Ch. 10 – Father Knows Best
Winter was unusually bleak at the castle this year; the fallen snow tainted grey as it threatened to knock every student down to its level. Winds were harsh and cruel, stinging the eyes to the point of tear-soaked cheeks which burned at the near-constant exposure to the dry, punishing air.
It was unrelenting and unforgiving . . . until one day, it wasn't.
The day the slush cleared and the howling winds settled, proved to be one of the highest grossing days for student presence outdoors. Students of all years gathered to enjoy the salvation from the grueling past few weeks.
It was by no means springtime yet, that would not come for months, but the cold had slightly receded, and the day was greatly cherished by all.
Except, perhaps, not all.
Hermione tilted her head towards the sun, or at least where she imagined the sun to be behind the overcast of clouds. She tried to bask in the meager amount of warmth.
With a great sigh of disappointment, she stood from her position on the lawn and peered down at the two boys sprawled out on the damp grass next to where she previously lay.
"I better go," she picked up her bag, slinging it over her shoulder, "Draco is expecting me."
Harry cracked open one of his eyes to peer up at her face, "Yeah, alright. See you later!"
Ron, propping himself up at Hermione's notion to leave, gave a lazy wave and returned to his original position on the ground. He didn't much care to hear about her whereabouts with Malfoy, not that he would admit why, of course.
The clack of Hermione's shoes echoed on the floor as she made her way to the infirmary. It had been anything but easy, the past few weeks, having to watch Draco mend the bones in his leg at an infinitesimally slow rate. She was relieved it would finally be over.
Draco let out a low growl as he attempted to shift weight to his left leg.
It was much more unpleasant than he'd like to endure, even as he sat with his feet barely taking any of his weight under the pressure; but after spending the past few weeks in this Godric-foresaken infirmary, he was anxious to get out.
Madam Pomfrey came bustling in, nearly sprinting towards Draco's assigned bed. Her palms stretched out in front of her small frame, gripping so tightly onto the narrow, cylindrical package that her knuckles stood out, paled in comparison to her flushed skin tone.
"Mr. Malfoy," she heaved, "This came by owl for you this morning! Wouldn't want you to leave without it, now would we? My goodness, could you imagine? What good would that do, I mean - "
He interrupted the woman's incessant babbling, taking hold of the package, "Is that all?"
With one hand settled atop her bosom, rising and falling as dramatically as her breathing, and the other on her hip, she set a sullen glare upon the boy.
"I should wash your mouth out with soap, young man. But I won't. Simply because you've been under a good amount of duress trying to mend that leg of yours and I do hope that this eases your pain a bit." She sighed, shaking her head at him. "How you spend all of your time with Miss. Granger and still manage to have a tongue like that. Merlin!"
He had wanted to interrupt her again but decided to let it go. He considered that to be a considerable improvement on his part; it wasn't enough, supposedly.
Draco clutched the package firmly in his left hand, feeling the steady weight of the dense staff before tearing away at the brown paper covering it up. He had special ordered a staff after his third attempt at walking after completely re-growing the bones of his left leg.
Madam Pomfrey had been more than delighted to hear that he'd settled for an aid. She'd been the unlikely victim of several tantrums which usually ended in obscene language sputtering out of his mouth as he collapsed to the floor under his own weight. Balance was a bitch.
The steel head of the cane was cool to the touch as Draco tentatively placed his palm over it.
The moment of truth, as it were.
He exhaled a shaky breath through his lips, closed his eyes, and shifted his weight so as to stand beside his bed.
He anticipated the wobble, the instance of weakness, that prevented him from making it any further beyond this point in his recovery. But it didn't come.
Instead, he took an experimental step forward. Followed by another. Merlin's beard, he was doing it. He traipsed around the foot of his bed, not moving farther than arm's length in case the cane did give way and cause him to fall.
It didn't.
In a matter of minutes, he was practically walking with a normal stride; it was miraculous. He'd nearly forgotten just how it felt to be independent, to stretch out his dying muscles and be able to make it to the lavatory (not even ten feet away) on his own.
It was exhilarating. It was freeing.
"Ah, Draco, so good to see you back on your feet."
The voice brought chills down his spine. He turned slowly.
