Chapter 53: The Preparations
So this chapter is, as promised, a bit longer to compensate for last chapter being a bit short. Also, there's a battle coming up soon and the characters have quite a lot to accomplish. This is actually only half the amount of plot I'd planned to cover, but the chapter would have been unreasonably long...
Again, thank you so much for all of your reviews and kind words. They mean so much to me and are really my motivation to keep writing. I want to send out a special thanks to the unnamed guest who sent me what was probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me and left me absolutely no way to respond (again, unnamed guest). Thank you anyway!
The newly-expanded inner circle of the Order of the Phoenix sat around the round table in Severus and Hermione's common room with papers strewn about the table. Narcissa, Draco, and Severus brought the knowledge about the Dark Lord and the conditions at Malfoy Manor. Albus, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were clearly unavoidable characters in the final battle, one way or another. Ginny and Neville were the representatives of the DA, Alasor was the liaison with the Auror department, and Minerva was sitting in as the faculty representative due to the location of the final battle within Hogwarts itself.
It had been determined that, as soon as Draco opened the cabinet for the Death Eaters to come through, they would immediately reseal it to trap the Death Eaters that made the journey within Hogwarts without escape. As soon as this occurred, a second party would raid Malfoy Manor to take on the remaining Death Eaters as well as to hopefully eliminate Voldemort himself.
The battle groups had been drawn up logically, but they had been debating for hours just how they were going to get back into Malfoy manor. Technically, Narcissa should be able to bring them in as the current Lady Malfoy, but anyone who could see the physical changes she had undergone since her defection had more than a little doubt that whatever magic tethered her to the Malfoy family was tenuous at best. Alastor was partial to the idea of kidnapping a Death Eater at an earlier date and following his Dark Mark to the Dark Lord, whereas Albus was a greater fan of the brute force approach, an idea which made both Severus and Narcissa roll their eyes.
Just as the meeting was nearing hour three, there was a soft coughing noise from the corner of the room where a small, corderoy-clad figure was quietly dusting some books. Everyone but Hermione and Severus seemed to ignore it, but the bushy head of curls whipped around so fast that said curls bounced dangerously in every direction.
"Frick!" Hermione shouted triumphantly, scaring everyone but Severus and Alastor, whose nerves were apparently too battle-hardened to be startled by something so trivial. Hermione rushed over to the little elf, who was smiling at her fondly.
"Can you tell if Narcissa is still the matriarch of the Malfoy line?" she asked the elf excitedly. Seemingly uncaring that he was now the center of attention, Frick walked calmly over to Narcissa and tilted his head, as if listening for a noise only he could hear. After a minute or so of silence, he straightened up and stuck his hands into his pockets, again, appearing more like a muggle college professor than a house elf.
"Madame Narcissa is no longer the Malfoy matriarch, but she is still recognized as the lady of the Manor, so you might be able to utilize some," he paused for effect in a way that reminded everyone at the table of Severus, "nonlinear methods of transportation, if you know what I mean."
Upon hearing this, Hermione squaled and subjected Frick to the most undignified of hugs, swinging the little creature around in a circle before depositing him back on his feet and helping him straighten his button-down shirt. He gave her an affectionate pat on the arm before turning his back on the assembled, and now thoroughly confused, group of wizards and resuming his dusting.
"Is anyone going to tell the rest of us what that was all about?" Ron asked with typical Weasley candor.
"Frick is a house elf, so he can sense things wizards can't. He could tell that Narcissa is now magically Narcissa Black instead of Narcissa Malfoy, so she wouldn't be able to grant us access to Malfoy Manor." There was a collective sigh of disappointment from everyone but Severus.
"However," Hermione stressed the word, "the elves of Malfoy Manor still recognize her as the Lady of the Manor, which means they still follow her orders above all others, including Lucius. Few people remember this anymore, but elves are domestic helpers, so according to ancient protocols they follow the orders of the Lady of the house, not the Lord."
Several people around the table were still directing blank stares in Hermione's general direction.
"That means that Narcissa can summon the Malfoy elves to her at will. She can have them transport her and whomever she chooses directly into the Manor itself."
Hermione looked around triumphantly at the stunned group of faces looking back at her.
"We're in."
That night, Draco and Harry were sitting together in Severus' private gym. Harry had conjured a sofa for them to sit on as they looked over the quidditch pitch. They often met here at night so they could be alone, as it was still not safe for Draco to have their relationship seem anything but hatred and antagonism to the public eye. However, they both relished their time alone as it was not only a time they could spend together, but a time they both got to take off their not insubstantial masks and simply be themselves.
