A/N: UGH I guess this is what I get for uploading 3 times in December lol. Writers block, missing classes for 2 weeks after getting sick on vacation (again), and almost failing 3 midterms later, I'm BACK!
Hope you enjoy this chapter.
P.S: The good (?) news is that Coronavirus has cancelled my university classes till April, so I will probably churn out another chapter this month in my newfound free time! I hope you all are safe and staying healthy! Please take this seriously! I want all my readers to make it to 2021 lol
Malfoy Manor [December 25th]
"Oh, excuse me," Blaise apologized instinctively as he bumped into someone behind him. He turned around and came face to face with a pair of familiar light brown eyes. His lips twitched downwards momentarily before he quickly broke out into a charming smile that didn't quite meet his eyes.
"Hello Ginevra, I did not realize you were attending the ball this year," He forced out in a pleasant tone. He subtly glanced her over and grudgingly appreciated the way her long red tresses were pinned up rather elegantly and the way her deep green dress made her pale skin glow. He swallowed hard, "Green suits you."
She fixed him with a smug smile, "Surprised to see that I can clean up nicely without your help?"
Blaise raised an eyebrow, "I never said you needed my help."
Ginevra faltered, "But you–"
He stepped closer to her and she suddenly felt very small as she looked up at his towering form. His eyes seemed devoid of emotion–so unlike the bright excitement she had always seen in them–and she shivered.
"I know we were raised differently, Ginevra Weasley," He stared down at her with guarded features. "You were different from the girls I had grown up with, and I thought it was a breath of fresh air."
He leaned forward, almost until their chests were touching, "But after you shut me out last year, I realized you were nothing special. You just used me for whatever stupid power games your little girlfriends play and then tossed me aside. I hate to admit it, but Draco was right about you. We really can't shed our upbringing, can we?"
She pushed his chest back, causing his drink to slosh out of his glass and spill onto his dress robes. He glared at her even as she pointed a finger at him accusingly. "How dare you accuse me of using you?" She hissed at him. "You're the one who thought showering me with jewelry and dresses would make me open my legs for you like some cheap harlot!"
Blaise snorted, dabbing the stain on his shirt lightly with his napkin. "Merlin, do you really think I need anything from you, little Ginny Weasley?"
Her jaw dropped open and he chuckled darkly. He wrapped an arm around her waist and forced her to face the rest of the ballroom. Goosebumps ran down her arms as he leaned down to whisper in her ear, "Do you see that, Gin?" He pointed towards the group of giggling girls that blushed under his attention across the room. "I could have any one of them in my bed tonight," He paused to wave at them and smirked, "Probably two or three even."
He looked back down at her and rolled his eyes, "I don't need to shower someone with gifts just to sleep with them. I'm Blaise Zabini."
She squirmed out of his tight hold and glared at him, "Then why give me roses and diamond earrings and dresses that cost more than all my clothes put together? Why did you do it?"
"Look, I gave you a few gifts because I thought you'd like them," He shrugged, "There was no hidden meaning behind it. I bought you gifts because I liked you."
"W-I'm not like the other girls you've been with, Zabini," Ginevra replied. "I thought these gifts were– "
"I'm honestly offended you'd think I'd have to bribe my way into your knickers," Blaise scoffed. "If you didn't like the gifts, you should have told me," He frowned. "Jumping to your own conclusions was childish."
She closed her eyes. "I–I see that now," She admitted grudgingly, "But– "
"I don't have time to babysit you and be with you, Ginevra," Blaise cut her off. "You're a silly schoolgirl. A good palate cleanser, at the most."
She bit her lip, "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I just didn't think someone like you could like someone like me. But now that I know you liked me for the right reasons– "
"It changes nothing," Blaise snapped. "You have your own insecurities to deal with. You're beautiful but your self-doubt makes you unappealing. If anything, you showed me exactly why I could never like someone like you."
"Can you blame me for feeling a bit insecure?" She waved her arm to gesture to the room. "Look around! I'm in a room where everyone hates me. I had to borrow a dress from Astoria just to step through these doors. Everyone knows I don't belong here."