Sure enough, there stood his father. His silvery hair appearing much duller blond under the dim, yellowing lights of the infirmary. His hair lay pin straight, cascading down his shoulders and his neat, black dress robes appeared freshly pressed. A glint in his eyes. The picture of excellence, of fortune.
Draco had been regretting this exact moment for weeks. Ever since he read Snape's warning. It was still entirely unclear to him how Snape could possibly have known about the affairs of his personal life that would lead to such a statement, much less how his father came to know of them.
He had opted not to tell the brightest witch of her age.
But, of course, he knew the moment he read it that he was on borrowed time. In truth it was actually quite surprising it took this long for Lucius to visit his dear son. His pride and heir. His one-way ticket to the Dark Lord's good graces.
Should his son join their rankings, that is.
Lucius Malfoy tapped his cane, adorned at the top with a snake head rather than a simple bulb, towards Draco.
"Like father, like son, I see." His lips twitched upward.
"Father." Draco nodded curtly. As it was custom. He dared not be rude. "What are you doing here, how did you get in the castle?"
His father glanced down at the bed to his immediate left, as if he was considering perching at the edge of the bedframe, but then thought better of it. A look of disgust still on his face as he looked upon Draco again.
"Dumbledore can't refuse a doting father the chance to visit his sickly son, now can he?" The dark, cold grin cutting to Draco's core.
He took a deep breath.
"Well." Lucius pronounced at his son's lack of response. "You have some explaining to do, I would think?"
The eerily quiet of the room seemed intensified, echoing back the disappointment in his tone.
Draco stiffened, "Father?"
"Don't dare feign ignorance to me, Draco." Erupted Lucius, the previously stoic expression dissolving under the outburst. Brows furrowed, lips parted, and for all intents and purposes, teeth bared.
He continued, "I will give you thirty seconds to provide me with a valid explanation as to why your mother and I received owl of your dirty, muddled behavior as of late. If you fail to convince me otherwise, I can guarantee that you will suffer. As for your little pet? She will endure a worse fate than yours."
Draco's heart pounded against the wall of his chest and he struggled with every fiber in his body, not to react to the threat his father proposed.
"I'm waiting. . ." His father spat, clearly growing enraged at his son's silence.
Not wanting to confirm any suspicions his father had, for the sake of possibly evading the torment that would be sure to follow, Draco tilted his chin up defiantly, "I don't know what you mean."
His father shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. His cane struck the side of Draco's injured leg with a deafening whack.
Draco gritted his teeth, a low moan at the back of his throat, as his fell to his knees at the assault.
"Now," Lucius drawled, watching as his son struggled to regain a firm stance, "Let's try this again."
His eyes narrowed at the man before him. He had known cruelty in this man, he'd grown up with it, but never had he been the subject of his father's wickedness. Family had been too prominent in his upbringing; His father would never have laid a hand on his own son, not unless he wanted to suffer his mother's wrath. This was not the man he'd grown up with. This was something else entirely.
No, a voice echoed in the back of his mind.
This was exactly the same man, only this version stood before him was what the public saw. How family values had ultimately become more about purity of blood and less about virtue and strength.
The spark in his father's eyes confirmed it.
"I admit," Lucius went on, realizing that his son would need more goading, "Miss. Parkinson was not my preferred choice for heiress, but to find out that my son, my only son, left her for a – what – a mudblood?"
Draco snapped.
"How dare you!" He raised his wand, arms outstretched, begging his father to give him a good enough excuse to wipe the smug look off his face.
"Ah, have I hit a nerve?" Lucius asked teasingly.
He raised his own wand lazily, meeting Draco's, "Now, son. Do be a good boy and lower your wand. We both know you're not going to use it."
Draco narrowed his eyes; his face contorted in anger.
"Watch me." He warned.
"If you so much as touch me, I will make sure you are the one the Dark Lord commands to kill the mudblood." His father countered, his voice dark and promising.
"You filthy - "
His father cut him off with a tsk, "Come now, Draco. That's no way to talk to your family. You wouldn't want the rest of them to hear about this little escapade, now do you?"
Draco shifted uncomfortably, his muscled ached a groaned; they hadn't held him up for so long in ages. He was beginning to tire.
"They," he emphasized, "will never be my family."
