1993 - Third Year
"Are you sure you have to go home for Christmas?" Hermione asked Draco.
Draco looked up from his book as he lay across the sofa in front of the fireplace in their room, he observed his Gryffindor friend as she surrounded herself in books and parchments, studying for exams that were months away.
He couldn't help but smirk at the sight before him, unsurprised that this was how she had chosen to spend her evenings leading up to Christmas. Hermione did not look up from her books as she spoke, she simply turned another page and continued to make notes.
"Unfortunately yes, I'm sure. My father has some business he wants me to attend to with him."
"I'm not sure I like the sound of that."
"That makes two of us." He sighed, resting his book against his chest before he looked up at the ceiling, losing himself in his thoughts.
Before he lost himself entirely in what Hermione could only imagine would be a dark place, she broke through the silence.
"How confident are you in your skills of Occlumancy?"
"Pretty confident."
"Pretty confident?" she mimicked as she looked up from her book.
"I can invade almost as good as I can keep out, and I'm pretty confident I could keep anyone out of my mind by now. My mother's main focus recently has been teaching me to manipulate my memories."
Hermione placed the book she had been reading down, along with her quill and looked up at him with her full attention, waiting for further explanation.
"For a while she wanted me to be able to master the ability to be able to deter someone away from a particular thought, take you for example. I have to be able to force someone into a different direction if they were getting close to discovering my memories with you. That was never ideal, but it was a start." Draco placed his book down beside him and shifted himself into an upright position on the sofa.
"Then I had to be able to replace the diversion with another memory I wasn't too bothered about being discovered, again, not Ideal but that would at least lessen the suspicion somewhat."
"And now?" Hermione pushed herself up from the ground and moved to the sofa where Draco lay, taking a seat at the end.
"Now I'm learning how to create false memories."
"But what use would that be?"
"To a mildly skilled legilimens, not being able to access someone's mind or only being able to reach a fraction of the memories whilst not being able to make complete sense of it all, that would be expected. My previous teachings will work fine in that instance. However, to a highly skilled legilimens, that would raise alarm bells, that would give away that I had been trained, therefore raise suspicion as to what I was hiding for me to need to be trained in the first place."
He paused for a moment as he moved his legs from the sofa, stretching slightly before he rested his arms against his knees and faced the floor.
"Being able to create false memories would mean that someone highly skilled wouldn't know any different, there would be no diverting, no confusing patches of memories… to them, they would all be there, only I would know that what they're seeing is false, but it's hard work and takes a lot of practising." Draco emphasised the words a lot, making Hermione wince slightly.
"Does this technique hurt?"
Draco remained still for a moment, his eyes fixated on his feet.
It was difficult to explain to someone who had never had their mind invaded what the pain of it felt like and he'd hoped she would never find out. Although he had gotten over the initial pain of someone entering his mind, became skilled enough to stop almost anyone from even trying to, with each new technique he learnt came a whole new pain.
"Mr Malfoy, don't let your current level of skill make you overly confident. You still have much more to learn." Snape told Draco as he sat on a chair in his office, his head in his hands.
"I'm trying." Draco responded through gritted teeth.
"Evidently, not hard enough." Snape drawled. He moved slowly across his office and reached for the pitcher of water before pouring the contents into a goblet. Draco looked up though his ruffled hair and scowled at his professor before he snatched the water out of his hands, downing the entirety of it.
"Take a deep breath and let's try again."
"What is a deep breath going to achieve?! Am I going to suddenly inhale the ability to be able to pull memories out of my arse!" Draco snapped.
"The sooner you stop acting like a spoilt little child, the easier this will be."
"BUT I AM A CHILD!" Draco stood from his seat and threw the cup to the ground, the noise echoed loudly through Snape's otherwise silent office.
Snape looked at him, in his usual emotionless way, watching him panting with rage, his fists clenched into balls either side of him.
"Are you done?" He asked Draco calmly.
Draco closed his eyes, inhaled a deep breath and held onto it for a second before letting go, opening his eyes once more. He moved back to the sofa and sat down, resuming his usual position for his Occlumency lessons, before he nodded at his professor.
