when Draco and the healer say that her parents are ready, he will tell us so we can get Hermione ready." Theo affirmed.

Jeanette hugged Draco tightly as soon as they'd apparated onto Hermione's street. Patting her back, he slipped a piece of Muggle paper into William’s hand.

"That's the address. It's just a few flats down. I've spoken with her friends. She doesn't have plans. Now remember what I said. Take it slow, and use the terratone-"

"-telephone." William gently corrected, smiling.

"Right, telephone number to contact Pot–Harry if you need anything. Madame Tsai will be in contact to keep track of your progress. But otherwise, you should be well enough to resume your daily lives."

"What about you? Aren't you coming with us?" Jeanette asked.

Draco shook his head. "It's as you said, Mrs. Granger. I did terrible, irredeemable things in the War. I'm sure she doesn't want to see me.” He glanced away as the old ache of regret resurfaced. Taking a moment, he returned their earnest gazes and smiled. “Please don't tell her it was me. It's enough that she has you both back."

Jeanette's keen eyes narrowed as she shook her head. "I know what I said, but you've proven your mettle. You are not irredeemable. Come with us. Or at least let us tell her that it was you–"

Draco clasped her hand in both of his, smiling as his chest tightened. "No, Mrs. Granger. This moment is about you returning home. I won't ruin that for you. Besides, I didn't heal you. I simply brought Madame Tsai. She is the one who deserves all the credit for your memories returning."

She squeezed his hands once with a sad smile before letting go and turning to grab William’s arm. The Grangers waved at Draco one last time, walking toward the address written on the paper.

"You know, Jeanette. I don't think this is goodbye. I think it's just goodbye for now." William said quietly, as if he was privy to a secret that he wasn't ready to share yet. Jeanette leaned against his arm.

Draco waited until they reached her doorstep before he quickly disillusioned himself, hiding a few houses away as he watched.

Hermione furrowed her brows as her magical wards went off, alerting her that there were people outside her flat. Using a quick spell, her confusion furthered. What were two Muggles doing outside her door?

Knock knock

"Coming!" Wand tucked away, she tugged on a cardigan and opened the door, freezing at the sight before her.

"Hello, dearest. We're home." William's eyes welled even as he stuttered the words he'd been practicing for weeks. He felt Jeanette begin to shake beside him, and he quickly gripped her hand for support.

"Dad…? Mum?" Hermione’s mind went blank, her hand tightening around the door handle as she forced her knees not to buckle.

"Darling…" Jeanette reached out for her daughter and it was like someone had pressed the play button on life. The Grangers grabbing hold of their daughter, a family reunited in mingled cries.

"We missed you so much." William muttered into his daughter's hair.

"H-how? How did you-?" Hermione asked while clinging to them both.

"Wait, wait, wait. We did it wrong." Jeanette pulled away, wiping her tears away.

"What? What do you mean?" Hermione demanded, sniffling. She watched her father pull away as well, nodding.

"No, she's right. Hermone Jeanette Granger, you once wrote a three-page essay rebuttal to being sent to bed without reading." His eyes twinkled at the memory.

"That's right. And a year ago, you came to bring us home from Australia. I'm so sorry it took us this long to come back to you." Jeanette's lower lip trembled.

Hermione glanced between her parents, finally hers again, and pulled them into a tight hug once more.

"Thank you for coming home." She whispered as fresh tears sprung into her eyes.

From afar, Draco watched for only another moment longer before slipping into the darkness to apparate away. 

His job was done.

"Mercy! Mercy, I beg you, my Lord. Please! Have we not done everything you have asked of us? Have I not sacrificed my life, my name, for you? Have I not proven myself worthy? Please! Spare my boy, my child. Please!" Lucius prostrated himself in front of Voldemort, limp hair fanned against the back of his black Death Eater robes. Draco shivered behind him, cowering before the tyrant.

