Chapter 1: Mudblood Ch 1
Notes:
7/17/2024
Hello readers and Happy Anniversary! One year ago today I posted the first chapter of Clever Witch and started my journey as a dramione fanfic writer. I cannot believe that a) it’s been a whole year since I started this crazy impulsive project and b) that it spiraled into something so much bigger than I ever expected with Hermione’s POV (and possibly more to come *wink* wink*). And what better way to celebrate this milestone than to post the new and improved rewritten version of this story!
Now you may be wondering what changed in the rewrite. The biggest difference is a POV change from first to third person to match with MoL. There are a couple new details and scenes that I have added as well but the story as a whole has not changed. I have also cleaned up some world building and polished some dialogue. I believe these changes were essential to properly tell Draco’s story. I am so much happier with this version and hope you all enjoy it!
Thank you for reading!
Fanart policy - encouraged! If my work inspires your creative juices then have at it and please tag me or dm me your creations. You can find me on tiktok & Instagram under the same user name.
Binding policy - first of all, I would be incredibly honored if anyone wanted to bind any of my works and give permission for personal use or gifts only.
Do not buy bound copies of this or any fic.
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
Clever Witch is a wartime fic. If you feel the characters are acting out of sorts, just remember that this story takes place after 8 years of fighting. Every person deals with trauma differently.
The same pot of boiling water will harden an egg while softening a potato.
Blanket trigger warning for this fic:
Depictions of torture, trauma, major bodily injury, blood, violence, depression, death, adult language and sexual activities.I think that's all of them but let me know if I missed one. I will also remind you that this fic does end with a HEA.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Mudblood
Chapter 1
Draco Malfoy appeared with a soft pop on the edge of the wards that surrounded the old Nott Estate.
“They caught Potter’s mudblood,” Goyle whispered in his ear as they fell into step. Draco had disapparated immediately after receiving the wizard’s cryptic note. At his old lackey’s whispered words, an excited thrill slipped through Draco’s many layers of occlumency.
They moved through the familiar walls of the old Nott house. Even after 6 months, it still felt bizarre to walk through the house he had explored as a child and see it so changed. The Dark Lord had commandeered the estate for his personal use after the death of Nott senior and the disappearance of his son. Five years later Draco’s old friend was presumed dead and the Dark Lord held court in his childhood home. It was a daily occurrence to see people tortured in Theo’s music room, or bodies dumped on the pitch where they used to play quidditch.
That earlier thrill of excitement shifted to a pang of sadness.
Theo should be the one standing by his side, not the bumbling Goyle…
Quicker than it would take to blink, Draco took the unwanted emotion and shoved it into the deepest, darkest recesses of his mind. Feeble sentiments such as sadness and nostalgia represented a weakness that he could not afford. To show any such vulnerability, especially amongst his fellow Death Eaters was practically suicidal. Anyone of them would jump at an opportunity to earn the Dark Lord’s favor.
Draco couldn't fault them. He would do and had done the very same…
As they filed into the large meeting hall, once a grand ballroom, hushed fragments of conversations reached his ear.
“— got Potter’s mudblood whore—”
”—has to come out of hiding now!”
“—hope we get a crack at her—”
A few of the elder Death Eaters looked Draco’s way as they whispered amongst themselves, their envy clear for all to see. They cannot fathom how, against all odds, he had earned the Dark Lord’s favor.
After the ruin of his family name and being sent into brutal exile masquerading an education, by all rights Draco should be dead. For seven years he studied under the tutelage of the worst witches and wizards imaginable, learning dark magics, poisons, and the finer points of torture. Draco quickly learned that every trial was designed to kill him.
It was hell.
But they forgot that he was a Malfoy and Malfoys persevered.
Draco survived, besting each master and killing them as dark tradition dictates before being shipped off to the next. Until six months ago, when the Dark Lord summoned him home. Then Draco began the monumental task of proving his worth by ending the war.
From the beginning, he dominated every skirmish with the Order. Every captive sang in his hands, providing valuable information. After being at a stalemate for years, Draco had single-handedly turned the tide of this war, proving himself more capable than even the Dark Lord’s senior advisers.
And tonight would be his crowning achievement…
Draco had planned today’s raid on the Order safe house. Potter, the coward, had gone deep underground. With no sightings for almost four years, he knew they needed a valuable hostage to entice the bleeding heart Gryffindor out of hiding. His intelligence had hinted at the possibility of Longbottom, McGonagall, or the big git–Hagrid. All great hostages to entice Saint Potter’s self-sacrificing tendencies.
But to snare bloody Granger…
Draco wouldn’t be surprised if Scar head burst through the door in the middle of this meeting to save his childhood friend. Potter would be putty in his hands and the Malfoy name would be respected again.
The hall doors slammed open and the room fell into complete silence as the Dark Lord strolled in. Behind him walked Snape followed by Aunt Bellatrix, who was dragging the bound prisoner along with her magic.
It was the first time Draco had laid eyes on the Granger girl since 6th year…
She had fought with the Order in the hallway during their escape after Dumbledore’s death. The moment had stuck in Draco’s mind because the mudblood had unexpectedly lowered her wand when she first spotted Snape and him running through the halls. Then Yaxley appeared and sent a curse her way. He didn’t see the outcome but remembered wondering if she died.
It would have been better if she had. Then his father would still be alive…
Curiosity got the better of Draco and he looked the mudblood over. Nothing much had changed since school. She wore the same boring muggle clothes, now torn and dirty from the raid. Her hair was as wild as ever, framing her overly plain face. But her eyes were different. She caught his gaze and instead of the old dislike and annoyance he vaguely remembered from school, Draco saw sadness, desperation, and something he couldn't place.
Why was she looking at him so intently?
The mudblood’s eyes roved over him, studying Draco with the same intensity as her school books. Aunt Bellatrix hissed at her to move along and she quickened her step but continued to crane her neck around. Draco shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny, which caused his temper to flare and weasel through the cracks of his control.
She was the prisoner! She should be pleading for her life, her eyes to the ground, not staring in open disrespect at her betters. Draco would make her pay for such insolence when it was his turn to break her. The desire to pluck the offending chocolate orbs from their sockets washed over him.
A hostage doesn't need their eyes to be efficient bait, he thought as a smirk lifted the corner of his lips. Maybe I’ll offer them to the Dark Lord when I’m done with her…
Draco returned the mudblood’s stare with one of his own, opening the gates of his occlumency just enough to soften the stone façade of his face and make it as sadistic as possible while promising all the horrors that awaited her. He saw her eyes flare in fear just as she reached the dais where the Dark Lord took his seat.
He and all his fellow Death Eaters took a knee, eyes on the ground. The silence hung heavy in the room until Aunt Bellatrix’s snarl drew Draco’s gaze up.
The girl was the only one standing amongst the sea of kneeling Death Eaters. She stood tall, her back straight despite her magical restraints, and met the Dark Lord’s gaze unflinchingly.
Stupid mudblood…
Bellatrix hissed again, flicking her wand towards her captive.
He watched as the mudblood tensed, fighting whatever wordless spell his aunt had cast. She held her posture for a few more seconds, then fell to her knees with a loud crack on the marble floor. Despite the painful injury, she didn’t murmur a sound and continued to glare unchallenged at the Dark Lord.
Draco couldn’t help but feel a reluctant kernel of respect for Granger at that moment. At least she had an iota of courage and pride. Far too many turned into a sniveling mess when presented to the Dark Lord, friend and foe alike.
His gaze flicked to the throne and noted the playful smirk that touched the Dark Lord’s lips. That was not good. Every victim that was on the receiving end of that smirk had his undivided attention.
There would be nothing left of her to use as bait…
A pity. Draco would have to concoct another plan to flush Potter out into the open and he definitely wouldn’t be given a chance at her. He’d just have to enjoy the show.
“Gentlemen,” the Dark Lord’s cold drawl broke the silence. “We get to play host to a very special guest tonight. Potter’s pet has graced us with her presence. We must be sure she is entertained.”
The room filled with soft chuckles.
“Where is her wand?” He asked.
“Here, my Lord,” Snape answered, producing the wand from the folds of his robes. Snape stepped forward onto the dais and offered it to him. The Dark Lord took it in his hands, held it tentatively for a moment, then snapped it in half and threw it over his shoulder. She flinched at the crack but said nothing.
“Where is Potter?” The Dark Lord asked sweetly.
She answered with silence, continuing to stare back in defiance.
He pointed his wand at her and hissed, “Crucio.”
The mudblood collapsed on the ground, her body twisting and twitching unnaturally, but she did not scream. After a few moments, the Dark Lord raised his wand, releasing her. She stayed panting on the ground, then struggled to stand. With her arms still magically bound to her sides, she attempted to shift her legs and pivot from a sitting to a standing position, but she lost her balance likely due to the muscle tremors from the Crucio. The mudblood fell forward, almost cracking her face against the marble.
More chuckling echoed in the hall, Draco’s amongst them.
“It will be hard to carry on a conversation if we can’t speak face to face,” the Dark Lord said coolly.
The mudblood remained still for a moment, her chest heaving. Then rolled onto her side, and attempted the maneuver again. This time it was successful and she rose shakily to her feet. Her eyes searched the crowd, finding Draco again. Her gaze was pleading.
Did she think he would save her? Had she lost her mind?
Draco would rather have her writhing at his feet than help the filthy mudblood. She, her precious Potter, and their pet weasel were the reason why his father was dead. The snatchers had brought them to the manor all those years ago. His father had summoned his Lord to the manor, certain that it would reestablish their family in his good graces.
But it all went terribly wrong when the trio somehow escaped, taking the captives entrusted to their dungeons with them, including the wand maker. The Dark Lord was furious. In his rage at another one of Lucius’s failures, he killed him.
Draco’s fingers itched to grasp his wand and wipe that look from her face himself, but the Dark Lord would be displeased if he acted without permission.
She flinched at the hate in Draco’s eyes, then turned to her captor, chin held high.
“Your stay with us will be much more pleasant, Miss Granger, if you are compliant to our wishes,” the Dark Lord said softly, offering fake mercy. Those who took it in the past ended up no better than the ones who didn’t. More often they ended worse.
The Dark Lord hated disloyalty in all forms.
Draco saw her jaw tighten, but still not a sound escaped her chapped lips. Not even when Crucio was cast again.
“Have it your way then.”
It went on for hours. The Dark Lord asked her the whereabouts of Potter, Death Eater prisoners, the Order headquarters, and supply channels. Her only answer was more silence and he responded in kind with a Crucio. The first sound to escape the mudblood’s lips was when Snape had been ordered to help her back to her feet when she could no longer stand on her own. He gripped her arm and a hiss slipped through her pursed lips before she pulled away.
Draco once thought that he would never tire of seeing the mudblood writhing on the floor in pain, but with the repetition, he was getting bored. Proper torture techniques require variety, so the victim doesn’t know what to expect. She was never going to break like this.
The Dark Lord must have come to the same conclusion.
“I think it’s time to change tactics. Bring the girl to me.”
Snape and Bellatrix grabbed her by the arms and half dragged her up the stairs of the dais. The second sound to escape her lips was a whimper as her eyes flashed Draco’s way again before she was forced forward. They knelt her at the foot of the Dark Lord’s throne. His long spider-like fingers tugged her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze.
Draco studied the Dark Lord’s face unobserved while he worked. As an accomplished Legillimens himself, he could tell it hadn’t taken long to breach her mind. You would think as the swotty know-it-all from school, she would be better prepared. His snake-like eyes flickered back and forth like one does when reading a book. That’s what her mind was to the Dark Lord, an open book for him to peruse at his leisure. His face grew more intent the longer he delved. Draco watched his expression turn grave, then blank. A moment later he released her chin.
She sagged to the ground, boneless, tears streaming down her face as silent sobs wracked her body.
“Draco, step forward,” The Lord commanded, his eyes still trained on the girl.
Draco’s heart leapt. He was going to get a crack at her.
He tried to suppress his anticipation as he approached the throne. If the Dark Lord sensed Draco’s eagerness, he would likely take this opportunity away.
Then the dark wizard’s slitted gaze shifted towards Draco, murderous and rage-filled.
“Crucio.”
Intense pain exploded across Draco’s body, more severe than he had experienced before. The Dark Lord’s rage burned through him. It felt like he was being peeled apart, layer by layer. First his skin, then the muscles, and then every nerve ending was split. It went on and on, but after years of experiencing painful demonstrations of techniques firsthand and aided by his occlumency, Draco was able to compartmentalize his suffering.
He was moderately aware of what was going on outside of his body.
The room was in an uproar, the Dark Lord was hissing orders and a woman was screaming.
Mother?!?
No… Mother was in the manor in southern Hampshire, permanently damaged from the Dark Lord’s treatment. She was in no fit state to walk the gardens, let alone come here.
So who was screaming?
Draco tried to push the pain farther down, even as it intensified. Having something else to concentrate on helped.
“Please! Please, stop! You’re going to kill him!”
That was… that was the mudblood. After hours of silence, she was pleading for someone else’s life…
Had Potter shown up after all?
No… if that were the case then he wouldn’t still be the target of the Dark Lord’s spell…
Why was he being Crucio’d? What had Draco done to displease him?
His thoughts grew more hazy as the pain grew… it was becoming harder to suppress as his body approached its limit.
The screaming turned to sobbing pleas.
“Please don’t kill him… don’t kill Draco…”
She was… She was pleading for him!?!
Draco could barely register his confusion. The black fog of unconsciousness was creeping up the edges of his thoughts.
He tried to resist it, but it was a losing battle.
“Take the blood traitor and his mudblood to the dungeon. I will make him pay dearly for his treachery.”
The pain started to fade and Draco’s mind receded into nothingness.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 2: Mudblood Ch 2
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 2
Draco awoke with a start on the cold stone floor of a cell, his body sore from the continued Crucio. After some difficulty, he was able to pull himself up to a sitting position and survey his surroundings.
He was in one of the oldest cells of the dungeon located in the foundation of the estate. There were no guards, no food, no water, nothing. Just the mudblood sat curled up in the corner of the same cell, watching him wordlessly through a curtain of curly hair.
He knew that everything that happened had been her fault.
“What did you do?” Draco growled.
She studied him for a moment, clearly debating whether she should answer his question. The mudblood had been easy to read back in school and it was clear that hadn’t changed over the long years. Draco was not at all surprised by how easily the Dark Lord invaded her mind.
“I tricked Voldemort into believing you are a spy for the Order,” she finally answered after a long pause.
Wait… what?!? That was so preposterous Draco wanted to laugh.
“You have to be joking”
“Nope,” she answered with a pop.
”Why would you do such a thing? And how?” His voice cracked with unsuppressed rage. It took Draco by surprise and he checked his occlumency shields.
His mental stone walls were shattered and crumpled in the recesses of his mind and he was too exhausted to attempt to repair them. For the first time since 4th year, when Snape first started his private lessons, Draco was at the mercy of his emotions. It left him feeling overwhelmed and vulnerable.
It did not help that the mudblood was currently staring at him like he was an idiot. So Draco glared back until she released an exasperated sigh.
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself.” The mudblood’s voice was hoarse from screaming.
Screaming for him…
That uncorked a flood of different confusing emotions. Merlin's beard, he definitely did not miss the random kaleidoscope of feelings of day-to-day life.
“You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
“Then just Avada me!” Draco yelled in reply. He was surprised by the unexpected volume of his voice and was doubly surprised it hadn’t brought any guards around. She flinched at his words.
“That would have been the fastest resolution,” he continued. “Much more effective than this ruse you’ve concocted.”
“Don’t you think the Order has tried?!?” She hissed back. “You’ve had a target on your back since the moment you returned home but no one can come close to you without risking death or dismemberment. We’ve already lost enough people after 8 years of war. We couldn’t risk losing anymore. So we had to try a different approach.”
“Well, congratulations! The new approach worked. And now, thanks to your carelessness and poor planning, we are both going to die horrible and painful deaths,” Draco hissed, putting as much venom in his as he could.
That thought settled his anger a bit. At least he’d witness her death before his own.
The crazy witch had the nerve to laugh. “You really think I allowed myself to get captured without an escape plan?”
“Allowed yourself to get captured,” he sputtered with disbelief. “I know growing up with Potter has probably given you a skewed view of things, what with his inexplicable ability to get out of any and all trouble, but this is the real world. Escaping this place is impossible.”
“Mark my words, Malfoy, I will be escaping here. Very shortly in fact… the only question is, will you be joining me?”
“What madness is this?” He snapped. “Did the Dark Lord scramble your brain while he was in there?”
Her eyes bore into him, challenging. “The goal of this mission wasn’t just to neutralize you as a threat, it was to force your hand to our side.”
Draco laughed in her face. “I’ll never fight for the Order.”
“So you would rather die like a dog here in this dungeon?” Her tone was condescending.
“Of course, I don’t want to die. But I won't help your little band of do-gooder id—”
“Why not?” she interrupted.
“Why not? WHY NOT!?!” Draco snarled. “First of all, I don’t believe anything your side stands for. I don’t believe in blood equality and I definitely don’t believe in the fight for the greater good. I fight for survival. My mother’s and my own. That’s it! That's all that matters to me. And secondly, let’s not forget, your side hates me. I am the great betrayer, the one responsible for Dumbledore’s murder, or have you forgotten? No one will trust me long enough to let me live, let alone want to fight at my side”
The onslaught of emotions cycling through his head was overwhelming to the point he thought his head was going to explode. Draco had to rest it in his palms while taking several deep breaths before he felt a semblance of control.
“I’m not a moron, Malfoy,” the mudblood spoke with a much kinder tone once he had calmed down. “I know why you fight. That’s the only reason why a child would do what you did. To survive impossible situations. And that’s what I’m offering you. The opportunity to survive this war and after.”
Her voice was even and her gaze honest. She was speaking the truth. Draco studied her sitting there, completely still. It felt like he was seeing her for the first time. She was much slimmer than he remembered and her oversized jumper emphasized the harsh angles of her cheek and jaw. Her face still sported a modicum of freckles that, in the past, would have had his mother lecturing on the importance of sun protection, along several new scars. She sat completely still, her eyes guarded, clearly waiting for him to say something.
Impossibly still…
Draco brought his shaking hand up, studying it. The scarred skin spasmed and twitched as was normal when one was recovering from the Cruciatus.
The mudblood should be in the same state. Worse actually. She had been tortured for hours with no breaks, yet she didn’t show any signs of the usual tremors. In fact, his tremors were remarkably light after experiencing the spell with such vengeful intent.
“How are you not a trembling mess right now?” Draco asked.
Her eyes hardened, clearly not expecting that to be his first question, but then she smirked. “If you agree to help the Order, I will tell you”
Draco barely suppressed a groan. Of course, the tricky bitch would leverage even the smallest bit of information.
“What are the details of this deal you are proposing?” he asked with a sigh, ignoring the briefest flash of triumph that crossed her face.
“You will come back with me to the Order to swear an Unbreakable Vow, to not betray any of us and provide only honest intel of Voldemort’s operations.”
Draco tried not to flinch at her use of the Dark Lord’s name.
“You will answer any questions for the Order as they prepare for the final confrontation. You and your mother will be provided a safe house until the end of the war. Once our side is victorious—”
“But what if your lot doesn't win? We will be left at the mercy of the Dark Lord to suffer a fate worse than death.”
The mudblood did not look pleased at being interrupted. “If the Order is defeated, there are contingencies already in place to get you both safely out of the country to settle under new identities. In the event of victory, you will both be issued full pardons and allowed to settle peacefully in another country, with the agreement you never return to British soil again.”
That was an easy stipulation to accept. Draco was already planning on moving Mother abroad after the end of the war, most likely to France. She would love that.
Wait... Mother…
“Empty promises,” Draco snarled. “My mother is very likely already dead thanks to your performance tonight. If by some miracle she’s not, the Dark Lord will remedy that fact very soon as retribution for my perceived betrayal.”
“I received word that your mother was in Order custody right before my capture,” she replied. “Your Dark Lord will find nothing but an empty manor.”
“What?!? How!?!”
The mudblood looked smug. “You don’t honestly believe that, after so many years, we don’t have at least one spy amongst the Death Eater ranks? It was assured that we could secure your mother before the plan was enacted, both for her safety and to use as leverage against you.”
“How can I trust that what you say is true?” he responded skeptically.
Her eyes softened. “I promise, the moment we get to headquarters and your vows are done, I will set up a visit but until then you are going to have to trust me.”
The silence stretched on. There wasn’t a choice, really. Draco could attempt to prove his innocence, but he knew from personal experience how erratic and unforgiving the Dark Lord could be for even the smallest of slights. Betrayal and disloyalty are the greatest of sins in his old Master’s mind.
And if the mudblood was telling the truth, which Draco was reluctantly inclined to believe she was, they already had his mother.
“How do we get out of here?”
The mudblood was moving before the words were fully out of his mouth. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small bottle. She tossed it his way, and Draco barely caught it in his trembling hands.
“That is the answer to your earlier question. It's a potion that will calm the tremors in your muscles and numb some of the pain. Now drink up. We haven't much time.”
“Such a potion doesn't exist.” he said, eyeing the bottle of blue liquid wearily.
“What would be the point of lying to you now, Malfoy? To poison you? After putting in all this effort?” Her tone was exasperated as she dug her whole arm into her pants pocket.
“How are you doing that?” Draco asked then downed the potion in one gulp. It tasted of mint, lemon, and an earthy note that he couldn't place.
“Undetectable extension charm on my denim pocket.”
“Didn’t they search you, though? When you were captured?”
“I carry around a decoy bag with the same charm that holds backup supplies,” she stated. “When they found that one, they didn’t think to look for another.”
Clever, Draco admitted to himself begrudgingly. Even he might have missed it…
She had pulled out an old-looking cloak, a slim leather case, and 2 more potions. She downed one herself, then handed the other to him. Draco recognized it instantly as Pepper-up Potion. As he drank, she dove into her pocket and retrieved her wand.
“How?!?”
“Another decoy. A friend of my father’s is a carpenter. I asked him to make a few duplicates,” she started probing at the lock, checking the locking spells.
What’s a carpenter? What do carpets have to do with the ability to make fake wands? And how could a muggle-made object fool the Dark Lord? Nothing she said made sense…
“But a muggle can’t duplicate the magic in a wand. If a wizard touches it, they’ll know something is off because it will feel like just a piece of wood,” Draco reasoned. Both Snape and the Dark Lord had handled the decoy wand. They should have been able to tell it was fake right away.
“I gave him some dragon heartstrings to add to the duplicate wands. Turns out that a fake wand with a real core still feels magical to a wizard or witch's touch. I've mistakenly pulled a fake one a few times myself.”
That was… bloody brilliant.
“It won’t work though,” she continued. “If anyone had tried to cast a spell they would have known right away it was fake. It takes more than just the core to make a true wand. So many layers of spells and enchantment infused into the wood at every step of the process. It can take years to make one properly. It is a fascinating process to read ab-“
“As much as I would enjoy a lecture on the process of wand-making, I don’t think now is an appropriate time.” Sarcasm dripped with his every word. Draco watched her snap her mouth shut, a pinched look on her face.
“Sorry. I’ve been known to ramble when I’m nervous. It helps to calm my racing thoughts,” she whispered.
Giving an apology was not the reaction he expected. It made him oddly uncomfortable and he did not like that feeling at all. So he did what came naturally and felt right.
Antagonizing the mudblood…
“Well, maybe you should just concentrate on unlocking the door. It's clear that your brain can't focus on more than one task when it's being smothered by the weight of your abysmal hair. Honestly, have you never heard of scissors?.”
The mudblood glared. “Shut your fucking trap, Malfoy. You know damn well that I can’t unlock this door with my magic. Only a preregistered wand can release it.”
Draco tried not to let his mouth drop. He had always assumed the mudblood was too much of a tight ass to swear.
He cleared his throat. “Took you this long to figure that out?”
“No. I just needed to check the nature of the spell to figure out how to proceed to the next step. Stop distracting me,” she hissed coldly.
Draco bit his tongue on another retort, not because she told him to, but because he knew time was of the essence. After a few more minutes of silence, she placed her wand on the ground and retrieved the slim leather pouch.
Seeing her wand placed so carelessly, Draco saw an opportunity. Her wand was within arm's reach. He could easily snatch it up, incapacitate her, and escape alone. Or bring her before the Dark Lord and torture her until she reveals her deception.
But no…
His mother was likely under Order control. The only way Draco was getting her back was to go along with the mudblood’s plan. Besides, he had no idea how she deceived the Dark Lord. He had no choice but to play nice.
For now…
So Draco watched her as she retrieved two slim metal tools from the pouch. Reaching through the bars of the door, she put the tools into the lock. Pressing her ear to the back of the lock, she started shifting the tools, a look of deep concentration on her face, her tongue peeking out slightly between her chapped lips.
She looked… ridiculous.
“What are you doing?” he demanded.
The mudblood shushed him and continued to fiddle. A few moments later a soft click emitted from the lock and she pushed the door open with a triumphant smirk.
Back on her feet, she dusted off her knees.
“There is an old underground tunnel that leads from the dungeons to orchards. From there we can disapparate to the Order’s command base,” She said as she put away her magical unlocking tools.
“How do you know about the old tunnel? It’s a Nott family secret. I only know about it because Theo and I used to explore it.”
“So you know the way?” She asked.
Draco nodded his head as he glared at her. It hadn’t escaped his notice that she didn’t answer the question.
She stuffed the leather case back into her pocket. Grabbing the old cloak, she draped it over her shoulders and part of her body disappeared.
Potter’s invisibility cloak...
“Well, come along then.” She held the edge open as an invitation. “You’ll have to lead the way to the tunnel.”
“What about my wand?” Draco had discovered that it had been removed from his robes while he was unconscious.
She raised an eyebrow. “Do you think it would be a good idea to go looking for your wand in a house filled with bloodthirsty Death Eaters? Especially when it was probably snapped the moment your lovely aunt got her hands on it? Besides, we don’t have much time. They all believe you are still incapacitated. I woke you up early with a waking draft.”
Draco bristled at being administered potions without consent and leaving his wand behind but said nothing. Her logic was sound. He did not argue further as he stepped closer and she reached up to drape the cloak over his head.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 3: Mudblood Ch 3
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 3
It took a few minutes of awkward shuffling to get situated enough to walk without uncovering any part of them. The mudblood was so short, that Draco had to stoop down to make sure their feet remained covered, resulting in a face full of her curls.
His nose was assaulted with the soothing scent of lavender, which brought up memories of the old Malfoy Manor gardens in late June. Lavender was one of his mother's favorite flowers, second only to roses. He had to physically shake his head to drive the memories away.
“Can you restrain this mess?! I can’t see through your jungle of hair,” Draco hissed, blowing out the curls attempting to invade his mouth.
“My hair tie got lost during our transport to the cell. I don’t have another, so you’re going to have to just deal,” she snapped back.
“Then just twist it back with your wand.”
Draco had seen the mudblood do it all through their school years and had always considered it as a gross misuse of a highly magical item, but desperate times…
She looked at him like he was an imbecile.
“A fake one, obviously!” Draco clarified before she could open her mouth to question his intelligence for not the first time tonight. He fully intended to exact retribution for every remark at a later date.
“I only ever carry one at a time. It would be suspicious otherwise,” she huffed.
With a sign, Draco resigned himself to eating curls for the foreseeable future.
The mudblood wordlessly cast a silencing charm on their feet before they set off. The dungeons of the Nott estate were a maze of underground tunnels. It wasn’t unheard of for a Death Eater to lock up a prisoner and for said prisoner to die from dehydration and starvation because the location of their cell had been forgotten. A few sloppy Death Eaters had suffered similar fates, which was why guards were only posted at the entrance.
Draco had spent so much time exploring these tunnels as a child that he could walk them blindfolded. He smothered the pang of nostalgia down as he got his bearings.
They were situated in one of the cells closer to the entrance to the estate, which meant they had to go deeper to find the secret passage. Draco directed the mudblood silently through dimly lit tunnels with small tugs to her jumper hem. They didn’t pass another soul, be it a Death Eater or prisoner, which was for the best.
Draco doubted the bleeding heart Gryffindor would be willing to leave anyone behind…
After a very long walk, they turned into a familiar dead-end tunnel.
“This is it,” he whispered in her ear. She jumped, startled by the sudden break in silence, but recovered quickly. They stepped closer to the bare wall, but before Draco could tell her how to reveal the door, she tapped her wand on the t-shaped rock three times and mumbled ‘Revelio.’ The rock disappeared, revealing the latch that would release the door mechanism. The mudblood pulled it before Draco could warn her or cast mufliato on the tunnel.
A portion of the wall swung open with a groan. Draco froze and she gasped in horror as the sound echoed off the stone walls behind them. Neither dared to even breathe as they listened for any sounds of pursuit. After several moments of uninterrupted silence, they simultaneously released their breath.
Together, they entered the pitch-black tunnel and the door swung shut behind them.
A bluebell flame appeared in the tiny space as the mudblood pulled the cloak off. She bent over, bracing on her knees and breathing heavily. Draco pulled away the moment the cloak was off him, savoring the return of his personal space, and impatiently waited for the witch to compose herself.
The worst part of their escape was over. They just needed to get through the tunnel and the neglected orchard beyond. The border of the wards ran the length of the property line, which wasn’t far outside the line of dead fruit trees.
After several long minutes, the mudblood straightened.
“How did you know about this tunnel and the secret to revealing its mechanism?” Draco questioned, eyeing her suspiciously. She met his accusing stare with a contemplative one of her own. It took her far too long to answer a simple question.
“I discovered the building plans for the Nott house while researching a way to breach its defenses,” she finally answered, looking at her hands. “Did you know that it was originally an abbey? It was closed and sold off during the dissolution of monasteries in King Henry VIII’s reign. The Witch Queen, Anne Boleyn, assisted Tiberius Nott with the purchase in 1536. The secret tunnel was noted in the bill of sale. I found the incantation among the records of enchantments when Millimus Nott registered it as the family seat in 1853. It was easy to put 2 and 2 together.”
Draco narrowed his eyes. He neither knew nor cared about any of that useless information.“And how did you stumble upon such antiquated and specific documents?”
She returned his glare with a mischievous grin. “You’d be surprised what you can find in the oldest sections of the Muggle and Ministry Hall of Records.”
“I’m not even going to ask how you got access to the Ministry Hall of Records when your picture is posted on the Undesirable wall.” Draco eyed the mudblood warily, slightly impressed.
Her smirk only grew.
They both settled into a silently agreed-upon break. Draco sat on the rough stone floor, leaning his back against the wall as she stuck her arm deep into her pocket and withdrew 2 bottles of water and 2 wrapped squares, handed him one of each before settling across from him. He gave a small hesitant nod in thanks and drank the water but eyed the weird square wearily.
“It’s food,” she said tersely as she took hers, split the corner package, revealing the contents, and took a bite.
Draco followed her example, revealing the hard-packed substance inside. He couldn’t figure out what it was made of, but his belly chose that moment to growl rather loudly. He took a small, embarrassed bite of the surprisingly hard substance, chewed once, and promptly spit it out.
It was like chewing honey-coated ground-up dragon scales…
“That is absolutely foul,” he said as he chugged the water in a desperate attempt to get the taste out of his mouth.
The mudblood just shrugged. “It’s not the best tasting, but it has all the essential nutrients, is compact, and has a long shelf life. Most importantly, it’s the only food we have. Better get used to it now, because your days of elf-cooked fine dining are over until the war ends.”
He begrudgingly took another bite, forcing himself to chew.
“What are the chances that Baldie knows about this tunnel and we will have a fight on our hands?” She asked.
Draco nearly choked on his food at her blatant disrespect to the most powerful dark wizard of the century. Did the mudblood have a death wish? If he were a true follower of the Dark Lord, he would be forced to retaliate and strike her down. Was she so reckless because he had no wand?
There were few things Draco remembered about her from their school years and her being reckless was not one of them…
Was she testing him?
Draco decided to ignore her comment and focus on the question instead.
“I’m the only living person who knows of its existence,” he answered as sadness for his dead friend washed over him. “Nott Senior was an untrusting bastard. He would never tell a soul that wasn’t his heir. Theo was much the same, but he trusted me.
Draco fought to squash the depression that threatened to consume him. He desperately needed to get his occlumency back in order…
“Our biggest issue will be the orchard beyond. If they know we have escaped, the grounds will be teeming with Death Eaters searching for us. Our greatest concern will be Greyback and his pack. The second they catch our scents, they will be on the hunt. ”
He chewed the last bite of his food and washed it down with the last of the water.
“With any luck, they haven’t realized we are gone yet,” she commented, then grimaced.
“I learned a long time ago to never trust in luck,” Draco said coldly.
The mudblood gave him an odd look as she replied, “I feel the same. Which is why I make my own luck.”
She pulled a different potion out of her pocket.
“What is that?” he asked, eyeing the bottle.
“It’s a potion of my own creation. Inspired by polyjuice potion, but instead of changing our appearance, it changes our scents. And this,” with her other hand she showed him an extremely long, black hair. “-is your aunt’s hair. I figured any wolf catching her scent wouldn’t investigate. In fact, I’m betting they will go in the complete opposite direction.”
Draco was startled. War had brought out the cleverness in her.
Or had she always been this clever?
They never had an actual conversation in school, so he had nothing to compare to, but Draco could appreciate a good plan, even from a mudblood like her. He returned her smirk with one of his own.
Their break was over. Draco and the mudblood moved through the tunnel, painfully aware of every sound, the bluebell flame lighting their way. They walked separately until they spied the light ahead, signaling the end of the tunnel.
The mudblood stopped, pulled out a weird pink contraption and proceeded to add the hair and potion to it. She gave it a shake then sprayed herself generously, before doing the same to Draco. Then she banished the light before stepping closer to envelop them in the cloak, and they continued on their way.
As the exit drew closer, one of her rebellious curls kept tickling his nose, threatening to make him sneeze. Draco kept trying to blow it out of his face, but it kept bouncing back.
He took in a deep breath, prepared to snap at her for unruly hair again, but the mudblood reached up and gathered her hair in her hand. She shifted it to the opposite shoulder, holding it in place with her other hand, exposing her bare neck to him.
Draco slowly released the breath through his nose, bathing her neck, and she shivered.
Good… she was as uncomfortable with their close proximity as he was.
They had reached the end of the tunnel and Draco hesitantly peered his head out. It was night still, the orchard was bathed in the light of the waxing moon with no patrols in sight. He tugged her jumper hem to move forward.
They moved slowly through the orchard, cautious of every sound and shadow. They didn’t see a soul until about one hundred paces from the border. Draco spotted him first, to the left leaning against a tree.
One of Greyback's pack.
He went to yank her hem to signal her to stop but missed and caught her hand instead. She froze regardless and turned to face him, completely missing the guard. With his heightened hearing, Draco couldn’t even whisper.
In desperation, Draco reached out with his legilimency to send his thoughts directly into her head. A tricky technique, but their physical touch, eye contact, and the fact that she has no skill in occlumency would help.
‘Guard to the left, leaning against the biggest apple tree. Wolf,’ he projected into her mind.
She stiffened, turning her gaze, spotted him, and nodded. Before he could instruct her to turn the other way, the wind shifted, blowing their scents directly to the wolf.
Draco watched him sniff the wind, stiffen, and eye the surrounding area warily. He stood up straight, his eyes scanning the orchard as he slowly backed away. Once he was 50 paces away, he turned tail and practically ran away.
Her potion worked exactly as she said it would…
But there was no time to celebrate. They couldn’t risk him reporting to the pack the way only werewolves could, only to discover his aunt was nowhere near the orchard. Draco clutched her hand tighter, quickening their pace. A few more steps and they would be free.
It felt too easy… something had to go wrong.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 4: Mudblood Ch 4
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 4
Draco felt the moment they were outside the wards.
‘Now!’ he projected into the mudblood’s head, too afraid to speak aloud. She grasped his hand tighter, and they disappeared with a crack.
They reappeared a moment later in a forest Draco did not recognize. The witch beside him fell to her knees, taking the cloak with her, and started doing the last thing he expected.
She started laughing…
The shrill chittering echoed through the trees, setting already frayed nerves further on edge.
Had the mudblood lost her mind?
“I thought we were dead for sure,” she spoke between gasps for breath, wiping away tears.
“Can’t say we are out of the woods yet,” Draco growled. “Not until we are safe in an Order safe house.”
Why was she wasting time?
The foolish witch gave him a funny look, then started giggling again. It went on for several minutes until she was out of breath.
The mudblood had definitely lost her mind. Draco was at the mercy of a mad woman in an unfamiliar forest with no wand, no weapons, and labeled an enemy of the Dark Lord.
It couldn’t get worse…
“Sorry,” she said, wheezing. “It’s just been a tense few hours and honestly, I’m surprised it went as smoothly as it did.”
She thought that went smoothly?!?
“Are you done yet?” he asked impatiently. She made an annoyed face, but didn't look back at Draco as she got to her feet.
“Headquarters is this way,” she said as she led him further into the trees.
Draco walked beside her in thoughtful silence, the predawn gloom allowing them to walk without the aid of a light. His head was spinning with so many questions. Questions he knew he wouldn't get a chance to ask once they got to the enemy headquarters.
Everyone was his enemy now, thanks to the mudblood…
Draco shook the thought away. She wasn’t clever enough to deceive the Dark Lord. She was just a pawn and he needed to uncover who was moving the board. There would be time to consider his current situation later. Right now he needed answers.
“Who’s the Order’s new legilimens?” Draco asked.
The mudblood paused, looking at him sideways, but said nothing.
How aggravating…
“Don’t play stupid,” he hissed. “The only way to plant fake memories in someone’s mind is with the help of a legilimens. They would have to be good too, to deceive the Dark Lord.”
She smirked but remained silent as she continued to walk.
“Dumbledore could have done it, but obviously he’s no longer an option.”Draco voiced his thoughts aloud to bait her. “So that tells me your Order has recruited a new, very powerful legilimens to your ranks. I’m curious if it’s someone I’ve heard of.”
Dumbledore and the Dark Lord were the most famous legilimens of their time, but there were a few lesser-known masters across Europe, Snape included. The sooner Draco knew their identity, the sooner he could plan his revenge.
“No new legiliments in the Order, sorry to disappoint you,” she said with an odd tone.
“Then how did you deceive the Dark Lord?” Draco demanded, stopping in his tracks.
The mudblood turned to face him, walking backward as she spoke. “The how is not important. It does not change your current situation. Maybe one day the Order will deem the information important for you to know, but until then…” She gave him a smug look before turning back around.
The deceptive cunt… she knew why Draco wanted the information and would ensure he never got it…
He flexed his hands. His fingers itched to wrap around her slender neck and choke the answers out of her. If she still refused, at least he’d have the satisfaction of witnessing the spark of life die in those golden brown eyes of hers.
But no… Not until Draco uncovered his mother’s location. He forced a calming deep breath, then quickened his step to catch up with the mudblood.
They continued in silence, the forest around them coming to life in the early morning light. Before long, he spied a large rundown building ahead of them.
“Please tell me that is not the location of the Order’s headquarters,” he groaned. Even from there, Draco could spy the cracked windows and crumbling brickwork.
It wasn’t fit for a family of goblins, let alone people…
She looked up in alarm. “You can see it?!”
“If you mean the run-down building that looks like it’s about to collapse on itself at any moment, then yes I can see it,” he answered with sarcasm.
“Shit,” the mudblood breathed as she charged forward.
Draco reluctantly followed behind as she entered the condemned building. The inside was in much better shape than expected, though still far beyond what he would call livable despite the signs of recent life. A forgotten coat on a hook in one room, a stack of papers in another, and an overturned chair that must have been knocked over in the rush to pack up and leave. There were no signs of an attack or struggle.
The mudblood ran through the halls, calling the names of her friends. No one answered.
“I don’t understand,” she gasped. “I was here yesterday. There were no plans to move operations.”
“They must believe you were somehow compromised during your mission.”
She shook her head. “That is impossible.”
“You were captured and tortured for hours,” he sneered. “Any smart general would assume the worst.”
Draco was honestly confused as to why she was confused. An evacuation plan should have been part of her debriefing. Something she should have expected with ways to determine the new location of headquarters.
“I’m going to guess, based on your reaction, that you have no idea the location of the new command center,” he remarked coolly.
She shook her head. “If they truly thought I had been compromised, they wouldn’t use any safe house I had a hand in.”
Well, it just got worse…
Her energy shifted and she suddenly sagged against the wall. Draco was prepared to berate her further for her poor planning and weakness when a wave of fatigue and pain washed over his body.
His potions were wearing off… which meant the mudbloods were too…
Fighting to stay on his feet, Draco stepped closer, shaking her shoulder to bring her out of her daze.
“Do you have any more potions?”
She blinked at him, her gaze unfocused as she squinted in concentration before shoving her arm into her pocket. After a few moments, she pulled out one Pepper-up Potion and offered it to Draco but he pushed it back to her.
“We can’t stay here,” Draco hissed, fighting against the fatigue that was threatening to overpower him. “Finding the Order will have to wait for another day. Our bodies need to rest and recover. You need to apparate us to a safe house.”
She blinked a few more times. Draco could see her over-exhausted brain having issues processing and his impatience flared. Normally, Draco would not hesitate to express all his frustrations about the poor planning, the missing Order, the lack of supplies, and her weakness at a crucial moment, but he reminded himself that he had nowhere else to go. The witch was his only link to his mother and she had been through worse than him. Tortured for hours and surviving a legilimency session with the Dark Lord, which very few wizards or witches could boast about.
Now was not the time to air his grievances.
Draco uncorked the potion, tilted her chin up, and poured it down the mudblood’s throat. She coughed and spluttered, but kept it down. The second Pepper-up Potion wasn’t as effective as the first but it should be enough for her to apparate them somewhere safe.
“We need a safe house…” he panted, his voice hushed. Draco could barely keep his eyes open. His head was spinning and his body was so heavy.
Then the mudblood was at Draco’s side. She hooked her arm around him and mumbled something in his ear that he could not understand, and then he felt the pressure of apparition. They landed in an unfamiliar hallway with dark wood floors that Draco got a very good look at as he collapsed to the ground, passing out from the pain and exhaustion.
When he came to, Draco was on a couch and the mudblood was hovering over him with an empty potion bottle.
“Get off me!” he snarled.
She ignored him, cast a diagnostic spell, and read the floating values.
“Your body was going into shock,” she explained while continuing to read the diagnostic. “I was able to level out your oxygen levels with a lower dose of the potion from earlier today and a calming draft. It seems giving you such a high dose with the high levels of adrenaline didn’t mix well or the Crucio spell was much stronger than anticipated.”
“To the Dark Lord, the only sin greater than failure is betrayal.”
Her gaze flicked to Draco, analyzing him.
He couldn’t bear the weight of her stare. Draco looked around the unfamiliar room. From the unique wood walls, he guessed they were in a small log cabin. It was cluttered but tidy. On one wall was a big stone fireplace, the mantle covered with photos, surrounded by floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Scanning the spines he could see it was crammed with books of all genres, both muggle and magical.
Craning his neck around, he spied a small kitchen area. The counter was covered with potion bottles and ingredients along with a slew of items Draco didn’t recognize. The biggest amongst them was a big humming box with a bright red door.
Probably all muggle, he thought with disgust.
Beside the kitchen was the short hallway that they must have arrived in. To the right of the kitchen was a plain wall with a giant glass window that had a great view of the surrounding forest. To the left was a wall with 2 doors, both closed.
“Where are we?” Draco asked reluctantly, meeting her gaze which still studied him.
“My family’s cabin,” She answered softly.
His heart stopped.
“You thought this would be the safest place for us to hide?! A place associated with your family! How bloody stu-“
She silenced him with a glare. “The cabin is from my mother’s side. Originally, it belonged to her great-grandfather. There is no paperwork associating it with the Granger name. Besides, even if it could be traced back to me, it's protected by countless wards including the Fidelious charm.”
Draco glared back disbelieving.
“How could you afford a specialist to cast it? Especially in the middle of a bloody war where you are a wanted criminal?”
She gave him a bored look. “Why would I need a specialist? It wasn’t a very complex spell.”
His mouth fell open. She couldn't be serious…
“You cast the Fidelious charm yourself?”
“What? Like it’s hard?“ She looked at Draco even more confused. “I learned everything I need from that book.” She proceeded to point at the thickest book on her shelf titled ‘Ancient and Impossible Magics’, then continued talking like casting a notoriously difficult spell was no big deal. “I’ve lived here for five years now and have had no issues with any intruders. I am the only secret keeper and I’ve only shared it with four people. Ron and Harry, the third person is no longer with us, and I’m not telling you the fourth.”She put her finger to her chin as she got a thoughtful expression. “I guess it’s five now because I had to tell you its location before the wards would let you through.”
Was that what she whispered in his ear!?
“I was barely conscious!” Draco snarled. “If I had passed out before you told me, I would have died!”
“But you didn’t. So why are you yelling? This was the only safe house I could think of.”
The mudblood ignored Draco’s angry glare as she stood up. “Come on, I'll give you a tour.”
She then proceeded to point out different features of her house. The closed door on the right was the bathroom, and the one on the left was her bedroom, which was completely off-limits. He would sleep on the pull-out couch during his short stay. She showed him how to pull it out and brought spare sheets, a pillow, and a blanket. She offered them to him and made a face when he asked what he was supposed to do with them.
Making a bed was elf’s work…
She just left the pile on the bed with a huff, then retreated to her room and a few minutes later Draco heard the shower running. He pulled his robe off and placed it folded nicely on one of the matching overstuffed chairs, then loosened the top buttons on his shirt and kicked off his shoes.
Draco knew he should be angry… he really should be in a rage, threatening to burn down her little cabin unless she found the Order and returned his mother…
But he was too exhausted…
Tomorrow Draco would rage and threaten. Tomorrow he’d repair his occlumency shields and reorganize his mind. Tomorrow he’d plan his next move. But now, what his body needed most was sleep.
So Draco crawled into the unmade, very uncomfortable couch, pulled the pillow and blanket towards him. As he settled in, the mudblood exited the bathroom, a plume of steam trailing behind her as she ruffled her dripping hair with a towel. Her face flushed red and she wore an oversized t-shirt that went to mid-thigh, legs bare for all to see. She walked past him towards the kitchen and grabbed a glass.
Who walks around their house dressed like that when a stranger was present?!
Draco diverted his eyes when she met his gaze as she returned to the bathroom. She asked if he wanted to shower and a set of pajamas. He just shook his head, continuing to stare up at the ceiling.
“Goodnight then,” she said softly, even though the mid-morning sun streamed through the thing she called a patio door.
Draco didn’t dare look down until he heard the soft click of the bathroom door. With a groan, he buried his face in the pillow, trying to block both the bright sunlight and the memories of the curve of her naked calf and the soft swell of her breasts under the tissue-thin fabric.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 5: Mudblood Ch 5
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 5
Draco startled awake, the echoes of screaming reverberating in his skull. It took a moment for him to remember he wasn’t back at Nott estate. The cabin was so dark, that Draco guessed that he must have slept for hours.
And so quiet…
Maybe he had dreamt of the blood-curdling sound?
Draco took a deep breath to calm his racing heart. He was safe for now. The mudblood wouldn't have gone through all the trouble of keeping him alive only to murder him in his sleep.
She still needed the information stored in his head to help the Order defeat the Dark Lord. He knew a good Death Eater would be alarmed by the notion, but he had never considered himself one. The truth was, Draco didn't give two fucks about the dark wizard or his ‘mission’ to cleanse the wizarding world. Everything he had done was to protect his family.
And a fat lot of good he’d been at it…
Another piercing scream sliced through the silence. Draco bolted up, looking for the source. It came from the mudblood’s room. To hear her screams now, when she had remained silent through hours of torture, was unsettling.
Draco was at a loss for what to do. She explicitly stated her room was off-limits, but as another scream reverberated through the cabin, he knew there was no way he could sleep through that. Even after hours of rest, his body was heavy with bone-aching exhaustion.
Maybe if Draco could find her wand, he could cast Silencio on her room. Then he could sleep in peace. He searched the kitchen and surrounding areas but found nothing. He checked the bathroom, her fresh scream still bouncing off the tile walls.
Nothing. There was only one room left to check.
With a sigh, Draco entered her domain from the bathroom entry.
The mudblood was twisting in her blankets, her body writhing like it was being Crucio’d and he knew immediately what was going on.
The witch suffered from Cursed Muscle Memory Syndrome…
CMMS was a rare side effect of prolonged Cruciatus torture. A memory or nightmare would trigger an episode where the body relived its trauma. These episodes could last anywhere from a few minutes to hours. One of Draco’s old masters was obsessed with triggering this condition in his victims. He claimed that he lived on through their trauma and saw it as his twisted path to immortality.
Draco had been more than pleased to end the old bastard’s life…
Observing the sleeping witch as another spasm wrecked her body, he surmised that she had developed the worst case of CMMS he had ever witnessed and because it was nightmare-induced, she wouldn’t be able to pull herself out of it.
Draco couldn’t see her wand anywhere, which meant there was only one thing to do. He took a hesitant step into the room, hoping she hadn’t cast any wards.
A smart witch would have, especially with a stranger sleeping in her house…
But after another tentative step, he deemed it safe enough. She screamed again, her body convulsing. Once Draco was at the edge of her bed, he tried calling her.
“Hey mud- err… Granger. Wake up.”
No reaction. If anything, her face seemed more pinched.
“Granger, wake up!!”
Again nothing. The witch screeched again, her voice cracking. She was definitely going to need tea in the morning.
Draco sat hesitantly. He knew he was going to have to get physical if he wanted the infernal screaming to stop. He grasped both her shoulders and gave her a good shake.
“Granger!!! Wake the fuck up!!”
Her golden brown eyes popped open and he released a relieved sigh. The witch was gasping for breath, her body tense as her owl-like eyes burned into his. Draco could see that she was very confused and scared. He could read it all on her face, like an open book.
He loosened his grip on her shoulders and awkwardly rubbed them.
“Granger, you had a nightmare,” Draco spoke in a low voice to try to soothe her. He was definitely out of his element and immensely uncomfortable. “You are in your home and you are safe.”
She blinked a few times, slowly processing his words.
“Malfoy,” her voice cracked. “What are you doing here?”
“You were scr—screaming,” he stammered in answer, suddenly feeling foolish. “I had to wake y-“
Granger launched herself at Draco. He tensed, but rather than the punch or slap he was expecting, she started kissing him.
Draco froze as she crawled into his lap and continued to suck on his bottom lip.
What the bloody hell was happening…
The witch growled in frustration, then bit Draco's swollen lip. Hard.
A hiss of pain escaped his parted lips and she went for the opening. Her tongue was in his mouth, deepening the kiss and caressing his tongue with hers.
Something clicked. The floodgates opened and Draco was no longer frozen. He was kissing her back.
Draco wrapped arms around the needy witch, holding her close to his chest as he fought her tongue for domination of her mouth. She tasted like spearmint and oddly enough copper. She must have bitten her tongue during her nightmare-induced spasms.
It was an intoxicating combination…
She groaned as their tongues continued to dance, then shifted in Draco’s lap until she was straddling him. With her thighs on either side of his, her gray t-shirt shifted higher, revealing naked, creamy flesh that glowed in the moonlight, attracting his hands like a summoning spell.
So soft…
Draco flexed his grip, kneading the smooth skin before sliding his hand up. He expected to encounter a fabric barrier. Sleeping shorts or knickers at the very least, but instead he cupped bare ass.
The filthy little witch had gone to bed without any knickers…
She swallowed the groan that escaped Draco’s lips as her hands dug into his hair, yanking and scratching, adding an edge of delicious pain to this unexpected pleasure. Then they migrated down, making quick work of his shirt buttons before yanking it free of his trousers. She left the shirt on but open, her fingers lightly scratching over the plains of his chest and abdomen, sending shivers of desire through his whole body.
Draco gripped her ass harder, driving his hardness into her center. She cried out, circling her hips against it. The witch’s head fell back, mouth open in silent pleasure as she ground further into his lap, urgently seeking her pleasure. Draco’s mouth descended her jaw and neck seeking her pulse point. Once located, he bit and sucked until the witch was panting.
Her hands went further south. Those slender fingers made quick work of the fastenings on Draco's trousers and freed his throbbing cock. The witch shifted her hips and notched him at her entrance.
Draco hissed as she slowly slid down the length of him, enveloping his cock with her warm, wet cunt.
“Oh fuck,” she groaned as Draco bit his lip to force himself to stay still. Once the witch was fully seated with her legs wrapped around his ass, she stilled for a moment, shifting slightly to accommodate the fullness.
It gave Draco’s brain enough time to catch up with the current state of events.
He was having sex with the most famous mudblood, Hermione Granger.
And she was… so… bloody…tight… that it was making his head dizzy.
It took his breath away when she started to move. Granger bounced her ass as she rode Draco’s cock, setting a grueling pace. It took a few moments to match her rhythm.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, a stray thought echoed that he should be disgusted and put an immediate end to it…
Instead, Draco placed one hand behind him, wrapping the other around her waist to hold her at the perfect angle as he drove deeper into her hot cunt.
Fuck that thought…
Kissing forgotten, the room echoed with the sharp slaps of skin on skin, gasps of pleasure and the primal grunts only produced during sex.
She shifted her leg, switching from bouncing to grinding her hips in a circular motion. Draco nearly lost control when she clenched around his cock.
She felt so good…
Draco rested his sweaty forehead on her shoulder, breathing deeply the light lavender scent of her curls to compose himself. It had been years since his last shag and he could feel himself approaching the edge. He tried to distract himself by mentally listing the steps to brew a potion of living death.
Draco got to step 12 when she pleaded in his ear, “Harder Malfoy… Fuck me harder…”
Bloody hell…
Holding her to him, one quick maneuver had her pinned between Draco and the bed. He pulled her knee up towards her chest and with a snap of his hips, he was buried to the hilt.
She cried out, her nails clawing at Draco’s back as he pounded into her and he could feel her climax approaching as she fluttered around his cock. Her body arched off the bed, pressing into his chest. He drove into her cunt as it clenched him like a vice and her strangled moans tickled his ear. Three more pumps and Draco found his release.
Gasping for breath, Draco had enough presence of mind to roll off her before the bone-deep exhaustion dragged his endorphin-filled brain to unconsciousness.
~.~
The late morning light woke him, though Draco kept his eyes shut tight as he processed what happened last night.
He and Granger had sex.
More specifically, Granger initiated sex… with Draco.
And she knew it was him. She said Draco’s family name twice last night. Once before she kissed him and then when she pleaded for Draco to fuck her harder.
Oh fuck…
He felt his body react to the memory of her breathy voice in his ear as she begged. Oh, how he had liked that. His fingers itched to move south and rub one out at the memory of her sweet cunt clenching around him as she bounced her ass. Next time, Draco would make sure she was completely naked, so he could lay back and watch her tits bounce as she rode his cock.
Wait… next time?!
“I know you’re awake.” Granger’s voice was flat and cold.
Draco finally cracked his eyes and was blinded by the light streaming through the window. It took a few moments to focus enough to spot her. Granger sat on the chair in the corner of her room. Her oversized t-shirt was pulled over her legs, making a weird little tent, so only her curly head was visible. She rested her chin on her covered knee, watching him cautiously.
Draco was at a loss for words. What does one say to their school rival turned war enemy turned reluctant ally after sharing an unexpected night of coupling?
Somehow his first thought of “Thanks for a great shag. Care to go again?” Didn’t seem appropriate, especially with the tone she had earlier.
So Draco settled for a simple, “Granger.”
She studied him for a few moments. Then Draco realized she wasn't staring specifically at him. She was staring down at his still-open trousers and his body’s reaction to the memories of last night.
Maybe she would be open to another round…
Draco cleared his throat. She blinked, looked up, and met his gaze, then blushed and looked up at the ceiling.
Guess not… Draco thought as he sorted his trousers and shirt.
“I'm sorry for my behavior last night. I shouldn’t have accosted you like that, especially without asking for your consent first.”
Well, that was not what he expected her to say…
Draco had hoped she’d suggest they have another go but knew that was not realistic. He anticipated her to call it all a mistake. But to apologize?
“It’s fine,” Draco said, unsure how to respond. He never thought he would ever hear Granger apologize to him about anything, let alone over an impromptu shag.
“No… it’s not fine. It was a mistake and should have never happened in the first place.”
And there it was, though Draco didn’t expect it to sting.
He gave her a cold look. “Tell me, Granger, do you make this ‘mistake’ often?” He kept his tone cruel.
If anyone should be calling last night a mistake, it should be Draco, but surprisingly enough, he didn’t consider it so.
He wasn't going to let her know that, though.
The witch looked confused, which was unusual for her. “I don't understand what you mean.”
“I’m just asking how many ‘mistakes’ you’ve had. I should know for health reasons. Don’t want to risk catching anything from being accosted by a dirty mudblood like you.”
Her eyes flared in rage, and her mouth opened to shout, but then she snapped them shut and took a deep breath. After a couple more breaths, her face softened. When she opened her eyes again, they were distant.
“I didn’t mean that it was a mistake because it was with you.” Her tone had returned to even and cold. “Just that it happened unintendedly by both parties. There are known muggle studies that victims of traumatic experiences often use sex as a coping mechanism, especially after a near-death experience. Likely because the most basic instinct in nature is procreation, so it makes sense the very act of creating life would be the ultimate reassurance of life—“
She likely would have continued on with her little lecture if Draco hadn’t suddenly choked on air.
Creating life?!? With her!?! Fuck… He shot upright.
Running his hand through his hair, Draco racked his brain trying to sort through the exhaustion-foggy memories from the night before. He had no wand, so he couldn’t cast a contraceptive charm, and she most certainly did not… and he definitely finished inside her…
The thought of the mudblood swollen with his child made his chest tighten with pain and almost made him gag.