"I'm sorry you feel that way, Ginevra," Blaise looked down at her. "But I have tried to help you navigate this world and you pushed me away because of your own fears. I can't help you if you refuse to see yourself."
She sighed, "Blaise–I–I just needed some time. I'm sorry for pushing you away last year. I really hope that we can be friends again."
He grinned, shaking his finger at her, "Ah ah ah, Ginevra. As refreshing as it is to hear you grovel, not this time. Why should the man always have to chase after the fair maiden? If you want me in your life, you're going to have to prove it this time."
He noticed the not-so-subtle glances they were getting from the few people around them and he discreetly stepped away from her. "Now if you'll excuse me, Miss. Weasley, I have some other business to attend to."
With that, he promptly began to walk away. His mind was reeling as he ran a shaky hand through his hair and downed the rest of his drink in one go. His eyes landed on a familiar blonde and he set his empty glass on a nearby table as he quickly walked over to the other scene that was unfolding in front of him.
"…And where is he now, Greengrass? Left you to play hostess as he's off gallivanting with some other bint?"
"Hadrian is–"
"He's off organizing an elaborate Christmas gift for the lovely Lady Greengrass," Blaise cut in smoothly, resting his hand on Daphne's shoulder. He looked down at her and covered his mouth in fake disbelief, "Oops, I can't believe I just said that. That was supposed to be a surprise."
Daphne smiled at him with relieved eyes and turned back to the dark-haired girl that had been arguing with her. "Padma, I really think you should be concerned with your own life rather than mine."
Padma Patil waved her hand dramatically, splashing her drink over the floor. "He'll leave you, you know. One day you're snogging in the Astronomy Tower and the next day he's head over heels for someone else!"
Daphne flinched, "Padma, I–"
"He might be off getting you a surprise now, but he doesn't love you!"
Daphne stared at the girl in front of her with thinly veiled annoyance before she straightened her shoulders and a slow smile appeared on her face. Blaise felt himself stiffen–it was a look he was all too familiar with.
He watched her casually flick her wrist and Padma suddenly stumbled onto the ground. The champagne flute she was holding slipped out of her fingers onto the marble floor, shattering into a thousand pieces of crystal.
Daphne gasped loudly, causing some of the elder society matrons to look over at them in surprise. Blaise resisted the urge to smile as Daphne kneeled down to help Padma up and looked over her frantically.
"Oh Merlin, Padma! Are you alright?" Daphne exclaimed. "Don't worry, we'll take good care of you."
"What's happened?" An elderly woman and her husband rushed over to them, glancing down at the shattered glass on the floor with concern. "Did she fall?"
"I think my friend just had a little too much to drink," Daphne said apologetically, waving her hand to vanish the shards of crystal. She sighed, "I told her to slow down a while ago, but she never listens to me."
The woman looked at Padma in disdain, "I know how these girls can be. Always overindulging and making a fool out of themselves. It's good she has a friend like you to take care of her."
Her husband nodded in agreement and smiled warmly at Daphne, "Our society needs more young women like you, dear."
Daphne bit her lip, "I just hope one day she can get the help she needs."
The couple shot Daphne a sympathetic look before shaking their heads in disappointment at Padma, walking away to join the rest of their friends eager to share the spectacle they had just witnessed.
Padma's eyes widened as she processed the incident. "I'm not an alcoholic! I was drinking sparkling cider all night!" She hissed. "How dare you–"
"Padma, dear, it's best you calm down now," Daphne smiled sweetly at her. "You don't want to cause a scene, do you?"
Padma's jaw dropped open in disbelief and Daphne continued on as though nothing had happened.
"Why don't you let Blaise escort you back to your family? I think you've said enough for one night."
Blaise smirked and graciously offered his arm to the sputtering girl in front of him. He looked down at her when she didn't move, "I suggest you take my arm now, Patil. The best thing you can do for yourself is make a quiet exit."