"Mercy, you say?" Voldemort hissed, red eyes flashing as he circled Malfoy Senior. His gnarled feet toed Lucius' hair, tangling in it as the Dark Lord kicked him in the face. "Mercy for failure? Mercy for weakness?"

"Please!" Lucius crawled against the dungeon tiles, scrambling to stay between the man and his son.

"Fine." Voldemort hissed. "He shall have mercy. Watch, boy. Your father will take your punishment. "Crucio!"

Terrible shakes woke him this time, as he drowned in sweaty fabrics that only curled and dragged him further down while he flailed for freedom. The fresh memory laid imprinted over his eyes that blurred and distorted as the dim room came into focus. Rubbing his eyes, Draco finally let out an anguished wail and curled in on himself. It was too much. The guilt and regret, the memories, the hate. It was all too much.

Madame Tsai studied her patient as he looked into his tea cup. "You are still using Occlumency." 

Draco glanced away, avoiding her gaze. A sharp thwack on his head made him yelp. "Ow!"

"I told you in Australia that you had to stop using it. You knew what it would do to you. Why do you still use it?"

"It helps!" Draco protested.

"Helps? Helps who? Not you. It harms you. Look at you now. Can't sleep. Can't quit. It's become an addiction. You need to stop before it's too late." Madame Tsai tapped his tea cup with her wand, refilling it.

"Too late…" Draco echoed quietly. Professor Snape had told him the risks: listlessness, break from reality, losing his sense of self. He had never thought they would be actual risks for him. He had never thought that far ahead. There had been no reason to. 

"Draco." Madame Tsai's voice permeated his thoughts. "Tell me what else has happened since we last spoke."

Casting his mind back, he paused. He took a moment to consider before leaning forward. "I had a friend when I was a child. Astoria Greengrass."

Madame Tsai raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her tea.

Hermione backed away, stumbling over crumbled stone. Looking down, her fingers trembled as they dripped red from Theo's blood. His body laid cooling across the courtyard floor at Hogwarts, his eyes glassy.

"No, no!" She shook her head. This wasn't real, it wasn't real. Theo couldn't be dead, he'd been right there just a moment ago.

"'Mione, help her!" Ron's voice came from the side, and she spun around. Her blood froze in her veins.

"Pansy…" She whispered.

"W-Weasley…" Pansy gurgled as blood spilled from her side. "I'm s-s-sorr-y…" She shuddered one final time before going limp in Ron's arms.

Ron's wail pierced the skirmishes that waged around them. Finally, he turned to her, brilliant blue eyes dark and accusing. "You said you'd help us." His voice harmonized with Pansy's and Theo's. "You swore you'd protect us." Her parents' voices layered on. "How could you do this to us?" Draco's voice blanketed all the rest, making her sink to her knees.

"Stop it. I tried. I tried!" Hermione muttered, gripping her pillow tightly. The voices rose above her mumbles, deafening her until she felt her throat closing. Rising sharply, she blinked back her crusted-over lashes as she scanned her room.

Alone. Again.

Despite her parents returning, they’d been eager to return to their daily lives. The secrecy surrounding how their memories had been recovered was still something she needed to explore. 

Another time.

She sagged back into her pillows, rolling to her side. Groping for her wand, she cast a quick tempus. 9 minutes before 6 a.m. With a groan, she slipped out of bed. Master Snape would be waiting for her latest report.

Hermione chewed on the end of her quill as she ran through the dwindling list of resources she could procure. The funds for their research had begun to run out, despite her best efforts at lobbying for more funding. She had dipped into her Order of Merlin award several times in as many months, without Master Snape's knowledge. She blew out a sigh. She would need to lobby for more funding from the new Board of Directors.

"Apprentice Granger. Have you finished grading the first year essays on the uses of asphodel root?" Severus swept into their shared office, his lecturing materials floating into a neat stack on his desk.

Hermione waved her hand. "Of course, sir. I have put them by your cabinet, ready for your return when you have time this afternoon."