“Malfoy!” She stood in front of him, snapping her finger in his face. “Calm down! I’m on a muggle contraceptive.”
“Merlin, Granger! Are you trying to kill me after all?” Draco took a deep breath as she returned to her chair, her face still calm and distant despite his outburst. It almost seemed like occlumency, except after yesterday he knew she had no skill.
“No, Malfoy. I was only trying to explain that it’s not unheard of for people to engage in meaningless sex after a near-death experience. I needed the reassurance of physical touch last night, you provided it.”
She studied him for a moment.
“I think we can both agree that what happened last night was a one-off and will not be repeated?”
Draco nodded his head in silent agreement, smothering his previous hope that it would, in fact, be repeated.
“Good. Who knows how long it will take to get in contact with the Order, so we might be stuck here together for a while. I believe it will be easier for both of us to coexist if we act like adults rather than school rivals. Do you agree?”
Another nod.
“With that in mind, I would like to set some ground rules. We have already agreed on no sexual contact. I have already requested respect for my personal space, which you violated on your first night.”
Draco opened his mouth to defend himself but she held up her hand.
“I understand you had good intentions, so I will not fault you. I should have cast a silencing charm before going to bed, but my exhaustion won out. Plus it’s been a long time since I shared living quarters with anyone. I’ll be more mindful in the future.”
So the mudblood has a history of nightmares and living away from the Order. Two interesting bits of information that Draco filed away to think over later.
“Last ground rule. I believe it would be best if we left the past in the past and treat each other with respect. No snarky comments or name-calling. Can you do that?”
Ah… so mudblood still riles her up…
Draco was tempted to say no, but what would happen if she kicked him out? No wand, no allies, and nowhere to go, he was as good as dead.
“I can do that, Granger.”
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 6: Granger Ch 6
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Granger
Chapter 6
Draco wordlessly watched from the bed as Granger dug through a drawer, pulling out grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt. He refused to ask who they once belonged to as he followed her into the bathroom. She pointed out the location of the clean towels, extra toiletries, and clothes hamper before demonstrating how to work the shower accompanied by a warning that the water can get “hot as hell”.
Granger mumbled something about breakfast as she closed the door behind her. Alone in the moderately sized bathroom, Draco turned the handle to hot. A warm shower would help his sore muscles. The room filled with steam as he stripped off his dirty clothes. Once naked, he stepped into the shower but quickly retreated with a yelp from the near-boiling water.
The witch had not been joking with her warning about the temperature.
Draco adjusted the knobs until the water felt less like lava, then closed the plastic curtain. The heat was a balm for his aching limbs. He allowed it to cascade over his head and down his body as he started the tedious process of rebuilding his occlumency walls.
Every occlumens picked a structure to base their mental fortifications when they first started learning. Draco had picked a medieval fortress, with its high stone walls and arrowslits instead of windows. Most wizards picked a box or chest. Sometimes something as big as a maze. The bigger the structure, the easier it is to maintain, but the harder it is to build.
Someone who uses a box could easily build a new one after the old one is breached. They could have an infinite number of boxes to protect their mind and use very little magic energy. Rebuilding his fortress would take Draco most of the morning. It was a good thing Granger informed him that she had enchanted the water cylinder to never run out of hot water.
Whatever that meant…
Brick by brick, Draco built the wall around his mind, starting with the outer wall and working his way in. Each room he filled with memories before locking the door and moving on. The farther in, the more precious the memory.
Draco kept his hands busy washing his body as he worked. He grabbed the bottle of shampoo and squirted it in his hand then worked it into a lather in his hair. The smell of lavender mixed with the steam, choking him as the memories of last night flooded his head.
Breathing in the soft scent of her curls as she rode Draco relentlessly... The mixture of peppermint and blood as he tasted her mouth... Granger’s hiss of pleasure as he drove her to climax and her body clenched around his cock, pulling him with her...
The memories leveled the walls he had just built.
Draco tried to push the thoughts away. To lock them back in their designated room as he repaired the walls, but they were relentless, popping back up despite how deep he buried them in his fortress.
His cock throbbed.
It and the memories would not relent until he found release. Desperate, Draco grabbed the bottle of conditioner. The smell of lavender filled the shower again as he worked his cock. Leaning his head against the cold tile, a groan escaped his lips as he imagined plowing into her wet cunt. It was not long before he painted the tile with his cum.
With his head a little clearer, Draco returned to the task at hand.
~.~
Draco took longer in the shower than he would have liked. When he finally shut the water off, his castle was little better than an abandoned ruin, with poorly patched cracks and crevices that wouldn’t withstand much of any kind of assault for long. He had given up on trying to contain his emotions and lesser memories and just concentrated his efforts on the worst and most important.
Draco hoped that he could strengthen his occlumency further after a few days of rest, but there was a nagging feeling that time would not fix the issue. Snape had warned against such a complicated structure. He was likely the only person who could diagnose the issue, but getting help from his former professor was no longer an option. Draco wiped the fog from the mirror, his reflection catching him by surprise.
How long had it been since he really looked at himself without the disconnect of his occlumency clouding his perspective?
Draco stared at his familiar yet different features. His face had matured, the edges of his cheeks and jaw more prominent after years of starvation and abuse. The scars furthered the severity of his look.
There were so many scars…
Many he could not even remember how they happened. The most prominent was his ruined lip, a memento from his 3rd and worst mentor. Master Armida had specialized in pain magic specifically designed to make the subject divulge their deepest secrets. She loved to leave her mark on her victims. Especially the ones she deemed too pretty.
And Draco was still vain enough to know that word would have easily described him in his youth.
No great beauty herself, Armida made sure others paid dearly because of it. She had sliced his lip upon their first meeting and left it to heal naturally, resulting in a permanent sneer. It was the first of many marks the old hag had left him with. At first, it had devastated him, but now he embraced it.
It was the mark of the monster he had to become in order to survive.
Draco turned away from his reflection and dressed in his borrowed clothes before stepping out into the main room of the cabin. Granger stood at the table, her brewing kit spread across the surface. She had changed into a long-sleeved jumper, which struck him as oddly warm for June, and a pair of denims.
“I was about to go check on you for fear that you had somehow drowned,” she scoffed.
“The hot water helped my aching muscles.”
“Right.” Was her only reply as she gave him a pointed look.
Draco cleared his throat.
“What are you doing?” he asked, eyeing the brew in her cauldron.
“Replenishing the supplies used during our escape.”
“Including the mystery potion that treats Crucio tremors?” He investigated the potion and ingredients more intently.
“No,” she replied. “That potion was created by the Order’s Head healer. Only he knows the recipe.”
She started bottling up the potion, which from the ingredients Draco realized was a Pepper-up Potion.
“Who is the head healer?” he probed. She stilled, watching him warily.
“That is...sensitive information,” Granger said hesitantly. “I can't reveal anything until you have been cleared and sworn your vow.”
“How is a healer's identity sensitive information?”
The witch answered with silence as she continued to bottle the potion.
So many bloody secrets...
It couldn't hurt to try a little digging while she was distracted to get some answers. Draco’s wandless legilimency was even more effective than the Dark Lord’s. It would be easy to slip into her mind. She wouldn't even notice.
Draco stepped to the kitchen sink under the guise of getting a glass of water. Once out of her field of vision, he focused all his attention on the back of her curly head. While eye contact was helpful for the spell, a true master didn't require it. Draco studied for a year with a master legilimens who specialized in this skill. Master Orinth had been his favorite teacher.
Draco had been sad to have to kill him at the end of his training…
He cleared his mind then unanchored that small part of his consciousness and cast it towards Granger. Draco slipped in easily. There was no sign of any walls or barriers. Just a flood of information.
Not only was Granger thinking about the potion she was brewing, she was listing much-needed supplies while thinking of multiple ways to get in contact with different Order members. There were flashes of thoughts about a cup, a book of old fables, and her big ugly orange cat. There were flashes of her friends and even brief glimpses of him. So many thoughts, all occurring at the same time.
It was overwhelming...
Then something sharp pressed into Draco’s neck, pulling him back to his mind as he was pushed against the counter.
“See anything useful?” Granger hissed, pushing her blade into his skin. Draco could feel the warmth of his blood begin to trickle down his neck. He couldn't speak without risking the blade cutting into his jugular. All he could do was hold her gaze. Her eyes were deadly.
It was at that moment Draco realized Granger could and would kill him.
She held the blade in such a way that an attempt at silent wandless magic to disarm her could lead to further harm. One wrong move and he could bleed out in minutes. The way Granger was glaring at him, Draco doubted she would do anything other than watch. He was completely at her mercy.
So why was Draco so turned on?!?
With her body pressed against him, there was no denying the growing proof of his desires.
“Really, Malfoy?” She raised an eyebrow, her face softening with a touch of humor. “I never pegged you as someone with a knife kink.”
What the hell was a knife kink?!?
Draco stiffened and opened his mouth to deny it when her face turned serious again. He felt the blade dig in a bit more. A hiss escaped his lips and the pressure relented.
“This is the second time that you have invaded my personal space.” Granger’s voice was like death. “There will be no third attempt. Not unless you want it to be the last thing you ever do.”
She stepped back, withdrawing the blade, sheathing it in what Draco assumed was a hidden holster in her denim waist. Then she tossed a dish towel at him, which he caught and pressed to his neck.
“There are first aid supplies in the cupboard in the bathroom,” she said coolly, returning to her potion.
Draco retreated to the bathroom. In the cupboard, he found bandages and a couple of bottles of dittany. One-handed, he placed the needed supplies, minus the dittany, on the counter.
He had so many scars, that he saw no point in actively trying to prevent more…
Draco removed the rag and inspected the damage. It was a small knick close enough to the right artery to bleed, but not enough to cause any real harm. Such a wound hinted at high proficiency with a blade.
Damn… Granger was kind of scary.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 7: Granger Ch 7
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 7
Every morning Granger came out of her room, made a cup of tea and toast, then sent off an owl with a hastily written note. Then she would step into the hall and apparate away. The surly witch finally told Draco, after a bit of badgering, that she was traveling to all the Order safehouses she knew of, but so far every one of them had been deserted. She grew more and more frustrated the more times she returned to the cabin late in the evening with more supplies and no news of the Order.
Draco spent the first couple of days searching every crevice of the cabin available to him.
He wasn't snooping...
With no wand, it was important to know every location of possible weapons to defend himself. Granger had a surprising collection of knives stowed away in the most unlikely of places. Tucked in books, under the couch, in the bathroom cupboard just to name a few.
Draco commandeered two for his personal use. The sheaths had clips that hooked nicely onto his freshly laundered trousers and they were small enough that you couldn't notice them under his clothes. He doubted Granger would miss them.
After exploring the cabin, Draco moved to the forest. Granger had marked where the Fidelious charm ended with a boarder of rocks and sticks. She had protected roughly an acre of land surrounding the cabin. That only took a morning to explore. He found an abandoned well, a decomposing shed, and an old dirt road leading away from the property. No neighbors anywhere close from what he could see and no way to even tell what part of England they were in.
After a few days, they fell into an uneasy routine. They shared a cup of tea in near silence every morning after which Granger would send off her note and then leave. Once Draco was alone he would have a quick wank in the shower. He discovered the only way to truly contain those memories was to allow controlled indulgence.
With everything explored Draco’s time was spent pacing and reading a lot. It did not escape his notice that there were a few holes in her bookshelves that he didn't remember from the first day. Somehow, Granger had moved some volumes to her forbidden realm without him noticing.
What could she be hiding?
When Draco grew desperately bored, he brewed. It was a task he always found rewarding, but after a couple of days, the potions cupboard was overstocked and the ingredients were running low. Then in the afternoon, a rapping on the patio door would announce the return of Granger's gray owl with its undelivered letter.
Draco asked her once how the letters could be undelivered. Owls had an innate magical ability to find the receiver of a letter, even with wards and charms protecting them. Granger ignored the question and just continued to put away the groceries.
Granger was good at ignoring him. She had a lot of practice. Draco had taken to asking as many questions as he could during their brief interactions in an attempt to get some kind of rise out of her. He brushed on many topics, from her ineptitude in finding the Order to reminiscing on shared memories from school—
The teeth incident in 4th year was a personal favorite.
—and even tried to rile her into debates over some of the books he had read.
Nothing got a reaction.
That is until Draco asked about the patronus. He remembered during his early years as a Death Eater that the Order’s favorite form of emergency communication was using the ghostly animals as messengers. He knew that Granger was capable. There had been a rumor that had circulated in the school that Potter had taught a number of students how to cast one. And if Potter knew how to do it then of course she would learn it like the swotty little know-it-all she was.
So why hadn’t she contacted the Order that way?
Draco had honestly not expected an answer when he asked. At this point, he was used to his inquiries being ignored. He almost missed her stiffened posture.
Almost…
When he inquired further, Granger just gave him a look that he had deciphered early on as her sensitive information look before storming off to lock herself in her room again. Every time he received that look the urge to torture the information out of her grew stronger.
Living with Granger was exasperating. He either wanted to strangle her or fuck her.
There was no in-between.
~.~
This went on for two weeks and Draco felt like he was dying of boredom. He needed to get out of the bloody cabin, if only for a few hours.
“I'm coming with you,” he stated firmly one morning as he finished his toast.
“No,” Granger answered without looking up from her breakfast.
“You might run into trouble,” Draco reasoned. “And that ensemble isn't very conducive to running away from enemies.”
She was wearing her usual muggle clothes, today’s choice was a long black skirt and gray jumper. Both were a bit warm for the season.
“I could act as back up,” he continued.
“Yes,” she replied coolly, meeting his gaze. “You would be an excellent backup, what with no wand, no combat training, and a target on your back,”
“And who, pray tell, put that target there?” He hissed.
She just blinked in response, chewing her food.
“I could help you look for clues to the Order's whereabouts. If we find any witnesses, I can use legilimency to get answers,” Draco argued, trying to appeal to her logical nature.
“Anyone I find at these safe houses would be members. You are not using legilimency on any member of the Order. Besides, if we do find someone and they see me with you, they will either fight or flee. It is better if you stay here.”
“The whole point of your mission was to force my hand to join the Order,” Draco shot back, fighting to keep his anger in check. “Why would they be so surprised to see me that they would run?”
She blinked once, then twice, chewing her food intently as she clearly considered how to answer. Granger was definitely hiding something.
“Unless that wasn't your mission and everything you've told me about my mother, joining the Order and the pardon after the war was a lie,” he seethed through clenched teeth. Draco could feel the walls of his fortress start to crack.
“Relax, Malfoy.” She didn't seem phased by the murderous look he was giving her. Instead, she stood up and took her plate and cup to the sink. “Everything I said about the deal was true. Your mother is safe. I promise. Only a very few people in the Order knew of the mission and its true target.”
She started washing her dishes.
“You cannot keep me IMPRISONED HERE!!” Draco had not intended to raise his voice. He felt another crack as he tried to suppress his rage and frustration.
She continued her task. “You are not trapped here, Malfoy. All the wards are to keep people out, not in. You are free to leave at any time, though I cannot guarantee your safety if you do.”
She finished her dishes and set them on the wire rack. Drying her hands on the towel, she pulled out a parchment and the ink contraption she called a pen. After penning her note—
Draco didn't understand why she burned and rewrote it every day...
—she offered it to her owl, who took it and flew out the open window. Without another word, she walked to the hallway. He considered grabbing her arm at the last moment and risking the splinching. Rubbing his neck, Draco’s fingers grazed the raised flesh of his new scar. Before he could decide, the sharp crack of apparition echoed off the cabin walls.
Granger was gone...
Draco hurled the mug of tea against the wall. It shattered and the shards scattered across the kitchen floor. It did nothing to quell his mood.
Not for the first time, Draco entertained the idea of burning the entire cabin to the ground. He imagined sitting amongst the ashes awaiting her return and the look of total devastation that would cross her face. Maybe he'll add a maniacal laugh for some drama.
But no...
She'd probably warded the place to be fireproof. Knowing her, the whole place was warded for any and all possibly destructive scenarios. That's the only reason why she felt comfortable enough to leave him here alone. She certainly didn’t trust him with anything...
And why would she, given their history?
Draco left the mess on the kitchen floor. Maybe she will come home and cut her foot. Serves her right. He certainly wasn't doing elf's work.
The soft pattering of rain announced the arrival of the storm.
No stalking through the forest then...
Draco picked a random volume from her bookcase. It was a muggle book but at least it had a dragon on the cover, he thought as he settled into the overstuffed chair.
As he flipped to the first page of ‘The Hobbit’, the room echoed with a crack.
“Did you forget something or did you change your mind and decide you could use my help?” He taunted without looking up.
“Well, isn't this a cozy little scene...”
Draco’s head snapped up at the familiar drawl. Of all the people, Severus Snape was the last person he expected to see standing in Granger's hallway.
He sprung to his feet, pulling one of his blades. “How did you find us?” He demanded.
Draco was as good as dead…
Snape didn't have a wand drawn. If he acted quickly enough, Draco could get out the patio door before his old mentor drew it. In the surrounding forest, he had a better chance of losing the old man.
The Dark Lord's right hand said nothing. Just removed his travel cloak and hung it on a hook before stepping out of the hall.
“It's good to see you have been productive these past weeks,” he said, eyeing him up and down.
It dawned on him then...
“You're the spy,” Draco breathed in disbelief.
“I'm pleased to see that your powers of deduction remain intact.”
Snape spied the mess on the kitchen floor, raising his brow at him. “Lovers’ quarrel?”
Draco gaped at him and Snape just shook his head. Wand in hand, with a flick he wordlessly banished the mess then he busied himself around the kitchen, first with setting a fresh pot to brew, then pulling various vials of potion supplies out of his robe pocket. He moved around like someone familiar with the space.
Like he had been here many times before…
“You are the fourth person with access to her house beside Potter and the weasel,” Draco wondered aloud.
“Again your logic is astounding.”
How?!? Snape was the Dark Lord's right hand! His most loyal general! How did the Order turn him? And when?
“You killed Dumbledore,” he accused softly.
Snape paused a moment but did not look at Draco. “Yes. As you witnessed first hand,” he said snidely.
“How are you a spy? How can the Order trust you?”
The ex-potions master continued his task of putting supplies away. “That is a tale spanning two and a half decades and one we don't have time for. Miss Granger's wards will have alerted her to my presence. She should be arriving any moment. I'm sure she can fill you in on the details at a later time.”
“Not likely. She doesn't tell me anything,” Draco huffed.
“Clever witch.”
He glared at his old mentor, taking a seat at the kitchen table.
Just then a crack announced the return of said witch. She rushed around the corner, relief clear on her face.
“Professor,” Granger gasped in greeting.
“Miss Granger,” Snape said with a nod of his head.
“Please tell me you have news,” she breathed.
“Of the Dark Lord, yes. Of our-” he paused, eyeing Draco “-friend at the Order? Unfortunately not. They have gone completely underground. I got one communication from Potter right after you were captured. He must have been truly desper—”
Granger snorted. Actually snorted. Snape fixed her with a look at being interrupted. She mumbled an apology and he continued.
“Desperate. I did not get his message until I returned home later the next day. By the time I could reply and report your status, all communications had already gone dark. I have not received any word since, not that I could have replied until now. I only just returned after traveling with the Dark Lord for two weeks straight.
He gave Granger an unappreciative look and she answered with an apologetic one of her own but said nothing.
“Your little stunt and subsequent escape have sent the Dark Lord into a paranoid spiral. He killed twenty Death Eaters that night, including 5 high-ranking strategists. When it was discovered that Narcissa had disappeared as well, he killed 7 more. He came close to killing Bellatrix. The Dark Lord was convinced she had a hand in both disappearances. It was only the fact that she hadn't left his side during all of the chaos that saved her, though it didn't protect her from a few hours of Crucio as penance.”
“So the plan is working?” she asked.
“Yes, Miss Granger. Exactly as predicted. The Dark Lord’s paranoia has reached new heights. He is obsessed with uncovering the spy network he believes Draco has been planting amongst his ranks for years. No one is above suspicion, except me, his most loyal and humble servant,” Snape said that last line with a smirk. “I have been tasked with rooting out the traitors. Thus the constant traveling. I visit the families under suspicion, plant the damning evidence, then uncover and present it to the Dark Lord. Execution is immediate and without question.”
“How many dead so far?”
Snape took a few moments to do some mental calculations. “Counting the first night, just over 50 total executions. If he keeps at this rate, his entire government will implode before the end of the year.”
Granger looked both grim and triumphant.
“You really must tell me the name of the Order strategist that concocted this plan,” Draco spoke softly. He was both impressed and enraged. Though it was satisfying to hear of the unraveling of the Dark Lord’s government, this fucker was responsible for his current situation.
Draco would get his revenge...
Granger jumped like she had forgotten he was there. Snape just looked back and forth between them, his face unreadable.
“Yes. I’m sure that can be arranged once the Order resurfaces,” he said tersely.
“Malfoy,” Granger said softly as she kept her eyes on the older wizard. “Would you mind stepping outside?”
She couldn't be serious... It was pouring ra—
Looking out the kitchen window Draco saw the rain had stopped.
“If you wish to talk privately, then you two should step out,” he grumbled.
“Please Malfoy. It won't be long. Just some Order business we are sworn not to speak of in the presence of nonmembers.”
The chair scraped as Draco got up. He grabbed the abandoned book from the chair and made it a point of slamming the glass door. It closed but jumped back a bit, leaving a barely visible crack. Draco stood on the side of the cabin, just out of sight, and listened at the crack.
“Have you heard from the head healer?” Granger asked, then one of them mumbled ‘silencio' and he heard no more.
That healer again...
She was so secretive about their identity weeks ago. Couldn’t be Potter or the weasel… they didn’t possess enough brains… Must be someone important to her if that's the first thing she asks about. Maybe he's her lover? That would explain her caginess on the subject.
Wouldn't that be lovely?
Draco took a seat in a dry chair under the awning. He doubted this mystery bloke would appreciate Granger having random sex with other men. She struck him as a committed relationship kind of witch. Infidelity would definitely be frowned upon by both parties.
He really should up his game in getting Granger back in the sack. The opportunity of exacting some revenge while getting shagged at the same time?
A grin spread as Draco opened the book and settled in to read. The rain started again, the soft pattering on the tight fabric of the awning kept him from getting wet.
The same could not be said for the future of Granger's cunt...
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 8: Granger Ch 8
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 8
About an hour later, Snape stepped out of the cabin. Draco closed the book he was reluctantly enjoying and gave the potions master his undivided attention.
“I'm going to guess that you are the one that spirited my mother to the Order.”
Snape nodded his head.
“Then you know where she is.”
It wasn't a question.
“No,” Snape stated. “I left Narcissa in the care of an Order member I trust. They were supposed to inform Granger of her safe house location when you both arrived at headquarters. As you are aware, neither of us have heard anything.”
“What went wrong?”
“It's complicated,” was Snape's reply. He studied Draco for a moment. He felt a familiar pressure in his thoughts as his old master tested his barriers. They barely held.
“It's cracking,” Snape said simply as he withdrew.
“They crumbled when the Dark Lord Crucio’d me,” Draco admitted reluctantly. “They haven't been the same since.” He didn't admit the suspected reason why, but the way Snape looked at him, the dark haired wizard seemed to know.
Draco expected him to comment, but instead, he said, “I did advise against such a complicated structure. While it was easy to maintain, once damaged it's near impossible to repair.”
“You know the fortress was the only structure that worked for me. I tried everything else with no luck.”
Snape looked away, “Maybe it's time to try a new technique.”
“What new technique?” Draco snapped. “There have been no breakthroughs in occlumency for over a century.”
“Hmm...”
They sat in silence for a long moment, the only sound the pattering of rainfall on the canvas canopy above.
“I do believe you will need this.” Snape produced Draco’s wand from his robes. He reached for it, but the older wizard pulled away. “I went to great lengths to hide it from your aunt, who was hell-bent on snapping it. I am returning it to your possession with one condition. Do not use it against Miss Granger. It would be foolish to risk your deal with the Order over your desire for revenge.”
“Thank you and don't worry,” Draco said as he reached for the wand again. “I won't waste my energy on a puppet. I'm saving my ire for the strategist that mastermind this whole fiasco.” Snape allowed him to pluck the wand out of his grip. It was warm to the touch as he felt the familiar hum of magic course through his veins.
The older wizard just raised a brow but said nothing.
“Any chance you could provide me with a name?” Draco probed.
Snape answered with silence.
“I figured,” he sighed. “Are you the legilimens who planted the false memories in Granger's head?”
Snape’s lips twitched. “No.”
“They had to be very skilled. It would take more than a few memories to fool the Dark Lord of my betrayal. To anger him so.” Draco was fishing, hoping that Snape would slip up.
“It wasn't just the betrayal that infuriated the Dark Lord. It was the romantic relationship.”
He sputtered. “I'm sorry... The what?!?”
Snape turned and met his disbelieving gaze. “The memories of betrayal were believable because it was paired with a romantic relationship between yourself and Miss Granger spanning years.” The older wizard blinked in surprise. The first time Draco had ever seen such a look of confusion on his face. “Miss Granger didn't tell you the details?”
“No.” He clutched his wand tighter. “She did not. As I said earlier. She doesn't tell me anything.”
~.~
A short time later, Draco walked Snape to the hallway. Granger was nowhere to be seen. As the potions master donned his cloak she appeared out of her room with a stack of three tomes.
“The books you requested,” she said as she handed them to Snape. He took them with a nod and they disappeared into his cloak.
“I may not be able to visit much. The Dark Lord will likely require my undivided attention for the foreseeable future. I will send word if I hear anything from our friends.” Then Snape disapparated away without a goodbye.
Granger started to turn but Draco caught her by the throat and pinned her to the wall. She squeaked and started to reach for something.
“Do not move...” he hissed, drawing his wand.
Threatening to use it wasn’t actually using it, so Draco was technically not breaking his promise to Snape.
He pointed it at her face and he felt her breath quicken under his grip. Her eyes widened and she licked her lips.
“So... A secret love affair? That's how you tricked the Dark Lord?” He growled.
“Snape told you?” she gasped. Draco squeezed just a bit more. He knew how to squeeze in the right spot to scare her, but not block her airway.
“He was quite surprised I didn't know already. He assumed you would have told me.”
Silver met golden brown as Draco looked into her eyes, wanting to see the fear in them. The pupils were blown wide, the golden brown just a thin ring along the edge. But it wasn't fear he saw...
That was...
Draco looked down. Granger’s back was arched off the wall, her body pressing against him. Her breasts rose with each panting breath, the slight hint of pebbled flesh under her jumper.
It was... desire?!?
“Granger...” Draco growled in a very different tone from before. “Are you turned on by this?”
She blinked in surprise, then tried to shake her head. He squeezed her neck to hold her in place on instinct. She sucked a breath and Draco felt her pulse quicken beneath his fingers. She shifted against him and he felt her thighs clench.
Draco’s rage transformed into a different kind of heat.
His reacquired wand dropped forgotten to the floor as he dug into her skirt with his right hand. She made a noise of surprise but did not protest. Draco’s fingers slid under the band of her knickers and grazed the slit of her cunt.
Bloody hell...
“You are fucking soaked,” he groaned. She whimpered as his fingers explored deeper, finding her clit. Draco bent to take her mouth when she stilled.
“No,” she whispered, hesitation in her eyes.
Draco froze.
“Do you want me to stop?”
Her eyes widened in surprise. She studied him for a few moments, a torrent of emotions shifting in her gaze.
“Don't stop,” she finally whispered and his fingers resumed their ministrations. Her eyes fluttered closed.
“Just no-” he pinched her clit and she gasped. “N-no kissing.”
Draco could deal with that...
Using his knee, he nudged her legs apart. She spread them willingly and his fingers found her entrance. Draco circled a few times, teasingly. She whimpered, shifting against his hand, trying to draw him in. After a couple more torturous turns, he slipped a finger into her tight cunt. She moaned, bucking her hips, his left hand still wrapped around her throat.
Draco worked her with one finger until Granger’s knickers were absolutely flooded. He added a second and she whimpered, shifting her hips to give him better access. He curled his fingers, seeking just the right spot. Draco knew he’d found it when Granger cried out. He squeezed her neck to silence her, and her cunt clenched on his fingers.
“Really, Granger? I never pegged you as someone with a choking kink,” he breathed in her ear, throwing back her words from a couple of weeks ago. She whimpered, working her hips desperately.
She was close...
Draco repositioned his hand so he could thumb her clit, squeezing her neck as her cunt became impossibly tight around his fingers. Granger's whole body tensed, arching against him. She threw her head back, mouth open in a silent scream as her orgasm coursed through her. Draco loosened his grip on her neck but continued to pump her cunt with his fingers, prolonging her climax.
After a few minutes, her body relaxed. She was panting for breath, her eyes glazed. The only thing keeping her upright was his body pinning her to the wall.
Draco withdrew his fingers. They were coated with her thick juices. He was tempted to suck on them.
To taste it... To taste her...
But looking down at her blissed-out face, a different thought occurred to him.
“Granger...” Draco purred. Her glassy eyes shifted to look at him.
“You made a mess.” He held his dirty digits up for her inspection. She flushed at the clear evidence of her desire.
“Clean it up,” he breathed, moving them toward her mouth.
She blinked a couple of times like she didn't understand. Then Granger opened up and took his fingers in her mouth. She sucked and licked them like one of those sugar quills she favored in school.
It caused his already throbbing cock to twitch. Draco yanked his fingers out of her mouth with a groan. Granger squeaked in surprise as he picked her up easily. Draco hiked her skirt up and pinned her fully between him and the wall, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. Nonverbal magic made quick work of opening his trousers and then he was pressing into her, the only thing keeping his cock from her cunt was the tissue-thin fabric of her knickers.
It was not lost on Draco that a very short while ago, he was furious over the lie of a secret affair with this woman. A lie that has since come true. He grabbed Granger’s chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes.
“If I'm going to be punished for the act of being your lover,” Draco whispered huskily. “I'm sure as fuck going to reap all the rewards.”
He drove each point home with a thrust, his cock gliding over her parted folds. Her ruined knickers barely prevented him from entering her.
Granger's eyes darkened with each word and thrust, but he couldn't tell if it was anger or desire. Her body was clearly reacting to his ministrations, but her face and eyes were distant. Like she was hiding something still.
Of course, she was. It's Granger. She's probably hiding a thousand things. But she could not hide her body's reaction to him. Draco watched her eyes flutter close with another thrust of his hips, and he planned to take full advantage.
“Do you understand me?” Draco growled.
Her eyes popped open and met his. After another moment of thought, she nodded before her head fell back. She met Draco’s thrust with one of her own. It shifted the position enough that he almost entered her despite the cloth barrier.
She bucked again and he went a little deeper. It was like she'd been holding herself back until this moment.
Merlin, was she trying to rip her knickers?!
But Draco would not let her win. If she wanted him to fuck her, she had to beg for it.
He shifted his hips, thrusting along her folds again, gliding his head over her clit. She growled in frustration and tried to change back but Draco held her hips with both hands to keep her still.
“I need you to say it, Granger...”
Draco thrust again. She was panting and squirming. Her folds were soaked. He tried to center his thoughts. The edge drew closer with every pass. Now it was less a battle of wills and more of who would blow first.
It wasn't looking good for him...
A few more torturous passes and she was clawing up his back.“Yes!” she hissed, trying to move her hips with no success.
“Yes, what?” Draco hissed through clenched teeth.
She groaned in frustration.
“Yes, I understand! Just... Oh god... Just... Fuck me!” she begged.
Finally!
Draco ripped her cursed knickers and plunged into her cunt with a satisfied grunt. Granger echoed it as he released her hips to cup her ass.
Merlin... So wet…
He faintly registered the sounds of items falling and glass breaking, but Draco was too gone to care. So was Granger.
“Oh god...” she moaned as she he met every thrust as he pounded her into the wall. It did not take long before they were crying their release in tandem.
Satiated, they stood panting against the wall. Draco had one hand braced just above her head, his forehead pressed against the cool wood, breathing in the comforting lavender scent of her hair.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 9: Granger Ch 9
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 9
The silence stretched on, only interrupted by synchronized panting as they tried to catch their breath.
Draco knew the second they moved or talked, whatever temporary peace between them would be over. The revelation of what they had done would be too much for Granger. There was no trauma to blame this time. She was going to yell and scream, probably throw something, and very likely kick him out on his ass.
Too soon, she started to squirm. Reluctantly, Draco withdrew from inside her and allowed Granger to get her footing before letting go. Then he turned away to sort himself out in more ways than one. Wand retrieved, he cast scourgify on his trousers to remove all physical evidence of the shag before checking his occlumency walls for any further cracks. Once Draco was satisfied he turned to face her.
Granger was shifting through the pieces of the picture frames that had been knocked off the wall. Having noted their existence when he first arrived but never actually looked at them, Draco watched as she knelt amongst the broken glass, carefully retrieving the photos without magic. He got a glimpse of each photo as she flipped them to inspect for damage. The same three faces repeated over and over in different surroundings spanning across many years. Granger flanked by a smiling couple that shared similar features. Based on the resemblance and the fact the subjects of the pictures were stationary, he guessed they were her parents.
“Can you help with this?” she asked without looking up.
It took a moment to register her request, and then Draco banished the broken glass without thinking.
“Thank you,” she said as she turned over the last photo, her hands trembling slightly. He spotted the same couple standing in front of the cabin with an eight-year-old Granger as she added it to the stack.
Her gratitude made Draco feel uncomfortable. “I didn't do it for you. I just didn't want to risk getting cut.”
Granger said nothing. She just straightened, the photos held carefully in one hand. The other held a knife and sheath that she offered to him. “I think you dropped this.”
Startled, Draco checked both of his knives and did indeed find one missing. It must have shaken loose during the rigorous activity but he hesitated in taking it.
She had to have known where it originated…
“I knew the day you commandeered them,” she said, answering Draco’s unspoken thought. She offered it again. He took it this time and tucked it back in his trousers.
“What are you going to do about it?” Draco asked cooly. He couldn't help rubbing his jaw and the scar right below it. Granger had a history of violent retribution.
“Are you asking about the daggers or more recent events?” she asked, brushing past him to stow the photos safely in a drawer. She turned back with a smirk and a raised brow.
This confusing witch was driving him insane...
Granger’s temper was well-known at school. Draco had been a victim of it during 3rd year and then there was the whole Marietta Edgecombe incident in 5th year that had even impressed him. The point was that she was thorough in her revenge against those who wronged her or her friends. That girl would not react so calmly over theft of her property, rule-breaking, and the clear advantage Draco took of the situation.
But on second thought...
These past weeks, Granger had been cool and calm in all situations. There were only two times he had riled her at all. After the first shag when Draco accused her of being promiscuous, but she had somehow stilled her rage. The second when she knew he had infiltrated her mind. Draco absently rubbed at the scar.
Though the teasing was new... Maybe all she really needed was a good shag to loosen up a bit.
“Both,” Draco answered her, curious how she would respond.
“Nothing,” she said matter of fact. “I am not angry about either.”
Granger busied herself with putting away the potion ingredients Snape had left on the table and Draco thought she was done, but then she surprised him by explaining further.
“For the knife, I understand the need to have a weapon at all times. Better than most. I do wish you had asked first. I would have given them to you. I have plenty.”
So Granger felt the need to be armed...
Draco wondered briefly what happened to trigger such a need, and where she kept them. He hadn't felt any while he was fucking her. Maybe she has a holster hidden under her shirt. Discreetly, he studied her as she moved around the kitchen. There were no unusual lumps or lines indicating something hidden under her jumper.
“As for the sex...” she paused in her words and actions. Her back to him, Granger fiddled with the vial in her hand. Draco watched as her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath, then she turned around. Her face was relaxed but her eyes were distant.
“We are two unencumbered adults occupying close living quarters with physical needs. It likely did not help that we put a rule in effect prohibiting a recurrence of your first night. The forbidden is often the most tempting. It was inevitable a situation such as this would arise. A simple case of having an itch that needed to be scratched.”
So Draco was just an itch? They will see about that...
She busied herself around the kitchen, clearly saying all she planned on the matter. Draco sat at the counter and watched her as he evaluated her words.
Granger had been unusually forthcoming. She said two unencumbered adults. So, the head healer was not her lover. Then why was she so concerned about their safety and protecting their identity?
The development caused some disappointment at losing an opportunity to ruin Granger’s relationship in revenge, and a small kernel of relief whose origin Draco couldn’t pinpoint.
~.~
Draco and Granger settled into a new routine. The mornings were the same. They had tea and toast then Granger wrote her note and sent it off with her owl, whom Draco learned was named Athena.
Because of course, Granger would name her bloody owl Athena...
Then Granger would apparate away, still insisting she go alone despite the return of his wand. The big change was before she would be gone until late at night and just disappear into her forbidden realm without a word, now she returned after just a couple of hours.
This led Draco to suspect she was actively avoiding him before...
She also talked more. Mostly details about the weather, or what book Draco was currently reading and on rare occasions, their shared past. Those conversations pertained to favorite school subjects, thoughts on lessons and teachers. Granger had been shocked to learn that he loathed Umbridge the same as everyone else. Draco had only joined the inquisitorial squad at his father's suggestion.
But the frustrating witch was careful to not discuss any subject Order or mission-related and refused to divulge where she went every day now that they knew the safehouses were a dead end. The only thing she did let slip on rare occasions were personal details, such as the owl's name.
And the fact that she was no longer close with Potter or the weasel...
It had been a complete accident. During another one of his impromptu brewing sessions. He was attempting to brew her scent changing potion when Draco asked Granger if the Order believed she was dead, why hadn't her friends come to her home to clean house?
She barked a tense laugh and replied, “It’s been years since the last time they visited. I doubt my so-called best friends even remember it exists.”
The second the words were out of her mouth, Granger stiffened. They stood across from each other, so Draco was staring right at her when it happened. Despite the potion vapors, he saw the realization and horror flash across her face before she locked them down. With a blank face and distant eyes, she excused herself and disappeared into her room for the rest of the day.
The next morning she broached the subject of ‘scratching the itch' again. It didn't take much convincing on her part before he had her bent over the table. That was the official end of the no-sex rule.
This continued for several weeks and Draco learned two things.
The first thing? Granger was just as insatiable as him, if not more so. It was like a dam had been released. They had sex on every surface of the cabin, with the exception of her bedroom, which was still off-limits. Whatever was holding her back before was forgotten. Now she acted on every opportunity to have sex like it would be her last.
One of Draco’s favorites was when Granger surprised him one morning in the shower and she demonstrated the true potential of the muggle showerhead.
And the second? What the word kinky actually meant and the fact that Granger was very much so. Spanking, choking, and being dominated were Granger's favorites. She also liked it fast and rough.
She lent Draco a couple of muggle books that fully covered the subject and was open to exploring his interest.
Draco wasn't going to complain, because sex with Granger was surprisingly good and his boredom was drastically lower than his first week. Plus it had the added bonus of putting Granger in a much more pleasant mood, making it infinitely easier to share living quarters.
But no matter what they tried, two things remained consistent. They never kissed and Granger's top half always remained covered. Even in the shower together, she wore a black t-shirt that became completely soaked. Draco started to suspect that her clothes were charmed to stay put even in the most unusual position. Anytime he went to lift her top or play with her breasts, she would divert his attention elsewhere.
Even in her day-to-day attire, Granger always wore high-neck tops with mid to long sleeves. Though Draco was curious, she had made it clear that her past was off-limits, so he did not broach the subject.
Besides, there were more entertaining subjects to discuss.
“So how did you discover your appetite for kinky sex?” Draco asked as they recovered from another erotic experiment.
Granger had transfigured his couch into a bed with restraints. They had tried some bondage techniques he had read about in one of her books. Though she and Draco had determined neither one of them much enjoyed being tied up, it had been still a stimulating evening.
“I can't imagine Potter or the weasel were into something like this...”
He had been curious about it since Granger first introduced him to the subject. She shifted from her back to her side so she was facing Draco, her arm under her head. Her face was relaxed, her eyes untroubled. He had come to realize that Granger tended to be more chatty after a good shag, as long as he got the question in before she recovered fully and didn't ask anything too serious. There was a very small window of opportunity.
Usually, she left Draco the moment they were done...
“Harry was like a brother to me. Sex with him was never on the table,” she said with a face.
Draco noted her use of the word was, but did not comment.
“Ron and I tried at some kind of relationship during the second year of the war. He was not very open to experimenting. His favorite positions were missionary and me on top, mostly because then he didn't have to do any work.”
“Figures that he would have the same work ethic in bed as he did with school,” he commented. The weasel had been the embodiment of laziness.
Granger chuckled and continued, “That relationship was a disaster in more ways than one, but sex was a big concern for me. Even at that young age, I knew I had an interest in the more adventurous sexual experiences. Muggle society is more open in this aspect of life. Talking about sex and sexual preferences is not as taboo as it is in wizard society.”
She wasn't wrong. Many wizarding families believed that the act of intercourse was only for procreation and should never be discussed, even behind closed doors. The Malfoys were a bit more modern in this aspect. Draco's father made sure he was properly educated in the mechanics of everything and made it very clear that bastard children would not be tolerated. Then spent the afternoon drilling 13-year-old Draco on how to cast the contraception charm.
His first time was with Pansy near the end of 5th year, when they received news of their impending marriage contracts.
They were basically betrothed, so what could be the harm?
Until the negotiations fell apart when Draco's father got arrested in the Department of Mysteries. Pansy was disgraced when her parents found out what had happened between them. They beat her and sent her off to marry some old cousin of her father's the second she came of age. She had not been allowed to finish 7th year.
“When the relationship with Ron inevitably came to an end, I stayed single for a while. It was hard to do anything because of the war, let alone date. I read a lot of books and tried a couple one night stands, but all the wizards wanted something serious.
“So about four years ago, I started going to muggle pubs to pick up men.”
Draco must have made a face because she eyed him disapprovingly.
“Don't give me that look, Malfoy. It's not like I could walk into a wizard pub. Besides, I'm well versed in all the spells to protect myself against any STDs. I would let them buy me a couple of drinks and then we would go back to their place.”
Granger was extra chatty tonight...
“I met Matt at a pub in London. I never realized I had a thing for bad boys until him. Long blonde hair, tattoos, and a motorcycle. He was the one who fully introduced me to the more adventurous aspect of sex. He even took me to a sex club a few times. I wouldn't say what we did was dating. Neither of us wanted anything serious. We had fun for almost two years, but then he got a job offer to move to America. He left late last November. I didn't have time for anything after that.”
“Got too busy planning my fall from grace?” Draco asked cooly.
The Dark Lord had ordered him to return last December.
Granger stilled. Saying nothing she got up, gathered her clothes, and retreated into her room. Draco watched her go without a word.
She was his enemy and despite their recent recreational activities, he could not allow himself to forget that fact.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 10: Granger Ch 10
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 10
A rapping on the patio door interrupted their breakfast two days later. A familiar large brown owl stood outside.
“That's Snape's owl,” Granger exclaimed as she jumped up and let the bird in. He placed a letter in Granger's palm, flew over to Athena's perch, and drank from the water dish.
Granger ripped open the letter with trembling fingers. Her eyes darted across the paper lightning quick, mumbling to herself. A reading habit Draco noticed she had developed since school.
“Snape had contact with the Order,” she said with her voice tight, offering the letter. “We have a meeting with Shacklebolt tomorrow.”
The note was extremely short. Just a date & time, then the words ‘lima, kilo, Sierra’, and a series of random numbers.
“How did you decipher that from this nonsense?”
“It's a muggle code and coordinates. Snape and I are well-versed. The coordinates are for one of the abandoned safe houses.”
“So the Order has adopted muggle techniques for their communications?” he asked.
It was really quite brilliant. The Dark Lord would never suspect it.
“No...” Granger said, her tone flat. “They have not.”
~.~
The next day Granger apparated them to the meeting point. It was a small cottage that stood on a cliff overlooking the sea. The house was in serious disrepair.
Granger studied it for a moment. Draco thought he caught a flash of pain, but then the witch blinked and it was gone. Back straight, she led the way into the cottage, wand in hand. He followed close enough to hear her mumbling charms and counter curses, which struck him as odd.
Why was she checking for traps in an Order safe house? Did she suspect an attack?
Draco wanted to ask but held his tongue for later. The ex-auror was nowhere to be seen, though they had arrived right on time. After surveying the house, Granger settled in the sitting room. With her back against the wall, she watched the door intently while fiddling with something in her pocket.
Draco staked the second entrance and took in his surroundings. The room was in shambles. Broken furniture and evidence of the local wildlife taking up residence were scattered everywhere. No one had lived here for a long time.
Shacklebolt walked in ten minutes later without a word or apology for his tardiness. Draco, who had only met the ex-auror as a child during ministry visits with his father, studied the older wizard. The war had taken a toll and not for the better. His face was lined with stress. His frame was thin and haggard.
Dark eyes observed Draco coldly as he stood leaning against the door jam leading to the kitchen. For a moment, he thought Shacklebolt would address him, but the wizards said nothing as his gaze turned weary as he faced Granger.
“I'm glad to see you are in one piece, Ms. Granger,” were his first words.
Granger snorted. “Cut the bullshit, Shacklebolt. I know you don't have the time and I definitely don't have the patience.”
“You wound me,” Shacklebolt didn't sound wounded. “I am truly very pleased that your mission was a success and you are unharmed.”
“A fact that you would have known a lot sooner, had you not given the order to go underground,” she hissed back.
So, Shacklebolt was the one giving orders. He must have replaced Mad-Eye after he fell to his death. A death Draco deeply regretted not being witness to. He still had the occasional bouncing ferret nightmare.
“I could not risk you being compromised and endangering the safety of the entire Order.”
“I understand that fact, truly, I do.” Shacklebolt seemed to relax at her statement but she continued. “What I don't understand is why you gave the order before the agreed upon time frame... That time was noon the following day. I was at headquarters six hours ahead of schedule. I also know that Professor Snape did not notify you that I had failed.”
Granger stood up straight and started walking a circle around the older wizard, who visibly stiffened.
“With how thoroughly and completely the evacuation was completed, the only thing that makes sense is that someone had to have given the order way before schedule. Either the moment of my capture...”
By then she had made a full circle around Shacklebolt. Granger stopped right in front of him, turned to meet him face-to-face, and cocked her head.
“Or more likely, the moment I stepped foot out of headquarters.”
Draco watched as the ex-auror, a wizard who was trained to face the most dangerous situations, shrank under Granger's accusing gaze.
“I know what was discussed, but it was too great a risk.”
“The timeline was tailored by the lead strategist to your specifications,” she hissed, her eyes flashing Draco’s way briefly as she spoke.
So Shacklebolt wasn't the mastermind either...
“I am aware and believe me, I have not heard the end of it, but what's done is do—.”
“We are now over a month behind on the second part of the plan,” Granger interrupted. “We must get all the pertinent information Malfoy has to the lead strategists.”
“Speaking of that.” Shacklebolt’s posture tensed as his gaze darted between Draco and the curly-haired witch currently glaring at him. “It has been decided that the second part of the plan be canceled.”
Granger stepped back. “Impossible. This is our chance at an advantage that will end this war in your favor.”
“It appears that you did your part too well.” His eyes grew cold as he met Granger’s slitted glare. “Briefings from Snape show that He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named’s reign is crumbling from within. We need only keep our heads down and he will destroy himself.”
He bent closer to whisper in Granger’s ear, but Draco could still hear the words in the silence of the room. “You always were an overachiever...”
His tone was not friendly.
Granger did not flinch. “And every strategist agreed to this change?”
She had emphasized the word ‘every.’
Shacklebolt's jaw tensed. “The Order has always gone by majority rules, as you well know, Ms. Granger. The majority decided to abandon it. End of debate.”
“Fine...” she breathed. “You are making a terrible mistake, but I will not fight against the majority. You will still be honoring the terms agreed upon, of course.”
Granger was turning away from him as she spoke, facing the wall.
“No.”
She whipped around. “What?!?”
“The Malfoy pardon was contingent on information to end the war. We no longer need said information. Thus no need for a pardon.” The bald wizard turned to face him, his eyes almost gleeful. “You'll pay for your sins just like your cohorts.”
Draco lunged, but Granger got between them, pushing him back with a hand on his chest. Her touch checked his rage and Draco realized that his walls had cracked yet again.
“You will honor the bargain, Shacklebolt,” she hissed.
“This is not up for discussion. I am the one signing off on these pardons. I have the final say. We will honor Narcissa's because your healer friend had her signature before I even knew she was in our care.” The wizard eyed the hand Granger still had on Draco’s chest. “But nothing for your Death Eater.”
Granger turned her back on the Order leader. She caught Draco’s eye, her golden brown studying his silver gray. He could practically see her brain working, trying to find a solution. Somehow, it reassured him.
If anyone could work something out, it would be Hermione...
“What do you want?” she said over her shoulder, not breaking eye contact.
“What?”
She turned to face Shacklebolt. “What would it take to secure the pardon?”
He studied her for a long moment.
“A Horcrux,” he finally spoke. “Find and destroy a Horcrux and the pardon is his.”
What the fuck is a Horcrux?!?
But Granger seemed to know what he was referring to.
“Timeline?”
“Six months.”
“Swear it.”
He blanched at her request. “What?”
“Swear it on your magic. You've broken your word, Shacklebolt. You don't honestly expect me to trust you?”
He bristled but produced his wand. “I swear that if you can recover and destroy a Horcrux in six months' time, Draco Malfoy will receive a full pardon for all his crimes committed as a Death Eater.”
Granger nodded in satisfaction but Draco was not so certain. Swearing on one’s magic was not as binding as an Unbreakable Vow and he felt he should have argued, but something in her posture told him to hold his tongue. She dropped her hand and started heading for the door, clearly done with the meeting. Draco followed close behind.
“Oh, Granger,” Shacklebolt spoke up. “Harry has requested the return of his cloak.”
Granger stopped and replied over her shoulder, “I'm sure Harry will understand why I can't abide by his request, seeing as he should remember how essential it was in his own search.”
The witch stopped within reaching distance of the wizard. Draco saw his jaw tense and found Shacklebolt’s evident discomfort mildly entertaining.
“Since we are hearing requests,” she said coldly. “The next time we meet, pick a different spot.”
Shacklebolt’s eyes gleamed with something he couldn’t place. The ex-auror faked a look of confusion as he looked around. “Whatever for?” Then he looked at Granger with a maniacal smirk. “Oh yes. I recall your history now. You must forgive me. My memory isn't what it used to be. I hope my little slip-up didn't resurrect any unwanted feelings.”
Granger made a move for the wizard. Unexpectedly, Draco caught her arm to stop her. She looked at him and then turned a murderous glare on Shacklebolt.
“If you summon me to this house again, you won't see the end of this war.” Her voice was death and sent a thrill through his body.
The Order leader bristled, “Is that a threat?”
Granger cocked her head at him. “No. It is a promise. I am no longer your puppet.”
With the last word, they left the cottage. Granger was silent the whole walk back to the apparition point.
Draco was teeming with questions. Nothing about that meeting went the way he expected. There was clearly a rift between Granger and Shacklebolt, possibly the entire Order. She didn't trust them.
What happened?
Granger wordlessly grabbed onto his hand and apparated them to the cabin.
Draco’s apparent home for the foreseeable future...
He finally had proof that Granger had told only truths these past weeks about the pardon, his mother, and a future past this war, but like all good things in Draco’s life, it was pulled away right when it was within reach.
Granger released his hand after they landed in the hallway.
“I'm sorry Malfoy,” she said softly. “This is not how any of this was supposed to go.”
Draco knew he should be angry... he should be raging at her, the Order, and the world, but all he felt was tired. Tired of the war... Tired of being on the wrong side of things... Tired of still being a pawn... Honestly, he was just tired of his life...
Draco’s occlumency was so broken that his fortress was nearly useless. He could feel the desperation and despair seeping through the cracks. The urge to just give up was growing stronger by the minute.
At least his mother will be taken care of. Snape said she was with someone he trusted.
Draco plopped down onto the still-transfigured couch.
“What is a Horcrux and how bad is it?” He asked Granger. Her whole posture and face fell.
That was not a good sign...
She joined him on the bed, sitting cross-legged after kicking her shoes off.
“I'm offering you a choice, Malfoy,” she said softly as she stared at her hands. “Now that Snape and I have had contact with the Order, it's only a matter of time before the head healer contacts us. We have six months to find your mother and get you both out of the country. You have more than enough money to make a new life for yourselves with new identities. You don't have to do this.”
“That bad?”
Her eyes flicked up, then immediately back down. “It is extremely dangerous, with a high probability for failure and death.”
“Then just tell me what it is and I will decide.”
She bit her lip. “If I tell you, then you will have no choice but to join me on the search. It is dangerous for you to even know the word Horcrux... If you decide to run, I would highly advise you to let me obliviate it from your mind.”
Draco scuffed. “Like you could obliviate anyone.”
She responded with her ‘Are you really that much of an idiot?’ look. And then he remembered who exactly he was talking to.
Even if it wasn't true, it would be best to avoid the possibility of her casting it on Draco just to prove a point...
“How can anything be that dangerous?”
“It is the only thing that can truly end this war.” She stood up. “Take the rest of the day to think it over.”
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 11: Granger Ch 11
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 11
Granger busied herself cleaning the cabin the muggle way, something she seemed to do when she was anxious. The harsh chemical smells and loud muggle music forced Draco outside. The mid-afternoon sun was bright, the summer heat forcing him to abandon his outer robe on the patio and roll up his sleeves. He wandered the trees absently, pondering his options.
The first option was to go on this highly dangerous mystery mission, with a low probability of success or survival. All for the possibility of a pardon, which also depended on Shacklebolt honoring his promise.
Which Draco did not trust in the slightest...
The second was to abandon the Malfoy name, take his mother and make a new life. A life of looking over his shoulder because Draco would be hunted no matter which side emerged victorious.
Neither option was ideal...
If Draco and his mother ran, their lives would be constantly on the move. Gold was not an issue, it wouldn't be hard to transfer vaults. But they could never settle down permanently. Draco didn't know what kind of effect that could mother’s condition.
She wouldn’t have access to a regular healer or consistent treatments.
They would have to cut off all their relations and friends, not that they had many of either these days.
Theo was gone, and Pansy was as good as gone. Draco had not heard a word from Blaise since he and his mother returned to Italy. Crab and Goyle were more lackeys than friends.
Snape he might miss. He was a good mentor.
And Granger...
Who would have thought that Draco would consider the Gryffindor princess as a person he might miss?
He wouldn't miss her, per say, but the sex he would definitely miss.
What an unlikely ally...
The revelation made Draco stop in his tracks.
Granger... An ally?!?
But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. Though she was partially to blame for his fall from grace, she had since offered Draco shelter. She had fed and clothed him without complaint. She advocated for him against Shacklebolt. Anyone else would have abandoned Draco once he was no longer useful.
Granger had not... She even went as far as to offer him a choice... The first choice offered to him in a very long time...
Granger was his ally.
Draco turned on his heel and ran back to the cottage. The witch looked up startled as he charged through the patio door.
“Dr- er... Malfoy?! What's wrong? Are we under attack?” she had leapt to her feet, wand in one hand and a sudsy floor brush in the other.
“Granger, I want you to tell me about the Horcrux.”
She stood there, staring like Draco hadn't said a word.
“Are you deaf from that horrible racket you call music?” he demanded in annoyance. “I said, I want you t-”
“I heard you the first time,” she interrupted, flicking her wand to the thing she called a stereo, shutting it off. “Malfoy, are you absolutely sure?”
“I refuse to run and abandon the Malfoy name,” he said, admitting only part of the truth. “Besides, You’ll likely fail without my assistance.”
Draco thought he spotted a flash of relief and something else in her eyes, but they were gone in a blink.
“You better get comfortable then,” Granger said as she dried the floor with a wave of her wand and stowed away the cleaning supplies. She disappeared into her room and returned a few minutes later with a stack of books.
Draco transfigured the bed back into a couch. They sat together as Granger spoke through the rest of the afternoon and long into the night.
The curly-haired witch started with the full description of a Horcrux and how one is made, offering books with trembling hands as resources. She told him the full story of Tom Riddle and his journal, the Chamber of Secrets, and how they pertained to the events of their 2nd year.
She did not mention how the journal got into the youngest Weasley’s hands and Draco kept his mouth shut.
She then explained how the journal was destroyed. Granger informed him of Potter’s lesson with Dumbledore in sixth year and the true reason why the headmaster had left the castle on the day of his death. She spoke briefly of their discovery that the locket was a fake.
Granger detailed her year on the run, the recovery and destruction of the locket, and their failure to recover any others. She made no mention of her visit to Draco’s family’s estate.
“Dumbledore believed Tom made six in total. The Ravenclaw relic is completely unknown. Harry suspects it's hidden somewhere in Hogwarts, but without knowing what it is, it's pointless to search. We suspect his snake, but no one has seen it for years.”
“The Hufflepuff cup is all but confirmed, but the location is unknown. We had a lead on the possibility of it being kept in Gringotts. That's why the Order staged the break-in a few years ago, in hopes of the keeper panicking and moving it to a less secure location. It was a catastrophic failure,” Granger said, a look of devastation on her face as she absently rubbed at her chest.
The Gringott's break-in had made international news. A team of five robbers had gained access to the oldest and deepest section of the vaults. Many ancient families had vaults in that area. With two successful break-ins within a decade, many had lost faith in the bank’s security. There had been a mass withdrawal that had sent the goblins into a rage and almost caused another goblin war. It had blindsided the Dark Lord and his reign.
Draco had heard about the break-in during his brief stay in Estonia. While nothing had been stolen, the perpetrators had managed to escape on the back of a guard dragon and were never caught. He remembered being reluctantly impressed by the Order’s determination and resourcefulness.