Padma shot Daphne an angry look before reluctantly accepting his arm. Daphne watched them walk away, a faux look of concern on her face.
"That was quite a show."
Daphne turned around slowly to come face to face with none other than the elegant Narcissa Malfoy. She blushed, "Lady Malfoy, I apologize for the spectacle, I just–"
Narcissa waved her hand unconcernedly, "You handled that better than most women twice your age." She wrinkled her nose, "You certainly made sure she left a horrible impression."
"She was questioning my relationship with Hadrian," Daphne admitted quietly. "I couldn't allow that."
Narcissa took a small sip of her drink, "You remind me of myself at your age, Miss. Greengrass."
"Oh?"
The matriarch of the Malfoy family pursed her lips, "I can't quite decide whether that's a good thing."
"What a terrible thing to say about one's self," Daphne frowned.
Narcissa laughed, "Oh, sweetheart, I did not intend to offend you. But surely a clever witch such as yourself must see the burden that comes with publicly linking yourself with someone powerful. Someone like Hadrian Riddle."
The younger witch raised an eyebrow, "Forgive me, but I don't see it as a burden, Lady Malfoy."
Narcissa peered down at her with a strange look in her eyes, "Not yet," She paused, and her voice was cold as she spoke, "It only gets more difficult from here, Miss Greengrass."
"Then so be it," Daphne said firmly. "That's the cost of lo–loyalty."
Narcissa narrowed her eyes ever so slightly, "It's a rather hefty price to pay without consideration," She discreetly gestured to the ballroom around her, "You must decide if all of this … is worth it."
Daphne met the elder witch's piercing stare and her lips curved up into a tight smile, "I don't need that," She shook her head, causing a few loose blonde curls to escape from her intricate hairstyle. "I already know what I want."
"Of course," Narcissa nodded, "But does he?"
Daphne felt her shoulders stiffen and Narcissa pressed on, undeterred. "I've seen them change, Miss Greengrass. I've seen the years and the power turn them all into a blasphemous rendition of the man they used to be. You would be a fool to assume he will remain as he is now. Love or loyalty–whatever you wish to call it–will never be enough."
Daphne lifted her chin defiantly. "I am not a fool, Lady Malfoy," She said evenly, refusing to break her gaze. "I know he will not remain as he is now forever. But when he does change and grow into the leader he was destined to be, it will be by my side. He may not know what he wants just yet, but I do."
Narcissa hid the small smile that played at her lips by taking another sip of her drink.
"Behind every powerful man…" She thought to herself.
Hadrian stared at the lifeless body on the kitchen floor with mild distaste. He stood at the edge of the pool of blood that spanned the tiles on the ground, reluctant to get his new formal shoes dirty. He gritted his teeth together, loosening the tie that Narcissa had expertly tied around his neck.
"Let me get this straight," He began slowly, "You were studying at the kitchen counter."
"Yes," Hermione nodded from where she was standing at the opposite side of the room.
"And then your father came in, angry and completely sloshed."
"Yes."
Hadrian inhaled sharply and raised his voice, "And then you fucking killed him?"
"Don't snap at her!" Draco scowled at him, crossing the room to move closer to where Hermione stood. "She's already horrified by this!"
"What the fuck?" Hadrian exclaimed. He watched his best friend awkwardly hold out his arms and his eyebrows rose to his hairline as Hermione-Muggleborn-Granger ran into them without hesitation.
His eyes widened as he saw Draco soothingly rubbing circles on her back as she began to sob loudly into his chest. Even more strange was the fact that he didn't even seem upset that she was ruining his Egyptian silk dress robes.
"What the fuck," Hadrian whispered to himself as he watched his friend–who claimed to hate the girl in his arms–tenderly wipe away her tears and whisper something to her.
Hadrian's jaw dropped open. "Uh, hello? Is anyone going to tell me what the bloody hell is going on?"
Slowly the pair broke apart and it was Draco who answered his question. "There's been a bit of an accident," He explained, pushing back the white-blond hair that had fallen into his eyes.
