The Secret Keepers

by letsfindeuphoria

Summary:

“You have a very important job, Draco,” mother’s voice echoed in his head.
“A role to play, to protect our most valuable secrets.”
“Yes, Mother,” he’d replied. He thought it was going to be easy. Theo would be starting school right alongside him, and he didn’t need anyone else as far as he was concerned. That was until he saw her. Now, her form retreated into the masses of red and gold and he squeezed his hands to somehow dull the painful squeezing in his heart. Foolish, foolish, foolish. He didn’t have time to long for impossible friendships. He had secrets to keep.

A story about secrets and who they trust to keep them. 4th year to Post War fic.

Chapter 1

Prologue:

Year 1:

“Gryffindor!”
The table dressed in red and gold erupted in a cacophony of cheers, and his heart sunk as he watched the girl with chestnut curls walk towards them.Why did it have to be Gryffindor?

He had wished for Slytherin, even settled for Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, anything other than the lions that were welcoming her into their den. The girl squeezed into a seat between a red headed Weasley and the nervous dark-haired boy that she had been helping on the train. The bitter taste of jealousy coated his tongue.

He didn’t want to be a Gryffindor. Those foolhardy lions were reckless. They charged headfirst into the unknown with nothing but a can-do spirit and a positive attitude. No, he knew he belonged among the cunning and ambitious snakes, but a piece of him seemed to think that he belonged with her, too.

He didn’t even know her.
Their conversation on the train had consisted of a simple question and an even simpler answer, but it didn’t matter. He’d felt it from the moment he saw her, his magic swirled and pulsed, drawing him forward until his eyes met hers. Grey to brown, light to dark. He wondered if she could feel it too, if she understood what it meant better than he did. He guessed it didn’t really matter anyway, he wasn’t allowed to associate with Gryffindors.
The words of his parents flashed in his mind.

“You have a very important job, Draco,” mother’s voice echoed in his head.
“A role to play, to protect our most valuable secrets.”
“Yes, Mother,” he’d replied. He thought it was going to be easy. Theo would be starting school right alongside him, and he didn’t need anyone else as far as he was concerned. That was until he saw her. Now, her form retreated into the masses of red and gold and he squeezed his hands to somehow dull the painful squeezing in his heart. Foolish, foolish, foolish. He didn’t have time to long for impossible friendships. He had secrets to keep. He stilled his expression and replaced it with an all-knowing smirk.
“Draco Malfoy.”
The stern professor called him to the front. The hat barely touched his head before it called out Slytherin. He turned toward his new life and refused to look back, afraid to know if the girl was watching him.

Year 2:

He needed to stop thinking about her. In fact, there were a hundred other things that he needed to think about that weren’t her, but it was useless. Classes, quidditch, upcoming finals, none of those things felt important. To him, nothing else had mattered from the second he heard about the accident. She was petrified. Not dead, per say, just frozen. He’d read every book in the library on the subject, whether he planned to use the information to save her or soothe his panic he wasn’t sure.

For the past two years she’d seen him in his role, and if she was petrified forever, she would only ever know him as someone he was not. The thought kept him up most nights. He missed seeing her tucked into a book in the library. He missed brushing past her in the entryway of classrooms on purpose, just to get a whiff of honey and lilacs. It was ridiculous for him to feel this way.

He still barely knew her,
most of what he did know was gleaned from eavesdropped conversations and passing glances. She loved sugar quills, she scrunched her nose when she was confused, she read books at the quidditch pitch when she thought no one was watching. Draco was always looking from the outside, but he yearned to get the chance to learn more. To be her friend. She couldn’t be frozen forever; he needed more time.

Year 3:

Draco had thought this was going to be easy, but he was wrong. Some days, he felt like it was going to rip him apart.
He didn’t much care about the hippogriff. He knew it was his fault for taking it all too far, but he couldn’t back down. There had to be consequences, simply to prove that the Malfoy name had as much teeth as it always had. He decided that he could live with his decision, deception is pain, after all, until he saw the way she looked at him. Her eyes, amber and ferocious, were full of disgust and disappointment. He could handle her anger, her annoyance, her spite, but the disappointment burned his core like fire. He spent two days in bed. Theo spread the word that his cut had gotten infected, but he knew it hadn’t. He didn’t ask, and Draco didn’t tell.

By the end of the year, she stopped looking at him with such determined hatred. He didn’t know what caused it, but it finally felt like he could breathe again. Well, sometimes, anyway. Because sometimes he would watch her, and it took every piece of self-control he had not to walk closer. It had only been three years, but his act was wearing thin. How much longer could he go on like this?

Notes:

Disclaimer: The characters, settings, and original story belong to JK Rowling. This work is a non-profit, non-commercial fanfiction written for entertainment purposes only and is not affiliated with or endorsed by the original creators. I do not own any of the original material

Chapter 2

Hermione brushed her hand against her cheek, wiping away the remnants of smudged mascara and salty tears. Of course, her brain chose that exact moment to be riddled with teen angst. It was almost as if she wanted to fit into some muggle movie cliché that her friends back home forced her to watch during the summer months. After all, it was the night of the Triwizard Champion selection, and instead of being at the after party in the Gryffindor common room drinking butter beer straight from the bottle, she was alone in a hidden alcove of the library, crying onto her school robes. Why did she always end up in tears on Halloween?

“Granger?”

She looked up through a blur of tears and made out the lean silhouette of the last person she expected to find her in her hiding spot.

“Malfoy?”

She wiped at her face and tried desperately to control her sobs. The last thing she needed was her childhood bully making a bad night worse.

“What do you want?”

She sounded dejected, too tired to fill her words with any spite.

“What happened, Granger?”

The Slytherin took a tentative step towards her, and when she didn’t back away, he took a few more until they were within mere inches of each other, tucked back behind the tall rows of books.

“Why do you care?”

He sat down beside her and offered her an emerald green silk handkerchief before responding. She hesitated for only a moment before accepting his offering and dabbing at her cheeks.

“I care because you’re Hermione Granger and nothing fazes you, so if you’re crying then someone seriously fucked up. Now tell me what happened.”

Hermione’s eyes widened at the boy’s admission. She watched him but found no trace of his usual sneer, all she found was sincerity shining in his steel grey eyes.

“It’s nothing, it’s just Ron. He’s an idiot.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes at this.

“You’re going to have to elaborate on that. Weasley and idiot are synonymous terms.”

She huffed out a laugh and the corner of his mouth twitched into an almost smile. The expression made something warm unfurl in her stomach. She blinked at him a few times, as if she was seeing him in a light that she’d only ever seen in flashes. The words tumbled past her lips.

“Harry’s name came out of the goblet tonight, as I’m sure you’re well aware, but I know he didn’t put his name in. I could tell by his reaction that he was as shocked as the rest of us, but Ron doesn’t agree. He seems to think that Harry put his name in himself, for fame or glory or Merlin knows what else. After Harry got taken away with the other contestants, Ron and I got into an argument. I tried to convince him that he was wrong, and that Harry needed our support, but fighting with him is useless. He said horrible things about Harry, and then about me, and I couldn’t take another second of it. I knew if I went back to the common room, I would have to face all the questions from the rest of our house, and I just felt too worn out to have to defend Harry to all of them, so I’ve been here ever since.”

“Weasley reacting sourly based solely on emotion and then refusing to listen to logic? What a shocking twist of events.”

It took a moment for Hermione to process that Draco was joking, but once the sarcasm set in, she let out a quiet laugh.

“I didn’t know you could be funny, Malfoy.”

“You don’t know a lot of things about me,” he replied with a smirk.

His response sparked a new question, and it was out of her mouth before she could stop it.

“Why are you in the ancient runes section of the library?”

Draco’s smirk faded a bit, and he ran a hand through his platinum blonde hair before asking quietly.

“Do you want to know the truth, or do you want to be comfortable?”

Hermione blinked and then asked somewhat cautiously, “what do you mean by that?”

Draco sighed.

“What I mean, is that I could lie to you. I could tell you that I’m back here because I need a textbook for class, or that I’m supposed to meet up with Blaise to trade for fire whiskey, or to snog Pansy, or anything else, really, and you would believe me. And it would be comfortable if I told you a lie, because it would match up with the person who you think I am, with the role that I’ve been playing for years now. But if I tell you the truth, you might see things differently. You’ll know something that very few other people know, but it won’t be comfortable anymore.”

She responded almost immediately.

“Out with it then. Tell me the truth.”

The corner of his mouth lifted again, just an inch.

“I should’ve known you were going to say that.”

“Well, you know, Gryffindor courage and all that.” She gestured vaguely with her hand and his mouth curled into a real smile. She’d never seen him truly smile before; it looked good on him.

Draco stretched his long legs out beside her and took a deep breath. When he opened his mouth again the words flowed in a quiet rush.

“I’m back here because I’m hiding from the other Slytherins. And I’ll answer your next question before you even ask it, I’m hiding from the Slytherins because it is absolutely exhausting to pretend to be someone you’re not. What you don’t know, is that I’ve been acting out a character for every minute of every day that I’ve been at this school. To everyone else, I’m the Slytherin Prince. A pureblood zealot, a stuck-up ponce, but it’s all a facade. The truth is, Granger, I don’t hate you, or any muggleborn for that matter. I never have. In fact, I think you’re brilliant, and if things were different, I think we’d be friends. However, I don’t get to make those choices, I’ve been dealt this hand and I have to play it.”

He stopped to look at her for a moment, weighing his next words carefully.

“My secret is that every jab I make at you or Potter, or even Longbottom, it eats at me. And every time I must laugh at one of Marcus Flint’s bigoted jokes or nod politely as Pansy jabbers on about the color of the season it makes me want to scream. So, when I can’t take it anymore, I come here to the advanced ancient runes section of the library where I know that no one will bother me, and I get to just be for a while.”

Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it, several times, she probably looked like a gaping fish. Draco’s words echoed and her brained whirred trying to put the pieces together. Her initial response was to say that he was lying, but as she looked at him slumped against the bookshelf, looking at her with an almost desperate glint in his gaze, she knew that what he was saying was the truth.

“You’re not lying,” she whispered, and he nodded.

“I’d take veritaserum on the spot if you had any.”

“Why are you telling me all of this?” She winced at her aggressive tone.

“What I mean to say,” she corrected, “is that I believe you. What I don’t understand, is why you’re trusting me with your secret.”

He looked at her, long and hard, trying to come up with the right words to say.

“I didn’t seek you out tonight. I had no idea you’d be here, but an opportunity presented itself and I couldn’t help but take it. I’m just, I’m tired of wondering about the what-ifs. I told you my secret, because I think you’re brave and loyal enough to keep it, but more importantly, I told you because I’m tired of wondering what it would be like to actually get to be your friend.”

The confession hung in the stale air of the library, making Harry’s entry in the Triwizard Tournament and her fight with Ron feel minuscule in comparison. Her brain spun, replaying countless scenarios from the past four years in which she’d watched Draco behave one way when she’d always wondered if he believed another. The times she had watched him go quiet when he thought no one else was watching. The looks shared between the two of them that she’d always summed up to her own imagination. How many times had she desperately wanted to know what was going on inside his head? Her mind was quickly devolving into shambles, but through the chaos, one cohesive thought began to form. The details and the curiosities could wait, she had to get this out first.

“I’ll keep your secret.”

His gaze snapped to hers. Grey to brown, light to dark. This time, he wouldn’t look away.

“And I’d like to be your friend too, Draco.”

His responding smile lit up his entire face and the breath caught in her throat at the beauty of it; the first break of sunshine after a rainstorm. The warm feeling she had before was back at full force, spreading into her extremities. He reached out his hand and placed it on the ground between them, then she did the same, resting her hand on top of his. Within the small gesture, an unspoken promise was made. Neither retracted their hand.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Almost a week went by before Hermione found herself alone in the library again. She’d spent the last six days trying to get Ron and Harry to come to some sort of truce, but it was no use. Instead, she found herself filling the solo role of Harry’s best friend, while concurrently holding herself back from hexing Ron ten times a day. Even Harry was proving to be difficult company. He was so distraught about the tournament and his fight with Ron that he didn’t speak unless prompted to do so. Even then he barely answered Hermione’s forced attempts at conversation. By Thursday, the Gryffindor was fed up with both boys’ behaviors, and she decided that a night alone might help to clear her mind. She had already settled herself down in a seat in the main section of the library when the fleeting thought came to her to check the ancient runes alcove. She brushed it off at first. There were very slim chances that Malfoy was there, and even if he was, he probably wasn’t interested in having a guest. The longer she sat, however, the more she replayed their conversation from last week in her head. He had said such nice things, and he did say he wanted to be friends. Surely friends would want company, right?

With a huff, Hermione stood up and tucked her textbook and quills away into her bag.

“If he’s there, the worst he can say is no,” she whispered. Steeling her shoulders with Gryffindor courage she marched to the ancient runes section.

Hermione rounded the corner and skidded to a stop. Draco was sitting alone at a table, his eyebrows drawn together in concentration as he wrote something onto a long scroll of parchment. Just the sight of him brought her a strange sense of peace, like finding something she didn’t know had been missing.

Hermione cleared her throat and his eyes snapped forwards to meet hers, his expression was unreadable.

“Um, hi,” Hermione started, suddenly nervous at how the conversation was going to play out.

“Can I sit with you?”

Draco blinked once, and then twice, almost as if he was in a daze, and then he shook his head and said rather quickly.

“Yes! Of course, sit. I mean, if you want to sit.”

He pulled out the chair beside him and averted his gaze to the floor. The lighting was dim in the alcove, but Hermione would’ve sworn she could see a faint blush on his cheeks as she made her way over and began to lay her supplies out onto the table.

“What are you working on?”

“Just finishing up the essay for charms.”

“The one that isn’t due until next week?” Hermione’s eyes widened in embarrassment.

“Oh my, that sounded so rude, I meant for it to be a compliment.”

Draco grinned at her flustered state.

“Why yes, some people do choose to do the homework before the day it’s due.”

“Yes of course they do, I do obviously. I mean, I shouldn’t say obviously because it’s also possible that I do don’t that,” she stumbled over her words.

“You don’t have to be so nervous, Granger, I’m not going to hex you or something.”

She flushed red.

“I know, it’s just, well, your track record would beg to differ.”

Draco sucked in a breath and Hermione immediately opened her mouth to apologize, wondering how it was possible for her to have buggered up this conversation so terribly, but he held up a hand.

“You’re right.”

“Malfoy-“

“No, Granger, you’re right. I’ve been an absolute prat to you for the past four years. I am so sorry, for everything that I have said and did that hurt you in any way. I told you last week that I did not agree with my actions, but that doesn’t make the words any less hurtful. If you accept my apology, I’ll spend the rest of our friendship trying to make it up to you.”

Hermione was quiet for a moment and Draco tensed. She had every right to not forgive him, he knew that, but the thought of her walking away made his chest ache. She remained silent and his shoulders began to slump in defeat.

“I forgive you.”

The statement was spoken barely above a whisper and Draco turned his head quickly to meet her gaze, half convinced he had imagined it.

“I forgive you,” she repeated, “but if this is going to work, I need you to stop bullying my friends.”

Draco stared at her for a moment, slightly in awe that she’d be willing to forgive him at all, but when he realized she was waiting for a response he faltered.

“I can try, Granger, but I can’t promise that it will all go away overnight. With the other Slytherins around sometimes I can’t get out of it.”

She nodded once, expecting this answer.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect, and Merlin knows that Harry and Ron probably egg it on themselves some days, but just lay off when you can, yeah?”

“I’ll do my best to lay off Potter and Weasley,” he acquiesced “and I am done saying anything bad about you.”

“Malfoy, you can’t do that.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“And why is that?”

“People will notice if you’re suddenly nice to me,” she reasoned. “You have to throw jabs sometimes or else the gig is up.”

“The what is what?”

She laughed at the confusion shadowing his features.

“It’s a muggle phrase. The gig is up means that you’re busted, that other people have caught on. And we can’t have that now can we?”

“I wish it didn’t have to be a game,” Malfoy said weakly. He looked so tired, so young in that moment that it made Hermione’s stomach twist.

“I know, but like you said before, we don’t always have a say in what hand we’re dealt.” He nodded and she continued.

“Someday, I hope that you’re comfortable enough with me to explain why this is a game at all, but until then I’ll be here. I’ll support you as best I can without the full story.”

“Support me?” He asked.

“Well yeah, isn’t that what friends are for?”

Hermione smiled at him, and when he returned it, a warm feeling cracked in her chest and oozed into her blood. She knew that the feeling was her magic, but why she was feeling it so strongly was still a mystery to her.

“So back to your charms essay,” Hermione started. “When you wrote about the locomotion of inanimate objects, did you include propulsion as a fifth option?”

“Well yes, but I actually included it as the sixth.”

“The sixth? Explain yourself.”

The unlikely pair dove into discussion, and with it any last feelings of hesitation about their budding friendship fizzled out, replaced by the glow of a new bond forming.

Chapter 3

What started as a weekly meet up in the library between Draco and Hermione had quickly devolved into a near daily occurrence. Hermione snuck away to the alcove as often as she could, only skipping nights when she needed to help Harry prepare for his upcoming Triwizard task. It had been weeks since her fight with Ron on Halloween, and their relationship remained strained at best. The start of fourth year had also turned her back to a regular class load, giving her far more free time than she’d ever experienced the year before. This left plenty of time for her to sit beside the platinum blonde Slytherin. It had become her favorite part of each day. The two were sitting at their usual table, textbooks and parchment spread out between them.

Hermione chewed on the edge of her quill and scanned her eyes across her potions essay, double checking that she had included all of the benefits of powdered dragon scales for strengthening solution.

“Granger,” Draco said, watching her fuss with her paper for the third time that night.

“Hmmm?” She didn’t look up.

“How did you take so many classes last year?”

Hermione’s eyes snapped to his.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he said in a silky drawl, “that I saw you last year on three separate occasions with three separate textbooks, divination, runes, and arithmancy.” He counted each subject off on his right hand as he spoke, and her eyes tracked the movement of his slender fingers. “Considering those were all three of our elective options, and we were only supposed to choose one, I wanted to know how you managed to pull it off.”

“Watching me rather carefully last year, were you now Malfoy?” She asked loftily and he rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Granger, I simply couldn’t keep my eyes off of you.” Though his voice was lined with sarcasm she could sense something off in his tone.

“Anyway,” he carried on, “you avoided answering my question. How did you do it?”

“Can you keep a secret?” She asked with a grin.

“I’d say it’s one of my best skills, really,” he affirmed.

“Dumbledore gave me a time turner at the beginning of last year, so I could keep up with all three classes.”

Draco’s eyes widened.

“A time turner? Dumbledore gave you, a third-year student, a time turner?”

“Hey! I wasn’t just some third year, I’m the brightest witch of our age, give me some credit. Also, he gave me explicit instructions to only use it for class work.”

Draco shook his head in awe.

“You’re given a ministry protected time turner, that could impact your life in so many different ways, and instead you use it for more schoolwork? Blimey, Granger, you’re an even bigger swot than I realized.”

She hit at his arm, and he rubbed it in feigned discomfort but smiled at her.

“Don’t be so touchy, I never said it was a bad thing.”

“You never said it was a good thing either,” she muttered, looking rather put out. Draco leaned across the table and placed two fingers under her chin, lifting her head until her gaze met his.

“You wouldn’t be Hermione if you weren’t brilliant.”

Butterflies erupted in her stomach, whether it was from the way he looked at her or the way he called her by her first name, she wasn’t sure, but she did know one thing for certain, she was headed straight for trouble.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Sparrows into teacups. The day’s lesson was one that Hermione had successfully accomplished a year ago, which left her more time than usual to fantasize about the boy sitting three rows away. She knew exactly where he was seated without looking. Hermione was a logical person, she always had been, which is what made her current situation even more confusing. It didn’t make sense why she could feel Draco’s presence, and nothing in any textbook could explain the feeling of warmth that swept through her body every time he got too close to her. Hermione didn’t have much experience with boys, and perhaps this was just what a crush felt like, but she had an inkling that wasn’t the case. Lately, she’d been happy, in the truest sense, and it was a feeling she hadn’t felt in a long time. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Hogwarts, or her magic, or her friends, it was just that she always felt a little bit different than them. The other Gryffindors teased her when she didn’t know how to play exploding snap, or if she rambled on about Hogwarts A History, and although it was all in good nature, the light hearted jabs reminded her of how alone she sometimes felt. She never felt alone with Draco. The more she spoke with him the more she realized that he was interesting beyond words. Well-read, curious, and lit up by discussion in a way she’d only ever witnessed in herself. Speaking with him filled a hole in her brain, a puzzle finding its missing piece. Maybe it was a crush, but maybe it was something else entirely.

“Hermione, why does your teacup have snakes on it?” The tone of Ron’s voice was hinted with disgust and Hermione felt the rush of blood to her cheeks. She had learned from her transfiguration readings that a person’s thoughts influenced the design of a transfigured object. Luckily, she knew that Ron hadn’t read far enough in the textbook to know that.

“I don’t know, I was thinking of a set of China dishes my gran used to have, they look like this.” She willed her voice to sound believable.

“What kind of respectable tea set would have snakes?” He repeated skeptically.

“They’re not snakes, Ronald, they’re dragons,” she corrected, and he rolled his eyes.

“Same difference.”

Bored with the conversation, he turned back to his own project which currently looked like a saucer with wings. Beside him, Harry had managed a somewhat normal teacup, the only distinguishable difference being that it occasionally chirped. She would help him work that spell out later.

Hermione felt the glow of Draco’s eyes on her, and she flicked her gaze forward to him. He was eyeing her teacup, a strange expression on his face. Her heart rate accelerated. Unlike Ron, he knew exactly what those dragons represented. He glanced up at her and lifted his mouth in an almost imperceptible smirk. She bit the inside of her cheek to hide a smile.

“Masterful work, Miss Granger, five points to Gryffindor,” Professor McGonagall praised her warmly from the front of the classroom.

“Show off.” Marcus Flint sneered from several tables over, but his complaint was quickly followed by a yelp caused by a well-placed stinging hex to his shoulder.

“What the hell, Malfoy,” he muttered.

“Do you want to win the house cup or not, Flint?” He growled. “Keep your mouth shut.”

Hermione smiled and looked down, watching the patterned dragons move in lazy circular motions around the rim of the teacup.

Unbeknownst to her, another set of eyes was watching the situation unfold, their curiosity growing by the minute.

 

Hermione walked quickly towards the secluded section of the library with a bright smile on her face. She heard the shifting sounds of another person up ahead and her body began to warm with the anticipation of seeing Draco again. When she made the last turn into their secret alcove, however, a different Slytherin was sitting in Draco’s regular space.

Hermione froze mid-step, dropping her book bag in the process. The thunk on the ground alerted the new guest to her arrival and his eyes rose from his book to meet hers. When their gazes met, his face broke into a wide grin.

“Nott?” Hermione questioned.

“I knew it!” He exclaimed. “I knew that blighter was hiding something. He’s been far less moody for the last month and I knew that the tournament had nothing to do with it. I thought up all sorts of scenarios, but this? This is brilliant.”

Hermione scrambled to come up with an excuse.

“Oh, I don’t-“

“Let me cut you off right there before you embarrass yourself, Granger,” Theo intercepted.

“I know you lot of Gryffindors are bloody courageous and all that, but you really are terrible liars.” He flashed another smile at Hermione, this one just as genuine as his last, and the uneasiness she had felt in his presence began to fade slightly.

“Come on then, have a seat, I promise I won’t bite.” Theo patted the chair beside him and she slowly shuffled closer.

“Where’s Draco?” she asked, standing somewhat awkwardly beside the chair he had pulled out for her.

“Oh he’s on his way. I will admit I had to send him on a bit of a wild goose chase to ensure that I would get here before he could discover my plan.”

“What kind of chase, exactly?” Hermione’s curiosity, as always, was going to get the best of her, and she settled down in the seat beside him and waited for an answer. Theo, seeming satisfied with her decision to sit down, began to explain.

“Well, I’ve known about Drake’s hiding spot back here for years now. However, about a month or so ago I started noticing that he would come back from the library happier than I’d ever seen him, at school anyway, and I decided that something must be up. I tried asking him about it of course, but he’d evade my questions or give me half-truths. So I decided to do a bit of investigating. Just before I came here, when I saw Draco was gathering his things to go somewhere, I told him that Professor Snape wanted him to go to the lab to talk about his Potions essay, when really I already knew that Snape was headed out to the greenhouses. I overheard him saying he needed to talk to Professor Sprout about harvesting a new batch of Sticklewort for the color-changing potions he’s making with the first years next week, but, well, that’s beside the point.” Hermione scrunched her forehead, trying hard to reign in the shock of hearing so many words come out of Theo’s mouth so quickly.

“I figured that by the time Draco realized Snape wasn’t there, he’d head here as fast as he could, but it gave me just enough of a head start to find out just what was keeping him in such good spirits, and what a lovely surprise it was to discover that it’s our very own Gryffindor Princess.”

She rolled her eyes at his title for her, and was about to ask another question when she heard the telltale sound of shoes walking swiftly towards them.

“Hermione, I’m so sorry I’m late. I can explain, I-“ Draco’s sentence stopped suddenly as he rounded the corner and he blinked rapidly a few times trying to process the scene at the table in front of him.

“Oh yes, Draco, please do explain why you’ve been hiding this delightful gem from me for weeks,” Theo quipped.

“You-“ Draco gaped. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh I’m just having a chat with our new friend, Hermione,” he emphasized her name to prove a point and sent in a wink in her direction before continuing. “Seems like you’re running a bit late, Drake. Snape must not have had much to say, eh?”

Realization flashed in Draco’s eyes and then his jaw clenched in frustration.

“Nott, one more word out of you and I’ll hit you with a shocking hex that even Pansy would be proud of.”

“I just don’t know what I should be more hurt about,” Theo completely ignored Draco’s threat and Hermione had to hide her smile beneath her fist.

“The fact that you were selfish enough to plan to hide her from me indefinitely, or the fact that you’re willing to apologize to her for being five minutes late when I haven’t heard a peep of an apology out of you in the past fifteen years of putting up with your brooding ass.”

At his last comment Hermione couldn’t hold it in anymore, and she erupted into a fit of giggles. Both boys turned to look at her, amusement now shining in their eyes.

“Fine, Theo, I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about Granger and I’s recent venture into friendship, are you satisfied?”

Draco tried to keep his drawling voice void of emotion, but Theo had known him long enough to hear the underlying excitement.

“Not even close, but I suppose that will have to do. Now sit down you secretive wanker.”

Theo clasped a hand on Draco’s back when he went to sit and then turned his attention back to Hermione.

“Well, Granger, it’s been lovely meeting you and I look forward to what I’m sure will be many more encounters in the future.”

She smiled brightly at him, and he returned it in full force.

“However, with my suspicions now confirmed, I’m going to head out of here before mister doom and gloom,” he tilted his head in Draco’s direction, “decides that his patience has run thin and hexes me into the next century.”

“It was nice to meet you too, Theo, you’re welcome to join us here any time.”

Hermione’s response had Theo grinning and Draco dropping his head into his hands.

“You have no idea what you’ve just agreed to subject yourself to, Granger,” Draco groaned.

“You’re just jealous that I carry all the charisma in this friendship.” Theo said somewhat indignantly. He gathered his supplies into his bag and then slung it over his shoulder.

“See you tonight, Drake, don’t be too late.”

Draco, his head still pressed against the table, threw up a hand and waved Theo away exasperatedly in a way that only made him chuckle harder.

“See you around Granger,” and with a final wink, Theo made the turn out of the alcove.

It was silent for a moment, and then Draco lifted his head and said rather drily.

“Well, that’s Theodore Nott, for you.”

“He’s certainly a character,” Hermione offered, and Draco rolled his eyes.

“Oh no, one meeting in and you’re already as charmed by him as the rest of them.”

“I don’t know, Draco, he seemed to know quite a bit about you. For a boy who keeps so many secrets, you must like him more than you’re letting on if he knows so many of them.”

Draco’s grey eyes met her brown ones and his tense features softened.

“You’re right,” he conceded. “Theo is my best friend, and outside of you he’s the only one at this school who really knows anything about me.”

Hermione’s heart beat faster with Draco’s admission. She knew things about him that no one else knew.

“Theo’s upbringing was, rough, to say the least. You’ll have to ask him about it sometime, I feel it’s not my place to tell you, but because of that he spends a lot his time outside of school with me and my parents.”

Hermione nodded.

“So his thoughts about, um, pure blood politics?…” she trailed off, unsure of how to phrase her question in a less offensive way. Luckily, Draco caught on quickly.

“He has the same views that I do, and he knows the games I have to play at this school. Fortunately for Theo, his family doesn’t quite have the reputation that mine does, so he can get away with blending in with the crowd more than making a statement.”

“Yeah, he said as much before you arrived here.” Hermione admitted and Draco’s eyebrow quirked.

“Oh, did he now? And what else did Mr. Nott have to say to you before my arrival?”

“Hmm wouldn’t you like to know,” she replied with a demure grin.

“Hermione.”

Draco growled her name playfully and it sent a rush of tingles through her stomach. She loved when he called her by her first name.

“Yes Draco?” She responded and watched a small shiver pass through him when she used his.

“I think I may have underestimated the trouble I was getting into with you,” he murmured, his grey eyes blazing.

“You still have time to run,” she whispered back.

“Not a chance.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Trying to juggle her time between her Slytherins and her Gryffindors was becoming more and more difficult for Hermione. But determined to not give up one or the other, she spent much of her time multitasking. On one particularly busy day, Hermione was racing from her classes to the Great Hall. If she hurried, she would have just enough time to grab a quick lunch before meeting up with Ron and Harry before Transfiguration. She was so focused on reviewing her mental check list that she was no longer paying attention to her surroundings as she walked. Her head was down, her thoughts were elsewhere, and she suddenly collided with a faceful of school robes.

“Oh!”

The books she carried tumbled everywhere, and the body she had run into stumbled forward.

“Watch where you’re going, mudblood.”

Gregory Goyle’s low voice growled at her. Of course, of all the people she could run into it had to be a Slytherin.

“Sorry, Goyle,” she muttered, assessing her surroundings. There were very few students around her, and none of them Gryffindors. Great.

“Do I need to teach you about how to respect your superiors?” He taunted and she scoffed.

“I wouldn’t exactly consider you a superior of anything, except maybe being an idiot, you do seem to excel in that.”

Gregory may have been dumb, but he was twice her size. He seemed to realize this advantage, and he stepped forward menacingly.

“No one here to save you now, mudblood.”

Hermione reached into her pocket for her wand, but it fallen along with her books. She took a breath and tried to remain calm about the situation. Certainly, he wouldn’t kill her, right? A murder in school seemed rather extreme. Except, Myrtle was killed in the school, and they had definitely mentioned some serious maiming that occurred in prior Triwizard Tournaments, so perhaps being killed wasn’t as unlikely as initially anticipated. Goyle took another step forward, wand in hand. Hermione stepped back instinctively.

“Not so brave when you’re all alone,” he chuckled darkly. “Just wait and see how—ow!”

Goyle held his side in pain and looked behind him. There didn’t appear to be any students that were the culprit, however looking at their location in coordination with the burning hex he was trying to rub out of his muscle seemed to remind him that there were still people who could tell on him for his deeds.

“You’re lucky we aren’t alone,” he said at last, scowling at her.

“Watch yourself.”

Hermione stared at him defiantly but did not respond. He turned and tromped down the hall.

The Gryffindor waited a moment before a tall shadow stepped out of an entry way and walked towards her smirking.

“Superior in being an idiot? Nice one, Granger.”

“You threw a hex at a fellow Slytherin? For me? I’m touched, Theo.”

Theo rolled his eyes and bent down to help her pick up her scattered items.

“Just because he’s a Slytherin doesn’t mean he isn’t a git.”

“Yeah, or maybe you’re just an exceptionally good friend,” she grinned, and Theo barked out a laugh.

“Ugh, you Gryffindors and your positivity. It’s going to take me years to get used to it.”

“Years, you say?”

“Why yes, Granger, you seem to forget that despite our shortcomings, Slytherins are quite loyal to those who we care about.”

“Are you saying you care about me, Theo?”

He looked into her curious honey-colored eyes and said in feigned exasperation.

“They don’t call you the brightest witch of our age for nothing.”

 

A few days later, Hermione was walking back from the owlery with Ginny when Ron came running towards them.

“Hermione! Ginny! You’ll never believe it. It was absolutely brilliant!”

“What was brilliant, Ron?”

Hermione hadn’t seen the boy this excited since the Chudley Cannons made it to the National semi-finals the year before.

“Mad Eye turned Malfoy into a ferret!”

“He what?” Her jaw dropped.

“Malfoy was being a royal git per usual and Professor Moody transfigured him into a white ferret,” Ron shouted, his eyes abnormally bright. “It was the best thing I’ve seen all year.”

“I can’t believe I missed that!” Ginny whined but Hermione barely processed it over the dull roar in her ears. Draco had been fully transfigured, which was against school rules. What’s worse is that it had been a public affair, making it all the more humiliating for him. A spark of anger flared in her chest.

“That’s totally against the rules! Teachers can’t transform students!”

“Oh come on ‘Mione you know he deserved it. You should’ve seen the look on Malfoy’s face when McGonagall showed up and Mad Eye had to change him back. He was terrified.”

“How would you feel if someone turned you into an animal against your will?!” Hermione all but yelled and Ron’s forehead scrunched in surprise.

“Oi, lighten up will ya? You’re really putting a damper on the spirit of things.”

“The spirit of things?” She sputtered. “That man is supposed to be a professor! Those actions are completely out of line and—“

“Hermione, calm down,” Ron rolled his eyes and her last semblance of control snapped.

“Do not tell me to calm down Ronald Weasley,” she hissed, jerking her chin upwards to look up at him in fury.

“Who’s to say that Professor Moody won’t do the same thing to you the next time you don’t know the answer in the class?”

“He won’t. Mad Eye’s an auror, he knows a bad egg when he sees one.”

At this, Hermione had enough. She turned on her heels and stormed away, ignoring the calls of protest from Ginny. By now, the spark of anger she’d felt earlier had spread into an inferno, consuming her every waking thought. How dare that professor illegally transform Draco, and how dare everyone else have the audacity to laugh about it. Before she even realized it, Hermione was running through the hallways, up the stairs, and through the library. Running until she made it to their alcove, adrenaline still coursing in her veins. Their usual table was already occupied by two heads of blonde and brown. She marched forward.

Draco was hunched forward with his head on the table. Theo spoke softly at him with no response. When he turned his head to see Hermione his eyes glittered with unspoken relief.

“Draco,” Hermione’s voice shook with barely contained rage as she drew nearer to the pair. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. It was wrong and you didn’t deserve it.”

At last, Draco lifted his head to meet her gaze. His grey eyes were dull, and he spoke weakly.

“Don’t I deserve it, though? All I am to them is a Slytherin prick. I egged it on, and I had it coming. They all seemed to think so, anyway.”

He resumed staring at the table in defeat.

“Draco look at me.”

When he refused, Hermione reached out both hands and placed one on each side of his face, angling his vision towards her. She would be damned if he was going to continue to believe the lies that were spinning in his head.

“Now listen to me. You didn’t deserve this.”

“Granger, it doesn’t matter—“

“Yes, it does,” she cut him off. “It matters because you matter. You’re important to me, Draco, and therefore I care about what happens to you, and that includes caring about what rules half-crazed professors decide to break.”

Draco watched her, grey meeting brown, fear meeting courage. She could see the barest tint of pink staining his cheeks.

“Thank you,” he finally responded.

His words, however, did not match his defeated actions. Hermione would not give up so easily. Seeing that words were not enough to break his melancholy she attempted a new approach.

“Stand up.”

“What?” Confusion graced his angled features.

“You heard me. Up.”

Draco stood from his seat uncertainly. Hermione barely gave him the time to stand fully erect before she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. It was the first time they’d touched beyond their hands. Draco’s body stiffened for only a moment before he accepted the gesture and wrapped his long arms around her torso, eventually leaning his cheek against the top of her head.

“Do you believe me yet?” She murmured into his chest. She felt him sigh slightly.

“I don’t deserve your friendship.”

She pulled back and stared up at him fiercely.

“Yes, you do. Those people out there? They don’t know you. They don’t know the burdens that you carry and the ways you’ve been forced to cope with them. Their opinions of you don’t matter. What matters, is that you know who you are.”

“And who is that, exactly?” He whispered pleadingly. She leveled him with her most determined look.

“You are Draco Malfoy. And you are good.”

A warm tingling began in Draco’s chest and spread to his extremities. Her words fueled him with a renewed sense of purpose. He was good. At least, he would try to be, for her.

“Okay,” he breathed out. “I’m good.”

She smiled up at him, and he couldn’t help but marvel at how one smile could change his entire outlook on everything. He’d agree to just about anything to see that smile again.

“Theo!” She called, breaking her gaze from Draco at last.

“Come on, join the hug.”

Theo, kicked back at his seat watching the scene unfold, merely rolled his eyes.

“Granger, darling, Slytherins aren’t really the type for group hugs.”

“I don’t really care, Theodore,” she replied sweetly before adding, “you know you want to.”

Theo groaned, but he stood up nonetheless and threw his arms around the pair.

“Get off of me Nott,” Draco growled but Theo only chuckled and moved in closer.

“Oh come on Draco,” he teased, “good people love hugs.”

Draco harrumphed but said nothing more. After a few moments, the three broke apart and Hermione took her seat beside them, pulling out books.

“Well, might as well get some studying done before Harry or Ginny try to find me.”

“Your dedication to schoolwork is astounding,” Theo spoke drily, and Hermione stuck her tongue out at him.

“Almost as dedicated as you are to being a smart ass.”

Draco watched the pair continue to banter and a smile tugged at his lips. Today had been horrible, yes, but somehow Hermione had managed to make it better. Between her and Theo, maybe he could survive his lies just a little bit longer.

 

Chapter 4

The first task of the Triwizard was nearing, and with each passing day Hermione was becoming more and more stressed. Her and Harry were no closer to figuring out how he was supposed to combat a dragon, let alone steal something from it. She’d poured herself into text after text, everything from fire resistant shields to accelerated apparition, but nothing she could come up with was going to work. The time she normally spent in their alcove talking to Draco or Theo was now spent reading intently, her frown deepening with every dead end. As Hermione’s stress continued to grow, so did Draco and Theo’s concern for her. To them it appeared that she had sloughed off all other responsibilities, including taking care of herself, and although it was a valiant effort to save her best friend, they feared if she skipped another meal she would drop dead of malnutrition.

With the tournament only three days away, it appeared the loyal Gryffindor had hit her breaking point.

She slammed yet another book down onto the table, when she looked up her eyes were brimmed with tears.

“I can’t do it!” She cried, before dropping her head onto the table. Draco and Theo shared a look.

“Hermione,” Draco said gently, peeling the closed book out of her curled fingers.

“It’s going to be okay, we’ll figure something out.”

“How?” Her voice was muffled from the oak table.

“I’m supposed to be the brightest witch of our age and I can’t even figure out how to fight a bloody dragon? What good is my brain if it doesn’t pull through when I need it to!” Her tone was lined with desperation and Draco’s heart dropped to his stomach.

“Well, that’s why you have us, we’ll help you.”

The words were out of Draco’s mouth before he even realized what he had said. Hermione lifted her head, barely, to stare at him inquisitively.

“Help me how?”

Draco looked to Theo, his eyes wide.

“We’ll help talk you through it,” Theo supplied, he returned Draco’s gaze with a look that was the equivalent of telling him to keep it together.  Draco sucked in a breath.

“Yeah, we’ll come up with a plan, together.”

Hermione stared at the two boys, her eyes bouncing between them, and then she broke down into tears. At this, Theo and Draco’s gazes met again, panic now outlining their features.

“Shhh, we’re sorry, we didn’t mean to make you cry.” Draco tentatively placed his hand on her back and started rubbing circles.

“These aren’t sad tears,” she blubbered, “they’re h-happy tears. You boys are so sweet, Ron hasn’t offered to help. He’s barely speaking to us as it is, and he’s supposed to be our best friend!”

“I think you know our stance on that ginger git,” Theo muttered, and Hermione barked out a laugh.

The boys sat for a few minutes, giving her a moment to compose herself.

“Alright Granger,” Theo started when the sniffling had ended. “Tell us about this challenge.”

Hermione proceeded to tell them everything she knew about the task, which turned out to be very little. Her description was followed by questions, mostly from Draco, and then a discussion of every possible solution they could think of, most of which Hermione had already considered.

“I can’t believe they’re making kids face dragons,” Draco muttered, still appalled. “No wonder they stopped this tournament for so long.”

“It’s ridiculous, I know,” Hermione replied, the despair leaking back into her words.

“We need to look through your notes again, we must be missing something,” Draco insisted, and Hermione nodded.

“Well as fun as that sounds,” Theo’s low drawl cut their conversation and they turned to him.

“I think the answer to our problem is rather simple.”

“Please do enlighten us, Nott.” Draco’s voice dripped with sarcasm. Theo ignored him completely, turning instead to the Gryffindor.

“Granger, what does Harry love to do the most?”

Hermione, although a bit confused why he was asking about Harry’s hobbies, answered after a beat.

“He loves to fly.”

Theo smiled, as if those words were exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Why yes, I think you’re right.”

Next, he turned to his friend.

“Now Draco, would you consider Harry to be a good flyer?”

“Yes, one of the best I’ve seen,” Draco admitted, “but never tell him I said that.”

Hermione snorted but otherwise kept quiet.

“Well, boys and girls, therein lies our solution. Harry loves to fly, Harry is an excellent flyer, therefore he can use those very skills to outfly a dragon. Simple.”

“Theo,” Hermione said, rather exasperatedly, “we’ve already covered this idea tonight. Contestants aren’t allowed to bring anything with them into the tournament other than their wand. I’ve already looked into every body levitation or temporary flying spell in the library but they’re all too complicated to learn in three days. If he doesn’t get to bring his broom, he can’t fly.”

“He doesn’t need to bring his broom,” Theo replied. “He just needs to summon it.”

Draco’s eyes flitted between Theo’s smug grin and the expressions on Hermione’s face, which shifted from shock, to calculation, to excitement.

“A summoning charm,” she whispered. “Easy enough to be learned but effective enough to actually work.” She breathed out what looked like a sigh of relief, and then her face broke into a wide grin.

“Theo, this is brilliant!”

She haphazardly threw her books into her bag and stood up.

“I have to go find Harry, if we start training now, we might have just enough time for him to get the spell down.”

She turned to Draco, smiling shyly. “Thank you for all of your help, Draco. I don’t know how I would’ve made it through the last few weeks without you.”

“Of course,” he replied, smiling softly back at her.

Hermione then leaned across the table and grabbed Theo’s face between her hands, kissing both of his cheeks.

“I owe you one, Nott, and some day I’ll be sure to tell Harry that he does too.”

Theo grinned.

“All in a days work, Granger.”

Laughing she grabbed her bag and raced out of the library, if she was quick enough, she could find Harry before he went up to his room.

 

Theo leaned back into his seat and turned to Draco, smirking at the darkening expression on his face.

“So, are you going to tell Hermione, or should I?”

“What more could you possibly have to tell her tonight?” Draco all but growled and Theo’s smirk morphed into a grin.

“That you fancy the pants off of her.”

“I—“ Draco was at a loss for words.

Theo stood up to leave, clapping him on the back as he passed.

“No need to deny it, Drake, I’ve known since first year.”

And then he walked out of the library, leaving Draco to his own thoughts.

Chapter 5

They did not see Hermione again until the day of the first task. Draco and Theo traveled together from the dungeons to the stadium, slowing their pace as to avoid having to walk with the rest of the Slytherins.

“Do you think he learned it?” Theo murmured, barely moving his lips. Draco gave him an incredulous look.

“This is Hermione Granger we’re talking about. If she wanted him to learn something he damn well was going to learn it.”

Theo rolled his eyes and muttered something under his breath. It sounded a lot like “bloody enamored you are,” but Draco didn’t call it to question. Instead, he changed the subject.

“Mother and Father are coming today, they’re probably already in the stands.”

“Excellent,” Theo grinned, “I can’t wait to tell them all about her.”

Draco’s eyes widened.

“Theo! Don’t you dare.”

“Oh come on Drake, you know they’ll be thrilled.”

“Yeah, they probably will be.” But no one else would ever believe that truth, he thought to himself sadly.

The boys continued their trek until a familiar voice called to them from the crowd.

“Draco! Theo! Over here!” They looked up and smiled at Narcissa Malfoy’s delicate wave, moving their way through the throngs of witches and wizards to get to her. Upon arrival, she wrapped both boys into a warm hug.

“My boys,” she cooed, “look at how big you’ve gotten.”

“Now, now, Cissa, you’re probably embarrassing them.” Lucius Malfoy’s deep voice chuckled from beside her. He reached out his hand and shook Draco’s once firmly, then he did the same to Theo.

“Father,” Draco’s greeting was curt.

“Hello, son,” he responded in a similar manner.

“Theodore.”

“Sir.”

With the greetings through, Lucius led the group back to their seats. They were excellent for viewing the event, but they had the distinct disadvantage of obscuring the view of the champion’s family sections, where Draco was sure Hermione would be.

He had almost given up hope of seeing her altogether, when he finally caught a glimpse of her curly brown locks leaving the competitors area and heading to the stands. She was walking with the Weasley girl, their hands clutched together tightly. Hermione looked so nervous, one could’ve thought she was the one competing in the event. At this realization, Draco stilled. Was she nervous because she cared about her friend, or were her and Harry more than he had realized? As he continued to think, a deep hot jealousy began churning in his stomach. He tried to deny it to himself, but it was no use. He wanted Hermione to worry about him, to care about him the way she cared about her little band of Gryffindors. A tap on his shoulder brought his attention back to his family.

“Huh?” He looked back at the concerned eyes of his mother.

“Draco are you feeling well? You haven’t answered any of my questions.”

“Sorry mother,” he apologized, “I must of been distracted.”

Narcissa evaluated her son with a curious look, and then realization swept across her face with a smile.

“Who is she?”

Draco paled. How did mothers know everything?

“Who is who, mother?”

At this she rolled her eyes.

“Don’t play coy with me, Draco Lucius Malfoy, I’m your mother. I know when you’re lying, and when you’re hiding something. Today it appears you’re doing both, now who is she?”

“It’s nothing,” he responded. Unsatisfied with his answers, Narcissa turned to Theo.

“Theodore, who is she?”

Draco glanced at Theo, pleading in his eyes, but Theo smirked at him the way all brothers do when they have the upper hand.

“Curly brown hair, sitting down there in Harry Potter’s family booth looking like she might faint.”

“Hermione Granger,” Narcissa breathed out quietly and then looked at Lucius.

Lucius muttered a sound muffling charm and then turned to his son with a stern face. After a moment of uncomfortable silence in which Draco considered throwing himself off the bleachers and running, his father spoke.

“Well, I wish I could say I was surprised, son,” his emotional facade cracking into a smile. “But you’ve only talked about her in every letter home for four years.”

Draco blushed furiously while Theo laughed beside him.

“For being a Slytherin, you’re not very surreptitious.”

“Yeah, and for being my best friend you’re not very loyal,” Draco grumbled, and his family laughed.

“For the record,” he continued, “Hermione and I are just friends. We study in the library together sometimes.”

“Sometimes?” Theo scoffed. “Try nearly every day.”

Narcissa gave Lucius a knowing smile and then turned to her son.

“Draco, we’re happy about your new…friendship, but you must remember how important it is for our cover to remain intact.”

“I know, mother,” Draco confirmed. “She hasn’t told anyone, and she won’t, I know it.”

Narcissa looked thoughtfully at her son for a moment. She wasn’t sure when he had grown so much, but she recognized that determined set in his jaw, just like his fathers. It was clear that Draco had already made up his mind on this, and it was only a matter of time before he realized just how serious his bond to Miss Granger might become. The only way forward now was acceptance.

“Alright, little Dragon,” she conceded. “Just remember to be careful.”

She placed a hand on her husband’s shoulder, and he removed the sound charm. The family then schooled their composure, resuming the roles they so carefully had to play.

 

The end of the first task was a blur of excitement, as Gryffindor and Hufflepuff students rushed their respective champions. Despite his inclinations against it, Draco couldn’t help but acknowledge that Harry’s flying had been brilliant. He watched the crowd warily, sighing a bit when he saw Hermione run and jump into Harry’s outstretched arms.

“It’s not like that, between the two of them,” Theo commented from beside him. Draco continued to face forward.

“How do you know?”

“I know because she doesn’t look at him the way she looks at you.”

Right as the words left Theo’s mouth, Hermione pulled out of Harry’s embrace and turned to scan her surroundings. Her eyes locked on Draco’s and through the crowd she smiled widely. He felt his own face return the expression. The crowd pressed in, breaking their eye contact, but the grin persisted on Draco’s face. Theo shook his head.

“You’ve got it bad, mate.”

“Yeah, Theo, I think you’re right.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione did not join the boys in the library that night, nor did she appear the four nights after that. Draco’s anxieties grew each day. Had she decided their friendship was no longer worth the effort?

He had noticed that his least favorite Weasley appeared to be back in good graces with her and Potter, and the golden trio was full once again. Draco tried to remain neutral about the situation, tried to focus on any other thing to keep his mind off of her, but it was no use. He became moodier by the minute, snapping at anyone who set him off in the slightest. After one particularly irate statement to Pansy, even the Slytherins began to give him a wide girth of space. The only person seemingly unaffected by his mood swings was Theo, who carried on as if Draco was as happy as a clam at high water.

Draco trudged his way to the back corner of the library. He’d left Theo in the common room, claiming he needed to be alone to cool down. The truth was, he wasn’t angry, he was sad. He hadn’t realized just how much he had come to look forward to his time with Hermione, and now that it was gone, he was struggling to determine how he would move forward. Draco was so lost in his pondering that it took him until he was nearly to his regular table to realize that he wasn’t alone.

“Draco!” Hermione smiled at him, and Draco blinked at her.

“Hello,” he replied, a bit stunned.

“I’m so glad you’re here! It’s been a crazy past few days,” she said in a rush. “I barely got to slip away tonight, but I missed you.”

“You missed me?” Draco’s shift to an indignant tone made Hermione take a pause.

“Of course I did,” she said carefully. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Oh I don’t know, Granger,” he sneered, “maybe because I haven’t heard from you in over a week. Too busy being Gryffindor’s golden girl to remember anyone but yourself?”

He watched hurt flash in Hermione’s eyes, and it felt like a slicing wound in his chest.

“Why are you acting like this?”

Draco’s anger melted at her broken tone.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, suddenly ashamed of how childish he was acting.

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I just—I saw that you and your friends have all made up, and I assumed you didn’t need me anymore.”

She stared at him.

“Draco,” she spoke gently, “you’re my friend. I care about you, and I miss you when you’re not around.”

She took his hand between hers.

“I love Harry and Ron, I do, but they can be idiots sometimes.”

Draco snorted.

“The friendship I have with you is different than the one I have with them. You understand me in a way that those two would never be able to.

You’re perceptive, and attentive, and a swot just like me, even if you pretend you’re not. I’m sorry if I’ve made you doubt that, but you don’t have to worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

Her words made his heart palpitate rapidly in his chest and he nodded, afraid that if he opened his mouth to speak, he’d admit to something she might not be ready to hear. She seemed to recognize this, and she didn’t push him.

“I am not a swot,” he finally joked weakly.

“Says the boy who finishes his essays a week before they’re due,” she teased with a smile.

“Now sit down, I want to catch you up on all that I’ve been up to.”

“Bossy bossy little Gryffindor,” he tutted and she rolled her eyes.

“Says the moody Slytherin.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Hey what’s the difference between a hinkypunk and a grindylow?”

Hermione sighed and peeled her eyes away from her textbook to meet the green gaze of her friend. Her, Ron, and Harry were sitting at a table in the Gryffindor Common Room. The boys had complained recently that she was spending too much time holed up alone in the library, so she forfeited one of her secret rendezvous to stay with them instead. The trio were supposed to be working on their Care of Magical Creatures essay, but it appeared as usual the boys didn’t want to do their own homework.

“Page 167 of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them,” she replied.

“Come on ‘Mione, I’m tired of reading, and I know you know the answer.” Harry jutted his lip out in a pout, and she rolled her eyes.

“Harry James Potter, how are you supposed to learn anything if I just give you the answers?”

“We’re still learning, it‘s just from you instead of Hagrid,” Ron chimed in beside her.

“Besides, you explain it better than the book does.”

“I explain it exactly like the book does,” she argued.

“Wellll, you explain it faster than I could read it.”

“You’re not even the one who asked the question.”

He gave her a sheepish smile.

“I just so happen to also need to know the answer.”

Hermione leaned into her hands and groaned.

“You two are helpless, you know that?”

“Oh come on ‘Mione, cheer up,” Ron slung an arm around her shoulder.

“We’re better company than the books in the library.”

“What Ron is trying to say,” Harry added in, “is that we miss having you around.”

Hermione eyes flitted between the two of them, a nagging guilt churning in her stomach. She should tell them. They’d be mad, at first, but eventually they’d come around to the idea. Even if they didn’t warm up to it, they still deserved to know what she’d been up to for the last few months. They were her best friends, after all, she could trust them.

But she wouldn’t. Not with this. In that moment, Hermione realized just how important Draco, even Theo, had become to her. She was loyal, but not only to the Gryffindors. Her choice was clear, and she knew that if it came down to it, she’d protect her Slytherins despite the consequences.

“I quite like my books, thank you very much,” she replied at last, and Harry smiled at her.

“Yeah, yeah, we know.”

No, Harry, she thought to herself, you have no idea.

Chapter 6

“Shoot, Draco, we’ve missed dinner,” Hermione said, pulling a watch out of the pockets of her robes. A few weeks had passed since the first task, and Harry had been so swept up in reuniting with Ron that it was now easy for her to slip away almost nightly. On this particular night, her and Draco sat side by side on the floor of their usual alcove. Hermione was leaned up against the bookshelves reading, while he practiced his nonverbal spells. He had been trying for the past hour to change her hair from brown to blonde with little success.

“Not a problem,” he replied breezily, “I know where we can get something to eat.”

“What, there’s a secret restaurant that I don’t know about hidden in the castle?” She joked, but the serious look on Draco’s face made her wonder if her comment was more truth than comedy.

Draco grabbed her hand and led her out of the library and down the hallways, dodging into nooks each time they heard passing footsteps. There were few people out in the corridors at this time of night, most students were back in their common rooms by now. She tried to ignore the tingling sensation in her fingers where her skin met his. Holding hands could be a friendly gesture, after all.

“Draco, if you’re taking me to a special Slytherin restaurant reserved only for purebloods or some shite like that I’m going to scream.”

He coughed out a laugh.

“I will admit where we are going has something to do with a Slytherin but I assure you that blood status is not taken into account.” He had led her to what seemed like an abandoned hallway near the dungeons. The lighting was reduced to the torches on the walls and there wasn’t a window in sight.

“Put your hood up,” Draco murmured to her, his hand slipping out of hers so that he could pull up his own.

Hermione did as he asked without comment, which was difficult for her to do considering the number of questions burning the tip of her tongue. He tapped his wand on her head once and she felt a disillusionment charm slither down her body. She shivered.

“Sorry,” he whispered, “when we’re in there, stay behind me and don’t say anything. I promise that I will explain everything to you when we leave.”

They reached what appeared to be their destination, which was the door of an unused classroom. Draco knocked four times.

“Enter,” a male voice called. The voice sounded familiar, but Hermione couldn’t place where she’d heard it before. The mystery was resolved the moment they walked in to the classroom to find Blaise Zabini sitting at an otherwise empty table, feet kicked up and his arms crossed.

“Draco,” he said with an easy grin. “What a delightful surprise.”

“Blaise,” Draco spoke smoothly. Hermione recognized this tone, it was the one he used when he was playing the Pureblood Prince. Draco and Blaise may be friendly, but he clearly wasn’t privy to everything.

“Who’s your friend?” Blaise asked and Hermione stilled. How could he possibly know there was someone else with him?

“Don’t you have a different question to ask?”

Draco sighed, almost sounding bored.

“Fine, have it your way. To what do I owe the pleasure tonight, Draco Malfoy?”

“Dinner. Preferably with a bit more privacy than the Great Hall can provide.”

Blaise stroked his finger against his chin thoughtfully.

“Hmmm, a private dinner you say? Well, it is easier than murder, yet again so are most things.”

“Name the price, Zabini,” Draco growled. Hermione watched the exchange between the two with wide eyed apprehension.

“I’m feeling generous tonight, and you have been good to me, Malfoy, so I suppose your request is worth just one.”

One? Thought Hermione. One what?

“Make the deal,” Draco said, holding out his wand.

“A deal is made,” Blaise responded following suit. A sparkling red light shot between the two wands, connecting them as if it were a string between two cans.

“What secret do you have for me, Draco?”

“I’m not dining alone.”

Blaise rolled his eyes.

“Nice try, but you’ll have to give me more than that. You eating dinner with someone is of little use to me, for all I know that could be Nott standing behind you.”

Draco chuckled darkly.

“The person with which I am dining is not a Slytherin.”

This news seemed to peak Blaise’s interest and he leaned forward.

“And who exactly is it?”

Draco sent him a cruel smile.

“Now, now, Blaise, you only said one secret.”

An emotion flashed through Blaise’s eyes, cold and calculating, but he schooled his features quickly.

“Fair enough, keep her identity a secret, Draco, you know it won’t stay hidden from me for long.”

Draco tilted his head,

“And when exactly did I say that I was leaving with a witch?”

Blaise stared at him and then said without flinching.

“My my my Draco, if it’s not a witch then you may have even more secrets than I imagined.”

To Draco’s credit, he also held complete composure.

“Pay the debt.”

Blaise blew out a slow breath and then smiled like the Cheshire Cat. His bright white teeth glinted against the lamplight in stark contrast to his ebony skin.

“Secret passageway third floor corridor, there’s a room built into the wall on the left. Call for Tippy and she’ll bring you anything you want. Oh, and be back before curfew. I may be able to distract, confound, or eliminate most threats, but even I can’t control Mrs. Norris after dark.”

Draco stood silent for a moment, just long enough to make Blaise’s fingers twitch, and then he nodded.

“A debt is paid.” With his words, the light between the two wands extinguished. Draco turned toward the exit, and Hermione followed quickly on his heels.

“Have a lovely evening,” Blaise drawled,

“pleasure doing business with you.”

Draco closed the door without a response.

 

They made it up two flight of stairs before Hermione couldn’t contain herself any longer.

“Draco what in the bloody hell was that!” She whispered furiously.

“A business transaction.”

“Vague Slytherin answers don’t cut it,” she snapped. He turned to her looking a bit sheepish, and offered her his hand. When she accepted, he tugged her the final few steps to stand in front of an oil painting of Hogwarts. She’d never noticed this particular painting before, but that wasn’t surprising. The corridors were lined with portraits and landscapes, many of which told you to keep moving if you lingered for too long. She’d found it best to stop letting her eyes wander years ago.

Draco pressed his thumb onto the painted doorway of the castle and the entire photo swung open on its frame, revealing a stone lined passage way.

“Ladies first” he murmured, and she glared at him before stepping forward. He followed and the frame swung shut behind them.

“Start talking.”

She made out the shape of Draco sighing in the darkness.

“Blaise Zabini is the sole heir to his mother’s fortune,” Draco spoke quietly, his words echoing off the stone walls as they moved towards a crack of light seeping out from under a doorway carved into the narrow hallway.

“He already has more money than he knows what to do with, which makes being a businessman a bit of a bore. However, Blaise is ambitious, and he discovered a way to make his business ventures worthwhile. Instead of money, or goods, he makes his clients pay in secrets.”

“What does he possibly want people’s secrets for?”

Draco huffed out a laugh.

“Typical Gryffindor, never thinks to use a person’s weakness to your advantage.” She shoved him and he stumbled over the paved cobblestones.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, and she grinned before asking,

“If he just spreads secrets, why would anyone ever want to tell him any?”

“Because he doesn’t tell secrets, he never has. His power is the potential.”

“A throne of what-ifs,” she murmured, “it’s downright evil, but at the same time, brilliant.”

He nodded in agreement.

“Blaise is many things, but dumb is not one of them.”

“What about that red magic between your wands?”

“A simple binding spell,” he explained, “it’s a bit like a wizard’s oath, but in a milder sense. The spell holds the two wand holders in an agreement, and it keeps it that way until the debt is paid.”

“And what happens if it isn’t paid?”

“The person who breaks the binding gets a strong dose of a boils hex, rather nasty one if you ask me. People know better than to trick Blaise Zabini.”

The pair entered the room to find a solid oak table dressed in a white tablecloth. On the table was an assortment of cheese and crackers, lit by the flickering glow of silver candlesticks. Draco pulled out a chair and offered it to her with an extravagant wave.

“M’lady.”

“Oh my," she spoke drily, "what a gentleman.”

He took the seat next to her and then turned to face her. Hermione had gotten rather good at reading Draco’s facial expressions, but she hadn’t seen much of this one. If she had to guess, she would say he was nervous.

“So,” she decided to break the ice, “is there a reason you paid a secret for this private dinner?”

“Well I-,” he hesitated, “I need to tell you something. Something that I couldn’t risk being overheard in the library.”

Her heart began to beat faster in her chest.

“Okay,” she tried to gain control of the shakiness in her voice. “Out with it then.”

He cracked a small smile.

“There’s that Gryffindor courage rearing its ugly head.”

“Prat,” she said, rolling her eyes, but the action was affectionate.

Draco cleared his throat and eyed her warily.

“You told me once, that you wanted to know why I pretend to be something I’m not, and you said that you’d wait to hear it. Well, I’m ready to tell you.”

Hermione, suddenly incapable of words, nodded for him to continue.

“My family is part of the Sacred 28, and I come from two very long lines of purebloods. Because of who I am, everyone expects me to think that I’m entitled to anything I want, that I’m better than everyone else based on my blood,” he winced and then continued.

“But that’s not what my parents raised me to believe. They were raised to think they were somehow superior, and they believed it too, until they got to Hogwarts.” Draco paused for a moment and loosened his tie. Hermione’s eyes traced his movements.

“Things changed for both of them when they were enrolled here. I want to give them the chance to tell you their own stories, so I won’t go into too much detail, but what you need to know is that their ideas of blood purity and power completely changed. When they had me, they didn’t want me to believe in that rubbish, but they were thrown into a war.”

Hermione could tell that it was getting difficult for Draco to continue, so she reached out to grip his hand in encouragement.

“They didn’t want to be involved in the war, they were new parents, they thought it was dangerous and wrong, but their parents, my grandparents, didn’t agree. They told them to either pick the side of the Dark Lord, or lose their inheritance. They hated their choice, but they needed to take care of me, and they couldn’t do that if they were homeless. They were still trying to figure out a way to get out of it, but then Halloween night came to Godric’s Hollow.” Draco shuddered.

“The war was over, so some said, but my parents didn’t believe it. There were whisperings that he had not died, that he would be back, and my parents knew that if they traded sides, our family would be dead the moment he returned. So they made a new plan to keep us safe. They created roles for themselves, and eventually me, to play. And it worked. However it hasn’t been without it’s consequences.”

“Oh Draco.” Tears pricked behind her eyes. “That’s such a burden to have to carry all on your own.”

He smiled at her weakly.

“I haven’t always had to be alone. I have Theo, and now I have you. At least, I hope I do.”

She opened her mouth to respond but he continued.

“But if this friendship is too much, if this secret is more than you bargained for, I understand. I’ll let you go, no hard feelings. I’ll never tell anyone. And I’m sorry, if I’ve ever made you feel like this burden is yours to bear without your choosing. I just-“

“Draco, stop.” Her tone was firm enough to quiet him.

“I am in this with you, and I am not going anywhere. I made my choices, and I chose you. We’ll figure it out, together, secrets and all.”

The boy was silent for a moment. He blinked furiously and swiped at swiped at his eyes.

“Thank you,” he murmured at last.

“You don’t know how much this, how much you, mean to me.”

She rolled her eyes.

“If you took a second to look around, I think you’d see that I care about you just as much.” She shook the tension out of her shoulders and then sent him her flirtiest attempt at a smile.

“Now if you’re done with your secrets, I believe you did promise me dinner.”

Draco blew out a breath and then grinned.

“Tippy!”

The house elf appeared, and Draco made good on his promises. By the end of the night, once they’d snuck through the hallways back to their respective houses, Hermione’s cheeks hurt from her persistent smile. She was still smiling when she walked into the common room and was surprised to find she wasn’t alone.

“Hi ‘Mione,” Harry said, looking up from a desk at her arrival. His glasses were skewed on the bridge of his nose, and his hair appeared to be even messier than usual.

“Harry,” she replied cheerily, “what are you doing out here?”

“I’m trying to catch up on homework. I’ve been so busy with the task and —“ his sentence was cut short by a yawn.

“I need to finish this essay for transfiguration.”

Hermione held out her hand expectantly.

“I’ll do it.”

He blinked at her sleepily.

“Really?”

“Under almost all other circumstances, I’d make you do it yourself. We are here to learn after all. But I’m making an exception because you look like you’re about to fall asleep standing, and you’ll need all the strength you can muster these next few weeks. So yes, I will do it.”

He breathed out a sigh of relief and handed his scroll to her.

“Thanks, you’re the best, Hermione. I’m just going to lay down on the couch, rest for a few minutes. I’ll wake up to help you in a bit.”

She nodded, knowing full well that Harry would be asleep for the night the second his head hit the couch cushions.

“Hey,” he murmured as he settled into the seat across from her. She blinked at him, “yes?”

“Where were you tonight? You missed dinner.”

Hermione balked, for just a second, before saying rather quickly.

“Oh! Just the library. Got carried away in a book, forgot the time.”

“Strange,” he replied sleepily, “I checked the Mauraders Map, and I couldn’t find you there. I must of just missed you.”

“You must’ve,” she agreed, “I don’t know where else I would’ve been.” The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, but she swallowed and then gave him a tentative smile before her eyes darted back to the essay. So what if she couldn’t tell Harry everything? What he didn’t know wasn’t going to hurt him, and she could still help him, tonight was proof of that.

She had everything under control, she thought to herself as Harry drifted to sleep besides her. Though she did not realize how wrong she was.

Chapter 7

Professor McGonagall’s words echoed through Draco’s mind as he passed from class to class.

“We’ll be having a Yule Ball on Christmas.”

Raised as the pure blood that he was, Draco was all too familiar with the formalities of a ball. The clothing, the dancing, and the pleasantries all came second nature to him. The issue at hand was the fact that he knew exactly who he wanted to ask, and to do it would be a suicide mission.

“Cheer up Draco,” Theo groaned beside him at their normal library table. He’d had enough of his friend’s wallowing since the morning’s news.

“I know you want to ask her, and it sucks that you can’t, but it’s just one night.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Draco’s morose tone did not improve and Theo shoved out of his seat.

“Alright, that’s it, I’m done watching this pity party.”

Draco cocked an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Pity party. Granger taught it to me. It’s a muggle term for when someone sits in self induced sadness. Which is exactly what you’re doing right now.”

“Who’s doing what right now?” Hermione’s voice floated to them from the entrance of their alcove.

“Excellent timing Hermione,” Theo sounded almost relieved.

“If anyone can make Mister Doom and Gloom happy, it’s you.”

A matching blush bloomed on both Hermione and Draco’s cheeks but Theo ignored it. He met the Gryffindor halfway to the table, just out of earshot of his friend.

“He’s a bit bent out of shape about the ball,” he whispered into her ear.

She turned to him in confusion, not understanding how the Malfoy Heir could be put out by something that he was practically raised to attend.

“But why?”

“I’ll let him tell you that part,” Theo said with a grin before slipping away.

“So what’s this I hear about you not wanting to go to the ball?” Hermione didn’t miss the way Draco’s shoulders stiffened.

“Of course the blighter told you,” he muttered.

“Of course,” she agreed easily. “Now tell me what’s going on.”

Hermione had found over the course of the past several weeks that she could talk to Draco about anything. Being a Gryffindor, she was familiar with courage, but it was an entirely different experience to express vulnerability the way she could with him. They didn’t lie to one another, which made Draco’s current behavior even more interesting.

“It’s nothing,” he said quickly, “I just don’t have a date.”

“Oh.”

Oh is right. When Hermione had first learned of the ball, she was excited. She couldn’t wait to witness Draco and Theo at the height of their birthright behavior, it would give her material to tease them with for weeks. However the thought had never occurred to her until that moment that she wouldn’t be allowed to go with them. No, she would have to take a different date, sit with her Gryffindor friends, watch Ron and his utter lack of table manners, and hope that Harry or whoever she’d end up going with didn’t step on her feet too many times. A heavy feeling sunk in her stomach. Maybe Draco was right.

“Well I suppose I don’t either,” she replied at last. Draco stared at her, his grey orbs honing in on her brown ones. She could see that he wanted to say something, but he kept his jaw locked. Finally, he spoke again.

“Are you excited for it?”

“Uh, yes. I mean, no. I mean, I’m not sure.”

Hermione stuttered her way through the sentence. He raised an eyebrow at her nervous reply.

“What are you not sure about?”

“I don’t know how to wizard waltz!” She blurted the confession and then immediately turned red. She was one second away from standing up and running out of library entirely.

“Oh,” Draco spoke softly. There was a decision swirling in his eyes but she wasn’t sure what it was. At last, he stood up and offered her a hand.

“Let’s go,” he said.

“Go where?”

The corner of his mouth lifted.

“It’s a surprise. Do you trust me?”

Her hand fell into his without another moment’s hesitation, and his smirk shifted into a shy smile.

 

The pair walked hand in hand deeper into the library until they reached the study rooms that seventh year students often reserved for their NEWT revisions. Draco surveyed his surroundings, and upon seeing no one, tugged Hermione into an empty room, closing the door with a silencing and locking charm. He then spun towards the uncertain Gryffindor and fell into a deep bow.

“Um Draco, what are we doing?”

His head shot up and he grinned.

“We’re dancing.”

Hermione stared at him slack jawed.

“But there isn’t any music!” She finally spit out.

“Oh there isn’t?”

Draco muttered a spell that was unfamiliar to Hermione, and the sound of an orchestra began to pour out of the tip of his wand.

“It’s not creating the music, just echoing a song,” Draco explained.

“Like a tape recorder,” Hermione said and he stared blankly before replying,

“If I knew what that was I’m sure I’d agree with you.”

“I’ll explain it,” she offered but he shook his head.

“You’re trying to distract me.”

She opened her mouth to argue but decided against it.

“You know I don’t know how to dance,” she whispered. His gaze turned soft like molten silver.

“I know, and that’s why I’m teaching you.”

He reached out his hand formally, and she hesitated for only a moment before accepting.

“You promise you won’t laugh?”

“Never. Not at you.”

 

Hermione was raised by two dentists, she had never wanted for much, but a life of privilege paled in comparison to the opulent wealth that accompanied the Malfoy name. Of course she had never waltzed before, what kind of dentist attended monthly balls? However, as Draco led and twirled her around the study room, she couldn’t help but feel like it was the most natural thing in the world. When the song came to an end, the pair slowed and looked at one another.

“You did great,” Draco said, panting slightly.

“You’re a great teacher,” she replied, equally as breathless.

He stepped back, his hand lingering in hers for just a moment longer than necessary.

“So, uh, back to studying then?”

Hermione nodded.

They walked back to their alcove, Hermione’s heart sinking deeper into her stomach with each step. She may not know much about dancing, but she already knew that it would never make her feel as magical as it did to be in Draco’s arms.

It took all Draco had in him to walk Hermione back to their table. If it were up to him, they never would have stopped dancing. He had read a book once about a group of muggles in France that had danced in their village for weeks on end. They postponed their lives, shoved off responsibilities, some had even danced until death. It was absolute madness. That was how being with Granger made him feel sometimes, like he would gladly go mad as long as she was beside him.

 

The next day, Victor Krum asked Hermione to the ball. Draco had heard the scene unfold from behind a shelf in the library. He had to swallow back the bile that raised in his throat when he heard her say yes. He knew she had to agree to it, it would’ve been too difficult to explain herself out of a date with a professional quidditch player. That didn’t make him feel any better about the situation in the slightest. The problem was, Draco was used to getting what he wanted. He was an only child after all, and it didn’t come naturally to share things that he desired for himself. In fact, not getting his way made him downright ill tempered. Quite often, his temper led to mistakes, such as his decision to ask Pansy Parkinson to the ball later that evening in the Great Hall.

“Oh Drakey!” She’d squealed, throwing her arms around him.

“I’d be delighted!”

Draco barely paid attention to her hug, his eyes drifting to the response of a certain Gryffindor across the room. Hermione watched him with an unrecognizable expression on her face before standing and walking out of the hall. She didn’t look back. He wanted to call out to her, to tell her that it didn’t mean anything, but he didn’t. He knew, better than anyone, that keeping secrets came with a price. He dared to hope that the cost of keeping this one wouldn’t ruin everything.

Chapter 8

Hermione was an absolute vision. Her typically unruly hair was pinned back into an elaborate chignon, with only a few delicate curls framing her face. Her lashes, swiped dark with mascara, made her eyes look enchanted and doe-like, and her wrists tinkled with the sound of silver bracelets. The periwinkle dress she chose to wear that evening sashayed as she walked down the main staircase to the first floor landing. Krum was waiting for her at the base, he eyed her appreciatively, and when she reached him at last he offered her a gentlemanly hand. She smiled at him tentatively, and he gave one back in return.

“You look beautiful, Herminny,” he spoke in his thick accent, and she blushed.

“Thank you, Victor,” her voice shimmered, “you look rather dashing yourself.”

 

Several feet away, Draco stood watching, eyes tracking every move the pair made. His stomach was tied in knots. He didn’t think he had ever seen anyone look as breathtaking as she did in that moment. She almost glowed, an angel among men. Krum didn’t deserve her, no man truly deserved her, himself included. Be that as it may, it still didn’t stop him from wanting her. The yearning he felt was almost suffocating. To brush his hand along her face, to count the freckles on her cheeks, anything to just be closer. He tugged at his tie in a desperate attempt for oxygen but it was no use, the envy lined his throat, pulled at him until he couldn’t focus on anything else.

“Mate, get yourself together,” Theo muttered beside him, giving a swift kick to his shin.

“Shit!” Draco mumbled, rubbing at the leg bone beneath his dress robes.

“What was that for?”

“If you stared any longer I would’ve thought you were boiling Krum’s brain from the inside out.”

Draco didn’t have a chance to respond, as Pansy and her posey of birds rounded the corner.

“Over here, Draco!” she called. She looked pretty, he thought, in her pastel pink dress and curled hair, the epitome of an eligible pureblood heiress. But when he looked at her he felt nothing but emptiness. She stood waiting for him like a choice. With her, if he wanted to, he could live the life everyone expected of him. But he would never make that choice, not willingly anyway, not when he knew that the girl in the purple dress with the bright eyes and the wild heart existed. She was everything, but she wasn’t his. The thought nearly toppled him over in pain.

He stilled his expression, willed every part of him to look forward at Pansy and not past her to the Gryffindor, and he walked swiftly.

On the outside he looked calm, pleasant even, but on the inside his emotions continued to slosh around his stomach like a ship in a storm. Beside him, Theo recognized the look in Draco’s eyes all too well.

“Well shite,” he spoke under his breath.

“This is not going to end well.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“You’re a bloody traitor, that’s what!”

Ron’s words bounced in her skull as she ran down the deserted corridor. She didn’t have a destination in mind, other than she wanted to be far away from anyone else. Tears streamed liberally down both cheeks and she cried without restraint. Everything about tonight was horrible. Was there no one in this school who really cared? The heel of her shoe wedged between two cobblestones and she tumbled into a heap on the floor. After dislodging it, she pulled both shoes off and sat with her back leaned against the hallway wall, her head in her hands.

She didn’t really know how long she’d been crying, when a familiar voice cut through the sound of her sniffles.

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

She didn’t look up as the voice drew nearer, nor when it slid down to sit beside her.

“Go away Theo,” she hiccuped.

“Go away? After I’ve spent the last hour running around this blasted castle trying to find you? Yeah right, Granger, I’m not going anywhere.”

At his response, she lifted her head to look at him. He was still wearing his dress robes, but he certainly did have the mussed hair and red complexion of a person who had been running.

“You’ve been looking for me?” She asked.

“Of course I have,” he said somewhat exasperatedly. “You left the ball rather suddenly and then Draco left alone right after you looking like he might vomit. By the time I made it to the base of Gryffindor tower I saw Krum coming down the stairs telling one of his cronies that you had gotten in a fight with your red headed friend and taken off. I’ve been looking ever since.”

A fresh batch of tears burned behind her eyelids.

“Oh Theo, tonight has just been awful.”

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and she buried her head into his neck.

“Shhh, it’s alright now, I’ve got you.”

It took a few minutes longer for Hermione to regain composure. Theo said nothing other than the occasional word of encouragement. Finally, she leaned back and looked at him.

“Why are boys such prats?”

At this, he let out a loud guffaw.

“When you say ‘boys’ I surely hope you don’t mean me, your dearest friend who came to your rescue tonight.”

“Sorry, let me correct myself. Why are all boys other than Theo Nott such prats?”

Theo smiled at this.

“Well I can’t say that I know what makes Weasley such an insufferable git. None of his six siblings have ever seemed to give me quite the trouble that he causes. There’s one rotten apple on every tree I suppose.”

“Theo!” She admonished and he grinned at her cheekily before pushing forward.

“Draco, on the other hand, is a totally different story. The boy was jealous out of his mind tonight, Hermione, so anything he may have said or done was probably based on that.”

“Jealous?”

A look of confusion graced her tear stained features and Theo rolled his eyes.

“Merlin’s beard, you’re the brightest witch of our age, how could you possibly be this dense? Draco fancies you, quite a lot if I do say so myself, and seeing you with Krum was the teenage equivalent of another boy playing with his favorite broomstick.”

“He-but-Draco doesn’t fancy me!” Hermione sputtered. Theo gave her a look that spoke volumes more than his next words.

“Yes, he does. Don’t be daft.”

And before Hermione could open her mouth to argue again, he cut her off.

“And I know you fancy him too, so stop with all these dramatics and just snog already.”

Her jaw dropped open. She wanted to argue him, for the sake of her dignity above anything else, but she decided against it. Anything she said he wouldn’t believe. Instead she opted for the blaring truth of evening that proved that Draco did not have any interest in her.

“He made fun of me to Pansy, right in front of me,” she whispered, her shoulders drooping.

“He told her to look at the bookworm trying to dress up for a change, and that it was too bad that even makeup and a new dress couldn’t make someone look past my big hair and annoying mouth.”

Theo chuckled and Hermione looked up at him in alarm.

“Oh, so you think it too? Did everyone think I looked like a joke tonight? Like nothing I do or say can ever take me away from being Harry Potters brainy sidekick?”

He sensed her anger and held up his hands in surrender.

“Hermione, no. I was laughing at the fact that you think Draco believed what he said for even a minute.”

She looked distraught so he continued quickly.

“You were by the far the most beautiful witch at that ball, Beauxbaton girls be damned, and Draco knew it. He saw you there with another wizard and, well, even I don’t blame the bloke for not knowing how to handle it. You’re all he’s ever wanted, Hermione, and up until a few months ago, he thought he was never going to get a chance to tell you. Now, things are different, but be that as it may, he still didn’t get to be the one to escort you tonight, and it drove him mad. Mad enough to say things he immediately regretted.”

“I wouldn’t say immediately,” she said rather bitterly. “He certainly laughed it off with Pansy before I walked away.”

“Was he really laughing though?” Theo pressed. “Think back to it, Hermione, was it really Draco that you saw tonight, or the role he’s so used to playing?”

Hermione tried to focus in her memories. The more she thought, the more she realized Theo was right. Draco’s smiles had been reserved and disingenuous all night, and his laugh had sounded more like a cough, very different from the belly deep laughter she’d heard out of him many times in their library alcove.

Theo saw the realization sweeping across her face.

“The second he saw you leave, he bolted. Left Pansy there alone and everything, which is against just about every society rule his mother has ever taught him. He’s been in our room ever since, sick to his stomach. He has  sticking and silencing charms on his bed curtains and won’t answer to anything I say. So I can assure you that whatever game Draco played tonight hurt him as much as it hurt you.”

Hermione let Theo’s words sink in. Maybe he was right, that Draco really did care for her and tonight was all a fraud, but that didn’t stop the pain in her heart.

“I can’t forgive him yet,” she said quietly and Theo nodded.

“I didn’t expect you to. Honestly, I doubt he expects you to ever forgive him. But I didn’t want you to end everything just because Draco slipped into being a jealous twat.”

“Thanks Theo,” she said with a small smile.

“Have I ever told you that you’re a really great friend?

“You have, but maybe this event will remind you to say it more often.”

She shoved at his shoulder and he grinned. Then he stood up, brushing himself off before offering a hand down to her.

“Alright, up you go, that’s enough wallowing in self-pity for one night. You, my little lioness, are going to pick yourself up, hold your head high, and walk right past Weasley in your common room as if he means less to you then the sludge on the bottom of a cauldron.”

“Oh my, I forgot all about him.” She rubbed at her eyes and then bit back a smirk as she recounted their fight to Theo.

“He told me that I was fratnerizing with the enemy, that my date with Krum was traitorous.”

Theo laughed, a full deep laugh, and then said with a wink, “Funny, I always knew his older brothers had a knack for pranks, but I never took Weasley to be a comedian.”

And with Theo’s last joke still warming her heart, Hermione walked alone back to Gryffindor Tower.

 

Chapter 9

Draco wretched and vomit spilled into the metal waste bin at the edge of his bed. He wiped at his mouth and cleared the mess with a wave of his wand. He’d lost track of the number of times he’d vomited in the last 12 hours, but it didn’t really matter. No amount of sickness would ever truly purge him of his mistakes.

“Draco sodding Malfoy if you don’t open your bed curtains in the next 10 seconds I am setting them on fire.”

Theo’s voice was loud enough that it cut through the silencing charm, and with a defeated sigh Draco muttered

“Finite Incantum.”

He waited less than a minute before a head of wavy brown hair belonging to his best friend came barreling down on top of him.

“Urghhh!” Draco muttered as Theo grabbed both his shoulders and shook.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing!”

He yelled at him.

Draco blinked, entirely unphased, and then said in a low drawl.

“What does it look like I’m doing, Nott?”

“Oh don’t you answer my question with a question, you tosser. Slytherin mind games don’t work on a fellow Slytherin!”

Draco was still formulating another biting report when Theo interjected.

“If you’re trying to start a fight with me right now, go ahead and try, but I know the only person you’re really mad at is yourself.”

His words cracked through Draco’s feigned indifference and he flopped back onto his bed.

“You’re right,” he croaked, his voice now thick with unshed tears.

“I fucked up, Theo.”

“Yeah I know you did, mate, but it’s nothing that can’t be fixed.”

Draco looked at him like a petulant child.

“How do you know?”

“Because, I already spoke with our Gryffindor princess to test the waters, so to speak, and I am quite confident it will all turn out alright.”

“You talked to her?” He gaped at Theo’s smug grin.

“Of course I did. You think I wasn’t going to notice you missing in action after the golden girl made her exit with a certain professional quidditch player?”

Draco cursed under his breath.

“You don’t have to worry about Krum, by the way, nothing more happened between them aside from what you saw at the ball. For the second time in your life you should be thankful for Weasley’s big mouth.”

“What did he do this time?” He all but growled and Theo looked at him indignantly.

“Him and Hermione got in a row and he said some things, no worse than what you did,” Theo bit back and Draco flinched.

“She told you?”

“Yes, she did, and you’re lucky she didn’t hex you into a coma.”

“I would’ve deserved it,” he muttered.

“Yeah, you would have.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be cheering me up?”

At this, Theo scoffed.

“I may be Hermione’s shoulder to cry on but I am certainly not going to be yours.”

He saw Draco’s body tense and he rolled his eyes.

“You better tame that jealous dragon inside of you before it gets you in even more trouble than it already has.”

Draco buried his head into his hands and groaned.

“Did I mention that I seriously fucked up?”

“Yeah, a time or two, but that’s not really the point of our little chat this morning now is it?”

Draco raised his gaze and assessed him warily.

“What are you getting at, Nott?”

“What I’m getting at, is that it’s time to put your big boy pants on and apologize to her properly. And while you’re at it, ask her to be your girlfriend before the both of you drive me mad.”

“Shes not going to forgive me.”

“Maybe not today,” he agreed and Draco’s body deflated. “Maybe not today, but she will eventually. She’ll probably accept even faster if you do a good job of it from the start. So on with it then, get up and get moving.”

Theo pulled Draco to a standing position and then scrunched his face in disgust.

“And by get moving, I mean take a shower. You reek.”

“Thanks a lot, mate.” Draco said sarcastically. He pushed past him but turned around after a few strides.

“Hey, Theo?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks, for everything. I know I’m a right prat sometimes but just, thanks.”

Theo rolled his eyes and then nodded.

“You’re a brooding tosser, but I wouldn’t have you any other way. Now go,” he made a shooing motion with his hands. “I’ve grown rather attached to Granger and I’m not about to let you bugger it all up. Showers. Now.”

Draco nodded and then slipped out the door.

When he was alone at last, Theo fell face first onto his bed and groaned. These two were going to be the death of him he just knew it. And with all of his good deeds done for the day he decided that a mid morning nap was in order.

Chapter 10

Two days had passed without Hermione, and Draco thought he was going to lose his mind. He’d caught glimpses of her in the Great Hall, but she never so much as looked in the direction of the Slytherin table. He watched her anyway. It appeared as though she was on speaking terms with the two dolts she called friends, but it was limited. From his point of view she seemed to be spending most of her time with the Weasley girl, and another blonde Ravenclaw who always appeared to have a starstruck look in her eye. He would have to remember to ask Theo who exactly that was. Draco paced back and forth in the library. He was only one turn away from the ancient runes alcove, but he couldn’t get his feet to take him any further. He wasn’t even sure if Hermione was back there, considering they had nothing to study for on break, but the fear of seeing her and being sent away was too much for him to handle. By this point, he knew the exact number of steps it took him to get from one end of the aisle to the other, sixteen.

Sixteen, sixteen, sixteen. He matched his foot steps to the beat of his heart.

“You’re going to wear a hole through the carpet.”

Draco’s foot stopped mid step and he whipped his head towards the sound. Hermione stood behind him, leaned against a book shelf, her bag hanging off of one shoulder. It looked like she had been on her way to the alcove, but had stopped to watch the scene unfold instead.

“How—how long have you been watching me?” He asked weakly.

“Long enough,” she answered, crossing her arms across her chest.

“What is it exactly that you’re doing, Draco?”

“Trying to work up the courage to face you.” Her face remained stoic through his admission but he saw an unnamed emotion flicker in her eyes.

“Funny, you didn’t seem to have a problem saying your opinions of me a few nights ago.”

Her words stung his face like a slap.

“Hermione,” he whispered pleadingly.

“I am so sorry. What I said to you that night was horrible and a lie. You were beautiful, you’re always beautiful, and I—“ he cut himself off before he could ramble further and took a deep breath before meeting her gaze.

“I don’t deserve your forgiveness, for the ball, for any of the past four years, and for what I’m sure I’ll ultimately mess up in the future, but I’m asking for it anyway. Being your friend these past few months has been the best part of my life. I don’t know what I have to do to earn your trust again, but I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

Hermione remained silent, evaluating the nervous boy before her. She tilted her head in the direction of the alcove and walked forward, he followed her with leaden steps.

“Please, say something,” he urged.

“Draco,” she said quietly, “why did you do it?”

His eyes widened at her question. Of all the opportunities he’d had to admit his feelings, the current moment seemed the least good of any, but he knew that she deserved an answer. He decided to start from the beginning.

“On our first ride on the Hogwarts Express, you were wearing a purple jumper.”

Her mouth opened but he spoke over any response she may have had.

“It was before we changed into our school robes, we’d barely been on the train for an hour, and I saw you walking through the aisles trying to help Longbottom find his toad.”

She shut her mouth and nodded, her eyes tracking his every word.

“I remember what you were wearing, because it was the first time I saw you, and that moment changed everything for me.”

Draco swiped a hand through his hair and had to force himself not to start pacing again.

“Second year, when you were petrified, you were wearing your school robes, but you had a golden clip in your hair. It was a butterfly. I know that, because every day before classes I would sneak away to the hospital wing and sit with you. I would talk to you as if you could hear me, it was a bit ridiculous looking back on it, but I did it because I was scared that if you never woke up then I would never have the chance to be your friend.”

Hermione’s eyes became glassy but she remained silent.

“Third year, in defense against the darks arts, I stood in the back of the line when we had to face the boggart, because I was afraid that it was somehow going to reveal that my biggest fear was you seeing me as a monster.”

“Draco—“ He held up a hand.

“Please, I just need to get this out.”

He took another breath.

“On Christmas, when I saw you come down those stairs, I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. And I wanted to tell you, so desperately. Just like I wanted to tell you when we danced in the library, or every day we do homework together. I look at you, and everything else just kind of fades away.”

Draco looked at the floor and continued, his voice taking on a quieter tone.

“You asked me why I did it, and I wish I had a better answer, but I don’t. In the words of Theo, I’m a jealous tosser who acted with my heart instead of my head. Bloody Gryffindor antics and all that must’ve rubbed off on me.” He muttered the last part and Hermione snorted. He turned again to look at her, his eyes shining.

“Sorry doesn’t even begin to cover my faults, and what I just told you doesn’t begin to cover how deeply I feel, but I guess it’s where I have to start.”

The unlikely pair watched each other warily. It was silent for a moment, and then Hermione heard the unmistakable voices of Harry and Ron from several aisles away.

“I swear she said she was coming to the library,” Ron spoke far too loudly.

“Keep it down, Ron, the last thing I want is to deal with Madam Pince,” was Harry’s softer reply.

Hermione stepped closer to Draco and dropped her voice to a whisper.

“I have to go out there, I don’t want them to know about our alcove.” He nodded, his heart warming from her use of “our”.

“After dinner, meet me beside the statue of Rowena Ravenclaw. Fourth floor corridor.”

She hesitated for a moment, a look burning in her eyes that Draco couldn’t quite recognize.

“To hell with it,” she murmured, and then she took the last step forward and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was quick, much quicker than Draco would’ve liked it, but she pulled away and grinned at him, a blush covering both of her cheeks.

“I forgive you, by the way.”

And before Draco could utter another word, she spun on her heels and was gone.

He waited a few seconds and then heard her characteristically bossy tone heading towards the library exit.

“Honestly, Ronald, I told you that I would speak to you again when you were ready to stop being such a prat. Marching around the castle on a hunt to find me in no way changes my stance on that.”

Draco smiled. He didn’t know if the smile would ever leave his face again.

Chapter 11

Draco all but floated into the Great Hall for dinner, and Theo had to hide his smirk behind his hand. He knew his best friend, and wherever he’d been off hiding for the past few hours had Granger’s name written all over it.

“How’s it going mate?” He asked, a knowing smile stretched across his face. Draco looked at him for a moment, considering how much information to share.

“She kissed me.”

Theo’s jaw dropped. Luckily, the chatter of their surrounding schoolmates was loud enough to keep their conversation private.

“You lucky bastard.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, as if to challenge Theo’s intent but he waved him off.

“I’m not jealous you blighter. I mean she’s a right catch and all—“ at this Draco nodded firmly, “but I’m not interested. I called you lucky because after what you did I’m surprised she gave you the time of day.”

“You’re right. I ended up sharing a lot with her,” Draco admitted sheepishly. “Just a few examples of my.. behavior over the years.”

“Ah, you mean how you’ve been a love struck puppy and her secret stalker since the moment you laid eyes on her in the train four years ago?”

The noise around them began to die down as food appeared on the tables, so Draco didn’t have the time to respond. Instead he threw daggers through his grey eyes. Theo merely smiled in return.

“In all seriousness, I’m happy for you, Drake,”Theo murmured and Draco shoved at his shoulder in response

 

On the other side of the Great Hall, Hermione smiled down into her mashed potatoes. She had tried to compose herself, but it was no use, she just couldn’t wipe the grin off of her face.

“What do you think ‘Mione?”

Harry’s voice snapped her to attention.

“What?”

He looked at her skeptically.

“Are you confunded or something? You’ve been smiling at your food for five minutes but you haven’t said a word.”

“It looks like she’s lovestruck,” Ginny added in from beside Harry, a look of interest covering her freckled features.

“In love?” Ron scoffed. “Trust me, if it’s not a book, Hermione isn’t interested.”

Ginny reached across the table to flick her brother in the ear, but even Ron’s obnoxious commentary couldn’t dampen Hermione’s spirits.

“Sorry, Harry, I’m just feeling a bit out of sorts this evening,” she admitted. “I think I may head up the dorms and lay down for a bit.”

He watched her with concern.

“Do you want me to walk you up?”

“No, no,” she rushed out. “I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.”

“Let me know if you need anything tonight, alright?” Ginny said, a curious look in her blue eyes. “We’re your friends, we want to help.”

“Absolutely, thanks Gin.”

Hermione stood up to leave, her eyes briefly flashing towards the Slytherin table. She turned and left without another word.

 

Her retreat from the Gryffindor table was not missed by the watchful eyes of a certain pair of Slytherins.

“Hey Draco,” Theo said rather loudly, turning to him.  “You’re going to be late for detention with Professor Sprout.”

Interesting cover, Nott, Draco thought to himself, but he kept his face void of emotion. Any distraction would’ve been welcomed in that moment, because if he had to sit through another dinner conversation about Pansy’s thoughts on who wore what at Yule he was going to go mad.

“Detention? What did you do Drakey?”

Her grating voice was far too close for Draco’s liking, but he held his composure and answered her in a bored drawl.

“Got caught charming the entry way to the greenhouses to only allow pure bloods to enter.”

She cackled with glee and the sound was enough to make his stomach turn.

“You’re so clever, Draco. They should’ve used those same wards on the school in the first place.” Her comment was met with agreeable murmurings from students around them and Draco clenched his fists under the table. He knew that lashing out was a behavior reserved for foolhardy Gryffindors, and he still had years left to play this game. With an almost unnoticeable sigh he released the tension in his fingers and wiggled them.

“Well, I suppose I’ll be off then.” Draco rose from the table and nodded at Theo.

“Will I see you tonight, Draco?” Pansy fluttered her eyelashes at him suggestively and he stilled his expression.

“Probably not, Pansy, maybe another night.”

Her mouth formed into a pout, but only for a moment, because as soon as Draco’s back was turned she focused her attention on Theo.

“Theodore,” she purred, “what are you up to this evening?”

Draco didn’t have to turn around to know his friend was glaring at the back of his head. He bit back a laugh, hiding it as a cough, and kept walking.

 

By the time Draco made it to the fourth floor corridor he was nervous. Kissing him in the library very well could’ve been a reaction to a rash emotion, and the way Hermione felt about him now could be completely different.

He walked to the fourth floor corridor, his nerves growing with every step. He rounded the final corner, his heart in his throat, when he saw her leaned up against the statue.

“Draco,” she smiled widely at him. That smile did something funny to the wizard. It made the nerves he had felt only seconds before melt and swirl into something new. With a courage he didn’t even know he possessed, he bridged the space between them in two long strides and crashed his lips to hers.

This kiss was different than the one before, wilder, longer. Draco didn’t have much experience with kissing, but he knew that what he was feeling in that moment was something people spent their entire lives chasing.

When they finally broke apart, he cradled her face between his hands.

“Hi,” he whispered.

“Hi,” she giggled back.

He took a step back and slipped his hands into his pockets.

“So, Granger, is there a particular reason you wanted to meet at this statue, or do you just have a thing for snogging in the shadow of famous people.”

She pushed at his chest playfully.

“Hush, you. I just thought we could go on a walk.”

“A walk?” He questioned, “aren’t you worried about seeing people?”

She gave him a smug grin.

“I may have inspired a particular pair of twins to cause a bit of a ruckus behind you, so I don’t think there will be anyone coming down the fourth corridor tonight.”

He arched a brow.

“A ruckus, you say?”

She smiled in delight.

“Oh yes, I told them I heard a rumor that Flitwick was planning a surprise exam tomorrow.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, I may have mentioned that the exam had a chance of being postponed if there wasn’t a place to take it.”

Dawning swept across Draco’s face as she spoke.

“Stink bombs, fireworks, and walking suits of armor with slingshots. Peeves is probably thrilled. Professor Flitwick, on the other hand, is down an entry way to a classroom.”

“I’m having a harder and harder time believing that you don’t belong in Slytherin.”

She laughed.

“Come on then.”

Their hands swung between them as they walked through the deserted corridor. She couldn’t help but think of how perfectly her hand fit into his, how right it all felt. But what exactly was going on between them? She kissed him. Then he kissed her. And where did that leave them?

“So,” Hermione started.

“So,” he replied with a grin.

“Draco, what are we doing?”

“We’re walking while chaos ensues behind us.”

His cheeky response wasn’t quite what she was looking for, so she tried again.

“I mean, you and I. Are we—I mean, do you—I just—“

Draco stopped their stroll and tugged her still. He watched her, amusement clearly evident in his eyes.

“Are you nervous about something, Granger?”

“Oh, we’re back to surnames now?” She muttered and his grin only grew wider.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

“Yeah and you’re mean when you’re teasing….Malfoy,” she added as an afterthought.

He took a step closer, they were standing toe to toe.

“What is it exactly that you’re nervous about?” His breath caressed her ear, making her shiver.

“If it’s my feelings towards you, I certainly thought that I’d made them quite clear.” Hermione’s skin prickled in anticipation as he leaned in closer.

“And if it’s the status of our…relationship…I’d be more than happy to elaborate.”

The girl tried to will even a semblance of composure to her face, but she felt like a string unraveling from a skein of yarn. How had the room gotten so hot? And when had her skin started to flush so bright?

“Pray tell,” she managed to gasp out as Draco’s lips brushed against her earlobe. He pulled back, just enough to stare at her with an intensity so deep his pupils drowned his irises black.

“Hermione,” he spoke lowly, almost seductively, “will you be my girlfriend? Will you let me call you mine?”

She didn’t want to look away, but if she held eye contact for much longer, she might combust entirely.

“Yes,” she whispered. His returning smile knocked the breath from her lungs. It was the kind of smile that he only saved for her, and she found herself hoping that it would always stay that way.

“Now, that walk you mentioned?”

He held out his arm and she wrapped hers around it. Behind them in the corridor, they heard the recognizable pop and sizzle of fireworks and Weasley antics, and it brought even brighter smiles to their already flushed faces.

Chapter 12

The liquid in Hermione’s cauldron turned a deep plum color and she sighed in satisfaction. Her sleeping draught was coming along beautifully, all that was left was a three minute simmer. She waved her wand and an hourglass appeared, exactly three minutes worth of sand funneling down.

“Uh, Hermione, can you give me a hand with this?” Harry asked sheepishly from the table beside her. One look at the bubbling green mass in his cauldron had her shaking her head.

“Harry, the instructions said to grind the coromak root, not throw it in whole.”

“Grind it? Shoot, I must have missed that.”

“Missed it, or blatantly ignored it, Potter,” the deep voice of Professor Snape drawled from behind him.

Harry’s face twisted in anger, but Hermione shot him a look before he could respond.

Hermione’s potion timer dinged, and she began ladling the liquid into glass vials.

Snape walked over to inspect her work, still directing his lecture to Harry.

“Although your friend here may be an insipid know-it-all, she at least knows how to brew a sufficient potion.”

Snape nodded at her, and Hermione tried very hard to keep her expressions blank. As far as Snape went, that comment was the most praise she was likely to ever receive.

“Draco.” Snape called the young man over from the Slytherin tables and he walked forward, confusion dancing across his features.

“Yes sir?”

“I need you to assist Miss Granger in bottling the remainder of her potion and then the two of you will take the vials up to Madam Pomfrey in the infirmary.”

“Why does Malfoy have to do it? I’ll help her.”

Ron yelled from two tables over. Snape glared at the boy.

“I have chosen Draco because he is one of the few students in the classroom that I can trust to not spill or damage the potion in any way. Considering the way you brew, Weasley, it would be a risk to Madam Pomfrey’s patients to have you within 10 meters of it.”

Draco snickered but quickly quieted when Hermione raised her eyebrow at him. In the silence she swore she heard Theo laughing from across the room.

“Sir, I’ll help Draco,” Pansy spoke up from her seat in a sickeningly sweet tone. “We wouldn’t want Granger getting him dirty.”

“The only dirty thing in this lab is your mouth, Parkinson,” Ron shot back.

“Five points from Slytherin and five points from Gryffindor for insinuating language,” Snape hissed. “Now everyone is to pack up their supplies and leave my lab before I decide this entire class is going to detention.”

Students on both sides grumbled but began to pack up their things.

“Do you want us to wait for you, ‘Mione?” Harry asked quietly but she shook her head.

“Thanks, Harry, but I’ll be fine. I’ll catch up with you later for dinner?”

He looked over at Draco warily but then nodded, turning to meet Ron at the door of the classroom. When Ron went to say something else, Harry pushed him through the doorway, afraid that whatever was coming out of his mouth would lose them the house cup.

Snape looked at the pair of students in front of him.

“Now, you two won’t have any problems doing this together I presume?”

“No sir,” Hermione answered. She was trying but failing to mask the nervous excitement swirling in her stomach.

Draco looked around, ensuring that all the other students had left. When he confirmed it was just the three of them, he turned back and grinned at his professor.

“That was quite a performance, Severus, well done.”

Hermione’s eyes widened, afraid of how their characteristically grumpy professor would respond, but instead of the yelling she expected he merely rolled his eyes.

“Draco, if you don’t provide an explanation to my most inquisitive student, I fear she’s going to faint, and I already sent all of the pepper up potion to the infirmary last week.”

What did Snape mean? What did he know? Had she done something that compromised their secret?

Hermione turned to Draco, fear on her face and Draco laid a soothing hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, I told him.”

She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Why?”

“Hermione, I’d like you to meet Uncle Severus, my godfather.”

Her jaw hinged open.

“Godfather?”

Draco nodded.

“We don’t tell many others. I don’t want people to say it’s favoritism in class when really it’s just that I’m an incredible potioneer.”

She swatted at his shoulder and he winced.

“Ow!”

“You deserve it you right prat!”

The girl then turned to Snape, who was fighting back a smile at the scene before him.

“Professor, how do you put up with him?”

“I suppose the same way you do,” he supplied. “He just grows on you.”

Hermione laughed, shocked that Professor Snape was even capable of making a joke.

“So, it appears there is more to you than meets the eye, Professor.”

Snape nodded.

“We will tell you more as soon as it’s safe to do so, but for now I figured that the two of you may like an opportunity to be together outside of a certain library alcove.”

Hermione flushed red and Draco laughed at her.

“Are we really that bad at being secretive?”

“No, Draco is terribly bad at keeping his mouth shut about you.”

At this, Hermione laughed, and it was Draco’s turn to blush.

“Well thanks, Uncle Sev, but I think we’ve got it from here.”

Snape smirked at the boy before him.

“I’m sure you do Draco. I’ll leave you to it.” He turned to Hermione.

“Keep him in line, will you? You’re used to that by now with your rag-tag group of Gryffindors.”

“Yes, professor.”

“Call me Severus outside of class,” he corrected. “If my suspicions are right, I believe we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.” With a final nod he exited the room, leaving the teens.

Draco smiled at her.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me he was your godfather!” She hissed and his smile faltered, but only a bit.

“It’s never come up!”

 “Do you have any other secrets you’d like to tell me about?” Her lip jutted into a pout and Draco couldn’t help but think of how adorable she looked. He didn’t dare mention it.

“None that I can think of at the moment, but I’m sure they’ll come up. It doesn’t matter, I plan on telling you all of my secrets anyway.”

Hermione looked at him, searching for any trace of deception on his face, but there was none. His admission made her heart warm.

“You trust me,” she said quietly, and he nodded.

“Of course I do, you’re my girlfriend after all. Now let’s get this potion bottled up before your friends,” he only slightly sneered at the word, “think I’ve kidnapped you.”

“They’re not as bad as you make them out to be,” she scolded.

“I told you I’d behave as best as I can, but Weasley is a git, and you won’t get me to say otherwise.”

“Okay, Ronald does have his faults, but I think you and Harry would get along great if you gave it a chance.”

Draco looked at her incredulously.

“The day you get Harry Potter and I to agree to a friendship is the day I do one of those muggle flipping tricks you talk about.”

“Do you mean a cartwheel?” She giggled.

“Yes, that. If Potter and I become friends, I will willingly do a cartwheel.”

“You can’t just do a cartwheel, you have to learn it.”

“Yes, well I won’t put too much thought into that considering it will never happen.”

The two continued their banter through the bottling of several rounds of potion and all the way through the now empty corridors on their way to the hospital wing. They were having so much fun that by the time they made it to the entry doors of the Great Hall, neither wanted to make the first move in.

“You can go in first,” Draco offered, “I’ll follow in a few minutes.”

Hermione sighed and he looked at her with concern.

“I want to be able to go in together,” she said at last. The breath caught in Draco’s throat.

“Me too,” his voice sounded ragged, “but you know we can’t.”

Hearing the torture in his tone, Hermione stilled her composure and nodded.

“You’re right, I’m just being silly.” She added after a beat, “I had a lot of fun with you this afternoon.”

Draco gave her a half smile, hiding his disappointment. He tucked one of her curls behind her ear, his fingers lingering near her face.

“Me too, Granger. Now get in there before we miss all the food.” She stepped forward with her shoulders high and didn’t look back.

When she arrived to her table she was welcomed by Harry and Neville.

“Hermione! Finally! You almost missed dinner.” Harry gave her a squeeze on the shoulder and began loading her plate up with food before it disappeared.