It had kept the Dark Lord’s attention tied up for months. Allowing the Order to execute many successful raids, so why did she consider it a failure?
He wanted to ask but something tugged at Draco’s memory…
Aunt Bellatrix had been the one to write to him about the break-in originally, disclosing it had been Order members, which was not common knowledge. She had ranted about having to move the contents of the Lestrange vault back to the estate.
“Could the cup possibly be made of gold with two handles and a badger engraved on it?” he asked curiously.
“That's how Harry described it from the memories in Dumbledore’s Pensi—” her head shot up. “Wait, have you seen it?!?”
Draco nodded his head. “On the Lestrange estate. During one of my visits, my aunt brought me down to the family vaults to show off something the Dark Lord had gifted her. I spied the cup only because of the engraving. I thought it was odd that the Lestrange family would own something like that when the entire family had been sorted into Slytherin.”
She bolted to her feet. “Malfoy, do you know what this means!”
Granger darted to Athena’s perch, scaring the bird awake.
“We need to see Snape as soon as possible.”
She scribbled a quick note and offered it to the disgruntled bird. Athena took it begrudgingly, clipping Granger in the face as she flew out the window. Draco tried not to smirk as Granger glared after her familiar.
It was kind of nice to not be on the receiving end of one of those looks for once.
“What can Snape do? The enchantments on these old estate vaults are just as secure as Gringotts. Sometimes even more so. I should know, I grew up on one such estate. It will be near impossible to get in there by magical means.”
“Correct. Which is why we won’t use magical means,” she said with a scary gleam in her eye.
~.~
Granger refused to say another word until they heard back from Snape. They waited for days.
“How long has Snape been a spy for the Order?” Draco asked Granger one morning. She was hunched over the kitchen table with several books, jumping from one to the other, taking notes periodically.
“Since the first war,” she replied without looking up.
“That's impossible...”
“No, That’s a fact,” she said in a dismissive tone. He walked over and closed the book she had her nose buried in.
“Explain,” Draco said steadily.
Her head popped up, glaring daggers, but after a moment her eyes softened and she started to speak. “Something happened during the first war that caused Professor Snape to change sides. I won't go into detail, it's personal and that's his business to tell. Afterwards, he started feeding Dumbledore information.”
“But he killed Dumbledore! I witnessed him do it. How could the Order forgive that?”
“Dumbledore was already dying,” she explained carefully. “When he found the Gaunt ring, he put it on and it cursed him. Professor Snape was able to contain the curse thanks to some advanced spells and potions, but it was borrowed time. Dumbledore asked Snape to kill him so you wouldn't have to.”
“What do you mean?”
Granger's eyes met Draco’s. “Dumbledore knew about your mission during our sixth year. He knew that Tom had ordered you to kill him.”
Dumbledore knew and did nothing?!?
“Why didn't he do anything about it then?” he hissed.
Anger flashed across Granger's face. “I don't know...”
Draco’s thoughts were spinning. How would his life be different if Dumbledore had acted? Would his father still live? Would his mother be healthy and whole?
“So the Order knew the whole thing was a setup...”
“Actually, no. We thought Snape had played us as a double agent.”
“Then how?”
Granger studied her hands. “After Dumbledore’s funeral, I summoned the books about Horcruxes out of his office. In one of the books, I found a list of rare potion ingredients. Once I realized they had nothing to do with our search, I tucked it back in the book and forgot about it.”
“A couple of years later, I was rereading the book when I found it again and I recognized the handwriting. It wasn't Dumbledore’s as I originally thought, but Professor Snape's. I decided to look into the list of ingredients further only to discover their magical properties were to slow the progress of death curses. I put two and two together.”
“I reached out to the professor. We met in secret and he confirmed the truth of Dumbledore's death and admitted to being the one who led Harry to the sword of Gryffindor. I vouched for him and convinced the Order to welcome him back.”
“And you trust him?”
A slight smile played across her lips. “Despite our past, we discovered we work well together. After so many years, he is one of the few people I trust with my life.”
~.~
Four days later, Snape appeared in the hallway. Granger was still hunched over her ever-growing mess on the kitchen table. Draco was settled on the bed reading the third book of the ‘Lord of the Rings,’ because outside of helping with the map, Granger refused to allow him to assist in her planning and research.
“I see you are still in residence,” he said, eyeing him.
“Shacklebolt informed us of the cancellation of phase 2 during our meeting,” Granger said looking up.
Draco tried not to be sore over how quickly she looked up from her research for the ex-potions professor when more often than not he had to physically close the book in order to get her attention.
Snape turned to face her. “How?”
“Majority rules…”
“Ah yes… his favorite scapegoat,” Snape said with a sneer. “And I’m going to assume that he is refusing to honor the pardons then?”
“He has to honor Narcissa’s because the paperwork was signed. But for Malfoy, he refused unless we complete a new task.”
Draco watched the anger flash across her face.
“So he is up to his old games then.”
Granger nodded her head.
“What is his new request?”
The pause was long and heavy.
“Find and destroy a Horcrux,” Granger finally spoke.
Snape’s eyebrows shoot up. “He can't be serious.”
Granger answered with silence, her jaw tightening.
“So we switch to plan B and get the Malfoys out of the country.”
Granger remained silent. Her eyes flicked in Draco’s direction, the uncertainty clear.
She doubted him… still believed he might run…
But then he realized her eyes weren't accusing. They were imploring.
Granger was giving Draco one more chance to choose safety and she wanted him to take it.
Silly witch... He had already made up his mind and he would not leave her.
“No,” Draco said aloud. “I will not run.”
Snape looked at him in surprise. “So why am I here, if not to help facilitate your escape out of Britain?”
“My aunt has the cup. I have seen it in the Lestrange estate vaults.”
Snape’s mouth dropped. It took him a moment to recover.
“Of course it was Bellatrix… it seems so obvious now,” he said, turning to face Granger. “You’re planning a raid on the estate.”
She nodded. “I need you to contrive a reason to get Bellatrix and her husband out of the country.”
“That will be difficult. The Dark Lord is reluctant to let any leave the country thanks to his growing paranoia.”
“If anyone can convince him, it's you,” Draco reasoned.
“Maybe,” Snape said, cupping his chin. “but it will take some time to build his trust in her again.”
“We have six months,” Granger cut in.
“Shacklebolt only gave you six months to locate and destroy a Horcrux?” Snape's eyes narrowed. “He wants you to fail…”
“I suspect he wants me to do more than fail,” she said with a shrug. “ But I was never one to back down from a challenge.”
“Well, hopefully that will be enough time to rebuild the Dark Lord’s faith in Bellatrix. He is a fickle creature.”
“And will allow me time to whip Malfoy into shape,” Granger said with a gleam.
“I'm sorry… you are going to do what?!?”
“If you are going to be my partner for this mission, we need to get you up to snuff.” she held up a hand and started ticking off fingers. “You'll need strength and weapons training along with self-defense and disarming techniques.”
“His occlumency needs work,” Snape added.
Granger nodded her head in agreement. Draco bristled at their words.
“Do I need to remind you both that I have spent the last 7 years training with the worst dark masters on the continent? I am well versed in the darkest of magics and a master duelist.”
Granger did not look impressed. In fact, she looked bored as she turned to look at Draco.
“Yes, a fact that every Death Eater knows and will expect from you,” she reasoned. “They will fight dark magic with dark magic. While many didn't have your opportunities, all of them have been practicing the dark arts since before either one of us was born. They have a clear advantage. Dueling and magic will only get us so far. To win, we must utilize every advantage. Come at them with things they would never expect.”
“And how would we achieve all that?” he asked.
“By doing things the muggle way,” Granger said with an evil grin.
“You cannot be serious! Muggle technology is slow and unreliable. It is inferior in every way,” Draco countered.
Granger bristled. “That might have been true during medieval times, but in the last century, muggles have made huge strides in communication and warfare. They have created weapons so effective, it can level whole cities in a matter of moments—”
“Yes,” he interrupted.”I have heard of these catastrophic bombs used in the Muggle World War ll. Absolutely barbaric and you want to use it on wizards?!?” Draco was astonished. “I will fully admit that the Dark Lord is evil and many of his followers are just as bad as he is, but some are like me! Forced to join his ranks as the only means of surviving or saving their families.”
He was disgusted that she would even consider such tactics. Granger was supposed to be one of the ‘good guys’.
Her eyes flew open. “What?!? No!! I would never suggest the use of an atomic bomb on any living creature!”
“What I think Ms. Granger was trying to convey was that muggle warfare is leagues ahead of our own, and by adopting some of their more subdued techniques, we can gain a clear advantage,” Snape cut in.
“Yes! It was just an example. Muggles are more innovative in solving their problems. Wizards tend to rely too heavily on tradition and magic. They rarely think outside the box. That is all I'm suggesting. Thinking outside the box.”
Draco felt a little relieved, but the thought of doing things the muggle way made him uneasy.
“How do you know it will work?” he asked.
“I have been implementing muggle techniques for years. You’ve already seen some of it in action during our escape from Nott estate. I used muggle lock picks to unlock the door.”
Her magic tools were muggle? Draco couldn't wrap his head around how it worked, but obviously, it did.
“I think I can handle stuff like that,” he said hesitantly.
“I will be utilizing bigger and more dangerous things than that. I will do whatever it takes for our mission to be successful. The real question is…” She met Draco’s gaze. “Do you trust me, Malfoy?”
If anyone had asked him that question a couple of months ago—hell even a couple of weeks ago, his answer would have been no. Draco didn't trust anyone. But Granger had proven herself a capable ally, and if he had to choose someone to watch his back, it would be her.
“Yes, Granger... I do.”
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 12: Granger Ch 12
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 12
Now that Granger no longer needed to do her daily visit to Order safe houses, she decided that mornings would be better spent training Draco in a muggle fighting style she called jiu-jitsu.
Just the name sounded ridiculous…
But there was no arguing with her. The next morning Granger stood before him in the small clearing behind the cabin. Despite the heat, she was dressed in a long sleeved black shirt and leggings with her hair pulled back in a bun.
“Jiu-jitsu is designed for close combat and disarming,” she explained, letting her swottiness show. “I have modified some of the techniques to better disarm a wand user. We will begin with those. My hope is with daily practice you’ll be proficient enough for our mission.”
She cast a cushioning charm on the ground, then instructed Draco to stand behind her and attempt to restrain her. He wrapped one arm around her neck, keeping his grip light while holding his wand to her face.
“Is that how you would restrain a captive?”
Draco tightened his grip only slightly. This was a very different atmosphere from their extracurricular activities and with Granger in his arms to restrain he couldn’t help but notice how much smaller she was compared to him. Tiny even.
Draco was surprised to realize he didn’t want to hurt her…
Granger did not share in that sentiment. She grasped his arm with both hands and pitched forward taking Draco with her. The sudden change caused him to lose his balance and she used the momentum to flip him onto his back. Even with the cushioning charm, it knocked the wind out of him.
Somehow, her little body had put him on the ground. He was genuinely impressed.
It took a moment for Draco to recover and when he did he looked up to find Granger standing over him looking smug.
“Again.”
She offered her hand, which he begrudgingly took, and they went back to work.
~.~
Granger was a thorough teacher. She took the time to explain each step and demonstrated how it should look before they moved on to practice. After a few attempts, Draco was sure his back and bum were already bruised. After a while, they switched positions and Granger restrained him while using a charm to raise a platform of earth to get to the proper height. Even with her smaller frame, he was surprised to learn that Granger was rather strong and it took a few attempts before he could successfully flip her.
Granger demonstrated a couple of different holds during their morning practice. By the end of the lesson, Draco was sore and bruised, mumbling curses under his breath and the witch had a smile that was much too wide.
“How is this going to work if I can barely disarm you?” Draco said frustrated.
“It's only your first lesson, Malfoy. I don't expect you to master it in a day,” she said. “Besides, it's not like you will be facing black belts.”
What the bloody hell is a black belt?
“Ideally, you will never have to use these skills,” she continued. “Your dueling skills should be more than adequate to protect yourself. But on the off chance you are disarmed and caught, you will still have an advantage.”
“I doubt that,” he grumbled. “The second we are disarmed we will be dead.”
“You heard what Snape said,” Granger argued. “Tom has ordered all Death Eaters to capture instead of kill us. He wants to exact revenge personally.”
She eyed him as she spoke her next words. “Wizards are much too reliant on magic, but especially Death Eaters. You are proof of that. Seven years of training and no combat abilities whatsoever besides dueling. If we lose our wands they will assume we are defenseless. Learning these moves could prove the difference between escape and a horrible painful death.”
Draco couldn't argue her logic, even though his entire body protested against it…
“We should get cleaned up,” she said, getting to her feet and brushing the dirt off her clothes. “We have more to discuss about the Lestrange estate and you should start working on your occlumency straight after lunch.” She started to walk to the cabin.
“Is Snape visiting, then?” Draco asked absently as he started to follow.
“Not that I know of,” she said over her shoulder. “Why?”
“Then how am I supposed to work on my occlumency?”
Granger stopped and turned. “I'm going to help you.”
Draco snorted. “You can't help me, you are not an occlumens or legilimens.”
“What gave you that idea, Malfoy?” she said with a raised eyebrow.
He matched her challenging stance. “You forget I've been inside your mind, Granger. There were no barriers.”
“Just because I don't use the same techniques you use does not mean I don't know what I'm doing, Malfoy,” she replied with an edge.
She was talking nonsense but Draco decided to humor her. “What technique do you use then, and who was your master?”
“No master. I am self-taught with my own technique.”
This time he laughed at her delusion. “That is not possible. Occlumency is not something you can learn from a book. You need a teacher. That is how it's done.”
“See! That is the problem with wizard society. That right there.” Her temper flared as she stepped closer. “Just because tradition dictates something has to be done a certain way, does not mean that is the only way to do it.”
Her outburst kindled his temper like a match. “Tradition is the backbone of society! How we honor our history and our ancestors. Without it, we are no better than the nomadic pagan witches of the past.” He took a step closer.
“I'm not saying to throw away traditions completely, but adaptability is part of life. To not adapt is to become stagnant and stagnation is the death of society. Look at the great muggle empires of Egypt and Greece for examples.”
She was right in front of Draco now. Close enough that she had to look up to glare at him. Her nostrils flared with every angry breath as she pursed her lips.
“The ruling class was so obsessed with maintaining the established status quo and their own power, the empires eventually crumbled,” she emphasized each word by poking his chest like he was the one at fault. Draco caught her hand and the energy shifted between them.
They fell into a tense silence as they both realized how close they were. Her gaze shifted from his eyes to his mouth then back as her tongue wet her bottom lip. Suddenly, Draco’s entire reality focused on that one little movement.
The strong desire to kiss her washed over him.
Granger seemed to feel the same because her gaze settled on his mouth and stayed there. Her breaths grew more raged causing her breasts to lightly brush low against his chest with every rise and fall.
Draco swallowed and her eyes shifted down, watching the movement.
This was torture…
He wanted to close the distance. To taste her again, but Granger had been firm in her request thus far. Draco would not make the first move. Her eyes shift back up to his, her tongue reappearing briefly before biting her lower lip. An involuntary groan escaped as he closed his eyes.
Granger was going to be the death of him…
Small fingers laced through his hair and Draco’s eyes flew open just in time to witness the desperation flicker in hers as Granger pulled him in for a bruising kiss. Her mouth was demanding as she sought entrance to his. He parted for her willingly, their tongues meeting like old friends. She tasted faintly of mint, strong black tea, and the sweet scones they had for breakfast.
Why did that combination taste so fucking good on her tongue?
Draco turned his head to deepen the kiss as his right hand went to the small of her back, holding her tight against him. His left hand brushed over her shoulder, up her neck, seeking her silken lavender-scented tresses, but her curls were still contained from training.
So he reached up and yanked the tie around her bun, snapping it and freeing her mane. As he fisted her curls to better angle her head a hiss escaped her, interrupting their kiss. Over the past weeks, he was slowly gaining knowledge of all of Granger's intimate noises.
That was not a hiss of pain but one of pleasure, which Draco confirmed as true when he yanked a little harder and her eyes flew open, her pupils blown wide with desire.
Draco added hair-pulling to his growing list of Granger’s turn-ons. She definitely had a thing for mixing pleasure and pain.
Sliding his other hand up her back, he used both to pull her in for another kiss. She groaned.
Draco briefly wondered if she enjoyed his taste as much as he enjoyed hers...
Determined to get closer, he dug into his pocket for his wand, breaking apart only long enough to mumble the spell for the earthen platform to raise. Lips locked again, Draco grabbed her waist, picked her up, and placed her on the flat surface without breaking the kiss. Granger hummed appreciatively as they were at the same height, making it so neither had to strain to kiss the other.
He felt her fingers claw at the hem of his t-shirt at the same moment his hands dug into her leggings. Draco helped her wiggle out of her bottoms, then Granger yanked off his shirt. Their mouths came together as he stepped out of his sweat pants and center between her thighs. The platform was at the perfect height for him to press into her already perfectly dripping cunt.
After a month of fucking each other’s brains out, Draco had expected to start to get bored of her. It was the opposite in fact.
He couldn’t get enough…
“Fuck… Granger,” Draco groaned against her mouth, punctuating each word with a thrust of his cock. “You…feel…so… bloody… good.”
She deepened the kiss, swallowing his words. Draco sucked her bottom lip, then nipped her hard, the taste of copper coating his tongue. He fucked her mouth with his tongue just as hard as he fucked her cunt until Granger was clawing at his back. She pulled away, gasping for breath.
“Harder Dr—” Draco yanked her hair back just as she spoke, unintentionally interrupting her words, but he got her intent.
Bracing both hands on her hips, he pulled out and flipped her on her belly. Granger cried out in protest as Draco positioned her facing away from him, her ass up in the air. He took a moment to appreciate the view, brushing his palms over her naked mounds and needy cunt.
Granger squirmed as a whispered plea escaped her swollen lips. “Please… Malfoy…”
Draco had intended to get straight back to fucking her, but the opportunity to tease and torture her was too good to pass up.
He spanked her hard and she cried out, her body arching as he gently rubbed the red handprint on her right cheek. Draco bent over her, angling himself so his long torso covered her back, and took a handful of her hair to expose the side of her face and neck.
“Did you like that?” He asked breathily in her ear. Granger whimpered and shifted her hips, trying to rub against his cock as it rested on her ass.
“Do you want more?”
She nodded her head and whimpered again. Draco gave her another sharp slap and Granger tried bucking against him. He ran his palm over the hot flesh soothingly, then moved it over her cunt.
She was drenched...
Her needy body clamped down as Draco slipped a finger in. She cried out as he added another and started to work them in and out. Desperate mewling squeaked out of her gasping mouth as her body clenched so tight around his digits that he could barely move them.
“Are you close?”
She nodded her head frantically. Her eyes rolled back as he continued to work her with his fingers.
“Tell me what you want, Granger,” Draco said huskily, pulling out slowly.
She tried to shift back, to force the fingers in deeper, but his weight had her pinned.
“No cheating,” he teased.
She whimpered as Draco nipped down her ear and throat.
“T…to come…” she gasped.
“What was that?” He asked as he pumped harder.
Granger groaned. “I… need… to… come”
Draco pushed a third finger in, going deep.
“Like this?” He asked innocently as he sucked at her pulse point. Her vein fluttered frantically against his lips.
She shook her head.
“No!” she cried as his fingers thrust in again. Despite her protests, her body was reacting. She arched against him, desperately trying to get his fingers to hit the right spot. The spot Draco was purposely avoiding.
“Then how?”
She cried out frustrated. “With your— fuck…”
Her cunt fluttered around his fingers. She was so close.
“With… your… cock…” she panted out.
“What? Sorry, couldn't understand you…”
“Make me come… with your cock… please Dra— Malfoy…” she pleaded.
Draco was enjoying her begging almost too much.
“Still didn't hear you. Maybe you should speak louder,” he mumbled against her skin.
Granger tensed and twisted around to meet his eyes.
“If you don't fuck me right now, Malfoy, I'm going to diffindo your dick and add it to my dildo collection,” she snarled.
Draco didn’t know what a dildo was but from the context, it was clear Granger was done with the teasing and if he was being honest with himself, the threats made him want to fuck her even more.
Removing his fingers, he positioned himself at her entrance. With a sharp thrust, Draco entered her roughly while tugging her hair, pulling her neck taut. The new position allowed him to go deeper than before, hitting just the right spot and her body clenched around his cock.
Granger’s screams echoed through the trees as she climaxed.
Releasing her hair, he clutched her hips, further working her cunt. She was impossibly tight and it did not take long before Draco felt his own pleasure build. He picked up the pace, fucking her hard as he chased his release.
Granger whimpered beneath him, her body still boneless post-orgasm, but she managed to shift her hips to meet his thrusts. It wasn't long before they were both grunting with shared pleasure.
Draco straightened, changing his position so that he was looking down at where their bodies connected. He watched in fascination as her ass rippled from the force of his thrusting. Granger must have liked the new position, because she arched her back, changing the angle to allow her body to take even more of his cock. It was enough to push him over the edge and his pumps became erratic as he flooded her cunt.
Finished, Draco slumped over Granger, exhausted. He rested his head on her shoulder blade breathing her scent as he tried to catch his breath, taking care to keep his weight on his right arm to ensure he didn't crush the witch beneath him. After a few minutes, he pulled out and took a couple of steps back. He couldn't help but appreciate the sight before him.
A panting Granger was still bent over the earthen platform, her swollen cunt bare to the world. Draco watched with a satisfied smirk as a thick stream of his cum trailed down her leg.
The witch had been thoroughly fucked.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 13: Granger Ch 13
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 13
Two hours later, after a quick meal and shower for the both of them, they sat across each other on the couch. Granger was about to give Draco his first lesson in her occlumency technique.
“I told you that Professor Snape gave Harry occlumency lessons during 5th year.”
He nodded his head. Granger had mentioned it briefly in a previous conversation about Snape.
“I don't know how Dumbledore ever thought that was a good idea. With the animosity between those two, it was a disaster from the very start. I started reading up on the subject to assist Harry in preparation for when the whole arrangement dissolved. When the inevitable came to pass, I had hoped to help continue Harry’s lessons, but it became clear that he had no interest in the subject at all, despite the recommendations of several respected adults in his life.”
“I found the subject fascinating and continued to study it. I truly don't understand why it's not a subject taught at Hogwarts. The benefits and advantages of occlumency are numerous, even though the older techniques are a bit flaw—”
“Granger,” Draco growled half out of amusement and annoyance. “You are rambling.”
She stopped mid-sentence and blushed. “Right… Sorry,” she mumbled, then cleared her throat.
Again with the needless apologies…
“During my studies, I realized that the practice of containing thoughts and emotions is flawed. You choose an item or structure to keep out an intruder. It advised that you pick an easy construct because they are faster to recreate, correct?”
“Yes,” He answered.
“So from the beginning of your training, you are taught that someone will break in and your container will fail. That's the flaw. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy. You expect to eventually fail, so you do.”
Her eyes met Draco’s. “That's why you can't repair your fortress. You were told from the beginning that it was a bad structure because it can't be fixed once breached.”
That actually made a lot of sense…
“So how do I fix it? Just believe it can be fixed and it will?” Draco asked hopefully.
Granger shook her head. “Unfortunately, no. After a decade, it is a learned habit that will be nearly impossible to break. Your only option is to master a new technique.”
“Your technique?”
Granger nodded her head.
“But all I saw when I entered your mind was a flood of thoughts. There was nothing to keep me out.”
“And how did it feel?” she asked.
Draco thought back to that brief moment. “Overwhelming…”
“Exactly,” Granger stated proudly. “A wizard performing legilimency expects to hit a barrier or experience some form of resistance from the victim. Rather than putting all my efforts into preventing a breach and expending all my energy on a container that will fail, I focus on presence of mind and overwhelming an intruder with information. They will be incapable of sorting through the onslaught of data. During that moment, I can take the opportunity to disable them physically.”
Clever witch...
Draco had been caught off guard by the lack of a mental barrier, then surprised by the flood of information. He couldn't remember a single detail he had experienced, just seemingly inconsequential flashes of thoughts all strung together.
“So there is no need to hide important information because the intruder can't differentiate it from any other thought,” he reasoned.
“Not necessarily. I still conceal certain thoughts depending on the intruder but because I am the one controlling the flood of information, I can choose what memories to show them, and I always make sure to include secrets and private thoughts. It makes the whole ruse more believable and keeps them from delving where I don't want them. The thoughts I showed you are not the same Tom was privy to.”
That made Draco curious as to what Granger showed the Dark Lord compared to what she showed him, besides the false memories…
The false memories!
He hadn't seen a hint of those or who planted them. Maybe now that he understood her defenses, Draco might be able to glean some intel if he could convince her for a demonstration.
“This is impressive, Granger,” he started.
Flattery should put her off her guard further. Draco recalled her preening in school from any praise, be it from a teacher or fellow student. He realized then that Granger very likely had a praise kink.
Draco filed that bit of information away for testing later…
“This is the first breakthrough in the field of occlumency in over a century. And it's all self-taught.”
Rein it in there, Draco. Don't want to be too obvious…
But Granger was blushing and being bashful, just like in class.
Yep… she definitely has a praise kink…
“It isn't that big a deal. I was just thinking outside the box,” she said softly, brushing a curl behind her ear.
“The concept is pretty straightforward,” he continued. “I believe I understand the basic principles, but you know from going to school together, I am more of a hands-on learner. I would benefit from a demonstration.”
Granger eyed him warily.
“With your permission of course!” Draco added hastily, fingers grazing the thin scar on his neck. “I learned my lesson.”
She studied him for a moment in silence, before nodding.
Draco couldn't believe that fucking worked! He decided to test his luck a little further…
“Would you mind if I pushed at your defense a bit? Just to test for myself?”
Again she studied him, eyes narrowed. He thought for a moment that she was using legilimency on him, but felt no presence in his mind. Granger eventually nodded her head.
“It would be good practice for me too,” she said as she resituated herself to sit cross-legged in front of him.
“You want to do it now?” Draco asked surprised.
Granger shrugged. “No time better than the present.”
Had he accidentally drunk a Felix Felicis potion with lunch?
Draco shifted to match her position. Now they were sitting knee to knee. He purposely left his wand out of reach. Granger didn't have hers and he didn't want her to feel at a disadvantage. Her feeling overconfident in her abilities would be beneficial to his success.
“Ready?” he asked.
Granger nodded her head. Their eyes met and Draco allowed himself to fall into her golden brown ones. He detached that part of his conscience and entered her mind.
This time he was prepared for the flood of information. Draco tried to pay closer attention to the memories and thoughts as they flashed by. Again he saw flashes of her friends' faces, Snape included among them now. Conversations ran together, the words indiscernible. He noticed quite a few fragments of their sexual activities.
Granger was trying to distract him…
Draco quickly realized that trying to discern a meaning was impossible. All the thoughts seemed to be mixed together with no end or beginning. He tried using his legilimency to latch onto one memory and hold it long enough to view it properly.
That was as effective as trying to cup water in his hands… the thoughts just trickled through.
He moved on to the next tactic. Ignoring all the presented memories, Draco tried to push past them. Like a river, the thoughts parted and swirled around him. If he pushed one way, the current of memories grew stronger, the flood of it overwhelming him.
Granger didn't want Draco to go that way…
He struggled forward, making slow progress. He felt a pressure building in his mind, but he pushed it aside. Draco started to see clearer flashes of arguments with Potter, Order strategy meetings, and conversations with Snape. She was trying to draw his attention away.
He was on the right track…
The pressure grew. Just as it became almost unbearable, Draco pushed through the memories and entered a library filled with books.
Oh course Granger would keep her memories in a library…
He walked amongst the shelves, his fingers brushing along the spines. Each title was the memory contained within. Draco read titles such as ‘9th Birthday,’ ‘First Visit to Diagon Alley,’ and such. He went deeper.
In the very center of the library was a table with a wooden box. Draco went to it, ignoring the splitting headache.
This was important… he felt it in his gut.
As he moved closer, Draco used his legilimency to lift the lid. A memory floated out, surrounding him, drawing him in.
The Library disappeared, and the room turned dark. It took a moment for the memory to focus. He heard grunting.
Turning around, the memory settled on the naked freckled ass of the weasel as he pumped into Granger, her obvious fake cries of ‘so good,’ ‘right there,’ and ‘I’m coming,’ filling the room.
The pressure in Draco’s head reached its peak, and pain blackened his vision.
Draco regained consciousness to the familiar sight of Granger bent over him, returning a stopper to an empty vial, the bitter taste of potion on his tongue.
What was it with this bloody witch continually administering potions while he was unconscious?!
“What happened,” he groaned. His head was splitting.
“I think you pushed your legilimency skills too far. You were quite determined to get past my defenses and ignored your body’s signal that you were reaching your limits.”
She gave Draco a knowing sidelong look as she smirked. “See anything useful?”
The last memory returned as his head throbbed.
“Merlin, I am going to need a blast-ended skrewt to burn that memory out of my head,” he groaned.
Granger burst into a full laugh, clutching her side. After a few minutes, she regained her composure.
“Serves you right. You were so intent on uncovering my secrets, you forgot everything I said,” she said while wiping the tears. “ I knew what you were intending beforehand, so I thought up the library and box for you to find.”
She met Draco’s angry gaze. “You fell right into your old teachings. The second you found resistance, you chased it. When you found the library and box, you pushed past your limits thinking you had won. Now do you understand the benefits of my technique? I could have easily killed you once you were unconscious.”
He was so sure Granger’s overconfidence would prove her downfall. Instead, Draco fell victim to his own…
It was time for him to stop underestimating her and acknowledge her skills as a witch. He met her eyes as she handed him another potion for his headache. Draco curled his fingers around Granger’s hand and held her still.
“I am ready to learn,” he said softly.
There was an emotion Draco didn't recognize as her gaze flicked across his face, studying him. She was unsure of his sincerity. So, for the first time in over a decade, he allowed his mental fortress to crumble and let Granger see the openness and truth in his eyes.
Her eyes grew wide and her jaw dropped. It took a moment for her to recover.
Then Granger’s whole face lit up with a breathtaking smile.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 14: Granger Ch 14
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
Thank you for reading!
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 14
Draco hated Hermione Granger with every fiber of his being…
They experienced yet another routine shift. Mornings were now designated for physical and jiu-jitsu training. More often than not he ended each lesson bruised and aching.
After a brief mid-day meal break and separate showers, they practiced occlumency. Granger proved a skilled legilimens. She smashed through Draco’s walls with ease and without restraint.
Every day he would push himself to his physical and mental limits. It felt akin to past training with his old dark masters…
Despite Draco’s best attempts, his mental defenses kept defaulting to his fortress with every intrusion. It was proving a frustrating habit to break.
It felt so unnatural to not only let someone view his memories but to offer them up willingly…
Every night Draco’s frustration grew at his lack of progress as he went to bed mentally and physically exhausted.
It did not help that, except for a couple of quick shags, Granger’s and Draco’s previous extracurricular activities had been put on hold.
Part of it was because of their fatigue from training, yes, but the biggest obstacle was Granger.
More specifically her complete—borderline obsessive—focus on the mission.
Every evening Granger poured over books and maps for hours. She would drill him over and over about the layout of the Lestrange manor, the possible warding, etc. Many nights when he fell into an exhausted sleep, Granger was still working. Sometimes Draco would wake to find her still there. He didn't dare ask her if she slept.
Due to their lack of regular sex, irritable Granger was making regular appearances again…
Draco’s fingers itched to wrap around her slender neck. To feel her quickening pulse and gasps of breath as he drove into her body, bringing them both to new heights of pleasure. But Granger was a single-focus witch. The couple of times it did happen were all because she initiated.
And by initiating, he meant him waking from deep sleep to find her riding his cock…
The times Draco tried to initiate, he either got ignored or literally growled at. Not an experience he wished to repeat.
If Granger wasn't bent over her books, she would disappear down the dry well, which he had deduced housed an underground lab of some sort. Draco hadn't seen it for himself. It was well-warded against visitors.
If he asked her about it, Granger just ignored him…
Draco only knew it was there because he witnessed her climbing out of it early one morning while he was out for a walk. She walked right past him without a word, like she hadn't noticed him, mumbling under her breath. Her hair was singed and smelled of smoke.
This went on for two months as they waited for word from Snape. He finally made an appearance one rainy fall afternoon, apparating in without notice. It had been a productive day. Draco had mastered the hold to disarm an attacker from behind and Granger was for once sporting more bruises than him.
He had also managed to overwhelm Granger’s legilimency attempt for the second time with a flood of memories. The fact that they were mostly memories of them having sex was beside the point. They were effective nonetheless.
Did Draco have an ulterior motive for using said memories?
It goes without saying that he was not pleased when his old professor made his sudden appearance…
Granger stood to greet him.
“You have news?” she asked hopefully as she helped him with his rain-soaked cloak.
Snape nodded his head.
Granger motioned to the table and with a flick of her wrist, she vanished the books and papers. With a second, she had a fresh kettle on the stove to brew. She had been undergoing her own training these past months, working to improve her wandless and wordless magic.
“Please have a seat,” she offered as three mugs floated to the table. Draco joined them and they all sat.
“I have news of both Bellatrix and our healer friend,” Snape finally said once the tea was seeping. “Which do you want first?”
Granger eyed him over her steaming mug before turning back to face Snape.
“If you’ve heard from the healer, then you must know something about Mrs. Malfoy,” she said softly.
Again Snape nodded his head, eyes shifting back and forth between Granger and Draco. His heart clenched.
Mother…
“I was told that Narcissa has settled nicely into her safehouse,” Snape said, speaking directly to him. “I can arrange a meeting soon if you like.”
Draco opened his mouth to demand it but paused. He missed his mother terribly. It would be so good to see her. But they had a dangerous mission ahead of them and there was a very real chance that they could be captured. He couldn't risk her safe house being discovered if they failed.
“You swear that you trust this healer friend?” he asked his old mentor.
Snape nodded his head.”Your mother couldn't be in better hands, Draco.”
Granger reached over and took his hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
Snape’s eyes dropped to Granger’s hand on his, his face unreadable. Conscious of the weight of his stare, Draco pulled it back, playing it off to lift his mug, and took a sip. The hot liquid flooded over his tongue, burning it. He forced himself to swallow and fought to keep from wincing.
“I will wait. I don't want to risk exposing her safe house,” Draco said, his eyes shifting to Granger, who was looking down and blowing on her tea. He couldn't afford to be distracted.
Granger needed him…
He turned back to Snape. “I will see her after we complete the mission. What is your news of my aunt?”
“The Dark Lord is sending Bellatrix and her husband as ambassadors to Bulgaria. Somehow,” he said with a knowing grin, “whispers of our government disintegrating from within have reached abroad. There are rumblings of discontent from key allies… the Dark Lord is convinced a show of power will keep them in line.”
“By a show of power, you mean death threats?” Granger said. Snape nodded.
“Despite his loss of faith in Bellatrix, she is still his most notorious general. Everyone is afraid of her and I was able to convince the Dark Lord that her mere presence should be more than adequate to reaffirm their loyalties. If it's not, then Bellatrix has permission to make an example of the Bulgarian leadership. He believes it will scare the remaining allies into submission, but my sources tell me the opposite will happen.” Snape explains, a gleam in his eye. “There is blood in the water...”
“And the sharks are circling…” Granger finished with a satisfied smirk. “When are they leaving?”
“The last week of October.”
“So that gives us just over two weeks,” Granger mumbled, doing some mental calculations. “How long will they be gone?”
“They are scheduled to be there for the entire month of November, but the true length will be determined by how successful they are during the first leg of their trip.”
“We can not gamble on the chance they could return early,” she said, chewing her bottom lip. Her gaze shifted up, seeking mine. “I say we hit the Lestrange estate the first day of November.”
Her tone was steady, but in her eyes was a question.
Was he ready for this?
Draco lifted his mug in cheers.
“To our success and the fall of the Dark Lord,” he said, then downed the contents. He desperately wished it had been something stronger, but Granger didn't keep any alcohol in the cabin and Draco couldn't convince her to buy some with their meager funds.
Snape cracked a small smile, lifted his cup, and echoed Draco’s words before finishing his tea. They both turned to Granger. Her expression was unreadable, her eyes blank. After a long moment, she raised her cup with trembling hands and downed it without a word. In continued silence, she stood and disappeared into her room.
Snape stayed for another hour, telling Draco about the state of the Death Eaters. Crabbe and his entire family were executed two weeks ago. Goyle was on the run. He was surprised to find his school friends' fates did not sadden him, but in hindsight, their relationship could barely be described as a friendship. They were more his subordinates than buddies. What little trust they had was destroyed in the seven years of his exile. The only things that they treated him with upon his return were jealousy and contempt.
After a time, Snape stood and excused himself. He stepped to Granger’s door, knocked softly, and let himself into her forbidden realm.
Though it appeared to only be forbidden to Draco…
A short time later he reappeared alone. Draco saw the smallest hint of concern on his face before his occlumency shields snapped into place only because he had actively been watching the door.
“Has Miss Granger been doing any brewing lately?” Snape asked softly, eyeing the door warily.
Draco shook his head. “I have been doing what little brewing is necessary. I don’t think granger has touched a cauldron in months.”
“Has she been sleeping?”
“I don't know,” he answered with a shrug, then continued when the potion master glared at him. “It's not like we share a bed. She usually keeps later hours than me, often still up when I go to sleep. I tend to be up before she leaves her room, but occasionally I will find her at the table when I wake…”
Draco eyed Snape as he spoke, his face passive as he listened to his face giving nothing away.
“She has kept the room silenced and off-limits since the first night, so I have no clue what she gets up to in there,” he finished.
Snape arched an eyebrow at his statement.
“And why would miss Granger need to implement such steps on your very first night?” he asked, his gaze intense.
“Nightmares,” Draco answered quickly. “Her screams woke me. I suspect Granger suffers from cursed muscle memory after her interrogation with the Dark Lord. I had to wake her.”
The memories of that night flashed in his mind. It was the truth, though not the full one.
Snape didn't need to know the details…
“Hmm.” The sound escaped his pursed lips as he continued to study him.
“Unless there is something else that you know of?” Draco asked probingly.
Had Granger told him what had transpired between them?
He doubted that. One thing he had come to realize about the witch these past months was how private of a person she was. Any personal information Draco knew of her was minimal and the result of his observations or a slip-up on her part.
“You, of all people, should be intimately aware of the fact that oftentimes the worst injuries are not of the body, but of the mind,” was all he would say on the matter. But it was clear that Snape knew something and was keeping it to himself.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 15: Granger Ch 15
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 15
Granger did not reappear until late the next morning and she hadn't gotten much sleep judging from the deep dark circles around her eyes, but she threw herself into the preparations with an added zeal Draco didn't think was possible. She expected them to drill every aspect of the plan, covering every possible outcome no matter how unlikely—
Draco highly doubted they would run into the Dark Lord at his Aunt’s estate…
—and train every available moment.
This went on until the morning of Halloween. He was still in bed despite the late hour because of his exhaustion. When Granger exited her room with a mysterious black bundle, it elicited an involuntary groan.
“Granger, if you want me to be of any use tomorrow, I need a break from your relentless planning and training…” Draco pleaded. “We both do…”
“You can relax, Malfoy,” she replied. “I had already planned today as a day of rest.”
She dumped the mystery bundle on his lap. “These are for you.”
Granger plopped down on the bed. They had kept the couch permanently transfigured after the first time, months ago. Granger had stated it was for convenience's sake, but he suspected she had left it out of pity.
The pull-out couch could not have been described as even remotely comfortable…
But despite the new bed being a huge improvement from before, it was small enough that Draco was still forced to shift over when Granger sat down. She watched him expectantly.
He examined the bundle. It felt soft and heavy but Draco couldn't guess what it was because it was wrapped in black cloth. He started to unfold the layers, revealing two folded garments of black material. Sitting on top was his wand.
How had she gotten her hands on it? Draco usually kept it under his pillow. He picked it up and it felt… wrong.
What had she done?
Granger must have seen the suspicion flash across his face because she spoke up. “It's a fake. Snape let me take pictures and measurements before he returned it to you. I had the same friend that made mine duplicate one for you.”
Draco’s hand searched under the pillow and the familiar pulse of magic warmed his finger almost reassuringly when he brushed his wand. He pulled it out and held them both up to compare.
“I picked it up last week, before my supply run. I had hoped to get more than one, but Dennis has been busy with work. Oh, that's my dad’s friend. Woodworking is just a hobby for him. He’s a dentist too, like my dad was. That's how they became friends. Summer is a busier time for dentists because of all the cold sweets people partake in because of the warmer weather. Then October because of all the candy. My dad used to call it cavity season—”
“It's perfect, Granger,” Draco said softly, interrupting her nervous rant as he admired the craftsmanship.
Muggle craftsmanship… a small voice snarled in the back of his mind.
Draco pushed it away. The wands were almost identical. The handle was a hair thicker and the coloring was slightly off. He could see the slight differences because of his intimate knowledge of the original, but it would fool anyone else.
Finished with his comparison, he put both wands aside and unfolded the top garment. It was a black turtle-neck jumper and though it appeared to be made of soft cotton-like material, it was incredibly heavy in his hands.
“That's a muggle tactical shirt,” she explained as she tapped it with her wand. It morphed into a bulky canvas-like material with hard panels sewn onto the chest and abdomen. “I figured out a way to transfigure its appearance while still maintaining its protective properties. It's designed to block knives and bullets, though I don't think we will have to worry about that. I added some basic shielding charms for lesser jinxes and curses.”
Draco was speechless…
She motioned for him to try it on. “I need to check the fit before turning it back. Have to make sure all your vital points are covered.”
She showed him where the hidden zipper was, then he sat up straight, getting his arms through the sleeve. Granger assisted with the zippers and buckles before instructing Draco to stand. He got to his feet, standing before her. She got on her knees at the edge of the bed, pulling here and yanking there, all while she mumbled tailoring spells until the armor fit like a second skin. Once she was satisfied, Granger tapped her wand and it turned back into the turtleneck.
Her fingers brushed his wrist. “In each of your wrist cuffs, I have sewn an undetected pocket with a modified extension charm. It's big enough to hide a blade or wand.”
She demonstrated by digging her fingers into the seam and pulling out a slim dagger. Draco felt for the seam on the opposite wrist. Once located, he dipped a finger in and brushed the hilt of an identical dagger. So that's how her blade had seemed to appear out of nowhere that first day when she cut him.
Draco suspected Granger had many of these secret pockets sewn into all her clothes.
Clever and deadly witch…
She reached for the bundle and retrieved the second garment, a pair of ordinary trousers. That is until she tapped her wand to reveal matching tactical pants.
“Time for the bottoms,” she said, holding them out to him.
Draco stood still as Granger knelt before him, making adjustments. The gravity of such gifts had struck him mute. As unfamiliar as he was with muggle goods, even he could tell the armor must have cost a fortune. Then add the additional labor and personalized spellwork? They were priceless. These items were for protecting a friend or loved one.
Not a former Death Eater…
She had to have been working on them for months. When did she find the time? Was that what she worked on in her secret workshop?
Why had Granger done this?
She mumbled her satisfaction, then transfigured them back to ordinary-looking trousers.
“There are two weapon pockets sewn into the waistband, one in your right pocket and one in each ankle cuff. Your left pocket has an extension charm like the one I explained during our escape. I've already stocked it with essential potions and other supplies.” She looked up, meeting his gaze through her thick lashes. “Any questions?”
“Just one.” Draco's voice was thick. “Why?”
Granger looked confused. “What do you mean?”
For some reason the question caused his temper to flare.
“Don't play dumb, Granger. It doesn't suit you,” he hissed.
Granger flinched at his words.
“‘Why’ is such a simple yet complex word,” she said coldly. “It could have many different meanings based on situation and context. It can be a hard question to answer and oftentimes need further clarification.”
Granger stood, brushing off her knees, her jaw tense as she continued. “So maybe you can better explain your one-word question before biting my head off for no reason.”
“Why this?” Draco growled, indicating the black clothing presently on his body. “The armor? The wand? The extra enchantments? They are obviously worth a fortune… a fortune that I can't pay… not at this moment anyway. So what's the catch? What do you want?”
He was breathless at the end of his rant. Granger blinked in surprise, her face softening. “Malfoy, I didn't do this for money or favors—”
“Bullshit,” Draco interrupted. “Everything comes with a price. These are gifts for a loved one. A friend or a family member. Not a stranger and especially not a past enemy.”
Granger stepped closer, taking his hand in hers. “Is that what you think? That is all we are? Strangers? Enemies turned reluctant allies?”
Draco tried to pull away but her grasp was firm.
“After everything we've done these past months? Everything we’ve been working for? That's not what strangers do,” Granger continued, her eyes boring into his.
He could see her wheels turning. She opened her mouth once, twice, then a third time but closed it without a sound. Then she took a deep breath and finally said, “We are partners for this mission and I always watch my partner’s back.”
Partners…
Her admission was like a bucket of ice water to the flames of Draco’s temper. Partners made sense. Though he had never worked with a partner before.
The Dark Lord liked to play his Death Eaters against each other.
But he understood the concept. The success of the mission was dependent on their survival. If one fell, it was unlikely the other could continue. Granger was ensuring her survival with these gifts.
“Everything I've done, it's because I want to protect you, Draco...” she whispered, her eyes softening with an unreadable emotion.
It called to something deep inside him. He stepped closer, bending to brush a kiss on her lips.
“Thank you,” Draco mumbled against her mouth before he pulled away but Granger’s fingers snaked up into his hair, pulling him back and deepening the kiss.
His body’s reaction was instant. Draco pulled her tight against him. Months of pent-up desire and sexual frustration had him immediately hard. He fumbled with the knot in her pajama bottoms, desperate to be deep inside her cunt already.
Granger's hand stopped his. Draco broke away panting and confused.
“I want to take our time and savor this,” she purred, biting her bottom lip. He groaned, his cock twitching against her belly. She looked down at it, then back up, a playful smile on her lips. “But maybe we should take the edge off a bit?”
Before Draco could question what she meant, Granger gave a little shove. With the bed right behind him, he lost his balance and landed on his ass. Granger fell to her knees, her hands sliding up his thighs to his buckle.
Draco’s mouth went dry when he realized her intent.
“Granger…” he croaked out. “You don—”
“Shush.” she interrupted. “Just enjoy yourself.”
Despite her trembling fingers, she made quick work of the fastenings and Draco’s hard cock was out. Using her right hand, she gave it a tight squeeze, working slowly up from base to tip.
He was panting already.
A couple more passes and a drop of precum had accumulated at the tip. Granger leaned forward, the heat of her breath tickling the sensitive skin. Draco’s lungs stopped functioning as she drew closer, waiting to see what she would do. Her pink tongue darted out, picking up the drop with the smallest of licks and his held breath escaped in a hiss.
Granger smacked her lips. She made a satisfied hum, then took his cock in her mouth, swirling her tongue around the sensitive head. He nearly lost it then, his head falling back as her tongue made another pass.
It felt bloody incredible…
Granger started to move her head. Slowly she went down, taking as much as she could until Draco hit the back of her throat. Then she went back up swirling her tongue over the top before going down again, her hand working what her mouth couldn't. His hands dug into her hair, fisting her curls. Up and down she went, over and over again. Driving him crazy.
Draco’s release came on suddenly. She twisted her hand a certain way, sucking on his head and he lost it. He tried to warn her, to pull her off, but his body tensed and the only sound that escaped his lips was a strangled moan.
He flooded her mouth. Rather than pull away in disgust, Granger hummed in satisfaction, sucking Draco’s head and swallowing every drop.
He was in awe…
Getting head was a sexual fantasy Draco never thought he would get to experience. Convincing a purebred witch to perform the act would have been impossible. Pansy gave him a murderous look the one time he jokingly suggested it. Granger had not only performed the act unprompted, but she had sucked his cock like it was her favorite sweet and swallowed his cum like it was her favorite flavor.
Merlin… could this witch be any more perfect?
She released Draco’s semisoft dick with a pop.
“Better?” she asked me with a smirk. He only had enough brain function to nod his head.
After a couple of moments, Draco untangled his fingers from her curls and pulled her into his lap. Granger straddled him, their chests pressed together. He held her to him as he sought her mouth. Her lips parted, and their tongues danced their familiar dance. She tasted of her usual muggle toothpaste and a new salty sharp taste that Draco assumed was his.
Granger’s kisses today were slow and caressing… a vast difference from her usual bruising and demanding mouth. Her hands were under his shirt. They slid over every part of Draco’s chest and stomach, tracing over every line of muscle, lingering on every scar, like she was mapping the surface of his skin.
Not mapping… memorizing…
Her intentions from her statement earlier dawned on him. Despite all their preparation and planning, there was still a chance one or both of them wouldn't come home. Even if they did survive, success would mean a signed pardon. Draco would be moved into a safe house with his mother.
This was very likely their last day together and Granger wanted to savor this. To savor them. He found that he was of the same mind.
Draco wanted to memorize every inch of her body… to taste every part of her…
He held her tight against him, his finger brushing the hem of her grey shirt. The same bloody grey t-shirt from the first night, he realized as he grasped the bottom of it.
“May I?” Draco whispered against her lips. Granger tensed and broke the kiss. She studied him. for a long moment.
“Why?” she asked softly.
“I want to see all of you,” he answered honestly. “To taste every inch of your skin.”
Granger closed her eyes, face pinched like she was in pain. It was a long time before she shook her head.
“I… can’t… I... It's… it's too much…” she stuttered. Granger's eyes were still closed, and her body tensed like she was ready to bolt.
What had happened to her to trigger this?
Draco didn't know the first thing about comforting someone, but he did know that if he didn't do something Granger was going to retreat to her room. He did not want to lose this time with her.
Not if it was to be their last….
“It's fine,” he told her, attempting to soothe her. “Forget I asked.”
Draco remembered his mother rubbing circles on his back anytime he was upset or sick as a child. He remembered it being very comforting, so he tried that. It felt awkward at first. Draco rubbed too hard and the shirt bunched up. But after a couple of passes, he found the right pressure and rhythm.
Her body was still tense and twitching, her eyes shut tight. It was then that he realized Granger was trapped in a cursed muscle memory episode. He pulled her close to him, continued with the back rubbing, and tried talking to bring her back. Draco reminded her where she was, the date, and the year.
He had no idea which memory she could be caught in or from what time, so he talked about what he did know. He reminded her of the escape and everything since in hopes it would bring her back to the present.
It worked.
Granger’s body relaxed and she sagged against Draco’s chest gasping for breath. He held her tight, mumbling into her curls that she was home and she was safe. He only realized she was crying when he felt the dampness on his chest.
They sat like that for a long time, Granger sobbing silently as he rubbed tiny circles on her back and breathed the lavender scent of her curls until she eventually fell asleep. Draco shifted her off his lap and settled her on the couch, covering her with his blanket. Then he spent the rest of the morning finding all the hidden pockets in his new clothes and pulling everything out.
He wanted to see exactly what Granger supplied him with.
Once everything was organized on the table, he did a quick inventory. 7 blades, 5 pain potions, 2 Pepper-up Potions, 2 waking drafts, 2 magic med kits, and oddly 2 burn kits. No muggle tools or supplies.
Probably because Draco would have no clue how to use them…
He took his time putting everything back, learning how the little pocket dimensions of the extension charms worked. He replaced the right sleeve pocket with the fake wand instead of the dagger and practiced switching it with his real wand.
By early afternoon Draco was proficient and Granger was still out cold.
He showered, folded the armor, and set them on the side table. Wearing his black T-shirt and sweatpants he curled up in the chair by the fireplace. With a flick of his wand, he had a fire going, filling the cabin with its crackling warmth. Draco settled in for an afternoon of reading, at least until Granger woke up. His latest read was a book called Eragon.
He did not expect that muggle fiction books were so obsessed with magic or dragons…
They were wildly inaccurate. The dragons in these books kept having the ability to speak and their description of magical creatures such as elves and dragons was way off the mark. Regardless, Draco found them fascinating and surprisingly entertaining. He read late in the afternoon until the growl in his belly reminded him that he hadn't eaten anything all day.
He fixed himself a simple supper of ham and cheese sandwiches, the only thing he could make himself. He attempted to wake the sleeping witch to offer her some food.
No luck.
Draco settled back to his reading after his meal, until the hour grew late. Still, Granger slept.
How sleep-deprived was she?
His eyes were strained from reading all day. Pair that with the late hour, he couldn't keep them open. Draco needed to get a good night's rest in preparation for tomorrow. But what should he do about Granger? Moving her back to her room was out of the question.
Draco wasn't entering her forbidden realm…
He entertained transfiguring one of the chairs into a second bed, but space was already tight with the one. He resigned himself to sharing the bed with Granger for the night. He had already done it once, though unintentionally, so it would not be a big deal.
Draco grabbed the extra blanket from the chair and squeezed in next to Granger, using his arm as a pillow because she was using the only one. She didn't move at all.
If it weren't for her soft steady breathing, Draco would be concerned that she’d died…
Spending the day reading while Granger slept was not how he thought today was going to go.
Would he have preferred to spend the whole day shagging each other's brains out?
Of course he bloody would have!
But Draco wasn't going to push Granger into something her body clearly couldn't handle.
Guess he'll have to try his damnedest to make sure this wasn't the last time…
Using his wand, he put out the lights. The cabin was dark except for the warm glow of the fire and the bed was warm. It didn't take long for the gentle crackle of the fire and Granger’s soft steady breaths to lull him to sleep.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 16: Granger Ch 16
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 16
Draco awoke alone, the running water of the shower the only sound in the cabin. The side Granger had slept on was cold. He got up and started brewing tea. He knew his body wouldn't be able to handle anything more solid.
It was mission day…
He took the time to organize his thoughts and get his emotions locked in. Draco rebuilt a small fortress, locking any nerves or fears of today deep in its vaults. He needed to be calm and collected.
At least his old occlumency was still good for something…
When he heard the shower stop, Draco finished his tea and changed into his new protective clothes. They were heavy on him and he realized that he should have practiced moving around in them a bit yesterday to acclimate him to the additional weight.
Too late now…
Granger stepped out of her room. She was wearing a similar black turtleneck and trousers with her hair plaited into 2 braids, their tails twisted and pinned into a bun at the base of her neck.
“Malfoy,” she said when she spotted him, stopping mid-step. “I'm sorry about yesterday… I hadn't realized I was in such desperate need of sleep.”
“Clearly,” Draco said with a shrug, silently noting that Granger did look better. The deep shadows were banished from her under eyes and her skin was brighter.
“I had very different plans in mind—”
“It's fine, Granger, “ he interrupted. “You can show me what you had planned for the victory celebrations.”
He said the last part with a smirk, allowing the desire to show in his eyes as he met her gaze. Granger gave him a wolfish grin of her own.
“Something to look forward to then,” was her reply as she held Draco’s gaze for a moment more. He saw the shift from playful Granger to business Granger as her eyes grew distant and cold in a single blink.
“I got an owl from Professor Snape this morning,” she offered him the note. “He got confirmation two days ago that Bellatrix and Rodolphus made it safely to Bulgaria. He has freed himself of most responsibilities today. If something goes wrong, we can apparate to his home. His wards will alert him and he will return immediately.”
Draco nodded his head in acknowledgment as he read the coded words for himself. Once finished, he folded it up and handed it back to Granger. She stashed it in a drawer.
“Are you ready?” she asked.
“As I'll ever be,” Draco answered without hesitation.
Granger took a deep, steadying breath. She held her hand out to him.
“Let's do this.”
Draco apparated them to the back entrance of the Lestrange estate, just outside the gardens. Since their stay in Azkaban, neither his aunt nor uncle had put much thought into personal appearances. Their daily looks were careless and unkempt. That same mentality had extended to the estate.
The house was in severe need of repair, with chipping paint and dingy windows. The gardens were overgrown and neglected. No one had cared for it since before the first war and it showed. It didn't help that his aunt couldn't keep a house elf for long. With her inconsistent expectations and her infamous temper, they rarely survived more than a week.
But lucky for Draco and Granger because with no elf and Rabastan’s death three years ago, the estate would be completely empty. His aunt's growing paranoia wouldn't allow her to trust anyone who wasn't family.
They only had the wards to contend with.
They approached the border and the first obstacle. With old estates like this, alerting wards like the ones Snape and Granger used were impractical. Between the numerous servants, family members, and visitors that are usually housed on the property, the constant going in and out would quickly drain the costly ward’s magic and likely drive the family head insane with continuous alerts.
So, many houses used a Blood-Status Ward instead. No mixed blood or Muggle-born could enter the premises without being accompanied by a Pureblood family member. Usually, the ward would not allow them to step foot on the property. The Lestrange wards took it a step further. Anyone of impure lineage entering the estate without permission would catch fire. If they did not immediately leave, they would continue to slowly burn to ash.
When Draco explained the ward to Granger it took her four days to conceive a solution. A potion that essentially purifies blood status for a short period of time. She pulled it out of her pocket and offered it to him without a word. The key component was a fresh drop of blood freely given by a witch or wizard of pure descent. He pricked his finger on one of his blades and squeezed a single drop into the vial. It turned from a yellow liquid to purple.
Draco handed it back to Granger and she tipped her head back, downing the contents as he healed his finger and stepped closer to the witch. Granger made a weird face.
“What's wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing. It just kind of tastes like apples. I wasn't expecting that…”
Her eyes grew distant, but then she shook her head like she was clearing a thought away.
“Time to test it,” she said, taking a step closer.
The potion’s effects were theoretical. There was no way to test it beforehand. The plan was to have Granger step on the property and if she started smoking, he would pull her back, then continue to the vaults alone.
Draco followed close behind, watching Granger carefully for any sign of fire. He held his breath as she stepped on the garden path.
Nothing happened.