"Mm. And what's this?" He bent down to look over her shoulder at her list, noting the crossed out ingredients and scrawled notes.

Hermione looked up tiredly. "I'm still working on our project, of course."

"Of course." Severus, never one to ask further, made to leave before her arm caught his wrist.

"I'm sorry sir. It's just…could I see it again?" Hermione winced as the words left her. He hated the bloody thing more than anyone else.

Severus looked down his nose at her before pulling his sleeve up to reveal the Mark. He watched as she bent down yet again to get as clear of a view of the cursed thing as she could.

Hermione squinted, trying to ignore what she already knew. She'd seen the Mark several times already, and had noted characteristics of it each time. Now, she needed to find something different. Another angle. Another perspective-

There.

Her eyes caught the scale pattern of the snake. For a man who had created the image, surely every detail had a hidden meaning. Mind whirring, she grabbed her wand. "Accio…er….oh, bugger! I've forgotten what the bloody book is called!" She stamped her foot against the floor and stood up, releasing a bewildered Severus from her grasp as she strode to their shared research bookshelves.

Hermione’s nimble fingers scanned through the names, scurrying to find the one she needed. Finally, she located it. "Here it is."

"What have you found?" Severus asked, intrigued. It was rare to see his apprentice become this animated these days after so many hard failures.

"One second. Page 271…venomous snakes…scales….there!" Hermione scanned the page with ease before landing on the note again. "Look!" She pointed to the section excitedly and turned the book for Severus to see. "The scales on the Mark match!"

Severus skimmed the section she was pointing at. The section referred to two types of venomous snakes - constrictors and basilisks. He nodded uncomprehendingly. "So the scales match." He repeated.

"Yes." Hermione felt truly energized for the first time in months. The spark was beginning to grow. "Sir, can you tell me the exact process for how the Dark Mark is given?"

Severus simply looked at her. "I've explained it to you–"

"Sir, please." Hermione interjected. "Just one more time." If she was right, it would be the last time he would ever have to tell her again..

Severus paused. "Using his wand, Voldemort would speak the Mark into existence, using the spell Duras Morsmorde to imbue his magic into each taker. It was supposed to be a gift." He said bitterly. "A piece of him, he called it."

"A piece of him."Hermione echoed. "Lucky that he didn't think to use all of you as horcruxes, with that kind of language."

"Mm," was Severus' only response.

Forging ahead, Hermione asked him questions in rapid-fire urgency.

"Was the process always the same?"

"Yes."

"Did he use any sort of substance to inject or insert into your arm?"

"No. He simply dipped his wand into my arm."

Hermione slumped slightly. An inserted trigger or failsafe would have made sense to avoid servants’ regret. She stared at the book, trying to parse the thought that was just out of reach.

What was the link between the snakes and the Mark? What was the effect of getting the Mark? "Pain," she muttered to herself.

More than pain, what was the probable cause of that pain? What about snakes was painful? "Bites." She posited under her breath. 

No, it couldn't be the bite. "Venom." She said quietly. "Could he have used snake venom?"

"Granger?" Severus' voice floated through her thoughts, and she lifted her head.

"What if the key is snake venom?" She asked him. Hope budded in her chest as his contemplative eyes flared. Could it be Nagini's venom? She had to be sure. "Was your skin ever broken before the Mark? Cut or scraped?" She knew the answer but she needed to be sure that her memory didn’t fail her. 

Severus nodded, jaw clenched. "One slice, directly in the middle of the Mark."

"And you said that he used his wand tip. Did he touch the skin or was his wand inside the wound when he put the Mark on you?" Hermione pressed. She found herself leaning closer. She was right. She could feel it.

"It was dug into the wound."Severus' response was clipped, his hand tightening in memory.

Hermione nodded, trying to rein in her emotions as she continued. "Did he pour anything into the wound before or after the incantation?"