“Harry, I can serve myself,” she argued but he shook his head.

“No way. I’m sure your afternoon was exhausting putting up with that prat.”

Hermione’s chest suddenly felt hot with annoyance, but she tried to contain it as best as she could.

“It really wasn’t all that bad.” She wanted to defend Draco more, but figured that too much would give away her cover.

He gave her a strange look and then said rather carefully.

“Alright, whatever you say.”

Not wanting the conversation to go further, she turned to Neville.

“Neville, how did the harvesting of the mandrakes go?”

“Oh!” Neville’s eyes gleamed with excitement, and he went into a full depth explanation of the ear protection he had switched to using to prevent fainting. Harry turned back towards Seamus in favor of a conversation about quidditch and the Gryffindor table remained none the wiser that their golden girl wished she was seated at the emerald green table across the hall.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Draco, what’s the third way to kill a vampire?”

“Hmmm?”

Draco looked up absently from twirling his fingers around Hermione’s curls, a goofy smile plastered on his face.

“Gods, you two are insufferable,” Theo groaned from across the table.

“You’re two of the smartest people I know, but you’re so busy groping each other that you’re proving to be useless study partners.”

“It’s decapitation, Theo,” Hermione spoke, not bothering to look up from the text she was reading.

“And I am not useless.”

“Sorry, Granger, I stand corrected. It appears Draco here is the only one who is completely incapacitated by his love for you.”

“Shut up Theo.” Draco tried to line his words with venom, but he found himself so happy that it was immensely difficult to do so.

“Even when you’re trying to be mean you sound nice. It’s like I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

“Boys,” Hermione’s voice silenced their banter.

“Less arguing, more studying please,” she spoke sternly but a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.

“Please. You’re about as good at pretending to be mad as Draco is,” Theo continued.

“I change my mind about this arrangement. Hermione, are you sure you don’t want to date Krum?”

“No thanks,” she replied quickly before Draco could growl out a defense. She smiled softly at him. “I much prefer Draco.”

“That’s it, I’m out of here,” Theo gathered up his supplies and stared at the two of them.

“Honestly, I don’t know why I ever thought to put you two together.”

“Oh don’t give yourself so much credit, Nott,” Draco said drily and Theo huffed indignantly.

“I absolutely will give myself credit, thank you very much. Now if you two lovebirds would excuse me, I’m going to go sit at my own table before I’m suffocated by your hormones entirely.”

He turned to leave the alcove without another word. Hermione waited until he was around the corner before saying quietly,

“Is he always this dramatic?”

“Yes,” Draco said with a sigh. “Although he does argue that it’s charisma.”

The pair looked at one another for a moment before breaking into a fit of laughter. Eventually, when they’d calmed down, Draco reached out his hand to intertwine their fingers.

“We aren’t being unbearable, right?”

“Not at all,” she said and then faltered, “well, maybe we are a little bit. But we only get to spend time together in the library, so it makes sense. Theo’s seeing a skewed sample, so to speak.”

Draco grinned.

“Skewed sample? I love it when you get all swotty on me.”

She hit his shoulder.

“Oh shut it and do your homework.”

“Homework? Are you sure that’s what you want to be doing?”

Draco slid the book she was reading out from under her nose, placing it on a stack of her other texts.

“We’re all alone in here, and like you said we barely get any time to be together.”

“What are you playing at, Draco?” She asked with a flirty smile and he smirked, leaning closer until their lips almost touched.

“What I’m getting at is that you told me to shut up, how about you make me.”

Hermione leaned forward and pressed her lips to his, promptly ending their conversation.

Chapter 13

Valentine’s Day was only two weeks away, and the halls of Hogwarts were filled with pink paper hearts charmed to rain down on unsuspecting students. Hermione had never taken much stake in the holiday, but her outlook on it had vastly improved in the past several months, due all in part to the molten grey eyes that were currently looking back into hers.

“What are you thinking about?” He murmured to her.

“Valentine’s Day,” she responded instantly, and a blush bloomed on her cheeks.

He arched a brow in interest.

“What about Valentine’s Day?”

“Oh, you know,” she fumbled her way through an explanation. “Just how it exists.”

Half his mouth raised in his signature smirk. She used to hate that smirk. She wished she could wipe it off his mouth entirely.

But now, she couldn’t imagine hating it. Really, she couldn’t imagine hating anything about him.

“Your brilliant mind, which is constantly thinking of at least ten things at once, is focused solely on pondering the existence of a holiday? How very unlike you, Granger.”

His gentle teasing gave her a nervous tingle in her stomach. Draco was stupidly good at flirting, and it wasn’t fair. She blamed it on his years of pureblood etiquette classes. Hell, for all she knew maybe there was an entire class on the subject. She’d have to make a note to read up more on that.

“I’m thinking about Valentine’s Day dates specifically,” she clarified. The smirk dropped off of Draco’s face.

“Oh, that.”

“Yes, that.”

She tilted her head at the boy in front of her.

“Draco, what’s wrong?”

He shifted uncomfortably in his chair, now unwilling to meet her stare.

“I just…I wish I could take you on a real date.”

His eyes flashed to hers.

“I want to walk with you in Hogsmeade, buy you gifts, let everyone know that you’re mine.”

She smiled at him wistfully.

“That does sound nice.”

“Most of the pureblood rules are shite, but showering your witch with affection? I don’t see the harm in it.”

Hermione reached her hand over to his and intertwined their fingers.

“You do shower me with affection Draco. Just because the world doesn’t see it doesn’t mean it’s not happening.”

He looked at her, conflict warring in his grey eyes.

“I know, you’re right, and I’m grateful for every moment spent with you…I just can’t help but wish.”

Hermione’s brain started turning. Maybe she could give him just that. Draco saw her begin to chew on her bottom lip, a sure sign that she was thinking deeply, and he chuckled lowly.

“Uh oh, I know that face.”

Hermione didn’t answer, too busy problem solving in the silence of her mind. Draco turned his eyes back to his book and let her think in peace. He knew that whatever she was planning was going to be great; everything about her was.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Murmuro Distantia” Hermione whispered the spell almost silently, and bit back a grin when the tip of her wand glowed.

“Theo, stay late after class.”

She pointed her wand at Theo, directing the whisper directly to his ear. His slouched posture immediately erected, and his head whipped towards the direction of where she was seated across the room.

“How?” He mouthed. She used the spell again.

“A new spell I learned. I’ll teach it to you later. Meet me after class.” Again, her wand angled towards him beneath the desk. He nodded ever so slightly in response.

Beside her, Neville, oblivious as always, was struggling to stir the sludgy concoction in his cauldron.

“Neville, add an extra four drops of myrtlesnap essence, stir counterclockwise, and remove from heat,” she instructed below her breath.

“Uh, okay, yeah,” he stammered. He had barely saved the potion before Snape’s billowing black robes came to stand before him.

“Somehow, you managed the barest level of competence today, Longbottom,” the professor sneered and then raised his gaze to Hermione.

“Miss Granger, please remember to let your fellow students pass or fail on their own.”

She did not respond, looking down at her cauldron in embarrassment. He walked away, but several minutes later she heard his distinct elocution directly in her ear.

“Nice save on that potion, five points to Gryffindor. Also, next time you use a whisper charm in my class, double check that no one else is watching you. Constant vigilance, Miss Granger.”

Her eyes immediately met his and she couldn’t help the smile that stretched across her face. Professor Snape looked away, schooling his features so that she did not see just how impressed he truly was. A whispering charm was advanced level magic, certainly not the work of any other fourth year, and saving Longbottom’s potion involved a complex understanding of potion theory. She certainly was the brightest witch of her age, although he wouldn’t be caught dead letting anyone else know his thoughts on the matter.

The rest of the class period went on without any distractions, and soon the students were packing their supplies.

“Harry, I have to ask Professor Snape a question, don’t wait up,” she called to her friends.

“Swot,” he joked good-naturedly before leaving with the fellow Gryffindors.

Across the room, Theo made a similar excuse to Draco who left in a pack of snakes.

At last, the only people in the classroom were Theo, Hermione, and their Professor.

“Do I even want to know what you two are up to?” Snape asked drily.

“No, probably not,” Hermione’s blunt honesty brought the faintest of smiles to his face.

“Right, well then I suppose I’ll be off to discuss something with Professor Sprout. I will be back in exactly twenty minutes, in which I expect to see no trace of you here whatsoever. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” Hermione chimed. With Snape gone, she turned to her friend. He lounged in one of the desks, his feet kicked up on the table.

“Granger, darling, what nefarious plans have you summoned me for?” His grin was infectious, and Hermione laughed through her response.

“Theo, I am not nefarious.”

“Yeah, and I’m not a Slytherin,” he retorted. “Seriously, what is it you need? Your friends may live blissfully unaware, but if I’m not in the common room in the next ten minutes Draco will know something is amiss.”

“Blaise Zabini,” Hermione spoke. “How do I find him?”

Theo’s eyebrows raised in alarm.

“Granger…what exactly are you doing?”

“It’s something for Valentine’s Day. I need ingredients, and I don’t want to be caught with them. Under normal circumstances I’d use the invisibility cloak, but considering Harry can’t know about this I need a different strategy.”

“The what?” Theo gaped. “I’m sorry, can we backtrack to invisibility cloak?”

“It’s Harry’s. Yes, it’s real, no, no one knows about it, and no, I can’t steal it for you to try on.” Theo, seeming satisfied with the brief explanation continued.

“Granger, playing Zabini’s games is dangerous.”

“You think I can’t handle it?”

He rolled his eyes.

“Don’t get sassy with me. I know full well that there’s a lioness living in that pint sized body of yours. All I’m saying, is that he is not some bumbling helpful Hufflepuff, or a thoughtful Ravenclaw, or a bold and brash Gryffindor. He is a Slytherin, through and through. Cunning, ambitious, determined. He plays every advantage and he never plays fair.”

“Draco didn’t have any problems with him,” she argued.

“Draco has spent his entire life around people like him. Playing those games is as engrained in his nature as breathing. But you? You’re all courage and headfirst charges. It’s a completely different playing field.”

“Alright, then play the game with me.”

His eyebrows threaded in confusion.

“Come with me, make the deal on my behalf. If Draco knows how to play then obviously so do you.”

“Draco won’t like this,” Theo cautioned but Hermione waved off his worries as if she was batting away a fly.

“Draco won’t know about this. Come on Theo, please?” Her lip jutted out into a pout and he groaned in exasperation.

“Fine, I will help you with this.” Hermione clapped her hands. “But only on one condition.”

“Okay, what?”

“You meet Draco’s parents when they come for the next Triwizard Task. Hermione’s hands stilled.

“But—“

“No buts,” Theo interjected. “It’s an all or nothing deal. Draco wants to ask you but he’s too nervous, and his parents are dying to meet you.”

“I’ve already met Lucius,” she whispered but Theo shook his head.

“No, you met the threatening mask of Mr. Malfoy. You haven’t met Lucius. Come on, Hermione, give it a chance. Just like you did for me and Drake.”

Hermione only took a second to consider before she nodded her head.

“Okay, yes. You help me get my potion ingredients; I’ll meet the Malfoys.”

Theo grinned.

“Excellent. Wait, what potion are you making?”

Hermione smirked, and Theo swore it was like she stole the expression right off his best mate’s face.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out, Theodore.”

He stifled back another groan and then conceded.

“Alright, here’s the plan.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Three nights later, Theo and Hermione met on the quidditch pitch under the cover of darkness. Hermione had told Draco she was staying in with Harry and Ron, whereas Theo said he was taking Astoria Greengrass on a date to appease her father’s wishes. Although Draco had seemed rather skeptical, he accepted the lie. Slytherins knew to occasionally allow people their secrets, even their best friends.

“Why did we meet on the quidditch pitch, again?” Hermione asked, she was jogging trying to keep up with Theo’s lanky frame as he slipped in and out of the shadows on the way back to the castle.

“I told Draco I was walking Astoria around the Black Lake, I had to go outside to make it believable.”

“And what are you going to do if Astoria walks back into the common room?”

“She won’t. She’s in detention with Snape. I saw him assign it to her for tripping another third year, a Hufflepuff no less.”

“How rude!”

“Yeah. Needless to say, I wouldn’t have been taking her on a date.”

The pair continued to duck and dodge around bushes and trees, ensuring that neither staff nor student was aware of their location. When they entered back through the doors closest to the Great Hall, Hermione turned to head towards the dungeons. Theo grabbed her hand and yanked her in the opposite direction.

“What are you doing? His office is downstairs.”

“No, he moves it every time. More difficult to get caught that way. He’s in the Astronomy Tower.”

Hermione obliged and followed Theo through the now empty halls of the castle. It wasn’t yet curfew, but most students were back in their common rooms.

“Okay, repeat my plan back to me, Granger.”

“That seems unnecessary,” she countered but the look he gave her made her retract her statement.

“I will disillusion myself, keep my hood up, and stand behind you at all times. You will do all the speaking, we leave.”

“Yes, in and out,” he affirmed. “The last thing you want to do is get caught in a battle of wits or pride against Blaise Zabini.”

“What secret are you going to tell him?”

The question had haunted Hermione since Theo had agreed to the excursion. He gave her a grim smile, very unlike the expressions she was so used to seeing on him.

“Don’t worry about it, Granger, it won’t involve you.”

The pair arrived at an unassuming office in the Astronomy Tower, and similar to her last experience, Theo knocked four times.

“Enter.”

Although she knew what to expect, Hermione still felt a rush of nerves flow through her as they stepped through the entry way.

“Theodore,” Blaise purred.

“Zabini, always a pleasure.” Theo’s voice had dropped an octave, and when Hermione looked at the back of him standing before her he was stretched up to his full height.

“Who’s your friend?” Blaise asked. The candles surrounding his desk flickered against his dark brown pupils, making it almost look like he had eyes of flame.

“Oh, just another one of my adoring fans,” Theo said with a mischievous grin. “They’re all the same, after all.”

The Theo that Hermione watched was not the Theo she had come to know and care for. Like Draco, he too had a mask that he wore, she had just never seen it until that night.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Nott?”

Blaise ran a single finger down the oak paneling of the table he sat at. Hermione shivered, as if the ghost of that finger had just traced down the nape of her neck.

“I need potion ingredients.”

“Hmm, Snape’s class essentials not doing it for you?”

“These ingredients are a bit less common,” Theo drawled.

“And why do you need them?” Blaise leaned forward in interest.

“Ah ah ah Zabini, there are no free secrets.”Hermione remained still and tried to regulate her breathing as the pair stood off at one another.

“Fine,” Blaise finally responded. “One secret, and I will have a house elf do a bit of errand running for you.”

Theo held out his wand.

“Make the deal.”

“A deal has been made.”

Hermione looked away from the sparkling red light, guilt nagging in her stomach. She shouldn’t have subjected Theo to this. He was right, the longer she spent around Blaise the more uncomfortable she became.

“What’s your secret, Theodore Nott.”

Theo stared at Blaise and without flinching responded.

“The person I love most barely knows I exist.”

Blaise raised an ebony hand to stroke his chin.

“Hmmm. Specific enough to count, but vague enough to be dangerous.” He smiled cruelly.

“My favorite kinds of secrets are the ones that involve the heart.”

Theo, seemingly unfazed by the monologue, flicked his wand.

“Pay the debt.”

“Deliver a list of your requested ingredients to my dorm room tonight, and they will arrive by nightfall tomorrow.”

Theo nodded.

“A debt has been paid.”

The light between the wands fizzled out. Theo turned to leave, Hermione in tow. They were almost to the door when Blaise spoke again.

“Oh Theo? I’ve seen you watching a certain Gryffindor in class. I’d hope you know better than to fall in love with someone who would sully your line. We all know how your father can be.”

Hermione’s shoulders tensed immediately, but she squeezed her hand around her wand and forced herself to remain calm.

Theo stared back at Blaise with a smirk.

“Do you take me for an idiot, Zabini? I know my worth is far above a house filled with blood traitors and mudbloods.”

They left the room without another word.

Theo walked at a regular pace in complete silence down the tower, but the second they reached the safety of an abandoned hallway he pulled a now fully visual Hermione into a hug.

“Granger,” he rasped, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it. You know I didn’t mean it.”

Hermione held the distraught wizard in her arms and tried to soothe him.

“Theo, it’s okay,” she cooed. “I know that wasn’t you. It was a mask. I’m the one who asked you to do it for Merlin’s sake. I know it’s not your fault.”

“Draco would kill me if he heard what I said. Gods, I would want to kill me too.”

It took a few more minutes of convincing, but eventually Theo was able to gain composure. He leaned back into the wall to view Hermione in full.

“I hated every second of that,” he murmured.

“I know, I’m sorry I made you go in there. You were right, he’s too dangerous.”

“So, you’re done playing with Zabini?” He asked tentatively and Hermione nodded.

“Yeah, I’m done.”

“Good.”

The two sat in silence for a bit before Hermione asked the question that was circling her brain.

“Theo, what did Zabini mean about your dad?”

Theo, his gaze remaining on the smooth stone floor, began to speak.

“My father…he isn’t a good person, Hermione.”

The witch reached out a hand to hold his. Only a friendly gesture, but Theo, who had been so robbed of physical touch his entire life, felt completely warmed by it.

“I’ve never been a good enough heir in his opinion. I was too much a child, and not enough an adult.”

“You were a child,” she defended, but Theo just shrugged.

“There was not time nor place for children in the mighty house of Nott.”

He paused for a moment, seemingly to hold back tears but pushed on.

“My mother, she tried to protect me, but her own love for me got in the way of her ability to save herself. One day, they got in a fight, and he hexed her down the stairs.”

A small gasp left Hermione’s lips.

“By the time the house elves were allowed to take her for treatment, her injuries were extensive. They could heal her physically but mentally she never came back. Sometimes, I think she chose to not come back. Why would she want to regain consciousness just to return to that godforsaken manor. She’s still alive. Well cared for at St. Mungo’s but I can barely get myself to go. I look into her eyes, that look just like mine, and I see absolutely no recollection. What kind of mother chooses to forget her own son? What kind of son does that make me?”

“Theo,” Hermione breathed out, but he ignored her. She realized then what Theo’s secret truly meant to him.

“After mother was gone, my father began to take his anger out on me. He hid it for a while, but eventually the Malfoy’s caught on. I started spending less and less time at home, under the guise that I was being stewarded by Lucius. Eventually, my father started drinking, and now, well, he barely remembers me too.”

Theo turned to look at Hermione, his eyes glistened with tears unwilling to fall. She leaned into his side and pressed her hand to his heart, a fruitless effort to transfer some of his pain to her.

“I’m so sorry, Theo,” she whispered.

He sniffled and then said.

“It’s not your fault, Granger. Being friends with you has been refreshing. All the other purebloods know about my past…well, bits and pieces of it anyway. I’m tainted by it. But with you, you never looked at me for anything other than what I’ve been trying to be.”

“And what have you been trying to be?”

“Someone worth remembering.”

“Theodore Onessius Nott,” she spoke quietly but firmly. “You are worth remembering. The Malfoys know it, I know it, and someday, so will everyone else. You are not alone, and you never will be again. Got it?”

Theo glanced down at the determination shining in his friend’s amber eyes, so fierce that he couldn’t help but believe in it.

“Okay,” he said at last.

The pair remained quiet for a few minutes, and then Hermione spoke again.

“Hey Theo?”

He turned to look down at her.

“Yes Granger?”

“Have I ever told you that you’re a really great friend?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he smiled and shoved at her shoulder. Theo knew darkness, he’d been surrounded by it his entire life, but sitting there with Hermione, he thought maybe there was a glimpse of light.

Chapter 14

Draco knew his witch was up to something. Hermione had been distracted for days now, always coming up with excuses to stay in Gryffindor Tower. Had he not known her better, he would think that she was mad at him, but on the rare chance that she did bless their alcove with her presence she acted as she always did. No, Draco knew that whatever it was she was scheming was a surprise for him, which drove him all the more mad. What’s worse, is that it appeared that Theo was in on it. He was acting just as squirrelly as Hermione, and the two of them seemed to be closer than ever. It warmed Draco’s heart to see the two people he cared about most get along so well, but the point remained that he hated surprises, and he was stuck in the middle of one.

The morning of Valentine’s Day drew bright and clear. Draco couldn’t help but sigh as he walked past the throngs of students lining up to leave for Hogsmeade that morning. He loved spending time with Hermione, wouldn’t trade it for the world, but a pang of guilt hit his chest every time he remembered that he could never give her the relationship he wanted to. The golden girl deserved spotlights, not clandestine meetings in empty rooms. Thoughts of inadequacy hung heavy around his shoulders as he approached their hiding spot. However, the look on Hermione’s face quickly pulled him out of his quandary.

“Good morning, Draco,” she chirped. “Happy Valentine’s Day!”

He smiled at her, taking long strides until he could swoop her into his arms.

“Happy Valentines, love,” he spoke into her hair and then grinned as he felt her soften into their embrace.

“I have a surprise for you,” Hermione said in a sing-song voice, pulling back to look up at him.  The jubilation poured off of her features and he didn’t have the heart to tell her that she was as good at hiding surprises as she was at lying.

“A surprise? For me?” He smiled at her excited nod.

“Yes! A few weeks ago, you told me you wished you could take me on a proper date,” Draco’s body stilled.

“I do recall saying that,” he replied, trying to keep the hope out of his voice.

“Well, I figured out how to do just that.”

He gawked at her.

“How?” He managed a word at last.

“Disguising potion,” she beamed.

“But—that’s impossible,” he stumbled, “that’s an advanced potion.”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“I brewed a successful polyjuice potion when I was 12, Draco, I think I can handle a little disguising potion,” she said breezily. Again, the wizard was at a loss for words. Finally, when Hermione said his name in a questioning tone he snapped out of his daze and pulled her into another hug.

“You’re incredible, you know that right?”

She laughed breathily, seemingly relieved at his reaction.

“Yes, well I have heard a thing or two about being bright.”

“You’re more than bright,” he argued. “You’re brilliant, beautiful, and brave.”

“And you’re alliterative,” she joked, trying to blow past the compliments but he refused to drop it.

“Hermione,” he breathed, his eyes honing in on hers.

“You are absolutely amazing, and although your intelligence is astounding, you are so much more than that. Alright?”

“Alright,” she whispered, her cheeks glowing a pretty pink. He kissed each of them once and then said with a grin, “Now, where is this disguising potion?”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Theodore Nott did not want to be in Hogsmeade on Valentine’s Day. If it were up to him, he’d be flying, or reading, or ten other things he could list off the top of his head. Unfortunately for him, his choice to be in Hogsmeade that day had little to do with his wishes, and mostly involved the begging of a certain Gryffindor. Damn Granger and her puppy dog pout. So, despite his protests, Theo was leaned up on the outside corner of Honeydukes, his eyes peeled on the entrance to town. At last, he saw them. A lanky boy with brown hair and a petite blonde at his side. They appeared to be about twenty and dressed in plain cloaks. To the unobservant eye, they would appear to be just another couple of recent Hogwarts graduates celebrating Valentine’s Day together, but Theo knew better. Even with darker hair, a slightly shorter nose and a rounded jaw, Draco Malfoy still couldn’t wipe that bloody enamored smile off of his face.

“Oi, Moreau,” Theo called out to the male.

“About time you showed up.”

Denver Moreau and Charlotte Chamberlain. The new names had been Granger’s idea of course, however Theo had taken a few liberties on the characters’ backstories.

“How are you, cousin?” Theo asked with a devilish grin. Draco, or Denver, rolled his eyes.

“I am well, Theo, and you?”

“Oh, I am doing marvelously.”

He turned to the girl. “And Charlotte, did you find your trip from France to be up to your liking?”

“Oui, ze trip was lovely.”

Hermione’s botched accent was too difficult to ignore, and Theo held back a laugh by clearing his throat.

“Ah, well, excellent. Let me show you around Hogsmeade.”

The plan was rather simple. Theo would let enough Hogwarts students see him leading the unfamiliar couple around, and in turn it would prevent any whisperings of who they were. Hogsmeade was a small village with little reason for travelers, and the Hogwarts rumor mill was expansive. As always, Hermione had thought to plan for everything, and although her French was almost impassible, Theo couldn’t help but think that she would make a Great War general, if given the chance.

“Thanks so much for paying me a visit, cousin, it’s been too long.”

Theo spoke just loud enough to catch the brief attention of a group of curious Slytherin fifth years passing by.

“Well, when you couldn’t come to the villa this year for Christmas, we decided we needed to make the trip,” Denver replied in a low voice. “How unfortunate that we couldn’t see your friend Draco, as well.”

“Yes, Drake is feeling quite under the weather today. What a shame, hopefully he’s in right shape tomorrow.”

The lie slipped off his tongue almost too easily. 

“Send heem our best regards,” Hermione said. Theo winked at her.

“Why of course, Charlotte.”

Theo led the pair by a few of more populated areas of town. Feeling satisfied with his work, he said his farewells and decided that a butter beer was well deserved.

The Three Broomsticks would be overrun with fellow students by that time, and Theo wasn’t particularly in the mood to socialize, so he opted for the Hogs Head instead. He was greeted with silence and the lingering smell of stew. His eyes surveyed the empty chairs, but stopped rather suddenly on a flash of red hair seated at the bar. Whether it was his curious inclinations or a predetermined knack for finding trouble, Theo chose the seat directly next to hers.

“What do ya want?” The bartender’s gruffness did little to damper Theo’s spirits.

“A butter beer please, and another of whatever the lady is having.”

The bar stools were placed so close together that he felt more than saw the witch’s shoulders stiffen beside him.

“What are you doing?” She hissed at him. He smiled at her.

“What, Weasley, no hello?”

“Hello, Nott,” she spoke through gritted teeth. “Why did you order me a drink?”

“Oh, please call me Theodore,” he ignored her question entirely. “Nott is far too formal, makes me sound like my father.”

“Fine. Theodore,” she punctuated the name with a sharp push of her tongue. “To what do I owe this distinct displeasure?”

Despite her family’s peculiar tendencies, Ginny Weasley was a pureblood, and by default that meant Theo had known of her since she was born. They’d attended the same weddings, funerals, and large birthday parties for years now, however this was probably one of the first times they’d ever spoken exclusively.

“I needed a break from the crowds, and the teenage pheromones.”

Theo hadn’t expected the truth to tumble past his lips, but it seemed to appease her, and she was significantly less standoffish in her response.

“Yes, Valentine’s Day does rather suck, doesn’t it?”

He murmured in agreement, and the pair sat in silence beside one another. Eventually she spoke again.

“There were a lot of empty seats in this bar, you know.”

“What an excellent observation, Weasley. With skills like that you should become an auror.”

Her blue eyes narrowed at him, before she sent him a sarcastic smile.

“Weasley, you said? Call me Ginevra.”

“Wanting to cut the formalities?” He grinned.

“No,” she said curtly. “I loathe the name Ginevra, and if your goal here is to antagonize me to my wits end you might as well start there.”

Theo choked slightly on the butter beer he was drinking.

“Ginevra.” He rolled the name around his mouth.

“Lovely name. I’ll remember to use it next time.”

She glanced at him skeptically.

“There won’t be a next time, Theodore.”

He flashed her a real smile, just to see the catch in her breath.

“Don’t place so much confidence in improbable certainties.”

He stood up, placed his glass upside down on the table and set out enough money to cover his and her tabs.

“See you around, Ginevra.”

Her mouth opened slightly as he winked at her and then strode out of the bar. He didn’t know why he’d bothered to sit next to her, but he didn’t regret it. In fact, it might have been the best Valentine’s Day he’d had in a long time.

Chapter 15

Hermione was never late.

Draco paced back and forth in front of the Rowena Ravenclaw statue, wringing his hands. The rest of school would soon be making their way to the Black Lake to watch the second task of the tournament. He was expected downstairs to meet Theo and his parents in only a few minutes, but he was supposed to meet Hermione here first so that they could formulate a plan for after the event.

Hermione was never late, and if she didn’t show up soon Draco knew something bad must’ve happened.

Footsteps echoed from the other side of corridor. Draco let out a breath of relief. Just running late. But when he turned around, expecting to see amber eyes and rosy cheeks, he was instead met by the hesitant brown stare of his best mate.

“Theo? What are you doing here?”

“We gotta go, Drake.” His voice was strained, and the anxious feeling gnawing at Draco’s chest began to grow.

“Where’s Hermione?”

Theo simply shook his head and grabbed Draco’s arm.

“No time to explain other than she’s safe. But we need to move, and you also need to promise me right now that you’re going to behave yourself or else I will full body bind you.”

Draco’s mind was reeling. If Hermione was safe, why did he need to behave himself?

“Draco, I mean it, promise me.”

“Yeah, okay, I promise,” Draco managed to get out before Theo pulled at him and took off at a run.

The pair rounded the corner near the tall stands surrounding the Black Lake as Ludo Bagman was walking up to the announcer’s booth. Draco’s parents were standing beside a private viewing tent waiting for the boys. Upon arrival, Draco and Theo were ushered into the tent, Lucius casting a silencing spell behind them.

“What is going on?” Draco demanded.

“Draco, do not speak to us in that tone,” Lucius’s voice was firm.

“Please just explain what’s happening.” His voice shifted to pleading. “Where is Hermione?”

He turned to his friend, knowing he was most likely to crack. Theo sighed, and then angled his head to the direction of the lake, visible through the clear paneling on the front of the tent.

“Huh?”

“She’s—“ Theo took a deep breath. “She’s in the lake, mate.”

It was as if a fire exploded in Draco’s head.

“She’s WHAT!”

“In the second task, the contestants must rescue something of great value to them, which has been stored at the bottom of the lake,” Narcissa explained calmly from the back of the tent.

“And Potter had to go and choose Hermione?!” Again, Draco yelled, Theo scrunched his face in response.

“Yeah, about that…it wasn’t Potter.”

The tent was eerily silent. And then,

“VICTOR SODDING KRUM DID THIS?”

Draco lunged forward towards the door of the tent, but Theo’s wand was too quick.

“Petrificus Totalus”

His frozen body hit the floor with a soft thud.

 

Lucius and Theo managed to move the immobilized boy into a slightly more comfortable position before they spoke again.

“Listen, I’m sorry, but you promised me you wouldn’t freak out,” Theo chastised. “I’ll release you once you calm down.”

“Draco, Hermione is perfectly safe I assure you,” Lucius added in over Theo’s shoulder.

“She is in absolutely no danger, and once Krum rescues her I have it on Dumbledore’s word himself that additional students will not be brought into any more tasks.”

Draco, only able to move his eyes, looked between the two men with disgust. Anger radiated off of him in heavy waves. He’d never felt this way before, almost like magic was crackling under his skin. He needed to get out of this, he needed to get to her.

“Lucius, dear, we need to explain it to him.”Narcissa watched her son carefully, and in his unbridled rage she saw that her time for delaying the inevitable had finally run out.

“His magic will break through the binds if we don’t calm him down.”

“Cissa, are you implying that I don’t cast a strong enough spell?” Theo pouted and she smiled at him in a motherly way.

“No Theo, for a regular Wizard I’m sure your body bind is quite sufficient. The problem is, Draco has a bit more than wizarding magic to work with at the moment.”

At this confession, Draco’s eyes flitted to his mother and Theo’s eyebrows threaded in confusion.

“What?”

She turned to Draco.

“My dearest boy, I apologize that we did not tell you this sooner, and I also apologize for the manner in which we must tell you now.”

She motioned for Lucius to stand beside her. He grasped her hand in support.

“Draco, as you know, I come from the noble and ancient House of Black. However, what you do not know, is that our house is not as pure as we lead others to believe.”

Theo moved closer to listen, thoughts of what was occurring in the lake completely out of his mind.

“My great great grandmother was half Veela,” Narcissa spoke quietly. “She was beautiful, immensely talented, but above all, not just a witch. Because of it, my great great grandfather would’ve been slaughtered.” She shuddered but continued on. “Instead, my family hid their secret, letting the Veela blood pass down in prosperity. Through each generation, the magic in the bloodline weakened. We cannot phase into Veela form, nor can we fly. It appears that all that remains of my great great grandmother’s lineage is beauty and…” she paused for a moment. “And soulmates.”

Theo let out a low whistle.

“Sodding hell.”

Inside his frozen form, Draco’s brain raced at a thousand thoughts a minute. It all made sense now. His ever present pull towards Hermione, his choice to childishly torment her as a way to get close, his distinct need to protect her from danger. She was his soulmate.

Draco had only learned of veelas through his studies at Hogwarts, but he knew that the bond shared between a Veela and its mate helped to strengthen its magic and direct its purpose. He accepted, in that moment, that his feelings towards Hermione were never fleeting, rather they were a permanent staple in his life. The truth of it calmed him almost instantly.

“Draco, I’m going to release you now,” Theo said cautiously. “And if you run I’m stupefying you.”

Draco couldn’t move to respond, of course, but the fury that glazed over his grey eyes a few moments ago had receded, so Theo determined it was safe enough.

“Finite incantum.”

A whoosh of breath left Draco’s lungs.

“Don’t you dare do it, mate,” Theo warned.

He turned to him.

“Theo, do you really think I have any means of making it out of this tent without full permission?” He said rather stiffly.

“It is nearly killing me to not be able to dive into that lake, but as you requested, I am remaining calm.”

His eyes flicked to his parents.

“You should’ve told me.”

Remorse danced across Narcissa’s delicate features.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

Draco heaved a heavy sigh.

“What’s done is done I suppose.”

His eyes then widened in realization.

“Holy shite. How am I supposed to tell Hermione?”

Theo barked out a laugh.

“With how absolutely smitten you act around her, I doubt she’ll be surprised.”

Narcissa hid her grin behind her hand.

“She’s going to think I’ve known the entire time,” Draco muttered. “What if she thinks I manipulated her? That she didn’t really get to make a choice at all?”

Theo clapped a hand on Draco’s shoulder and shook his head in amusement at his friend’s nervous ramblings.

“Drake, your soulmate is the brightest witch of our age, I think she’s going to be able to logically see past the fallacies you just laid out.”

He looked at his parents helplessly.

“And she’s still at the bottom of the bloody lake!”

“As I said, son, she will not be harmed,” Lucius responded, his eyes glanced past Draco’s head.

“And if I’m not mistaken, it appears Krum has just rescued her.”

Draco raced to the front of the tent and looked out to see a head of familiar curls emerging from the water. As if she knew exactly where to look, Hermione’s eyes met Draco’s, and across the span of distance he saw the barest of smiles flit across her face before she was lost in the crowd.

“She’s okay,” he breathed out, slouching slightly with the release of his anxiety.

“She’s okay.”

Draco’s eyes flashed to those of his parents, both sporting concerned gazes.

“I—I’m sorry for how I acted.” He ran his fingers through his hair, embarrassed.

Narcissa smiled at him softly.

“We’d be remiss to fault you for acting foolishly out of love.”

The breath caught in Draco’s throat.

Love.

The word that so perfectly described how he felt about Hermione. So glaringly obvious now he didn’t know how he’d ignored it for so long. His thought process quickly spun from wonder to panic. He turned to Theo, his eyes wide.

Again, his friend had the audacity to laugh.

“What? Are you just now realizing you love her? She’s your soulmate, and you thought you could just slip past the whole concept?”

“I—she—“ Draco’s mouth opened and closed, making Theo laugh even harder.

“Oh don’t worry, Drake, you’ll figure out how to tell her.”

Draco was still trying to wrap his mind around the revelation when the entry of their tent flapped open.

Severus Snape entered first, followed by a shivering girl in Gryffindor robes.

“Granger!” Theo called out. “How are you?”

“O-okay,” she replied through chattering teeth.

“S’lot colder at the bottom of the l-lake than I’d ex-expected.”

Draco moved forward and tugged her hand so that they stood farther back in the tent, away from any curious eyes. He wrapped his arms around her in relief.

“Thank goodness you’re alright,” he murmured into her hair.

“I wanted to tell you it was happening, but they took me right from breakfast this morning,” she explained. “I didn’t even have time to change.”

“You also don’t have much time now, Miss Granger,” Professor Snape reminded her from Lucius’s side.

“You’ll be expected back at the booth once all champions are out of the water.”

Hermione looked up at Draco, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I can’t imagine how worried you must have been.”

“It’s all okay now,” he assured her with a kiss to her forehead. “Will you be able to meet with us this evening?”

“Yes,” she responded, brightening instantly. “I already feel my headache coming on, must’ve been too cold in the lake. I’m far too tired to engage in the typical celebrations.”

Draco grinned at her and then looked up to his parents, waiting patiently.

“Oh! Mother and father, I’d like you to meet Hermione.”

He spun her shoulders around, and she greeted the pair with a tentative smile.

“Hello Mr. And Mrs. Malfoy, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

Narcissa stepped forward, grasping her shivering hand between hers.

“Hermione, call me Narcissa,” she spoke smoothly. “We are so glad to meet you.”

Lucius nodded beside her and offered a warm smile.

“Although I wish it could be under less duress, we do look forward to seeing you this evening.”

“Of course,” Hermione spoke politely, looking at Snape.

“Should we go?”

Severus nodded briefly.

“Yes, if I kept you any longer people may start to question my abilities at administering a warming potion. Speaking of,” he rummaged in his robe pocket, located a glass vial with a red liquid inside, and tossed it to her.

“Drink up, Miss Granger.”

Hermione uncorked the potion and drank in one gulp, wincing at the intense spice. She looked back at Draco.

“I’ll see you soon.”

Half his mouth lifted in a smile.

“See you.”

“Catch ya on the flip side, Granger,” Nott added in beside him and Hermione rolled her eyes.

“What did I tell you about trying to use muggle phrases, Theo?”

“You told me nothing that I did not conveniently forget.”

Hermione was still shaking her head when the tent flap closed once again.

Chapter 16

“Stop messing with your hair, it’s perfect.”

Hermione’s hands froze on her scalp, and she turned to Draco with a scowl.

“No, it’s a disaster. I don’t know what kind of water is in the Black Lake but it’s some sort of magic because my hair is a frizzy nightmare.”

He smiled at her, gently lowering her hand from her head and linking fingers with his own.

“I do not retract my initial statement.”

Her scowl melted into a weak smile.

“I’m nervous,” she admitted.

“Why? You already met them,” he reminded her and she gave him an exasperated look.

“I barely met them, this dinner is what really counts.”

The pair walked down to Professor Snape’s lab hand in hand. They weren’t worried about seeing other students, as everyone was in their respective common rooms for the post-tournament celebrations. Harry and Ron were so excited to tell their stories from the lake that they merely waved off Hermione when she told them she wasn’t feeling well. It was almost too easy to sneak away.

It had been harder for Draco to convince Theo to not attend the dinner.

“You’re going to make me go to this Slytherin mope fest alone?” Theo whined.

“You can always fake sick?”

“You’re a shite friend, mate.”

“Yeah, but you’re one of the best of them so we even each other out.”

“Kissing my arse isn’t going to make me any happier with you.”

“Well it was worth a shot.”

“Just go you blighter. I’ll make up your excuses.”

 

Draco opened the door to Professor Snape’s office and Hermione walked in ahead of him. In the room, Severus stood in front of the fireplace expecting them. He’d traded in his black cloak for a pair of black pants and a black sweater, and Hermione was taken aback by how different he looked. He nearly smirked at her shocked expression, but his exterior remained neutral.

“Shockingly on time,” he noted casually, and Draco grinned.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to, Sev, I am always on time.”

“Ah yes, there’s that Malfoy arrogance,” he responded sardonically before turning to Hermione.

“The whole family seems to think that time itself runs on their command.”

Her attempts to stifle her laughter failed her. Draco, trying to mask his embarrassment, moved forward quickly to grab a handful of floo powder. He turned back to Hermione.

“We’ll be dining at my home tonight, love. Call out Malfoy Manor, the wards have been opened to allow you in.”

She smiled at him tentatively then watched him fade out in a rush of green flames.

“For a lion you’re acting rather timid,” Severus spoke, and her eyes swept to his.

“I just want them to like me,” she admitted, and at this Snape appraised her solemnly.

“Do you love him?”

Blush stained both cheeks and crept down her neck. She’d considered the question before, but no one had ever had the gall to ask it.

“Yes,” she said at last, and he nodded once.

“I can tell, and so will they. The Malfoy’s value loyalty above all else, which is something you seem to have a great deal of. Don’t worry about them liking you; they already do.”

She chewed on her bottom lip in contemplation before asking her next question.

“Does it bother them that I’m muggle born?”

He looked at her, his black eyes softened, and he replied.

“No. Your blood doesn’t define you, Miss Granger, your actions do.”

She nodded once and then took a handful of powder, walking towards the fireplace.

“Thank you, Severus,” she whispered.

Severus watched the girl disappear through the chute, his composure quickly slipping, because as her figure blurred into the flames, he caught a glimpse of red amidst her mass of curls. Ghosts, it seemed, could come back to life.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Dinner with the Malfoy’s was lovely. There wasn’t a moment of awkward silence, as the well-read Gryffindor could engage in conversation with both Narcissa and Lucius in any topic that came to mind. The couple was so enthralled by the girl that their own son could barely get a word in edgewise. Draco, who was used to being the center of attention, couldn’t even find it in himself to be bothered by it. As the night began to wind down, Hermione found herself leaned against Draco on a chaise in the sitting room. Although it was the first time she’d ever been to the manor she felt completely at ease, almost as if she belonged there. Draco, sensing her calmness, relaxed beside her, however his contentment quickly switched to nerves as his mother began to speak.

“Hermione, it has been so lovely to have you with us tonight, but I feel as though it is our responsibility to tell you something.”

Draco tensed beside her, but Hermione responded in a surprisingly calm tone.

“I would be honored to hear anything you’re willing to tell me, Mrs. Malfoy.”

The older witch smiled at her.

“Please, call me Narcissa, my dear girl.” With an encouraging smile from Hermione, she continued.

“You have been so gracious and loyal in your efforts to protect our family’s secrets, and for that we are most grateful, however I believe it’s time that you learn why we have played these games for so long.”

Hermione leaned forward, eager to learn as much as she could.

“As you know, Lucius and I both come from prominent pureblood families, and as such there were certain expectations placed on us from birth.”

“Bloody stupid expectations if you ask me,” Draco muttered and his mother shot him a look, quieting him instantly.

“As I was saying, we were expected to think of ourselves as superior. When I arrived at Hogwarts, I had never met a muggleborn. In fact, I was raised to believe that muggles were savage and wildly different from us. For my first several years of school, I spent time with my Slytherin friends and allowed myself to believe the lies that my parents raised me on, but during my fifth year I was made a prefect, and I met Lily Evans.”

Hermione’s eyes widened.

“Harry’s mom,” she breathed out slightly and Narcissa smiled. 

“At first, I wanted nothing to do with her. She was a muggleborn therefore she was beneath me, but I couldn’t get out of attending prefects meetings or doing rounds with her, and I found that over time Lily had me questioning everything I knew about blood status. She was intelligent, considerate, and brave. More importantly than all that though, she spoke to me as though I was more than just a vapid debutante. She considered me an equal, and I began to view her as the same. Before I even realized it, Lily had become one of my dearest friends.”

Draco, who had also never heard his mother’s full story, listened attentively.

“We began studying together, which led to my introduction to the other Gryffindors. In addition to Lily, my cousin Sirius was in the house as well, and once he witnessed my changing perceptions, he was more than happy to invite me in to his group of friends.”

“The Mauraders,” Hermione whispered. “You were friends with them?”

Narcissa nodded, but it was Lucius voice that cut through the silence.

“We both were.”

The children’s heads turned towards the Malfoy patriarch in intrigue. Lucius sat confidently in his lounge chair, appearing like royalty from an antique painting.

“Aside from Remus Lupin, most of the Mauraders were purebloods, which meant that I had grown up beside them. Of course, I still spent most of my adolescent years thinking that James and Sirius were a pair of self-righteous dolts.”

Draco snorted but Hermione shushed him.

“By the time your mother became friends with Lily Evans, I too had been affected by her presence during our shared prefect responsibilities. She was a true light to be around,” his eyes shifted to Hermione. “In fact, you remind me of her, Miss Granger.”

Hermione’s cheeks stained pink.

“Anyhow, I was already enamored with Cissa by then, and by fault a bit overprotective. If she was going to spend her time around a ragtag group of lions, then I would do the same. What I didn’t expect, however, was to feel so welcomed. For the first time in my life, I had friendship that was not dictated by social obligation or ulterior motives. My world shifted, and I couldn’t go back.”

“But you had to, right?” Hermione’s voice was small. “Draco had mentioned your parents…” she drifted off, and Lucius continued on.

“Yes, both sets of our parents had very different opinions on the matter. Sirius had already been removed from the family tree, and Cissa’s older sister, Andromeda, had also been removed for marrying a muggleborn. We witnessed firsthand what the consequences of our actions would be if we chose to rebel.”

“We considered it anyway,” Narcissa spoke out. “We discussed it at length, how we could escape our parents’ clutches, and we remained friends with the Potters and the others after Hogwarts, in secret. We were young and still on the bottom of the Dark Lord’s ranks, but we shared with them any information that we could. However, things became more difficult when I found out I was pregnant.”

Lucius raised out of his seat and went to sit next to his wife, who was becoming emotional as her next words flowed.

“Lily and I were so excited, we’d have children that were the same age, we could raise them to be friends, without the expectations, the rules…but then they were forced into hiding.” Her voice was rising with emotion, but she kept speaking.

“When Lily died, I—I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t live in both worlds. I made a plan, to protect our family, but any last vestige of faith that I had in the Black name vanished. I was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and I have been ever since.”

Narcissa, too emotional to continue, let her husband finish the story.

“We went to Dumbledore shortly after we heard about what happened in Godric’s Hollow. We swore our allegiance to the Order and became spies. At first, with the Dark Lord gone, it was easy. We had time to raise Draco, and once my father died, we were able to truly raise him with the ideals that we wanted him to believe. But as he entered school, his role was just as important as ours. To everyone else, we had to appear as the staunch pureblood elitists that the world thought us to be; it was what was best.”

“Harry…was supposed to be my friend?” Draco spoke the words softly, and Hermione could hear the sadness lining his tone. A single tear fell down Narcissa’s cheek.

“Yes, Draco, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all of this. We thought it was the best idea at the time, but it’s proven to be far harder than we ever anticipated.” She shuddered.

“We spoke with Dumbledore recently, and he told us that our time for spying is coming once again. Our secrets must continue.”

She turned to Hermione, a determined but melancholy look in her eye.

“Dumbledore knows about the two of you, he said he’s known for years that your paths would cross in this way.”

“Am I that obvious?” Draco mumbled and his father smirked.

“He said that there are difficult times ahead. For this to work, you must be willing to keep complete honesty with one another. I’m so sorry to pull you into this, Hermione, but it appears that our secrets are now yours to keep.”

Hermione looked out at the three faces looking back at her, and her next words were uttered with no hesitation.

“I will protect the secrets,” she vowed, “whatever it takes.”

Draco’s hand moved across the chair to grip hers tightly and she squeezed back. Narcissa and Lucius smiled, standing to meet her where she sat. Narcissa pulled the girl into a hug and whispered softly into her ear.

“We will always protect you, little lion.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Later, when Draco and Hermione had returned to Hogwarts, Hermione found herself completely unable to sleep. She rose out of bed, slipped through the common room door, and disillusioned herself as she walked silently through the corridors. She knew from experience that the library was never locked. But when her feet hit the familiar carpet lining the library floors, she opted to turn left instead of right, headed towards the archives. Her hands drifted aimlessly across the leather spines of books with identical thickness and color. She counted back the years in her head, and stopped when she found the tome she was looking for.

“Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: 1978.”

Her fingers flipped through the pages until she found the prefects page, hands stilling when her eyes caught what she was looking for. Two girls stood side by side, one blonde and one auburn, both wearing matching smiles. The picture then moved to both of them laughing at one another, then back to smiling. Hermione peered at the green eyes gazing up at her, one’s that felt so familiar, and her heart began to race. She flipped through more pages of the book, finding not just one, but several pictures that corroborated the Malfoy’s tale. There was a picture of Lucius shoving James with a laugh after Gryffindor won the house cup, another of Sirius slinging his arms around Narcissa and Lily’s shoulders as they escorted him to detention, and a final photo of the group of them crowded near each other at the Hogwarts Express station, waiting to return home for the summer. They were just kids, robbed of their choices. The similarities between herself and the teens in the photos made her eyes burn. She snapped the book shut and closed her eyes, forcing breath through her lungs. She couldn’t save the kids in the photos, but she could make sure that their sacrifices were not in vain. With a new sense of resolve pumping through her veins, she snuck back to Gryffindor tower.

Chapter 17

The month after Hermione met his parents flew by quickly for Draco. He spent all the time that he could with his witch, and when they weren’t together, he wished that they were.

After learning that Hermione was his soulmate, it was as if his magic had shifted towards her. He found it increasingly more difficult to focus when she wasn’t around, which made studying without her nearly impossible.

“Mate, you have got to tell her,” Theo encouraged one night, as him and Draco sat at their usual table. Hermione was away, having a girl’s night with Ginny, and the blonde was about to drive him mad.

“Yeah, I know,” he a ran his fingers through his hair with one hand while his other continued to tap on the table in an erratic pattern. “I just, I don’t want her to feel like this wasn’t her choice.”

“So, what if it wasn’t?” Theo huffed out. “Free will is but a concept. Your love, however? That is palpable. It doesn’t really matter how or why you two came together, all that matters is that you did. You’re soulmates. By default, that means inevitability.”

“But—“

“No buts,” Theo argued. “There was no force on this bloody planet that was going to keep your souls apart, so you might as well accept it and let her come to terms with it as well. Soulmates, Draco, the definition is literally embedded in the word.”

“Soulmates?” A third voice rang out in the archive, and Theo spun in his seat to see Hermione standing at the entrance. At last, Draco’s incessant tapping had ceased.

“I thought you were with Weasley,” Theo said weakly.

“She got pulled away for an impromptu quidditch practice,” she replied uncertainly.

“Shite,” Theo groaned, before standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Well, it appears to be time for my grand departure.” He began walking towards the exit. Draco, still too shocked to speak, let him pass.

“Drake, mate, I am sorry about this, but maybe just consider it fate’s intervention?”

The look that his friend sent him had Theo running.

“Alright, yes, formal apology letter coming your way!” He sprinted around the corner before any hexes could be thrown. Hermione walked toward Draco, her breaths drawing quickly into her chest.

“Draco, what was Theo talking about?” 

He licked his lips, as his mouth had suddenly gone bone dry, and then managed to choke out.

“We’re soulmates.”

Hermione blinked at him.

“What?”

Draco took another steadying breath, and then said in a shaky voice.

“I have a story to tell you.”

Hermione listened to him as he explained what his mother had told him. She remained silent until he began his slough of apologies.

“Stop,” she said softly, and his jaw snapped.

“What are you apologizing for?”

“Well for a lot of things,” Draco reasoned.

“For you being permanently tied to me being the main one.”

“Draco.” She wrapped both of her hands around one of his.

“You make it sound like being with you is a punishment,” he grimaced but she kept speaking, “instead of what it really is, which is my greatest blessing.”

Draco’s face shifted from shame to confusion.

“I just don’t want you to feel like you’re stuck with me and my shitty lot in life.”

She laughed lightly.

“Well, it appears that fate had different plans for that fear of yours, but I’ve never been stuck. I chose you, and I choose you every day, I always will.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile, so she pushed it a bit further.

“And as for your lot in life, you’re a rich, handsome, and very eligible pureblood heir who dotes on me incessantly. Plus, you’re descendant from what is essentially an angel. Isn’t that every girl’s dream?”

At this, she received a full grin, immediately easing her worry.

“You’re right, I’m quite the catch,” he teased, and she rolled her eyes.

“Hermione,” he spoke again, his voice softer now. Her gaze flicked to his.

“Yes Draco?”

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“For what?”

“For being everything I never knew I needed.”

She smiled at him.

“Funny, I could say the same thing to you.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was a feeling Hermione had never truly felt before. Lust. It began burning within her the day Draco admitted that they were soulmates, and it hadn’t ceased since. She didn’t know much about Veela bonds, but she assumed that the feelings churning inside of her were her Magic’s doing. For as long as she’d recognized the opposite sex, she thought that Draco was fit, but now those feelings were heightened. Some days, it felt like there wasn’t a single thing he could do that she wouldn’t find attractive. The way his hand gripped a water glass at breakfast, his furrowed brow when he concentrated, the smirk on his face when he caught her looking at him. It was all absolutely maddening.

On one particularly distracting day, in the midst of History of Magic, the frenzy hit its peak. It was the early beginnings of spring, and the sunlight that filtered through the large glass panes created a sweltering heat within the classroom. In response, Draco had rolled up the sleeves of his collared shirt and loosened his tie. It was a mundane motion, similar to many of the other boys in class, but to Hermione it was her breaking point. He looked absolutely delectable, and it took all she had in her to tear her gaze away from him and pretend to focus on the lecture. As if he could sense it, Draco turned to her, and at his first opportunity, he winked. Hermione’s hand shot into the air.

“Yes, Miss Granger?” Professor Binns paused an exceptional long soliloquy on Goblin Wars to answer her request.

“May I use the restroom, please?” She managed to chirp out. Ron, sitting beside her, gave her an odd look.

“Of course dear,” the teacher responded. “Now what was I saying…”

Hermione was out of her seat and across the classroom in bounding steps.

The nearest bathroom was reserved for Prefects, but thanks to Harry’s last task she knew the password to get in. She stood at the base of the sink, splashing water on her face.

“Hermione, get a grip,” she scolded herself.

“I don’t know, I rather like you out of control,” a lazy voice drawled behind her. Hermione’s body stiffened, brown eyes meeting grey in the mirror.

“Draco? How did you find me here?” She stuttered. “How did you even get in?”

He grinned at her from the entrance, moving forward.

“Sometimes it pays off to be cordial with Zabini.”

He assessed her with an almost predatory gaze.

“So, Love, care to tell me what has you in such a tizzy?”

“You great prat,” she huffed out but he merely grinned wider, moving forward to nudge her back against the sink counter.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he breathed into her ear, making her body shiver in response.

“Do you have something you’d like to share?”

“I couldn’t focus,” Hermione breathed out, her pulse pounding.

“Oh,” his lips brushed gently along her jaw, “and why is that?”

“You’re too bloody distracting.” She moaned the sentence, losing her train of thought as his mouth pressed delicate kisses on her neck.

“You think I’m distracting?” He murmured.

“Love, I feel like I’m barely keeping it together every day.”

“Hmm?”

He smiled into her skin.

“You’re mind-blowingly beautiful, and I find that it’s all I can focus on every time you step into a room.”

“Tell me more,” she panted.

“I watch you across the room, and all I can think of is how desperately I want to be doing this.”

He finally pulled his lips to hers and she exhaled a sigh of relief, gripping strands of his pale hair to pull him closer.

“So, perfect,” he breathed between their kisses. They kept at it for several minutes, their lips memorizing every line, until at last, Draco pulled away and swiped at his hair.

“Although I would love to do this all day, we probably should go back to class before someone notices.”

Hermione let out a frustrated groan, but agreed, beginning to straighten her robes.

“Hermione?”

“Yes, Draco?”

She glanced up at him and noticed that the fervor that had filled his eyes was now replaced by something else. Nerves?

“Willyoucometothemanorforeaster?”

He blurted out the question so quickly it merged into one word.

“Pardon?”

He took another deep breath.

“Will you come to the manor for the Easter holiday?”

“Oh,” Hermione blinked several times before realizing that Draco was anxiously awaiting an answer.

“Yes, I’d love to.”

His nervous expression morphed into a true smile.

“Okay, great, we’ll talk more about it later in the alcove.”

“Sure,” she replied with an easy grin that only widened when he twisted his fingers into hers and tugged her forward towards the door.

“You go first, I’m going to hang back a while.”

She raised a brow.

“You’re not coming back to class, are you?”

He almost managed to look sheepish. Almost.

“Binns is a bore, and I have better things to do.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You’re a delinquent.”

“Maybe so, but I’m your delinquent.”

He kissed her forehead and gave her a gentle push.

“Now back to class, golden girl.”

 

Chapter 18

“Theo, stop shoving me!”

“I’m not shoving, I’m trying to fit into the frame! Your big head is blocking my shot.”

“Oi! Piss off.”

“Boys! This is no way to act around a lady!”

“Trust me, Cissa, Hermione has seen far worse.”

Theo went to say more, but Draco trapped him in a headlock, rendering him unable to continue the conversation.

Lucius laid a hand on his wife’s shoulder, watching fondly as the three teenagers in front of them squeezed against one another to fit into a picture.

“Oh hush, Theo. You too, Draco. Now stand up nicely and everyone smile!”

Lucius found that he too was abiding by the young Gryffindor’s instructions.

“Alright, children, I suppose we’ve gotten enough photos,” Narcissa said to a chorus of satisfied cheers.

“Draco, one on one quidditch?” Theo asked excitedly.

“You’re on, Nott!” Draco replied, before turning to Hermione, embarrassed.

“Ah, actually, Hermione, do you mind if I go for a bit of flying?”

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, a smile playing on her lips.

“Yes, Draco, go ahead.”

Theo stepped forward to leave a smacking kiss on her cheek.

“Thanks Granger!” He sang, jumping back before she could flick his ear.

Narcissa and Lucius watched the antics unfold, smiles never leaving their faces.

“It’s so nice to have them,” Narcissa murmured to him.

“Yes,” Lucius agreed, “and Hermione is fitting in perfectly.”

Over the past week, Lucius watched Hermione blossom from a shy shell into her true self. She was intelligent, confident, and able to keep the boys in line, which was a miraculous feat. When she wasn’t with Draco and Theo, she spent hours in the sitting room with Narcissa, drinking tea and asking questions about wizarding culture, or she could be found in the Malfoy library. Her and Lucius would sit in chairs near each other, stacks of books around them, only speaking when they had a new interesting fact to share. Yes, after this week, there was not a doubt in any Malfoy’s mind that Hermione belonged with them.

“Things aren’t always going to be this easy,” Narcissa remarked after a moment of silence.

“You’re right, my love. The war is coming,” Lucius replied.

“How will we protect them?”

Her body language remained calm, but after decades together, her husband could feel the nerves radiating off of her.

“By any means necessary.”

“What should we tell them?” Her voice now wavered.

“Nothing,” his answer was solemn.

“Not yet, anyway. Let them feel safe for a while longer.”

Lucius looked out the window, watching the boys swoop around on their brooms. Below them, Hermione laid out a picnic blanket, gazing up at Draco in wide eyed wonder. If it was up to Lucius, he wouldn’t tell the children anything about what was occurring outside the walls of Hogwarts. He’d hide them from the whispered rumors of the dark lord that were sweeping through the ranks, and he’d deny the covert meetings that he and Cissa attended in the dead of night. Most importantly, Lucius would’ve given anything, everything, to be able to shelter his children from what he knew was coming. But he was not a fool, and he knew that their time to be young and careless was quickly running out. So, for the rest of their break, he would let them be children. It’s the least he could do, knowing the sacrifices that were still to come.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Miss Hermione, would you like some more tea?”

Hermione, startled by the sudden appearance of a house elf, replied in an octave higher than normal.

“No, I’m fine for now, thanks Poppy.”

Poppy bowed deeply.

“I will check on you again in twenty minutes.”

“Oh no that’s really—“

The elf disappeared with a pop, and Hermione let out a gentle sigh.

“Persistent little thing,” she muttered to no one in particular. The girl was currently situated in a corner of the Malfoy library, trying to learn more about a new side project that she had dreamed up before they headed back to school in a few days. Draco and Theo were in Diagon Alley picking up new quidditch supplies, but she’d stayed back, opting instead to have a quiet afternoon by herself. Well, quiet aside from Poppy’s near constant interruptions.

“I should’ve known I’d find you in the library.”

An impassive drawl sliced through Hermione’s train of thought and her eyes shot upwards to meet the dark stare of her potions professor.

“Professor Snape,” she said, startled, “I wasn’t expecting to see you until dinner.”

“How many times must I remind you to call me Severus?”

“Mm, probably a fair bit more than you’d like,” she responded cheekily, and she almost received a smile in return.

“Well then, Severus,” she emphasized his name with a grin. “To what do I owe the pleasure? The boys have gone out with Lucius, and Narcissa is off running a charity function, so I’m afraid you’re stuck with me until they return.”

“As it turns out you are the person that I was seeking to meet with.”

His response had her raising a brow.

“Me? Whatever for?”

Severus moved forward to sit in the chair across from her, folding his hands into his lap.

“I believe it’s time that you heard my story, Hermione.”

Her eyes widened.

“Should Draco and Theo be here for this conversation?”

Severus quirked a brow.

“Do you think they need to be?”

Hermione sat for a moment, mulling his question over. How very Slytherin of him to put the choice back on her.

“No, I suppose not.” She said at last.

Severus’s eyes glinted with satisfaction.

“And why do you think that?”

“Well, because Draco and Theo grew up with your presence,” she started, twisting her fingers as a nervous tick.

“They have always seen both sides to you, and they are familiar with having to keep secrets themselves. But I—I did not have the same upbringing.”

“Go on.”

“For them, their trust in you was inevitable, but for me, it must be earned. It has to be understood. And you know that, so you’re going to explain yourself.”

Then, and only then, did Severus grace her with a rare flash of a smile.

“You are quite astute, Hermione.”

She flushed immediately.

“Just a bit of logic, sir.”

“You need not be so humble.”

“I—“ she paused, “you’re right. Thank you.”

Seeing that she had nothing else to say, Severus began his story.

“I wish I could tell you that my story is a happy one, but as I’m sure you’ve figured out, happy stories from the first war are few and far between.”

She steeled her shoulders in anticipation.

“I’m ready, I can handle it.”

He nodded curtly.

“My years before Hogwarts were, unfortunate. The details don’t matter, what does is that despite all the misfortune that I’d been given, my one bit of luck was that Lily Evans lived on the same street.”

He stopped for a moment to see if Hermione would interrupt, when she did not he continued.

“Lily was my best friend, and whether or not she knew it, she saved my life. The friendship that we forged in those early years of childhood and continued in our first years of Hogwarts were invaluable to me. To her I owe a debt that I could never repay, but I vowed that I would try.”

“Did you love her?” Hermione’s voice was small and Snape looked at her contemplatively.

“I loved her as a friend, but I wasn’t in love with her,” he said at last. “Also, she’d been in love with James,” he only slightly sneered saying the name, “since sorting day, she just didn’t come to terms with it until we were teenagers.”

“But you detested James. You even don’t like Harry because of it.”

Severus shook his head slowly.

“I didn’t like James, yes, but it really wasn’t anything to do with Lily. He gained my displeasure through his own actions. Harry does embody a few of his father's more frustrating traits, but there’s more to it than you’d think. When I see Harry, raised an orphan, I feel like I’ve failed her. His eyes are just like his mother’s, you know.”

His eyes shifted to a faraway glaze.

“Narcissa and Lucius became loyal to the order because of friendship, but I—well, let’s just say that my loyalty to the order stemmed from retribution. I sought to avenge the deaths of those I loved, and it’s led to me to great lengths.”

“You’re a double agent.”

She made the statement without question, but he confirmed it regardless.

“Yes.”

“Does the order know?”

“About me? Yes. However, Lucius and Narcissa are a bit more complicated. Only a select few in the order know about them. If too many people were aware, it would put them at risk.”

“And what about your risk?”

He let out a dry laugh.

“My death would be far less consequential than theirs. If anyone is going to be potentially outed as a spy, I’d rather it be me.”

His eyes turned back to her, black and piercing.

“Do you have any other questions?”

“Many.”

He gave an irritable huff before she continued.

“But I really only need to ask this. Why did you ever join his side to begin with?”

Severus blinked at her, he was surprised by her question, but answered it nonetheless.

“I was trying to save…someone.”

“And did you?”

Again the girl was met with silence.

“No.”

She nodded.

“But you did everything you could to try to protect them.”

Severus didn’t flinch. Hermione was a smart girl, and he knew that she’d put the pieces together herself soon enough if he led her in the right direction, so he nodded.

“Will you protect Draco?”

He sensed the hesitancy in her voice, heard the fear in its quaking tone.

“You will all be protected.”

“I don’t care much about myself,” her voice regained some of its regular strength, “but I care about Draco, and Theo, and, well, most of Gryffindor Tower, but for tonight, just the two of them. I need them to be safe.”

“Don’t put so little faith in your own importance, Hermione.”

“I could say the same to you.”

His eyebrows raised, only slightly.

“The lion comes out of her den at last.”

She opened her mouth to say more, but she was cut off by another voice walking closer.

“Hermione! Love? Where are you?”

Draco rounded the corner and paused at the scene before him.

“Oh, hello Uncle Sev, I didn’t realize you were coming so early. Father is in his study if you need him.”

“Well then I’ll be off to find him.” He rose stiffly, glancing at Hermione before moving away.

“Severus!” She called out. He turned back to her.

“Thank you.”

His features softened for only a moment, but he did not reply before sweeping towards the door.

Once he was gone, Draco moved to sit beside the girl, and tilted his head in her direction.

“What was that about?”

“I think, in a rather odd way, that was Severus’s way of giving me his approval.”

“Well it’s a bit late for that,” Draco teased, pulling her forward so that she was sitting on his lap.

“I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

She smiled, leaning forward to press her lips to his. They had only just begun kissing, however, when the characteristic pop of a house elf had them springing apart.

“Miss Hermione! Would you like that tea now?”

“No thank you, Poppy!”

Despite her embarrassment, Hermione grinned into Draco’s shoulder as he laughed.

Chapter 19

“Granger, take a walk with me.”

Hermione glanced up from the book she was reading to look at Theo. She’d been sitting beside him and Draco for several hours now, but they hadn’t said much. The trio was returning to Hogwarts via floo the next morning, and their looming departure tainted the air with melancholy. After two weeks of living freely, the thought of resuming their secrets and charades felt especially burdensome, especially for the Gryffindor who was not as well versed as the other two in secret keeping.

“Where are we going?”

She turned to Draco, but he merely shrugged and nudged her forward with his foot.

“You heard the man, take a walk.”

Draco resumed reading his own book, smirking, and Hermione’s gaze returned to Theo all the more confused.

He held out a hand expectantly and she placed her own in his, letting him pull her into a standing position. They walked in silence out of the sitting room and down a hallway.

“Are we going to the garden? It’s raining outside, Theo.”

The corner of the boy’s mouth turned upwards.

“How about for once in your life you walk forward without a meticulously planned out destination.”

“I do not plan out every destination!” Hermione huffed, but when Theo began to chuckle she found herself joining him. He led her down hallways that were becoming more recognizable each day, passing the formal sitting room, then the ballroom, and then the entry to kitchen, but when he veered off into a room she had never entered, she paused.

“What is this place?”

“Again with the questions,” he fake whined in response but otherwise did not answer her, instead grabbing at her hand again to tug her forward.

“Relax, my darling little lion, I promise to neither attack you nor snog you in this dark room. Draco would attempt to maim me for either action, but I’m afraid at this point Narcissa cares for you so much that she’d actually go through with my demise. Draco is all talk after all.”

“You’re such a pest.”

“You knew this and yet willingly walked with me. That says more about your character than mine!”

He sung his response, jumping forward into the cavernous space they had just entered.

“What is this place?” Her voice echoed slightly.

Theo casted a quick lumos, illuminating the room to reveal portraits of various sizes and types hung on every wall. Landscapes, faces, and starry skies all peered down at her from above. Hermione’s gaze turned lower, spotting several easels set up with different painting supplies, and in the corner, she saw a pottery kiln.  

“Welcome to Galleria di Nott.”

Hermione’s eyes grew wide.

“Theo, you painted all of these? This is your work?”

He smirked at her.

“Don’t look so surprised.”

Hermione moved around the room, her eyes dancing across intricate paintings and the occasional wizard photography.

“You’re an artist,” she breathed.

“Eh, I dabble.”

“Oh please,” another voice interjected from the doorway.

“You choose now to be modest? I find that hard to believe.”

Draco leaned against the doorframe staring at his best friend in amusement. Hermione turned to him.

“You knew about this?”

Draco smiled.

“Of course, love. This gallery has been Theo’s since we were too young to fly a broom.”

“It’s incredible,” she remarked quietly.

“I didn’t realize you were so talented.”

“Yes, well, pureblood wizards aren’t really supposed to indulge in art,” Theo admitted, a new bitterness lining his tone.

“My father forbid the hobby.”

“So naturally my parents built him a sanctuary here,” Draco chimed in beside him. “Bloody spoiled if you ask me.”

“Oh coming from the pale prat that has a full sized practice quidditch pitch outside.”

“You use that as much as I do!”

“Maybe, but I’m not the one who asked for it for my eleventh birthday so that I could, and I quote, crush Potter in the matches next year.”

“Yes well what about—“

“For Godric’s sake will you two stop?”

Hermione’s demand silenced their banter and they looked at her sheepishly.

“I swear you two are as bad as Fred and George.”

Theo let out a mock gasp.

“It would be my honor to be like Fred and George. They’re pranking legends.”

“Unbelievable,” she murmured, shaking her head. Instead of arguing further, she turned back to the paintings surrounding her, running her finger gently along the nearest frame.

“In all seriousness, Theo, this is beautiful.”

He grinned at her, now in earnest.

“Thanks, Granger.”

“No, thank you for showing this to me.”

“Oh!” Theo snapped his fingers. “That reminds me. I actually didn’t just bring you in here to show off.”

“Knew it,” Draco muttered.

“Shut up Drake.”

He turned back to Hermione, smiling even wider.

“I made you something!”

He sauntered forward and pulled a frame out from behind one of his easels, handing it to Hermione. She leaned forward and gasped at what was before her.

The painting was composed of a multitude of greens and reds. Intricate designs of vines, stems, and flowers flooded the canvas, creating a dazzling recreation of one of Hermione’s new favorite places. The detail in the artwork nearly took her breath away. He had included everything, from the slowly trickling water in the fountains to the bees that lazily fly from flower to flower. Narcissa’s garden looked as beautiful in paint as it did in real life, and Hermione was taken aback by the sudden resonance that took seed deep in her heart. Home.

“It’s gorgeous,” she whispered, blinking away tears that were quickly forming in the corners of her eyes.

“Aw, Granger, don’t cry.”

Theo placed the painting down and then scooped the girl into a hug.

“I wanted this to be a nice surprise!”

“It is a nice surprise!” She pulled back to look up at him.

“It’s incredibly thoughtful. Who would’ve thought you could come up with something like that.”

Draco barked out a laugh as Theo grinned.

“There she is.”

“I’ve been here the whole time.”

“No, you’ve been sad and withdrawn all day. I was going to save this for your birthday, but I figured you needed the pick me up. This way, you can have a piece of the Manor, even when you’re at school. I’ll have Poppy put it with your things.”

Again, Hermione blinked back tears.

“Oi! Stop making her cry you dolt.” Draco’s concern was evident in his panicked tone.

“I’m not trying to!”

“No, it’s okay,” Hermione insisted, wiping at her eyes. “It’s perfect and I’ll cherish it forever. Thank you.”

Both boys smiled, but this time only Draco stepped forward.

“Are you ready for your next surprise?”

“Another one?” Hermione’s eyebrows raised.

“Yes,” Theo sighed, “Draco has a propensity to want to one-up me.”

Draco glanced back at him, a smirk lingering on his features.

“I can’t let you outshine me with my own girl, mate.”

Hermione’s blood warmed with his words, sending a gentle thrumming through her veins. She would always be his, she always had been.

“Alright you two scamper off now.”

Theo threw up a hand, shooing them away, as he perched himself onto one of his stools and addressed a half-finished canvas featuring a storm raging across the ocean.

“I need to get my last moments of solitude in and finish this before I’m stuck to painting in our room until summer.”

Draco wrinkled his nose in distaste.

“Those oil paints do smell horrendous, not enough ventilation down in the dungeons. We’ll leave you to it.”

Draco ushered Hermione out of the space and walked closely beside her down the hallway, brushing shoulders every few steps.

“Where are we going now?”

He intertwined their fingers but otherwise said nothing. She let them lapse into a comfortable silence. At last, he pulled her into another doorway she’d never seen. The candles flickered to life upon their entrance, and she found them standing in an empty room.

“It’s…empty?” She questioned.

“I like to think it’s full of possibility,” Draco responded quietly, and she turned to look at him with a laugh.

“When did you become so positive?”

“What can I say, Love, you truly bring out the best in me.”

She rolled her eyes at his exaggerated attempts at flattery.

“Seriously, Draco, what is this room?”

“It’s yours.”

She whirled to stare at him fully, noticing the way he wrung his hands nervously in front of her.

“Theo has his gallery, I have my potions lab—“

“Your what?”

He flinched.

“Ah, yes, I still have to show you that. Anyway, I have that, and now this is yours. You can make it into anything you want it to be.”

Hermione blinked at him, her mouth gaping open in surprise.

“I—what! That’s too much.”

“No, nothing is too much, trust me. If you wanted this room lined in gold and filled with a never-ending supply of jewels, we could make it happen, money is not a concern. Although, I do like to think your hobbies are a bit more interesting than the pursuit of invaluable antiquities, that’s rather dry in my opinion.”

Hermione spun in a circle, taking in the ornate ceilings and bare walls. Draco was right, the room was filled with possibility, with hope, with a future, if she wanted it. She looked back at him, now smiling.

“Can I think about it? There’s just so many options.”

Draco’s breath of relief whooshed from his chest, and then he returned her smile.

“Yes, of course, as much time as you need. We’ll write mother and let her know when you decide and then they can have everything ready for the summer.”

“The summer?”

Draco’s smile shifted back to a more nervous expression.

“Yes, well, I just thought that we’d had so much fun on this break that you may want to repeat it.”

He stepped forward, wrapping her hands in his, and his mercury eyes honed down on her intensely.

“Come home with me this summer, at least for a few weeks. You belong here, with us.”

“Yes,” she breathed, “of course. I—“

Draco was kissing her before she could finish the sentence. A few moments later, they broke apart, both wild eyed and smiling.

“Can I see your potions lab now?”

Draco faked a groaned and grabbed her hand, moving towards the door.

“I should’ve known you were going to say that.”

“You’re right,” she agreed, “you do know me best, after all.”

Chapter 20

---

The short stint between the Easter holiday and final exams was rushed, leaving Hermione with little time to do anything but study. As usual, Ron and Harry were in desperate need of her help with revisions and essay writing, and Harry had the added stress of still not knowing what his last task would be. Out of loyalty, and maybe a bit of guilt, she spent much of the last two weeks in the Gryffindor common room helping them prepare.

“Harry, what does it mean if we can see Saturn’s second moon, again?” Ron’s eyes flickered across his star chart, brow furrowing in confusion.

“I think it mean impending death,” Harry responded idly, “but let me double check.”

He began flitting through the text for clarification.

“You think everything means death is coming,” Ron deadpanned. “With how much you talk about it one would think you’ve got some experience with it or something.”

Harry laughed.

“Divination is a load of rubbish,” Hermione chimed in from the next chair over.

“Yeah, we know your stance on it, but it’s a little late for us to get out of taking this final,” Ron grumbled.

“I don’t know, we could always just stand up, announce that the class was complete bollocks, and then never show up again.”

Harry turned to Ron, his green eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Do we know anyone who’s done that?”

Ron, playing along, tilted his head in consideration.

“Hmmm, I think we do, but I just can’t seem to put a name to it.” He turned to Hermione, now grinning.

“‘Mione, do you know who we might be talking about?”

She rolled her eyes at the pair of them, both laughing.

“Okay, yes, I get your point. Now back to writing! At this rate the future is going to be well over by the time you lot are done deciphering it.”

The trio turned back to their studies, quiet for a few moments, before Harry spoke again.

“I spoke with Dumbledore, and I have to go back to the Dursley’s this summer.”

Ron and Hermione turned to look at their friend, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

“What! No, that’s codswallop,” Ron argued, “they abuse you and you’ve got a perfectly fine guardian. Makes no sense, tell him you refuse.”

“Can’t,” Harry replied glumly, “Dumbledore said it’s something to do with blood magic, I have to see them every summer to stay protected.”

“Well, he certainly can’t make you stay all summer,” Hermione reasoned, “Tell him you’ll stay through your birthday and not a day more.”

Harry’s expressions lightened at her words.

“Oh, that’s a good idea, I hadn’t considered it.”

“Really? Harry Potter viewing something as all-or-nothing without considering the concept of a compromise? Shocking.”

Her dry response was not lost on Harry, who chuckled.

“That’d be perfect,” Ron agreed, “then you can join us at the Burrow until school starts. Mione, you’re coming too right?”

The boys looked at her expectantly, and guilt lodged in her throat. She couldn’t say no, she didn’t have any valid excuses. As far as they knew, she’d get plenty of time to see her parents. Really, though, she’d already had a tough time convincing her parents to let her stay at the Malfoy’s. In fact, Narcissa made a special trip to meet them, and her visit was truly how Hermione had gotten permission at all. Going to the Burrow would leave her only three weeks to spend with Draco and Theo, and her heart was sinking at the thought of it.

A few weeks is better than nothing, she reminded herself, and she’d promised to make sacrifices to keep the secrets. She shoved back her disappointment and forced a smile onto her face.

“Yes, of course.”

“Brilliant!” Harry and Ron echoed.

Hermione simply nodded in response, afraid that if she opened her mouth, a secret may inadvertently fly out.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Can someone tell me again why we’re doing this?” Ron threw out the question to a small group of Gryffindors that were following his lead down to the quidditch pitch. Someone had caught wind in the Great Hall that the Durmstrang students held their dueling class outdoors, and rumor had it if you sat at the top of the quidditch stands and looked towards the lake you could watch them.

“Because, Ron,” Hermione answered, “Reconnaissance is as important to a war as actual battle. We’re gathering knowledge to give Harry the upper hand.”

“Actually, I’m just here to watch hot men fight each other,” Ginny admitted shamelessly.

“No offense, Harry.”

“None taken. At this point I’ll take help from anyone, ulterior motives included.”

“Ew Gin,” Ron complained from ahead of her. “Don’t talk about them like that, they’re the enemy. That’s almost as bad as saying you like a Slytherin.”

Hermione bit down on her tongue and remained silent.

“Oh please, Ronnekins,” Ginny shot back,

“Beauty does not discriminate against house nor school. If it did you certainly wouldn’t belong in Gryffindor.”

“Insulting me is kind of like insulting yourself, you know, we share the same blood.”

“Neville,” she spoke sweetly, ignoring her brother in favor of the boy beside her.

“Do you think I look like Ron?”

“Absolutely not.” He answered immediately, and his ears began to burn a vibrant pink.

“Oi! Don’t flirt with my sister!”

“Shove off Ron,” Ginny turned back to him smirking. “And dear old Nev just proved my point. Blood Schmud. The Durmstrang boys are fit and there is nothing you can do about it.”

“Looks aside, though,” Hermione redirected, “We’re here for a purpose. We need to see how they fight.”

“It’s the Triwizard Tournament, for Godric’s sake, I highly doubt they’re going to make the last task be something as boring as a wizards duel.”

“Better safe than sorry, Ronald. Plus, this will help us figure out what Victor knows.”

“Why don’t you just ask him yourself, you’re on a snogging basis after all,” Ron muttered but quickly backtracked when he noted a murderous glare flash across Hermione’s face.

“Sorry, sorry, didn’t mean it. Let’s go spy on these wankers.”

“Wankers is right,” Seamus agreed from the back of pack where he walked between Harry and Dean.

“They hexed Neville going up the stairs last week.”

“Wait,” Ron’s head whipped around, suddenly realizing just how many of them were walking.

“Why are there so many of us?”

“Hermione offered to help us study tonight if we agreed to help her identify which hexes the Durmstrang students are throwing,” Neville responded.

“I really need her help to pass Transfiguration.”

“Same here, Flitwick is going to fail me in Charms if I light anything else on fire,” Seamus added.

“I actually didn’t know what we were headed to do, but I wasn’t about to be left out. Lions run in packs.”

Dean rounded out the responses and the group laughed before starting their initial ascent up the stairs of the quidditch stands.

 

“Uh oh,” Neville mumbled, “snake sighting.”

Ahead of them, a cluster of Slytherin students were already seated. Hermione’s chest warmed as her eyes settled on a head of platinum hair.

“Let’s sit somewhere else?” Neville suggested, but it was too late, they’d already been spotted.

“Well well well, the freaks got out of the circus.” Marcus Flint’s low voice floated down to them.

“Oi! Quit being such a posh snob, Flint,” Seamus angrily retorted.

“I’m just telling the truth,” he countered,

“We’ve got a mudblood, a coward, a fire hazard, a loud mouth,” he ticked off his insults on his fingers, like reading a grocery list. He continued, “two charity case gingers, and last but not least, the chosen one.” He sneered his last sentence. “All we’re missing is the clinically insane. Lovegood didn’t want to join you?”

Harry stepped forward, wand raised.

“Shut your mouth before I shut it for you,” he growled. Hermione rushed forward and put a firm hand on his chest, pushing him back a step.

“Stop, Harry. You can’t get in trouble before the last task. There's no time for detentions. Back down,” she murmured. He blinked down at her, green eyes glazed over with frustration.

“He can’t talk about us like that.”

“I know,” she glanced up at Flint, her shoulders set in determination.

“I’ll handle it.”

Harry sighed, but lowered his wand and stepped back towards their friends.

Flint let out a low whistle.

“You’ve got Scarface on a short leash, Granger. Are you that domineering in bed, too?”

“That’s enough,” Draco snapped from behind Flint. Students' heads from both houses whipped towards him.

“You got a problem, Malfoy?” Flint asked him.

“Yeah, I do. Have you no shame, Flint? Did your mother teach you no manners? Make fun of the blokes all you want, but keep the ladies out of this.”

Flint sputtered.

“You can’t seriously be defending a mudblood right now?”

“I’m not saying she isn’t an annoying know-it-all,” he explained himself patiently, as if speaking to a toddler, “I’m just saying that talk of the bedroom is out of line.”

“What a gentleman,” Pansy cooed beside him, and Hermione tensed.

“I can fight my own battles, Malfoy,” Hermione called out to him, and he glanced at her, his grey eyes flickered with a hint of amusement. He backed up a few steps and put his hands up placatingly.

“Oh, by all means then, Princess,” his mouth lifted into a smirk.

“Go ahead and handle it.”

Only half a hex was out of Marcus Flint’s mouth when Hermione had him flying back onto the bleachers with a stupefy. She disarmed him, next, and shot him with a tickling hex for good measure. She spun his wand in her fingers and turned to the remaining Slytherins.

“Malfoy, keep this safe for him, eh?”

She threw it towards him, and Draco caught the wand easily, suppressing a grin.

She glanced back at the Gryffindors, all sporting various expressions of shock, and she barked out a chuckle.

“Am I really that surprising?”

“No, ‘Mione, you’re just scary sometimes.” Ron’s answer had all of the Gryffindors, and even a few of the Slytherins, laughing.

 

“Come on, let’s sit over there.” Hermione started moving towards a section of bleachers farther away, and the Gryffindors followed. She didn’t look back at the Slytherins.

 

When she was out of earshot and someone had enervated an embarrassed Marcus, Theo whispered to Draco.

“You are one lucky bastard, mate.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Chapter 21

“A maze?”

Hermione’s jaw dropped at Harry’s admission.

“Yeah,” he confirmed nervously. “‘Mione, I’m in so over my head on this one. I’m going up against wizards that are three years ahead of us in school. I just, I don’t even—“

“Stop.”

Hermione’s sudden fierceness rendered him silent.

“You will be fine, Harry,” she assured him. “We’ll set up a training schedule, you’ll learn every defensive and offensive spell within reason that could be useful to you. We’ll resort to muggle survival methods if that’s what it takes.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile as Hermione dove into a detailed explanation of how the next month was going to play out. He interjected her tirade.

“You’re the best, you know that right?”

She stopped her prattling to smile back at him.

“Of course I am.”

Harry, perceptive as ever, saw her glance meaningfully at something behind his head. He turned to see what she was looking at and was met with platinum blonde and dark brown heads of hair two tables over, suddenly looking very interested in their potion materials. Harry snapped his gaze back to her.

“Is Malfoy giving you trouble or something?”

“What?” She appeared startled.

“No, nothing is wrong with Malfoy. I mean, nothing is going on with—well what I mean to say is that he isn’t giving me any trouble.”

Harry tilted his head, but decided to let her flustered state slide by. Somewhere in the room, he could’ve sworn he heard someone begin to chuckle, but it was quickly silenced. Shaking his head slightly he looked at his friend.

“So, about your training schedule?”

Hermione grinned and started yammering again.

 

 “Can you learn to laugh silently?” Draco hissed to Theo, who nearly had tears running from the corners of his eyes.

“Draco, please for the love of Merlin teach that girl how to lie,” he rasped. “She’s going to get us all killed some day.”

Draco looked at him and responded wryly. “If anything, Granger would be saving our skins, not risking them. Now stir the cauldron correctly before Uncle Sev comes over here.”

“So demanding,” Theo tutted. “Almost bossier than her. Yet, she does have you wrapped around her finger, so you must concede at some point.”

“Theodore,” Draco warned and the Slytherin laughed again, albeit this time much quieter.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. I’ll be quiet, gods forbid you hit me with another of your silent stinging hexes.”

“It’s not me you should be worried about,” Draco said with a slight smirk. “If you keep it up, I’ll tell Granger what you said.”

Theo’s eyes widened and he turned his head down to the instructions, remaining silent for the rest of class. It appeared that the wrath of the golden girl was as good a threat as any. Draco smiled to himself. He wouldn’t have it any other way.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The last Triwizard Task was only a few days away, and Hermione was a bundle of nerves. She couldn’t shake the feeling that her boundless efforts to prepare Harry may not be enough to win. Not that he needed to win, per se, he just needed to survive. However, Hermione was too competitive to squash all her ambitions of Harry becoming the next champion.

It was late into the night, far past curfew, and Hermione was still tucked away at a hidden table in the library scribbling notes about different variations of stupefy that could help to slow down fellow contestants.

“Hermione.”

Draco’s whisper nearly jolted her out of her seat.

“Merlin, Draco,” she muttered. “You nearly scared me to death.”

“Yeah, well, you’re going to work yourself to death first if you aren’t careful.”

Their gazes met and she saw the worry etched onto his face.

“Love, you haven’t slept properly or eaten a full meal in weeks. Please, go up to Gryffindor Tower and go to bed.”

“I’m fine, I promise.” Her insistence did little to soothe him, and he moved closer, tugging at her hands to stand with him.

“Hermione, I applaud your dedication, I really do, but I can’t stand to watch you neglect yourself like this. Please let me take care of you.”

She blew out a breath and rested her forehead on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, and the simple motion made the girl’s fragile sense of nobility crumble. She began to cry into his shirt.

“I’m so tired,” she weeped. Draco, saying nothing, began to sweep his fingers along her curls in gentle, soothing motions.

“I just can’t let him fail, you know? He already has so much against him, and no one even believes he can do it and—and I want him to prove them all wrong.”

“You want what’s best for the people you love,” Draco noted casually and Hermione tensed in his arms.

“Draco, I don’t—“

“I know you’re not in love with him,” he started, “at least, I do now anyway. But that doesn’t mean you don’t love him. He’s like a brother to you, I see that now. He’s your Theo.”

“Technically speaking, Theo is my Theo, because I love him too,” Hermione teased and Draco groaned in mock exasperation.

“I’ve been very good at keeping my jealous tendencies at bay tonight, don’t make it any harder on me.”

She pressed a kiss into his chest and then snuggled deeper into their embrace.

“I don’t want to go back to the tower,” she admitted, “I want to stay here, with you.”

Draco’s breath hitched, and he inclined his head down to look at her.

“Here? You want to sleep in the library?” He spoke incredulously and she shrugged.

“Library, broom closet, astronomy tower, it doesn’t much matter to me. I want to be wherever you are.”

Draco let out a slow breath, calculating his next decision. His idea was reckless, but he did fall in love with a Gryffindor after all. He reasoned with himself further, if he spent the night with her then he could ensure she got the rest that she needed. He took another breath, and met his grey eyes to her brown.

“I know where we can go.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was late and Draco was still gone. Theo paced the length of their shared room, again and again, grumbling. If he tried to sleep now, Draco would wake him up, but if he stayed up waiting he’d be tired all of tomorrow. A double edged sword.

“Blighter’s lucky we have a decade’s worth of friendship to fall back on,” he muttered to himself irritably. He turned again, ready to make what felt like his thousandth trek across the carpet, when the door knob to the room began to rattle. Thank Salazar. However Theo’s look of satisfaction quickly morphed into one of confusion as he watched not one, but two people enter his chambers.

“You’re kidding,” he managed to utter.

“Theo, listen—“

“Drake, please tell me this is a joke,” he ignored his friend’s plea.

“Tell me that this is the greatest mirroring spell ever accomplished, tell me that it’s Blaise under polyjuice, tell me literally anything that could alter the fact that Hermione Granger is standing in our bedroom right now.

“Well hello to you too, Theo,” Hermione said with a smirk. His eyes flitted to her.

“My adoration for you in no way makes this visit okay, Granger.”

She blew him a kiss and moved to sit on what was presumably Draco’s bed. Theo tracked her movements and then switched his attention back to his best friend, who as far as he was concerned was in deep shit.

“She needs to sleep, she won’t do it if left unattended,” Draco tried reasoning with him. “She’s not sleeping, she’s not eating, you’ve seen it yourself!”

“Yes, well that’s all fine and good Draco, but that doesn’t change the fact that Hermione is a lady and a Gryffindor. The act of her merely standing in our quarters right now breaks about ten school rules, not to mention about fifty other pureblood faux pas that I don’t care to mention at the moment.”

“Please, mate,” the blonde switched to pleading. “She’s already here, I’ll owe you one forever.”

Theo scoffed. “As if you don’t already owe me a perpetual favor.”

His head turned to meet Hermione’s nervous stare.

“You promise to sleep?” She nodded and he continued.

“And I mean sleep, not snog Draco in a silenced bed for hours on end.”

“I’ll sleep on the floor,” Draco suggested, wincing slightly when he saw Hermione’s pout of protest. Theo rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be an idiot. Just sleep on the bed, make sure she actually sleeps, and both of you will be waking up and leaving this room the moment I give word, because if even one half-awake Slytherin sees you in the common room we’re all royally fucked.

“Theodore!” The girl chided. “Language.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Now’s not really the time for scolding about rule breaking, Granger.” She merely grinned at him.

“You’re the best brother I could ever have,” Draco said earnestly, and despite his grumpy appearance, Theo softened at his words.

“I know I am. Now sleep.”

He waved his wand and turned back towards his own bed, plunging the room into darkness.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

On the day of the last task, the clouds swallowed the sun, coloring the world in desolate shades of gray. Hermione tried her best not to take it as a sign, but even she couldn’t shake the feeling of imminent danger that lingered around them. She’d stayed up late the night before pouring over the ancient rules of the tournament. At first, it was an attempt to calm her nerves that the judges wouldn’t let Harry die, but it quickly became a last ditch effort to see if he could withdraw himself altogether. Harry had been running from death since the moment he was born, and she was afraid that it was on his tail yet again.

“Hermione, you need to eat something.”

Ginny’s soft words beside her shook the girl from her own head. Her eyes snapped to Ginny’s, blue and blazing, and nodded once.

“You’re right.”

Ginny cracked a wan smile.

“But of course, I always am.” She paused for a moment and then continued.

“Where’s your head been at lately? If you need to talk about something, anything, you know I’m here.”

The piece of toast that Hermione was chewing suddenly became very dry. She swallowed hard and replied quickly.

“Oh I’m fine! Just worried about Harry and today and all that.”

Ginny appeared to sigh, but only slightly before she conceded.

“Alright, well, if anything else ever comes up that you want to discuss just say the word alright?”

The redhead’s eyes flicked to the clock behind the table.

“It’s starting soon, we should probably get a move on. Ron and the others are meeting us at the pitch.”

“Let’s get this over this then,” Hermione murmured. Straightening up from her seat and then grabbing Ginny’s hand tightly as they walked.

“Merlin, I’m nervous,” Hermione whispered. “Why do I feel like this?”

“I don’t know, but I feel the same,” Ginny admitted, glancing out towards the maze where she spotted Harry standing with the other contestants.

“It’s like they’re sending a lamb to slaughter.”

“Ginny!”

“Sorry! I knew it was bad the second it left my mouth. You can’t trust me not to ramble when I’m nervous!”

“It’s fine, this is all going to be fine.”

Hermione’s assurances were more for herself than anyone else.

Hermione and Ginny sat down beside Ron, but he was too preoccupied to say much beyond hello. Had Hermione not been so utterly terrified, she probably would've thought that the three of them were quite a sight, but she was too busy tightroping the borderline of hysteria to find any humor in it. 

Ludo Bagman announced the start of the task, and the stands watched Harry and the other contestants retreat into the lush green hedges.

“Do you think he has a shot?” Ron murmured to Hermione, his eyes still on the spot where their best friend had disappeared into the fog.

“I hope so,” she answered. “And hope is all we can do now.”

Ginny filled their wait with meaningless babble, her nerves clearly getting the best of her wit. Hermione tried to listen to her, but her mind was elsewhere, searching for a head of pale hair in the crowds. Where was Draco? Where was Harry? Would he be alright? Would they all be alright? Question after question plagued her, trapping her in an endless stream that all lacked answers. She couldn’t take it anymore, so to pass the time she instead focused in on the large clock that sat beneath the judges table.

Tick tock tick tock tick tock.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione experienced the end of the tournament in flashes of overwhelming emotion.

“Harry’s won! He’s done it!” Ron yelled.

Elation.

“But what is he holding?” Ginny asked.

Confusion.

“Good lord, it’s Cedric Diggory,” Ron breathed.

Panic.

“Voldemort is back!” Harry screamed again and again, and the sound was lost in the roar of the crowd.

Fear.

The fear stuck with her long after the other emotions faded. Hermione’s throat was choked with it, she could barely breathe, let alone get any words out.

“Harry!” Ron and Ginny charged forward through the throngs of people to reach him, but Hermione couldn’t move. She was stuck in a tumultuous flood of fear that was quickly overtaking her senses, like water rushing through a broken dam. Through her haze, she felt a hand tug her backwards, and she tumbled into the shadows underneath the stadium seats.

“Hermione, breathe.”

She recognized that voice, she loved that voice, so she did what it said.

“That’s it, love. A few more deep breaths for me.”

Again, she complied. Through her actions, she began to resurface from the depths of her panic. Her surroundings became more clear, and she blinked several times at the blonde wizard standing in front of her.

“Are you with me?”

Draco’s voice was low.

“Y-yes,” she managed to stutter out, and he nodded before pulling her into his arms.

“What’s happening?” She whispered, but Draco merely shook his head.

 

“I-I don’t know. My parents aren’t here, they didn’t tell me anything.”

Hermione’s stomach swirled.

“What do you mean? Where are they?”

“I don’t know. All I got is a letter that told me they weren’t able to attend, and that I need to keep you safe.”

His words thudded in her ears.

“Safe from what?” She whispered. He shrugged his shoulders helplessly before pulling her even closer.

“I don’t know. I’m sorry,” he spoke repeatedly into her hair.

“Sorry? What in Godric’s name are you sorry for?”

“For pulling you into something so dangerous. You’re golden, Granger, the best person I’ve ever known, and all I’ve ever done is put you in danger, force you into secrets, drag you down into the dark. You don’t belong here, with me.”

“Draco, no.” She pulled away to look up at him, speaking fiercely.

“You’re wrong. I do belong with you and you haven’t forced me into anything! Don’t you get it? You are my light. I mean, Merlin, Draco, our souls chose each other. This isn’t a passing fancy, this is forever. You’re stuck with me. Stop trying to push me away when we’ve barely even begun.”

Their eyes met. Brown to grey, dark to light, and Draco nodded once.

“I don’t deserve you,” he whispered.

“I’m going to spend the rest of my life arguing that you do.”

Her response was quiet, but final, and then she crashed her lips against his. The kiss was passionate, fueled by rash emotion that showed itself in hard presses and clashing teeth. Due to their surroundings, the kiss had to be over nearly as abruptly as it had begun. Hermione looked up at him, her eyes slightly glazed.

“I should probably go find them before they come looking for me,” she spoke with labored breaths.

“Yeah, I need to find Theo as well.” Draco glanced around and then tugged her back for a last lingering kiss.

“Tomorrow, at Kings Cross, we’ll sneak away from your friends and apparate back to the manor with mum and Theo.”

Hermione’s brow furrowed.

“I’m still coming with you? What happened today doesn’t change anything?”

“Hermione, what happened today may change a lot of things, but it doesn’t change you and me. Like you said, you’re stuck with me forever. Your safety is my first priority, and I’ll go mad if I can’t be near you.”

“I love you.”

She didn’t mean to blurt it out, the three words that had sat patiently on the tip of her tongue for what felt like months, but they erupted nonetheless. If today had brought Hermione anything, it was a new perspective that time was fleeting, and Draco needed to know of her feelings for him. He inhaled suddenly, as if plunged into cold water, and then he breathed out with a blinding smile.

“I love you, Hermione. Forever.”

The words hummed in her ears and chest like a warm vibrato, and in the midst of the remaining chaos, when she heard from Harry about Voldemort’s return, when she watched Cedric’s father carry his body off the field, when she learned that their professor had been a death eater in disguise, that vibrato was what kept her grounded. She would stay calm, for Draco, she would survive, for Draco.

And the next day, with the irrefutable strength of their love pumping in her veins, Hermione boarded the Hogwarts Express.

Chapter 22

Hermione arrived at Malfoy Manor in a fiery blur of green. In a change of plans, they had flooed from a private fireplace hidden in an inconspicuous office at Kings Cross Station rather than apparating. Lucius had been unable to escort Narcissa to the station, citing some sort of meeting as an excuse, and although the witch was powerful, she could not apparate with three full grown side-alongs. Hermione coughed, removing the soot from her lungs, and looked around. She’d come in through the sitting room, and it looked the same as when she’d left after Easter. The only difference was three framed photographs placed on a nearby shelf. One was of her and Draco smiling, a second of Draco and Theo wrestling, and a third of her, Draco, and Theo, laughing with their arms slung around each other.

“Ah, yes, I simply love how those turned out.”

Narcissa spoke from behind her, stepping out of the fireplace as gracefully as if she were dancing. Somehow, there was not a speck of dirt on her robes. Yet another pureblood parlor trick Hermione yearned to learn.

The girl edged forward to more closely inspect the first photo.

“He looks happy.”

“He is,” Narcissa agreed, “because of you.”

The girl turned to look at the Malfoy matriarch, pink staining both cheeks.

“For what it’s worth, my darling girl,” Narcissa stated, “you are everything I could have hoped for my son.”

Hermione’s blush deepened. She moved to respond, but the flames of Draco and Theo’s arrival quieted her. The pair burst through the hearth, already in a tussle, and they paid no mind to the heartfelt scene that played out before them.

“Cut it out you blighter!” Draco grunted, struggling to escape Theo’s hold on him.

“Then just tell me!”

Narcissa cleared her throat, and both boys’ eyes raised to meet her disapproving stare.

They immediately broke free of one another and stood straight.

“Sorry, mother,” Draco mumbled.

“Your son had it coming, Cissa,” Theo argued halfheartedly, his voice tinged with embarrassment.

“Wrestling through the floo? We’ve taught you better.”

Lucius’s deep voice echoed from the entryway of the room where he had just entered. Hermione glanced at him, and despite his rigid posture, she noticed the twinkle of amusement in his eye.

“Oh, hello father.” The color drained from Draco’s face.

“Lucius.” Theo’s eyes widened slightly.

“Son, Theo,” Lucius replied with a smirk.

“As I was saying, it appears that the both of you are in need of a punishment.”

He then turned to Hermione, the corners of his smirk twitching into the beginnings of a real smile.

“Hermione, what do you think it should be?”

“Hmmmmm.” Hermione stroked at her chin thoughtfully, refusing to look at the pair.

“A night without quidditch would probably do it.”

“Granger,” Theo whined, “come on, that’s downright torture.”

After spending a school year without quidditch, not to mention having the entire pitch be overtaken by a topiary maze for the past few months, Draco and Theo were begging to jump on their brooms to practice. Hermione knew that, because they hadn’t ceased speaking about it for weeks.

“You heard the girl,” Lucius affirmed, “no quidditch tonight.”

Theo huffed and walked forward to Hermione, giving her his best attempt at puppy dog eyes.

“Pleaseeee reconsider.”

“Oh lay off mate,” Draco spoke from beside him.

“Seems fair enough to me.”

Theo turned to his friend, his face now contorted with annoyance.

“Of course you bloody think that, you’ll just spend your newfound free time snogging her.”

“Theo,” Draco’s voice dropped low in a warning.

“If you’re mad, do something about it,” Theo taunted. Draco needed no further encouragement, and he leapt forward to pounce, but Theo had anticipated his move and was already halfway out the door and running into the hallway. Draco chased after him with a shout.

“It appears they’ll be spending the night fighting,” Lucius drawled drily.

“Like we raised a pack of wolves,” Narcissa sighed against him, and then their eyes returned to Hermione, who stood before them rather sheepishly.

“Our dearest Hermione, on the other hand, would never cause us any trouble.” Narcissa winked at her.

“Come along with me, dear, I’d love to show you what I’ve done with the garden.”

“I’d be delighted,” Hermione beamed at the older witch, linking arms and following her out of the room. Lucius’s eyes traced their departure, affection filling his heart.

When they had gone, he stepped back towards the hearth, steeling his expression to an emotionless mask. Once his grey eyes were clouded over in occlusion, he rolled up the shirt sleeve of his left arm and peered down at the twisted snake and skull that stared back up at him. He hated that mark, hated all that it stood for and all that it would bring, but the power of his occlusion dampened the hatred. In fact, it muted everything he had felt just moments ago, dulling the world into a murky gray. Where he was going, feelings were a weakness, and he would not dare put his family at risk. With a final breath, he pressed the tip of his wand into the mark and disappeared in a wisp of black smoke.

 

“Where is father?” Draco’s eyes landed on Narcissa, while his hands continued to delicately slice into roast on his plate. He couldn’t help but maintain his impeccable manners, even during such a casual family dinner.

Narcissa patted delicately at her lips with a napkin before replying,

“He’s away, handling a few…important matters. He will speak with us when he returns.”

Draco arched a brow. He wanted to say more, but he knew the underlying meaning of his mother’s response. He was not to ask anything else until his father was back.

He cleared his throat and then turned to Theo.

“Well, mate, what do we do tonight without quidditch?”

“I don’t know, I still think that a certain little lioness may change her mind.”

Theo leaned towards Hermione with a devilish grin.

“What do you say, Granger darling?”

Hermione placed her fork on the table and turned to square up to her friend.

“If you want to play quidditch tonight, you’ll have to earn it.”

“Earn it how, exactly?”

“By winning a game, of course.”

Granger smiled, and despite Draco’s typical ability to withhold his genuine reactions, he laughed.

“Why are you laughing?” Theo demanded, but Draco merely shook his head.

“Mother, may I be excused?”

“Yes, son,” she replied with a smug grin. “May I ask where you’re headed?”

“I’ll be in the library. Hermione, do you care to join me when this is over?”

“I’d love to.”

He rose out of his seat. Theo continued to stare at his friend, flummoxed.

“Draco, what are you talking about? Don’t you want to play quidditch?”

He placed a hand on Theo’s shoulder and attempted to keep the smirk off his lips,

“Mate, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you’re not winning Granger’s game.”

“How do you even know what the game is?”

“I don’t, but I know Hermione,” he paused to look up at her admiringly. “And you don’t stand a chance.”

 

An hour or so later, Draco sat in his favorite chair in the Malfoy library, scribbling into a notepad. He was brainstorming potions that he wanted to try to brew in his lab over the summer, and the list was growing to be much longer than he’d anticipated. Ahead of him, the door to the library creaked open, drawing him from his thoughts. He expected Hermione, but he couldn’t say that he was surprised to find a smoldering Theo in her wake.

“Why the long face, Nott?”

Draco shared a knowing grin with his witch as she settled down beside him.

“Your Gryffindor brat. That’s why.”

The boy looked downright petulant, and Draco couldn’t hide his amusement. He’d tried to warn him, after all.

“It’s poor taste to be a sore loser, Theo,” Hermione teased, “and I am not a brat.”

Theo sat down in a nearby chair and crossed his arms.

“Yeah, well, perhaps you are not. But you cheated. There’s no other explanation.”

“Have you ever considered that maybe I’m just exceptional at wizard’s chess?”

“No. No no no. I am an exceptional wizard’s chess player, which would make you a bloody prodigy. It simply can’t be.”

“But it is,” Draco interjected their banter, snaking an arm around Hermione’s shoulder and leaning her back into his side.

“Hermione here is unbelievably good at games. Turns out that’s just about all the lions do when they’re locked away in their tower.”

“I—just—but—“

“Theo, we’ve been over this,” Hermione attempted to placate him.

“I play all year and then I practice all summer with the Weasley’s. I offered to let us try a different game, and you refused. You brought this on yourself.”

“I take back my former take-back, you are a brat.”

Hermione let out a mock gasp, perturbing him even further.

“How dare you call me a brat, how ever will I overcome such a name. I mean, it’s not like anyone has ever called me anything worse.”

Both Theo and Draco shrunk under her meaningful stare.

“Love—“

Hermione placed her hand on Draco’s, silencing him.

“Do you want to keep this up, Theo? If you think I’m new to being bullied, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Theo’s face twisted into a grimace, and Draco recognized it to be one of regret.

“Alright you’ve made your point,” Theo sighed, “I’m being a blighter. I’m sorry, Hermione.”

“Thank you,” her voice grew soft. “You know, you can still play quidditch, if you want. We may have taken this a bit far.”