She took one more step, then another as he followed her closely until they got to the secret side door. Only then did they both release their collected breath.
It worked!
But there was no time to celebrate. Granger pulled out her wand and sliced through the climbing ivy, revealing the forgotten servant's door. She started analyzing the spells on the lock. After a few minutes, she gave a smug smile and pulled out her muggle unlocking tools. The door sprang open with a click and Draco stepped forward to check for further wards as Granger put her tools away.
They had picked this servant's entrance because he had recognized it as the weakest entry point during one of his past visits here. It was a habit to be aware of all exits when he stayed in new places. Draco’s intelligence proved true when he found no further spells.
“Clear,” he whispered.
Granger nodded. Wands out, he took the lead as they entered the Lestrange house. The negligence was even more evident inside. This had once been a great house. The Gothic architecture still reflected some of its past grandeur, but it was buried under scorched and cracked stone walls, piles of broken furniture, and thick layers of dust and spider webs.
The stale dusty air itched Draco’s nose and it took everything not to sneeze. He rubbed at it with his left hand. The dust was why he hated every visit to this house. His nose would itch for days after.
Watching the hallways intently, wand at the ready, Draco held his left hand behind him and Granger took it. The second major obstacle was that the house was spelled. Anyone who hadn't been given a tour by a family member would get hopelessly lost within its walls. They would be cursed to wander the halls, never finding an exit until they were rescued or starved to death. It was imperative that they didn’t get separated.
Draco led Granger through the halls, their steps silenced. They had decided to forgo the invisibility cloak and it proved a good thing because they wouldn’t have been able to hide their footprints in the thick layer of dust on the floors anyway.
It was slow progress due to constant pausing at the creaks and groans of the old house, but they made it down to the vaults. Granger had to take another blood-purifying potion when she started to smoke, putting its effectiveness at about forty-five minutes after checking Granger’s watch. She had 2 potions left which gave them just over 2 hours.
This made Draco nervous because he had no idea how they were getting into the vault. Granger had refused to speak on it, saying she had it under control. The vault door would be their biggest obstacle.
The doors were massive. Ten feet high, eight feet wide made of goblin steel. The locking mechanism was completely magical, which meant there were no keyholes for Granger’s muggle tools. The only thing marking its smooth surface was a golden needle sticking out the middle of the Lestrange crest. It was locked by blood magic. Only Rodolphus’s freely given fresh blood would unlock it. Even Bellatrix couldn't get in without her husband.
So how could they?
Granger started pulling random-looking tools out of her bag. She retrieved a weird ‘u’ shaped device with a tail and a hammer then she went to the wall left of the door. She put the end of the u in each ear, held the tail end against the wall, and started tapping lightly on the stone with the hammer. She would stop for a moment, then move a foot over and repeat.
What madness is this?
“Granger,” Draco hissed. “What the bloody hell are you doing?”
“Shh! This is a magically amplified stethoscope. I'm checking the rock thickness.” She went back to tapping.
Clever witch...
There was no way to get through the door, so Granger planned to target the surrounding rock. The walls of vaults are built very thick so all costly magical enchantments are only needed for the entrance because that is the weakest point.
But what could get through thick rock walls fast?
Draco didn't know of any magical means. Granger was likely going the muggle route but he couldn't think of anything that could work.
He watched Granger work. A couple more taps and she produced a muggle marker and wrote an ‘x’ on the wall. She marked a few more spots then moved to the right side and repeated the same steps. Once that side was complete she went back to each ‘x’ rechecking with her muggle stetha-thing and hammer.
Twenty minutes later she had settled on an X on the right side, five feet from the vault door. Granger pulled out three white bricks wrapped together then attached said bricks to the wall with a sticking charm.
“Step back,” she warned. Draco followed Granger around the corner, and she cast several strong shielding spells. She pulled out two earmuffs and handed one to him. “These are charmed to block all sounds. You need to put them on and do not take them off until I tap your shoulder 3 times, got it?”
“Got it.”
Draco snapped them over his ears and everything went silent. The only sound was his heart pounding in his ears. Granger waved her hand to get his attention and he went to take the earmuffs off but she violently shook her head. Her eyes met his and he felt a familiar presence in my head.
‘Do not take those off,’ she warned, using legilimency to speak directly in Draco's mind. ‘I'm about to set off the explosives.’
Explosives?!?
He saw Granger's mouth ‘bombarda’ as she pointed her wand around the corner then he felt great pressure as the whole foundation shook. The passageways were filled with dust and smoke, though Granger’s shields kept it away from them.
After a few minutes, she tapped his shoulder three times and Draco took the earmuffs off. Granger dispelled all shielding charms, save one, which she pushed down the passageway clearing the air. The dust settled, revealing a gaping hole in the rock with piles of gold beyond.
Hermione had done the impossible! She had gotten them into the vault!
She turned around a triumphant smile on her face and a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Don’t you just love C4?”
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 17: Granger Ch 17
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 17
They found the cup exactly where Draco remembered it. He studied it as he picked it up. So small and unassuming, he had a hard time believing it could be a vessel for a fragment of the Dark Lord's soul, but Granger had listed a ring and a locket amongst those already destroyed. He couldn't help but wonder how strange their fate that they suffered so much fear and doubt over such small things.
Such little things…
“Malfoy?”
His name on her lips brought him out of his thoughts.
“Are we sure this is the one?” Draco asked as he handed it to Granger.
She studied it for several long minutes before answering. Just at a glance, the only remarkable thing about it was the golden crest of Helga Hufflepuff.
“It's exactly as described, but the only one who will be able to tell for sure is Harry. We need to get it to headquarters as soon as possible to confirm,” She finally answered before shoving it into her trouser pockets.
“How will Potter know for sure? It could be a duplicate,” he asked.
“Harry will be able to tell, trust me.” Granger had her ‘I can’t tell you the whole truth so don't ask’ face on.
So many secrets…
“Shall we go?” she asked, offering her hand.
Draco took it and led the way out of the dungeons. The apparition wards kept them from leaving right away. They had no choice but to go back through the house and out of the garden.
They found the rest of the house a bigger mess than before. The explosion had shaken the entire building, forcing them to walk around several broken windows and chandeliers on the way out. Dust was so thick in the air that Draco got turned around a couple of times because of it. They blasted away what they could, but that also wiped away their old footprints. He wasn't familiar enough with the layout of the house to lead through the dusty haze without difficulty.
Finally, Draco found a set of prints they could follow back to the exit.
“I kind of wish I could see your aunt's face when she returns and finds her house ruined and vault broken into,” Granger said behind him.
“No, you don't. She’s murderous when she's in the best of moods,” he said slowly. “You do not want to see what she is capable of when she is truly angry….”
Draco had spent years training with the worst dark masters on the continent. Had experienced and witnessed the full mosaic of vile acts, but his Aunt Bellatrix was the only person who truly scared him.
He had learned over the past years that for his aunt, her temper and her anger were two separate entities. Bellatrix’s temper was legendary. Unpredictable, dangerous when confronted but over quickly. Her temper was cruel but not always deadly.
Her anger though…
Due to her flighty nature, it was surprisingly difficult to push her to true anger but when it did happen it was always to devastating effects. Bellatrix’s rage centered her and gave her focus when usually she was impulsive. That is when her true cruelty comes out. The Longbottoms had been the victims of such cruelty.
Draco had only witnessed it once himself and once was one too many…
He shook his head to clear the memories away. He needed to get out of this house and they should have been at the exit by now. Draco took in their surroundings to find himself entering a vast room.
They never passed through the formal dining room…
He looked down to the set of footprints that led right through it and his heart started pounding.
“Granger,” Draco whispered, fighting to keep the panic from his voice as he clutched her hand tighter and stepped backward. “I don't think we are alone.”
He felt her stiffen. With them both on high alert, Draco tried to backtrack and find a different route out of the estate, but the air was still thick with dust. Neither of them dared cast any spells for fear of making their presence known.
Something moved ahead of them.
Draco put a shield up just as a male voice yelled, “Expelliarmus!”
He traded spells with the unknown assailant while trying to keep Granger behind him but she was yanked from his hand.
“Drop your wand, or your filthy mudblood whore dies…”
Aunt Bellatrix's voice was like being plunged into an icy lake. Her voice was cold and calm, with no hint of her usual madness.
They were so fucked…
Draco turned to witness his aunt holding her wand to Granger’s throat.
“What a pleasant surprise, my dear nephew!” she cooed in her deathly sweet voice. “We were not expecting a visit. It is lucky we changed our travel plans last minute, or else we would have missed you entirely. We were just on our way to Bulgaria.”
He felt a wand in his back. “Drop… your… wand…”
Draco had been so intent on his Aunt and Granger, that he had forgotten about Rodolphus. He met Granger’s eyes hoping for some hint of what he should do. So sure of Snape’s intel, they never planned for the possibility of running into his aunt and uncle. The curly-haired witch gave him nothing, her golden-flecked eyes were calm with no hint of fear.
She didn't understand how angry his aunt was right now or what that meant for the two of them…
Draco felt the wand tip dig into his back in silent warning. He angled his body, pretending to bow in defeat as he quickly switched wands before he tossed the fake one. His uncle bent to retrieve it and he had to suppress the urge to stomp on his hand as it snatched the decoy handle.
“You know,” his aunt started in her shrill voice. “The only person we told a different travel date to was Severus. He’s been acting so suspicious lately, suddenly finding all these traitors to the Dark Lord. But the thing is, a couple of them were my friends. True and devoted servants to the Dark Lord's cause since the very beginning. There was no way they could be turned by my traitorous nephew.”
Granger’s eyes widened and Draco knew they had come to the same conclusion at the same moment. Snape’s cover was blown.
“That got me curious,” she continued. “So I started digging around and found that none of the supposed traitors had any contact with you while you were abroad. I could barely get an owl to you while you were away. Those pesky dark masters were so paranoid and secretive. So how could you establish a spy network without contacting your spies?”
Bellatrix dug her wand harder into Granger’s neck.
“But do you know who had regular communications with you? Severus of course! He was the one responsible for getting your progress reports and issuing your orders. He was also the one who collected this filthy mudblood on the day of her capture. It was he who searched her for any weapons or tricks. Yet you both escaped and do you know who got blamed for it?”
“ME!” her voice cracked and her hand shook. ”I got blamed because of our family connection. The most loyal and loving of his followers! I would rather die than betray my Lord, but he saw fit to punish me for hours, all for the sins of my blood family…”
Draco saw it then. The tremble in her hands, they weren't from anger, not fully. Bellatrix was suffering from permanent nerve damage.
“But now I have undeniable proof of who the true traitor is. I will present Severus’s head on a platter at the feet of my Dark Lord. All will be forgiven when I bring you and your whore before him. I will be returned to his most trusted and favored follower.”
She cackled, winding her fingers through Granger's braid and yanking her head back. “But first… You both are going to tell me every single detail of Severus’s betrayal.”
“Bella…” Rodolphus spoke from behind Draco. “Wouldn't it be better to bring them to the Dark Lord first? To uncover Snape’s treachery now rather than give him time to possibly run?”
His aunt's eyes flared with rage and he felt my uncle step back in fear.
“No… dear husband…it would be more beneficial for us to break them for all the information first. We cannot afford Severus to learn what is afoot. He is too clever and will use the opportunity to twist it to his advantage in some way. Presenting all the evidence of Severus’s betrayal before the Dark Lord at once is the only way we can win.”
Bellatrix turned, digging her nose into Granger’s neck, and taking a deep breath. “Besides, I want to have some fun. Look what they did to our beautiful home and we don't even know why! We need to find out by... any… means… necessary…”
Aunt Bellatrix forced Granger forward. Draco and his uncle followed behind until they entered the formal dining hall.
“I commend you, dear husband,” Bellatrix spoke over her shoulder. “The visitor alert ward was worth every gallon after all. Having it cast after your brother’s passing was brilliant…”
Fuck!
That's how they knew! Granger had wanted to check for it, but he was adamant that his aunt would never pay the gold to ward such a large estate. He knew his aunt well enough, but not his uncle.
“Now… let us have some fun,” Bellatrix cooed. She wordlessly bound Granger in place and waved all the furniture against the walls in precarious piles. Then she approached his uncle, who handed over the fake wand.
“Further proof of Severus’s deception,” she snarled.
Bellatrix snapped it in two, dropping it to the floor. Draco’s heart stopped and he had to remind himself that his real wand was safe in his sleeve.
“I am disappointed, nephew. To waste such potential and pure heritage,” she tutted as she gave him a wild look. “And for what? A worthless mudblood? Not even an attractive one, either.”
She turned her attention back to Granger, who was struggling against her magical restraints. She was smoking.
The blood purity ward… The potion had worn off!
My aunt started cackling. “I see you are starting to feel the effects of the estate's protections. Whatever clever scheme you employed to circumvent them is wearing off. How entertaining would it be to watch your mudblood slowly burn alive?”
Golden brown met his silver eyes. Draco lunged forward but Rodolphus immobilized him and Bellatrix’s eyes flared in rage.
“No… death by fire would be too easy… too quick for the likes of her. I want her to pay for what she’s done to our family…” she said as she retrieved her wand.
“I permit the mudblood to be present on the Lestrange estate.” His uncle’s voice was loud and commanding. The moment the words were spoken, Granger stopped struggling and the smoke dispersed.
“Search Draco, dear husband, while I check the girl. I don't want any repeat miraculous escapes this time…”
Draco was powerless as he was searched. Rodolphus found the extended supply pocket, but not the weapon pockets. He pulled everything out, smashing the potions on the marble floor. Bellatrix, having found Granger’s pocket, was doing the same.
That is until she pulled out a small golden cup.
Both Bellatrix and Rodolphus looked at the cup in horror and it took a few moments for them to recover.
“How?” Rodolphus demanded, yanking Draco’s head back by his hair. “How did you get this?”
He said nothing, clenching his jaw.
“Bella!” his uncle yelled.
Bellatrix was suddenly at Draco’s side, her hands on his face forcing his gray eyes to meet her black. He knew what was coming and could only hope that his lesson would be enough. He felt her slicing into his mind and the pain was familiar. Prepared, Draco flooded her with thoughts, practicing what Granger taught him. His aunt was not ready for the onslaught and she retreated faster than he expected.
“Crucio!”
Pain seared his body, but it was nothing compared to what Draco had experienced at the hands of the Dark Lord. He was able to separate himself from it, shoving it into the deep part of his mind. The back and forth between the curse and legilimency went on for an indescribable amount of time.
“How did you know about the cup? Who told you!?” his aunt asked over and over again, her voice growing more desperate and hysteric each time Draco refused to answer before casting Crucio again.
Bellatrix screamed in frustration as he slumped to the floor and Draco was reminded of one of his master's lessons as his muscles trembled. Just because he could separate himself from the pain, doesn't mean his body didn't still experience the effects.
“Fine… if I can't get any answers from you,” Bellatrix seethed. “I'll get them from your whore.”
She stalked towards Granger, who was still magically bound, gagged, and kneeling on the floor. Bellatrix yanked her head back, forcing Granger to meet her gaze and they stood like that for a long time until his aunt broke eye contact first.
“How dare you!” She snarled, throwing Granger to the floor. “A mudblood such as yourself dares to resist me? I am your better! You should know your place!”
Granger said nothing, just stared forward in defiance.
Aunt Bellatrix was panting, her eyes wide with fury. “Allow me to teach you some proper manners! Crucio!”
Granger started writhing on the floor, her jaw clenched shut, not a sound escaping. Draco struggled to his feet and tried to reach her, but Rodolphus came behind him. He felt the cold tip of a wand press into his temple.
“You can stop this right now if you just give us the answers that we seek,” he hissed in his ear.
Draco was surprised to find that he was tempted to. Watching Granger twitch in pain at his aunt’s feet made his chest clench and acid burn the back of his throat as his stomach turned. The desire to protect her warred with the expectation for him to keep his mouth shut.
It was too much…
When Bellatrix paused the spell to continue her interrogation, Draco was ready to answer, to tell them everything. He would do anything as long as they let Granger go. He opened his mouth to speak but then her golden brown eyes caught his.
‘Don’t,’ the familiar voice rang through his mind.
Draco’s jaw snapped shut and he shook his head. He tried to turn his head as Bellatrix began again, but Rodolphus wrapped his arm around his neck, forcing him to look forward.
“Then you will witness every moment of your mudblood’s pain, knowing you have the power to stop it but refuse to.”
The torture continued and blood filled Draco’s mouth as he bit through his lip in a desperate attempt to keep silent.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 18: Granger Ch 18
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 18
The torture went on for hours or maybe it was only minutes.
It felt like days...
Draco felt helpless as he was forced to watch Granger suffer until his Aunt Bellatrix let out a frustrated scream, tossing her wand to the ground like a spoiled child.
“Legilimency doesn't work!” she screeched. “Cruciatus doesn't work!”
Freed from the magical restraints, Granger struggled to her feet, a look of fear on her face that did not meet her eyes. The look simultaneously filled him with relief and dread.
What was cooking in that beautiful brain of hers?
“I guess we’ll have to do this the old-fashioned way,” Bellatrix growled. A flash of silver drew Draco’s attention back to his aunt as she pointed her favorite goblin blade at the seemingly defenseless witch.
“It's all your fault!” She ranted, her voice grew more shrill with each word. “My fall from favor! Draco's treachery! My sister's infirmity! Everything can be traced back to you! I will make you pay with your filthy blood.”
His heart stopped as Bellatrix lunged at Granger. Unable to look away, he saw the curly-haired witch straighten and draw a blade from her sleeve with a well-practiced flick of her wrist. He then watched the blade slide effortlessly into Bellatrix’s gut as the two witches clashed.
Still held at wand point, Draco felt Rodolphus tense. Before his uncle could react, he grasped his arm and pivoted his body forward exactly the way Granger taught him. His swiftness flipped the dark wizard onto his back, right into the broken shards of the smashed vials. A startled pain-filled yelp sliced through the air, cut short as Draco plunged one of his hidden blades into his uncle's unprotected neck. Dark eyes widened in disbelief even as a gargled sound escaped his gaping mouth before going completely still.
Rodolphus Lestrange was dead, his precious pure blood spreading around him like a crimson tide as it mixed with the grime of the estate.
With one enemy dealt with, Draco rushed over to Granger. The witch stood over his aunt, who was panting as she scrambled back across the floor, a blade buried deep in her belly. Her weak attempt to escape was pointless. Granger had dealt a killing blow. Bellatrix would bleed to death in a matter of minutes without the right healing spell, a skill she had neither the wand nor the ability to perform.
Draco turned his attention to his partner. “Are you alright?” he breathed, surveying her.
His heart stopped when he spied the deep slice in Granger’s side. His aunt must have gotten her with the goblin blade when they clashed. “You’re hurt!”
Her blood was red. The crimson drops fell like a sprinkling of rudies onto white marble. It was just as red as Draco’s. Redder in fact. The perfect shade to match her Hogwarts house banners.
A Gryffindor to her very core…
This fact didn't surprise him. In 8 years of war, he had seen enough blood to disprove his childhood belief that mud did infact flow in muggle-born veins. But seeing her blood felt different. Watching the steady stream of vital fluid spill onto the floor filled Draco with rage. If Bellatrix had not already beem dealt a death sentence by Granger’s blade, he would do it himself.
As he looked around for something to stop the bleeding, Draco briefly considered healing the belly injury himself so that he could have the satisfaction of killing his aunt slowly. Instead, he concentrated on the silent witch before him. Wordlessly summoning a tattered tablecloth from one of the piles of furniture, he pressed it against Granger’s side to staunch the bleeding. That seemed to bring her back from wherever she had been as she turned, looked at him then down at her side.
“Oh…” she said distractedly as she pushed the bloodied cloth and his hand away to examine the damage. “This is nothing… I've had much worse.”
Draco was about to argue that slowly bleeding out was indeed something worth worrying about when a scream came from behind.
“PESTIS INCENDIUM!!!”
He tackled Granger to the ground, his aunt's Fiendfyre curse just missing them. Bellatrix's insane cackling filled the room and Draco realized how grave an error it had been to assume she was crawling away in defeat.
He knew her better than that!
Hell-bent on not going down without a fight, his aunt had crawled the short distance to her wand while they had been distracted. Her spell took the shape of giant flame cobras which slithered around the room causing the furniture piled against the walls to catch in the blaze.
“We need to get out of here!” Draco yelled over the roaring of the flames as he tugged Granger towards the main entrance hall.
No need to worry about any wards protecting the estate with the last Lestrange descendant dead.
They sprinted, hand in hand towards the exit. The flames licked at their heels as they passed over the threshold of the huge ornate doors into the grand hallway but then Granger dropped his hand as she halted.
“Wait!” she cried, turning back. “The Horcrux!”
Draco caught her arm. “Leave it! You said Fiendfyre is one of the few ways to destroy it.”
“But we need it as proof! No proof, no pardon!” she argued as she searched the blazing room for any sign of it.
The heat had intensified to the point that Draco’s face felt tight and itchy as if from a burn despite having no contact with the flames. Walking back into the hall would be like walking directly into an oven. She must have spotted something because she started forward.
This crazy witch wanted to charge into a room full of Fiendfrye...
For Draco!?
He tried to yank her back but she twisted out of his grasp.
“Granger stop!” he yelled, trying to catch her.
The witch was too fast. She darted out of his reach and into the infernal heat. He watched her sprint to where the cup lay forgotten in the middle of the room still untouched by flame due to the lack of kindling. Draco’s heart started to pound in his ears.
It was like everything was placed under an arresto momentum spell…
Helplessly, he watched as she dodged the flame cobras in slow motion. He watched her bend down to pick the cup up. He watched as she turned, cradling the cup with a triumphant smile, wondering at how she was able to touch it with her bare hands.
Surely it had to be unbearably hot?
And Draco watched as a fiend snake darted out of the flames behind Granger.
“HERMIONE!!!” he screamed, but it was too late.
He watched the flames curl around her. Then the world shifted from moving slow to fast, but not fast enough.
He charged forward, ignoring the sting of his overheated skin as he pulled out his wand and cast a ‘pestis incendium’ of his own. The only way to fight Fiendfyre was with Fiendfyre. Flame Dragons sprang from his wand, chasing the cobras away until Hermione’s body appeared.
Draco dropped to his knees beside her, assessing the damage, and was relieved to find her badly burned, but thankfully still breathing. He cast the counter curse and a stasis charm, grateful that one of his masters over the past 7 years had been a Fiendfyre expert. His dragons kept the fire at bay as he scooped her up, his hand brushing the now-blackened but surprisingly cool cup. Tempted to kick the blasted thing into the flames, his logic won out and Draco pocketed it.
He ran with Hermione held carefully but securely in his arms. The witch needed potions and healing immediately. He already knew that they didn't have the supplies required at home and taking her to Saint Mungo's was out of the question. Maybe a muggle hospital could do something? But Draco didn't know how to locate one. Nor did he know any Order safe house…
Wait… Snape! He knows the location of the Order healer!
With a plan and a quick prayer to Merlin that the unconscious witch in his arm would survive long enough to get the help she needed, Draco charged through the halls, blasted the main entrance doors off their hinges, and out into the courtyard. The second he felt them pass the estate border, he apparated to Snape’s house.
They landed in his hallway. Without stopping, Draco ran into his potions room and shoved everything off the work table before gently placing Hermione down. He frantically started pulling burn, pain, and healing potions off the shelves and anything else he thought might help.
Then he heard the crack of apparition from down the hall.
“We are in here! Quick! It's Hermione!!” Draco yelled as he uncorked a burn potion and poured it over her arms. The armor sleeves and parts of the legs had burned away, revealing blistered discolored flesh. Other parts had melted, fusing with the witch's skin.
Snape charged in, a look of horror on his face.
“What happened?” he demanded as he sprung into action, helping to pour the burn potion all over Hermione’s body.
“Fiendfyre…” Draco breathed. The potion master hissed, then grabbed another option from the shelves. He recognized it as one for counteracting dark curses.
He should have thought of that…
“Bellatrix and Rodolphus showed up,” Draco explained as they continued to work.
Snape froze. “How?!?” he demanded.
“It doesn't matter!” Draco hissed back. “They are dead. Hermione is not! But she will be if we don't get her to a healer!”
“We can't risk moving her,” Snape reasoned after casting and consulting a diagnostic spell. “She’s in too fragile of a condition. We are lucky that apparating here didn't kill her. We need to get her stable, then I will go retrieve the healer myself.”
They worked in silence. Snape force-fed Hermione something for the pain while Draco cleaned and covered every inch of her burned flesh.
It was bad…
If she managed to survive, the scarring would be horrific, but Draco didn’t care. He just wanted her to live and prayed to Merlin that this head healer was as good as Hermione and Snape claimed him to be. He erected his fortress as he worked, containing his anxiety and fear for the unconscious witch behind thick stone walls.
Once his tasks were completed, Draco stepped back and was surprised when Snape took his place. The older wizard started casting complex healing charms. More than a couple were ones he had never heard of before. Draco watched in awe.
He never expected the ex-headmaster’s medical knowledge to be so extensive…
Once he was finished and another diagnostic spell confirmed that Hermione wasn't going to die in the next five minutes, Snape prepared to depart but before he left, the dark-haired wizard tried to get Draco’s attention.
“Why are you still here?”
“There is something I must inform you about before I bring the healer here,” he said carefully. “Pertaining to his identity and your shared past.”
After months of keeping this secret, he decided now was the best time to reveal it. When Hermione was practically on her deathbed?
Draco buried the sudden rage deep within his fortress.
“I do not give a flying fuck who this bastard is,” he hissed. “He could be bloody Albus fucking Dumbledore back from the dead and I wouldn’t give a shit.”
His old mentor bristled at the clear disrespect that was in his tone, but Draco didn’t care and continued, “If you don’t get a move on, I will curse you out of this room. Do not make the mistake of thinking I won’t.”
Snape’s eyes narrowed, but he started towards the door. “Just don’t do anything stupid when he arrives,” was all he said before he left the room.
Draco ignored the older wizard’s last words as he took the least blistered of Hermione’s hands in his. The memory of what happened flashed before his eyes, shattering the walls that contained them. His chest clenched as he remembered her slipping through his fingers, the dread that consumed him as she darted across the room, and the anguish when she was consumed by flames.
“You stupid witch,” he whispered. “How could you be so bloody reckless? All for a stupid pardon! And for me of all people! It wasn't worth risking your life for.”
Draco felt a burning sensation in his eyes. Reluctantly, he released her hand and wiped his face. His fingers come back damp with tears. He was crying.
Draco hadn't cried in years…
Not since learning that his mother would never recover and yet he was crying now for the frustrating witch before him.
“You better not die,” he meant the words to be an order but they came out more like a plea as more tears streamed down his cheeks. Draco took a deep breath as he scrubbed at his face, desperate to contain his emotions before Snape returned.
“Granger is made of tougher stuff than most. It will take more than a few burns to take her out,” a familiar voice spoke. A voice Draco hadn't heard in seven years. A voice he thought he would never hear again.
He whipped his head around as Theodore Nott walked into the room, followed close behind by Snape.
“Hello, Draco. Long time no see,” he said with his typical sarcastic tone.
Draco stood, closed the distance between him and his apparently not-dead friend, then punched Theo in the face.
Hard.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 19: Granger Ch 19
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 19
Snape pulled Draco out of the room to cool off and allow Theo to work in peace. His head was spinning despite not being the one that got hit.
Theodore fucking Nott…
He was not only alive and working with the bloody Order, but had trained over the last five years and proved to be a gifted healer.
“How?” was all he could say as Snape handed him a glass of firewhisky. Draco took it with a trembling hand and downed it in one gulp. It burned a familiar and pleasant trail to his belly.
Merlin, he missed this…
Draco handed the glass back to Snape, who promptly refilled it before offering it again. This one he sipped slowly. It did not take long for the warm haze to spread from the center of his chest and numb the stinging in his hands and face.
“Mr. Nott had overheard a private conversation between Professor McGonagall and myself that pertained to Order business during 5th year. He confronted me after, but rather than threaten to blow my cover, he offered to help.”
“Theo became a spy for the Order?!” he asked in disbelief.
“Quite an effective one at that,” Snape answered. “He was adept at gathering information from his father or the children of other Death Eaters. When he left Hogwarts, Theodore integrated himself into Death Eater society, going to all the parties and social gatherings. He was practiced at getting his targets drunk, which loosened their tongues, before plying them for information. We got what we needed without the use of force or memory charms and his victims were none the wiser.”
“But why? With his family and upbringing, Theo was raised to be the next generation of Death Eaters, just like I was,” Draco said softly.
Snape sat in the chair across from him. He studied his glass of fire whiskey, swirling the contents as he thought of his answer. “When I asked young Theodore why he wanted to join the Order, he said he wanted to honor his mother’s memory.”
“What?” Draco asked, confused. “Mrs. Nott died when Theo was just a baby. He never knew her. How could he know what she wanted?”
“As I'm sure you noted, Theodore has always had a kind soul,” Snape spoke carefully. “He inherited it from his mother, Ambrosia, rest her soul. We started Hogwarts the same year, sorted in the same house, though I don’t know how the sorting hat could sort her into Slytherin. Ambrosia could never abide by the mistreatment of people or animals. She was always standing against bullies and blood purists at school. Her union to Theodore Nott Senior was an arranged marriage. They were the worst possible match and why her family agreed to it, I'll never understand.”
“She was vehemently against the Dark Lord and everything he stood for, which posed a problem for her Death Eater husband. As you know, shortly after Theodore's birth, Ambrosia died under mysterious circumstances. Everyone believed it was due to complications from the birth. I was not so convinced. I don't think Theodore was either.”
Everything Snape described about Mrs. Nott, described Theo also. Even as a child, he was constantly getting in trouble for nursing injured animals into his room or getting detention for fighting bullies. Unfortunately, Draco was one of those bullies and that was why they drifted apart in school. That is, until 5th year.
The year Theo started spying for the Order…
“I can see where your mind is going, Draco.” Snape cut in. “Theodore might have initially renewed your friendship for Order business, but it developed into a true friendship. He was genuinely concerned about you all through 6th year. He begged for me and the Order to step in and save, you though he didn't know the full details of your circumstances or the Dark Lord's orders. He almost broke from the Order after Dumbledore’s death because of what transpired.”
Draco could feel himself getting overwhelmed. Between the day’s events, Hermione almost dying and Theo’s return from the grave, it was too much to process. So he rebuilt the old fortress, and shoved it all in the dungeon to unpack later. There was just one last piece of information he needed before he locked the door tight.
“What happened five years ago that caused him to go into hiding?” he asked.
Snape did not hesitate with the answer. In fact, he seemed to expect it. “Through a series of unfortunate events, which I will not speak of because that is not my story to tell, Nott Sr. discovered Theodore’s secret. He was barely alive when I rescued him from the Nott estate the day his father died, but our healers were able to save him. As an act of appreciation, he joined the healer's program, proved quite gifted, and raised quickly through the ranks, despite resistance from within.”
“Why would there be resistance?” Draco couldn't help but ask.
“There isn't much love for Death Eaters or their offspring amongst the members of the Order. Despite our contributions, many would prefer we have nothing to do with the Order at all. Most believe we are beyond redemption,”
“Hermione doesn't believe that,” Draco said softly as his eyes drifted to the closed door of the potion room.
“No,” Snape said just as softly as he too looked towards the door and the unconscious witch behind it. “She does not.”
They sat in silence, nursing their drinks as they waited for news. After what felt like an eternity, Theo stepped out. The serious expression on his old friend’s usually smiling face both unnerved and worried Draco.
“Are you the one who cast the stasis charm?” he asked Draco directly.
He nodded his head in answer before adding, “And the counter curse.”
“Your quick thinking saved her life,” Theo said, looking impressed. “It slowed the progression just enough to keep her injuries from turning fatal. Pair that with your quick work with the potions, she should recover fairly well. We will have to see how the new injuries counteract with her old ones before I make a full assessment, but I'm confident there shouldn't be too many issues.”
Draco wanted to ask what he meant about old injuries, but he was too relieved to speak.
“I’m going to move her to the Order hospital,” the curly-haired wizard continued. “I’ll need to keep her for observation for a couple of days.”
“I'm coming with you,” he said without hesitation.
“Draco, you can’t,” Snape argued. “They will arrest you on the spot”.
“No, they won't,” was Draco’s reply as he pulled the blackened cup from his pocket.
“Is… is that…” Theo said, unable to finish his question.
Draco nodded his head, stowing the cup back in his pocket.
“Theodore, take Ms. Granger and Draco to the hospital,” Snape ordered calmly. “I will go to Shacklebolt and appraise him of the recent developments.”
Theo nodded his head before motioning for him to follow. They entered the potion room and Draco was not prepared for what he saw.
Hermione’s armor was gone. Instead, she was dressed in a long green hospital gown that fit her loosely from neck to ankles. Her face was pink and smooth, like sunburned skin versus the angry red blistering skin of before. The only indication of her earlier condition was her short, clearly singed hair. It encircled her head like a curly halo.
Theo had repaired much more of the damage than he expected, never mind in such a short period of time. He truly was a gifted healer…
Draco stepped to Hermione’s side, took her hand in his, and brushed the new skin with his thumb. He traced the soft ridges of scar tissue that had replaced the smooth flesh as he studied her sleeping face.
“I was able to grow most of her skin back, though there will be some scarring. The worst will be on her hands and lower arms. That was where her protection charms were the weakest,” Theo told him. “My biggest concern is her airways and lungs. She breathed in a lot of smoke and flames. It will take a couple of weeks of rest and a strict potion regiment to repair, and she will likely have scar tissue that could result in breathing issues for the rest of her life, but it should be manageable.”
Draco remained silent. He knew from years of friendship that Theo was not done…
“My second concern is muscle damage,” Theo continued. “Granger already suffered from past cruciatus-induced muscle damage. I'm afraid that between the event earlier this year and today, she will likely suffer from worsening tremors and muscle weakness.”
“Hermione doesn't have a tremor,” he said confidently.
Theo gave Draco a strange look. “You may not have noticed it. She is on a daily potion of my own creation to manage the tremors and pain.”
He thought back to the past months. There were a few moments he had noted a tremor, especially in her hand, but Draco always associated it with nerves or excitement. He had never witnessed her taking a daily potion, but she could have easily been hiding it in her room.
More secrets, Draco thought bitterly.
“When will she wake?” he asked.
“I have Granger sedated in anticipation of moving her to the hospital. Once we get her settled I will reverse the spell. Then it will be up to her.”
“Let's get her to the hospital then,” Draco said as he scooped her up, ignoring the pain in his hands as he did so. He was anxious for her to wake up, not only because he was full of questions but also because he knew his anxiety would not settle until he saw those golden brown eyes again.
She felt so small and fragile in his arms and it unnerved him. In the short time he had known the witch, she never acted anything but strong and in control. Draco held her against his chest as they walked to the hallway. Theo grasped his and Hermione’s arm and he felt the familiar tugging of side along apparation. They landed in a simple room with white walls, some cabinets, a single bed, and a couple of uncomfortable-looking chairs.
“Set her down on the bed,” Theo instructed.
Draco did so, then covered her with the thin cotton blanket.
“I'll reverse the sedation spell,” Theo explained as he waved his wand.
He watched Hermione’s face intently, but there was no sign of her waking.
“Her body is still healing and in desperate need of sleep,” his companion said reassuringly. “I don't anticipate her waking anytime soon.”
Draco nodded his head in acknowledgment as he pulled a seat closer to Hermione’s bedside.
“You need an exam,” Theo stated matter of factly, his palm on his shoulder.
“I'm fine,” Draco said, shrugging his hand off.
“No, you're not,” the curly-haired wizard argued. “I can see the minor burns on your face and hands, likely from heat exposure, plus you went through a traumatic Cruciatus event. I need to look you over.”
“I think I'm more familiar with my body’s limits than my long-deceased friend,” Draco snapped in response.
Theo sighed in defeat. “Look, I understand why you are angry with me. I'm willing to let you wail on me both verbally and physically if it will help you get past this, but first, let me examine you.”
He opened his mouth to argue, but there was a disturbance at the door. Draco turned his head in time to see Shacklebolt charge in, flanked by Potter and the weasel. Snape trailed behind looking very annoyed.
Theo cut them off.
“What is the meaning of this, Shacklebolt? My patients need rest,” his old friend spoke, his voice low and cold.
Snape moved to stand beside Theo and together they created a physical barrier between the Order leader, Hermione, and Draco.
“Head Healer Nott,” Shacklebolt said matching his cold tone. “I have an important Order business with Ms. Granger. It simply cannot wait.”
“As you can see, Granger is asleep,” Theo stated gesturing to the sleeping witch. “Surely your business can wait until she is conscious.”
“Yes,” Shacklebolt sneered. “but her Death Eater is not. We wish to take him in for questioning.”
“I informed you of the state of both Ms. Granger and Mr. Malfoy when they arrived at my home. Neither are in a fit condition for questioning,” Snape hissed.
Draco rose to his feet.
“Say what you have to say, Shacklebolt, then get out,“ he said coldly, meeting the older wizard’s hate-filled stare with one of his own.
“Is it true then? You discovered and destroyed a Horcrux?”
Draco pulled out the blackened cup as he stepped forward and threw it at the Order leader’s feet. The coward hesitated to pick it up, so Potter wordlessly bent down to retrieve it. He studied it for a long moment, then nodded his head.
“It’s the Horcrux,” Potter said simply and Draco wondered how he could be so sure.
“As promised…” a voice croaked from the bed.
Draco spun on his heel to find Hermione awake, propping herself up on her elbow and glaring at Shacklebolt. Relief washed over him as Theo rushed to her side, checking her vitals.
Draco filled his empty spot beside Snape, maintaining the barrier between the Order members and Hermione. Potter and the weasel didn't seem concerned about their long-time friend's current condition. They were too busy glaring at the ex-head of Slytherin house and him.
“Granger, don't try to speak,” Theo ordered “You need to rest.
Hermione brushed him off.
“You asked for a Horcrux,” she said slowly, her voice extremely hoarse. “There is your Horcrux. And with time to sp—-”
Hermione broke into a coughing fit. The room remained in a silent standoff as Theo conjured water for her to drink. The Order leader was at least decent enough to wait until her coughing fit was finished before speaking again.
“I don't remember making such a deal, Ms. Granger,” Shacklebolt said with a mischievous smile.
Rage rose in Draco as he fingered the hidden pocket at his wrist, but before he could pull his wand, Snape produced a weird grey box. He pressed a button and Hermione’s slightly distorted voice filled the room. “What do you want?”
“What?”
“What would it take to secure the pardon?” Hermione’s voice again.
There was a long pause.
“A Horcrux.” There was no mistaking Shacklebolt’s deep voice. “Find and destroy a Horcrux and the pardon is his.”
Snape was somehow replaying the conversation from the meeting word for word. The Order leader looked furious. Potter and Weasley looked confused.
“Timeline?”
“Six months.”
“Swear it.”
“What?”
“Swear it on your magic. You've broken your word, Shacklebolt. You don't honestly expect me to trust you?” even distorted, Hermione’s dripped with disdain.
Another pause.
“I swear that if you can recover and destroy a Horcrux in six months’ time, Draco Malfoy will receive a full pardon for all his crimes committed as a Death Eater.”
Snape clicked the device off.
“No games this time,” Hermione forced out. “You asked. We delivered. Draco gets his pardon.”
Shacklebolt turned on his heel and stormed out of the room but Potter and Weasley remained. Potter’s gaze went from Draco to Snape then Theo. They softened a bit when he looked at Hermione.
“Malfoy will get his pardon,” he told her. “I will make sure of it.”
“Thank you, Harry,” she said softly.
He nodded his head and turned to leave. Draco let himself relax. That is until he noticed the weasel hadn't moved a step. Blue eyes surveyed Draco, Theo and Snape standing around Hermione with clear disgust.
“When did you turn into such a snake lover, Hermione?” he spat out.
Hermione went completely still, her face cold and deadly, eyes distant. “When they proved more loyal than the lions, Ronald.”
The weasel turned bright red with rage, stuttering for a response. Potter, who had stopped at the door to wait for his friend, at least had the decency to flinch at her words. Weasley stepped towards the bed but Draco cut him off.
“You need to leave… now…” his voice was cold and sharp like a blade as he held his wand in front of him, ready to curse him if he tried anything. Draco felt Theo and Snape close in behind him.
Weasley backed up, fear clear in his eyes. He scampered out of the room without another word and Potter followed close behind.
Draco watched them go.
There was movement behind him. Hermione was hunched over, hand covering her mouth, coughing and gasping for breath. Theo was at her side, pushing her back and ordering Snape to get a potion. Helplessly, Draco stepped out of the way so the potions master could get to the cabinets. Theo took the potion, popped the cork, and forced it down Hermione’s throat. Her body heaved a few times to try to expel the contents, but she kept it down and the cough subsided.
A short time later, Hermione had fallen asleep again. Theo stood over her, checking her vitals. Snape had left a short while ago to prepare the pardon paperwork for Draco to sign. The blonde wizard sat in the uncomfortable chair, chin on his folded hands, studying Theo as he worked. A deep bruise had bloomed on his jaw where he had hit him earlier.
Draco knew he should feel bad about it, but he couldn't find it within him to care. His thoughts were consumed by the unease of Hermione recovering within the Order headquarters. Something told him she would find no peace or comfort here.
“I don't think Hermione should stay here,” Draco said aloud.
Theo stopped what he was doing and he saw his old friend’s wheels turning. After a few moments, he nodded his head with a half smile.
“I think you are right.”
Then Theo’s smile grew wider.
Why did he look so amused?
“What's your problem?” Draco demanded, his temper rising.
His smile grew more.
“You called her Hermione…”
Draco’s temper died with his words. So he had and he didn't even realize it.
When did that start?
“You guys must have gotten close these past few months,” Theo said with one of his knowing looks.
Draco didn't say anything, just stared at the sleeping witch.
That was putting it mildly…
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 20: Hermione Ch 20
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Hermione
Chapter 20
Hermione was still sleeping when Snape reappeared to take Draco to sign the pardon. Hesitant to leave her side but eager to get it over with and out of here, he followed reluctantly. His mentor led him through the empty halls of Order headquarters to an office space he guessed belonged to Potter and Shacklebolt. Thankfully the office was vacated.
Draco didn’t think he had it in him to be civil through a second altercation…
The pardon sat on the empty desk. He read through it quickly. It was exactly as she said. Full pardon as a Death Eater… must leave the country come the end of the war… never step foot on British soil again…
Draco signed it and shoved it back at Snape.
“And the vow?” he asked. The potion master stilled momentarily before continuing to roll the parchment up.
“One is no longer required.”
Odd, but Draco didn’t question it. He guessed that killing a high-ranking Death Eater while retrieving a Horcrux was proof enough of his willingness to undermine his previous master.
“When can I take Hermione home?”
Snape lifted his brow.
“Aren't you interested in visiting your mother?” he asked.
Fuck! With everything that's happened, Draco had completely forgotten about his mother…
“Is she here?”
Snape shook his head. “Theo has her settled in a separate safe house with round-the-clock care. Being at headquarters and the main hospital was too overwhelming for her condition.”
“You’ve seen her yourself?” He asked.
“Yes. She’s quite content.”
Draco nodded his head in acknowledgment. He now understood why Snape had been so adamant that she was in good hands. His mother had been a surrogate to Theo. He’s the only person Draco would trust to care for her as well as he could.
If he was being honest with himself, Theo was probably better because he was a healer.
“Once Hermione is settled in, I'll arrange a visit with Theo to see her,” Draco responded.
The potion master nodded his head, then pulled up a second chair and angled it to face him.
“What happened?” he asked.
Draco knew the questions were coming. He had hoped to push it off until Hermione was awake to help answer.
So much happened and so quickly…
But Snape’s face was serious. He would not entertain any excuses or attempts at a subject change.
So Draco told him everything. From arriving on the estate to Hermione's method of vault cracking, which didn’t seem to surprise the older wizard at all and made him question if this was the first time his witch had blown something up. Then getting turned around in the house, and the unexpected appearance of his aunt and uncle. Draco used occlumency to help keep his voice even as he spoke of the hours of torture, but it still cracked when he described Hermione’s charge into Fiendfyre.
“My aunt purposely gave you a different travel date because they suspect you as the real traitor,” Draco explained after his tale was finished. “Your cover with the Death Eaters is likely blown.”
Snape considered for a moment.
“I don't think so,” he said, rubbing his chin. “Bellatrix was too paranoid of a person to trust anyone with her suspicions until they were proven true. She wouldn't dare risk being put in worse favor with the Dark Lord.”
“Are you willing to bet your life on that?”
“My staying at the Dark Lord’s side is a key element of the plan’s success,” was all he said.
This stupid bloody plan again…
“Now that I've signed the pardon, can you tell me who orchestrated this grand plan?”
Snape shook his head. “I’ve been sworn to secrecy and cannot speak on it. You will have to ask Miss Granger.”
Convince Hermione to divulge one of her many secrets willingly.
Yeah, that wasn't happening…
“Can you at least tell me if it was Theo or not?” Draco asked coolly.
Theo was one of the few people he knew who was clever enough to think up such a plan.
“While he is one of our top strategists, Theodore recused himself from this mission. He felt he was too close to the target to be objective.”
The target being Draco…
At least he had learned that Theo was an Order strategist and likely knew who was responsible. His old friend would tell him what he wanted to know. It was the least he could do after pretending to be dead for five years.
“Before you go off to interrogate Theodore, you should know that he has sworn the same oath as I,” Snape said, putting a stop to Draco’s plotting. “And he has been a long-time practitioner of Ms. Granger’s occlumency technique.”
Bloody hell… Even in her sleep, the witch was thwarting his plans.
Draco was quickly running out of options to discover the truth. Potter and Weasley wouldn't do him any favors, and Shacklebot already proved himself to not be an ally. He had no idea who else could possibly be high enough rank to be in the know, but even if he did, the chance of getting an answer was nonexistent.
He released a frustrated sigh.
Draco had already waited this long. He just needed to be a little more patient. Someone would eventually slip up and then he would get his answers.
~.~
Hours later Draco half carried a very groggy Hermione out of headquarters. Before they left, he made plans with Theo for a visit to his mother next week. He stepped out of the building, an abandoned muggle boarding school, and apparated them home.
She insisted on a shower the moment they arrived. Claimed she could not rest properly until she was cleaned. Despite his uncertainty, something told him not to argue. He helped Hermione to the bathroom and conjured a stool upon her request.
Draco did try to argue when she demanded to be left alone to bathe but relented when it became clear the stubborn witch would not budge. He waited outside the door, listening carefully for any sign of distress. He did not relax until the door opened a short time later.
He returned the couch to its original state with a flick of his wand and helped Hermione to it. Theo had said it would be a faster recovery if they kept her sitting up. Less stress on the lungs or something of that sort.
Resigned to sleeping on the floor for the foreseeable future, Draco helped dry Hermione’s damp hair with a quick drying spell before settling her in with a pillow and a blanket.
It was rainy but unusually warm for early November so he opened the patio door to let in a breeze. Draco figured fresh air would be good for her too. Then he set about clearing his pocket of the plethora of potions needed for Hermione’s recovery and organized them on the kitchen table before he brought over the first one.
“Here,” he offered it to her. Hermione took the potion, and downed it in one gulp, making a face at the taste. Draco went to step away and let her rest. He was in desperate need of a shower and a change of clothes, but she caught his hand.
“Can you stay with me?” she asked softly, her eyes glazed and heavy. Theo had given her the good shit before they left and it looked like it had started to kick in.
Draco hesitated, unsure what she was asking. “I— er. Do you need me to get you something?”
“No… just stay.” she pleaded, tightening her hold, weakly pulling him towards her. “Please.”
Why would Hermione want him of all people? Draco had planned to care for her by administering her potions, making sure she was fed, and getting enough rest but he didn't know the first thing about how to comfort someone drugged and in pain. Even when it was his own mother.
Hell… Even Snape would probably be better than him…
“Please… you keep the nightmares away.”
Draco’s chest tightened at her words and he relented with a nod of his head. He helped her move over to make room, then sat next to her on the couch and pulled the blanket to cover his legs. Hermione rested her head against his shoulder and it was only a matter of moments before she drifted into a drug-induced sleep. Careful not to disturb her, Draco reached over to grab his book and settled in for a reading session.
He awoke hours later to the sound of thunder. After the events of the prior day, Draco was not surprised that he dozed off. What did surprise him was that he and Hermione had shifted at some point and were now tangled around each other.
With them both now vertical on the couch, the witch was tucked between him and the back cushion with her head resting on Draco’s chest, her cheek pressed against his heart. His left arm was wrapped around her, his hand resting on her waist. The unconscious witch had one leg wrapped around his thigh with her dainty foot tucked under his calf. The book was caught between their bodies, the pages pressed in odd angles
Draco knew that she would be cross if the book was permanently creased, so he tried to carefully yank it out but stilled when a scarred hand clenched at his shirt. He held his breath, waiting to see if she was waking up and only released it when Hermione’s breath evened out. His second attempt was successful in extracting the book.
Draco rested the book on his chest and tried to smooth the pages with his other hand since his wand was in a pocket he could not access at the moment. Not without waking the sleeping witch.
Outside the cabin, the storm grew stronger but he wasn’t worried. The patio door was charmed to not let the rain in, so there was no need to rush to close it. The atmosphere was surprisingly peaceful. Hermione’s soft snores combined with the soothing pitter-patter of rain on the roof. Her weight beside Draco was reassuring after everything that transpired in the last 36 hours.
The memories flooded his vision. Draco’s aunt standing over a bound Hermione as she thrashed on the ground… his aunt's astonished face as she looked down at the dagger sunk into her stomach. Bellatrix’s snarl as she cast Fiendfyre… Hermione's body enveloped by flames…
She had almost died…
The thought caused something in Draco’s chest to squeeze painfully and he held the sleeping witch a little tighter as a strong breeze blew through the cabin, filling the air with the earthy damp smell of rain. It was like a balm for his anxious thoughts.
Draco had always loved the smell of rain…
As a child, he and his mother would sit together in the sunroom, doors wide open, and watch the storm for hours. It was one of the few happy memories he had from his childhood.
Another gust shook the cabin. It rustled through Granger’s short curls and the half-opened book. The sweet medley of rain, parchment, and lavender caressed his nose, triggering an old memory. A memory of Slughorn’s class in 6th year. The professor had several potions for the class to identify. Hermione had been the one to identify the love potion amortentia.
Draco remembered it being mentioned often in the witch romance novels his mother used to favor. It was believed that the personalized scent of the love potion hinted at your future love. Out of curiosity, he dawdled after class to get a whiff. The scent that filled his nostrils was the undeniable smell of rain, books, and lavender.
The same exact scent that tickled his nose at this very moment…
Draco’s whole body tensed at the revelation.
No…
This—this cannot happen…
He could not have feelings for the witch!
She drove him insane! With her know-it-all attitude… her intellect…her cleverness…
No… no… no!
Draco couldn’t stand her! The way she rambled on when she’s nervous… the way she challenged him on everything… pushed him to think outside the box… to be better…
Fuck…
Fuck!
That's it! He doesn't have feelings for her exactly. Draco just enjoyed fucking her…
He enjoy the way she moaned his name… the scent of lavender that surrounds him as he buried deep in her perfect cunt… the way her mouth always tasted of her stupid muggle toothpaste when they kissed…
Fuck… fuck… FUCK!
Draco glared at her.
How could Hermione be sleeping so peacefully when his entire world was shifting?
He couldn't help but study her sleeping face. Draco had never seen it so relaxed and peaceful. The fact that she trusted him enough to allow this vulnerability.
Him! Draco bloody Malfoy!
Of all the people in her life, he was the one she wanted at her side… the one who kept her nightmares away…
Something clicked into place deep inside him and Draco realized he was totally and completely fucked.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 21: Hermione Ch 21
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 21
Snape paid them a surprise visit the next morning.
Hermione was still sleeping peacefully on the couch. Draco had managed to untangle himself without disturbing her a couple of hours ago. After a much-needed shower and change of clothes, he was in the kitchen preparing tea and toast when the potion master arrived.
He was still wearing the same robes from when Draco last saw him but his face was drawn, with bags under his eyes. Snape looked beyond exhausted.
“I'm going to guess that your cover with the Dark Lord was not blown due to the fact you are standing before me relatively intact,” Draco said as his old mentor sat in the kitchen chair.
He pushed the cup of strong black tea he was brewing for himself towards the older wizard. Draco had the feeling Snape needed it more. The potion master accepted it wordlessly, mumbled a quick wandless cooling charm, and drank it down.
“I was right in my assessment of Bellatrix’s paranoia,” Snape said once he finished. “The Dark Lord suspects nothing of me. Between the Lestrange estate burned to the ground, and your aunt and uncle missing their meeting with the Bulgarian government last night, he believes they have joined you on the run. He was furious all of last night.”
“And the Horcrux?” Draco asked hesitantly.
“He is not aware that I know of their existence. He would not say anything to me, but he was not concerned about the fact that the estate was burned to ash. I do not believe he was informed that the cup had been removed from the Gringotts vault…”
“How long until he finds out?”
Snape thought for a moment before answering. “It will take a couple of weeks for the goblins to report Rodolphus as dead and the Lestrange vault abandoned. They have to go through the proper channels to locate a blood heir, of which there is none. Then obtaining his will, which has likely not been updated since before his incarceration. Only when no new owner is located will Gringotts be mandated to report it to the ministry.”
“And then the Dark Lord will use his influence to gain control of the vaults,” draco reasoned.
Snape nodded his head. “But that will not be for some time. Goblins are not known for their speed or willingness to adhere to wizarding bureaucracy.”
“Hopefully we make some headway on finding the next one before he discovers the cup is missing,” Draco sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
The whole thing was giving him a headache…
Snape looked at him in surprise. “You wish to continue? After you’ve already earned your pardon?”
Draco had thought about it long and hard after his little revelation as he watched Hermione sleep. He knew she would continue the hunt even if she had to do it alone. She was brilliant but she was also reckless and prone to self-sacrifice.
A bad habit she likely picked up from Saint Potter…
His gaze drifted over to the sleeping witch. Even the crack of apparation hadn't woken her. Left to her own devices, Hermione could get herself killed and that possibility twisted painfully in Draco’s gut.
But he wasn't going to admit that to anyone, especially not Snape…
“There needs to be an end to the war in order for me to benefit from the pardon,” he replied instead. “With what little I've seen of the Order, it's clear that if left to manage on their own, we will likely still be fighting a decade from now.”
Snape’s lips twitched, making Draco believe that his mentor was inclined to agree.
“I can’t just sit on my hands and watch as others fight,” he continued. “I won’t let my fate be decided by the actions of others.”
Snape’s gaze shifted from Hermione, passed out on the couch then to Draco and back again.
“And there is nothing else, or should I say no one else, influencing this decision?” He said with a smirk.
Draco busied himself with drinking the cup of tea he had set aside for the sleeping witch, avoiding his piercing looks, and refused to answer. They sat in heavy silence until the potion master left.
~.~
Hermione’s recovery was slow, just like Theo predicted.
She suffered from a near constant wheeze the first week and the smallest activity often left her breathless. Her voice was hoarse to the point that talking for more than a few words often resulted in coughing fits. The majority of her communication was done with parchment and a muggle contraption she called a pen. Draco would never admit this aloud, but he thought the device was infinitely more convenient then a quill and ink.
The potions Theo prescribed to help her recover also made Hermione extremely groggy. She continued to sleep on the couch, often between Draco and the back cushions with his chest as her pillow. Sleeping together had become the new normal that neither of them questioned or acknowledged.
Draco didn’t know if it was because of their shared near-death experience or if it was his personal revelation, but something had shifted in their relationship. The atmosphere between them was less tense and argumentative.
And not just because Hermione couldn’t speak.
Being in each other’s presence was just easier. Comfortable even.
Every morning they would wake up tangled together. Draco would make an easy breakfast of toast and tea while Hermione showered. They would eat, she’d take her first potion of the day then he would go shower. The mornings were spent curled up on the couch reading before sharing a simple lunch of sandwiches or soup. Afternoons consist of short walks around the property to build up Hermione’s strength and breathing exercises to improve her lung capacity.
Theo, fully aware of Draco’s cooking abilities—
Or more accurately, lack thereof…
—arranged for supper to be sent to the cabin by owl every night. Then they would spend the rest of the day exactly how it began. Reading in front of the fire until they drifted off to sleep.
Draco could not remember a more peaceful time in his entire life…
~.~
It was two weeks before Draco met Theo for the visit with his mother. Their initial meeting had been canceled due to a medical emergency that required the head healer’s attention. He had received a note with dinner the night before with instructions on the place and time.
At fifteen past eleven, Draco apparated to the meeting point where Theo was already waiting.
“Draco,” the curly haired wizard said in greeting.
He said nothing, just nodded his head in acknowledgment. Draco had a lot of time to think about Theo faking his death over the past couple weeks and realized that he was extremely pissed at his old friend.
Draco would be civil but their friendship status was still undetermined.
The healer seemed to be expecting it because he wasted no time on pleasantries.
“Snape informed me of your desire to continue the hunt. I thought it would be best if I apparated us both to the safe house, so if in the event you are captured and your mind compromised your mother's location is secure.”
Smart…
Draco nodded his head in silent agreement and Theo touched his offered elbow and they disapparated. They appeared in a cozy-looking cottage. It was a bit smaller than Hermione’s cabin, with simple furnishings. An elderly witch greeted them.
“Draco, this is your mother’s full-time caretaker, Mrs. Esme,” Theo introduced.
“Mr. Malfoy,” Mrs. Esme said, eyeing him with a calculated gaze that put him on edge.
Draco could tell right away that Mrs. Esme was a serious witch, with her grey-streaked dark hair pulled back in a neat bun and her green eyes that pierced through her thick glasses. Her attire was a simple black robe that fit her well. Obviously tailored. Though her face carried some wrinkles, it was hard to tell her age.