"Yes, I can see that, Draco," Hadrian rolled his eyes. "I meant how did that happen? And while we're at it, how did this happen?" He gestured to the two of them.
"I think we all need to take a step back and think about this," Draco spoke calmly. He turned to Hermione, "Granger, why don't you go upstairs, take a minute to collect yourself and meet us in the living room."
She shook her head, "I'm perfectly fine–I just–I'm fine, alright? I can handle it."
Draco pursed his lips, "At least go and change your clothes. I know you don't honestly want to sit in pajamas stained by your father's blood for a second longer."
She looked down at her clothes with a look of surprise, as if she was just now registering her pants had turned a dark shade of burgundy and her hands were covered in dried blood that didn't belong to her. She swallowed hard and nodded, stepping over the puddle of blood to quickly make her way up the stairs to her bedroom.
"Are we going to talk about this?" Hadrian demanded to know as Draco walked over to the doorway.
Draco shrugged, stepping around him to make his way to the living room, "Let's wait for Granger. I'm certainly not going to stand here and discuss anything over a dead body."
Hadrian scoffed and followed him into the living room. Ten minutes of glaring at Draco later, he heard the stairs beside them creak as Hermione raced down the steps.
His shock only grew as she willingly chose to sit beside him on the couch, and Draco casually wrapped an arm around her shoulders as though he had done it hundreds of times before.
Hadrian rubbed his temples and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He looked over at Hermione with a serious look in his eyes and barked, "Start from the beginning. What happened?"
Hermione looked down at her hands and said, "I didn't plan on killing him, if that's what you were wondering. It was an accident."
Hadrian raised an eyebrow skeptically and she sighed heavily.
"Alright it wasn't an accident," She admitted, wringing her hands in her lap. "But I truly didn't plan on killing him. I just couldn't live another second with him. He just–"Her voice cracked slightly and she pressed her hands into her face as she became choked up.
"Hey, it's alright, Granger. Don't worry. You did nothing wrong," Draco said to her gently and Hadrian shot him an incredulous look.
"Are you serious? We have a dead body in the kitchen!" Hadrian spat. "Hermione, I'm going to ask you this one more time. What. Happened?"
He frowned slightly and his eyes softened as he hesitantly asked, "D–did he try to…you know? Did he try to touch you?"
Draco stood up abruptly and his eyes darkened. "I'll kill him again if he even tried to touch you."
Hermione shook her head quickly, "No-no it was nothing like that. It was nothing he did that was different from his usual treatment. It was me. I just snapped. When he grabbed my arm, I couldn't take it anymore. I was done being some rag doll for him to toss around."
Hadrian pinched the bridge of his nose, "Hermione as much as I appreciate you finally standing up for yourself, there are ways to do that without killing someone."
She stiffened and gave Hadrian a hateful glare. "I don't regret a single second of it," She stood up from the couch and chuckled humorlessly, "I'd do it again if I had the chance."
"Yeah, that's great and all. I'll be sure to congratulate you on your first successful murder, but I don't think they make cards for that!" He snapped, ignoring her quickly growing anger.
Draco cleared his throat, "This is getting us nowhere. We need to deal with the body and figure out a way out of this before we get a visit from the Aurors or the Muggle Aurors."
"They're called police, you dunce," Hadrian rolled his eyes.
"Police, you mean," Hermione corrected at the same time.
Draco shook his head, "Stop acting like children, both of you. Hermione," Draco paused and swallowed the lump in his throat, "How did he die?"
Hermione felt her shoulders sag and she wiped away a tear with the back of her hand. "I really didn't mean to kill him," She mumbled. "I think it was my accidental magic. I just felt his hand bruising my arm and something inside me broke. All I remember was standing up and I shouted something and all of a sudden, he was on the ground, unmoving."
"What about the blood?" Hadrian pointed out. "Where did that come from?"
Hermione frowned, "I don't know. He might've hit his head on the counter as he fell down."
"That's not possible, he didn't have any visible head injury when we saw him," Draco murmured. "What did you shout at him? Before he dropped dead?"