Theo shook his head.

“I lost, and fair is fair.”

He stretched back in his seat, making it known that he was settling in for the night. He grabbed the nearest text off of a pile and began to rifle through it.

“All jokes aside, you’re a worthy opponent, Granger. And damn anyone who’s ever made you feel otherwise, myself included.”

He didn’t raise his eyes from the words, and Hermione didn’t respond, but Theo’s point was clear all the same.

Chapter 23

Six days passed without any sign of Lucius. Hermione could tell that the boys were worried, and their coping mechanisms continued to grow stronger each day. Draco, on the one hand, could not stop moving. He rose early to complete his fitness regimen, and then shifted in to solo quidditch practice in the afternoons. When Hermione tried to coerce him into slowing down, he continued to be a ball of energy indoors, tapping his fingers or pacing everywhere he went. By the fourth day, she found it easier to let him work through his anxieties on the pitch, which left her to single handedly deal with Theo. In comparison to his friend, Theo coped with humor. At school, he could channel his nervous energy into pranks on unsuspecting first years, but in the quiet confines of Malfoy Manor he’d resorted to jokes on Hermione and the house elves.

The Gryffindor took most of the pranks in stride, familiar herself with Fred and George’s antics, but between Draco’s compulsive need to exercise and Theo’s drive for a laugh, her patience was wearing thin.

By week’s end, Hermione had developed her own coping strategy—avoidance. That was how she found herself the sole inhabitant of the sitting room. It was nearly midnight, but she didn’t dare head towards her quarters, fearing that Theo had laid out some sort of trap. Instead, she sat in her regular chair, doodling constellations into a notebook. She was halfway through Canis Major when a plume of black smoke filled the space. She dropped her quill in fright and leaned back into the seat.

Before her, Lucius and Severus materialized out of thin air. The men were leaning on one another, as Severus supported his friend’s weight. Lucius appeared to be conscious, albeit barely. All Hermione could focus on was the blood that dripped from his face and onto his robes. It stained his platinum hair pink and her stomach turned at the sight of it.

“Lucius,” Hermione gasped. Her voice appeared to startle Severus, who was not expecting company in the room.

“Hermione, find Narcissa, now.”

She rose to run.

“There is no need, Severus.”

Narcissa’s voice called from the entrance. Hermione didn’t know how she knew to be there, but she didn’t have time to consider the logistics of it all. Severus worked to lay Lucius down on one of couches, and the man winced slightly with each move.

“We need to stop the bleeding.”

Narcissa nodded once, moving forward with her wand raised. She murmured spell after spell, casting a golden light around her husband’s body. He moaned in what appeared to be agony, and the blood finally began to recede from around him. He took a shuddering breath as the last wounds closed, and then he attempted to sit up.

“Lucius, stay still.”

“Cissa, I’m fine.” His voice was gravely, like he hadn’t spoke for days. Maybe he hadn’t.

“You most certainly are not fine.” Despite her calm exterior, there was a note of worry in her tone.

“I am, I promise. Now gather the children, I must speak to them.”

Nodding once, Narcissa turned to the girl who remained frozen in the corner of the room.

“Hermione, my dear,” Narcissa spoke gently, “Please fetch Draco and Theo and meet us in the drawing room as soon as possible.”

“Okay.”

 The voice that left Hermione’s mouth barely sounded like herself.

“The girl is in shock,” Severus observed from behind her.

“I will assist her in gathering the boys.”

Narcissa agreed easily, turning back to her husband to administer more healing spells.

Severus swept forward, grasping Hermione’s elbow and spinning her to move towards the exit. They were a hallway away before he spoke again.

“Hermione, listen to me. I know that this is stressful, but you must remain calm.”

“Calm?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

“We will explain what is happening, but for now, I need you to use the courage that you Gryffindors drone on and on about. The war is coming, and only the strongest will survive. You must do what it takes to survive, do you understand me?”

She nodded mutely. Snape pulled on her elbow again, stopping her, and then he turned her to face him.

“Hermione, do you understand me?”

Hermione blinked up into her professor’s dark and intense stare, and finally the haze of panic receded. His words sunk into her brain, and she nodded again, more forcefully.

“Yes. I’ll do what it takes.”

The smallest breath of air left his lungs.

“Good.”

They resumed their path to the boys’ rooms.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Hermione clutched Draco’s hand tightly as they walked to the drawing room. She felt his worried gaze upon her, again and again, but she did not meet his eyes. If she did, she feared that she would lose any semblance of control that she had. Instead, she clung to the promise she had made to Severus only minutes before. Be brave, Hermione. You have no other choice.

Behind them, Snape and Theo also marched briskly, but no words were being exchanged. The silent group weaved through the manor halls, at last bursting through the doors into the drawing room.

Before them, Lucius sat in fresh robes. He was pale, but Hermione noted a bit of color returning to his cheeks. Almost all signs of his prior distress had disappeared, and the girl was grateful not only for herself but also for her boys. If she could barely stand to see him in that state, she had no idea how Draco or Theo would’ve handled it.

“Father!” Draco ran forward but stopped when his mother held up a hand.

“Be delicate, Draco,” she instructed, “your father is healing.”

“Healing? What happened?”

His eyes flickered between his two parents, but they remained stoic.

“Draco, please, take a seat.”

Lucius looked up to the rest of them standing.

“All of you, please, make yourself comfortable.”

Hermione sat down next to Draco, and again wound her fingers tightly through his. Rather than finding another seat, Theo squeezed in beside them, and they sat shoulder to shoulder in an unspoken act of solidarity. Snape walked forward and stood beside the Malfoy’s.

“What’s going on?”

Draco’s voice sounded far calmer than Hermione currently felt.

“I wish that I had better news,” Lucius started. “In fact, I wish that this day never would have came.”

His shoulders rose with a deep breath.

“As you may have heard at the end of tournament from Mr. Potter, the Dark Lord has rose again. He was correct.”

Hermione squeezed her nails into Draco’s palm so hard she feared she’d drawn blood, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“Bloody hell.”

Theo’s whisper was the only noise uttered for several seconds.

“He is attempting to rebuild his troops, prepare for war. Last week, Severus and I were summoned to him.”

“Father, no.” Draco’s voice lodged in his own throat. Lucius’s grey eyes met those of his son.

“We don’t have a choice, Draco. We warned you of this.”

“I—“ Draco began but then closed his mouth and swallowed back whatever argument was on his tongue. Unlike her Gryffindor friends, Hermione noted that he knew when his fight had been lost. Instead, he nodded curtly.

“Currently, the Dark Lord’s work is elsewhere, outside of Britain, but he will return. We have less than a year until that occurs.”

“What do we do now?”

Lucius motioned to answer Theo’s inquiry, but it was Hermione’s voice that rang out first.

“We prepare.”

The adults turned to look at her, their expressions varied between apprehension and admiration.

Lucius cleared his throat.

“Hermione is right. We prepare.”

Draco squeezed her hand once.

“Our first priority is ensuring Hermione’s safety. If the Dark Lord was to know of her relationship with any of us, it would be our immediate downfall.”

“How do we protect her?” Draco’s voice remained steady, strengthened by his commitment.

“We close off our minds through occlusion.”

It was Narcissa who answered this time. She stepped forward and placed her hand on Draco’s face.

“Starting tomorrow, my dragon, we will begin occlusion lessons.” Her head swiveled to the other two.

“All of you.”

Her voice left no room for argument.

“We will also practice your dueling skills,” Snape spoke from farther back, beside Lucius.

“I will return every Tuesday and Thursday for the rest of the month. When school begins, we will make other arrangements.”

The children nodded, their faces solemn.

“We know that this is a lot to take in, but try not to worry,” Lucius’s voice was low and calm. “You are still children, and we will protect you for as long as we can.”

“Everything we will face, we will face together,” Narcissa added.

“Are we in agreement?” Lucius asked.

“Yes.” Their murmured answers echoed against one another.

“Excellent, now it’s time for bed.”

The boys immediately rose, taking heed of their dismissal. Hermione, however, lingered back.

“Lucius, may I have a word?”

“Of course, dear.”

He waited until Draco and Theo had vacated before turning to the girl.

“Let me guess, you’d like to know why you came across me bleeding out in Severus’s arms?”

“No.”

The briefest look of confusion flitted across the Malfoy patriarch’s face.

“I mean, yes, I would like to know why that occurred, but I understand if you can’t tell me. You’re entitled to your own secrets, even after you’ve been so willing to share many of them with me.”

His shoulder’s relaxed slightly.

“Alright, dear girl, then what is it you need?”

Hermione took a steadying breath.

“Would it be safer, for him, if I left?”

She didn’t not specify who she was referring to, but she did not have to.

“What kind of leaving are you referring to?”

Hermione released a breathy laugh.

“Of course, you answer my question with a question. What a tremendously Slytherin trait.”

Lucius smiled, but only slightly. When he did not respond, she pushed farther.

“It’s not that I want to leave, it’s quite the opposite, actually, but I just—I can’t bear the thought of being a danger to him. If it’s safer for me to leave, to no longer know of the secrets and to be sent away where I am not a, not a liability, then I will learn to accept my fate.”

“No!”

A third voice cried out from the doorway. Draco ran into the room, his eyes storming and set directly on Hermione.

“What are you even thinking, Hermione? Do you really think I could last a day, even an hour, without you?”

He turned from her to his father.

“Don’t answer her question. I don’t care if I’m being selfish, and I don’t care if I wasn’t supposed to listen. I will not stand idly by and let her walk away.”

“Draco,” she whispered, tears now freely flowing down her cheeks. He stepped forward and placed his hands on either side of her face, his thumbs sweeping away the tears forming in the corners of her eyes.

“Hermione, I can’t do this without you.” His eyes burned with sincerity.

“Remember what you said last week? Our souls chose each other. You’re stuck with me, and I promise that I will wake up every day and do everything in my power to protect you. I love you more than words can say. Please, don’t leave.”

Hermione nodded fervently, leaning forward into his embrace.

“I’m scared, Draco.”

“I know, love,” he spoke down into her tangled curls. “But we’ll handle it together.”

 

Several minutes later, when Draco had successfully calmed down his witch and asked Poppy to accompany her back to her room and make her a cup of tea, only the Malfoy men remained in the drawing room.

“I’m sorry, father.”

Draco broke the silence.

“I know better than to eavesdrop, and I will accept any consequences, but her magic was…calling to me. I knew she was feeling distressed, and I had to come back.”

Lucius nodded.

“I accept your apology, son.”

“Thank you.”

The boy bowed slightly, turning to leave, but Lucius’s request stopped him in his tracks.

“Draco, please clear your schedule for tomorrow morning.”

“Yes sir,” he paused, “may I ask why?”

The corner of his father’s mouth tilted up, only slightly.

“If what I just witnessed is indicative of anything, I do believe a trip to Gringotts is in order.”

Chapter 24

The next week passed in a rush of lessons and forced distractions. Each morning after breakfast, Hermione would walk to the garden with Theo and Draco. Once there, the trio met with Narcissa for their occulmency lessons.

“I want you to imagine that your brain is a powerful secret.” Narcissa’s words sprinkled over them like gentle rain.

“Take your thoughts, and form them into something precious, and then imagine yourself locking it away. Your mind is your own, and no one can access it. You must believe that. Will it to become true.”

For the first few days, Hermione experienced great difficulty determining her precious item. At first, she thought of a book, but found that books were too easily opened. Next, she tried a locked chest, similar to her trunk from school, but the trunk was too large for her to control, and far too easy to spot by a trained legilimens. She was quickly losing hope of ever mastering the important and potentially life-saving skill, but finally, on the third day, she discovered the perfect item.

The locket that hung on Hermione’s neck was one given to her by Jean Granger on the day she left for Hogwarts, a family heirloom from her mother’s side. It was a small golden oval etched with flowers that hung from a delicate chain. Small, unassuming, and always present; an ideal item in which to conceal secrets. Each day, as Narcissa increased the complexity and length of their lessons, Hermione began to fill her locket. In it, she placed her most vibrant emotions and deepest fears. At the end of each session, Hermione patiently followed Narcissa’s instruction.

“Close your item and lock it tight. Tuck it away, far and deep down, and then, conceal it in plain sight in your mind. The true secret to occulmency is subtlety. You must make a legilimens believe that you are not occluding at all. They will not search farther if they believe there is nothing to hide, and in this way, perceived transparency will be your greatest shield.”

The three young wizards worked tirelessly on perfecting their craft. Staying up into late hours of the night, sometimes barely speaking to one another, delving deeper and deeper into their own minds. Even Theo, with his easygoing tendencies, was taking their quest seriously. They all knew that the stakes were high enough to provoke utmost dedication.

By the second week, Narcissa began prodding into their thoughts outside of their lessons, attempting to snake her way into their minds without warning. Fortunately, the children were quick to catch on, and she was most pleased by their progress. Draco, especially, appeared to have a natural inclination for occlusion. The witch was confident that by the end of the summer, all three students would be well prepared.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“What are you thinking about?”

Draco asked one evening, as he and Hermione sprawled out on the manor lawn, gazing up at the stars.

“Who said I’m thinking about anything?”

Draco laughed quietly beside her.

“Love, I can hear the wheels spinning from here.”

Hermione remained silent for a moment. Draco’s hope that she would speak began to dwindle, but at last she found her voice.

“I’m thinking about what’s ahead of us, what we’ll have to face.”

He didn’t answer her right away, instead shifting to gently run his fingers through her hair.

“I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“It’s not me that I’m worried about.”

She peered up at him and the breath caught in his throat. Merlin, she’s beautiful.

“If anything were to happen to you, Draco, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me.”

His attempts to soothe her did little to quell the anxiety that he watched swirl in her eyes. He tried again.

“Hermione. We are going to survive this.”

“And if we don’t?”

Her voice was small and insecure.

“We will.”

His reply was firm.

“Malfoys are resilient.”

“But I’m not a Malfoy.”

The sentence hit him in a flash of startling clarity.

“Will you come with me? I have something for you.”

The question burst from his lips, and he held back a wince. This was not what he had planned, but her insecurity sparked something in him that he could not control; a fire of yearning and curiosity that burned in his chest and would not be extinguished until he accomplished his task.

“Of course.”

Draco smiled, pulling her into a standing position. He began walking back towards the house, down the hallways until they made it to a room Hermione had not seen since Easter break. Her breath hitched.

“Is it ready?”

He did not respond, instead opening the door and casting a lumos into the space.

“See for yourself.”

She tentatively stepped forward.

With Hermione in the lead, the pair walked into the formally empty room, which was now changed into a dance studio. Floor length mirrors lined the walls accompanied with ballet bars. In the corner, several racks held different dance supplies, and a small closet in the front of the room contained shoes and outfits. When Hermione had requested her space be changed to this, Draco was surprised by the request. She explained to him that she’d been a ballet dancer all of her childhood, only stopping when she entered Hogwarts. In the summers she had still attended muggle classes and camps, finding that it helped her to relax. Narcissa was more than happy to comply with the girl’s request, and the room had been ready and waiting for her for several weeks.

“Draco,” Hermione exhaled slowly, “it’s beautiful.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

She turned around, grin stretched across the entirety of her face, and Draco’s heart thumped loudly in his chest. For a moment, he basked in the luxury of just looking at her. The chestnut curls he loved so much were held up into a bun by her wand, and several pieces fell out to frame her face. Her eyes, amber orbs flecked with gold, crinkled up in the corners as she continued to smile at him. His gaze tracked downward, noting that she wore one of his old quidditch jumpers, and on her feet were a pair of fuzzy slippers that were hideous, and yet somehow entirely adorable. Everything about her in that moment, and every moment, was perfection. Hermione tilted her head at him.

“Draco?”

He blinked his eyes rapidly and let out a weak cough.

“No, this isn’t your surprise.”

She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and his heart picked up to the speed of a jackhammer pounding against his ribs.

“Oh, then what is?”

Draco stuck a shaky hand into his pocket and pulled out his wand.

“Accio present,” he whispered.

A second passed, and then through the open doorway a neatly wrapped box came zooming into his outstretched hand. He caught it without breaking eye contact with his witch, relying on seeker instincts and adrenaline.

Hermione’s eyes widened and her lips parted slightly in a frozen stare.

“What are you doing?”

Draco sucked in a gulp of air and then said in as calmly of a voice as he could muster.

“Again, love, why don’t you see for yourself.”

He took several heavy steps forward. His limbs felt like dead weight swinging around him, as all his blood was rushing towards his heart. He held the gift out to her, fingers trembling.

Hermione brushed her hand against his, taking the gift in the process. The box was black silk, tied with a simple gold ribbon. She untied the bow and opened it, gasping at what was inside.

“Is this—is this what I think it is?”

Inside the box, nestled on a velvet pillow, was a beautiful golden bracelet, adorned with five emerald bezels. Each emerald was haloed with smaller diamonds, making the entire bracelet twinkle in every direction of light. Hermione’s eyes shot to the boy’s, brown to grey. Adoration smoldered in her stare and his face broke into a blinding smile.

“Yes.”

With one simple answer, the rest of his confession poured from his lips. The same speech that he’d practiced to Theo at least ten times now.

“Hermione, from the first moment I saw you, I knew we were meant to be together. I spent years wishing that I’d get the chance to be yours, and now that I have it, all I want to do is show you how much I can love you, and prove to you that you made the right choice by choosing me.”

Draco’s eyes softened as he watched hers fill with happy tears.

“You are the most brilliant and beautiful person I have ever met, the brightest star in my entire galaxy. I don’t know how I got so damn lucky that my soul belongs to you, but it does, and I wanted to give you this gift to serve as a reminder of my dedication to you, for now and forever.”

“Forever?” Her voice was low, lined both with trepidation and hope.

“Forever,” he confirmed. “Nothing would make me happier than if you agreed to enter this courtship with me.”

“Oh Draco, of course!”

She bounded forward into his arms in a fit of tear-filled laughter. He spun her around joyously and then pulled back and fumbled with excited fingers to fit the bracelet to her wrist.

“This bracelet is a Black family heirloom. Once worn, it is only visible to those who have been charmed to see it.”

Hermione nodded, beaming down at her new treasure.

“It’s also imbued with protection charms, and father added a locator spell so that we can always find you, especially if you’re in danger.”

“I love it. I love you.”

Draco’s elation soared even higher. Although he’d heard her speak the words a hundred times, he still found himself in disbelief that someone like her could love him.

“And I love you.”

She stepped closer back into their embrace, tangling her limbs with his in a fervent kiss, and Draco swore it was the best moment of his life.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The next morning, Hermione pranced into the dining room, a smile still stuck on her face. Theo, who was already seated and making his way through a bowl of porridge, barely spared her a glance.

“Good morning Theo,” she all but sang. The boy grumbled.

“Who are you and what have you done with Granger?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he swallowed and then cleared his throat, “that you hate mornings. Most days you walk in here half asleep and don’t speak until you’ve had two cups of tea. So, I reiterate, what has gotten into you?”

Finally, Theo lifted his gaze from his now empty bowl to appraise her, and when he did his jaw dropped open.

“Holy mother of Merlin.”

His eyes narrowed in on the sparkling bracelet and Hermione held back a grin.

“Is there a problem, Theo?”

The boy blinked furiously a few times.

“Yes, there is a problem. It appears my best friends are now betrothed, and your absolute knob of a soulmate didn’t have the wherewithal to tell me he was asking last night.”

He stood up suddenly, a devious smirk quickly replacing his look of shock.

“Don’t worry though, darling, I will rectify the situation immediately.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, but he merely blew her a kiss in response.

“Don’t hurt him.”

“Yeah, no promises there.”

Theo moved to leave the room but paused before his exit.

“I’ve always wanted a sister, you know.”

“And now you have one.”

“Oh, I’ve had one for a while now, this just made it official.”

Theo winked at her, and with a final glance, he strode out of the room.

 

Hermione was already done with her breakfast by the time Theo reappeared, dragging a haggard but smiling Draco alongside him.

“Any injuries?” Hermione peeked her eyes above the Daily Prophet that she was now reading.

“No, the blighter’s so bloody happy that I can barely get a rise out of him. Pity, really, he normally hates when I jump on his bed.”

Draco, entirely ignoring Theo’s heckling, settled down beside the witch and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek.

“Good morning, love,” his greeting was accompanied by a goofy grin and Hermione giggled. The love she felt for him almost made her feel lightheaded.

It was ridiculous, really, how far and how quickly he’d infiltrated her heart. It was inevitable, she supposed, how well they fit together, but she was amazed by it, nonetheless.

If it were up to her, she’d spend every waking second with Draco. His presence in general made her feel calmer, safe, and a nervous twinge in the back of her mind reminded her that she was only a few measly days away from their longest separation to date. Would the distance drive a wedge between them? Would he realize how much easier it could be for him to love someone else, someone without the burden of secrets? No. She shoved back the insecurity and instead gazed into the mercury pools that stared back at her. The love she saw pour out of them washed away her fears. This was Draco, her Draco. She leaned closer, resting her head onto his shoulder, and the satisfaction of physical connection oozed warm and thick through her blood.

“What are you boys up to today?”

She blinked up at him, smiling.

“I’m actually headed out for the day,” Theo announced from the other side of the table.

“Going to St. Mungos.”

Hermione’s eyes shifted to him.

“Do you want Draco to go with you? Or we can both go? I have a bit of disguising potion left.”

She didn’t ask him why he was going, she didn’t have to, the poorly concealed sadness that outlined his features was a dead giveaway.

“Uh, no, I should probably go alone.” He shifted his weight uncomfortably from foot to foot, she wondered if he wanted to say more, but he held back.

“I’ll be back for dinner. You kids have fun.”

He flashed them a grin that didn’t meet his eyes, and then turned to go.

The pair listened to his footsteps echo until they were out of range before either spoke again. It was Draco who broke the quiet.

“He’s stubborn. I volunteered to go for twenty minutes, but he refused. Doesn’t want to be vulnerable, or something. I get it, I do, but I hate that he goes alone.”

“Maybe you could just pop in?”

Draco chuckled drily.

“Ah, yes, jumping in for a rescue without being prompted? Your gold and red are showing, love.”

She shoved at his shoulder with a laugh.

“It’s not that bad of an idea!”

“Maybe if he was a Gryffindor,” Draco replied, “but snakes don’t like being saved.”

“So, you’re saying that you wouldn’t want me there, if it were you in this situation?”

“No, I’d definitely want you there. I always want you with me.”

“So, a snake can change his skin?” She raised a brow, tauntingly.

“Not all snakes,” he contended. “But you? You’ve changed everything for me.”

Draco smiled, nuzzling down so that his cheek rested on the top of her head.

Again, the pair lapsed into silence, one filled with the gentle promise that neither would be alone again.

Chapter 25

“Get up.”

Hermione tried to blink away the disorienting pain that radiated through her body, but she could not.

“Miss Granger. Get. Up.”

“I can’t.” Her groaned response did little to stop her teacher’s demands.

“Do you think a dark wizard is going to give you time to stand back up in a duel? Do you think they won’t merely Avada you on the spot? Pain is irrelevant against the threat of death. Now get up.”

Hermione stumbled into a standing position, wand pointed forward. She casted a shielding charm and winced at the jolt of his defensive spells flying against it. Somehow, despite her exhaustion, the shield held.

“Fighting is more than defense, Hermione. Plan your attack. Execute it.”

The Gryffindor took a shallow inhale through her nose, taking notice of the sharp ache that throbbed in her left shoulder. She ignored it, instead focusing her thoughts on the task at hand. Her shield was barely holding, she had maybe 30 seconds to shift her strategy. She evaluated the way Snape was standing before her, left leg slightly more forward than his right, right arm raised. He would be expecting a stupefy, maybe even an expelliarmus, but there was one thing to do that he may not have considered. She counted in her head to ten, waited until her shield was only a thin film of protection, and then pulled back and aimed her wand.

“Cadereus!”

Snape was set to deflect a spell aimed at his chest, what he did not expect, however, was the beam of yellow light that shot at his right foot. The spell knocked his leg backwards and had him stumbling towards the ground.

“Expelliarmus!”

In his fall, there was little he could do but watch his wand fly towards the girl’s hand.

Impressive little lion.

Hermione stood on the opposite side of the room, both wands in hand, breathing heavily.

She did not smile, in fact, only the slightest hint of pride gleamed in her brown eyes.

“Again.”

“Granger, maybe you should take a break.”

It was Theo who offered the tentative suggestion. He and Draco sat watching the duel from two chairs in the corner of the room. Snape glanced at the pair, guessing by his godson’s body language that Theo had just had to physically restrain him from jumping in to defend the girl. As if she needed it.

“No. I need to practice.” Hermione sounded tired, more than tired, really, but she remained steadfast in her argument.

“How about you let one of us have a go, and then you can try again after that?”

It was Draco’s suggestion of a compromise that finally broke her.

“Yes, well, I suppose that’s fine.”

Theo jumped at the opportunity.

“I’ll go!”

Hermione took the empty seat and rested her head on Draco’s shoulder. He brushed his fingers across her cheek lovingly. Severus looked away, unable to entirely squash the tinge of nostalgic sadness that bloomed in his chest. He turned to the new opponent.

“Try not to get yourself theoretically killed this time, Mr. Nott.”

“I’ll do my best,” he supplied evenly, lifting his wand.

Snape continued to duel the three in turn late into the afternoon, only pausing to provide minor healing charms on wounds that Narcissa would be sure to fret about over dinner. The children were improving vastly, although Snape would not feed their tender egos with such truths. All of them had quickly developed their own strengths, Hermione was clever, Draco quick, and Theo aggressive. Together, as it stood, the trio would’ve been well matched against even the strongest of death eaters. Severus nearly shuddered at the thought. Fifteen-year-olds dueling adults, risking their lives for a war that was started decades before them. Disgusting. But he knew better than to let his thoughts linger on things he could not control, so he focused on what he could. He forged ahead, pushing them to work harder, and think faster, hoping that somehow his efforts would pay off, and that someday all the teens before him would see adulthood. The odds were slim, but he let the hope of it take root in his rocky heart anyway. Failure was not an option.

+++

The remaining days at the manor passed quickly for Hermione. Between the lessons and the dueling and the heated snogging sessions with Draco in hidden corners of the library, time was moving much faster than she’d like. On the morning of her last day, Hermione awoke with the sun, her heart already feeling like a rock sinking to the bottom of the black lake.

An abrupt knock at the door pulled her from her wallowing. She clamored out of bed. 

“I’m coming, Poppy.”

She was confused, however, when she found Theo leaning against the doorframe.

“Theo?”

“Good morning, Granger darling.” His smile was downright gleeful. 

“What are you doing here?”

“Giving you your present of course!” 

Hermione tilted her head at him. 

“Present?”

“Yes! Your going-away gift.”

“A going-away gift is entirely unnecessary.” 

At this, he scoffed. 

“Fine, then consider it a gift to celebrate your betrothal. Regardless of your choice of celebration, you will be receiving this gift.” 

Her lack of action had the boy grabbing for her hand and pulling her forward. 

“Come along my little lion!”

“You’re not even going to let me get dressed?”

“You should’ve thought about that before you opened the door.”

“Theodore I am a lady; it is blasphemous to make me see the light of day without my proper attire.”

He barked out a laugh. 

“What an interesting time to claim womanhood. Shall I fetch Narcissa and tell her to plan your coming-of-age ball?”

“Hardy har har.” 

“You started this.”

“I disagree. You started it when you came to my door at barely seven in the morning!”

Theo sent her a smug grin.

“Ah, yes, you’re right, I both started and finished it. How very ambitious if I do say so myself.”

Hermione snorted but did not argue further, letting the boy pull her to the sitting room.

“Close your eyes.” 

“Absolutely not.” 

Theo released an exaggerated exhale. 

“You don’t trust me?” 

“After the pranks you’ve pulled? Absolutely not. I’m in a nearly public area in my pajamas, Theo, this is as far as my trust extends for the day.” 

The boy jutted his lip out in a pout. 

“Fine. Ruin the bloody surprise then.” 

He bent down to retrieve a plain brown leather brown notebook from the nearest side table and thrusted it into her hands. 

“There you go.” 

Hermione stared down at the gift, flummoxed. 

“A notebook?” She paused, internally chastising herself for her potential rudeness.  “I mean, it’s beautiful, thank you.” 

Theo barked out a loud laugh.

“You’re a horrible liar, Granger, but never fear, it’s not a regular notebook.” 

She raised a brow and met his gaze with her own.

“Whatever do you mean?”

He smiled, stepping backwards until they were nearly a room apart. 

“Write something on the first page, tap your wand, and then wait.” 

He darted out into the hallway before she could question him further.

I wish I was sleeping.

Her words disappeared onto the page. A few seconds elapsed, and then Hermione’s eyes widened as Theo’s messy penmanship scrawled before her very eyes.

Sleeping instead of hanging out with your dearest friend on your last day? I’m hurt, Granger. 

“Theo!” 

The boy was already back in the room by the time she yelled, holding up a notebook of matching style and consistency. 

“Two-way journals?”

“Two-way journals,” he confirmed with a smirk. “I had Lucius help me make them, took for-bloody-ever, but it was worth it.”

She bounded forward and into her friend’s arms. 

“You are brilliant!” 

He laughed, squeezing her tightly once before stepping back.

“Coming from you that means a lot. Technically speaking, they’re three-way journals, I had one made for Draco too. If you tap your wand once it goes to just me, tap twice it goes to just Draco, and tap thrice and it will go to both of us.” 

Her smile stretched even wider over her perfectly straight teeth. 

“This is amazing.”

His eyes softened slightly.

“We never wanted you to feel alone.”

The tears that collected in the corners of her eyes were unexpected and she brushed them away quickly. 

“You know, for how big of a git you are, you really are a terribly sentimental thing.”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Blame Draco.” 

Her laugh was light and airy as she tucked her notebook into her arm. 

“Speaking of Draco, where is he?”

“Somewhere trying to find you, probably. He always is.”

 

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“I don’t want to go,” Hermione whispered to Draco, trying hard to keep her voice from shaking. She was expected at the Weasley’s by dinner but had been dragging her feet about leaving for the past hour. Her trunk, packed and ready, sat waiting by the entry to the fireplace. All she needed to do was grab a handful of powder, but she just hadn’t gotten that far.

“I can’t leave you here knowing that he’s back, that you won’t be safe.” 

Draco appraised her with a gentle expression, wrapping her in his arms as she tucked her head against his chest.

“How many times must I tell you, don’t worry about me,” he murmured. 

“Father said they don’t suspect anything, and we’ve been working on occulmency with mother all summer. We’ll be safe.” 

She tried to hold her desperation inside of her, but she was in a losing fight to the tears. 

“I’ll miss you,” she choked out. 

“I know, love, I’ll miss you too,” he spoke quietly, soothingly. 

“But it’s only a month until school starts, it will be here before we know it.” 

She bit her lip and looked up at him, his steel gaze burning into hers. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, “even when you’re crying.” 

“Now is not the time for flirting Draco,” she teased weakly, and he smiled. 

“There’s no time like the present, Granger.”

She took a deep breath and tried to find composure. After a moment she spoke again. 

“I need to go.” 

He nodded. “Yes, you do.” 

She took a step back from him and shook out her shoulders, bracing herself for what came next. 

“If you need anything, use your notebook, and if there’s an emergency, come here. You’re able to pass through our wards freely using the floo. We’ll explain our way out of it later.” 

Hermione stared at the boy before her, her eyes trying to memorize every part of him, as if she could absorb him into her mind. 

“I love you.” 

Draco sucked in a breath. 

“I love you too, Hermione, more than you’ll ever know.” His eyes shimmered when he said it, like his body couldn’t contain the love beneath the surface. With that last image of Draco burning in her eyes she stepped into the fireplace. 

“The Burrow.” 

And Draco watched the girl he loved disappear in a rush of green flames. 

 

She tumbled out into the kitchen of the Weasley family and brushed the ash from her shoulders. No matter how long she’d been in the Wizarding world she still couldn’t master flooing gracefully.

“Hermione!” Molly Weasley’s voice cheery voice rang in her ears. 

“Hi Molly, so nice to see you!” 

Hermione plastered a smile onto her face and hoped that it erased her former signs of crying.

“Lovely to have you, dear. Ron and the Twins are outside, and I think Ginny is upstairs packing.”

“Packing?”

“Oh, yes! We’ve been asked to spend the rest of the summer at an order safe house.”

Hermione’s mind reeled. If they were moving into a safe house, it meant that things were getting serious even quicker than she thought. Did Lucius and Narcissa know about this? Was Dumbledore going to warn them? Should she? Her head spun and she closed her eyes for a moment, forcing the intrusive thoughts into her locket. She shut the lid with a click. 

“Are you feeling alright dear?” 

Hermione opened her eyes and blinked at Molly. 

“I think I’m still a bit dizzy from the Floo,” she admitted. “I’ve just never quite gotten the hang of it.” 

Molly tutted in the way that a caring mother would. 

“Well then off to bed with you, the boys can wait to see you until dinner.” She ran a hand over Hermione’s curls and then turned with a shout.

“Ginevra! Come down here and help Hermione with her trunk!” 

A moment passed before pounding footsteps echoed on the stairs. 

“‘Mione!” Ginny called, looking down from the second-floor landing with a dimpled grin. 

“Gin!” Hermione wore a matching smile, and the two girls ran towards each other, meeting halfway in a tackling embrace. 

“Come on then, I’ll help you with your trunk.” Hermione nodded at Ginny’s offer. Both girls grabbed an end and began to lug it upwards. At times like this, it was hard not to scowl at the underage magic rules. 

“What did you pack in here? Rocks?” Ginny joked. Hermione forced out a laugh, the weight of her secrets feeling especially heavy.

 

A few hours later, the girls were settled into their room for the night. Dinner had been delicious, it usually was if Molly Weasley was involved, but as Hermione ate her roast and mash, she couldn’t help but wish it was Poppy’s pot pie instead. If she already felt homesick for the Manor now, she wasn’t sure how she was going to survive another four weeks. After dinner, Molly had given each of the children a slip of paper and told them to memorize it. 

By morning, they would be at the order safe house. 

Hermione’s mind was alight with anxious thoughts and what-ifs. Again, she found herself relying on the occulmency she had perfected with Narcissa to tuck away the negative thoughts. At some point she would have to deal with them, she was sure, but she would much prefer to tackle that challenge with Draco by her side.

+++

“So how has your summer been, ‘Mione?” 

Ginny asked idly from the adjacent bed, pulling Hermione into the present. She was looking away towards the wardrobe mirror, her nimble fingers twisting her hair into an intricate braid. 

“Good so far, how has yours been?” 

She didn’t answer right away, and when Hermione turned to look at the girl, she saw a determined set to her jaw. 

“Gin?” 

Ginny turned to her fully, and the look in her blue eyes made the breath catch in Hermione’s throat.

“You weren’t with your parents this summer, were you?” 

She froze. Ginny nudged the bedroom door shut with her foot and then turned back to her. 

“Ginny, I—“

“Just tell me the truth, Hermione, who were you with?”

Hermione weighed her options. She could give her best shot at lying, but she was fairly sure that Ginny wouldn’t buy it. She could try to explain her way out of being with the Malfoys, but even that half-truth wouldn’t feel believable enough. With a final sigh, she realized that the truth was the only viable response. 

“I was with the Malfoys.” 

She tensed her body, unsure of just how explosive the red head’s response would be. She expected a lot of things, what she did not anticipate however was the beaming smile that blossomed across Ginny’s face. 

“Finally! I’ve been waiting for you to tell me.”

“Wait what?” Hermione’s jaw hung open as Ginny took three leaping steps across the room and swept her into a hug. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” 

Ginny laughed and pulled away a bit so that she could stare the brunette in the face. 

“I feel great, loads better now that I know my best friend isn’t hiding a monumental secret from me.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Hermione began to apologize. “I wanted to tell you so many times, but it just kept getting more dangerous, and—wait, how did you know I was with Draco?”

Ginny smiled mischievously. 

“I wanted to try out the postal service that we had learned about in muggle studies and sending you a letter to your parents’ house seemed like a perfect opportunity. You should’ve seen me at the post office, Hermione, I’m sure everyone there thought I was mental.” 

The girls grinned at each other for a moment, but Ginny continued. 

“I thought I did everything right, but I received my letter back a few days later, with a note from your parents. They told me that you were staying at Malfoy Manor for the holiday and that if I needed to get a hold of you before then to use my owl.” 

Hermione’s face scrunched in confusion.

“But my parents have been on holiday in France all summer, how did they get your letter?” 

“Oh, I didn’t send the letter this summer, I sent it over Easter.” 

Hermione’s eyes widened at Ginny’s smug grin. 

“You’ve known for months?” 

She nodded. 

“I thought maybe you would tell me on your own, I’ve been dropping hints like mad all spring.”

Realization dawned on Hermione as all of Ginny’s comments throughout the past months clicked into place. 

“Ginny, I know this must all seem confusing, and I wish I could’ve said something sooner, but Draco and his parents, they’re not what everyone thinks they are. I trust them with my life.”

Ginny gave her an exasperated look. 

“Come on ‘Mione, I know they aren’t bad. If I thought they were the cruel dark gits that the world makes them out to be do you really think I would’ve kept my mouth shut about your decisions for this long?” 

Again, Hermione was at a loss for words, so the youngest Weasley continued her explanation. 

“At the end of my first year, after I opened the Chamber, I woke up in the hospital wing. I had cards from everyone I expected, but at the foot of my bed I also found a package full of galleons and pumpkin pasties. Enough money to pay for all of my books and robes for the rest of Hogwarts, mind you. The gift came with an apology note too, but no signature. The note explained that the diary was never supposed to go to me. It was supposed to end up in the hands of my dad, who would’ve recognized it as dark magic and turned it in to the ministry. I thought it was strange at first, that the person who gave me the diary was contrite enough to want to profusely apologize, but I decided that their reasons were their own. I didn’t tell anyone about it.” 

Hermione let out a breath, but Ginny held her voice steady and kept going. 

“I was only eleven, but I had my suspicions. And after that year, any time I saw any of the Malfoys, things just felt different. Draco didn’t bother me in school, and every time he did say something there was hesitation, like the enjoyment that was supposed to come out of bullying wasn’t real for him. And then, before the World Cup, you and Ron and Harry were out somewhere, and I decided to do a bit of wandering around myself. I spotted all three of the Malfoy’s. There were people around, we didn’t really interact, but at one point Lucius brushed past me. When I got back to the tent, I found a pumpkin pastie and a galleon in the pocket of my robes, and I knew what it meant. Later when we all sat in the box together, I watched the Malfoy family very closely. They sneered and jibed at my family, sure, but only when they had to for appearances. When no one else was paying attention to them, you could see the exhaustion in their eyes.” 

Each heartbeat sent hurt into Hermione’s core as she mourned the sacrifices the Malfoy family had had to make. 

“And then there was Draco. He watched you through that entire Cup match, even during the Veela’s. The way he looked at you…it was just pure longing. I felt bad for him, honestly, even if I still thought he was a prat.” 

“We weren’t together then,” Hermione blurted out. 

“Is that your way of confirming to me that you are, in fact, together now?” Ginny waggled her eyebrows and Hermione felt the blush rise to her cheeks. 

“Yes,” she admitted, “Draco and I are together.” 

Ginny squealed. 

“You lucky blighter! Have you seen that boy? I don’t thank the pureblooded prats he calls ancestors for much, but I can thank them for the years of snotty first-class breeding that created him.” 

“Geeze Gin, should I be worried about you stealing him away from me?” Hermione teased and Ginny shot her a look. 

“Although I know I’m quite the catch and Malfoy would be lucky to have me.” Ginny was cut off by a scoff from Hermione and she winked. “I continue to have an unfortunate yet undying preference for a certain chosen one, even if Merlin knows he’ll never reciprocate.”

A forlorn look briefly flickered across the red head’s features.

“Harry can be an idiot sometimes, but he’ll come around,” Hermione said in an effort to placate her. 

Ginny shook her head slightly. 

“Enough about me. We are not done with our initial conversation.” 

Ginny turned back to the girl beside her. 

“I understand why you felt like you couldn’t tell me about this, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less that you kept a secret.” 

Hermione’s shoulders slumped in shame. 

“I know, Ginny, I am so sorry.” 

“I forgive you, as long as you promise to stop hiding things from me. I know there are things you may not be able to say, I can accept that, but anything that is safe for me to know you best well tell me.” 

Hermione nodded once firmly. 

“I also want you know that I haven’t told anyone about this. Not about you or them or anything, and I plan to keep it that way. Your secrets are safe with me, always.”

Tears welled in the corners of Hermione’s eyes. 

“Oh Gin, thank you so much, I know how hard it can be to keep something from the people you love.” 

“Remember that when you’re picking your maid of honor for the wedding someday, yeah?” 

The girls smiled at each other through unshed tears. 

“Well I would surely hope it’d be you, I highly doubt Theo would look good in a dress.” 

“Theo? As in Theodore Nott?”

Hermione didn’t miss the way that Ginny’s eyes flashed. 

“You have so much to tell me.” 

And the girls proceeded to sit side by side late into that night as Hermione told her of all that had happened in the past year. With each passing story, she felt a weight lifting off of her shoulders, finding hope in the fact that whatever was coming, she would not have to face it alone.

Chapter 26

Notes:

Hi all,
Thanks so much to everyone who has read/liked/commented so far. This is my first time writing anything like this, or letting anyone read something I've written in general, so I'm super appreciative of anyone who is joining along!

Draco, 

I miss you horribly. It’s been barely one week, and this bloody house has tried to kill me twice. First, all the bedrooms are spelled to lock out unwelcome guests, how charming, and then I had a near fatal encounter with a sewing needle that was enchanted to poison muggleborns into a never-ending slumber. I thought this shite only happened in fairy tales. 

To top it off, Harry arrived this morning angrier than ever. He’s irate that we didn’t respond to his letters, but we were given explicit instruction not to! He refuses to accept the logic of the situation which makes him nearly impossible to speak to. 

The one highlight of my stay so far is that Sirius and Remus have taken a heightened interest in my well-being. Considering Sirius is the only person who can see my bracelet, and the pair of them also seemed to already know of everything, it has made things feel a bit better. I’m surprised I hadn’t seen them around the manor, but I’m sure they’re all just trying to be as discreet as possible. He did say that he could sneak me away for a floo call to you one night soon, if you’re up for it that is. I figure seeing your face in a fireplace is better than nothing at all. 

Have I mentioned that I miss you? 

Yours, 

H

 

Hermione, 

It sounds to me that the term safe house is an oxymoron of sorts. If you keep telling me of these ill-timed attempts from my long dead ancestors to murder you, I’ll have to beg mother to let you come back here where I can keep you safe myself. It’s a foolish impulse, of course, but that seems to be what you’ve made of me. A sodding heap of worry and love and wanting. Blegh. Emotions. Your Gryffindor heart bled all over me and I don’t even have it in me to be upset about it. 

I’m sorry that Harry is being a git, although you do know that I’m not surprised by his behavior. Theo has also been a pill lately, even more so than usual. If I had to wager a guess, I’d say it’s because he misses you. He’d never admit that though, you can’t penetrate snake scales as thick as his. Regardless of his act, I think we both agree that the manor feels empty without you. 

I’m glad that Sirius and Professor Lupin are there for you, and selfishly, I’m happy that they know about your bracelet. If it were up to me, I’d shout our news from the rooftops of Diagon Alley, but current circumstances warrant far more couth than I want to give.  Two more people knowing is a small victory that I’ll take in stride. 

I’d love a floo call when you’re able. Perhaps you’ll be able to give me some pointers on how to beat Theo at wizard’s chess. He‘s on a four game winning streak and I don’t think his inflated ego can take another win before it pops. I wish you were here to take him down a notch, he deserves it.

I miss you, and I love you always. 

-DLM 

 

Granger, 

I don’t know how you bloody did it, but even when you’re miles away you manage to finagle a way to beat me vicariously at chess. I’d say it’s unbelievable, but that doesn’t give you the credit that I begrudgingly think you deserve. 

Stop helping him, it’s cheating. 

-Theo 

 

Theodore, 

When have you ever cared about the sanctity of rules? 

 

I care when it involves me losing. I put a great stake in the things that can grant me success, call it Slytherin self-preservation. Also, I noticed that your last note neither confirmed nor denied your involvement in said loss. Care to comment? 

 

What was that phrase you taught me, plausible deniability? 

 

Granger Granger Granger, we’ll make a snake of you yet. 

 

Never. 

I’ll see you in ten days, don’t let Draco beat you too badly in the meantime.

 

If you’re involved, I unfortunately don’t seem to stand a chance. See you soon. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

“Do you think this is going to take long? I don’t want to miss the snack trolley.”

Hermione turned her head towards Ron, fighting the urge to slap her hand to her forehead.

“Ronald, this is our first prefects meeting and all you can focus on is cauldron cakes?”

“And licorice wands,” he muttered. The pair had left their friends in their usual train compartment only a few minutes ago, but the girl was already at her wits end with the redhead. For about the tenth time that day, she wished that McGonagall would’ve chosen Harry as the male prefect.

“You’re exhausting me.”

He laughed and gave a gentle shove at her shoulder.

“Oh come on, ‘Mione, I do that every day. Harry and I keep you on your toes.”

“We’re supposed to be learning how to keep other students in line, and all you care about is refreshments!”

“I don’t have to learn about discipline, you’re like a walking rule book. All I have to do is sit back and let you take charge. Easy peasy. Leaves me plenty of time for snacks.”

Hermione let out another exasperated groan but did not comment.

Upon reaching the correct carriage, they squeezed in through the glass paneled doors. Hermione’s eyes flitted through the group of students already gathered, freezing on a particular form. Feeling her gaze upon him, Draco turned around and their eyes met, both students let out matching breaths of relief. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling. Draco, who had always been a better actor, maintained a neutral facial expression, but his grey eyes sparkled.

“Ugh, why did they pick Malfoy?” Ron groaned out beside her, but she elbowed him in the ribs to silence him.

“Don’t start a fight before we’ve even begun,” she hissed, but her efforts to keep the peace were fruitless, as Pansy Parkinson had already heard him.

“Oh look, Drakey,” she pouted, “they let the mudblood in.”

Hermione barely registered the slander, too focused on the way that Pansy’s hand was rested on Draco’s chest. Her Draco. Her heart began to thump harder in her chest.

“Hey Parkinson! Don’t—“

“Pansy, stop.” Draco’s command silenced Ron mid-yell. The redhead stared at him slack jawed.

“We have a house cup to win,” Draco continued on smoothly, which only slightly appeased Pansy’s shock.

“Fine,” she huffed at last. Draco took a step away from her and glanced at Hermione, his eyes shining with apology. She shrugged her shoulder slightly.

“Looks like everyone is here, let’s get started!”

The Ravenclaw Headboy dove into explanation, quickly silencing any other conversation.

Hermione tried her best to listen, but it was nearly impossible to pay attention knowing that Draco was within reaching distance. She was itching to go to him, it felt like her magic was going to burst from her skin.

After a painstaking hour of rules and regulations, they were given permission to return to their seats. Hermione lingered in the carriage, ushering Ron to go on without her so that he didn’t miss the bloody trolley. When the group had dwindled significantly, she walked out alone, disappointed that she’d missed Draco in the rush. She was so distraught that she nearly missed the hand that reached out to pull her into an empty carriage.

“Draco,” she breathed, she knew it was him before she even spun around.

“Hi love,” he grinned back at her, before sweeping down to place his lips against hers.

“I’ve missed you,” she gasped between their kisses. “So much.”

“Every day,” he agreed.

The pair, too caught up in their passionate reunion, didn’t notice the door of their compartment crack open.

“Seriously?”

The third voice had them jumping apart.

“Theo,” Draco grumbled, turning to face the new visitor.

“How did you even find us?” Hermione asked, trying to regulate her breathing.

Theo raised an eyebrow, amused.

“I’m a Slytherin,” was all he provided as an answer before opening his arms.

“Now get away from loverboy and come here.”

Hermione ignored her boyfriend’s huff and walked forward, nearly tackling Theo in a hug.

“I missed you, you great prat,” she said.

“I’d venture to say that the feeling is mutual,” he laughed.

She faked a gasp.

“Theo! Are you finally admitting to having emotions?”

“What can I say, Granger, you bring out the softie in me.”

“Excuse me can you stop flirting with my soulmate?” Draco interjected drily from the back of the carriage.

“Never.” Theo’s cheeky grin was almost blinding. “Now I do hate to be the bearer of bad news, but others are going to begin wondering where you two have gone.” The smile slipped off of Hermione’s face.

“But I’ve only just gotten the two of you back!”

Draco stepped forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“You know he’s right. Don’t worry, we’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll even smooth talk the head girl to get all your prefect patrol shifts together,” Theo offered from beside him.

“And how are you going to manage that, Theodore?” Hermione asked.

“It’s simple, really, I’ll tell her that Draco annoyed me somehow, and as retribution, I want him to patrol with a Gryffindor. She’s a Slytherin, after all, she’ll understand my motive.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“And if that doesn’t work, I’ll just snog her into agreeing with me.” Theo waggled his eyebrows and Hermione snorted before moving to the carriage exit.

“Yeah, okay, ladies’ man.” She glanced back at Draco, wavering at the cusp of the doorway.

“Are you sure I have to go back out there?”

His lip quirked up into a smile.

“Unfortunately, my answer remains unchanged.”

“You’ll have plenty of time to make heart eyes at each other all year, I promise,” Theo cut in.

“I’ll be the best third wheel you’ve ever seen.”

“Oh! That reminds me,” Hermione spoke, ignoring her friend’s theatrics.

“Ginny. She knows about us, about, well, everything. But she’s going to keep the secret, I know it. I was going to tell you in the notebook, but it felt like something that needed to be said in person.”

Draco nodded.

“I thought she would figure it out eventually. My father hasn’t exactly been subtle in his apologies about her first year.”

“Ginevra Weasley? This just keeps getting better and better,” Theo grinned.

“Theo, play nice,” Hermione scolded, and he laughed.

"Despite my apparent reputation, Hermione, I am nothing if not a gentleman."

"No, you're nothing if not a smart ass," Draco drawled out beside him, expertly avoiding the aim of Theo’s stinging hex.

Hermione bit back a smile, her heart warming with the familiarity of their antics.

“Merlin, I’ve missed you two.”

Both turned to look at her smiling.

Chapter 27

“Hermione Jean Granger!” The voice was unmistakable, yet Hermione was still having trouble believing what she’d just heard angrily whispered from the entrance to their secret alcove. The students had been back at Hogwarts for a little over a week, and the Gryffindor was already finding it to be especially difficult to sneak away. Harry, who had still not processed his feelings of guilt and anger after what he witnessed in the cemetery, was edgy. Additionally, the school year brought a clear divide between the people who believed his story and those who did not. Ron, luckily, had proven to be a pillar of support for the boy, but she still found it harder than before to find excuses to leave their common room. In fact, outside of prefect patrol, this was the first time she’d been able to meet her Slytherins since arriving at the castle.

Draco and Theo’s heads jolted up looking towards the intruder. Hermione watched her friend march into their space.

“Yes, Ginny?” the girl asked weakly.

“You owe me, big time.”

Ginny’s eyes flitted towards the two others in the room.

“Hello Draco.”

Draco blinked at her a few times before saying, rather uncertainly, “Hello Ginny.”

She then turned to the second boy.

“Theodore,” she spoke curtly.

“Ginevra,” he answered with a smirk. “What did I tell you about those improbable certainties?”

The corner of Ginny’s mouth tugged upwards, but she forced the smile off of her face and instead turned back to Hermione, who was now eyeing the two with a curious expression.

“Back to what I was saying. You owe me.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to get yourself caught if you aren’t careful. We were leaving the quidditch pitch after our first meeting and Harry pulled out the bloody map to look for you and Ron. You’re lucky I do an excellent imitation of sudden fear of authority and told him that Mrs. Norris and Filch were on their way or else he would’ve seen exactly what you were up to.”

Hermione groaned. “That map is going to be the death of me.”

“What map?” Draco asked, his appearance shifting from shock to curiosity. Ginny assessed him for a moment, her piercing blue eyes swept over him like judgment from Merlin himself. Draco met her gaze nervously.

Seeming satisfied with whatever she saw, Ginny began to explain.

“It’s a map that Harry’s father made with his friends when they were in school. It shows where every person in Hogwarts is, every second of every day.”

“What!” Theo interjected. “There is a map that shows every single person’s whereabouts and you have never thought to bring this up? Granger!”

“Oh don’t Granger her, Nott, it’s not her map,” Ginny snapped at him. “Also, there’s this thing called keeping your friend’s secrets. Maybe you’ve heard of it? I was under the impression that you were quite aware of said concept.”

Theo’s eyebrows raised in surprise and then his face broke into a wide grin.

“Ginevra, I like you more and more.”

She rolled her eyes at him and turned back to Hermione.

“‘Mione we really do need to figure out what to do about that map, and Harry in general, really, he’s being a downright terror.”

“You’re right,” Hermione agreed. “We’ll think of something.” Ginny nodded once. She turned to leave but hesitated. The moment of hesitation was all Hermione needed to see.

“Gin, how about you stay with us and study?”

Ginny looked at the expectant stares of the trio. Hermione watched her with hope, Draco with impassivity, and Theo stared her down with a single eyebrow raised and that stupid grin on his face as if challenging her.

“Yeah, alright.” She answered Hermione but directed it right back at the dark haired Slytherin. Ginny was never one to back down from a challenge, and Theo may be her greatest one yet.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Ginny loved Saturday mornings. The castle was always quiet, and the sunlight filtered in through the upper glass windows basking the hallways in an ethereal glow. Mornings held the promise of what was to come.

That particular morning, Ginny perched in the bay of a large window near Gryffindor Tower browsing a book about the Holyhead Harpies. She hadn’t seen any other students yet, so when she heard the telltale sounds of footsteps approaching, she figured it was just an early wanderer on their way to breakfast. The footsteps, however, had a strange gait as they echoed across the cavernous floors, almost as if they were running? But who would be running at such an hour? Her interest only grew, as the owner of said footsteps came barreling around the corner.

“Theodore?”

Theo yelped, whipping his head towards her. His features relaxed with recognition, and he skidded to a stop.

“Ginevra! My Gods am I happy to see you. I need a favor.”

“Well good morning to you too,” she spoke wryly.

“Sorry, hi good morning love, beautiful weather we’re having. Now that favor?”

She snorted, closing her book in the process.

“What do you need, Theodore?”

“I need you to hide me by any means necessary. I don’t have time to explain but I’ll tell you when it’s over. Please?”

Ginny, hearing the far-off sound of another person walking their way, stretched out her arms and pulled out her wand.

“Alright, stand very still against the wall.”

Theo nodded, and with a swish of her wand and a murmured incantation, a suit of armor began to knit itself around Theo’s body, fully encasing him in a shiny metal until he looked no different than any other statue that decorated the halls. Ginny had only just settled back into her seat on the windowsill when a very angry Marcus Flint came stomping around the corner.

“Weasley,” he growled in greeting. When she peered out at him, she had to hold back a laugh, seeing that his hair had been dyed a vibrant purple. He resembled an angry eggplant.

“Flint,” she managed to choke out.

“Nott. Have you seen him?”

“Can’t say that I have.”

“Figures. Well, if you do, tell him I’m looking for him.”

“Got it.”

He turned down another hallway without a goodbye. She waited several minutes and then pulled out her wand again, waving it in the opposite direction as before. Quickly, the metal began to dissipate, leaving a grinning Theo in its wake.

“Ginevra, you brilliant witch.”

“Explain yourself Theodore,” she said with a smirk.

“I’m the Slytherin House resident prankster,” he said as means of an explanation.

“It’s all in good fun, most of the time. Flint just doesn’t know how to take a joke.”

“And that purple wasn’t the effect of an ordinary muggle box dye I take it?”

Theo’s smile grew even wider.

“I can neither confirm nor deny that it is the result of a color changing spell that I’ve been perfecting for weeks.”

“Is it permanent?” Ginny arched a brow.

“Nah, it’ll wear off within 3 days. But he doesn’t know that.”

“And why couldn’t you just hide yourself?”

“Dropped my wand after completing the spell,” he admitted. “Got a bit jumbled up when I took off running from the quidditch locker room. The bloke’s really a lot bigger than I originally anticipated. Should’ve gone after our seeker instead of the beater.”

At this, Ginny barked out a laugh and Theo joined her. Eventually, once the pair had quieted down, he leaned against the wall and looked up at her.

“So, what are your plans today?”

“Mostly this.” She gestured to her window and book. “Why?”

“We’re going to the study spot later, you should join.”

“Wow, an invitation from the resident prankster himself? I should be so honored.”

Theo rolled his eyes.

“Oh come on, Ginevra, you know you want to. If you’re lucky I’ll even let you help me brainstorm some new ideas to prank my fellow Slytherins.”

“And why would I want to help you do that, hmm?”

He shot her an amused look.

“Because I know that most of Slytherin house annoys you nearly as much as they annoy me.”

She didn’t have it in her to feign indifference, and she smiled slightly.

“Alright you got me there. What time?”

“2?”

“See you then.”

He nodded and pushed off the wall, calling over his shoulder as he left,

“Ginevra, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”

Ginny shook her head good-naturedly.

“I don’t know, Nott, I still kind of think you’re a dolt.”

He laughed in full, and the sound reverberated deep in her chest.

“I’ll grow on you, promise.”

Somehow, Ginny found herself hoping that he was both wrong and right.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

Weeks passed and Ginny was spending more and more time with the unlikely trio. It was an uncharacteristically cold fall this year, and despite her inclinations to want to be on the quidditch pitch, she spent many of her evenings holed up in the back corner of the library instead. Tonight, the group was seated in a reserved studying room. The room had been Theo’s idea, but the fake names associated with the reservations had been all hers. It turned out that they were quite good at crafting ideas together, well, when she wasn’t preoccupied with wanting to shake her head at his ridiculous antics, anyway.

Ginny watched Draco spin Hermione in circles around the empty classroom floor, an orchestra gently playing from the tip of his wand. She didn’t really know how they’d started dancing, or why, even, but it didn’t seem to matter. The way they looked at each other made a very clear statement. In that moment, it was just them.

“Feels like watching a fairytale come to life, eh?” Theo drawled from beside the girl. Ginny angled her head sideways at him.

“Are they always like this?”

“What? Downright insufferable? Yes.”

Ginny bit back a laugh, instead choosing to shove at Theo’s shoulder. She hated to admit it, but she’d begun to accept the wizard’s presence in her life. When she wasn’t careful, she might dare say that she even enjoyed it.

“No, you git, I meant the way they look at each other, like they’re the only two people in the world.”

“Oh, that,” Theo rubbed his chin contemplation. “Yeah, it’s pretty much always like that.” The pair was quiet.

“It’s nice,” Ginny said at last, “that Hermione’s found it.”

“Found what exactly?” He arched a dark brow at her. The boy beside her was devilishly handsome, not that she would ever stroke his ego and tell him that. Hair the color of espresso, thick and waved to perfection, with eyes that glinted with mischief, not to mention the dazzling white smile and chiseled jaw. He was the result of centuries of carefully selected pureblood lineage, and she knew she had no real place playing with such pretty things.

“She’s found her person that she can’t live without,” Ginny clarified. “You know, her one person. Everyone has one.”

Theo rolled his eyes.

“I wouldn’t say everyone.”

“Come on, Theodore, everyone,” Ginny argued back. “It doesn’t have to be romantic.”

“Oh really, then who is yours?”

She mulled over the question for only a moment.

“My brother, Charlie, probably,” she admitted. “It’s hard to be the youngest Weasley, and the only girl, sometimes it feels like nothing I have is just mine. But growing up, Charlie always went out of his way to make sure I felt noticed, important.” She glanced down at her shoes.

“He treated me like I was more than just a tag-a-long kid, and he’s my favorite brother because of it. But if you tell the others I’ll have to kill you.”

The corner of Theo’s lip quirked upward in the ghost of a wistful smile.

“Your secret is safe with me.”

“It better be. So, who’s your person?”

Theo was quiet for a minute, and then two.

“As a Slytherin, we’re taught to be self-sufficient,” he said at last. “As a Nott, I— well, let’s just say that as a Nott, I learned how to be alone.”

Ginny sat in silence, thoughtful, letting the unasked and unanswered questions linger between them. They were rarely this serious with one another, and she relished in it a moment longer.

“I’m not saying that you need a person to survive.” Her words were quiet. “I know you can do it all on your own, I just don’t think you should have to.” Another pause, and then.

“A life alone is a life half lived.”

Theo did not respond aside from a quick intake of breath, but Ginny didn’t expect him to. Instead, she scooted closer to him, eventually resting her head platonically on his shoulder.

“But you’re not alone, Theodore, not anymore. You have us.”

The pair sat like that for some time, watching Draco and Hermione dance and laugh, and for a moment, it felt like just the two of them.

Chapter 28

There were a lot of things Hermione loved about the wizarding world, but quidditch was not one of them. Despite her friends’ enthusiasm, the girl had absolutely no desire to hover hundreds of feet in the air while dodging enchanted balls. Flying was for the dragons, thank you very much.

Her apparent lack of interest in the activity, however, by no means gave her a pass from skipping quidditch games. Not one. And that was how she found herself wedged in the midst of masses of other students in the stands. It was the first game of the season, Slytherin vs Ravenclaw, and Hermione would be watching the entirety of the match whether she wanted to or not.

“Oh come ‘Mione, at least try to look like you’re having fun.”

Hermione, not amused in the slightest by her friend’s teasing, turned to look at her.

“You’re not even playing, Ginny! Why do I have to be here?”

Ginny’s head swiveled about. Once she ensured that no one was listening, she turned back.

“Because I have specific orders to keep your bum planted in that seat and your nose out of a book.”

“And since when did you follow orders?”

Ginny smirked.

“When said orders give me a partner to watch all the games with, obviously.”

Hermione didn’t respond, pretending to be too entranced in watching the warmups. Naturally, her focus drifted to Draco. Sensing her eyes on him, he turned to her, smiling slightly.

“Hey Hermione!”

The girl’s attention switched to another boy now flying in front of her, this one wearing blue.

“Um hello Terry.”

“What’s say I win this game and then I take you to Hogsmeade next weekend?”

Terry Boot was also a fifth year, and a Ravenclaw prefect. Hermione had patrolled with him a few times, the most recent being last week. He was kind, clearly intelligent, and easy to talk to, but he wasn’t Draco. The wizard flew a bit closer, close enough that she could see the deep blue of his irises. Terry was handsome, and in another life, maybe Hermione would’ve appreciated, even sought out his attention. But this was not another life. Hermione didn’t answer him immediately, instead she glanced higher in the sky. Draco’s grey eyes were focused on the back of Boot’s head, looking downright murderous. Luckily, Theo had the wherewithal to fly over to him and begin speaking quietly in his ear.

“Hey Boot, how about you learn to fly before you try asking people out on dates during matches!”

It was Ginny who came to Hermione’s rescue. Leaning forward over the railing so that the boy heard her loud and clear.

“She’s my date to Hogsmeade next weekend, anyway!”

“Maybe she wants an alternative option.” Terry spoke with an easy smile.

“I think not! I’m a way better snog than you are, and you know it!”

Terry threw back his head and laughed in full.

“You are something else, Weasley. And for the record, I don’t know how good of a snog you are, but I’d be interested in finding out.”

“Oi! Don’t flirt with my sister!” Ron roared from the row above them. Terry shrugged his shoulders.

“She started it.”

He looked back to the girls.

“See you ladies around.”

Ginny rolled her eyes, and he winked before flying back to meet his team.

“Don’t worry about him,” Ginny insisted quietly. “He’s a total flirt. He’ll leave us alone within the week.”

“It’s not him I’m worried about.”

Hermione’s sight went back to Draco, who had now flown away from Theo and was doing fast laps high around the other players.

“Well let’s hope he channels his jealousy into a win?”

Hermione’s head spins to Ginny, her eyes wide in shock.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley, did you just hope for a Slytherin win?” She whispered.

“Only kind of. If Slytherin beats Ravenclaw then we only have to beat Slytherin to take home the cup. Hufflepuff is barely a contest, and we will be kicking those scaly green arses, so, yes, I suppose I am rooting for them. Just today.”

Hermione’s echoing laugh garnered attention from Harry and Ron who looked down at her.

“‘Mione, you sure you’re feeling alright?” Harry joked. “I’ve never seen you enjoy anything to do with quidditch.”

“Yeah,” Ron joined in, “did you hit your head on the way up here? I would’ve thought you’d hex Boot off his broom for talking to you like that.”

Hermione stuck her tongue out at the boys.

Hearing a whistle, the students turned their heads to the field.

 

The game was intense. Slytherin’s chasers were well matched against Ravenclaw’s keeper, and the rest of the Ravenclaw team could barely fly to the scoring end of the pitch without dodging the bludgers hit by the beaters in green. Above it all, Draco, and the Ravenclaw seeker, Cho Chang, flew lazy circles, searching for the ever-elusive snitch. “Draco better hurry up and find the damn thing,” Ginny murmured to Hermione, her well trained eyes never leaving the action.

“His beaters are already getting tired and sloppy. One misplaced hit and it will be a downed chaser on their side.”

No sooner than the words left her mouth, Marcus Flint swung too softly at a bludger, sending it hurdling into the other Slytherin beater instead of away into the skies.

“Oof.”

The crowd simultaneously groaned, watching the Slytherin boy slump off his broom. Madam Hooch casted a spell to prevent further damage when he tumbled from the air onto the ground below.

Draco swooped down into the grass where the boy lay, picking up the bat that he weakly held out to him.

“What’s Malfoy doing?” Someone asked.

“He’s playing both positions,” Ginny answered. Heads turned to her.

“What do you mean? He can’t do that,” Ron argued.

“You can’t watch for three balls at once.”

Ginny shrugged but did not respond. Attention again turned back to the pitch.

Hermione’s eyes homed in on her betrothed. She didn’t know much about quidditch, but she did know a lot about Draco, and as he scanned the field, she had a prickling suspicion that the bat in his hand was not going to be used nicely. She watched his face light up at his opportunity. A bludger zoomed towards him, and with a loud crack he sent the ball flying directly at the broomstick of an unsuspecting Terry Boot. The bludger crashed into his broom and Terry went spiraling down to the bottom of the pitch.

“Hey! That’s targeting! He doesn’t even score!” Another Ravenclaw team member cried out, but Draco merely smirked.

“Sorry, Corner, just evening out the playing field.” His mission now accomplished, he let the bat fall, and resumed his search for the snitch.

Since the move brought both teams down to one beater, most people didn’t bat an eye at Draco’s actions. Fair was a relative concept in quidditch, but Hermione knew better. Apparently, so did Ginny.

“Look at that face,” Ginny nearly laughed. “What a smug bastard.”

She was right. After the hit, Draco’s expression had morphed from petulance to smugness. Hermione didn’t have time to examine it further, though, as his eyes must have caught a glimpse of gold dancing in the light. Suddenly, the race was on between Draco and Cho. She was smaller, slightly built and could easily weave through the game, but Draco’s larger body gave him the extra speed. In a final reach, his long fingers stretched out, grasping the snitch as his broom skimmed across the ground. He tucked the snitch into his chest and then tumbled. Draco lay for a moment in a heap, and then, without looking up, he raised the caught snitch in his right hand. Madam Hooch blew the whistle.

“Slytherin wins!”

The emerald wave of students erupted in cheers and the Ravenclaws groaned. Theo was first to make it to the ground, leaning close to Draco to inspect his injuries.

Hermione’s lungs seized in fear when Theo looked up in a panic.

“Help!”

Snape and Madam Hooch arrived quickly. Ginny shoved a pair of binoculars into Hermione’s hands. When she turned to her in confusion Ginny merely shook her head and then pointed down. Hermione pressed the binoculars to her eyes and looked to the field, her entire frame freezing when she saw the blood. Draco’s face was covered in it.

“Ginny.”

“I know, ‘Mione.”

Hermione didn’t want to see it, but also couldn’t get herself to put down the binoculars. She watched as Theo pulled him into a standing position and then helped Snape maneuver his mostly limp body off the field, presumably to the hospital ward.

“I need to go!” Hermione began scrambling, but Ginny placed a firm hand on her arm.

“You can’t,” she spoke softly. “I know you want to, and I know it sucks, but you can’t.”

Hermione’s mouth opened in protest but then shut just as quickly. Her brain wasn’t working fast enough to provide a logical argument. She didn’t need an argument, she needed Draco.

“He’s awake…for the most part, and he’s not on a stretcher. A quick trip to Pomfrey and he’ll be good as new.”

Ginny’s reassurances fell on deaf ears.

She realized as much and let out a sigh of resignation.

“Alright, fine, you win. I’ll get us into the infirmary.”

Hermione didn’t speak, opting to throw her arms around Ginny in a display of gratitude.

“Yes, yes, I love you too. Now you have to get off of me, we need to find Fred.”

“Fred?” Hermione asked, pulling back from her friend. “Whatever for?”

 

Hermione let Ginny lead her out of the now empty stands, back into the castle, and up to Gryffindor Tower. The girls spotted their target seated on a red and gold couch with a half drank pint of butter beer in one hand and a tie wrapped around his head.

“Fred!” Ginny’s yell from the entrance of the common room gathered the attention of all students around them.

“Why hello my darling, quiet, little sister,” he replied with a grin.

“You’ll have to be louder next time you need something, I could barely hear you.”

“Leave the sarcasm for George.”

She grabbed at her brother’s hand that wasn’t holding a beverage and tugged him into a standing position.

“Where are we going?”

“You’re going up to your room and bringing me one of those new treats that you’ve been crafting.”

Fred’s eyebrows raised up towards his hairline.

“What in the bloody hell do you need one of those for?”

“Test tomorrow morning, didn’t study.” Ginny’s lie slipped effortlessly past her lips.

“I need to spend the night in Madam Pomfrey’s care. Hermione is going to take me to her.”

Fred’s expression changed from confusion to blatant disbelief.

“Hermione Granger, helping someone break a rule? How outrageous. I am simply scandalized by this news.”

“Piss off, Fred. Go get the treat before I decide to write mum and tell her that you’re still making them, even though she forbade you from doing so.”

The boy let out a low whistle.

“You run a tough bargain, Gin. I’ll be right back.”

He loped towards the stairs.

“Ginny,” Hermione murmured beside her, “what kind of candy is he getting?”

“Fred and George’s newest creation, puking pastilles,” Ginny replied with a wince.

“Not pleasant, but certainly a good cause for an infirmary trip, wouldn’t you say?”

“We’re making ourselves sick?”

Ginny appraised her friend with an amused look.

“Do you want to see a certain someone without arising suspicion, or not?”

The statement rendered Hermione silent.

“Besides,” Ginny added. “You’re not making yourself sick, I am.”

“What? Why would it have to be you?”

“Because how are you supposed to be doting over your Prince if you’re puking your guts out?”

“Ginny, you don’t have to do this.”

She bumped her shoulder against Hermione’s.

“I know, but I will. What are friends for?”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Theo paced the length of the infirmary for the third time. Pomfrey had taken Draco back into his room forty minutes ago, and he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of either of them since. He wasn’t about to leave, not until Pomfrey told him everything was fine, but he also didn’t know what else to do with the pent-up energy buzzing in his veins.

The main door to the infirmary opened, drawing his attention to the entrance.

“Um, a little help here, Theo?”

The boy blinked at the scene before him. Hermione was holding up Ginny, who appeared to be turning greener each second.

“Madam Pomfrey!” Theo called out loudly.

“I think there is someone here who needs your help!”

In his next breath, the Slytherin pulled out his wand and summoned a waste bin, hefting it towards the redhead. The basket barely made it in front of her before she released the contents of her stomach into it.

Theo’s entire body tensed. Oh, how he hated vomit.

“What in the bloody hell happened to her?” He demanded to Hermione, who chuckled. Chuckled? Had she gone bonkers?

“She’s being an unbelievably good friend, that’s what happened.”

“I—“ Theo didn’t finish his sentence, as Madam Pomfrey scuttled out from behind the healing curtains.

“Oh dear.”

She wrapped an arm around Ginny’s shoulders and pulled her back into the room, the bin floating beside her to avoid any messes.

“You two stay up here,” Pomfrey instructed. “I’ll give you updates in a bit.”

When she was gone, the pair turned to one another.

“How’s Draco?”

“What’s wrong with Ginny?”

Their questions overlapped one another, and they paused before laughing weakly.

“Alright, let’s try one at a time,” Theo suggested.

“To answer your question, I think Draco is fine. He had a pretty nasty gash on his forehead, thus all that blood on the pitch, but no broken bones. Pomfrey hasn’t told me much beyond that.”

Hermione nodded, her chest deflating with a relieved exhalation.

“Ginny is fine, too. We needed an excuse to come up here so she took one of her brother’s newest inventions. He promised she wouldn’t throw up more than three times, but he’s already wrong on that front.”

Hermione shuddered.

“Let’s just say that I’m going to have to buy her a very nice Christmas present this year.”

Theo’s eyebrows raised.

“She willingly made herself sick so that you two could come up here?”

Hermione nodded and Theo shook his head slightly, a smirk blossoming on his face.

“A martyr in red,” he commented drily. Hermione laughed.

“Yes, well, never underestimate the loyalty of a lion.”

Footsteps approached the two from the back room, sending both into silence. Madam Pomfrey pulled back the curtain entrance and said rather exasperatedly,

“Alright you two, come on in.”

 

Ginny and Draco were stationed on two beds next to one another in an otherwise empty room. Ginny was curled into a ball on one side of her bed moaning in agony, and Draco, his head wrapped in a bandage, watched on rather uncomfortably.

“This is all your fault Draco.”

“My fault?” He asked incredulously.

“How is this my fault?”

“If you wouldn’t have crashed off of your sodding broom, we wouldn’t be here in the first place.”

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head, Ginevra?” Draco laughed nervously, glancing towards Madam Pomfrey. Instead of being surprised by their conversation, however, she laughed.

“If you’re trying to throw me off the trail of your hidden friendship, Mr. Malfoy, I’m afraid it’s not going to happen.”

All four students’ eyes, even Ginny’s, turned to her.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re referring to,” Draco’s hesitant statement was met by a knowing smirk.

“I have seen many things in my time working here, friendships are always revealed in times of duress.” She turned to face Draco fully.

“You think I don’t know who your parents came to visit after a full moon? You think I’m surprised to find lions checking in on a snake?”

His face paled. She turned to Ginny.

“And you, Miss Weasley. You truly believed that I haven’t seen enough of your brothers in the past decade to know when they’re crafting something new? Shame on you. You should’ve come in to check on your friend without making me another patient in the process.”

“Sorry Madam Pomfrey,” Ginny grunted, “it’ll never happen again, I assure you.”

“Yes, well, it appears you are being served your own form of punishment.”

Her attention flitted back to Theo and Hermione, who stood nervously at the entrance of the room.

“Oh, come in fully you two, I won’t bite.”

The students stepped forward tentatively.

“You have until curfew to stay with them, but when the time comes, they’re remaining here and you’re going back to your dormitories. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Madam Pomfrey.”

“Excellent. Well, I’m off to tend to a few first years in the other room.” She bustled towards the door, pausing before she walked out.

“Don’t make these infirmary stays a habit.”

The door softly closed behind her.

 

“Draco!” Hermione scrambled forward into his already open arms.

“Hi love,” he mumbled, pressing his lips to her hairline repeatedly.

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine.”

He wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“I’m a bit more worried about Ginny if I’m being honest.”

As if on cue, Ginny let out another whimper of agony.

“Chin up Ginevra!” Theo breached the remaining distance between them and plopped himself on her bed.

“Theodore what are you doing?” Ginny moaned. “This is horrific, you shouldn’t want to be within 10 meters of me.”

Theo had the audacity to laugh.

“Just consider me a glutton for punishment. Plus, when you’re this out of sorts it makes it especially difficult for you to spurn my advances of our blossoming friendship. Speaking of that, do you need anything?”

“No…thank you.”

She turned to look at him, blinking up with pale blue eyes.

“Good game today, by the way.”

Theo’s jaw dropped open.

“Complimenting me? You must be feeling even worse than I thought.”

His head whipped up to find Draco’s.

“Do I need to go find Pomfrey?”

This time, Hermione laughed.

“Ginny can be very nice when she wants to be Theo.”

“Yes, well, I’ve never been included in that select group.”

“I’ll be nice to you forever if you can figure out how to make me feel less hellish. And quickly, if you could. I think Pomfrey held back on the full treatment because she wants me to learn a lesson.”

“Ah, well I’m no healer so I don’t think I’m much help on that front, but I can get your notes for classes tomorrow if that helps.”

“Hate to break it to you, Nott, but you’re a year ahead of me.”

He grinned.

“Oh, how I’ve missed your snark. Yes, I know that, but I also have my own connections. Don’t worry about your notes. I’ll handle it.”

Ginny nodded before tensing her body. She grabbed at her stomach and turned away from her friends.

“Leave me here to die.”

“We don’t leave anyone to die, Ginny.”

Hermione’s words were lined with a fierceness that didn’t quite seem warranted for their current situation, but no one commented on it. Instead, the group remained together, chatting idly between Ginny’s bouts of cramping, remaining steadfast in a friendship that only grew stronger each day.

Chapter 29

“This is getting ridiculous,” Hermione huffed, flopping into her seat in the Great Hall. The Gryffindors had just left Defense Against the Dark Arts, and yet again, not a single thing had been taught outside of what was provided in the textbook.

“It’s our OWL year, and she’s giving us nothing to work with,” Hermione fumed, “it’s an hour of rudimentary review at best.”

“Not to mention that she’s foul,” Harry grumbled beside her. Hermione threw him a withering look.

“Don’t even get me started on you, Harry. I know that she gets under your skin, but seriously? Another detention? At this rate you’ll be serving punishments until graduation.”

“Oh bugger off ‘Mione,” he groaned, leaning his head into his hands.

“She’s the worst and you know it.”

“I know that whatever she throws at you, you can handle it,” Hermione said, and then added quieter so the surrounding group couldn’t hear, “you’re better than what she makes you out to be, Harry. Don’t let her hold this power over you.”

His green eyes peeked out at her through the space between his fingers.

“I’m just, angry, Hermione. I’m so angry, and no one believes me, and I just—“ he stood up suddenly. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

He quickly moved towards the door and Hermione sighed.

“What was that about?”

Ginny filled the space that the boy had just vacated, dropping her Care of Magical Creatures textbook down with a thump.

“Harry is still being…difficult,” she managed to say. Ginny watched his retreat, then replied,

“I can try talking to him.”

“Really?”

She nodded, her head turning back to her friend.

“When Voldemort lives in your head for a year, you learn how to deal with angry.”

“Gin-“

“Oh I’m just teasing,” Ginny rolled her eyes at the girl. “I know you didn’t mean any harm by it. I suppose I’ll go track him down.”

She lifted off the bench to leave, adding quietly, “by the way, Tall, Pale, and Handsome wants you to meet him in the library.”

“And how exactly do you know that?” Hermione whispered. Ginny grinned at the question.

“My methods are my own, ‘Mione. You’ll find that they’re mostly used for your benefit.”

It was Hermione’s turn to roll her eyes, but by the time she opened her mouth to say something in return, the redhead was already gone.

 

Later that evening in the quiet of the library, Hermione still couldn’t quell her annoyance.

“I need to do something about this!”

Her announcement shattered the silence of studying that had permeated the room, and three heads snapped up to look at her.

“Alright, then do something about it?”

“Wow, Nott, how insightful. Truly, you’re a visionary.” Ginny’s dry response had Draco chuckling.

“Love,” he said to Hermione when he’d calmed down. “You already know everything in the DADA textbook through at least sixth year. You’re going to pass your OWLs just fine.”

“This is not just about me!”

Hermione’s voice was edging on hysteria, and Draco recognized it almost immediately. He rose from his chair and moved towards her with his hands raised in surrender.

“Okay, yes, you’re right. I’m sorry,” he soothed. “You want to do something about it, then let’s do something about it.”

Her shoulders slumped as the anger that she held in her chest turned to desperation.

“But I don’t know what to do! The war is coming, and I want the people I love to be prepared, but no one is giving them a fighting chance.”

“Ha! Fighting chance. Good one Granger.”

“Theodore!” Ginny hissed, flicking him on the temple. “Not. The. Time.”

He rubbed at his now sore forehead and scooted farther back in his chair.

“Gryffindors don’t appreciate puns, noted,” he grumbled.

Hermione turned her attention back to Draco.

“We need a teacher. Someone who is better than Dumb-bridge and also someone who is better than me. DADA is my worst subject. I know all about the concepts, but my application is shoddy at best. We need someone else.”

“We need Harry.”

Hermione mulled over Ginny’s suggestion. She was right, Harry was by far the most advanced defense student in their year, and what he lacked in book knowledge he more than made up for in practical skill. Not to mention, he loved to break rules, and this was a perfect thing to take his mind off of the grief that plagued him. It was genius.

“Ginny, you are totally right. We need Harry.”

“I’m sorry, maybe I’m just a bit slow tonight, but you need Harry for what, exactly?” Theo asked.

“Excellent question mate,” Draco chimed in. “I also have no idea what you two are on about.”

Hermione and Ginny grinned at each other before turning back to face the boys.

“It’s simple really,” Hermione started, “if Hogwarts won’t teach us, then we’ll teach ourselves. We just have to convince Harry to do it, find a place that’s secret enough to practice, and then determine which students want to join.”

“So, you’re forming a club?” Theo asked.

“A secret club,” Ginny responded, “much more exclusive.”

“Toadbridge is not going to like that.”

“Well, Toadbridge isn’t going to find out about it now is she.”

Theo was silent for a moment before shrugging in agreement.

“Fair enough. How do we help? Obviously, we can’t join you, but there’s got to be something else.”

“We’ll run interference,” Draco supplied, throwing his arm around Hermione’s shoulders.

“We’ll stay on Delores’s good side and keep the inside scoop. No one is getting caught.”

Hermione beamed up at him.

“Brilliant.”

“Alright, well it appears all that is left to figure out is where you’re going to study.”

“Shrieking Shack?” Ginny suggested but Hermione shook her head.

“Too far, even with the hidden passage, and I don’t know how we’d get that many students off of school grounds without someone noticing.”

“Quidditch pitch?” Theo offered.

“Probably too visible,” Draco responded, “and also that pitch is bloody busy anyway with all of the house practices after a year off.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

Theo stroked his chin with his thumb and index finger for a moment, and then his eyes lit with a new idea.

“If only we knew someone whose business it is to give people secret locations.”

Draco’s eyes widened.

“I don’t know, Theo, that seems a bit too dangerous.”

“Oh come on,” he argued, “Hermione has seen him before, and you know damn well he’ll have a solution.”

“He’s never known it was her!”

“Then we’ll teach her how to negotiate herself. Easy.”

“I don’t want her going alone.”

“Fine, she can take Potter. We’ll make it seem like it’s all her idea, too. That way no one will question it.”

“Will someone tell me what the hell you two are talking about?”

Ginny’s interjection sliced through their banter.

“Ginny, what do you know about Blaise Zabini?” Hermione threw out the question before either wizard could respond.

Ginny blinked at her friend a few times.

“Um, he’s a Slytherin, a year older than I am, annoyingly handsome?”

Theo groaned and she ignored him.

“Oh, and he also has some sort of side business where he completes favors or something. I don’t know, Fred and George have mentioned it before but it seems a bit dodgy to me—“

Realization dawned across her face.

“Oh. Now this is brilliant. We’ll both go find him.”

“No, you’re not going.”

Ginny’s head whipped towards Theo’s, the tips of her ears turning red with annoyance.

“I didn’t realize you were the boss of me, Nott.”

“Ginny, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you’re about as subtle as an angry hippogriff.”

“Oh, and you think Harry sodding save-the-world Potter is any better?”

“He’s not any better, in fact he’s probably worse, but that’s the point.”

Theo’s reply was calm despite the fury brewing across the red head’s features. She didn’t respond aside from arching a brow at him. Theo continued.

“Potter is going to march in there as brash as ever, and Hermione will rectify anything that he utterly messes up. We need Harry to go in blind because it’s completely authentic. Blaise can spot a lie blindfolded from a kilometer away.”

“And you think I can’t act?” Ginny demanded, and Theo had the audacity to smile at her.

“I think that you’re taking this too personally, Ginevra.”

She opened her mouth to argue but shut it just as quickly.

“Fine.”

Her response through gritted teeth made Theo’s smile only grow larger. He turned back to Hermione and Draco.

“What do you two think?”

“I’ll do it,” Hermione replied at the same time as Draco spoke.

“I don’t like it.”

The pair stared at one another.

“Come on, Draco, I’ll be fine.”

“I just—“ he paused, taking a deep breath.

“You’re right. You’ll be fine.”

“Interesting,” Theo observed, “I thought there’d be a lot more shouting involved in this.”

Draco shrugged his shoulders in a way that felt very out of place with his usual proper actions.

“She can make her own decisions, and if she believes it’s a good idea then I believe her.”

“Nauseatingly cute,” Ginny muttered. Theo nodded in agreement.

“Alright,” he clapped his hands together, “here’s what you’re going to do.”

 

It took a few days, and another round of coma inducing classroom sessions with Umbridge, but Harry finally conceded to Hermione’s plan. She gave him only the barest of details, telling him that she heard in passing about Zabini’s ‘business’ and that she thought he would be able to help. When Ron offered to go with them, the girl gave him the same excuse that Theo had used on Ginny, and he begrudgingly agreed to stay back.

Hermione and Harry scheduled their plan based on a gap of time where prefect patrol and quidditch practice didn’t overlap, and that was that.

On the chosen night, the golden trio waited together in the Gryffindor common room late into the night until all other students retired to their dorms.

“What if I hide under the cloak?” Ron asked. He was sitting on a chair opposite his friends with his arms crossed over his chest.

“We’ve been over this. We need the cloak to sneak back here, and the three of us are too big to fit under it together anymore.”

“I think we could fit.”

“Ron, you are six feet tall. So is Harry.”

“Maybe so, but you’re pocket sized. I could carry you on my back?”

“Ron,” Harry joined the conversation. “Sorry mate, but ‘Mione’s right, you have to sit this one out.”

“Fine.”

Ron rose from his seat.

“I’m going to bed. Don’t get caught, and don’t come running to me if this plan goes awry.”

“You’re being a bit of a baby about this, Ronald,” Hermione quipped, and his lips tugged up into a sheepish smile.

“I know. I just hate missing out on the fun.”

He shook his head slightly, his features relaxing.

“Harry, send a patronus if you get into a pinch and I’ll see what kind of ruckus I can start up as a distraction.”

Harry grinned at him.

“There’s the Ron we know and love. Goodnight.”

“G’night.”

He threw up a haphazard wave and ambled up the boys’ staircase, leaving only Hermione and Harry.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

Hermione noticed that Harry’s green eyes were clear for what seemed like the first time all school year. She had been right that giving the boy a new purpose was a sure-fire way to pull him out of his suffering.

“Can I see the Maurader’s Map?”

Harry pulled the map out of the pocket of his robe and handed it to her. She muttered the incantation and unfolded it onto the table, searching for Zabini.

“Astronomy tower. Excellent. Let’s go.”

 

Hermione’s knuckles connected on the solid oak door.

Knock knock knock knock.

“Enter.”

A chill ran down her spine.

The pair walked into the room, and Hermione’s eyes landed on Blaise, seated in the professor’s chair like he owned the place.

“My my, two thirds of the golden trio? What a pleasant surprise.”

Blaise’s voice was smooth and deep, washing over Hermione like water lapping a shoreline. She tried to mimic his calmness in her own voice.

“Hello, Zabini.”

His dark eyes assessed her, one part curious and the other part cunning.

“Hello, Granger.”

His gaze flitted to the person beside her.

“Potter.”

“Zabini.”

Harry shifted closer to Hermione and reached out to grip her hand in his. To the untrained eye, this may have looked like a sign of fear, but Hermione knew better. She’d never seen Harry afraid of anything, not even death itself. If anything, his actions were founded in solidarity. They would face anything Blaise threw at them, together. The tension in Hermione’s neck eased, just a bit.

“It’s rare that I entertain lions,” Blaise drawled. “To what do I owe the great pleasure?”

“We need something from you. I thought that’d be obvious.”

Hermione bit back a laugh at Harry’s bluntness but remained quiet. Blaise tilted his head.

“Go on.”

“We need a…room, or a space, or something that will fit roughly twenty students. A place that is secret and that won’t be found by Um—“

Hermione squeezed his hand in warning and Harry stopped mid-sentence.

“That won’t be found by others,” he corrected.

“I see. Is this just a one-time ordeal?”

“No.”

Blaise leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across the table.

“So, what, exactly, will these twenty students be doing?”

Harry opened his mouth to respond but Hermione beat him to it.

“That information isn’t really up for discussion,” she replied politely. Zabini’s attention honed back in on her, and a devious smile spread across his features.

“20 students in need of a secret location for an undisclosed amount of time? How very scandalous.”

Harry made a pained sound in his throat.

“That’s not—"

Again, Hermione squeezed his hand, rendering him silent.

The Gryffindors stood in a standoff with the Slytherin. No one spoke for several moments.

“Can you help us or not?”

There was that brashness that Harry was so well known for.

“Despite my utter lack of information,” Zabini emphasized his words, “yes, I believe I can. But there is a cost.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know, a secret.”

He blinked at Harry, once, then twice.

“This will cost more than one secret, Potter. For a task this large I will require two. One from each of you.”

“Alright,” Harry’s voice tinged with annoyance.

“I’ll go first. Start your binding spell.”

“No.”

Blaise turned to Hermione, dark eyes still calculating.

“I demand a secret that no one else knows. Something you haven’t shared with anyone, not even one another.”

“That’s not fair,” Harry complained, “I tell ‘Mione everything.”

The corner of Blaise’s mouth lifted.

“I assure you, Potter, that somewhere in that head of yours is a secret that you haven’t told Granger, something you haven’t told anyone. Those secrets are deep, and more importantly, valuable. The price may be steep, but it is what I require. Take it or leave it.”

Hermione’s head crowded with remembered bits of advice from Theo and Draco. Try to be vague, mute your facial expressions, occlude if you have to. Their recommendations were of no use to Harry, who stepped forward boldly. Hermione pulse thrummed beneath her skin.

“Like I said, I’ll go first.”

Blaise glanced over to Hermione.

“Sorry about this.”

Although he didn’t sound sorry at all.

With a quick flick of his wand, Hermione’s ears suddenly felt like they were flooded with an unseen liquid. Everything around her became garbled, and then she heard nothing but rushing water. This was different than any silencing spell she’d seen, and had she not been so shocked by the intrusiveness of it, she’d probably be impressed. Instead, she pressed her hands to her ears and silently counted by tens until it was over.

When it was done, he put Harry into the same spell and then turned to the girl.

“Do you know how this works, Granger?”

“Do I ever not know how something works, Zabini?”

Blaise couldn’t stop the laugh that erupted from his chest, but he schooled his features quickly. Without so much as flinching, Hermione held out her wand.

“Make the deal.”

A stringy red light glowed between them before Zabini spoke again.

“What is your secret, Hermione Granger?”

“Harry told you that he tells me everything. But I tell him nothing.”

Blaise flicked out his tongue to lick his bottom lip.

“Not enough. Elaborate.”

Hermione took a deep breath, forcing her fear into her locket.

“I have secrets, Blaise, many. Someday, Harry will discover them, and when he does, I’ll lose him.”

The boy assessed her, unblinking.

“And yet, you keep the secrets anyway.”

Hermione did not respond.

After a moment, Blaise murmured the words to end their binding, and he stared at her again.

“For the record, Granger, he’s keeping secrets too.”

Before she could question him, Blaise swished his wand at Harry.

“The room you seek is called the Room of Requirement. It is unmappable, and one of Hogwart’s greatest kept secrets. Find the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy in the seventh floor corridor and walk past it three times. The door will appear. The magic inside will provide with whatever you need for your…activities.”

“Like I said, it’s not-“

“Harry,” Hermione cut him off.

“Let’s just tell Zabini thank you, and be on our way, shall we?”

If Hermione knew any better, she’d almost think that Blaise was hiding amusement, but the expression on his face was gone as quickly as it’d come.

“Goodnight.”

The door of the classroom closed and locked behind them.

 

Their walk back to Gryffindor Tower was silent. Hermione felt nauseous, weighed down by the gravity of her secrets. She wondered if Harry felt the same. She also wondered what Zabini had meant when he told her that she wasn’t the only one with things to hide. What had Harry told him?

 

As Hermione lay in bed that night, her brain raced, finally landing on a replay of her first conversation with Sirius over the summer.

 

 

Months before:

Hermione perched on an antique ottoman, reading one of the few books in the Black Family library that didn’t scream when opened.

“Finally found one that wasn’t cursed, eh?”

The voice made her jump.

“Oh! Sirius, you gave me a fright.” She closed the book and looked up at his bemused grin.

“Haunted houses have been known to be scary,” he said wryly, and then he held out his hand.

“Let me take a look.”

She reached out to hand him the text, her sleeves slipping up on her arm. Sirius’s eyes widened, and the book dropped between them with a thud. Instead of catching it, he moved forward to grasp her wrist.

“I haven’t seen this bracelet for a long time,” he said at last. Hermione’s blood ran cold.

“How can you—“

“Imbued with magic,” he whispered, “charmed by the Blacks.” His eyes shot to hers, and she could see the hope pulsing through them.

“Who gave this to you?”

“Draco,” she replied nervously, “Draco Malfoy.”

Sirius blinked rapidly a few times.

“Cissa and Lucius’s son?”

When she nodded his face broke into a smile.

“I knew you were together,” he breathed, “But I didn’t know he was your betrothed. Tell me everything.”

Hermione hesitated. Sirius seemed to be trustworthy, and the stories from Narcissa and Lucius spoke time and time again of their friendship, but she didn’t know if they were her secrets to share. He seemed to sense her apprehension and placed a soothing hand over hers.

“Hermione, I promise that whatever you tell me will stay between us. Well, us and maybe Remus, but he’s as loyal to them as I am. The Malfoys are friends of ours, and beyond that they’re some of the only family I have left that I don’t find completely detestable, so I can assure you that this secret will stay safe.”

Hermione, pleased with his placating efforts, began to tell a condensed version of her past few weeks. Sirius remained quiet throughout, only asking a few questions. By the end, his grin was wide enough to slice his face in half.

“Who would’ve thought, you’re expected to wed your best friend’s nemesis, and a Malfoy nonetheless.” Hermione flushed.

“Please don’t tell Harry.” At this he nearly scoffed,

“Trust me, Hermione, if Harry finds out it will not be from me.” He paused for a moment, considering his next words.

“Although, you might want to consider telling him yourself.”

“I have thought about it,” she admitted, twirling a curl around her finger. “It’s just that I’m worried. Harry can be…reckless,” she winced when she said the word but pushed back the slight. “I love him, I do, it’s just that he’s not the only person I have to consider anymore. If he let his emotions get the best of him, he might say something he shouldn’t, he might ruin something that’s been decades in the making.”

“But if you don’t tell him, and he finds out, he might take all of that emotion out on you,” Sirius met her gaze with his own. “You’ll lose him. Are you willing to take the risk?”

The question sank into Hermione’s chest, making it difficult to breathe. She was a smart girl, and like Sirius she too had come to this potential conclusion. She steadied herself and then replied in a low voice.

“I have to take the risk,” she closed her eyes. “I’ll protect Harry with my life, I always have, but if I have to lose our friendship to protect Draco, then that’s what I will do.” Her eyes fluttered open, and Sirius replied quietly.

“It’s incredible, really, what we’ll sacrifice for those we love.”

“I wish,” Hermione hesitated, but then spoke the rest in a terse rush. “I wish things were different.

The man’s expression became wistful.

“Yes, Hermione, I think we can all agree to that.”

 

Present:

The conversation with Sirius played in her head, over and over, until her sleep-deprived mind melded it into the conversation she had with Blaise that very night. Before long, all the remembered voices blurred into an indiscernible stream of consciousness, and Hermione let herself drift into restless dreams.

Chapter 30

Hermione and Harry collapsed into chairs in the Gryffindor common room. It was well past midnight and they had just returned from another meeting of Dumbledore’s Army.

“I’m exhausted,” Harry spoke through a yawn, yanking his glasses off of his face to rub at his eyes.

“You did great tonight, Harry!”

Hermione sent him a tired smile.

“Everyone listened to you, and we learned more about shielding charms in two hours than we have all school year. This has turned out to be an excellent idea.”

Harry let out a low chuckle.

“Well I hope it’s worth something, considering we are now breaking about ten new school rules.”

Hermione batted away his concerns with her hand.

“And when did you start caring about breaking rules, hm?”

He cracked a wan smile.

“Yeah, you’re right. To hell with them! Rules schmools.”

Hermione couldn’t decide if it was sleep-deprived delirium, or if Harry’s comment was actually funny, but they both laughed until tears streamed down their faces.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Harry act this way, carefree and dare she say it, happy. It warmed her heart entirely to see him healing from the turmoil of last spring.

“We should probably head up to bed.”

Harry spoke as their laughter died down.

“Or,” she began, “we could have a sleepover in the common room, like we used to second year?”

Hermione smiled, thinking back to the many nights that her Ron and Harry would sleep alongside one another on the floor of the common room. Harry and Ron made up plenty of excuses for their sleepovers, but Hermione knew better. They did it because they knew that as a muggleborn, she was scared to be alone. Her roommates, who she never quite got along with, wouldn’t protect her, but they would. And tonight, Hermione wanted to reciprocate the favor. For once, Harry was happy, and if she let him slip away to the silence of his dorm, the negative thoughts that were hiding in his mind would come back to play. She wouldn’t let that happen.

“Come on,” she urged, “I’ll even braid your hair.”

The joke was bad, but Harry laughed anyway. Then he stretched out on the couch beside her in a clear display that he wasn’t moving.

“Alright, ‘Mione,” he agreed easily. “Sleepover it is.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 

The next several months passed with a routine sameness. Classes, patrol, DA meetings, time with her Slytherins. Hermione hadn’t felt this stable in years.

“‘Mione, do you have a quill I could borrow?”

Ron asked without looking up, rummaging through his bag. The girl sighed dramatically.

“Yes, I suppose you can have one, but don’t lose it this time!”

He looked up at her, grinning.

“No promises.”

She rolled her eyes and Harry laughed at the pair of them. They were almost to the transfiguration classroom, close enough that they could see it, but trouble always seems to start when you think you’re in the clear.

Ron, still busy sorting through his things, wasn’t watching where he was going, and ended up bumping into Vincent Crabbe, also headed to class.

“Watch it, Weasley.”

“I wouldn’t have to watch it if you didn’t take up half the hallway, Crabbe. Have you ever heard of walking in a straight line?”

“Ron—“ Hermione warned, but it was too late, the boys were glowering at each other, wands drawn.

“What’s going on here?”

Hermione’s spine tingled at the voice. It was Draco, but not in the way that she knew him. Right now, he was playing his role, and she didn’t want to witness what would come next.

“This doesn’t concern you, Malfoy,” Ron spoke through gritted teeth and Draco let out a haughty laugh, his silver eyes flashing mirthlessly.

“I’m on the Inquisitorial Squad, Weaslebee, which means that everything concerns me. Oh, that reminds me, five points from Gryffindor for unnecessary snark.”

“You can’t do that!” Harry chipped in and Draco turned on him.

“I can’t? Watch me.”

“Boys, let’s go.” Hermione’s insistence did little to stop the standoff that was occurring in front of her, but it did make Draco’s attention spin towards her direction.

“Granger, let us boys have a discussion.”

The pompous tone he used with her made fury sizzle in her veins.

“Don’t-“ Ron started but she cut him off.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, Draco Malfoy.”

His eyes widened just a fraction with the menace in her tone, but he couldn’t back down, not now that a crowd had gathered around them to watch the show. He swallowed down the acid rising in his esophagus and forged ahead in as indifferent a voice that he could muster.

“Don’t speak above your rank, Granger.”

Hermione recoiled as though she’d been slapped. Her look alone knocked the breath out of Draco’s lungs. He moved forward instinctively to comfort her, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Drake, just leave it.”

Draco wasn’t sure when Theo had arrived to stand beside him, but he’d been there long enough to witness what just happened.

Hermione shook her head angrily, spinning around to push Ron away from Crabbe with a solid hand on his chest.

“Class. Now.”

Ron and Harry knew by her voice that she meant business, and they conceded, following her inside while mumbling under their breath.

“What the fuck was that?” Theo demanded when the crowd had dispersed, but Draco merely shook his head.

“It was nothing. She—she knows I didn’t mean it.”

 

Hermione refused to look at him in class. Not once. Then, she bolted from the room at the first opportunity. A prickling sense of unease planted itself between Draco’s shoulder blades, and it only kept growing. When she was nowhere to be found at dinner, he began to realize just how big of a mistake he may have made.

“Maybe she’s busy,” he reasoned to Theo, when she didn’t meet them in the alcove that night.

“Yeah, or maybe you just royally fucked up.”

Theo’s response had Draco glaring, but their impending argument was interrupted by a burst of red that came barreling towards them from around the corner.

“What the hell did you do Draco?!”

The venom in Ginny’s tone had both boys leaning back in their seats.

“Ginny?”

“Oh don’t Ginny me you sodding tosser. Answer my damn question. What. Did. You. Do.”

“I—well—you see—“

Draco fumbled for a response that would appease her, but Theo decided to go in for the kill instead.

“He told Hermione not to speak out of her rank.”

Ginny’s stare became murderous.

“YOU WHAT!”

“I didn’t mean it!” Draco tried to defend himself.

“There were people around, I was already playing a part, I couldn’t back down!”

Ginny’s roar turned deadly quiet, which was all the more terrifying.

“You could’ve insulted her with any meaningless baseline comment and achieved your point, but instead you voiced one of her biggest insecurities in front of a crowd.”

“I-wait what? Her biggest insecurity?”

Ginny shook her head, falling into the seat beside Draco in exasperation.

“Yes, you dolt. Hermione’s spent the last four years of her life fighting back against the bogus societal expectation that she is less than you because of the blood in her veins. She’s never felt good enough, and you thought it appropriate to highlight that fear. You know what? You don’t even deserve this explanation from me. How about you go find your girlfriend and fix this before I hex you into a semester long stay with Madam Pomfrey.”

“She’s not coming?”

Ginny shook her head in disgust.

“Of course she’s not coming. According to the last thing she said to me, she’s never coming back to this alcove again. She also hasn’t stopped crying since class, you absolute pigheaded arse.”

Draco’s heart dropped into his stomach.

“Oh fuck.” Theo’s murmur beside him fell on deaf ears, as Draco’s mind grated to a halt. Hermione was done? With him? No. He couldn’t let that happen.

“What have I done?” Draco groaned, head falling into his hands, but he only relished in the fear for a moment. Then, he stood up, his jaw taut and eyes forward on Ginny.

“Where can I find her?”

Ginny breathed a sigh, maybe of relief? And replied,

“Room of Requirement.”

He moved to leave but heard Ginny call to him.

“Good luck getting in though, the room she asked for was to be anywhere where you aren’t. Honestly, I don’t blame her.”

When Draco had gone, Ginny turned to Theo, rage still outlining her features. He put up his hands in surrender, saying weakly,

“For the record, I had nothing to do with this.”

“You better not have, or you’ll see just how good of a bat bogey hex I can cast.”

 

By the time Draco had made it up to the hidden entrance he was in a near panic. Hermione was everything to him and he was on the brink of losing it all. The first three rooms he was allowed to enter did not contain his witch, and he was growing more frustrated.

“Please, if she won’t let me see her at least let me communicate with her.”

He didn’t know how much good it was to beg to a voiceless room, but at this point it was worth a shot. The furniture around him shifted, allowing for a chalkboard on one of the walls. Draco stepped forward tentatively and grabbed a piece of chalk.

Hi Love

The words disappeared. He waited for several minutes before trying again.

Please answer me

And then again.

I’m so sorry. I want to apologize to you properly.

I didn’t think you’d apologize to someone so far beneath you.

He nearly dropped the piece of chalk in his hand.

Hermione.

He spelled out her name with shaking fingers.

I didn’t mean any of what I said outside of that classroom. There were so many people around, I felt like I had to keep up the act. But what I said was wrong, and I don’t believe it. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please let me see you.

She didn’t respond right away, and Draco’s heart sunk deeper, but suddenly the furniture started moving again, revealing a doorway in the wall.

Draco moved towards it, gripping the knob and praying that it wasn’t locked. He supposed it wouldn’t really matter if it was, he’d use alohamora, or kick it down if it came to it.

He opened the door and stepped through, finding himself in what he assumed was a replica of the Gryffindor common room. Red and gold banners hung from the ceiling, and various couches and chairs were strewn about the room, centered around a massive fireplace which sat in the center of the opposite wall. The adjacent wall featured a large mural of lion, painted in gold. Draco held in a huff. Typical ostentatious Gryffindors.

“Hermione?” He called out tentatively into the seemingly empty space.

From the back corner of the room, his witch stood and stepped forward slowly.

“Let’s hear it then.”

“What?” He blinked at her several times, noting that despite her swollen eyes and disheveled appearance, she was still the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.

“Your apology, Draco. Let’s hear it before I decide the room is to kick you out again.”

“Gods your pretty.”

The words flew out of his mouth, and he winced, scrambling to come up with something better, something that he desperately needed to pull himself out of this mess.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Flattery won’t get you out of this one, Malfoy.”

Using surnames? Merlin, he was in more trouble than he initially thought.

“You’re right, and it shouldn’t, but persistence might.”

He strode closer and reached out for her, unsure if she would let him take her hands into his. When she did, he had to hold back a relieved smile.

“Come, sit with me.”

They settled into two chairs and Draco began to speak in earnest.