Snape reached down to the ground for the cup, uncharacteristically slowly, he moved to place it back onto the table and remained facing away from Draco.
Draco became uncomfortable in the silence that had built since his outburst but before he could say something, Snape spoke.
"I will only say this once Draco." He started, the use of his first name made Draco shift in his seat with nerves as he stared at the back of his professor's head.
"You are a Malfoy. Your father is a Death Eater, a follower to one of the most powerful dark wizards to go down in history." His nose wrinkled at the mention of Voldemort, even not by name, "You are fully aware of the Death Eaters plans, they may seem like idealists to you, but they are not far off achieving what they have worked so hard on for the past 13 years."
Draco felt sick, he had suspicions they were getting closer, but having someone else say it out loud, confirming that the Death Eaters were getting closer to reaching their goal, made it all the more real.
"IF they succeed, I cannot begin to tell you the danger you will be in. Your family was heavily involved when the Dark Lord was alive, do you have some misguided illusion it will be different the second time round? Because it wont." Snape sighed and closed his eyes momentarily, the thought of Voldemort's return unsettled him just as much if not more than it did Draco, for he remembered, he could foresee what the world would be like if he was to return.
"So yes, you are a child for all intents and purposes. You are at an age where being naive and idiotic with you main focus being Quidditch and girls is deemed normal. However." He turned to face Draco, his expression serious and his tone low.
"At your current level of skill, you may be able to fool someone such as myself, you may even be ready to fool the likes of your Aunt Bellatrix, but if the Dark Lord returns. You will not be able to fool him."
Draco's mouth dried up as he tried to swallow back his fear. When he first started his lessons with his mother in first year, he had always been told it was so that he could keep his father and surrounding Death Eaters out of his mind if it came to it. The older he got, the more he realised there was a bigger reason for the lessons, although he never imagined Voldemort would be the reason.
"Not yet." Snape added before he moved close to Draco. "I'm not saying any of this is fair, you will learn this, but more importantly, you can learn this, you're almost there already."
Encouraging words from Professor Snape was something Draco never thought he would experience, he wasn't sure whether or not to be calmed by it, or more unsettled.
Clearing his throat, he adjusted himself in his seat. He took one last deep breath and nodded at his professor before he heard Snape cast his spell and enter his mind.
"What're you doing here!? This is the girls' toilets!" Hermione squealed quickly, wiping away the tears that had been streaming down her face moments ago.
"Is it? I hadn't noticed. It sounded like someone was being brutally murdered so I thought I'd come check it out." Draco said nonchalantly as he made his way over to lean against a cubicle.
"Sorry to disappoint, but it's just me, so you can be on your way," Hermione said sharply as she turned away from him towards the mirror.
* Draco stiffened in his seat and held his breath, his eyebrows furrowed as he used every ounce of his strength to manipulate the memorie he had allowed Snape to access. The familiar stabbing feeling in the back of his head returned as the pressure on his temples intensified. *
"Oh I don't know, finding you here in tears is just as good of a discovery."
"I'm not crying."
"Sure you are, I mean, you usually look like you've been dragged through a hedge backwards, but today you look like you've taken a beating along the way. Your eyes and face are all puffy. Crying over Weasley?" Draco's snarky voice caused Hermione to twist suddenly, fresh tears appearing in her eyes.
"Go away Malfoy."
"But this is so much fun, I can tell I'm making the situation so much better." He smirked.
"GET OUT." She shouted at him, stepping closer as the tears poured out of her eyes.
"Ok ok, don't step any closer, I wouldn't want your filthy Mudblood tears staining my robes." He said as he held up his hands and left Hermione behind.
Draco exhaled as Snape came away from the memory and detached himself from Draco's mind.
A smile formed on Draco's lips as an overwhelming sense of achievement washed over him, he looked towards his professor who wore a mixture of emotions, both distressed and satisfied. He had finally done it.
Draco moved his head to face Hermione and smiled.
"No. It's fairly easy once you get the hang of it." He lied.