Lucius huffed, "I was rather hoping you wouldn't say that. Then again, I am getting used to you disappointing me. The Dark Lord will not be pleased, Draco. Not at all."
"Well, then," he scoffed, "It's a good thing I won't be answering to him anymore. Or you, for that matter."
"Nonsense!" His father finally breaking his calm demeaner. He pointed his wand at Draco, who's eyes widened at the realization that his father might actually harm him.
"Expelliarmus!"
Hermione appeared behind Lucius, catching his wand as it flew towards her. She leveled her own at his head as she moved around him to stand beside Draco.
Lucius howled, "You little bitch!"
Draco glanced sideways at Hermione, meeting her warm, chocolate eyes for an instant and conveyed his utter gratitude as best as he could manage without saying a word. He knew she'd understand; she always did.
"Give me back my wand you wretched girl, or I swear by Godric himself I will have you tortured so terribly it will make the Longbottom's appear practically gifted." Lucius spat.
"Don't fucking touch her!" Draco raged, his lip curling.
"Draco," Hermione whispered, placing his father's wand in her back pocket and touching the tips of her fingers to the back of his neck.
His father watched the intimate interaction with horror.
He stepped back reflexively, "The damage she's done is beyond repair, clearly. You leave me no choice, Draco. You don't want to be part of the family anymore? Fine. It's done. You are relieved of your inheritance, of your duty, of your legacy."
Draco scoffed, stifling a laugh, "Are you disowning me, Father?"
Lucius gave a gruff acknowledgment in response.
"You know," Draco started, lowering his wand, "I really didn't think this was going to be necessary. I certainly didn't think it would work. Then again, Father, I am getting used to you disappointing me."
"What on earth are you on about, now?" He replied; his lips pressed firmly together.
Draco limped over to his bedside table, where his robes lay. In his relaxed state, Hermione maneuvered her position so as to remain between Lucius and Draco, resisting the urge to see what he was fishing through his robe's pockets for.
"Ah," he exclaimed, raising a folded parchment in the air triumphantly. "The contract."
Lucius Malfoy blinked several times.
"You do remember this, don't you? When I requested that we make alterations over the break?"
Lucius narrowed his gaze, venturing a hesitant, "Yes."
Draco continued, "Right. There was the alteration of the inheritance of not only my entitlement to my trust fund," he ignored a pointed stare from Hermione, "but also, my succession to the head of House to commence pending my graduation."
"I recall," his father said through gritted teeth; a look of immense displeasure at his son's sudden lightened tone.
"Well," Draco smirked, "I may have slipped in a hidden clause. Didn't want to chance, perhaps, getting disowned."
His grey eyes darkened as realization dawned on his father.
"Liar."
Draco thrust the parchment at his father, "Read it yourself."
Lucius's eyes widened in horror as Draco flicked his wand to highlight the hidden clause.
"This is preposterous! I will not stand for this – this mockery!" He stuttered.
Outraged and wandless, Lucius headed towards the nearest candle. He let the flames rise to meet the parchment, desperate to rid himself of the horrid contract. How had he missed it? He thought.
"That won't work," Draco mused.
At Lucius Malfoy's murderous glare, Hermione spoke up with a reverberated cognizance at having understood what Draco meant.
"It was made with an unbreakable binding spell," she gasped.
Draco's silvery eyes danced with delight at her brilliant mind. It never ceased to amaze him. However, the elder Malfoy grimaced, retracting the perfectly intact document. It no longer mattered what he did to it, the parchment would never break, tear, burn, or exist in any fashion less than ideal.
It was one of Draco's greatest triumphs
He grinned in genuine disbelief that his contingency plan had paid off.
Madam Pomfrey made an appearance in the main room of the infirmary and startled at Lucius Malfoy's presence.
"Oh!" She exclaimed, a hand to her mouth. "I didn't know Mr. Malfoy would be expecting so many guests today! Oh, what a pleasure. He is recovering remarkably well, don't you think? That cane is doing wonders for his gait, dare I say! Oh Merlin, you have one as well Mr. Malfoy Sr., well how about that, the pair of you . . ."
She continued to fuss as Lucius focused his bewildered look upon Draco and Hermione. He held out his hand, palm facing upward.
A command? No. A plead.
He was no longer in control. Not anymore.