“I’m sorry, Hermione. I’m an absolute idiot. It doesn’t matter that I was in front of people, I never should have spoken about you like that. It was a lie. I don’t believe it in the slightest.”

“Lies can hurt as much as the truth, Draco.”

He cringed.

“I know, I fucked up. You deserve to be furious with me. I’m furious with myself.”

At last, Draco saw the barest trace of smile grace her inordinately beautiful face. He kept speaking.

“How can I make it up to you? Extravagant gifts? Public embarrassment? You name it and I’ll do it.”

Hermione let out one low laugh.

“Don’t tempt me with public embarrassment, Draco, you’ll be sorry for even suggesting it.”

His face broke into a smile.

“Honestly, love, I’m just happy that I’m Draco again.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I haven’t fully forgiven you; you know.”

His smile stretched further.

“Yeah, but you will.”

Her brows furrowed, shifting her face into one of consternation. Draco thought she looked adorable.

“Oh really, and how do you know that?”

“Because I love you. More than anything. You know that I’d do anything in the world for you. Hell, I’d bloody well risk the world for you, and I know that despite my, what do you call them? Sodding tendencies? That you’d do the same for me. I’m not going anywhere, Hermione. Not now, not ever. Even if you hate me, refuse to speak to me, wish I was dead, it doesn’t matter. I’m forever yours.”

“Draco,” she whispered, her eyes once again flooding with tears, this time for opposing emotions.

He rose from his chair to grip her hands within his own.

“You’re still wearing your bracelet,” he breathed. She let out a shaky puff of air.

“As if I’d take it off. I’m yours, you sodding idiot.”

He bridged the lingering space between them, crashing his lips to hers. He poured into the kiss every bit of love he could summon, trying desperately to prove his worth to a girl that he knew damn well he’d never be worthy of having. He tried anyway; he knew he always would.

Chapter 31

Harry Potter wore his emotions loudly. Hermione had known this piece of information for as long as she’d known him. As his best friend over the past five years, she’d learned the subtleties of his expressions. Whether he was mad, tired, or overjoyed, she knew it before he even spoke the words aloud. And that was why, as she watched Harry walk down the seventh-floor corridor towards her with a look of sheer panic, she knew something was wrong. 

“Harry,” she began cautiously, “what happened?”

“She—she kissed me.” 

Hermione blinked. 

“Who kissed you?”

“Cho!” Harry was close enough to grab Hermione’s shoulders, his fingers gripping her tightly. 

“I was cleaning up the room of requirement, and she stayed back to help me, and then when I turned to leave, she told me to look up, and there was mistletoe, and then she kissed me.” 

Harry’s sentence was spoken in a hurried rush and Hermione resorted to watching his lips form the words to keep up. 

“I don’t think I understand.”

“What do you mean you don’t understand? She kissed me!” 

“And you’re…upset?” 

Now it was Harry’s turn to blink. He stared at his friend as though she’d just struck him, and Hermione became even more perplexed by the emotions that danced across his features. 

“I mean, I suppose not.” He said at last. She tilted her head.

“I thought you…well, I thought you liked Cho.” 

“I mean, sure, I like Cho,” he stuttered.

“She’s pretty, she’s nice, what’s not to like?”

“Harry,” Hermione spoke gently, “you don’t have to like Cho.” 

The boy let out a breath of indignation. 

“No, I like Cho.” 

“Okay, you like Cho,” she echoed, although she didn’t really believe him.

“So, what’s the problem?” 

He stared at her. 

“Well, I suppose there isn’t one.” 

“Alright? Well—”

“Thanks for talking me through that, Mione! I’m going to go catch up with Ron. Goodnight!” 

He spun and retreated away from her before she could even get out a goodbye. She stood staring at the space he left, wondering what in the world had gotten into him. Another set of footsteps came nearer. 

“What are you still doing back here? You look like you’ve been petrified by a basilisk.” 

“Not funny, Gin.” 

Hermione turned to meet the redhead’s playful gaze. 

“Cho Chang just kissed Harry.” 

The smirk dropped off of Ginny’s face, and Hermione’s eyes widened in realization. 

“Oh no. Ginny I am so sorry, I wasn’t thinking. He just totally surprised me with the news and then he took off and he was acting so weird and—”

“It’s alright, Mione.”

The smile on Ginny’s face was small but believable. 

“Are you okay?”

Ginny nodded. 

“Yeah. Oddly enough, I’m fine.” 

She shook her shoulders out as if her body was also adjusting to that truth. 

“I’ve spent what feels like my entire life thinking that Harry was it. That I could never want to be with anyone else, but…I realize now that it wasn’t even Harry that I liked, it was the idea of him. I think I was wrong. And maybe…there could be other boys.” 

“Other boys, hmm? And what other boys could there be?” 

Ginny laughed. 

“No one in particular, I’m just saying that maybe there could be. One day.”

Hermione grinned at her friend, intertwining Ginny’s fingers between her own. 

“Well then here’s to someday. But we need to move before we get caught outside after curfew.” 

The girls took off running down the hall without another word. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The allure of Christmas swept through the hallways of Hogwarts, pulling students away from their studies in favor of finding the perfect gifts during Hogsmeade weekends. Hermione, ever studious as she was, even found it difficult to concentrate. Her mind was a never-ending list of presents, and she spent much of her free time ticking them off one by one. A new set of paints for Theo, broom polish for Ginny and Harry, and a cluster of licorice wands for Ron. The only thing she had left to purchase was something for Draco, but she hadn’t come up with anything good enough. 

“I am completely at a loss,” she complained to Ginny on their way to breakfast one morning. “What do you give the boy who has everything?”

“Your naked body?”

“Ginevra Weasley!” Hermione gasped, whipping her head around to see if anyone had heard her. Ginny merely laughed. 

“I’m only kidding of course. Unless you want to give him that, then I am more than supportive of the endeavor.” 

“I cannot believe you right now,” Hermione whispered, a deep blush bloomed across her face and chest. 

“Oh, come on, don’t be a prude” Ginny heckled. The girls took their seats at the Gryffindor table. 

“Mione what’s wrong with you?” Ron quirked a brow at her flustered state. 

“Nothing! Nothing.”

She busied herself with filling her plate.

“Okay?”

Harry flopped down beside Ron.

“Hermione? Why are you all splotchy?”

“Harry James Potter that is no way to speak to a lady!” Ginny chastised him and his ears reddened. 

“Oh! Uh sorry, Gin.”

He turned back to Hermione and spoke lowly so the others couldn’t hear. 

“Did someone happen to kiss you under mistletoe, too?” 

Without looking at him, Hermione smiled and shoved at his shoulder. 

“No, you prat. We can’t all be the chosen one, after all.”

 

From across the room, another set of eyes watched Hermione and Harry laugh. A deep seeded longing churned in his stomach, and he placed a hand on his abdomen as if to quell it. He wasn’t used to this feeling—jealousy. It slithered around inside of his mind and coated all of his thoughts. It seemed he couldn’t focus on anyone else these days, and it infuriated him. It had only been one conversation, and a completely platonic one at that. There wasn’t anything there, and he needed to accept it. 

The wizard stood abruptly, brushing the nonexistent crumbs from his black cloak. 

“Where are you going, mate?” A voice asked from beside him. 

“Not your concern.” 

The boy beside him huffed a laugh but didn’t push any further. They all knew better than to ask for information they’d never receive. 

He moved towards the exit, but not without one final glance at the Gryffindor table. His dark stare was met by vibrant green. He paused and counted in his head. 

One, two, three.

He looked away and continued moving. 

Three seconds could mean nothing, but maybe, it could mean everything. 

 

Chapter 32

Ginny was not having a good day. Between the announcement of what felt like Umbridge’s five hundredth rule, a history of magic exam she was sure she’d failed, and breaking her favorite quill, she was more than ready to pack up her trunk and go back to the Burrow for the holidays. 

Hermione wasn’t coming with them, opting instead to spend a holiday properly introducing Draco to her parents, but her impending absence only mildly dampened Ginny’s spirits, especially since she promised to bring back photos of Draco trying to muggle ice skate. The girl could hardly wait.

The Gryffindors had just finished their last meal before the train would arrive, and a group of them were making their way up to the tower before saying their goodbyes. Ginny’s head was on a swivel, searching through the wandering students from other houses to spot Luna. 

“Ginevra!”

The deep timbre sent a shiver down her back, and she straightened her spine in response, turning to the one who called her.

“Do you need something, Nott?” 

He walked up to her, both his height and his status making it easy to part through the students. 

“Try not to forget your stuff on the quidditch pitch next time, eh? I found these outside the locker rooms, they had your name on them.” 

He shoved an unfamiliar set of gloves into her hands. When she opened her mouth to argue, however, he shot her a look that made her jaw snap shut.

“Uh thanks,” she managed to mutter, and he flashed a braggadocious smile.

His next words were quiet enough that only she could hear them.

“Have a good break.”

He slipped back into the crowd. Ginny shoved the gloves deep into the pockets of her robe and turned to start a conversation with a passing Hufflepuff in a quick attempt to move the attention away from their interaction. 

When she made it back to the safety of her dorm, she extracted the gloves from her pocket and examined them carefully. She admired the brand-new dragon leather gloves with wide eyes, noticing her initials embossed on each wrist in gold. The highest quality, and absolutely beautiful, they must have cost a bloody fortune. Folded within one glove, Ginny found a piece of parchment.

 

Ginevra, I knew you’d never allow me to give these to you, so I devised a plan in which you couldn’t refuse. Don’t bother being mad, you knew what you were getting into hanging around a couple of snakes. Happy Christmas. 

—Theo.

 

Ginny read the note once, twice, a hundred times until she had every word memorized. When she had, she folded it very neatly alongside the gift, placing them both in the bottom corner of her trunk for safe keeping. 

 

Later that night at the Burrow, when her family had gone to sleep, Ginny quietly rummaged around her knapsack until she found the smooth brown leather journal that Hermione had let her borrow for the duration of the break. She pulled a quill out of her bedside table and began to write. 

 

Theodore, 

You’re right, under normal circumstances I never would’ve accepted a gift this generous. Of course, you’re a tosser with a knack for rule breaking, so I’m not surprised that you figured out a way to best me. With that being said, thank you. They’re beautiful, and I can’t wait to wear them when we crush Slytherin in the match next month. Isn’t it frowned upon to supply the enemy with fancy goods? 

-Ginevra

 

Only minutes passed before a response scrawled across the page. 

 

G, I could give every player on the team a new set of gloves and it still won’t help you beat us. Glad you like them anyway. 

-Theo

 

G? I didn’t realize we were in a forming new nickname kind of territory, however I accept it. I shall call you wanker, maybe Wanker, to make it more formal.

Back to the game, you’re wrong. We’ll kick your sorry arses to Surry and back. Don’t worry, I’ll buy you a pint at Hogs Head to help care for the wounded ego. 

 

Wanker? I’m hurt, G. I go out of my way to buy you a Christmas gift and you repay me with a completely unoriginal insult. If you’re going to bully me, at least put some effort into it. 

 

The two continued to banter late into that night, and on and off throughout the following two days. Ginny was fiery, she’d been told it her entire life, and rarely could she find someone that kept up with it the way that Theodore Nott could. 

During the first day, Ginny brought the notebook downstairs with her, but she quickly discovered it was a poor idea. 

“Ginny, another diary?” Fred had groaned. 

“This one better not be writing back to you. You know what dad says about talking to things when you can’t see where their brain should be.”

After that comment, she kept the notebook upstairs in her bedroom, tucked between the mattress and the bed frame. 

 

When she wasn’t busy furiously scribbling comebacks to Theo, she spent time with her brothers. Charlie had taken an extended leave from Romania, and it was nice to have him home again. 

One night, the pair sat side by side in the living room sipping hot chocolate out of mismatched mugs. It was late in the evening, and everyone else had gone to bed. Ginny liked the time she had with him alone best. 

“Somethings different about you,” he spoke calmly as he stared into the fireplace. 

“Different?” Her heart rate quickened, only slightly. “Different how?” 

He turned to look at her, blue eyes meeting blue. 

“I don’t know, exactly. Do you have a boyfriend or something?”

“No!” A hot sensation tingled down her neck. Charlie looked at her smugly. 

“You don’t have one, but you want one?” 

No. He was entirely off his rocker. She didn’t fancy Theodore Nott. She could barely tolerate him. His dumb jokes and his rule breaking and his stupidly perfect hair. No. That was not what was going on here. Not at all. 

“Shut up Charlie.”

He laughed deeply.

“Oh Gin, I just can’t resist teasing you. I’m a moth to a flame, the reactions are too good.” 

“Yeah, yeah, sure, pick on your little sister all you want. I can play this game too, you know. For example, when are you going to man up and make a trip to the Tonks’ residence?” 

The older Weasley’s eyes widened slightly. 

“I don’t know what you’re doing about.”

“That’s a load of bollocks if I’ve ever heard one. Charlie, you’ve been in love with Nymphadora since you were first years. You’ve got to tell her before she gets tired of waiting and finds someone else to marry.”

He doesn’t deny his little sister again. Instead, he crosses his arm and twists his face into something akin to a pout. 

“She’s not interested in me. Not like that, anyway”

“Bullshit.”

Charlie gasped.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley. Language!” 

“If you think that language is bad, I’m afraid for you to hear me on the quidditch pitch,” she deadpanned.  “Seriously, tell her.” 

“I’ll tell her, if you tell me who it is that has your head in such a tizzy this break.”

“It’s no one.”

“Uh huh. Likely story.”

The Weasley siblings stayed in a silent stare down, neither willing to break. 

“Appears we’re in a stalemate,” Charlie spoke at last.

“Looks like it.”

Charlie stood, taking both of their now empty cups in hand. 

“We will continue this conversation tomorrow morning. I don’t give up so easily.”

“Neither do I,” she agreed.

But neither of them knew, then, just what that next morning would bring. 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

She wasn’t entirely sure how she’d made it to St Mungo’s. In her mind, the last several hours were a chaotic blur of shouts and tears. It began when George woke her in the earliest hours of the morning.

“Gin, get up! It’s Da! We need to go!” 

Maybe he was the one who had tugged her through the floo. Or had it been Ron? Fred, maybe? Regardless, there was no way she got here on her own, she barely had it in her to stand on two feet, yet alone navigate a hospital. Currently, she stood in the waiting room of the intensive care unit. Around her, mediwitches scampered from room to room, charts in hand. Everyone spoke in hushed whispers, as if talking in a normal volume would shatter the healing they all hoped would occur. But Ginny didn’t want to whisper. She wanted to take the emotions that roiled and swirled in her stomach and scream until she didn’t feel them anymore. She glanced to the right of her, where Fred and George sat whispering to one another, and then to her left, where Charlie squeezed Ron in a tight hug. She was in the midst of her family, the people that loved her, and somehow, she had never felt more alone. Her feet began moving.

“Ginny! Where are you going?” It was Charlie that called after, but she ignored him. Her feet began moving faster, faster, until she was running aimlessly down hallways and up sets of stairs. It felt like death itself was chasing her, she wouldn’t let him win. 

Finally, when the lungs in her chest seized from an undeniable lack of oxygen, she collapsed into a ball on the floor of the hallway. The sobs wracked her body, and she tucked her chin into her chest, wishing for just a second that the darkness that crept in around her vision would take her altogether. 

“Merlin.” 

She knew that voice, but it sounded so far away. Muted by the screaming in her ears. Who’s screaming?

She felt two arms surround her, then lift her as if she was a small child. 

“Don’t worry, Gin, I’ve got you.” 

In was in that moment she realized that the screaming was her own. As she slowly pulled herself back to consciousness, her curiosity began to leak back into her thoughts. She knew who was carrying her, but she didn’t know what he was doing there. 

At last, she opened her swollen eyes, blinking up through the harsh hospital lighting to meet a concerned brown gaze.

“Theo,” she croaked. “What are you doing here?”

 

The boy didn’t answer her. Instead, he continued to walk down the otherwise empty hallway as she clung to him like a lifeline. He kept loping forward until they entered another waiting room, this one far less busy than the one Ginny had ran from. Theo stopped, lowering Ginny to the ground so she could stand on her own. She looked up at him warily, so many questions swimming through her mind. She was sure he had questions of his own, too. 

“Where are we?” 

“The memory care unit.” Theo uttered the sentence with a solemn expression, but his lips twitched slightly, like he was trying to hold back a frown. From deep within her memories, Ginny brought forward the whispered conversations she’d heard about Theo in passing most of her life. 

‘He’s an orphan, but not really. His parents don’t want him, so they ship him off to the Malfoy’s. What a shame.’

In all the months of their friendship, she’d never asked him the truth of his upbringing. She’d never found the right time, or so she claimed, but really it was because she was afraid that the truth would infuriate her. Theo was funny, kind, and loyal, and his parents of all people should’ve been able to see how wonderful he was. Maybe, she realized with a jolt, there was more to the story than the rumors let on.

“Theo,” her voice trembled. “Why are we here?” 

He hefted a great sigh, one that embodied pain beyond his years, and then his eyes shifted down to hers. 

“Let’s take a seat, I have some things to tell you.” 

 

Ginny didn’t make a singular noise as the truth flowed out of Theo’s mouth. She tracked every word with the same intensity that she would watch a World Cup game. When he was finished, he stared at the ground between them in an uncomfortable silence. 

“Look at me.” 

She sounded far softer than she felt, but she took the rash anger she possessed for his father and channeled it towards compassion for the boy before her. She knew why he wouldn’t look at her, it was the same reason why she wouldn’t look at Hermione after Ginny told her that she couldn’t afford a new dress for the Yule Ball. No one wanted to see pity staring back at them. Theo’s eyes flicked up towards the red head, his entire body tensed in preparation, but he relaxed when their gazes met. He could find pity from a lot of people, but not her. 

“Thank you for telling me.” 

He nodded. She took a deep breath and then forced the next truth past her lips.

“I’m here because my dad got attacked last night, by a giant snake.” 

Theo’s eyes widened in horror. 

“He’s in—” Ginny swallowed back the tears. “He’s in pretty rough shape.” 

Theo rose out of his chair and pulled Ginny into his arms faster than she thought possible.

“I’m sorry, that’s terrible,” Theo’s low voice was muffled as he spoke into her hair. 

“How can I help?” 

“You’re helping right now,” Ginny admitted, although it was painful to do so. Even at her lowest points she yearned to be strong enough to handle her problems alone. 

“Have you told Hermione and Draco?” 

“No.”

“What did you tell me once? That we don’t have to face our problems alone?” 

“I don’t recall saying that.”

Theo huffed slightly. 

“Seems a bit hypocritical of you, Ginevra, but I’ll let it slide since you’re in crisis.”

He leaned back slightly to look down at her.

“Does your family know where you are? They’re probably mad with worry.” 

Ginny shrugged her shoulders. 

“If they were that worried mum would’ve sent a patronus looking for me. I think they know that I need some space. Something to distract me.”

Theo mulled over her words for only a moment, and then a slow smile spread across his face.

“One distraction coming up.”

He began moving quickly down another hallway, tugging Ginny along behind him. 

“Theo, please tell me we aren’t doing a prank. I know you think you’re hilarious, but this is a hospital, and it’s Christmas. Have some semblance of couth.” 

“I think I’m hilarious?” He scoffed. “I am hilarious, Ginevra. And no, we are not pranking the memory ward. Even I know a line not to cross when I see it.”

The boy came to a screeching halt in front of a patient room and Ginny nearly stumbled into his back. Before she could ask what they were doing, Theo’s fist rapped twice on the door frame. The door opened quickly, and a broad-shouldered teenage boy stepped out, shutting it behind him. 

“Hey Nev.”

Theo’s voice was cheery like he was greeting an old friend. He stuck out his hand and the boy shook it willingly.

“Hi mate.” He did a double take when he saw who was standing behind him.

“Ginny?”

“Neville?” Ginny’s voice was incredulous. 

“You two know each other?”

The boys in front of her glanced at one another and then looked at her sheepishly. 

“Yes,” Theo said after a beat. “Nev and I are friends.” 

When Neville nodded his head in agreement Ginny’s jaw dropped open. 

“How? When? What?” 

“Neville and I see one another most holidays together. Here.” 

Theo stared at Ginny, imploring her to understand the deeper meaning to his words. Luckily, she was a perceptive girl, and she remembered the words her mother had once told her. 

“Treat Neville very kindly, do you hear me Ginevra? He’s been through a lot. His parents were tortured nearly to death, they hardly know who he is now. An absolute tragedy, they were quite lovely people.”

She looked at the two boys in front of her, so different and yet so similar. They watched her warily. 

“Theo, what was that distraction you were mentioning?”

Theo breathed out a small sigh and then grinned. 

“Ah, yes, keeping me on track. How good of you, Ginevra.” 

Neville’s head turned between the two of them.

“Wait, we’re not nearly finished with this conversation. How do you two know each other?” 

“We don’t.” 

Theo’s quick response stung in Ginny’s chest, but she contained the emotions. Of course, they couldn’t tell Neville. They couldn’t tell anyone. 

“I found her in the hallway, her dad’s been admitted. I told her I’d help her find a distraction. You’re a lion, she’s a lion, it only made sense to bring her here.” 

Theo’s explanation oozed confidence, but something in the way Neville looked at him proved that he knew it was a lie. The Gryffindor boy didn’t comment on it, though. Ginny found herself immensely grateful for his ability to let some questions lay buried.

After three games of exploding snap, during which Ginny and Theo had to pretend that they knew nothing about one another, the redhead decided that it was time for her to return back to her family. Theo offered to walk her back, claiming she might get lost. Ginny knew that Neville didn’t believe that either, but again he kept his mouth shut. She’d have to buy him a birthday present for that kind of restraint. 

The second they were out of view, Theo wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed once. 

“Thanks Theo,” Ginny mumbled, looking down at the floor. “I don’t really like asking for help, and I just—thanks.” 

“You don’t have to thank me for anything. I know the current circumstances suck, but honestly, I’d kind of been dreading this day. Normally on Christmas I only stay here for a bit and then I go back to the manor to open presents with Draco, but since he’s not in the country it felt weird to spend it with his parents. I didn’t want to see my father, so I was just going to stay here.”

“Alone?”

“Well, not entirely. I mean, mum’s here.”

He choked back the emotion in his throat.

“And Nev would’ve been some company, but it was nice to have you. It’s…nice to have a friend.” 

Dammit Ginny, don’t cry. Don’t. Cry. 

The girl blinked away the tears that were forming and said rather gruffly.

“You were right.” 

“What do ya mean?” He scrunched his face in confusion. 

“You told me once, that you would grow on me. You were right. Stupid blighter.”

Theo coughed out a laugh and then slung his arm around her shoulder, former traces of his sadness hidden once again. 

“Of course I was right. We’ll be best friends before you know it, Ginevra.” 

Maybe they already were.

Both thought it, but neither spoke the words. Falling into a comfortable silence until they reached their destination.

Chapter 33

Ginny entered the emergency waiting room, and was nearly brought to the ground by a busy head of brown curls.

“Ginny!”

“Mione? What are you doing here?”

“After you owled me the news, I found the nearest floo!”

Hermione spoke loudly so that all around them could hear, and then she leaned forward and whispered into Ginny’s ear.

“Theo used the notebooks. Don’t be mad, he was only trying to help.”

“Where is Draco?” Ginny murmured.

“Meeting Theo and taking him back to the Manor.”

The redhead nodded, tugging her friend back into a hug.

“Thank you for coming. I’m sorry that this is cutting your vacation short. How long are you staying?”

“If you think I’m leaving your side until this is over and your dad is back home then you’re madder than a March hare.”

“A what?”

“Muggle reference, nevermind. Point is, Gin, I’m not going anywhere. And you say the word, and Draco and Theo will be here too. Under disguising potion of course, we actually crafted an entire plan to make it work if you need all of us.”

Tears welled in the corners of Ginny’s eyes. She was tired of crying.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Yes, actually, we do.” Hermione’s tone was low and stern.

“You are our friend. We are here for you no matter what.”

“And what about Ron?”

“Harry’s taking care of Ron, and I’m taking care of you.”

Hermione was true on her word. She stuck by Ginny’s side for every tearful update from Molly, held her hand when they first saw Arthur wrapped in bandages, and forced the girl to eat and drink despite her stomach being in a constant set of knots. In addition to Hermione’s presence, Ginny received messages from Theo and Draco in the notebook nearly every hour. Draco with encouragement, and Theo with corny jokes.

 

The rest of Christmas break passed quickly for the family. Arthur made slow progress each day, and he was finally released to the comfort of the Burrow on New Year’s Day. Despite her protests, Ginny sent Hermione back to Malfoy Manor several days after her arrival, insisting that she deserved time there. As far as Ron and Harry knew, their friend was back with her parents. By this point, Ginny was so familiar with the lie that it almost didn’t even feel like one.

But now, in the quiet of her room, without the constant noise of St Mungo’s, Ginny once again felt the sour tinge of fear creep in around her. The anxiety that she so actively shoved away from her thoughts threatened to overtake everything. Her father had been lucky, but what about the next time? Who would it be? Who wouldn’t make it out of this war alive?

In a sign of weakness, or maybe acceptance, she pulled brown notebook out from its hidden spot under her mattress.

Theo,

I need a distraction.

 

The Goblin wars of 1504 were initiated based on illegitimate silver trades between two tribes.

…Did you just quote the textbook of my least favorite subject?

You asked for a distraction, you did not tell me what kind of distraction. If anything, this is a lesson for you in specificity.

You’re an utter prat.

And yet here we are, talking anyway.

Theo…

Yes?

I think I’m afraid.

Everyone gets scared sometimes, G. Even lions like you. But fear isn’t a weakness, I think that trying to deny its existence is.

What if something bad happens again?

Then we’ll handle it.

We’re just kids. How are we supposed to take on a war?

Together. I’m using your own words on you here, but you’re never alone in this. You have your family, and Harry and Hermione, and Draco.

Oh really? That’s all I have?

Fishing for better answers, Ginevra?

Simply doing a bit of truth seeking, Theodore.

Ha.

Well, if you so insist, then I suppose I must mention that you also have me. And I’m the best weapon you have.

Oh really? And why is that?

  Because I’m not afraid to break rules to keep you safe. We’ll get out of this alive, Ginny, I promise.

 

The breath caught in her throat, and she snapped the notebook shut.

Shit.

She knew that feeling, the butterflies that flittered around in her stomach and the nervous sweat that now covered her palms. Her face was warm, blushing, even.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

This couldn’t happen. What’s worse, he’d never want it to happen. He was Theodore Nott for Godric’s sake, basically royalty, and she was the seventh child of traitorous purebloods. She couldn’t entertain this idea for even a moment, there was too much at stake. She opened the notebook with shaking hands.

 

Thanks, Theo. You’re a good friend.

 

Ginny was glad that the notebooks only relayed ink, and Theo was unable to see the splotches of tears that accompanied her note on the page.

 

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Unlike years before, Hermione returned to Hogwarts after break even more tired than she was when she had left. She didn’t regret her time with Ginny and the others, they had needed her. But a selfish, albeit small, part of her yearned for the restful vacation with Draco that she had planned.

What was worse, was that she arrived at Hogwarts only to find that at least a dozen new decrees had been posted. No sweets, no brooms, no laughter, no students within six inches of each other. Everywhere they went, a rule was to follow, and they had become so thorough, that it was now nearly impossible for Hermione and the others to meet in the alcove without risk of being caught. Between DA meetings, quidditch practices, prefect patrol, and inquisitorial squad, there left little time for clandestine meetings. Instead, the four friends were left to longing looks at one another as they passed in the halls.

“I can’t do this anymore!”

Hermione flopped herself down on Ginny’s dorm bed one Sunday afternoon. Her roommates were down in the common room, as were Harry and Ron, but Hermione couldn’t find it in herself to feign off her melancholy state.

“Do what?”

Ginny’s head was leaned back over the frame, her hair cascading down like an auburn river.

“I already can’t sit next to him in class, or eat with him in the great hall, or tell any of those snooty Slytherin girls that he isn’t available for marriage contracts. The only thing that we had were secret meetings in a dusty forgotten corner of the castle, and now we don’t even have those!”

Ginny rose out of her position to look at her friend. She almost looked amused.

“I know you’re a lot of things, Mione, but I never thought a whiner would be one of them.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped open.

“Gin!”

“No,” her friend raised a hand. “I’m not going to hear it. You’re Hermione Bloody Granger. So Umbridge took away the library, so what? We figure out a different way to meet. I know there’s already a half-formulated plan in that oversized brain of yours just yearning to be free. Let it out, break some rules, and fix it.”

Hermione’s teeth snapped together. She was quiet, for only a second, and then she nodded her head firmly.

“You’re right. I’m going to fix it.”

A smile bloomed across Ginny’s face.

“That’s my girl.”

She tugged her up from the bed and gave a gentle shove towards the door.

“Go! Read your books or whatever you brilliant people do to create plans. In the meantime, I’ll gather the boys for an impromptu meeting.”

“And how will you do that? Just waltz into the Slytherin common room with a roll call?”

Ginny’s smile grew impossibly wider.

“Oi! Ye of little faith. Fred and George may have the official titles, but they’re not the only troublemakers in the Weasley family. I’ll use a distraction.”

“Somehow that’s both encouraging and discouraging to hear.”  

“Well, I do love a good contradiction.”

“You’re exasperating.”

“I think you mean excellent.”

“I think you’ve been spending too much time with Theo.”

“You’re probably right. Bit of a dodgy character, don’t you think? Entirely unfit to be friends with a bunch of Gryffindors.”

“I—nevermind.”

Ginny was still laughing long after her friend had left.

 

It was several hours later, when all of the students were in the Great Hall for dinner, when it began. Hermione should’ve known what was happening from the first popping noise that occurred near the Slytherin table. A frog had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, directly next to Pansy Parkinson’s bowl of soup. Her squeal was heard across the cavernous space. Not a minute later, a second frog appeared, and then a third, fourth, fifth. The frogs began popping up on all of the tables, clamoring out of gravy boats and hopping onto the shoulders of unsuspecting students. The dinner became an absolute madhouse, one in which Dolores Umbridge could not gain control.  Teenagers began running in every which direction, for they quickly discovered that every frog that was touched immediately became two. Frogs were being hurled through the air and dropped from the sky, and the cacophony of ribbets was almost as loud as the screaming kids themselves.

“SILENCE!!” Umbridge’s shouts went unanswered.

Finally, Dumbledore stepped forward, calmly, and snapped his fingers. All of the frogs in the room froze, and then, in a burst of color, returned to their real state, as buttons. His eyes, sparkling with mirth, flashed up towards the now quiet students in various states of disarray. He cleared his throat.

“My apologies, it appears I’ve had a frog in my throat.”

Weak laughter flittered through the room, but everyone was otherwise silent.

“Albus!” Dolores screeched. “Do something! Punish them!”

“Punish, who, exactly, Dolores?” He inquired.

“It appears to me, that someone practicing their transfiguration had a bit of a nasty backfire. Unpleasant, yes, but insidious? I think not.”

“You cannot be serious!” She huffed. “They did it! They all did it!”

He raised a white eyebrow at her.

“You want me to believe all the students in this hall conspired together to prank…themselves? My my, Dolores, I think that the events of the evening have made you a bit confused. Perhaps a proper night of rest is in order.”

“But I-“

“Truly, I insist. Return to your quarters for a peaceful evening, I’m sure the staff and I can alleviate this mess and get the students back to their dormitories.”

Once again, she huffed, but didn’t argue further. Instead, she straightened her shoulders and primly walked towards the back exit.

Dumbledore turned back towards the students.

“Well, I suppose that dinner is over,” he supplied evenly. “Students may return to your common rooms, or perhaps visit the library.”

The stare he shot in Ginny Weasley’s direction was so knowing that she could have melted on the spot.

 

Quickly students began filtering back towards their houses.

“I’m going to the library!” Hermione announced abruptly to Harry and Ron, who both shook their heads but did not argue her. She moved quickly down the hallways, her anticipation growing with each step. When she rounded the final corner into the alcove, her heart nearly beat out of her chest at the sight of three familiar bodies already seated.

“Sweet Salazar, Ginevra,” Theo spoke through peals of laughter. “How did you bloody do it? That was the best transfiguration work I’ve seen in years.”

“Maybe this will teach you not to doubt me, Theodore,” she spoke with a cheeky grin.

“It really was brilliant,” Draco added in. I thought Pansy was going to have a heart attack after that first frog, and then they just kept coming.”

“I know you said distraction,” Hermione interjected, and all three heads turned to her arrival. “But I wasn’t expecting that big of one.”

“What can I say, I love a bit a chaos.”

“Does Dumbledore know you did it?” Theo asked and she groaned.

“Yes! Did you see the way he looked at me when he gave that speech at the end? I immediately thought I was busted, but then he just played it off. He must know far more about what goes on in this school than I thought he did.”

“He’s the greatest wizard to ever live, Gin,” Draco nearly scoffed. “You’re good, sure, but he’s better.”

“Whatever!” She declared, leaning back in her seat and kicking her feet up onto the table.

“Mission accomplished, we’re all together.”

“Together,” the others agreed. Draco wrapped his arm around Hermione, and Theo began tapping on Ginny’s shoes with his quill, a playful expression on his face.

The group dove back into their regular laughter and banter, and for a moment, they let themselves forget about Umbridge’s rules, their secrets, and the looming threat of war. For the night, they were just teenagers; friends, and they’d take what they could get.

Chapter 34

The Slytherin vs Gryffindor quidditch match was all that anyone in Hogwarts wanted to talk about. Everyone, except for Hermione.

The idea of her best friends going up against her soulmate and unofficial brother made her stomach tumble in uneasy circles. Quidditch was brutal, the last match had been proof of that, and she was frightened by the prospects of what could happen when a lion picked a fight with a snake.

Hermione walked to the pitch with the other Gryffindors, trying to ignore the dull ache that thudded inside her skull. The headache was just from nerves, and she was worrying about nothing. The entire staff would be in attendance that day, and she knew that McGonagall would never let something happen to Harry or Ginny, just like Professor Snape would allow no harm to come to Draco or Theo. She was just overreacting; an unfortunate circumstance of loving them is all.

She settled into her seat between Ron and Neville, dizzying herself from trying to keep track of four different players on the pitch. It was only warmups, for Merlin’s sake, and she was nauseous. She rested her head on the railing of the stands and let out a groan.

“Oh come on, ‘Mione,” Ron yelled beside her, placing a hand on her back in a gesture of support.

“You’d love it if you gave it a chance!”

Unbeknownst to the girl, who grumbled at her friend’s statements, Draco watched them from above the pitch, jealous rage stirring in his stomach.

“Oi! Malfoy!”

He blinked, his eyes focusing on the red clad figure now floating beside him.

“What do you want, Weaselette?” The envy he was trying to reign in presented itself in an angry sneer towards the girl, and she leaned on her broom to move several inches backwards.

“Don’t worry about them,” she whispered quickly.

“You know she only cares about you.”

Her eyes then darted to Harry who was zooming towards them.

“I’m just here to tell you to play a fair game!” She amplified her tone as the wizard neared.

“No stealing beater bats!”

“Fair game?” Draco huffed, “says the girl who probably had to rob Gringotts to afford the gloves she’s wearing?”

 

The boy immediately regretted his words, when he saw hurt flash in his friend’s eyes.

“Don’t talk to her like that, Malfoy!” Harry roared, advancing forward, but Theo, seemingly out of nowhere, had flown in to block his path.

“Now, now, chosen one, let’s take it easy. I’ve been waiting for this game all year and I’m not about to let your pompous attitude ruin it before the whistle’s even blown. Beat the piss out of each other on your own time, eh?”

Harry gritted his teeth and nodded, turning his broom back to where the Gryffindor beaters were warming up.

“Come on, Ginny.”

She watched Draco with narrowed eyes, and then shook her head slightly before following him.

Draco turned to Theo, relief evident on his features.

“Thanks, mate.”

“Piss off,” Theo muttered, and Draco raised his brows in disbelief.

“What? What did I do?”

“Don’t run your mouth about things you know nothing about. I got her those gloves, you bloody idiot.”

Draco’s eyes widened, but before he could say anything, Theo was also gone.

The disappointment rose like bile in his throat. He couldn’t do anything right. His friends were mad at him, and his own betrothed was being soothed by a red headed git before his very eyes. He tried to push back the negativity, but the thoughts raced through his brain, clouding his judgment. The adrenaline fused with the annoyance and guilt in his bloodstream, creating a dangerous fuel for the inferno that raged within.

Fine.

He thought to himself.

If I can’t be the good guy, I’ll be the bad guy. It’s what they all think of me, anyway, might as well prove it to be true.

From a stadium away, Hermione could sense the emotions emanating off of Draco. Her headache came back in full, and she forced puffs of air through her already tense lungs. This was not good; this was really not good.

She was right.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Ginny was mad, furious, in fact. It was the kind of anger that boiled in the marrow of her bones and itched beneath her skin, the kind that wouldn’t be put to rest until she let it out.

It all started during that bloody quidditch game. Draco had been a prat from the very beginning. She knew this his ire stemmed from jealousy, but that didn’t fix the fact that he was calling out anyone and everyone, using his fine-tuned acting skills to the detriment of all involved.

She still wasn’t entirely sure what he’d said to Harry to get him so angry, but before anyone really knew what was happening the pair was at each other’s throats on the field. Of course, Theo, despite his own annoyance, went down to try to break it up, and then Fred and George decided to play back up, and suddenly half of both teams were involved in the tussle.

By the end of it, the game was called off, and Harry and the twins were banned from quidditch indefinitely, per Dumbridge’s new and completely unfounded authority.

Ginny stared at the placard that had magically appeared outside of the Great Hall conveying the new information, a scowl on her face. She was still in her quidditch uniform, caked with mud from when she had tried to pry her own brothers off of Theo. Her right eye socket throbbed from a poorly landed punch she’d received in the midst of it, and when she rubbed it she noticed that her nails were speckled with dried flakes of bloods from unknown origin. The hallway was quiet, as most students had chosen to return to their common rooms for the evening, but the remaining ones gave her a wide breadth of space. Her rage must have been evident to everyone; she didn’t care in the slightest.

“Ginny!”

The muscles in her back clenched with the sound of two pairs of feet clamoring toward her. She didn’t turn around when she replied.

“Fred. George. Leave me alone.”

“What?”

“Oh, come on, Gin, don’t be a spoilsport. You know it’s a rough game—”

The girl had enough. She spun around to face her siblings with a thunderous glint in her gaze.

“I told you to get away from me,” she growled. The pair didn’t back down.

“You should’ve heard what he said to him, Ginny! Malfoy is a monster!”

“Malfoy is a petulant child who pokes and prods until he gets his way. You let him provoke you, all of you. And now look at what you did! No more quidditch!”

“Oh please,” Fred scoffed, “Dumbledore could overrule that decree in an instant.”

“But he won’t!” Ginny was yelling now, and the release of energy felt good enough to continue.

“He’s not going to condone the reckless behaviors of teenage boys, Fred! You’re done. Both of you. Let that sink in for a moment.”

“It’s just a game, Ginny.”

“Yeah, and what Malfoy said was just words, George.”

“Be careful, little sister,” Fred spoke lowly. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were siding with the Slytherin.”

“I’m siding with common sense!” She took a terse breath and ran a hand through her hair.

“You know what? Forget it. I told you to leave me alone and you didn’t listen. I’m not having this conversation with either of you.”

“Don’t be a baby about this.”

“If you think that I was the one that was childish today, Fred, I think you need rethink your choices.”

She didn’t bother saying goodbye, they didn’t either.

 

The fight with her brothers didn’t quell the angst that churned through her stomach, instead it only amplified it. With shaking hands clutched in fists she marched into the infirmary. All of the Gryffindors had already been treated and discharged, but Draco and Theo were still there. They’d taken the blunt of the blows and therefore required an overnight stay. Ginny nodded briefly to Madam Pomfrey, who paid her little attention, and then she shoved back the curtains to reveal three familiar faces.

Theo was sitting on a bed, a pack of ice resting on what appeared to be a newly healed nose. Across the room, Draco laid in bed, his resetting arm in a sling, and Hermione sat in a chair beside him, her arms crossed and a frown on her face.

“Ginny…” Hermione’s voice trailed off, as she recognized the fury in her gaze. Ginny ignored her.

“Draco Lucius Malfoy,” the redhead whispered angrily, storming forward.

“What. The. Fuck.”

“Piss off, Gin,” Draco groaned. “I was just beat to a pulp on the field, can you save your rant for another time?”

“No, actually, I can’t. Because there isn’t going to be another time.”

Draco raised a brow at her.

“What?”

“I can’t do this anymore. I’m not going to sit back and let you play the villain, put my own bloody family at risk, when you’re willing to start a ruckus like an immature tadpole every time someone so much as goes near Hermione. You’re better than that, Draco.”

Draco scoffed at Ginny, making her heart rate soar even higher.

“I’m just acting exactly like the person everyone thinks I am.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” she spoke through gritted teeth.

“I don’t think that of you, Hermione doesn’t, Theo doesn’t. We all know who you are Draco. Well, at least, I thought I did.”

“Yeah, maybe you were wrong.”

She flinched, just slightly, but Hermione caught it and tried to intervene.

“Draco, you don’t mean that.”

“No,” he turned to his girlfriend next. “I think I do. Everyone wants me to be the bad guy? Then I’ll be the bad guy. It doesn’t bloody matter what I do anyway, we’re on opposite sides of a WAR. People will hate me because they don’t know me, and if they do know me, they won’t believe me. There’s no point.”

“No point?” Hermione spoke quietly. “Are we not enough of a point for you?”

She rose suddenly, swiping away tears that formed in the corners of her eyes.

“You know what, Draco? I’m tired of chasing after you, I’m tired of convincing you that your life and your family are worth fighting for. Most of all, I’m tired of you thinking that I could even possibly fancy someone else, when you know damn well that you’re it for me. I know who I am, I know my own worth, and maybe it’s time you find your own. Come and find me when you pull your head out of your ass!”

The Gryffindor began to pace quickly towards the door, stopping briefly to look back at Ginny.

“Give him hell, Ginny.”

Ginny glanced at Draco. An emotion flashed in his eyes, but he cooled it quickly. He was occluding, she could tell, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of not feeling anything. She wasn’t going to take apathy for an answer.

“You’re a real blighter, you know that?”

Draco shrugged his good shoulder.

“I was called a lot worse than that on the field. If you’re going to insult me, Weasley, you’ll have to try harder than that.”

An unexpected laugh burst from her lips.

“Oh! Last names, now? How rich. Alright, Malfoy,” she nearly spit the name at him.

“Hermione’s right, but she wasn’t thorough. You’re an ass, sure, but you’re an even bigger coward. You’re letting all of us fight your battles for you, stand up for you even when we shouldn’t, and you’re too big of a dolt to do anything about it! You need to figure your own shit out, and I hope to Merlin that you do before it’s too late.”

 

She steeled her shoulders and turned to go.

“Ginny, what do you mean you’re done? Where are you going?” 

It was Theo who asked now, the exhaustion evident in his voice.

“It means we all need some space,” Ginny spoke quieter now, the edge in her voice now replaced by something sadder.

“I’ll keep your secrets, I always will, but I can’t be in the middle anymore. If Draco’s not willing to fix things, neither am I. I have to protect Hermione, Theo. If he’s not going to then someone has to.”

“Drake, come on mate, say something! You don’t really mean this!”

But Draco remained silent and glowering, despite his friend’s protests.

Theo groaned, his head flopping into his hands.

“I’ll see you around, Theo,” Ginny whispered, and he nodded his head without looking up. The girl walked briskly back to Gryffindor Tower, hoping that goodbye wasn’t nearly as permanent as it had just felt.

Chapter 35

Days of silence stretched to weeks. Hermione was barely functioning, and Ginny wasn’t far off either. The girls moped around the hallways, unwilling to look up towards passing students in fear that they’d meet a stare they weren’t ready to face.

Harry and Ron had noticed, as had the other Gryffindors, but the girls had every excuse in the book for their foul mood.

“OWLs are only one month away!” Hermione would mutter.

“We’ll never win a quidditch game again,” Ginny snapped to anyone who would ask.

Truth be told, neither girl cared about OWLs or quidditch, although under normal circumstances it would be their primary concerns. No, their thoughts were preoccupied by two Slytherins that were incredibly close but somehow so far away.

 

Ginny sat alone at a library table, scribbling doodles into the margins of her textbook.

Hermione was off at prefect rounds, and she couldn’t find it in herself to sit in the rowdy Gryffindor common room without her. The redhead was lost in her thoughts, humming quietly to herself, and a gentle throat clearing made her head jolt up in surprise.

She was both relieved and disappointed when her eyes registered the dark blue robes standing before her.

“Hi Ginny.”

Michael Corner stood a meter away, and he sent her a timid smile. She’d seen Michael around the castle for years, had even partnered with him in herbology a few times, but she couldn’t recall a time outside of class when he’d approached her.

“Hi Michael.”

“Can I sit you? I mean, can I sit with you?”

The corner of her mouth lifted in a wry smile. He was kind of cute, in a nervous bumbling sort of way.

“Sure.”

He promptly sat down and began pulling out homework supplies.

“So, why are you alone in the library?” She asked, and his eyes flashed up towards hers.

“I could ask the same thing to you.”

He grinned, and she liked the way his warm brown eyes crinkled up in the corners.

“Pretty girls like you don’t normally hang out alone. I had to take my chance while I had one.”

Ginny blinked.

“Michael Corner, are you flirting with me?”

He let out a laugh.

“Merlin, am I so bad at it that you have to ask? My apologies, I must be rustier than I thought.”

“No—you’re not—I mean—“

It was Ginny’s turn to fumble over her words, and his smile grew incrementally wider.

“You’re even prettier when you blush.”

“Don’t do that!”

“Do what? Flirt with you? I can’t help myself.”

She looked down at her hands, biting back a smile.

“I’m just going to pretend you’re not here.”

“Fine, I’ll sit back and enjoy the view.”

She snorted and glanced back at him.

“You’re right,” he agreed easily, “that was a bit much. I’ll lay off for the night.”

He started into his homework, and the pair was quiet for several minutes. Just long enough until Ginny couldn’t hold back the question lodged in her throat.

“What do you mean for the night?”

He raised a brow at her playfully.

“It means you’re saved from my horrendous attempts at flirting for the evening, but all bets are off for tomorrow.”

She opened her mouth, maybe to argue, but

shut it just as quickly. Although she didn’t want to admit it, she was enjoying his company. It was the first time since the last quidditch match that the lump in her chest dissolved, just a bit. Unlike her friendship with Theo and Draco, she was allowed to be seen in public with Michael. He was even a fellow member of the DA! Her brothers might be mad, sure, but only in an overprotective familial way. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that Michael was a safe choice, and maybe, she needed to be a little less reckless.

“Well then I look forward to what tomorrow brings.”

Michael smiled at her again, and she smiled back, choosing to ignore the lack of butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

 

The next evening, Corner stood true to his word. He showed up in the library, no books in hand, simply to be a ‘handsome distraction.’ Each day, he returned, and by the end of the week, Ginny almost anticipated his arrival.

On Saturday morning, the Great Hall was full of students. Ginny was squished between a seemingly famished Ron and a morose Hermione.

“Ron, stop elbowing me!”

“I’m just trying to cut my sausage!”

“And don’t speak with your mouth full! We were raised in the same household, I know you were taught better manners than this.”

“Oh have I offended your delicate sensibilities, Gin?”

“Oi! Don’t be a git!”

Ron, abandoning his efforts of eating altogether, trapped his sister in a headlock at the table. The Gryffindors surrounding them paid little attention, as a Weasley family fight was frequent to them. Even Hermione, who normally would break up the pair for Ginny’s benefit, didn’t do anything.

Ginny struggled for a bit, demanding to be let go. When that didn’t work, she did as all little sisters would do and attempted to sink her teeth into his forearm.

“HEY! No biting!” Ron dropped her with a shout. Ginny was about to go back in for another attack when an amused voice interjected.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Ginny’s head turned to the sound, and she smiled.

“Yes, actually, I’m about to clobber my dearest brother to pieces. Care to watch?”

Michael Corner’s guffaw quickly drew Ron’s attention.

“Corner? What are you doing here?”

“Good morning, Weasley,” he said cheerily.

“I’m just here to ask Ginny out on a date.”

“Oh okay….wait, what?!”

Ron’s jaw fell open.

“You—my—but—no! No!”

The Ravenclaw bit the inside of his cheek to hold back his grin.

“No? Hm, that’s funny, I don’t really recall asking you for permission.”

His eyes shifted to Ginny, burning with an unasked question.

“Your sister, on the other hand…”

“What did you have in mind, Corner?”

He let the smile break onto his face.

“Thought you might fancy a bit of flying. I booked the pitch for tonight.”

Ginny’s eyes lit in excitement.

“You sure know the way to a girl’s heart.”

“I don’t know if I’d agree with that, but I am trying to work my way towards yours.”

“Ugh! No, stop. I can’t take this.” Ron stood suddenly.

“I’ve lost my appetite entirely.”

“Sit back down, you big goof,” Ginny retorted. “Your dramatics are appreciated, truly, but I know you’re starving. That’s how this whole fight started and I’m not dealing with a hungry brother before lunch time.”

“Then stop flirting in front of me,” he grumbled, sitting back down. “It’s disconcerting.”

“Wow, Ronald, that’s a high dollar vocabulary word. All that studying for OWLs must have paid off.”

Several heads at the table whipped towards the voice of the quip.

“HERMIONE!” Ginny broke the shocked silence. “A joke?!”

Hermione looked up at her, a small smile on her face.

“I have been known to be funny on occasion.”

“You’re funny on more than just occasion, ‘Mione. We missed it. We—” Ginny trailed off, suddenly unsure of how to continue, but Hermione reached out and grasped her hand in a comforting gesture.

“I get it. Also, don’t worry about our plans later tonight, go on the date.” She looked behind her towards the Ravenclaw.

“You be good to her, Michael, or I’ll hex your bollocks off.”

“She means that!” Ron added loudly.

“Ginny might have six brothers, but it’s Hermione you should really be afraid of.”

The rest of the table murmured their agreements and Corner nodded.

“Noted.”

His eyes went back to Ginny.

“But I’m up for the challenge.”

 

Across the hall, Theo watched the Gryffindor table with an unusual feeling in his stomach. If his assessment was correct, Ginny was being asked on a date by some Ravenclaw chump. Corter? Correy? Something like that.

He’d noticed the boy chatting her up over the past week, he’d even seen him transfigure a homework assignment into a paper bouquet the day before. Judging by the smile on her face, she’d told him yes. The problem was that Theo didn’t know why that unheard yes was bothering him so much. It was swirling between his ears and digging itself into his brain, almost made him sick just thinking of it. Normally he’d talk to Draco about what he was feeling, but he had yet to regain speaking terms with his idiot of a best friend. To say the past several weeks had been lonely was an understatement. He hadn’t realized just how much he relied on his friends until they weren’t there anymore. He knew this was just a row, that Draco would pull his head out of his ass eventually, but the waiting was going to drive him mad.

Draco, sodding tosser that he was, had been skipping public meals altogether, getting Poppy to deliver food to their dorm. Maybe it was the lack of his friend or the smug look on that Ravenclaw’s face, but Theo had reached his breaking point. His fingers gripped around his wand, and he discreetly pulled it out and pointed at Hermione.

“Murmuro Distantia”

The tip of his wand glowed.

“Granger, meet me in the room of requirement.”

The boy rose suddenly and turned towards the exit doors. He didn’t dare look back to see if she followed.

He was only alone in the room for a minute, before she burst in behind him.

“Where is he? What’s wrong!”

“Who the hell was that boy talking to Ginny?”

Hermione blinked at Theo, and then, in an unexpected display of emotion, she laughed.

“You fancy her.”

“I do not!” Theo snapped.

“I just want to know who he is…and how she’s doing, and how you’re doing…Hermione, this sucks.” He sat down on a nearby seat and ran fingers through his lush brown hair.

“I know,” she agreed, sitting next to him.

“It totally sucks.”

“Could you just…” he trailed off, unsure of how to continue.

“Could I just, what? Forgive him? Of course. If we’re being honest, Theo, I already have. But if I let this go, it’ll just come up again. You know that. Draco thinks so little of himself that his coping mechanism is to ruin things, but I’m not going to let him think like that anymore. I’m not going to let him destroy himself.”

“But he’s destroying himself already! He only leaves the room for class, he barely shows up to quidditch practice, and we aren’t even speaking. I wrote Cissa begging her to allow Poppy onto school grounds to feed him, and that was nearly as difficult as getting a First Order of Merlin. She’s worried about him. So is Lucius.”

“We’re all worried about him,” Hermione echoed.

It was quiet for a moment, and then,

“The boy that’s Ginny’s been talking with is Michael Corner.”

Theo’s mouth turned down into a scowl.

“Fucking Ravenclaws,” he muttered.

“Are you sure you don’t fancy her?”

Theo glanced up to argue again, but her knowing smile gave him pause.

“Don’t tell her. Don’t tell anyone. I’ll get over it.”

She arched a brow.

“Get over it? Why in the world would you do that?”

“We can’t be together Hermione. Just drop it, we have bigger matters to discuss, such as how to fix Draco.”

“We can’t fix him. Only he can fix himself.”

Theo flopped backwards on the chair in defeat.

“But when is he going to bloody do that? I don’t have the patience for this, Granger.”

“He’s going to figure it out, Theo. I know it. I believe in him.”

Theo gazed at his friend warily.

“Even when he doesn’t believe in himself?”

“Even then. Most importantly, then.”

Chapter 36

Draco didn’t know if he’d ever felt this miserable. It was as if a shroud had been pulled over his eyes, and he saw everything through a lens of hazy gray. The occlusion didn’t help, it only amplified the problem. Not only did he see things in ashy hues, but he felt them in that way, too.

He had fucked things up so badly, and he wasn’t sure how to rectify it. The longer the time went, he started to believe that there wasn’t a way to fix it at all.

It had been four weeks without Hermione, and he was beginning to be physically pained by her absence. His head hurt, his joints hurt, his heart hurt, and she wouldn’t even bloody look at him. He deserved it, he knew he did, but he was at a total loss for what to do about it.

A simple apology wouldn’t work this time. She had made it very clear that he needed to figure out his priorities, find his self-worth, before he went back to her. The problem was, he didn’t really believe he was worth anything. Especially now, when he had so easily proved how quickly he could ruin every good thing in his life.

His racing thoughts came to a screeching halt. Every good thing. The phrase replayed again in his mind, and then, he began to list off all the good things that he had.

Hermione.

Theo.

Ginny.

His parents.

Uncle Severus.

Quidditch.

The manor.

Poppy’s cooking.

Hogwarts.

Potions.

He ticked them off one by one on trembling fingers. They had been right, all of them. He did have so many things to be grateful for, so many things worth protecting. In a rash move of bravery or idiocy, he closed and eyes and probed into his mind, searching for the object in which he kept his emotions. At last, he found it, the golden snitch that fluttered through his subconscious. He grasped at it, and then with a deep breath he forced it to open, spilling out all of the emotions that he’d been hiding.

Draco gasped at the voracity of it, overwhelmed by the onslaught of feeling he’d been deprived of. Everything else drowned out, and suddenly he was floating amidst the pain, the fear, the joy, and the love.

“Draco!”

It was Theo’s voice that finally pulled him out of his own head. He blinked rapidly, staring up at the panicked brown eyes that were standing over him.

Wait, standing over him? When had he fallen on the floor?

“Theo?” He croaked as he was tugged upwards.

“Salazar, Draco, don’t scare me like that again! I come in to our room to find you writhing on the floor with your eyes rolled back in your head. What the fuck were you doing?”

“I stopped occluding.”

“You—what?”

In his shock, Theo’s grip loosened on Draco’s hand and he flopped back onto the ground.

“Wow, thanks mate.”

“You stopped occluding.”

“Yes,” Draco brushed the nonexistent dust from his shoulders, “I just said that.”

“I haven’t heard you speak more than a sentence in weeks and you choose to revert to dry sarcasm? Nice.”

The corners of Draco’s lips twitched slightly.

“I’m an absolute arse, and I already know you aren’t going to let me live this down—“

“You’re damn right I’m not.”

Draco sighed.

“Yes, thank you for that confirmation. Regardless of my poor life choices as of late, I’m asking for your help.”

“And what makes you think I’m willing to offer it?”

“Because you’re my best friend, you’re my brother, and despite how shite I’ve been lately, you’re still here.”

Theo took a deep breath in, and then released it in a dramatic rush.

“I just want to say, that I’m not sorry about this. Not one bit.”

He then lunged forward and tackled Draco back to the ground, shoving his face into the carpeting.

“Theo!” Draco groaned. “Stop!”

“No! You deserve it and you know it!”

The blonde let out another muffled protest but didn’t fight back.

Eventually, Theo stood up, pulling his friend up with him.

“Alright, what’s the plan mate?”

And for the first time in a month, Draco smiled.

 

It took an entire weekend of painstaking practice before they had an opportunity to put their plan to action. The morning of the apology dawned bright. Draco, far chipper than he’d been in ages, walked to the Great Hall with Theo for breakfast.

“So how does it feel to be back among the living?” Theo joked lowly so as to avoid the curious ears of those around them.

“I’ve been alive the whole time,” Draco countered, and his friend huffed in disagreement.

“A life alone is a life half lived.”

Draco turned to him, tilting his head at the wise words that were uncharacteristic of his best mate. His questions however fell silent, as his eyes glanced behind Theo’s head to see Ginny walking hand in hand with a Ravenclaw.

“What in Merlin’s name is going on there?”

“Oh, I’d forgotten you haven’t heard yet. It appears Ginevra has a boyfriend. Michael Corner.”

Draco could hear the bite of envy in Theo’s tone, but he did not comment on it.

“Ah, well, alright.”

The pair lapsed into silence, and then Theo launched into a discussion of quidditch. By the time the boys had made it to the table, thoughts of Ginny and Michael were pushed aside entirely.

“So when are you doing it?” Theo whispered.

“After breakfast.”

No sooner had the words left Draco’s mouth, Hermione scurried into the Great Hall. Her hair was piled on the top of her head, secured into a messy bun with her wand. She looked stressed. Probably a mix of OWLs and the stretching silence between them. Draco’s heart thumped against his ribs, steadily increasing as she settled into her seat.

His wand twisted tightly between his fingers underneath the table, thoughts of food wiped entirely from his mind. He needed her, longed for her, hoped for her. Doubt began to creep in to the edges of his consciousness. What if his apology wasn’t enough? What if he wasn’t enough?

Draco sucked in a breath, and closed his eyes.

“Drake.” Theo’s stern voice interrupted his spiral.

“I know you can do this. You know you can do this.”

Draco nodded and released the stale air from his lungs.

“Thanks.”

“Right, well, looks like she’s done. Show time.”

Theo shoved at Draco’s shoulder lightly, forcing him to stand. Hermione’s head was down, eyes already scanning an open text that magically hovered in front of her while she walked. Of course she found a way to study while walking, his brilliant witch.

Draco quickened his pace, slipping out of the closing doors behind her. There were very few students mulling about, but Draco was especially careful. His girlfriend continued her stride down empty corridors, seemingly oblivious to his presence behind her. When there was no one in sight, Draco sped up and grabbed for her arm, spinning her into an open classroom door. With a flick of his wrist, the door shut and locked behind them.

Draco turned to face Hermione, who to his surprise, was still reading her textbook, completely unfazed by his actions.

“If you’re going to sneak up on me, you’re going to have to learn to mask your scent.” She spoke primly, eyes never leaving the pages.

“Green apples, spearmint, mahogany. It’s not a combination I’m likely to forget any time soon. Soulmates, remember?”

“Hermione—“ Draco’s throat clogged with unspoken emotion. He swallowed it back and tried again.

“Hermione, I’m sorry.”

At last, her amber gaze raised to meet his. She shut the book with a gentle thud.

“Oh is that so, Draco? Sorry after a month of silence? That’s all you’ve got?”

Rage flickered beneath her calm features, and it sent a surge of relief down Draco’s spine. Anger, he could deal with. Anger meant she still cared.

“I am the world’s biggest idiot.”

Hermione snorted.

“No need to restate the obvious.”

The corner of his mouth tilted upwards.

“Cheeky.”

“You deserve every bit of it.”

“You’re right,” he agreed. Again, the room went silent.

“What are we doing here?”

Hermione asked at last.

“Well, love, you told me I had to prove to you that I know my own worth, that I’m willing to fight.”

She nodded once.

“Yes.”

“Well,” he breathed deeply, “I’m here to show you that.”

She did not respond verbally. Instead she quirked a brow and made a motion with her hand as if telling him to continue.

Wand clutched in a shaking hand, he stepped forward. Draco closed his eyes, drawing forward all of his happiest memories. His first time riding a broom, eating cookies with Theo on Christmas, dancing with Hermione in the library, laughing at Ginny’s frog prank. He let the energy swirl around him, casting out the doubts and fears.

“Expecto Patronum!”

His voice rang clear, and from the tip of his wand shot a burst of brilliant light. It twisted and moved, finally forming into its rightful shape, a lion.

“Draco,” Hermione breathed. Her eyes tracked the magnificent feline prowl around the room, opening his mouth in a silent roar before disappearing through the wall.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he quipped weakly, “how entirely unslytherin of me.”

As if he wasn’t already exhilarated enough, the smile that Hermione gave him smoothed over any broken pieces that lingered in his soul.

“You can cast a patronus.”

“I can. It’s a bloody difficult spell, too, truly annoying that Potter’s been able to do that for years.”

In five leaping steps, Hermione was in Draco’s arms. In another instant, her mouth was crashing into his.

A feeling of rightness hummed through their bodies, reconnecting souls in a display of pure magic.

“I love you, Hermione,” Draco whispered between kisses.

“And I’m so sorry for how big of an arse I’ve been. I mastered my patronus to prove to you, prove to myself, that I was good. I read up on all the lore, and evil wizards can’t cast them, so I figured that if I showed you that I could, then…”

“Draco,” she quieted him gently.

“I always knew what you were and what you are. I wanted you to believe it yourself. And now you do.”

Draco smiled, his lips stretching widely over white teeth.

“By the way, you arse, I love you too.”

The pair let their actions play out the words of longing and love from their separation. When they finally pulled apart, Draco breathed a sigh of relief into the delicate skin of Hermione’s neck.

“So what do we do now? It’s almost the end of the year…he’s coming.”

“We take each day as it comes,” she responded idly. “Starting with you apologizing to Ginny, she might be angrier at you than I was.”

Draco’s sigh turned to a low chuckle.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from a lion.”

“Careful Draco,” Hermione jested, “let’s not forget that there’s a roar hidden inside of you too.”

Chapter 37

Ginny was perfectly fine.

Her life that spring consisted of a monotonous schedule—classes, homework, and dates with Michael. He waited for her after class every day, planned fun outings, and introduced her to all of his friends.

So, yes, Ginny was perfectly fine, she reminded herself of that fact yet again.

“Ginny?”

Michael’s voice sliced through her distracted thoughts.

“Yes, sorry,” she apologized, and he grinned at her from across the library table.

“You’d think I was Professor Binns with that glazed look in your eye.”

“I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night,” Ginny lied, and Michael didn’t second guess it. She tried to not let that bother her. It was unreasonable to expect him to know how she was feeling if she didn’t say it. But it wasn’t impossible. She knew that, because Theo always knew when something was wrong.

Theo.

She shook her head again as if she could shake him entirely. After Draco had manned up and apologized to her, self-righteous dolt that he is, their ragtag group of lions and snakes was back together. Ginny had only seen them a few times, mostly on nights when Ravenclaw had the quidditch pitch. On the evenings she did attend, Theo had been quiet. One night, he hadn’t bothered showing up at all, and when she’d asked Draco about it, he’d shrugged and stated that Theo was dating. Dating? Who was he dating?

The thought of a faceless blonde Slytherin witch formed in her mind and she had to actively hold back a wince. She wasn’t allowed to care about him dating, so she didn’t. Or she’d try not to, anyway.

“Did you hear about the prank that happened today?”

Ginny’s attention again snapped back to Michael.

“No,” she replied curiously, “what was it?”

“Someone charmed the cauldrons in Snape’s classroom to only brew frogs.”

A smile blossomed across the red head’s face.

“Frogs, you say?”

“Yes, hundreds of them. All day! Snape had to cancel classes, but oddly enough he didn’t even seem that mad. Figures, he must be as tired of us as we are of him.”

“That’s brilliant!”

“Brilliant?” The apparent shock on Michael’s face dimmed her grin.

“Yes?”

“I would call it a lot of things, but brilliant isn’t one of them. Childish, maybe. Disrespectful, sure.”

“It was just a joke, Michael.”

Ginny tried to restrain the annoyance that crept up her throat.

“Jokes have consequences,” he replied simply, stretching back to reach into his book bag.

“Finals are a week away; we don’t have time to miss class and mess around.”

“Maybe the person who did it thought that people needed a pick-me-up? A break in all the seriousness?”

Michael glanced back at her, pausing to consider her words.

“Maybe,” his tone still casual. “It’s just not what I would’ve done.”

It’s just not what I would’ve done.

There was no ire in his words, but the statement felt like a stinging hex in her stomach.

“Michael, I’m sorry, but I’m not really feeling very well.”

Ginny stood up suddenly and his forehead scrunched with concern.

“Can I do anything to help?” He reached towards her, but she flinched away reflexively.

“No, no, I can handle it. Just feeling a bit lightheaded. I think I’ll go lay down in my room and rest it off.”

Michael’s nod was immediate, and he turned to gather her things and sling her bag over his shoulder.

“I’ll walk you to the tower.”

She smiled at him weakly.

“Thanks.”

His returning smile was handsome, endearing, exactly what she’d expected. As they took their finals steps out of the library, Ginny glanced back towards the direction of the alcove. She knew only one person who had the gall to pull that kind of prank, in the classroom of the most feared teacher, no less. She also knew that there was only one person she’d taught her replicating frog spell too, the incantation that she’d found hidden in the libraries of the Black house that past summer. Most importantly, though, she knew why he would’ve done it, to make people smile, to lighten the weight that lingered all around them. It was childish, she wouldn’t deny that, but it was more than what Michael was willing to see. Her eyes turned back towards the boy she had chosen, the one who walked beside her with steady purpose, and she intertwined her fingers with his. Ginny was perfectly fine, so why did it feel like she wasn’t?

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It turned out that when Fred and George were banned from quidditch, they caused an even bigger ruckus than before. Between the endless pranks and new inventions, the boys were running both the prefects and the inquisitorial squad to their wits end.

The ever-increasing mischief felt like a lead up to something, but Ginny wasn’t entirely sure what the end goal was. However, when she walked into the Gryffindor common room after Michael dropped her off that night, she found her answer. A large gold banner hung from the ceiling. In swooping font it read, 

Win or Lose, Lions know how to party.

“Fred! George!”

Her yell was loud enough to be heard up the boys’ staircase. She waited only a moment before two sets of footsteps came thundering forward.

“Ginny!” Fred started.

“Just the sister we wanted to see,” George finished.

Ginny pointed at the banner with a single eyebrow raised.

“Oh, that.”

“Yes, that! What are you two scheming knobs up to?”

Fred grinned.

“Just a little party to get people in good spirits of course.”

“We want the school year to end with a bang.”

“And what about finals?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about those.”

Fred slung an arm around her shoulders.

“We put the banner up to give everyone two days’ notice.”

“And for any of our more studious little lions, we’ve already arranged a study room to be open extra late, so we don’t bother them.”

“That’s, well, surprisingly considerate of you actually.”

“Oh come on Gin, just because we like to have fun that doesn’t mean we think everyone does.”

“However, you and Hermione are the exception to that,” George chimed in, and she whirled to face him.

“What?”

“You’re both coming to this party whether you want to or not. We haven’t seen nearly enough of the both of you this year. I don’t know when you became so invested in your studies, but you are not spending your Friday night in the library.”

“But—“

“No buts.”

“Overruled!” The twins spoke simultaneously with wide smiles, and she rolled her eyes.

“Fine.”

“That’s our girl!” They cheered. Fred picked her up and spun her in the air, forcing a squeal out of her lungs.

“Fred Weasley you put her down this instant!”

Hermione’s shout from the entrance of the common room had him placing Ginny gently back on her own feet.

“Did you try to put a stop to this yet?” Ginny turned to Hermione, who raised both of her hands in innocence.

“Don’t look at me, I put forth my best effort. We’ve been arguing about it all week actually.”

“Of course she hasn’t noticed, Ginny’s been spending too much time snogging Corner to notice what her favorite brothers have been up to!” George jibed at his sister while Fred made obnoxiously loud kissing noises behind him.

“Oh bugger off you two.”

Ginny stepped forward and reached for her friend’s hand.

“Come on ‘Mione, I need your help with my hair.”

She pulled her up the girls’ staircase before Hermione had a chance to argue.

“Ginny, you know I can’t help with hair.”

“I know.” She spun to face her, curiosity flickering in her blue gaze.

“Ginny?”

“Was it Theo who pulled the prank in Snape’s classroom?”

A smile flitted across Hermione’s face.

“What a shame, he truly thought he was being coy.”

“Theo hasn’t been coy a day in his life.”

Ginny’s laugh was exasperated, and she carried on quickly.

“Why did he do it?”

 

Despite logic and reason, a part of Ginny hoped that she knew why he did it, hoped that she understood the reason why he didn’t have the nerve to say it aloud.

But her hopes were ridiculous. He had never admitted to anything. He hadn’t so much as spoken to her the last few weeks.

“We can never truly know with him, can we?” Hermione spoke nonchalantly.

“Just trying to have a bit of fun, I’d reckon.”

“Yeah.” Ginny’s shoulder slumped slightly. She knew that Hermione would never betray Theo’s trust, even to her, and especially not when she appeared happy to be with Michael.

“Are you alright?”

Shite.

Ginny blinked at her rapidly and struggled to come up with an excuse.

“Me? Oh! Yes. Totally fine.”

“Ginny.”

“I’m fine! Promise!”

She knew Hermione didn’t believe her, but she dropped it anyway. Instead, her friend gave her what looked to be her most devious grin.

“Well, it looks as though we have quite the celebration on Friday after your quidditch match.”

“Very true,” Ginny agreed, linking their arms and tugging forward into her dormitory.

“Fred and George are certainly up to something.”

“That’s what I was thinking!”

“Can’t say that I blame them,” she replied with a shrug of her shoulder. “We all seem to have ulterior motives these days.”

 

There was something terribly odd about playing a quidditch game without her brothers and Harry. It was something that Ginny had never done before, and quite frankly she didn’t look forward to a time when she’d have to do it again.

Their first mistake had been the replacement beaters. Of course, no one would’ve been able to come close to replacing Fred and George; however, after finishing the game Ginny was quite certain that she could’ve picked about any other pair in the house that would’ve outdone Dean and Seamus’s performance.

The pair bickered nearly the entire time and didn’t know the first thing about bludger placement. What’s worse, is that without their regular seeker, Ginny was forced to take the role.

Ginny loved quidditch for the ferocity of it. She liked to shoulder out opponents, fight for the quaffle, and race to the hoops. She wasn’t used to the strategy and patience involved in seeking. But despite their disadvantages, Gryffindor had miraculously pulled off the win.

“Looks like we got the best of you!” Ginny bumped her shoulder against Michael’s as they met outside of the quidditch locker rooms. He smiled, but it didn’t quite meet his eyes. She was headed back to Gryffindor Tower, per her brothers urging, but she’d wanted to see Michael before she left.

“Looks like it.”

“Don’t pout,” Ginny jested. “It’s all in good fun.”

“I just can’t believe you caught the snitch!” He groaned, his head falling back on his shoulders in exasperation.

“You’re not even a bloody seeker.”

“I can be anything I want to be if I put my mind to it.”

He blew out a sigh, glancing at her sideways.

“It doesn’t really seem fair that you got to play with new players this late in the season.”

“Oh come on, you know our new players put us at a disadvantage! Dean and Seamus were a mess out there.”

“Still, just doesn’t seem right.” He continued, “but I mean if anyone is going to be allowed to break the rules, of course it’s going to be the Gryffindors.”

Ginny paused mid step, her head whipping towards her boyfriend.

“Excuse me? What is that supposed to mean?”

A burst of laughter escaped his lips, and it made the hair on the back of Ginny’s neck raise.

“What it means is that you lions can get away with anything. The things that Potter, Weasley, and Granger have done would never be accepted in any other house.”

“That is not true!”

“It’s not?”

He also stopped walking, turning to face her fully.

“Ginny, your brother and Potter flew a bloody flying car to school and didn’t get suspended. They found the Chamber of Secrets when they should’ve been taking finals, and then the year after that they got in a quarrel with a murderer, on school grounds no less!”

“Michael, don’t tell me you’re jealous of Harry.”

“This isn’t about him,” he rolled his eyes before continuing.

“Your brothers pull pranks constantly, yet they get little more than detention. Finnegan caught an entire classroom on fire! And don’t even get me started on the liability that is Neville Longbottom.”

“Those are my friends you’re talking about you know,” Ginny spoke through gritted teeth. “It’d do you well to speak better of them.”

“I have nothing against your friends,” his tone turned to one of exasperation. “I’m just trying to get you to accept what’s right in front of you.”

“Which is what, exactly Michael?” She hissed.

“Ginny…”

“No, please, do tell. Enlighten me with your all-encompassing Ravenclaw wisdom.”

“The sarcasm is not appreciated.”

“Neither is the attack on my house! All because we won a bloody quidditch match and you’re a sore loser!”

Michael looked wounded for only a moment before he steeled his expression.

“You’re being rather emotional about this whole thing. We’re simply having a conversation.”

“So what if I’m emotional!” she yelled. “It’s passion! I am passionately defending my friends against your slanderous onslaught.”

“I’m not trying to argue you,” he spoke calmly, too calmly. “I just wanted you to be logical about this. But never mind, it’s all fine. I apologize for what I said, it was out of line.”

His words gave her pause. She didn’t want to be logical, and she didn’t want an apology. She wanted to talk it out, yell it out, even, until it was all out in the open.

“Well if that’s it then, I’ll be off.”

“Where are you going?” His eyebrows raised. “We always go to the library on Fridays.”

“The Gryffindor House party.”

Michael scowled. “Really? You think it’s prudent to have a butter beer bash mere days before exams?”

And with that haughty facial expression and indignant tone, the last hope that Ginny had in him faded out. She blinked up at Michael as if she was seeing him clearly for the first time. He had been sweet and kind to her, she wouldn’t deny him that; but all the niceness in the world couldn’t diminish the now blazingly obvious difference between them. Ginny valued her family, her friendships, over anything else. But Michael? Michael valued his intelligence. He prioritized logic and rationality. She realized with a jolt that he hadn’t even joined the DA to fight the good fight, he’d joined for a better grade in class. All the pieces that floated around her mind for days now finally clicked together, and she knew what had to be done.

“Yes, I am going to the party. But I think we need to talk first.”

Chapter 38

Hermione tiptoed down the girls staircase, stopping when she heard the sounds of someone shifting in the common room. It was late, the party had ended hours ago, and there shouldn’t be anyone still up. She had gone up to the dormitories almost immediately after the match, spending most of the night at Ginny’s side as she ranted and raved about her break up with Michael. The only reason she was headed back to the common room was because she’d forgotten her defense textbook, and she was hoping to get a late night read in about vampires as a last ditch study attempt.

The girl froze, nearly ready to turn around and sneak back up stairs before she was stuck having to converse with whoever it was, but then the humming started. It was a familiar tune, the same one he’d absentmindedly sing when he was writing an essay or memorizing a spell. She took the remaining steps down to the landing two at a time.

“Harry?”

The lanky boy in front of her spun around and met her gaze.

“Mione!”

In one hand, he held a bottle of firewhiskey, and in the other he held a half eaten sandwich. Where he’d gotten the sandwich, Hermione had no idea.

“You missed the party!”

His words sounded slow, and he was shifting his weight oddly between his two feet.

“Are you drunk?”

He sent her a dopey smile.

“Just a little.”

She held back a frustrated groan. Harry had been out of sorts lately. Between quidditch fights, Dumbridge, and his ever increasing nightmares, she wasn’t surprised by this behavior.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed and find some water.”

She turned back towards the boys staircase.

“No, I don’t want to go to bed,” he slurred, “I want to stay and talk to you.”

She glanced back to look at her friend, holding back a laugh at his overexagerrative pout.

“Harry, come on, you need water.” She tried to sound firm.

“But I have secrets to tell you,” he all but whined, “don’t you want to stay down here and learn my secrets?”

He tried to tug her to the windowsill but she refused to move.

“What secrets, Harry?”

Instead of responding, he slumped down to the floor, folding his legs up in the way that an elementary child would.

“I’m a teeny tiny bit worried.”

Her eyebrows raised in amusement.

“Oh no, really? What ever could you be worried for? It’s not like there’s a mad man out on the loose in England with a bone to pick with you.”

Harry blinked up at her once, twice, and then broke out into a fit of laughter.

“Mione, you’re silly,” he slurred.

“Voldemort isn’t what I’m talking about. I’mmmm worried about someone. It’s someone and it’s a secret.”

Hermione, realizing that she wasn’t getting the knockered bloke to go anywhere any time soon, conceded and sat down on the floor beside him.

“You can tell me, Harry.”

“No, I can’t!” His face took on a twinge of drunken panic.

“I can’t tell anyone.”

She opened her mouth to reply but he pushed forward.

“Everyone will think I’m mad, and it’s dangerous. I’m not telling anyone. Nope nope nope.” He tilted his head and a piece of his unruly hair flopped into his face. Hermione brushed it away with a careful hand.

“Harry,” she spoke somewhat unsurely, “I promise I won’t get mad.”

She really didn’t know why he sounded so nonsensical. Harry could tell her about anything. Or else, she thought he could, but the voice of Blaise Zabini whispered in the back of her mind.

Harry raised his right hand and made a locking motion against his lips.

“Some secrets are tooooooo big to share, ‘Mione, even with you.”

Hermione’s heart beat thudded in her ears, she’d never related more to Harry’s words, but she was quite certain that he didn’t know what he was saying, and he wouldn’t remember any of what he was saying tomorrow.

“I know what you mean,” she whispered to him. Her confession was met with silence, and when she glanced down she noticed that Harry had fallen asleep leaned against her.

“You silly secretive, boy,” she sighed into the silence, and then she cringed in realization. If she only changed one word, she’d be speaking about herself.

+++++++

Hermione and Ginny had been correct in their musings about the twin’s motives. The day after the party, the sleepy older Gryffindors awoke to shouts from the common room from the first and second years.

“There’s a swamp in the castle!”

Somehow, Fred and George had managed their most dramatic prank to date. So it seemed, it would also be their last.

“Stupid blighters,” Ginny grumbled into her porridge later that morning. They had been ferried across the swamp into the Great Hall for breakfast, and were eating later than expected.

“They didn’t even think to say goodbye? To their own sister no less! Blasphemous.”

“Ginny you’ll see them in a week,” Hermione reminded her, but she ignored her.

“And to skip out on their NEWTS? What will mum say! She’s going to be livid.”

“Gin—“

“And this swamp is just bloody inconvenient if you ask me. Takes an extra twenty minutes to get to breakfast. This castle is already big and tricky enough as it is, thank you very much! And-“

“GINNY.”

The girl paused, head snapping up to meet Hermione’s gaze.

“What?”

“It’s okay to just admit you’re going to miss them.”

Ginny opened her mouth and then closed it quickly. She took a sharp inhale through her nose and her bottom lip began to quiver.

“I’ve never gone to school without them.”

Hermione scooted across the bench, wrapping her arm around her friend’s shoulders.

“It’s going to be fine,” she soothed. “I didn’t take you for such a sentimental little thing.”

Ginny shrugged out of Hermione’s grasp and sent a faux glare in her direction.

“I am not sentimental and I am not little. My break up must have me a bit out of sorts, but I assure you I am fine.”

Hermione raised her hands innocently.

“Okay, apologies.”

“Shouldn’t you be studying or something?” Ginny challenged. “You have your first OWL in 24 hours.”

Hermione dropped the fork in her hand as if it was on fire.

“24 hours!” She squeaked, rising suddenly.

“I need to go, there’s so much to prepare!”

She vacated her seat and scurried to the exit before Ginny could get another word out. Rolling her eyes, she resumed eating her porridge.

“Where’s she off to?”

The familiar voice of her closest brother slid into the open seat beside her.

“Studying.”

“Ah, yes, she’s the maddest the day before the tests start.”

Ginny turned to eye her brother as he loaded his plate with sausages.

“Where have you been?”

“Trying to get Harry out of his bed. Eventually I just gave up. I think the bloke drank too much, I don’t even remember him coming up to the rooms. Speaking of that, where were you last night? I saw you for maybe a minute.”

“I—had some things to deal with.”

She nearly winced at the look that Ron gave her.

“If you’re going to lie to me you better give me a better excuse than that.”

She took a deep breath, exhaling in a swift rush.

“Michael and I broke up.”

Ron’s grip on his glass tightened.

“What did that sniveling little bird do to you?”

“Nothing!” She replied quickly. “Aside from being a sore loser in quidditch he was a perfect gentleman. We just—didn’t work out.”

Ron’s shoulders loosened slightly.

“Alright, well, are you sure you don’t want me to beat him up?”

Ginny laughed.

“No! Not right before finals.”

“Why not? Fred and George aren’t taking them so why should I?”

“Because I value your life and I don’t want to see you have to go up against our parents.”

“Oh but you think they’ll be just fine?”

“I think that they have a plan, a plan that you don’t have, mind you.”

Ron rolled his eyes.

“First you tell me I can’t beat up Corner, then you tell me you don’t think I can handle our parents. Wow, Gin, you’re a real boost to the ego. No wonder he didn’t want to date you.”

“Ron!” She smacked his shoulder. “Rude! I could still be emotionally fragile!”

“You should’ve considered putting your own emotions at risk before you started this,” he fired back. The pair stared at one another before chuckling in tandem.

“You’re a twit, you know that?”

He tussled her head gently with his large hand.

“And yet you love me anyway, little sister.”

+++++++++

It was the night before his last OWL and Theo felt like his head was going to explode any minute. He’d simply hit his limit on how much information could be stored between his two ears.

Was there an extension charm for brain capacity? He’d have to look it up.

He had been sitting alone in the back alcove of the library studying for hours. Draco and Hermione were gods knows where, whether they were patrolling or snogging could not be determined. He also didn’t know where Ginny was, but that was unsurprising. He’d put forth his best effort so as to avoid her entirely over the last few weeks. She hadn’t done anything wrong, he knew that, but it was just easier this way. If he avoided seeing her then he could avoid every feeling he had whenever she was around. Simple.

Theo refocused his bloodshot eyes on the book infront of him. His stomach growled, and he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that his test scores still wouldn’t be good enough. Yet again, even 7 straight O’s wouldn’t impress his father.

“Oi, you’re looking a bit worse for wear, Theodore.”

A voice rang out from the entry to the alcove and Theo jumped at the sound. Even when he forced her out of his head, she somehow made her way back into it.

“Merlin, Ginevra, you’re the first voice I’ve heard in hours.”

“Yeah, I figured as much,” Ginny plopped into a seat, still watching him.

“When you weren’t at dinner I decided I should check to make sure you hadn’t studied yourself into a coma.”

“I missed dinner?!”

The question fell past his lips before he processed the fact that she’d noticed his absence.

Ginny nodded and he groaned, thumping his forehead on the table.

“Don’t worry, I come bearing gifts.”

Out of her book bag, Ginny placed a container in front of him filled with items from dinner. The food remained warm under a stasis charm.

“You’re a lifesaver,” he breathed, reaching for a roll while actively trying to suppress his urge to walk around the table and hug her.

“Yes, well, I figured if you died, who else would I spend my time arguing with?”

Theo shook his head, swallowed down a bite of food and then said, “oh I’m sure you’d find someone else.”

She already had, after all. He swallowed down the lump that had risen in his throat at that thought.

Ginny looked at him, her head slightly tilted and her eyes glittering in the lamplight. He liked her best this way, when her walls were down. He’d seen so little of it lately that he hadn’t realized how much he missed it.

“You are not as replaceable as you think you are, Theodore. Not to me.”

Theo stared at her for a moment, unable to form a sentence to respond. At last, she smiled, almost wistfully, and stood from the table.

“Alright, well, I have to go meet up with Luna, she promised she’d revise my divination essay before I turn it in tomorrow.”

“What, you don’t want to let Corner do it?” Theo couldn’t repress the snark that lined his tone. He felt guilty for it almost immediately, reminding himself yet again that she was entitled to live her life however she wanted. This was why ignoring her had been easier.

“Considering he isn’t my boyfriend anymore, I’d rather not,” she replied coolly, smoothing her red hair down before turning away from him.

Her words made Theo freeze in his seat. Not her boyfriend? He pushed down his embarrassment and called out to her before she was gone.

“G!”

The nickname felt warm like the hope that crawled up his throat.

“Hm?” She turned back to him, her stare still frosty.

“Thank you, for everything. I feel like I haven’t told you that enough lately.” His sincerity managed to thaw the ice that was steeling her expression and she rolled her eyes at him.

“Yeah, don’t get used to it.”

He blew a kiss at her and she feigned a scowl before leaving. He let the hope bloom a little larger in his chest.

“I’ll see you after finals tomorrow, yeah?”

He nearly yelled to her.

“Yes, Theodore.”

Little did they know that by that time tomorrow, everything would change.

Chapter 39

Draco was worried. He had been since the moment he saw Harry Potter fall to the ground in their History of Magic final. Something was big happening; he just didn’t know what.

It hadn’t been his idea to follow the Gryffindors to Umbridge’s office, that had been all Pansy and the rest of the inquisitorial squad. He’d tried his best to act snobbish, angry, insincere, in their standoff, but it was a failing effort. And minutes later, when he’d stared down the end of Ginny Weasley’s wand, he didn’t even have it in him to act.

“I’m sorry.” She’d mouthed at him.

“Me too,” he’d mouthed back.

As it turned out, Ginny’s bogey hex was even better than she’d boasted about. Draco couldn’t see, he could barely breathe, beyond the large bats flying out of his nostrils. The rest of the inquisitorial squad were in just as bad of shape as he was. Through the panicked yells, his eyes had drawn towards Hermione being marched out of the room. The last thing he saw of her was a glimpse of chestnut curls alongside a garish pink jacket.

Since then, hours had passed, and he’d heard nothing from his lions. There were whispers in the Slytherin common room that Umbridge had been led out into the forbidden forest by Potter and had never returned. If that wasn’t worrisome enough in itself, the Gryffindor table was missing several very important people at dinner that night. Draco’s nerves grew with every passing moment, clawing at his chest until he was nearly suffocated in panic.

“Drake, stop pacing.”

Theo’s firm voice sliced through his hazy fear-ridden thoughts.

“Sorry,” he wheezed, slowing to a halt in their dorm.

“Where are they Theo? What’s happening?”

“I don’t know.”

“We need to find them!”

“Draco.” Again his voice was firm.

“We can’t. You know that we can’t. We have to wait.”

“Well I’m not bloody good at waiting Theo,” he snapped, his head falling to his hands.

“I’m sorry. I’m just…”

“Worried?” His friend supplied.

“More than worried. I’m scared.”

“Yeah,” Theo breathed out shakily. “I’m scared too.”

++++++++++++

Hermione should’ve known this was a bad idea. She should’ve forced Harry to see reason and formulate a plan instead of charging headfirst into a rescue. But she didn’t. Instead, she helped him trick a teacher into the forest to be held captive by a giant, she rode stolen thestrals to the Department of Mysteries, and now she stood wand drawn in an unfamiliar hallway as tall figures in black robes and silver masks swept towards her and her closest friends. She had been brash, reckless, and as foolhardy as the rest of the Gryffindors. She wondered how disappointed Severus would be in her, if she made it out of here alive anyway.

“Harry Potter’s come to play!” A distinct cackle burst forth from behind the closest silver mask and Hermione had to hold back a shiver. She didn’t recognize it, but it dripped with vitriol.

“Bellatrix LeStrange,” Harry sounded angrier than she’d ever heard him. She wasn’t sure how he knew the voice, maybe from one of the strange dreams that he’d been having.

“It seems my reputation precedes me.”

“If by that you mean your murderous rampages and psychotic loyalty to a sociopath, then sure.”

“Harry,” Ginny warned from beside him but he shrugged off the warning.

“Where is Sirius?”

“Oh you silly boy,” she cooed. “He was never here to begin with.”

Hermione’s stomach dropped, and her body tensed in preparation for the first spells to start flying.

“Bellatrix!” A shout commanded from the crowd of death eaters. “Stop this! We were instructed not to harm them. He needs to be alive.”

The voice pulled a gasp from Hermione’s lungs. Lucius. If she truly thought about it, she shouldn’t be surprised that he was here, but something about having to stand on the opposite side of a battle made her stomach turn. Had he known? Did he plan this?

“This isn’t your task,” Bellatrix patronized him. “The Dark Lord gave this to me. He said he needed the boy, he never specified with the rest.”

“The Dark Lord will not be pleased.”

“Oh really?” She growled. “I don’t think you’d know what our Lord wants. You haven’t been involved, you aren’t his favorite! I am his most loyal!”

“Will you two just shut up!” Harry roared. “Where are you keeping him?!”

Bellatrix’s head snapped back towards the teenager before her. Although they could not see her face through the mask, rage poured off of her in waves.

“You’ll regret speaking to me in such ways, you stupid boy.”

“You can’t kill me, you just said it yourself,” Harry taunted.

“You’re right.” She said with an evil chuckle. “But I can kill your friends.”

A green light burst forth from Bellatrix’s wand, aimed straight at Ginny’s chest, but Hermione was ready. The spell reflected off of the silvery glow of a shield charm and ricocheted to an upper window in the hall. Glass shattered to the ground, and all chaos ensued.

Spells flew from all directions, and the teens scrambled to find positions between bookshelves and behind upturned tables. Snape’s voice echoed in the back of Hermione’s mind as she casted, dodged spells, and looked for openings.

Be quick. She fired off stunners.

Be creative. She turned robes into snakes.

Be smart. She ran with shields thrown behind her.

With the smoke surrounding them, Hermione was having a difficult time determining the location and status of her friends. She blindly continued to follow Severus’s advice of finding an exit. She knew that the Ministry had wards up against apparition, and she didn’t know how to apparate to begin with. Her only option of escape would be through Floo or by foot. Judging by the way they’d come in, she was a long ways from safety, and would have to fight her way out.

Loud zaps behind her signified yet another attack on her shield.

“Where do you think you’re going? Potter’s filthy mudblood!”

The foreign yells of a man had her spinning fully in preparation for battle.

Her arm was up, spells at the ready, when the stranger crumpled to the ground in front of her.

“No one speaks to my future daughter like that,” Lucius Malfoy seethed, moving closer to the man he’d hit from behind. Even when furious, he walked so gracefully in his black robes it almost appeared as if he was gliding.

“Obliviate.”

When he was done, he stepped forward towards Hermione, peeling back his mask to reveal concerned features.

“I’m so sorry this has happened. I had no idea you’d be here. I would’ve tried to stop it.”

“I know,” Hermione’s voice shook.

“This is not your fault. But we’re in a bit of a mess.”

“More than a mess!” Ginny appeared out of the clouds of smoke panting heavily. Hermione didn’t know how she’d found them, yet again, the youngest Weasley seemed to possess a sort of magic that was all her own.

“The Order is coming, Harry called for them.” She turned to Lucius.

“Mr. Malfoy you need to get out of here before they show up.”

He blinked at her several times.

“It appears you are correct, and call me Lucius.”

Despite the circumstances, Ginny grinned.

“Great. Excellent. Well greetings aside, Lucius, you need to go. I’ll work with Hermione to get out of here.”

He nodded, turning to the child he’d come to care for as if she were his own.

“Be safe.”

“I will.”

He stepped forward and placed a fatherly kiss on the top of her head. Then, he pulled his mask back down and disappeared into the smoke. Ginny grabbed Hermione’s hand.

“Come on ‘Mione, we need to move!”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

A deep rasp came forth from the mist, the opposite direction of where Lucius had left only moments before. The approaching death eater looked down to the crumpled heap of a man that still laid beside them and emitted a growl.

“You’ll pay for what you’ve done.”

“Ginny, run,” Hermione breathed. “I’ll hold him off.”

“As if I’d leave you alone,” she retorted, drawing her wand.

“Count of three.”

“One…two…”

Spells burst from three wands, again and again in a series of cacophonous sounds and blinding light.  The girls held their own for a while, but they faced a man with years of dueling experience compared to their mere months of practice. It happened in an instant. Ginny’s defense shield slipped, just slightly, and it gave the dark wizard the opportunity he needed. He slashed his wand down in a vicious arc, sending a flash of purple fire across Hermione’s chest.

Ice. Burning, slicing, ice. She couldn’t escape it. Gasps left her lips but she did not hear them, she couldn’t do anything but feel the ice that cracked her chest cavity open and threatened to swallow her whole.

“Hermione! HERMIONE!”

Ginny’s cries went unanswered.

Hermione closed her eyes, haunted by blue and purple flames, and she let the darkness engulf her, mouth still open in a frozen scream.

Chapter 40

It was ice spreading through her veins, Hermione was sure of it. Inch by inch her blood was freezing, vicious prickles growing into every place in her body. Her liquids were turning to solids, and soon she would be nothing more than ice itself. By then, death would be a reprieve from the pain she now experienced. Because life as it was, was nothing but pain. Pain, and the sound of far away voices that she couldn’t quite make out. At times, she wondered when it would end, if they would miss her, if they would forgive her. But her thoughts were merely flashes of clarity, like lightening across an icy sea. Mostly, she thought of burning cold.

Cold.

Cold.

Cold.

And then nothing.

+++++++++++++

The first thing that pulled Hermione out of the nothingness was the smell. Apples and Mahogany. Him.

She only got a whiff of it, floating at the edges of darkness. She tried to grasp at it, but she couldn’t move. Instead, she narrowed her focus into that smell, and fought her way out of the depths of her mind to be closer to it.

The next change were the voices. They sounded closer now, but still muffled by the ice that encased her. When she tried hard enough, she could almost make out words.

Time passed strangely in the dark frozen landscape that was her mind. She had no indication of how long it had been, whether or not the day shifted to night and back to day. Instead, she simply fluttered between knowing and not knowing. Eventually, the knowing became longer and longer. Finally, a break came through the ice, and at last, she heard the words that formed sentences.

“Hey Granger, how many Ravenclaws does it take to stir a cauldron?”

“She’s not going to answer you, mate. Give it a rest.”

“No thoughts? Never fear, I’ll cue you in. It only takes one! He just puts his wand in and then the world rotates around himself.”

“Wow, hilarious Theo. You clearly don’t harbor any ill will against the birds.”

“I don’t know what you could be referring to, Drake.”

“Sure.”

“Hermione, you don’t think I’m being biased do you?”

Silence.

“That’s what I thought! See, Draco, you’re being a loon about this.”

“Yes, because seeking clarity from a comatose witch is sane. I’m clearly the crazy one here.”

Oh how Hermione wanted to answer them. But she couldn’t. The words were lodged somewhere between her lungs and her mouth, dying to erupt but trapped beneath rigid muscles. She pushed further, trying even harder to break through.

Come on, Hermione, say it.

Say something. ANYTHING.

The muscles in her throat felt tighter than ever before, constricting in painfully. She kept trying. The muscles grew tauter and tauter, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d put this much effort into anything. She decided that if she didn’t speak, she would die trying.

Something shifted. It wasn’t a word, exactly, that left her mouth. It was more a mix between a cough and a yell, really, if she had to describe it. But it didn’t really matter. With that one sound, the ice encasing her muscles shattered like an icicle dropping on concrete.

Hermione was back among the living.

 

Chapter 41

“Hermione!” 

It was Draco who moved first, scrambling from his seat towards her bed. 

“You’re awake. You’re okay. You’re awake.” 

He smoothed his hands over her curls, and she noticed the slight tremor in his fingertips. 

“I’m awake,” she echoed. “I’m okay.” 

“Thank Merlin.” Theo now stood on the other side, looking down at her with shining eyes.

“This has been the longest 2 weeks of my life.” 

“2 weeks?!” Hermione yelped. “I’ve been asleep for 2 weeks?” 

“Asleep?” Her friend scoffed at her. “Try magically induced coma. They’ve been extracting that damned curse from your magical core since the moment you arrived, and it’s taken this bloody long to get enough of it out for you to wake up. Speaking of that, we should probably call for a mediwitch. It might be slim pickings at this time of night, though.”

“Wait, what? Curse?” 

Hermione attempted to sit up, but Draco’s firm hold on her shoulder stopped her.

“Sorry!” Theo winced at the concerned glare Draco shot at him. 

“How about we just slow down for a moment. We’ll have plenty of time to talk later, it’s only two in the morning after all.”

“2am? What are you two even doing here?”

Draco squeezed his witch’s hand.

“Well we can’t really be here in the day time, Love. Your friends rarely leave you for more than a few minutes. Your parents signed us in as family so that we can sneak through the wards every night.” 

“But it’s the middle of the night,” she repeated dumbly. “And you’re wide awake.”

“We switched our sleep schedule for you,” Theo grinned at her. “We couldn’t let you wake up in the middle of the night confused and alone now could we?” 

Tears filled Hermione’s eyes and the boys faces twisted with panic. 

“Hermione, what is it? Where does it hurt?” Draco leaned in closer, his eyes wildly roaming for signs of injury.” 

“I’m not hurt,” she choked out. “I’m just—you’re here! You stayed awake for me!” She wailed. 

Draco shook his head in exasperation.

“Of course I did. I love you.” 

“We love you,” Theo corrected. “And we weren’t going anywhere. This one’s been worried sick about you, even after at least fifteen healers insisted you’d be fine.”

“It was not fifteen,” he mumbled in reply before turning back to Hermione. 

“I just needed you to be alright.”

“And now that she is,” Theo interjected smoothly, “she can tell us more about which bastard decided to hit her with that bloody curse.”

“Or we can call for a mediwitch to make sure she’s healthy.” 

“I think I’m fully capable of making my own decisions, thanks boys.”

Theo spun to face her, the relief of her awakening quickly being replaced with annoyance.

“Oh really, are you Granger? Because last I checked you were charging headfirst into danger without so much as giving us a goodbye!” 

“Theo!” Draco growled in warning but he ignored him. 

“We were stuck at Hogwarts with no idea of where you’d gone or what you were doing, only to find out later from Ginny that you’d almost been killed. You’re smart, Hermione. Brilliant, in fact. So riddle me why you’d make such a reckless decision without so much as telling us about it!”

“Seriously, mate. Stop.”

“It’s alright Draco,” Hermione murmured, her eyes turning to face her friend.

“Theo, I’m sorry. I’m sorry to both of you, actually. You’re right, I should’ve told you two about it. But it all happened so fast! Harry was convinced that Sirius needed our help, and when he gets an idea in his head there’s really no hope of stopping him.”

“But Sirius didn’t need help!” Theo nearly shouted. “He’d been with Narcissa all day, and you would’ve known that had you taken a moment to tell us what was going on. In fact, Sirius didn’t even go to the Department of Mysteries, he let the rest of the Order go instead because Narcissa had a terrible feeling about letting him go and for some reason he listened to her.”

“Well…fuck. I screwed that one up didn’t I?”

Theo’s eyebrows raised in surprise, and then he barked out a laugh. One laugh that turned to many, until tears streamed from his eyes. Hermione followed suit, laughing to the brink of hysterics, and Draco watched both of them with wide eyed apprehension.

“Have you two gone mad?” 

“Yes,” they spoke simultaneously and then laughed again. 

“You swore,” Theo wheezed. 

“You yelled at me,” Hermione choked back through laughter.

“You deserved it!”

Theo shouldered a still shocked Draco out of the way so that he could wrap his long arms around the girl and whisper into her ear.

“You can’t die, Granger. If you do I’ll bring you back just to kill you myself.”

“Noted.”

“Alright,” he announced, standing tall once again.

“I’m going to go find the mediwitch, and before you open your mouth to argue,” he stared at Hermione. “Don’t.”

She made the motion of locking her lips shut, solely to gain a smile from the grumpy boy before her. 

“You’re lucky I’ve been so worried,” he grumbled before walking away. 

 

Instantly Draco was back at her side, sweeping his hands over her hair lovingly. 

“Gods I missed you.” 

“Draco are you crying?” 

“What?” He wiped at his eyes uselessly. 

“No. Of course not. Don’t be silly.” 

She smirked at him, reaching up to pull his face own. 

“Yeah okay, then what is this?”

She brushed her fingers against the moisture on his cheeks. He shook off her hand, instead leaning forward to press his lips to hers. 

“Is this your best distraction tactic?” She murmured against him.

He kissed her deeper, slipping his tongue into her mouth and pulling a whimper from her lungs. He smiled and leaned back.

“Yes.”

They were still inches away grinning at each other when stomping feet approached the door. 

“Oi! Break it up you two, I come bearing medical attention!” 

Draco flopped his head down into the crook of Hermione’s laugh, huffing out a laugh. 

“Leave it to Theo to interrupt.” 

“Always.”

+++++++++++++

Hermione’s healing was a tedious process, she learned from the mediwitches that the curse that had hit her was dark. Very dark. When landed correctly, the spell froze a person from the inside out. Luckily, the death eater’s spell had refracted off of Ginny’s defensive shield, weakening its potency. It explained the horrendous freezing sensation that she’d endured for days on end. Although the spell was dampened, it still caused significant damage to her nerves and magical core. The feeling in her fingertips and toes was minimal, and she had difficulty with even simple tasks. The medical staff assured her, repeatedly, that she was set to make a full recovery, as long as she stayed on her potion regiment and underwent internal warming charms. She was injured, but she was healing; she’d be good as new in a few weeks. 

Those weeks, however, felt dreadfully long. 

She’d already finished all of the summer reading that had been assigned to her, and she was itching to try out a few of the new spells, but her wand was on lock down. Draco insisted that she listen to every instruction from the mediwitches, including letting her magic regain full strength before doing anything. Somehow, Draco had gotten Theo, and even Ginny, to agree with him, and they were a solid front. No magic until July. 

Although she was stuck in the hospital, Hermione was not short on guests. Her days were filled with her parents, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and various other members of the Order. Fred and George stopped by to tell her about their new joke shop that they were opening, and Molly came at least once a day to drop off food, insisting that what they were feeding her wasn’t helping her healing. She loved seeing her friends, but it was the nighttime that she looked forward to most. The quiet moments when Draco, Theo, Narcissa, and sometimes even Lucius, came to see her. Hermione wasn’t sure how the Malfoy’s had paid off St. Mungos to keep their mouths shut about their clandestine visits, but money had never really been an issue, so she didn’t think too much about it. Two weeks in to her conscious healing, Hermione gazed out the window. It was enchanted to look like a beautiful night in London, but she knew better. You’d never truly be able to see stars like that in the city. A light rap at her door stirred her from her thoughts. 

“Narcissa!” She said, smiling at the witch who walked toward her.

“And, Sirius?” 

“Oh come on now, you don’t have to sound so serious.” He winked and sauntered forward.

“I had to see it for myself.”

“See what?”

“The great Hermione Granger sitting still. I don’t think I’ll ever have the chance to see this again.” 

“Oh bugger off, Sirius,” she said with a smile, and he tutted his tongue.

“Oh ho ho still have that sass I see. Glad to know the death eaters didn’t take that.”

“Never.”

Hermione glanced back at Narcissa.

“Really, why are the two of you here?” 

“I’m just here to say hello to my favorite future daughter,” Narcissa grinned. “And to make sure Sirius could get through the wards. Now I’m off.” She placed a chaste kiss to Hermione’s hair before turning to leave.

“I’ll stop by tomorrow night. Draco sends his love, but I told him he had to stay home tonight to make sure Theo starts his summer reading assignments.”

“Dual motivation, how very Slytherin of you, Cissa,” Sirius called to her as she breached the doorway. 

“I thought you’d know by now, my dear cousin, I do always get what I want.” It was her turn to wink, and then she was gone. 

Sirius returned his gaze back to the girl before her. 

“So, Sirius, to what do I actually owe the pleasure?” 

“What? A man can’t come to see his nephew’s betrothed without an ulterior motive?” 

“You could,” she replied evenly, “but you didn’t. Speak.” 

“Harry’s mad at me.” He slouched into the seat beside the girl and ran his fingers through his black locks. 

“Narcissa didn’t let me go to the Department of Mysteries. She begged me not to, and basically hexed me into a chair to stop it. I’d never seen her so scared, so…sure, that something terrible would happen if I left. The only other time I’d seen someone that compelled was our grandmother when she was having a vision.” 

“Your grandmother was a seer?” 

“Not exactly. You see, veelas have many powers, some of which aren’t exactly understood. Veela magic is said to have voyeuristic properties.”

“So you can all see the future?” She raised a brow skeptically.

“No,” Sirius was quick to correct her.

“Not at all. Narcissa didn’t even say it was a vision, it just—I don’t know. I listened. I didn’t go.” 

“I don’t understand, how does this involve Harry?” 

“Harry knows I didn’t show up that night. He saw the rest of the order, but not me. And I can’t tell him why I wasn’t there. All he thinks is that the man who’s supposed to love him like his own child, his bloody godfather Merlin’s sake, was the only one who didn’t answer his rescue call.” 

“Did he tell you that?” Hermione pressed, but Sirius shook his head. 

“No, no. He hasn’t said much of anything, really. But I can tell he’s mad at something, and that’s got to be it.” 

“Sirius,” Hermione said gently, “I don’t mean to be rude, but have you ever considered that Harry’s feelings have nothing to do with you?” 

Sirius tilted his head. 

“What? What else could he possibly be so angry about?” 

“Tonks.” 

Even saying her name made the tears burn behind Hermione’s eyes and she blinked rapidly to prevent them from falling. 

