Disclaimer: Of course, I do not own these characters or the world in which I'm writing them.

...

D

Draco stood in front of a full length mirror in his bed chambers, in dress robes for the second time in the past week. His life had changed rather drastically since the Artefact gala only a week ago.

The Daily Prophet article had exposed him as the anonymous donor of the compass, and although that twit reporter Rita Skeeter had stretched the truth considerably, Draco came out of if with a shiny new reputation. Neridiam Bram had publically announced their partnership on his new book series, even though Draco couldn't recall officially accepting. The Society for Magical Advancement wrote him and, "in light of current revelations", they were retracting the prior statement that he wasn't welcome at their ceremony and extended him a direct invitation. It seemed they no longer needed Hermione Granger to be there on his behalf. Besides this feat, he was getting an owl a day inviting him to other events, each offering him a further opportunity to put himself in the public good graces by healing the great divide in the magical world, as one letter put it.

It wasn't all fun though. The day the article was published, Draco had been sitting in the parlor when his father joined him and launched the newspaper at his feet.

"Is this my true punishment, then?" The older Malfoy seethed. Draco hadn't yet read the paper, but his eyes caught the photo on the front page: him looking at Hermione like he was a starving man and she was the last plate of dinner. He didn't have to read the article to get it's meaning, the byline and the photo said enough. The boy retreated to his old ways by trying to keep his head down and attract as little ire as he could. "My own son throwing away his heritage, disgracing our name. Will I be expected to rub elbows with the mudblood, too?"

The word caused Draco's brain to snap. Before he knew what he was doing, Draco had stood with such force that his chair toppled backwards. "Don't call her that!"

"So it's not some disgusting fiction?" Lucius stalked closer. "Is this your sowing the wild oats phase, then?"

Draco took a step back and stumbled against his overturned chair. His father's presence, even though the two men were now the same height, still made Draco feel young and powerless.

"It's nothing to worry about," he mumbled, looking away angrily. He reduced his voice to a whisper and added, "I'm used to not getting what I want."

His father's scowl twitched. "Have I not given you everything you ever wanted? Money, power, prestige. I provided you all of those things."

"You also provided me a ticket to Azkaban, and it's only by someone else's doing that the ticket didn't get punched." Draco gathered his courage and looked directly in his father's steely eyes. "You know nothing about what I actually want, father."

A rustle at the door announced his mother's entrance. She must have been just beyond the threshold listening, because her gaze was pained at Draco and she said, "Tell us what you want, dear."

Draco mouth went dry. No one had ever asked him what he wanted with this much weight before. He hadn't even asked it of himself. He had known for so long not to allow himself to want things that were out of his reach, since he had decided that the desire had never been worth the disappointment. But Hermione had changed that. She'd reminded him how to want and to feel. He composed himself, using the time to straighten his spine and concoct a way to word his thoughts. He opened his mouth and still had no command over his voice. How could he be honest? His father would pounce on an emotional display as weak, but to deny his emotions now would keep him from Hermione, if she ever came around to him.

His mother spoke again. Her voice was careful and even. "Strategically, the move was quite brilliant. That Granger girl certainly gave a boost to your image, and would likely do the same for ours if the... relationship goes further. It would be wise to pursue it, solidify that alliance."

Draco caught himself before his jaw fell open. His mother was encouraging him?

Lucius face contorted as if he'd sucked on a lemon. "Do you realize what you're suggesting? That our son purposefully put himself in league with filth! Would you have their little half-breed brats running around the manor in a few years as well?"

"I know perfectly well what I'm suggesting." Narcissa's mouth formed a thin line. "Admittedly it's not ideal, but what choice do we have? Do you want to be ostracized for the rest of your life? In this new society, pure heart is the new pure blood. That is how we get ahead now."

"They are beneath us!"

Draco saw a vein pop out in his father's forehead. His first instinct was to get between them, protect his mum, but Narcissa kept her poise.

"My husband, you may not be in Azkaban, but you are well imprisoned here. You've been stripped of your magic. What makes you any better now than the common muggle which you hate so much?"

"I am no heathen." Lucius drew himself up tall. His form was not imposing, but still austere. "And if I recall, you agreed with me once."

"I did. I am proud of my line." Narcissa raised her chin and mirrored her husband's stance. "I am simply of the mind that our future is more important than our past. Last May at the castle we made the decision to walk away from that life, right before the end, to protect ourselves from the inevitable. It was enough to keep us all from death or the Dementor's Kiss, but it was too little too late to ensure our comfort for the rest of our lives.