Hermione signed, relaxing her shoulders. He hated lying to her, but he hated worrying her even more. Once she allowed herself to relax slightly from her studies she felt her eyes become heavy, the day's worries slowly leaving her body the more she sunk into the sofa.
"You need to take a breather, spend less time… well, messing about with time to do more work. Hermione, you're stretching yourself too far."
She could only bring herself to hum in response before she began to drift off in her seat.
Draco reached over and guided her down to the sofa so that she lay across his lap. She made a small sigh of approval as he gently stroked the hair out on her face and continued to run his fingers softly over her head.
These were his favourite moments. Just him and her, in their secret room, Hermione asleep, not worrying or fussing over her studies, whilst he had what felt like an endless amount of time to admire her, until sleep took over him also.
~X~
"Hermione! Wake up, it's Christmas!" Hermione heard Ron's voice echo through her dorm room at 7 o'clock on Christmas day. She shot up in her bed, alarmed by the idea that he was in her room before she realised she was alone.
She unwillingly dragged herself from her bed and reached for her dressing gown, unable to muster up the energy to get out of her Pyjamas just yet.
Hermione opened the door to her dorm room and instantly heard the noise of paper rapidly being torn coming from down below in the common room.
'Couldn't wait 2 minutes.' she thought to herself.
"Morning." She grumbled before pouring herself a warm drink and taking a seat on the large chesterfield next to the Christmas tree, her favourite chair in the common room which she found she had all to herself now most students had left for Christmas break, the smell of the leather frame she rested her head against reminded her of old libraries.
It was only once she was seated that she realised her friends hadn't even noticed her entering the room, they were much more interested in the long parcel Harry held onto.
"What's that?" Hermione asked, finally getting some recognition from Harry.
"I'm not sure, it looks like a broo-"
"IT'S A FIREBOLT!" Ron interrupted Harry, startling Hermione, as well as Crookshanks who had been sleeping besides the fire. Hermione's cat scowled at Ron before he stalked out of the room, Hermione gave him an apologetic look in the process and earned herself no response from her feline companion.
She watched as her friends tore away the remainder of the brown wrapping paper from the broom, her friends expressions resembled what she imagined love at first sight would look like.
"Who's it from?" Hermione asked, neither of her friends responded.
She rose from her seat and moved towards Harry and Ron who were still eyeing every inch of Harry's new broom, but Hermione couldn't find a note anywhere that belonged to the gift.
"Harry, who is it from?" She asked once more.
"Does it matter?"
"Yes Ronald, it does."
"I'm not sure…" Harry said warily, anticipating her response.
"You're not sure like - you couldn't recognise the writing on the note or you're not sure like - you didn't get a note?"
"The second one." Harry said sheepishly.
"Harry you can't use this!"
"Why the hell not!?" Ron protested, more outraged by Hermione's words than Harry was.
"Because, Ronald, need I remind you that there is a murderer at large that coincidentally wants to kill Harry?"
"But what has that got to do with this broom? Sirius Black isn't going to buy Harry a broom to kill him."
"Why not? It's the perfect plan. Buy the best broom there is, appeal to your interests and enchant it to explode once it's reached a certain altitude, or better yet, enchant it to bring you to him. Leading a victim to its prey.."
Harry and Ron stopped what they were doing and stared at Hermione.
"You're scary sometimes, y'know that?" Ron said quietly.
"I'm realistic. You have to turn it over Harry."
"No."
"But-"
"No Hermione. You said the same thing about my Invisibility Cloak and look how much that helped us out."
Hermione knew it was useless to argue with them, especially when it was two against one, that made it all the more difficult to make them see sense. Instead, she turned back to her seat and continued to drink her tea as she battled with the idea of telling a Professor about Harry's Gift.
~X~
Hermione walked through the portrait to the Gryffindor common room, filled with regret. Earlier in the day the side of her battling to tell a Professor had beaten the side that wanted to let her friends enjoy Harry's new gift.