“Tonks is dead,” the words tasted like acid on her tongue. Hermione had already been cursed by the time it happened, but she heard the recount from Ron. How Tonks had gone up against two death eaters at once, how she’d crashed through the mysterious veil to the other side. Hermione had missed the funeral, still in the coma, but the loss still hit her hard. It was the first person she’d truly known and loved that had been killed in the war, and she feared how many other deaths she’d have to face. 

“Tonks is dead,” she repeated. “And Harry thinks it’s his fault.” 

Sirius’s sharp intake of breath was the only sound in the room.

“What? How could he think that? You lot were fooled into showing up there and you needed help, Tonks was doing what she willingly signed up for, protecting the greater good. She’d never blame him, none of us ever would.”

“I know,” Hermione’s tone was surprisingly patient. “But all Harry’s ever known is that the people who protect him, care for him, die for him. And he doesn’t know how to carry that burden. It’s not anger that you’re seeing, Sirius, it’s guilt. He’s guilty and he doesn’t know what to do about it.”

“But he’s barely even looked at me for weeks,” Sirius whispered.

”He hasn’t said this to me,” Hermione started, “but I know Harry quite well. And my guess is, he can’t look at you, because it makes him think of a world where it could’ve been you who died. He thinks that every person who loves him is risking everything, and he doesn’t think he’s worth it.” 

“He is worth it,” Sirius argued.

“I know,” Hermione agreed easily. “But he blames himself for me in this hospital bed, for Tonks’ death, and for just about every other bad thing that could happen.”

“Well I’ll just have to tell him that’s not the case.”

“Arguing Harry Potter is like trying to argue the sky out of raining. It’s no use.”

Sirius’s shoulders slumped.

“So what do I do?”

“What any parent would,” Hermione said. “Try anyway.” 

He nodded.

“You know, I never thought I’d come for advice from someone half my age.”

“She’s wise beyond her years.” 

The third voice from the doorway made both of them jump.

“Draco? What are you doing here?”

“Coming to see you of course.”

“But what about Theo?” 

“Oh, don’t worry.” 

He tugged a bedraggled Theo into the room behind him, his arms filled with books.

“Consider this a monitored study session.” 

Hermione laughed as Sirius rose to leave.

“Well as much as I’d love to stay and study, I hated passing my NEWTs the first go around and I don’t plan on having to do it again. Goodnight boys, thanks Hermione.”

“Bye Sirius,” their voices echoed. 

Draco plopped down into the seat beside his betrothed, placing gentle kisses on her knuckles.

“Stop that,” Theo groaned. 

“The longer you put off studying, the worse I get,” Draco warned him. Theo’s eyes turned down towards his textbook, and Draco’s gaze shifted to Hermione, who was failing to hide a grin.

“Has anyone ever told you how much you take after your mother?” She asked, feigning innocence.

Draco smirked. 

“You wouldn’t be the first.” 

Chapter 42

The month of July passed in a daze for Draco. Now that Hermione was healed, she’d been released from St Mungos and was spending the rest of her summer with her parents. He wanted her at the manor, but she couldn’t. Voldemort could stop by at any time, and Draco refused to even think about what would happen if he found out about her. Despite Draco’s understanding of the situation, he remained petulant. After her incident, the boy found himself even more attached than he’d been before. He had a desperate need to protect her, to see her with his own eyes and know that she was safe. Theo told him he was being neurotic, but he didn’t tease as much as he could. Both boys knew how close they’d been to losing her, and neither wanted it to happen again. 

Draco tried to speak with her every day, but their notebooks didn’t work as well when she was fully immersed in the muggle world. He’d thought of sending letters, but owls were being monitored by the both sides of the war, and even the regular muggle post wasn’t worth the risk. Instead, Draco spent the rest of his summer with Theo, hiding in the Malfoy library and practicing their dueling skills. The next time Hermione went to battle, he vowed to be right there with her. 

 

It was August now, only two weeks left until the reprieve of Hogwarts. Draco had seen less and less of his father as summer days passed, and it worried him. With a large lot of death eaters stuck in Azkaban after the fight at the ministry, Lucius was one of the few remaining soldiers, and he was still stuck at the will of Voldemort. It made Draco’s stomach twist when he thought about it, so for the most part, he didn’t. Avoidance was a coward’s tactic, but it was all he had. 

But on that evening in the middle of August, he heard his mother scream, and all his avoidance tactics came crashing down at his feet. Draco and Theo rushed from their places in the dining room and into the drawing room where Lucius typically came through the floo. This time, Lucius was accompanied by Severus, who was ashen and barely holding up his friend. Draco barely noticed his godfather, instead he stared at the blood that was pouring out of Lucius Malfoy in a way he’d never seen before, spurting with every heart beat. Draco blinked rapidly, trying to understand what kind of wound would cause such damage, and then he realized it. His father was missing his right hand. 

“Father!”

Draco yelled. His mother was no longer screaming, but she stood frozen in place beside him. If Draco was thinking clearly, maybe he would’ve been shocked by his mother’s reaction. Narcissa Malfoy quite literally always knew what to do, in fact she took pride in that aspect of herself. But in this moment, as the Malfoy patriarch bled out before them, neither family member had any thought beyond panic. It was Theo who snapped to action. 

“Accio blood replenishing potion.” His voice was calm despite the calamity. When the potion whizzed from another room into his outstretched hand, he stepped forward, uncorked it, and placed the bottle up to Lucius’s pale lips. 

“Drink, now.” 

As Lucius was drinking, Theo’s wand was already pointed at the injury, murmuring a spell that began to cauterize the flesh. 

“Dammit,” he muttered. “It’s too much. Poppy!” 

Poppy appeared instantly with wide eyes. 

“What’s happened to Master Malfoy!” 

Theo ignored the question. 

“Poppy, please help to close this wound. He needs to stop bleeding.” 

Poppy closed her eyes and pressed her small hands towards the opening. A faint glow emitted from her palms, growing brighter and brighter, and when the light extinguished, all that remained was a stub of bright pink flesh. 

All the eyes in the room stared at the newly healed skin with bated breath. Throughout the entirety, Lucius hadn’t spoken a word, but finally he released a stuttered sigh and cast his gaze towards the boy before him, who was spattered with quickly drying blood. 

“Thank you, Theo.” 

“What in the fuck is going on?” Draco demanded, finally snapping out of his panic induced stupor. As he spoke, his mother rushed forward to encase her husband in her arms. 

“Shhh, it’s okay, Cissa,” Lucius soothed her. 

“Obviously you’re not okay!” Draco’s voice rang louder. “Where the hell is your hand?!”

“Draco,” Severus chided. “Don’t speak to your father in that tone.”

“How about we all take a minute to compose ourselves,” Theo offered, again the source of calm in the midst of the storm. 

“Let’s give Poppy some space to try to get the blood out of these three hundred year old floorboards, maybe run a few baths, and we can reconvene in the dining room. I didn’t have a chance to finish my dinner, anyway.” 

Despite the chaos, Draco snorted. 

“Really, mate? Talking about food at a time like this?” 

“What can I say, it was an excellent pot pie,” he grinned in response.

 

With Poppy’s ushering, the group swept out of the drawing room, and into their own quarters. After an hour or so, they met again around the dining room table. Draco stared at his father intently. When their gazes met, Draco was relieved to see that the life had returned to his mercury eyes. His right hand, or what used to be his right hand, was now bandaged. Draco tried not to look too hard at the space where the missing appendage once was.

“Fancy meeting everyone here,” Theo broke the tense silence, plopping into the seat next to Draco’s. 

“Anyone have anything interesting to share?” 

“Must you always be like this?” Severus asked Theo with an arched brow. Theo blinked at him innocently. 

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean, Severus. Like what? Charming and quick witted? I simply cannot help that I am a delight to be around.” 

Lucius emitted a low chuckle, and all eyes turned back to him. 

“Alright, Theo, enough.” 

“Sir, yes, sir,” he threw up a mock solute before also quieting down. 

 

“First, I want to apologize, to all of you,” Lucius started. “I’ve been trying to keep you out of this mess as much as possible, but it appears we no longer have a choice.” 

His father’s words felt oddly reminiscent of when he alerted the family to Voldemort’s return, and the familiar feeling of fear began creeping up Draco’s neck.

“As you all know, the Dark Lord is back, and after the events that took place earlier this summer, he is angry. Half of his followers are in Azkaban, and the rest of us have been left to pick up the slack. It’s horrifying, the things that he does and wants to do, and because of that I’ve tried keeping a low profile. For a while, it worked, but I’m afraid he’s grown suspicious.” The man turned to his son, grey eyes mirroring one another. 

“Thanks to your friend, Miss Weasley, I made it out of the Department of Mysteries, but it was not without cost. The Dark Lord didn’t understand how I could’ve gotten out when everyone else was captured. Although I had excuses, he was skeptical, and all it takes is one second of skepticism from the Dark Lord for someone to lose everything.” 

“Voldemort is the one who did that to you?” 

“Do not speak his name, Draco,” Lucius snapped.

“Fine. Did the Dark Lord do that to you?” Draco spit the title. That’s when Draco saw something for the first time, the same fear that swept across his own body flashed in his father’s eyes. 

“Yes.” Lucius spoke through gritted teeth.

“He summoned his death eaters today for a meeting. When we arrived, he called me forward and told me that he had a special project, that only the luckiest of his followers would be asked to accomplish something so important.” 

“What did he want you to do?” 

“Not me,” Lucius gaze fell directly on his son and darkened dangerously. “He wanted you.”

A gasp left Narcissa’s mouth. 

“He will not touch him,” she seethed. 

“I know, Cissa,” Lucius said calmly. “He won’t.”

“Me?” Draco gaped. “Why me?” 

“Because he wanted to make a fool of me. He was angry that I escaped when the others did not, and he wanted me to prove my loyalty fully, by giving him my son.”

“So I have to become a death eater?” The world was beginning to spin out of control, faster and faster. All Draco could imagine was the horror on Hermione’s face as she looked down to see his arm marred by the mark of death. His lungs seized in panic. He couldn’t do this, he wouldn’t do this. Keeping secrets was one thing, but signing up for an army of psychopaths was something else entirely. 

“No,” Draco croaked out. “I won’t.” 

“You’re right, Draco, you will not,” Lucius agreed. “There was no way I would volunteer you for this, to pay the price for my mistakes. I am your father, and I will protect my family at all costs. So I concocted a plan. I convinced the Dark Lord that I needed to be the one to complete the task, I made him believe that I so desperately want to prove my worth to him, that I am willing to do it.”

“Do what, exactly, Lucius?” Theo asked quietly from his seat, all traces of his former jovial spirit now gone.

Lucius took a shallow breath, his eyes pointed towards the table. 

“He wants me to kill Albus Dumbledore.”

“No!” Draco was on his feet now, pacing the room. The tension returned to his body, and his muscles coiled like an animal ready to attack. “You can’t do that! You’re not a murderer!” 

“Draco, sit.” 

It was Severus who spoke up, piercing his godson with a hardened black stare. 

“Let your father finish speaking.”

When he’d settled, albeit angrily, Lucius continued. 

“When I offered myself instead, the Dark Lord accepted. However, he told me that to prove my true loyalty, I had to pay his price.”

“So he took your fucking hand?”

“Language, Draco!”

“You have a missing appendage and expect me to care about language?!” 

“BETTER MY HAND THAN YOUR LIFE!” 

Draco was rendered silent by his father’s outburst, shrinking back into his chair in defeat. 

“You’re right. I-I’m sorry, father. I didn’t mean to disrespect you, I see that you were put in an impossible position. It’s just—murdering Albus Dumbledore? Really?” 

“No one is murdering anyone, Draco,” Severus drawled. “Not really, anyway. If you’d just let us finish speaking.”

“Sorry,” Draco winced. 

Silence swept across the room, as all members came to terms with the painful truth before them. 

“Voldemort agreed to let me have the task. I am set to murder Albus at the end of the school year. The only role you must complete is to find a way to let the death eaters into the castle. But you will not take the mark, you will not be a death eater. I will not let you fall the way that my father did to me.”

“You are not your father, Lucius,” Snape’s voice was low and intent. He turned to face the boys, whose faces had grown significantly paler. 

“Before tonight, I’d already heard inklings of the Dark Lord’s plan to carry out this task, and I went to Dumbledore to tell him of the news. He informed me that he was well aware of what was afoot. However, he also told me not to worry, because by the end of the year, he’ll already be dead.”

“What!” Both teens cried. 

“Albus made a few…mistakes, searching for something that could bring the Dark Lord down. He placed a cursed object on his hand, it cannot he removed. The curse is slowly killing him, and it is inevitable. Lucius killing him would be a mercy compared to what the curse will do. Despite that, I’m not letting Lucius take the fall on this. I will be the one to do it.”

“Severus!” Lucius shouted. “You will do no such thing!” 

“Yes, I will.” Severus turned to his friend, resolve outlining his features. “You have a family to live for, a future. Finally after all these years in a lie, you’ll have a chance after this war to make it out and show the world the person you truly are. I will not allow you to risk that. I am doing it, and I will not argue you any further.” 

“Severus you have all those things too—“

“No, Luc, I don’t. We both know that I cannot recover the things I’ve lost. Let this be my penance. Please.” 

Lucius was silent for only a moment before nodding in acceptance. 

“Okay.” 

The men shook hands in front of Draco and Theo who were visibly shaken. 

“Boys,” Narcissa’s voice was gentle. “You must understand, we are doing all that we can to protect you from this. I wish we could’ve hidden this from you as well, but we decided that it was for the best to tell you. Secrets kept hidden fester like infected wounds. We’re stronger with the truth alight.”

Draco remained silent after his mother’s words. It was Theo who began to speak.

“Drake, we need to warn Hermione. Ginny too.”

“No.”

“No?” Theo’s head turned to his friend, mouth open.

“What do you mean, no?”

“I’m not pulling Hermione into this Theo. Hasn’t she been through enough?” 

“Mate, you have to tell her. What are you going to say when a crowd of death eaters busts into the castle at the end of June and you’re the one opening the door?” 

“Theo,” Severus warned, sensing his godson’s growing anger, but he pressed on.

“She deserves to know what’s going on. Both of them do! Didn’t you hear what your mom just said? Secrets fester. Don’t hide this.”

“I refuse to endanger her again!”

“I hate to break it to you, but she’s in danger either way. We all are! That’s what war is!”

“I’m not telling her,” Draco grunted through a clenched jaw. “And you aren’t either.” 

Theo and Draco stared at one another, their hands tightened into fists at their sides.

“Draco, darling,” Narcissa interjected gently. “Theo has a point. Hermione is going to be upset if you keep this from her.” 

“I can handle her upset, I can’t handle her dead.” Draco whispered, his voice cracking on the last word. 

“Please, let me keep her out of this.” 

Theo assessed his friend warily. Despite the immense frustration he felt towards him, he could see the fear in his eyes, and it softened his defenses. Draco was doing the only thing he thought he could to keep Hermione alive, and who was he to question that? Even if he was being a dolt. 

“Alright, we’ll do it your way for now,” Theo conceded curtly. “But you’re not going to be able to hide it forever. This is the brightest witch of our age we’re talking about, and Ginny may be the most perceptive person I’ve ever met. They’ll know that we’re hiding something.”

“I know,” Draco sighed. “I’ll figure something out.”

“No. We’ll figure it out together. Quit acting like you’re doing this alone, Drake. You don’t have to carry the whole bloody world on your shoulders.”

He nodded firmly, before turning his attention back to his father. 

“Alright, what do we need to do?” 

Chapter 43

Draco, 

I’ve watched no less than twelve movies and read ten books, and yet my boredom has no end. I love my parents, I do, but they’re treating me as if I’m a wilting flower. Don’t they know that it’s going to take more than one measly curse to keep me down?

I’ve barely seen the light of day outside of my bedroom and our family den. Please give me an idea of something, ANYTHING, to entertain myself until school starts. 

I miss you terribly, 

Hermione

 

Draco, 

I received a letter from Gin this week in the muggle post. She used enough stamps that the letter probably could’ve made it the States. 

In her letter, she mentioned that Theo hasn’t been answering her, which made me feel a bit better, considering I haven’t heard from you in days. 

Is something wrong? I’m worried. 

H 

 

D,

Talk to me, please. I love you. 

Chapter 44

Fourteen days.

That’s how long it’d been since the last time she’d heard from Draco. Hermione knew that something was wrong, but she didn’t know what it was. It was the what-ifs that haunted her the most. Was he injured? Missing? Dead? 

The unknown flittered around every conscious thought, making it difficult to focus on anything else. She barely recognized how she’d survived the past two weeks, yet alone how she’d gotten onto the Hogwarts Express. When had she said goodbye to her parents? How had she greeted Harry and Ron? None of that was important. In fact, her brain had decided that all that did matter was searching for a head of platinum blonde among the masses of students that walked past their train compartment. 

“‘Mione, are you alright?” 

Ron asked the question, forcing her attention away from the glass panel in the compartment doorway. 

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” 

She blinked at him, finally noticing the concern in his blue gaze. 

“Because that’s the third question I’ve asked you, and the only one you’ve answered,” he said with a halfhearted chuckle. 

“You’re not worried about NEWTs already, are you? We aren’t even to the castle yet.” 

“That’s exactly it,” she responded simply. “I’m worried about NEWTs.” 

Ron tilted his head, assessing her deeper. 

“Seriously, what’s bothering you?” 

“Ron, leave her alone,” Harry mumbled. He too was busy staring out the window of the train, watching the scenery fly by them. 

“She doesn’t have to talk if she doesn’t want to.” 

“I’m just checking on her,” Ron said, somewhat defensively. 

“More than I can say about you. I don’t know what the deal is with either of you, but if we’re going to sit in silence then I’m going to go find a different cabin to sit in.”

“Be my guest.” 

“What in hell is your problem, mate?” 

The pair continued bickering beside her, but Hermione didn’t have it in her to put a stop to it. Instead, she just kept watching, hoping that maybe she’d see what she so desperately longed for. 

“—Honestly, Harry, I’d rather sit with Malfoy and the Slytherins if you’re going to act like this.”

The girl’s head snapped towards her friend. 

“Malfoy? Did you see him?” 

Ron blinked at her. 

“Yeah, of course. He got on the train with Nott before you got here. I could spot that ferrety git from a mile away, his hair is almost as blinding as his pompous attitude.” 

A glimmer of hope warmed deep in her stomach. He was okay.

“Where did they go?” Hermione demanded. 

“Uh, I dunno. Back of the train with the other snakes, I’d reckon. Why?“ 

Hermione swallowed, suddenly realizing her mistake. She scrambled to come up with an acceptable lie. 

“No reason. Just wondering why I haven’t seen him patrolling is all. Slytherin prefects are supposed to take the first shift.” 

“Oh,” Ron settled back into his seat, appeased by her excuse. 

“I don’t think Malfoy is the prefect this year. Nott was the one wearing the badge when they walked by. Snape must’ve come to his senses.” 

Hermione bit down on her tongue to stop the gasp from leaving her mouth. 

Not a prefect? What in the hell was going on. 

“Must be too busy being a death eater to uphold his prefect duties,” Harry joined into the conversation bitterly. 

“Harry, don’t say that,” Hermione snapped instinctively. “You have no proof that he’s a death eater.”

“I know that his father was at the Department of Mysteries,” Harry argued back. “It doesn’t make sense that he wasn’t captured like the rest of them.”

“Harry, we didn’t see any of them without their masks, we can’t know for sure. Mr. Malfoy easily could’ve not been there.”

“I know what I heard, Mione.” His tone was absolute. 

“The Malfoys are up to something, I know it, and I’ll prove it.” 

“Harry,” Hermione warned, “leave it alone. Don’t we have enough to deal with as it is?” 

“Fine. But you’ll see I’m right,” Harry all but growled back at her. He turned to face the window as Ron shot the girl an apologetic shrug.

Hermione tried desperately to keep the emotions off of her face. She’d already appeared worked up enough as it was, and she needed to remain calm before she blew her front entirely. To distract herself from the irate boy in front of her, she began to formulate a plan in her mind. She didn’t know why Draco had been avoiding her, but he was here, which meant that whatever it was, they could face it together. Maybe he’d been embarrassed about not being selected as the prefect, and that’s why he didn’t want to speak with her? Or perhaps the manor was being watched too closely, and he could no longer use the notebooks. The witch flexed and relaxed her fingers as a distraction. The knock on their compartment door nearly made her jump out of her seat. 

“Ginny,” Ron breathed in relief. “Finally, some pleasant company. Please tell me you’re staying.” 

“Sorry, Ron,” Ginny replied with a furrowed brow. “I’m actually here to borrow Hermione for a moment, if that’s alright. It appears Neville has lost Trevor again, and he’s quite adamant that you’re the best person to look for him.” 

Hermione stood quickly. 

“Yes, of course, anything for Neville.” She slipped out into the hallway and closed the door behind her before Ron could say another word. 

Ginny’s features were tense as the girls stared at one another. 

“Did you see them?”

“Yes. When they got on the train.”

“Did you speak with them?”

“No…it was the strangest thing, they wouldn’t even look at me.”

Hermione blew out a terse breath. 

“They’re hiding something.”

“Absolutely.” 

“What do we do about it?” 

Ginny, noticing a cluster of second year Hufflepuffs walking towards them, tugged Hermione into the only compartment with an open door. They stumbled in, staring awkwardly at the group of Ravenclaws they’d just interrupted. 

“Ginny?” 

“Oh! Um, hi Michael. Sorry, we were trying to avoid a traffic jam in the hallway.” A pink flush tinted her cheekbones. 

“No, it’s no problem,” Michael Corner assured the girl with a small smile. 

“Do you…do you want to sit down?” 

“Yeah! Sit back and stay a while,” Terry Boot chimed in with a grin. “You too, Granger. It’s been months since we’ve chatted. Loads to catch up on I’m sure.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes. 

“Thank you for the offer, but we’re actually helping Neville find his toad.” 

“Oh come on, he loses his toad at least once a week. Sit with us for a minute!” 

Three quick raps on the door pulled Terry’s eyes from Hermione’s, instead focusing on their new guest. 

“Uh, yes?”

“There’s too many people in here.” 

Hermione spun to face the familiar voice. Theo stood before her with a bored expression. He stared right past her at the boys already seated. 

“I thought you Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart. Is counting too difficult for you?” 

“It’s not their fault,” Ginny spoke up at last. “We came in here to let a group pass us in the hallway. We were just leaving.”

“Oh come on Ginny,” Boot said with a playful pout. “We thought you were staying.” 

“If they stay then you leave,” Theo spoke gruffly. “Four to a room. You don’t want to lose points before we even get there, do you?”

“Oh come on, Nott. No one follows the capacity rules on this train and you know it. Lighten up will ya? Or is that new prefect badge getting to your head?” 

“Don’t try me, Boot.”

“It’s fine! No need to argue, we’re headed out.” 

Hermione grasped Ginny’s elbow and pulled her back out into the hallway. Theo followed, latching the door behind them. He turned to walk away but Ginny placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Hey! No!” 

Theo froze, ensuring that no one was watching. Then, he spun on his heels to face them. Anxiety swirled in his brown gaze.

“Theo, you’ve been ignoring me for weeks. What the hell is going on?” Ginny demanded. He winced at her angry gaze. 

“I—I’m sorry.”

“Where is he, Theo?” Hermione opted for a softer tone, which brought a pained frown to the boy’s face. 

“He’s on the train, he’s—well, he’s here. I’m sorry, I really am, but I can’t do this. I have to go back before he wonders where I’ve gone.” 

“Theo!” Ginny dropped her voice to a low whisper. “Why are you blocking us out like this?” 

He didn’t answer, instead he reached out to squeeze her hand once, before pulling away and making his way back down the corridor with long strides. 

“Well that was bloody useless,” Ginny grumbled. “Those boys are dumber than I thought if they think they’re going to be able to keep this from us.” 

“Agreed. Draco better get ready, because the moment I get a chance to speak with him he’s not going to know what hit him.” 

Hermione glanced back at her friend. 

“Gin, what are we going to say when Ron speaks to Neville and finds out he wasn’t really missing Trevor?” 

Ginny grinned. 

“Don’t worry, Mione, I’m way ahead of you. I figured that odds were high that Trevor would go missing at least once on this train ride, so I took fate into my own hands.” 

From deep within the pockets of her room, Ginny produced a large toad. Despite the odd circumstances they were under, Hermione laughed. Ginny joined her. After a moment, both girls grew sober, the severity of their situation sinking in once again. 

“We’ll figure this out,” Ginny spoke fiercely, “Whatever it is, doesn’t matter. We’ve got it.”

Hermione nodded before her gaze wandered towards the direction where Theo had disappeared. Somewhere on the train, the boy she loved was hiding something. She hoped Ginny was right, and that his secret wouldn’t break them entirely.

++++++++++

By the time Hermione returned Trevor to Neville, changed into her robes, and said goodbye to Ginny, the Hogwarts Express was nearing its final destination. She made her way back to her original compartment to find only Ron, who was completely immersed in a quidditch magazine. 

“Where’s Harry?” She asked, taking the seat across from her friend. 

“He had to meet with some new professor, and then he was going to change into his robes, I think. Not entirely sure, we weren’t on speaking terms when he left.” 

“What did he do now?” Hermione all but groaned. Ron closed his periodical and glanced up at her. 

“He’s being a right prat is what. I get that what he’s going through is stressful, but we’re all under stress. Hogwarts is the only place where I feel like I don’t have to constantly look over my shoulder, you know? I want to hate Malfoy because he’s a ponce, not because he’s a death eater.” 

Hermione’s shoulders tensed.

“He’s not—“

Ron held up a hand. 

“I know, I know, we have no proof. I don’t want to argue you on this. Actually, I’d much rather avoid the subject altogether. How was your summer, Mione? Did you heal up okay?” 

Hermione sunk deeper into her seat and tried her best to keep up a conversation with Ron that steered clear of discussions of war or Draco. By the time they made it to the thestral drawn carriages, they’d almost been able to avoid it entirely. 

“Where could Harry possibly be?” Hermione thought aloud as they waited their turn in line.

“Beats me,” Ron supplied evenly. “Maybe he went and found Dean and Seamus.” 

The pair clamored into a carriage and continued their trek to the castle in silence, both lost to their own thoughts. But by the time they settled into their seats, still with no sign of Harry, Hermione began to worry. 

“Do you think something’s happened?” She whispered. 

“I’m sure he’s fine.” Ron’s head swiveled to look behind her, blowing out a shocked breath. 

“Or maybe he’s not.” 

Hermione spun to track Ron’s gaze and sucked in a gulp of air. Harry moved towards them quickly with his head down. When he looked up, Hermione noticed that his left eye socket was turning a deep purple, and he had a gash across his nose. 

“Harry!” She scooted over and pulled him down beside her. 

“What in Merlin’s name happened to you?”

“Sodding Malfoy that’s what,” he spit out. 

“I used the invisibility cloak and went to his compartment to spy on him and—“

“You did WHAT!?” Hermione cut him off. Her thoughts spun around her. Whatever Draco was hiding from her certainly wasn’t information that Harry needed to find out. Fear slithered up her throat, constricting her breathing. 

“It was pointless,” Harry muttered. “They had nothing to say. What’s worse is that Malfoy somehow knew I was in there. He pulled the cabin doors shut, hit me with a stunner, and then did this.” He gestured vaguely towards his face. 

“Told me that if I so much as tried to do it again that he’d hit me with a hex even you’d be proud of.” 

Hermione choked back an inappropriate laugh, instead shifting her face to one of concern. 

“Harry, that was a brash move, even for you. How would you feel if someone was spying on you?” 

“There is someone spying on me, Hermione. Voldemort could be in my head at any time. You have no idea what that feels like!” 

“Harry—“

“No. You don’t get to shower me with your concerns while you still believe that we shouldn’t hold the death eaters accountable!”

“Harry I’m not saying that I just—“

“I’m going to figure out what’s going on with the Malfoys and you can’t stop me.” 

Hermione snapped her jaw shut forcefully and turned back to the front of the room. Arguing with Harry wasn’t worth the energy. 

To distract herself from the stubborn git sitting beside her, she listened to Dumbledore’s speech. Shockingly, Snape had vacated his position as Potions Professor, and instead had taken up the role in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Lovely, yet another thing for Harry to complain about. The new Potions Professor, Horace Slughorn, was an older man with a balding head and kind eyes. He must’ve been the one who wanted to meet with Harry, although she pitied the man if her friend had been in the same mood he’d been in all day when he met him. Dumbledore continued to drone on with wise words about supporting one another, and seeking similarities that may be hidden behind prejudices. Of course he knew exactly what to say, however she doubted either of her friends were listening to a word of it. Instead, they appeared to still be arguing quietly beside her. Figures. Frustrated, Hermione’s gaze turned to the Slytherin table. Her eyes met Theo’s, who looked away almost immediately. Disappointment sank like a stone in her stomach. Draco was seated facing away from her, so all she could see was his blonde hair and stiff shoulders. He could feel her eyes burning into him, she was sure of it, but he too didn’t turn around. She sighed, and then shifted her focus back to her own table. Ginny, seated across from her, sent her a gentle smile. 

Dinner appeared before them, and Hermione busied herself with filling a plate, but she barely tasted the food. Everything paled in comparison to her growing need to speak with Draco. She waited until both Harry and Ron were distracted, speaking with the other boys from their year, before she pulled out her wand and pointed it at her soulmate. 

“Room of requirement. Tonight.” 

She watched Draco’s spine grow incrementally straighter, and knew that he received the message.

Later that night, she paced the room of requirement, again and again, waiting for the telltale rattle of the door alerting her to his arrival, but it never came. One hour turned to two, then three, then four. Finally, Hermione came to terms with the sickening reality that Draco wasn’t coming. He’d never done this before. 

She fell to floor in the middle of the room, letting the tears that she’d held back all day fall in earnest. She sobbed, releasing the pent up fear and pain that had plagued her for two weeks. Eventually, the tears subsided, and a new thought began to take shape within her mind. She knew Draco, she knew that he loved her, he’d proven it time and time again. Their magic was bound together, for Merlin’s sake, and he’d never given her reason to doubt his devotion before. Therefore, she knew that he wasn’t avoiding her for nothing. Whatever cards Draco was holding close were vitally important, and he was choosing to shoulder those burdens alone. Well, she simply wasn’t going to let him do that. Under the flickering torch light of the room, Hermione devised a plan. Draco needed her help, and he was getting it whether he wanted it or not. 

Chapter 45

Hermione awoke the next morning with a new sense of resolve pumping through her veins. Although she’d barely gotten any sleep after sneaking back into the dorms, she hadn’t felt this awake in weeks. Ginny found her in the bathroom, humming as she brushed her teeth. 

“Good news last night, I take it?” Ginny asked, bumping her hip gently against hers. Hermione spit into the sink. 

“No, actually. No news at all!”

Ginny turned to look at her friend, her eyes wide. 

“He didn’t show?”

“Nope,” she popped the p. 

“Then why, pray tell, are you in such a good mood?”

“Because I’ve come up with a plan,” Hermione grinned. “If the Prince won’t crack, I’ll just go after the weakest link.”

Both girls looked at each other and then spoke simultaneously. 

“Theo.” 

A devious smirk overtook Ginny’s features. 

“These boys don’t know what’s coming for them.” 

+++++++++++++

Despite Hermione’s desire to speak with Draco, she held firm to the promise of her plan in motion. If he wanted to ignore her, then fine, two could play at that game. The first day was easy enough. She positioned herself tactfully in the Great Hall to never look near the Slytherin table, and she spent her time in the hallways catching up with fellow Gryffindors about their summer holiday. She then made her way out to the greenhouses, for back to back advanced lessons, where she’d sidled up next to Neville for company. Draco and Theo, fortunately, had chosen to opt out of NEWT level herbology, so they were no where to be seen. She may have been struggling all day to pay attention, but she pushed through regardless. She discovered that when she tried hard enough, she could nearly convince herself to ignore the aching hole that existed in her heart. 

It was the second day, when she was finally able to act. The first class of the day was charms. The room appeared to be set up in rows of tables, each table fitting two people. Like many of her other classes, she guessed that this year would focus on partner work, which created an opportunity. Hermione’s eyes surveyed the classroom, narrowing in on her target. She stepped forward boldly, leaving Ron confused behind her.

“‘Mione where are you going?”

She ignored him. Instead she marched directly towards a familiar head of brown waves. 

“Theodore?” She asked innocently. Theo’s head turned from his textbook to eye her skeptically. 

“Yes?”

“I don’t think we’ve ever been properly introduced. Hermione Granger,” she stuck out her hand. He stared at her for a moment, his mouth twitching with the ghost of a smile, before he placed his hand in hers and shook once firmly. 

“Theo Nott.”

“Pleasure.”

“So what can I do for you, Granger?” Theo’s demeanor appeared to be only mildly interested, but Hermione could tell by the edge in his voice that he was intrigued. 

“Well, I was wondering if you had a partner for Charms.” 

Behind her, she heard a gasp, probably by Ron, followed by the collective murmurings of her fellow Gryffindors. 

“I do not,” Theo said, “by all means, have a seat.” 

Hermione promptly sat down and began pulling supplies out of her bag. 

“You’re causing quite the stir,” Theo muttered under his breath and she smiled. 

“Draco still won’t talk to me.”

Theo stilled.

“I know.”

“Do you know why?”

“You already know I can’t tell you that.” 

Hermione leaned over, pretending to pick up a dropped quill, and spoke quickly. 

“I figured as much….listen Theo, I know it’s something bad, but he won’t let me in, and apparently neither will you. This way, if he chooses to ignore me, I’ll have a way to still communicate with you two without arising too much suspicion.” 

A frown tugged at the corners of Theo’s lips.

“Hermione, I’m not trying to shut you out. You have to know how hard this is for me, for him.”

“Yeah? Imagine how I feel in this situation.” She appraised him with an arched brow, willing him to argue her. Theo grimaced and then sighed.

“He’s going to kill me for this.” 

Hermione looked behind her newfound partner to the entry way of the classroom where a rush of students were flooding in. Draco, who had just entered, stared at the two of them. His hand was gripped so tightly around his wand that she was afraid he’d snap it in half. She turned back to Theo. 

“I think you can hold your own.”

Theo turned his laugh into a cough and shook his head. Professor Flitwick waddled into the room, signifying the beginning of the period. He gave a curious look to the pair seated in front of him and then turned to address the class. 

“Good afternoon students! Welcome to NEWT Preparation Charms. We’re going to have a very exciting year, starting off with useful household charms and then moving into other varieties of spellwork. To begin, I want to see how closely students paid attention to their summer reading. I will need each pair of students to work on bottomless extension charms. Points will be awarded to the first person who can fit themselves into the object that I have left on your table! Let’s begin!” 

Flitwick clapped his hands together twice and the students turned towards one another. 

“Bottomless extension charms he said? Hmm, If only I knew a witch who could fit the entire world in a certain school trunk of hers.” 

Theo waggled his eyebrows and Hermione laughed. She’d been practicing extension charms for years, ever since she’d discovered the spell in a book in the Malfoy Library. Theo had even been the one to help her practice. She quieted herself quickly after receiving a few curious looks from two Hufflepuffs seated beside them. 

“Go on then,” he murmured. “Be the swot we know and love.” She rolled her eyes and then moved her wand in a complicated motion above the bowl in front of them.

“Capacious extremis,” she said with great confidence. 

“Should we wait a few minutes so it doesn’t look so obvious?” Hermione asked but Theo shook his head.

“Absolutely not Granger! I’m a Slytherin and we play every advantage we can get. You, my dear girl, are an advantage. Now would you like to do the honors or should I?” 

“By all means,” she gestured him forward and he made a great deal of standing on his chair. 

He turned to his Gryffindor friend and spoke loud enough for all to hear.

“See you on the other side, Granger.” 

He sent her a mock solute and then stepped into the bowl, disappearing from sight. 

“Marvelous!” Professor Flitwick cried. 

“Excellent spellwork Miss Granger and Mr. Nott, ten points to each of your respective houses.” 

“Great, now she’s earning points for the Slytherins.” Ron’s loud whispers traveled across the room and Hermione’s shoulders tensed. Before she had a chance to respond, however, she heard his characteristic yelp. 

“What in the bloody hell! Harry why’d you pinch me?” 

“I didn’t!”

Hermione smiled and looked down at her shoes, she knew exactly who could send a wandless pinching hex without getting caught. Maybe he did still care after all. 

“Granger!” Theo yelled from the bottom of the bowl and she peered down to look at him.

“Yes?”

“Little help here? You didn’t build any stairs!”

“Build them yourself, Nott, you’re a wizard after all.”

“Yeah and you’re the brightest witch of our age,” he said with a charming smile. She laughed and pointed her wand down to him. 

“Wingardium Leviosa.”

“Shit!” Theo’s body floated up and out of the bowl, and he tumbled back into his seat rather clumsily, inciting laughter from those around them.

“Little warning next time?”

“First you ask for help, then you complain about it, make up your mind Nott, so moody,” she teased him and Theo threw back his head and laughed in full, not particularly caring what his classmates had to think about it. 

++++++++++++++++

From across the room, Draco’s jealousy made him want to crawl out of his skin. It wasn’t fair that Theo got to sit with her. Sure, there were people who disagreed with the pairing, but it was still accepted. Theo’s name didn’t carry nearly as much scorn as Malfoy did. Watching the two of them made him want to burn himself off his family tree, consequences be damned. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t force himself away from her, but what other choice did he have? The Dark Lord had already been suspicious, and they couldn’t risk arousing any more attention. He saw firsthand what the consequences looked like, he knew what they could lose. What he didn’t know, however, was what to do about it. His family had been given an impossible task to prove their loyalty, and Draco’s success was paramount to their survival. But he didn’t have a solution, and the only person he knew who would, was the one he desperately wanted to keep out of it. Damnit. 

His feet brought them to their table on their own volition. Hermione eyed him warily, but did not speak. 

“What do you need mate?” Theo asked.

“A word, if you will,” Draco gritted out. He didn’t look at Hermione, he couldn’t. One look into those molten brown eyes would have him diving off the deep end, and he couldn’t risk that.

“I’ll go check in on Harry,” Hermione murmured and she rose to leave, brushing past Draco’s shoulder in the process. His body stilled, if he dared make a motion it would be to sweep her into his arms. 

“Theodore Nott, Hermione? What are you thinking!” Weasley’s perpetual loudness was not missed by the class. Ron was seated next to Lavender Brown, who appeared to be delighted that a dispute between the two was taking place. 

“I can sit with whomever I please, Ronald. Now sit down.” 

“But he’s the enemy!” He sputtered. 

Draco turned to watch Hermione level Ron with a stare that could’ve knocked down a forest. 

“How many times do I have to tell you to stop flying off the handle about things you know nothing about? Keep your anger in check, Ron. Seriously.”

“Oh and I suppose you know so much about him after one class?” He sneered. Draco shifted forward, immediately ready to defend but Theo clasped his shoulder and held him back.

“I don’t have to know much about Theo to know that he has as little control over his circumstances as we all do. We are children thrown into a war we did not start. So for once, I’d encourage you to look outside of those tiny prejudiced boxes you live in and realize that the world isn’t as simple as you make it out to be.” 

The boy gaped at her in silence, along with the rest of the class. If she noticed she made no mention of it. 

“Harry,” she turned to her friend who also appeared to be in shock. His seat mate, Padma, nudged him back to focus. 

“You’re flicking your wrist in the wrong direction, which makes your extension charm into a reduction charm.” 

He nodded dumbly. 

“Oh, thanks ‘Mione.”

“You’re thanking her?” Ron appeared to snap out of his stupor first. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Harry. She is choosing to spend her time with a death eater!”

“Enough!” Hermione hissed, shoving her wand at Ron’s nose. 

“I have had enough of your assumptions and blind accusations about people you know nothing about. Have we not learned that wizards are more than what is whispered about them behind closed doors?That pariahs are people, too?” She honed in on Harry and gave him a meaningful stare. 

“I thought you of all people would know that.” Her voice had dropped to a whisper, thick with emotion, and Harry nodded once contritely, completely aware of who she was referring to. Ron, obtuse as always, and blinded by his own frustration, did not. 

“You’re crazy, Hermione. Absolutely crazy, and if you’re going to keep acting like this then go ahead and hang out with the snakes. We don’t need you here anyway.”

She looked at the boy in front of her. The one who saved her from a mountain troll, risked a den of spiders, went to the chamber of secrets. She did not see any of that boy in the apathetic blue eyes that stared back at her. 

She turned from him without a response and went back to her and Theo’s table. The classroom was silent. 

“Back to work! Second place can still be awarded points!” Flitwick’s forced cheer broke the students out of their daze and they began to converse with one another. Draco still stood at the pair’s table, his fingers squeezed into fists so tight he thought he might draw blood. 

“Granger—“ Theo started but Draco cut him off. 

“Hermione,” he spoke lowly. Her eyes snapped to his, and what he saw in them broke his heart along with any defenses he had left. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’ll tell you everything, I promise. No more secrets.” The words he spoke were so quiet it was amazing that Hermione could hear them at all, but she did. 

She nodded once, relief shining in her eyes. He wanted to wrap her in a hug, tell her that she was beautiful and brave and strong and that Weasley was a foul-mouthed git who he’d like to hex off the face of the planet, but he didn’t. Instead he gave her the faintest of nods and returned his gaze to Theo. 

“I’ll catch up with you after class.”

Theo chuckled, 

“Yeah, alright see you.” 

The blonde all but drug himself back to his seat next to Blaise Zabini. 

“What an interesting day,” Blaise purred. 

“What ever could a lion be doing playing with snakes?” 

“I don’t know, Zabini,” Draco drawled. “You’ve looked over to Patil’s table more times than I can count. Maybe you can answer your own question.”

Blaise was silent for a moment. 

“Oh Malfoy,” he murmured at last, “if you’re not careful, someone just might follow your trail of deflection right back to the secret you’re so vigilantly keeping.” 

“I could say the same to you.” 

Blaise chuckled.

“You’re right.” 

The two continued to work in silence, knowing to not push one another any further. They both understood the painful reality that the time to keep their secrets was quickly running out. 

Chapter 46

Notes:

Hi all,
Thanks to everyone who’s read this far! By this point you’ve probably recognized that this is where I start to veer away from the canon storyline. In this story I wanted to imagine a world where our MCs grow up with support, both from adults and each other. I always thought it was a bit wild that Lucius allowed his son to take the mark so young, so I decided to see what it could look like if he didn’t. This is a warm fuzzy, low angst type of read, but definitely still a few important plot points to come! I also really appreciate the comments so far, it’s crazy to me that anyone has taken the time to read this, so thank you!

 

Neither Hermione nor Ginny spoke as Draco recounted the story to them later that night. They were sprawled across four chairs in the Room of Requirement, as none of the group thought it was wise to discuss such serious matters in their regular alcove. Ginny picked at her cuticles, glancing up with raised brows at each revelation that flowed from the boy’s mouth. Hermione, on the other hand, sat perfectly still, only her eyes tracking his movements. Theo looked deceptively calm, stretched on the chaise beside the girls, but they knew better. He was as uneasy as the rest of them.

“And, well, that’s it,” Draco faltered. Silence held for only a moment before Ginny jumped to action. 

“Okay, so Tommy Boy gave your family a monster of a task, your dad has one hand, and Dumbledore is good as dead?” 

Draco blinked at the redhead, who had counted off the parts of the story one by one on her nimble fingers.

“A rather blasé way to put it, Gin, but yes.” 

“Great.” She stood up, clapping her hands together. “Nothing we can’t handle.”

“I—Ginny are you feeling alright?” He tilted his head at her as if evaluating a wild animal. She snorted in response. 

“Of course I’m okay. If you’re referring to the fact that I’m not panicking, it’s because there’s no good in that. We’re all in this together,” she shot a pointed look at Draco who flinched. “And I am confident that there is nothing we can’t do when we put our four heads together.” 

“Ginny’s right,” Hermione agreed, vacating her spot in favor of wrapping her arms around Draco’s shoulders. He slouched into her, the weight of his secrets pressing down.  She placed a gentle kiss on his temple before continuing. 

“This sucks, Draco, I’m not saying it doesn’t. But it could’ve been worse. You could’ve been marked, you could’ve had to face this alone! But your father stood up for you, and therefore we can’t let his efforts go in vain. So we’re going to figure this out.” She took a deep breath before spitting out her next sentence. 

“We’re going to let death eaters into the school, make sure no students get unnecessarily harmed, and ensure that…Tom, doesn’t discover any of us in the process…simple.” 

“Yeah, simple,” Theo echoed with a grin from the other side of the room. “I told you she’d have a plan, Drake.” 

“Well, I don’t have a plan actually,” Hermione’s shoulders dropped only slightly. 

“But that’s no matter, because we’ll come up with something. We have all year after all. But Theo does make a valid point.” She turned to look down at Draco, who was already peering up at her.

“You should’ve told us, you stubborn prat.” 

She then flicked him rather hard on the ear and he yelped in protest. 

“Hey!”

“Oh don’t you ‘hey’ her, Malfoy,” Ginny chimed in. “You are lucky that’s all she did. I’m still ready to cast a bat bogey hex on the both of you!”

“Me! What did I do?!” Theo defended, but quickly backtracked with his hands raised when he saw the murderous look Ginny flashed him. 

“You didn’t answer my letters either, you arse! Guilty by association!” 

“That’s not fair! It wasn’t my secret to tell.”

“It also wasn’t your secret to keep, especially not from us!”

The pair stood toe to toe now, Ginny with a fiery gaze and Theo with a smirk flickering on his lips. 

“You’re cute when you’re angry, G.”

“Don’t you dare flirt with me, Theodore.” 

“Alright, alright enough!” Draco’s shout called all the attention of the room back to him. 

“I am sorry, to all of you, for thinking that I needed to keep this to myself. I was trying to protect you from the burden, and I realize now how foolish that was. For some unknown reason, you all seem to keep sticking around, despite the perilous danger hanging around me puts you in—“

“Oh please, Draco, we were friends with Harry first,” Ginny interrupted him with a scoff. “Perilous danger is his middle name. We’re nothing if not loyal!” 

“Harry Perilous Danger Potter does have a nice ring to it,” Theo added, and Ginny laughed. 

“Will you two cut it out? I’m trying to apologize!” 

“No, you were embarking on another woe-is-me tirade.” Ginny rolled her eyes. “If you’re going to apologize at least make it worthwhile to listen to. I don’t know what more we have to do to show you, mate, but we aren’t going anywhere. Your shitty ancestral familial circumstances and unfortunate associations to a dark wizard, aside. We are your friends, we have your back, and we’re going to help you dig yourself out of whatever situation you happen to find yourself in. So for Godric’s sake will you just accept it already?” 

“Accept it?” 

“We love you, Draco Sodding Malfoy. All three of us. Gods knows why, considering how big of a secretive twat you are.”

Hermione snaked a hand around his waist, leaning her head in to kiss his cheek in agreement. Theo simply nodded, standing beside Ginny with a stupid grin plastered on his face. 

Draco’s face began to heat, and he could feel the blush that crept up his neck. He’d never been all that good with displays of emotion, but an outright declaration of loyalty from a whole group of them was almost too much to bear. He’d been taught to mask his emotions for so long that he wasn’t even sure what the appropriate response was anymore. Hermione, seeming to sense his growing panic, leaned in and whispered delicately in his ear. 

“Try that apology again. I know you can do it.”

Draco took a steadying breath and then began to speak. 

“You’re right. I-uh I’m not great at this kind of thing.” He scratched at the back of his head nervously. 

“Thank you, all of you, for sticking by me. I’m not sure why or how I deserve it, but I’m gods damned lucky to have all of you. I’m sorry for being a prat—“

“Secretive twat,” Ginny corrected. 

“Brooding ponce,” Theo added.

“Sodding tosser,” Hermione finished off with a giggle. 

Draco groaned, shaking his head in exasperation. 

“Yes, right, I’m all of those things. But I’m also a Slytherin, and we learn from our mistakes. I’m sorry, and I promise no more secrets. Whatever comes next we face together.”

“Hear hear!” Ginny cheered, jumping up to place a smacking kiss on the boy’s already red cheeks. Draco didn’t miss the angry scowl that flashed across Theo’s face when she did it. He tucked that thought away for later.

“Alright, enough of this serious talk. We have an entire year to figure it out, and more importantly it seems we only have a year left before absolutely everything turns to shit. So let’s make the best of it eh?” 

“Accio fire whisky!” Theo yelled. 

Draco leaned back into his seat, Hermione beside him, and they watched the other two childishly chase each other across the room. He couldn’t help the smile that slid onto his face. For the first time in a long while, maybe ever, Draco allowed himself to believe that things may turn out alright. 

Chapter 47

 

Hermione had forgiven Draco for his mistakes, at least, she thought she had. But as the days stretched into the semester, she couldn’t help but notice the lingering hesitation that she felt. For starters, he was still harboring secrets. It was subtle, but she noticed his whispered conversations with Theo, and even Ginny, when they thought she wasn’t paying attention. Then, there were the odd gaps of time when he couldn’t be accounted for. When she asked him about them his excuses were pitiful. Quidditch meetings that Theo didn’t have to attend? Additional study sessions in Divination? Yeah right. For a boy who was raised to lie, one would think he’d be better at it. 

Days turned to weeks, and Hermione found herself more and more fed up. Did her friends think she was too weak to handle something? Had her fall in the Department of Mysteries scared them that badly? She was fully capable. No, more than capable of dealing with whatever it was. She was the brightest witch of the age, for crying out loud, and she wouldn’t be relegated to reserve duty. 

By the time Friday rolled around, she was prepared to confront Draco and tell him just that. She knew that the boys didn’t have class that afternoon and would most likely be in the alcove. She marched herself towards the back of the library, fists clenched in anticipation, but she drew up short when she heard their voices, stopping to listen in. 

“Do you really think you’ll be able to keep this from her?” Theo mused. “She’s smarter than this.” 

“Oh piss off. I’ve thought through this extensively,” Draco responded with a laugh. “She’s none the wiser on what’s going on.”

“Where have you been hiding all the gifts, anyway?” 

“Room of Requirement. I’ve found it’s an excellent place to keep my secrets.” 

“Yeah, you’ve been busy in there lately, that’s for sure.”

Hermione’s heart dropped into her stomach. Was Draco…cheating? 

The thought had never even crossed her mind, but now that it was there, it planted itself firmly into her frontal lobe and grew.  Those small voices that she’d learn to silence over the years came back to her in full force. 

What would a handsome pureblood wizard ever want to do with a mudblood like you. 

She’d never once felt like her soul bond to Draco had been a curse. In fact, she considered it one of her most incredible gifts. But as the words of Draco and Theo’s private conversation swept over her she became concerned that Draco’s feelings did not match her own. Was he unsatisfied in their relationship? Did he feel trapped? Suddenly, his missing lapses of time made sense. Of course he’d lie to her about them! An unwanted picture painted itself in her mind of Draco and nameless witches sneaking away into secret meetings. The muscles in her abdomen tangled and she let out a gasp. 

Oh no. Busted. 

She could hear the characteristic scrape of chairs against the carpeting, one of the boys was coming to see who was there. They couldn’t see her like this. Thinking quickly, she tapped her head once with a disillusionment charm. Then, she mustered up all the strength she had, and turned and ran. 

++++++++++

Draco thought it strange that he hadn’t seen Hermione since breakfast. Her familiar curls were no where to be found at lunch, in the library, or even outside around the Black Lake. He’d written in their notebooks, but a reply never came. He was trying to be reasonable, not jump to the immediate conclusion that she was in need of a rescue, but as the hours grew longer so too did his paranoia. By the time they entered the Great Hall for dinner and the girl was still missing, his panic hit a fever pitch. 

Ginny was here, Potter and Weasley too, which meant that wherever Hermione was she was alone. 

“Theo, I need to find her,” Draco whispered intently. Theo turned to him, maybe to calm him down, but the look on his friend’s face left no room for argument. 

“Alright you overprotective sod,” Theo grumbled. “I’ll come up with a distraction. Give me a minute.”

Theo turned to face the rest of the tables in the Great Hall. Seeing an opportunity, he discreetly pulled out his wand and muttered a complex incantation that Draco had never heard before. With a slight flick of his wrist, a spell slithered across the ground inconspicupusly like a snake before crawling up the robes of an unsuspecting Ravenclaw. 

When it hit him, Michael Corner jolted upwards as if he’d been shocked, and then, to the surprise of everyone in the room, he began to dance. 

“What in the world are you doing mate?” 

Terry Boot laughed in delight, but when he clapped his hand on Michael’s shoulder, he found that he too was suddenly up dancing. 

“What the hell is this?!” 

Somewhere from the Hufflepuff table, music erupted from a wand, and both boys continued to dance despite trying their best to stop. 

Draco looked at Theo, whose eyes sparkled with mirth. 

“Where did you learn a spell like that?”

“Malfoy family library of course,” Theo burst out into a peal of laughter as more of the Ravenclaw boys tried to hold down their friends, resulting in their own unstoppable dance moves. 

“Is it dark magic?” Draco questioned.

“Certainly not!” Theo had the nerve to appear offended before conceding with a sheepish shrug. “Although it may fall into a bit of a gray area.” 

The corner of Draco’s mouth lifted in a smirk. 

“And of all the people in the castle, you just had to cast it on Michael Corner?” 

Theo’s gaze grew dark.

“No one mistreats Ginny and gets away with it.” 

“Yeah, alright mate, we’ll pretend that’s all this is.”

He shoved at Draco’s shoulder. 

“Now’s your chance, go!” 

Draco nodded, slipping out of his seat as the pandemonium continued. Professor Flitwick had now been wrapped into dancing, and some students at other tables began dancing just for the fun of it. Dumbledore had yet to put a stop to anything, enjoying the madness that ensued around him with a twinkle in his eye. Draco took one last glance towards the head table, where he noticed Uncle Severus glowering at Theo with an unimpressed glare. Oh well, Theo would talk himself out of a punishment somehow. He always did. 

The boy exited through the back doorway and then stopped. Where could Hermione possibly be? He closed his eyes and allowed his magic to overtake his senses, he figured that if they were linked together, that the soul bond would be able to lead him to her. With intuition guiding him, Draco climbed the weathered steps up flights and down corridors until he found himself in front of an unassuming wall. He walked past three times, thinking to himself that he needed to find Hermione. At last, a door revealed itself, and he hurried to enter. 

Once inside, he recognized that he’d entered a replica of a room he’d only seen once. In the back corner was a single twin bed with a white ruffled bedspread, to the right of that was a large bookcase overfilled with both magical and muggle tomes, and beyond that in the opposite corner, underneath a window, sat a brown rocking chair. Perched in that chair was his betrothed, her head buried into her hands. 

“Hermione?!” Draco called out in alarm. “What’s wrong love?” 

Hermione’s head whipped up from where it was resting. He could see from her blood shot eyes and sniffling nose that she’d be crying for quite some time. 

“Go away!” She scrambled into a standing position, holding her wand forward. Draco put up his hands in surrender. 

“Love, please, tell me what’s going on. What has you so upset?” 

“You!” 

“Me?” Draco cocked his head to the side in confusion. His mind spun as it tried to pinpoint what he’d done to cause such distress. 

“What did I do?”

“You know what you did, Draco Lucius Malfoy!” She hissed at him. Angry magic crackled around her, and Draco’s breath hitched. Above her wand, a flock of sparrows materialized, aimed directly at him. 

“Hermione,” he spoke cautiously, eyeing the birds. He’d only seen her unleash the creatures once on Theo when he’d let a prank at the manor go too far, and he was not keen on finding out just how painful those beaks could be. 

“Can we please sit down and talk about this? Whatever it is I’ve done, I’ll fix it, I promise. I just need you to tell me what’s happened.” 

“You—you—you don’t want to be with me!” Hermione’s voice cracked on the last word, and she collapsed back into her seat in despair, the birds dissolving as she sobbed. 

Draco couldn’t take another moment of watching his witch in pain. He raced forward and swept the girl into his arms, pressing light kisses along her hairline. 

“Shhh, love it’s alright,” he soothed. 

“No it’s not!” She blubbered helplessly. “You’re hiding something from me, I just know it! I know that you’re not actually going to quidditch meetings and study lessons. When I came to confront you today in the library I overheard you and Theo talking about presents and secrets and it all makes sense! You’re cheating on me, Draco, and you’re using the room to do it!”

Draco’s entire body tensed, and before he could compose himself, he broke out into a fit of laughter. 

“And now you’re laughing at me!” The girl sobbed louder, trying to pull out of Draco’s firm grip. 

“Hermione,” he wheezed, “My silly, gorgeous, witch. I’m not cheating on you, I could never do that. You’re the love of my life.” 

She pulled her head out of the crook of Draco’s neck just far enough to stare into his mercury gaze. Amusement danced within his irises, irking her even further. 

“Then what are you hiding Draco!” 

The Slytherin sighed, before placing another kiss between her eyebrows. 

“Your birthday party.” 

“My—“ Hermione trailed off, the wheels in her brain spinning. 

“But my birthday isn’t until next week!”

“I know,” he said with fond exasperation. “Do you know how hard it is to surprise a girl like you? I’ve been planning this since the first week. Not to mention that we have a History of Magic test on your actual birthday, which means you’ll need at least two days prior to panic study, which means your celebration could be no later than Sunday.”

“You—you—“

“I love you,” he said, placing a finger on her lips as if to quiet her. 

“I love you, I am not cheating on you, and I’m sorry if my partial conversation with Theo today led you to believe otherwise. But Hermione, why didn’t you just come talk to me about it? I hate to know that you’ve been up here crying in your childhood bedroom for hours when I could’ve fixed it with a simple conversation.” 

“I guess it was just easy to believe,” she mumbled. His eyes widened in surprise.

“Easy to believe?” He mimicked. “You think I’d so easily be unfaithful to you?”

“No!” She corrected quickly. “I just—I could understand, if this isn’t, if I’m not, what you wanted…” 

Again, Draco paused. In that moment more than ever, he wanted to go back in time and punch his younger self for ever saying anything vile to her. He wanted to rip apart any person who’d ever given Hermione reason to doubt herself. She was the most lovely creature on earth. Beautiful, kind, wickedly smart; and the wizard had no doubt that it was he who had miraculously ended up with someone so far out of his league, not the other way around.

Draco reached out, placing two fingers from his right hand beneath the girl’s chin, and then lifted upwards until their eyes connected. 

“Hermione,” he spoke seriously. “You are the only thing I want. I will never not love you, never not want you. I’ll burn down the bloody world if it means you’re safe. Do you understand me?” 

She nodded. He wasn’t satisfied with that response, so he kept speaking. 

“The day that I found out we were soulmates was one of the greatest days of my life. You were frozen in a lake, and I was terrified, but all I could think was that I was so unbelievably lucky that my magic, and my love, was bound to you. There has never been and will never be anyone else for me, Hermione, only you.”

He pulled forward one of her hands and kissed each knuckle with a gentle reverence. When one hand was complete, he moved to grasp the next, murmuring words of love and affirmation between each kiss. 

“I love you,” she whispered at last. Draco blinked up at her beaming. 

“The most beautiful sentence I’ve ever heard.”

“And I’m sorry,” Hermione let out a choked laugh. “I really buggered this one up, huh?” 

Draco shook his head. 

“No, I should be the one to apologize. I should’ve known better than to try to hide something from you.” 

“I’m sure the surprise is brilliant?” She offered weakly and he rolled his eyes. 

“Well I thought it was, but you know what they say about best laid plans.”

He stood, tugging her hand with him. 

“Come on, you haven’t eaten dinner, and if we’re lucky the Great Hall may still be a dance party.” 

“What?”

“It’s what I get for leaving Theo in charge of distractions.” 

The pair vacated the room laughing, leaving behind insecure thoughts of illicit affairs with it. 

Chapter 48

It was the night before Hermione’s birthday, and she was supposed to be studying. Supposed to be, being the key phrase, as there was little studying actually being done. Currently, the girl was leaned forward in a large chair beside Harry in the Gryffindor common room. Her and Ron still were not on speaking terms, so Harry was attempting to maintain a separate friendship with each of them. Lately, it meant that he spent classes with Ron, and studied with Hermione. For the most part, Hermione was fine with this arrangement, the less opportunity she had to fight with Ron the better.

Outside appearances made it look as though the witch was deeply focused on her textbook. But in her mind, Hermione played back the memories of her carefully planned birthday party from a few nights before. Draco had taken extensive effort to turn the Room of Requirement into a replicated version of The Three Broomsticks. He decorated the entire thing in muggle style decorations, down to the pointy paper hats and paper poppers. Theo and Ginny were there, of course, and he’d somehow snuck in Poppy to make a host of birthday desserts including an obscenely large frosted strawberry cake. The gifts Draco had been collecting were also extravagant. A pair of sparkling emerald earrings from him, a set of golden potion stirring rods from Theo, and hair smoothing potions from Ginny. Narcissa gifted her an ornate vase of flowers from the manor, charmed to never wilt, and even Lucius had sent his own gift, a magic translator that translated foreign spell books into English. The quartet drank and danced and laughed the night away. She bit back a smile just thinking of all the thoughtful gestures.

“Ugh, ‘Mione this is the worst!”

Harry’s call to her snapped her out of her thoughts.

“What’s the worst?”

“All these dates and people! They get mixed up in my head. I can’t remember which potioneer cured dragonpox or how many years the Goblin Wars lasted. It’s all a jumbled mess.”

“Well actually there were multiple Goblin Wars—“

The look Harry gave her silenced her.

“I give up.”

He rose suddenly, reaching out towards her with an outstretched hand.

“Come on!”

“What? Where are we going?”

“On a study break adventure!” He grinned at her, his vibrant green eyes sparkling.

“It’s nearly your birthday after all. Time to have a bit of fun!”

“But studying—“

“Oh come on,” he argued playfully, “you know you’ve done enough studying for the both of us.”

“Harry, that’s not how studying works!”

He laughed.

“I know, I know, but to tell you the truth Mione, I don’t think I’m going to learn anything else from this dreadful book. The more I think about it the more I’m convinced that Professor Binns has somehow haunted it himself.”

Well, even Hermione couldn’t argue that logic. With an exaggerated sigh she accepted his hand, letting him pull her up and off the couch.

“Seriously, where are we going?”

The pair had made the trek down from Gryffindor Tower, deep into the center of the castle.

“I’m not Sirius, I’m Harry,” Harry nudged her shoulder with his own. Seeing her unamused face, he continued.

“We’re going to the only place to get a birthday cake at this hour, of course!”

She halted her footsteps.

“The kitchens?!”

He chuckled, grabbing at her hand to pull her along.

“Harry, how do you know how to get into the kitchens?”

“I uh-have my ways. Doesn’t matter. We’re going!”

Harry tugged her down the final hallway, stopping in front of a painting of a bowl of fruit, he stepped forward and scratched at the apple on the drawing. A shifting noise emerged from behind the painting, and it swung open to reveal a smaller hallway.

“This way!” He charged forward, and Hermione quickened her pace to match his. She’d never been in the kitchens before, and although she’d see its location labeled both in Hogwarts A History and on the Mauraders Maps, she’d never known how to find it. She had no idea how Harry had stumbled onto the information. A parting gift from Fred and George perhaps? Or maybe it was tucked away in that odd new Potions textbook he’d been using. Regardless of his source, she followed her friend into the sprawling kitchens, stopping beside him as he pointed to a stainless steel table in front of them. On the table was a tray of pink frosted cupcakes with sprinkles.

“Alright so I will admit I did not bake these. I pulled a favor with Dobby. But they’re strawberry, your favorite!”

Hermione smiled and looked up at Harry, who’d somehow grown even taller over the summer.

“Harry! You shouldn’t have.”

“No, I definitely should have. You’re my best friend, Hermione. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t use my secret knowledge and propensity for rule breaking to get you cupcakes on your birthday?”

His words made a feeling of guilt settle around her shoulders and press down. She blinked back tears that suddenly were gathering in the corners of her eyes. Harry’s eyes widened in panic.

“Oh! Don’t cry! I thought this was a nice thing to do!”

“It is!” She jumped to console him, wiping at her eyes and swallowing back the lump that had formed in her throat.

“It’s very nice of you, Harry. You’re a good friend.”

“Not as good as you.”

His words felt like another kick to her already bruised heart.

Instead of responding, she stepped forward and plucked a cupcake off the tray.

“Cheers.”

Minutes later, after the students had eaten as many cupcakes as they could, they walked back to Gryffindor Tower under the invisibility cloak.

“We barely fit under this together anymore,” Hermione murmured to him despite the silencing charm she’d placed around them.

“I know! Looks like I’ll be doing my covert operations solo this year,” he lamented.

“Your what?”

Harry’s shoulders stiffened.

“I don’t know if we should get into this, we’ve been having such a good time.”

“Harry James Potter. Please tell me that you’re not doing what I think you’re doing.”

“I haven’t done anything—yet. But ‘Mione I know that Malfoy is up to something and I need to find out what it is.”

“Harry, you don’t have time for fruitless spying efforts! You’re quidditch captain, don’t you want to win the cup?”

“When have you ever cared about quidditch?”

“I don’t. But I know that you do! And we’re in NEWT classes and—“

“Classes and test scores don’t matter if there isn’t a wizarding world left to work in after we graduate. This is about war, Hermione! Fighting the good fight! I know you don’t know—“

“Don’t,” she seethed quietly. The two had silently entered the now empty Gryffindor Common Room, and she ripped the cloak off of them with a deathly glare.

“Don’t you dare say that I don’t know about war. I was right there at the Department of Mysteries, Harry, and I have a scar that covers my entire abdominal cavity to prove it.”

“Then why are you being so naive about this?” He argued back.

“He is clearly working as a death eater and—“

“Enough!” She snapped. “You’re right. We shouldn’t have gotten into this, because we both know damn well that I won’t blindly agree. I refuse to fault a boy for the sins of his father. Mind you, we have no proof that his father was even involved! But regardless, I’m done talking about this.”

The two friends stared at each other, neither sure what to say.

“Alright,” Harry broke at last. “I’m sorry. I know how you feel about this and I pushed you anyway. You always see the good in people, even if they don’t deserve it…Sometimes it just feels like the world is on my shoulders, you know? Cedric died, Tonks died, you almost died—“ his words choked in his throat but he pushed past. “And I just feel like it’s all my fault. I need to do all that I can to prevent more bad things from happening. Everyone says that I’m the chosen one but I don’t even bloody well know what that means or what to do!”

“Harry,” she spoke gently, her prior annoyance fading. “You’re doing the best that you can. Just focus on what you can control. Learn your spells, practice your defensive moves, and captain the quidditch team to victory or else Voldemort will seem like a small threat compared to the wrath of Ginny Weasley.”

Harry cracked a wan smile, running his fingers through his already messy hair.

“You’re right.”

“Always am,” she quipped. “Now come on,” she tilted her head in the direction of the table where they’d left their study materials. “Haunted or not, I’ll help you sort through the dates for the test tomorrow.”

He let out a resigned sigh, and then shuffled forward.

“Thanks ‘Mione, for everything. You’re one of the only people I know I can always trust.”

She simply nodded, her lies thudding painfully against her skull.

++++++

The weeks moved rapidly into their sixth year, and although many things were the same, Hermione couldn’t help but to recognize a few stark differences.

First, it was quiet. Maybe it was the lack of Fred and George’s antics, or the sorely not missed presence of Professor Umbridge, but  the halls of Hogwarts almost felt subdued. For the first time in several years, it was eerily calm, and she feared that it was a calm before the storm.

Beyond the lack of excitement, the other shift this school year was the sudden amount of attention that Hermione had been receiving, particularly from the opposite sex. The girl had never really found herself to be beautiful, she left that to girls like Fleur Delacour, but even she could not deny that she’d received more offers for dates in the past two months than she had all the other years combined. She hadn’t thought she’d changed that much over the summer. Her hair was slightly longer, and thanks to advice from Ginny was significantly less frizzy. She’d grown more into her curves, and after Madam Pomfrey had fixed her teeth the year before, she supposed she could pass as attractive. However, she decided, after great consideration, that the attention was probably a result of her lack of a public boyfriend, which Draco had grown to utterly despise.

“Another one?!” Draco growled, tossing his book bag onto the ground beside his chair in the alcove. He was eyeing the bouquet of flowers that was laying on the tabletop, Hermione had been handed it by a first year  on her way out of the Transfiguration classroom. The flowers, although beautiful, also contained a rather obnoxious note requesting her presence at Hogsmeade with Cormac Mclaggen. It had been the second time he’d asked this week.

“At least it’s just a note this time,” Hermione frowned. “I’ve been trying my best to hide from him, it’s much harder when I have to reject them in person.”

“Well I, for one, find this entire situation to be hilarious,” Theo chimed in from beside his grumpy friend. It was only the three of them at the table that evening, Ginny was at quidditch practice. The group determined that the library was only safe these days if Harry was on a broom, otherwise, his map was becoming more and more dangerous to revealing them.

“Granger, darling, you’re the most eligible bachelorette in the castle.”

“She’s not eligible!” Draco grumbled. “She is betrothed. She. Is. Mine.”

“Touchy touchy, Drake. She’s bloody gorgeous, smart, one third of the golden trio, and somehow still single. What do you expect a bloke to think? Of course they’re going to shoot their shot.”

“They best not be shooting anything of any kind even remotely near her.”

“Your jealousy, although a tad excessive, is endearing, but you see my point.”

Draco’s brow furrowed in frustration.

“I just want everyone to know!”

Hermione placed her hand on top of his. Immediately, he flipped his palm upwards and intertwined their fingers.

“Draco,” she murmured, “you know that no one else matters to me. Every other wizard in this castle could ask me to Hogsmeade, and it still wouldn’t change a single thing.”

“Well it probably would lead him to murder—“

“Not helpful, Theodore,” she responded with a feigned smile. He laughed and she turned her attention back to Draco.

“I love you.”

“And I love you,” he responded.

“I know,” she smiled, “is that not enough?”

“It is! It’s just—“ he huffed out a breath. “I’m a jealous man, Hermione. I don’t share well with others, and I especially don’t want to share you.”

“I don’t want you to share me either! I’ve been taking every back hallway to class imaginable, I eat breakfast thirty minutes before anyone else even wakes up, and I’ve considered using up my remaining disguising potion so that I can go to Hogsmeade in peace.”

“What it sounds like to me is that you could really benefit from borrowing the map of a certain scar faced friend of yours.”

“I—“ Hermione’s lit up with Theo’s suggestion.

“You’re entirely right, Theo. This is brilliant. If Harry gives me the map, I can hide from Mclaggen, and he won’t be able to see us! This is an entirely valid excuse for me to ask for it. He hates the attention maybe even more than I do. In fact,” she stood up suddenly, “I’m going to go ask for it right now!”

She placed a chaste kiss on Draco’s temple, grinned at Theo, and then scurried off.

By the time Hermione made it back up to Gryffindor Tower, the quidditch team was laying about on the chairs around the fire place, tired from the drills Harry had put them through. She spotted the familiar head of black hair almost immediately, seated beside Ron in the corner. She paused, for only a moment, before marching forward.

“Harry.”

His gaze snapped to her, blinking the exhaustion out of his eyes.

“Oh, hey ‘Mione.”

He glanced at Ron who remained stone faced and silent beside him.

“Can I speak with you alone for a moment?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Ron rose from his seat and grumbled something about going to play chess with Seamus, refusing to look at Hermione at all. She settled in to the now empty spot and then turned to her friend.

“I need to borrow the map,” she whispered. “Cormac Mclaggen won’t leave me alone and I can only turn down a date so many times. I need to avoid him. Please?”

Harry was silent for a moment, and then replied, “I’m sorry, but I don’t have the map.”

“You—what? You mean it’s upstairs or something?”

“Uh, no,” he scratched at the back of his head sheepishly, ruffling his already untidy hair. “I lost it in a bet…to Ginny.”

Hermione blinked once, twice, then broke out into a fit of laughter.

“What kind of bet?” She managed to utter between peals of laughter.

“A flying bet of course!” Ginny, who seemingly appeared out of nowhere, plopped down onto the cushion next to Hermione and smiled. “This blighter thought he could outfly me. Yeah right.”

“She’s bloody good,” he admitted. “I thought I’d have the advantage since I picked a seeker drill, but—“

“But I showed him that I can overcome any odds placed against me.” She winked.

“It’s okay, Harry, I’ll ease up next time and let you have a shot.”

“I can’t believe you wagered the map,” Hermione whispered. “Don’t you know that Ginny doesn’t lose?”

“I overestimated my abilities, okay? I see my mistake. Besides, she only gets it for three months.”

Ginny nodded in agreement.

“I told him he could have it back for the new year.”

Hermione shook her head at the pair.

“Well then, Gin, it looks like you’re the one who’s going to have to help me get out of dates with McLaggen.”

“McLaggen?” Her face darkened. “How about I just hex him into submission. No means no.”

“Whoa-oh-oh let’s keep our wands to ourselves please,” Harry chimed in.

“That’s rich coming from you,” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, well, as team captain I think it’s my duty to ensure our best chaser doesn’t end up in detention for any of the matches.”

“Best chaser? Try best player.”

He chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah, right. Well, I’m going to go find Ron and see if I can get in on that chess match they have going. I have to win at something tonight.”

When he was out of earshot, Hermione turned to Ginny.

“You’re brilliant.”

She beamed, tossing her glossy red hair behind her shoulders.

“I know.”

++++++++
Hermione hated losing. Whether it be wizards chess, test scores, or even muggle board games, it didn’t matter. If there was a competition, she was going to win, and that was what made her current situation all the more infuriating.

Since the beginning of the year, Harry had been using an old text book full of someone else’s notes. The identity of that person was still a mystery to her, as was their eclectic ways of brewing potions. No matter what Hermione did, how well she followed the instructions, Harry just kept beating her. He’d won a vial of Felix Felicis and won over Professor Slughorn’s admiration, and Hermione was at her wit’s end on what to do about it.

Today’s lesson was amortentia. She’d read about the potion before, of course, but she’d never seen it up close. The liquid she brewed was pearlescent, shimmering as it simmered over a low flame. Despite Harry’s secret weapon, she’d even managed to finish the potion before he had. In fact, the girl had worked so diligently over the flames that her hair grew to twice its regular size, and there were uncharacteristic splatters of ingredients on her robes. Her wand timer dinged, and her hand shot up in the air. Professor Slugworth waddled towards her.

“Oh! Beautiful work Miss Granger,” he spoke with a broad smile before turning his attention to the rest of the class.

“All students gather around here please!”

Classmates shuffled forward, crowding in around the cauldron.

“Now students, Miss Granger here has done a miraculous job of brewing up amortentia. Does anyone know what amortentia does?”

Again, Hermione’s hand raised.

“Amortentia is the strongest love potion in the world. It’s said that even one sip can cause uninhibited infatuation.”

“Yes, yes, excellent. But what is different about amortentia than other love potions?”

When Hermione faltered, another pale hand rose.

“Oh! Yes Mr. Malfoy?”

“Other love potions create the impersonation of love, whereas amortentia can only heighten what already exists.” Draco’s eyes flashed towards Hermione before quickly looking away. He finished his answer with a smirk.

“A user who drinks amortentia may fall into infatuation, but only with a person who they had feelings for, consciously or not. Other love potions can be used in deceit, but amortentia opens the mind and allows for a person to seek their perfect match. It’s why they also call it the true love serum.”

“Exactly! Now I will not be having my students take drinks from this potion, as there are careful instructions to administer amortentia. Doing so incorrectly can cause a witch or wizard to fall into a coma, and the treatment and recovery are rather unpleasant.” His eyes wandered around the room. “So no sneaky sips. Instead, we’ll focus on the milder use of this potion. Which is?”

“Smell,” Draco responded. “When a person smells amortentia, they will smell scents that align with their true love. It’s different for everyone.”

Slughorn clapped his hands together gleefully.

“Brilliant brilliant! Ten points to Gryffindor for top notch brewing and ten points to Slytherin for correct answers.”

Groans arose from students in both houses but the professor ignored them.

“Alright, well we’re going to give everyone a chance to step up here, but since it’s your potion, Miss Granger, we’ll have you begin. Get close and take a whiff!”

Hermione tilted forward and breathed in the vapor rising from her cauldron, the scent hit her nose immediately, familiar and comforting.

“Well? What do you smell!”

Hermione considered her options for half a second. She could lie. Say that she smelled books, or grass, or lemons, anything that would prevent the truth from being revealed. It’d be easy to lie. But in that millisecond of uncertainty, her eyes met Draco’s, grey to brown, dark to light. And she realized in a flash of clarity that she didn’t want to lie. She’d been forced to keep so much of her life, their life, a secret, but not this. The words flowed past her lips.

“Apples, Mahogany, and Spearmint.”

The corner of Draco’s mouth lifted in one of his infamous imperceptible smirks. She tried not to look at him, instead she glanced at Harry and Ron. The former had his head tilted in careful consideration, the latter had his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. Her attention turned to Theo next, his eyes glittered with mirth.

“Theodore,” she spoke out, “how about you give it a go?”

Since becoming charms partners, the school had grown more relaxed regarding Theo and Hermione’s tentative acquaintanceship. They mostly avoided speaking outside of class when they could, but the occasional comment in class wasn’t shocking to anyone.

“Ah, well, if you insist, Granger.”

The boy strode forward and took an exaggerated breath.

“Well?” She pushed.

“Broom polish, cinnamon, and roses.”

Hermione tried desperately to mask her amusement, but she couldn’t hold back the rise of her eyebrows. Luckily, Slughorn ushered another student in front of the cauldron, and no one noticed her reaction. She stepped back slightly, allowing the rest of her eager peers to form a line. Theo did the same.

“So,” she spoke lowly. “Broom polish and cinnamon, hm? Remind you of any fiery Gryffindors you know?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” She disregarded his casual deflection, her eyes still facing forward.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, and you’re just lucky that I’m nice enough to not push it.”

Theo moved to answer her, but stopped to watch Draco’s turn.

“Parchment, lilacs, honey.”

“Oh, how lovely!” Professor Slughorn told him.

“Lovely indeed,” Theo mocked into Hermione’s ear and she snickered. Unfortunately, her laugh did not go unnoticed by everyone.

Theo stood beside her silently as none other than Cormac Mclaggen approached. She’d done such a good job of avoiding him over the past few weeks that she’d almost been able to forget his existence. Almost.

“Hello, Granger.”

“Mclaggen,” she replied curtly.

“Interesting scents you got out of that potion,” he grinned at her haughtily. “Apples are my favorite food, you know.”

Hermione’s mouth opened in surprise, Theo choked out a laugh before she could speak. Cormac’s attention turned to him.

“You have something to say, Nott?”

Theo’s eyes flashed mischievously before answering.

“Apples are my favorite food too, Mclaggen. In fact—“ he slung an arm around the boy’s shoulders, steering him in the opposite direction of Hermione.

“Let’s find out all the other things we have in common!”

“But—“

“Is quidditch your favorite sport?”

“Well, yes, but—“

“Excellent! Mine too. Favorite team?”

“I—“

Hermione watched the two boys stride away from her, her nose twitching as she tried to reign in her laughter. Across the room, Draco eyed the pair with a knowing smirk. Hermione grinned and walked back to her work station where Harry and Ron stood.  When she arrived, the red head glanced up at her, blue eyes piercing.

“Did Nott just distract McLaggen for you?”

Hermione paused a moment, shocked that the boy had acknowledged her at all, and then nodded. He nodded once in return before concentrating on his potion, his expression unreadable.

“Maybe not all Slytherins are as bad as we make them out to be,” Harry joked weakly in an attempt to ease the tension between his friends.

“Maybe not.”

Hermione and Ron mumbled simultaneously, awkwardly, and the group fell back into silence.

Hope bloomed in her chest regardless.

Chapter 49

Ginny should’ve known it was a bad idea to study with Luna. Her friend had been coughing voraciously all week, and the redhead knew a cold when she saw one. But Luna was insistent, in that whimsical way of hers, that it was nothing more than an attack of gulping plimpies. She was perfectly fine, she’d said. For some godsforsaken reason, Ginny believed her. Big mistake. 

Now, not two days later, Ginny laid in bed in agony. Everything hurt. Her joints, her skin, even the sockets of her eyes. Her brain pounded against her skull in a relentless pattern, and she struggled to breathe through the congestion in her chest and sinuses. Gulping plimpies her ass.

What was worse than her crippling illness, was the fact that it was Saturday. Quidditch Saturday. At that very moment, Ginny was supposed to be hovering seventy feet in the air throwing a quaffle to Katie Bell to beat Hufflepuff. But no. Instead she was here, drowning in her own snot. 

Hermione had barely glimpsed at her this morning before telling her she needed to stay in bed. When Ginny had argued, Hermione called Harry to look at her from the bottom of the stairs. It only took one hoarse protest leaving her lips before Harry was also in agreement. Ginny was to stay back and rest. They needed her at full strength for the Slytherin match in two weeks, and beating the badgers was a walk in the park even without her. Ginny grumbled for a few minutes, but eventually conceded. She blamed her lack of argument on the fever that raged through her veins. Although she’d agreed to skip the game, she drew the line at going to Pomfrey’s office. The last thing she wanted was to be doted on by the stern matron. She’d survived many a cold in her lifetime, and all she needed was to sleep it off. Besides, at that point, she was unsure if she could make it down the tower steps and into the infirmary without passing out. 

Ginny’s eyes fluttered shut, as she continued to move in and out of a restless unconscious state. The fever chilled her, but she also knew she was too hot. She needed water, but her wand was too far away and she was shit at wandless magic. 

“Fucking fuck,” she groaned out to empty space. 

In the midst of her despair, she noticed the glow of the notebook on her bedside table. 

What’s the password to the Lion’s Den?

-Theo

Why?

Just answer the question, G. 

Augmenti Frageri 

A minute passed before Ginny heard a set of footsteps pounding up the stairs. She barely had time to lift her head when the door to her dorm room burst open and a boy wrapped in a green and silver scarf came barreling through. 

“Theo?” She coughed. “What in the world are you doing here?”

His brows knotted in concern as he stepped forwards, eyes quickly grazing over what she was sure was a horrendous appearance.

“You weren’t playing in the game. I was worried. Asked Hermione and she told me you were here. Merlin, Gin. You’re sick.” 

“With those kind of observation skills you should be an auror.”

Despite his concern, Theo’s lips tipped up into a smile. 

“You remember that, huh?”

She emitted a sound stuck somewhere between a cough and a laugh.

“How could I ever forget the snark that is Theo Nott?”

He moved closer and placed a gentle hand on her forehead, wincing at the heat that hit his palm.

“You’re burning up. You need fever reducer right now. Come on, I’m taking you to Pomfrey.” 

“No!” She wiggled away from his tender touch. 

“I swear she’s still mad at me about the puking incident last year and I don’t think I can take another berating. I’ll be fine right here!”

“Either you come willingly or I take you forcefully but I’m not taking no for an answer, Ginevra.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, Theodore!” She wished her voice came out firmer than it did, but the illness made it sound tired, just like the rest of her.

Theo let out an impatient sigh.

“Listen, the match is going to be over soon. Which means any time now students are going to be filling the castle, and your roommates will be coming back. We need to move quickly so that I can help you…please,” his brown eyes softened. 

“Let me help you.”

Ginny’s resolve weakened with the care in his tone. 

“Okay.”

She sat up, blinking away the dizzy stars that clouded her vision. Theo must have sensed her lack of coordination, as he leapt forward and wrapped a steady arm around her shoulders. Slowly, together, they walked down the stairs and out of the Griffindor common room. They barely took notice of the fat lady’s commentary about a snake in the lion’s den as they passed. 

Luckily, they saw very few students on their trek across the castle. Those who did see them didn’t take much notice of the odd pairing, too buzzed on the adrenaline of a quidditch game. 

Pomfrey took one look at the ashen faced girl entering her infirmary before she shooed Theo away from her side, casted a featherlight charm, and swept Ginny into the nearest bed. 

“Oh my dear girl,” she tutted, fussing about the cabinets. 

“You’re my fifteenth case with these symptoms this week. Something is going around.”

“Gulping plimpies?” Ginny moaned, and the mediwitch’s gaze shifted to amusement.

“Ah, hanging around Lovegood have you? I just discharged her this morning.”

“Figures,” Ginny sighed, burying herself deeper into the thin infirmary sheets. She was becoming delirious, her fever hitting a point that vacillated her between lucid and dreaming.

“Theo,” she slurred. “Come here.”

He stepped closer, and through her teary stare she could barely make out his familiar dimpled smile. 

“Yes, Ginny?”

“Will you stay with me?”

She shouldn’t have asked. In any other circumstance, when she had complete control of her facilities, she wouldn’t have. Her health was not his responsibility. Hell, she was not his responsibility. But the way his eyes shined with her simple request made her heart stutter in her chest.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere.”

He summoned a chair closer to her bedside, watching closely as Madam Pomfrey administered small vials of potions down Ginny’s throat. She sputtered at the foul tasting liquids, but with Theo’s gentle urging, swallowed them down. 

The effects were immediate, and she blinked at the sleepiness forcing its way into her mind. 

“Go to sleep, G, you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

“Don’t leave.”

“I already told you I’m not leaving.” He almost sounded offended. And as her breathing started to slow and regulate, she could’ve sworn she heard him speak again.

“I could never leave you, even if I tried.”

But she couldn’t have heard that. Not really. She knew better than to believe the wishes in her dreams. 

+++++++++

Ginny woke to the sounds of whispers. She didn’t open her eyes. Instead, she focused on the feeling of a larger hand wrapped around her own. Another thumb absentmindedly rubbing hers in a soothing circular pattern. It felt nice. 

“How’s she doing?” 

Ginny recognized the voice to be Draco’s. She wondered what time it was, what he was doing in the infirmary. 

“Better, I think,” Theo replied. “She slept through the night, and her cough finally stopped.”

“Mate, have you left this room? Eaten something? Slept?” 

“No. I can do that later.”

Ginny swallowed down the outburst that wanted to leave her tongue. What the hell did he think he was doing sitting at her bedside? 

“Theo, she has a cold, she’s not dying.”

“Don’t, Drake.” 

The low grumble in his tone made the breath catch on her throat. She tried to resume regular breathing as to not alert them of her conscious state. She did feel surprisingly better. Her congestion was nearly gone, and the fever that had plagued her had completely subsided. Pomfrey did know what she was doing after all. 

“Fine,” Draco sounded amused. 

“All I’m saying is that you seem to care an awful lot about your friend who is experiencing a minor illness.”

“What of it?” Theo argued back.

“We’re…friends. It’s what friends do.”

Friends.

The word rattled around Ginny’s ribcage.

Of course they were friends, best friends. She couldn’t expect anything more of him than that. If anything, she should be grateful. He went out of his way to care for her, time and time again, and if friendship was all she ever got from him, it was more than enough. She squashed the disappointment down deep into the pit of her stomach. It was her own fault for getting her hopes up. He didn’t like her, not like that anyway. She knew better, she knew better, she knew better. So why did it still hurt? 

In her lamenting she hadn’t noticed that she squeezed his hand. 

“G?”

Drat. Busted. 

Ginny let out a wide yawn and opened her eyes.

“Theo? Draco?”

“Gin, glad to see you’re alive,” Draco drawled. “Theo here seems to think that your cold was the equivalent of an incurable disease.” 

“Piss off Draco,” Theo muttered. Draco’s ever present smirk only widened. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m going to kick your arses in quidditch at the next match.” 

The concern melted off of Theo’s face, replaced with a smile.

“There’s that sass we know and love.”

Draco made a choked noise, and Theo hit him rather forcefully on the back. 

“Theo!” Ginny called out, alarmed.

“Sorry, sorry, just thought maybe Draco had something caught in his throat?”

“Yes, exactly that,” Draco managed through a rough chuckle. “Now that Ginny is awake and clearly fine, can I convince you to come with me? The other Slytherins are starting to ask where you’ve gone and I can’t lie forever. You’ve missed three meals now, and we have practice in an hour.”

“Can’t lie forever? Interesting statement to make considering your current life circumstances,” Theo said drily. 

“Theodore Nott have you been sitting here watching me sleep this whole time!?” Ginny screeched to emphasize the effect. It worked, and he flinched at her raised voice. 

“I told you I wasn’t leaving, and I didn’t. Simple as that.” 

“You need to eat! You need to leave! I am fine, healthy as a hippogriff. Now go!” She lifted her hands at him in a shooing motion. He laughed. 

“Yes, alright, fine, it seems you’re as annoyed with me as usual, so you must be feeling better.” He stood and brushed nonexistent dust from his robes. 

“I already talked with Pomfrey and you’re not to leave until she administers your next round of potions. I’ll have Granger come up here and keep you company.”

“Hm bossing others around too? I thought that was something you saved especially for me,” Ginny raised a brow when he laughed again. 

“I’ll do what I must to keep your stubborn arse in bed.” 

Draco shook his head, moving towards the door.

“Feel better Gin. Let’s go Theo.” 

Theo turned to leave, but hesitated. Then, he spun back to face Ginny, took three bold steps forward, and placed a kiss on her forehead. 

“Stay here. Seriously. I’ll check on you later” 

He murmured into her skin. Ginny was frozen, and for once in her life, rendered absolutely mute, so she simply nodded. Because in that simple press of his lips, Ginny’s last heartstring snapped, and the truth came crashing down. She was in love with him. She knew it as well as she knew anything. She loved him, but she couldn’t, not in the way that she wanted to. She’d heard him as clear as day only minutes before. They were friends, and that’s all they would be. She lifted her mouth into a smirk to disguise the sob that was rapidly rising in her throat. 

“See you later Theo.”

And the second they were out of earshot, she burst into tears. 

Chapter 50

Ginny was immersed in an unshakeable feeling of restlessness in the days and weeks after her infirmary stay. She didn’t want to let things affect her like this, she just found that she couldn’t help it. Every time she was around Theo, the truth lodged itself in her throat and begged to be set free. Absolutely not. So instead, she sat beside him at the study table, rolled her eyes at his secret winks on moving staircases, and died a little bit inside every time she chose to remain silent.

She didn’t know how long she could do this. As the days crept closer to winter, her walls of composure stretched dangerously thin. Something needed to be done, she needed an out.

Her idea came to her in a stroke of genius one night on the quidditch pitch. It was the end of practice, and the team was shuffling off their brooms and into the locker room. They’d barely squeaked a win against Slytherin the week before, and they were working themselves to the bone to prepare for Ravenclaw. Harry and Ron ambled in front of her.

“Chess rematch tonight?”

“Can’t. Sorry Ron.”

“Can’t? What are you doing?”

“I have to study.”

“Study for what? Finals aren’t for another month.”

“Uhh my Care of Magical Creatures exam. They’re having it early so that Professor Grubbly Plank is available to help count the unicorns in the forest during finals week. They're most active during crescent moons.”

“Oh,” Ron nodded, “makes sense. Who are you studying with?”

“There’s a study group in the library, mostly Hufflepuff and Ravenclaws.”

“Okay, well have fun being a swot.”

Ron shoved at his shoulder and headed towards the showers. Ginny watched Harry let out a relieved sigh, and in that sigh she found her answer. Harry wasn’t going to the library. She knew that there wasn’t a Care of Magical Creatures exam, because Neville had already expressed his relief to her that it had been canceled that morning over breakfast. Moreover, the study group facade he concocted didn’t exist. Ravenclaws actively volunteering to tutor other houses? As if. Wherever he was going and whoever he was seeing, he didn’t want anyone to know about.

Ginny waited to compile evidence before putting her plan to action. She was thorough by nature, and had to ensure that whatever Harry was hiding wasn’t a one off thing. She watched over the next few days, tracked the white lies that piled up around him, and developed a plan. She needed a way to avoid seeing Theo, to wish away the feelings that she had no right to have, and in turn Harry needed a better cover. He was a terrible liar, after all, and it was only a matter of time before Hermione or even Ron figured him out. She could offer him something that would benefit the both of them. So finally, one night, she made her move.

“And where have you been?” Ginny’s voice rang out in the empty common room. She was perched on one of the chairs beside the fireplace, waiting for him. It was late, and there were classes the next morning. The rest of the house had gone to bed ages ago, but not him.

“Merlin, Ginny, what are you still doing up?” Wide green eyes stared out at her from beneath a fringe of black hair. He’d been in the process of removing his cloak when she spoke up, and his bottom half was still invisible.

“I could ask you the same thing, Harry.” She ignored his deflection tactic, “now answer the question.”

“I was at Hagrid’s Hut.”

“Liar.”

Harry blew a puff of air out of his lips to move the hair off his forehead. “What do you mean?”

“Anyone who leaves Hagrid’s hut smells like woodsmoke and is covered in Fang drool. You have neither.”

He blinked at her a few times and then tried again.

“Alright, you caught me, I was sneaking into the kitchens.”

Ginny exaggerated a yawn. “No, you weren’t, and we could go through the conversation of how I know that as well, but for brevity’s sake how about you just tell me the truth already.”

Harry was quiet for a moment and then said, “I was out with someone.”

At last, Ginny smiled.

“There it is.”

“What, not going to ask who it is?”

The redhead’s face grew solemn before saying quietly.

“Did you forget who has the map?”

His gulp was visible to her from across the room, but she remained silent and waited.

“I can explain—“

“Harry,” she cut him off. “You don’t have to explain anything, especially to me. You were my first and only crush. I loved you, for years, and you really think I wasn’t observant enough to figure it out? Map or no map.”

His sudden intake of breath allowed her the opportunity to continue.

“It’s okay, I won’t tell anyone, you don’t have to worry about that.”

“Ginny—“

“I’m not finished.” She waited until he closed his gaping mouth.

“For what it’s worth, Harry, I think it’s great. You deserve to be happy. And I’m sorry, if you think that you have no one to tell but, just, I want you to know that no one will look at you any differently, okay? Not Sirius, not my family, not Hermione, no one. We all love you, that will never change.”

He nodded but didn’t respond.

“So anyhow, I actually didn’t wait up to accost you. I have a proposition for you instead.”

“Oh no, a Ginny Weasley ultimatum?” It was the gentle teasing in Harry’s tone that cracked Ginny’s cool facade. She grinned at him.

“It seems my reputation precedes me.”

He shook his head at her in exasperation, but his face shifted into a more serious expression before he spoke again.

“Ginny, I want you to know, that if things were different, I’d be lucky that you felt that way about me. I wouldn’t deserve you.”

“Well that’s good to hear, Potter,” she said with a nervous laugh, “because here’s what I think we should do.”

Harry remained silent throughout her proposal and then for several minutes afterward. She was beginning to think that he wasn’t interested, when he finally spoke.

“I see how this benefits me, Gin. What I’m struggling to figure out is why you’d want to do this.”

“Maybe I feel compelled to help you out of the goodness of my own heart?”

Harry let out a low chuckle and shook his head.

“Are you going to tell me the truth or not?”

Ginny hesitated, settling instead on a half truth.

“There is someone that I want to be with, but the feelings aren’t reciprocated. I don’t want to make them uncomfortable, so I think that doing this will make it seem like I’m perfectly content with the way things are.”

Harry tilted his head in consideration.

“Is it Neville? Because if it is, I’d reckon the only reason he hasn’t reciprocated is because he has no idea.”

She tried but failed to hold back a snort.

“Although I love the bloke, and he is growing to be rather fit, no, it’s not Neville.”

“Ah, so it must be someone that is friends with one of your other brothers. Lee Jordan perhaps?”

“Do you agree to this or not?” Ginny shut down his further questioning with a placid smile. He laughed.

“Alright fine have your secrets. Yes, let’s do this.”

++++

Draco wasn’t the type to care much about rumors. He had plenty of first hand experience to showcase how they were nearly never true, yet he couldn’t help but lean his ear closer to Pansy yammering to Daphne and Astoria a few seats away.

“Potter and the Weasley girl. Can you believe it?”

“But I wanted to date Potter,” Astoria pouted.

“Ew, Tori, he’s not even Sacred 28,” her older sister, Daphne reminded her, and Astoria made a face.

“Like I care about that. He’s fit, rich, and the chosen one.”

“Well it doesn’t really matter anyway,” Pansy said smugly, “because it seems he’s got a thing for redheads.”

“How do you know they’re dating?” Astoria pressed.

“Because he was all over her last night in the hall after their quidditch practice. Everyone saw it.”

Draco, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, glanced to his left where Theo sat. Although he said nothing, he was sure that his friend was also hearing the conversation.

“Do you, uh, want to talk about it?” Draco murmured to him. Theo stared at him blankly.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he replied evenly. “Now if you’ll excuse me, there’s a book I need to check out at the library.”

Theo rose stiffly, and exited the Great Hall without so much as glancing at the Gryffindor table. Draco heaved a sigh, and flicked his gaze to the lions. Hermione’s amber eyes met his across the room, and they echoed back the concern he was sure glimmered in his own. She angled her head towards the pair in question. Ginny had her body leaned against Potter, whispering something in his ear that made him laugh. A few spots away, Ron Weasley held his fork dangerously tight, as if murder by dining utensil was a viable option.

Draco reached for his wand, intending to speak with Hermione, but she beat him to it.

“I know you have questions, but I’m as out of the loop as you are.” Her whisper caressed his ear.

“This came out of no where, and I can’t even get Ginny alone to talk to her about it. I guess I know now why she’s been avoiding me.”

The boy nodded slightly, his brain whirring. Ginny could evade Hermione, but she was going to have a much harder time ignoring a Slytherin.

+++

Theo was pouting. His mouth had been perpetually turned down at the corners for weeks, and so had his attitude.

He avoided common areas—the Great Hall, the library, the quidditch pitch. Basically, he’d do anything to avoid seeing his favorite redhead leaned up against the inky black locks of a boy he’d quickly grown to despise. Sure, they’d been calling him the chosen one for years, but it’d never mattered to Theo until this moment. It hadn’t mattered until he was Ginny’s chosen one, and now, he hated him for it.

He hated a lot of things as of late. Envy was an ugly emotion and he wore it like the best of them. He embraced the envy fully, seated stiffly in his seat in the Charms classroom. Flitwick droned on about the extensive uses of incendiary charms, and Theo dreamt of using one to light Potter’s hair on fire.

“Stop that.”

Hermione’s whispers pulled him from his thoughts.

“Stop what?”

“Imagining Harry aflame.”

“You told me you weren’t a legilimens.”

“I’m not. I’m your friend, and that murderous glaze in your eye is entirely too predictable.”

He didn’t respond, opting instead to nudge her with his shoulder. The pair garnered far less attention as a charms pair these days, and the gesture went unnoticed by the class. Well, everyone excluding Draco, probably, but he wasn’t afraid of his mate’s jealous tendencies. In fact, poking the dragon was downright fun. He would admit, however, that in his most recent state of melancholy even jibing Draco had lost its luster.

Flitwick clapped twice, signaling the class to begin practicing spellwork. Hermione turned to Theo.

“Right, well this one is rather complicated. Would you like to manage the incantation or the wrist movements?”

“What are we doing, exactly?”

His partner blinked at him.

“Theo, did you not listen to anything he just said?”

“Afraid not.”

Her face scrunched in concern.

“It’s unlike you to be distracted like this…are you okay?”

“I am perfectly fine, thanks.”

“Theo…”

“Don’t, Granger.”

She flinched back and he hefted a sigh, forcing a slightly softer tone with his next words.

“Let’s just focus on charms, alright?”

She nodded tersely before flitting her gaze down towards their shared textbook. Theo had to admit, she did a fair job of pretending everything was fine for the remaining class period. He was nearly lulled into a false sense of security by the time she tried to bring it up again.

“It’s okay for it to bother you, you know.”

Her nose was still turned down into her notebook as she continued speaking quietly.

“When Draco went to the Yule Ball with Parkinson it felt like someone was stabbing a knife into my heart. I know that it’s no where near the same situation but…I guess I just want you to know that I’m here for you. And if you want to keep acting like an utter prat I’ll accept it…but it’s not doing anyone any good.”

She snapped her book shut and glanced over at him at last.

“And for the record, you never told her how you felt. What was she supposed to do?”

“I…”

Hermione stood up and left the class with the rest of the Gryffindors before he was able to finish his thought. It didn’t matter, he didn’t really have an answer anyway.

++++

Ginny’s plan was turning out to be more difficult than she’d expected. She’d been so busy pretending to be in love with Harry the past few weeks that her school work was beginning to fall behind. Not to mention, girls that had never paid her any mind before were suddenly hurling jealous insults like it was a game. Romilda Vane, for example, was about one rude comment away from a hex to the arse. The worst part, however difficult it was to admit, was that she missed her friends. She hadn’t spent a second of time in the alcove since the plan unfolded. Theo wouldn’t even look at her, and although that had been what she thought she wanted, it hurt to the point of physical pain. On the outside, she allowed her relationship with the chosen one to appear like perfection, but internally she was exhausted. How the Malfoy’s were able to keep up such an intricate facade for so many years was beyond her.

It was Saturday, and Ginny was experiencing a small bit of peace. Harry was off doing Merlin knows what, and Ginny was covering for him, which meant she couldn’t be seen by the rest of the school. That particular day she chose to hide out in the divination tower, she didn’t figure anyone would find her there.

“I thought you didn’t put much faith in predicting the future, Ginny.”

Her eyes shot forward to meet dark grey, as a head of platinum blonde emerged from the entrance hole in the floor.

“What are you doing here, Draco?”

“Oh me? I’m looking for a witch who seems to want to be anywhere that her friends aren’t.”

Ginny held back a flinch.

“It’s not like that.”

“Oh really? It’s not?” He continued on smoothly. “Because Hermione is beyond confused why you’re ignoring her, and Theo? Don’t even get me started on him.”

“I’m not ignoring any of you,” she argued, “I’ve just been so busy with Harry.”

Draco smirked at her.

“Busy with Harry my ass. You can fool everyone else, Gin, but you can’t fool me.”

The rest of her defense died on her tongue, and her shoulders slumped down.

“What do you know?”

He walked forward and sat down, his lean fingers idly toying with the beaded pillow beside him.

“I don’t know much. What I do know, however, is that you haven’t been interested in Potter for years. I also know that despite the intricacies of your lie, you are alone in this tower when you told Hermione that you were spending the day with Golden Boy. I’m no auror, but the facts do seem to present a different story than the one that you’re telling.”

The pair stared at each other for a moment, neither speaking.

“You’re right,” Ginny conceded, “but I can’t tell you anything else. It’s not just my secret to tell.”

“Well, well, well, Saint Potter has more depth to him than I thought.”

“Please, Draco, don’t tell Hermione and Theo,” she begged. “I swear it has nothing to do with the war or your secrets. This is just a lie of convenience, a favor between two friends. I just—“

“I won’t tell them.”

“Wait, really? No argument from you?”

Draco’s features softened.

“I know what it’s like to keep secrets, Ginny. You’ve already done so much for me, our friends, my family, who would I be if I denied you one simple request? Besides, when Theo finds out you’re in love with him, it’d probably be best coming from you.”

Ginny choked on the air in her lungs.

“I’m not—“

Draco’s look gave her pause yet again. She released a sigh.

“I can’t tell him, I never can. It’s easier this way.”

“Easier for who, exactly? It doesn’t seem to be all that easy on you, and it certainly hasn’t been on him.”

Ginny didn’t answer his question. Instead, she leaned forward a bit, resting her chin on her knees before responding.

“I don’t know how you put up with this. All the lying, the games, it feels like it’s going to rip me apart.”

He breathed out and then said quietly.

“It’s a lot easier when you have others to share the burden. And don’t you think we’ve all spent enough time feeling alone?”

The next night, Ginny returned to the alcove, clutching her book bag so tightly one would think that it was trying to run away. She didn’t know why she felt this way, almost as nervous as she’d been that first day over a year ago. She didn’t want to come off like a timid hufflepuff however, so she willed a falsely confident look onto her face. Hermione’s returning smile was bright enough to scare off a dementor, and although Draco could mask his emotions, the girl still saw the relief simmering beneath his mercury gaze. The reaction of the two didn’t matter to Ginny, though, not nearly as much as the dark haired boy who sat beside them. Theo. The name swam lazily around her now muddled brain. He eyed her warily as she approached, and opted to remain silent throughout the greetings. Her heart sunk with each passing minute that he chose to ignore her. Was she too late to fix what had been broken?

“As I was saying before you arrived, Gin,” Draco drawled to the group, “Hermione still has a few extra doses of disguising potion from fourth year, and they’re set to go bad soon. We were thinking of having a run at Hogsmeade during one of the upcoming trips, all four of us.”

The Slytherin turned to Theo, his expressions neutral. “What do you have to say about it, mate?”

“I just remembered, I have to go ask Slughorn a question about the potions assignment.”

Theo lifted off from the table, his items levitating neatly into his book bag. Wandless magic? Really? Even when he was mad he was distractingly attractive. His long strides took him out of the alcove in a flash and Ginny attempted not to gaze after him. Hermione tried to hide her crestfallen expression when she looked back, but the redhead saw it nonetheless.

“He’ll come around,” Hermione offered weakly. Ginny, her now heart in her stomach, turned to Draco. The boy met her stare, and said in a low voice.

“Theo thinks that everyone he cares about will leave him. When you stopped showing up, well, it was like a self fulfilling prophecy.” He ran a hand through his hair but didn’t break their gaze.

“He defaults to being alone.”

Ginny nodded, her jaw set in determination.

“Then I’ll just have to show him that he’s not.”

++++

Avoiding Ginny Weasley was becoming a nearly impossible task. Wherever Theo went, it seemed Ginny was already there. The library? She was at the next table. The quidditch pitch? Already out practicing. The Great Hall? Her eyes were always on him.

Despite their public settings, it seemed Ginny had a knack for being only seconds or meters away. It was infuriating. How was he supposed to ignore her when she was bloody everywhere? He complained this fact to Draco in their dorm room one night.