Severus stilled, shoulders stiff. "No. Never."

Hermione shook her head. She wasn't giving up. "Did he carry a vial of anything? Did you ever see him carrying a potion or small tube? Easily concealed?"

Severus closed his eyes, casting his mind back to all those years ago. Eyebrows furrowed, he nodded. "In the early days, I saw him carry a vial. He only brought it out for special cases toward the end."

Hermione frowned. "Special cases?"

"Those he deemed 'worthy'." Severus spat out the words.

Hermione lowered her eyes before continuing. "He had a vial of something with him, but he didn't use anything on the wound directly. Did he ever turn away from you during the process of getting the Mark?"

Severus nodded stiffly. "He cut my arm, praised me for my composure, as he called it, and turned away. I thought he turned to dispose of the knife but perhaps…"

"Perhaps he used the snake venom then?" Hermione asked, agreeing. "If not directly, what if he dipped his wand into the vial for each Mark? It would embed the venom into the cut, becoming part of the Mark. The searing pain that all Death Eaters have is not only from his calling, but could also be the effects of the venom being reactivated."

"But what kind of venom would he use? He never acted without significance. I was Marked before Nagini and he became connected. What snake venom did he use to mark me?" Severus asked.

Hermione tapped her finger against the desk, pondering. "The book says that the scales on your Mark refer to either constrictors or basilisks. The only constrictor we know of that had significance to Riddle was Nagini. If it wasn't her, it would have to be…the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets! Of course!"

Severus paled. All these years…"So what is your hypothesis?" He struggled to remain calm as Hermione began to very nearly vibrate in her seat from excitement.

"We know that he opened the Chamber during his time at Hogwarts. What if he started off using the Slytherin Basilisk venom in the Mark and switched to Nagini when she became his Horcrux, since he was never seen without her?"

Severus sat back, contemplating, before finally rising to his feet. "Well, Apprentice Granger. You have your hypothesis. Make your thesis and report. I will review it and send the formal request to Minerva. Where will you start?" This time, he would let her guide him.

Hermione stood, smiling wide as she faced him. "I will ask for Basilisk fangs to begin. We should still have a few remaining. Once we have synthesized the cure, I would like to move forward with procuring Nagini's venom for synthesization as well." 

Severus pressed his lips together as he strode to the door. Pausing, he spoke quietly. "Well done."

"Thank you, sir." Hermione bit her lip as she watched her mentor leave. You will be the first I save, she promised.

Hermione stared down at her feet as emotion welled up.

"Vidra, come now." Viktor's calloused hands lifted her chin. "You will always be mi vidra." He leaned his forehead against hers.

"I'm sorry, Viktor." She shut her eyes, resting against him. "I'm sorry that I kept you for so long."

"Nonsense. It was my happiness. You will always have me, Hermione. But, I think you do not need me anymore. And that is good. Yes?" Viktor smiled as they hugged tightly. Smoothing her hair, he whispered in her ear. "You will always be my good girl."

Blushing, Hermione let out a small laugh. "I'll miss you."

"I will miss you too. But I will visit. And perhaps you will come see me play."

"That depends. Will you give me a signed uniform if I do?"

"Vidra, I will give you my uniform if you do." He grinned. "But what will you do with it?"

She shrugged as she smiled back. "I might sell it!"

Roaring with laughter, Viktor waved goodbye one last time before joining his coach and teammates, his smile dwindling to a bittersweet one as they parted for good.

Hermione swallowed the ache in her chest as she watched him go. It wasn't goodbye. Not really.

"Draco!"

Draco turned toward the sound, eyes wide as a blur of dark hair collided into him. "Oof!"

"I just received an owl from Madame Tsai! She said you recommended me and she wants to interview me to become an apprentice? Me!" Astoria chattered excitedly, grabbing his arms.

"I may have mentioned that I had a friend who was interested in the opportunity to work with her." He smirked down at her.