“Mrs. Esme is a retired healer who worked in St. Mungo’s for 20 years. Her specialty was long-term care and curse recovery.”
Draco studied the witch as intently as she did him.
“And you trust her to care for my mother?” he asked coldly. “I can’t imagine many people are lining up to willingly care for the wife of the notorious Lucius Malfoy…”
Mrs. Esme bristled at his words and pinned him with a look that was reminiscent of a disappointed Professor McGonagall.
“I would think your mother raised you with better manners,” She scolded. “Honestly? Questioning a witch's integrity right in front of her face like that. I'll have you know I volunteered for the position. I take my oath to care for the sick and injured very seriously, even in my retirement. Your mother deserves respect and compassion for her infirmity, despite her past and who she married or birthed. I knew no one in the Order besides me would be willing to offer her that.”
Draco’s eyes grew wide and his mouth fell open at the unexpected tongue-lashing. He noticed Theo shaking with suppressed laughter out of the corner of his eye.
“I… I apologize for my perceived disrespect, Mrs. Esme,” he said begrudgingly, his hands held up in surrender. “There are many in the world that curse my family’s name and wish us ill. I'm extra cautious with my mother's fragile state. She cannot defend herself.”
The old witch backed down. “Apology accepted. I cannot fault you for your concerns. If you will follow me, I'll take you to her. It's a good day and she likes to sit in the garden.”
Draco followed Mrs. Esme, punching the still silently laughing Theo in the arm as he passed him. They walked through the small living quarters out the back door. The garden was actually a charmed greenhouse, warm and filled with the scent of blossoming flowers.
His mother sat on a bench facing the rose bushes. She was dressed in quality robes with her hair swept back and pinned in an elegant chignon, just the way she liked it, without a single strand out of place.
“Narcissa,” Mrs Esme said softly as the old healer touched her shoulder. “You have a visitor.”
His mother turned, her eyes falling on him. A soft smile curved her lips and Draco thought he saw a flash of recognition in her eyes.
“I'll give you some privacy,” Mrs. Esme said softly, excusing herself.
Draco knelt before his mother, bringing them face to face.
“Hello, Narcissa,” he said softly.
Narcissa, not mother… because she did not know him.
The Dark Lord broke something in her mind the night his father died. She could walk and do very simple tasks like feed herself, but she could not communicate. She didn’t remember being married or anything of her life.
Not even her son…
When it first happened, in his desperation Draco tried legilimency. He had to see for himself what the healers claimed to be true and vainfully hoped to prove wrong. He had hoped to find her trapped in her mind or that she had delved too deep in her occlumency.
What he found had devastated him. Her mind had become a vast empty space with only the most basic urges. Narcissa was well and truly gone. All that was left was a shell.
A walking memory.
The only thing she responded positively to from her past was her name. Draco couldn't even call her mother because she would become agitated and trigger a violent episode. There was nothing to be done but to keep her as calm and content as possible.
Draco took her hands in his and studied them. They were so tiny in comparison and unusually steady.
“You’ve done something for her tremors?” he asked.
“She responded well to my Cruciatus potion. It has been added to her daily regiment.” Theo answered behind him.
“Any other improvements?” Draco asked.
He already knew the answer before he spoke but could help but ask it.
“No, Draco. No other improvements…”
Hope was worse than a weed, he thought bitterly. You think you've pulled it out completely, root and all, and go about your life only to turn around and find it grown again…
His mother smiled down at him, her eyes empty. She lifted her hand to his face, lightly brushing the strands of hair on his forehead. Draco resisted the urge to lean into her touch. Being overly affectionate was another trigger.
It was torture having his mother right in front of him and not be his mother. Not for the first time, he wished that the Dark Lord had just killed her like he had his father. Then the guilt twisted painfully in his gut.
Draco was a horrible son for thinking such thoughts…
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the familiar and comforting scent of her rose perfume.
“How are her episodes?” he asked without opening his eyes as he savored the gentle caresses.
His mother was fascinated with his hair. She liked to play with the strands and watch the way they shone in the sunlight. With her fingers brushing his forehead, Draco could almost pretend she was comforting him like she had when he was a child.
“There were a few when she stayed at the hospital. All the people and activities were far too stimulating. It was Mrs. Esme’s idea to move her to the cottage. She had a theory that Narcissa would do better in a smaller environment. Her theory proved true. She has only had one violent episode in the months since staying here.”
“She does seem much calmer. Almost happy,” Draco admitted.
“We have taken extra care to make this cottage as comfortable for Narcissa as possible. I even put the greenhouse in for her. Thankfully, Mrs. Esme is a talented gardener as well.”
“And you truly trust the old hag?” he asked.
Draco heard the soft chuckles of a suppressed laugh. He opened his eyes and twisted his head just enough to glared at the wizard he had known since childhood. Theo just looked more amused
“Mrs. Esme is a great healer and caretaker. She was one of the healers that saved my life five years ago and is also one of the many people who trained me,” Theo said assuredly. “I was going to request her assistance with Narcissa but she volunteered before I could. There couldn't be a better fit.”
Draco nodded his head in acknowledgment before turning back to face his mother, who resumed her petting.
“What is your professional opinion on me moving in here?” he asked the healer.
Theo took a long time to answer.
“There are only two rooms, so it would require some expansion charms. Consistency is a comfort to Narcissa. To introduce a new person into her living space while changing her environment would be a recipe for disaster.” Theo moved into his line of sight. “And before you ask, moving her to a new place will be just as bad. I do not recommend making the change until you can dedicate yourself to being a constant in her life.”
“What do you mean?”
“Narcissa needs a routine to feel safe,” Theo explained. “Every day the same food, with the same people and activities at the same time. The occasional shift like a visitor on a good day is fine, as long as everything else is unchanged. You are not in a place to offer that right now. With the hunt and the war, you will be in and out at odd times, possibly gone for days. Narcissa can't handle those kinds of disruptions.”
Draco looked at her smiling face. “But she’s my m— she’s Narcissa. I should be with her, taking care of her.”
“You are taking care of her by prioritizing her needs over your sense of desire and duty,” Theo argued. “Splitting your focus will only hurt Narcissa in the long run.”
He opened his mouth to argue further, but Mrs. Esme appeared.
“Excuse me gentlemen, but it is time for Narcissa’s midday meal. She does not take well to company while eating, so I must respectfully request you both to leave.” The was no room for argument in her tone.
With a sigh, Draco gently took Narcissa’s hands from his hair and met her distant blue eyes.
“It was good visiting you again, Narcissa. I hope to see you soon,” he said softly.
When he stood, her smile faltered for a moment until she spotted Mrs. Esme. The caretaker led Narcissa away and he followed Theo out of the greenhouse.
“What were you saying in there about splitting my focus?” Draco asked.
Theo turned to face him. “Of the two witches in your life, Narcissa is the one that needs you the least right now.”
“I don't know what you mean.”
The wizard gave him a ‘do you think I’m an idiot?’ look that was vaguely familiar. “Really? No clue? Why don't you tell me how our favorite Gryffindor is faring after her near-death experience?”
Draco glared at him which his old friend answered with a triumphant grin.
“Trust me to take care of Narcissa and I will trust you to keep Granger alive. Deal?”
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 22: Hermione Ch 22
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 22
Theo apparated them to his office because Draco needed to pick up more of Hermione’s potions. As he was stocking his magically expanded pocket, another healer walked in requesting Theo’s assistance with a patient. The blonde waved him off. He already knew the way to the exit, there was no need for an escort.
“Hello, Draco,” a soft musical voice spoke as he stepped out of Theo’s office. Draco turned to spot Luna Lovegood sitting cross-legged on the floor. “I knew I would run into you here.”
“Lovegood,” he responded to her with an awkward greeting.
The last Draco saw her was when she was a captive in his family’s dungeons. He would sneak down there when he was home to bring some extra food or potions for her and the wandmaker. He didn't much care about the old man.
It was Ollivander’s stubbornness that kept him down there…
But Lovegood had done nothing to deserve her captivity. She was a hostage to keep her father in line… very much like Draco had been.
He took a moment to look her over. The past years seemed to have been kinder to her at least. She had filled out again, which was a huge improvement on how starved she’d been. Lovegood was the picture of health, especially considering that her hand was resting on a very distinct bump emphasized by the garishly bright orange and green dress that puddled around her.
Lovegood studied Draco in turn, pinning him with her pale silver eyes. Not for the first time he wondered if she had any Malfoy blood in her. With her blonde hair and unique silver eyes, they could have been mistaken for cousins, or possibly even siblings.
“It's good to see you’ve embraced your true self again. It's not good to hide behind stone walls.”
Her words startled Draco.
Was she a legilimens? He hadn't felt any intrusions…
He understood why they called her Loony in school. There was definitely something off about her.
She held her hand out in a silent request for assistance. Bred to be a gentleman, Draco took it and helped the witch to her feet. A clumsy silence grew between them as Lovegood stood there, eyeing him expectantly while she rubbed her belly.
“Um… I guess congratulations are in order,” Draco said awkwardly.
“Thank you!” she said beaming. “Neville is thrilled.”
So she ended up with Longbottom. That was an… unusual match.
“He has been so very patient and respectful of my wish to not have a child until after the war has ended.”
Draco couldn't help but give her a confused look. “But, the war is still going on.”
Lovegood—
Actually, wouldn't it be Mrs. Longbottom now?
Nope… too weird.
—just shrugged.
Before he could comment further, someone bumped into Draco. Hard. He and Lovegood were standing against the wall, out of the way of Theo’s door. They were in no way blocking the flow of traffic.
So the action had to be intentional.
“Watch where you're going, Death Eater.”
Draco spun around to find the she-weasel glaring at him. Apparently, her manners were just as abysmal as her brother’s. He opened his mouth to snarl at her, but Luna stepped around him.
“My apologies, Ginny. I bumped into Draco as he was leaving Theo’s office. We got caught up talking about the babies,” Lovegood said, rubbing her belly to emphasize her point.
The She-Weasley was stunned into silence either at the fact that Lovegood was defending Draco or the topic they were supposedly discussing. “Oh… okay…”
“I was just going to walk him out,” Lovegood continued, grabbing his arm before either of their surprise wore off. Draco was too stunned to speak after the whole bizarre interaction and was dragged away.
“I’ll catch up with you later, Ginny!” The silver blonde called over her shoulder as she pulled him around a corner.
What the hell just happened?!?
“Sorry about that,” Lovegood apologized as she let go of his arm. “When Harry gets stressed the people around him get… tense. Ginny and Ron tend to be the most influenced because they live with him. Kingsley too, because they work so closely. Harry and he are pretty much joint leaders of the Order at this point. They have been sharing an office for years.”
“What could Potter possibly be stressing about?” Draco hissed. “Which hand to sit on each day?”
Lovegood actually glared at him, which was not something he ever expected from the mild-mannered witch. “There is a lot at stake right now. The wrong decision could reverse all that Hermione has done. He especially hates that Hermione feels she’s the only one to do them.”
“Why? Because he wants all the glory for himself?”
Lovegood shook her head. “Despite the rift in their friendship, Harry still cares about her. He hates seeing her get hurt, but they are both stubborn, especially Hermione. She won't accept help from anyone. Not willingly.”
“You’ve got that right,” he breathed
The stubborn witch will be the death of him…
It took Draco a moment to realize Lovegood wasn't at his side. He turned around to find her studying him with a far-off look.
“Hermione is such a clever witch…” Lovegood said, her voice dreamier than normal, which Draco didn't think was possible. “But her brain is busier than a nest of nargles… so consumed with the monumental tasks she’s taken onto herself… she can’t see what's standing right in front of her…a. partner to share the burdens that she's carried alone for far too long… who will break the binds of blood and prejudices… who will prevent her from giving more than she can give… who will give her a reason to embrace death and return…”
Her words filled Draco with dread and unease.
Then Lovegood’s eyes shifted, seeing him again, and they were extremely sad.
“Stay by her side, Draco, or you'll both be lost,” her voice was barely a whisper.
He had no idea what just happened or how to respond.
“Lovegood, what the fu—”
“Here,” Luna said, interrupting as she handed Draco a folded-up piece of paper. “Open it when you and Hermione are back together. Oh! And tell her Crookshanks is doing well. He settled in nicely with Neville and me, but I can tell he misses her a lot.”
Before he could question her further, someone came up behind him and hissed, “What are you doing here Malfoy?”
Draco turned to come face to face with none other than Ron Weasley. His sister stood right behind him, looking smug.
The littlest weasel had scampered off to find her brother.
“We don't need a Death Eater spy roaming headquarters unescorted,” he said with a glare.
“I'm not even going to acknowledge the spy comment with a response,” Draco sighed with thinly veiled annoyance. This was turning into a very irksome day and he was starting to get a headache. “I know your observation skills have left much to be desired in the past, Weasley. That's why you were a shit Keeper in school. But even I would hope you would notice the witch currently at my side.”
He gestured towards Lovegood with his closed fist. The paper crinkled in Draco's hand and he shoved it in his pocket while Lovegood gave an awkward little wave. That seemed to only piss Weasley off.
“What is a ferret like you even doing here in the first place?” he growled.
What was his deal? Was Weasley trying to bait Draco into a fight? What was the point? To turn the Order against him?
He was pretty sure every member already hated him...
Was the weasel trying to negate his pardon? Though Draco couldn’t remember the exact terms of the deal, he was sure attacking the best friend of Saint Potter would rescind the terms of his arrangement.
As much as it irritated Draco, he had to remain civil…
“Not that it's any of your business,” he said, jaw clenched. “I was picking up more potions for Hermione.”
“Since when have you been on a first-name basis with Hermione?” the she-weasel hissed.
“Again… none of your business,” Draco answered evenly.
“You and Hermione are such great friends now, you're running her errands? Isn't that elf’s work?” Weasley said. “Can you imagine? A Malfoy willingly helping a muggle-born witch.”
The ginger-haired siblings snickered.
“Next you are going to say that the great Draco Malfoy has been playing healer and nursing her back to health.”
“Someone had to,” he snarled, outraged at her supposed friends' indifference to the curly-haired witch’s recovery. “Hermione almost died, yet none of you offered to help or even visited her. You were all such great friends at Hogwarts, she was hurt during Order business, and yet not one of you could bother to even send an owl.”
They all bristled at his words. The she-weasel at least looked remorseful. Even Lovegood looked chastened, which Draco felt bad about. She had not been his intended target.
The older Weasley just got redder, sputtering at a response. “It's her own fault! Hermione was the one who decided to go rogue. We didn't push her out!”
“Didn't you?” Draco hissed, getting in his face. “Can you honestly say you put in any real effort and supported her?”
The blonde wizard dropped his voice so only the weasel could hear. “Or did you do what you do best and lay back while Hermione did all the work?”
Draco stepped back enough to watch his expression. With the way his eyes flared, he knew his old school rival had picked up on the hidden meaning behind his words. He saw the moment the ginger realized how and why Draco would know such details.
“No,” Weasley breathed. “She wouldn't—you couldn’t—”
Draco flashed him a smirk in response and his freckled-covered face went white.
“Five months is a long time to be stuck in a cabin with someone,” he said, continuing to keep his voice low. “You can't help but get to know each other in a multitude of ways, and I got to know Hermione remarkably well. I know things about that witch that you could never dream of.”
Draco stepped back and said the next part aloud. “And the fact that you had her and willingly let a witch like that go. You truly are an idiot.”
Weasley lunged at him, but his sister caught him.
Draco stepped away from Lovegood, putting space between them in case the weasel got loose. He was reluctantly impressed with the she-weasel. She was surprisingly strong and was able to hold her brother back as she tried to calm him down.
“He’s not worth it,” she kept repeating until her brother stopped struggling.
Draco was slightly disappointed. He would have really loved to knock the weasel on his ass…
Once calm, Weasley shook his sister off, glaring at him. Draco met his stare, a smirk on his face, refusing to back down. He knew he should walk away and let the ginger stew in his rage, but provoking the weasel had always been a favorite pastime of his.
Blue eyes narrowed and then Weasley did a surprising thing.
He smirked back like he just won the standoff.
“I'm surprised, Malfoy, that you would forgive her so easily. You’re known for holding a grudge.”
What was Weasley going on about?
He must have seen Draco’s confusion because he said, “She didn't tell you, did she?” Suddenly he looked gleeful.
“See… I’ve known Hermione for years. She just loves keeping secrets. And I'm willing to bet that she has been keeping a rather big one from you all this time.”
Draco knew Weasley was baiting him, hinting at the information he wanted. The redhead’s smugness was grating and the smart thing to do would be to act like he did know and walk away. To not let him know he’s right. To not let him win.
But what if the information Weasley was dangling was the identity of the strategist? Draco couldn’t pass on the possibility…
“What are you going on about, Weasley?” he hissed.
Lovegood and the she-weasel both looked concerned.
“Ron, don’t. You promised to not say a word,” his sister pleaded.
Weasley ignored her.
“The fact that Hermione is the one who cooked up the whole plan to turn you to our side. Her capture, tricking you-know-who with fake memories, it was all Hermione. Your fall from grace was all her idea.”
His voice was surprisingly calm for someone who just shattered Draco's entire reality.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 23: Hermione Ch 23
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 23
Draco turned on his heel, rushing away from them, but he could still hear the she-weasel berating her brother.
“You idiot! What do you think he’s going to do to Hermione now that he knows the truth? Stop him!”
A stunning spell whizzed past Draco’s ear as he turned the corner. He picked up speed, dodging Order members in the hall. He heard yelling behind him, but couldn't make out the words over the pounding in his ears.
Draco was so fucking stupid…
Of course, it was fucking Hermione! She was the only one with enough brain cells in this whole operation to put together a plan like that. The only one that Snape had demonstrated a willingness to protect multiple times. The only one in a high enough position in the Order to propose such a mission despite her estrangement.
It all made sense now…
Someone grabbed at his robes as Draco charged through the exit, but he shrugged them off, evading his would-be captor. Then he felt a stunner spell bounce off the protective charms in his clothes.
How ironic that Hermione was the one who insisted that he wear the armor on his solo visit today, just in case. Now her gift was protecting Draco from being captured by those attempting to protect her.
Draco would laugh if not for the rage coursing through his body.
He stepped through the wards and apparated to the cabin. Hermione wasn't on the couch. Draco tore around the corner towards the kitchen. She stood at the stove, replacing the kettle. Two mugs sat on the counter beside her, the tea bags seeping.
“How was your visit with your mother?” she asked, her back towards him.
She was reaching for the honey when Draco came up behind her. He wrenched her shoulder around, forcing her to turn and face him.
“Wha—” Hermione started, but his blade at her throat interrupted her.
“The visit was, surprisingly, not the most informative part of my day,” Draco growled at her. “That honor goes to the very interesting interaction I had at the headquarters after the fact.”
Hermione tensed but said nothing.
“I had an unprompted run-in with the youngest Weasley, who decided to go off and fetch her brother so they both could bother me on my way out. Do you know what happened?” he asked her.
Hermione remained silent and still, her face blank.
“During our unfortunate interaction, he happened to let slip the identity of the strategist responsible for my current situation,” Draco hissed. “Imagine my surprise to discover that the witch that I have lived with these past months, the one that slept beside me, and called herself my partner, was not only the catalyst for my downfall but the mastermind behind it?”
She said nothing, her blank stare meeting his.
Why wasn't she trying to plead for her life?
She knew Draco wanted revenge. That he swore to make the head strategist pay for what was done to him…
Why wasn't she defending herself?
Draco knew from their training that Hermione could easily disarm him and get away. They had practiced this exact scenario a month ago and Hermione had turned his blade against him with ease. He may have caught her off guard in the beginning, but the minutes dragged on as they stared at each other, waiting for the other to act.
How satisfying would it be to exact his revenge with the blades she had gifted him?
Draco could so easily slide its sharp edge across Hermione’s throat… to watch the spark of life in her eyes dim as her blood drained from her body. Or plunge it in like his uncle and listen to her choke on her own blood… he had done so much more to wizards that had wronged him for so much less…
Yet the thought of hurting her caused a tightness in his chest.
Where had Draco's rage gone?
Hermione swallowed, the movement causing the blade to dig into her skin. A small drop of blood beaded at the tip and then trailed down. He watched the bright red thread of liquid slide down the pale column of her throat and pool in the crease of her collarbone.
Panic gripped him as memories flooded his brain.
Hermione convulsed on the ground… the blood leaking from her side… of holding her burnt body in his arms…
Draco dropped the blade like he had been burned. Stepping away, he stared at his hand, a feeling of betrayal coursing through him. He didn't know if it was for his own mind and body or the woman standing before him.
Somehow, this witch had carved herself so completely into Draco’s heart that even the smallest injury to her person set his body on edge.
“Draco,” Hermione said softly, stepping closer, arms reaching hesitantly like she was approaching a wounded animal. “Let me explain.”
He was tempted to listen. To let her get close, surrender to her embrace, and allow her to soothe away Draco’s distrust and fear. The blonde took another step back, refusing to look at her.
Was this all part of her plan from the very beginning? Had she set out to ensnare his affections and twist them to her whims?
“Draco, plea—”
He fled. Exiting through the patio door, Draco ran through the property, past the marked border into the unfamiliar woods beyond. He ignored the yells of the witch behind him and cursed the pang of concern he felt for her still-recovering body.
It didn't take long to lose her, but Draco kept running until his lungs were burning and there was an ache in his side. When he couldn’t run anymore, he fell back against a random tree, bent over trying to catch his breath. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or scream at the situation Draco found himself in.
He was alone, lost in the woods, an enemy of both the Death Eaters and the Order. Draco had no home, no family, and no friends. His one ally proved more clever than expected and out-maneuvered him.
He slid down the tree, sitting on the dead leaves. Draco was too emotionally exhausted to move. He didn't know how long he sat there but the surrounding forest turned dark and the cold November air started to bite at his cheeks and nose. Draco pulled his wand to cast a warming charm but that was only a temporary fix.
He could not stay out here, but Draco refused to return to the cabin. Theo and the Order were out of the question.
That only left one option…
Without another thought, he apparated to Snape’s home. The potion master wasn’t home but that was expected. The older wizard had stated on his last visit a couple of weeks ago that he would be traveling with the Dark Lord. Draco had the place to himself.
Memories of his last visit flooded his mind as he headed for the drawing room.
Of clutching a dying Hermione to his chest as he cleared Snape's work table… Of working tirelessly to save her while convinced it was hopeless… Of seeing his long-dead friend step through the door and the feelings of hurt and betrayal…
Merlin, Draco was so tired of the relentless rush of memories and emotions. He needed something to block them. The blonde wizard went straight to the liquor cabinet and grabbed the first bottle, not caring about the contents. Ignoring the cups, he uncorked it and took several long drafts. It burned going down and settled into a comforting warmth in his belly.
Grabbing a second bottle, Draco settled into the couch with plans to get fully and gloriously wankered. After months of not touching a drop, it did not take long and under the comforting haze of alcohol, he tried to pinpoint when it all went wrong. It did not take much reflection to realize that Hermione had so thoroughly and efficiently cut all the threads of his past life and wrapped them around herself like he was a puppet.
The revelation that Draco had unwittingly traded one puppet master for another was not a pleasant one.
He took another long draft.
After further consideration, Draco decided he preferred the Dark Lord. At least the madman was honest and clear with his expectations. Fear and threats of physical pain were much easier to understand than the betrayal and emotional turmoil he was experiencing at the moment. And hiding behind occlumency was no longer an option.
Another thing the curly-haired witch took away from Draco…
Hermione had taken everything. His home, his status as the Dark Lord’s most trusted soldier, his independence, and his freedom. Not to mention Snape, Theo, and his mother. Then she lured him in further with her clever mind and perfect cunt.
Draco cursed and took another sip. His body grew heavy as the warmth of the alcohol spread through his veins. He knew he would regret it in the morning, but the numbness was blissful after the emotional roller coaster of the past few weeks. Or months to be more accurate.
It all started downhill the moment Hermione Granger stepped foot into the Nott Estate…
Draco threw the glass bottle and it shattered against the floor.
Everything was her fault! Including the fact that he even knew what a roller coaster was! Six months ago Draco knew nothing about muggle culture or tech.
He pressed his palms into his eyes and groaned. It wasn't fair to put all the blame on the witch. Draco had done this to himself. He had forgotten his father’s most important lesson.
Never trust anyone who's not family, and even then expect to be betrayed…
Draco had lived by his words for a long time and it was a lonely but uncomplicated existence but it kept him alive.
His lids grew heavy.
How had he been so easily led astray? Was it the years abroad?
With no family or friends and training with some of the most heinous witches and wizards, Draco must have been desperate for any kind of connection. It was no surprise that a couple of acts of kindness and he was putty in her hands.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 24: Hermione Ch 24
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 24
“Get… up…” someone seethed, waking Draco from his alcohol-induced slumber.
He was jostled off the couch, hitting the ground hard. An involuntary groan escaped his lips as the impact awakened the pounding in his skull. Draco cracked his eyes but shut them against the blazing light.
Merlin… it felt like his head was filled with raging hippogriffs…
It took a couple of moments before he could force himself to look up at Snape, who sneered down at his unanticipated house guest. “So, after setting the Order off like a hive of angry bees, then upsetting Miss Granger, you decided to break into my house, drink my alcohol, and make a mess of my drawing room?”
Draco groaned, pressing his palms firmly into his eye sockets in an attempt to halt the throbbing in his skull.
It did not work…
Normally, he would reply with a snappy comeback about how if the older wizard had told him the truth months ago, everything that happened yesterday could have been avoided, but that wasn't happening in Draco's hungover state.
“I had nowhere else to go,” was all he could mumble out. The inebriated wizard looked over to the mess of dried whiskey and glass shards and breathed a sigh of relief to see that he had just missed the bookshelf of priceless potion texts.
Thank Merlin...
“I'll clean that up,” Draco offered pitifully.
“Don't bother,” Snape said as he waved his wand and vanished the mess.
With another flick, he wordlessly summoned a potion from the other room and handed it to the blonde. Draco downed it immediately, the familiar taste of hangover potion coating his tongue and the raging migraine in his head calmed to an annoying ache.
“Are you here to drag me back to the Order?” Draco asked as he sat up.
He knew that despite not attacking anyone, Weasley and the Order would likely spin yesterday’s events to their benefit.
“No. Mrs. Lovegood-Longbottom went straight to Theodore. They were able to calm the situation while Potter and Weasley went to check on Miss Granger. When they found her unharmed, there was no basis to detain you.”
Draco huffed a disbelieving laugh. “Of course, they suddenly remember the cabin now, instead of months ago.”
Snape’s lips pressed into a thin line. He had come to the same conclusion.
“From the way Theodore recounted the events, they returned to headquarters with their tails between their legs, thoroughly chastened by Miss Granger.”
Oh, to have witnessed Hermione’s temper directed at those two…
Draco was disappointed he had missed it.
Concern that she hadn't slowed her recovery yelling for him yesterday, then giving her ex-friends a much-needed tongue lashing flashed through him, followed by shame and anger.
Draco should not care about the witch who lied and betrayed him…
But it persisted until he had no choice but to ask, “How is she?”
“I don't know,” the potion master said with a hint of barely concealed concern. “I couldn't get in. I imagine she locked her wards after the unexpected visit from Potter.”
Shit… she could be hurt and no one could get to her.
Draco shook his head, trying to clear the thought. He shouldn't care. He wouldn’t care. He refused to give the witch another thought.
If only his treacherous mind would oblige…
“Did Theo tell you what set the events of yesterday in motion?” Draco asked Snape as he looked up to meet his eyes.
The potion master nodded his head.
“Why didn't you tell me?” he demanded. “Why did you protect her? Why did you let me stay with the witch that destroyed my life?”
“Destroyed your life...” Snape’s eyes narrowed. “That witch risked her life to get you and your mother out of an impossible situation. Then she clothed, fed, and sheltered you without any expectations for a return on her investment.”
“She wanted information,” Draco snapped back. “And eventually roped me into the whole ‘take down the Dark Lord’ scheme by dragging me into the Horcrux hunt. I would call those returns on her investment.”
“The information was for your pardon, you twat,” the potion master seethed. “We didn’t need it to complete the destabilization of the Dark Lord’s regime, which has been made abundantly clear already. And the Order Leader was the one to ‘rope you’ into the scheme with his impossible request. Miss Granger was prepared to continue on the hunt alone while secreting you and your mother away to safety. You choose to volunteer, quite adamantly if my memory serves me correctly. Her only goal was to keep you safe.”
“Bullshit,” Draco spat. “Hermione had been all too eager to accept my help.”
“Eager… EAGER!?” He had never seen Snape so angry and feared for a moment that his mentor would actually strike him. “How can you say that when Miss Granger gave you every opportunity to step away? Going as far as to make you wait several days to speak with me about your other options before accepting your decision.”
The memory of sitting across from Hermione at the kitchen table as Draco realized that she wanted him to choose to run away all those months ago flashed through his mind, but the potion master continued.
“Or how about the fact that she begged me multiple times to convince you to change your mind and choose safety, even just two weeks before your mission? She worked herself to the brink of collapse to ensure that you were as prepared as possible and yet she was willing to sacrifice it all to the detriment of herself and the mission.”
He was reminded of the night Snape had disappeared into Hermione’s room. She had been so despondent during his toast and he couldn’t understand why.
Had it been from worry?
Yet the potion master said nothing upon his exit. Had not tried to convince Draco to change his mind.
“If she was so adamant, then why didn’t you attempt it? Why didn’t she?”
“Because despite her claims that she prefers to work alone, she has been desperate for a partner for years. Miss Granger is not willing to risk anyone’s safety but her own and has a bad habit of not accepting help from anyone. Yet she was willing to accept help from you. I was not going to ruin that no matter how much she pleaded.”
Draco was shocked. He had never witnessed Snape so open and so concerned for someone else before. “You are protective of her.”
The potion master’s mouth thinned as if he had just now realized his slip-up and was annoyed with himself. Draco could see the occlumency going up in the older wizard’s dark eyes.
“Why?” Draco asked. “How did you two get so close? You hated her in Hogwarts, yet now you are willing to protect her, even from me?”
He did not answer. Just stood there looking almost bored.
What could have changed between them these past years?
Draco knew that Hermione had uncovered the truth of Dumbledore's death and brought Snape back into the Order. He knew that she trusted Snape with her life.
Had he saved Hermione at some point? Or was it reversed and she saved Snape's life?
That could explain the trust on Hermione’s part, but after knowing Snape all these years it had to be something more…
Draco thought of his path to trusting the witch and white-hot jealousy surged in his chest.
Had they been lovers?
Hermione had never said anything about it, but she had well established her ability to keep secrets.
Draco replayed all the memories of Snape’s visits these past months. The older wizard had asked him not to hurt her during the first visit, using his pardon as an excuse.
Had that been the real reason? Or was it to protect her?
Snape also revealed the relationship aspect of Draco’s fabricated betrayal. Looking back, that had been an odd piece of information to accidentally let slip.
Had that been out of jealousy?
Always an observant one, Snape had noticed every casual brush or touch between him and Hermione, and his dark eyes would go blank from occlumency. He could access her bedroom…
“You and Hermione were lovers, weren't you?” Draco could barely get the words out.
Snape looked surprised and then laughed. A full-bodied, loud laugh. Draco didn't ever think he witnessed his old mentor chuckle, let alone laugh like this.
It was very unsettling…
“Really Draco?” Snape said once he was recovered. “Have you lost your sanity? I have not, nor ever will, be interested in Miss Granger in such a way.”
The blonde couldn't help the relief that washed through him.
“Then why?” Draco demanded.
“Miss Granger has earned my respect and loyalty with her actions. She helped me in one of my lowest moments, and I returned the favor. Besides that, she has proven herself as a skilled witch and loyal ally over the years. I know you have noticed this for yourself,” he said with a pointed look. “She is also our best chance at ending this war once and for all. Every successful push against the Dark Lord these past 7 years has been her doing, either she had a hand in planning it or successfully completing the mission herself. The Order would have been lost long ago if not for her and her sacrifices.”
They were all good reasons, but Draco could tell that his mentor wasn’t telling the whole truth. They were all superficial motives and Snape was anything but superficial. The wizard wrapped himself in so many layers, that he was practically an onion.
“That is all the bullshit you feed to everyone else,” Draco accused. “Tell me the real reason you protect her.” If the potion master was surprised or angry at the acquisition, he didn’t show it.
Snape didn’t show much of anything…
For the first time, Draco really looked at his mentor and saw the fatigue in the set of his shoulders and the curve of his neck. Snape looked tired.
Draco wondered if the war was finally taking its toll…
“She reminds me of someone.”
The reply was so unexpected that he didn’t catch it.
“What?”
Snape took another deep breath. “She reminds me of someone I once knew. Someone I failed to protect.”
Draco’s heart was pounding. He never really expect a response, let alone the true one.
Was this someone the reason why the potion master switched sides during the first war?
“Who?” he asked carefully.
“Doesn’t matter. My penance is to protect Miss Granger whenever possible,” the older wizard said with a shake of his head before continuing with a meaningful look in his direction. “but there is little I can do to protect her from herself and the choices of her foolish heart.”
That diverted Draco’s attention and his heart started to pound. “What?”
“You truly haven't figured it out, have you?” Snape mumbled as he brought his hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You really are a blind imbecile.”
He couldn't possibly mean…
“Follow me then,” the potion master said with heavy annoyance as he moved to the door. “I cannot speak the details, but I can show you.”
Draco scrambled to his feet to follow him. Snape led him upstairs and through the first room on the left which appeared to be a study. There were more bookshelves neatly stacked with books, a desk, and a chair. On the desk sat a wide, shallow stone bowl. It had intricate designs and runes carved into the sides. In the middle swirled a cloudy white substance.
A pensieve…
Draco had never seen one in person before. His father had owned one, but it was kept in his study, which the younger wizard was not allowed in. It had likely been destroyed when the manor burned down.
Snape stood in front of the bowl and placed his wand tip at his temple. After a moment, he pulled it away and a thin silver thread followed. The ex-professor deposited the thread of thought into the pensieve, the contents flashed silver and swirled.
“Come,” Snape said as he stepped away.
Draco hesitated, suddenly nervous. “What will I see?”
“The full truth you’ve sought these past months.”
Heart pounding, the blond wizard squared his shoulders and stepped around the desk. Draco needed to know. He bent over, his nose almost touching the shimmering surface where he saw glimpses of Snape’s black robes and Hermione’s curly hair. After taking a deep breath, he broke the surface of the pensieve.
It pulled Draco down. Colors and shapes swirled around him, pulling the wizard deeper until everything settled around him. He stood in Snape’s potions room downstairs and Hermione stood beside thier old professor wearing a familiar muggle outfit.
This was the day of her capture. Likely only a couple of hours before Draco gleefully watched her get tortured, praying that he would get a turn. The memory made his stomach twist with shame and disgust.
“Mrs. Malfoy is safe in Theo’s care?” she asked, studying the bottles he handed her. It was Theo’s Cruciatus potion.
“Yes. I delivered her into his hands myself, the pardon contract was signed before I returned here and everything is in place.” He eyed the curly-haired witch with a mysterious look that Draco couldn't place.
Was it consideration? Admiration? Trepidation?
“I have to ask for a final time, Miss Granger. Are you prepared to do this?”
Hermione let out an exasperated sigh as she shoved the bottles into her pocket. “And as I’ve said every time you’ve asked… yes.”
“You could di—“
“I’m well aware of the risks,” she interrupted Snape.
Surprisingly, he didn't glare at the witch. It was clearly a conversation they had many times.
“I hope that everything goes as planned, but if it doesn’t, then at least my death will do some good. Besides, it’s not like anyone will miss me. My parents are gone, and Harry and Ron hate me. Everyone else in the Order no longer trusts me.” She wipes away the tears before continuing. “In a way, this would be my final gift to them all. They will be able to see the end of this war while not getting their hands dirty.”
“They do not deserve your loyalty or friendship,” Snape murmured. Hermione just smiled sadly but said nothing.
The silence stretched on.
“I have one last request, professor.”
Draco watched his dark head lower in a silent invitation to continue.
“Whether or not I survive, I need you to promise to never speak of this to Draco. He must never know that I’m behind the plan or the motivation behind it.”
“As you have yet to inform me of your reasoning behind any of this when it pertains to Draco, that will not be a hard promise to keep.”
“Really?”Hermione raised an eyebrow at Snape, who answered with an impatient look of his own. “You are pretending like you haven't already deduced my reason on your own?”
Snape’s silence continued, the look of ‘how long are you going to make me wait?’ clear on his face.
“Are you going to make me say it out loud?” she asked once she realized she couldn't win against the older wizard in a competition of condescending looks.
It was several long minutes before she said anything and her voice was so quiet that he almost missed the declaration.
“Because I love him…”
Draco’s breath escaped his lungs like it had been summoned by the witch standing before him and any words that followed were drowned out by the pounding in his ears.
How!?!
This was before the escape! Before their time together in the cabin, and well before thier partnership. At this point in time, Draco was nothing more than her enemy and school bully.
How could she love him?
He had done nothing to deserve it…
Snape’s words caught Draco’s attention. “Would it be such a bad thing for him to know the truth and the extent you would go to save his life?”
“Why would it matter?” Hermione’s tone was desperate and pained. “He hates me. Always has. Always will. For so many reasons. I am muggle-born. I humiliated him in school by besting him in every subject. I am the reason for his father’s death, his mother's condition, and the loss of his home. The reason he was sent abroad and suffered unimaginable pain for 7 years. Nothing will change that.” The tears flowed freely now.“Giving him the best chance at a life after the end of this war is the least I can do.”
Then she smirked.
“Taking down Voldemort’s entire organization and killing some Death Eaters is just a bonus.”
The smirk only lasted a moment, before she gave Snape a pleading look.
“That is why you must make sure Draco gets out, no matter what. It is essential for the Order to get his intel. That is the only way he gets a pardon. And if Shacklebolt tries to pull his usual game, shift to plan B and get the Malfoys out of the country.”
She eyed the potion master expectantly until Snape produced his wand.
“I, Severus Snape, swear on my magic, that I will get Draco out and never speak of the origin of the plan or its true intent, no matter the outcome.”
She looked relieved. “Thank you, Professor.”
“After everything we've done these past 6 years, I think it’s acceptable for you to call me Severus.” Then the ex-professor’s brows furrowed before he added, “at least in private.”
“Thank you, Severus,” Hermione said with a pleased but sad smile.
“For the record, Miss Granger, there are still a few that would miss you if you’re gone,” Snape said with that unreadable expression again.
“I think you can return the favor and call me Hermione,” she said teasing.
The stoic wizard actually looked uncomfortable.
“Good luck, Hermione,” he said softly. “Do try your best to not get yourself killed.”
“I make my own luck, and it will take more than a crazed, immortal-obsessed dark wizard to kill me...”
The memory started to swirl around Draco before resetting to the beginning, Snape and Hermione's words repeated. He watched it three more times and each time he heard her say those three words, his mind spun.
Hermione loved him…
Him!!!
How was that possible?!
Draco pulled his head out of the pensieve to find Snape watched him intently.
“It was all to save me?”
Snape’s lips tightened, but he gave a small nod.
“Because she loves me?”
Again he nods.
“How? Why?”
“Those are questions only Miss Granger can answer,” Snape replied. “That is the only time we broached the subject. As you witnessed, she only admitted to the affection, not the origin of it.”
Draco’s head continued to spin as he tried to make it make sense.
“Why did you show me this?” He asked the potions master.
“I swore not to speak on the matter with you. Miss Granger never requested I not show you,” Snape smirked.
“Despite everything she has been through, she’s still too trusting of her friend’s words,” Draco said. “I saw through your deception right away, but you know that is not what I’m asking you.”
His old mentor bristled uncomfortably.
“Maybe I’ve become a bit of a romantic in my old age,” he admitted reluctantly.
Notes:
The number of ways Severus calls Draco an idiot in this chapter is just… chefs kiss 😘😂
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 25: Hermione Ch 25
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 25
Draco paced just over the border of the property line, the cabin visible through the trees.
After altering his entire reality yet again by showing him the memory, Snape proceeded to shove another hangover potion in Draco’s hand and kicked him out. Just before the potion master shut the door in the blonde wizard’s face, he said he didn't have time to babysit and Draco should take responsibility for the mess he's in.
He drank the potion, his headache faded completely and then he disapparated to the forest surrounding the property. The fact Draco could see the cabin beyond the border was a good sign that she had not changed the wardings. But he was not ready for this confrontation, still trying to comprehend the bomb Snape dropped on him less than half an hour ago.
Hermione Granger was in love with Draco and apparently had been for quite some time.
Bloody hell, but it did not make sense.
He circled the property line, careful to not step too close and notify the witch of his presence as a warming charm kept the morning chill at bay.
If Hermione had confessed her feelings now, that would make sense. After everything that happened between them these past months even he was willing to admit to the growing affection between them. But when she planned all this, Hermione hadn't seen Draco for almost 8 years.
This meant it started for her sometime during Hogwarts…
How?
Draco had been a complete prat and bully all through school. He almost killed 2 of her friends during their 6th year.
It wasn't possible for her to love him then…
He stopped and stared at the cabin. Not for the first time the desire to use legilimency to get into Hermione’s head and figure her out washed over him.
Why was she so bloody good at everything?
Draco started pacing again.
Maybe it was all an act and pretending to be in love was all just part of her plan all along…
But there is no way she could trick both Theo and Snape. Draco was fairly certain that Theo knew the motive behind Hermione’s actions. His remarks as they left Mother’s safe house were proof his old friend suspected something was between them.
The two Slytherins would have never gone along with all of this if they didn't trust and believe the witch.
Draco replayed every interaction from school but there was nothing. No private moment of connection to trigger such affection. Just harsh words and sneers.
So he went over everything since the escape. Her pleading screams as the Dark Lord tortured him, the lingering looks, and the mysterious emotion Draco often saw in her eyes. There was the undeniable tension between them, the gifts of spelled armor and her admittance before the mission that she wanted to protect him. The fact that she ran into Fiendfyre for the sake of his pardon.
These couldn't be faked. It was all real. It was all proof of the truth.
Hermione loved him…
It may not make sense to Draco, but it's a fact. And the only way he'll get answers as to how and when was from the witch herself. Draco stepped over the rock border and slipped through the wards with no resistance.
Hermione hadn't tried to keep him out…
A brisk walk and he was at the patio door. No sign of her yet, though the wards should have notified her of his arrival. Draco slid open the door and stepped in from the cold.
A fire burned bright in the fireplace. Hermione lay sleeping, curled up in his blanket on their couch. Draco turned to close the door quietly, trying to not disturb her. He was successful but as he took a step the old wood floor creaked loudly.
Hermione startled awake, her wand pointed at him. Draco held his hands up as she tried to focus. She immediately dropped it when she realized who it was.
“You’re back,” she whispered, her voice slightly hoarse.
Draco nodded his head, suddenly feeling very awkward in her presence. He had charged in here intent on getting answers but now had no idea how to broach the subject or how it would change things between them. He avoided her gaze as she studied him.
“You need to gather your things then,” she said sharply as she stood. Hermione unwrapped the blanket, revealing the grey shirt and her usual sleep pants before dumping it on the bed. “I will get out of your way.”
Then she darted towards her bedroom.
This bloody witch wasn’t running away this time…
Draco caught her by the wrist before she could reach the door and she stiffened, keeping her back towards him.
“Please, Draco, let me go,” she breathed, her voice thick. “I can’t watch as you leave for good this time.”
His heart clenched painfully in his chest.
“Who said I was leaving,” was his whispered reply as he stepped closer.
Hermione whirled around, tears already streaming down her face. “Don’t play games with me, Draco. You know everything now. I lied to you, I manipulated you and I used you. Why would you want to stay?.”
“I know that you got my mother to safety,” he reasoned, meeting her honey-brown eyes and moved closer. She stepped back.
“I know you did it to protect me.”
Another step closer as she stepped back.
“I know you did it so I could have a future.”
Another step and her back hit the door, but she didn't reach for the handle. Her eyes were wide, searching his face.
“I know you did it because you love me,” Draco growled as he took the last step.
Her mouth fell open in shock and he bent down to claim it in a bruising kiss, swallowing her squeak of surprise. Hermione hesitated for only a moment before melting into it. Draco cupped her face, brushing away the tears with his thumbs and angling her head so he could deepen the kiss. She tasted of her usual toothpaste mixed with salty tears.
His least favorite combination to date…
Draco swore then and there to do everything in his power to never taste the combination again.
Her hands were everywhere. First in his hair, then touching his face, and his chest, and then yanking at his shirt. Draco felt her hot palms press into the bare flesh of his back.
They broke apart, gasping for breath. Draco could only bear a second of separation before fisting his hands in her curls and pulling her head back. He kissed down her cheek, over the corner of her jaw to her ear, where he sucked and nibbled at the tender flesh just below, intent on marking her.
“Who told you?” she panted.
Draco growled his displeasure at being distracted from his current task. Couldn't they discuss this later?
“Snape?” the witch asked.
“The only wizard’s name that should be on your lips right now is mine,” he snarled as he moved to suck on her earlobe.
Hermione chuckled.
“How?” she breathed.
Merlin! Why is she so insistent on having this conversation now?
“Pensieve,” Draco grumbled before returning to mark Hermione’s neck, hopeful that his answer would satisfy the witch enough to get her back on the task at hand.
Fucking each other to exhaustion…
“Sneaky bastard.”
Draco pulled back in surprise to witness the playful smirk on her lips.
“I'm going to tell him you called him that,” he threatened with a grin.
Hermione giggled, the sound making his heart glad and Draco bent to kiss her again, but she pressed a finger to his lips.
“As much as I would enjoy you fucking me against this door, it's not quite as sturdy as the walls and I think there are some things we should discuss first,” she reasoned.
He groaned but knew she was right. They needed to clear the air. Draco gave a little nip to the finger pressed against his lips as he reluctantly pulled away.
“To our couch?” he asked as he stepped back in that direction but stopped when he saw the thoughtful look in Hermione’s eye.
“I had a different venue in mind,” she said as she turned the knob of her bedroom door and held it open for him.
“Am I being granted access to your forbidden realm?” Draco asked as he moved closer.
Hermione made a face. “My… what?” she said tightly.
Confused, he repeated himself.
The second time she burst out laughing. After a few minutes of her chuckling and Draco growing more annoyed by the moment, she finally spoke.
“Yes, Draco. I'm granting you full access to my forbidden realm. In more ways than one.”
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 26: Hermione Ch 26
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 26
Hermione summoned a vial of her throat-soothing potion before closing the door behind them and Draco took the opportunity to look around. The last time he had been in here, it had first been too dark to see, and then he was quickly banished the next morning. It was bigger than expected.
Probably an expansion charm…
The most notable feature was the floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on the left wall. Bigger than the one in the main room, they were packed with books. Hermione had the head of the bed pressed right against the shelves with no headboard. Beside it were several stacks of books, all within arms reach. No nightstand.
There had to be hundreds of books in this room.
Of course, Hermione would sleep in what basically amounted to a library…
On the right side of the room was a big chest of drawers with a mirror. The top of the dresser was littered with knickknacks, notes, and more books. Beside it was a slim wood armoire, the bathroom door, and her overstuffed chair in the corner.
Right in front of Draco was a big bay window with a window seat almost as big as the bed, and filled with fluffy pillows. He didn't know how he missed that last time.
Hermione walked around him and caught the confusion on his face.
“The window is a new addition. You had taken residence in my old reading spot so I needed a new one,” she commented with a sly look.
“I'm sorry that my stay has been such an inconvenience,” Draco said with a smirk.
“You should be,” she replied with a grin of her own.
How glorious would she be sprawled across the pillows of the window seat as Draco worshipped her body?
Fuck he wanted her…
Hermione, seeing the shift in his eyes, licked her lips. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.
“I’m tired of the secrets,” she whispered.
That got Draco’s attention.
Hermione stepped to the dresser.
“I can't tell you everything. Many of the secrets I keep are not mine to tell. But I want to be honest about anything pertaining to us.”
From one of the drawers, she removed a wooden box and turned to face him.
Draco recognized the box as the one on the table in her mental library and he was suddenly nervous to see its contents.
Without a word, the curly-haired witch moved to the window seat and sat down, motioning for him to join her. Draco sat next to her, their knees almost touching.
“I lied when I said I never used the more traditional occlumency practice. When I first started, this was the first container I attempted. Then I realized the flaws and started developing my own technique. But I still found it helpful at the moment when one needs to suppress emotions and stay in control. And I kept defaulting to this box. It was a gift from my mother…”
Hermione was nervous. Knowing her, if he didn't interrupt she would go on a whole tangent of its origins, how it was made, and its long history before getting to the point.
“What’s in the box, Hermione?” Draco asked softly.
She paused, her mouth hung open for a moment before she swallowed.
“This is where I've kept my oldest secret,” she whispered.
She opened the lid and held it out to him and Draco leaned forward to examine the contents. He was surprised to see it mostly empty, with only a few odd items. A crumbled page, an old quill, and a Quidditch World Cup ticket. He reached for the parchment first, flattening out the familiar page on basilisks, and nearly dropped it.
She knew what he had done. What his family had done.
“How?” Draco asked.
“I saw you that day in the library when you tucked that in between the pages of one of my books. I was just in the other aisle when I noticed you sneak up to my table all twitchy and nervous. I watched you through the shelf, thinking you were going to mess with my stuff, but you left right after.”
She met his gaze. “Imagine my surprise to find the exact information I was scouring the library for when I investigated. That was the day I realized that you weren't everything you pretended to be. That despite your words and the posturing, you couldn't stand to see your fellow classmates get hurt.”
Confronted with the evidence, Draco was overwhelmed with the need to confess. To finally tell someone the truth of his oldest secret.
“I didn't know what my father planned to set in motion that year,” he admitted. “I was just as surprised as everyone when it all started happening. The bravado was all for show. Father kept requesting constant updates on the heir of Slytherin and what Dumbledore was doing about it. Said he wanted to make sure the headmaster was handling it properly. When I told him in a letter that I was starting to worry that something could happen to me or my friends, he wrote back that Salazar’s pet would never harm us. The pet part triggered a memory of an old Malfoy memoir I found in our library. It was from an old ancestor of mine who wished to curry favor with the Hogwarts founder for his children and so gifted Salazar a basilisk egg in hopes that it would become a favorite pet. Then it all made sense.”
Draco shook his head at the memory of those days and the anxiety that plagued him.
“I had been warring with myself for days on whether or not I should tell a teacher or even the headmaster. On one hand, I didn't want anyone to die but on the other, I didn't want to be responsible for getting my father in trouble. Then I overheard you talking to Potter and Weasley about trying to discover the identity of the monster. So I left it for you knowing you would puzzle it out.”
He studied the page, his finger rubbing the word written in the margin. “It seemed you did figure it out but then got petrified, and I was too terrified to say anything. I’m sorry.”
She placed her hand over his. “You saved my life, Draco. Without this, I would have walked around the corner, looked that monster straight in the eyes, and died.”
Draco nodded his head in acknowledgment, though still not fully believing her. Hermione was clever. She would have figured it out herself.
“Since you knew it was me, why didn't you say anything?” he asked.
“It was clear you didn't want your involvement known. I respected your wish to be anonymous,” she answered.
He returned the paper to the box and picked up the most curious item, the Quidditch cup ticket while lifting an eyebrow at her. “And this?”
Hermione laughed.
“You had gone through quite a growth spurt between 3rd and 4th year,” she admitted with a blush. “That day in the sky box it took all my self-control to not stare at you the entire time. It was the first time I realized I was attracted to you.”
“Really?” The fact that she had noticed him even back then sparked his old vanity, but Draco had to tease her. “But I was awful to you!”
“I know! I was so angry with myself but I couldn't control the attraction. And believe me. I tried.” Her eyes grew distant before she continued. “That night, when we ran into you in the woods you commented for me to keep my bushy head down. Everyone else thought you were threatening me, but I saw it for what it really was. You were truly warning me. You were in some small way, concerned for my well-being. I think that's when the crush started.”
Draco swallowed. She had been right. Though he had not actively sought her out, when he ran into them an odd worry for her safety had struck him, just like in 2nd year. But he was with Crabbe and Goyle so the only thing he could think to do was goad her idiot friends into getting her as far away as possible and protecting her. He had brushed it off as simple concern for a fellow student.
Now he was beginning to question if that was all it was…
“You, Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of our age, had a crush on me?!” Draco taunted, returning to a safer topic.
She swatted at his arm. “Stop! It was awful because not only was I dealing with my confusing feelings for you, but I was also dealing with a small crush on Ron while he was acting like a royal prat all year. This made me question my own sanity because how could I be attracted to the two biggest asses in our school. Add the awful articles from the vile Skeeter woman and helping Harry with his challenges, I was an absolute wreck that year.”
“Don't forget about Krum,” he said poking her.
She made a face. “I actually didn't even really like him. I went to the Yule Ball with him because he was the first person to ask and to make Ron jealous. His attention was nice at first, but we could barely communicate.”
“Hmm,” Draco hummed as he replaced the ticket before pulling out the final item. He realized it wasn't just any old quill, but one of his from school. How did she get this?
“And this?”
Hermione eyed it as he rolled it in his fingers, the tip fluttering in a circle.
“That is from 6th year. I had taken to spending all my time in the library because I couldn't stomach Ron and Lavender’s constant displays of affection in the common room. Even though it made me realize that Ron could never be the wizard for me and helped me get past my feelings for him, it still hurt to watch him be like that with someone else.”
She continued to watch the feather dance in his hand.
“It was late one night in January. I was working on some homework when my quill broke. I dug through my bag to find a replacement but had none. It was such a simple thing and not worth crying over, but it was a little problem on a pile of many. Ron was being awful, Harry was being stubborn, and there was news of Death Eater attacks and Katie Bell’s a couple of months ago all while worrying about my parents. That simple little thing broke me and I started crying. Then you were there.”
Draco looked at her in surprise.
“You probably don't even remember, you looked dead on your feet. I thought you were there to kick me while I was down, but instead, you offered me your handkerchief.” She put the box aside and pulled said handkerchief out of her pocket. “It was the most gentlemanly thing anyone has ever done for me. Then you said ‘he’s not worth your tears, Granger,’ handed me a fresh quill from your bag and walked away without another word.”
Her words triggered something in his memory of Hermione hunched over a book, her tears soaking into the page but it was distorted and foggy from the anxiety and exhaustion, like the majority of his memories from the 6th year.
She met his eyes. “It was the first nice thing you had ever said to me and the first time you called me Granger. My old crush flared to life and I couldn't help but watch you. You were so handsome and elegant, leagues away from the rough and rude Ronald that had played with my heart.”
She started twisting the handkerchief in her hand.
“I started to see the troubles in your face and some part of me was drawn to it. Then I accidentally overheard you talking to Myrtle once. Neither of you knew I was in the washroom and I felt awful for eavesdropping but couldn't leave without you noticing. I heard your concern for failing a mission and your fear for your family and friends. It echoed my own fears and broke my heart. I wanted to take your pain away, to be a comfort to you. But I knew you would never accept such affection from someone like me.”
She took a deep breath and rage flashed across her face.
“I went to Dumbledore with my concerns. He said he was aware of your situation and had it all under control. He promised no harm would come to you, and I trusted him so I let it be. Little did I know what he considered ‘under control.’”
“You don't seem to be the biggest supporter of Dumbledore,” Draco commented, voicing his observation aloud. It wasn't the first time she’d made such a comment.
“He was supposed to be a genius wizard, yet all he made was pointless unresponsible mistakes,” she hissed. “How could he expect three teenagers to accomplish what grown adults couldn't achieve? With next to no information? How could he have allowed you to suffer through everything in 6th year and put other students at risk when he knew exactly what was going on?”
Hermione closed her eyes again and he saw the rage drain from her face as she took another deep breath.
“We were children,” she said after a moment, her tone flat. “We should have been protected by the adults in our lives, not used as pawns in their war.”
Draco was inclined to agree but this was not the point of their current conversation. This was about them and not the dead old man who ruined their lives.
He put the feather back in the box, closed the lid, and took Hermione’s trembling hands in his own. She still held the handkerchief, her thumb rubbing over the embroidered ‘DM.’
“So,” Draco started as he brought her hand to his mouth, softly kissing her knuckles. “One little gentlemanly act and you fell head over heels for me?”
He turned her hand, exposing her wrist, and planted another kiss at her pulse point.
“N—no,” she replied, her voice husky.
“Then when?”
Draco wanted to know the exact moment Hermione Granger’s heart became his.
“I don't— oh.”
He suck on the delicate skin, her pulse quickening against his lips.
“I don't know when it happened exactly,” she panted her eyes wide. “But I can tell you when I realized it.”
Draco nipped her wrist and she gasped. Then, with a satisfied smirk, he straightened.
“It was the day Harry attacked you in the bathroom,” she said softly and his heart started pounding.
It was not a fond memory of his…
“When I heard the news I was in the hallways and Moaning Myrtle came screaming through the walls that Draco Malfoy was dead. Killed by Harry Potter. The whole world slowed to a stop. My heart was pounding, I couldn't think, I couldn't breathe. All I could think was that it can't be true, you can't be dead.”
She clutched his hand as if to reassure herself that Draco was still there.
“I suddenly understood why people would throw themselves into the graves of loved ones. I wanted to fall to my knees right then and there. To scream my pain for everyone to hear. The strength of my despair took me completely off guard. Then Professor Snape turned the corner with you in tow, rushing to get to the hospital wing. On instinct I started to trail behind you, to check that you were alright. There was so much blood. But the professor snapped at me to back off. It shocked me back to reality. I couldn't go with you. We weren't friends or even acquaintances. Everything I felt was one-sided.”