"Draco's found a way: the love of someone pure-hearted. All we need is the right person to pardon our supposed sins and they will all follow suit. Don't you see the brilliance? We must play by these new rules now." Narcissa finally turned her attention back to Draco who was still frozen in place. "What do you say, dear? I know it's not what you want, but like you said, you're used to not getting what you want, so long as it helps the family."

Draco reigned in his shock enough to respond evenly. "I'm unsure if allying with her is still possible at this point. She may not be amenable." He paused as if he were weighing his options. "I suppose I can keep up the pretenses to appear as though I am."

She smiled. "Good. That may be all we need to succeed." Narcissa turned back to her husband. "You should thank your son for his sacrifice."

Lucius' skin changed to a sickening color, like he'd swallowed poison. He gave a curt nod and left the room.

Draco finally remembered to breathe again. "Mother, I..."

Narcissa made a hushing noise. She patted Draco's hand, then lifted her palm and placed it tenderly against his cheek. "My dear, you deserve to have what you want. That's all I ever wanted for you. I am just sorry it had to be this way." Her voice was heavy with regret and to anyone listening in, it could have seemed that she meant she was sorry for him being forced to pursue Hermione Granger. Up close, however, Draco noticed a new softness around her mouth that looked like a loving and crafty smile.

She knew. She knew what he wanted and came up with a spin for his desires to be acceptable within their household.

She'd given him permission.

"Thank you," he murmured and pressed a grateful kiss to his mother's forehead. She allowed her smile to linger only a moment longer, then erased her features into her usual regal expression. She too nodded and exited, leaving Draco alone once again. He stood there, too bewildered by the unexpected turn to do anything but blink. Slowly he regained the ability to move. He righted his fallen chair and then reached for the newspaper which had separated into singular pages. He grabbed the page with Hermione's photo first and allowed himself to drink in her image. Was it a blessing or a curse that his mother had given him permission if Hermione still wouldn't have him?

Draco shook his head and reached for the other pages of the paper which were in a disarray all over the floor. He did a double take as another article caught his attention.

...

Sylbering Scandal

Accusations are flying after this weekend's charity gala at the London Magical Artefact Vault. Dymphna Laceroot, three time author and esteemed magical archaeologist, has found that someone tampered with a donation she made to the Vault four years ago.

Many may recall her find of the Sylbering Gloves, a strength enhancing relic, which was heralded as the most exciting find of the last decade. The discovery launched her junior career so that she quickly outshone her former mentor and fellow explorer, Neridiam Bram.

"It's a shame what has happened here," Ms. Laceroot said when she was reached for a statement. "Not for me, of course, but for the Artefact Vault, and for the magical community. We've lost a piece of our history and the Vault lost a priceless artefact." She had to fight through tears to tell the story, but insisted that she isn't the victim, everyone is.

She discovered the deceit when a fan asked her to sign one of her books, she explained. "The gloves were of particular interest to the boy, with the power of strength and all, so he asked me to sign the page where I included a photo in the book. It was then that I noticed something wasn't quite right."

Laceroot had identified that the gloves in the photo were fakes, proven by an incorrect rune in the stitching. The forgeries were obviously switched out after she'd donated them. "I hadn't taken too much time to look at the photo before now, since I was already on to my next endeavor, but the mistake is glaring."

She has vowed to find both the gloves and the thief. Anyone with more information can send an owl to the anonymous post box.

...

Draco was momentarily struck dumb. Then suddenly he was laughing heartily and uncontrollably. Of course that woman would find a way out of the corner he'd backed her into. Her plan was rather elegant, really. He couldn't stop the laughter and strangely, he didn't want to. The house elves or his parents might think he went mad if they could hear, but the release was slowing draining the tension out of his muscles. That relief lasted all through the week as owl after owl bombarded him each day with the invitations.

Now it was the end of the week and Draco looked at his reflection once more. Yes, since that day, the whole atmosphere of the manor had changed. His mum smiled at him from the door and his father gave him a cold but approving acknowledgement. Draco shifted the boutonniere on his lapel until it was just so, then apparated away to the award ceremony.

A/N:

Hello, everyone! Sorry this one took so long to get out. I hope this wasn't confusing as to how I worked with time in this chapter, I thought chronological seemed too boring...

This chapter was supposed to be extra long, kind of a two in one to make up for the chapter I skipped last time, but the second half is just giving me so much trouble to write! I decided to get this bit out and I'll work to get over the writer's block and get the second half out soon. Since it's going to be a stand alone chapter again instead of being lumped with this one, I will force myself to think of more creative stuff to add to keep the length up and the story good, maybe doing that will help me get any of it written in the first place.

I'm thankful as always for your comments, faves, and follows, and a special thanks to everyone who looked at my new story. The response to that one was bigger and faster than I expected and it made me really excited for that next project :)