Grinning, she leaned in. "Friend? Are we friends now?" She teased.

His collar growing arm, Draco coughed awkwardly. "Aren't we?"

Astoria weighed him in her eyes for a moment before turning away. "Well, friend, allow me to treat you to Fortunescue ice cream to return the favour."

The claustrophobic darkness that he had come to associate with his own home choked the light out of his consciousness. Nearly as dark as the Dementor's wake, Voldemort's wrath had no limits. Tonight, the show was the cruelest of all.

Draco trembled behind his thick Occlumency walls as he watched Severus Snape writhe and foam at the mouth on his Persian woollen carpet. Crucio after Crucio was cast with hardly a second to give him a breath.

"Failure at this stage is akin to being a traitor." Voldemort hissed as he finally let up. Pacing in front of the shuddering Potions master, he whipped his wand to have ropes strangle his neck.

"Are you a traitor, Severus?" He asked dangerously.

"Please, my lord." Severus gasped.

"Answer me!"

"N-no. I am no traitor, my lord." Severus choked, his face growing red.

Bellatrix cackled from the sidelines, wand ready. "May I, my lord?"

Voldemort's bloodred eyes shifted from his top lieutenant to Draco. Leering, he paced forward as Draco shrank back.

"Malfoy Junior. Come. Try your hand. You'll never find a better time to practice. Show us what you've learned. The Carrows have taught you the Crucio? Perform for us." Voldemort swept his arm out in a mock-bow.

Draco's terrified eyes met the resigned ones of his godfather.

"Please…please don't make me do this." Draco whispered into his pillow, drenched in tears.

"Cowardly boy. Let me help you. Imperio!” 

Draco felt the telltale pressure of control wash over his mind. Try as he might, the tyrant’s power overwhelmed him until he saw his wand raise to point at Snape. 

“Crucio!” He heard himself speak, a flash of red exiting his wand.

Sweating profusely, Draco rose from bed with only one mission in mind: He had to see Severus Snape.

"Draco." Severus stood aside for his old student to enter.

"Professor." Draco, unsure of what to call him, addressed him by his old title.

"What can I do for you?" Severus had no interest in small talk. After over a year of silence, he wondered at the sudden change.

Draco looked around at the office, noting the second chair and set of supplies. "Since when do you share an office?"

Severus looked at him impassively.

Sighing, Draco sat down in the chair opposite to Severus' desk. "I came to apologize. And, to thank you. You saved me. With Occlumency, with healing my Mark, with taking on my burdens…all of it."

Severus slowly sat in his chair. "How have you been?"

"After Azkaban, you mean?" Draco barked a laugh, shifting in his seat.

"No. After the battle."

Anger and resentment filled Draco's chest, making him scoff. "How am I? I was branded and sent to Azkaban prison! I tried to do what was right and I still–I still have to look at it every day!" He tugged on his sleeve, the residual ache of the Mark making it throb.

Severus silently slid over a pot of salve, noting how Draco reached for it willingly with a muttered 'thanks'.

"I suppose this is my life now." Draco sighed. He'd resigned himself to this fate long ago. Why did it still ache so?

Severus' eyes flitted over to Granger's notes. They were close, but not ready yet. Looking back at Draco, he steepled his fingers together. "This pain will pass. Are you seeing a healer?"

Draco nodded. "I have a decent one. She yelled at me to stop using Occlumency."

Severus' lips twisted into a slight smile. "She sounds at least competent."

Draco scoffed. "She's more than that."

"Good. Come back when you have run out of the salve." With that, Severus dismissed him. 

His charge was safe. 

His work was done.

Draco's lips twitched as Scorpius stirred at the sound of his mother's name. They were getting close to the part of the story that he knew. A twinge of sadness ached in his chest. Astoria. 

Hermione's hand covered his, and together they shared a moment to remember the woman who never flinched from her destiny.

Her part of the story needed to be told too.