“I just don’t get it, mate. First she couldn’t be bothered to show up at all, and now I can’t go anywhere without seeing her. It’s codswallop.”

Theo flopped down onto his bed with a humph.

“You’d think she was a fucking seer.”

“Let me get this straight,” Draco smirked at his friend. “You’re upset because Ginny…exists? That’s a bit unfair, the castle is only so big.”

Theo tossed the nearest pillow towards Draco’s head. The haphazard attempt fell several feet short, making Draco’s smirk only grow wider.

“No you blighter. I’m upset because she’s doing it on purpose.”

“So what if she is?”

Theo cocked a brow in his friend’s direction.

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean, is have you ever considered the fact that Ginny is trying to be near you on purpose in case an opportunity arises?That she wants to talk to you but you’re too headstrong to accept it?”

“Maybe I don’t want to talk to her.” Theo tried to sound gruff but Draco merely rolled his eyes.

“Yes, you do.”

When Theo didn’t answer him he continued.

“You’re punishing her. And don’t even try to deny it, because you are. You’re jealous and upset and you have every right to feel that way, but you’re taking it out on her and she doesn’t even know why.”

“You sound like Granger,” Theo mumbled.

“Yes, well we share similar opinions on the situation. That’s the kind of information we find out when we speak to one another. What a mind blowing concept.”

Theo wanted to wipe that smug grin right off of his brother’s face, but his ire was a fruitless effort. He knew damn well that the angrier he got the funnier Draco would find it. He would’ve done the same if roles were reversed. Perhaps this was some sort of punishment for all the years of pestering, Salazar help him.

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine. You’re right. I’m making her pay for her actions without ever discussing it with her.”

“And?” Draco prompted him further. “What do you intend to do to rectify the situation?”

“I’ll stop leaving the room when she enters it?”

Brown eyes met a unsatisfied grey gaze.

“Okay!” Theo threw up his hands in defeat. “I’ll go even bigger! I’ll claim her friendship publicly, I’ll hug her after a quidditch match, I’ll wear a fucking I love Ginevra button for a week! Is that you want me to say? Would that make you happy?”

Draco settled himself onto his bed, leaning back onto the headboard before peering at his friend, a calm look on his face despite the sarcastic ramblings that flowed out of the frustrated boy next to him.

“I’ve been happy this whole time, Theo. The real question is, are you?”

Theo’s mouth opened and shut several times before the honest and defeated answer weakly passed his lips.

“No.”

“Exactly. Only you know how to fix this. Do it.”

Draco promptly turned over on his own bed. Theo waited for him to speak again, but he didn’t. Theo waved his wand, plunging the room into darkness. His thoughts swirled around him. Fix this. He could fix their friendship, he would fix their friendship. But what would the cost be to his own heart?

++++

Theodore Nott was a bloody coward, of that Ginny was sure. She’d given him every opportunity to speak to her, and instead he’d spent the last two weeks running away with his tail between his legs. She didn’t know what more she could do aside from shoving him in a broom closet and demanding him to unleash that snarky rhetoric she missed so much. Regardless of his desire to shake her, Ginny wasn’t going anywhere. So, she kept at it. Determined and fierce as a lion.

After another week or so, she finally saw the cracks appear in his armor. His eyes began to stay trained on her when she’d enter a room, he even went so far as to nod at her when passing one another on the quidditch pitch. She was hopeful that with a bit more time, he’d speak to her once again. What she truly wanted was her best friend back, but beggars can’t be choosers.

By the time the Saturday Hogsmeade trip arrived, Ginny decided she wasn’t attending. She told the other Gryffindors that her and Harry had a date planned, but really, she spent her day holed up in the library trying to catch up on her OWL work. With Snape as the new Defense Against the Darks Arts Professor, she had to put in extra effort to keep up. The man never played favorites, friends of godsons included. The Gryffindor was scribbling notes on sirens when she heard footsteps approaching her. Figuring it was a lost first year, she didn’t look up. She hadn’t bothered putting up the Notice Me Not Charms that the friends typically used to secure the area. The person came closer, and then dropped a neatly wrapped package onto the page of her opened book. Upon closer inspection, Ginny found that it was a pumpkin pastie, still warm under a stasis charm.

“You weren’t at Hogsmeade.”

The familiar voice made the hair on the back of her neck prickle. She looked up, still unwilling to believe who was speaking to her.

“Uh, yeah, I had to catch up on schoolwork.”

A dark brown eyebrow arched up at her.

“How studious and very unlike you, Ginevra.”

She barely registered the laugh that escaped her lips.

“Yes, well, maybe I’m turning over a new leaf,” she offered. “It only makes sense for Hermione’s swottiness to have rubbed off on me eventually.”

Theo sat down in the chair beside her and began unpacking his supplies. Ginny’s heart rate sped up. Was he staying?

“So, why aren’t you in Hogsmeade?” She inquired in the most casual tone she could muster.

“By the looks of this pumpkin pastie, it appears you were already there.”

“I was,” he agreed. “But Draco was sneaking away to meet Hermione at the Shrieking Shack, Blaise was no where to be seen, and I didn’t really fancy a day spent with Crabbe and Goyle.” He made a face and Ginny snorted before he continued.

“I went to Hogs Head, thought I would grab a pint, but it felt…lonelier than I wanted it to be.”

Theo paused to look at the red head, unspoken emotion wavering in his eyes.

“I figured if I was going to get a drink, it shouldn’t be alone.”

He reached into his bag and pulled out two bottles of butter beer, still dripping with condensation. He popped the top off of one and offered it to the girl. Ginny gawked at his actions, only for a moment before accepting the drink.

“Cheers,” he murmured, before pressing his own bottle to his lips. Ginny watched the muscles contract in his throat as he swallowed and her stomach clenched. Theo, who must have noticed her staring, tilted his head at her.

“Are you quite alright?”

“Food and drink isn’t allowed in the library.” Was all she was able to mumble in response. Theo froze, and then his face broke into a wide smile. That smile made Ginny lose the ability to breathe.

“Taken a sudden interest in following the rules, Ginevra?” He said with a laugh.

“You are full of all sorts of surprises today.”

“I could say the same to you,” she muttered and he grinned again.

The pair sat in silence for a moment.

“I’m sorry.”

The apology burst from her lips and she winced. The grin faded from Theo’s face, only slightly, before he said carefully.

“And what is it exactly that you’re sorry for?”

Excellent question, Theo. What was it she was sorry for? She knew what she wanted to say, that she was sorry for resorting to finding a fake boyfriend instead of addressing the tension between the two of them, but she wasn’t about to admit it. Instead, she chose the simplest answer she could summon.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t been someone you can count on.”

Theo mulled over her response and then said simply,

“Apology accepted.”

Ginny nodded at him, lifting the bottle of butter beer to her lips. The pair didn’t speak again for a while, but Theo broke the silence.

“I’m sorry, too.”

“For?”

“Punishing you for your own happiness. If anyone deserves to be happy, G, it’s you.”

Ginny swallowed down her response and flashed a small smile instead. She wouldn’t let him know that what really made her happy was him.

+++

Odd.

It was the only word Hermione had that could sum up Ginny’s behavior over the past several weeks. She couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, but something about her demeanor was just…off.

For starters, it was Ginny’s laugh. It seemed forced, sometimes painfully so, like she was demanding her body to react in the way that she should, even if she didn’t want to. Her laugh sounded especially off when she was around Harry, which was even stranger considering how often the two of them were together these days. On top of that, Ginny was fidgety. Her body was in a constant state of movement. Tapping feet, twitching fingers, even someone as obtuse as Ron could’ve figured out something was bothering her. The biggest problem, though, was that Ginny refused to talk about it.

Hermione tried, Godric did she try, but Ginny’s lips were sealed. So, Hermione did what any nosey friend would do under said circumstances, she jumped to conclusions.

“She’s mad at me, I just know it,” Hermione huffed to Draco. The pair was seated next to one another on a couch in the room of requirement, textbooks laid out in front of them.

“Why do you think she’s mad at you?”

“I don’t know! But that has to be it. Why else is she being so bloody weird and not talking to me. And why didn’t she tell me about Harry?! I am an excellent listener.”

Draco snorted, causing Hermione’s head to whip towards him in alarm.

“What! I am!”

“What you are, love, is a fixer. You don’t like to see your friends suffer, so you find ways to make it better.”

Hermione tilted her head.

“Yes, and?”

“And maybe Ginny doesn’t want you to fix whatever it is that’s happening. Maybe she wants to handle it alone.”

“Well, that’s preposterous. I’m her best friend!”

“Her best friend who has a tiny bit of a savior complex—"

“I do not! That’s Harry!”

“And who, pray tell, saves Potter time and time again when he manages to bugger it all up?”

Draco met her following silence with a smile.

“Don’t worry, I love you just the way you are. Savior complexes and all.”

“Draco,” she whined, flopping her head down into his lap. “I just want to know what’s going on.”

He absentmindedly ran his fingers through her hair.

“She’ll tell you when she’s ready.”

Hermione sat up suddenly, her head whipping towards her boyfriend.

“You know.”

Draco blinked at her innocently.

“Know what?”

“You know.”

She scrambled forward, leaning her face towards his menacingly.

“Tell me.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, love.”

“Oh please. You can lie to a lot of people Draco Lucius Malfoy, but I am not one of them. Tell me!”

He ducked forward, placing a chaste kiss on the tip of her nose.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Yes, you can! I am your girlfriend, your betrothed, your soulmate. Surely that counts for something!”

“It counts for everything,” he agreed easily, “everything except for this.”

“Draco,” she groaned, falling backwards. “It’s not fair for you to know! I’m her best friend!”

“And I’m an excellent secret keeper.”

He smiled down at her despite the glare that was aimed directly towards him.

“Fine. Have your bloody secrets. I’ll figure it out my self! Brightest witch of the age, you know.”

“Right you are,” he nodded, still grinning.

“While you work on that, I received word from my father.”

Hermione’s eyes widened.

“What did he say?”

“He said that the…Dark Lord,” Draco winced, “is growing impatient. At first, he was fine with the plan to wait until the end of the year, but now he’s wanting it done sooner. My father pushed back, stating that it would arouse too much suspicion to allow it to occur this quickly. With so many of the other death eaters still in Azkaban, they don’t have enough soldiers to fight the battle that the insurrection would cause.”

“And did he agree with your father’s argument?”

Draco’s lips turned downward.

“Not exactly.”

“…What do you mean?”

“The Dark Lord understood his reasoning. He agreed that an outright murder would create chaos, and until they retrieve the remaining death eaters from Azkaban it’s too risky. However, someone else in the ranks suggested that if the mission was to be conducted covertly, maybe even labeled as an accident, then it would be more successful.”

The blood drained from Hermione’s face.

“And he agreed?”

She watched him swallow before he responded.

“Yes. He decided my father was stalling for selfish reasons, incorrectly assuming that he wanted the glory of Dumbledore’s death to be attributed to him outright. Instead, he’s allowed another death eater the opportunity. They have until spring, and if their secret attempts fail, then my father will resume the task.”

“And who’s the other death eater?”

Draco’s shoulders fell.

“I don’t know. Father was forced into an unbreakable vow, he cannot speak the name. Even knowing as much as we do nearly risked his life.”

Hermione gulped down the panic rising in her throat.

“Do we need to tell Dumbledore?”

“No, Uncle Severus has already alerted him to the news. Apparently, he didn’t seem very concerned, which is somehow unsurprising to hear.”

“So what do we need to do?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

Draco nodded firmly.

“Father assured me that at this time there is not much that can be done. He urged us to pay close attention to those around us and to stay safe, but we are not to act on anything until he gives us word to do so.”

“And your task?…” Hermione trailed off nervously.

“My task falls mute if this other soldier completes the mission. We’re on a cease order. When I return to the manor for Christmas we’ll decide if anything else needs to be done.”

The pressure in Hermione’s chest eased just a bit.

“So we get to just be students? Not pawns in a war we didn’t start?”

Draco smiled, but it was weary around the edges.

“Yes, love. We get to be ourselves for a little longer.”

Chapter 51

“Don’t forget Mione, we need to go to Spintwitches! I’m entirely out of broom polish.”

“Trust me Harry, I’m not forgetting. You’ve mentioned it twice already.” 

“I only mentioned it the second time because you weren’t listening to me the first go around!”

Hermione rolled her eyes and shoved at his shoulder. Due to the winter holidays quickly approaching, the teachers had allowed a special added Hogsmeade weekend for gift shopping. Harry and Hermione were going alone together for the first time since fourth year. Ginny had stayed back at the castle to finish a rather lengthy herbology assignment, and Ron was still doing his best to ignore Hermione. He was walking with Dean and Seamus several groups ahead of them. Hermione nearly flinched at the unsettling guilt in her stomach.

“Harry, are you sure you want to do this? You can go on ahead with Ron and the others. I don’t mind.”

Harry shook his head rather forcefully, draping an arm around the witch’s shoulders.

“Hermione Jean, I don’t know how many times I have to repeat myself with you today, but I want to be here with you. You’re my friend too you know.”

“Yes I know that,” she said rather exasperatedly, “I just don’t want you to feel like you’re choosing between the two of us.” “I’m not choosing, I’m sharing,” he amended with a grin. “Besides, any excuse to get you into a sports store instead of a bookshop is a small win for Wizard kind in my opinion.”

She shirked off the arm still wrapped around her in feigned disgust. He merely laughed harder.

The pair spent the day browsing the various shops and displays of the wizarding village. Hermione was mesmerized by the magic Christmas decorations, particularly the sprigs of holly that were charmed to sing carols. At Harry’s suggestion, they finished up their afternoon with a pint of butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks.

“I knew a day without the snakes was too good to be true.”

Harry sighed ruefully and Hermione craned her neck to look behind her, her eyes softening as they spotted a head of blonde and brunette entering the building. Gray eyes smoldering when they met hers. She was convinced they were the prettiest eyes she’d ever see. Hermione spun back around before they were caught.

“Oh, lay off it, Harry. It’s been months and nothing has happened. Can you give your ‘Malfoy is a monster’ tirade a rest?”

“I still think he’s dodgy,” Harry muttered. “And how are we to know what he’s doing at night? Ginny still has my map.”

“I find it highly doubtful that his evening activities are as nefarious as you seem to think they are,” she responded evenly, the irony of her statement not lost on her.

“And my point still stands, there’s been little more than the typical quidditch trash talk out of any of them. The Slytherins have been downright indifferent during prefect rounds, it’s almost enjoyable.”

Harry looked at her incredulously.

“Being charm partners with Nott has made you soft.”

You don’t know the half of it.

Instead of speaking her mind, Hermione smiled and took another sip of her butterbeer.

++++

Hermione heard the screams before she saw anything. She burst forward out of the crowd of students, sprinting around the corner of the worn path. Ahead, she saw the body of a girl suspended in the air. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, tossing about wildly as her body underwent violent tremors.

“Katie!”

A shorter girl with dark brown hair helplessly cried out for her friend. She stood beside the floating body with wide eyes.

“What’s going on!” Hermione demanded, springing into action. Her eyes swept across the people now surrounding the scene, but there was no one with a wand raised, no active threat she could identify.

“I don’t know!” The brunette that Hermione finally identified as a Hufflepuff named Leanne blubbered. “Katie was so adamant about getting back to the castle with this package she was carrying, she insisted that she needed to go as soon as possible. I asked her what was inside, so she opened it. She touched the bloody thing and then next thing I know she’s like this!”

Hermione pulled out her wand.

“Deosurma.”

Nothing

“Silencio Delaborium.”

Still Nothing.

Spell after spell, Hermione tried to lower the girl to the ground and stop the screams, but nothing was working. By then, Harry had shoved his way through to stand next to her, trying awkwardly to comfort Leanne.

“Someone help us! Please!” Leanne wailed.

Hermione, ignoring the chaos, turned to look back into the crowd. Her gaze caught Draco’s, and whatever look she must’ve had on her face had him pushing against the throngs of students to get closer. Before he reached her, however, he realized his mistake. He couldn’t look this invested. Gripping his hands into tight fists, he urged Theo forward with the barest tip of his chin.

“Got yourself into a bit of a bind Granger?”

The Slytherin joked weakly as he approached.

“I think it’s Katie who’s in the predicament,” Hermione replied drily. She tilted her head towards the mysterious half opened package at the suspended girl’s feet, now half buried in the quickly falling snow.

“Whatever is in that must have caused this.”

Harry, also hearing Hermione’s theory, stepped up from beside her to inspect the box.

“Oi! Hands off that, Potter!” Theo scolded. He reached forward and pulled the Gryffindor by the back of his robes.

“If Granger is right then no one else should be going near that.”

He motioned to pull his wand out of his pocket.

“No!” Harry yelled, Theo stopped and looked at him with an arched brow.

“How am I supposed to trust you won’t do something worse to hurt Katie?”

“Harry,” Hermione bit out tightly. “Now is not the time for your ridiculous suspicions. I trust Theo enough to help, alright?”

Harry’s gaze flicked between the two, eventually conceding with a sigh. Theo moved to grab his wand again.

“What in Merlin’s name is happening here?!” The stern voice of Professor McGonagall rang out from the walkway closest to the castle and Hermione couldn’t hold back her sigh of relief.

“Professor! Katie’s been cursed!”

“Most likely by whatever it was she was carrying in that package,” Theo added. He murmured a spell Hermione did not recognize, and a bubble of light emerged from his wand and encased the object in question. When the light touched the box, it turned a startling red.

“Yeah, definitely cursed,” Theo concluded with a wince.

“What was that?” Harry gaped at the boy with wide eyes.

“A dark magic detection spell combined with a trapping enchantment of course,” Theo responded as casually as if he was speaking about the weather. Hermione knew that he’d learned the spell from the Malfoy library last summer. He’d written in the journals to tell her about it. She widened her eyes in what she hoped looked like shock to mirror Harry’s, but based on the wink Theo covertly sent her way, her gesture hadn’t been all that convincing.

Seconds later, Hagrid arrived, followed by Professor Sprout and Professor Snape.

“Students clear the area!” Professor McGonagall announced to the crowd loudly before turning to the students before her.

“Thank you, Miss Granger, Mister Potter, and Mister Nott for your assistance. We’ll handle it from here.”

Hermione nodded dumbly, the adrenaline of the moment finally crashing around her. She felt a tug on her hand pulling her away from the scene, although she didn’t realize it was both Harry and Theo that she was walking with back towards the castle until several minutes later.

“So,” Theo spoke in the aristocratic drawl that he only used with outsiders.

“Do all Gryffindor’s have a natural propensity for danger, or is it just you two?”

“Last I checked, we didn’t ask for your help, Nott,” Harry bit out.

“Last I checked, you would’ve touched that bloody box and been cursed yourself if it weren’t for my intervention. You may not have asked for help but you sure as hell needed it.”

Harry faltered for a moment, clearly chastised.

“Thanks for that,” he muttered at last.

Theo glanced at him warily.

“Don’t worry about it.”

His brown eyes returned to Hermione’s.

“Well, playing savior has been fun and all, but I must be off. I’m supposed to meet back up with Draco.”

“Nott, don’t take this the wrong way,” Harry started, “but for a Slytherin, you almost seem like a decent bloke. Why in Godric’s name are you friends with a git like Malfoy?”

Theo let out a surprised breath of laughter.

“You lions have are brave, I’ll give you that, but you have absolutely no subtlety.”

When Harry didn’t answer, Theo let out a sigh and continued speaking.

“Potter, if you were able to look past your preconceived notions, I think you’d see that Draco is much more than the evil you’ve built him up as in your head.”

“I think he had something to do with this,” Harry admitted, looking at the boy beside him, Theo’s face turned solemn.

“You don’t know me all that well, so my word may mean nothing to you, but I can assure you he did not.”

“…Do you know who did?”

Even with years of training, Theo couldn’t stop his gaze from meeting Hermione’s before he answered quietly.

“No. But I intend to find out.”

+++++

Word of Katie Bell’s experience spread rapidly through the castle. By the time Hermione and Harry made it back to the Gryffindor common room, it seemed as though every student had their own opinions on what had happened.

“So, is it true then?” Seamus Finnegan asked them immediately as they entered through the portrait hole.

“Is what true?” Hermione asked. She noticed that a crowd of students was gathering to listen in, but she tried to ignore them.

“That there were death eaters in Hogsmeade! We heard you had to fight them off.”

Hermione’s eyes widened.

“That didn’t even remotely happen!”

“Well then what did?”

“Katie touched…something. Not entirely sure. But it was cursed and that’s all I know. She’s probably in the hospital wing.”

“No dueling then?”

“No, Seamus, we did not duel death eaters and then casually walk back to the common room without a scratch.”

“Damn it,” Seamus’s shoulders slumped. Hermione’s eyebrows raised in his disappointment over the fact that their tale wasn’t more exciting. She watched him turn to call out to his friend who was playing chess against Ron.

“Dean! You were right, I owe you a sickle.”

“I knew I would be,” Dean Thomas grinned. “You should know better than to trust the Hogwarts rumor mill, Finnegan.”

“Is Katie going to be okay?” A timid first year piped up from the back of the crowd.

Hermione opened her mouth to respond but then faltered. Her mind flashed back to the image of the girl screaming violently in the air. Was she going to be okay? Hermione didn’t know.

Luckily, Harry stepped in to reply.

“Katie is under the best care with Madam Pomfrey. Merlin knows that woman has brought me back from near death more times than I can count. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

His answer received a few chuckles from the crowd, slightly easing the nervous energy that pulsed all around them.

“If any of you would like to start signing a get-well card, I’ll be sure that it gets dropped off to her.”

The younger students scurried off to start on a card, the group finally dispersing at last, and Hermione turned to look at her friend thoughtfully.

“What, ‘Mione?”

“That was great,” she murmured. “You’ve really got a knack for leading people.”

The corner of his mouth lifted in a wry smile.

“Don’t give me compliments like that, you know they’ll go straight to my head.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“They literally call you the chosen one, Harry. Your ego never stood a chance.”

He laughed lightly, tugging her by the hand towards a set of empty chairs in the corner of the room.

“What are we doing?”

Harry ignored her question, instead turning his curious green stare on her.

“What’s going on between the two of you, really?”

Hermione blinked.

“Two of us?”

“You and Nott.”

“What in the world do you mean? A girl was cursed and levitating in the air and you’re mad that he helped?”

“No. I’m just—why did he come to help you?”

“He didn’t come for me, he was helping Katie.”

“Bollocks.”

“Harry—"

“No, ‘Mione. Theodore Nott should care less about Katie Bell. He went up there to help you. Why?”

“I don’t know,” Hermione bit out. “But I don’t like your insinuations. Theo is a rather adept wizard and he maybe wanted to show off his tricks. We’re charms partners, I’m familiar with his magic and for whatever reason he was willing to step in. Does it really matter? The fact is, Theo is not his father, but you refuse to accept that.”

“That’s not what I said—"

“It doesn’t matter what was said, what you implied is that you refuse to believe he could help an innocent student on his own accord.”

The boy was quiet for a moment.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re what?” She gaped. He turned to face her fully in his seat, shame outlining his features.

“You’re right. I’m being unfair.”

“Oh—um,” Hermione stammered out. “That’s rather mature of you.”

“If you two are…together, you’d tell me though, right?”

The girl’s eyes widened in shock as she took in her friend’s uncomfortable body posture, and then she let out a surprised laugh.

“Me and Theo? Together? Absolutely not.”

Harry breathed out a small sigh.

“Okay, I was just checking. But if you two ever…”

“I assure you, Theo and I are not getting together, not now and not ever for that matter.”

He nodded a few times as if assuring himself further and Hermione felt an unexpected twinge of guilt. She may not be with Theo, but she knew that Harry would find the truth to be much worse. It was moments like these where she wanted to tell him almost desperately. What kind of friend was she to keep such secrets from him! She opened her mouth, ready to blast it all and tell him everything, but then she watched his hand absentmindedly sweep his hair off his forehead. The lightning scar splayed there stood as a jolting reminder of why she couldn’t tell him. As long as Harry and Voldemort shared their mental connection, his ability to keep secrets was fallible. She swallowed down her urges and remained silent. The guilt continued to gnaw at her, but after this many years, it was nothing new. Harry continued on in their conversation, oblivious to the war going on in his friend’s head.

“Alright, well now that’s settled. Do you think you could review my defense essay? Snape is being a right arse.”

“Professor Snape,” Hermione corrected, “is just trying to ensure that we are adequately prepared to defend ourselves. If anything, I welcome his rigorous class work.”

“Gryffindor’s favorite swot,” Harry smiled at her and then waited a moment before saying, “so you’ll look over my essay?”

Hermione hesitated slightly before answering.

“Yes, but can I look it over tonight? I’ve just remembered I have something to do.”

She rose suddenly, dusting the nonexistent dust from her robes.

“What? Where are you going?”

“The library!” Hermione called out over her shoulder. “I need to—"

“Get started on next week’s assignments?”

Harry offered and she grinned back at him from the entry to the common room, although it did not reach her eyes.

Once outside of the common room, Hermione turned in the opposite direction of the library, taking off at a running pace up to the seventh floor. She had barely made her third pass by the portrait when the door appeared, and she glanced around warily before slipping inside.

“Oh thank Merlin,” a familiar voice cried out to her arrival. “Look, Draco, just as I promised, she is in one piece. Can you stop your fretting now?”

“Hermione!” Draco ignored his friend entirely and stepped forward to meet his witch at the door. He pulled her into his arms, and she instinctively tucked her head into the crook of his neck.

“Are you alright love?” He murmured. She merely nodded. The hug only lasted a few moments longer before a bony pair of arms forcibly pried it apart.

“My turn, Draco! I’ve been just as worried as you, you great prat!”

Draco huffed a laugh and stepped back, allowing Hermione to be smothered in a tackling embrace of flowing red hair.

“Ooooof,” Hermione grunted on impact. “Hi Gin.”

“What happened! Tell me everything! I’ve been so bleeding worried about you. This is the last time I stay back to finish homework. I’ll be leaving the swottiness to you forevermore.”

“Ginevra, I’ve already told you everything,” Theo chimed in from his place on the couch.

“Yes, well, your retelling of events included significant and unnecessary snark regarding Harry and also did not include the last thirty minutes. So how about you keep quiet, Theodore.”

Ginny’s tone left no room for argument, and Draco snorted when Theo grumbled but otherwise remained silent. Ginny turned her focus back to Hermione.

“Well?”

Hermione recounted the story to Ginny, including a description of the inquisition she’d just endured in Gryffindor tower.

“Well shit,” Ginny blew out a worried breath. “Who would’ve wanted to hurt Katie? She’s one of the nicest people I’ve ever met.”

“I’ve been thinking…” Theo started cautiously, “that maybe this wasn’t an attack meant for Katie.”

“What do you mean, Theo?” Draco asked, taking his own seat on a couch and dragging Hermione down with him.

“I mean, think about it. Katie was carrying a box and she didn’t even know what was inside. The only reason she ended up touching it was because Leanne demanded to know why she was in such a hurry to get back to the castle. I looked at the label on the box when I cast the detection spell. It had Dumbledore’s name on it.”

A gasp left Ginny’s lips.

“Katie was trying to hurt Dumbledore?!”

“No. Well, yes, but not of her own volition. I think Katie was imperiused. Her attacker wanted her to take the package to the headmaster on their behalf, but whoever cast the spell on her did a half-assed job. They must’ve not specified that she wasn’t allowed to open the package herself, only that she was to the give the package to Dumbledore at any cost. And since they weren’t thorough, it makes me think that either they were in a rush to cast the spell before someone noticed, or they’ve never casted an unforgivable before…or both.”

“Shit,” Ginny reiterated.

“Draco,” Hermione spoke nervously, “do you…do you think this has something to do with what your father told you about?”

Draco, his face solemn, nodded once.

“I hate to say it, but yes.”

The room plunged into an uncomfortable silence. Hermione’s heart beat rapidly in her chest. She was not expecting this. When Draco had mentioned that someone else was attempting the task of killing Dumbledore, she had thought it would be a trained death eater. But if Theo was right, this attempt spoke more of a novice…

“Who did this?”

“It has to be a student,” Ginny spoke the words that they all knew in their minds but did not want to believe.

“We need to find out who it is,” Theo sounded sterner than Hermione had ever heard him.

“If it’s a student, then they’ve got to have family ties, right? Nearly all the known death eater families are in Slytherin. Draco, we should be able to figure this out.”

“We’ll have to be careful,” Draco spoke calmly. “We can poke around a bit, but we can’t get too outwardly curious. Who knows how much this person knows? They may be aware that my father’s favor with Voldemort relies on their success or failure and therefore they may think he’s tasked me with gathering intel. We must be discreet.”

“What if we can help them?”

Three heads whipped towards Hermione’s question.

“You want us to help a death eater kill our headmaster?” Theo spoke incredulously and Hermione shook her head.

“I have a hard time believing that this death eater really wants to do what’s been assigned to them. I mean, had Lucius not stood up for Draco, this would’ve been him! What if this student was volunteered by their parents? A death eater in training who never got a say. If we figure out who it is, perhaps we could give them an out. Help them out of their terrible situation?”

“And what if they willingly chose this?” Theo volleyed back.

“Then we’ll stop them before other students get hurt in the crossfire.”

Hermione’s jaw was set in a determined slant.

“But before we jump to any conclusions, we need to know who it is. Then, we need to give them all of their options. No one deserves to be corralled into the dark side simply because of genealogy and a perceived lack of help.”

“She’s right,” Draco agreed instantly and despite the severity Theo chuckled.

“You always think Granger is right.”

“Because she is, and don’t act like you don’t agree with her logic here, mate. Not all Slytherin’s are so lucky to have double crossing spies as parents like us.”

Theo let out a theatrical groan before a grim resolution spread across his face.

“Alright fine, operation Find The Mark has begun.”

++++

The days following Katie’s curse were tense throughout the castle. Hogsmeade trips had been canceled indefinitely, and although no one was outwardly speaking it, many students were coming to face the harsh reality that the wizarding war was on Hogwarts’s doorstep.

After further discussion, Theo and Draco determined that they would begin spending more evenings in the Slytherin common room, hoping to gain information from their classmates. Theo was concerned by the comments Harry had made about Draco when they were helping Katie, so all friends agreed it would be best to keep him as far away from their operation as possible. In turn, Ginny and Hermione were responsible for keeping Harry distracted. Since Ginny was his girlfriend, and a fellow quidditch player, she took the lead. Hermione simply filled in any gaps, such as meals or homework. Collectively, they’d kept Harry so busy over the past week that he’d barely had time to breathe, let alone ponder what was going on in the snake pit. Although Hermione had agreed to their plan, she was distraught to be spending so little time with Draco, and even Theo. It was nice to have more time with Harry and Ginny, but she persistently felt like a piece of her was missing. As the winter hols quickly approached she yearned for time in the room of requirement. Harry hadn’t finalized his Christmas plans yet, but she hoped that he would return to the Burrow to spend the break with Ginny. Two weeks in the castle alone with Draco nearly sounded like paradise.

“Hey Granger!”

Hermione turned her head to the approaching voice and snapped herself out of her Christmas daydream. She had to physically hold back her wince as she watched none other than Cormac McLaggen march towards her in the otherwise empty hallway with his usual pompous swagger.

“McLaggen,” she replied rather stiffly. “Do you need something?”

Hermione had been on her way to the Great Hall for dinner, but in her rush she’d forgotten to check with Ginny and the map. Evidently, her impatience was a costly mistake.

“Yes, actually,” he sent her an oily smile and she felt the bile rise in her throat as he continued on.

“I was wondering if you had a date for Slugworth’s party.”

Hermione had completely forgotten about that blasted party. She’d given Professor Slugworth confirmation that she’d attend weeks ago thinking that she could just go with Harry, but now that he and Ginny were together she’d lost the option. Her mind spun. Of course she couldn’t go with Draco, and now after their run in in Hogsmeade and Harry’s suspicions, it would be unwise to take Theo. Her and Ron weren’t on speaking terms, and she’d just watched Neville bumble his way through asking Luna the other day at breakfast. That left her with, well, no one.

Shit.

“I’m taking your silence as a no?” He pressed.

“Oh, well—"

“Don’t worry, Granger. If you don’t have a date yet, I would love to take you.”

“McLaggen—"

“So it’s settled, we’ll go together. Perfect. I’ll meet you in the common room at seven on Friday.”

“I really—"

“This will be great, Granger, really. I’ve been wanting to spend time with you for ages. You’re a tough girl to track down you know.”

He let out an unsettling low chuckle and then grinned at her yet again.

“See you Friday.”

He then brushed past her in the opposite direction, leaving the girl standing alone in the hallway with her mouth gaping open. That was the exact position Ginny found her in only a few moments later as she also made her way to their supper.

“‘Mione? What are you doing?”

“No!”

The word that Hermione had been dying to say finally burst from her frazzled lips.

“No?” Ginny arched a brow. “No what?”

“Gin,” Hermione groaned, pressing her forehead against her friend’s arm in an act of despair.

“I got myself in a right mess this time.”

“Come on it can’t be that bad.”

“Oh really? It involves one Cormac McLaggen and Slugworth’s Christmas party.”

“…No.”

“Yes.”

“Shite. It really is that bad. How are you going to tell Draco?”

Hermione’s head slid further down on Ginny’s arm.

“Well that just made it even worse.”

Chapter 52

Notes:

TW: Brief mention of attempted assault in this chapter.

Hermione hated the color yellow. It made her complexion look ghastly, and the darker shades reminded her of the bogey flavored variety of Bertie Bott’s beans. Since she despised it, she thought a yellow set of dress robes would be the best option to wear for her night with Cormac McLaggen. She refused to call it a date, both to his face and to anyone who asked. Not to say that deterred him in the least. She’d spent the last hour of the party dodging in and out of crowds in an attempt to shake him. At the beginning of the evening, Ginny and Harry helped somewhat, but Ginny could only be around him for short bursts before her need to hex him grew too great. Harry, ever the moderator in arguments, thought it best to keep Ginny from making a scene. So when Harry hauled the redhead off to cool down, Hermione meandered her way through small talk circles. Luckily, she could smell Cormac’s pungent cologne from several meters away, so she’d been able to tactfully remove herself from conversations just as he’d join them.

Aside from her date, the evening was going somewhat well. She’d already met the Head of the Department of Regulation of Magical Creatures from the Ministry and had a stimulating conversation about trolls. Apparently word had spread quite far about her experience during first year. After that, she met one of the lead singers of the Weird Sisters, and even managed to get an autograph to send to Fred and George. The twins were nearly super fans, after all, it was the least she could do. So, overall, the party wasn’t a total bust.

“Horace!”

Hermione’s attention turned from exchanging pleasantries with another ministry official to the entryway of the party, where Filch was standing rather proudly, holding two boys by the collars of their robes.

“Oh Merlin,” Hermione muttered to herself, gawking at the sheepish looking Slytherins standing before her.

“Whatever is going on, Mr. Filch?” Professor Slughorn spoke quietly and used his body to block the scene from the curious crowd. The rest of the party seemed to turn back into itself, moving smoothly, but Hermione could not. She excused herself from the conversation and eased closer to hear more.

“I caught these two in the hallway! Said they were doing prefect rounds but only one of ‘em has a badge. Figured they were tryin’ to sneak in to yer party!”

”Well sneaking wouldn’t be necessary, Argus, as both of these gentlemen are top notch potioneers and received invitations to this party. They can stay here with me.”

“But—"

“Thank you for dropping them off.”

Filch grumbled but otherwise stopped his argument, instead moving to the doorway to make a hasty exit. Hermione wasn’t sure if Professor Slughorn really had invited the boys, or if he was lying to save face. Typical Slytherin. But she didn’t mind either way if it meant that they got to stay. As if reading her thoughts, Draco’s eyes met hers. She held back a grin. She moved to walk a few steps towards him, but caught the whiff of an unpleasant cologne. Drat.

“Granger,” McLaggen nearly purred, sidling up next to her. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Really?” She played dumb. “I’ve just been making my rounds.”

“Not a worry at all, I’m sure everyone wants a piece of our favorite golden girl, I know I do.”

Hermione gritted her teeth and stared at him blankly. How dare he insinuate such things about her.

“I’m not sure I know what you mean, Cormac,” she concealed her fury with feigned confusion. “Care to explain?”

The faintest hint of pink flushed his cheek as she stared at him expectantly.

“Oh-er-I just meant—"

“Sorry to interrupt, but do you mind if I cut in?”

Theo’s smooth voice rang like sweet relief in Hermione’s ears, she turned to face him.

“Theo! Do you need something?”

“Yes, I was just speaking with a senior project lead in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes, and he was interested in hearing more about our Charms project that we’ve been working on. Would you mind helping me explain it to him?”

His wink was nearly imperceptible, and Hermione found herself immensely thankful for the second time that evening for the subtlety of snakes.

“Oh yes, of course! Excuse me, McLaggen.”

She didn’t spare him a parting glance as she followed Theo through the crowd.

“Granger, darling, must I always save you from precarious situations?” Theo joked lowly to her once they were out of ear shot.

“Don’t tell Ginny and Harry, but you may be the best friend I’ve ever had,” she replied. Theo chuckled, glancing over his shoulder before he pulled her into an obscured corner of the room where someone was already waiting.

“Draco,” she breathed, nearly collapsing into his arms as he moved forward to greet her.

“Love,” he pressed his lips to her forehead. “I’ve barely been here five minutes but if McLaggen gets any closer to you I might have to kill him. Consequences be damned.”

“You can’t,” she sighed dramatically. “Because if he does in fact get any closer, then I will be the one who gets the honor of killing him myself.”

“My feisty little lion,” he murmured affectionately before placing a chaste kiss on her lips.

“Oi! Break it up you two.”

“Sorry Theo,” Hermione had the courtesy to sound at least a bit shameful, Draco merely smirked at him.

“Go on mate, tell her what we discovered tonight.”

“Did you figure out who it is?” Hermione breathed, but Theo shook his head.

“No, not quite. Although we did discover a rather scandalous turn of events,” he grinned at her deviously.

“…what did you find out?”

She felt the vibrations of Draco’s quiet laughter pressed against her shoulder.

“Well, we found out that it is not Pansy Parkinson.”

“Okay?” Hermione still didn’t understand the humor of the situation. “And why is that funny?”

“Because in finding that out, we also discovered that she is in a passionate and clandestine relationship with Padma Patil.”

Hermione gaped at the pair of laughing boys.

“Wow, yes that is certainly shocking.”

Her eyes then narrowed at their amusement. “But I’m clearly still missing the joke here.”

“Their relationship isn’t funny,” Theo clarified. “What’s funny is that we discovered it while trying to hide from Filch. We heard footsteps, ducked behind the first tapestry we could find, and came face to face with Pansy and Padma. Let’s just say they weren’t fully clothed.”

“Theo!” Hermione chided. “That is so embarrassing for them! Tell me you two left.”

“Don’t worry love, we did,” Draco affirmed. “In fact, we let ourselves get caught by Filch so that the two of them could escape. What’s important is that Pansy now knows that we know, and if she knows what’s good for her, she’ll leave us alone unless she wants us to use her secret.”

“But how does Pansy snogging Padma have anything to do with her not being the death eater?”

Theo was quick to respond.

“The reason we were roaming the hallways in the first place was because we saw a Slytherin dressed in a black cloak with their hood up slipping out of the common room. We didn’t know who it was, I think they were using some sort of notice-me-not charm, but it was slight. We were trying to trail them to find out more. We got fairly close, but we heard Filch approaching so we hid. And now we know it’s not Pansy because she couldn’t be both the person in the cloak and the person….canoodling, in our chosen hiding spot.”

“Canoodling?” Hermione mused. “Are we 12?”

“Trust me, Granger, you don’t want me to use descriptive terminology for what I actually think was happening behind that tapestry before we interrupted.”

Hermione’s cheeks burned and she hid her face slightly into Draco’s chest.

“Oh—um-noted.”

Theo grinned yet again.

“So yes, that’s our news. Learn anything good here?”

“Not really,” Hermione grimaced. “I’ve spent most of the evening avoiding my date. I haven’t seen Ginny in an hour or so, she may have gotten something.”

Theo nodded.

“Alright, we can check with her using the journals later tonight. Drake, we should probably head out of here. Slughorn is a true gem for getting us out of detention like that, but I certainly don’t want to get roped into one of his bragging fests.”

“Agreed.”

Draco smiled down at Hermione and kissed the tip of her nose.

“You’ve been here long enough. Do you want us to walk you back to the tower?”

“Although I’d love that, you probably shouldn’t. There’s quite a few Gryffindor’s here tonight, and who knows when they’ll be headed back. I can make it myself.”

His mercury eyes flashed with concern, but he hid it quickly.

“Journal me when you make it back.”

“I will.”

He placed a final sweet kiss to her lips, and then with a salute from Theo, the boys were gone.

++++

In retrospect, she should’ve known better than to walk back through the castle alone. She’d barely made it halfway to the tower before a drunken voice called out to her.

“Granger!”

Hermione kept walking.

“GRANGER!” He all but bellowed. She sighed, stopping and turning to wait for her unwanted guest to catch up.

“Are you drunk?”

“Well, it was a party, after all.”

“You’re a student, the alcohol was for adults.”

“No need to be a prude.”

Her eyes narrowed into a glare.

“Do you need something McLaggen?”

He sent her a dopey smile.

“Yeah, I need my goodnight kiss.”

He leaned closer to her, and Hermione reared back in a mixture of disgust and surprise.

“Absolutely not, Cormac.”

“Oh come on, Hermione,” he slurred, continuing to stalk forward as she stepped back. “I know you feel something between us. We belong together, it just makes sense.”

Hermione’s mind started to turn, evaluating her best shot at getting out of the situation unharmed. She had her wand in her back pocket, but she dicdn’t want to resort to that. Cormac was a git, but she thought he was harmless. Before she could make her decision, he reached out and grasped tightly onto her wrist.

“Let go of me,” she snapped, tugging backward. His grip only tightened. Apparently, he wasn’t quite drunk enough to lose all his instincts. In the midst of her racing thoughts to escape, a low chuckle came from beside them. Out of the shadows, a boy in Slytherin robes came to stand before the pair.

“McLaggen, didn’t your mother ever teach you to keep your hands to yourself?”

Cormac sneered at Draco but let his grip on Hermione slacken. She took the opportunity to squeeze out of his hold and step further out of reach.

“Malfoy,” he growled, “how about you bugger off?”

Draco leaned himself against a stone pillar with a bored expression.

“You obviously aren’t privy to the subtleties of conversation, McLaggen, so I’ll repeat myself. Keep your hands off of things that don’t belong to you.”

“What? As if she belongs to you,” Cormac scoffed. Hermione stilled, watching Draco’s eyes flash dangerously dark.

“She doesn’t belong to me,” he said at last, “she doesn’t belong to anyone other than herself. She’s a person, not a plaything. Treat her like it.”

Instantly, she felt a warming in her heart that spread across her collarbones and down to her fingertips. With Draco here, she was safe. She would always be safe with him.  Cormac, clearly stunned by the Slytherin’s response, stood quiet for a moment before muttering.

“Yeah, of course she’s a person, I’m not daft.”

He turned to her.

“Let’s go, Hermione.”

She hesitated. She didn’t want to go back to Gryffindor tower with him, in fact, she wasn’t sure if she trusted him enough to go anywhere with him ever again. Draco, sensing her fear, leaned forward slightly.

“Based on what I just witnessed, I doubt she wants anything to do with you.”

“Yeah, and I guarantee she wants nothing to do with you either, you rotten little ferret.”

Draco turned to his love, smirking slightly. Again, his gaze darkened. Hermione recognized the flashes of emotion on his face. Fury, resolve, then acceptance.

“Actually, Corbin,”

“It’s Cormac—"

“Doesn’t matter.”

Cormac’s brow furrowed but Draco didn’t see it, his eyes were focused wholly on Hermione.

“Anyhow, Conrad, I lied to you before. I said that Hermione doesn’t belong to anyone, but that’s just not true. Hermione belongs to me, and I belong to her.”

As Draco was speaking, he’d pushed off the wall and moved closer and closer to the girl. Upon uttering his final words, he breached the final gap of distance between them and

pulled Hermione into a deep kiss.

“What the—"

Draco pulled away slightly to smirk at the gaping boy.

“By the way, Cormac, go fuck yourself.”

McLaggen turned, maybe to run, but Draco was quick to his wand.

“Calcitrare ultima.”

The boy grunted in pain and crumpled to the floor. Draco swept forward, leaning over the boy.

“Listen to me carefully. You’re not going to remember most of this, but there’s one point that I want to make very clear. Stay the hell away from Hermione. Don’t touch her, don’t speak to her, don’t even look at her. There is nothing I won’t do to protect her. Blink if you understand? Good.”

Draco then leaned closer and whispered something in McLaggen’s ear. Based on his body language, whatever he said was even more threatening than his last comment. When he was done, he stood up and kicked the boy once in the stomach. Then pointed his wand down at his head.

“Stupefy. Mutare memorias brevis.”

Cormac McLaggen slumped further down to the floor.

Draco turned back to face Hermione, he smiled apologetically.

“Listen, I’m sorry, but I told you earlier that I would kill him, and since I couldn’t actually kill him, I had to do this instead.”

Hermione shook her head at him slightly.

“You’ve made quite a mess of this one, Draco. How did you even find me?”

He somehow managed to look even more ashamed.

“You walking back alone didn’t sit right with me. I was coming up to find you when I heard him yelling. I knew if he was drunk enough to yell in a corridor after hours then he was capable of anything. I came as fast as I could.”

Hermione hummed in response.

“Although I don’t appreciate your lack in trust in my abilities, I do appreciate your concern. What’s done is done I suppose.” She glanced back at the wizard on the ground. “What are we supposed to do with the unconscious git?”

“Oh that’s easy. We slide him up against a wall and wait for Filch or another professor to find him. I only modified his memory of the last hour or so. He doesn’t remember us together, but he does know that he needs to pretend you don’t exist if he values his life. As far as he knows, he drank too much and fell down a moving staircase. It’ll explain the bruises.”

“We could just heal him?”

“Not a chance. He deserves more than what he’s gotten.”

Footsteps echoed from around the corner and Hermione looked at Draco in panic. They didn’t have time to flee, they barely had time to spin around to face the unknown visitor. Hermione gripped her wand tightly behind her back and prayed for the best.

“Well, well, well what do we have here?”

A relieved giggle escaped Hermione’s lungs and Draco hefted a heavy sigh.

“Ginevra Weasley, I don’t think I’ve ever been this glad to see you in my entire life.”

The redhead smiled at her friends, but confusion flickered in her eyes. She appeared to be alone, and just coming back from the party.

“In all seriousness, what are you two doing?”  She looked down. “And what happened to McLaggen?”

As Draco gave Ginny an abbreviated version of the night’s events, her face became redder and redder. By the time he explained how Cormac had grabbed Hermione, she’d heard enough.

“Oh I don’t think so!”

In an instant she marched to the boy who was still unconscious and brandished her wand, muttering a hex. Quickly the skin on his hands became mottled with painful looking blemishes.

“Ginny!” Hermione cried.

“Sorry, but I could not resist. That foul-mouthed, no-good, slimy little narcissist! A disgrace to all Gryffindors!”

“How are we supposed to explain away his blistered hands?”

“We don’t. He won’t know how he got it and that makes it all the more embarrassing. If anything, it should teach him to stop touching things without permission.”

Ginny rose up from her position next to McLaggen’s body and turned to beam at Draco.

“Gin,” Draco almost sounded amused. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because, my dear darling Draco, you gave me my opportunity. I’ve wanted to do that to him all night!”

Draco snorted at the smiling girl’s antics, then tucked an arm protectively around Hermione. He leaned in closer to murmur in her ear.

“Are you alright love?”

“Yes,” she whispered in return. “Although I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, I don’t have to, because I know I’ll always have you.”

He squeezed her a little bit tighter. 

“Always.”

Chapter 53

Hermione needed air.

The Gryffindor common room was overcrowded and unnaturally warm. The heat in combination with the yearning ache she felt in her chest to be with Draco made the party too much to bear altogether. It was the night before the holiday break, semester finals were over, and Gryffindor was having its annual Christmas party. Nearly the whole house had showed up to celebrate, and Hermione had been forced to attend. She’d tried all of her excuses, even said that she wasn’t comfortable around Cormac, but Ginny didn’t buy it, and rightfully so. It had been two weeks since the incident at Slugworth’s party, and Cormac had spent the entirety of that time pretending Hermione didn’t exist. Whatever Draco said was thorough.

Across the room, she watched Ginny and Harry sit side by side on the couch, laughing. If she was honest, she was still surprised seeing the two of them together, especially when she considered the difficult to describe relationship that her red headed friend had developed with Theo. More importantly, she thought that Ginny, or even Harry, would talk to her about it, but the pair had been equally silent over the matter the past few months. She shook her head slightly, it was too bloody hot in that room to think of anything so complicated. She rose from her seat beside Neville and Seamus.

“I’m going to head out for a bit,” she shouted over the noise.

“Do you want me to come with you?” Neville asked. She knew the gesture was harmless, and judging by the protective look on his face, he’d clearly heard from Harry or Ginny some version of her failed outing with McLaggen, but the girl shook her head.

“No, I’ll be okay!”

He nodded.

“Alright, well then I think I’ll be off to bed. Bit too loud down here for my liking.”

He stood up as she did, using his broad shoulders to form a path for her to the entry door.

“Thanks Neville,” she smiled at him, and he threw up a wave before departing for the boys dormitory staircase.

Outside in the corridor, Hermione was met with cool silence. She took several deep breaths, relishing in the quiet.

“A lot going on in there, eh?”

Hermione spun towards the unexpected voice.

“Ron,” she squeaked. “You scared me.”

She hadn’t spoken very much to the boy over the past few months. He did finally apologize about the incident in Charms class at the beginning of the year, but he still hadn’t seemed to come around to the idea of her and Theo as partners. Her initial anger at him had faded now, replaced by a sense of indecision. She didn’t know how to carry on in their friendship when he knew so little about her life. Some friendships faded with time, maybe this would be one of them.

“Sorry,” he scratched at the back of his head. “I think you and I had the same idea. Needed a second to cool off is all.”

“Yeah,” she spoke uncertainly, “same idea.”

“So, I haven’t seen much of you lately.”

The statement was lined with an unasked question.

“Yeah, I’ve been really busy studying.”

“Studying,” he repeated, and then a scoff left his lips.

“Can we stop with the bullshit, Hermione? Harry isn’t here, and I know you aren’t studying.”

She blinked at him a few times, trying to  assess where he was headed with his next words.

“What do you—“

“What do I know?” He cut her off. “More than you’d care to realize, actually.” He made a pained grimace.

“For starters, I know that you spend every free moment you have hanging around Nott and Malfoy in the library.”

The blood in Hermione’s veins went cold.

“You, what?”

He appraised her with an even look.

“Please don’t try to lie to me, ‘Mione. You’re quite bad at it, and I don’t really deserve it. I’ve kept your secret, after all.”

Her stomach lurched as her mind reeled in a hundred different directions. She had so many questions, too many, but she couldn’t ask them. Not now, not with Ron staring at her with a look she could only describe as disappointed. The panic in her blood shifted to something new, guilt.

“How long have you known?” Her voice was small as she tried to hold in the shaking.

“About a month,” he turned to look at her full on. He only stood a head taller, but his presence in that moment felt much larger than it normally did. “But judging by the means of this reaction, I’d venture a guess that it’s been happening for a hell of a lot longer.”

“Ron—“

She trailed off and he arched a brow at her.

“No, go on,” he waved a hand almost nonchalantly. “I’d love to hear an explanation of this. Any excuse as to why you’d hide this from your best friends.” The bitterness in his tone felt like a slap to the face.

“It wasn’t safe,” she whispered, helplessly, “not for them, or for you. I couldn’t.”

“You couldn’t,” he echoed. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

He ran a hand through his fiery hair and then sighed. Hermione’s body tensed, ready for the explosion of anger she was sure to come. Ron had always been known for his temper, but the voice he used next was surprisingly calm.

“That day in potions, after Nott distracted McLaggen on your behalf, I came looking for you. I’d let my anger get the best of me, and I wanted to apologize for what I’d said in Charms, tell you that I did trust your judgment and that I hated going so long without speaking, but I couldn’t find you anywhere. I knicked the Mauraders Map from Ginny’s bag in the quidditch locker room, and I saw your name in the library, with them.”

Hermione’s eyes honed in on him, her heart racing.

“At first, I thought it was just a mistake or something. But the next night, when you weren’t in the common room, I borrowed the cloak and went to the library. I could hear you from behind the stacks. The worst part, though, was that I could hear Gin, too.”

“She figured it out on her own,” Hermione mumbled and Ron nodded.

“Oh, I know. I confronted her on it almost immediately. It was quite the row, actually, we haven’t been on the best of terms since.”

Hermione’s mind flashed to scenes from the past several weeks. She had assumed that Ron was angry about Ginny dating Harry, but maybe it was something else entirely.

Ron, seeming frustrated with Hermione’s silence, spoke again.

“Listen, I’m not going to tell anyone, okay? Ginny threatened my life not to, but even if she hadn’t I would’ve kept my mouth shut.”

“Why?” The word was out before she could stop.

“Why aren’t you telling people? You—you should hate me.”

He stared at her, long and hard.

“I’m angry with you.” A pause. “Unbelievably angry, and if I’m being honest, I don’t know how to process it other than being angry. But I’ll always have your back, Mione.” He shrugged halfheartedly. “Merlin knows you’ve saved my life more times than I can count. So I have to trust that despite my arguments against this, you know what you’re doing, and I can’t stop your choices.”

“Ron, I’m sorry.” Hermione blinked away the tears that were forming in her eyes. “The stakes are so high now, everything is dangerous. I don’t deserve your trust, but please, know that I’d never truly betray you or Harry.”

The right corner of his mouth lifted slightly.

“I’m not entirely daft, I know you wouldn’t, and although it physically pains me to admit it, I also know that your ferret won’t either. Ginny refused to say much, but she did make that distinction quite clear. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still mad at you, both of you, but I stand behind you regardless.”

She nodded and then added weakly.

“And about Harry—“

He held up a hand to pause her.

“I won’t tell Harry. If I haven’t told him yet there’s no point in telling him now.” He gave her a poignant look. It made him seem years older than she’d ever seen him look before.

“I know that he’s hiding something from me too. I just—I don’t know why you two seem to think that I’m so dense.”

“Ron, I don’t think that,” she spoke gently, the guilt pressing down on her shoulders, nearly suffocating. “I’ve been so caught up in my own web of secrets that I’ve been a selfish friend. And for that, I’m sorry, but I never thought you were dumb…” she sucked in a breath, and then finally released the truth behind her actions.

“I guess I just figured that I wasn’t important enough for you to notice.”

Because when Hermione really thought about why she’d been keeping her secrets, that was the crux of the matter. She’d never really thought that Ron, maybe even Harry, would care. Logically, she knew the boys cared for her. But despite that, a nagging insecure part of her brain had always been louder. It told her that Ron befriended her out of a misplaced sense of guilt, and because of that, he would never truly be interested in what was going on in her life. As they grew older, she became helpful in classes and in fighting Voldemort, and the voice said that was why they kept her around. Again and again her brain told her it was for convenience, and over the past several years, when they didn’t notice her sneaking around with Draco, she kept letting herself believe the voice. Her secrets weren’t important to them because she wasn’t important to them. In a surge of bravery, she tried to explain these fears to Ron aloud, but she was sure that it sounded jumbled and a bit incoherent.

“And um, yeah, I think that’s about it.”

The boy gaped at her now silent form.

“Are you serious?” His voice was low, tinged with disbelief.

“Hermione you’re one of my best friends, basically family, and you think I don’t care about you?”

He let out a low whistle.

“Wow, I’ve had my head shoved farther up my own ass than even my brothers teased me about. I must’ve lost touch with that while they’ve been off designing catastrophes labeled as jokes.”

Hermione was surprised by the sound of her own laughter. He grinned at her, it was small and tired, but a grin nonetheless.

“‘Mione, I clearly don’t tell you this enough, but I love you. Harry and I both do. Of course you’re smart and bloody helpful to have around, but being friends with you has always been more than that. I’m sorry that you’ve felt this way for so long and I’m even more sorry that you felt like you couldn’t tell me. I—Merlin, I’m shite at this kind of emotional talk.” He took a deep breath and then continued. “I always want to hear what’s going on in your life, even if it means I have to grit my teeth and hear you talk about snogging the ferret…although maybe I’d prefer if you actually just kept that stuff to Ginny, and—Wow, I’m floundering here. Maybe this is why Harry hasn’t shared with me either.”

Hermione decided to spare Ron by diverting the conversation to a new direction.

“I also don’t know what’s going on with Harry,” she vowed. “That’s between him and Ginny.”

“I don’t know when it happened,” Ron’s voice dropped so low that she had to lean in to hear him.

“What?”

“I don’t know when we went from the three of us being inseparable to whatever we are now.”

Hermione let his words sink into her skin. He was right. She hadn’t noticed it happening, each day that passed had pulled the trio farther apart, like ink that keeps bleeding until the words blur into nothing. But she didn’t want them to be nothing. Harry and Ron were her first true friends, the ones to stick by her in a new world where everything felt so foreign and intimidating. To hell with that insecure voice inside her head. She knew deep inside herself that their friendship was true, and she refused to let it fizzle out, especially with danger looming so close. Acting on instinct, Hermione reached out to grab Ron’s hand.

“We can fix what we are.” Her voice came out strong, determined. “It may not be the same, but it could be better. You, me, and Harry? We’re in this together. I’m sorry that I lost track of that for so long.”

He blinked at her, and then a slow smile spread across his face. He pulled her into a hug, the kind that was fully uninhibited, and he spun them in a circle until she demanded breathlessly to be put down.

“Ron, I can’t believe you were able to figure this all out, yet you still haven’t noticed that Lavender Brown fancies you.”

Ron’s brow furrowed.

“She does?”

“Yes! She follows you around, sits next to you in classes, and glares if another girl so much as walks near you. And don’t even get me started on how she wanes on and on about you in the dorms.”

“Huh, I didn’t know.”

Hermione shoved at his shoulder.

“Well you do now, and I know you think she’s fit because I’ve heard you say it to Harry, so maybe do something about it? Preferably before she smothers me in my sleep.”

The pair was still laughing when they heard the sound of rustling robes coming down the hallway. Hermione turned towards the noise and watched a platinum head of hair walk towards them. When it came to her, Draco didn’t need a Maurader’s Map, he had an uncanny ability to find her in all circumstances. Must’ve been a soul mate thing.

“Malfoy,” Ron spoke cautiously, taking a small step back from Hermione. It wasn’t much, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

“Weasley,” he responded in a bored tone, but his sight lingered on the new space between the two. His eyes then flicked to Hermione’s, assessing her intensely. His mask of indifference was up, but she could see a mix of worry and envy swirling in the depths of his silver irises.

“Having a lovers quarrel out here?”

“Shouldn’t I be saying that to the two of you?” Ron shot back at him, and Draco stiffened.

“I don’t—“

“Draco.” Hermione’s voice was soft. “Stop. He knows.”

Draco paused for a moment, switching his sight between the two before him, and then he schooled his expressions yet again.

“Right, well, have at it then, Weasley.”

Ron tilted his head.

“What?”

“Go on, hex me or something. Free shot.”

“Draco!” Hermione chided but he sent her a placating smile.

“Oh come on, love, you know he deserves one.”

Ron, despite the awkwardness he may have been feeling in the moment, coughed out a laugh.

“I never thought I’d find you funny, Malfoy.” He shook his head. “But I don’t need to hex you.”

Instead, he squared his shoulders, stepping forward a few steps until the two boys stood eye to eye.

“What I need is to say this. Don’t you dare hurt her.”

Draco nodded silently, so the Weasley continued.

“You love her, but I loved her first. It might not be the same thing, but it’s still just as important. You do anything that harms Hermione and you’ll have me to answer to. Got it?”

Draco mulled over his words for a moment, and then stuck out his right hand.

“I will protect her. Always.”

Ron placed his hand into the Malfoy heir’s and shook once, firmly.

Draco stood silent for a moment, and then asked.

“You’re not going to have me make the same promise to protect your sister?”

Ron laughed.

“If Hermione chose you, I’d reckon you’re smart enough to know that Ginny can take care of herself.”

At that, Draco’s facade cracked into a smile.

“Yeah, you’re right about that one.” He paused for a moment, hearing the echoes of footsteps several hallways away.

“Well I’m just finishing up prefect rounds, covering for Theo since he’s up in the Astronomy tower taking his final. Patil was with me, but her cough was atrocious. Must’ve caught a cold at the last quidditch match. I sent her back to the Ravenclaw tower an hour ago.” His steely eyes met Hermione’s.

“Hermione, care to join me in finishing the patrol?”

Hermione didn’t answer immediately, instead choosing to look at Ron. He rolled his eyes before nudging her foot playfully with his own.

“Oh just go, I know you want to.”

“I do,” she agreed easily, “but I wanted to make sure we were good first.”

The red head smiled down at her, and the familiarity of the expression after so long caused a pang deep in her stomach.

“Yeah ‘Mione, we’re going to be fine.”

She nodded, hope shining in her amber eyes.

“I’m leaving it up to you to tell Harry, though,” he added. “You know as well as I do that he’s been obsessed with ferret hunting for months.”

“I heard that,” Draco scoffed.

“Yeah I was hoping you would,” Ron shot back before turning his attention to Hermione.

“You’re running out of time with this.”

“I know, you’re right. I’ll figure something out.”

But what she didn’t know was just how little time there was.

Chapter 54

“That’s four!” Ron grinned at his brother across the table as his final chess piece fell.

“Check mate.”

“No bleedin’ way,” Fred huffed, shoving the wizards chess board towards him in an exaggerated display of poor sportsmanship.

“Oi! Forge, get over here and try to beat this git.”

“No can do Gred,” George called from around the corner in the kitchen. “I’m helping mum wrap presents.”

“More like you’re nosy and trying to see what everyone else has gotten!” Ginny chimed in from her seat next to Harry on the hearth of the fireplace. She loved these days around the holidays when all her brothers were home. It happened so few and far between now that she recognized them for what they truly were, precious.

“Ginbug you wound me!”

“I may wound you but you don’t deny my statement,” she volleyed back and received a burst of far off laughter in response. By the sounds of it, Bill was also in the kitchen.

“Charlie,” Fred turned his attention to the other Weasley sibling in the room.

“How about you give it a go? See if you can give Ronnekins a run for his galleons.”

Charlie shifted his gaze from the window to meet his brother’s questioning stare.

“No,” he said after a beat of silence, “I think I’d rather sit this one out.”

Ginny watched Fred’s shoulders deflate a bit at the response, but he shook it off quickly.

“Well, how about a spot of backyard quidditch? I’m a dab hand at warming charms since creating our weather in a bottle product line.”

“Yeah, and I could always use the extra practice. Harry and Ginny too!” Ron offered in with a tentative smile. “What do you say?”

Charlie let out a slow breath, and the room lapsed into anticipatory silence. Even the sounds of wrapping in the kitchen had ceased.

“Sorry, lads, I’m just not quite up to it at the moment.” He stood from his seat and ambled towards the stairs.

“I’ll be up in my room if anyone needs me.”

His steps were measured and quiet, a reflection of his mien as of late. Charlie had been withdrawn from the moment Ginny met him at Platform 9 and 3/4. He’d spent most of his last few days sitting in an armchair in the corner of the living room, his nose either in a book or gazing out the window. Gone were his usual bellowing laughs and wrestling fits with his younger siblings. Instead, he was grieving. Ginny knew that the loss of Tonks in the Department of Mysteries would hurt Charlie, but until this point she hadn’t been able to witness just how much pain her brother was in. This was the first time he was back at the Burrow since the funeral. He’d spent the remainder of the past year in Romania. Ginny imagined that his choice was due to the fact that it was easier to ignore a herd of fire breathing dragons than it was to ignore the worried stares of the Weasley family. It pained her to see him like this. Hell, it pained all of them to see him like this, but try as they might none of her brothers had been able to fix it.

“I was just trying to help,” Fred mumbled rather pathetically. Ginny, feeling a twinge of sympathy for her typically jovial brother, rose from her spot and went to sit beside him.

“We know, Freddie.” She rested a hand on his shoulder. “And he knows that, too, it’s just hard for him right now. We have to keep showing Charlie that we’re there for him, and eventually he’ll be ready to accept it.”

“Maybe you should give it a go, Gin,” Ron spoke from across the table. “You’re his favorite. Plus, he doesn’t seem to want to do any of our distraction techniques, maybe he uh—wants to talk about his feelings.”

“Ah, yes, feelings,” Ginny mused, “not exactly your strong suit, is it Ron?”

Ginny had heard through the journals about Ron and Hermione’s discussion the week before. Normally, she’d be relieved that there was one less person to keep secrets from, but a small albeit bitter part of her was still angry at him for being an utter prat. The words that Ron had shouted at her when he initially discovered her friendship with Draco and Theo still burned. Traitor. Liar. Fool.

Of course, he’d since apologized, many times over, but the resentment slightly lingered. He deserved the jabs she threw at him now, and he even had the wherewithal to appear chastised by them. 

“Not my best trait,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head. His lips remained silent but his eyes sparkled with a warning. Don’t say anything else lest you want your boyfriend to catch on. “Anyhow, you should do it.”

“Yeah Gin, lean into your femininity.” The joking glimmer had returned to Fred’s eye. Thank Godric. She didn’t think she could handle two melancholy brothers.

“Embrace your future motherhood! We all know Potter isn’t going to be the parent who handles emotions,” George added in from just beyond the wall. Harry’s cheeks instantly turned pink.

“Oi! Don’t talk about my best mate and my sister having children!”

Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Oh shove off all of you! And leave Harry out of this. I’m going upstairs.”

She put extra effort into her footsteps on the stairs as a warning to her arrival. When she reached the third landing, she paused to stare at the closed door in front of her. Charlie’s door was never closed. She knocked once, tentatively, and then a second time with more force.

“Come in.”

She opened the door, just a crack, and slipped inside. It was dark in the room, the curtains still drawn as if it was early morning instead of late afternoon. Charlie lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. In his right hand was a snitch. Ginny watched curiously as he tossed the golden sphere into the air, let it hover a few seconds, and then snatched it. Again and again.

“Charlie?”

He sighed.

“Yeah Gingle Bell?”

The nickname sent a nostalgic wave deep into her chest. She had the sudden urge to cry, both for her brother and because of him. She swallowed back the tears and sat carefully on the corner of his bed.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He finally looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time since she’d been home. Their blue eyes met, his shade slightly darker than her own but familiar all the same. In his gaze she saw the sadness and the guilt, and she longed to save him from it.

“Well?”

“You’re the first person to ask me that.”

She arched a brow. “I may be the first one to ask directly, but I am certainly not the first one who’s concerned. I’m not even the first one who’s tried helping this hour.”

Charlie grimaced and then sighed again. “Yeah, I know, I’ll apologize.”

“What? To Freddie? We both know that he’s done enough to us in his lifetime for the sake of a laugh to not deserve anymore apologies.”

The glimmer of a smile flickered on his face, there and gone in an instant.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. Ron might deserve one though.”

“I can assure you he doesn’t,” Ginny bit out before she could stop herself. Charlie tilted his head.

“And what did Ronnekins do to piss you off this time?”

“I’m not here to talk about me,” she redirected, “I’m here to listen to you. So talk.”

Charlie crossed his arms and leaned back against his headboard.

“Talk about what?”

Oh, so he was going to be a pill about it? Fine, two could play at that game.

“Tonks.”

Charlie flinched like the name itself caused physical pain. Ginny shoved down the twinge of guilt and kept going.

“I’m sorry, Charlie. I know this is difficult, but I also want you to know that you don’t have to do this alone. I want to help, we all do, but you have to let us in..at least a little bit.”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

“Bullshit.”

“Ginevra Molly!”

“Charles Septimus!”

He blinked at her, once, then twice.

“I miss her. I miss her so damn much.” His voice cracked on the last word and so did Ginny’s stern facade. She crawled up the bed towards her brother, throwing her arms around him.

“It all sucks,” he whispered, “I should’ve been there. I wasn’t there to protect her.”

“You know damn well she was glad you were in Romania, she wanted you safe.”

“What about what I wanted! What about our future! I—I didn’t even tell her I loved her, Ginny. She died not knowing how I felt.”

“Oh Charlie,” Ginny pulled out of her embrace to look up at her older brother’s heartbroken expression.

“You know that isn’t true. Maybe you didn’t say it, but there’s no way that Tonks didn’t know how you felt. She saw it every time you looked at her, just like you saw it every time she looked back at you.”

Charlie shook his head.

“There’s power in words, Gin. She deserved better from me.”

“I cannot take your guilt from you,” she started. “No matter how many times I tell you differently, the only person who can absolve your guilt is yourself. But what I can say is this, do you really think this is what she would’ve wanted? What she died for? For you to be miserable?”

“…No,” he croaked.

“Exactly. She would’ve wanted you to live, Charlie. She loved you as you were, bright and vibrant and loud. You feel things deeply and you love people even deeper. I may not have known her that well, but I know that she’d be devastated to see you like this, in fact she might be downright furious.”

“She’d probably kick my ass,” Charlie muttered with a wet chuckle. Ginny nodded, moving in closer to rest her head on his shoulder.

“We can’t change what happened, and that sucks. It’s all bloody rubbish and it’s painful as hell, and you have every right to feel what you’re feeling. But I can share the weight of your burdens, if you let me.”

“How…how do I move on, Ginny? I can’t just forget about her, I can’t leave her behind. She was one of the biggest parts of my life for over a decade, I don’t know what life looks like without that.”

“You don’t have to leave her behind,” Ginny’s tone remained quiet but was edged in a new ferocity. “She will always be with you, right in the middle of your heart where she’s always been. We will keep her memory alive, I promise you, but only if you promise to keep living. Honor her sacrifices and live for the both of you.”

Her brother didn’t speak for a moment. She relished in the calm, listening patiently as his ragged breaths became slower. At last he spoke.

“You’re right. I’ll do it.”

Ginny squeezed his shoulders a bit tighter. “Tell me about her. Tell me your favorite story.”

And with another deep breath, he began.

++++

Charlie wasn’t healed overnight; Ginny knew it wouldn’t be that easy. And there were many moments over the next few days where he remained quieter than he would’ve been before. But there were glimmers of hope amongst the sadness, too. At Christmas Eve dinner, Charlie laughed at one of George’s jokes, a true laugh that made his eyes crinkle in the corners. On Christmas morning, he shoved Ron out of the way for the last Chelsea bun, and on Christmas night, when the rest of the family had already gone up to bed, he sat next to Ginny on the couch facing the fire, drinking hot chocolate out of mismatched mugs.

“So,” Charlie stared into the low burning flames. “You and Harry.”

“What about us?” Ginny asked, turning to assess her brother’s side profile. She raised the mug up to her lips and waited for an answer.

“When are you going to come clean and admit it’s fake?”

Ginny choked.

“Wh-what are you talking about?” She sputtered. Charlie glanced at her, his eyes twinkling with mirth.

“You question it, but you didn’t deny it.”

“I…Shit.”

Charlie laughed as Ginny felt panic creep up her neck.

“You haven’t told anyone, have you?”

He leaned back on the couch and grinned lazily at her. “No, and I won’t. I didn’t become your favorite brother by being a turncoat.”

She blew out a small breath of air and he watched her carefully.

“Do you want to talk about it? You’ve made me do an awful lot of talking these past few days, it feels like it’s your turn.”

“How did you figure it out?” The question bubbled out of her before she could stop it.

“You said it to me a few days ago, that you could tell I loved Tonks by the way I looked at her. You don’t look at Harry like that. Sure, you might care for him, but you aren’t in love with him. Don’t get me wrong, you’re both playing the part rather well, but it’s not perfect. Beyond that, I know more context clues.”

“Which are?”

“Well for starters, I know that you are in love with someone, it’s just not Harry.”

Ginny tried to school her expressions. “And how did you jump to that bold and largely unfounded conclusion?”

His lips twitched in amusement.

“I may have been quiet this past week but that doesn’t mean that I stopped paying attention. I noticed you opened three presents morning that weren’t wrapped like the rest of them, which meant you brought them with you from school. My initial thought was Hermione, but it felt a bit ridiculous for her to buy you three gifts. Then I noticed that one of the presents was a new pair of enchanted weatherproof flying goggles. Hermione doesn’t know anything about quidditch.”

“Oi! Hermione knows about everything, give her the credit that is due,” Ginny argued, and he threw up a hand in acquiesce.

“Yes, okay maybe so, but the way you smiled when you read the note attached to that quidditch gift is what really had me convinced. You looked at that note in the way that you haven’t looked at Harry. Whoever sent it to you is the person you want to be with.”

Ginny remained silent and Charlie took it as an opening to keep speaking.

“This morning I watched you open that gift, and I saw your excitement, and it made me remember a similar look on your face from last Christmas break, before all the stuff happened with Dad. I realized that this isn’t some passing fancy.  I also recognized those goggles did not come cheap. It took me all day to think about it, but I wracked my brain for reasons why you would pretend to be in a relationship with Harry when you could just date this mystery guy instead. I thought through every wizard you’ve brought up over the past few years, and I came to a conclusion…it wouldn’t need to be a secret if the person was someone mum and dad would approve of. He’s in Slytherin, right?”

Ginny’s heart pounded so loudly in her ears that Charlie’s explanation sounded distant. What should she do? What does she say? How could she fix it? She said nothing.

“Gin,” Charlie’s voice took on a gentler tone. “S’alright, I’m not mad. If anything, I’m curious.”

“About?” Ginny managed to choke out.

“Well, for starters, about how you ended up falling in love with a bleedin’ snake.”

“We’re not together,” she blurted, and Charlie smirked.

“But you want to be.”

“No—no,” she reiterated more firmly, “I’m with Harry.”

“I thought we already covered that’s a sham? You don’t have to lie to me, honestly, I’m not going to tell anyone. I’ve known that Harry is into blokes for years and you don’t see me shouting it across the dinner table.”

Ginny’s jaw nearly hurt with the force that it dropped open.

“How do you know?!”

“My job is to wrangle dragons, which means all of my training is on identifying subtle behavior clues to anticipate their next moves. It means I’m bloody observant. And, no offense, but you lot are somewhat oblivious teenagers. It wasn’t all that difficult to figure out. The fact that no one else has noticed yet is beyond me.”

“I—what—wow.” Ginny couldn’t formulate a full sentence and her brother let out another low laugh.

“I’m impressed, Charlie.”

“Stop trying to distract me with flattery. Who is the nameless Slytherin? And before you give me a lecture on how it’s some dangerous secret, I’m going to stop you and tell you that if Ron gets to know then so do I.”

“And who says Ron knows anything?”

“Ginny, he’s walked around the last week with a self-assured grin plastered on his face like a cat that caught the canary. He may not know the truth about his own best mate, but he is holding something over you. Neither of you are fooling anyone.”

Ginny crossed her arms across her chest and let out a humph that was reminiscent of the tantrums she threw as a child. Charlie smiled.

“Come on, Ginbug, just give me a name. I promise it stays between us.”

“I want to preface, by emphasizing the fact that we are not together. He is one of my best friends and that is it.”

The older Weasley made a rolling motion with his right hand ushering her to continue. Ginny took a sharp inhale, and then on the exhale, “ItsTheodoreNott.”

“Huh?”

Another breath, and again much slower. “It’s Theodore Nott.”

Charlie blinked, but she was otherwise impressed by his lack of outrage.

“….Are you mad?”

“I already told you I’m not mad, little sister.” He scooted closer to nudge his shoulder against hers.

“Despite what mum and dad, maybe even Bill, seem to think, you aren’t a little kid anymore. You’re fully capable of making your own decisions and choosing your own friends, and I’m sure if you love him then you have a damn good reason to.”

“Thank you,” she whispered hoarsely, surprised by the sudden emotion burning her eyelids. She hadn’t realized just how meaningful the validation was until she received it.

“I can’t say much, but I want you to know that he’s not his father and he’s not dark. He’s funny and generous and loyal and…he’s just great.”

Charlie’s features softened.

“I’m not trying to tell you what to do, promise, but I think you should tell him how you feel. Take it from the guy who missed his chance, if you love him, tell him.”

Ginny’s hand darted up to swipe away the tear forming in the corner of her eye.

“I’m scared, Charlie.”

“I know it’s scary, but love can be stronger than your fear,” he gave her a wistful smile. “I wish someone would’ve been there to tell me.”

The pair sat in silence for a while, staring at the flames.

“I’ll think about it,” Ginny said at last. She heard the smile in her sibling’s voice as he replied, “Good. There’s never been something that Ginny Weasley hasn’t been able to do when she puts her mind to it.”

Chapter 55

 

The castle was blessedly quiet over winter break, so quiet, in fact, that Hermione was able to be with Draco and Theo in public places. They spent a majority of their days in the main section of the library, where Madam Pince treated them with the same level of disdain that she carried for all students. If Theo or Draco got restless, they’d roam the halls and outdoor corridors, engaging in games of hide and seek and snowball fights. 

When Christmas morning came around, the trio was delighted to find a surprise ready for them in the room of requirement, courtesy of the Malfoy house elves. Narcissa was distraught that her and Lucius couldn’t be with them for the holiday, but the spontaneous threat of Voldemort’s arrival at the manor was too risky. To make up for it, she sent Poppy to Hogwarts with all the fixings for a Malfoy Christmas, along with gifts for each of them. 

By New Years, Hermione was sad to see the holidays coming to an end. Although she missed Ginny terribly, she was rather fond of her stolen moments with Draco. The past two weeks had also been the most calm she’d felt since the Department of Mysteries. Knowing that her parents were on a trip to visit her aunt in America helped soothe her near constant state of worry. For just a moment, she was able to pretend that she wasn’t a muggle born in the midst of a blood purity war; however, her false sense of security crashed around her the day before term. 

Hermione read the headline of the prophet with shaking hands. 

“Attacks on muggle homes in London—are death eaters to blame?”

Her eyes snapped to Draco’s across the room, the panic in her expression enough to make him stand and walk towards her, despite the full assemblage of teachers sitting at the head table. He flicked a tentative glance upwards to meet his godfather’s gaze. Severus nodded slightly, and then cleared his throat to garner the attention of the rest of the staff. They all looked at him immediately, except for McGonagall, who stared at Draco intently, before shifting her body towards her colleague. Draco would have to process that interaction later. 

“What’s wrong love,” he murmured to Hermione. It was so early that there were no other students at the Gryffindor table but he whispered all the same. She thrusted the paper into his hands, her eyes lined with silver. 

“Send a message to Lucius,” her voice shook. “I need to know if my parents are next on the list.” 

Draco underwent years of childhood training to mask his emotions, but the moment he read that sentence all his preparation went out the window. 

“Fucking hell.” 

“Please, Draco.” 

He was up and moving without another word. 

++++

Many hours passed and Draco had still not heard back from his father. He, Hermione, and Theo arrived in the room of the requirement shortly after breakfast, and they’d tried but failed all afternoon to entertain themselves. Now in the early hours of the evening, Theo scribbled vigorously with a charcoal pencil on a notepad, and Hermione paced back and forth along the far wall in the room. Ginny, who had arrived back to the castle for spring term and immediately reunited with her friends, was staring absentmindedly at a quidditch magazine. Draco watched all of them with a careful eye, unsure of how to calm them, even more unsure of what was going to happen next. 

A glimmer of shimmering light pulled his attention away from his friends. It slithered from under the doorway before taking corporeal form as a doe. 

“My office. Now. Don’t be seen.” 

Severus’s voice faded into the room’s silence. Ginny was on her feet immediately, shortly followed by the others. 

“Draco and Hermione, go,” the red head’s tone uncharacteristically solemn, but her blue eyes burned with a bright intensity. “It’ll be too hard to hide all four of us across the castle, especially without Harry’s cloak.” 

“We’ll provide the distraction,” Theo added in, placing a tentative hand on Ginny’s shoulder. He looked down at her with a half-smile. 

“What do you say, G, up for starting a ruckus?” 

“When have I ever answered no to that question?” She grinned back. “I have a few of the new Weasley Wizards Wheezes indoor fireworks from Christmas that I think will do just the trick.”

Draco looked away to roll his eyes. Those two troublemaking idiots were perfect for each other whether or not they admitted it. He wrapped Hermione’s hand in his own.

“Let’s go.” 

++++

There were three figures standing in Professor Snape’s office when they entered. Hermione gripped Draco’s fingers even more tightly. 

“Mother, Father,” Draco spoke shakily. “What are you doing here?”

The children walked closer and Severus muttered silencing and locking enchantments behind them.

“Were you noticed?” 

“No,” Hermione replied. “Ginny and Theo lit fireworks in the fourth floor corridor. Nearly all of the castle went to either stare at the spectacle or punish who did it.” 

The professor pinched the bridge of his nose in distaste.  

“And your friends couldn’t have chosen a more subtle approach of distraction?”

“Now, now, Sev,” Lucius joined the conversation with a strained chuckle. “We all know that Theo has a flair for theatrics. It’s about the only trait he took from his father.” 

He moved forward and Hermione tried not to stare at his new right hand. It looked like a hand, for the most part, but the entire thing was semi-translucent and had a magical glow about it. Hermione had recently read about advancements in magical prosthetics using charm work, and she wagered this was a very expensive and very new prototype.

“Lucius,” Hermione peered up at his face. “What are you and Narcissa doing here?” 

Their gazes met, one wary and the other exhausted. 

“I’m sorry, Hermione,” Lucius said at last. “Despite my attempts, I feel as though I’ve failed you.” 

“Why?” The word tasted chalky on her tongue. 

“After I received your message, I did some…investigation,” Lucius replied, his expression sorrowful. 

“I sought out the death eaters who had been involved in the muggle attacks and I used legilimency to discover their plans for their next target...Voldemort knows about you and your friendship with Harry Potter. He will stop at nothing to cause pain in your life, and he wants to delay or hamper any attempts you may have to thwart him.” 

“The next targets are my parents.”

Hermione uttered it more as a statement then she did a question. Lucius’s silence was all the answer she needed. Her mouth had gone bone dry and her thoughts spiraled out of control around her. Her parents were next. They didn’t know enough about magic, they couldn’t protect themselves. They would die and it was all her fault. 

“I-I can’t. They can’t. We have to do something! I can put their house under the Fidelius Charm!”

“Magic doesn’t work well within the muggle world. If we hid their house the neighbors would notice the absence. Beyond that, the death eaters already know where they are…they’d be trapped inside their house.” 

“Then we unattach them from the magical world.” She said the words casually, as if she was spouting off a fact from Hogwarts A History rather than rewriting her entire life. 

“Love,” Draco spoke carefully, pulling her closer to him, “you do know the implications of what you just said, right?” 

“Yes,” her voice faltered. 

“Magic is a threat to their safety, I am a threat to their safety, and I will not risk their lives for my comfort. I have to obliviate them. Erase all of their memories and ties to me, move them far away to another continent, and give them a new life. It’s a one way ticket to safety.” 

Draco nodded, his thoughts focused on the term she had just used—one way. She knew as well as him that obliviating was irreversible. 

“I’m so sorry,” Draco whispered to her. “I wish there was another way.” 

“There is.” Narcissa’s soft reply had all the  heads in the room turning towards her. 

“What do you mean, mother?” 

“The Fidelius Charm doesn’t work in the muggle world,” Narcissa started, her eyes on Hermione. “But it does work in the magical one. Obliviate, as we all know, permanently erases memories. They would be safe from this war, but they’d be gone forever. Hiding them, on the other hand, will allow them to return to their normal life once the war is over. They have to agree to it, of course, but we can provide them with a place to go. We’ll put them under the Fidelius Charm at one of the Malfoy properties, one that the Dark Lord doesn’t know about. We’ll supply them with house elves for protection, and once it’s over we will bring them back.”

Hermione’s eyes widened.

“Cissa? You’ll really do this for me?”

The older witch nodded. 

“I can save them, and I will.” Her eyes softened as they met Hermione’s. 

“You are my family, and by extension, so are they. I protect our family at all costs.” 

“Are you sure you can do this?” Draco asked. Lucius scoffed at his son’s doubtful expression. 

“Draco, your mother has successfully ran an espionage mission for two decades. She was best friends with the only witch who has ever brought down the dark lord, and she’s the highest trained natural born occulumens in the last century. No one can get in her mind. So yes, I think she’s fully capable of handling of one somewhat difficult spell and a temporary protection order.”

Draco shrunk down in embarrassment and Hermione snorted. 

“Sorry, I should’ve known better than to ask.” 

“What do we need to do?” Hermione asked Narcissa.  

“The spell has to have a secret keeper, someone who agrees to hold the knowledge of their location. Since I am the strongest occulmens, I will hold the secret and Lucius will cast the spell. We sent word to your parents in America that it is time. We spoke to them about the possibility of this happening months ago, and they agreed to the plan. They are currently back in the country in the process of settling their affairs in the muggle world. We will meet them in London in two days. Once the charm is in place we’ll move them to their new temporary home. We’ve decided that it would be safest to take them to a different continent…which means you won’t be able to see them or speak to them again until it’s safe.”

“In the name of safety, I can handle an extended time apart, especially if it means that they’ll remember me when it’s all over.” 

Narcissa nodded. 

“In the meantime, Severus has agreed to his own role.”

Hermione looked over to their professor, who wore the same somewhat bored expression that he always had. 

“I have informed the Headmaster of this change in events, and we both think it best if we make it appear as though the Order is responsible for your parent’s protection. It will infuriate the Dark Lord and allow for Lucius and Narcissa’s involvement to go unnoticed. I have already set the plans in motion for this to occur.”

“Thank you.” Hermione’s voice now wobbled and she blinked furiously to keep a new batch of tears from falling.

“I will never be able to repay you for this.”

Narcissa looked between Hermione and Draco with a small but knowing smile. 

“You repay us every day with the way that you love and protect our son. We will always extend to you that same kindness.” 

The girl took the steps needed to cross the room and fell into Narcissa’s motherly embrace. 

++++

Hermione passed through January in a haze. She hadn’t gotten the chance to truly say goodbye to her parents, all she’d had time for was a rushed letter sent with Narcissa, and an even more rushed response she received back two days later. 

Be safe, be smart, and come back to us. 

All our love, always,

Your parents 

She spent the weeks after that with the note tucked in her pocket, trying to process the fact that she was temporarily an orphan. However, the Malfoys did not see it that way. If anything, they saw this as an opportunity to fully incorporate her into their family. Narcissa spelled herself in as a line of communication in their journals, and she sent Hermione care messages daily. Lucius added her blood into the wards of Malfoy Manor, and although he’d deny it, Hermione knew that it was him who sent Poppy to Hogwarts with a box of her favorite sweets the week prior. But above all, Draco’s actions spoke the loudest. 

It was Valentine’s Day, and Hermione hoped that the Malfoy heir knew better than to try to surprise her after her birthday incident several months prior. She waited all morning to hear from him, but it was radio silence on all fronts. Finally, as she was walking from their last class to dinner with Ron and Harry, she felt the familiar vibration of her journal in her book bag. 

“I’ll catch up with you two later, I need to go ask Professor Vector a question about our last arithmancy assignment.” 

“Right now?” Harry questioned. “We’re nearly to the Great Hall. Why don’t you wait until after we’ve eaten?”

Hermione’s brain whirled to come up with an adequate excuse as to why she suddenly needed to be across the castle, but Ron beat her to it. 

“Oh come on, mate, you know how ‘Mione gets. Once the question is in her head she can’t rest until she has the answer. Just let her go. I’ll bring her dinner when I meet up with her in the library later.”

“The library? Why didn’t you tell me we were going there tonight?”

“Because you’re not going, you git, you’re taking my sister on a date. Or at least you better be unless you never want to hear the end of it. It’s Valentines Day.”

“Oh. Oh!” Harry’s cheeks tinged pink as he’d clearly forgotten about the holiday. “You’re right, Valentine’s Day. Okay, well, I should probably go find Ginny. See you two later!”

Harry took off at a quickened pace and Ron turned to grin at Hermione.

“You owe me.”

Hermione shook her head slightly, fighting the matching grin that threatened to take over her features.

“No, no, no. You did it out of the goodness of your heart, and for all the times I’ve saved your life.”

“Nah,” he lowered his voice, “You owe me. Firstly, because I have to continuously lie to my best friend, and secondly, because who knows how many other people I’m going to have to lie to tonight to cover for you. Now go, run along, have fun with your ferrety little Valentine.” 

He made a shooing motion and she gave him a rude hand gesture in return. He laughed.

“See you later, in the library!” Ron called out loud enough for others to hear. He winked at her, and then spun on his heels in direction of food. 

++++

I need to find Draco, I need a place where we can’t be found. 

Hermione repeated the thought in her mind as she walked past the now familiar painting three times. The door that appeared to allow her into the room looked different than normal, this one was older, with worn wood paneling and a brass knocker. She opened it somewhat cautiously and gasped at what was inside.

Their typical room, which looked vaguely reminiscent of the library in Malfoy Manor, had been replaced. The once stately room was now expanded into a warm cabin. Its wooden walls, crafted from ancient timbers, exuded a welcoming warmth that contrasted beautifully with the crisp, snowy landscape outside. Large magically enchanted windows let in breathtaking views of the majestic French Alps, their peaks dusted with snow and glowing in the soft light of dusk.

Inside, the cabin was a haven of comfort and coziness. A crackling fireplace casted a golden glow across the room, where plush armchairs and thick woolen blankets invited her to settle in. The scent of pine and cedar filled the air, mingling with the faint aroma of freshly baked bread from the kitchen.

The cabin's decor was a mixture of handcrafted wooden furniture, adorned with intricate carvings. The open-plan living area flowed seamlessly into the kitchen, there sat a small dining table, lit with candles and covered with plates of delicious food.

Hermione hadn’t thought she would ever see this place again.

“Draco,” she breathed, “is this…”

“Yes,” he smiled, standing from the nearest arm chair and walking forward to meet her at the door. “This is the cabin we stayed in over Christmas last year with your parents. Well, some of Christmas, anyway.” 

Her eyes brimmed with tears as she turned to look at her boyfriend more fully. 

“How did you do this?”

“I’ve been working on it for a long time.” 

“Define ‘a long time’.”

He gave her a sheepish smile. 

“I started working on it a few weeks after we got back.”

“A year ago?! You’ve been planning our Valentine’s date for a year?”

His smile went a bit crooked.

“Come, sit, I had Poppy prepare all your favorites from back home.” 

He rarely avoided her questions, but Hermione let it drop, following him to the table to eat. Their dinner was lovely, as always, and Draco attended to any need she could have imagined. But something still felt…off. Draco tried to hide it, but he was anxious about something. At one point as he poured her a glass of elf wine his hand was even trembling. She let his antics go on for as long as she could, but as the night moved forward and he still hadn’t said anything, she couldn’t contain herself any longer.

“Draco, what is going on?”

His hand stilled on the chess piece that he was moving in the midst of their match.

“What do you mean, Love? Is something wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong with me, no,” she sat back and folded her arms, giving him her best Narcissa impression.

“But something is clearly going on with you. You’ve been a nervous wreck all night! Just tell me. If it’s bad, I can handle it. I don’t bloody well care if it’s a holiday.”

Draco stared at her for a moment, and then let out a strained laugh. Hermione, alarmed by the reaction, sat forward and grabbed his hand. 

“Please, tell me.”

“I promise you, nothing is wrong. It is exactly the opposite.”

“Then why have you been so nervous? And why are you laughing?”

He took a deep breath, and then met his gaze with hers. The adoration that Hermione saw in his eyes nearly staggered her backwards into her seat. Without taking his eyes off of hers, he reached his free hand into his pants pocket, producing a small velvet box. 

“Hermione, you are my soulmate and the love of my life,” his voice came out more confident than it had been all evening. “I’ve known it since we were 11 years old, since before I really even knew what love felt like. At first, I was willing to take any part of you that I could get. Longing glances and antagonizing you in class became friendship, and then friendship became more. And don’t get me wrong, I am immensely grateful for any piece of yourself that you have given me. But I also know that I’m selfish. I used to think I could accept just parts of you, but I can’t. I want all of you, desperately, forever, and I want you to someday be my wife.”

“Draco,” Hermione whispered, but he pushed on. 

“I know that we’re young, and obviously we aren’t going to get married while we’re still in school, but I cannot see my future without you in it. So I want to make you a promise, that no matter what we are to face in this coming war, the end game will be you and me, always.” 

Draco opened the box with a flick of his thumb and index finger and Hermione’s breath stuck in her lungs. Nestled into the box sat the most beautiful ring she’d ever seen in her life. A woven golden band with an intricate pattern of diamonds and emeralds that casted glittering sparkles every way that the light hit it. 

“I know you say you’re a lion, but I think there’s a snake in you yet,” he spoke softly. “We can always change the gems if you’d prefer something red—“

“I love it.” Hermione cut him off, her watering eyes darting to his. He let out another shaky breath.

“The first time I saw you in this cabin in France I could see my whole future ahead of me. I saw me and you, going back year after year. I could see us bringing your parents, my parents, even our future children. I saw you drinking your coffee in the morning light, even though I find the beverage deplorable.” She snorted. 

“Above all, this cabin gave me a glimpse of our forever. I came back to the castle and immediately started working on recreating it within our room, because I knew I’d need it. And that month where we didn’t speak last year I worked on it nearly incessantly, it was about the only thing that kept me sane.”

Hermione could barely keep her tears at bay.

“I was going to wait to do this, but after what happened last month, I decided that there’s no time like the present. I know that you feel alone, like you have no family left, but that’s not true. You’re my family, Hermione, and I never want you to doubt that. I left school grounds without permission and went to meet your parents on their last day in London. I asked them for permission to marry you someday, and although they were wary of us being teenagers, they gave it to me anyway. Your father told me to give you this.”

From another pocket, Draco produced a nearly folded note and handed it to her. 

My dearest Hermione, 

From the day you were born, I have watched you grow into the incredible woman you are today—kind, strong, and brave.

I want you to know how deeply I love you. You have brought so much happiness into my life, and it has been an honor to see you blossom and find your own path, even if it is in a world that is not my own. Your happiness is paramount to me, and I have always wanted the very best for you.

Although you are young, you’ve always been an old soul, so I’ve been expecting this kind of question from Draco for quite some time. Long enough, in fact, that I’ve had this letter ready for months. (You didn’t get your knack for preparedness from your mother.) After seeing the love and respect he has for you, and knowing how happy he makes you, I always knew I would give Draco my blessing wholeheartedly. I believe he will be a wonderful partner for you, and together, you will build a beautiful life.

As you embark on this journey, remember that your mother and I’s love and support are always with you. We are so proud of the person you have become, and we are excited to see the wonderful future that lies ahead for you both.

With all my love,

Dad

Hermione let out a choked sob. 

“Love!” Draco sounded a bit panicky. “Please don’t cry, you know I hate when you cry.”

“Well I can’t bloody well help it when you’re this romantic now can I?” She hiccuped and his panic eased into a gentle smile. He rose from his seat kneeled before her.

“Some day, when this war is over, I will get down on one knee in front of all of wizarding England to ask you to marry me. There won’t be anymore secrets, and we won’t have to hide, and I will shout from the rooftops of Diagon Alley about how much I love you. So until then, do you accept this ring from me as a promise of our future, and an official symbol of our betrothal?”

She nodded profusely, and then croaked through her tears of happiness.

“Yes, of course. I love you, I always will.” 

The wizard plucked the ring out of the box and slid it onto her outstretched finger. Then he leaned forward her and molded his lips to hers. Kisses that began as sweet quickly turned to frantic. 

“We have to stop,” he groaned as she twisted her fingers through strands of platinum hair on the base of his neck.

“I don’t want to stop,” she murmured into the small breadth of space between their mouths. He pulled away slightly to look down at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Did you recreate the whole cabin, bedrooms too?”

His brows raised in surprise.

“Hermione, that’s not why I did this.”

“So you’re saying you don’t want to?” She replied cheekily and smirked at the blush rising on his cheeks. 

“No! I’m not saying that. I just—I don’t want you to think that was an expectation.”

“Draco, I know your intentions were good…” she trailed off, letting her hand brush across his shoulder and then down his chest.

“But maybe that’s irrelevant.” 

She grinned at him.

“I want to do this, right now, with you. We don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow and I don’t want to wait any longer. Besides, you’re bloody fit. I’ve been telling you that for years.”

Draco coughed out a surprised laugh, and then wrapped one arm around her midsection and another around her legs, sweeping her into a bridal style position. Hermione giggled and he smiled down at her. 

“No time like the present, right?”

+++

 

It was many hours later when Draco finally walked Hermione back to Gryffindor tower. The pair would’ve looked like lovesick fools to anyone who watched them meander the hallways, luckily, there was no one around. They were near the portrait of the Fat Lady, and Draco had pulled Hermione in for a final goodnight kiss. They were fully wrapped in an embrace when the door behind the portrait unexpectedly flew open, and a gangly boy lumbered out. The pair jumped apart and Hermione looked up, panicked. 

“Neville!” 

Neville looked at Hermione with a tilt of his head, and then he let out a pitiful wail.

“You’re not Romilda!” 

“I—what?” 

“You’re not Romilda! He promised that she’d be out here, but it’s you!” 

“Who promised?”

“That would be me.” Ron stepped out and shut the common room door behind him. 

“Thank Merlin you’re back. I need your help. Neville thought it was smart to eat a box of unlabeled chocolates left outside our dorm room. Turns out they were tainted with a love potion.”

“Let me guess, Romilda Vane?” Hermione asked and Ron’s face scrunched in disgust.

“Yes. I reckon she left them for Harry, some weird ‘chosen one’ obsession. But Harry’s been gone all evening, Ginny too, and our boy Nev here just couldn’t resist himself.” 

“Will you take me to see Romilda?” Neville blinked his unfocused brown eyes at Draco, who had remained silent in the interaction so far. 

“Me?” 

“Yes, you. Your shiny hair can act like a beacon. Draw her in. Oh Romilda, I’ll find you, my love!”

Draco looked passed the boy to Hermione, half alarmed and half amused.

“He’s in a right state. I’ve never seen a love potion do something like this before. I think Vane may have overdosed the candies.”

“That’s unsurprising considering her shoddy work as my potions partner third year,” Hermione groaned while Ron laughed. 

“You’re right, I forgot about that. When she made your cauldron explode you had flecks of green potion goo in your hair for weeks.” 

“Yes, thank you, Ron, but now is not the time to go down memory lane.”

Draco, who was trying but failing to hide his smirk, chimed in. 

“He needs the antidote, we can take him to Professor Snape.” 

“I don’t want to go to the dungeons, I want to see Romilda!” Neville joined back into the conversation. 

“Romilda is with Professor Snape, Nev,” Hermione said patiently. “We were just coming to walk you to her. Isn’t that right, Ron?”

“Yeah, totally mate. I was trying to tell you that before we came out here.” 

“Well in that case!” Nev looped one arm through Hermione’s and the other through Draco’s. 

“Onward to my love!” 

Draco rolled his lips together to suppress a laugh. 

“Have fun!” Ron chortled.

“You’re not coming?” Hermione asked.

“No, yet again I am staying back for damage control. Someone has to be here to talk to Harry and Ginny. Don’t get caught!”

“We’re pretty good at that, Weasley,” Draco drawled, attempting to wiggle his arm out of Neville’s. The boy just squeezed him in tighter.

“Oh really, Malfoy?” Ron smirked. “Because last I checked, I figured it out on my own.” 

“Alright let’s go!” Hermione cut off the standoff between the boys. She was fairly confident that Neville wouldn’t remember any of this after taking the antidote, but she couldn’t be sure, and the less he heard the better. 

++++

Snape welcomed the students into his office with a neutral, if not slightly curious, expression. 

“And to what do I owe the pleasure of this interesting group, out past curfew, on a school night, no less?”

“I’m here to see Romilda!” Neville grinned at his professor, which forced a brief flash of surprise to cross his features. He glanced away to his godson.

“Love potion?”

“Yes sir, apparently a rather powerful one that was meant for Potter and landed with Longbottom instead.” 

Snape shook his head with a sigh. 

“Very well. Have a seat. Luckily I have some antidote in the personal stores of my living quarters.”

Severus left through an open doorway, leaving the three teens.

“Come on Neville,” Hermione urged, tugging him downward to a chair. “Romilda is in the back, he’s going to grab her.” 

“No! I will not rest until I see her!” Neville announced in a boisterous tone. He leapt out of Hermione’s grasp and strode forward towards their Professor’s grading desk. On it, a bottle of red wine sat. Neville swept the bottle up and pulled off the cork with a flourish. 

“To Romilda!”

He thrusted the bottle upwards in a cheering motion and then tilted it backwards into his mouth.

“Dear Salazar he’s lost it,” Draco muttered in shock. Hermione looked at her friend as though she’d never seen him before. Neville smiled broadly at her for a moment, and then his eyes widened. The bottle slipped from his fingers and crashed to the floor, his limp body followed suit. 

“Neville?!” Hermione cried, racing forward to the boy who was now convulsing in front of her. 

“What’s going on!”

“Severus!” Draco yelled, also moving towards the downed student. Neville’s eyes were rolled back into his head and he began to foam at the mouth. His body continued to shake in violent tremors. Draco gripped his wand tightly and muttered cushioning spells around Neville to avoid any potential injuries. Snape came running out of his personal quarters, antidote totally forgotten. He yanked open the top drawer of his grading desk and pulled out a strange looking stone, which he promptly shoved into Neville’s mouth. Ten seconds past, then twenty. At last, the tremors stopped. 

“A bezoar,” Draco breathed heavily, slumping down beside an unconscious but breathing Neville. 

“Brilliant.” 

“Contenio iterum.”

Hermione waved her wand over the spilled puddle of wine, causing the liquid to rise up and pour itself back into the now repaired glass bottle. She shoved the cork on rather forcefully and the hefted it into her professor’s hands. 

“Take this. Maybe it will help Madam Pomfrey treat him.” 

“I just don’t get it,” Draco said shakily. “What happened? Love potions can’t be mixed with alcohol?” 

“There are no known interactions between the two substances,” Snape intoned. “My suspicion is that the wine was poisoned.”

“What were you doing with a bottle of poisoned wine on your desk, Uncle? Even you have to admit that seems a bit unsafe in a school full of children.”

“It wasn’t mine, Draco,” his godfather rolled his eyes. “My seventh year prefect was on rounds tonight, he nicked it from a student several hours ago and brought it to me. It was rather strange, he said that the student who was carrying it couldn’t have been older than a second year, and a Hufflepuff at that. When the prefect told them that students weren’t allowed to have alcohol on the premises, the girl refused to give it up. She was adamant that the bottle needed to be delivered to the headmaster for Valentines Day.” 

Draco and Hermione shared a look that Severus was quick to pick up on.

“Oh just out with it already.”

“Do you think the girl could’ve been imperiused?” 

“…I’ve considered the possibility.”

“And do you have a specific way you’re leaning on said possibility?”

Snape arched a brow at the two of them.

“What are you two, or should I say you four, up to?”

Neither student had the chance to respond, as Neville let out a low groan from the floor beside them. With a silent wave of his hand, Severus had the boy’s body levitating towards the door. 

“I need to take him to the infirmary. Miss Granger, you may come with me. Draco, go back to your room.” 

“What! Why?”

“Because you should’ve been back in your dorm room hours ago and you’re lucky that I’m not docking points for it. You’re not a Gryffindor, she is. I need an explanation of how he was brought to me. Now go.”

Draco grumbled but otherwise did not argue. Severus was nearly out the door, Hermione by his side, before he addressed them again.

“I don’t know what you’re planning to do, or who you think is responsible, but I urge you to listen very closely. You are not children anymore, and the war is coming. Play to each other’s strengths, lean on one another. The enemy is powerful and you are strongest together.” 

“You’re not going to try to talk us out of it?”

Severus assessed his godson evenly.

“Talk you out of what? As far as I’m concerned, this conversation never happened.”

He nodded Hermione forward towards the infirmary, leaving Draco to a stretching silence. 

Chapter 56

The impending spring did not thaw the icy distrust that seeped into Hogwarts halls in the weeks after Neville’s poisoning. He made a full recovery, Katie too, but that didn’t much seem to matter. The threat lingered in the shadowy corners of student minds.

Houses were keeping even more to themselves than usual, especially the naturally wary Slytherins. Any leads that Draco and Theo followed trying to find the perpetrator were dead ends. No one wanted to talk about it, and each day that went on without an offender being named continued to eat away at the perceived feeling of safety each student felt. If Hogwarts wasn’t safe, no where was.

On top of it all, Hermione found herself increasingly worried about Harry. He was spending a lot time away, most likely in Dumbledore’s office, and he was being surprisingly tight lipped about whatever it was that he was learning there.

Fortunately, the other third of their trio appeared to be handling the current situation better than expected. Ron had finally, finally, made a move on Lavender, and the couple appeared to be quite happy. Maybe he was just too busy snogging in forgotten classrooms to pay attention to the lies and secrets around him, but Hermione didn’t blame him. He deserved something good in his life. She also thought that a distraction may do her some good as well.

Hermione busied herself by helping her fellow Gryffindor’s with their studies. The quest to find out who was poisoning students was failing, but she refused to be helpless. Maybe if she assisted her classmates in their learning and skills, it would be able to save them from what was to come. The logical side of her brain knew that war brought casualties, but she refused to accept that fact. She could try to save her friends, all of them, and she would, even if it killed her in the process.

Sticking to their plan, she hadn’t seen much of Draco or Theo, which currently worked to her advantage. The less they saw of her, the less opportunity they had to call her out on running herself ragged. Ginny, on the other hand, was a different story.