Draco nodded to Hermione; she promptly tossed Lucius his wand and he exited the infirmary with his head bowed.
Hermione sighed in frustration with her head bent over a book. She had been working on a particular arithmancy problem for ages and still hadn't been able to completely solve it. She closed the book with a deafening sound and received several glares from other occupants of the library.
Harry and Ron snapped their heads up to meet her eyes from across the table.
Hermione pushed the book aside, determined to return to it later with a fresh perspective, and pulled out another one on ancient runes. These courses would certainly be the death of her.
Ron leaned over to Harry.
"How much longer are we going to be here for?" he whispered impatiently.
Harry shrugged, glancing at Hermione's frazzled state, "Could be a while, by the looks of it. Don't think we'll be convincing her to leave any time soon."
"Bloody hell," he rolled his eyes, "I don't think I can work on this defense against the dark arts essay any longer. My brain is fried."
Harry refused to acknowledge the dramatic tone in Ron's voice at the last sentiment.
"Hermione?" Ron continued; his tone much lighter; hesitant.
"Hmm," she murmured, not looking up from the scroll she was writing on.
"You'll look over my essay won't you, I mean, we both know I'm useless and . . . well . . . you're not,"
Harry chuckled, "You're really outdoing yourself, mate."
Hermione continued to write, not looking up to meet Ron's pleading eyes.
He gulped, clearing his throat, "You're brilliant, Hermione, really, and I wouldn't immensely appreciate it if you'd give it a look-over. Snape already hates me, and I can't afford to fail this class. Mum will murder me I just know it."
He exchanged a quick glance with Harry, who was stifling a laugh, "You'll help me won't you, Mione?"
She raised a hand, dismissively, waving him off.
"Yeah, yeah, alright. Just – shut up."
Hermione's hand lifted from the page for a brief moment to add new ink to her quill before continuing to scrawl runes rapidly across the page; she was too focused to give him anymore of her valuable time. Exams would be here before she knew it.
Ron, deciding that was as good as it was going to get for him at the moment, nodded and gathered his things. He patted Harry on the back of his shoulder as he left the library, leaving the two of them to their studies.
He mumbled incoherently to himself about Hermione's lack of affection towards him. Lack of attention, lately, too. Stupid Malfoy, he grumbled, inwardly.
"You know," Harry started, watching as Hermione's curls fell loose from her ponytail, "Ron likes you."
She didn't look up, "Mhmm,"
"I mean, he likes you likes you."
At that, Hermione's head lifted from the page. She met his humored look with one of disbelief.
"What?"
Harry nodded, delighted to finally grab her attention.
"That's – that's mad," She sputtered.
He gave her a weary smile, "He'll be fine, though. With you and Malfoy, that is."
She blinked at him, unable to look away from his jewel-toned eyes. Searching for a sign of deceit.
"He'll come around," Harry assured, although honestly not quite sure of that himself.
Ever since he and Ron had talked about Hermione's involvement with Malfoy, he'd noticed Ron never wavered from his relentless argument of Malfoy's ill intentions. At first, Harry was somewhat on board, but recently he'd seen how Malfoy and Hermione interacted and how much they both thrived in each other's presence. It reminded him of his own affections towards Ginny.
He'd questioned his mate's arguments after accepting Hermione and Malfoy to which he discovered where Ron's true feelings lied. Poor thing.
If he hadn't been so thick. If he'd realized his own feelings for Hermione sooner, Harry thought.
The tell-tale click clack alerted Harry to pick his head up from his book to see Draco striding towards them.
He slid into the seat next to Hermione, giving her a quick kiss on her temple which caused her to smile sweetly up at him.
"Potter," He nodded.
"Malfoy,"
The silence that soon followed was not unpleasant, as all three of them worked on their separate assignments. N.E.W.T year was decidedly not enjoyable. Practically every spare second was spent in the library, hunched over a book and debating whether or not they should sleep, shower, or eat with what – sparse – extra time they had after studying.
Draco felt Potter's eyes on him repeatedly and finally decided to speak up about it seeing as it was distracting him from getting any proper reading done.
"Anything you care to share, Potter?" His voice low; a warning.
Harry shrugged, lifting his brows innocently, "I was just thinking. . ."
"Yes?" Draco drawled.