She tried to pull her hand away to wipe away the tears. Instead, Draco reached over and brushed them away himself. He knew he should confess the truth and tell this infuriating witch that she had claimed his heart, but he couldn't. He couldn't say the words to her when he couldn't even say them aloud to himself.
Draco was a coward…
So he tried to communicate wordlessly that it wasn't one-sided. Not anymore.
“I rushed to find Harry, to get the truth out of him,” she continued. “When he admitted to what he did, I was livid. I tore into him, though I couldn't be honest as to why I was so angry. The rest of the group thought I was going overboard and that I'd lost my mind.”
“‘Yes,’ they said. ‘Harry did something bad, but he was defending himself and thanks to Snape, Malfoy will be okay.’”
She balled her fists in his hands and her jaw tensed.
“I had to walk away from them, I was so angry. I tried to go to bed, but I couldn't sleep without seeing for myself that you were ok. So I broke into the boy’s dormitory and stole Harry’s invisibility cloak. Then I snuck into the hospital wing and sat with you most of the night. You were so peaceful while you slept and as I watched you, I remembered something from my childhood.”
Her eyes grew distant.
“My dad got really sick when I was 9 years old. The doctor— muggle healers— thought it was very serious. He had to stay in the hospital for a couple of days. My mum stayed home with me because there was no one else. She would pace around the house cleaning things and trying to keep busy.”
So Hermione had inherited her anxious habit from her mother…
“Even at a young age, I could tell she was worried. The day the hospital released him and we brought Dad home, I woke up late that night and found her standing at the door of the guest room where my dad was sleeping. She had such a look of relief and love on her face, that I couldn't help but ask her what she was doing. I'll never forget what she said to me that night...”
She looked out the window as she spoke the next words.
“‘Hermione, my dear,’ she said. ‘You are still very young, but one day, if you are lucky, you will find someone special and fall in love. When you find that person, their happiness and health will become your whole world. Your heart will only be settled when you are together.’”
Her voice became so soft that Draco had to lean forward to hear her next words.
“I tried to get her to explain what she meant by my heart would be settled. She only replied that I would understand one day. As I sat there watching you sleep, fighting the desire to brush your hair back from your forehead—”
She turned back to him, reaching out her hand and doing exactly that, her eyes soft.
“I understood her words. For the first time in my life, my heart felt whole and content from just sitting at your bedside, despite the fact that my brain was in overdrive. That was when I realized I had somehow fallen in love with you.”
Her eyes met his.
“And I was terrified.” she breathed.
Her words hung heavy between them. She didn't need to explain why because he was experiencing the same terror now.
Back then the major obstacles were their different upbringings, the fact that he was taught to hate her kind, and the disapproval of friends and families. But now the obstacles are infinitely worse. A war that they were on the frontlines of, the real possibility of death hanging over their heads, and the fact that he was a war criminal and she was a war hero.
The chances of them lasting past the war were minuscule. But now that he had experienced what it was like to have Hermione Granger in his life, Draco didn't want to live without her.
Hermione continued with her story.
“Then everything happened at the end of 6th year with your role in Dumbledore’s death and Snape’s perceived betrayal. Add the act of altering my parents' memories to forget they ever had a daughter—“
Wait… she did what!?!
Draco wanted to ask her to clarify but Hermione was still talking and he couldn’t bring himself to interrupt.
“—It broke something inside me. I don’t know how I got through the next year, with all the stress of the Horcrux hunt coupled with being on the run. I used my occlumency box quite a lot to try to get through it,” She admitted. “It became a crutch. I shoved in every unwanted emotion that I couldn’t deal with and locked it away. My love for you, my despair over my parents, the anxiety of our situation, and the feelings of inadequacies.”
“It got to the point that I became almost a zombie, I had locked so much of myself away. It was the only way I could function. The only way I could forget you. But it didn’t work.”
She started to twist the handkerchief again.
“My relationship with Ron was the second step in trying to forget you. I hoped that letting myself care for someone else would erase you in my heart, but we were not suited for each other and my emotions were so boxed up at that point that I couldn’t let anyone in. It was a messy breakup that marked the beginning of the end for more than one friendship.”
She released a heavy sigh.
“I threw myself into Order business for the distraction and to keep busy. Then 5 years ago something happened that not only broke my occlumency box, it shattered it into a million pieces. I was forced to confront every suppressed emotion and thought in the midst of another trauma. It was a sobering experience…”
As someone who had recently experienced that exact situation and relearned how to deal with the influx of emotions, Draco understood all too well how overwhelming it was.
“I had to accept that my great love, which was thoroughly impossible and tragically one-sided, would likely always be part of me and I had to learn to live with it.”
Hermione looked up and her gaze softened with the previously mysterious emotion that he could now name. She gently cupped Draco’s face with one hand, brushing her thumb across his cheek.
“Fate certainly likes to play her games.” She said wistfully.
Draco lowered his chin and kissed her palm, which brought a small smile to her lips.
“I kept requesting updates of your whereabouts in Snape’s briefings and I think that was his first clue to what was in my heart. He kept me apprised of all news pertaining to you even after my official break from the Order. When he reported that Tom had recalled you back to the country, I knew I had to do something to get you out of his grasp with a chance at a future after the war.”
She took a deep breath and hesitated for a moment as fear flashed across her eyes.
“I came up with the plan to trick Tom into believing you were a spy, but thanks to Snape’s intel on his superior legilimency skills, I knew planting fake thoughts wouldn’t be enough. It had to be something drastic in order for him to believe it. I decided to volunteer myself and use my love for you to trick him into believing there was a secret relationship spanning years. Tom does not understand love, but he believes he does. It was the only way the mission could be successful—“
“How did you trick the Dark Lord?” Draco finally interrupted, asking the question that had plagued him for months. “It’s impossible to plant fake memories in our own minds and Snape swears he didn’t plant yours.”
Hermione blushed as she answered. “I didn’t show him fake memories, I showed him a decade's worth of daydreams.”
“Daydreams?!?” he asked completely surprised.
She nodded her head.
“I have always had a very active imagination. Because of that, I’ve always had vivid daydreams and it is one of my favorite pastimes. I used to drift off, especially during divination, and think up different scenarios where we would meet and fall in love, or what I could have done differently during 6th year to change your fate. After Snape told me about the horrors of your studies abroad, I would dream about finding you and rescuing you.” She admitted with a sad smile.
“When I stood before Tom and he entered my mind, I flooded him with a specially curated selection of my daydreams. It was enough to convince him.”
Daydreams… Fucking daydreams were enough to fool the Dark Lord…
This bloody witc—
“I’m so sorry!” Hermione blurted out, tears streaming down her face. “I didn’t want you to suffer more than necessary, but I couldn’t think of any other way to get you out of his influence. The plan was to escape together, get you to headquarters to give enough information to earn your pardon, then settle you in with your mother to wait out the end of the war. We were never supposed to live together, to become whatever we’ve become, but I couldn’t stay away from you! I tried, I swear I really tried. And then Shacklebolt forced you into the Horcrux hunt. I was fully prepared to get you out of the country. I never thought you would agree to help, but when you—
Draco silence her ramblings with a finger pressed to her lips.
“Can I see them?” he asked softly.
Hermione blinked in confusion. “See what?”
“What you showed the Dark Lord,” he answered, his voice barely a whisper. “The daydreams that convinced him of our decade-long love affair.”
Hermione’s mouth fell open.
“Y—yeah,” she said after a few moments. “Use legilimency and I’ll show them to you.”
Draco nodded and cupped her face with his hands, holding her in place. He looked deep into her eyes, glassy with tears, detached that part of his consciousness, and allowed himself to fall into her golden depths.
This time the flood of images was slow. This wasn't one of their lessons and Hermione wasn’t trying to overwhelm him.
It started with sidelong looks between 4th year Draco and Hermione in the Hogwarts library. Then there was a switching of partners at the Yule Ball that resulted in a brief dance and the first touch of skin. That escalated to lingering touches while passing supplies in classes accompanied by longing glances and short greetings in the hall. Late-night study sessions in the library soon followed after getting ‘stuck’ at the same table.
There were many conversations on books and class subjects. Even a scene where 5th year Draco tried to explain quidditch to 5th year Hermione.
The first kiss happened in a dark corner of the library, with only the old dusty tomes as witnesses. The scenes after were much more physical and hormone-driven. Rendezvous in broom closets, in empty classrooms, and even under the quidditch stands.
This was how a love story should start… with interest and innocence. In another world, one without prejudice, this could have been them.
This should have been them…
The scenes shifted tone with the start of 6th year. Lots of arguments and tension as 6th year Draco tried to push 6th year Hermione away in order to protect her. The night of his attack was the most prominent memory, with 6th year Draco waking in the middle of the night to find Hermione at his bedside, followed by a heartfelt confession and a promise from both young lovers to stand by each other.
The scenes grew shorter as he watched the beginning years of the war. Most of the memories were of notes with reminders of devotion accompanied by Death Eater secrets written in Draco’s distinct handwriting.
How did Hermione know his penmanship so well?
Very rarely was there a secret meet-up in what appeared to be different hotel rooms across Europe, where the two long-separated lovers found solace in each other's arms.
There were hundreds of memories of love and devotion. It was a love story worthy of being in one of his mother’s old witch romance novels and he did not expect the emotions the daydreams wrung out of him.
Draco wanted it to be true…
Wanted it with every fiber of his being. To have found Hermione long ago and have her at his side through all the trials and dark times.
To not be alone…
He wanted it desperately, would spend the entirety of the Malfoy wealth, or trade his soul to any devil to make it true.
They could have had so much time…
But life didn’t work like that. Even with magic and time turners, going back wasn’t an option. Even if it was, there was no guarantee that they would end up together.
But Hermione was here now. Loved him now. She had done so much and sacrificed even more to protect Draco and offer him a chance at a future.
He leaned forward.
Draco would take whatever she would give, for as long as she was willing to give it, and never stop trying his best to be worthy.
“I will stay by your side for as long as you will have me. Partner, lover, whatever you wish, I am yours,” he swore.
Then Draco kissed his witch.
Notes:
Who wants boring old ily when you can have a declaration like that!
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 27: Hermione Ch 27
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 27
Hermione climbed into his lap, deepening the kiss. Draco held her to him, savoring the feel of his witch in his arms again. He felt like a starved man finally given a meal after weeks of hunger. Their touches since she had been injured had only been simple caresses of comfort and affection. He purposely kept her at arm's length so that her body could properly recover.
Draco was more than ready to indulge in their favorite pastime and based on Hermione’s enthusiasm while sucking and biting his bottom lip, it was safe to assume she was too.
Her hands made quick work of yanking his armored shirt out of his trousers. They separated as she eagerly pulled it over Draco’s head and threw it to the side where it landed with a loud thud. He was grateful for her gift and its unparalleled protection, but Merlin was it heavy.
Hermione shoved Draco back against the pillows of the window seat as she eyed him hungrily, circling her hips against his already throbbing cock. A groan escaped his lips as she repeated the action and her nails lightly scratched his lower abdomen, sending delicious shivers through his body. He shifted his hips up, rubbing against her cloth-covered core.
Draco wanted her bare, her glorious tight cunt riding him like the first time, but Hermione’s expression had changed. Instead of needy, it was thoughtful as she studied his chest, her fingers lightly tracing the sectumsempra scar.
“I never realized,” she started softly. “But we have matching scars.”
Said scar was long and jagged, spanning from his right shoulder, across his chest, and down to his left side. It was an unsightly thing.
And for her to supposedly have a matching one…
Draco's heart started pounding for a different reason.
Hermione met his gaze, a look of resolution in her golden depths. Her jaw tensed as she sat up straighter and her fingers grasped the hem of her shirt. He realized her intentions just in time to catch her hands.
“You don't have to,” Draco breathed. “I think you are just as sexy with the shirt on. You don't have to push yourself.”
The memory of her episode the last time was fresh in his mind. He would not be the cause of more tears.
“I want you to see all of me,” she said with such determination, her eyes mirrored her conviction.
Draco released her hands.
His witch clamored off his lap, took a deep breath before she mumbled something under her breath, and with trembling fingers lifted the grey fabric. Draco sucked in a breath as her bare skin was revealed.
Hermione stood before him, naked from the waist up. The two most obvious things, which he had been waiting for months to see and touch, were not what immediately drew his attention.
Her belly, chest, and shoulders were peppered with scars. Some were patches of rippled and pitted flesh. Many were the jagged slashes of dark curses, the biggest amongst them spanning from her right shoulder, down between her breasts, and ending right under her ribcage on the left side. Some were faded white with age compared to the scars on her hands, still pink and shiny with newly healed skin.
The sheer volume and placement were horrifying. Everyone had been made with a clear intent of maximizing pain.
How was this witch still alive?
But what really took Draco by surprise were the splashes of colored ink amongst the oldest scars. Skillful depictions of flowers, plants, birds, and butterflies. The long slash, which appeared to be the oldest based on color, had been incorporated as the stem of an ivy plant with beautifully inked ivy leaves. He saw sprigs of lavender and rosemary, rose bushes, forget-me-nots and so much more.
The result was both disturbing and awe-inspiring…
Hermione had taken the pain of her past and turned it into a garden.
Draco sat up, lifting her arms to get a better look at the whole picture. She twisted to allow him a view of the scene that continued onto her back.
Just when Draco thought he couldn't be any more impressed by this witch, she surprised him with this. He lowered Hermione’s arms and brought a finger to her skin, just short of touching her. He met her gaze, asking silently for permission and she nodded her head.
“Who did these?” he asked as his finger brushed across the patch of forget-me-nots on her side.
“Charlie Weasley.”
“He’s very talented.”
“Yes,” she said sadly. “He was.”
Was…
“When did he?”
“2 years ago.”
“And that's why some scars are blank?”
She nodded her head. “It didn't feel right to let someone else complete his work.”
Makes sense…
“Was the garden his idea?” Draco asked as he continued to study the skillfully drawn images inked into her skin.
“It was mine actually,” she replied. “I was inspired by Sirius.”
He looked up in surprise. “Sirius Black?”
Hermione nodded her head.
“Did you know he was Harry’s godfather?”
That sounded vaguely familiar, so Draco nodded his head in reply.
“He was covered in tattoos. Both muggle and magical and I was fascinated by them,” Hermione explained. “I stayed in Grimmauld place for a short time after 4th year and Sirius caught me staring at dinner. That night he offered me a closer look at the ones on his arm. I jumped at the opportunity to study them. That was when I noticed the scars incorporated into the tattoos.”
Draco traced the petals of a black rose as she spoke, the raised edges of an old burn scar at the heart of the flower.
“Sirius noticed right away when my fascination turned to horror and he explained that the scars were a result of abuse from his mother, Walburga. She was a horrid woman, who delighted in punishing Sirius for the smallest transgressions and she made a point to make sure it left a mark every time because it would be a visual reminder of the lesson.”
“But Sirius refused to let her have that kind of power over him. He turned every mark into a piece of art that reflected his true self. He owned his trauma and turned it into something beautiful. I thought it was inspired.”
Hermione’s eyes were sad and distant, a look he recognized from any time she thought of her past. Especially if she was thinking of someone gone. Draco was suddenly and unexpectedly sad that he never had the chance to know his cousin.
“When my scars started to accumulate,” she continued. “I enlisted Charlie’s assistance. He started tattooing as a hobby before the war.”
“Hmmm,” he hummed as his fingers trailed over the bottom of the ivy stem.
“Who did this?”
Draco didn't mean the tattoo…
“Dolohov in the Department of Mysteries, 5th year.”
And just like that, Dolohov was at the top of his kill list.
Draco's fingers brushed over the biggest tattoo. A lavender patch that spanned across her belly, up her ribcage, and curving around to mid back. He felt rather than saw the thin raised edges of healed sliced skin. There were so many hidden amongst the purple flowers.
“And these?” Draco had not intended for his tone to be flat and cold but the sheer volume of slash marks was causing his vision to tunnel with rage.
Hermione stiffened.
“A dead man…” her voice was strangled.
Her tone immediately caught his attention. Draco’s intuition told him that these scars were likely the trigger for her episodes and he needed to distract her to prevent another one. He shoved his anger away and went for the most obvious target.
His hands slid up her belly, palming her naked breasts. They were so soft and smooth, and fit perfectly in his hands. Hermione hissed in surprise, but leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering closed. Draco pinched the pebbled flesh of her nipples and a sharp groan escaped her lips as her back arched, putting her breasts right in his face.
How could any wizard resist such a temptation?
Draco gently kissed the swells of her pale flesh, slowly moving closer to the sensitive tip, while continuing to pinch and massage the other. Hermione stepped closer, her legs on either side of his knees. He looked up and met her heated gaze as he took her nipple in his mouth and sucked in at the same moment he pinched the other, hard. Her eyes drifted shut as her head went back.
Draco spent an indiscernible amount of time lavishing attention on her long-neglected breasts, making sure to switch between the two to not play favorites. Hermione’s reactions at every suck, nip, and pinch were maddening. Once her pale mounds were peppered with love bites and her nipples were red and swollen, he moved his attention south.
His hands slid down her sides, catching in the band of her lounge pants and yanking them down. Hermione stepped out and kicked them to the side as Draco stood, pulling her in for a kiss. Her mouth opened for him and their tongues danced their familiar dance as he maneuvered the witch.
Once she stood between him and the window seat, Draco gave Hermione a small push and she fell back into the pillows with a giggle. He bent over her, capturing her giggles with his tongue.
Draco could stay like that forever. Would willingly die of thirst and starvation just to have the minty taste of Hermione on his tongue always…
Too soon, they broke apart to catch their breath. Draco trailed kisses down her neck and chest, pausing to fondle her breasts before continuing his pilgrimage down her ribcage and belly. He kissed and licked every scar that passed.
One day soon, the wizard promised himself, he would count and kiss every mark on his witch’s perfect skin, but today he had a different goal in mind.
Today Draco would taste the deepest part of her…
Hermione caught onto his intentions as he passed her belly button, his fingers dipping below the band of her knickers. She raised her hips as Draco slid them off, and then settled onto his knees.
Hermione lay before Draco fully naked for the first time. She was propped up on the pillows, her chest rising with her pants of desire. Her knees bent over the edge of the window seat, her feet dangling in the triangle of space between his thighs and the wall. She studied him as intently as he studied her. Hating the separation, his hands slipped up her calves. He noted that her scars and tattoos, though sparse, did creep down her hips and legs.
Draco shoved away the errant jealous thought of how much of Hermione’s body Charlie Weasley had seen—
Had touched…
—and the implications.
He was dead and Hermione loved him…
She must have hidden them under a glamour all these months. A much more manageable task versus what would have been required for her top half. No wonder she settled for clothing charmed to stay in place.
Draco's palms rested on her knees, which were firmly pressed together.
“Open up for me, love,” he requested, kissing the top of her thigh and her knees sprang apart.
“Good girl,” Draco purred as he guided her legs up, placing her feet on his shoulders, giving him an uninterrupted view of his witch. Hermione started to squirm under the scrutiny of his stare and made to close her legs, to hide herself from him but he caught her thighs.
Draco met her nervous eyes, giving her a ‘don't you dare,’ look and pulled her closer. She squeaked in surprise as he positioned her right at the edge of the seat. Not breaking eye contact, he kissed her inner thigh.
“Beautiful,” Draco mumbled into her skin.
Hermione’s eyes went wide and she licked her lips as he kissed closer to her cunt. The scent of her filled his nose. The intoxicating combination of lavender, musk, and a scent that was all her own.
With one hand, Draco spread her pink folds wide. Her needy cunt was already dripping wet and ready for him. Hermione gasped as he dipped the tip of his tongue in, testing the flavor of her. It was earthy, slightly sweet, and highly addictive.
Draco needed more…
He put his mouth on her, licking every fold and crevice, learning her body's secrets with his tongue. When Draco found that little bundle of nerves, he sucked it gently. Hermione arched against him with a strangled cry and her hands went to his hair, pulling him closer. He hummed in satisfaction, which caused her to emit another cry of pleasure.
Draco worked her clit, testing what got the best reactions. When he had her writhing before him, her gasps and groans of pleasure ringing in his ears, he slid a finger inside her tight cunt. Hermione jolted up. With one hand fisted in his hair, the other arm propping her up with her back arched, Hermione bucked against his face and finger.
“Draco… I'm going to— to— fuck!” she panted desperately.
Draco added a second finger and lapped at her greedily as Hermione rode his face. With a strangled cry, her body clenched around his finger and she came on his tongue. He drank every last drop of her sweet release.
Hermione fell back boneless amongst the pillows, panting for breath. Draco savored the sight as he stood to remove his trousers. He fisted his throbbing cock with the same hand he had pleasured her with, working its length with the remains of Hermione’s climax and the precum leaking out the tip. The early afternoon sun made her sweaty skin glow.
She was glorious…
One hand on her knee, the other still on Draco's aching cock, he positioned himself at the entrance of her wet cunt. His witch’s legs spread wide, giving him better access and he slid into her tight warmth. Hermione wrapped her legs and arms around him, holding Draco closer than ever before. He stayed like that, savoring the warmth of her body enveloping him.
It felt like home…
A feeling Draco hadn't experienced in years. A feeling he never thought he would experience again. And to have found it in the most unlikely of places.
Hermione was his home…
Draco tried to convey with his body the emotions he couldn't put into words. It wasn't that he didn't want to. He didn't know how. Just saying three little words didn't seem enough. He kissed her, snapping his hips, plunging deeper inside her and she kissed him back with the same desperate emotion as they lost themselves in each other.
~.~
Hours later, after multiple sessions and location changes, Hermione lay half-dozing on the bed. Draco’s head lay on her belly as her fingers played with the strands of his hair. He traced the edges of her tattoos as he contemplated the warmth and contentment he was currently experiencing.
It felt right and wrong at the same time…
Right because it was with her. Somehow, through war and misfortune, they had found each other. Somehow, a history of hate and prejudices had morphed into something beautiful.
Something not only worth living for but fighting for…
Wrong because Draco couldn't fathom what he had done to deserve such a witch.
“I can practically hear your brain overthinking,” Hermione stated sleepily. “Penny for your thoughts?”
Draco shifted to his elbows to look at her.
“What the hell is a penny?” he grumbled. “And why is it worth a thought?”
“It's an American saying,” Hermione chuckled and continued to play with his hair. “A penny is a form of currency. It's an invitation to tell me what's on your mind.”
“Well my thoughts are worth many pennies…” Draco replied stubbornly.
Hermione’s golden eyes bore into my silver ones.
“Talk to me Draco.”
Oddly enough… he found he wanted to.
“When I was forced to join the Dark Lord, I knew it would only lead to death,” Draco started. “There are no happy endings for Death Eaters. In victory or defeat. But you… “
He took the hand not in his hair and held it tight.
“You showed me a way back to the path of the living. You showed me a possible future, however unlikely, worth hoping for. I can't decide if I should thank you or curse you.”
“How about neither?” Hermione asked with a small smile as she pulled Draco in for a kiss. “Just enjoy the time we have and live.”
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 28: His Witch Ch 28
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 28
They had two weeks of peace. Two weeks of lazy days spent reading, talking, and fucking. Two weeks of getting to know each other on a different level. Hermione was open and honest, answering any questions Draco had, and he repaid in kind. They talked about thier childhoods, their time at Hogwarts, and their favorite things. He especially loved taunting her about the eccentric things he heard about her during school.
~.~
“What was it called again?” Draco teased one rainy afternoon as they lounged in bed after a rigorous morning. “Spew?”
“It was not called spew!” Hermione shrieked as she pushed his head out of her lap. “It was the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. S.P.E.W. for short. It was an acronym! Why is that so hard for people to understand?”
“Why are you denying the truth that most acronyms are used as words? I think you are just upset because you didn’t consider all possibilities and refuse to admit it.”
“They are not!”
Draco could see that she was getting flustered and loved it.
“They very much are.”
“Are not!”
“Are too.”
“I bet you can’t give me five examples,” she challenged.
Draco held up five fingers.
“N.E.W.T.S.” He lowered his thumb.
“W.O.M.B.A.T.” Down went his pointer finger.
“Sonar.” He had learned that one after questioning her about her technique to break into the vault. Hermione did not look pleased when he put down his middle finger.
“NASA.” Another one she had taught him after reading a book on muggle space travel and became fascinated. Only his pinky finger was left.
“And S.P.E.W.”
Draco laughed as she hit him with a pillow, which earned him a couple more blows before he wrestled the pillow out of her hands.
“Why were you so obsessed with elf rights anyway?” He asked once his witch was disarmed. “Seems an odd thing for a muggle-born to care about. You didn’t have a house elf growing up.”
Hermione’s face turned serious. “One does not need to own slaves to oppose their existence.”
Draco bristled at her words. “They aren’t slaves.”
“What would you call them then?”
“House-elves.”
“Yes. House-elves, who serve their masters every whim at all hours of the day without pay or rights.”
“They don’t want to be paid. They only want to serve and their master takes care of them.”
“Oh, do they?”
He didn’t like the look in her eye. “Yes…”
“Like your family took care of Dobby?”
Draco froze.
He hadn’t thought of their old house-elf in a very long time. Dobby had been his caretaker as a child. Draco had loved him and was devastated when he was deemed old enough to start his studies and Dobby was reassigned to caring for the household. He never saw him again because the mark of a good house-elf is to not be seen.
He only knew of the elf’s departure from their service because of his father’s rantings at the end of 2nd year. Draco had heard that the elf had gotten a job in Hogwarts after and had hoped to run into him at some point but never did.
Then he heard that Dobby had perished during the golden trio’s escape from Malfoy manor.
It was a small drop in the bucket of despair that Draco was swimming in at the time. He never got the chance to mourn.
Hermione must have seen the shifting emotions on his face because she no longer looked at him with anger.
“How bad was it?” Draco finally whispered.
Her eyes softened. “His treatment or his death?”
He swallowed before he could answer. “Both.”
“I never saw him myself during 2nd year. He only appeared to Harry but from what he told me, it was pretty bad. That Dobby was always bruised and constantly trying to punish himself for disobeying his master. It’s a compulsion that plagued him long after he was freed.”
Hermione took a breath, her eyes suddenly glassy as she continued. “Dobby was the one that got us out of Malfoy manor. As a house-elf, he could bypass the anti-apparation wards but he was hit with a flying dagger during our escape.”
She didn’t say who did the throwing. She didn’t need to. Throwing daggers was his father’s favorite pastime. He had even taught Bellatrix and would have been furious to see his elf helping the enemy.
“His death was quick.” Tears were streaming down her face. “Dobby died in Harry’s arms moments after our escape and we gave him a proper burial outside of Shell Cottage.”
Hermione reached forward and brushed his cheek. He hadn’t even realized he was crying until he saw the moisture on her fingertips.
“If we make it through this war alive, I will pledge a very generous donation to your cause, but only if you change the ridiculous name,” he said after clearing his throat and wiping his face.
Hermione gave him a sly smile. “Make it an annual donation and you have yourself a deal.”
Draco laughed as he pulled her close.
~.~
Only happy topics were allowed after that afternoon because neither of them was willing to dampen the happy atmosphere that had settled in the cabin.
It was still the best two weeks of Draco’s life…
Hermione was still recovering and Theo had strict orders on non-stressful activities, which included training or strategizing. So when the owl arrived Thursday morning with two notes he knew their peace was over.
The first was an invitation from Theo for Draco to visit his mother again, and the second was a request for a meeting between Hermione, Shacklebolt, and Potter. The fact that they were scheduled for the same day and time made it clear that he was not invited to the meeting. Theo had likely been volun-told to keep him occupied.
Time to return to harsh reality…
It was fine because Hermione was back on the mend and more than capable of taking care of herself. At least that is what Draco kept telling himself. He had not anticipated the fierce protectiveness that washed over him at the thought of Hermione leaving his presence.
Draco seriously considered kidnapping the witch and spiriting her to another far-off country. He only decided against it because he knew said witch would remove his bollocks if he tried it.
The next morning they prepared for their individual appointments. Hermione stood before the mirror on her dresser, adjusting the straps on her new armor before transfiguring it to a black turtleneck, then completed the look with a purple jumper. Her newly regrown hair was pulled back in a french braid.
His witch was the picture of cozy and functional winter fashion. She purposely wanted to appear non-threatening for this meeting to put Shacklebolt off his game. Only Draco knew the secret of her unassuming clothes.
Maybe later he could persuade her to make a game of finding all her daggers, he thought with a smirk as he laced up his boots.
Draco wore a thick winter robe over his armor. He doubted anything would happen with Theo while visiting his mother, but it was better to be prepared. Once they were both ready, he followed Hermione out of the room and to the hall. She went to her tiptoes and pressed an easy kiss to his lips, but as his witch went to step away, he pulled her to him, deepening the kiss.
“Draco,” she implored between kisses. “We are going to be late.”
He growled in response, silenced her protests with his tongue, and pinned her against the wall. She made a needy sound in the back of her throat as she melted into him. They snogged for several minutes, only parting to breathe. Her hands went to his hair as Draco ran his nose along her jaw, savoring the smell of her.
“Draco,” she gasped while angling her head to the side, baring a small area of pale flesh just over her turtleneck. Unable to pass on such a tempting target, his mouth descended on the spot, biting and sucking as Hermione moaned.
The bloody Order could wait. Fucking his witch into the wall was infinitely more important…
Somewhere in the cabin, a clock chimed the hour and Hermione stiffened. Draco seriously considered whether he could get away with casting Bombarda on the muggle contraption without her getting too angry.
“Draco…” this time she said it with a tone of annoyance.
“What?” he grumbled into her skin.
Hermione yanked Draco’s hair, pulling his lips from her neck. She gave him an exasperated look.
“I can't help it,” Draco argued, giving her a sly smile. “My parents named me well. Dragons have a tendency to hoard things, and I want you all to myself.”
“That is an understatement if I ever heard one,” she said with a laugh. “And as much as I would love to just stay in this cabin with you, we both have responsibilities we can't ignore.”
“Fine,” he huffed, stepping back.
“Don't pout,” Hermione said, tapping him on the nose. “The sooner we get these meetings over with, the sooner we both can come home.”
She turned away from Draco to check her appearance in a mirror hanging by the door. She fixed some loose strands of hair and adjusted her collar. When she turned back to face him, she had left the fresh love bite proudly on display and he didn't hide his satisfied smirk.
Everyone would know who left that mark on her skin. Everyone would know that Hermione had chosen Draco. That she was his witch.
He wished he could witness Weasley’s face when he saw it for the first time…
“Good luck,” Draco said.
“I make my own luck,” she replied and apparated away.
He fought the urge to blow off Theo and follow her, but his presence would only heighten what would likely be a very tense meeting. Shacklebot had several weeks to stew in the fact that Hermione had tricked him with that muggle recording device.
So Draco met with Theo in the same spot and the visit with his mother went much the same. This time he sat with Narcissa in front of the fireplace as Mrs. Esme briefed him and Theo on her care. After an hour, the retired healer saw them out but as he prepared to return home, Theo caught his arm.
“Want to grab a drink?” he asked.
“Why?”
He hesitated a moment before replying, “We should talk.”
He was right. They did need to talk.
“Where? We can't exactly walk into the three broomsticks and I doubt it would be a good idea for me to go to headquarters after what happened last time,” Draco reasoned.
Then Theo said words he never expected to come out of his mouth.
“There’s a muggle pub I frequent. It's not far from here. We can walk there.”
Draco stared at him with his mouth open.
“Granger will be so thrilled when I detail your disgust at going to a muggle establishment,” he commented with a raised eyebrow.
He snapped his mouth shut.
“I’m not disgusted, just surprised,” he hissed. “The great Theodore Nott I knew would never step foot in any establishment with less than a five-star rating.”
“Well, five years of being dead and a lack of options can drastically change a person's standards. Especially because there’s only so much solo drinking one can do before falling into a deep hole of despair.”
Theo started walking towards the road.
“Are you coming?” he called over his shoulder.
A moment later Draco jogged after him.
The pub was a 10-minute walk, situated in a quaint little town. Theo made sure to transfigure their robes into muggle jackets before they stepped out of the tree line and Draco tried to not stare as they walked through the streets.
This was his first excursion into muggle society while not on Death Eater business. Those visits had much more nefarious intent and sightseeing after was not advised.
The streets were quiet, the cold December wind causing everyone to seek refuge in their warm homes. Theo led the way to the old brick building with the pub sign hanging above the door. They stepped inside, shutting the door against the bone-chilling wind.
The old muggle behind the bar raised a hand and greeted Theo by name. Theo replied with a “Hey Marty,” as he directed Draco towards an empty booth in the far corner. He slid in as Theo removed his jacket and hung it on a peg built into the wooden bench.
“I'll get our drinks,” Theo stated before heading towards Marty.
Draco took a moment to look around. Despite it being late morning and quite cold outside, there were a couple of patrons scattered amongst the tables. Besides the few patrons dressed in muggle clothes, the place looked almost exactly like a wizard bar.
Theo came back with two glasses and an unopened bottle of whiskey. Draco raised an eyebrow as the curly-haired wizard sat across from him.
“With what we are about to discuss, we are both going to need it,” was all he said as he opened the bottle. Theo poured a generous portion into both glasses, then slid one to Draco, who caught it and eyed the amber liquid.
He’d never tried muggle whiskey before. Draco sniffed it before bringing it to his lips and taking a small sip. The cool liquid washed over his tongue. It was very smooth compared to firewhisky, with only a hint of a burn. He took another sip.
It was surprisingly good.
They nursed their drinks in several long minutes of silence.
Finally, Theo cleared his throat. “So I'm going to assume you and Granger made up.”
Draco didn't bother to answer him, just took another sip of his drink.
The silence stretched on.
This was a waste of his time…
“You are the one who wanted to talk,” Draco said, keeping his tone even. “And I know it's not about my relationship status with Hermione. So talk.”
“Relationship status!” Theo said, cocking his brow. “My… that is an unexpected development.”
His old schoolmate said it in a tone that he knew grated Draco's nerves.
“Spit it out already,” he growled, clenching his jaw. “Or I'm leaving.”
“Fine, fine,” Theo relented, holding his hands up in surrender. “You were never so easily riled before.”
“Well, 8 years of war and finding out your dead best friend isn’t actually dead can put a person on edge.”
Theo flinched.
Good… the bastard deserved to feel guilty…
“I would say sorry but I know you better than that. You don't want an apology, you want answers. Even as a child, you hated not having all the information. I'm here to give them to you.” He took a sip of his drink before continuing. “So ask any and all questions. As long as I'm not magically bound to secrecy, I will answer. I promise to be much more forthcoming than Granger for sure.”
Draco surveyed the room hesitantly.
They were in a muggle pub for Merlin’s sake…
“I wordlessly cast Muffliato around us, and Marty already knows I prefer to drink undisturbed. No one will overhear anything they shouldn't,” Theo commented on his unverbalized concern.
Fine… let them see how truly honest he was.
“Why did you start spying for the Order?”
“Straight for the jugular…” Theo mumbled, shaking his head. “During the summer before 5th year, my father played host to many of his old Death Eater friends. One night they were drinking and reminiscing about the good old days of the first war. I overheard my father lamenting over the fact he didn't have another wife to kill to gain the Dark Lord’s favor. He bragged about murdering my mother hours after my birth. So, when I overheard Snape talking about Order business with McGonagall, I saw it as an opportunity to avenge her.”
Bloody hell… Draco figured the mysterious death of his mother played a part in it, but to hear his father bragging about it…
“Are you assured of my honesty and sincerity now?” Theo asked coldly.
Draco nodded his head.
“Next question.”
“Why did you renew our friendship in 5th year?”
“You already know the reason. It was to hopefully get information about your Death Eater father to pass on to the Order.”
“Yeah, Snape told me. But I had to hear it for myself,” he said just as coldly.
“Just because I had an ulterior motive for rekindling our friendship, doesn't mean it was faked,” Theo’s voice was reassuring. “I had wanted to reconnect for years, but we were both so stubborn.”
He wasn't wrong. Draco decided to let that grudge go. There was no point in dwelling on something that occurred what felt like a lifetime ago.
He thought about what he could ask next. Hermione had been very forthcoming the past couple of weeks but maybe he could get more information about the rift between her and Potter.
No…
That felt like a severe breach of her trust. When Hermione was ready to tell Draco, she would tell him.
Or…
He could get more information on a subject that has been plaguing him. A subject that he had been too afraid to ask Hermione about.
“What do you know about Charles Weasley?” Draco finally asked.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 29: His Witch Ch 29
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 29
Draco did not expect the pain that flashed across Theo’s face. His dark-haired friend gripped his glass tight enough that he thought it would shatter.
“So you’ve seen her tattoos,” he breathed after a long moment. “You don't need to worry. Hermione and Charlie— he preferred Charlie, not Charles— were only ever just friends.”
He wasn't convinced and Theo was clearly hiding something.
“Charles had to have been someone special for Hermione to trust him in such a way,” Draco reasoned. “He saw and touched parts of her usually only shared with a lover.”
“It's Charlie, and I can guarantee that Hermione was not his someone special. They were just friends.” Theo's tone was tense, and his jaw flexed.
“But how can you be sure?” the blond insisted.
“Because I am.”
“But how—”
“Because I was his someone special!” Theo hissed, banging his fist on the table. Then he paled, instantly deflated after his sudden and uncharacteristic show of anger.
Draco was speechless. It took a long moment to process the information as the curly-haired wizard downed the remainder of his drink before immediately pouring another. Then Theo pointed to his glass, wordlessly offering a top-off. Draco pushed it towards him.
“So… you and Charles—”
Theo glared at him.
“Sorry,” Draco apologized immediately. “You and Charlie were… together?”
Theo nodded his head.
“So you like wizards?” the blond wizard asked uncomfortably.
The whole situation was a bit awkward. This was not what would be considered polite conversation. Pureblood wizards don't discuss sex or partner inclinations, but Hermione had already broadened his horizons in one category, so it was easier to be receptive to his friend’s confession.
“Please, Draco, you should know me better than that,” Theo replied with a sarcastic chuckle. “I’m infinitely more complicated.”
He paused to sip his drink.
“I’m attracted to people. It's less about their aesthetics and more about their personalities,” Theo explained.
Draco nodded his head in acceptance even if he didn't quite understand. It all sounded outlandish to him, but at the end of the day, his friend’s choice of lovers didn't affect him in any way.
“Hermione told me he passed away 2 years ago. You must have truly cared about him to still miss him enough to correct his name preference.”
“He was my person…” Theo said so softly, that Draco barely caught his words. The healer’s face fell and he saw the briefest glimpse of his pain before Theo composed himself.
Draco gave him a couple of minutes to recover before asking, “So how did that all come about? You swore in school that you’d never fall for a bleeding heart Gryffindor.”
Theo chuckled. “I did, didn't I?” He scrubbed his face with a hand. “I didn't exactly plan for it to happen, it just happened. The Order couldn't exactly go the traditional route with my healer training and send me off to school. Can't enroll someone who was supposed to be dead, so I learned everything through books and lots of hands-on training. Charlie was one of their top fighters, so he was always being sent out on missions. As a result, he was often in the healer's corridor, either getting treated himself or visiting with one of his buddies.”
Theo took another deep draft from his cup.
“There are many in the Order that do not trust the son of a Death Eater, despite my being a spy for them for years. He was one of the few people who didn't treat me differently because of my family history. We kept crossing paths and over time passing greetings turned into conversations, then friendship that eventually bloomed into something else.”
Theo’s lips quirked up in a small smile.
“It didn't help that I had a bit of a hero crush on him since Charlie saved my life…”
“Oh?” Draco asked, taking another sip of the whiskey. “Saved you how?”
Theo’s face hardened. There were several long minutes before he answered. “Charlie and Snape were the ones who rescued Granger and me from my family’s estate 5 years ago.”
Draco choked on his drink, coughing and gasping for air. Theo signaled to Marty, who brought over a glass of water.
“What… happened?” he asked between coughs once the muggle bartender was far enough away.
Theo looked surprised. “I thought you said you saw Granger’s tattoo.”
Draco chugged the glass before answering and it calmed the burn of the whiskey enough to speak properly. “I have seen them, but Hermione can’t talk about it without experiencing a CMMS episode.”
“Then she's still having nightmares.” It was a statement, not a question. Theo’s face was serious and thoughtful.
A healer’s face…
“Only a few since our mission, but I understand they used to be more consistent,” Draco told him.
Theo’s eyes focused on him in surprise and studied him intently for a long time. Draco was sure the healer would ask how he knew about her history of nightmares these past weeks.
How could he explain it without revealing that they shared a bed now?
It was bad enough that Snape suspected and Draco wasn't ready to make their relationship public. It was his and Hermione’s private business. No one else’s.
It was several minutes before Theo finally spoke and it was not what Draco expected.“5 years ago, Granger was the Order's head strategist and was the mastermind behind the Gringotts break-in. The plan was to spook the Horcrux holders and trick them into moving the items to a less secure location. The logic was that the families in possession of the Horcruxes would be the quickest in transferring vaults to appease the Dark Lord’s wrath. My father was the first to request such a transfer.”
His heart started pounding.
“As a high-ranking Death Eater amongst the Dark Lord's followers since the first war, it made sense that my father might be trusted with such an honor. I was still only a spy for the Order and didn't even know at the time what the Order was searching for, but I was ready to contribute more to the cause. I came up with the plan to get Granger and her team on the estate. I told her about the secret tunnel and all the wards on the estate and vault. We waited until my father was out of town doing the Dark Lord’s bidding before setting it in motion.”
The curly-haired wizard took another deep sip of his glass before continuing.
“I was present when they broke into the estate. Granger had brought Fleur and Bill Weasley because I couldn't access the family vaults until my father’s death, so their experience as curse breakers was essential in cracking the wards. It was going exactly as planned until we opened the vaults and found my father standing amongst the piles of gold.”
Theo looked down at the table, scratching the wood grain.
“I had underestimated his paranoia, believing he would never suspect his own son of betraying him. I was wrong. He had somehow caught onto the fact that I was spying for the Order and had faked his plans to leave town to catch me in the act. Using the element of surprise, he attacked as soon as the vault door opened and restrained all of us with relative ease.”
“He stood over me, his rage oozing out of him like a toxic fume. He didn't yell or scream, just stared like he was trying to find the errors in my soul that would lead to such betrayal.”
Theo closed his eyes and his jaw flexed like he didn't want to continue. Part of Draco wanted to comfort his friend and tell him he didn't have to speak on what was clearly a traumatic memory, but there was the other, bigger part of him that wanted to know what happened to his lover. The bigger part won out and the blonde remained silent and his patience was rewarded.
“‘Soft. Just like your mother.’ was all he said before he cast the Imperius Curse on me.” Theo’s voice had become cold and distant and Draco assumed his friend was occluding. ”He forced me to torture Bill and Fleur while he gave Granger his undivided attention. He tortured her for hours with blades, slicing her skin over and over just to heal it all up before starting again. He didn't ask one question throughout the whole thing, not even why they were there. He just took pleasure in their pain.”
Rage turned his vision red, but he bit his tongue so his friend could continue.
“Bill died first, 2 days in. I think his heart gave out during the Cruciatus. One second he was screaming, and then he went suddenly silent and limp. Fleur started wailing in dismay. Those cries bothered my father the most. He tried to silence her weeping but even without sound her pain was palpable. So he Avada’d her.”
“With the other prisoners dead, he had me turn my attention to Granger. Still under Imperius, he had me continually Crucio her as he sliced her open again and again. Her screams excited my father. The louder she got the deeper he cut. But when she lost her voice partway, that was the worst.”
Theo shut his eyes tight and shook his head like he was trying to force the memory away. Cold sweat covered his skin as he tried to maintain his composure.
“My father did such sadistic horrible things trying to get her to scream again, I cannot speak of them without getting physically ill. Then he would release me from his curse and leave us there alone in the cell. My father had not taken my wand because he knew it was pointless. We had no hope of escaping even with magic. I would try to care for Granger, to heal her in what little ways I could. I even tried to heal her throat, but my skills weren't good enough.”
“That's why you became a healer,” Draco realized aloud.
Theo nodded his head. “As penance for all the pain I inflicted during those six days.”
“6 days?!?”
Theo just nodded his head again.
Horror made Draco numb.
6 days…
How did Hermione survive?
“When Snape and Charlie showed up on the sixth day, my father was so consumed by his task, that he didn't even notice them outside the cell and I was so strongly Imperiused that I couldn't have said anything if I wanted to. When Snape saw what had been done to Granger— I had never seen him so angry before. He struck my father down and I was released from his spell but before I could explain what happened, Snape turned on me. A barely conscious Granger stopped him, her strangled voice just loud enough to halt his wand.”
Theo took a deep breath.
“Charlie offered me a potion while Snape worked on Granger. It must have been a sedative because the next thing I remembered was waking up in Order headquarters. I expected to wake up in a jail cell but instead, I was in a cot in the healer's corridor with Healer Esme standing over me with a diagnostic spell.”
“I'm surprised Shacklebolt and Potter didn't have you arrested,” Draco observed.
He was trying desperately to focus on anything else besides his witch's part in the story. Rage and fury twisted in his stomach and Draco had to continually remind himself that this was years ago and Nott Senior was already dead. He wanted to rip the old man apart piece by piece for what he had done to Hermione and Theo.
“I was too. I waited for the inevitable as I recovered, fully expecting to get dragged away at any moment. When I was given a clean bill of health, I went to visit Granger to see how she was faring and found Snape sitting at her bedside as she slept. He gave me his ‘What are you doing here?’ look and I quickly explained that I just wanted to check on her before I turned myself in.”
“Snape scoffed at me and explained that Granger had already given an account of the failed mission and I was cleared of any ill intent. I questioned how that was even possible when I was responsible for the deaths of two Order members and the torture of a 3rd. I understand now that I wasn't at fault but at the time I was racked with guilt. Snape sat me down and explained that Granger had told Shacklebolt that she had been the one Imperiused and ordered to torture her team members, including myself, and to contradict her would not be advisable. When I asked why she would do that, he only said ‘Miss Granger knows the son of a Death Eater would never get a fair trial. Don't throw away this opportunity.’”
Draco watched a single tear glide down Theo’s pale cheek before the wizard brushed it away and he continued.
“Granger had saved me not once, but twice. I left the room and marched right to Healer Esme and demanded to be trained as a healer.”
Once again, Draco found Hermione’s kindness and self-sacrificing tendencies as both awe-inspiring and rage-inducing. She would give every piece of herself until there was nothing left.
There were several long moments of heavy silence as he processed the information. Draco went through the whole gamut of emotions—- fury, horror, and dismay foremost amongst them— before settling on one. The one that would serve him best in this moment. Admiration for the witch that he could now call his.
“Why did you tell me this?” Draco asked Theo after several minutes.
The wizard across from him shrugged, clearly exhausted from the retelling. “I was going to tell you anyway, but now you understand Granger better. After what she experienced, I doubt she would be able to say anything about it. She clearly hasn't worked through her trauma and likely won't until after the war. It's not her priority at the moment, but I want to give her the best chance at some happiness, both now and in the future.”
“I don't know what you could mean,” Draco said, trying to dodge the implications.
Theo gave him a knowing smirk. “Don't you? I've known you since we were 3 years old and I don't think I've ever seen you as calm or content as I have today, despite the visit with your mom and our conversation. You seem almost— I'm not even sure what word to use to describe— settled maybe? Yeah, that feels right. It seems as if something has settled within you, finally giving you peace.”
The blonde wizard said nothing in reply, just drained his glass.
He and Theo finished the bottle in silence over a simple lunch, a muggle delicacy called fish and chips. It could have been the warm haze of whiskey talking, but Draco thought it tasted bloody delicious. Afterward, Theo paid the bill and he followed his friend out into the December cold.
“How did you even find this place?” Draco asked. The question had plagued him since Theo first mentioned the pub. Draco noticed the slight slur to his words and groaned internally.
Merlin, when had he become such a lightweight? He couldn't apparate home like this…
“Charlie,” was Theo's curt response before he turned into the biting wind.
They walked for several minutes, their destination unclear. The dark-haired wizard led him back up the lane of trees. Once they were well out of sight of the town, Theo turned. He offered a box of Cruciatus potions for Hermione, which Draco pocketed, then a hangover potion, which he took and drank with relief as the alcohol-induced haze immediately cleared.
Time to go home.
Draco cocked his head towards Theo in a silent goodbye and turned to find a spot to apparate.
“Draco…”
The blonde stopped in his tracks, turning to face his oldest friend, a clear look of pain on the healer’s face. Theo opened and closed his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. After a few attempts, he squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath to try to compose himself, but when he opened them the pain was still evident.
“Don’t take—” Theo's voice cracked and he had to clear his throat before continuing. “Don't take for granted the time you have with Granger. You can lose it just as quickly as you found it. Enjoy it while you can for as long as you can.”
His voice grew softer with every word, his pain smothering his voice. Draco put a hand on his shoulder, trying to comfort his grieving friend.
“I won’t,” he promised, squeezing Theo’s shoulder. “And I'm sorry for your loss. Charlie must have been a great person to have attracted your attention. You could never settle for less than the absolute best, after all.”
Theo gave a weak chuckle. “That is true.”
His dark-haired friend squared his shoulders, took a deep breath, and his grief seemed to melt away, but Draco knew that it wasn’t gone, just buried deep. He could still see hints it in the slight hunch of Theo’s normally perfect posture and the slightly soft edges of his smile before he turned away.
“I'll owl you with details for the next visit. Give Granger my regards,” The wizard called over his shoulder before apparating away.
A moment later, Draco followed suit, landing in the hallway. His witch was already home, unloading stack after stack of books from her beaded bag. She looked up when he arrived, her eyebrows raised and mouth a gape.
“Is— is that a winter jacket?” she sputtered, as she eyed him up and down.
Draco had forgotten that Theo had transfigured his robes.
“Theo took me to a muggle pub for lunch after my visit,” he explained, stepping closer. “Why? See something you like?”
With an appreciative hum and a smirk, she purred, “Maybe.”
His witch went on her tiptoes to kiss him and Draco held her to him for several long moments before she pulled away.
“I think Theo might have missed his calling. Clearly, he has a way with muggle fashion,” she said, returning to her task.
“Or maybe it's just the model,” he teased.
She smirked and ignored his comment.“So you two made up?”
“I guess,” Draco said with a shrug, allowing the change of subject. “What is all this?”
He gestured towards the still-growing stack of books.
“Books on the history of Hogwarts dating back to its establishment,” Hermione answered as she pulled out the last stack of books and brushed her hands together.
Draco raised an eyebrow at her in silent inquiry.
“The meeting today, after some posturing and glaring from Shacklebolt, was about locating the final two Horcruxes. Snape has been ordered to locate the snake, not that he hasn't been trying to do just that for the last few years. Harry is adamant that the last one has to be in Hogwarts somewhere. So these books are for research. Hopefully, the answer to what it is and where it could be located is hidden in one of these tomes.”
“We found and destroyed the last one,” Draco said in annoyance. “Isn't it time they start pulling their weight?”
“Harry has had a team working on trying to uncover any information,” Hermione reasoned. “These books are all from them. I just want to comb through them to see if there is anything they missed.”
Probably a lot… he had no confidence in the Order's abilities…
“Theo only just cleared you for work,” Draco said, noting the strain around her eyes.
“It's been a month since the Lestrange estate burned down. Gringotts is expected to report Rudolphus’s death and lack of an heir any day now, then Tom will work to secure the Lestrange vaults. We need to find the Hogwarts Horcrux before then,” Hermione argued.
“Fine, but at least take a break before diving head first into all this reading. I'm sure the meeting with Potter and Shacklebolt was exhausting.”
Theo’s words of enjoying time with his witch still rang in Draco’s ears. He wouldn't let her obsessive nature and the pursuit of the Horcrux pull her attention away from him again. He stepped closer, wrapping the end of her braid around his fist and gently yanking her head back.
Usually, Draco preferred her mane of curls wild and loose, but the braid had possibilities…
“I highly doubt what you have in mind can be considered restful,” she purred as he pressed into her back.
“I disagree. Fucking you until we both pass out from pleasure is a perfectly acceptable way to start a nap.”
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 30: His Witch Ch 30
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 30
Hours later, they sat in front of the fire working through the stacks of old books. Hermione had taught Draco her spell for faster reading, which made the task a little less daunting. As he thumbed through his fifth book of the night, he noticed his witch’s hands trembling as she struggled to turn the pages.
Theo’s prediction for her tremors had been accurate. They had worsened to the point that she needed double doses of his potion to remain steady throughout the day. A fact that greatly frustrated her.
Remembering the restock of potions Theo had given him earlier, Draco got up to retrieve them from his trousers, which were draped over the armchair. As he pulled the box out, a piece of folded paper that was caught on the bottom fluttered to the ground. He bent over to retrieve it before handing the box to Hermione.
She eyed the note curiously. “What's that?”
“I don't know,” Draco answered, turning the paper over and seeing the familiar loopy and whimsical penmanship.
Lovegood’s note…
He had completely forgotten about it.
“It’s from Lovegood,” Draco said as he held it out to Hermione. “She gave it to me the day of my first visit with my mother and told me to open it with you. I completely forgot about it for obvious reasons. Also, she told me to let you know that Crookshanks had settled in well, whatever that means.”
Hermione took it in her shaking hands.
“Crookshanks is my cat. He’s half kneazle and very old. I gave him to Luna for safekeeping.”
She took a Cruciatus potion and waited a few moments until her hands were steady enough to open and unfold the paper. Curious, Draco settled next to her.
He watched his witch’s face as she studied the page, a puzzled expression evident in her features.
“It's a lovely depiction of Rowena Ravenclaw’s lost diadem, but I'm not sure why she sent me this. I have not found any proof it even existed and even if it did, it's been lost for centuries.”
She handed back the note half-folded. His curiosity got the better of Draco and he flattened the creased paper to reveal a very detailed sketch of a very familiar crown.
A crown he recognized. A crown that he had seen over a hundred times throughout 6th year as Draco desperately attempted to fix a broken vanishing cabinet. A crown that likely still resided in a magical room filled with hidden and lost things on the seventh-floor corridor of Hogwarts.
What were the odds of that?
Draco couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled up his throat.
A look of concern was clear on Hermione’s face.
“Draco,” she said hesitantly. “Are you ok?”
It took a couple of minutes to gain his composure.
“You are going to want to call an Order meeting,” he said once he was able to talk again.
“Why?” her look of concern had morphed into confusion.
“Because I know exactly where the lost diadem is located,” Draco replied holding up Lovegood’s drawing. “And as much as I hate to admit it, we are likely going to need help getting into our old school.”
Despite the late hour, Athena was sent off with several letters requesting an urgent meeting but Hermione said nothing on the subject. Within a couple of hours, they sat next to each other at a large table in the Order headquarters. Shacklebolt, Weasley, and Potter were all in attendance along with Remus Lupin, who looked worse for wear.
The last time Draco got a good look at their old Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was the day before he quit in 3rd year. His hair was now more grey than light brown and in desperate need of a haircut. His face and neck were covered in several new scars. When his eyes fell on him, instead of the observant and slightly pitying look he gave him in 3rd year, Draco got a look of cold indifference bordering on hate.
No… the years had not been kind to Remus Lupin…
But they hadn't been kind to him either, so Draco met his dark looks without backing down.
Shacklebolt and Lupin were talking amongst themselves.
The weasel was glaring daggers in Draco’s direction.
Potter was quietly observing him and the witch beside him.
These were the Order’s best strategists?
No wonder they couldn’t get anything done without Hermione...
“Miss Granger,” Shacklebolt started after clearing his throat. “If you could please explain your reasons for calling an emergency meeting in the middle of the night?”
“Of course,” she replied with a fake sweet voice. “I was just waiting for—”
The door opened to admit Theo and Snape. Theo took a seat beside Draco in silence, a nod towards Hermione and Draco in greeting. Snape took the empty chair next to Hermione.
“Sorry for the delay, but I have news of the Dark Lord,” Snape said as he sat down.
“I didn't even know you were going to be participating in this meeting,” Shacklebolt said with a sneer.
“I invited him,” Hermione spoke up. “He is essential to what Draco and I are here to discuss, but first, what is your news, Professor?”
She turned her attention to Snape.
“Gringotts has officially reported the Lestrange Vaults as abandoned,” Snape said in his cold even tone. “The Dark Lord is expected to begin the process to claim them as his own soon, which means he could have access come the new year. I don't think I need to remind you what will likely happen once he realizes one of his Horcruxes is gone.”
“No, you do not Severus,” Lupin said dryly. “You have been thorough in your warnings of our failure and destruction should Tom become aware of our knowledge and subsequent destruction of his Horcruxes.”
Draco had to bite his tongue to contain his ire. Their knowledge and destruction?! Of the 4 recovered Horcruxes, the Order had not had a hand in destroying any of them. They didn't even know of their existence until well after the destruction of the third.
But he couldn't suppress his scoff and Lupin’s eyes turned towards Draco.
“Do you have something to say, Malfoy?”
Hermione’s hand went to his knee, squeezing in a silent request to behave.
“No,” Draco said coolly, holding his tongue at her request.
For now…
“Why is he even here?” Weasley snarled. “Should we even discuss this in the presence of a Death Eater?”
Before Draco could snap back, Hermione beat him to it.
“Draco has proven himself as an ally with the recovery and destruction of the fourth Horcrux,” she said with an edge to her voice. “And because of him, we may have identified the fifth and a lead on its location.”
Then she placed the creased sketch on the table. “The lost diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw.”
“It's been lost for centuries and is widely considered just a myth,” Shacklebolt scoffed at the paper.
“It exists. I've seen it many times and its last known location was the Room of Lost Things on the 7th-floor corridor of Hogwarts,” Draco snapped back.
“Also known as the Room of Requirement,” his witch added.