“Hermione Jean!” Ginny‘s furious whisper did little to distract Hermione from the lesson she was currently teaching to Dean and Seamus in the common room, but the youngest Weasley was not one to take well to being ignored. After a minute without Hermione’s acknowledgment, Ginny marched forward and snatched the book she was pointing at from off the table.

“You two, gone, now. It’s Friday night, lessons are over.”

Dean’s eyes widened at the seething red head now towering over his seat.

“Well thanks Hermione, I think we’ve got most of it down. We’ll ask you any questions tomorrow. G’night!”

Dean grabbed the back of Seamus’s robes and tugged him upwards, both boys retreating hastily up their staircase. Once they were gone, Ginny turned back to her friend with a disapproving look.

“You are working yourself to the bone. You need to stop.”

“I’m fine.”

“Had it not been for my intervention, you would’ve fallen asleep into the mashers at dinner tonight. You. Are. Not. Fine.”

“Ginny, I promise you, I’m—“ her sentence was cut off by a wide yawn that escaped her mouth.

“Yeah, as I said, not fine. Let’s go.” Ginny tugged Hermione up from her chair and she glanced around the nearly empty common room. Her steps faltered when she realized that the girl was not leading them towards the staircase, but instead towards the exit.

“Ginny where are we going? It’s almost curfew.”

“To the infirmary, Madam Pomfrey will take one look at you and know that you need a vial of dreamless sleep for the night and a lay in tomorrow morning. Finals stress is a diagnosable condition in this castle.”

“This is so unnecessary.”

Hermione’s whines were to no avail. Ginny just pulled her hand harder along the hallway.

“You won’t sleep willingly, so you’ll sleep magically. No ifs, ands, or buts, about it.”

+++

The girls made it to the infirmary, and a grumbling Hermione was handed a vial of potion with strict instructions to take it before bed. She tried to argue further, but Madam Pomfrey threatened her with an overnight stay, so she finally gave in.

“I know you’re mad at me, but I only have your best interests at heart,” Ginny spoke in a singsong voice to Hermione on their way down the lonely hallway back to Gryffindor Tower.

The two witches walked side by side, hall passes from the mediwitch at the ready incase they stumbled upon Filch or Mrs. Norris.

“I already have a mum, Gin, I don’t need two.”

“Oh come now, what would your wizard say if he found out I let his precious Hermione wither away and die from stress? He’d never forgive me.”

“I wasn’t going to die.”

“Please. If you so much as caught the flu he would blame it entirely on me. He’s a protective one, your Draco.”

“Draco?” A third voice interjected suddenly. Hermione and Ginny spun around to face an unexpected floating head, the only thing that wasn’t covered by an invisibility cloak.

“Harry,” Hermione breathed as the blood drained from her face. “What are you doing here? It’s past curfew.”

“Your Draco? As in Draco Malfoy? Tell me she’s joking, Hermione.” Harry ripped the cloak from his body letting it pool on the ground at his feet. He stood before her with hands clenched and eyes wide.

“Harry, I—“

“Hermione,” his voice cracked, “just tell me it’s not true.”

Should she try to lie her way out of it? She knew, realistically, that her time to keep Draco and Theo a secret was growing shorter by the day. She’d envisioned Harry finding out in a hundred different ways, but this particular scenario had evaded her meticulous planning. Hermione inhaled sharply, then her Gryffindor bravery won out.

“I can’t. It is true, Harry. I am with Draco Malfoy. I am in love with him.”

The choking noise that Harry made was something between a gasp and a growl.

“But—but he’s a monster, Hermione. A death eater! How could you do this?”

“There is so much you don’t know, Harry, if you’d just let me explain—“

“No!”

Harry’s eyes bounced frantically between Hermione and Ginny.

“I—I can’t trust you. Either of you. Why should I listen to anything you have to say? You’re in love with a fucking death eater.”

“He is not a death eater,” Hermione snapped back at him, but with another breath her voice returned to pleading. She needed to at least try to get him to understand before he ran off and did something drastic.

“Come on, let’s go back to the tower and talk about this.”

“No! I’m not going anywhere. With either of you. Traitors.”

Harry nearly spit the last word before he plucked the cloak up from the ground and wrapped it around his body. With the silencing spell on his shoes still intact, he’d become invisible.

Hermione and Ginny stared at the spot he disappeared for several minutes, neither sure of what to say. At last, Ginny broke the silence.

“What do we do now?”

“We try to find him before he goes and does what Harry always does.”

“…Which is?”

“Cause chaos. Complete and utter chaos.”

+++

“Hermione, this is pointless,” Ginny panted as they ran down yet another empty hallway.

“We’ve checked the kitchens, the Room of Requirement, and the library, and he is no where to be found. He has the cloak and the map, if he doesn’t want us to find him we aren’t going to, and at this rate all we’re going to do is get ourselves caught.”

Hermione let out a heaving breath and slowed her pace, Ginny followed suit.

“I know you’re right Gin, I just…Harry tends to do reckless things when he gets emotional.”

“Well even if he does, I don’t know how we’d stop it. I think we need to head back to the tower and wait for him in the common room. Immobilize him and force him to let us explain ourselves if we must.”

“You’re right, let’s go.”

Hermione turned to walk back in the direction they’d come, but Ginny tugged on her hand to stop.

“Can’t go that way, remember? The staircases move in opposite directions after curfew. We’ll have to cross over and walk through the second floor.”

The Gryffindor grimaced, knowing full well that Ginny was correct but also knowing their new path was twice as long. Ginny’s face twisted into a wry grin watching her friend process the information.

“It’s not all bad, Mione. The good news is that even Peeves doesn’t like hovering about Myrtle’s bathroom, so we shouldn’t be bothered.”

+++

At first, Hermione couldn’t describe the feeling that built in her body as they made their way down the stairs, but when the girls neared the second floor corridor she was able to put a name to the sensation—tugging. Something was tugging in Hermione’s chest, nearly forcing her body forward at a pace faster than she’d set for herself.

“Ginny, something is wrong.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t—I don’t know. I can’t really explain it but I think it has to do with Draco.”

Ginny blinked at her.

“Right…well, I’m not really one to question soul magic, so if you say something is wrong then it’s wrong. Can you…pinpoint the problem?”

“What?”

“I dunno, can you focus your magic and channel it to his? This is a big castle ‘Mione, so unless there’s a sign from Merlin himself, your ‘feeling’ isn’t much to go off of.”

“Hermione Granger!”

Hermione startled at the sudden appearance of a ghost floating above her.

“Myrtle? What are you doing outside of the bathroom?”

“Myrtle…Merlin…same thing,” Ginny muttered under her breath beside her, but the ghost continued on unfazed.

“You must come with me! He sent me to get you, there’s not much time! You must help him!”

Hermione’s stomach dropped at the apparition’s words. She did not need confirmation to know the he that she was referring to. Hermione and Ginny ran down the remainder of the corridor and burst into the girls lavatory. Two wizards were before them, but only one standing. Harry stood near the door, wand drawn and green eyes wide in panic. Beneath him on the floor in front of the sinks lay Draco stretched across the tiles. The pressure in Hermione’s chest grew tighter.

Draco’s blood was everywhere. Seeping from the slashes she now saw carved in his chest, creating a pool of red surrounding him, drowning him.

“Shit!” Ginny bounded forward on the slippery lavatory floor, muttering spell after spell.

“Nothing is working, why are these not working?! We need the counter curse.”

“I didn’t,” Harry kept muttering the phrase uselessly, his wand gripped tightly in his shaking hand.

“Harry, what the fuck did you do to him?!” Ginny hissed, and he flinched as though she slapped him.

“I didn’t—“

“Get out of here! You’ve done enough!”

“I—“

“OUT!” She snarled.

He nodded once before backing away. His eyes flashed to Hermione before he swept through the door.

Behind Ginny, Hermione stood frozen. She wanted to help but she remained completely immobile due to her fear and panic. Draco, her Draco, was bleeding out in front of her. As he bled, it felt like the world was losing color, like life itself was oozing out around her.

“Hermione, we need help,” Ginny cried to her. When the redhead recognized the shell shocked gaze of her best friend, she stood up suddenly and dragged her to Draco.

“Stay here with him, I need to find someone.”

“Severus,” Hermione finally mumbled.

“We need Severus.”

Nodding, Ginny conjured her patronus.

“Professor, we need you in the second floor girls lavatory. It’s an emergency. Hurry.”

Once her silvery horse galloped through the wall and disappeared from sight, the red head’s eyes shot to her friend.

“I’m going to meet him on his way.”

Ginny took off at a sprint out of the bathroom and Hermione’s gaze turned down to look at her love.

“Draco,” she choked out at last. With her floodgates finally open, Hermione began to sob.

+++

Draco was bleeding profusely, the pain nearly blinding him, but he grasped for her hands anyway.

“Just a scratch,” he groaned out, “don’t cry, love.”

Through her hysteria Hermione choked out a wet laugh.

“I love you, you prat,” she weeped. “Stay awake, they’re coming to help, please stay awake.”

“And I love you,” he whispered. The blood loss was making it hard to speak, hard to focus, like everything outside of him was becoming a whirl of colors and sensations. Through the confusion, he could still pinpoint her voice. He figured he would always be able to find her, even now at the end.

“Hermione, I don’t regret anything.”

He had to concentrate all of his efforts to utter the sentence.

“I would do it all again if it meant that I could have you.”

Had he been able to see, he would’ve seen her eyes widen in alarm.

“Draco, that sounds like goodbye. This isn’t a goodbye, you’re going to live. You’re going to be fine!”

“I love you, so much,” he garbled, “you’re everything.”

“I love you.” Her tears slipping down both cheeks, falling until they mixed with the blood on the floor.

Draco’s eyes closed.

“Draco!”

A new voice cut through the mania.

Professor Snape ran to him, dropping to his knees with his wand forward. He uttered the counter curse again and again, moving his wand over his chest until new skin weaved itself over the entirety of the wound. Draco’s eyes remained closed, but he kept breathing, his chest rose and fell in labored motions, littered with fresh pink scars that looked as though he’d been ripped open with claws.

“He needs the infirmary, now.”

Ginny whispered a featherweight charm on the blonde boy in front of her, and Snape nodded in thanks, gathering him up into his arms.

“Is he going to be alright?” Ginny’s voice wavered.

“Yes.”

Hermione had never heard her professor sound so unkept.

“He needs a few vials of blood replenishing potion, among other things, but he—he should be fine. I’m familiar with the effects of the spell. He got the countercurse in time.”

The girls let out matching breaths of relief, clinging on to one another for the strength to remain standing.

“You two need to get cleaned up. You can meet me in the hospital wing in the morning.”

“No,” Hermione argued, “I need to go with him.”

She couldn’t bear to watch Draco get carried away, too afraid that if he left her sight he might disappear entirely.

“Miss Granger—“

“No!”

“Hermione,” Snape’s tone became stern, he never used her first name. “You look like you’ve been through a war and it’s the middle of the night. What would the rest of the school think if you went traipsing through these halls covered in blood on a Saturday morning? There would be talk, too much of it, and we can’t risk that.”

His eyes turned to Ginny.

“Miss Weasley, please escort your friend to the dormitories and help her get cleaned up. I will see both of you, in presentable fashion, in the morning.”

His voice left no room for argument, and the girls conceded with a sigh.

“What about Theo?” Ginny’s question made her professor arch an eyebrow, but he replied evenly.

“I will inform Mr. Nott and you can meet him in the infirmary as well.”

“Thank you,” Hermione whispered before they turned to leave.

“You saved him.”

“Because you found him,” he responded. “Now go.”

The girls left, and he quickly marched his godson up the steps and into Madam Pomfrey’s care.

++++

Severus had spent his entire life learning to mask his emotions. Feelings were a weapon, and he would not let someone wield them against him. Not Voldemort, not Dumbledore, no one. Yet, as he replayed the events from the evening, he couldn’t help but recognize how feelings could save someone, too. It was Ginny’s bravery, Hermione’s love, even Draco’s stubbornness, that may have saved him in the end.

It was at times like this, when he felt his weakest, when he thought of Regulus. He wondered if he had just been able to show him how he felt, if he could’ve admitted to the power of love instead of cower in the fear of it, then perhaps he could’ve saved him. He thought of James, who he had hated so blindly, not only because he stole Lily’s time, but more importantly because what he had with her was something Severus never achieved for himself. James loved Lily so much that he was willing to make a fool of himself for years to get her. He turned away from generations of traditions and rules to keep her, and then eventually he sacrificed his own life for her. James Potter wore his heart on his sleeve, he gave everything, and he truly deserved her; that was what Severus hated the most. Because at the core of it, Severus didn’t hate James Potter, he hated himself. It was his own instincts of self-preservation that ruined him in the end. Regulus died never truly knowing the depths of Severus’s love for him, because he had prioritized his own integrity over his emotions. He made his choices, and they were the wrong ones. No amount of regret could bring someone back from the dead.

The longer he sat and thought of his past, the more it blended into his present. In his mind, Lily’s red hair morphed into the brown curls of the girl covered in blood. Hermione had always reminded him of her, from the second she raised her hand that first day in potions. Brave, intelligent, desperate to prove herself. He then thought of his godson, reserved but full of dedication, willing to do anything, risk anyone, to save the girl he loved. He saw Regulus in those grey eyes. Severus shook his head slightly, and then steeled his shoulders with resolve. He couldn’t change the past, couldn’t save all those that he had lost, but he could influence the future. He would save these two, regardless of the cost. This time, his fear wouldn’t hold him back.

Chapter 57

It took two scourgify spells and two showers to get the blood off of Ginny, even more to clean Hermione. Ginny showered alone, with Hermione sitting outside along the stall. When she was clean, the redhead took Hermione to the prefects bathroom to help wash the blood out of her hair. The girl was still in such a state of shock that she entered the tub robes and all. Ginny sat beside her at the edge of the basin, working her fingers through Hermione’s matted curls, again and again, until the water ran from red to pink to clear.

It was silent for a long time, only broken by sound of the faucet and Ginny’s gentle humming.

“Thank you,” Hermione breathed out quietly. Ginny’s fingers stilled.

“He’s alive because of you.”

“He’s alive because of us,” Ginny corrected.

“I never would’ve known to get Snape if it wasn’t for you.”

“I didn’t do anything, I could barely even move.” The weakness in Hermione’s voice cracked Ginny’s heart.

“Hermione, it’s okay, what matters is that he’s going to be fine.”

“You’re right,” she breathed out shakily, “you’re right.”

Once the pair was ready to leave, they looked at one another in the reflection of the mirror. Most of the blood was gone, but the emotional backlash of the day was pressing in around them. Hermione turned into Ginny’s arms, holding back her tears.

“Shhhh, just let it out ‘Mione,” Ginny soothed. “If you cry now it might be easier when you see him.”

“I’m sorry,” Hermione wheezed, “I’m so sorry that I got you involved with all this.”

“Oh stop that,” Ginny tutted at her.

“I’m your friend, I was getting involved whether or not you wanted me to be.”

“But Harry…” Hermione faded out and Ginny’s arms stiffened around her, just for a moment.

“Harry will be fine,” she replied curtly. “Quite honestly, I’m so angry with him that I think it’s best for his own safety that we have some time apart.”

“But you love him,” Hermione croaked.

“I also love you, and Draco, even though he’s a pretentious idiot sometimes. You’re my friends. I’m not going to sit back and let one of my friends die, even if my…Harry, was the culprit.”

They held one another for a few minutes longer before pulling apart, both wiping at their eyes.

“Come on,” Hermione said, “it’s nearly morning. We should try to rest for a few hours at least.”

+++

At the first signs of morning light, Ginny and Hermione made their way to the infirmary.

The pair walked briskly through the halls and through the main doors, ignoring the protests of Madam Pomfrey. They walked, past the general stay area and into the privacy unit. Like the night before, Hermione let her magic guide her to the area where she knew Draco would be. She peeled back the curtain and slipped into the space, Ginny following close behind her.

Before them, Draco lay sleeping in a hospital bed. He was still covered in blood, and an impressive bandage was wrapped across the entirety of his chest. Beside him, Theo and Professor Snape sat in two chairs, their heads turned to the sound of the new arrivals.

“Hi.”

Theo was out of his chair and barreling into Ginny’s arms before she could choke out another word.

“You saved his life,” he repeated like a mantra into her shoulder.

Hermione rushed to Draco’s side, clutching his hand tightly. Beneath the splatters of dried blood, his skin was pale, too pale, but it was warm. He was alive.

“Draco,” she whispered. “It’s okay, I’m here, you’re going to be okay.”

“Madam Pomfrey said that he is expected to make a full recovery, Miss Granger,” Severus spoke from beside her.

“He was awake for a bit, but his pain was becoming unbearable so he was put on a sleeping draught last night.”

Hermione nodded, blinking rapidly to prevent a fresh wave of tears.

“Now that you’ve all arrived, if you would excuse me, I still have matters of discipline to attend to.”

“Please don’t expel Harry,” Hermione whipped her head towards her professor, pleading.

“I know this is bad, I know it, but he has no where else to go.”

“Rest assured, Miss Granger, that against my better wishes Mr. Potter will remain at this school. Draco made me all but promise him that when I dropped him off here. It’s about the only thing he would say before we sedated him.”

“Draco,” Hermione whispered the name like a prayer and Snape’s tone softened.

“Well, I must be off.” He turned to look at Ginny and Theo, still hugging.

“I will grant the three of you permission to stay here until breakfast, and again during visiting hours this evening. Same goes for tomorrow. But I expect all of you to be in your dormitories by curfew each night, and in class on Monday, no exceptions. You cannot arouse suspicions with this, even you, Nott. As far as the rest of the school knows, there has been a death in the extended Malfoy family and Draco has taken a brief leave from school to attend the funeral. Do you understand?”

“Yes professor.”

Satisfied with the murmured response from the group, he left with a swish of his cloak.

“I owe you a perpetual favor, G,” Theo croaked. “Anything you want, for the rest of your life. Consider me your humble servant.”

“Theo, shut up,” Ginny said with a roll of her eyes. It only made him hug her harder. Finally he stepped out of their embrace and tugged Hermione up by her free hand.

“You too, my darling Granger, life of servitude up for grabs.”

“You know my thoughts on unpaid labor, Theo.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Now can someone tell me what in the bloody hell happened? All I got from Severus was that Draco was hit with a curse and that if it wasn’t for you two’s quick actions he would’ve bled out.”

“Is that all that Draco said, too?” Hermione asked.

“Draco was asleep when I got here. It was nearly 3am before I finally had the gall to leave my dorm room and go searching for him, but Severus met me in the common room before I had the chance to leave. I’ve only been here a few hours.”

“Harry found out about Hermione and Draco,” Ginny whispered. “He overheard us talking in the hallway last night after curfew using his invisibility cloak. Hermione tried to reason with him but he ran off. We traipsed around the castle trying to find him with no luck. We were walking back to the dorms when Moaning Myrtle came rushing out of the bathroom to tell us that we needed to help. When we got in there it had already happened.” Ginny shuddered involuntarily.

“We don’t know what happened between the two of them, but…there was so much blood, Theo.”

He walked closer to her and gripped her hand supportively.

“I tried to stop it. I tried everything but he just kept bleeding.”

“Ginny went to get Professor Snape, and thank Merlin he knew the countercurse,” Hermione spoke quietly. “He told us to get cleaned up and meet him here in the morning, and that’s all we know.”

“What the hell did Draco say to make Harry do this?” Theo wondered aloud.

“I don’t know,” Ginny whispered, staring at her shoes. “I know that finding out about Hermione and Draco would be a shock, but he didn’t even give us a chance to explain anything. Harry’s been known to blow his temper, but never like this.”

“Has he ever hurt you, Ginny?” Theo’s voice took an interestingly low tone.

“No,” she shook her head, “Nothing like that. This is Harry we’re talking about. He’s just upset easily and doesn’t know how to handle it. He still feels guilty about Tonks’s death, and he puts all this pressure on himself. Like everything that goes wrong is his fault. On top of that, Hermione is one of his best friends, and he thinks Draco is evil.”

“We should probably leave him to rest,” Hermione stated weakly, “but I don’t want him to wake up alone.”

“Based on how strong sleeping draught is, I figure he won’t be conscious again until tonight,” Theo answered. “Maybe we could leave him a note?”

Hermione held out her wand.

“Accio parchment and quill.”

Her requested supplies came floating towards her a moment later, and she scribbled a message.

“Do either of you want to add anything?”

“Nothing he wouldn’t hit me for once he’s out of here,” Theo admitted with a sheepish grin.

“Just let it be from you, ‘Mione,” Ginny agreed.

Hermione folded the paper once and placed it on his bedside table. The trio turned to leave.

Draco,

Never scare me like that again. I can’t, won’t, imagine a world without you. It’s not a life worth living. I’ll be back to see you tonight. Please try to rest, I know how hard that will be for you, considering your propensity to keep moving. Sit still anyway. 

All my love,

Hermione

+++

The trio made it as far as the Great Hall before Ginny slowed to a halt. It was still early for a Saturday morning, and there were few students around.

“I think I’m going to go for a bit of flying,” she announced rather suddenly.

Hermione raised an eyebrow in question.

“What? It’s snowing. No one in their right mind would be going out there.”

“I just—I can’t go into that hall and risk seeing him, Hermione,” Ginny admitted. “I want to hex that scar right off of his face at the moment.”

“I’ll come flying with you,” Theo offered. Hermione turned to look at him, the same question lingering in her eyes, and he shrugged.

“The room will be too quiet without Draco in there, and the common room will ask where he’s gone. I think we both need a distraction. And you’re right, no ones going to be out there to see us together.”

“Do you want to come, ‘Mione?”

The brunette scrunched her nose at her friend.

“No, thanks, but I think I’m just going to head back to Gryffindor Tower.”

She glanced up at a clock on the wall.

“Let’s meet back up before visiting hours.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Theo threw up a mock solute and Hermione rolled her eyes at the pair.

“Hey Gin,” she heard Theo say as she turned to leave.

“Race you to the pitch!”

Thundering footsteps and laughter followed them, which slightly warmed the feeling of darkness pressing in on Hermione’s shoulders. Draco had needed her, and she failed him. She couldn’t think about it, because doing so brought forward a surge of fear so strong it nearly staggered her backwards. Instead, she channeled her anxiety into anger. Anger towards a spectacled Gryffindor she’d considered one of her best friends. How could he do this?

Her annoyance with Harry grew with each step that brought her closer to the common room. It swirled and festered inside of her as she settled in to one of the common room tables with her book, and continued as one by one other students meandered down the stairs and to the Great Hall for breakfast. The hours passed and the words on the pages began to blur with both exhaustion and the unexpected onslaught of tears. She was physically and emotionally drained from the whole experience, but she didn’t dare go back upstairs to sleep. She knew her dreams would be haunted by Draco’s blood. The same blood that still stained beneath her fingernails. No, she’d much rather stay awake and wait for the evening to return, when she could see Draco again.

By the time lunch had come and gone, Hermione had enough of waiting in the common room. She wasn’t in the mood to help anyone else with their school work, so when the first opportunity arose she gathered her supplies and headed for the Astronomy Tower. She figured it would be quiet enough on a wintery Saturday afternoon. She was alone for a while, and it was nearing dinner by the time she heard another set of footsteps climbing the ladder up towards her hideaway. She looked down in anticipation, somehow expecting to see Ginny with her uncanny way of finding people. Instead, Harry’s head popped up through the entry hole to the tower, his cautious green eyes set directly on her.

“You,” Hermione growled.

“Hermione,” Harry spoke gently, but his voice was lined with a warning. He glanced at the ladder below him to remind her that other students could be near, and then he pulled his body up and into the room.

She pointed her wand towards the ladder and murmured silencing and locking charms on the wooden latch before turning back to Harry, her eyes blazing.

“Should I set up a defensive shield as well? Make sure you don’t try to murder me too?”

“Hermione,” he repeated, holding up his hands in surrender, purposely dropping his wand in the process.

“Of all the impulsive things you’ve done, Harry, this is the worst. You could have killed him! What in the hell were you thinking? Insolent, reckless, self-serving, and stupid.” She ticked off her reasons on her fingers as she spoke.

“Why am I even talking to you? I can barely look at you without wanting to scream. I—“

“I didn’t do it,” Harry spoke in a calm voice and his interjection made her even madder.

“You almost let someone bleed out in a bathroom, Harry James Potter!” She roared. “I get that you’re mad at me, that maybe you even hate me, but if that’s the case then take it out on me! You should’ve left him out of this!”

He merely shook his head and continued to look at her with knowing eyes.

“First off, as I just said, I didn’t do it. Second, I could never hate you, Hermione.”

Hermione’s breath caught slightly but she surged forward in a quaky voice.

“What do you mean you didn’t do it?”

“Exactly what I said. I didn’t cast the spell, by the time I made it to the bathroom he was already cursed.”

Hermione’s eyes widened in alarm.

“What? But that means…” she trailed off.

Hermione had experienced time travel before, but Harry’s words were the closest she’d felt in years to slowing down time itself.

“Do you know what happened?”

Hermione spoke weakly, but she already knew by the way he watched her that this conversation was not about to go as expected.

“Somewhat. I talked to Malfoy.”

Her jaw hinged open.

“You spoke with Draco, today?”

Harry took a deep sigh and reached his hands up to rub at his eyes behind his glasses before saying.

“Let’s take a seat and talk about this? It’s been a long day, ‘Mione.”

“Where have you been?” The question slipped past her lips before she could stop it.

“The infirmary. I’ve been trying to right some wrongs.”

A small feeling of relief tingled in her chest. Maybe the Harry that she recognized was still there, hidden underneath her residual anger. With a deep breath she bent down to pick up his dropped wand and handed it to him. He gave her a tired smile.

Once the two were settled onto the floor facing one another he began to speak again.

“Like I said earlier, I didn’t cast the spell. After I ran away from you in that hallway I didn’t know what to do. I was wrecked. It felt like my entire world had turned upside down, like I didn’t know who or what I was to believe. I decided I needed to see Malfoy. Yell at him, punch him, I don’t know. I just needed someone to give me answers and I couldn’t quite get myself to let you explain it yourself. So I used the map and saw he was in the second floor corridor. I was halfway across the castle at that point, so I ran to catch up and by the time I checked the map again it said he was in Myrtle’s lavatory. I ran inside without even thinking. I figured he was hiding from Filch or something, but what I saw instead...It was awful, he was bleeding and I couldn’t stop it and I had no idea what had happened.” Harry shivered and she nodded, she knew exactly what that helplessness felt like.

“He asked for you, as he was lying there,” Harry whispered.

“He kept saying ‘get Granger,’ I guess Moaning Myrtle listened to him, even if I didn’t.”

“But you didn’t see who did it?”

Harry shook his head and looked at her reproachfully.

“You have to understand, ‘Mione, I didn’t go into that bathroom expecting that. I was mad and confused, sure, but I didn’t want to see him nearly die. I just wanted to yell at him, and demand answers. In my mind it was dodgy enough that he was out past curfew, and I’d convinced myself that he cursed you or love potioned you or something. But when I saw him I just panicked. I had no idea how to help him. I barely knew what I was saying when you two walked in.”

“And a simple patronus wouldn’t have helped? It’s your favorite spell after all, you showboating prat.” She replied drily and he coughed out a wet laugh.

“Yeah, I fucked up, okay? I should’ve done more to help. That’s why I went to the hospital wing. I needed to apologize…and I also needed to figure some things out.”

“Things?”

“Yeah. I needed to know why…why you said you love him, why Ginny was so determined to save him…I needed to understand how the boy who, for all intents and purposes, is my enemy, became so damn important to the two people I thought I could trust more than anyone else.”

“Harry—“

“Shhhh.”

He brought his fingers to his lips, silencing her.

“For once, let me do the explaining.”

Her heart pounded so loudly it reverberated in her ears, so she nodded mutely.

“I got to the infirmary right after my detention ended. I would’ve gone earlier, but Snape caught me before I even made it to breakfast. Anyhow, I walked into his room and Draco was awake, barely, but watching me appear out of thin air with my cloak seemed to wake him up fully,” Harry chuckled.

+++

An Hour Earlier.

“You and that bloody invisibility cloak.”

Draco’s voice was hoarse. Instead of responding, Harry reached out to hand him a glass of water from his bedside table. Draco stared at his outstretched hand and then mumbled.

“What? Didn’t see enough with my innards bleeding out in the bathroom so you’re trying to poison me now?”

Harry winced. He knew he deserved the jab, but it made his sense of unease only grow.

“Malfoy—Draco,” he corrected, meeting the pale wizard’s gaze. “I’m here to apologize. I’m not the one who cursed you but I found you, I should’ve helped, I shouldn’t have just stood there like a dolt.”

Draco raised his eyebrows.

“An apology from Potter himself, I never thought the day would come.”

“I never thought this day would come for a lot of reasons.”

At this, Draco’s shoulders slumped.

“Yeah, well, for what it’s worth I’m sorry too,”Draco whispered and Harry gaped at him. He’d never once witnessed an apology from Malfoy to anyone.

“Are you feeling alright?” Harry joked weakly. “I didn’t think it would be that easy to get a sorry out of your proud arse.”

Draco’s grey eyes were swirling like mercury, and Harry tracked the emotions that he could decipher out of them. Remorse, pain, and something else. Harry shook his head slightly.

“Aside from almost being ripped in half, I feel great Potter, thanks for asking.”

Harry let out a surprised laugh.

“This is weird,” he muttered and Draco murmured in agreement.

“Okay, well, Draco,” the name still felt foreign on his tongue but he continued on.

“I’m sorry for not stepping up. We may not get along, and I have had my fair share of suspicions about you, but I don’t want you dead. I’m-I’m not a killer.”

“Not a killer?” Draco questioned. “You expect to make it through this war without death?”

“As much as I can prevent it,” Harry said seriously, “and that includes you.”

The two eyed each other warily. Eventually, Draco spoke again.

“Thank you, Harry. You didn’t have to apologize. After everything I’ve done to you over the past six years, I probably deserved to be blown off in my time of need.”

Harry gave him a wry smile.

“I guess we can call each other even.”

“I suppose we can.”

Silence lingered for a moment, and then Harry, in all of his Gryffindor courage, asked the question that had haunted him for the last day.

“So you love her?”

Draco’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t deny it.

“What makes you say that?”

Harry ran a hand through his abnormally messy hair and stared at a spot on the wall behind Draco’s head.

“Sometimes, Hermione gets this look in her eye, like she’s somewhere else. For years, I’ve wondered where she went to in her head.” Harry turned, his green eyes aligning with Draco’s.

“But I know now.”

Draco, despite his bandages, steeled his shoulders.

“Yes, I’m in love with her, Potter. I gathered from the fact that you tracked me down last night that you found out about us. I know that you have your skepticism, but I love her. I have always and will always love her. And despite how angry you are, I won’t fight you, because I know it would upset her.”

Harry blew out a sigh. “Yeah, I figured as much. I just don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“How it could happen. You’ve been a right git from the moment I met you. I mean, Merlin, Malfoy, I’ve been trailing you as a potential death eater all year.”

Draco let out a low chuckle.

“Potter, are you really going to stand here and tell me that you think people are nothing more than the labels people call them? You’re going to tell me that Sirius Black is no more than a crazed death eater, that Remus Lupin is a threat to society?”

Harry said nothing.

“Yeah,” Draco muttered. “That’s what I thought.”

“What’s your angle here, Malfoy?” Harry pressed.

“Hermione is good and—“

“And what? You think I’m not?” Draco rolled his eyes.

“Life is more than good and bad, black and white, golden boy. Pull your head out of your righteous ass and see that most people live in shades of grey.”

“There’s the pompous git I know.”

“Great, well, now that we’re on familiar territory once again. I have a favor to ask you, and considering Madam Pomfrey had to pull me back from the brink of death, I’d say you owe me it.”

Harry crossed his arms. “Go on.”

“I need you and I to make a truce.”

Harry’s eyebrows raised in surprise but Draco ignored him and continued speaking.

“Whether or not you trust me, you need me alive, because I’ll keep Hermione alive. Through anything, by any means, I will protect her. Following that logic, I’m an asset to you, because we both know that you and Weaslebee would be dead ten times over if it wasn’t for her.”

“We don’t just keep her around because she’s brilliant you know,” Harry interjected but Draco silenced him with a glare.

“Trust me Potter, you don’t need to remind me of Hermione’s positive attributes. I could write the damn book.”

“Why does she trust you?” Harry’s eyes narrowed.

“Does it matter? The fact is, she does.” Draco sighed and then returned his eyes to Harry.

“Listen, Hermione is the most important person in my life. She’s everything. And because of that, I’m asking you to let me keep her safe. I can’t tell you everything, not with the Dark Lord trying to poke inside your head.”

“How much do you—“

“Don’t worry about it. Please, just keep your questions to a minimum and let me do this.”

Harry’s brow furrowed.

“Yeah, alright, I’ll accept it,” he conceded at last and Draco let out the smallest of breaths in relief.

“But you better keep your word, Malfoy,” he warned. “Hermione makes it through this war. No exceptions.”

Draco looked at him, his next words solemn.

“If Hermione died, Potter, I can promise you that I wouldn’t be alive to see it.”

+++

Hermione watched Harry, enraptured by his story. His recount of the night was brief, purposefully leaving out Draco’s mention of laying down his own life for her. Just because he thought Draco was sincere in his expressions did not change the fact that he remained wary of their alliance. When he finally finished his retelling, Hermione repeated the words that she’d wanted to tell him for years.

“I love him.”

The corner of his mouth quirked upwards.

“I know. Seems to be a bit of a reoccurring theme as of late.”

“Harry, I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I wanted to tell you, so many times, but I couldn’t.”

“It’s okay, ‘Mione. I know I freaked out last night, but I understand.”

“And I know you don’t like him, and that this probably feels like a betrayal and—“

“Hermione,” he cut her off. “It’s okay. Really.”

She stopped her blabbering to look at her friend. His moss green eyes were shining with sincerity, not a hint of resentment anywhere in his features.

“Why are you so okay with this? You most certainly were not okay with this yesterday.”

He gave her a strange look, it looked like guilt.

“I’m a hot head, you know that better than anyone. But I’ve since had time to cool off and…I know you don’t really have much control over who you fall in love with.”

Hermione blinked. Other people might write off what Harry had just told her, but she knew better. The pieces in her head began to spin, snapshots and memories of the past six years meshing together to form a cohesive thought.

Harry’s glances at Cho and Cedric at the Yule Ball, the tears in his eyes at the end of the Triwizard Cup, his panic after Yule last year, his comments when he was drunk at the last House Cup party, and now, the way his eyes always seemed to flicker back to a table across the Great Hall.”

“Harry—“

He smiled at her almost sadly.

“Ask it.”

“It never was Cho, was it?” Her words were quiet, but the magnitude of them echoed in the empty common room.

“No.”

“It was Cedric. He was the one you wanted to be with, wasn’t it?”

A single tear slipped down Harry’s cheek and he swiped it away.

“Yes.”

“Oh Harry.”

She was off of her couch and wrapping herself around him within a matter of seconds.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” Harry murmured into her hair. “I didn’t tell anyone. I—I didn’t want to admit it for a long time, maybe even to myself.”

“I’m sorry if you felt like you couldn’t tell me,” she responded. “But you’re my best friend, and I love you for exactly who you are.”

It was when the pair was still in their embrace when the locking spell on the tower hatch sprung open.

“Oh! We’re hugging now, I must’ve missed something,” Ginny’s voice sounded tight, “because the only reason I broke that spell was to make sure Harry hadn’t tried to kill you too.”

The two peeled apart and Hermione looked at her sheepishly.

“Gin! Hi!”

Ginny quirked an eyebrow in amusement.

“Hi ‘Mione.” She then turned her attention to the boy beside her.

“Harry James Potter, do not even try to speak to me right now.”

“Ginny it wasn’t me, I didn’t cast the spell.” Her blue eyes widened before snapping to Hermione’s for confirmation, who nodded solemnly. A breath whooshed out of the redhead’s lungs.

“Oh. Thank. Merlin. I mean, what does that look like to have your boyfriend try to kill your best friend’s boyfriend? Not great, that’s for sure.”

Hermione was ready to pipe up in Harry’s defense, when she remembered the conversation that Ginny had interrupted. Her eyes bounced between the two people in front of her like a ping pong across a table. Picking up on her confusion, Harry spoke.

“Speaking of that, Gin, I was just telling Hermione about some very important and private parts of my personal life.” He tilted his head forward to her and she made a small noise in understanding.

“Ah, so our ruse is over.” When Harry nodded she continued. “Bollocks. Can we at least wait until end of quidditch season for the big public break up? I’ve been having so much fun bothering Ronnekins with our relationship.”

“What is going on here?” Hermione sputtered at last. “You knew?”

Ginny threw her an incredulous look.

“Of course I knew.”

“So you’re faking it?”

Harry chortled.

“Yes, ‘Mione. Definitely faking it,” Ginny chimed in from beside him.

“Why are you two pretending to be in a relationship?” The pair glanced at one another.

“Let’s just say that Ginny and I both had things to gain from this agreement.”

“What could you possibly gain from this?” Hermione’s curious gaze met the red head’s first.

“I mean you’ve been so busy sneaking away with Harry that you’ve barely been in the library and—“ Hermione froze.

“You’ve barely been in the library because you’re avoiding something.”

When Ginny didn’t say anything in her own defense, Hermione knew her hunch was correct.

“It’s Theo, isn’t it? You were avoiding him.”

“Wait, Theo? As in Theodore Nott?”

Harry spun to Ginny, his jaw dropping.

“I thought this plan was so you could get over your crush on Lee Jordan, but Theo? Oh this is even better than I thought. Ron is going to lose it when he finds out you’re friends with snakes.”

An uneasy look between Ginny and Hermione was all Harry needed to see for his jaw to drop open.

“Wait, Ron knows?”

Silence.

“RON KNEW AND I DIDN’T?!”

“It’s not like we told him!” Ginny nearly hissed, “he figured it out on his own a little over a month ago, and has been a right git about it every moment since. Besides, he doesn’t know everything, he mostly only knows that Hermione and Draco are together.”

Harry’s face shifted to one of pure shock. “I can’t believe he’s kept a secret from me.”

“Seems a bit like the pot calling the kettle black doesn’t it?” Hermione chimed in, raising a brow at her friend. “It appears we’ve all been keeping secrets, after all.”

Harry’s shoulders slumped.

“Right, you’re right.”

“Speaking of secrets, Ron’s been complaining about seeing less and less of you all year. What better cover than an excuse to snog his little sister? It’s a sure fire way to never have him come snooping for you.”

Harry smiled sheepishly and ran a hand through his hair.

“They don’t call you the brightest witch of our age for nothing.”

Hermione’s eyes narrowed. She thought back to the conversation they had been having before Ginny interrupted. Harry needed a cover…but for what?

Who are you hiding Harry?

She did not ask the question aloud, but the way Harry looked at her, his eyes guarded, she knew that he’d heard it all the same.

“Well this has been a very interesting turn of events, but I think it’s about time to go back to the infirmary,” Ginny announced. She stood and pulled her friends up with her.

“Harry will you be joining us? Perhaps explaining to me how you didn’t curse Draco but still managed to watch him bleed out in a girl’s bathroom floor on the way there?”

Harry winced under her stern gaze but quickly shook his head.

“You guys go on ahead. We can talk more about this, about well, everything, later. I’m going to head to dinner, I think Ron and I need to have a chat.”

Hermione nodded to Harry in confirmation.

“Later.”

“Should be one hell of a conversation,” Ginny mumbled under her breath.

 

 

Chapter 58

Notes:

Consider this an interlude of sorts…we’ll be back to what everyone is waiting for soon!

Ginny Weasley was many things, but a coward was not one of them. And yet, as she stared down at the piece of parchment in her hands, clutched so tightly that the corners had crumpled, cowardice was all she felt.

Ginbug,

Just got off my weekly floo call with mum. She let me know that you and Harry had called things off, asked me to check in on you. My fakest condolences to your sham relationship. On a real note, have you given any thought to what we talked about at Christmas? Love deserves to be celebrated, not hidden, Ginny.

All my love,

Charlie

 

She’d received the letter with the morning post, and had read it a hundred times since. She knew every word, what she didn’t know, was how she was going to handle it.

It had only been 2 days since Ginny found Hermione and Harry in the Astronomy tower.

After Hermione had discovered their secret, it felt somewhat silly to continue the charade. Staging the breakup yesterday had been almost too easy, just a few overheard comments in the Gryffindor common room before breakfast, and by lunch everyone in the castle knew about the boy who lived to be single again.

In many ways, Ginny was happy to let go of a secret, especially one she had to hide from Theo. But a small part of her feared what it meant now that there were no true barriers to telling the boy how she felt. A voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like her older brother continued to pester her.

Tell him. Tell him. Tell him.

Seeing Draco nearly die had also exacerbated her problem. She understood, now more than ever, that the future was unknown. How would she have felt if it were Theo in that hospital bed? If something were to happen to him and he never knew the depths of her feelings for him? The conjured image of an unconscious Theo laying in a pool of his own blood haunted her.

Tell him. Tell him. Tell him.

“Get a handle on yourself, Ginevra.”

She whispered the words before slouching even further down in her seat. She was tucked away in the library alcove, trying to find a moment of reprieve from the anxious stares of her classmates that she’d received at dinner. She knew that she should’ve done a better job acting heartbroken over Harry the past several days, but she couldn’t. Now, half the school thought she was in denial and the other half thought she was a heartless bitch. She’d fled dinner early, too fed up with the needless attention. Her stomach growled as if to remind her of that fact.

“I thought lions were supposed to be brave.”

Ginny’s attention snapped towards the familiar male voice. Of bloody course he’d find her in this state.

“Huh?”

“You’re hiding.”

“I am not.”

Theo arched an eyebrow at her and she sighed.

“Okay, maybe I am. What of it?”

“Ginny,” his voice softened as he moved to take the seat next to her.

“To hell with what any of them think. You can process your break up in whatever way you need to. I…” Theo swallowed, looking rather uncomfortable before continuing. “I know you cared a great deal about Potter. Feel what you need to feel. I promise I won’t tell anyone if you cry.”

Ginny stared at Theo’s twinkling brown eyes and warm smile and felt the breath catch in her throat. Her heart pounded against her ribcage.

Tell him. Tell him. Tell him.

“Oh bugger it all.”

His forehead scrunched adorably.

“G?”

“It wasn’t a real relationship.”

“I—what?”

Ginny reached her hand up to pinch his lips closed.

“No. Let me finish properly before you say anything. I have to get this out.”

He nodded with her fingers still on his mouth.

“I wasn’t really dating Harry. It was a fake relationship. I asked him to do it and he agreed. He needed an excuse to spend less time with my brother and I…I needed a way to hide my feelings for you.”

Theo’s eyes widened but he kept his mouth shut. She forged onward.

“Theo, I’m in love with you. I tried to stop it, I swear, I just—somewhere between frogs and  quidditch and fireworks I fell for you. You understand me and challenge me better than anyone. And you’re so bloody fit that sometimes I look at you and I can’t even breathe. And I know we’re from wildly different backgrounds and you aren’t interested I just—“

“No!”

His response startled her just long enough to falter. He rushed to fill the silence.

“No. You don’t get to decide yourself whether or not I’m interested!” Theo huffed out a disbelieving laugh. “Ginny, I am so much more than interested. I love you. Have for ages.”

It was her turn to gape at him.

“What?!”

He reached out, pulling both of her hands into his so that they were facing each other fully.

“Ginny, I’ve been falling for you since the moment you told me to call you Ginevra in Hogs Head on Valentine’s Day.”

“But, but that was years ago!”

“I know.”

“You didn’t say anything! Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“Because I’m a Slytherin!” He replied indignantly. “Self preservation is in my nature. Never in a million years did I think someone as incredible as you would be interested in a death eaters son like me.”

Ginny tilted forward and flicked Theo’s forehead.

“Ow!”

“Don’t talk about yourself like that! You know I’ve never once thought that. Your father is an ass, but you are not him nor will you ever be.”

Theo rubbed his head, looking at her petulantly.

“Well you didn’t have to injure me.”

“Oh please it was barely a flick don’t be a baby.”

His expression shifted into something wistful.

“That’s part of why I love you, you know? You never let me off easy.”

She laughed despite the shocking revelation of their prior conversation.

“And that’s part of why I love you. You always make me laugh. I can’t help but be happy around you.”

Theo grinned, and he took a deep breath before speaking. He leaned closer, his words barely above a whisper.

“I love you, Ginevra Molly Weasley.”

Her heart stuttered as she sucked in a breath.

“Are you sure? Me?”

His face broke into a wide dimpling smile, the one he only used around her.

“Yes, you, only you. Always you.”

In a courageous surge fueled by his words, Ginny rushed forward. He met her halfway, their lips, at last, pressing together.

Kissing Theo felt like everything at once. Like pranking and laughter, hope and friendship, and above all, love. It was Theo who broke away first, only for a moment.

“I love you,” he whispered into the breadth of space between their mouths.

“I love you,” she repeated, before kissing him again. Ginny never wanted to stop kissing, never wanted to leave the feeling of exhilaration that pumped through her veins. A part of her knew that now that it had began, she couldn’t see it ending, all roads led to Theo, they always had.

+++

Charlie,

You were right.

Love,

Ginny (and Theo)

Chapter 59

Hermione paced the length of the room of requirement with increasing speed. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

“Granger, darling, you’re going to wear through your insoles marching around like that,” Theo called lazily from his spot on the couch.

“Oh leave it,” Ginny chided from her seat beside him. “We’re about to have our worlds collide for the first time. If she wants to have a moment of panic about it then let her.”

“Worlds collide? Bit dramatic, sweetheart. We’re simply having a meeting of the minds.”

“Meeting of the minds to figure out how to beat the darkest Wizard of our time, you mean?”

“Exactly that. Piece of cake.”

“Ah yes, getting teenage boys to overcome six years of animosity, lies, and fragile egos for the greater good. Not to mention sharing secrets that our lives quite literally depend on. Couldn’t think of anything easier.”

Hermione smiled at the bantering that continued between the new couple. She thought back to a few nights before, when Ginny and Theo had walked into the infirmary holding hands, both sporting flushed faces and ridiculous grins.

“Well it’s about time,” Draco said in what sounded like a disinterested drawl, but the sparkle in his eyes betrayed him.

Her response had been simpler, she laughed at the lovestruck look they both wore on their faces and then wrapped them up into a hug.

“Is it an appropriate time to say I told you so?” She’d whispered to Theo with a grin. “I’m so bloody happy that I’m just going to give you a free pass on teasing for the day,” he’d replied.

“What if they don’t come?”

Hermione pulled herself from her musings to voice the insecurity that weighed heavy on her shoulders.

“They will.”

The gentle assurance came from the other side of the room where Draco leaned against the wall. He had been released from the infirmary earlier that morning after five nights, but he was still far from fully recovered. Healing that much blood loss takes time, and Madame Pomphrey warned him not to overexert himself. Hermione worried he wouldn’t listen. Her eyes snapped to his, and his gaze remained calm despite the anxiety she knew rattled her own.

“But what—“

“They’ll come,” he reiterated, and then the corner of his lip lifted into a smile.

“And isn’t this what you’ve always wanted, love? For all of us to get along?”

The breath rushed out of her lungs in a singular burst of fond exasperation.

“You may be right, but this isn’t exactly how I’d pictured it.”

“Things are never quite as we picture them, though, are they?”

Hermione didn’t have time to respond, as the door to the room swung open and Ron and Harry stepped inside. Harry glanced at the others before walking towards an open chair. Ron followed suit, rustling Ginny’s hair with the palm of his hand as he passed.

“You’re here.”

Hermione’s mouth had suddenly gone bone dry and she swallowed before speaking again.

“Thank you for coming.”

Ron wore a bemused grin.

“Alright there, Mione? You look like you swallowed a lemon.”

“I—well—yes, I’m fine. I’m just glad you’re here. I was worried you wouldn’t show…”

“Wouldn’t show?” Ron laughed. “You and my sister are finally willing to clue us in on what you two have been up to and you thought we wouldn’t show? Mental, you are.”

“And come on, you know better than, well, anyone, that if a dangerous opportunity presents itself we cannot help but take it on,” Harry chimed in.

“I’d prefer to not remember all the dangerous situations you’ve put her in if I can help it, Potter.”

“Oh put a sock in it, Malfoy.” Harry’s words lacked their usual vitriol. “I’d argue that her involvement in your subterfuge is just as, maybe even more, dangerous than anything we’ve been involved in.”

Draco assessed the other wizard warily.

“I honestly didn’t know that a word as complex as subterfuge was in your vocabulary.”

Harry laughed, and Hermione released a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Okay well, this has been lovely small talk,” Ginny cut in. “But curfew is in a few hours and I think it’s probably best if we get on with the point of this meeting. Who’d like to begin?”

Her eyes scanned the silence of the room.

“Draco? How kind of you to volunteer.”

Draco rolled his eyes, pushing off of the wall into a standing position.

“Well I hate to be skeptical—“

“Says the Slytherin.”

Draco ignored Ginny’s jab.

“But what I’m about to say could very well incriminate not only myself but also everyone I love. And nothing against you, Potter, but how can I be sure that your scar isn’t being used as a one way radio straight to the Dark Lord’s brain?”

“Draco! Don’t be rude!”

“Don’t worry about it Mione,” Harry murmured before turning to face the other wizard.

“Your concerns are fair. But I know occulmency.”

“Prove it.”

“Draco is this really nec—“

Harry held up a hand to silence Hermione’s concerns.

“Go ahead. Try me.”

Draco pulled out his wand and whispered the legilimency incantation. The pair stared at each other for one minute, then two, then three. At last, Draco looked away, breaking the spell.

“Well, Potter, I hate to admit it, but I’m impressed.”

“Harry,” Hermione gaped, “you really did it!”

Again, he grinned at her.

“I told you this morning that I could do it.”

“I know, it’s just, well, you and Professor Snape don’t exactly have the best relationship and…”

“Oh, I didn’t learn from Snape.”

She tilted her head at him.

“Then who did you learn from? Sirius?”

“It’s not really important. Back to Draco, you were going to clue us in?”

Draco looked at him just a moment longer than necessary.

“You lions are terrible at avoidance,” he muttered. “But sure, I’ll start.”

The blonde took his place in the seat nearest to Hermione and leaned forward to address the group.

“I’ve been trying to figure out the best place to start this story, and I’ve discovered that there isn’t a perfect answer. But the easiest place to begin, is on Halloween, fourth year…”

++++

“Wait, so you’re telling me that your idea for the summoning spell was actually Nott’s idea?”

“Don’t worry, Potter, no thanks needed for saving your life.”

“I’d argue my flying saved my life.”

“Although you are an excellent flyer, there would’ve been no flying had it not been for the summoning spell.”

“Excellent flyer? If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were flirting with me.”

“Do you want me to be?”

“Uh—“

“Potter, don’t get him started!”

“Too late, Draco. You know I’ve got a thing for the chosen one. And now that him and Gin are over I figured this is my one chance.”

“You’re an incorrigible flirt Theodore.”

“Oh don’t be too jealous, my lovely Ginevra, you know my true affections will always lay with you.”

“My lovely Ginevra? Wait…are you two together?!”

“Yes, brother dearest, we are together.”

“Oi! Stay away from my sister, Nott! And you-what do you think you’re doing, Ginny?! You and Harry just broke up!”

“Mate I already told you that the break up was a mutual decision. Ginny and I are good, I’m happy for her.”

“Happy for her?! Have you taken a bludger to the head, Harry?!”

“You’re about to take a lot worse to the head if you don’t shut up about my love life Ronald Billius Weasley!”

+++

“Soulmates!?”

“Yes.”

“Soulmates with Malfoy. Malfoy is a Veela. Soulmates with a Veela Malfoy…Do you realize the weaponized insults I’ve been missing out on?!”

“Harry!”

“No, Mione, pretty boy over there is never living this down.”

+++

“The frogs in the cauldrons was Theo?!”

“I neither confirm nor deny my involvement.”

“But Malfoy just said it was you. How did you do it?”

“A jokester never reveals his secrets, Weasley.”

“Oh come on, give me a clue!”

“You want a clue? Fine, ask your sister. She’s the one who gave me the idea. Her Great Hall fiasco last year was rather, ribbeting, was it not?”

“GINNY?!”

+++

“…he cut off your dad’s hand?!”

“Yes.”

“Bleeding hell.”

“Mmm, it was bit more than bleeding, Weasley. More like hemorrhaging if you ask me.”

“Really, Theo, you’re making a joke about my father’s amputation right now?”

“It’s called comedic timing, Drake.”

“If that’s what you’re calling your gallows humor then Severus is a comedian.”

++++

At long last, the conversation came to the discussion of the prior week.

“Theo and I have spent the last few months trying to figure out who volunteered themselves to the Dark Lord’s task. To be frank, we’d done a terrible job. We know more secrets about our fellow Slytherins than I ever anticipated, but nothing about who it could be. It wasn’t until I complained to Hermione about it last week that she gave me a rather brilliant insight. All the secrets we’d been learning may be irrelevant, but they weren’t useless. I put them together and started recognizing patterns.”

“Patterns?”

“Yeah. For example, Daphne Greengrass spends all of her Hogsmeade weekends holed up in the back of Tomes and Scrolls reading smutty muggle romance books that she special orders using a fake name. That would’ve left her no time to curse Katie.”

Theo snorted.

“I mapped out all of the intel that we gathered and built up potential alibis for essentially every upper class Slytherin that would allow us to reasonably deny their involvement in Katie’s incident or Neville’s poisoning, or both, and it left me with only one suspect who I couldn’t account for.”

“And it was?”

Hermione tensed at the question. She’d already heard this story, whispered from Draco in the quiet darkness of the infirmary, and if she was honest she didn’t want to hear it again. Her wants didn’t matter. Draco blew out a slow breath.

“Marcus Flint.”

+++

Draco considered himself to be a good actor, after all, he had a lot of experience. First with his role as the Slytherin Prince, and then through multiple years of pretending to not be hopelessly besotted with one Hermione Granger.

But despite his typical comfort in acting, as Draco stared down Marcus Flint, he realized he was about to have to put on the greatest show of his life. And in a girls bathroom of all places. If he hadn’t found himself in such a precarious situation like a foolhardy Gryffindor he would’ve laughed. Instead, his lips turned down into his best sneer.

“Flint.”

“Malfoy. I was hoping it would come to this.”

Draco had disillusioned himself and followed Marcus out of the Slytherin common room earlier that night on a hunch. He couldn’t wait for Theo to get back before making his move, and he hadn’t told Hermione where he was going in the journals. In hindsight, he now realized that was a mistake. The way Flint was standing made the hair on the back of his neck prickle in anticipation. There were no witnesses for what was about to occur. Draco’s hand tightened around the wand in his pocket.

“What are you doing here?”

Marcus smirked, an ugly expression that only fueled Draco’s unease.

“Me? I’m just doing what you and your pathetic father couldn’t.”

Draco swallowed back the panic rising in his throat and forced all of his emotions into the snitch in his mind.

Occlude you idiot.

“Last I checked, you aren’t murdering Dumbledore in a girl’s bathroom.”

His voice came out clear with just a tinge of boredom. Thank Merlin. He continued.

“Also, your other attempts have been utter shit. A cursed necklace? Poisoned wine? You haven’t even been able to successfully kill a Gryffindor. Come on, Flint, you know as well as I that the great Albus Dumbledore isn’t going down by accident.”

“And what do you know about murder, hm? Your father didn’t even allow you the task. Said you were a child. I don’t need my father’s help, I don’t need anyone’s help! I’m the one that the Dark Lord chose, and when I succeed, I will be considered his most loyal follower!”

Draco tilted his head, assessing his foe coolly. Marcus was angry enough to spit his words and Draco nearly smiled. He almost had him right where he needed him. Anger loosened lips, anger left secrets unprotected. He pushed farther.

“Careful, Marcus, your daddy issues are showing.”

The other wizard growled.

“You‘re a son of a bitch, Malfoy! I’ve waited for this kind of opportunity for years. You walk around this castle like you own the place, Prince of fucking Slytherin, but your time is up. It’s taken me mere months to do what no wizard has been able to do before!”

Draco tilted his head, silently daring him to continue.

“You always underestimated me, everyone did. Stupid, stupid, Marcus. But I’m not stupid! I found a way into the castle, and once it is fixed, I will lead the Dark Lord and my fellow death eaters in. Hogwarts will be ours.”

“Congratulations,” Draco felt like he was occluding every emotion in his very soul to bite out the word. “Now, can you tell me why we’re in a lavatory?”

Marcus’s grin showed all of his crooked teeth.

“Oh, I know something that you don’t? How interesting. I would’ve thought that your father would’ve let you in on the secret. Perhaps it’s only for true death eaters to know. Or maybe you should’ve figured it out by now thanks to your obsessive crush on Potter. Regardless, we’ll count this as yet another thing I’ve bested you at.”

“I’m growing bored of your soliloquy, do get on with it.”

“This isn’t just a bathroom. If you don’t recall from second year, it’s the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets.”

Fuck.

Draco kept his face void of emotional reaction.

“So the answer is as easy as opening the door?”

Flint’s grin wavered slightly, so Draco kept on.

“Or are you to say that the rumor mill was correct, and that the Chamber was destroyed by Potter on his way out? Or maybe you don’t know at all, considering we’re both here but the door remains closed. As it has been for a thousand years.”

“You’re wrong. The Chamber will work, I know it! There’s no way that the Basilisk lived underground for a millennia with no access to the outside world. There’s a way in and out.”

“Unless you’re the one who is wrong.”

“Shut up.”

“Maybe your plan isn’t as fool proof as you made it out to be. Maybe, you’re not the death eater you think you are.”

“I said SHUT UP!”

“There’s no proof that the chamber has another exit. You’re no closer to killing Dumbledore than I am. And if I were you, I wouldn’t want to be around when the Dark Lord finds that out.”

“Sectumsempra!”

Draco pulled the wand out of his pocket to shield, but Flint’s spell was faster. The unfamiliar spell slashed across Draco’s chest in a vicious arc of orange. He fell to his knees as the blood started to fall, but Marcus wasn’t there to see it. He fled the bathroom the moment he saw the wound that he caused, his self preservation winning out over his anger, and it was only a few minutes later when Harry burst through the door.

+++

“I’m going to kill him.”

Ginny grabbed Theo’s arm, holding him back from jumping off of the couch and storming out of the room.

“Hold on!”

“No. No! I am going to annihilate him! Let me go, Ginny!”

Beside the arguing pair, Ron was also rising.

“We have to tell Dumbledore! He can’t be in the castle!”

“NO ONE is going anywhere!”

Draco’s yell silenced the remaining voices, as all heads turned towards him.

“This information doesn’t leave this room.”

“WHAT!?”

“Come on, think about it. If I publicly tell on Flint, get him expelled, then he fails his mission and I’m seen as a traitor to the Da—to Tom. I know it and Flint knows it. The git has me right where he wants me.”

“Malfoy, you cannot be serious. If death eaters come into the castle they are going to kill people!”

“You think I don’t know that, Weasley? You think I like having to carry these secrets around, play this role? I nearly fucking died and I have to sit next to my almost murderer in Transfiguration tomorrow like nothing happened.”

“You have to tell someone.”

“I bloody well know that,” Draco snapped. “I just can’t make an ordeal of it, and if there’s one thing you need to learn about Theo, it’s that he loves to make a show of everything.”

“I take offense to that!”

“I don’t care.”

Draco turned his attention away from his affronted brother.

“For the record, I did tell Severus, and he told Dumbledore. They all agreed with me. We can’t jeopardize my position by punishing Flint.”

“So the Headmaster agrees that we should just sit back and do nothing?” Ron’s tone remained incredulous.

“Well it wouldn’t be the first time, would it?”

Ron winced at the interjection and Draco’s eyebrows raised in surprise. He did not expect such an outburst.

“You don’t trust Dumbledore, Potter?”

“I trust him.”

When Draco scoffed at the pitiful attempt at a lie Harry continued. “Okay, maybe I don’t fully trust him. I trust that everything he does is for what he thinks is the greater good…but I also think that he’ll push morality aside and put people at risk to do it. He let me be neglected for ten years, he let Sirius sit in Azkaban for twelve, and he forced me to compete in a tournament meant for adults that he knew damn well I didn’t enter myself into. The foundation he’s built doesn’t foster a lot of trust, does it?”

Harry paused to run his hand through his hair.

“Professor Dumbledore was one of the first adults who ever showed me any sort of compassion. He made me feel like I was worth something, and I dunno, I guess I clung to that. But once Sirius came back, and I got to spend time with him, I realized that Dumbledore’s compassion was strategic. I’ve—I’ve been a bloody pawn in his chess game my whole life!”

“That’s..shockingly insightful coming from you.”

“Thanks for the underhanded compliment Malfoy, but I can’t take all the credit. I don’t know if I ever would’ve realized it until Sirius. He loves me, just me. Not my status or my fame or my power. He’s the parent I’ve always wanted. I feel comfortable telling him anything.”

“And by anything are you inferring to the fact that you told him about this meeting beforehand?”

Harry looked at him sheepishly.

“I may have stayed up late in the common room last night to floo-call him…”

“It’s fine, Potter. Sirius has known about all of this for, well, decades now I suppose.”

“Yeah he said as much.” Harry turned to look at Hermione. “Hurts to know you trusted him but not me. He said he’s known about you and Malfoy since summer before fifth year!”

“Harry I’ll apologize a thousand more times if that makes you feel better, but right now can we circle back to the original point of this discussion?”

“No,” Ron interrupted. “I want to know how the bloody hell Flint is still here to begin with. He was in Fred and George’s year, he should’ve graduated!”

“Failed his NEWTS, had to come back,” Theo answered angrily. “Unsurprising, honestly. Haven’t you noticed that he’s been in remedial classes with us since first year?”

“Right, right, okay well before we decide what to do about Flint—“

“We aren’t doing anything about—“

“I suppose I should probably also share what I’ve been learning from Dumbledore!”

Harry raised his voice, cutting through the mounting argument between Ron and Draco.

“I thought your meetings were top secret?” Ron questioned, a tinge of hurt now lining his tone.

“Yeah, well, I think I’m tired of letting the Headmaster call all the shots. What I learned is big, and, if there’s anything I’ve learned from Sirius, it’s that we’re better when we work together. I told him and Remus all about it over the hols, but I don’t think that’s enough. I need your help, all of you.”

His face took on an unusually solemn expression and the group honed in expectantly.

“What do you all know about horcruxes?”

Chapter 60

Ron Weasley could admit his weaknesses. He was hot tempered, stubborn, and at times rather jealous. He had the unfortunate tendency of speaking before thinking, and his Gryffindor pride made it difficult for him to apologize. In his younger years he’d made many mistakes, said things he didn’t mean, and rushed into fights that didn’t need to happen. But beyond his faults, Ron also knew his strengths, and the greatest one was his strategic mind. 

To him, life was like a chessboard. He could anticipate the players moves and plan the way to win. Strategy, in one way or another, was his strongest contribution to the life or death situations that he and his friends had faced. Sure, it wasn’t as flashy as Harry’s heroics or Hermione’s brilliance, but it was important all the same. Wars are not won in a day, after all, and Ron was the one that stepped back and looked at each battle. He mapped the proverbial chessboard, and he knew when and what sacrifices to make. 

So as the group’s discussion of horcruxes bled from one night into the next, and the next, Ron slowly found himself being pushed into a position he rarely held, the lead. With Hermione and Ginny’s urging, he asked the hard questions, delegated responsibilities, and won the begrudging respect of the Slytherins in the process. 

Now, over a week into planning, Ron stood at the front of the mismatched group of students in the RoR, waving his wand to make a piece of chalk write out their plan on the board behind him. He’d become a general, and dare he say it, he kind of liked it. 

“Let’s review what we’ve come up with so far. Harry—horcrux report.” 

Harry smirked at his friend’s official tone, but provided his report all the same. 

“Well, we know about Riddle’s diary from second year and it has been eliminated. Dumbledore also found a ring that belonged to Riddle’s father and destroyed that too. Based on our meetings he seems to think that Tom made six, to split his sole into the most magical number. That leaves us four more. Our discussion so far has been about what the other horcruxes could be, but we have no definitive answers. We last spoke about the potential for them to all be linked to Hogwarts founders, but I’m going to refer to the research team for more on that.” Harry nudged Hermione with a wink, she rolled her eyes before turning to face Ron. 

“Right, well, after scouring the library, and asking Remus to look through the library at Grimmauld too, we have identified several potential items of importance that could match what we think he’d be drawn to.” 

Ron nodded encouragingly, “Great, go on.”

“Starting with Hufflepuff, it seems that there is one significant thing referenced in multiple texts—Helga Hufflepuff’s cup. Supposedly, the cup is a magical item that defies Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration. The cup can be filled with any consumable liquid desired by the drinker, in a seemingly never ending supply. Last reported sighting of the cup was in the seventeenth century, but rumor has it that it has been secretly gifted down the lines of the Hufflepuff heir family.” 

H1) Diary. Location) Chamber of Secrets. Status) Destroyed 

H2) Gaunt Ring. Location) Dumbledore’s office. Status) Destroyed 

H3) Hufflepuff’s cup. Location) ? A pureblood family’s entry hall or some shite. Status) Not destroyed.

Hermione snorted at the notes Ron’s chalk was making but continued on.

“Next up, Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem. Said to give unlimited knowledge to anyone who wears it. It’s been missing for several centuries longer than the cup, no leads as to where it could be. For Slytherin I’m going to pass to Theo. He already had a permission slip to the restricted section for his Runes homework, and truthfully as a muggleborn I’m scared to touch any of the books in there having to do with Slytherin.” 

“Right you are, Granger darling, and smart of you to be cautious. Snakes like to bite you know.” 

The entire group rolled their eyes as Theo laughed. 

“Okay so Salazar Slytherin. Secretive wizard that one. Barely any written texts exist detailing his life, and certainly none of them available in the Hogwarts library. But lucky for us I am still considered the heir of Nott Manor, and have access to the house elves, and because I know that dear old dad drinks himself into a stupor by 8pm most nights, it was easy for me to ask Twinkle to grab one of the most coveted texts from the family library, make a copy of the chapter, and return it. No harm no foul.” 

“Brilliant mate,” Ron encouraged. “What did you find?” 

“It’s a locket. Salazar Slytherin’s locket. Apparently it has unbreakable protection charms and undetectable extension. Anything you put into the locket cannot be broken into or stolen, and the locket itself does not respond to any summoning magic.” 

“Locket…” Ron murmured, his brain whirring. Why did a locket feel so familiar? Pictures whizzed through his brain, memories that he tried to categorically place into different piles. Locket, locket, where had he seen a locket? In his mind, the images froze, when at last the memory he was seeking came into focus. 

“Bloody hell,” he whispered, his eyes widening. 

“Theo! What does the locket look like? Describe it.”

“Uh oval shaped, bigger than a galleon, milky white with gold etching…bit gaudy for my taste but it was a different era after all.”

“A big golden S on it?” Ron prodded and Theo’s eyebrows rose.

“Uh yeah, how did you know?”

“Because I’ve seen it.” Ron’s gaze snapped to Hermione and Harry.

“All three of us have. Cleaning out the cupboards, summer before fifth year.” 

“Holy shite!” Hermione cried, “he’s right, Ron’s right, that locket is at Grimmauld Place!” 

Harry jumped up excitedly, pulling on his invisibility cloak in the process.

“I need to run up to the tower and mirror call Sirius. He can ask Kreacher if he’s seen it! Ron you’re bloody brilliant! I’ll be back as soon as I can, keep planning!” 

“Harry’s right, Ron, good on you to think of it! I never would’ve remember that,” Hermione babbled on, unaware of Ron’s ears turning pink with the unexpected praise. 

“Seriously, Weasley, this is huge,” Draco added in in a more solemn voice. “Nice work.”

“Uh thanks everyone,” he said rather sheepishly, pride bubbling up in his chest. “But let’s keep going, don’t want to waste time. Is there anything from Gryffindor?”

Hermione made a face. “No. The research suggests that Gryffindor’s most notable item was his sword, and we all know that isn’t a horcrux since Dumbledore used it to kill one. Also, Tom Riddle was a biased Slytherin, and potentially his heir, there’s no way he’d use a Gryffindor item, magical heirloom or not.”

“Fair.” Ron glanced back at the board. “So what is the remaining horcrux?”

“I think it’s his snake,” Theo spoke up from his spot beside Ginny. 

“I’ve never seen the familiar in person, but based on what Lucius and Severus have said about it, it’s creepy, huge, and is always by his side.” 

“Not to mention it almost killed dad,” Ginny added in, leaning her head onto Theo’s shoulder as she shuddered at the memory.

“All valid points. Mione—can horcruxes be living things?” 

“Well I haven’t seen anything saying that they can’t be, but also I haven’t read much about them at all. Even in the Black, Malfoy, and Nott libraries combined there is very little written on the subject. Too dangerous of information to write down, I’d think. What we do know, is that a horcrux is created through the act of intentional murder. During the process, the soul is split in half, with one piece remaining in the original vessel while the other embeds itself in the object of intent.”

“Well then the snakes as good a guess as any.” Ron’s chalk added it to the final space. 

“Cup, diadem, locket, snake…How do we kill them?”

“Basilisk venom?” Draco suggested. “Seems like it did the trick for Potter.”

“Or the Sword of Gryffindor,” Hermione added. “It’s magical property is that it absorbs the power of everything it defeats. Harry used it to kill the basilisk and therefore the venom is in the sword.” 

“Well, what a stroke of luck for us that I know exactly where we can get our hands on a load of basilisk venom.” 

“You seem to be forgetting the fact that Flint is currently trying to use the chamber as a means to let an army of death eaters into the castle. As far as we know he could already be in there and the basilisk could be long gone,” Hermione argued.

Ron shook his head.

“He hasn’t gotten in there. If he had access to the chamber he would’ve already been in it before Draco went in to confront him in that bathroom. Besides, the chamber only opens using parseltongue, and it’s not exactly a language you can just pick up in passing. He can’t risk a bombarda, even with a silencing charm, because the use of explosive magic sets off alarm spells in the headmasters office in order to prevent attacks.”

“How do you know that? They don’t mention that anywhere in Hogwarts A History!”

“Because Fred and George once tried to elevate a game of exploding snap to make the explosions more intense as part of their product testing and they overdid the charms. Nearly blew up half their dorm room, and Dumbledore and McGonagall were there faster than Lee could even run to get help.” 

Hermione winced and then chuckled. 

“Ah, yeah, I forgot about that.” 

Ron’s eyes flitted to his sister, who was tilting her head. He wasn’t familiar with the thoughtful way she assessed him.

“Ron, you’re really good at this.” 

Again, he blushed. 

“Aw come on Gin, stop it.”

“No! Take the compliment, Ronny. You’re picking up pieces and putting them together faster than everyone else in this room.”

Theo nodded his agreement, so did Hermione and Draco. 

“I’m proud of you. First, for not absolutely losing your head when you found everything out, but also for taking charge. Leadership looks good on you, big brother.” 

The Weasley siblings smiled at one another. Ron opened his mouth to speak, but stopped as Harry suddenly burst through the door. 

“Guys! You’ll never believe what just happened.” 

Harry’s green eyes bounced frantically between his friends. 

“Whoa, mate, calm down and take a breath,” Ron put his hands up placatingly. Harry gulped a fresh lungful of air before pushing on. 

“I called Sirius and told him what Ron remembered about the locket. He summoned Kreacher and asked him about it. And Kreacher lost the plot! Started weeping and muttering, disappeared and then reappeared holding the locket and a letter addressed to Sirius. Said that he’d been waiting years for Sirius to ask for it! Sirius was confused but opened the letter and read it while I was still on the call. It was from Regulus!”

“Regulus? Regulus Black? Sirius’s brother?” Hermione questioned. “But they were estranged. Also Regulus is dead! Sirius told me so himself, said he was killed by Tom.”

“Well, turns out he wasn’t! In the letter Regulus said that when he was a death eater he found out about the locket horcrux and had a change of heart. He discovered it because his mother had volunteered Kreacher’s services to Tom when he initially hid the horcrux, and it almost killed Kreacher in the process. When Regulus found out that Tom had nearly killed his house elf he decided to switch sides. He made Kreacher take him to the spot where the horcrux was hidden so that he could swap it out with a fake. Regulus died during it all, but he gave the real locket to Kreacher and told him to destroy it, and if he couldn’t destroy it he was instructed to give it and the letter to Sirius. Kreacher’s been hiding it ever since!” 

“But why did Kreacher not give it to Sirius sooner?!”

“Probably because Sirius has been a right dolt to him since he came back. Too much bad blood between the two of them. But since Sirius is his master, he couldn’t deny this direct request. Anyway, doesn’t matter. What does matter is that Sirius has the horcrux!” 

“Bloody hell,” Ron spoke almost in a daze. “I can’t believe it was that simple.” 

“Shocking what can be accomplished with proper communication,” Hermione agreed. “But back to what we were talking about before you got here. Harry, we need to get basilisk venom so that Sirius can destroy the locket. Really, we need to harvest enough venom from the corpse to destroy all the horcruxes. And we need to figure out how to do that without getting poisoned ourselves.”

“Mione’s right.”

Ron turned back to the chalkboard which had magically expanded to include a new blank section. 

“We also need to create a plan for how to get the basilisk venom out of Hogwarts and into the hands of the adults. Let’s be honest here, I highly doubt these horcruxes are sitting around forgotten in the castle, and if they’re outside the castle then none of us are going to be the ones to go and get them. Sirius will need to work with Remus and the Malfoys to hunt down the remaining three.” 

“We also need to do all of this without alerting Dumbledore to what we’re doing,” Harry added. “I don’t want him trying to stop the adults from doing it themselves, I’m tired of his secrets. It’s time we have our own.”

“And let us not forget, Dumbledore is dying,” said Theo. “The more he tries to keep from us now is just more that we’d have to work to uncover after his death. I agree with Potter.” 

“Although I agree that Dumbledore doesn’t need to know, I feel like it might be helpful if we let a few more people know about what we’re doing.” Ginny’s voice took an uncharacteristically timid tone, piquing Ron’s interest. 

“Who are you thinking of Ginny?”

“Well, Luna for starters. She may have a reputation for being looney, but, well, she knows things. I think she’s a seer of sorts. Beyond that, she’s a Ravenclaw and might have better insight to where the diadem would be.” 

Ron nodded and the chalk scraped along.

Recruitment:

-Lovegood 

“Who else?”

“Neville. He was with us at the Department of Mysteries and he’s as loyal as they come. Plus he knows all about handling poisonous plants so if there’s anyone who could help Hermione figure out how to store basilisk venom without getting hurt it would be him. Also, it’s only fair that he gets to be involved, Flint did almost kill him with that poisoning stunt.”

Recruitment:

-Lovegood

-Longbottom

“Gin, out with it already. I know there’s someone else and by the look on your face it’s going to be unexpected.”

“I—“ Ginny trailed off. “I think Harry should say the last person.” 

Harry’s head whipped towards her.

“What? Why me?”

She stared at him, blue eyes piercing into green. A conversation was spoken with no words. Hermione appeared nonplussed by what was happening but the Slytherin’s shared a wary glance. Ron felt his stomach twist in anticipation. 

“Blaise Zabini.” Harry said, turning away from his silent conversation to face Ron. 

“Okay, wasn’t expecting that. Why Zabini?”

“Because…” Harry took a shallow breath. “Because we’re together.” 

Ron blinked. 

“You’re…together. Er—like romantically?” 

“Yes...Have been since the spring of fifth year, actually.”

“Oh,” Ron nodded once. “Okay.”

Recruitment:

-Lovegood

-Longbottom

-Zabini 

“Wait. Okay? All you have to say is okay?”

“Oh! Uh sorry. Congratulations?” 

“Ron!”

“Harry!”

“Why are you not reacting to this?”

“Mate, I hate to disappoint you but if you think I’m surprised to find out you’re dating a bloke then you clearly think you’re more secretive than you actually are. I’ve lived with you for six years. I’ve guessed since second year, I’ve known for sure since fourth.” 

Harry’s jaw dropped open, Ron simply let out a laugh.

“You seriously thought I didn’t know? Harry you talked about Cedric for months on end! And not to make things awkward but before I found out he was with Hermione, you also were a bit longwinded about Malfoy too”

Harry’s cheeks tinged pink in shock and embarrassment.

"But-but you never said anything when I started dating Ginny!"

"Well jeez, Harry, just because I knew you liked wizards didn't mean that I knew you didn't like witches too. For all I knew you played for both teams. Plus, it was my sister, I wasn't going to ask about you snogging my sister." Ron made a face, and then kept on. “For what it’s worth, I think it’s great. You can be with whoever you want to be with, even if I now find myself surrounded by snakes. If Zabini wants in then we’ll let him in—“ he glanced at Draco and Theo, whose expressions were unreadable. 

“Right?” 

Draco nodded slowly. “Theo and I have known about you two for a while…we figured it out during our reconnaissance to find the death eater in the castle. If Hermione and Ginny trust them then so do we.”

Ron clapped once. 

“So it’s decided—we invite Luna, Neville, and Blaise to join us. We bring them up to speed, and then we start to plan again. Let’s try to meet up again in a few days? I know this is important, but if I don’t spend some time doing actual homework I’m never going to make any NEWTS. On top of that if I’m gone from the common room another night with a flimsy excuse Lav might kill me.” 

“Ron, do you want to invite Lavender too?” 

“Oh, thanks for the offer Mione, but I’d rather keep her out of this for as long as possible. It’s not that I don’t trust her, I do, but Lav is still so innocent, you know? Her biggest concerns are passing classes and learning the newest nail color changing charms from Witch Weekly. I don’t want to burden her with all this if I don’t have to, and I don’t want to bring her into it just for the hell of it. This is life or death stuff.”

Hermione smiled softly and Harry blew out a breath. 

“Ron, when the hell did you get so mature?”

Draco choked on a laugh, not expecting Harry’s comment. Theo couldn’t hold his in and let out a loud guffaw before muttering his agreement.

Ron smiled. 

“Well, Hermione has always told me I needed to grow up. I had to listen to her eventually.” 

+++

The group gathered their supplies and checked the Maurader’s Map before making their way out of the room for the night. Ron took up the tail end of the Gryffindor gang, letting Ginny and Hermione march in front of him, arms linked. Beside him, Harry seemed lost in his own thoughts. He didn’t blame him, they had covered quite a bit of ground that week. Ron took a steadying breath. It had been a good night, very productive, but he felt a niggling at the back of his brain. There was something he was missing, a lingering piece of the puzzle that still needed to be put into its place. 

Try as he might, Ron couldn’t push the feeling away. It prodded at the edges of his consciousness as he tossed and turned that night. In an effort to find the cause, he reviewed everything they’d covered that day. Voldemort made six horcruxes, two of them were of familial importance, three of them related to the founders, and one of them was his snake. Maybe. In order to create a horcrux, you have to murder something. The murder cleaves the soul in two, and the split part embeds into the object….murder, two objects, soul pieces. Ugh. Something is missing. What am I missing? 

Ron finally drifted into an uneasy sleep, his unanswered questions still ringing in his ears. 

Chapter 61

Luna and Neville slipped nervously into the Room of Requirement, the door sealing behind them like a vault. The room had arranged itself into an arrangement the pair had never seen before. Different than the meetings with DA, it was a warm but unmistakably strategic space. In some ways, Neville thought that it looked like the Gryffindor common room, but it was missing the red and gold decorations. There were a cluster of couches and lounge chairs, a glowing hearth, and the center piece of it all— a large chalk board outlining what looked to be elaborate plans. Hermione stood immediately when she saw them.

“Thanks for coming,” she said, her facial expressions tight. “We… have a lot to explain.”

Neville exchanged a wary glance with Luna. “Yeah, we figured. Ron said it was important. Life-or-death important.”

Ron nodded grimly. “Er—yeah. Pretty much.”

Harry gestured for them to sit. “What we’re about to tell you stays between us. No exceptions. Hermione said she could enchant another piece of parchment but I told her it wasn’t necessary. We can trust you, right?”

“Of course,” Neville replied. Luna simply nodded, folding herself gracefully onto a cushion. “Will this explain why you all keep disappearing for hours?“

Neville frowned, looking around at the tense faces. “Someone just come out and say it. What’s going on? Why are Malfoy and Nott here? And why did Hermione look like she was going to cry when she said she needed to explain?”

Hermione took a steadying breath.

“We’re hunting horcruxes.”

Blank stares met her statement.

“Dark magical objects that hold pieces of Voldemort’s soul,” Harry clarified.

Neville’s jaw actually dropped. “I—he—come again?”

Luna tilted her head thoughtfully. “Well that does explain the wrackspurts. Cursed objects attract them. They’ve been flittering around the Gryffindor dining table for weeks.”

Ron blinked. “The wrack—sure, okay. Let’s go with that.”

Neville rubbed his hands over his face.

“So you’re all working together… destroying bits of You-Know-Who? In your spare time? This is what’s been going on?”

“Pretty much,” Ginny confirmed. “Welcome to the party.”

Luna glanced around at the group, eyes blue and bright. “It’s lovely you all trust each other so deeply. And the romantic pairings are quite obvious now that I’m seeing them in context.”

Theo sputtered. “Pairings?”

Luna nodded matter-of-factly. “Yes. Hermione and Draco. Ginny and Theo. Harry and—“ her eyes unfocused for a moment, as though seeing something no one else could. “Oh, Harry and Blaise. How delightful!”

Draco nearly choked. “How—”

Hermione covered her laugh with both hands. “Just go with it, Draco.”

Neville, still processing the part about horcruxes, turned slowly to Theo.

”Despite her eclectic way of saying it, I guess the pairs do explain why you’re here. I’ve been saying for ages that you’re not really on the wrong side. I mean, the moment you brought Ginny to the Janus Thickney floor at St Mungos last year? Even though you claimed to have never spoken before? Suspicious.”

Theo rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. “It wasn’t… suspicious.”

“Oh, it absolutely was,” Neville insisted. Then he gestured between Theo and Hermione. “Funny enough, the Hogwarts rumor mill has a whole shipping situation about you two.”

Draco nearly fell off his seat. “WHAT?”

“Yeah, started when they became charms partners. Got worse after they both helped Katie with the necklace. There’s a betting pool going about it. Two galleon buy in for guessing the date they’re going to go public  and an extra sickle for guessing how Harry and Ron are going to react.”

“Absolutely not! No. That’s blasphemy! I—“

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Honestly, Draco, calm down.”

Neville snorted. “Relax, mate. I always knew it was Theo and Ginny. Anyone with eyes did.”

Ginny smirked proudly; Theo looked at Draco with a devilish grin. This was certainly not the last he’d be hearing of this.

Ron cleared his throat loudly, reclaiming the room. “Right. Before Malfoy has a coronary, let’s get back on track.” He pointed to the board behind him, currently covered in information about the potential horcrux objects. “Horcrux hunt update. There is a lot of conjecture on the others, but we are sure of the locket,” he tapped on the board with his wand. “We need basilisk venom to kill it—which means we need to get back into the Chamber of Secrets.”

Neville raised a brow. “That place still exists?”

“Unfortunately,” Ron said. “And since Hermione is the only one who’s read fifteen books on venom extraction—”

“Fifteen is an overexagerration,” Hermione protested.

Ron continued, “—and Neville knows more about growing deadly plants than any sane wizard should, I want you two to figure out how to harvest basilisk venom without, you know, dying horribly.”

Neville nodded slowly. “So… minimal maiming?”

“Preferably none,” Hermione added. “The venom is corrosive enough to melt stone. We’ll need a foolproof containment spell.”

“Or enchanted dragon hide gloves,” Neville suggested.

Hermione brightened. “Oh! Actually—that might work.”

Luna suddenly lifted a finger, pointing towards the board. “It’s funny,” she said lightly. “Voldemort aiming for seven horcruxes. He exceeded his expectations.”

Everyone froze.

“Luna,” Harry said carefully. “What do you mean by that?”

She just smiled at the chalkboard. “Dunno, Harry. Sometimes the world whispers.”

Across the circle, Ginny turned to Harry with a piercing stare. “Okay, speaking of whispers, where’s Blaise? Didn’t you invite him?”

Harry stiffened. “He’s… around.”

Ginny narrowed her eyes. “Harry.”

He rubbed the back of his head. “Can you just drop it?” His voice cracked in a way that made everyone glance up.

Ginny softened but only slightly.

“Fine. But we’re going to run late. Maybe you should take the cloak, check the Map, and run to the kitchens. Ask Dobby to send dinner up here for all of us.”

Harry practically bolted, grateful for the escape.

The moment the latch clicked shut behind him, Ginny’s entire demeanor changed. Her chin lifted. Her eyes sharpened. Her voice came out like a command from a seasoned general.

“You two. With me.” She pointed at Draco and Theo. “Now. Everyone else stays here.”

Theo and Draco exchanged a single apprehensive glance, but followed. Ginny flicked her wand sharply, disillusioning the three of them with shimmering waves of magic, and then marched them through quiet corridors and up several staircases. They stopped outside an abandoned classroom in the Astronomy Tower, dust drifting lazily in the moonlit air that seeped through tall windows. Inside, Blaise Zabini sat on a lone desk as though he’d been expecting trouble.

“Ginevra Molly Weasley,” he said with a cunning smile, the torchlight catching on his dark, amused eyes.

“Blaise Lysander Zabini,” Ginny purred back, her tone velvet-wrapped danger. Theo nudged Draco’s arm lightly, and Draco gave the smallest shrug, he was as in the dark as Theo was.

“You’re joined by unusual company tonight,” Blaise commented. His voice remained light, but both Slytherins recognized the probing edge beneath it.

“Am I?” Ginny’s reply was equally airy. She stepped inside, her silhouette framed by the flickering light, every movement loose yet predatory.

“To what,” Blaise drawled, folding his hands elegantly before him, “do I owe the pleasure of this interesting little trio?”

“I hear you’re in the business of secrets,” Ginny said. “And I have a deal for you.”

“Ginevra.” He tutted softly. “Surely someone has informed you—I make the deals.”

“Maybe with other people’s secrets,” she allowed, “but the secret I want to trade is your own.”

Blaise blinked, just once, but it was a crack in the polished marble of his composure. Theo and Draco both caught it. Ginny stepped closer, her blue eyes gleaming, a lioness cornering her prey.

“Here’s how this is going to go,” she said. “I’m going to tell you what I think, and then you can decide how much your secret is worth to you.”

Blaise studied her, then nodded.

“Stop being a coward,” Ginny bit out, tone fierce. “I know. Draco knows, Theo knows—we all know. We know that he asked you to show tonight, and even though he won’t admit it, we also know you refused. My question to you is why.”

Blaise inhaled, lips parting to answer, but Ginny held up a finger.

“And before you try lying—don’t. I grew up with six older brothers. I can spot a lie while I’m asleep.” Her voice dipped to a razor-thin whisper. “Probably even better than you.”

For a long moment, neither blinked. Then Blaise’s shoulders sank a fraction.

“What do you want from me, Ginny?”

Draco nearly choked. In six years, he’d never seen Blaise Zabini yield to anyone.

Ginny flicked her wand upward, the motion frighteningly casual. “Make the deal.”

Another quiet sigh.

“A deal is made.”

Red light glowed between their wands like a thread of molten iron.

“I want you to be the person he thinks you are. Show up for him, Zabini,” Ginny said. “He already thinks he’s carrying the world alone. He already thinks he’s letting everyone down. Don’t prove his fears right. Don’t teach him that you won’t stay.”

Blaise flinched—barely, but enough.

“It’s not that simple—”

“It’s as simple as you make it. It’s just a matter of how much or how little you truly care.”

Silence swallowed the room. The torches crackled.

“Meet us in the Room of Requirement in one hour,” she continued. “Bring your snark, I don’t care. But if you let him down again, Merlin help you.”

Blaise exhaled once, then asked, almost cautiously, “Do I get to know what we’re doing?”

Ginny shook her head. “Not everything. Not yet. But I can tell you this—you’re going to put those secrets of yours to good use. All of us are.”

She turned, shoving Draco and Theo toward the door.

“I didn’t expect this from you, Ginevra,” Blaise called after them.

She glanced over her shoulder with a vicious smile.

“Blaise, you have no idea what I’m capable of.”

They were two floors down before anyone spoke again.

“Bloody hell, sweetheart,” Theo breathed. “You’re terrifying.”

Ginny looked genuinely offended. “Theo, I’d have thought you knew that for years.”

The tension snapped, and the three of them dissolved into breathless, echoing laughter as they descended the staircase.

+++

Ginny, Draco, and Theo slipped back into the Room of Requirement just as the last of the dinner trays materialized on a long, conjured table. The group was still crowded around the chalkboard. No one looked up right away, except Harry, who shot them a quick glance, eyes flicking briefly to what would’ve been Blaise’s empty seat, then away again. He didn’t ask where they had gone, and Ginny, mercifully, offered nothing.

Ron straightened, tapping his wand against the board. “Brilliant. You’re back. Let’s get to business.” He pointed to the marked description of the Chamber of Secrets, enlarged and glowing. “We know what we need, basilisk venom. We also know it’s in here. What we need now is timing.”

Neville leaned over the board, squinting. “So we’re actually doing this? Like… soon-soon?”

Hermione nodded. “The sooner the better. Until that locket is destroyed, it’s dangerous to carry. Even touching it too long is a risk, and I don’t want it around Sirius or Remus for any longer than necessary.”

Theo raised a brow. “So what’s the plan? Sneak in? Explode something? Set a decoy fire?”

Ginny smirked. “You just want an excuse to set something on fire.”

Theo shrugged, entirely unashamed. “I contain multitudes.”

Neville snorted. “More like you contain chaos.”

“A chaos gremlin,” Luna chimed in her whimsical tone.

Theo’s entire face lit up. “Oh my Merlin, that is my new favorite title. Say it again.”

“No,” Draco said instantly.

“Yes! Luna pleaseeeee,” Theo countered.

Ginny flicked his ear. “Focus, gremlin.”

Ron cleared his throat loudly to regain command. “Right. The core team going into the Chamber will be Harry, Hermione, and me.”

Harry blinked in surprise. “Me?”

“Uh yeah, mate. Pretty sure you’re the only one here who can speak parseltongue,” Ron said.

Hermione added, “And Ron remembers how to get around the rock slide. I’ll handle the gloves, the containers and the venom extraction spells.”

Neville looked uneasy. “What do you need the rest of us to do?”

Ron pointed around the group like a general distributing assignments. “Neville—you’ll run interference in Gryffindor Tower. If anyone wonders where we are, you make up something realistic.”

Neville nodded firmly. “I can do that.”

Ron turned to Ginny and Theo. “You two are going to create a distraction. Something big, loud, chaotic. Something that keeps the castle’s eyes off the lower floors.”

Theo lit up like a Christmas tree. “Chaos gremlin duties activated!”

Ginny sighed fondly. “Let’s not get expelled.”

“No promises,” Theo smirked.

Before Ron could continue, the door creaked open behind them.

Blaise Zabini stepped inside.

Harry rose halfway from his seat, shock cutting through his expression. “Blaise?”

Ginny didn’t flinch. “You made it.”

Blaise gave her a pointed look. “You left me little choice, Weasley.”

Draco snorted. “She does that.”

Theo clapped Blaise’s shoulder. “Come on in Blaise. Sit before you cause Potter to start malfunctioning.”

Blaise, in an uncharacteristic show of emotion, grinned, and sank into the empty spot beside Harry who still appeared to be in shock. He reached over to take his hand. To the untrained eye, the gesture was simple, but the Slytherins in the room saw it for exactly what it was—a declaration. Whatever would come next, they knew, Harry would no longer face it alone.

Draco held back his smirk and instead launched into a quick, clipped explanation about horcruxes, basilisk fangs, chambers, and distractions—Blaise listened silently, his expression unreadable.

When Draco finished, Harry cleared his throat. “I didn’t think you were coming.”

Blaise’s eyes softened just barely, bringing Harry’s hand up to his lips. “Yes, well,” he murmured, “someone recently reminded me that you’re worth showing up for.”

Harry’s breath hitched, color rising faintly to his cheeks.

Luna, who had been drawing constellations in midair with her wand, beamed. “The nargles are singing praises to your happy reunion. It’s very touching.”

Harry sputtered while Blaise managed to simultaneously look shocked and composed.

Ron clapped his hands, dragging the group somewhat forcibly back to the strategy. “Great, everyone is now here and the nargles are singing, let’s lock this in. Saturday. Early afternoon. We move then.”

Draco crossed his arms. “Fine. But what about Flint? You know he’s going to be prowling around the second floor corridor on Saturday. He’s obsessed with finding a way into that chamber.”

Blaise gave a slow, dangerous smile. “Don’t worry about Flint.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” Blaise said smoothly, “that Marcus Flint has shared a secret with me in the past, and I happen to know just how to use it against him.”

Draco sighed. “Of course you do.”

Ginny grinned. “I knew he would be useful.”

Ron spoke with finality. “Alright, then. Saturday it is.”

++++

Saturday arrived with the sort of nervous excitement that had Hermione hovering between Oh Merlin this might work and We are all absolutely going to be expelled.

The Room of Requirement buzzed with energy as the full group gathered—Ginny, Draco, Theo, Luna, Neville, Blaise, and the golden trio. Ron stood at the front with a roll of parchment like a king holding court.

“Right,” Ron said, nodding tersely. “Everyone knows their roles. We move at exactly eleven-thirty. Synchronization is key. No improvising, unless you’re Theo.”

Theo saluted him. “Chaos gremlin reporting for duty.”

“You’re far too proud of that title,” Draco muttered.

“Would you like me to come up with another instead?” Theo asked sweetly.

“Absolutely not.”

Hermione flipped her wand between her fingers and stared at the two wizards exasperatedly. “Let’s just try not to blow up a hallway,” she said, eyeing Theo in particular.

“Well where’s the fun in that?” Theo grinned .

++++

Theo and Ginny set off first, walking casually down the corridor until they reached the central landing near the main set of moving staircases. In a few minutes, most of the school would pass through the hallway to get to the Great Hall for lunch.

“Ready?” Ginny asked.

“Always ready sweetheart,” Theo replied, pulling out a velvet pouch so stuffed with something it was practically pulsating magic.

“What is that?” she asked.

Theo beamed.

“Oh this old thing? This is a hybrid product. A bit of a fireworks–confetti–illusion charm bomb that I may or may not have invented during a very boring lecture series on Troll Governance in History of Magic.”

Ginny sighed. “Sometimes I worry about how destructive it’s going to be when I properly introduce you to Fred and George.”

She made a sweeping gesture with her hand.

“Alright, go ahead my little chaos gremlin. Do what you do best.”

He tossed it into the air, and then pulled Ginny back with him to shelter behind a suit of armor. The pouch burst with a spectacular BOOM—not loud enough to be dangerous, but certainly enough to echo through half the castle. Purple fireworks spiraled out in the shape of leaping frogs, and confetti rained from the rafters.

Students shrieked, laughed, and pointed. A few younger years began dancing in the confetti storm that rained down with dizzying force.

Ginny, giving in to the fun of it all, added a charm of her own. Suddenly the frog-fireworks began hopping after students, chasing them with affectionate ribbets.

Theo threw his arms wide and whisper shouted. “Behold! My masterpiece!”

“It’s ridiculous,” Ginny said.

“It’s beautiful,” Theo corrected.

Professors burst into the corridor shouting for order, but the scene was so chaotic they could not find the source of the magic nor the parties responsible.

Perfect. No one would be paying attention to three missing Gryffindors sneaking off.

+++

Meanwhile, Harry, Ron, and Hermione  entered the second floor women’s lavatory.

Upon their entry, Myrtle floated up from a stall.

“Haaaaarryyyy,” she sighed dramatically.

Harry blushed. “Hi, Myrtle.”

Ron snorted. “Don’t encourage her.”

“You never visit anymore,” Myrtle said, drifting closer. “Not since you splashed water all over me during that dreadful second-year adventure. I thought we had something special.”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck.

“Myrtle, we’re actually here for something important—”

“Oh, fine,” Myrtle moaned, swooping away. “No one appreciates me.”

Hermione giggled at Harry.

“She really does have a crush on you.”

“Please don’t remind me.”

“Right,” Ron announced, changing the subject. “One chamber, one giant dead snake, one venom extraction, zero catastrophes. Easy.”

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Honestly, Ron.”

“What? I like to set expectations low. Makes it easier when we only nearly die.”

She took a steadying breath, stepping up beside him.

“Okay. Harry, speak Parseltongue.”

Harry leaned toward the sink. “Open.”

Ron groaned. “Good Godric, that still gives me chills. Sounds like you’re spitting out gravel.”

“Thank you, Ron, you really know how compliment a bloke,” Harry replied, as the sinks spiraled apart and the pipe gaped open.

Ron peered down. “We’re sliding again, aren’t we?”

Hermione nodded grimly.

“I’ve heard you both explain this place a dozen times, but I’ve gotta say, seeing it in person, part of me is almost thankful that I was petrified and didn’t have to come along the first time.”

Ron snorted and then put his hand up in a two finger salute. “Alright, see you two on the other side.”

He pushed off.

Hermione went next with a squeak.

Harry followed, muttering, “Why is it always us…”

They landed in a heap at the bottom.

Ron shuddered at the wet stone floor. “I forgot how gross this place is.”

“It’s a thousand-year-old sewer,” Hermione said. “Cleanliness wasn’t a priority.”

The trio dusted themselves off as best as they could and stealthily crept their way along the passageway, deeper into the center of the chamber. At last, they reached the basilisk’s massive, skeletal remains.

Ron sighed dramatically.

“There he is—good old murder noodle.”

Harry choked on a laugh. “Please never call it that again.”

Hermione, ignoring her friends antics, slipped on the pair of dragon-hide gloves hidden in the pockets of her robes. From her other pocket, she also retrieved three crystal vials already encased in containment charms and bound with unbreakable runes. “Let’s make this quick,” she said. “The venom is still magically potent.”

She murmured an extraction spell, and the basilisk venom coiled upward in shimmering droplets out of the fangs and then slid neatly into the vials. With a final flick of her wrist the vials were corked and tucked back into her robe.

Ron watched, impressed. “That is equal parts brilliant and terrifying.”

Hermione smiled. “All done.”

Suddenly, a distant clatter echoed through the chamber.

Harry stiffened. “Did you hear—”

“Nope,” Ron cut in quickly. “Nope. We are not staying to find out. Time to go. Up and out this place, now.”

+++

Blaise Zabini stood motionless in the shadowed corridor outside the concealed entrance to the Slytherin common room, the cool shimmer of his disillusionment charm clinging to his skin like icy rain. He kept his breath shallow, his wand loose in his hand, ears tuned for the sound of approaching footsteps.

They came—light, soft, and utterly out of place in the dungeons. Featherlight and entirely unanticipated.

He froze.

Walk past. Walk past.

Instead, the footsteps stopped right beside him.

“What exactly are we waiting for, Blaise?” came Luna Lovegood’s dreamy voice, far too close.

His shoulders twitched.

“How in Merlin’s name did you notice me, Lovegood?” he muttered, his low growl echoing faintly off the stone. “And why are you down here?”

“I had a dream that you needed a friend,” she replied simply. She crouched beside him, pale eyes peering unerringly into the spot where he stood hidden. “And it seems I was right. You look like someone who could use a bit of company.”

Blaise sighed through his nose. “Of course I do.”

Luna tilted her head. “Would you mind disillusioning me as well? I’m not very good at it. It’s difficult to make myself invisible when my aura objects to being ignored.”

He didn’t bother responding. With a flick of his wand, he tapped the air above her head. Magic shimmered down her body like falling dust, bending light around her until she vanished from view, though Blaise could still feel her presence, calm and steady.

“Thank you,” she said cheerfully, utterly undeterred by his silence. “Now, what are we doing?”

“We,” he corrected coolly, “are doing nothing. I am watching for Flint. If he leaves the common room, I stop him.”

“Stop him with what?” she asked pleasantly, as though discussing her favorite tea flavors.

He opened his mouth to snap something back, but the wall beside them rippled. Stone melted away to reveal the heavy wooden door of the Slytherin common room. A moment later it swung open.

Even without seeing, Blaise knew the cadence of those stomping, self-important footsteps.

Marcus Flint.

Perfect.

He flicked his wand, whispering, “Serpentimagis.”

A pulse of magic burst from his wandtip and rippled across the floor. Illusory serpents spilled outward, dozens, then hundreds, sleek and glistening, their scales catching in the light as they writhed and coiled over one another in a living carpet.

Blaise waited.

One second. Two. A strangled scream tore through the hallway.

“S-SNAKES!”

The door slammed shut with such force it rattled the stones.

Blaise finally let out a quiet breath, tension leaking from his shoulders.

Beside him, Luna giggled, a light, silvery sound.

“How ironic,” she mused. “He fears serpents but serves a man who fashioned himself into one.”

Blaise gave the invisible girl a wary side-eye. “You have a rather twisted sense of humor, Lovegood.”

“Oh, I know.” Her voice warmed, still bright and serene. “It’s one of your favorite things about me.”

“Is it now?” Blaise asked, voice dry.

“Not yet,” she amended. “But it will.”

And for perhaps the first time in his well-controlled life, Blaise Zabini found himself entirely, completely without words.

+++

They returned to the Room of Requirement victorious. Ginny and Theo were still exhilarated from their diversion; Blaise looked smug; Neville proud; and Luna happy.

Ron flopped onto a couch. “Brilliant work everyone. Venom acquired, and we’re one step closer to winning.”

Hermione nodded in agreement. “Just a drop will destroy a horcrux, and I got three vials worth just incase.”

“Now we just need to get the venom to Sirius and Remus.”

Draco, who had been pacing in thought, turned sharply. “Actually… I have an idea.”

Everyone looked at him.

Draco continued, “We can’t leave the castle outside of holiday breaks and we also can’t send things through mirror call. But we can use something, or shall I say someone, to deliver the package for us.” He lifted one of the enchanted vials. “Let’s use a house elf. They can go places we can’t.”

Blaise raised an eyebrow. “Sirius Black would trust a house-elf delivery?”

Draco smirked. “He’ll trust this one.”

Understanding dawned on Harry’s face. “Kreacher.”

“Exactly,” Draco said. “As the named heir to the Black Estate, Potter should be able to summon Kreacher. We get him here and then send the venom back with him to Grimmauld Place. No risk. No trace.”

Ron stared at him. “Bloody hell, mate. That’s genius.”

Ginny nodded. “Yeah… that could work.”

Theo slung an arm around Draco’s shoulders. “Look at you. Brains, cheekbones, and solutions.”

Draco shoved him off. “Get off me Theo.”

But his ears were pink.

Ron leaned back in his seat and stared at his chalkboard with a self satisfied grin. The magic chalk checking off each completed step. His gaze flicked to Harry.

“We stand a fighting chance when it’s all of us together, mate.”

Luna twirled a strand of hair. “The nargles agree. The future is humming.”

Harry looked around the room—his friends, old, new, and somewhere in between—and felt something warm settle in his chest.

They had tools.

They had allies.

They had a plan.

And Voldemort truly had no idea what was coming.

Chapter 62

Narcissa 
Grimmauld Place always felt like a house holding its breath.

Even now, years after she had last set foot inside its walls, the shadows seemed too still, as if waiting for the next tragedy to carve itself into the floorboards. She thought back to her childhood, of the nights spent hiding in the upstairs room with her sisters and cousins, fearing the unfamiliar men that wore silver masks prowling the floors below. This house knew not how to nurture, only how to fear. Yet tonight, it was not fear that curled in Narcissa’s chest. It was something far sharper.

She stared at the small glass vial Remus had set on the table, the basilisk venom swirling within like living smoke.

The venom the children had retrieved.

The children.

Her stomach twisted.

Lucius must have sensed the tension radiating off her; his left hand slid over hers beneath the table. “Cissa,” he murmured quietly, “you’re shaking.”

“I am not,” she whispered back, though she was. “I am… frustrated.”

“Worried,” he corrected softly. “As you always are when it comes to Draco.”

Narcissa’s jaw tightened. “They were children handling basilisk venom. Basilisk venom! One drop can kill an erumpent, and Hermione, our Hermione, was responsible for obtaining it! I—“

She broke off, unable to continue.

Across from them, Remus was organizing protective wards, ensuring that nothing would escape the room. Sirius was on the mirror speaking to Harry and Ron. The rest of the children were gathered on the glass behind the pair, still at Hogwarts but refusing to be left out of what was happening.

Lucius squeezed her hand. “They’re not children anymore, Cissa.”

“They should be,” she said bitterly.

“Yes,” he agreed, “but they’re doing their part. We all are. So that they might still have a future left.”

Her throat constricted at that. She thought again of Draco, now fully visible on Sirius’s mirror call—taller, sharper-edged, weary in ways he should never have had to be. Hermione was showing Sirius the book they had used to preserve the venom, her hands moving animatedly. Draco nodded along, a small smile pulling his lips upward as Theo snickered at something with Ginny behind them.

A vision of a different group of students ran unbidden through her mind. Another head of messy black hair, a quiet boy with scars, a different set of Mercury eyes that twinkled with mischievous delight. Her past, her friends. Pranks. Classwork. Hogsmeade dates. Back before the threat of danger and war. A childhood.

Her children deserved that life.

She inhaled slowly. “I merely wish they faced less… peril.”

Lucius kissed her knuckles. “So do I. But they survived the task, as they have survived all the ones before it. And now it’s our turn.”

Remus stepped toward them. “We’re ready.”

The adults gathered around the table where the horcrux lay. The locket pulsed faintly, dark, oily magic writhing beneath the surface like a trapped heartbeat.

Sirius leaned over it with a wrinkled nose.

“Ugh. I didn’t realize how ugly this thing is.”

Remus sighed. “Pads—”

“No, really,” Sirius insisted. “It looks like someone designed jewelry while being violently allergic to taste.”