"Now that your balance is abysmal, there's no way you'll be able to catch me on the quidditch field. Guess you can kiss your chances of catching that snitch again goodbye."
He scoffed, amused at the statement, "Potter, I could fly circles around you before and I'm quite certain I can do that now."
Hermione peered between the two boys, unsure of how this conversation was going to go and if she would need to intervene.
"You wish," Harry smirked.
"Swot," Draco said, amused.
"Cripple," Harry shot back.
"Hush! Both of you," Hermione hissed as loudly as she dared to in their corner table of the library.
Harry flashed her a grin, "Oh, come off it, Mione, we're only joking."
She narrowed her eyes at him, then glanced at Draco.
He met her gaze; his lips twitched upward, "Potter's right, he knows he could never outfly me."
He turned his head towards Potter and winked.
The two of them immediately bowing their heads and returned to reading their respective books in silence.
Hermione peered back and forth between them and huffed. Boys, she thought.
"Horcruxes," Harry says.
Hermione and Ron look up from their positions by the fireplace in Gryffindor commons.
"That's what Slughorn was hiding," He explains. "When Voldemort was his student, he asked him about horcruxes, a very dark form of magic, and Slughorn explained them to him. Unbelievable!"
"What the hell are horcruxes?" Ron prompted. He whispered the last word with a nervous glance around the abandoned common room, just as Harry had done when he said it.
"Some dark object that entraps part of one's soul." Harry continued, "Dumbledore seemed to know a bit about them. Not too much, though."
His eyes settled on Hermione's at the last statement. She nodded to him, an understanding that she would do extensive research on the topic.
Horcruxes, she thought, tasting the world silently on her lips as she mouthed it.
Her face contorted in disapproval. For a professor to provide a young student with restricted information on a dark object, on dark magic? Unheard of.
"This is ridiculous," Hermione groaned, releasing one of the several books stacked in her other hand and allowing it to levitate to its rightful place on the shelf.
She glanced to her left, where Malfoy leaned casually against the book shelf, "In all my years as a student from Hogwarts, not once in my living memory has this library ever failed me. Yet, there is not one book that mentions," – she mouthed horcruxes – "it's unfathomable. And somehow Dumbledore has all the answers?"
Draco tapped his cane on the top of her shoes.
"Hardly surprising," he muttered, "he seems to know too much about precisely the things no one else knows about."
"Exactly!" She lowered her voice at the pointed glare of a Hufflepuff witch across the room. "How Harry still manages to trust him wholeheartedly is beyond me."
"Potter's an idiot,"
She pursed her lips, "I thought you two were becoming somewhat more amicable?"
He shifted his weight, feeling his left leg ache, "Just because we tend to get along more so now doesn't mean that I think highly of him. You were always the clever one, whereas Potter . . ."
Draco avoided her fixed gaze, knowing all too well she would mock him, "well let's just say he's the idiotically brave one in the trio."
As he predicted, she grinned mischievously, "You do get along with him."
"I should put you up against this book shelf right now for saying something so dirty."
"You won't," she said.
He immediately reached out, closing the space between them and slipping a hand around her waist.
"Wanna bet, Granger?"
She visibly swallowed at his mischievous grin.
Harry tossed a blackened, charred ring in the air, caught it, then tossed it up again.
"There are six," He said, "at least, that's what Dumbledore believes."
Draco sighed, his arm draped across Hermione's shoulders, "Right, because Dumbledore is so brilliant and trustworthy."
Ron grimaced, jutting his thumb in Malfoy's direction, "Why is he here again?"
"Upset you'll have to look at my pretty face all day?" Draco countered, smirking at Weasley's obvious discomfort at his presence.
Ron grumbled, but Harry and Hermione ignored the two of them. The bickering was relentless whenever they were in each other's company, so Harry and Hermione had learned to tune it out.
The foursome had been meeting at the top of the astronomy tower occasionally for the past few weeks but had made very little progress in the pursuit of helping Harry with Dumbledore's tasks.
"I still don't understand why he thinks it's a good idea to be dragging you into this." Hermione supplied, meeting Harry's eyes with a worried look. "It's dangerous."
"Anything involving Voldemort is dangerous." Harry countered, "Besides, I'm - "
"The chosen one," Draco interrupted. "We know."