Hermione's eyes widened all of a sudden. "I–I didn't think it would work. I didn't even have my wand with me."
"Hermione what did you shout," Hadrian ground out.
She closed her eyes, "It's an old spell that I found in one of the books you gave me. It was just instinctual. I was so angry. I just wanted him gone."
"Wordless magic powerful enough to kill a man," Hadrian let out a low whistle. "I don't think any other dark witch–not even Bellatrix Lestrange–has that kind of power."
"I'm not a dark witch!" Hermione cried out. "I made a mistake."
"Mistake or not, it was still powerful," Hadrian insisted. He crossed his arms across his chest and his voice softened, "Hermione, don't be so upset. The man deserved to die. If you didn't do it, I would've killed him at some point. Even Daphne would've probably gotten her hands dirty if it meant you'd be safe. I'm not saying you did the right thing, but that man deserved this. He was a monster."
"We just have to figure out how to clean up this mess," Draco explained. "The Aurors can only trace magic done with your wand. But if you didn't use your wand…"
"Then they won't know that it was me," Hermione finished. "But whether it's the Aurors or the muggle police, they'll still investigate, won't they?"
"The muggle police won't be able to figure out magic was involved, but they will be suspicious because he has no visible injuries but was found in a pool of his own blood," Hadrian thought out loud.
"Well then, I suppose we're going to have to make it look like he died the muggle way, won't we?" Draco smirked.
"What does that mean?" Hermione looked between the two of them suspiciously, "What do you plan on doing?"
Hadrian exchanged a look with Draco, "It's probably best you don't know."
When Sirius apparated them all back to Riddle Manor, Hadrian was surprised to see Daphne waiting for them in the parlor. She took one look at their haphazard state and gasped, "What happened?"
"It's a long story," Hadrian muttered. He waved goodbye to Sirius before the man apparated away, probably back to his prison at the Lestrange Estates.
"Hermione?" Daphne called out, "Are you alright?"
"She's fine," Draco responded after Hermione stayed frozen in silence. He wrapped an arm around her waist to support her tired form and sighed, "We've all had a long night. I'm going to go set her up in one of the bedrooms in the residential wing."
"They're all full," Daphne shook her head. "Me, Destiny, Blaise and Neville just came here from the Ball. We thought you could use some help, but we didn't know you'd take this long. Everyone else is asleep. Blaise took one room, Destiny took her usual room, and Neville took the last one. I can ask Neville to move into Destiny's room–"
"Absolutely not," Hadrian interrupted with a scowl.
"Or, you can put her in one of the rooms in the guest wing," Daphne continued on as if she hadn't heard Hadrian protest.
"She can't sleep in the guest wing; she's been through a lot tonight. What if she has a nightmare or something, we won't even be able to hear her from the guest wing." Draco argued.
"I'll be fine," Hermione finally spoke up. "I just need to lay down."
"Don't be ridiculous," Draco said. "You can just sleep in my room. I'll sleep on the floor."
"You'll sleep on the floor?" Hadrian scoffed. "You've never slept on the floor."
"That's not true, I slept on the floor once in third year," Draco pointed out nonchalantly. He gently pulled Hermione towards the staircase, "It'll be fine. Don't worry about us. Focus on getting some rest yourselves."
He ignored his friends' looks of skepticism as he helped Hermione up the staircase towards his room. Despite her tired state, she still looked at his room in disbelief as he opened the door for her.
"Why is your room bigger than half my house?" She muttered as he wandlessly turned on the lights. She walked towards his bed and sat down with a frown, "Do you literally have silk sheets?"
"They're very comfortable," He defended himself as he walked to the other side of the bed. He was about to pull back the sheets when suddenly she turned to him and crossed her arms across her chest.
"I thought you said you were sleeping on the floor," She raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, only so Hadrian and Daphne wouldn't think anything of it," He rolled his eyes.
"Well, I'm not sleeping in the same bed as you," She shook her head. "I barely like you."