She had made a visit to Professor McGonagall who had agreed that the gift seemed suspicious and it should be checked, although she failed to mention that she knew of Sirius Blacks real intentions for escaping Azkaban. Once she had confirmed that, Hermione left her office and headed back to the common room, but before she had reached the portrait, she was filled with dread.
This was not only going to upset her friends, but it would make them angry. She wasn't sure she was prepared to have an argument with them over Christmas, especially when Draco wasn't around for her to vent to afterwards. She wondered for a moment whether or not she had done the right thing, but she knew deep down that she had, she wanted to keep them safe.
She moved across the common room, ignoring the small crowd that swooned over Harry's broom, reached for her book and pretended to read. Filled with worry of how her friends were going to react, she paid no notice of the words on the page in front of her.
Just a few seconds later the portrait door opened and Professor McGonagall walked through, causing a couple of the students' heads to turn, but the others were too engrossed in the broom to notice she had even arrived.
"So that's it, is it?" Said Professor McGonagall, walking over to the fireside as she stared at the Firebolt that rested across the sofa, taking up three seats of its own.
Harry and Ron looked around at Hermione. They could see her forehead reddening over the top of her upside-down book.
"May I?" Professor McGonagall said, but she didn't wait for an answer before pulling the Firebolt off the sofa. She examined it carefully from handle to twig-ends. "Hmm. And there was no note at all Potter? No card? No message of any kind?"
"No," said Harry blankly.
"I see…well, I'm afraid I will have to take it then."
"W-what!?" Harry stuttered, scrambling to his feet along with his friends. "Why?"
"It will need to be checked for jinxes," she spoke sternly. "Of course, I'm no expert, but I daresay Madam Hooch and Professor Flitwick will strip it down-"
"Strip it down!?" Ron repeated, infuriated by the meer suggestion of stripping down Harry's Firebolt.
"It shouldn't take more than a few weeks. You will have it back if we are sure it is jinx free."
Professor McGonagall turned on her heel to walk out of the room, all eyes on the Firebolt she held in her hands as she left through the portrait.
Hermione didn't need to look up from her book to know her friends were glaring at her, she could feel their eyes burning through the thick leather spine.
"How could you!?" snapped Ron as he stormed over to chair Hermione sat on, pretending to read.
"I was concerned, what if -"
"You had no right to Hermione!" It was Harry's turn to snap.
"I didn't want anything to happen to you, I -"
"No, you just wanted to spoil our fun!" Harry interrupted, seething at his friend.
"Just because you don't know how to have fun and all you do is study does not mean the rest of us have to suffer along with you!" Ron started before Harry grabbed his arm and pulled him back slightly.
"Ron…" Harry spoke more calmly now as he looked towards a red faced Ron.
Hermione was outraged, she knew they wouldn't be happy with her, she had her reasons and she thought they may understand had they listened to them, however it was clear to see that both Harry and Ron were too angry to see sense. She could feel the tears building in her eyes, but she didn't want to give them the satisfaction of seeing her cry for another time due to their harsh words.
She stood from her seat and barged past her friends, grabbing her bag along the way, she ran through the portrait and didn't look back. Heading towards her secret room, all she could think was how she hoped Draco was having a better Christmas than she was.
~X~
Draco was seated at a large spacious table across from his mother, the distance the table put between anyone who sat around it was something he always considered ridiculous, but then, his father never did appreciate talking at the dining table, even if it was Christmas.
"Where's Father?" Draco asked his mother as they finished their Christmas Dinner and waited for the house elves to bring dessert.
"He had a work related problem he had to attend to, why? Are you missing him?" Narccisa teased.
Draco scowled at his mother before picking up his spoon and fidgeting with it in his hands.
"Could the plans to resurrect the Dark Lord not wait a day?" His words caused his mother to choke on the sip of wine she had just taken.
For a moment she simply stared at him over her glass, unable to respond. Finally, she had managed to process his words and placed her glass back on the table before gently patting her mouth with her napkin.
"Well if the Ministry has the same goal in mind, I'll be damned."
"I sometimes forget he works for the Ministry."