Tonight the ambiance was a little tense, which was understandable given the revelations of that night's Order meeting, but Harry felt like there was something on top of that that was making Draco seem extra tense. Finally, after a few minutes of awkward silence, he spoke up.
"So are you going to tell me what's up, or do I have to beat it out of you?" Harry asked with his usual amount of Gryffindor tact.
This would usually get at least a begrudging snort out of Draco, but tonight the blond just looked at him with a nervous look on his face. After a second, Harry slowly pulled himself away from the Slytherin, his posture seeming to cave in on itself.
"You're done with us, aren't you? I knew you weren't necessarily...you know, so I don't hold any hard feelings…" Harry began babbling nervously but was quickly cut off by an incredulous hand over his mouth.
"Are you kidding me, Potter? No! You are literally out of your mind if you'd think I'd just throw you over like that. It's…" Now it was Draco's turn to pause uncomfortably, "...it's actually the opposite."
"The opposite? You're nervous because you're not dumping me?" Harry asked, clearly relieved but confused. Draco took a deep breath before looking deep into Harry's green eyes to continue.
"I've been thinking about this for a while, actually. I mean, you were raised by muggles and not in the ridiculously antiquated social circles my parents run in, so you've obviously got a different timeline for these things, but I was just thinking that...oh bugger." He took a moment to collect himself, scowling briefly at the amused look on his messy-haired boyfriend's face.
"I've never seen you flustered before. I must say, I'm kind of honored," Harry said fondly, nudging Draco's shoulder with his own. Draco let out a relieved little sigh and turned on the sofa to face Harry directly.
"You're going to the Manor for the final battle and I've clearly got to be at Hogwarts, for obvious reasons." Draco seemed determined to do this a piece at a time. Harry nodded his assent and Draco continued.
"I can't seem to stop thinking about the fact that I won't be able to protect you," Draco said simply, a crease of worry forming between his eyebrows.
Harry immediately began to respond in argument, but Draco shushed him before he could build up any self-righteous steam, "I know, I know, you're not a bloody damsel, and you don't need saving, and, hell, you can outduel me a solid portion of the time. I know all that. I just…" he paused and looked away for a second, as if searching for the right words, "I love you, and something in me just feels the need to protect you. Can you be okay with that?"
Harry nodded, a lovesick smile already building on his face. "Of course I can. And I feel the same way. Is that what you were nervous to tell me though?"
Draco shook his head and took one more deep breath before continuing, "the Malfoy family has been around almost since wizards first existed. Most of the pureblood propaganda is ridiculous and made up, but having such old magic does have some actual, practical advantages." Slowly, Draco removed a silver signet ring with emeralds encased in the shape of an "M" on it, clearly bearing the Malfoy family crest.
"This ring was crafted in the first century for one of the patriarch's of the Malfoy line. Since then, every head of the house since then has worn it and subsequently imbued it with every manner of protection charm they could think of. It holds all manner of protection magic, light magic, family magic, and blood magic tied to the Malfoy line and, in recent centuries, the Malfoy estate as well."
Harry was eyeing the ring as if it was a precious treasure or a poisonous snake, Draco couldn't tell which.
"So why are you showing this to me now?" Harry asked in a husky whisper.
"Harry Potter, I don't know what's going to happen. I don't know how you, Severus, my mother, and the few Order members that are crazy enough to go diving into the snake's den that my childhood home has become plan to come out victorious. However, I do know that whatever happens you feel more like family to me than anyone to whom I share actual blood relations and whatever happens I want the rest of my life to be with you. I would have done this eventually anyway, so don't think I'm just doing this to keep you safe, but will you wear my ring? This ring?"
Harry nodded, awestruck, and in a daze let Draco maneuver the ring past the knuckles on his left hand. He twitched suddenly and became very alert as he felt the powerful magic of the ring wash over him.
"Woah," he said, looking up at Draco, still somewhat awestruck. Draco, for once, didn't point out his lack of eloquence and simply nodded. They both stared at the ring for a few minutes in silence before Harry finally spoke.
"I don't want to sound stupid, but this doesn't make me a Malfoy, does it?" Harry asked shyly.
Draco did actually snort this time, "No, Harry. I'll still be able to sneer 'Potter' at you whenever I please. I guess technically this makes you my betrothed. In pureblood terms it means I have, for lack of a less archaic term, claimed you as mine and you now have all the protections of the Malfoy family. No one who shares my blood will be able to harm you, even if they try, and the protections in that thing should defer or deflect almost everything but the unforgivables and dampen the effects of most dark spells too. I mean, we haven't intentionally tested it, but that's the legend at least."