Through the mirror, Draco snorted.

Sirius poked the table near the locket, not quite touching it. “And look at it pulsating like that. Revolting. I’ve had cursed boils that twitched less.”

Draco raised a brow. “How many cursed boils have you had, exactly?”

“That,” Sirius said primly, “is private medical information.”

Narcissa pinched the bridge of her nose, though a smile tugged at her lips. “Sirius, please stop antagonizing the horcrux.”

“I’m not antagonizing it. I’m insulting it. Very different. Besides, we’re about to murder it, might as well send it off with an identity crisis.”

Narcissa bit back an inappropriate laugh. “I hardly think it has an identity to begin with.”

“Exactly!” Sirius spread his arms. “It’s the least we can do. A little pre-death character building. ‘Hello, I’m an abomination made of soul sludge, and I resemble a tacky heirloom your great-aunt would hide behind porcelain kittens.’”

“Theo, are we sure that Sirius isn’t your father?” Ginny asked dryly from the background.

“Hmm,” Theo pretended to mull the question over beside her. “I mean it would make sense. We’re both incredibly handsome, great hair, the ability to bring levity to even the most treacherous of situations. That may be something to look into, Gin. In fact—“

Lucius interjected, “Can we focus?”

Remus cleared his throat besides a now grinning Sirius. “Right. Let’s do this.”

Narcissa straightened her shoulders and then held out her hand. “Give me the vial.”

Sirius blinked. “Are you sure you want to be the one to do it, Cissa?”

“Yes.” Her voice did not waver. She wouldn’t permit it to. “I was part of the world that allowed these horrors to be created. I will be part of ending them.”

No one argued.

Sirius passed her a dragon-hide glove. “Put this on. And don’t listen to anything it tries.”

She managed the barest ghost of a smirk. “You forget who raised me. I am accustomed to ignoring unpleasant voices.”

Still, his gaze lingered on her with a seriousness she wasn’t used to receiving from him. “Be careful, cousin.”

Narcissa uncorked the vial. The venom glistened like liquid moonlight. She held it above the locket. For one moment. only one, the house was silent.

Then she poured one drop. The reaction was immediate.

The metal shrieked as though alive, writhing violently. A burst of dark smoke exploded outward, slamming into Narcissa like a physical blow. She stumbled back as the room blurred—And then she wasn’t in Grimmauld Place anymore.

She stood in a white expanse.

A woman appeared before her. Red hair, green eyes, and a softness Narcissa remembered with painful clarity.

Lily.

Lily Evans Potter stood only feet away, looking as young and vibrant as the day she last saw her, yet her expression was nothing like Narcissa remembered.

Her eyes were filled with disappointment. With accusation.

“You failed me, Cissa.”

Narcissa’s breath hitched. “Lily—”

“You promised to watch out for him!” Lily said, her voice echoing unnaturally. “You said if anything happened, you’d protect Harry.”

“I tried—”

“You didn’t try,” Lily spat. “You stood by while he suffered. You let Voldemort rule your home. You let him hunt my son. You are no friend of mine. You are a coward. A traitor!”

Narcissa’s knees nearly buckled.

The words sliced straight through the weakest part of her.

“No,” she whispered. “Please, Lily—”

The vision advanced on her, reaching for her with hands of smoke.

“You failed him, and you failed me.”

“NARCISSA!”

The shout cracked the illusion like glass.

Sirius’s voice was loud, furious and real.

The vision flickered.

“DON’T LISTEN TO IT!” Sirius roared from somewhere far away. “IT’S LYING! KILL THE DAMN THING!”

Lucius’s voice joined his, strong and desperate, “Cissa, come back to us!”

Narcissa drew in a ragged breath.

She looked again at the apparition.

Not Lily, never Lily. Lily had been fierce, compassionate, and unyielding. She would never speak with such cruelty.

This thing was Voldemort. A piece of him. A parasite wearing a beloved face.

Anger, white and pure, ignited in her chest.

“I did what I could,” she hissed, stepping forward instead of back. “And I am doing more now than you ever expected of me.”

The locket-specter snarled.

Narcissa poured a second drop of venom.

A scream ripped the air apart and the world snapped back.

Grimmauld Place whirled into focus as the locket split open, smoke pouring from its cracked form before dissolving into a blackened metal lump.

Silence.

Narcissa’s breathing shook.

Sirius moved first, crossing to her in three strides. “Are you alright?”

She pressed a trembling palm to the edge of the table. “It showed me Lily.”

Sirius’s face softened, not pity, but understanding. He placed a hand on her shoulder. “Lily loved you. She trusted you. What you did, what you’re doing now, would matter more to her than anything you regret.”

Her eyes stung. “I didn’t protect him. I didn’t protect any of you!”

“You did the best you could,” Sirius said firmly. “You’ve lied to Voldemort’s face time and time again to save lives. Lily would’ve called that bravery. She’d have thanked you.”

Narcissa swallowed hard. “It’s not enough.”

“I think it is.”

The unexpected voice came out of the mirror that now lay on the table. In the chaos, the adults had forgotten the children were still watching. Narcissa walked forward, picking up the mirror with a shaking hand.

“Harry?”

“Hi Mrs. Malfoy,” Harry said, solemn but polite.

“Call me Aunt Cissa, Harry. It’s what I should have been to you.”

Despite it all, the boy smiled, and that smile simultaneously broke and healed the woman’s heart.

“I’m sure that everyone tells you that you look just like your father,” she whispered, “but they’re wrong. You have your mother’s eyes, and more importantly, her smile. She would’ve loved that.”

Harry grinned at her fully now as her eyes filled with tears.

“I’m so sorry Harry.”

He shook his head.

“No, don’t do that, don’t apologize.”

“I should’ve been there for you. I promised to protect you.”

“And you’re protecting me now,” he argued. “You couldn’t have taken me when I was a baby, you know that. It would’ve ruined your appearances as a spy and also Dumbledore never would’ve allowed it. He didn’t follow any of my parents wishes, he left me with the Dursleys when he could’ve left me with Remus. Or better yet, he could’ve told the Wizengamot that Sirius was innocent and spared him a life of misery! None of that is on you.”

“But everything you’ve been through! The basilisk, the Triwizard Tournament—“

“Again, all things that happened while I was in a school where other adults should be watching out for me. I don’t blame you, I forgive you.”

Narcissa flung a hand up to her mouth in an effort to hide her sob.

“Thank you, Harry. I—I’d like to get to know you better, if you’re amenable.”

Again, Harry smiled. His mother’s love shining through the expression and hitting Narcissa right in the heart.

“I’d like that, Aunt Cissa.”

Narcissa handed the mirror back to Sirius as Lucius moved to stand beside her, brushing his fingers along her arm in a show of support. Sirius nodded eyes shining.

Remus cleared his throat and lifted a stack of parchment. “We need to make progress locating the rest. I’ve gathered credible historical reference photos for the artifacts tied to the Hogwarts founders.”

He spread the photographs across the table. Narcissa noted an an ornate cup, a heavy diadem, and a drawing of a large snake.

Everyone leaned in. But Narcissa froze.

The cup, small, golden, engraved with a badger, stared back at her like an old ghost.

Her breath left her in a soft gasp.

The others noticed immediately.

“What is it?” Remus asked.

Narcissa touched the photograph with a gloved fingertip. “I’ve seen this cup before.”

Sirius frowned. “Where?”

“In…” She hesitated, dread curling in her stomach. “…in Bellatrix’s vault. At Gringotts.”

The room fell utterly silent.

Then through the mirror Hermione whispered, “Oh no.”

Draco exhaled slowly. “Well. That’s going to be fun.”

Ron groaned. “Breaking into Gringotts. Brilliant.”

But Remus was already pulling out a map. “Then we have our next target.”

Sirius nodded grimly. “We’ll need a plan. A damn good one.”

Narcissa looked again at the ruined remains of the locket.

The war was far from over.

But tonight, she had faced something monstrous and survived.

Perhaps she could again.

“We’ll retrieve the cup,” she said quietly. “Whatever it takes.”

And for the first time since entering Grimmauld Place, she felt something like steadiness settle beneath her ribs.

A beginning.

A path forward.

What must be faced, she would face. Alongside the people who, once were and always would be, her family.

Notes:

A fun switch up with Narcissa’s POV. Only a few chapters left!

Chapter 63

Several weeks had passed since the night at Grimmauld Place, the night Narcissa Malfoy shattered a piece of Voldemort’s very soul.

Life at Hogwarts resumed as if nothing extraordinary had happened, though every single member of their secret alliance knew better. Beneath the routine of classes, essays, Quidditch practices, and the occasional prank from Theo, tension simmered like a cauldron ready to detonate.

The adults had decided that the next horcrux, the cup in Bellatrix Lestrange’s vault, would require a different approach. A dangerous one, and Polyjuice had become the cornerstone of the plan.

Narcissa would pose as Bellatrix. Sirius, to the absolute glee of no one except Sirius, would impersonate Rodolphus Lestrange (“Finally,” he’d declared, “a role that requires absolutely no charm!”). They would need a month. Four long weeks for Remus to brew the Polyjuice, and for Narcissa to discreetly secure hair from both her sister and her brother-in-law without sparking suspicion.

Lucius spent the weeks running interference, moving through Voldemort’s forces with the grace of a man who had survived far too many lies. Snape, tight-lipped and sharp as ever, worked from the other side, ensuring Dumbledore remained blissfully unaware of their plans.

As for the children?

They endured school.

They attended classes. Turned in assignments. Navigated tangled friendships and webs of interrelated secrets while also attending late-night study sessions. They trained, both physically and with occulmency quietly and relentlessly. Draco and Hermione appeared closer than ever, and Theo and Ginny had perfected their own unique brand of flirtation that was 70% sarcasm, 20% scheming, 10% subtle touching while passing in the hallways. Ron had drafted something he lovingly called the “Horcrux Kill Counter” on the chalkboard in their Room of Requirement war room.

And Marcus Flint?

Barely a word from him.

Which, for the teens, felt less like relief and more like the quiet slither of something moving just out of sight. The calm before a storm.

+++

Luna

Luna had always lived in a world slightly adjacent to everyone else’s.

Most people saw life in straight lines—forward, backward, yes, no.

She saw in spirals.

She heard in echoes.

Where others found silence, Luna found whispers in the cracks. She saw the creatures that lived between moments, heard the ideas that perched on the rafters of consciousness, drifting down only for those patient enough to listen. Few people really understood her, and she liked it best that way.

The Ravenclaw common room was quiet that afternoon, lit only by the floating blue lanterns that gave the space its soft, ethereal glow. Luna sat cross-legged on one of the round window seats, her radish earrings swinging gently as she hummed to herself. From here she could see the mountains, pale blue against the fading daylight.

Then the whisper came.

Not with words. Not yet.

More like a tug. A shimmer. A thought brushing the edge of her awareness, feather-light but insistent.

Something hidden. Something forgotten. Something crowned.

The room temperature dropped a few degrees, not unpleasant, simply… expectant.

A soft voice drifted from behind her.

“You hear it too, child.”

Luna turned, unbothered in the slightest to find the Grey Lady drifting inches off the ground, her spectral hair flowing like ribbons of moonlight. Not many other students engaged with the ghost, thinking of her as unfriendly. But the blonde witch disagreed. She, like Luna, was simply misunderstood.

“Oh yes,” Luna said brightly. “It’s making quite a fuss today.”

The ghost tilted her head. “Most cannot perceive the relic’s call.”

“That’s because most people aren’t listening properly.” Luna reached out a hand, not touching, but close enough that the air between them tingled. “Are you listening properly today?”

A faint smile ghosted across the Grey Lady’s translucent lips. “I think I might be.”

Luna blinked dreamily. “Where did he hide it? Your mother’s crown?”

The Grey Lady stiffened, but not angrily, more like someone revisiting a buried memory.

“In a place where things are lost,” she whispered. “Where they pile upon each other endlessly. A room full of forgotten dreams.”

Luna nodded. “Of course. The castle would keep something like that tucked where it keeps everything else no one wants to claim.”

The ghost’s expression softened. “You are unlike other students.”

“That’s because I don’t pretend the world is only what I can see,” Luna replied. “It would be terribly boring if it were.”

A beat of silence, then the Grey Lady spoke again, voice hushed.

“Be cautious. The diadem corrupts. It twists truths.” Her eyes darkened. “It twisted mine.”

Luna stood, brushing imaginary dust off her skirt. “Thank you. I should go find Blaise Zabini now.”

“Zabini is an old name,” the specter responded, curious. “A name with a history more foul than most. Why is it him you seek?”

“Oh,” Luna said airily, “because he hides in cracks too.”

+++

The corridor outside Blaise’s unofficial hideout of the night was empty, by design. He’d carved the space out for himself, slipping past moving walls and trick staircases until he found a classroom no one had used in a century, tucked behind a tapestry of a wizard trying and failing to teach trolls ballet. It was not his usual haunt, where he traded secrets like a commodity. This space was special, secret. But Luna simply walked straight to it.

Inside, Blaise sat on a desk, one leg dangling over the side, flipping his wand between his fingers with practiced ease. The room smelled faintly of old parchment.

Without looking up, he said, “I know that’s you, Lovegood. No one else twinkles when they walk.”

“Thank you,” Luna said cheerfully. “I think.”

Blaise lowered the wand. “Should I even ask how you found me, or should I just expect you to always know where I am now?”

She studied him a moment, his guarded posture, his sharp eyes that missed nothing, the heavy quiet he wrapped around himself like armor.

“Why do you hide like this?” she asked softly.

He scowled. “I don’t hide.”

“You do.”

“I gather information,” he corrected. “People come to me when they are in need. They reveal things. Useful things.”

Luna walked closer until she was standing directly in front of him.

“But you also hide,” she repeated gently. “You think secrets are safer than people.”

Blaise’s jaw tightened.

“And maybe they have been,” she continued, “but you don’t have to stay alone just because you once learned to be.”

He stared at her, the wand stilling in his hand.

Slowly, too slowly to be casual, he looked away.

“…thanks,” he muttered.

“You’re welcome.”

Another moment stretched. Then Blaise cleared his throat. “So why are you here? Not that this emotional intervention wasn’t… riveting.”

“We’re going to find the next horcrux,” Luna said as if announcing they were going to feed the thestrals.

Blaise blinked once.

Then twice.

“…we’re doing what?”

“Oh yes. It’ll be fun.”

“I’m having a hard time believing that.”

But he hopped off the desk and grabbed his wand anyway.

+++

The Room of Requirement shifted open the moment they walked past it. Luna stepped inside first, eyes wide and delighted. Piles of broken chairs, half-melted candles, old books, lost socks, and thousands of forgotten odds and ends rose like miniature mountains.

“It’s perfect,” she sighed.

“It’s a death trap,” Blaise muttered.

They moved through the clutter, weaving between tall stacks of abandoned possessions. Luna stopped occasionally to pick up a quill or a hat or an odd-looking bottle.

“Lovegood,” Blaise warned, “please, for the love of sanity, stop collecting artifacts. We’re here for one thing.”

“Right, yes.” She tucked a shimmering orb into her pocket. “But it wanted to come with me.”

“Of course it did.”

They waded deeper through aisles of forgotten furniture, cracked cauldrons, and misplaced professors’ wigs.

“Stay close,” Blaise warned.

“I am close,” Luna said. “Spiritually.”

“That’s the least helpful version of close.”

Further and further until, finally, Luna stopped.

The whisper surged.

Her eyes lifted.

There, resting atop an old mannequin’s head, sat the diadem.

Silver. Ancient. Beautiful.

Tainted.

“I found it,” she breathed.

Blaise stepped closer, dread flickering across his face as he felt the dark magic that surrounded the object. “Bloody hell. That’s definitely it.”

Luna reached out, and the diadem practically hummed in her hand. Cold, heavy, and oddly alive.

She slipped it into her robes.

And that’s when a voice drawled from behind them,

“Well, well. Isn’t this cozy.”

Marcus Flint stood in the entrance to the aisle, arms crossed, expression dark.

Blaise swore under his breath.

Luna felt her pulse quicken, but she did not panic. Instead, she simply stepped closer to Blaise, as if this were all very normal.

“Flint,” Blaise said coolly. “Fancy seeing you here.”

Marcus sneered. “Looks like I wasn’t the only one with business in this room. What are you two doing here?”

Blaise didn’t hesitate.

“We’re here to have some alone time, Flint.”

Luna nodded pleasantly. “Yes. Blaise is quite skilled at snogging.”

Blaise coughed. “Luna—”

Marcus barked a laugh. “Right. As if the heir to the noble house of Zabini would ever waste his time on a Looney freak.”

Something inside Blaise that felt dangerously like loyalty pulled tight in his chest.

He stepped forward, eyes blazing.

“Say that again.”

Marcus smirked. “She’s fucking looney.”

Blaise shot first.

“Stupefy!”

Marcus dodged, firing back instantly. “Expulso!”

The blast shattered a pile of chairs, splinters raining down.

Blaise swore. “Luna—move!”

She did, gracefully sidestepping a sizzling curse.

Marcus advanced. “You always were weak, Zabini—”

“Confringo!”

Blaise’s curse slammed into a pillar, narrowly missing Marcus, sending stone chips flying.

Marcus retaliated.

“Petrificus Totalus!”

“Protego!” Blaise snapped, shield blooming in front of him.

Luna flicked her wand almost lazily.

“Immobulus.”

Marcus countered with a grunt. “Not falling for your airy little tricks, Looney!”

Blaise’s eyes darkened. “Don’t. Call. Her. That.”

Marcus sneered. “Why? She doesn’t even mind.”

“Because she’s not—” Blaise choked, then roared, “—Expelliarmus!”

Marcus blocked and fired a spinning curse that grazed Blaise’s shoulder, tearing fabric.

Luna hissed, “We should leave.”

“I can take him!”

“You can,” Luna agreed, “but you shouldn’t.”

Marcus raised his wand for something darker—

“Glacius!” Blaise snapped.

The floor iced over beneath Marcus, sending him skidding into a tower of books, cursing violently as they toppled over him.

Luna grabbed Blaise’s wrist.

“Time to go!”

This time, he didn’t argue.

They sprinted between piles of junk as Marcus’s spells exploded behind them.

The room shifted, closing pathways behind them, guiding them toward the exit.

They burst into the hallway, panting, and kept running until they were back in the hidden classroom.

Blaise leaned against the wall, catching his breath.

“That,” he managed, “was… not ideal.”

“It was exciting,” Luna said sunnily.

He snorted. “You have a strange definition of exciting.”

She tilted her head, a considerate look on her face. “You defended me.”

He froze.

Luna smiled faintly. “You told him I wasn’t looney.”

He closed his eyes, as if physically pained. “…yeah, well. You’re not. And don’t listen to anyone who says that, they’re a bunch of idiots.”

“Thank you. The Mumble-Snouted Flitterpuff will be pleased with you.”

“The what?”

“It likes when people make emotional progress. They’re very rare creatures. One lives in the Astronomy Tower.”

He gave her a long look. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Oh, I fully intend to,” Luna said dreamily. “After all, we’re quickly becoming best friends. Which makes perfect sense really, considering I will be the best woman at your and Harry’s wedding.”

Blaise choked, all semblance of his cool facade gone.

“EXCUSE ME?!”

“Oh yes,” Luna continued serenely. “It’ll be beautiful. Ginny will cry, Draco too, although he’ll pretend it’s just dust in his eye. Hermione will make a lovely speech.“

Blaise sputtered. “I am—Luna—I am not—Harry’s not—we’re not—“

“Shh,” she said, patting his arm to quiet his sputtering. “Let the future surprise you.”

He stared at her, partway horrified and partway pleased, while she walked merrily ahead.

+++

The full group assembled later that night in the room—Harry, Hermione, Ron, Draco, Ginny, Theo, Blaise, Neville and Luna. The air felt charged, heavy with expectation and dread and something electric.

Luna stood in the center, the diadem cradled gently in her palms.

“It’s whispering,” she murmured. “Lying.”

“I can’t believe there was a horcrux in the castle,” Ron muttered almost to himself. “A piece of Tom’s soul in the bloody castle. Does Dumbledore pay attention at all to what’s happening in this place? What kind of establishment is this?!”

Theo, ignoring the redhead’s ranting, moved closer to Luna, a rare serious expression on his face. “We’ll be right here. You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I know,” Luna said simply. “That’s why it can’t hurt me.”

She set the diadem down.

Hermione uncorked the basilisk venom with trembling hands, but Luna stopped her.

“I’ll do it. It wants me to face it.”

Luna picked up the vial and faced the diadem. She poured the first drop.

The diadem hissed, smoke curling upward, and then the world bent.

A figure formed from the darkness.

Herself.

A twisted, pale Luna with dull eyes and a cold mouth.

“No one wants you,” the phantom crooned.

“You’re strange. You’re wrong. People only keep you around because they feel sorry for you.”

The room went silent.

Everyone held their breath.

But Luna only smiled.

“That’s not true,” she said softly.

The phantom snarled.

“I have friends who love me. I love them too. And you—” She lifted the vial. “—are only a lie pretending to be me.”

She poured the venom.

A scream like shattering glass ripped the air. The diadem convulsed, cracked, and fell into two broken halves.

Luna exhaled, serene. “That was rather loud.”

Theo stepped forward. “Luna… what did that thing say to you?”

She tilted her head.

“A story that wasn’t mine. And wasn’t worth listening to.”

The room vibrated with a strange mixture of triumph and dread.

Draco spoke.

“What was Flint doing in there?”

A heavy silence fell.

Ginny crossed her arms. “Nothing good.”

Hermione chewed her lip. “The room only appears for someone who really needs it. If Flint was in there—”

“He was looking for something,” Neville finished.

“Or someone,” Blaise muttered darkly.

Harry’s jaw tightened. “We’re running out of time.”

Ron nodded solemnly, standing near his chalkboard, lifted the chalk dramatically.

“Well, that’s one more down,” he said. The chalk drew a bold line through DIADEM, leaving only two unchecked.

“Three down. Two to go.”

Hermione pressed a hand to her chest.

“I’m afraid that Flint is getting bolder. More desperate.”

Luna looked toward the sealed door, her expression distant.

“The storm is getting closer.”

No one disagreed.

Because they all felt it too. The tightening. The urgency.

The quiet before everything finally broke.

Notes:

Double post day! I promise I’ll get back to a Hermione POV soon. I just couldn’t resist pulling Luna to the forefront. She’s one of my favorite canon characters and I jumped at the opportunity to develop her a bit more. Also the Blaise/Luna friendship dynamic is too fun. Love to see people comment! Honestly can’t believe anyone has gotten this far, thanks so much for reading!!

Chapter 64

Every day felt like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Hermione had never thought of herself as fragile, but lately she felt stretched thin, like a thread pulled too tight, on the edge of snapping. Gryffindors had a reputation for courage, but Hermione suspected she resembled a tightly wound violin string more than any heroic lion.

She went to class, she answered questions, she sat with her friends, and yet none of it settled inside her properly. It felt like going through motions underwater, muffled and slow.

The war pressed in on every side. Their secrets pressed in. The risk pressed in.

Two nights ago had been the first moment she’d even remembered what relief felt like.

Sirius’s hastily scrawled message had flashed into existence in their enchanted journals.

The Gringotts heist went off without a hitch. Cissa is brilliant—unfairly brilliant, as always—and the cup is destroyed. We’re safe.

Hermione had sunk to the floor and let out a sob that sounded almost like laughter. The kind of relief that hurts.

But the relief was fleeting. Snape had warned them that Voldemort was beginning to notice something was wrong. He felt… off. Distracted, unsettled. The more destruction the horcruxes suffered, the more Voldemort dug at the corners of his own mind, searching for the source of the itch he couldn’t name.

On top of that, Lucius Malfoy had heard whisperings through the ranks that the ‘mysterious Death Eater’ in Hogwarts was close to a breakthrough.

Which meant time was nearly gone.

Days blurred together in dread. Hermione felt it in her bones, in her magic, in the knot at the base of her skull that hadn’t loosened in weeks.

And Draco, of course Draco, noticed.

He didn’t confront her in public. He didn’t make a scene. He watched, quietly. He saw her hand tremble when she wrote. He saw her stare into nothing for too long. He saw the brittleness trying to grow beneath her skin.

He noticed when she didn’t say anything at all.

So he set a plan.

And he didn’t tell her.

Hermione had thought she was climbing the stairs to the seventh floor corridor simply to escape—just for a moment, just to breathe. But when she reached the blank stretch of wall, Draco was waiting.

He stepped out from a shadow like he’d been carved there. His eyes softened the moment they landed on her.

“You’re late,” he murmured, though his voice held no reproach.

“I didn’t know I was supposed to meet you,” she said.

“Good,” he replied, and held out a hand. “It’s a surprise.”

Her heart stumbled, and she took his hand.

The Room opened immediately, as if it had been waiting for only the two of them.

Hermione stepped inside and stopped breathing.

The Room had transformed into a meadow that looked like a dream-version of the Forbidden Forest. Sunlight filtering through impossibly tall trees, soft moss beneath her feet, petals drifting in the air like lazy snow. A blanket lay in the center with an elegant picnic set and something that smelled suspiciously like chocolate fondue.

“Draco…” she whispered. “You… you did all this?”

He shrugged in that way he did when he was trying to downplay something that had actually cost him time, thought, and far too much worry. Such a Slytherin.

“You’ve been unraveling.”

She froze.

“You hide it well,” he continued, stepping closer, “but I see it. You’re exhausted. And scared. And trying to pretend you’re not.”

Hermione’s chest tightened painfully. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“I worry anyway, love.” Draco cupped her cheek. “Let me.”

For a moment she almost cried again, which was ridiculous because she’d never cried this much in her life. But something about him, about how he said let me, cracked something open inside her.

He guided her toward the blanket. They sat. But Hermione didn’t even look at the food; she folded into him, pressing her face into his chest like she was trying to burrow under his ribs.

Draco wrapped both arms around her without hesitation.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured.

“I’m not.”

“You are.” He rested his chin on her hair. “Tell me what’s going on.”

She inhaled shakily. “Draco… I feel like any second something awful is going to happen. Like the ground is going to fall out from under us. Voldemort is getting suspicious. Snape says he’s close to discovering something. Lucius says Flint is near some kind of breakthrough. And our time is almost up and I—”

She broke off, breath catching.

She hated this. Hated the feeling of spiraling.

Draco held her tighter. “Hermione. Breathe.”

She did, once, twice, into the fabric of his robes which smelled like mahogany and apples and him.

“I’m scared,” she whispered.

“I know,” he said softly. “I am too.”

That admission pierced her. “You’re not supposed to be.”

“Oh? Which book says that?” he asked lightly.

“Draco.”

“Hermione,” he echoed, brushing his lips against her forehead. “I’m not fearless. I fear for your safety as much as you fear for mine.”

She jerked slightly, heart clenching.

The words came out of her without thought, pushed by fear and relief and everything in between.

“I love you.”

Without a word, Draco tipped her face up and kissed her, slow and tender in a way that made her chest ache.

“And I love you,” he murmured against her mouth. “So much that it terrifies me.”

Hermione melted. The Room dimmed the lights automatically, as if it knew what they needed. The lanterns glowed warmer. The meadow breeze softened.

They kissed again, deeper, lingering. Draco’s hands cradled her waist, then slid to her back, drawing her flush against him. Her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

The world shrank to lips, breath, warmth, the faint rustle of conjured petals brushing their skin.

Clothes shifted.

Breaths hitched.

The Room of Requirement, ever aware, ever gentle, coaxed the meadow around them into a cocoon of softness and dark.

+++

It was well past midnight when Hermione sat curled in an armchair, quill scribbling as she tried to catch up on the week’s assignments. Her body felt loose and warm from earlier, but her mind was sharp again, focused and steady.

She didn’t expect footsteps on the boys’ staircase.

She definitely didn’t expect Ron, hair sticking up wildly, still in his pajamas, face pale as milk.

“Ron?” Hermione stood immediately. “What’s wrong? You look—Merlin, you look awful.”

Ron swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. “It’s Harry.”

Her heart dropped. “What happened?”

“He’s—he’s having another one of those nightmares. The vision things. Through… y’know.” Ron gestured vaguely at his own face. “Tom.”

Hermione inhaled sharply. “Is he hurt?”

“No. But he was screaming.” Ron rubbed his eyes. “Hermione, I think I get it now.”

She blinked. “Get what?”

Ron paced, hands shaking slightly. And Hermione knew, knew from nearly a decade of friendship that he was holding something back. Ron always paced when he was frightened. Always looked everywhere but her when he was making himself say something he didn’t want to.

“Ron,” she said quietly. “Tell me.”

He exhaled hard. “It’s the horcruxes.”

Hermione stilled completely.

Ron continued, words tumbling out with nervous speed.

“Luna’s weird comment about more than seven—like she knew something no one else did. And Harry’s scar hurting all the time. And the way he sees through You-Know-Who’s eyes sometimes. And the way Dumbledore keeps telling him that the connection is ‘unique.’ Hermione… horcruxes are connections between objects.”

Her shoulders tensed.

“And Harry’s always been… different,” Ron said. “The night his parents died, that spell—nobody survives that. Nobody. Unless something else happened.” His voice cracked. “And his scar. Hermione, it’s never healed fully. It’s cursed. Like—like—”

Hermione whispered it because she suddenly couldn’t not say it.

“A horcrux.”

Ron nodded helplessly. “I think—no—I know. I feel it in my bones. Hermione, Harry is a horcrux.”

Hermione’s mind roared. Images snapped together in a horrifying collage,

Harry’s agony whenever Voldemort grew angry.

His dreams.

His ability to see through the snake’s eyes.

Dumbledore’s constant secrecy.

Trelawney’s prophecy.

“Oh Godric,” she breathed. Her knees nearly gave out. “Ron… Ron, if you’re right—”

“I know,” he said hoarsely. “I know.”

They stood in silence for a terrible moment before Hermione forced her thoughts into order. The only way she could handle panic was to categorize it.

“What do we do?”

“We go to Dumbledore,” Ron said immediately, jaw tightening. “If he knows, and I think he does, we’re going to get the truth out of him.”

Hermione nodded. “We go tomorrow. As soon as we can get away.”

Ron met her eyes. “Yeah. Together.”

+++

It was easy enough to find a time when Harry was distracted. He had disappeared to the RoR with Blaise after dinner. Under the guise of some sort of dueling practice, though Hermione reckoned it was probably more like snogging practice. Either way, it gave her and Ron the window they needed.

The gargoyle leapt aside at their approach. They ascended the spiral staircase, hearts pounding.

Dumbledore was waiting.

“Miss Granger. Mr. Weasley.” His voice was gentle, almost too gentle. “I assume this is not a social visit.”

“No,” Ron said flatly. “We want answers. About Harry.”

Dumbledore’s expression flickered—only slightly, but Hermione saw it.

“I have told Harry what he needs to—”

“We’re done with that,” Hermione said sharply. “He deserves the truth. And so do we.”

Dumbledore sighed. “War often requires difficult—”

“Is Harry a horcrux?” Ron cut in, blunt as a sword strike.

Silence.

Real, heavy silence that made Hermione’s stomach clench in anticipation.

Dumbledore closed his eyes.

Hermione’s breath hitched.

Ron swore quietly under his breath. “Bloody hell. I knew it.”

“Yes,” Dumbledore said finally. “Harry carries within him a piece of Voldemort’s soul. Unintentionally created on the night of his parents death, but created nonetheless.”

Hermione pressed a hand to her mouth.

Ron looked furious. “And you were just going to what? Wait until the end and then march him to Voldemort like a bloody sacrifice?”

Dumbledore’s face crumpled with sadness. “I have never wished harm upon Harry. But the prophecy states—”

“Sod the prophecy!” Ron exploded. “You should’ve trusted us! If we’d known, we could’ve—we could’ve planned. Found another way. He’s our best friend.”

“I do not want Harry to die,” Dumbledore said softly. “But the path ahead is treacherous. I planned to guide him when the time came—”

A deafening wail split the air, cutting off his next sentence.

It was a shrill, magical, ear-splitting alarm.

Red runes blazed across the office ceiling.

Hermione jerked back. “What—what is that?”

Dumbledore flicked his wand.

In the air above his desk, a translucent three-dimensional map of Hogwarts burst into existence—floors layered atop one another like floating glass panes. Corridors glowed softly in blue. Rooms shimmered gold.

One section pulsed violently red.

The second floor girl’s bathroom.

Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

“Oh no,” she whispered.

Dumbledore’s expression tightened, ancient grief flickering through the lines of his face. “That,” he said grimly, “is an explosion detection charm. Someone has forced their way into a protected area.”

Ron clenched his fists. “Flint. He did it. He used a Bombarda to blast into the Chamber of Secrets.”

“He’s bringing in reinforcements,” Hermione whispered, horror spiraling.

“The Death Eaters,” Ron finished bluntly. “They’re coming.”

Dumbledore strode toward the door, map dissolving behind him. “You two must find Harry and gather your allies. Call for the Order. I will coordinate the professors to secure the common rooms and keep all the students inside. I must go strengthen the wards and prepare the castle.”

Hermione’s heart pounded. “This is it, isn’t it?”

Dumbledore paused.

His eyes, once twinkling, were steel.

“War,” he said, “has finally come to Hogwarts.”

Ron grabbed Hermione’s hand. “Come on. We have to move.”

They ran.

And Hogwarts screamed around them.

Chapter 65

Hermione’s lungs burned as she sprinted up the corridor, shoes slapping against the slick stone. The castle trembled again, closer this time. Ron was only a step behind her, panting heavily but refusing to slow.

Keep your head, keep your head, Hermione ordered herself, even as fear clawed up her spine. They rounded the corner by the Transfiguration classroom and nearly collided with two terrified Ravenclaw second-years clinging to each other like limpets.

“Get to your common room! You’ll be safe there!” Hermione shouted, guiding them with a firm hand. “Stick together, don’t look back, and go straight there. Go!”

Ron flicked his wand. “Expecto Patronum!”

The terrier burst from his wand in a streak of silver light, bright enough to cast sharp shadows across the corridor. It barked once and sprinted forward, Ron calling after it,

“Message for Dad—Deatheaters at Hogwarts. Bring everyone. Now!”

Hermione didn’t pause. She fished in her pocket, pulled out the DA galleon, and whispered rapidly, “Death Eaters breaching the castle. Mobilize if you can fight. Stay in your common room and protect the others if you can’t.”

The coin pulsed hot in her palm.

Please let that reach everyone.

They tore through the seventh-floor corridor. The Room of Requirement’s entrance yawned open like it had been waiting anxiously.

Inside, Harry and Blaise were already waiting.

“Oh thank Godric you’re here,” Harry said the moment they entered. “What the bloody hell is going on?”

“Flint opened the chamber by force, Voldemort is coming. We were directing students back to their common rooms on the way here, prefect duties,” Hermione huffed.

Before Harry could ask more, the door banged open again. Ginny spilled in first, cheeks flushed, wand already in hand.

“Got the galleon message. Luna’s right behind—oh!”

As if on cue, Luna drifted in, wand tucked behind one ear. Her expression was dreamy but her robes were smudged with dust.

Then, thunderous footsteps, and Draco and Theo barreled in, both wide-eyed and breathless.

“Anyone else?” Theo asked between gulps of air.

A slower, heavier tread followed. Neville stumbled through the door last, looking like he’d sprinted the entire castle twice.

“Sorry—I was helping McGonagall—had to make sure all the first years—were accounted for,” he wheezed.

Theo slapped a hand over his heart dramatically. “Protecting the firsties. If this bloke doesn’t make Head Boy next year, I will personally file a petition with the Board of Governors.”

Neville gulped for more air. “Thanks mate.”

Then chaos erupted.

“We need to seal the corridor—”

“No, we need to get the Order—”

“The DA should—”

“What about getting the sword—?”

“We have to protect the—”

“Everyone shut it!”

Ginny’s whistle pierced the air like a spell. Ron stepped forward the instant the last echo faded.

“All right, listen up!” he barked, surprising even Hermione with the authority in his voice. “We don’t have time to argue.”

Everyone watched him with rapt attention.

“Neville, Luna—you two round up any DA members who want to fight. Bring them to the Entrance Hall.”

Neville nodded fiercely. Luna smiled like she’d been asked to collect butterflies.

“Hermione, Ginny, Theo—you’re meeting the Order at the Entrance Hall. They’ll be coming through any second, and they need a briefing before they walk into a death trap.”

Hermione gave Ron a sharp nod. Good. Good. He’s thinking clearly.

“Draco, Blaise,” Ron continued, “you two are going to Dumbledore’s office. Password is licorice wands. I need you to find the Sword of Gryffindor. We still have a snake to kill.”

Draco’s lips twitched like he wanted to argue the idea of leaving Hermione, but Blaise grabbed his sleeve.

“Sooner we leave the sooner we get back,” Blaise muttered. “Let’s go Draco.”

Harry turned slowly. “And me?”

Silence fell.

Ron swallowed, jaw tight. “You and I need to have a chat. Before anything.”

Blaise stiffened immediately, eyes narrowing while Draco shot Ron a questioning look. Hermione’s stomach twisted—she knew that this conversation was meant for just the two of them. “Come on, we all need to go we have very little time.”

The pairs split off, wands drawn, feet pounding into the corridors until Ron and Harry were the only ones left in the suddenly too-empty room.

Harry stared at the floor. “So. You figured it out.”

Ron blinked. “Figured—what?”

Harry huffed a bitter laugh. “Don’t play dumb, mate. How long have you known that I’m a horcrux?”

Ron stared at him, genuinely startled. “I—wait—how long have you known?”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “A while. Blaise… figured it out first, actually.”

Ron blinked. “Blaise? Blaise ‘your secret boyfriend’ Zabini figured this out before me?”

“All the pieces fit,” Harry murmured. “Too neatly. He said it out loud, and once I heard it—I couldn’t unsee it.”

Ron swore under his breath. “What were you going to do, then? Not tell us? Walk off? March into Tom’s arms?” His voice cracked. “Harry—what are you planning?”

Harry didn’t answer directly. His gaze drifted toward the shaking ceiling. “I know what I have to do.”

“No.” Ron’s voice was sharp, loud, desperate. “Don’t. Don’t give me that noble shit. We’ll figure out another way. There’s always another way. You don’t get to decide you’re the sacrificial lamb—”

“I’m not deciding anything,” Harry whispered. “I just… understand the path better now.”

Ron grabbed his shoulders. “You better not be about to run off and get yourself killed! You hear me? You can’t do that to Hermione, or Sirius, or Blaise. Not to any of us! We’re doing this together. Just like we always have.”

Harry didn’t argue—but he didn’t promise either.

The floor shuddered violently, stone grinding against stone. Plaster cracked along the far wall, and a deafening boom echoed through the castle.

Ron and Harry exchanged one look.

“Wards,” Harry breathed. “They must be breaking the castle wards.”

Ron’s face hardened. “We need to run.”

They bolted out of the Room of Requirement, wands raised, sprinting toward the shaking heart of Hogwarts and the battle crashing its way inside.

+++

The Entrance Hall was already a storm of activity when Hermione, Ginny, and Theo burst through the battered oak doors.

The air hummed with shield charms being layered, counter-wards being tested, and the sharp metallic scent of defensive magic shimmering in the atmosphere.

Hermione felt the vibration of each sound in her ribs.

They’re here. This is really happening.

But she forced herself onward.

Ginny skidded to a halt first, eyes instantly finding the familiar red hair among the fresh wave of Order members stepping from the emergency Floo that could only be opened by Dumbledore himself. Her voice tore from her chest, “Charlie!”

Before Hermione even blinked, Charlie Weasley dropped the bags he was holding and ran, practically launching himself at Ginny and lifting her clean off the floor.

“Merlin—Gin! You alright? Are you hurt? Why does your hair look so messy? Have you been running—“

“Charlie PUT ME DOWN—” Ginny sputtered, swatting at him even as her arms wrapped tight around his shoulders. “I’m fine! Mostly. Sort of. There’s been a lot going on!”

“Oh good,” Charlie gave a wry grin, “I’d be offended if I came all this way for nothing.”

Theo cleared his throat, stepping forward with careful politeness Hermione recognized as his Pureblood Heir mode.

“Charlie Weasley,” Ginny huffed, tugging herself free. “This is Theo. Theodore Nott.”

Theo nodded once, hands behind his back. “Pleasure to meet you. Respectfully, sir.”

Charlie raised a brow. “Sir? Good Godric, I feel ancient.” He gave Theo a slow once-over. Not threatening—more like a dragon tamer assessing a new hatchling. “So. You’re the infamous Theodore.”

Theo’s neutral expression faltered. “Infamous is… strong.”

“Mm,” Charlie replied, grin widening, “Infamous is accurate. Ginny’s been mad about you for years.”

“Charlie,” Ginny warned, cheeks already going pink.

Charlie held up both hands. “Alright, alright. I won’t waste time embarrassing you.” He turned to Theo, more serious.

“But if you hurt her—”

Theo’s eyes flicked to Ginny, then back. “Never.”

Something in the older man’s face softened.

Hermione would’ve smiled if panic weren’t filling her lungs.

She took one step closer.

“Charlie we need to brief you all. Now.”

His focus snapped instantly to her. “Hermione! Thank goodness you’re here. What’s happening? Da said only ‘castle breach’ before we jumped through.”

Ginny inhaled sharply. “They’re are coming in through the Chamber of Secrets.”

Charlie blinked. “Through the… Ginny. Again?”

“It’s not my fault!” she protested. “And there’s no basilisk this time—just Death Eaters, dementors, and potentially giants, combined with the world’s worst idea of a plumbing system.”

Hermione pressed on, louder. “The lower tunnels provide direct access under the castle. Dumbledore suspected Voldemort had Crouch keep some kind of passage open during 4th year—Harry thinks they’re using it now.”

Charlie swore under his breath.

Ginny crossed her arms. “And Voldemort’s coming for Harry.”

Charlie’s head whipped around.

“Is Harry—?”

“Alive,” Hermione said quickly. “But reckless.”

“Of course he is,” Charlie muttered. “I’ll go let everyone else know.”

Before anyone could say goodbye to his departing form, two identical figures swooped in like madness in motion.

Fred and George.

“Well, look who’s destroying school property again—”

“—and using the castle as a battleground without us.”

“Oh, we are deeply offended.”

“Mortally wounded.”

“Utterly betrayed.”

Ginny groaned. “Not now you two—”

But the twins froze mid-dramatic gesture when they saw Theo standing slightly, very slightly, too close to her.

Four identical Weasley eyes dropped to the joined hands.

Theo looked at their entwined fingers as if noticing them for the first time.

Ginny squeaked and tried to yank her hand away, but Theo’s reflexes were faster; he held on.

Fred inhaled theatrically. “Well, well, well.”

George mirrored him. “What have we here?”

“A coupling—”

“A partnership—”

“A romantic alliance—”

“A strategic merger—”

Theo looked caught between amusement and confusion. “You two practice that?”

“In the womb,” Fred said proudly.

“Our mother hated it,” George added.

Ginny dragged a hand over her face. “Please stop talking.”

But the twins stepped closer, flanking Theo.

“So,” Fred said casually, “we’ve heard a few things through the store.”

“More than a few things,” George agreed.

“Things about mischief and fireworks.”

“Cauldrons of frogs mysteriously appearing.”

“And our favorite, apparently you caused the entire main staircase to evacuate last month because, how did that bloke phrase it?, ‘Nott performed experimental magic unsupervised.’”

Theo blinked. “Technically, the staircase evacuated itself.”

Hermione slapped a hand to her mouth to hide her laughter.

Ginny smacked her brothers’ arms. “Leave him alone!”

Fred and George pulled matching mock-innocent faces. “Oh, we’re not teasing.”

“Not at all.”

“We’re saying we approve.”

Ginny went redder than her hair.

Theo quietly smirked at her. “See? Some people find my chaos charming, sweetheart.”

“You’re impossible,” she muttered.

“And yet,” Theo murmured, “you’re still holding my hand.”

Ginny yanked her gaze away so fast she nearly sprained something.

Hermione wanted to laugh but she spotted Sirius and Remus across the hall and everything inside her dropped.

She hurried toward them.

Sirius spun the moment she approached, cloak swirling like a shadow. “Hermione! You alright?”

“No,” she admitted, breath catching. “Not remotely.”

Remus stepped closer, voice gentle. “Tell us.”

Hermione swallowed. “Ron and I spoke to Dumbledore. He told us the truth about another horcrux.”

Both men went still.

“It’s Harry,” Hermione whispered. “Or part of him. That’s why he’s been so involved in Harry’s life. It’s all because of that prophecy.”

Sirius’s face twisted, grief and fury battling behind his eyes. “That son of a—”

Remus pressed a calming hand to his arm. “Harry knows?”

“He does now,” Hermione said. “Ron kept him back to talk to him about it. Told us to come down here and greet you.”

Her voice cracked. “We’re both worried he’s going to try to turn himself in.”

Sirius set his jaw. “Not happening.”

Remus nodded. “We’ll keep eyes on him.”

“No slipping away,” Sirius added. “I swear on James’s grave—I’m not letting that boy march into death.”

Hermione’s throat tightened. “Thank you.”

A tremor rolled under their feet—stronger, deeper, louder.

Everyone froze. Then a resounding CRACK ruptured the stone beneath them, dust bursting upward in choking waves.

Fred shouted, “Incoming!”

Theo yanked Ginny backward, shielding her with his body.

Charlie drew his wand with the fluid motion of a man who’d tamed dragons barehanded.

Sirius and Remus shoved Hermione behind them, shields already flaring.

Another quake rocked the entire hall, the floor splitting in jagged lines. A deep, unearthly rumble rose from the depths, the sound of magic tearing, of tunnels collapsing, of something clawing its way upward.

They were coming.

+++

Draco had never liked running.

It felt undignified. A perfect picture of panic. And Slytherins didn’t panic; they maneuvered, calculated, slithered out of range. They didn’t sprint through corridors as if the castle were collapsing behind them.

Yet here he was, racing down the hall like a deranged Gryffindor, Blaise pounding along at his side.

“Remind me,” Blaise huffed, dodging a toppled suit of armor, “why you lot are always running in this school? It’s revolting.”

Draco snorted despite himself. “Well if you start lifting things voluntarily, I’ll know we’ve reached the end.”

“At this rate, we’ll die of exertion before the Death Eaters get us.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Insufferable,” Blaise muttered.

“And yet you keep hanging around,” Draco shot back.

Blaise made a face that fell somewhere between annoyance and amusement, his usual territory. And Draco felt that familiar, strange tug in his chest.

Because throughout his years at Hogwarts, Blaise had been one of the constants.

Not a best friend, not in the Gryffindor sense of tell me your dreams, let’s braid each other’s hair sort of way. Slytherin friendships weren’t built like that.

No, he and Blaise were the Slytherin sort of close. Half banter, half threat, half loyalty,  an alliance born of watching each other’s backs in a house where backs were meant for stabbing.

They understood each other.

Not through confessions, but through silences and strategic glances across the classroom.

And Draco had always been fine with that.

Until this last month.

This last bloody month where everything had gone sideways—where Blaise had been… different.

More open. Not in an emotional explosion way, Merlin forbid, but in a way that told Draco his friend had cracked slightly, just like he had.

Blaise had joked more. Rolled his eyes more. Said actual feelings aloud, in between insults. And Draco was still adjusting to it, still startled him every time.

Maybe Harry had done that. He knew that Hermione had done it to him, at least.

He was still thinking about all this, far more than was convenient for someone sprinting for a magical weapon, when they reached the gargoyle. Already open. Spiral staircase yawning upward.

“That’s not ominous,” Blaise said lightly.

Draco ignored the prickle at the back of his neck. “Come on.”

They thundered upstairs and burst into the office, which was missing one critical sword.

“Brilliant,” Draco muttered, sweeping the room. “Absolutely bloody brilliant.”

“Maybe it’s charmed to shrink?” Blaise offered. “Like a muggle pocket knife.”

Draco’s eye twitched. “It is not a bloody muggle knife, Blaise.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do,” Draco snapped. “Stop arguing just for the sake of it.”

Draco dragged a hand through his hair. It wasn’t here. Hermione had said, she’d said the sword would present itself in a moment of true Gryffindor need but—

Draco froze.

No. No, he wasn’t.

He wasn’t.

A soft rustle came from behind them.

They both turned.

The Sorting Hat sat on its shelf, looking particularly smug for an object made of cloth.

“Oh, hell,” Draco muttered.

Blaise blinked. “Is it… staring at you?”

“It doesn’t have eyes.”

“It’s staring,” Blaise insisted.

The hat yawned. “Took you long enough, dear boy.”

Draco stiffened. “No. Absolutely not.”

“Draco,” Blaise said quietly, “don’t tell me you’re afraid of a hat.”

“I’m not afraid of a hat.” Draco glared. “I just don’t want to put it on.”

“Why not? You’ve done it before.”

“That somehow makes it even worse!”

“Stop your whining,” the Sorting Hat said, decisively done with the dramatics. “You seek the Sword of Gryffindor. You’ll find it where it always appears—for those with a heart of courage.”

Blaise perked up. “Which means…?”

Draco stared at the hat.

“No.”

“Yes,” Blaise said far too cheerfully.

“I’m a Slytherin,” Draco hissed.

“And yet,” Blaise said, “that hat is speaking directly to you.”

Draco closed his eyes for a second, inhaled, and thought of Hermione.

Of the way she’d looked at him—like she saw something redeemable. Something good. Something brave.

Maybe, for her, he could do this.

“Fine.” Draco grabbed the hat like it was an enemy he intended to duel. “But if this thing sings a song—”

“It won’t,” Blaise said. “Probably.”

Draco jammed the hat onto his head.

Instant silence.

Then a warm, ancient voice filled his mind.

“Ah… Draco Malfoy. You’ve finally revealed your true self.”

He swallowed hard.

“Not for you,” Draco thought fiercely. “For her.”

“Indeed. It takes strength to rebuild oneself. Strength to choose who you become.”

There was a pause.

A soft, considering hum.

“You wear a snake’s skin with a lion’s heart, child.”

There was a blinding flash of heat, metal, and light.

Something heavy dropped into Draco’s hands, its hilt warm as if forged in living fire.

He yanked off the hat, breathing hard.

The Sword of Gryffindor gleamed in the dim office, bright and powerful and full of impossible weight.

Blaise let out a low whistle.

“Well, that’s it. You’ll never escape this. The lion-hearted Slytherin. I might get that embroidered on a pillow.”

“Try it,” Draco warned, “and I’ll stab you with this.”

“With the Gryffindor sword you heroically pulled from a hat? Yes, absolutely, threaten me with that.”

“Blaise—”

“No, this is best secret I’ve ever been given. I’ll bring this up for years to come. Wedding speeches. Future children’s bedtime stories. Your eulogy.”

“Can we go?” Draco barked, exasperated. “We don’t have time for this.”

Blaise jogged beside him as they bolted from the office again.

“Oh, I’ll make time for this,” he said grinning.

And despite everything, the impending battle, the fear, the fiery weight of the sword, Draco felt a pulse of something warm.

Chapter 66

The corridors leading toward the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets buzzed with the feverish energy of war. The Order members had pressed forward in staggered formations, wands drawn, voices low and urgent.

The younger students were gone.

Thank Merlin.

Hermione took another steadying breath at that thought. McGonagall, Flitwick, and the House prefects had swept every floor of the castle in tight grids, funneling students into their common rooms and sealing the entrances with faculty-level wards Hermione couldn’t have broken on her best day.

They’re safe. They’re safe. They’re safe.

But then came the jagged counter-thought,

Draco, where are you?

She pressed a palm subtly to her sternum.

Their soulmate bond flared warm and steady, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat not her own. He was Alive. Moving quickly. And… something else. Something like adrenaline or electricity threading through her chest.

Please be careful, Hermione thought fiercely, even though she knew he couldn’t hear her. Please be safe.

Beside her, Order members were gathering with grim efficiency—Kingsley conferring with Remus, Arthur adjusting the grip on his wand with both hands, Moody barking instructions like artillery fire. More people arrived, through the Floo Dumbledore had managed to open just long enough to let allied witches and wizards through. She hadn’t seen the older wizard since she left his office that evening, she briefly wondered where he’d gone, but hoped he was busy further securing the castle.

Across the hall, raised voices spiked sharply.

Hermione turned.

Molly Weasley stood ramrod straight, wand clenched in her fist, face mottled with fury and fear. Ginny stood opposite her, cheeks flushed, chin lifted high in that stubborn Weasley way.

“You will not be in the front lines, Ginevra Weasley!” Molly snapped, eyes blazing. “You are sixteen, still a child, and you will listen to me!”

Ginny planted her feet. “I’m almost of-age, actually.”

“That is not the point!”

“Mum,” Ginny said through her teeth, “the corridors are sealed.” She flung a hand back toward the hallways. “The wards locked behind them. There’s no way back to the tower. No way to get to the Hufflepuff den. I’m stuck here whether you like it or not!”

“You should have stayed with your classmates—”

“And done what?” Ginny exploded. “Hide? Wait for You-Know-Who to take the castle? Mum, I’m not leaving Hermione! I’m not leaving any of them!”

Hermione’s heart wrenched.

Ginny wasn’t crying.

Molly was very close to it.

Then two identical redheads inserted themselves into the space between them.

Fred threw an arm around Ginny’s shoulder. “We’ve got her, Mum.”

George mirrored him on the other side. “Absolutely. Top-notch bodyguards, us.”

“Specializing in little sisters who refuse to follow orders.”

Charlie strode up too, burns on his arms glowing faintly in the torchlight. “I’ll watch her back the whole time, Mum. That’s better protection than any dragon could offer.”

Ginny huffed. “I don’t need protection—”

Theo stepped up beside her, posture straight, wand already lit with a steady white glow.

His voice was quiet but firm.

“She’ll have me as well.”

The twins shot him identical, approving smirks that promised future jokes, but they didn’t interfere.

Molly inhaled sharply, chest trembling.

But she didn’t argue. Couldn’t.

Because the walls vibrated again, a deep-bellied rumble rolling upward from the ancient plumbing beneath the floor.

Hermione swallowed hard.

Focus. Focus. Draco’s alive. The Order is here. Harry’s still safe. You can’t afford to fall apart.

She forced her mind forward, assessing the gathered fighters.

More Aurors had joined. Professors were taking positions. Older members of the DA, like Augusta Longbottom, filed in breathless and determined. Hermione’s eyes drew sideways. To Neville, wand drawn tight in his grip. Seamus and Dean, side-by-side, exchanging a nod that said we’re in this to the end.

Her lungs tightened. This was really happening. Sirius moved to her side, Remus on the other. Like bookends. Like guardians.

A grinding crack split the hallway.

The wards surrounding entrance to the girls lavatory began to bulge.

No—tear.

Stone rippled outward and the air turned icy as a dementor-ridden draft spilled upward like a winter gust. Torches flickered violently, burning low, then out.

Moody shouted, “Shields up—NOW!”

A dozen voices echoed him.

“Protego Maxima!”

“Salvio Horrifica!”

“Repello Inimicum!”

Hermione barely finished raising her wand before the stone shattered outward in a violent burst and the first wave surged through.

Death Eaters.

Masks gleaming silver. Robes snapping in the cold. Wands flashing. Screams erupted.

“STUPEFY!”

“REDUCTO!”

“CONFRINGO!”

“IMPEDIMENTA!”

Spells collided mid-air in blinding flashes. One Death Eater flew backward under a combined blast from Charlie and Kingsley. Another dodged George’s jinx, only to be slammed sideways by Fred’s silent Banishing charm so forceful his body dented the opposite wall.

Hermione barely got her shield up in time before a sickly yellow curse smashed against it, sparking viciously. The backlash jolted up her arm, numbing her fingers.

She retaliated instantly. “RELASHIO!”

The Death Eater yelped as his wand hand spasmed; a second jinx from Remus disarmed him completely.

To her right, Theo was a blur—sparks of silver and navy magic snapping through the air with lethal precision. He cast like a man with a grudge—economical, fluid, devastating. A masked figure lunged at him, wand raised but Ginny’s Bat-Bogey Hex hit him so brutally he screamed and fled.

“Nice one, G,” Theo called, breathless.

“Focus!” Ginny shot back, face fierce.

More dark figures poured through the broken stone. Hermione pivoted low, sending a slicing charm that clipped the mask off one attacker, revealing Antonin Dolohov’s twisted snarl. Panic shot through her veins—him again.

He aimed.

“AVADA—”

“STUPEFY!” Hermione screamed, voice breaking.

Her spell hit too early, glancing off his shoulder instead of his chest. He roared, stumbling but far from down.

She braced for Dolohov’s counterstrike but a streak of red cut between them.

Sirius.

“Don’t touch her, you bastard!”

His stun spell hit Dolohov squarely in the chest, hurling him back through the shattered archway.

“Keep your wand up, kitten!” Sirius barked, wild, protective fire in his eyes.

Hermione nodded quickly, throat tight.

Behind her, Remus shouted incantations in crisp Latin, forming a layered shield wall that glowed gold and blue as curses struck it like hail.

Neville led a group of DA students forward, yelling for Seamus to blow a collapsing beam clear. Fred and George continued working in tandem with Peeves, alternating between legitimate combat and horrifying pranks-turned-weapons—shockwave fireworks and portable explosions.

The air was a maze of exploding light. Hermione’s pulse hammered so hard she felt it in her teeth.

And beneath it—a tug. The bond.

Draco… he’s close. He’s running back.

She exhaled shakily and raised her wand higher.

“KEEP THE LINE!” Kingsley roared over the chaos. “DON’T LET THEM BREACH THE HALL!”

Hermione planted her feet, magic gone white-hot at her fingertips. If Voldemort wanted this school, if he wanted Harry, he would have to rip them all down one by one to get him. And Hermione Granger wasn’t planning on falling. Not tonight. Not ever. She raised her wand toward the next wave of Death Eaters and screamed,

“INCENDIO MAXIMA!”

Flames erupted forward in a roaring arc of gold, lighting the battlefield like sunrise. The heat from her Incendio still crackled in the air when the corridor behind her shook again, this time not from an attack, but from something charging forward.

A familiar magical signature, unmistakably Draco, hit her bond so hard she gasped.

He’s here, thank Godric he’s here.

A figure burst through the smoke behind the Order’s defensive line, silver-blonde hair catching the firelight and in his hands blazed a sword. Not just any sword. THE sword. Godric Gryffindor’s.

Hermione’s breath lodged in her throat, everything around her narrowing to a single point. Draco. Draco, gripping the flaming ruby hilt, with an expression like battle had sculpted itself onto his face, running straight for her as if she were gravity.

She felt it before she saw it, the warmth curling through her chest and pushing into her extremities.

Of course you pulled it. Of course you did. You should have been a Gryffindor all along, you impossible, infuriating, brilliant boy.

He reached her in a swirl of smoke.

“You—” Hermione choked, dizzy with relief. “Draco—how—”

“No time,” he said, breathless, eyes scanning her quickly, desperately, like checking she was still whole. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” Hermione breathed. “Just singed.”

“Good.” His shoulders eased by a fraction. “Let’s keep it that way.”

A jet of green light whipped past them.

Hermione jerked, but Draco grabbed her robes and yanked her down behind a toppled pillar.

“Careful!” he snapped.

“You’re the one waving a sword around—”

“It’s a very effective sword!”

“You should NOT enjoy this as much as you do—”

“I’m actually terrified,” he admitted under his breath.

Her heart clenched. Another explosion rattled the ceiling. Draco hauled her to her feet again.

“Where’s Blaise?” Hermione demanded over the roar of spells.

Draco parried a curse with the sword, actual parrying, sparks bursting off the blade—and snarled, “Went to find Harry.”

Hermione froze. “What?”

“He said he knew where Harry was going,”Draco said through gritted teeth. “Said he’d drag him back by the hair if he had to.”

Hermione’s stomach bottomed out. Harry. Blaise. Alone. Together. Out there. Her panic flared and a sickly purple curse shot toward them. Too fast. She whipped up her wand and Draco swung the sword but weren’t fast enough. But someone else was.

“PROTEGO!”

A shimmering barrier erupted in front of them. Hermione’s eyes widened.

“Narcissa—?!”

Narcissa Malfoy stood like a specter amid the smoke, pale hair windswept, wand arm steady as steel. Her shield absorbed the curse with a deafening crack. Her expression was lethal and undeniably maternal.

“Nobody harms my children,” she said coldly, stepping in front of Draco and Hermione. A Death Eater lunged from the left with their wand raised. A red bolt slammed into his back. Hermione turned just in time to see another masked figure stride forward and rip the mask from his own face. Lucius Malfoy. Hair loosened, jaw tight, a man carved of tension and regret. He tore off his Death Eater robe, letting it hit the floor like something he’d long wanted to burn. Two more Death Eaters charged at him. He stunned them both in a single, sharp flick. Then he moved to Narcissa’s side. The hall went silent for half a heartbeat, stunned. And then a bark of laughter exploded over the fighting.

Sirius.

“Well bloody hell!” he shouted across the chaos. “Trust Lucy to pick the most dramatic moment imaginable to announce he’s done playing dress-up!”

Lucius glared murderously. Sirius simply grinned. Even Remus, mid-duel, huffed a disbelieving laugh. “Only you would announce your defection mid-battle, Lucius.”

“I am not defecting,” Lucius snapped, blasting a masked figure into a wall. “I am revealing my true allegiances. This has been twenty years in the making.”

“Same thing!” Sirius yelled.

Draco groaned. “Is this really the time for this?”

Hermione barely had time to breathe, torn between terror and ridiculousness and the overwhelming relief that Draco’s family, their family, was here fighting beside him.

Before she could gather her thoughts a voice rolled over the corridor like thunder. Cold, high, and unnatural.

“Hogwartsssss.”

Every wand froze. Every breath stilled. Even the walls seemed to quiver.

“Sssstop the shed of magical blood. Death eaters, retreat. Harry Potter hassss one hour to present himself to me.

Or I will enter the castle myself… and show no mercy to those who defend him.”

Hermione felt her heart collapse inward.

No.

Her eyes flew wildly across the hall, accounting for faces. Sirius. Remus. Draco. Narcissa. Lucius. Theo. Ginny. All alive, but all realizing the same thing, Harry was missing. Sirius’s face drained of all color. “Where—where is he—WHERE IS HE?!”

Remus spun in a full circle, chest heaving. “Harry! HARRY!”

Hermione’s pulse roared in her ears. Then footsteps pounded toward them. Ron.

“HAVE YOU SEEN HIM?” Ron shouted, sliding to a stop, face white. “He was right behind me the whole way down here, I swear! And then I got stopped by some death eaters and I had to help my Dad and then I looked back and he was gone!”

Hermione felt the ground tilt under her feet. Her vision tunneled. Her breath broke.

“He’s—he’s going to him,” she whispered, voice cracking. “Harry’s going to Voldemort.”

Sirius grabbed her shoulders. “No! We’ll find him, Kitten.”

But Hermione couldn’t hear over her rapidly beating heart. Her chest felt too tight. Her were thoughts too loud. How had she let this happen? Her best friend.

“Draco—” she rasped, reaching for him.

He caught her hand instantly.

“I’m here,” he said fiercely. “I’m here, Hermione. Blaise already said he was going to stop him. We’ll find them both. I swear it.”

But Hermione only shook her head, tears burning hot in her eyes. Because deep down, under the terror, under the battle, she already knew. Harry was doing the one thing she couldn’t stop. Walking toward death.

+++

Severus

Severus Snape had always known that Harry Potter would one day walk directly into the jaws of fate. He had also, long ago, accepted that he would have to be there when it happened. He just hadn’t expected to be the one dragging the boy away from death instead of toward it. He stalked through the half-collapsed corridor, robes whispering behind him like an angry shadow, wand drawn, Dark Mark burning hot under his sleeve. It pulsed in sickening rhythm with the thundering in his temples.

Of course Albus Dumbledore had slithered off the moment the fighting began. Snape’s lips twisted.

He hadn’t always hated the boy. No, that was a lie. He had hated him, on sight, from the very instant he stepped into Hogwarts with James Potter’s face and James Potter’s swagger and James Potter’s talent for attracting trouble like a magnet.

But as the years passed, the hatred had become… complicated. Because Harry had Lily’s stubbornness. Lily’s impulse to protect others before himself. Lily’s infuriating righteousness. Lily’s eyes. And Lily’s capacity for sacrifice. That was what terrified Severus the most. The child didn’t know how to save himself. Because Dumbledore hadn’t taught him.

He’d groomed him. Piece by piece, twinkling eyes and pleasant words, “for the greater good.”

Severus had swallowed the bile one year after another. Until Draco and Hermione had come to his office over a month ago, ash-faced and shaking, and told him about the horcruxes. The truth had burst open inside his head like shattered glass. Because Dumbledore had known that Voldemort’s soul was scattered in pieces like dust in the wind and that Harry would have to die to defeat him. He also knew that Severus Snape, who had already watched another black haired teen boy lose his life to this war, would never allow it. Not if there was any other path to explore. Not if love still meant anything. So Dumbledore had said nothing. Severus should have killed him then.

He walked faster, boots splashing through puddles of sinkwater from the broken pipes underfoot. His breath fogged in the cold draft rushing through the damaged castle walls. He turned down a ruined side corridor, before sensing magic. Voices. He edged toward the archway of a tucked-away alcove.

“…you know what must happen, Harry.”

Dumbledore.

Snape crept forward, the shadows hugging him like old friends. Harry stood beneath the flickering torchlight, fists clenched, face ghost-white and terrified but trying, always trying, to be brave. A child forced into the skin of a soldier.

“I don’t—” Harry rasped. His voice broke. “Professor, I don’t want to die.”

Snape had to press a hand to the wall to keep upright.

“Few heroes ever do,” Dumbledore said gently. “But destiny requires courage. You were chosen for a reason. The prophecy states—”

“I know what it says!” Harry shouted, breathing uneven. “But there has to be another way—”

A new voice sliced in.

“No. No, Harry, stop!”

Blaise Zabini stepped out from behind a cracked pillar, bruised, panting, wand trembling in his hand. Fear and fury burned in his eyes.

Snape startled. Zabini? How did—

“Blaise?” Harry whispered, shocked.

Blaise grabbed both of Harry’s arms. “You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to decide you’re a sacrificial lamb. I—” His voice fractured. “I won’t let you.”

Harry’s throat bobbed. “Blaise.”

“I love you, you idiot,” Blaise choked. “I love you. And I’m not losing you to a prophecy or to him or to anyone.”

Severus inhaled sharply. Harry swayed as if struck. Dumbledore’s expression tightened. “Young man, you must step aside.”

“No.” Blaise spreads his arms in front of Harry like a shield. “Find another solution. You always told us choice matters, so let him choose.”

For a moment, an agonizing moment, Harry does hesitate. His gaze flicked between Blaise and Dumbledore. His breathing stuttered. Dumbledore’s face settled into a mask of weary disappointment.

“Very well,” he murmured.

His wand raises. Snape feels the curse building before the old man even opens his mouth.

“No—” Snape whispered, too late.

“Imperio.”

The word is soft. Almost compassionate. But the intent is monstrous. A blast of cold magic floods the alcove. Harry’s eyes went glassy. Blaise screamed. Snape moved.

“EXPELLIARMUS!”

The spell slammed into Dumbledore like a cannon blast. His wand jerked out of the Imperius arc, skittering sparks off the stone wall. The old wizard’s head snapped around.

“Ah,” Dumbledore says quietly. “Severus.”

His blue eyes glinted, not with warmth but with purpose. Snape stepped fully into the open, wand extended. “Enough.”

Harry staggered, blinking, pulling Blaise into him with a strangled gasp.

“Go,” Snape ordered sharply. “Now. Both of you.”

“Professor—” Harry whispered.

“GO!”

Blaise gripped Harry’s wrist and dragged him down the corridor. Dumbledore flicked his wand toward them. Snape’s curse hit first.

“SERPENSORTIA IGNIS!”

A flaming viper erupted from the ground, coiling between Dumbledore and the boys. It snapped its jaws and spit fire, forcing Dumbledore to redirect. The boys disappeared around the far corner. Dumbledore exhaled, disappointed. “Severus. Must you make this so difficult?”

“You tried to enslave him,” Snape snarled. “A child. Lily’s child.”

“He is the only hope the rest have to survive this,” Dumbledore said. There was no guilt. Only conviction. “I cannot allow emotion to cloud necessity. Once Harry sacrifices himself, I will be able to hunt down and eliminate the other horcruxes. Voldemort will be defeated.”

“And if your curse takes you before you finish the job?”

“Then I shall pass the task on to the Order, but die a hero.”

“Hero?” Snape spit. “I see no hero, here.”

Dumbledore’s wand rose.

“You have made your choice,” the old wizard says softly. “I am truly sorry.”

The duel ignited.

Snape struck first.

“Fulgur Tempestas!”

Lightning forked from his wand tip. Dumbledore countered with a sweeping shield of shimmering silver, the lightning diffusing around him in crackling sparks.

He retaliated instantly.

“Oppugno Borealis!”

A freezing gale roared forward. Snape conjured a wall of obsidian armor, but frost fractured its edges. He rolled aside as icicles speared the floor where his chest had been. Their magic collided again and again. The alcove shook under the weight of their spells. Stone splinters. Air warps. Dumbledore moved like a storm. Snape moved like a blade. This was not a duel between master and subordinate. This was a duel between equals, both deadly. Both unyielding.

“Stop this nonsense, Severus!” Dumbledore called over the blast of their clashing spells. “You know the consequence if Harry lives. You know what must be done.”

“I know you’ve lost your mind,” Snape snapped, sending a curse that detonated a pillar behind the old wizard. “And I am done indulging it.”

Dumbledore slashed his wand.

A rope of blazing yellow magic cracked across the room like a whip.

Snape blocked, barely, but the backlash sent him sliding.

“This is the only path,” Dumbledore said, voice rising. “Harry must go!”

Snape bared his teeth. “Over my dead body.”

Their spells crashed, exploding into shards of hot blue light. Snape saw an opening and flicked his wand upward.

“Levicorpus!”

Dumbledore jerked upward by the ankle, robes billowing but with a twist of his hand he broke the spell midair, landing lightly on his feet. He flicked his wand once. A cutting curse flew, faster than anything Snape had time to counter. The pain was overwhelming. Severus crashed to the ground, breath punched out of his lungs, blood pooling instantly under his ribs. Dumbledore lowered his wand. His face unreadable.

“Forgive me, Severus,” he whispered. “But destiny cannot be delayed.”

He turned and began to walk away, disappearing into the shadows.

Snape lay there, blood seeping hot between his fingers, breath rattling. Vision blurring. His thoughts slow. So this is it. Not in glory. Not in triumph. Not even for Lily. Just bleeding out on Hogwarts stone. He exhaled a shuddered, resigned sigh.

Then,

“Oh, you’re dying.”

A soft, dreamy voice drifted in from the doorway. Snape blinked sluggishly.

Luna Lovegood knelt beside him, serene as moonlight, her hands cupped around a small glass vial filled with molten gold.

“Not ideal,” she added mildly. “You don’t look very comfortable.”

“Miss Lovegood? H-how—” Snape coughed.

She unstoppered the vial and dripped shimmering liquid onto his wound. It burned then cooled…then knitted flesh together as if time itself rewound. Severus sucked in a sharp breath. Phoenix tears.

“How—did you—”

“Fawkes gave them to me before she flew away,” Luna spoke gently. “I asked very nicely.”

Snape stared at her.

“Why—help—me?”

Luna hummed softly, wiping blood away from his skin with her sleeve. “Because your time isn’t over yet, Professor Snape. You still have things to do.”

The pain ebbed as his eyes grew heavy. She patted the top of his head like comforting a fevered child.

“Sleep now. We’ll need you when the castle wakes up.”

Her voice faded. Severus Snape let go. And darkness took him gentle and warm for the first time in years.

+++

Luna

The castle felt wrong.

Luna drifted through the smoke-thick corridors, her shoes tapping gently against cracked cobblestones. Everyone else was running, shouting, panicking. But Luna walked the way she always did, like she was following a ribbon only she could see. A ribbon that tugged at her heart and whispered. Hurry. He doesn’t have long. The air tasted like burnt cinnamon and ash. Fear made flavors sharper. She touched the cool wall with her fingertips. Hogwarts throbbed faintly beneath her palm, like a living creature struggling to breathe.

“It’s all right,” she whispered to the castle. “We’re trying.”

She had left Professor Snape resting in the protected alcove she’d fashioned for him, wrapped in wards and disillusionment. His breathing had steadied, and his magic curled around him like a wounded animal finally accepting care. But Luna’s mind had already moved beyond him.

Her dream.

It had returned to her in bright, terrible flashes of clarity. Harry’s body writhing in a circle of ancient runes. Black smoke shrieking as it tore free. The dream had been correct about Snape. It would be correct about this, too. She followed the ribbon tugging at her ribs until she reached the abandoned Charms classroom. Raised voices echoed inside; anger made the walls vibrate.

“…You’re not dying for this,” Blaise growled, pacing like a caged panther. “I won’t let you.”

Harry shot back, “It’s not your decision—!”

“It bloody well is when the alternative is you walking into Voldemort’s wand alone!”

“You don’t understand—”

“No, you don’t understand,” Blaise hissed, and his voice cracked dangerously. “You are not expendable. I won’t let you be.”

Harry’s breath shuddered. “Blaise…”

Luna stepped inside, dust motes drifting around her like tiny planets.

“You two are very loud,” she said pleasantly.

Both boys jumped. Harry’s hair was wild, his glasses askew, his face pale with exhaustion and fear. Blaise’s hands shook from adrenaline. They looked like two exhausted soldiers on the verge of breaking. Luna smiled softly. They quieted instantly.

“Good,” she said. “I need your attention. It’s almost time.”

Harry blinked. “What time?”

“The time to save you,” Luna answered.

Blaise froze. “Save him… how?”

“I had a dream,” Luna said simply, “and the castle confirmed it.”

Blaise stepped closer, eyes searching hers. “Luna… do you really know how to—?”

“Yes,” she said, because she did. “I know how to remove the horcrux without killing him.”

“Harry’s jaw dropped, stunned. “Luna, are you sure—?” Before he could finish, Blaise whispered, not fierce this time, but something quieter, weightier.

“I trust her.”

Luna felt the truth of it hum around them like a charm taking root.

She turned toward the corridor.

“Come with me. We need the others.”

+++

The DA coin glowed warm in her palm, like it recognized urgency. Her thumb brushed across the surface as she whispered the message the message. Come to the Room of Requirement. Now. This is how we save Harry.

The coin flashed once, copper to gold, and it was done. Harry walked beside her in silence, sweat beading on his forehead. Blaise stayed close, shoulders tense, wand drawn, eyes constantly marking exits. As they ascended two flights of stairs, Luna felt magic shift in the air. Footsteps thundered from distant corridors. They were coming.

Good.

+++

The door to the RoR appeared, a tall archway of carved wood, glowing with internal light. The moment Luna stepped inside, she was swallowed by warmth, and an overwhelming wave of relief. She waited as the others appeared one by one.

Draco first, Sword of Gryffindor strapped to his hip like a knight from an old story. His eyes zeroed in on Harry instantly, relief, fury, and bone-deep fear all tangled together.

Hermione and Ron next, charging towards Harry before anyone else could reach him.

Hermione collided into him, sobbing into his shoulder, gripping him so tightly he winced.

Ron pulled him into a hard, trembling hug, muttering into Harry’s ear,

“Don’t you ever bloody disappear like that again.”

Then Ginny wiped tears on her sleeve and hugged Harry, her breath shuddering. Remus put a steadying hand on Harry’s back. Sirius clapped him on the shoulder hard enough to make him grunt.

Narcissa and Lucius both nodded at the boy with warmth; the older Malfoys had the hollow-eyed look of people who were looking at a ghost. Theo hung back, trying to look unaffected and failing miserably.

Finally, Neville approached with quiet steadiness only Neville could manage. “We were so worried, mate.”

Harry’s throat bobbed. “I—I have so much to tell all of you, I just—”

“Not now,” Luna said gently.

Everyone turned toward her.

“Not when time is running so quickly. We have less than an hour before Voldemort reaches the entrance hall.”

The room fell silent. Even Sirius’s grin died.

+++

Luna held up the small crystal vial of basilisk venom that she’d been carrying with her since destroying the diadem.

“Basilisk venom destroys horcruxes,” she said. “We saw proof in the locket, the cup, and the diadem.”

Hermione nodded shakily. “Right.”

“But basilisk venom also kills the host,”Draco said quietly.

“Yes,” Luna agreed. “Which is why I’ll be using this—”

She lifted a second vial. The remaining phoenix tears still glowed like molten gold, swirling with soft firelight.

Remus gasped. “Is that?”

“Phoenix tears,” Luna confirmed.

“Fawkes… gave you that?”

The girl nodded once.

“Yes. In my dream, she said I’d need them today.” Luna replied. “She’s very good with timing.”

Remus stepped closer to her, speaking in hushed tones. “Luna… you realize how dangerous this is.”

“Yes,” she said simply. “The whispers have told me that it is difficult to bring someone back from the doorway of death. But it’s the only way. And Harry doesn’t have to die…for long, anyway.”

Harry stared at the vials, then at her.

“What do you need me to do?” he whispered.

Luna offered him her hand.

“Lie down in the circle. Blaise will keep you steady. And no matter how difficult it might feel…you have to choose to come back.”

The Room of Requirement responded with a low, rumbling groan. The floor rippled like water until a large circular ritual platform emerged. Runes carved themselves into glowing grooves. Old and ancient magic, magic that smelled like dust, blood, and history. Harry stepped into the circle. Blaise knelt behind him and pulled Harry against his chest, bracing him with steady arms.

Hermione took Harry’s hand. Ron stood guard beside her. Draco positioned himself right of Hermione, providing what little support he could. Luna stepped into the center. The venom vial grew warm in her palm, like it sensed what was coming.

+++

“Ready?” Luna asked.

Harry nodded once.

Blaise whispered, “I’ve got you,” voice shaking.

Luna pressed the tip of her wand to Harry’s scar.

“Diffindo minor.”

Harry’s scar split open. For a moment, just a heartbeat, she felt something cold beneath her touch. Something old and wrong. Then, black, oily smoke exploded out, shrieking in a sound that tore through the air like metal ripping apart.

Harry screamed. His body arched violently being going entirely limp. Blaise held him, arms locked, trembling with effort and fear.

“Wake up!” Blaise gasped. “Stay—Harry, please—!”

The drop of venom hit the open wound with a blood-curdling hiss. The smoke writhed madly, thrashing like a creature being burned alive. Hermione sobbed openly. Ron flinched. Draco muttered a horrified curse. But Luna simply counted aloud.

Twenty-eight.

Twenty-nine.

Thirty.

She uncorked the phoenix tears. The gold liquid spilled into the wound, before brightness erupted, blinding the room in a golden light. Chasing the black smoke away like a patronus to a dementor. Wind, seemingly appearing out of no where, roared through the room, lifting robes, rattling torches.

The black smoke gave one final, monstrous shriek—then vanished. Harry was still collapsed against Blaise’s chest. But the lightning-shaped scar had softened into a faint silver line. Barely visible. It was gone. The horcrux was gone.

Silence.

And then Harry drew in a deep and ragged breath.

+++

Everyone moved at once.  Hermione and Ginny tackled Luna, arms wrapped tight around her, sobbing into her hair. Ron scooped her up next.

“You—are—BRILLIANT!”

Neville hugged her so hard her feet left the floor. Sirius grabbed her and spun her.

“Our savior!”

But Blaise didn’t move toward her. He only held Harry, arms wrapped protectively around him, forehead pressed to Harry’s temple, shaking with relief.

Luna smiled softly at the sight.

+++

Remus cleared his throat. “The adults need to get to the entrance hall. Voldemort will be here soon.”

“No way,” Ginny said instantly. “We’re coming.”

Hermione wiped her tears, rising up to stand beside her friend. “We deserve to finish this.”

Ron nodded. “We’re not hiding.”

Draco stepped forward, lifting the Sword of Gryffindor.

“And someone still needs to kill the snake.”

The adults exchanged grim glances.

Finally Sirius groaned, “Fine. But you stick with us.”

“Side by side,” Remus added.

Narcissa lifted her chin. “We won’t lose any more children tonight.”

As they prepared to leave, Harry stood, a bit shaky, but alive.

“Wait,” he said.

Everyone paused.

Harry swallowed hard.

“On the way down… I need to tell you something.”

His voice cracked.

“It’s about Dumbledore.”

 

 

 

Chapter 67

Harry’s confession about Dumbledore came in fractured pieces as they hurried through the corridors—About the Imperius. About the plan that hadn’t been a plan at all, only martyrdom dressed up as guidance. About Snape stepping in, Blaise standing in front of him, and how close he had come to being marched spellbound to his own execution.

Hermione listened with her heart in her throat, every step echoing with the weight of what had almost happened.

“He tried to make you,” Ron said hoarsely, keeping pace beside Harry. “He tried to force you to sacrifice yourself like a fucking chess piece.”

Harry nodded once, jaw tight. “He thought it was the only way.”

“The only way for him,” Sirius snapped, striding ahead like a barely leashed predator. “Not for you.”

Remus’s hand closed briefly on Harry’s shoulder as they turned a corner. “You’re not alone. Never again,” he said quietly. “Whatever comes next we face it together.”

The castle trembled beneath their feet as they descended the final staircase. The wards screamed, an almost-living sound Hermione felt in her bones. Voldemort was close.

The great double doors of the Entrance Hall loomed ahead, scarred and reinforced with layer upon layer of magic. The air swirled with smoke and fear. They burst through the doors. The Order was already there.

Kingsley stood near the center of the hall, robes torn, face streaked with blood, wand still steady. McGonagall flanked him, her posture tall despite the exhaustion etched into every line of her face. Moody leaned heavily on his cane, magical eye spinning wildly as it tracked invisible threats.

When Harry entered the hall everything shifted. There was a collective intake of breath amidst the ripple of disbelief.

“He’s still alive,” someone whispered.

McGonagall’s sharp eyes found him instantly. “Mr. Potter.”

Harry stepped forward before anyone could stop him. “We’re not surrendering.”

A murmur rolled through the hall.

Kingsley nodded once. “Good. Because we will not back down. Hogwarts stands, and we stand with it. We fight until the end.”

Harry swallowed, then lifted his chin. “We won’t be fighting blindly,” he said. “We have a plan.”

Before anyone could ask, the temperature dropped. The torches lining the walls guttered, their flames going low. Frost crept across the marble floor in thin, snapping veins. Then the voice came. It poured through the hall like poison through water, cold and caustic.

“Since you have failed to surrender Harry Potter… you will now face my wrath.”

A breath of silence, and then the doors exploded inward. Once again, the remaining Death Eaters surged into the hall. And behind them, Voldemort.

“DEFENSIVE FORMATIONS!” Kingsley roared.

The hall detonated into chaos. Spells collided midair, cracking like thunder. A curse blasted into the far wall, sending chunks of marble raining down.

Hermione barely had time to raise her shield before a slicing hex glanced off it, numbing her arm to the elbow. Then Draco was there. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her behind a fallen column just as green light scorched the air where her head had been.

“Are you hurt?” he demanded.

“No—are you—”

“Still stubbornly alive,” he said, trying for levity and failing.

She laughed once, breathless and terrified, and pressed her forehead to his. “If you die, I’ll kill you.”

His mouth curved faintly. “Fair.”

His hand came up, cupping her cheek through the grime and sweat. “I love you,” he said, fierce and unhesitating.

Her eyes burned. “I love you too.”

They kissed, quick and grounding, and then broke apart, backs to each other, wands up.

Nearby, Theo ducked a curse and skidded into Ginny’s side.

“You good, sweetheart?” he shouted.

Ginny blasted a Death Eater off his feet. “Ask me after we survive!”

He grinned, wild and brilliant. “I love you.”

She snorted then smiled, soft and real. “Yeah,” she said. “I love you too.”

Across the room Voldemort raised his wand. A wave of dark magic slammed outward, shattering shields, throwing fighters across the hall like dolls. Hermione hit the ground hard, breath tearing from her lungs.

Then, a phoenix cry split the air. Blue-white fire descended from above as Albus Dumbledore appeared in a clap of light between Voldemort and the defenders, robes billowing, eyes blazing.

Conflict twisted in Hermione’s chest. She had looked up to the man before them for so many years, followed him blindly to whatever end. And she knew, despite his manipulations, his goal was to best Voldemort. But ultimately, he had tried to let Harry die, and for that she would never forgive him.

“Tom,” he said calmly. “It ends tonight.”

Their duel shook the castle. Fire roared and water surged. Light and shadow collided in explosions that cracked stone and rattled bones. Voldemort laughed as he fought, his joy manic and terrible. Dumbledore flicked his wrist sharply, sending a blasting curse towards Voldemort that sent him tumbling sideways. The brief distraction was all he needed, Dumbledore turned.

“Harry, my boy!” he called. “It’s not too late. Come forward!.”

“No!” Sirius roared. “He’s not your boy and he’ll never come to you!”

The adults and Harry’s friends moved as one—closing ranks around him, wands raised, bodies shielding him. They kept their promise, he would never be alone again. Dumbledore hesitated at the display of loyalty. And Voldemort, from the cobblestones, struck.

A curse like liquid night tore through the air and slammed into Dumbledore’s chest. He fell. The sound of his body hitting the floor echoed through the hall.

Voldemort laughed maniacally. “You see? Your precious leader of the light dies! And Harry Potter is next! Your hope is dead, bow down to me!”

“No,” Neville cried out.

He stepped forward, shaking but unbroken. His shoulders set in that determined way that called to the very foundation of the Gryffindor house.

“I will never bow to you.”

Voldemort snapped his serpentine like focus on the young boy, red eyes blazing.

“You dare to speak against the Dark Lord?!”

As Voldemort was distracted, Draco burst from his cover according to plan, the Sword of Gryffindor blazing like a living star. He charged forward at a full sprint. For a single, suspended heartbeat, the world seemed to hold its breath. Nagini, from Voldemort’s right side, noticed the incoming presence. Her mouth opened wide, fangs glistening as she struck, but Draco was ready. The blade sang as it cleaved downward, fire flaring along the ruby-studded hilt. There was resistance—thick and unnatural—then a wet, final thud as the sword completed its arc. Nagini’s head hit the stone and rolled. Her body convulsed once, then collapsed, dissolving into black shadow.

Voldemort screamed.

The sound was not human. It ripped through the hall, a raw, enraged shriek that cracked windows and sent witches and wizards staggering. Magic detonated outward in a shockwave that blasted Draco backward. He hit the floor hard, skidding across the marble. Voldemort spun toward him, eyes narrowed into slits, wand already lifting.

“You—” he hissed. “You dare—”

Lucius Malfoy ran and placed himself directly in front of Draco. The movement was instinctive and absolute.

“You will not touch him.”

Voldemort’s laughter cut sharp as a spear.“Lucius,” he purred. “Step aside.”

But Lucius did not move.

“Do not forget yourself,” Voldemort continued softly, dangerously. “You owe me everything. Your influence. Your power. Your life.”

Lucius lifted his chin, silver hair wild, robes torn and stained with soot and blood. His wand trembled but his voice did not.

“I owe you nothing.”

The hall went deathly still. Voldemort’s smile vanished.

“What did you say?” he asked, quietly.

Lucius met his gaze fully. “I said I owe you nothing. I never believed in you. Not truly. Not your cause. Not your delusions of godhood. You may have had my father tricked, but never me.”

A ripple of shock ran through the Death Eaters still standing.

“You served me for years.”

“I survived you,” Lucius corrected. “There is a difference.”

Voldemort advanced a step, fury radiating from him in waves. “Then why,” he hissed, “did you kneel to me when I returned? Begged for my forgiveness?”

Lucius’s mouth twisted, not in fear, but in disgust.

“Because kneeling kept my family alive,” he said. “And because while you were obsessed with regaining your power, I was busy undermining you every step of the way.”

Voldemort’s magic flared violently.

“You lie.”

“I do not,” Lucius said. “I sabotaged your networks. I leaked information. I delayed your plans. I kept you distracted so that Harry Potter and the Order could destroy your horcruxes. Which they have, every single one.”

Recognition and horror dawned in Voldemort’s eyes.

“You,” he breathed. “You were the rot.”

Lucius smiled mockingly, it looked more like a snarl. “I serve to please you, my lord.”

Voldemort screamed in rage and attacked. The duel exploded between them. Dark magic crashed against silver shields. Lucius was fast, precise, but Voldemort was monstrous. Curses slammed into the floor, tearing trenches through stone. Voldemort struck with savage power, forcing Lucius back step by step.

“CRUCIO!”

Lucius screamed as the curse hit, collapsing to one knee but he did not drop his wand.

He fired back blindly. “INCENDIO!”

Flames roared. Voldemort walked through them unharmed.

“You are nothing without me!” Voldemort snarled, blasting Lucius’s wand clean out of his hand. It skittered across the floor.

Lucius stood anyway. Voldemort raised his wand, roaring. And Sirius Black stepped in.

“Oi, Voldy!” Sirius shouted.

A jet of brilliant red magic slammed into Voldemort’s shield, forcing him back a step.

Voldemort turned slowly, eyes glittering. “Ah. The blood traitor Black heir.”

Sirius grinned savagely. “Still obsessed with titles, are you? Funny. I always thought you’d die choking on your own ego.”

They dueled.

Sirius moved recklessly, brilliantly, laughing even as curses screamed past his head. The bit of Black madness that lived within him flaring.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Sirius taunted. “You killed kids better than this!”

Voldemort snarled and retaliated, hurling Sirius across the hall. He hit a pillar hard, but rolled to his feet, wand already up.

It was then that Remus joined him, slipping seamlessly into position at Sirius’s side.

“Together,” Remus said quietly.

“Always,” Sirius replied.

They fought as one. Remus’s magic was controlled, precise, shielding and striking in perfect balance with Sirius’s wild offensive spells. For a moment, just a moment, they drove Voldemort back. Then Voldemort roared. A blast of pure force erupted outward, slamming both men off their feet. They crashed to the floor, wands skidding out of reach. Voldemort stalked toward them, wand raised.

“You die together,” he hissed.

Green light began to gather.

But behind him a limping figure emerged from the smoke.

Severus Snape.

His blood crusted his robes. His face was pale and drawn. But his wand arm was steady. His voice cut through the chaos, low and lethal.

“Avada Kedavra.”

The curse struck Voldemort square in the back. And for the first time, Lord Voldemort looked surprised.

He turned, or tried to, anyway. But his body fractured, cracks of green light splitting through him, and then he shattered like a glass dropping onto stone. Ash fell.

It drifted to the floor like snow. And in mere seconds, the Dark Lord ceased to exist.

Silence swallowed the room.

No laughter. No screaming. No darkness pressing at their minds. Only the sound of breath returning to lungs that had forgotten how. The war was over.

At last.

Notes:

Only 2 chapters left!!

Chapter 68

It had been three hours since Voldemort fell. Hogwarts felt like a place of in-betweens. Between life and death, hope and sorrow, love and hate. Hermione had spent the last hour watching the aurors take away the death eaters. She was impressed by the way Kingsley’s voice had cut cleanly through the noise with authority. “Aurors, with me. We’re not finished yet.”

That had snapped everything into motion. The Aurors fanned out, efficient and relentless.

“Hands where I can see them.”

“Wands down. Now.”

One by one, the remaining Death Eaters were disarmed, bound, and escorted away. No speeches. No spectacle. Just consequences. When it was over, Kingsley passed her briefly, exhaustion lining his face.

“You did well today, Miss Granger,” he said firmly.

She swallowed. “So did you, sir.”

For the first time, she believed it was truly over.

Now with the enemy cleared the Hall buzzed with overlapping voices—laughter breaking into sobs, cheers dissolving into quiet disbelief. Hermione stood in the ruins and listened as families reunited in frantic clusters.

“Mum—Dad—no, I’m fine, really,” she heard Ginny insist, only to be immediately crushed into a hug of Weasleys anyway.

Somewhere in the crowd she knew that the Malfoys were together, waiting for her, but she wasn’t ready yet. She couldn’t soothe the shake in her hands, or the tension in her bones. She still needed to move.

Grief crept in quietly, threading itself between the moments of relief. Hermione knelt beside the body of Colin Creevey and felt something inside her fracture. She pressed her palm to the stone, grounding herself before standing again. There would be time to mourn the dead later. For now, there were still countless injured people to attend to. Hermione made her way to the makeshift infirmary area with a determined set to her shoulders.

“I can help here,” she told Madam Pomfrey, voice steadier than she felt.

“Do what you can, and don’t stop,” Pomfrey replied briskly.

She didn’t. She stitched the skin around wounds back together with spells, fixed broken bones, murmured calming charms, and pressed potions into shaking hands.

“Thank you,” someone whispered, gripping her wrist.

“I’ve got you,” Hermione replied automatically—and then paused. The words felt right. Necessary.

Later, when her hands finally stilled, she realized the truth settling into her bones: I can do this. I should do this.

Healing wasn’t just mending flesh. It was presence. Readiness. It was choosing to stay. And she would.

+++

Harry had vanished from the crowds sometime after she’d started healing. When she was done, her magic nearly exhausted, Hermione found Ron pacing near the doors to the quickly emptying hall.

“He’s gone off somewhere,” Ron said flatly.

“Of course,” she sighed. “And he’s probably doing that thing where he pretends he’s fine.”

“Brilliant,” Ron muttered. “Where do you reckon?”

She didn’t answer—just started walking.

As they passed Draco, Hermione slowed. A pang of guilt rattled her chest, she’d barely seen him since the battle was over, since she’d ran to his side after slaying Nagini.

“I just need to—” she began uncertainly.

Draco smiled softly. “I know. Go. He needs you both.”

She hesitated. “Find me later?”

“Always, love,” he said, then added lightly, “Try not to save the world again without me.”

Smiling, she pulled him in for a passionate kiss. Only stopping when she heard the wolf whistle that rang out behind them. Both turned to the sound to see Seamus, Dean, and a few of the other Gryffindors watching them with teasing grins. Well, there were no secrets anymore.

Seamus chuckled, “Oi, Granger and Malfoy! I think I may owe you an apology. Swore she’d end up with Nott. I owe Nev two galleons!”

Ron snorted beside Draco who rolled his eyes good naturedly. Hermione laughed before she could stop herself.

+++

Ron and Hermione were nearly to the entrance to the Astronomy Tower when the door opened before them. Blaise Zabini stepped out, assessing them as if he was expecting the pair.

“How’s he doing?” Ron asked.

“He’s…okay,” Zabini replied slowly. “I think he needs his best friends.”

“He needs you too, you know,” Hermione gave him a gentle smile. “Don’t ever doubt that.”

Blaise smiled back, genuine and with a hint of relief.

“Alright, go do whatever pseudo therapy debriefing that you three do after your brushes with death. You must have the routine down by now with how often it’s happened over the past six years.”

Hermione reached out and squeezed Blaise’s arm in a gesture of comfort and gratitude.

“Thank you, Blaise, for saving him. If you hadn’t been there…”

“Don’t worry about the what ifs, Granger,” Blaise spoke softly. “I was there, he’s alive, that’s all that matters.”

Hermione nodded once, wiping away the tears that had collected in the corners of her eyes. Ron clapped Blaise on the shoulder and they exchanged nods. Then the pair moved forward as Blaise retreated silently down the hall.

They found Harry on the floor, sitting beneath the stars. Ron dropped beside him with a thud.

“Running away from us again?”

Harry huffed. “Just… needed quiet.”

Hermione sat cross-legged in front of him. “You disappeared.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he said. “It was just a lot…Everyone kept looking at me like I’m supposed to feel… triumphant.”

Ron frowned. “Aren’t you?”

“I am,” Harry said quickly. “I just—none of it makes sense. Dumbledore. The prophecy...”

Ron nodded slowly. “Well, prophecies don’t make things happen, Harry. They describe possibilities.”

Hermione scoffed. “And Divination’s mostly rubbish anyway.”

Harry laughed weakly. “Yes, Mione, we know your thoughts on the subject.”

“It’s a load of codswallop,” she grumbled.

Harry smiled, then sobered. “But it turns out I did have the power Voldemort didn’t understand.”

“Love,” Hermione said quietly.

“Family,” Ron added.

“All of us,” Hermione finished.

Harry nodded. It was silent for a moment, and then he groaned suddenly.

“So does this mean I have to… respect Snape now?”

Ron grimaced. “Let’s not go mad. Hermione might like him but he’s still the Bat King of the Dungeons.”

“Ronald he is a professor,” Hermione hissed in outrage. Harry snorted beside her.

“Some things never change.”

The three all looked at each other before breaking down into unexpected laughter.

“What happens next?” Ron asked after their laughter had faded.

Hermione answered without hesitation. “We bury the dead. We rebuild. And then…we have a summer break where there’s no more secrets and no more hiding. Where we can just be kids.”

“Be kids?”

“Yes,” she nodded emphatically. “We’ll sneak fire whisky, throw parties at Malfoy Manor, get magical tattoos. make questionable decisions. The whole lot!”

Harry smiled softly. “I like that plan.”

“I’m in,” Ron agreed, standing. “But I think we need to head back now. Because if we’re gone much longer, Padfoot will come sniff us out.”

++++

One week after the battle.

Funerals blurred together after a while. There had been so many, too many. Ginny hated the way her heart had begun to dull, how grief no longer struck like lightning but settled like a fog.

She stood at yet another graveside of one of her classmates, Theo’s hand warm and steady in hers. Charlie stood on her other side, arms crossed, jaw tight. The eulogy echoed in her head—brave, noble, remembered.

Below them was Colin Creevey’s casket. Yet another person that shouldn’t have been dead. A child killed, fighting a war that wasn’t their own. It was revolting. But still, Ginny remained. Because these people deserved recognition, they deserved an honored goodbye, and she would give it to each and every one of them.

Dumbledore’s funeral had been the hardest. “I don’t want to go. I don’t know how to feel about him,” Ginny had admitted to Hermione in a whispered confession the night before.

“Everything you feel is valid,” Hermione answered. “But we’ll all be with you every step of the way.”

It had been the first one, held on the Hogwarts Grounds beside the Black Lake.

It seemed nearly all of Wizarding Britain had attended. It was grand and crowded and full of contradictions. Ginny had been angry, yes—but part of her had been sad too, and she’d hated herself for that.

Standing here now, she focused on the warmth of Theo’s hand, grounding herself in something real and alive. It felt impossibly nice to hold his hand openly, without fear or secrecy. He glanced down at her, catching the faraway look in her eyes, and murmured, “You look devastatingly beautiful in mourning.” She snorted softly. “You flirt at funerals now?”

“Especially funerals.”

Charlie groaned beside them.

“Merlin help me.”

After the service, they apparated to the gathering area. Luna approached, serene as ever, wearing silver instead of black.

“You know, most people wear black to funerals,” Charlie commented wryly.

Luna smiled up at him. “Silver is better for guiding souls. Black makes them sulk.”

Charlie looked at her bemusedly.

“Right.”

She tilted her head, studying him in that unsettlingly gentle way. “You hide your sadness very well,” she said. “But it’s still there. Like a bruise under dragonhide.”

Charlie blinked, caught off guard. “That obvious, is it?”

“Not to most people,” Luna replied serenely. “But you carry your grief like a shield. It makes your eyes tired.” She smiled faintly. “I don’t like when your eyes are tired.”

He let out a slow breath, gaze drifting toward the lake. “Well, there hasn’t been much time for mourning. And someone needed to be strong for Ginny, for my family. That’s sort of been my job.”

“Yes,” Luna agreed. “But even strong things need time to mend. Time does heal wounds—otherwise the world would be nothing but ghosts.” She paused, then added softly, “She wouldn’t want you to be sad forever.”

Charlie looked at her then, really looked at her, a thoughtful smile tugging at his mouth. “You see things other people don’t, don’t you?”

She shrugged, brushing her fingers along her skirt. “Other people are very busy looking where they’re told.”

He chuckled quietly. “Well… thanks. I think I needed that.”

Luna nodded, satisfied. “You’re welcome,” she said, before turning to speak to Theo—leaving Charlie standing there, oddly lighter, wondering when exactly she’d seen straight through him.

He glanced over at his sister.

“I’m going to go check on Mum, you know how she gets at these things.”

She nodded in agreement and moved closer to Luna as he walked away. Luna watched him too, her eyes distant.

“Interesting,” the blonde said at last.

Ginny frowned, turning to her. “What is?”

“I’ve always wanted to a sister,” Luna said lightly.

Ginny raised a brow. “Are you telling me that you’re going to have one?”

“Not yet,” Luna waved. “Later. Much later.”

“Wait…” Ginny‘s mouth popped open in shock. “Do you mean me?”

Theo leaned in. “Don’t interrogate her. Let the future happen on its own.”

+++

Hermione and Draco joined them moments later. Ginny grinned at her friends who had become closer to family.

“There you two are. Where’ve you been these past few days? Too busy shagging to see us.”

“Ginevra!” Hermione yelped, her cheeks turning pink. “We are at a funeral! Have some respect for the dead.”

“We’re at a wake,” Ginny corrected. “Perfectly acceptable to talk about shagging now. Besides, I’ve been told in far too much detail what Colin used to get up to after curfew, he would’ve welcomed this discussion.”

“He was rather excellent in bed,” Luna agreed dreamily. Draco choked on air as Theo shook his head.

“Never change, Lovegood.”

She beamed back at him.

+++

Luna drifted away without ceremony, silver skirts whispering as she followed something only she could see. She paused once, turned, and offered them a small, knowing wave, as if she were leaving them exactly where they were meant to be, then disappeared into the thinning crowd.

The rest of them lingered only a moment longer before the quiet of the wake became too heavy. Together, they took the winding path down from the castle toward the Black Lake. The sky above was thick with low, unmoving clouds, the sort that dimmed the world without threatening rain, grey and pressed close, like the collective mood of everyone left standing.

They sat along the shore, shoes nudged against damp grass, the lake dark and glassy before them. For a while, no one spoke. Hermione broke the silence first, her voice softer than Ginny was used to hearing it. “It feels strange, doesn’t it? To be here when everything’s… finished.”

“Finished but not done,” Draco said quietly. “That’s the problem.”

Ginny nodded, hugging her knees to her chest. “I keep waiting for the next horrible thing to happen. Like if I relax, I’ll miss it.”

Theo exhaled through his nose, gaze fixed on the water. “You don’t just walk away from a war. You carry it. You just learn how to set it down sometimes.”

Hermione glanced at him, something perceptive in her eyes. “You got news this morning.”

Theo’s jaw tightened. He didn’t look at any of them when he spoke. “My father died in Azkaban. Complications from the injuries he sustained in battle.”

Ginny’s hand tightened around his instantly. Hermione’s breath caught. Draco’s expression shuttered, something sharp and protective flickering there.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione said gently.

Theo shook his head once. “Don’t be. He stopped being my father years ago.” A pause then, quieter but colder, “He deserved what he got. For what he did to mum. For what he helped do to everyone else.”

No one argued.

“Nott Manor,” Theo continued, rubbing a hand over his face, “the estate—and Merlin help me—the lordship. It’s all mine now. I’ve to go to Gringotts, sort titles, assets, wards. The whole mess.”

Ginny hesitated, then blurted, “I can come with you—”

She stopped short, suddenly aware of everyone looking at her, heat rushing to her cheeks. “I mean. If you want. I don’t have to. I just thought—”

Theo turned fully toward her, expression softening into something sure. “Of course you’re coming, G. As future Lady Nott, you’ll need to know everything.”

Her mouth fell open. “Future—“ she let out a weak chuckle. “Well Theodore, I don’t see any courting jewellery anywhere.”

He swallowed.

“Well.”

Draco straightened, eyes lighting with immediate interest. Hermione’s hand flew to her mouth. But all Ginny could focus on was Theo’s next move. He reached into the inner pocket of his coat with visible nerves and pulled out a small, dark box. “I was… waiting for the right moment,” he admitted. “Which I realise now sounds ridiculous, considering everything.”

Ginny, heart pounding, took it with careful fingers, breath shallow as she opened it. Inside lay a delicate bracelet made of white gold, warm against the grey light. Rubies were set like small, steady flames between diamonds that caught even the muted daylight, each stone carefully placed, intentional rather than ostentatious. It was elegant. Understated yet strong, and utterly perfect.

Ginny sucked in a breath. “Theo…”

He shifted closer. “Ginevra Molly Weasley,” he said, voice low but steady, “I knew I would love you from the day you all but told me to piss off when I tried to buy you a drink. And since then, I’ve done everything I can, stupid or not, to make you notice me. Through our friendship I have fallen in love with every piece of you, and it would be my greatest honor if you would accept my courtship. I can’t promise ease, or simplicity—but I can promise honesty. And devotion. And a little bit of chaos. And that if we’re together, life will never be boring again.”

Her eyes stung. She laughed softly, a little breathless. “You’re crazy.”

His shoulders sagged. “That’s a no, then?”

She leaned forward and kissed him before he could finish the thought.

“Yes,” she said against his mouth. “Obviously yes.”

Hermione whooped, abandoning all decorum, while Draco clapped Theo sharply on the shoulder. “About time.”

Theo laughed into Ginny’s hair, relief loosening something in his chest as he pressed his forehead to hers.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, more than anything.”

After a moment, they settled back into the grass, closer now, the weight of the future less sharp for being shared.

“So,” Theo said, stretching his legs out. “Summer.”

Hermione smiled, thoughtful. “No hiding. No plans built around survival.”

“Manor will be open,” Draco added. “For all of you. As much as you want.”

Ginny leaned into Theo, watching the clouds drift slowly overhead. The world still hurt. It always would. But sitting there together, breathing, choosing what came next felt possible.

The Secret Keepers had survived.

Now, they would live.

Notes:

Ahhh only the epilogue left! For anyone who has made it this far, thank you thank you thank you for following along.