Shacklebolt and the weasel started to argue, but his eyes fell on Potter, who reached for the paper, his eyes distant, like he was lost in a memory.
“I’ve seen it,” he said as he studied the paper. “In 6th year. I had to hide something fast and I vaguely remember the crown sitting on the head of an old statue of a man in a wig.”
Exactly where Draco had seen it…
And of course, with confirmation from Potter, all resistance evaporated.
“How do we get into the school then?” Lupin asked. “The wards are designed to keep everyone who is not a student or teacher out.”
“Usually, yes,” Snape spoke up. “But they need to be recast every couple of years. When the Dark Lord ordered me to step down as headmaster, I neglected to pass the information on to my replacement.”
His replacement being none other than Dolores Umbridge, who took over the running of Hogwarts after she officially took the Dark Mark four years ago.
“They are likely in shambles at this point and I doubt Umbridge has even noticed,” Snape finished.
“Yes but we can't just waltz into the school,” Lupin shot back. “Every entrance is watched by Death Eaters, including the secret passages. The forest is crawling with dementors and Greyback’s pack since the Centaur herd got wiped out and Apparating is out of the question. The anti-appariation wards are built into the very foundation of the grounds and don't expire.”
The discussion dissolved into chaos with everyone trying to talk over each other. Potter and Shacklebolt’s suggestions were obvious and predictable. Each suggestion by Snape or Theo was shot down purely because they suggested it. Weasley actually had a good idea of breaking into the abandoned Hog's Head and using a portrait that could connect to the actual Room of Requirement.
Draco had the unfortunate task of informing them all that was no longer an option.
As a suspected Order sympathizer, upon Aberforth Dumbledore’s death nine months ago, the Dark Lord had ordered the inside of the inn burned to destroy any hidden stashes. The outside appeared normal but the inside was a charred husk that had been glamoured and rigged with multiple traps and wards to capture any trespassers. The Dark Lord hoped it would lure any Order members looking for refuge.
It had been successful, capturing Cho Chang, Susan Bones, Professor Hooch, Oliver Wood, and a couple of others he could not remember their names.
Draco had not been tasked with their information extraction, which led to the second task of informing them that their missing members were not prisoners. They were dead.
The Dark Lord did not keep anyone past their usefulness.
That did not help the tension in the room.
Throughout it all, Hermione was silent. Draco could practically feel the wheels turning in her head as she thought of a solution. Lupin had gone silent too. He watched his witch with a contemplative and expectant look on his face.
Draco barely suppressed the urge to growl…
Then, Hermione stood and the room was immediately silent.
“We fly in on brooms,” she said simply.
“We can't just fly in, Hermione,” Weasley argued. “The grounds are spelled to alert the headmaster and caretaker of any broom flights not belonging to Hogwarts or students. The Death Eaters will be notified the moment we enter their air space.”
“Correct, except the highest tower peaks above those protections,” she replied, meeting his glare with cold resolution. “Or did you forget the time Harry and I snuck a baby dragon up there to meet your brother? Charlie and his friends flew in on brooms.”
It was glorious watching Hermione put the weasel in his place and the ginger wizard was quiet for the rest of the meeting.
The rest debated the finer points of the plan into the early hours of the morning. With several outlying issues to work out, but fatigue weighing heavily on all at the table, it was agreed that a break in planning was needed. They would reconvene later that evening.
As Hermione and Draco headed for the exit, Snape joined them. They walked in silence through the empty halls. Once they were out of the building and beyond the wards, Snape stopped and cleared his throat.
“What is wrong, professor?” Hermione asked as she stepped closer. “Is it about the Lestrange vaults?”
“You caught that did you?” Snape commented as he checked to see if they were followed.
“Tom should be desperate to gain access to the vault and secure the Horcrux. Your statement that he’s expected to start the process indicates something has caught his attention. Something bigger than his obsession with conquering death.”
“Oh it is still much in line with the Dark Lord’s primary focus,” Snape said gravely.
Draco saw Hermione's face fall in the predawn gloom. “He's trying to master the Elder Wand again.”
Snape nodded his head. “The Dark Lord believes mastering it will solve his current predicament of losing control of his followers and turn the tide of this war back in his favor.”
“That is not at all how the Elder Wand works.”
“Logic and fact are not factored into his delusions.”
“What the bloody hell is an elder wand?” Draco asked, tired of being left out of the conversation.
Hermione looked towards him then at Snape and back again before disclosing a brief history of the Deathly Hallows, the Elder Wand, and how the Dark Lord had obtained it.
“So the Dark Lord has this legendary and powerful wand in his possession,” Draco recapped in disbelief. “And the fact that he hasn't managed to master it is the only reason he can't tap into its true potential.
“Tom doesn't understand wand possession and lore,” Hermione explained. “He may have claimed the wand from Dumbledore’s grave, but the wand recognized a different master before it was entombed.”
Then his witch’s eyes settled on Snape.
“You can’t go back, Professor. If Tom realizes the truth, he will kill you.”
“I am well aware of that fact, Miss Granger, but stepping away now will greatly cripple the destabilization of his regime.”
“You’ve done enough!” she pleaded. “Let the Order contribute for once and step back for your own safety.”
“Like you’ve done?” Snape snapped.
Hermione stepped back like she’d been struck.
“Severus…”
Snape turned away. “I’ve respected your choice to keep fighting. Now respect mine.”
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 31: His Witch Ch 31
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 31
Snape Apparated away and the lovers stood in several long moments of silence before Hermione offered her hand to Draco and they did the same. They crawled into their shared bed and quickly fell into an exhausted sleep. Hours later, the afternoon found them still lounging in bed.
Well, Draco was lounging.
His back was propped up against the wall of bookshelves with pillows, one hand holding open a copy of an old favorite of his. Draco had been surprised to find the wizard novel amongst Hermione’s collection, especially when she seemed to favor mostly non-fiction and a few muggle fantasy books. He was even more taken aback when she claimed it was one of her favorite books. The state of it confirmed her statement, as the book was well-used and clearly loved. The blonde wizard wandlessly turned the pages as his other hand brushed and twisted the ends of his witch’s curls.
Hermione lay adjacent to Draco, her feet dangling off the edge of the bed. Despite her head resting peacefully on his lap, her eyes’ frantic shifting proved her mind was hard at work.
Hermione was plotting.
For what exactly was unclear, but if he had to hazard a guess, it would be for the strategy meeting taking place in a few hours.
“I was surprised when you recommended flying,” Draco wondered aloud as he turned another page. “Especially on brooms. If I remember correctly, that was the only class you did not do well in.”
His comment was not intended to tease. Draco was genuinely curious.
“I try my best to not let my personal preference and discomforts influence strategy planning,” Hermione explained. “I mentally listed every way I know to enter the school and eliminated the ones that won't work for our needs.”
“So Charlie Weasley flew to the tallest tower of Hogwarts to retrieve a baby dragon,” Draco said as he closed the book, giving the curly-haired witch his undivided attention. “That is quite an impressive feat.”
“He was captain of the Gryffindor team and Seeker. Supposedly he had offers to play professionally after Hogwarts, but decided to study dragons instead.”
“Hmm,” was all he said as he shifted uncomfortably.
Draco had not had the opportunity to broach the subject of Theo and his conversation due to the unexpected Horcrux discovery. He wanted to discuss it but didn't know how to bring it up.
Hermione angled her head and gave him a strange look.
“Theo told me about Charlie,” Draco finally blurted out.
His witch blinked up at him, for once lost for words.
“Oh,” was her response after a few moments. “What—” she started, then she shook her head. Hermione shifted position, rolling onto her belly and resting on her elbows to better see his face.
“I figured Theo would tell you eventually, though I'm surprised it was so soon. It's a hard subject for him to discuss,” she said softly.
“I kind of asked about him first,” Draco admitted.
His witch cocked a brow. “What? Why?”
He didn't answer right away, looking away from her questioning gaze.
“Don't tell me you were jealous?”
Draco refused to meet her gaze. Hermione had to grasp his chin and force him to look at her.
“You were!” she exclaimed, her tone half teasing.
He shrugged out of her grasp. “It is a reasonable assumption to make.”
“I never took you for the jealous type.”
“Neither did I,” Draco huffed.
Despite her teasing, his witch looked pleased. It was hard to stay annoyed after that.
Draco pulled her towards him, kissing her deeply. She hummed in satisfaction as her hand dipped under his shirt, fingers brushing up his belly and chest where her palm spread just over his heart. A newly developed habit of late. Feeling the pulse of his heart seemed to ground and calm Hermione.
Far too soon, the kiss turned into softer, more caressive pecks. Hermione gave a small smile then settled her head on his chest, sighing in contentment. Draco could tell she was still exhausted from the late night, so he wrapped his arm around his witch and held her close.
This should have been enough to calm his mind and allow him to drift to a different subject, but the conversation with Theo was still buzzing around in Draco’s brain. The more he tried to not think of it, the more it sprang to the forefront. The wizard tried to contain it within his fortress but it just slipped through a crack, unrelenting and persistent, until he could contain it no more.
“We talked about a fair few interesting things yesterday,” Draco started, too much of a coward to jump right to it.
“I'm sure you both had a lot of catching up to do,” she said sleepily.
Hermione was exhausted. He should leave it be for another day. She will tell him when she’s ready. Draco managed to convince himself to keep quiet.
That is… until she spoke again.
“What else did you guys discuss?”
Everything told him to brush the question off or answer with a nondescript answer. Anything other than what Draco wanted to actually say. But his curiosity won out.
“Theo told me about everything with Charlie and how it all started because of a hero crush,” Draco started.
Hermione chuckled. “He was quite flustered in the beginning. It was adorable.”
The thought of Theo being flustered was comical, but his next sentence killed the humorous atmosphere.
“And then he told me what Charlie rescued him from.”
Draco knew the moment his word's meaning struck home because Hermione tensed.
“W—what do you mean?”
He moved his hand to her side, bushing the lavender patch currently hidden by her jumper.
“I know—” was all Draco could whisper before his witch sat up straight.
Her eyes were wide with terror and she looked ready to bolt but he caught her hand, brushing the back with my thumb.
“It's okay, you don't have to talk about it,” Draco reassured her softly. “That's not what this is. Theo told me so you didn't have to. He thought I could benefit from the knowledge and better understand your condition. Now I know and you don't need to relive it.”
“But I could and will relive it,” Hermione choked out. “The wrong touch or stray memory can trigger an episode at any moment, and there's still the possibility of nightmares. There are fewer of them now, yes, but still they happen.”
Hermione had suffered 3 since they started sleeping in the same bed. Each time Draco woke to her screams and thrashing. Each time he roused her and soothed her until she either fell back to sleep clinging to his arms or sought comfort in a more physical way.
Whatever she needed Draco was more than willing to give…
“And I can't decide if that somehow makes them worse! At least when I had them almost every night, I was used to them. Desensitized to them,” his witch cried and he pulled her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest.
“Now, I can't help but hope the longer I go between episodes or nightmares,” she mumbled into his shirt. “Hope that they are finally gone. But then I'm blindsided by their strength and intensity when it finally does happen. It's a vicious cycle. Being on edge, anticipating the next attack, the slow release of tension and budding hope of never experiencing that trauma again then the brutal pain and devastation when it does.”
Hermione buried her face into Draco’s chest and clung to his shirt. He just held her tight, wishing not for the first time for the ability to take her pain away. Time was the only treatment for cursed muscle memory. As the memory fades, it loses its potency. Hermione’s continued trauma was keeping the initial memory alive.
“Have you ever talked about what happened?” Draco asked.
“No,” she murmured into his chest.
Her answer surprised him.
“Not even with Potter or Weasley? Or any of your other friends? I know things are tense now, but surely back then things were better?”
Might as well get everything cleared and change the subject while in the thick of it…
Hermione shifted and turned her head, pressing an ear to his chest. With a heavy sigh, she said, “Things have been tense well before that. The year on the run and living in the presence of the Horcrux stressed our friendship to the breaking point. Things were said and done that could not be taken back. When we rejoined the Order, we tried to pretend nothing had changed but that wasn't true.”
“Ron’s and mine’s failed attempt at a relationship was like throwing petrol on an already bad situation. Couple that with living in headquarters and everyone starved for some kind of entertainment after years underground, and people started picking sides. I tried to keep our business private, but Ron is a stress-talker. So when things went sour, everyone only had one side of the story. The majority of the Order sided with Ron and that was the start of the wedge.”
She started tracing little random patterns on Draco's shirt with her finger.
“It didn't help that I was constantly challenging the Order leaders. Every decision was too predictable or too safe. Too good. The Death Eaters were out to kill, but our fighters wouldn't even use dark magic to defend themselves. When I started proposing muggle weapons and strategies as an alternative, everyone was in an uproar. Even more so than the suggestion of using dark magic.”
“Honestly, if someone had proposed such a thing to me a year ago, I would have probably reacted the same,” Draco reasoned. “Unfortunately, our prejudices run deep. Only after seeing muggle technology in action and witnessing their effectiveness for myself convinced me.”
“I came to the same conclusion, so I started implementing them in my own missions. That was also when I started learning jiu-jitsu and fighting with knives. It got Shacklebolt’s attention and he told me that he approved of my ideas, but due to his position, he couldn't publicly speak on it. I believe he was sincere in the very beginning. He was the one who proposed I join the strategist team and give my suggestions on a bigger stage. It was working until the Nott estate incident.”
He felt her fist his shirt and took a pained breath.
“It's ok, I'm here if and when you are ready to talk about it,” Draco murmured into her curls, then kissed the top of his witch’s head.
She nodded.
“When Snape brought Theo and I back to headquarters, Shacklebolt was prepared to order Theo’s arrest. Bill and Fleur's death was our first major loss since Moody and the Order members were out for blood. I knew Theo would never get a fair chance, so I requested a bedside meeting with Shacklebolt and told him that I was Imperiused and forced to kill them.”
“Why?” he had to know the answer.
“Snape had told me the reason why Theo had turned spy. He had done so much good for the Order and had gotten hurt because of his assistance, but the other members were prepared to punish him for the failed mission just because of his family name and who his father was. If it got out of what he had done, even under the Imperius curse, it would have gotten ugly. So I twisted the truth. I thought with my own trauma, my contributions to the Order, and my public image, it would be enough to calm the crowd and play into their sympathies. I was wrong.”
Draco felt her tears soak into his shirt but said nothing. He let her talk it out.
“It started with the Weasleys. Things had been off with my relationship with Molly and Arther since Ron and I broke up. Now they blamed me for Bill and Fleur’s death, not just because of the Imperius, but because it was my mission that put them in danger in the first place. Molly was very much against me recruiting both of them, especially when they had a small child. She didn't care that they volunteered for the mission. She rallied the Order against me.”
“Harry, while not vocal about it, sided with them. They were his adopted family. His silence fueled the crowd. The outcry got so bad that I had to be moved out of headquarters for the remainder of my recovery. That was when I moved here. Snape and Charlie, who was the only Weasley to stay by my side, took turns caring for me.”
Hermione wiped the tears but kept talking.
“Shacklebolt suggested I avoid headquarters for a while. Once I fully recovered, he started sending me on missions under the guise of improving my image with the Order. I didn't know until much later that he never publicly reported any of them. He used me to do the jobs no one else would approve of. I was his personal soldier and assassin for years and I was too heartsore to see it.”
Draco sucked in a breath, trying to check the rage coursing through his veins. Hermione hadn’t noticed. She was too lost in her past.
“Then, when Charlie and Theo’s relationship was discovered, I stood beside them. I even went as far as to offer Charlie my couch when his family disowned him. He lived here for a couple of months before he and Theo could set up a safe house of their own. The shirt and sweatpants I gave you that first night were his.”
“After that, the Order labeled me and Charlie as Death Eater sympathizers and put a target on our backs. Charlie was their best-known fighter, so he wasn't as affected. They still needed him. So I became the scapegoat for everything that went wrong, despite the fact that I hadn't been a key strategist in years, and they were careful to keep the whispers from Charlie, Theo, and Snape.”
“I didn't know how completely my reputation had been destroyed until Charlie’s death. I tried to attend the funeral. It was my first visit to headquarters in years, but I wanted to be there for Theo. We were turned away at the door, with Arther Weasley accusing me of killing another of his children the entire time. After that, I uncovered the truth of Shacklebolt's lies and unknowingly being his puppet and scapegoat.”
“I wanted to break from the Order, but there was still a war going on and I would be damned if I let Tom win. So I went rogue and continued to do all the missions and jobs the Order deemed beneath them. But this time I made sure Theo and Snape reported everything to the Order and in a way that couldn't be silenced. They knew of every mission, every objective, and every success. That's part of the reason why Shacklebolt hates Theo so much.”
He felt her smirk against his chest.
“One day they will know everything I have done for the Order. They will know that they only survived because of my efforts.”
Her words were a promise that sent a shiver down Draco’s spine. He wondered what secrets she had hidden up her sleeves. He imagined they were just as dangerous as her blades and that she could wield them just as effectively.
Would his witch ever cease to amaze him?
Draco tilted her chin to look up at him.
“You are truly an unrelenting force of a witch,” he breathed against her lips. “Your dedication and determination matched with your clever mind. Everything you have accomplished and survived. It is both terrifying and awe-inspiring. Maybe, instead of a Dark Lord, what the world needs is a Dark Lady. Or even better... A Dark Queen.”
She smirked at his words. “If I'm the Queen, then what would that make you?”
“The fool lucky enough to worship at your feet,” Draco whispered as he kissed her.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 32: His Witch Ch 32
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 32
It took 3 full days of deliberations. Three days of the Order members shooting down every idea Snape, Theo, or Draco proposed without offering alternatives.
Or at least not any alternatives that warranted any real consideration…
Three days of them dragging their feet on Hermione’s proposed plan until it came down to a vote.
They sat around the same table, in the same seats. Potter and Lupin looked tired. Shacklebolt and the weasel looked smug.
“Those for Hermione’s plan of using brooms to get into Hogwarts,” Potter said plainly.
Snape, Theo, Hermione, and Draco’s hand shot up.
“Put your hand down, Malfoy,” the weasel sneered. “You are not a strategist. Hell, you are not even an official member of the Order. I don't even know why you are allowed to sit at this table.”
“Draco’s contributions have been instrumental to our past and present mission. He signed your pardon,” his witch argued.
“Yes, but nothing in it stated he would become a full-fledged member. He has not sworn an oath, nor will he be allowed to by any active member.” Shacklebolt replied.
Hermione opened her mouth but was cut off by the Order leader. “And as you are not an active member yourself, Hermione, you cannot oath him yourself or recommend him. Neither can Theo or Snape. In fact, his presence here is purely out of consideration for your past efforts as is your vote on this. Continue to argue the point and we will be forced to ask you both to leave and plan this mission without you.”
Her entire body went rigid. Draco reluctantly put his hand down and squeezed her knee under the table.
This was not a battle worth fighting...
His witch seemed to get the message and let out a slow breath.
“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “Let us continue the vote.”
Weasley gave Draco an arrogant grin, which he answered with a glare.
Potter cleared his throat, “Those against the plan?”
Unsurprisingly, Weasley, Lupin, and Shacklebolt’s hands went up.
“It seems that I will be the deciding factor,” Potter said with an exhausted tone as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. Shacklebolt looked smug and Draco realized he had planned this all along.
This was what Snape and Hermione meant by majority rules. Potter was clearly in Shacklebolt’s pocket and would vote the same. This has all been a huge waste of time.
“Then we will continue with Hermione’s plan,” the dark-haired wizard finally said after several long moments.
That—that was not what Draco expected to happen…
And apparently neither did Shacklebolt. His eyes bulged as he grabbed Potter’s arm.
“Harry, that's not what we agreed,” he said tightly.
Potter shook him off. “I agreed to nothing. Hermione’s plan is the only viable option proposed and we cannot afford to waste any more time on your pointless politics.”
Shacklebolt gaped up at Potter, his mouth opening and closing, clearly at a loss for words. Draco wished he had a camera.
“The Order has always gone by majority rules, as you well know, Shacklebolt,” Hermione said, a triumphant grin clear on her face as she used the Order leader’s own words against him. “Surely you are not attempting to circumvent the decision just because you don't agree with the outcome.”
He closed his mouth with an audible snap and turned an impressive shade of red.
It was glorious…
“Now that that is all settled, let us finalize the details,” Hermione said as she removed multiple stacks of parchment and maps from her bag and distributed them to everyone at the table.
After a few more hours of debate, they finally had a plan.
It would take place three days after the start of Christmas break when the majority of students would be home for the holidays. Hermione, Potter, Weasley, and Draco made the team that would infiltrate the school via brooms. Hermione had proposed just the two of them infiltrating the school. Lupin had insisted on a team of 6 or more. This was the compromise.
Their only objective was locating the crown, confirming its status as a Horcrux, and destroying it without being caught.
Lupin was put in charge of the second team, which would serve as a diversion. Consisting of 20 top-Order fighters that would attack Hogsmeade and draw the Death Eaters out of the school.
Once their objective was complete, they would leave the school undetected and signal the diversion team to withdraw. Ideally, everything would be done within a couple of hours with the Death Eaters and the Dark Lord none the wiser and minimal casualties, but his witch was thorough. They discussed any and all possible outcomes.
With all the details sorted and a promise from Lupin to send over his list of chosen fighters, Draco and Hermione went home. The late afternoon streamed through the patio door.
“How long has it been since you flew?” Hermione asked as she stepped towards the kitchen.
“Years,” he answered. “Not since the end of the Quidditch season 5th year.”
She looked at Draco in surprise.
“The Dark Lord doesn't exactly prioritize leisure time for his Death Eaters and neither did my masters,” he drawled.
“Sorry,” she made an apologetic face as she mumbled. “Well, we have two weeks to get you comfortable on a broom again. Come on.”
Draco followed her out of the house and towards the dry old well. After the short walk, she tapped the stones and a ladder appeared. Hermione sat and swung her legs over the stone ledge before descending the metal rungs. He followed her lead. It was not long before he stepped onto the stone floor and turned to witness a giant workshop with several stations. Draco saw an area with multiple weapons racks and another with bits and pieces of muggle tactical armor. The majority of the space was walled off by a clear divider. Behind it was a big empty space with scorch marks on the stone floor and walls.
Not at all what he expected from her workshop…
Hermione stepped over to a cabinet, unlocked it, and pulled out a broomstick before offering it to him. Draco took it, familiarizing himself with the feel of the broom.
It was a Comet 290.
Nothing like his old Nimbus 2001, but not a bad broom.
Draco looked up as she closed the cabinet.
“Where’s yours?” he asked.
“As you so keenly pointed out the other day, flying is not one of my strongest skills.”
“And you just expect me to fly you around like some great lady?” he teased.
She arched an eyebrow.
“Since Ron and I have previous experience with flying tandem, I figured I would just fly with him.”
The image of Hermione pressed into the weasel's back as she held on, or even worse, his witch in front with the oaf’s arms around her, one grasping the broom while the other held her tight against his chest flashed through his mind and Draco's went red.
“If you think for one second I'm going to let that bloody idiot anywhere near you, let alone fly with you, then something has clearly rattled your brain—”
My witch interrupted his rant when she could no longer contain her laughter, a playful glint in her eye and Draco caught onto the wicked little witch’s game.
He pulled her to him, dropping the broom.
“You are trying to make me jealous of the weasel,” Draco breathed in her ear. “Why?”
“Maybe I just like to see a little jealousy from my lover on occasion,” she replied, her voice low.
Draco nearly missed the hint of uncertainty buried under the blatant huskiness and it triggered his own apprehension. This reminded him of how Pansy used to try to make him jealous when she thought Draco didn't care about her.
Did his witch still doubt him?
He threaded his fingers through her curls before fisting them and forcing Hermione to meet my gaze.
“Do you so doubt the depths of my affection that you feel the need to test them?”
Her hesitation spoke volumes.
Draco could understand it. There were so many reasons why this couldn't and shouldn't work.
Their past…
Their vastly different upbringings…
Their roles on opposite sides of this war…
But every day by her side made Draco care less and less about the reasons why this shouldn't work. Hermione had sacrificed so much to ensure he would have a future.
But Draco was only interested in a future as long as she was part of it…
Three words swelled in his chest, bubbled up his throat, and threatened to spill from his lips. Three words she had said to him but Draco had yet to say to her. He swallowed them down and kissed her instead.
They were too simple…
Words were not enough to express what Draco felt for the witch in his arms. She deserved so much more and he had always prided himself on being a man of action. Once the war was over, he would whisk her away. Buy her a house and fill every room with the books she loved.
A place without stress…
Without fighting…
Without pain…
A place where they could live in peace for the rest of their days.
That is what his witch deserved and what he fully intended to provide.
Hermione sucked in a breath as Draco trailed kisses down her throat.
He dug into her jumper, cupping her breast over the soft lace fabric and brushing the tips until her flesh pebbled, before yanking her top over his witch’s head. The action freed her barely contained curls from the hair tie. Draco brushed the thin straps of her black bra off one shoulder, then the other. Reaching behind her back, a simple twist released her breasts from their cloth prison.
“These are mine,” he said as he captured a nipple in his teeth, biting just enough for the breath to hiss out of her. Draco alternated between using his teeth and his tongue, ensuring to give each breast equal attention until his witch was panting for breath.
Draco backed Hermione against a work table and hoisted her onto the surface while scattering the pieces of armor to the floor. He made quick work of her denims, sliding them and her knickers down. Once her legs were free, they sprung open, ready and welcoming. He positioned himself between them, still fully clothed as his fingers danced up her bare thighs, drawn to her core.
His thumb slid over her folds, already soaking wet. As he pressed at her cunt, Hermione moaned, opening her legs wider. Draco circled the entrance to gather her moisture, before seeking the bundle of nerves at her apex. A whimper escaped his witch's lips once he found it.
“This is mine,” Draco said as he slid two fingers into her hot cunt while circling her clit. Hermione’s head fell back, her strangled cry ringing in his ear.
She nodded her head quickly, her eyes widening as he picked up the pace.
“Draco, please. Oh— oh god,” his witch panted and he felt her cunt flutter around his fingers as he nibbled on her ears.
“What, love?” Draco breathed innocently as he stroked just the right spot and her back arched as another cry escaped her lips.
“Fuck!” she moaned as he stroked again and her body grew tighter.
His witch was close.
“I— want you— inside,” she managed to get out. “Please—”
Who was he to deny her request?
Draco slid his fingers out, licking them clean and savoring the taste of her on his tongue. He briefly considered disregarding her pleas and tonguing her cunt until her screams echoed through the chamber, but his impatient witch’s hands were already fumbling with the fastenings of his trousers. Without even waiting for them to fall to the floor, she had his cock in hand and positioned at her core.
Unable to resist such a clear offering, Draco slid in slowly with short shallow thrusts, allowing her wetness to coat his hard length. Her body enveloped him, tight and warm and perfect. Once fully sheathed, Draco rested his head against her shoulder, staying still and just enjoying the feeling of this most intimate connection.
“You are mine,” he mumbled against her skin. “Do you understand?”
His witch nodded her head, shifting her hips to try to get some friction.
“I need you to say it, love,” Draco said softly, willing himself to stay still despite her squirming.
Hermione froze. After a couple of breaths, she pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, like she could understand what Draco had yet to communicate.
“I am yours,” she said softly, her eyes mirroring her words. “And you are mine. Always.”
Then his witch kissed him until their breath became one. Only then did they move. Slow at first, their bodies wrapped around each other, with long languid strokes. The drive to touch every part of her was all-consuming. Draco's hands were everywhere. Tangled in her hair, on her breasts, sliding down her back.
Hermione’s fingers blazed across his skin. Her kiss and touch lit every nerve in his body, searing his skin like a brand and leaving her mark on Draco’s very soul. He did not know where he ended and she began.
Their movements grew more frantic. She met each of his thrusts with equal desperation, chasing a completion only found in each other. Draco moved his hands to her hips, anchoring her to him just as he felt her cunt clench around his cock. He swallowed his witch’s cries as her orgasm ripped through her, pulling him over the edge.
They held each other, sweaty and spent as they both floated back to earth. His witch kissed him sweetly, slowly, savoring the final moments of post-orgasm haze.
“You have a couple more hours of daylight,” Hermione said when she finally pulled away. “You should get some flying practice in before dark.”
Draco nodded his head with a sigh.
She was right…
He gave her one more deep kiss before reluctantly pulling out. Draco mumbled a quick cleaning charm before fixing his trousers and retrieving the broom. He looked over his shoulder to see Hermione, still naked, gathering her discarded garments from around the work area.
Apparently, he had been a bit overzealous in the task of undressing her…
“Need a hand?” Draco offered with a smirk.
“No,” she replied, trying to hide her own amusement as she spied her bra hanging half off a cabinet. She reached on her tiptoes to grab it. “Have a safe flight.”
Draco straddled the broom and kicked off with ease before leaning all the way forward and flying up the narrow well entrance.
Merlin, he missed this…
With the wind blowing through his hair, Draco flew high into the sky, surveying the surrounding area. With only trees as far as his eye could see, their cabin was truly in the middle of nowhere.
A perfect place for flying…
Still, Draco stayed close to the property, practicing dives and turns that he hadn’t done since school. The chances of needing any of them for their flight to Hogwarts Tower were unlikely, but it was a great way to familiarize himself with being on the broom again.
For hours he flew, enjoying the freedom as he dove and dunked around trees until night had fully fallen and his hands were too painfully cold to properly grasp the handle. The cabin glowed in the surrounding darkness like a beacon. Draco landed on the patio and stepped into the welcoming warmth.
Hermione stood at the kitchen table, a letter opened in one hand while offering an owl treat to a bird with her other hand.
Snape’s owl…
His witch sped through the letter, worry clear on her face.
“What’s wrong?” Draco asked, stepping closer.
“Tom has ordered Professor Snape to the continent in search of an expert on wand lore. He doesn’t know how long he will be gone.”
While Snape wasn’t an essential part of the next mission, to be without inside intel during the weeks leading up to it was not a good thing. All because the Dark Lord was obsessed with controlling the supposedly unbeatable wand.
A wand stolen from Dumbledore’s grave.
A wand that had landed right at his feet…
“If only I had grabbed it…”
“Grabbed what?” Hermione asked, startling Draco out of his memories.
He hadn’t even realized he had said the last part aloud.
“Dumbledore’s wand,” Draco answered.
“What do you mean?” his witch asked, putting the letter down and giving him her full attention.
“The night he died, I disarmed Dumbledore. Caught him by surprise right when he landed on the astronomy tower. It landed right at my feet, but I was too nervous to take my eyes off him to pick it up. I can’t help but wonder if we would need to be worried about this wand business if I bothered to pick it up.”
“You disarmed Dumbledore?” Hermione asked slowly and Draco saw what he thought was a flash of horror in her eyes, but they went blank before he could be sure.
“That’s what I just said,” he answered, slightly annoyed.
Her eyes widened.
“Sorry! I wasn’t implying that you couldn’t or were lying about it,” she said quickly. “I was just surprised because neither Snape nor Harry told me that little detail.”
“It happened before Snape showed up, and how would Potter know?”
“It’s not important,” she said, folding the letter and rushing into the bedroom. Draco followed her.
“Severus wants a couple of books on wand lore before he has to leave,” she said over her shoulder as she grabbed a couple of books. “I’ll just run them over there.”
She must be nervous to slip up on Snape’s name…
“I can come with you.”
“No!” she said too quickly. “Er—I mean, you must be exhausted from your flying. You should stay here and get some rest. I won’t be long.”
Draco grabbed her wrist. “What are you hiding?”
“Nothing!”
He glared at her. She met his gaze and let out a sigh.
“Fine… Professor Snape did request books, but I need to discuss something else with him before he goes. Something unrelated that I cannot discuss with you around.”
“More secrets?” Draco grumbled
“A woman will always have her secrets. Mine just happen to be more dangerous than most.” Hermione said before she kissed him. “Trust me to tell you everything when I can and please understand when there is something I can’t.”
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 33: His Witch Ch 33
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
Thank you for reading!
Chapter Text
Chapter 33
Time passed both too quickly and too slowly. Their days were filled again. The mornings were back to combat training but the afternoons were now dedicated to flying practice.
Draco quickly discovered the only thing better than flying alone was flying with his witch…
Hermione sat in front, her small frame fitting snugly between Draco’s thighs as he held her tightly to his chest. She was scared at first, but the more they flew the more comfortable she got, her body relaxing into him.
When she laughed one afternoon after practicing a dodge maneuver and then shyly admitted she enjoyed the ride, Draco nearly fell off the broom. After that, their flights went further and became less about practice and more about enjoying the ride together.
Draco began to suspect the scent of her curls carried on the crisp clean breeze found only in the upper atmosphere might be his new amortentia…
~.~
Too quickly, the mission day dawned. The plan was to infiltrate the school at night, so Draco and Hermione spent the day in bed resting and fucking. Freshly showered and armed to the teeth, they arrived at headquarters at the appointed hour, where the majority of Lupin’s team was assembled.
Draco spotted the she-weasel and her twin brothers along with Longbottom, the oldest Creevey, Finnigan, and Thomas just to name a few. He was also surprised to see Amos Diggory and Professor Flitwick talking on the edge of the group.
They all glared as he and Hermione made their way to Potter and Weasley. She answered Potter’s nod in greeting with a stiff one of her own. The weasel just scowled. Draco did his best to look bored and contain his smile when that seemed to piss off the red-headed wizard more.
He couldn't help but notice that both Potter and Wesley were sporting familiar-looking turtle necks under their robes. Looking at the group, Draco noticed the three Weasleys and Longbottom were wearing the same.
Hermione must have been practicing her armor craft for years…
Draco was distracted when he spied Theo moving through the group towards them.
“You are not part of Lupin’s team, are you?” he asked, surprised to see the healer.
“No,” he answered. “I'm supposed to be dead, so not a good idea to join a mission fighting a bunch of Death Eaters. Besides, my skills will be better utilized here. I came with information and to wish you luck.”
The information part caught Hermione’s attention.
“Snape is back in the country. He arrived early this morning.”
“And his mission for Tom?” she inquired after casting a quick Muffliato.
“He located the scholar. We both spent the day subtly modifying his memories to reflect what we wanted the Dark Lord to hear. Snape just left to present him.”
“That's a tricky bit of Legilimency,” Draco commented. “Why didn't you request my help as well? The more mental signatures, the less likely the Dark Lord will suspect something.”
“Who said we didn't try?” Theo said with a smirk. “But your wards were locked tight. Obviously, you two didn't want any interruptions.”
He waggled his eyebrows while giving Hermione a knowing look, which caused his witch to blush.
“You could have sent an owl!” she commented.
“It's fine, we got the job done. Besides, if today is a success then the Dark Lord will be too distracted to look properly and we will be one step closer to killing the bastard.”
Before Draco could comment further, Shacklebolt arrived and started a speech about a successful mission and how light always wins. He tuned the winded speech out, instead turning his attention to the witch at his side. Draco found her looking at him too.
‘Are you ready for this?’ she spoke directly into his mind.
‘With you by my side, I'm ready for anything,’ he replied.
‘I love you, Draco.’
The words burned on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them down. Instead, Draco took her hand and kissed her knuckles, willing his eyes to portray what his tongue could not.
When the war is over and they are both free, Draco would tell her…
Untroubled by his silence, Hermione smiled up at him before turning away from Shacklebolt. Their team would leave first, as they had the farthest to travel. Draco followed her with Potter and Weasley close behind him as Hermione led them outside of the wards.
Without a word, she took his hand and apparated to the clearing. It was situated on the very edge of the Forbidden Forest, opposite Hogwarts, and would take about half an hour to fly from. As long as they maintained altitude, the forest residents should not notice them.
Potter and Weasely both pulled out their brooms from their extended pockets. Hermione did the same along with a couple of vials of potion. She handed the potions to Potter and then the broom to Draco. Potter took it without a word, downed one vial, and pocketed the rest. After a moment his features started to change.
Polyjuice potion…
It appeared that the rumors of Potter staying underground because he was too much of a coward were false. Given the ease with which he drank the vile potion, it was clear this was a common occurrence for him. Likely another one of Hermione’s bright ideas.
His clever witch…
Draco watched as Potter’s hair lengthened and lightened to blonde, his skin turned tan, his nose grew wide and his eyes darkened to brown. The new face was not familiar to him.
After a minute, blonde Potter asked, “Where’s your broom, Hermione?”
“I'm flying with Draco,” was her reply as she watched him straddle the broom.
Draco held his arm out so she would stay steady as she swung her leg over the handle, then wrapped the same arm around her waist, holding her tight against him. Weasley glared at them as he mounted his broom, but wisely said nothing. Once Potter mounted his, they took off into the dark sky. They didn't dare risk a light, so their only guide was the distant glow of Hogsmeade.
The night air was calm but bone-chilling cold. His witch huddled close while wandlessly casting a warming charm on them both. Draco heard Potter and Weasley doing the same before they flew in complete silence as the dark silhouette of the castle drew closer.
It was the longest flight of his life, each second creeping by as the trees passed below. Draco’s heart pounded in his ears as they approached their destination.
Something about this mission felt different, and not just because they had to work with the Order. The feeling of change, or maybe fate, was heavy in the air.
Like they were approaching something… final.
This was a turning point, though to what had yet to be decided. Whatever it was set Draco’s whole body on edge and he could tell his witch felt it too. She was twitchy and restless.
With Hogwarts looming before them, the group started to ascend. A loud commotion briefly drew their attention to Hogsmeade. Lupin had begun the attack, which meant they were right on schedule. They watched the Death Eaters charge out of the castle by their glowing wands.
No turning back now…
They landed on the tallest tower without issue. After stashing their brooms, Hermione and Draco cast disillusionment charms while Weasley and Blonde Potter ducked under his recently returned cloak. Wand in one hand he took Hermione’s hand in the other and led the group through the familiar halls.
The castle was silent. They didn't cross a soul in the halls, not even one of its numerous ghostly residents. As they approached the 7th-floor corridor, Draco dedicated his thoughts to finding the Room of Lost Things. Though he had summoned it a hundred times before, he still breathed a sigh of relief when they turned the corner and saw the familiar door.
Once inside the group released the charms and became visible again. Potter stashed his cloak and led the way through the twisting piles of random items, the weasel close behind.
Hermione was ahead of him. Her first time in this version of the room, Draco saw her fingers grazing longingly over the spines and covers of ancient books as they passed. This place had to be more tempting than a bookstore to his book-loving witch.
Last in the line, Draco started to discreetly shove the volumes Hermione lingered on in his expanded pocket. She was much too noble to consider doing such a thing herself.
It will be a nice surprise for later…
They passed the smashed remains of the vanishing cabinet, destroyed by an impulsive and paranoid Greyback back in 6th year to ensure no one followed them to Hogwarts.
Two more turns then the cabinet and stone bust appeared, the ancient diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw perched precariously on its head. Collectively they released a breath.
It was still there…
Blonde Potter reached for the crown and as soon as his fingers wrapped around the metal, he said, “It's a Horcrux.”
“How can you possibly know that?” Draco asked aloud. Hermione had never explained it to him.
To his surprise, Potter answered. “When Tom tried to kill me as a baby and failed, he inexplicably linked us. I can sense his presence, on rare occasions even his thoughts. I can feel his essence in this crown.”
That should not be possible…
“That is… disturbing,” Draco replied. “Another reason why I'm glad I'm not you, Potter.”
Weasley stiffened, but before he could say something Potter interrupted him.
“Can't say I disagree with you, Malfoy.”
That was… unexpected.
Wait… did Potter and Draco just have a moment?
Based on the shocked and disgusted look on the weasel’s face and the amused one on Hermione’s face, yes they did.
Bloody hell…
“Well now we have confirmation, we need to destroy it,” Hermione stated, bringing them back to the task at hand. “Did you bring the sword?”
Potter and Weasley made a face.
“Griphook lost patience and demanded his payment,” Weasley said gravely.
“You didn’t! The agreement was he would get the sword after the end of the war and not a moment before!”
“He knew about the Horcrux hunt,” Potter explained. “I don't know how, but he threatened to take the information to Tom if we didn't hand it over. He gave us no other choice.”
Hermione had told Draco about the sword of Gryffindor. This was a huge and unexpected blow.
“You did have a choice,” he snarled. “You could have killed him. Can't collect payment when you are dead. Now we have no way to destroy the Horcrux.”
Potter and Weasley looked outraged. Hermione’s passive face said she agreed with him.
“You didn't use the sword to destroy the cup!” Weasley argued.
“No… Fiendfyre did that,” Draco seethed. “Fiendfyre that we did not cast. Fiendfyre that almost killed Hermione. Or did you forget about that already? It is dangerous and immensely unpredictable. So if that was your plan for the crown then please excuse my witch and me as we get as far away as possible and forgive us when we don't save your ass from burning.”
He stepped closer to Hermione, fully intent on getting her to safety and leaving the two idiots to their own devices but she stood her ground.
“You should just let me blow it up,” Hermione said matter of fact.
“W—what?!?” Draco sputtered.
She fished a familiar white brick out of her pocket.
Of course, she brought explosives….
“Is that your answer for everything?” Weasley asked, annoyed and astonished. “You can't solve every problem with explosives.”
“I would argue that is not true. Everything can be solved with the right amount of C4.”
Merlin, his witch was dead serious.
Draco couldn't believe he actually agreed with the weasel on something…
But, before the arguing could continue, Blonde Potter held up his hands.
“No one is casting Fiendfyre,” he said in an authoritative voice looking at his best friend, then turned to Hermione. “And we are not attempting explosives.”
“But Harry, I've done all the calculations—”
“I do not doubt your calculations, Hermione,” Potter interrupted. “I'm sure explosives could destroy the physical vessel, but what about the soul fragment? Have you tested explosives on that?”
Hermione’s mouth fell open, then she closed it and shook her head.
“We can't risk losing the fragment and it latching onto a new unknown vessel,” Potter continued. “It needs to be destroyed in one go.”
The world had to be ending…
How was Potter making more sense than the cleverest witch of their age?
And Draco was agreeing with him!
“So how do we destroy it then?” he asked, desperate to not dwell on what just happened.
“The whole reason why the sword of Gryffindor worked was because it was infused with basilisk venom. There just so happens to be a basilisk skull filled with fangs hidden in the school’s secret basement and I’m one of the few people that can open it.”
Chapter 34: His Witch Ch 34
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 34
Potter pocketed the crown and drank another polyjuice. No one knew how long their basement detour would take…
Hermione, Weasley, and Draco cast another disillusionment before stepping out into the corridor. Potter had lagged a moment behind to pull on his cloak, which was lucky because the second they three stepped out into the hall a shrill voice screamed “Revelio!”, effectively dispelling their disillusionment charms. Immediately once they were visible, two others screamed “Stupefy!” and a bright red light hit him in the face.
The world went dark.
Alecto Carrow sneering down at him was the first thing Draco saw when he came to.
“Blood traitor,” she hissed, spitting on him. He tried to hit her, but Draco was restrained in a full-body bind. She smirked and stepped away, revealing Dolores Umbridge standing beside Hermione.
The toad of a witch held his unconscious witch up by her hair, her wand pointing at her face.
“My, my, Draco,” Umbridge tsked. “How very disappointed I am. You showed so much promise as a member of my Inquisitorial Squad. With your family name and the special education the Dark Lord afforded you, you could have been the very best of us. But instead, you threw it all away. And for what? Not just any Mudblood, but the filthiest of them all.”
The vile witch murmured Crucio and despite being unconscious, Hermione started twitching. Rage filled him as Draco tried to fight against his locked muscles but the spell held and all he could do was glare at the headmistress.
“Truly disappointing,” she said, releasing the spell and dropping his witch to the hard floor.
Draco surveyed his surroundings. Weasley was not far from him, also unconscious. Potter was nowhere to be seen. The Carrows were standing off to the side, whispering to each other.
Umbridge crouched beside him, close enough that he could make out the tiny bow at the top of her head that perfectly matched the disgusting pink color of her robes. The years had made her look even more toad-like.
“I never could figure out the trick to that room,” she said, eyeing the blank wall. “But when the Dark Lord tasked me with the care of this school, he told me to pay special attention to this corridor. So I set special wards on that wall specifically to notify me if anyone crosses it.”
She turned her beady eyes towards him. “So imagine my surprise when they go off the very night that the Order attacks Hogsmeade. Clearly a diversion. So I requested the assistance of my two most loyal teachers and waited, only to discover that two blood traitors and the world's most famous Mudblood had infiltrated my school.”
She leaned closer, her sickly sweet perfume choking Draco.
Where was Potter?!?
“Tell me why you broke into my school. What is so special about that room that even the Dark Lord is concerned?” she demanded.
He felt the magic binding creep down his neck, releasing his jaw.
“We just wanted to revisit the place of so many happy memories. One tends to get nostalgic for happier times after so many years of war,” Draco replied with a sneer.
Pain shot through his body. The familiar skin peeling, nerve-frying pain of Crucio. It lasted several minutes as he panted for breath.
“If you won't tell me, I'll get it out of your Mudblood whore,” the toad-faced witch threatened.
“Good luck with that,” Draco said as he spat blood out of his mouth. He must have bit his tongue during the curse. “She survived hours of the Dark Lord’s attention. Anything after that is child’s play.”
Umbridge’s face broke into a big, unsettling smile. “Is that so? Well then, I guess we will have to jump straight to the main event. The Dark Lord did order me to call him immediately if anyone attempted to enter this room and I do look forward to what he will do with you and your precious Mudblood. I expect it will be quite entertaining.”
She pulled her sleeve up and pressed her wand into the mark.
No…
Draco’s bravado was supposed to take the focus off Hermione and have the foul witch intent on torturing him. Now the Dark Lord would come to Hogwarts.
They were so fucked…
Suddenly out of the dark someone screamed 3 rapid-fire stunning spells. The three Death Eaters fell to the ground and blonde Potter appeared, murmuring the counter spell over him before going to revive the weasel.
“Where were you?” Draco demanded as he sat up, retrieved his wand from the toad, and went to revive his witch.
“Got caught by one of the stunners,” he panted. “Luckily when I fell, I remained under the cloak. I only came to moments ago.”
Draco mumbled the counter spell and Hermione’s eyes popped open.
“Draco?”
“Come on love, we have to get out of here.” He helped Hermione to her feet.
“What happened?”
“The crazy bint had the corridor warded to notify her of intruders.” Draco kicked the unconscious witch in the rib. “She was waiting when we stepped out and stunned us. I got it in the face, so the armor didn't protect—”
Potter hissed, clutching his head.
“You alright, Harry?” asked the newly revived weasel.
It was a few moments before Potter shook his head.
“Tom is coming here,” he answered, looking at them all.
“What? How?” Hermione asked panicked.
“Umbridge was able to send out a summons for the Dark Lord before Potter knocked her out,” he explained.
“Between the attack on Hogsmeade and now an intruder in the school, Tom has finally realized we might be hunting Horcruxes,” Potter said gravely. “He’s calling all his followers. He’s going to order them to secure the school.”
“Then we need to get out of here,” Draco said quickly. He didn't want his witch anywhere near the castle when the Dark Lord arrived. “We can destroy the Horcrux later. Hell, I'll even donate half the Malfoy vaults to purchase basilisk venom elsewhere. We cannot be here when he arrives.”
She took his offered hand and they started to move towards the way they came.
“Hermione.”
Potter’s voice was low, yet the tone was urgent enough to make them both stop. Draco held her hand tighter, dread settling in his belly as they turned.
“He’s bringing the snake.”
Fuck…
“If we destroy the crown, then only the snake remains. If we walk away from this opportunity, he will discover the others are destroyed and we will never get another chance. He will hide the snake, never to be seen again.”
Draco saw the clear look of determination on his witch’s face.
“We could end it tonight. Right here, right now.”
Double fuck…
“What do we need to do?” Hermione asked.
Potter looked relieved and Draco tried to not let his desperation show.
“We need to get everyone from the Order here to secure the castle. This will be where we make our final stand. You, Ron, and Malfoy go meet Lupin’s team. I'm sure they are confused as to why all the Death Eaters suddenly disappeared. Then send a message to every member capable of fighting to get here ASAP. I will go to the chamber and retrieve the fangs and meet back up with you.”
“You can't risk destroying the Horcrux alone, they tend to fight back when threatened.” Hermione reasoned. “Take Ron with you. Draco and I will go meet Lupin.”
“I don't know if that's the best idea. They don't trust Malfoy and everyone is… tense when it comes to you. Especially Kingsley.”
“Fine, then I'll go with you. Draco and Ron can go meet with Lupin.”
“Aint bloody happening,” Weasley protested the same moment Draco said, “Hell fucking no!”
Hermione glared at them like two misbehaving children.
“Then Draco will go with Harry and Ron will come with me to meet Lupin.”
He opened his mouth to object, but Potter interrupted by saying, “That's fine.”
“What?!” the weasel sputtered. “Harry, you can’t trust him! He’s a Death Eater!”
“Was a Death Eater,” was Potter’s unexpected reply. “Malfoy has demonstrated what team he fights for now and I’ll trust him to watch my back if only because it gets him back to Hermione’s side sooner.”
Weasley and Draco both gaped at him as blonde Potter started walking away.
“Are you coming, Malfoy?”
He looked between Potter’s retreating back and his witch, who nodded encouragingly, then growled in frustration as he followed the wizard.
“Make sure to do something with the toad and her cronies,” Draco called over his shoulder.
This was not how he expected the evening to go…
Potter led him down the changing stairs and various corridors. The castle was now a flurry of activity as the few remaining students roamed the halls scared and teachers who were not Death Eaters tried to establish calm. No one paid them any mind.
Their journey ended earlier than expected, not in the dungeon as Draco anticipated, but at the all too familiar door of the second-floor girls' lavatory.
Myrtle’s bathroom.
And the place where Potter almost killed him in 6th year.
“Is this some kind of joke?” he asked as the polyjuiced wizard opened the door.
“What? That the entrance of Salazar Slytherin’s dreaded chamber of secrets is located in a girl’s lavatory? Or that we are both here, after all these years, and not trying to kill each other?”
“Well, when you say it like that…”
Still, Draco hesitated to step into the room. Hesitated to trust the wizard in front of him and show him his back. Potter must have sensed his reluctance.
“I promise to get you back to Hermione in one piece,” he said as he relented and stepped in first. “She scares me more than Tom does.”
Draco couldn't help the chuckle that escaped his lips as he followed him in. “Me too.”
The bathroom was exactly as he remembered it. As Potter went straight to the sinks, Draco turned to face the ghost girl who floated out of the stalls.
“Boys are not allowed in here! Especially this late at—” she stopped mid-sentence. “Draco!? Draco Malfoy is that you!”
“Hello, Myrtle.”
“Why you haven't visited me in ages!” her eyes grew big and she pouted her lips.
“I graduated, Myrtle,” he reasoned. “You know we are not allowed back in the school after that.”
“You are here now.”
“Extenuating circumstances. My— cohort here needs to access the hidden entrance.”
“Only parsel mouths can open it. Is your friend a parsel mouth?”
“He’s not my friend, but yes he is.”
“Oh, that's good! The last parsel mouth who opened it was that awful Harry Potter. You know, the one that almost killed you? He was a nasty piece of work. This one looks a lot nicer.”
Draco fought to suppress a chuckle. “I would say they are about the same.”
Potter snorted. Myrtle looked confused.
“It was a pleasure seeing you again Myrtle,” Draco said as he turned away.
“I hope extenuating circumstances bring you back to my bathroom again, Draco Malfoy.”
Not likely, because come the end of the war, he will be exiled from the country…
Potter had opened the entrance to the chamber while Draco spoke with Myrtle. He peered disbelieving down the gaping hole.
“This deep hole leads to the Chamber of Secrets? How are we supposed to get down there? I don't feel like breaking a leg or my neck attempting to jump.”
“That's it, and I hope you brought your broom because you are not riding with me…” Potter said as he pulled out his firebolt.
The orange handle reminded him of a question he had thought of earlier but didn't bother to ask.
“I heard you lost your trunk of possessions during the battle of seven Potters. Is this a new one?”
Potter’s eyes grew distant. “I did and no it's not a new one. Hermione snuck out the next day and found it with magic, along with Hedwig’s cage. She got in a lot of trouble with Mrs. Weasley and Kingsley about it.”
“You guys don't deserve her…” Draco said softly.
Potter bristled. “Neither do you…”
“I know,” he admitted. “But the difference between us is that I'm trying to be better for her. To hopefully be worthy of her one day. You and your lot turned your back on her. Straight abandoned her.”
“It's more complicated than that,” Potter barked back. “And this is not a conversation I'm willing to have, especially not with you.”
A wave of anger washed over him. Draco wanted to hit Potter so badly. To avenge his witch and his treatment of her.
But they had a job to do and the sooner they finished it the sooner he would be back at Hermione’s side. Thoughts of her were enough to quell the rage and he pulled the broom from his pocket.
“Let's go.”
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 35: His Witch Ch 35
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 35
The Chamber of Secrets was not what Draco expected. Dark and damp with everything covered in green goo. The most impressive thing was the giant basilisk skull.
“You seriously expect me to believe that you killed this beast of a creature by yourself when you were 12 years old?” He said in complete disbelief. “I'm not buying it.”
“I had help from Fawkes. Without the sorting hat, or his healing tears, I would have died,” Potter reasoned.
“You think having assistance from a Phoenix and pulling a sword from a magic talking hat makes your story more believable?”
“Believe what you want, Malfoy. I really don't care.”
Potter circled the beast’s head.
Draco continued to stare at it in both awe and disgust. This was the creature his father saw fit to release on the Muggle-borns of Hogwarts. Literal children that had done nothing wrong. Punished only because of the circumstances of their birth.
“Are you going to help, or just keep staring and being useless?” Potter’s complaint startled him back to reality.
He was trying to wiggle one of the fangs out of its socket, while carefully avoiding the tip.
If that's how he planned to do it, they would be here for hours…
“Why don't you use a blade to pry it out?’ Draco asked as he pulled one of his and approached the other side.
“Sorry, I left my collection of daggers in my other trousers,” Potter replied snidely.
“Hermione was generous enough to gift you not one but two armor sets and you have the nerve to have an attitude.”
Potter stopped what he was doing. “Wait… you know about the armor sets?”
“Yeah,” Draco said matter of fact. “I'm wearing one of my own.
He tugged at the collar to demonstrate.
“How?” Potter demanded. “It took her almost a full year to complete ours and wait a minute…Multiple?!? I only have one.”
“I only have one, and I’m not sure Hermione slept much the first few months…” was the only thing Draco could think to reply. “If you only have one then why did you say you left your knives in your other trousers?”
“I was being sarcastic.” Then he glared at him with a hint of envy. “Are you saying that yours have knives?”
Draco could have just said yes, but instead, he unsheathed the one in his sleeve with a flick of his wrist.
Potter’s mouth fell open.
“The pockets can also be used for wands,” he said while demonstrating by performing a wand move he had been practicing. Draco twirled his wand nimbly around his fingers then after a couple of turns, easily slid it into the hidden pocket.
Yes… he was showing off a bit Hermione would probably reprimand him, saying now was not the time, but Draco couldn't help.
But he wasn't without mercy and Draco offered the other wizard one of his blades. Potter took it, pried the fang from the base of the skull, and offered it back.
“Keep it. I have 6 more.”
The jealousy on Potter’s face was well worth it.
Potter decided to grab the rest of the venom-filled fangs to use against the snake. Together they made quick work of the remaining two. Then Potter pulled the diadem out of his pocket and put it on the floor.
“Care to do the honors?” he offered, stepping back.
“What? Don't you want to do it?”
Potter shook his head. “I’ve got this feeling that you should do it.”
“That is the lamest excuse I've ever heard. If you don't want to do the work, just say so.”
Retrieving one of the fangs, Draco clenched it tight as he knelt next to the crown.
“Be careful,” Potter warned. “They tend to fight back when threatened. The diary tried to kill me and the locket tried to use Ron’s fears and self-doubt. Who knows what the crown will do.”
“Ah, so your whole, ‘I got this feeling’ thing was just self-preservation,” he grumbled. “No problem with risking my neck.”
Potter opened his mouth to argue, but then closed it and shrugged. Draco shook his head as he lifted the fang.
Better to just get it over with…
Draco tried to stab the crown with all his strength but encountered unexpected resistance an inch from the center. The blue gem flashed red beneath the tip.
Draco Malfoy, a smooth voice spoke into his mind.
His first instinct was to wall himself off, but its next words were comforting and reassuring.
Poor soul. No father, no mother. No one to comfort and protect from the harsh reality of this world. And oh how you have suffered. So many lies, betrayals, and pain. And now, led with deceit down the wrong path and surrounded by enemies…
The Order were his enemies. Draco knew he could not trust them, but Hermione—
The witch that is responsible for all your pain and suffering? Everything started with her. Your father’s disappointment stemmed from her excelling past you in class. His arrest was a result of her and her friend's meddling. His death is on her hands.
No… the Dark Lord killed his father and destroyed his mother—
As a result of her careless actions. If the Mudblood had not meddled in things above her capacity and blood status, you would still have a family, you would not have been sent away as punishment and suffered at the hands of your dark and twisted masters. You would have been happy and whole and your family favored by the Dark Lord.
None of that was her fault… she was just doing her best and trying to survive… Hermione was remorseful and saved him…
Saved you? She manipulated and lied to the Dark Lord, deceiving him into believing you were a traitor when you were one of his most loyal subjects. As a result, you lost your status, your fortune and smudged your family's good name.
Potter was shouting something, but Draco could not make out the words. His arms were so tired, that he wanted to drop them.
Then she lured you in with her siren call and turned you into a soldier for the enemy. Her manipulations resulted in the death of your remaining family. Your aunt and uncle’s blood now stain your hands, further isolating you.