There was a long pause before Harry spoke again, "I think I like the idea of being claimed by you." He flashed Draco a toothy smile before resting his head on the blond's shoulder. He felt Draco's arm slide around his body and squeeze him tight as he pressed a kiss into the messy hair at the top of his head.
"Good," Draco said quietly as they both resumed looking out over the moonlit quidditch pitch.
The Order was in the midst of their usual prolonged post-meeting chit chat as the members slowly dispersed themselves. Draco and Harry were standing by the door with Hermione and Severus, quietly confirming the details of their training session the next morning in Severus' private gym when Narcissa seemed to materialize out of nowhere (as she often seemed to do) and put a quiet hand on Harry's shoulder.
"I'm glad to have you as part of the family, my dear. I'm not sure which family that is exactly, but whatever name we are under, you're a welcome addition," she gestured down at the carefully disillusioned ring on Harry's left hand.
"You can see…?" Harry started, when Narcissa patted his shoulder reassuringly.
"Disillusionment spells don't work on family heirlooms, at least not to those inside the family. Other than Draco and I your secret's still safe though," she gave him a conspiratorial little wink.
She spoke quietly enough that only Harry could hear, but Draco, Severus, and Hermione, however, were immediately alerted to the fact that something had happened between the two as Harry's face had immediately turned a shade of red usually reserved for the Weasley family.
"Erm, thank you, Mrs. Malfoy...or, erm, Mrs. Black. I'm not sure what to-"
Harry's stammering was, thankfully, interrupted by an incredulous Draco, "You're okay with this, Mother?"
Narcissa looked mildly pleased at her son's consternation, "Okay with what, dear? You liking boys? I've know that since you were six, honey."
"Mother! Sweet Merlin, no," Draco shot out in embarrassment, "About me and Harry…"
Narcissa looked fully amused now, "Oh, I've known it would be Mister Potter since your first letter home after you were sorted."
Hermione and Severus looked inches from grabbing popcorn while they watched the private little show that was developing amongst the still red-faced Gryffindor, his thoroughly scandalized boyfriend, and the Slytherin matriarch whose eyes were now twinkling with an amusement worthy of Albus Dumbledore himself.
"You did not," Draco said, dangerously close to sounding like the spoiled pureblood princeling he had acted like for the first few years at Hogwarts.
Narcissa's mouth twitched into a knowing smile, "methinks you did protest a little too much, my dragon. I've had far worse enemies than you two professed to be and never mentioned them half as much. In fact, if your father had been anyone but, well, your father it might have made a fair decent drinking game."
Draco's mouth now hung open in a very undignified gape, Harry was, if possible, even redder, and Hermione looked like she had been given an early Christmas present. Narcissa, with the nonchalance only her impeccable breeding could produce, looked completely uninterested as she picked an invisible piece of lint off Draco's robes.
"I did have the misfortune to try it with some of the elves one summer, but poor Plinka got so tipsy she tried to press my robes while they were still on my body so I had to call it off." She let out a dejected sigh at the memory of her plans being thwarted.
Hermione, at this last comment, let out a small snort of laughter, apparently unable to hold it in any longer. Narcissa looked up, feigning surprise, and addressed Hermione as if they were in the midst of an afternoon tea.
"Poor elf never could hold her liquor," she let out another dramatic sigh of disappointment as Hermione collapsed into Severus' shoulder as silent tears of laughter rolled down her cheeks. After giving the still-gaping Draco a motherly kiss on the forehead, she drifted away to talk to Minerva without another word.
Hermione and Severus were sitting peacefully in their now-joint sitting room that evening. Severus was mocking up battle plans at his desk and Hermione was curled up in a comfy chair by the fire with her nose deep in a notebook crammed full of her own tiny handwriting. All the sudden a tawny ministry owl soared in, landing on Severus' desk and regally extended his leg to Severus, who relieved him of a large, official-looking scroll without comment. Minutes after the owl had left, a second owl of the exact same coloring came soaring in and landed on Severus' desk with a second scroll just like the first.
This time Hermione raised an eyebrow at Severus, but he simply smirked back and set the second scroll on his desk next to the first. When a third tawny owl came in minutes later bearing a third identical scroll, Hermione quietly shut her notebook and padded over to Severus' desk. When he didn't immediately acknowledge her presence, she casually slid the papers he had been looking over sideways on his desk and popped up on it herself, sitting cross-legged in front of Severus with a pointed look on her face.