Hermione sighed, "I still don't like it."
Draco adjusted his position to release the cramp in his calf, "You said there were six?"
Harry nodded, "There was Riddle's diary from our second year and this Gaunt ring," – he held it up between the four of them – "but we aren't certain about the others."
"Shocker," Draco muttered. Typical of Dumbledore to leave the rest up to a sixteen-year-old prodigal boy.
"He did say they're almost certainly important artefacts of Voldemort's. He showed me a memory of his that pertains to two possible other horcruxes - "
"Which are?" Hermione cut in.
"Well, there was a locket that belonged to Salazar Slytherin and a cup that was once Helga Hufflepuff's."
"A cup?" Ron asked incredulously. "We're supposed to believe Voldemort trapped part of his soul in a cup?"
Harry shrugged, "Suppose so."
"That's only four," Draco commented.
"One of the others has got to be his snake," Hermione added, "she's undoubtedly important to him. Not to mention extremely well protected."
Harry nodded, confirming her hunch, "Right, Dumbledore thought so, too."
Draco pursed his lips, "And the sixth?"
"Another object that belonged to another founder, I would imagine." Said Hermione. She bit her lip, deep in thought as to what it could be.
"Like Godric Gryffindor?" Ron pondered.
"Not likely," Draco shook his head, his tone lacked its usually edge that was reserved for Weasley's dumbfounded commentary.
"Malfoy's right," Harry added; he twirled the ring on the cement floor. "Voldemort hated Gryffindor's and what they represented. I doubt he'd use one of his memorabilia to secure a piece of his soul in."
Ron's eyes flickered to the spinning ring, "Rowena Ravenclaw, then."
Hermione and Harry both nodded; a comprehensive look passing between them before she turned and rested her head in the crook of Draco's neck.
"Brilliant," She muttered.
By the time April rolled around, the ground around the castle was rid of any remnants of the winter. The soft, dampened earth giving way beneath the heavy footsteps as students walked across the greens towards Hogsmeade.
Apparition lessons.
Hermione had signed them all up for it. It's a remarkably useful skill, you'll never know when you'll need it – she'd said as she placed the release forms in front of them over breakfast in the Great Hall one morning – besides, it's only twelve galleons.
Draco's cane sank deeper into the sodden ground with every step.
"Does it hurt?" Ron whispered to Harry.
The two boys following behind Draco and Hermione, and Ron was in desperate need of a conversation that proved more distracting than watching Draco tighten his grip on Hermione's waist.
"A bit," Harry offered, trudging alongside him. "It's mostly disorienting and nauseating."
Ron gawked, "Nauseating? Bloody hell,"
"Scared, Weasley?" Draco called, glancing back over his shoulder.
"Hardly," He attempted to swallow the lump in his throat, refusing to let Draco know the truth.
Draco smirked, then turned back around to set his eyes on the buildings coming into view.
He leaned down to whisper in Hermione's ear, twirling a finger through one of her curls, "You know I only put up with these buffoons for you, right?"
Hermione knew under the arrogant, mocking tone that his sentiment was genuine.
"I know," her lips twitched as her eyes settled on his.
The four of them gathered around the other students who had beat them to the meeting place, anxiously awaiting their turn. None of them had been all too successful, so far, but this was their first real try at it. If they passed this exam, they would be set and wouldn't have to attend the weekly lessons any longer.
A precious gift considering their N.E.W.T exams were only weeks away and time was of the utmost importance.
Not to mention, apparition would prove incredibly useful in their future endeavors should they require a quick getaway.
Hermione was the only one to pass. The three boys would have to try again the following week.
Draco traced the side of Hermione's face with the back of his hand, lingering on her lips for a moment.
"That's my clever girl."
She reached up on the tips of her toes to kiss him. She traced his bottom lip with her tongue before pulling away. His lips always left her breathless and dizzied.
"Not surprised, of course," he added swinging and arm around her shoulder and placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head; he let the intoxicating smell of roses enter his senses as they walked back towards the castle. "But still, I'm very proud."
She preened under his compliment.
"You did well, too,"
It was true, Draco had done well. Especially compared to Harry and Ron, who begrudgingly stayed behind for a butterbeer.
"I'll get it next time," he commented.