"Fine, then you sleep on the floor," He shrugged.
"I'm not sleeping on the floor, I'm the girl," Hermione scoffed.
"What happened to your earlier argument of 'Malfoy, how can you believe in these sexist stereotypes, women can do anything men can do'!" He mocked her.
"It's not a question of sexism, it's just being polite," She sneered.
He growled under his breath and grabbed one of his pillows, "Fine, if you insist." He pulled one of the blankets off his bed and sullenly threw it onto the ground. He settled onto the cold floor with an exaggerated huff and waved his hands to turn off the lights.
He had closed his eyes for about two minutes when he heard her begin to toss and turn in his bed. He was determined to ignore her until she spoke.
"I don't–"Her voice faltered, "I don't feel bad. Why don't I feel bad?"
He reluctantly opened his eyes. "Granger that man was a monster. He deserved to die."
"Nobody deserves to die," She whispered.
"There are worse things than death," Draco pointed out. "Like this floor," He mumbled.
She sighed loudly, "For god's sake, fine, just come up here. But don't touch me."
"Gladly," He muttered. He tossed his pillow back onto the bed and pulled back his sheets, comfortably settling into the bed.
She was silent for a minute and he groaned, "Granger, I can hear you overthinking from here."
"Then get back on the floor," She retorted.
He pressed his eyes shut, "Stop. You're punishing yourself over something that had to happen. If you didn't do it, someone else would have. It's over now. You're free, Granger."
"At what cost, Malfoy? Now I'm the monster," She whispered.
"Why do you make it sound so morbid," He rolled his eyes in the dark. "You're not the monster, you killed the monster. That makes you the hero in this story."
She turned to face him rather suddenly, shaking the bed with her movement. "I took a life, Draco. Whatever you call me, it doesn't change the fact that I killed someone. My own father, no less. I'm no better than he was."
"Don't be so dramatic," He yawned.
"I'm a murderer. How can you even sleep next to me?"
"You're right, I can't sleep next to you," He turned to look at her with annoyance, "How am I going to be able to sleep if you're contemplating your entire life and having an existential crisis next to me? Very loudly!"
"This isn't funny, Draco. You don't get it–"
"No, but I do get it," He interrupted her. "He hurt you, Granger. He abused you for years and hated your magic and was nothing but horrible, even by muggle standards. Open your eyes. Maybe killing him wasn't the right answer but it was still a solution to your problems."
"But I–"
He pressed a finger against her lips, "Can you stop talking, witch? I'm trying to tell you that you're worth a hundred times more than that terrible excuse for a human."
"Draco I–"
"You heard Hadrian earlier. If you hadn't killed him, one of us would have. You're a powerful witch, Granger. You need to start seeing yourself the way everyone else sees you. You're the brightest witch of our age, it's time you start acting like it."
He heard her sigh and she whispered, "Okay."
He closed his tired eyes, ready to finally fall asleep. He had barely closed his eyes when he heard:
"Draco–"
"What now?" He snapped.
"Get your hand off my arse, you prat."
"I'm afraid I'm too tired to move my hand. Now go to sleep, Granger."
She smiled to herself in the dark, "Goodnight."
Riddle Manor [December 26th]
Hadrian was sure he had spent hours staring unblinkingly at the spiral patterns in his ceiling before he was able to close his eyes and finally fall asleep the night before.
When he woke up, the sunlight streaming in through his windows made his bloodshot eyes sting and he raised a tired hand to cover his face.
"Oh good, you're up!"
Hadrian blinked slowly, letting his vision adjust to the brightness in the room before he finally moved his hand away from his face. His brows furrowed in confusion as Daphne walked out of his washroom, drying her hair with one of his towels as the steam from the shower drifted out behind her. Her soaking wet hair dripped across his floors and her cheeks were flushed an alluring shade of red from the heat.
"Is that my shirt?" He smirked at her.
Daphne shrugged, "I wasn't originally planning on staying the night, and I certainly wasn't going to sleep in a ballgown." She bit her lip and played with the bottom of his shirt. "I assumed it would be alright with you," She looked at him over her shoulder and gave him a sly look, "I hope you don't mind–I made a few adjustments."