No… Hermione loves him—
Her kind has no soul and is incapable of love. It is all lies to further bind you to her will. Her only desire was to subjugate a prince of the Sacred 28. To twist and corrupt you with her foul blood, all for her own amusement. You are a means to an end. The second you are no longer useful, she will destroy you fully.
Destroy him…
I can help you. I can free you. Just let me in.
The offer was so tempting…
Draco shut his eyes. He was so tired. Tired of war, tired of fighting.
Tired of life…
I will take care of everything. You don't need to fear the Mudblood girl any longer. She cannot touch you.
Touch him...
The words triggered a flood of memories of a curly-haired witch pressing a hand to Draco’s chest, just above his heart. Of the same witch stretching on her tiptoes to kiss him sweetly. Oh her golden brown eyes looking up at him, overflowing with emotion, as her mind touched his.
‘I love you, Draco’
Not just any witch… his witch…
No!
“Hermione Granger chose me, saved me. She loves me,” Draco said aloud, attempting to drown out the screaming in his skull. “And I love her. Our love is not a manipulation or a lie.”
The fang moved closer to the now fully red gem. Draco nearly dropped it in surprise, but he managed to hold firm. The tip crept slowly closer, and the screaming grew louder. He thought his head would split right when the venom-tipped fang touched the stone.
It cracked, the world went silent, and then an invisible force pushed Draco back. A blood-curdling scream echoed through the chamber, forcing him to cover his ears. After a few moments, the ringing ceased and he realized there was silence again. Cautiously removing his hands, Draco sat up.
Potter sat across from him, his eyes on the crown between them. The gem was flat and dull, with a large crack across its center. The magical luster was gone, the metal tarnished and dusty. Now it just looked like an ancient useless artifact.
No better than trash.
“Is it done?” Draco asked, his voice shaky.
He was not touching that thing…
Potter reached out hesitantly. When his finger grazed the blackened metal, he nodded his head.
“It is dead,” he breathed.
Draco let out a sigh of relief. Then he turned on Potter.
“Your warning was absolute rubbish! That thing almost possessed me!”
“What part of ‘it tried to kill me’ did you not understand?” He argued. “And I think it did manage to possess you. For a split second your eyes went black, you looked up at me and smirked.”
“Why didn't you pull me away, or knock me out or something?”
“I tried! A barrier surrounded you and the crown that I couldn't break. I could hear everything the crown said to you, but you couldn’t seem to hear me.”
Draco scrubbed his face with his hands. That had been too close for comfort…
“I did hear you shouting, but couldn't make out any words or anything over the voice in my head.” Then Draco stopped talking and uncovered his face to look at Potter. “Wait… what do you mean you could hear what was going on inside the barrier?”
“I heard everything the diadem said to you clear as day. But you say it spoke in your mind? Odd. You were completely silent though. I was preparing to fight you until your heartfelt declaration at the end.”
“My what?!”
Potter smirked. “It was quite sweet actually. Too bad Hermione wasn't here to witness it. Maybe I'll gift her the memory.”
Fucking Harry Potter knew the depths of his feelings for his witch before Hermione did… and he was teasing Draco about it…
“If you tell anyone about this, Potter, I promise to give you a full demonstration of my education over the past 7 years.”
“Relax, Malfoy. Your secret is safe with me.” blonde Potter gave him a sidelong glance. “But I'm going to guess, based on your reaction, that Hermione doesn't know how you feel about her. Am I right?”
Draco did not answer.
“I can not believe I am about to offer Draco Malfoy relationship advice. And don't think it's because I approve of your relationship with Hermione, because I don't. She can do so much better than you, but she clearly cares for you for some unknown reason. After everything she has done and suffered through these past years, Hermione deserves to be happy. Even if it's with you.”
“Do you have a point? Because if you are just going to keep bashing me, I'm going to leave.”
“Yes, I have a point and it's simple. Don't wait to tell her how you feel. You are probably waiting for the perfect moment, or because you are scared, or maybe for the end of the war. Don't wait. Neither of your lives is guaranteed. You will regret it if you don't tell her and you die.”
Draco shifted uncomfortably.
“I will take it under advisement.”
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 36: His Witch Ch 36
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 36
Potter gathered the discarded crown and fang in silence. With their task completed, it was time to get back to the Order and prepare for the Dark Lord’s arrival. They flew back up the passage to the girl's lavatory, but as they landed and stowed away their brooms, the whole building shook.
“What the bloody hell was that?”
Blonde Potter shook his head. He was just as clueless.
“The Death Eaters have infiltrated the school,” Moaning Myrtle answered as she floated through the wall. “They brought Giants, big spiders, and all manner of creatures.”
“They are already here?” Potter asked in alarm. “What about the Order members?”
“More arriving every minute. Many have joined with the teachers and even some of the students fighting in the hallway but the majority are fighting in the front courtyard,” The ghost answered.
“I'm going to find Hermione,” Draco said as he dashed to the door. He opened it, and was ready to rush out, but closed it when he saw what was in the hall. The blonde wizard braced his back against the door as he cast wards.
“What is it? What's wrong?” Potter asked panicked.
“They have a cave troll,” Draco managed to grunt out just before something heavy hit the door. Hard.
The door was not going to hold…
“We can’t get trapped here.”
Another bang on the door.
“I don't think it's trying to trap us, Potter. I think it's more interested in bashing our skulls in.”
Another bang proved his point.
“We can't just sit here!”
“Obviously not,” Draco ground through his teeth. “So unless you have some plan to get us out of this mess, shut up and let me think!”
Potter’s mouth closed with an audible snap as Draco racked his brain for all information pertaining to trolls.
Low intelligence. Thick skin resistant to magic. Every subset has a different weakness, such as desert trolls are weak against cold, forests are afraid of fire, cave trolls are sensitive to bright light…
Cave trolls are sensitive to light!
“Potter, I'm going to open this door. When I do, I need you to cast the brightest lumos you can.”
“How is that going to help?”
“Don't ask questions! Just do it!”
Another bang. This one caused the door to crack.
“Ready?”
Potter still looked reluctant but nodded his head.
Draco waited for the next bang. The door almost buckled.
“Now!” He swung the door open and the grey-skinned troll towered over us, his club raised over his head.
“Lumos!”
Draco shielded his eyes just as Potter’s spell blazed in the monster's face. The creature moaned in pain and he heard the club clatter to the ground. He looked up to see it stumble, its head tossed back as it rubbed at its blinded eye.
Giving him a perfect shot at the soft under the chin.
Draco pointed his wand at the weak point. “Penetralis Aerum!”
A thin jet of air shot out of his wand, piercing the soft, thinner flesh under the troll’s jaw and blowing what little brains it possessed across the ceiling. The lumbering corpse fell backward.
“What… what was that?” Potter panted.
“One of the tricks I picked up during my studies abroad. Now let's go!”
Draco darted around the dead troll and down the corridor, Potter on his heels. They passed several altercations and paused only long enough to disable the Death Eaters.
That is until they came across Longbottom facing off against two masked Death Eaters Draco did not recognize. He was holding his own surprisingly well, but the enemy spells were all aimed to maim or kill while Longbottom was only defending or attempting to stun.
Draco changed course, rushing towards them, and slashed his wand while their backs were still turned, “Septumsempra!”
The spell decapitated one but slashed across the upper back of the other so he pulled a blade and stabbed it into the injured enemy’s neck as he fell to his knees.
Longbottom blinked in surprise. “Malfoy?!?”
Draco met his astonished gaze as he wiped his blade on the dead wizard's robe before sheathing it.
“If you want to live to see your wife again and witness the birth of your spawn, stop pulling your punches. The Death Eaters will always aim to kill. If you must offer any kind of mercy, do it with a quick and clean death.”
“T—thanks,” Longbottom muttered.
“Have you seen Hermione?”
“She was fighting in the courtyard last I saw her.”
Draco nodded his head in thanks before turning back to Blonde Potter, who was gaping at him.
“Why did you help him?” he asked as they continued their way to the castle entrance.
“Would you rather I left your friend to die?”
“No. I am grateful you saved him, but I am curious why.”
Draco almost didn't answer him.
“Lovegood has suffered enough.”
Potter said nothing, just gave him a weird sideways look. Draco huffed in annoyance as he continued towards the stairs and his companion jogged behind him to catch up.
They found his witch on the grand staircase fighting alongside Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick against Greyback and a few of his pack. They were protecting a few younger students frozen in fear on the steps.
“Bombarda!”
Draco’s spell blasted the wolf men back and Hermione spun on her heel.
“Draco?”
Professor McGonagall finished dispatching Greyback and his pack while Flitwick got the terrified students to safety.
Their old transfiguration teacher was surprisingly ruthless, turning their unconscious bodies into bugs and squashing them under her boot. It was impressive.
“Miss me, lover?” he asked, turning back to his witch with a smirk.
She made a face but reached for him all the same.
“Is it done?” she asked, her eyes shifting between Draco and Potter.
Potter nodded his head. “It’s done.”
Hermione let out a sigh of relief.
“Where are Ron and Ginny?” Potter asked.
“Last I saw them, they were fighting in the courtyard along with Fred and George,” She answered.
“How did Tom’s forces get here so quickly?”
“Tom must have summoned them to the Forbidden Forest. They all started coming out of the trees unexpectedly and he must have had this planned for a very long time because the Death Eaters were efficient. Thankfully the Order members started to arrive at the same time, otherwise, we would have been overwhelmed.”
“Any sign of the snake or the Dark Lord?” Draco asked.
Hermione shook her head. She opened her mouth to speak but another wave of enemies surged through the door.
A few of them charged at Draco, calling him a traitor. His witch stood at his side as they engaged the enemy. He dispatched his first opponent with a blood-freezing spell that he had learned in northern Russia before pushing him down the stairs, where the frozen body shattered into a million pieces, tripping the approaching soldiers. The next one fell to Draco’s blade as he tried to charge Hermione while she was fighting another of Greyback’s pack.
The next Death Eater died from blood loss as a million cuts split his skin. It was the same spell that had sliced Draco’s lip, Armida’s specialty, only multiplied a hundred times.
One by one Draco used every spell he had learned from every dark master. He drove Yaxley insane with the spell that forced him to experience every spell his wand had cast in the last month. It was easy to guess who replaced him as the Dark Lord's interrogator. Rookwood died after a combination of skin-peeling charms flayed him alive. A foot soldier was dispelled with a perfectly placed TeleBombarda from inside his skull. Then he dispatched a cluster of giant spiders with a tamer and more controllable version of Fiendfyre.
The pile of bodies grew as the four of them held the line. Snape’s culling of the Dark Lord's ranks these past months had been effective. Most were nameless cronies Draco did not recognize and were obviously very green.
Flitwick returned to assist but was struck down by a stray killing curse. McGonagall’s retribution was swift and brutal.
Draco was actually excited when he spied Dolohov entering the hall. He even went as far as to call him over. As predicted, the older Death Eater couldn’t back down from a challenge. Immobilizing the dark wizard was child’s play and Draco gave him a taste of his own spell, slicing him exactly as he had cut his witch but only after introducing him to a concentrated acid spell he learned in Greece.
Draco left Dolohov to die in a puddle of melted skin and blood.
Potter surprised him. Most of his fighting was defensive, disarming, and stunners.
Exactly what Draco would expect from him…
Until his former rival went up against Umbridge. Then Draco saw a different side to him. His rage was palpable as Potter blasted and sliced at her defenses. And the best part was he was still Polyjuiced so the toad didn’t recognize him.
When he finally wore her down and got in her face, Draco wasn’t far away. He heard the Polyjuiced wizard whisper “I must not tell lies.”
He saw the witch’s eyes bulge out of her head, making her even more toad-like and then watched Potter produce the blade Draco had given him and slice her throat. She gargled for breath a few moments before falling down dead.
It was spectacular…
Tired, covered in blood, and tripping over their victims, the four of them kept fighting. Not a single Death Eater or beast gained access to the rest of the school. Draco, Hermione, Potter, and McGonagall stood shoulder to shoulder as another wave approached them just as a cold familiar voice boomed in their ears.
The Dark Lord’s voice…
Draco pushed his witch behind him, looking for his snake-like face amongst the crowd. It took a moment to realize he was not there. That he had magically amplified his voice for everyone on the school grounds to hear.
“You have fought valiantly,” said the cold high voice and Draco had to suppress the shiver that ran down his spine. “Lord Voldemort knows how to value bravery.”
There was a long pause before the voice from his nightmares continued.
“Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will all die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste. Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately.”
The Death Eaters before them stepped back and retreated through the door.
“You have one hour. Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.”
“I speak now a message for Harry Potter, though I doubt he is even amongst you. Long has he hidden in the shadows, allowing his friends to fight and die for him. After all these years, it is time for him to face his long-awaited fate. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If by the end of said hour, Harry Potter does not surrender himself to me, then the battle will recommence. I will enter the fray myself and I will kill every last man, woman, and child until he is brought before me. One hour.”
Silence fell.
It was a long moment before anyone spoke.
“Do not listen to him Potter,” McGonagall spoke. “The moment we stood against him, we all signed our death warrants. Tom will kill us with or without your surrender.”
“She’s right. To the Dark Lord, disloyalty is the greatest sin and for which there is only one acceptable punishment.” Draco said as he turned to face him, meeting his green eyes. The Polyjuice Potion had worn off. “A slow agonizing death.”
“We need to get a message to Professor Snape,” Hermione said urgently. “He never truly transferred the headmaster title to Umbridge. He can reestablish the wards and control the school's defenses. It would give us a fighting chance.”
“On the contrary, Miss Granger,” the senior witch cut in. “Professor Snape and I snuck into the grounds last week. He transferred the title of headmaster to me, good and proper. Arriving in the thick of things, I did not get a chance to get the defenses sorted. I shall do so now.”
The professor walked away without another word, stopping only for a moment beside the body of her fellow teacher.
“I'm going to find Ron and Ginny,” Potter said, heading towards the door.
“Harry, wait.” his witch’s voice was pained as she caught her old friend’s arm. “I—”
Her voice cracked and she had to clear her throat before continuing. “I have something for you. It's from Snape.”
Harry looked confused as Hermione pulled a vial of silvery, swirling liquid from her pocket.
A memory…
“It's a message from Dumbledore.”
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 37: His Witch Ch 37
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 37
Draco followed the two Gryffindors through the halls.
It did not seem wise to leave his self-sacrificing witch alone with Saint Potter. He fully expected the dark-haired wizard to charge off on his own to save the day and Draco was not going to give her the chance to follow him.
He was going to ensure Hermione Granger survived this war and got her happy ending, whatever that might be…
They did not protest, just led the way through the halls, stepping around fallen suits of armor, piles of rock, and bodies in silence.
Most of the bodies were clad in Death Eater robes, though Draco did spy Amos Diggory and Penelope Clearwater among the dead.
Potter and Hermione did not stop. Just continued their trek to the headmaster’s office and the Pensieve within like in a trance.
The statue that usually served as the door was smashed. They stepped over it and ascended the steps. Once in the head office, Draco had to resist gagging. Umbridge’s decorative tastes had not changed. Lace doilies were everywhere and every inch of the wall was covered with cat plates.
Hermione went straight to the wall behind the desk and she knocked the tacky plates off the wall. The cat pictures cried as they tumbled to the ground and shattered into a million pieces. Once the area was cleared, he heard her mumble a Revelio.
A cabinet door appeared.
His witch opened the cabinet and retrieved the Pensieve from inside and placed it on the desk. Draco saw the family crest carved into its stone side.
Dumbledore…
Hermione offered Potter the bottle. He took it without a word and dumped the contents into the bowl. They started to swirl and glow. Draco settled beside a display cabinet full of more cat plates. Resisting the urge to send it crashing to the ground, he watched Potter plunge his head into the Pensieve.
Hermione came to stand beside him and they both waited for Potter. His witch was fidgeting with her hands to the point she was ripping at her nails until they bled. Draco took them in his hand and held her still.
“What’s wrong?” he asked carefully.
Hermione bit her lip. “I had hoped to not be the one to do this. Snape was supposed to be here.”
“Do you know what the message for Potter is then? Have you seen the memory?’
She shook her head. “No, I haven’t seen it, but I have a good guess what it's about.”
Draco opened his mouth to say something but his witch cut him off.
“And before you ask, no. I can't tell you. That is up to Harry.”
He closed his mouth and they stood watching Potter for any sign of movement. With how tall he was, he was practically bent over, his shoulder hunched at an odd angle to get his face in the bowl.
He looked ridiculous…
And Draco was taller than him. Did he look like that when he used Snape’s Pensieve?
Merlin, he hoped not…
The silence stretched on until Draco couldn't stand it any longer.
“Do you ever think about what you will do after the war?”
It was a subject they both avoided. Neither of them wanted to tempt fate but with the end looming closer, Draco couldn't help himself.
“Not really. My thoughts and energies have always been focused on my current projects and missions. I just always assumed that after the war, I would turn my efforts towards restoration.”
“That’s what will be expected of you, not what you want.”Draco turned to meet her golden gaze. “What do you want, Hermione?”
She opened her mouth but hesitated. “I don't know. Maybe I need inspiration.”
Hermione shifted closer. “What do you want?”
You… always and forever…
But instead, Draco said, “I thought it was obvious.”
“Is it?” she replied with a raised eyebrow.
You will regret it if you don't tell her…
Potter’s words ran through his mind. Never in a million years did Draco believe he would ever take advice from his former rival and yet here he was, leaning closer until his breath ghosted over Hermione’s ear.
“I l—-”
Potter straightened out of the Pensieve, gasping for breath and Hermione rushed to his side. She reached for his arm but he pulled away.
“You knew,” he hissed, his flash of anger causing Draco to reach for his wand, ready to protect his witch.
Hermione shook her head.
“No!” she cried.
“Then you suspected,” Potter continued.
Hermione froze, tears streaming down her face. It was a long moment before she nodded her head.
“Suspected what?”
Hermione and Potter both looked at Draco like they had forgotten his presence, which irritated him further. Potter closed his eyes and took a deep breath before answering.
“That I am a Horcrux.”
“What?” Draco asked, astonished. That was the last thing he ever expected Potter to say. “How is that possible?”
“The night Tom killed my mum and dad, he had prepared to make a seventh and final Horcrux with my death. When his spell backfired, his soul blew apart and a fragment settled in me. That's why I can speak Parseltongue, see into his mind, and sense his presence.”
“But Dumbledore had a plan right?” His witch pleaded. “That's what the message was. A way to destroy that part of his soul without hurting you.”
Potter shook his head. “No. It's too late. He is a part of me. The only way to kill that part is for me to die.”
Hermione fell to her knees.
“But that doesn't make sense,” Draco reasoned. “If that were true then why did Dumbledore spend so many years protecting you? No offense Potter, but from the stories I’ve heard, you are basically a magnet for everything deadly and dangerous.”
The veracity of Draco’s argument surprised even him, and yet the thought of Potter dying after so many near-death experiences just felt wrong. Harry Potter survived. He always survived.
“First, because Dumbledore didn't start to suspect anything until 2nd year, with Tom’s journal and the fact I was a Parsel mouth,” Potter replied. “It wasn't confirmed until 5th year with the sharing of memories and Tom attempting to possess me. The second reason was the prophecy.”
“You don't mean the one lost in the Department of Mysteries?”
Potter nodded his head.
“Dumbledore was there when the prophecy was told. Basically, it said one cannot survive while the other lives. Tom is my death and I am his.”
Potter was a pig for slaughter…
He must have seen the horror in Draco’s eyes because he nodded his head.
They all turned their heads to the sudden clattering on the steps.
“Do not tell Ron or Ginny. They will not allow me to do what needs to be done.” Potter pleaded softly.
He nodded his head as Draco assisted his still-crying witch to her feet. She rubbed at the tears, turning her face more red. He mumbled a quick spell to calm her swollen face and she gave him a small smile of gratitude.
The two redheads that rushed into the room were not the ones any were expecting. The Weasley twins stopped in their tracks, noting the poorly hidden devastation on Hermione’s face.
“So you already heard the news,” One of them said, Draco didn't know nor care which.
They looked at each other.
“What news?” Potter asked.
“Ron and Ginny were captured by the Death Eaters and taken into the Forbidden Forest.”
He caught Potter’s arm right when he went to charge out of the room.
“Don't!” Draco snarled. “This is exactly what the Dark Lord wants you to do. He wants you to be impulsive and rush to your death.”
“So?!”
Hermione seriously owned the only brain in the entire golden trio…
“So? Stop and use whatever is under that mop of hair for once,” He whispered insistently. “If you go out there now, like this then your death will be on his terms. Do not give him the advantage.”
“Like you wouldn’t be rushing out there right now if Hermione was captured instead,” Potter hissed.
His witch stiffened but said nothing. Draco gripped his arm tighter, intent on inflicting some pain for the fact that he could so casually speak of her in such a situation. She had been in such a situation, multiple times, and they nearly destroyed her.
Why was he even trying to talk him down? Draco should just let him charge off like the hero and sacrifice himself for his dumb girlfriend and dumber best friend. He was fated to die anyway.
But no…
They still had the last Horcrux to deal with before they could attempt the Dark Lord’s final death. Potter’s surrender could be the perfect distraction, creating an opening to kill the snake, but only if they played it just right.
This could be the best opportunity to finally end the war.
To finally give his witch some peace…
“I would not,” Draco managed to ground out of his clenched jaw. “Because whenever one is dealing with the Dark Lord you need to have your wits about you. I have a plan—”
“I don't know what you two are whispering about,” one of the twins interrupted. “But mum sent us to find you. She has an idea how we can get our siblings back.”
At his last words, his eyes shifted towards Draco then back to Potter. This could serve as a distraction until he had a chance to talk to Hermione and finalize his plan.
Draco released his arm and Potter pushed past him.
“Let’s go see what she has to say.”
He left the room, the Weasley twins trailing behind him.
Hermione and Draco stayed back.
“What's your plan?”
“It will be faster if I just show you,” he breathed.
Golden eyes met his silver ones and he projected the details directly into her mind. The plan was simple. The two of them would follow Potter into the woods, under the invisibility cloak. While the Dark Lord’s attention was focused elsewhere, one would take down his wards while the other would strike with the fang.
It made him uncomfortable to put his witch in danger again, but she was the only one Draco trusted to watch his back and his her’s.
Hermione’s mouth formed a thin line and he thought she would disagree and argue for one of them, likely him, to stay behind. But she surprised Draco and said, “Let me tell Harry. He will be more likely to go along if it comes from me.”
He nodded his head as they walked at a brisk pace to catch up with Potter.
The Twins led them to an empty classroom on the first floor. They entered first, followed by Potter, then Hermione and Draco.
As he stepped through the door, there was a pop and then tight ropes ensnared him, wrapping around his legs, clamping his arms to his side and gagging him. The more Draco fought against the restraints the more they dug into his skin. He nearly fell onto his face, but two sets of hands caught him.
“What is the meaning of this,” Hermione demanded in her cold, deadly voice. Draco saw her out of the corner of his eye being held back by one of the older Weasley boys, he couldn't remember his name, and Arthur Weasley.
Then the Weasley matriarch stepped into his line of sight.
“It's simple. Malfoy is going to assist us in getting my children back safely,” she said matter-of-factly. “Place him over there boys.”
Draco tried to fight as the Twins dragged him across the classroom, farther away from his witch. They sat him in a broken chair and the ropes wound around the legs and arms, binding him in place. The remaining Weasley clan was present along with himself, Potter, Hermione, Katie Bell, Dean Thomas, and a couple of members he did not recognize.
“How?” Potter demanded.
“We are going to offer him as a hostage exchange. Malfoy is not only a traitor to the Death Eaters, but he can give You-Know-Who something that he wants almost as much as Harry.”
“And what is that?”
The older witch's eyes fell on Draco, cold hate clear in her gaze.
“Mastery over the Elder Wand.”
What?!?
Hermione froze.
“Yes… I know all about that and Dumbledore's mission.”
“How?” His witch shook with barely contained rage.
“I never trusted Head Healer Nott,” the elder witch started. “How could we let a son of a Death Eater into our ranks? As a spy, fine. A lowly healer, fine. But as a strategist and leader making decisions that affect us all? It had to have been the Imperius curse. He had already done it once to my son—”
“Theo did not Imperius Charlie!” Hermione interrupted. “They loved each other and if you weren’t blinded by your self-righteousness and bigotry you would have seen the truth.”
“Charlie was a sweet boy who loved his family and that Death Eater spawn turned my baby against us!” Mrs. Weasley snarled. “He would never walk away from his family unless he was cursed. When Nott started rising through the ranks, I knew he was up to his tricks again. But no one would believe me without proof, so as the muggles say, I bugged his office.”
Hermione, Potter, and even a couple of the Order members’ mouths fell open.
“Mrs. Weasley… the laws—“
“I do not care,” she snapped. “I could not let him get away with what he did. So I listened for months, hoping to catch him in the act.”
“Imagine my relief when I overheard a conversation between Nott and Snape. This had to be it! The two traitors avoided each other like a plague so to overhear that they had sneaked off for a private conversation.
“Imagine my surprise when they started to discuss the fabled Elder Wand from folklore. To discover it was not only real but in the hands of our enemy and that he was actively trying to master it. You can imagine it was very disheartening. That is until Snape revealed that Hermione had uncovered the truth that the wand's master—.”
Her eyes shifted back to him.
“—was none other than her pet Death Eater, Draco Malfoy?”
Draco wanted to laugh but couldn't because of the gag. The weasel matriarch had clearly lost her mind. There was no way that he was the master of the Elder Wand.
He looked towards his witch, expecting her to explain how it wasn't possible. Her jaw and fists were clenched and she was glaring daggers at the elder witch. The same witch that was still looking at Draco and seeing the confusion on his face.
“You don’t know,” she said, astonished. “I guess that makes sense. Wand ownership is a tricky thing. Many believe death and defeat is the only way to claim another’s wand, but a wand’s allegiance can change with something as simple as disarming an opponent.”
Disarming… like Draco had done to Dumbledore the night of his death…
His eyes shot back to Hermione, who was avoiding his gaze. She had figured it out weeks ago. Figured it out and kept it from him.
Draco had been a fool to believe she was done with the secrets…
“So how is offering Malfoy going to get Ron and Ginny back?” Bell asked.
More Order members were filing in. Draco saw Longbottom amongst them and was surprised to realize he felt relieved the Gryffindor was alive. Lovegood wouldn’t have to mourn the loss of her husband just yet.
“I’m glad you asked, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said with too big a smile. “We offer him to the Death Eaters along with the information for their master. Distracted by the information, You-Know-Who will be focused on becoming the true master of the Elder Wand, giving us enough time to get Ron and Ginny out of there.”
The weasel matriarch and Draco had more in common than he ever considered. They had thought up near identical plans. Normally he would make a snarky comment about it but the gag prevented it.
Too bad, because Draco would have bet galleons that the red-haired witch’s reaction would have been hilarious…
“I don’t think you are in the right state of mind to be making this decision, Mrs. Weasley,” Longbottom spoke up. “Surely we can think of a better plan.”
“We don’t have time!” Her eyes flashed with rage. “I thought I lost three children to this war and I only just got Percy back. I refuse to loss any more.”
“We aren't sacrificing Malfoy,” Potter protested. He had drifted towards Hermione. “I'm the one he wants, I'll go and barter their freedom for my compliance.”
Mrs. Weasley spun on her heel. “No Harry! You are a son to me in all but blood. That is not an option!”
“But the prophecy—“
“I don’t care about some convoluted prophecy,” she snapped. “I’m still not convinced it truly existed. Snape is a double agent and has been a Death Eater for most of his life. We cannot trust him. It could all be a ploy to get you to You-Know-Who.”
The room erupted into chaos as everyone tried to talk over each other about the best course of action. That is everyone except Hermione, Potter, and himself.
Draco was still gagged so clearly his opinion would not factor into their decision about his fate. He watched his witch as she spoke quietly with Potter in the corner. He knew they were talking about him because occasionally one or both of them looked his way.
Hermione was plotting.
The group could not agree on one plan of action, so they dispersed to find McGonagall and Shacklebolt. They only had 30 minutes before the Dark Lord's deadline. Only Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and Potter stayed behind. Draco was still bound to the chair.
His witch was angry. The rage rolled off her in waves, making the two other occupants tense.
“I'm sorry it had to come to this dear,” the elder witch finally spoke, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “I know you two have become, um… friendly these past months, but you’ve known Ron and Ginny for years. Surely they are more important.”
Hermione turned her heated gaze on the weasel matriarch.
“So you want me to choose who dies based on how long I've known them?”
“No, but Malfoy is a Death Eat—“
“Was a Death Eater,” his witch corrected.
“Fine,” Mrs. Weasley huffed. “Was a Death Eater. But he’s still killed people.”
“And I've killed people!” Hermione snapped back. “Ron has killed people! So has Ginny! We are all soldiers of war. No one is innocent.”
The elder witch gaped for a moment before trying a different tactic.
“As I said earlier, Malfoy will just be a distraction for You-Know-Who long enough to rescue everyone. With some luck, Malfoy will survive.”
Hermione looked away from Mrs. Wesley, clenching her fist.
“I don't believe in luck,” she said softly before turning back around, wand in hand.
The older witch was struck with a full-body bind before she could react and the mother of all weasels fell to the floor, stiff as a board. Hermione stood over the matriarch.
“I make my own,” she finished before turning to Draco.
He knew he should be mad at her but Merlin was his witch sexy when she was angry.
Especially when her anger was directed at someone else…
Hermione muttered the spell to release Draco’s binding. The ropes fell to the ground and he rubbed his chafed wrists.
“Thanks love,” Draco said as he stood.
He stepped towards her, but she stepped back.
Why was she being distant?
Draco should be the one mad at her for keeping secrets after she said she wouldn’t.
“Don't thank me yet,” she said as she moved closer to Potter.
Potter, who had just stood there throughout the whole scene. Potter, who had a sad look in his eyes as he studied Mrs. Weasley. Potter who now held his invisibility cloak.
“Good, you’ve told him my plan,” he said, feeling uneasy as he eyed the cloak.
“I have, though we’ve made some adjustments,” my witch replied softly.
“We don’t have much time to—“
Her wand came up and she whispered, “Expelliarmus.”
Draco’s wand flew out of his hands towards Hermine’s outstretched one and she caught it effortlessly. He stared at it in shock and confusion. Then it dawned on him what she was plotting.
No…
Hermione gave him a sad smile.
She planned to take his place. To offer herself as a distraction for the Dark Lord, buying Potter time to free the weasel siblings.
Like Draco would bloody let his witch sacrifice herself…
He charged towards her just as Potter pulled the cloak over them and they both disappeared.
“Get fucking back here you bloody witch!”
It didn’t matter Draco couldn’t see them yet he grasped at the spot they stood a moment ago hoping to catch them. His heart dropped as his fingers closed on thin air.
Draco moved forward, his arms in front of him searching, desperate to get a hold of something, anything. He would even settle for grabbing Potter’s ass.
Anything to stop her… anything to get her back…
“I need you to survive,” Hermione’s disembodied voice said from the door. “To live your life and enjoy a future of peace.”
She was supposed to be such a clever witch, so why doesn’t she understand?
A life without her was not a life worth living…
And then he realized it was because she didn't know. Draco never told her because he was a coward. He charged through the door.
“Hermione, wait!” Draco pleaded, scanning the hall for any sign of her.
“I love you, Draco, and I’m sorry.”
He did not see where the full-body bind came from, but it struck him in the side of the face. His body locked up and Draco fell sideways to the floor.
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 38: His Witch Ch 38
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Chapter 38
Rage and despair coursed through Draco’s veins.
How could she do this?
He fought with every fiber of his being to free himself from the spell. Draco needed to save Hermione from her own stubbornness and stupidity but it was useless. The magic held fast.
Lucky enough to have not fallen on his face, Draco watched the end of the hall and prayed for someone to appear and release him from the spell. Once free, he just needed to find a wand, then he would go into the bloody forest and drag her back, kicking and screaming if he had to.
Any minute, people would start returning to meet up and make a decision after locating Shacklebolt and McGonagall. There wasn’t much time before the Dark Lord’s deadline. Once the Order discovered what Potter and Hermione had done, a rescue mission would be launched to save their savior. Draco would have to play nice to make sure he was included.
He thought of every possible thing he could say or offer to ensure Shacklebolt's cooperation. Surely after all the scheming and manipulation he had done these past years, he was corrupt enough to be bribed.
Still, no one came down the hall. Not even a weasel spawn or the husband. You would think one of them would come check on Mrs. Weasley.
Draco had no way of knowing how much time had passed, but surely they were close to the deadline. Someone had to make a decision. Yet the castle was weirdly quiet. It should be a buzz with activity as teachers and Order members prepared for another fight.
What was going on?
He tried to keep calm as time crept on. It could have been hours or minutes.
Hermione and Potter must have made it to the Dark Lord by now…
Was Potter dead?
Had they managed to kill the snake?
Was the Dark Lord dead?
What if they were all wrong?
What if there was another Horcrux?
Dumbledore had guessed there were six, but what if he was wrong?
Potter was a Horcrux…
What if there were more, accidental Horcruxes that even the Dark Lord didn’t know about?
Could they ever be sure that the Dark Lord was truly dead?
His spirit was in hiding for a decade.
What if the Dark Lord caught them before they killed the snake?
What if Hermione was being tortured right now?
Her body had already suffered so much trauma…
Draco did not doubt how strong his witch was, but everyone had a breaking point. Look at his mother…
His mother…
Oh Merlin, what if Hermione ended up like his mother?
Narcissa wasn’t the first the Dark Lord had left like that and she wasn’t the last. He took special pleasure in destroying people’s minds. And his witch had stood against him and tricked him like no one else had.
If he ever got his hands on Hermione again…
Panic set in. As each minute passed Draco became more convinced that his witch was dead or damaged beyond repair. The light of the hallway shifted. His eyes went to the high windows and saw the soft warm light of dawn.
The Dark Lord's deadline had passed hours ago.
Before Draco could lose himself completely to panic and despair, movement caught his eye.
A heavily pregnant Luna Lovegood was the last person he ever expected to see turn the corner and walk towards him, her crazy multicolored robes flowing around her as she rushed.
“I finally found you!” She exclaimed as she knelt beside him. She tapped Draco’s forehead with her wand and his rigid muscles finally relaxed. He bit back a groan of pain.
His body had been prone for too long.
“Come on,” Lovegood said as she tried to help him sit up. A pained whine did escape that time. “Theo sent me to find you.”
“Theo is here?” Draco managed to say through a clenched jaw.”
Lovegood nodded her head. “All Order healers were summoned here an hour ago to deal with the wounded. All able-bodied members too, in order to assist. That’s why I’m here.”
“What happened?”
She shook her blonde head. “Time for that later. It took long enough for me to find you, we have to go to the Great Hall. That’s where they are treating the wounded.”
“Why?” He asked softly.
Draco already knew the answer before Lovegood spoke it. There was only one reason why Theo would send someone to find him…
“It’s Hermione.”
Their progress to the Great Hall was slow. His muscles were so tense, Draco couldn’t stand straight and every step sent pain shooting through his body. Lovegood held his arm, offering what assistance she could, but he refused to lean on her. There was no way her slight frame could handle his weight. Especially not pregnant.
As they took the curve of the grand staircase, Draco saw the entrance hall was a flurry of activity. Order members went from outside to the Great Hall and back again carrying the injured and supplies. Lovegood led him through the doors and to the back corner by the Slytherin table.
There Theo was hunched over someone.
Not someone…
Hermione.
There was a cut down the right side of her face, slicing through her eyebrow, and cheek, curving down to her jaw. It was bleeding so much that Draco couldn’t tell how deep it was or if her eye was still intact. Even so, it should have been an easy injury for Theo to heal if not for the flailing.
His witch was convulsing like she was being actively Crucio’d. Even with Snape and Longbottom holding her down, Theo was having trouble healing her wounds.
His pain was forgotten, Draco rushed to her, shoved Longbottom to the side without an apology, and took his place.
“What happened?!”
“The better question is where were you?” Snape hissed.
Draco glared at him. “You think I would willingly let her walk into that forest without me? She disarmed me and then cast a full-body bind when I tried to follow her and Potter. That was hours ago. Lovegood was the first person to find me. Now answer the bloody question.”
Snape’s anger towards him did not abate, but finally, he spoke.
“Potter walked into the camp seemingly alone. The Dark Lord was boastful in his perceived triumph. Gloated over the boy, tortured him some, and then cast the killing curse. Right when Potter's body fell to the ground a hissed scream had pulled our attention. While we were all distracted, Miss Granger freed the Weasley boy and together they destroyed the snake. As expected, this enraged the dark—“
Hermione convulsions increased as Theo attempted to heal her bloody leg.
“Can’t you give her one of your potions?” Draco ground through his teeth.
“She’s already had 4. Either Hermione’s grown a tolerance or her muscle damage has reached a point beyond repair. You better pray it’s the former.” Theo snapped back.
Fuck this was bad…
“Hermione is trapped in a memory,” Lovegood spoke quietly. “She cannot find her way back alone.”
This was a CMMS episode!
That explained why her body acted like it was currently cursed.
“Help me sit her up!” Draco ordered.
Snape and Theo took her arms as he positioned himself behind her and pulled Hermione against him. Draco held her flailing hand to his chest, just over his heart.
“Please love… please come back to me,” he whispered into her blood-stained hair.
Just as he had done before, Draco told her their story from the beginning, hoping it would pull her out of it.
Draco didn’t know if she could hear his words. Didn’t care that he had an audience. He would do anything to bring her back to him.
He told her about every frustrating moment in the beginning. How she drove him crazy. How she slowly dug her way into Draco’s heart and made him a better man. He told her how angry he was at her actions tonight but that he would forgive everything only if she opened her eyes.
As her convulsions started to calm down, Theo went to work and Draco continued to hold her as the healer treated every injury.
He continued to whisper to her, now of the life they would have while ignoring the stares of an open-mouthed Longbottom and a silently crying Lovegood.
Draco promised to buy her any house she wanted, wherever she wanted. He promised to free every house-elf linked to the Malfoy name and pay them. He swore to be her willing and loving servant in any and all things.
“There is something I need to tell you, Hermione. Something I should have told you weeks ago, but I was too much of a coward. Please wake up, love. Please.”
Theo, who had moved up to her head injury, tried to hide the pity in his eyes, but Draco saw it and refused to acknowledge it. His witch would be fine. She had to be.
He watched the skin on her face knit together. Her eye was thankfully intact, but there would be a scar.
Draco didn’t care…
She already had so many and they were proof of his witch’s strength and only made her more beautiful in his eyes.
“We have to check her mind now,” Theo said softly.
Draco knew his unspoken words.
Check to see if it’s still in one piece and if she's still in there…
“Do you want me to do it?”
He shook his head. “I’ll do it.”
Draco held his witch tight to his chest, closed his eyes, and touched her mind.
There was pain…
So much pain…
Every thought and feeling was blurred by it.
But something was there.
Hermione was there.
Her presence was distant. Like she had retreated into the deepest part of herself. Likely to withstand the trauma.
Draco briefly entertained the idea of seeking her out and waking her up, but that was selfish. Her unconsciousness was necessary for her recovery.
Reluctantly, he withdrew.
“She is there. Just unconscious from the pain.” Draco told Theo as he opened his eyes.
The healer and potion master let out a sigh of relief.
They must have shooed the Longbottom couple away while Draco was occupied because they were nowhere to be seen.
“I’ll get her some pain potion and dreamless sleep. I think a magically induced nap will be exactly what Granger needs to recover,” Theo said as he stood.
Draco nodded his head and his childhood friend walked away, leaving only Snape.
“Shall I continue?” the dark-haired wizard asked.
Again he nodded his head. The events of the last 12 hours were catching up to him and Draco was too mentally and physically exhausted to speak.
“Miss Granger and Mister Weasley managed to kill the snake, which greatly enraged the Dark Lord. He struck before they could attempt to get away and broke into the boy’s mind. That was when the Dark Lord turned on me, finally learning of my deception from Weasley’s mind. I was rooted to the spot I stood, unable to run or defend myself.”
“Then surprisingly, the Dark Lord turned his attention to Miss Granger. Whatever he saw in her mind sent him over the edge. I had never seen him so furious.”
It could have been any number of things, from tricking him into believing Draco was a spy to the hunt for the Horcrux or the fact that he had been bested by a Muggle-born.
“The Dark Lord made sure she suffered,” Snape’s voice said softly, his eyes haunted. It was a few moments before he spoke again. “During all this, the youngest Weasley had escaped and gone back to the castle. She brought reinforcements to the clearing and attacked. While the Dark Lord’s attention was elsewhere, I was released from my bonds.”
“Even distracted, you shouldn’t have been able to break free,” Draco said in surprise.
“That is why I said released,” Snape snapped with annoyance. “By Potter specifically.”
What?!?
“But you said Potter was dead!”
“No, I said he was hit with the killing curse. I never said he died. Everyone was too distracted to actually check and obviously, he already set a precedent for surviving the curse once. Potter released me and Weasley, then ordered us to take Miss Granger and run back to the castle. Weasley refused and chose to stay and fight. I returned to the castle alone with the unconscious Miss Granger.”
Just then there was a shrill scream from the entrance hall.
“NO! NOT MY BABY BOY! PLEASE NO—“
The screaming was suddenly cut off. Draco tensed, ready to run and take his witch to safety. Then there was a sudden cheer. He and Snape looked at each other in confusion until Theo rushed over to them.
“The Dark Lord is dead!”
Draco stared at him, his mouth opened.
“Yes! Potter just returned with the remaining Order members. They suffered heavy casualties but he is dead and the remaining Death Eaters are captured.”
Dead… The Dark Lord… Was dead…
It didn’t seem real.
The war was finally over…
He felt both relieved and overwhelmed.
Now what happens?
“Who was screaming?” Snape asked.
“Mrs. Weasley,” Theo said softly.
Someone must have released her from Hermione's spell then…
“Ron Weasley did not make it.”
Draco did not know how to react to the news. There was an odd mix of indifference and surprisingly, sadness. But before he could decide, he spied Shacklebolt heading their way.
He was battleworn, with fresh blood on his old Auror uniform, though it was not clear if it was his or someone else's. Longbottom followed him, looking grim. The Order leader eyed Theo, Snape, and Draco before his gaze settled on the unconscious witch still in his arms.
“I heard of Miss Granger's actions on the field of battle. What is her status?”
“Critical but stable,” Theo replied. “I believe she will live but it is too early to tell the extent of her injuries.”
Shacklebolt nodded his head, then his gaze shifted to Draco, a gleeful look in his eye that made the blonde wizard nervous.
“I assume you have heard the news.”
“Theo informed us. Congratulations on your victory.” Draco strived to keep his tone even and formal.
Didn't the Order leader have more pressing matters to attend to with his newly claimed victory? Why was he bothering them?
Go the fuck away, was what Draco really wanted to say.
“With the death of You-Know-Who comes the official end of the war and the enactment of your pardon.”
Shacklebolt was smiling…
Why was he smiling?
“I am aware,” he tried to say evenly but was unable to hide the unease in his voice. Draco held his unconscious witch a little tighter.
“Kingsley, I would advise against this,” Longbottom whispered in the ex-auror’s ear, but Shacklebolt brushed him off.
“With your pardon now in full effect, so begins your exile…”
His exile? What?
And then the memory came back to him. Hermione’s voice from back in the beginning when it was still cold and distant.
“When the war ends, you will both be issued full pardons and allowed to leave the country, to settle peacefully in another, with the agreement you never return to British soil again.”
Draco had foolishly assumed that meant after everything had settled down and there was a proper government to enforce it.
“You cannot be serious,” Snape hissed.
Shacklebolt’s grin had widened to a full smile.
“Oh, but I am. Mister Malfoy and his mother have until the end of the day to get out of my country. If they fail to do so, then their pardons will be null and void. They will both be tried to the fullest extent of the law and locked up for the rest of their days.”
Draco should have realized that the ex-auror would use any means to get back at him after the way Hermione had embarrassed him.…
“A day is not enough time to get his affairs in order,” Theo tried to reason. “His mother alone will need several days to prep—”
“That is not my problem. They both signed a binding magical contract. It’s not my fault they didn’t ask questions to clarify certain points.”
“Hermione will not be pleased with this turn of events,” Draco growled.
“Maybe,” Shacklebolt said with a smirk. “But she’s not in any state to do something about it, is she?”
Draco tried to carefully shift the witch off him so he could lunge at the bald wizard and wipe that Cheshire grin off his stupid face, but Theo, and surprisingly, Longbottom held him back.
“I will kill you for this,” Draco hissed.
“I would like to see you try, Mr. Malfoy,” the ex-Auror said with an insolent tone. “I would take any excuse to put you behind bars where you belong.”
“Don’t,” Theo whispered. “It’s not worth it. Think about Hermione. She needs you.”
The healer's words deflated his anger and Draco resumed his death grip on his witch. They would not take her from him. If he had to leave, he was taking Hermione with him.
“I will help Draco settle his affairs,” Theo said, turning towards Shacklebolt.
“You will be much too busy to assist, Head Healer Nott.”
“Consider this my resignation notice, effective immediately,” Theo snapped back.
That wiped the smile off Shacklebolt’s face. “You can’t ju—“
“I can and just did,” his long-time friend interrupted. “I only signed on to assist the Order until the end of the war. As you so plainly stated, the war is over.”
It looked for a moment like the wizard would argue, but he turned on his heel and stalked away.
Draco was stunned. It wasn’t supposed to move this fast. He never even asked if she wanted to be with him after everything. He was going to tell her how he felt and ask Hermione to stay with him. They were supposed to talk about their future and decide what to do next together…
“I’m taking Hermione with me,” Draco stated definitively.
But Theo shook his head. “Until she has woken up and I’ve gotten a better grasp on her physical and mental state, I would not recommend moving her to her cabin, let alone another country.”
No… he would not— no, could not be parted from her…
“I’m not leaving without her.”
“Be reasonable, Draco,” Theo pleaded. “If you stay then you will be separated permanently. Instead of thinking of it as leaving her, think of it as going and preparing her new home for when she is better.”
The healer was right.
Draco hated it when Theo was right…
Why did he have to talk so much sense?
If Draco held Hermione any tighter he risked crushing her, but he wanted to. Wanted to fuse them together so they could never be parted. He knew it was a ridiculous thought but he didn't care. He was exhausted from fighting and almost getting possessed and being bound for hours. He was tired of the universe trying to separate them when they just found each other.
He just wanted to be left in peace…
Didn’t they deserve to be left in peace?
Yes, he had done some awful things in his life, but he was just trying to survive.
Wasn’t Draco’s actions these past seven months proof enough that he could change and be better? Hadn’t the universe taken enough from him already? Or was losing Hermione the final price he would have to pay?
“What if she doesn’t get better? Or what if she decides to stay here?”
“Have some faith in your witch.” Was Theo’s reply. His brown eyes were sad but hopeful. He thought he knew how strong Hermione was.
The healer didn’t know what lurked below that strength. The vulnerability and brokenness that his witch fought so desperately to hide from everyone. If he left, she would be hurt and alone. Others would try to prey on her goodness and self-sacrificing tendencies.
Shacklebolt and Potter already had a history of doing just that.
They would try to keep her here and use her up until there was nothing left. Draco had to keep that from happening. But if he stayed then he would be imprisoned, separated forever, and unable to protect her, just as Theo said.
Draco turned to the one person he trusted to protect Hermione besides himself. The one person who had already demonstrated a willingness to do so multiple times.
“You will protect her?” Draco pleaded.
“Of course,” was Severus Snape’s reply.
Draco closed his eyes and buried his nose in her curls, breathing deeply as he desperately tried to catch a hint of her comforting scent under the smell of blood and moss, and fear. On his second breath, he thought he caught a familiar whiff of lavender but it might have been his imagination.
How long before he would breathe the comforting scent again?
Though it went against every instinct in his body, Draco shifted her out of his arms. He laid her carefully on the cot, brushing the curls from her face before pressing a soft kiss to her lips.
If Draco didn’t leave now, he would not be able to.
Turning away from his witch was the hardest thing Draco had ever done in his entire life. The effort of it nearly made him physically ill, but he managed to swallow it all down and look towards Theo.
“Let’s go then.”
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 39: Letters
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or any characters within it.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Letters
December
Hermione,
Not two days after my mother and I settled into the chateau in France, your bloody owl showed up. They truly are impressive creatures. I promise to take care of Athena until you join us here. Until then I’ve decided to write you letters so you can be up to date on recent events and so you know where to find me. Also to make sure Athena is getting enough exercise. After weeks of no letters to deliver, she seems a bit chubby.
Theo owled me an update yesterday on your progress and his decision to put you in a magically induced coma to reduce the trauma on your body, giving you time to recover while he sorts out your new potions. It makes me nervous but I’m willing to do anything that will help you get better. A couple of weeks won’t be bad.
I can’t wait to hold you in my arms again.
Draco
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
January
Hermione,
I won’t lie, the new year has been hard. Between missing you and trying to settle my mother into her temporary home it has been difficult. I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I am grateful that Mrs. Esme agreed to join me. I would not have been able to do this without her.
Don't you dare repeat those words. Especially not to her.
I thought you would be pleased to know that I freed the elves in our French house this week. They were confused and upset when I first presented them with clothes. It took a while for them to understand that it wasn’t that they were bad and I didn’t want them, but once I explained that they could keep their job if they wanted, they calmed down. They are still confused about the whole “getting paid for their work” part. Maybe you will be able to explain it better once you are here.
I miss you every day.
Draco
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Hermione,
I have decided to sell all 7 of the old Malfoy properties. I can’t stand the thought of you walking their halls when many of them are warded with old blood purity wards and seeped in the prejudices of my ancestors. I’m starting with the French house.
Mrs. Esme wasn’t thrilled when I told her I wanted to move again so soon. Things have been difficult with trying to settle Mother into a new place, but when I explained why she was a bit more understanding. The old witch even helped me pick a new place. It is a lush newly built estate right off the coast. Instead of one big house, it has two smaller but generous ones with a sprawling villa surrounding them. The second smaller house will be perfect for Mother. It’s even surrounded by a rose garden. The library in the main house isn’t that impressive but we can always expand later.
Or demolish it and build whatever your heart desires.
We are moving in next week and I can’t wait for you to join us.
Draco
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Hermione,
Theo wrote today that he thinks it’s time to end your long nap. It’s been the longest 3 weeks of my life, but I know this was what your body needed to get better. If everything goes according to plan I will be holding you in my arms within a couple of days.
I can’t wait.
Draco
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Hermione,
Theo reversed the sleeping charm three days ago, yet you haven’t woken up yet. He assures me that sometimes this happens with patients after a significant trauma. That your body must need more time to recover and to just be patient. I’m trying to be, but I can’t help but worry.
I understand now how your mother felt. I won’t feel settled until you are in my arms again.
Draco
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
February
Hermione,
You should have woken up 2 weeks ago. Theo refuses to bring you here, using the same excuse that he won’t risk it until you are awake and he can properly gauge your body’s recovery. All the diagnostic tests say you are fine, but clearly, something is not right.
I am tempted to come get you myself, but Shacklebolt probably has the whole bloody country rigged so an alarm would go off the second my foot touches British soil and he’ll throw me in Azkaban.
I miss you so much and being apart is killing me.
Draco
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Hermione,
Please wake up.
Draco
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
March
Hermione,
I love you. I should have told you long ago, but I wanted to wait until after the war. I thought it was because I wanted to prove my love with some grand gesture, but now I realize it was because I was afraid. I was a coward and now I may never get the chance.
Please wake up my love.
Draco
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
You brought me back to life. I only exist because of you and without you, I am half a person. Please wake up.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Please wake up. I’m begging every god in the universe, both muggle and magical, to bring you back to me.
I need you
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I love you. Please come back to me. Please wake up. I don’t want to live without you.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Notes:
Thank you for reading!
Kudos & comments are always appreciated.
Chapter 40: After
Summary:
“In the past six months, you have become the biggest threat to the Order, outside of Voldemort himself. You had to be neutralized,” she continued, whispering the last part like she didn’t want to say it. “The how was unimportant.”
After 7 years of exile, traveling across Europe to learn dark magic from the worst of the worst, Draco Malfoy is summoned home by the Dark Lord and given one task.
End the war.
When a certain mudblood witch is caught in one of his raids, Draco sees the potential to finally snag Potter, fulfilling the Dark Lord’s demand and restoring his family name. But he’s not the only one transformed by years of war and Hermione Granger has a very different plan in mind. One that will turn Draco Malfoy’s entire world upside down.
Notes:
Ahh… the last chapter and the obligatory last author’s note. You would think this being my second time writing it, it would be easier but it’s not 😅. I’ll try to keep it short and sweet for you guys.
First, thank you to my betas, both past and present.
MJ, my beta and book bestie for life! This story would be a grammatical mess without you. I appreciate everything you do. You make me a better writer and I love you!
Abby, you started this journey with me as a beta and turned into a friend. I cannot properly express how grateful I am for that fact. Here’s to sharing many more stories in our future.
Holly, though you couldn’t beta the rewrite, I still appreciate everything you did for the first draft. You helped make this story possible and your excitement for it kept me excited.
All three of you talked me of the metaphorical cliff more then once. This story would have never been finished without any of you and I cannot thank you enough!
Second, thank you to Cort aka cortneyreinhardt aka Hypothetically here on Ao3. Without your dramione POV, this story would not exist. Thank you for inspiring me to get back into writing fanfiction! I’m certain this is only the first of many stories to come!
And last but not least, thank you to my readers! Your kudos and comments have kept me going when imposter syndrome tried to make me quit. I am so happy you enjoyed the story and I hope that enthusiasm carries over to Hermione’s POV!
As always, thank you for reading.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
After
Draco's skin tingled from his wards. Theo had arrived early.
After multiple arguments, he had finally convinced the healer to bring Hermione here. After 3 months of coma, the chances of her waking were minuscule. Theo had tried everything from spells to potions to Legilimency, but nothing could rouse her.
Hermione was there somewhere. Her mind was not empty like his mother’s, but she was locked somewhere deep in herself, unable to escape.
It was pointless to be concerned about any adverse reactions to travel.
Theo’s visit today was to talk logistics. After so much time apart, Hermione will finally be here with him. Within a couple of days, his witch would be in his arms again. Draco’s new purpose would be to care for her while trying every day to free her.
He finished shelving the stack of books. Draco had been preparing for her arrival and had converted the estate library into a bedroom.
Their bedroom.
Where Hermione could rest amongst her favorite things and he would sleep beside her and read to her every day. All her books had been transferred from the cabin with the help of Snape and Lovegood.
Task complete, it was a short trip to the receiving room with the fireplace that was temporarily connected to the floo network. Theo would be waiting and he was not a patient man.
Draco entered the room, mumbling an apology for the wait but stopped dead in his tracks. Before the fireplace, leaning weakly against the chaise lounge was a vision of wild curls.
Hermione…
She wore a simple light green dress that hung loosely on her starved frame. Her skin was pale and sickly from the lack of sun. The thin hand that was not braced on the chair trembled as it clutched a stack of notes to her chest.
She was beautiful…
“This is a dream,” Draco breathed in disbelief as he fell to his knees, his eyes drinking in the sight of her, unable to look away for fear she would disappear.
She took a shaky step towards him.
“I should be the one saying that.” Her voice was horse from disuse. “I have dreamt of this moment for so long.”
She stumbled, going to her knees, the stack of letters fluttering to the ground. Draco recognized the handwriting.
His letters…
Hermione was close enough to touch but still he hesitated.
If this was a dream or a sick hallucination from his grief-stricken heart, Draco didn’t want it to end. To reach out in anticipation of touching her and feeling nothing but air would break him.
“When?” he asked, studying her face, memorizing every line.
“I woke up yesterday.”
“What happened?”
Pain flashed across her face.
“Riddle,” she breathed. “During our last meeting, he broke into my mind and saw everything. He wanted us both to suffer and death wasn’t good enough. Somehow, he trapped my consciousness outside of my body and I was basically a ghost. Aware of everything around me but no one could see or hear me. It took me three months to figure out how to return to my body and only after some help.”
If no one could see her, how did she get help?
“Who?” Draco breathed.
“Luna,” she answered with a small smile.
Lovegood…
He made a mental note to send her a lifetime’s supply of chocolate puddings and a few pieces from the Malfoy vault. Draco recalled a pair of pearl earrings charmed to make the wearer burst into song randomly that he thought the odd witch would absolutely love.
“How?”
Hermione flinched and Draco nearly reached for her but stopped himself. He didn’t want this to end.
“It doesn’t matter,” she finally replied. “I am here now.”
Hermione reached for him but hesitated inches from his skin. Her hesitation hurt more than the distance between them. Like she wasn’t sure he was real either. His hand shot up and wrapped around her thin wrist and his heart started pounding in his chest.
She was real…
This was real…
His witch was here with him…
Draco pulled her against him and her familiar comforting lavender scent enveloped him. He kissed her cheeks, her eyes, her jaw, and everywhere he could while mumbling, “I love you, I love you, I should have told you so much sooner. I love you.”
She giggled as Draco’s kisses peppered her skin.
“I know.” She breathed, catching his gaze with her golden eyes. “And I never told you, but the future I wanted was you. Always you. I love you Draco Malfoy and now we can love each other in peace for the rest of our days.”
Hermione kissed him then, soft and sweet and Draco thanked the fates that she was his, now and forever. He thought of everything she had done to get them to this point and how his life would have ended if she hadn’t interfered. He was once again in awe of her determination, devotion, and cleverness.
“Clever witch,” Draco whispered reverently between kisses as he held her close. “My clever witch.”
Notes:
That wraps up Clever Witch and Draco’s side of things, but his is only half the story.
Get the full story with Hermione’s POV in My Own Luck!
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