"I have no doubt you will." Hermione beamed, leaning into his hold on her.
The sun shone down on the couple as they made their way back to the castle with both glad to be out of the classroom on such a gorgeous day.
Several students sat around the common area with their books and notes strewn around them, but none seemed to be too focused on their studies.
Instead, the newest gossip was spreading through the tumultuous group like wild fire: Draco Malfoy was head of his house, and with all of its benefits.
Pansy, sitting across from Daphne and Astoria, scowled at their gaping expressions. This was decidedly not how she imagined owling Lucius Malfoy would go.
It had off putting, having to watch Draco traipse around the castle with Granger constantly dangling off of his arm. The two seemed inseparable, and much to Pansy's disliking, happy. Pansy knew she should be more supportive of her longtime friend, but the thought of his hands on Granger made her sick.
"How do you think he did it?" chimed Daphne, bringing Pansy back to reality.
"I dunno, Daph." She said.
"Don't know what, Pans?" Theo said, coming up behind the group of girls with Blaise in tow.
Theo squeezed Pansy's shoulders with a feigned growl before moving to sit beside Daphne. She blushed at his proximity, as did his heart flutter at her rosy cheeks, but neither acknowledged it.
"How Draco managed to outwit his father and take over as head of the Malfoy house." Daphne explained.
Blaise snorted, "I'm surprised he didn't make an announcement or write a book about it, How to Dethrone Your Father and Take Over the Family Enterprise Before the Age of Seventeen: A Memoir by Draco Malfoy."
Theo laughed, "That git,"
But Theo did know how Draco came to inherit the Malfoy regime.
Slytherin was still relatively cool towards Draco. Sure, the rumor that he had overthrown Lucius Malfoy did help him earn some respect in their eyes, but Slytherin's were calculating and skeptical.
Theo was certain if they knew how Draco came about his circumstance that they would respect him much more than they currently did. He'd been waiting for Draco to tell their group about it for months.
Seeing as that didn't seem to be likely, he spoke up instead.
"It was a hidden clause in his inheritance contract," Theo added.
"A hidden clause in a contract? You're telling me Draco used the legal system to get what he wanted?" Blaise said, astounded.
"How do you know?" Pansy narrowed her eyes at Theo.
He shrugged, a smirk on his lips, "He told me."
She grimaced and held her tongue.
Draco entered the commons expecting the murmurs to quiet as they typically did when he entered the room.
He'd noticed that, with respect to the other houses, he'd received immensely less stares as of late. They had even let up the hushed conversations in his presence, instead opting for curt nods, lowered gazes, and weak smiles.
He'd suspected it had to do with his cane, but Potter had clarified that it was actually due to his defense of Hermione during her attack – which had since stopped, thankfully – as well as his inclusion of the hidden clause in hindsight of his father's views on blood purity.
Now, he lingered in the entrance of the commons for a moment before heading towards the hallway that lead to his room. He'd spent the past couple of hours with Hermione in the library – only studying, though not to his lack of trying to do otherwise – and was in desperate need of sleep.
"Hey,"
Draco turned to see Theo enter the room.
"Hey," he said.
"You know," Theo started, moving to sit across from Draco, "You are welcome to join us in the common area."
Draco sighed, he'd stayed close with Theo following the Hermione gossip, but the others had taken their time accepting him back into the group.
"I'd rather take a dip in the Black Lake than sit anywhere near Parkinson," he said.
"I don't blame you, mate," Theo replied, "after what she did, but if you think about it, it did work to your benefit."
"Only because I was able to anticipate my father's reaction. I didn't plan on him finding out so soon."
"It's not like you could hide it forever," his eyes flickered to Draco's forearm.
Draco touched it absentmindedly, thankful he had been able to avoid receiving the Mark over winter break.
"Still," he huffed.
Theo shrugged, "All I'm saying is," he stood up to leave the room, "you don't have to seclude yourself."
The click clack of Draco's cane echoed through the Great Hall, causing most student's heads to turn at the sound. He scanned the onlooking crowd and settled his gaze on Hermione's. Her brown eyes captivating as ever.
He gave her a weary smile, then proceeded to walk down the aisle until he found Blaise and Theo. They were deep in conversation, arguing amongst themselves about who had the better move when it came to charming women.