"Along with things you should and shouldn't say out loud it seems." Narcissa's tone grew serious.
"Be mindful Draco, the happenings in those meetings you attend with your father are of no concern to anyone outside of that room. I do not care to know these things and it may do you some good to remember that."
"You would rather just be blind to it all?"
"I would rather plausible deniability."
"In case of what? Last I checked it's illegal for the Ministry to use Legilimency as a way to retrieve information from someone."
"Yes, but Veritesirum is not." Narccisa snapped.
Draco could count on one hand how many times his mother had raised her voice directly at him in his lifetime, it wasn't something he enjoyed doing and it unsettled him more than he would care to admit.
Almost as quickly as she lost her temper with her son, she had calmed, realising that sitting before her, was her only child who was no doubt terrified in the position he was in, and it would only get worse.
"I don't need to be told Draco because I'm not blind, I can see what is happening, I've known for years what your father and his friends have been planning. I hate that you're involved, but I'd rather you not discuss it so openly, this is a serious matter."
"Then why am I involved?"
His mother paused and sat back in her seat, resting her elbows on the arms of her chair as he moved her hands upwards and clasped them together in front of her face.
"You're a Malfoy, there was never anyway for you not to be. However, instead of running with you when you were born, away from all of this, constantly hiding from our past, we decided to stay and fight."
"So you want to fight, through me?"
"I want you to be strong, to be able to protect yourself if the worst happens."
"That's not what Father wants though is it." Draco said, more of a statement than a question, he could sense his mother's growing irritation towards the subject at hand.
"What your father wants and what I want aren't entirely two different things, however, yes. He may want more for you that I do not."
"So you raised me to be a pawn in all of this."
"We raised you to be able to protect yourself. It has never been clear how all this would pan out, Draco, you have to understand that when you were a young boy the idea of him returning was just that, an idea. The Carrows were the first to suggest it was even a possibility, they were insane, nobody thought it would happen. Until your first year at Hogwarts."
Draco stopped twirling the spoon around in his hands and gripped onto it tightly as he thought back to his first year, the roomers that Harry had fought Voldemort in the dungeons of the school.
"So it was all true?"
"Nobody knows for sure. Only the people who were there that night can answer that question."
"That would go down well, Hey Potter! Did you actually have a tumble with the Dark Lord, just asking because my lifes a bit shit with the whole preparing for him perhaps returning one day and I want to know whether or not to be concerned?"
"Draco Malfoy!" Narccisa shouted as the palm of her hand hit the table, the noise and shock of the notion caused him to drop his spoon.
"Don't you EVER swear in front of me again!"
Draco and his mother stared at each other in silence, neither one wanting to be the first to break it. Not before long, they both calmed and saw the humor in the situation and couldn't fight the laughter that had started to come out of them.
"Honestly mother, of all the things to lose your temper over in this situation, me swearing is what did it." Draco said between catching his breath.
"You know how much I hate swearing." Narcissa said as she composed herself, smiling at her son.
"I'm sorry. I just hate the situation, it doesn't seem fair to throw someone so young into the middle of all of this."
"Think how Potter feels." his mother said, and with that, Draco sombered.
It was no secret that he didn't like Harry, however, he had never really compared his situation to his own. When in reality, they were in similar situations. One child being pushed to be the saviour working from the outside in whilst the other was being pushed to save everyone from the inside out. Neither one had a choice, neither one asked for it.
Draco would never admit to this realisation, not even to Hermione, but it certainly made him look at things in a different light.
~X~
Christmas break had drawn to an end as Draco spent his last evening wandering around the snowy grounds of Malfoy manor, his hands in his pockets and his face hidden slightly underneath his scarf.
He looked forward to returning back to school as it meant he could see Hermione and hear all about the Christmas she had.
'All the time she'd spent studying' he smirked to himself.
"Ah, there you are." Lucius' voice ruined the image Draco had built himself of Hermione sat in their secret room surrounded by books.
He mentally kicked himself that he had let his guard down around his father, even for a few seconds, before his mental shield was back up.