His eyes lingered on how the pale blue shirt had stretched tightly across her chest and brushed across the middle of her thighs. He let out an involuntary groan, "You are one evil witch."
Daphne laughed, "Well, I was sorted into Slytherin, darling."
"Keep it," He told her hoarsely, "You wear it better than I do, anyways."
"If you say so," She smiled innocently.
She sauntered over to him, sitting on her side of the bed as she reached over to the nightstand to grab her hairbrush. "We should be getting ready to go downstairs, Hadrian."
He rolled over onto his side and watched her brush her hair. "Why?" He asked simply.
She set down her hairbrush and turned to face him with a frown, "We have to go check up on Hermione, come up with a cover story–not just for our parents but for Hermione too. There's so much to do and I–"
She let out a soft yelp as he grabbed her waist, pulling her beside him on the bed and wrapping his arms tightly around her. She tried to unwrap his arms from her body, but somehow it only made him tighten his hold.
"Hadrian," She began seriously, "What are you doing?"
He buried his face into her neck. "I am enjoying a relaxing morning," He mumbled into her hair.
"We can't–We have to go deal with this–"
"And we will," Hadrian said smoothly, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "After we have a nice breakfast in bed."
"Mipsy!" He called out, before Daphne could argue. There was a soft pop as the houself appeared in their room, and Daphne blushed scarlet at their entwined position. Discreetly, she tried to tug his shirt down to cover her exposed skin.
"Mipsy, could you bring up some breakfast for us," Hadrian asked the small elf, "Oh, and some of that raspberry jam too if you can scour some up in the kitchens."
"Of course, Master!" The houself preened, "Mipsy will bring up breakfast right away."
Daphne felt her face burn in embarrassment as the elf disappeared, and she turned around in Hadrian's arms to hit his chest lightly. "What if Mipsy talks with the elves that work in my kitchen? And Mother overhears? She'd be so disappointed in me."
Hadrian felt his lips curve upward, "You can always win her over with your stellar alteration abilities."
"It's not funny, you prat," Daphne muttered even as he began to laugh. "This is the last time I'm wearing anything like this. Next time I'll be in a floor length flannel nightgown like the old society matrons wear."
He arched a brow, "Yes, because an excess amount of cloth is surely indestructible."
She yanked the silk sheets on his bed up to her neck and scowled, "Fine then, I'll wear a potato sack."
Hadrian rolled his eyes, "You and I both know you'd never be caught dead in anything less than couture," He nudged her shoulder, "Besides, you'd look fit in anything."
"How romantic," Daphne snorted. "Wherever did you learn to sweet talk the ladies?"
"Definitely somewhere better than Draco," Hadrian scoffed.
"I don't know, darling," Daphne twirled a lock of her hair playfully, "He seemed to still get Hermione despite his strategy being 'insult her till she falls head over heels'."
Hadrian propped his head up with his hand and looked at her with wide eyes, "Can we talk about how weird that is? The bloke hated her. I swear he called her a bushy haired beaver just a week ago."
Daphne laughed, "I think it's kind of sweet. You know when little boys are too afraid to approach their crush, so they tease her until she cries to get her attention?"
"While I agree that Draco has the maturity of a small child, that doesn't explain anything," Hadrian shook his head. "When did this–," He grimaced and corrected himself, "When did they even happen? And how did I miss it?"
"You're a bit dense when it comes to these things, sweetheart," Daphne pointed out. "You didn't even know about Neville and Destiny till fourth year."
He frowned, "When did you find out?"
"Destiny told me right after they had their first kiss," Daphne said smugly, "In the first week of second year."
"Nobody tells me anything," He complained. "Don't tell me you also knew about Draco and Hermione for years."
"I suspected something was going on," She revealed. "Nobody hates anyone that much without there being some other underlying emotion." She noticed his put-out look and she kissed his cheek, "If it makes you feel any better, Draco only confirmed my suspicions recently."