Draco maneuvered his way into a seat on the bench and crossed the ankle of his injured leg over the other with his legs outstretched under the table. He rested his cane between his thighs.
When he looked up, he found himself making eye contact with Pansy.
She pointedly looked away with a dramatic flip of her hair and leaned closer to Daphne, whispering in the girl's ear. He didn't care that she did that to try and anger him; he didn't care that she repeatedly glanced back to see if he was watching her.
He wasn't.
He was eyeing Hermione reading the Daily Prophet. His heart fluttered in his chest as her eyes met his and she offered him a crooked smile. He winked back at her, smirking.
When he turned his attention back to Theo and Blaise bickering, he found himself much more at ease alongside his fellow Slytherin's than he had in the past few months. It was cathartic.
At a break in their argument, he leaned over to Theo and said, "No one is gawking at me in their usual, obvious fashion. Did I miss something? Why are they acting so . . . normal?"
Theo chuckled, swinging an arm over his friend's shoulders, "Relax, mate! Our housemates are finally coming to terms with the fact that you may actually have some functioning brain cells rather than sheer dumb luck,"
"What?"
"You know, the contract? The whole 'I overthrew my daddy' thing?"
"Since when did they know about that?" Draco hissed.
"Since, I told them." Theo shrugged, clearly unafraid of Draco's malicious stare.
He exhaled loudly, "Why would you do that? I told you in confidence."
"Oh, boo hoo, Draco," he popped a Licorice Wand in his mouth, chewing slowly to bide his time.
When he swallowed, he added, "So, what if I told them? It was brilliant."
Draco's brows furrowed. He hadn't told anyone about the clause for the sake of his father and mother's reputation. Surely, now that the new was viral among Hogwarts, it would only be a matter of time before the rest of the wizarding world was caught up. He imagined the backlash that would follow; the inevitable visit he'd receive from the Dark Lord and how disappointed he was sure to be in the young Malfoy.
"That doesn't explain why they're suddenly more respecting of me. I doubt any of them truly care about my inheritance contract and it's loopholes."
Theo smirked, "They like your flair, I suppose."
Draco shook his head as his friend devolved into laughter, shoving him playfully.
"Now," Theo continued, "Shut up and pass me that goblet, will you?"
Hermione flopped down on the makeshift bed with a dramatic groan.
"I cannot believe I botched that question on the ancient runes exam," she said.
Draco stretched out along the bed, turning on his side to look down at her; her curls unfurled around her head in a halo. He brushed a stray one away from her forehead, then propped himself up with one arm holding the weight of his head up.
"I highly doubt you botched it."
"Nope," she sighed, "I definitely botched it. I knew it was wrong the minute I left the exam. Ugh!"
She covered her face with her hands, dragging them down her cheeks.
At his amusing look, she narrowed her eyes, "What?"
"Hmm?" He said lazily, "Oh, nothing."
"Tell me," she insisted.
He traced his thumb across her temple, down the side of her face, and then cupped her chin between his index finger and thumb.
"I like when you're frustrated," he murmured, "your nose wrinkles and your brows crease in the funniest way."
"Oh, so I'm amusing to you, is that it? Well, I'm glad I could entertain you with my funny looks."
"It's cute." He admonished, tilting her chin up so that his lips were only a breath away from hers.
Her eyes flickered to his, now darkened with passion.
Draco leaned in, brushing his lips against hers; they were warm and supple. He lingered on them, reveling in the electricity she sent through his body at even the lightest touch, but not exploring the kiss any further. It was gentile, soft, and almost not a kiss at all.
They spent the remainder of that evening in their little hideaway, as they so often did the past few months.
A/N - Oof! This chapter was a doozy. I decided to merge the next four chapters into two, instead. That being said there will be no less material than there would be with four, but I would rather release longer chapters like this one and wrap this story up (rip my sanity). Thank you for bearing with me on the wait for this update! You can certainly expect the next one in a week, as well as the one (the last one!) after that. There is so much more to come.
PS - I have included a sample of the 'contract' with the referred-to hidden clause. If you would like to give it a read, it will be posted as its own chapter following this one. That being said, I do not have any reference nor credibility to be writing a legal document, so please be understanding as I'm sure there are many errors, etc.
Enjoy xx