"I wanted to discuss something with you before you head back off to school tomorrow." Lucius said as he guided them both across to a bench covered in snow, with a swift wave of his wand, the bench cleared and dried, allowing for them to sit down together.
Draco felt uncomfortable by his father's approach. It wasn't very often the two of them sat alone to have a conversation and if ever they did, it never ended well.
"Your mother has told me I have to have a conversation with you about something, I don't want to have this conversation as much as you don't want to either, I don't think it's necessary but she was very insistent and to be quite frank, she scares me a little bit."
Draco scoffed at the idea of his father being scared of his mother, however, it was something he completely understood having been on the receiving end of not one, but two of her notorious death glares over Christmas.
"As I said, trying to have this conversation is very uncomfortable for me, you must understand this."
Draco watched as his father fidgeted in his seat, his discomfort becoming clear to see and it suddenly dawned on him what his father could be trying to tell him.
"You see-"
"Father" Draco interrupted quickly, "We don't need to do this."
"I've already told you, your mother insisted."
"Yes, but we can just pretend we've had this conversation and be done with it, she doesn't have to know."
"Draco, let me just finish what I was saying-"
"Father I don't need to have the sex talk, I already know about it!" he said quickly before his father could finish his sentence.
Draco had never seen his father embarrassed before, but the words he fired out at him had caused the slightest shade of pink to surface on his cheeks as he stared at his son with his mouth open.
"That was not what I wanted to talk to you about." Lucius finally managed to get the words out, speaking slowly, making Draco feel equally as awkward.
"But it's good to know you feel educated enough on that subject at least." the corners of Lucius mouth raised slightly as he formed the closest thing Draco had ever seen to a genuine smile whilst around him.
"Well, that's made what I actually want to say somewhat easier." Lucius began.
"Your mother told me that you are unhappy about the position you are in, the role you've been forced to play in all of this."
"Well it's-"
"Draco let me finish."
Draco closed his mouth immediately at his father's words, a reflex he had gained from years of experience around his father.
"I never planned for you to be in this position. It wasn't until that insufferable Potter child resurfaced and the event that happened in your first year, that I even realised it was a possibility that the Dark Lord may return. Many discussions have been had concerning that topic, never any worth acknowledging. That year everything changed." Lucius turned away from his son and looked out towards the grounds of his property before he spoke once more.
"A decision was made then in haste to get you involved, it isn't fair, I don't like it any more than you do. Having said that, you have the potential to be an exceptional wizard, one that could earn the highest respect off any wizard, even the Dark Lord himself."
"So that's why you want me so involved… If he comes back, you want me to become his right hand man, to gain the glory off him that you could never achieve?" Draco said in disbelief, his tone becoming more stern the further into his sense he reached.
"All anyone ever wants is to be the most powerful wizard known to man. You'd be a fool to think you could overpower him, so what better position to be in than his right hand man?"
"Does mother know about this?!"
"This does not concern your mother."
Draco huffed, shaking his head once more, still unable to believe the words his father was saying to him. He knew his father's plans differed from his mother, but to believe he would want his own son to become right hand to one of the darkest wizards of all time, the risk that would entail, it was something he couldn't quite believe.
"What makes you think you're any closer to bringing him back?"
"Sirius Black." Lucius rose from his seat, ignoring his son's puzzled expression.
"And how is he the missing piece?"
"He isn't the missing piece. The rumours about Sirius being the reason the Potters died all those years ago due to his loyalty to the Dark Lord, are just that, rumours. He didn't serve the Dark Lord. He was a rebel yes, but not for our side."
"Then I don't understand."
"You will, in time." Lucius turned to his son one last time before nodding and leaving him alone again.
Draco remained outside for longer than he had originally planned. He felt as though his father had bombarded him with information he wasn't able to process alone, in that moment he wished to be back at Hogwarts, Hermione would know exactly what to say to make him feel like his whole world wasn't about to change for the worse.
'If it could get any worse' he mumbled to himself before finally retreating back inside to the warmth, wandering on his way whether this would be his last normal Christmas in Malfoy Manor.