His eyes widened in realization, "At the train station! He was saying he he didn't love someone–Merlin, he's in love with Hermione?"
"I don't know if he loves her yet but he's pretty close."
"How do you just know these things," He stared at her in awe. "And how does Hermione actually like him back? I thought she was smart."
"Hadrian, he's your best friend," Daphne chided.
He nodded, "Exactly. I know Draco. He's completely undeserving of her."
Daphne rolled her eyes, "Give him a little credit. He's been trying to change for a while now, even if you haven't noticed. He hasn't called her a mudblood since the third year."
"What a Saint," Hadrian scoffed. "You should've seen the way she ran right to him, Daphne. It was like they've been carrying on some clandestine love affair for years. And Draco–he didn't even hesitate to touch her. It was like some alternate universe."
Daphne quickly sat up in the bed as she saw Mipsy pop back into their bedroom with a breakfast tray laden with several items. "Thank you, Mipsy," She smiled warmly at the elf before it disappeared again.
Daphne began to pour herself a cup of tea. "I know it's difficult, darling, but you have to accept the fact that against all odds, Draco has managed to land himself possibly the only girl that can tolerate him."
"What was wrong with Nott?" Hadrian grumbled as he reached for a strawberry, "He seemed perfectly interested in Hermione. But no, she had to go for the ponce who ridiculed her for years."
"Love is blind," Daphne murmured as she unfolded the copy of the Daily Prophet the elf had thoughtfully included with their breakfast.
"But it's not deaf," Hadrian retorted.
He crossed his arms across his chest, "I'm Draco's best mate, but I'll be the first to say Hermione deserves someone who actually appreciates her. Draco has no right to say all the cruel things he's said to her in the past."
"Draco has no right to say most of what comes out of his mouth," Daphne replied flippantly, "It's never stopped him before."
"I just want to know how it happened. And how long it's been going on. I'm just trying to look out for Hermione, you know. Especially now. It's like she completely snapped last night."
He looked over at Daphne with a frown when she remained silent. He nudged her arm gently as she continued to stare at the Daily Prophet. "What is it?" He asked.
Daphne's hands trembled for a second as her eyes danced over the front page of the newspaper. "L-Lily Potter in Azkaban?" She read aloud, raising her hand to cover her gasp of surprise. She turned to face Hadrian, "Did you know about this?"
Hadrian shrugged, lazily taking a sip of his orange juice.
"She's being charged with the attempted murder of James Potter. Her own husband! He's head of the Auror Department–what would make her do such a thing?" Daphne exclaimed in horror.
"Wait a second, attempted murder?" Hadrian repeated, leaning into her side to read the headline for himself.
"Yes, apparently she was caught trying to poison him and then subsequently thrown into Azkaban," Daphne informed him. She looked over at him and caught a pleased glint pass through his steely eyes. "You did know!" She accused.
He kept his eyes trained on buttering the toast set in front of him. "I may have insinuated that killing him would earn my forgiveness," He frowned at the paper, "Clearly, she can't even complete one task properly. Not that I ever thought she could pull it off."
Her eyes widened, "Hadrian, how could you ask that–"
"I decided it was a perfectly reasonable request," He said evenly, "After all, she did ruin my life."
She pursed her lips. "Well, trying to earn your forgiveness caused her to land a lifetime sentence in Azkaban." She paused, "Are you going to get her out?"
"Hm," He took a bite of his toast and chewed thoughtfully, "I don't think so."
"She's your mother, Hadrian," Daphne said quietly, looking at the utterly broken face of Lily Potter staring up at her from the newspaper. "She did all this for you."
Hadrian suddenly dropped his half-eaten toast on his plate and moved his sheets off his body, standing up from his bed. He ran a hand through his hair and Daphne watched his features harden with an emotion she couldn't place.
"She's not my mother," Hadrian spat. He stalked off toward the washroom with tense shoulders. "She can rot in Azkaban for all I care," He hissed before slamming the door shut.