"Something you wish to share with the class, Professor?" she said jauntily, fixing Severus with his own trademark eyebrow raise.
"Oh these?" he asked casually. Hermione nodded quite pointedly, eliciting a smile from the Slytherin across from her. "Well, remember that potion you wanted to create? The one that heals nerve damage from the Cruciatus curse?"
"Yes. And you're welcome, by the way. How does that pertain to…?" She gestured to the scrolls.
He took the first scroll that had arrived and silently broke the seal, handing it over to her without a word. Hermione looked over it with a look somewhere between suspicion and confusion on her face.
"This is a potions mastery," she said flatly.
"Well spotted, my dear," he responded with characteristic dry wit.
"This is a potions mastery with my name on it."
"Nothing gets by you tonight," he responded, now with more than a hint of a smile on his face.
"Severus," she drew his name out with a tone that all the sudden made his smile falter, "why is this a potions mastery with my name on it?"
"Well, as your master, I deemed that you had covered the necessary coursework to move on to the independent project phase of the mastery, at which point I submitted the necessary paperwork to the ministry and they owled me that gaudy scroll."
"Severus," her tone was now full of warning.
"It was completely within my purview as your master to submit the paperwork for your mastery whenever I deemed you were ready!" He responded waving his hands defensively in front of his chest.
"Severus!"
"Fine, while it was perfectly within my purview as your master," he paused and took a breath for effect, surveying the irritated lion perched on his desk, "it might have better suited for my position as your mate to possibly give you a bit of advanced warning."
Hermione sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, acknowledging his progress with the same derision he usually directed towards a first year who finally managed to chop a doxy wing...on the fifth try.
"Do I dare ask what is in the other two scrolls? I'm praying for your sake that you have two other potions apprentices you've neglected to mention?"
Severus seemed to be reconsidering some life decisions, but carried on anyway.
"Remember how impressed Minerva was when you doubled the potency of that potion when you combined it with cellular-level transfiguration of the injured nerves?" Severus asked warily handing over the second scroll.
Hermione looked it over with an inscrutable look, "so I'm guessing that time Minerva asked me to test out a new format for the transfiguration NEWT exam that was wildly inappropriate for someone with only seven years of transfiguration experience wasn't an accident?"
Severus shook his head, unsuccessfully fighting a proud smirk.
"...and I'm guessing that ridiculously broad research packet Madame Pomfrey had me do that was 'all things I should know off hand so no need to waste the time walking to the library' was also another of your clever little ruses then?"
Severus carefully handed over the third scroll with the same mannerisms a nervous child would use to feed a carnivorous zoo animal.
"And what, pray tell, was the massive independent study project that earned my my Healer's Mastery?" Hermione asked, shaking her head and pinching the bridge of her nose again.
"If you can't see the healing value of a potion that completely reverses the damage done by the cruciatus curse, then I really can't help you-"
Whatever he had planned for the last half of his sentence was lost forever as the witch in front of him threw the newly-received scrolls aside and dove off his desk and into his lap, smashing her lips to his in a feverish kiss. Severus allowed himself to enjoy the kiss for a minute or two before he pulled back just enough to mumble a query against her lips.
"So I'm confused. Are or are you not cross with me?" He went back to kissing her, making it a bit harder for her to mumble her answer back against his own lips.
"No, I'm still quite cross with you, but I also just learned that I have not one, but three masteries, so you'll have to just take one for the team and let me celebrate." She returned to their kiss with renewed fervor.
"I'm not complaining," Severus muttered back, barely intelligible due to his unwillingness to break their kiss to speak. They continued on for a few minutes until Hermione pulled back fully, clearly in the grips of a realization.
"Wait, so if I have three masteries, when this is all over...does that mean I…?" she looked into his eyes, flooring him with the knowledge that a woman so clever and now so well-credentialed still sought his advice on her future plans.
"You, my love," he said, dropping a chaste kiss onto her freckled nose, "will be the most sought-after recruit ever to come out of Hogwarts. You can take the rest of your NEWTs if you feel the inane need to attempt to break my record, but even without them you will be a highly coveted resource. You'll have your pick of any career you wish, within reason."
Hermione smiled up at him with a longing that made his heart ache, "and you?"
Severus ducked his head close and nuzzled the brilliant witch in his lap. "I will be by your side, if you let me."
Apparently this had been the right answer, as Hermione broke into a brilliant smile before resuming their previous heated kiss.
