A/N: I own nothing pertaining to Harry Potter and the wizarding world and earn nothing from writing this bit of fiction.
Looks like I finished this chapter just in time! Happy New Year and thanks for reading!
Chapter 14 - Ringing in a New Era
The three friends unlock the mystery surrounding Draco's supposed family magic.
31 December 1998 (continued)
Draco opened the door at last and ushered his friends in, glaring once more over his shoulder at the portraits. There were several noises of outrage and the sound of murmuring as others began grumbling quietly to themselves.
"You'll be the ruin of us all!" shrieked a portrait that looked to be at least three hundred years old from her style of dress.
Draco shot another glare.
"Go on. Go on and I'll get the paint thinner," he hissed.
Hermione remained unflappable and Blaise stood just behind her, silently observing the portraits.
"Ignore them," Hermione advised in a superior tone. "Which one is your grandfather?"
"Over here, then. Come on, both of you."
Draco led them over to a large portrait at the other end of the room. One who, he'd noticed earlier, had not joined in on the conversation held only minutes before. Disdain was clearly written on the portrait's face, lip curled slightly into a sneer.
"I can see the resemblance," snickered Hermione.
Both Draco and his grandfather flared their nostrils. Blaise quietly chortled at the mirrored response.
"Draco, if you won't ask him, I will," Hermione continued impatiently.
The wizard seemed to collect himself at that and began questioning the portrait who flatly refused to give any direct answers whatsoever.
"Do you think there's some sort of curse that would prevent him from telling you outright?" she asked later when they were back in the comforts of the library.
"Maybe. I think he was just being a tricky bastard. Would you expect anything less from my father's father?"
Hermione grinned. "No, I suppose not."
Blaise busied himself reading through the notes Hermione had taken during the 'interrogation', as he liked to call it. (Hermione did bristle slightly at that.)
"Hey, what do you make of this?" he called out later as he was thumbing through yet another magical compendium. "There are stories of wizards and witches who were able to control the elements, in a fashion. Most went on to be Masters in Charms as the magic needed came naturally and without expense to their magical cores. Rumor persists that these abilities are inherited rather than learned but it is rare that any have confessed to such abilities, fearing the reaction of others. It seems that they were passed from one generation to the next by means of a special ceremony where hands were laid on and the power was awakened in the initiate."
"What!" Hermione jumped to her feet and rushed over to where Blaise was sitting. "Let me see that!"
She reread it to herself and gasped.
"That's it, Malfoy! That would make perfect sense of why you'd need something for channeling the magic. It's like using a wand but better, more powerful!"
"You're forgetting one thing, Granger. My grandfather is dead and my father, who is in prison, was never given any special familial magic. How am I supposed to inherit something from a dead wizard?"
"Perhaps we ought to go back and ask?"
Draco exhaled a long sigh. "Do you really think he's going to help us?"
"Are you a Slytherin, Malfoy, or a Hufflepuff?"
Blaise laughed and received a rather sour look from his friend.
"She's right, you know?" he shrugged.
"I'm always right, Malfoy. Why else would you have asked for my help?"
She turned on her heel and marched in the direction of the room leaving the two wizards to hurry after her.
Draco cut her off at the door when they finally reached it.
"Let me handle this."
"Fine. But we're coming in with you."
Draco gave them both a nod and the three re-entered the room. There was less grumbling this time and more excited whispers. It made Hermione wonder what they had been talking about while the three of them were elsewhere. Or had one of them somehow overheard? She knew the occupants were able to shift to other frames - was there one that was secreted into a corner of the library and they hadn't noticed? She tucked that thought away for later.
"Grandfather, I've decided that your notes were a load of rubbish and that you had no special magical abilities at all."
"I doubt seriously you would come all the way up here merely to berate me, Draco."
"I've come to ask one of the other portraits since you weren't fit to inherit the Malfoy magic."
The painted man's expression changed from boredom to one of irritation.
"You insolent little wretch. You'd insult your own grandfather?"
"It's not my fault you made the questionable choice of following Riddle. That's what it all comes back to, doesn't it? But when I was given the freedom to make a better choice, I took it. I refuse to let our family continue in the path of darkness."
Some of the other portraits began to take note of the young wizard before them. Several shook their heads or screwed up their faces in contempt while others began to applaud.
"That's what it is," Hermione suddenly whispered. "He's already done it without realising it."
"What's he done?" inquired Blaise, trying to follow along.
"He chose a different path. He's purified the magic. Maybe he doesn't need his grandfather at all."
"What's that, Granger?" Draco turned and looked straight at her. "Why don't I need him?"
"While I am loathe to admit it, she is correct, Draco. I can't assist you in this. You'll have to find someone living to share their magic with you."
"But how am I supposed to do that?"
"Use your head, boy. Just because it's your family's legacy doesn't mean you can't get help from someone other than a Malfoy. It's dormant in you already. You simply need to awaken it."
"This is so exciting, Malfoy!" Hermione squealed once they were out of earshot of the portraits.
"Granger, you really do get off on impossible projects, don't you?" Draco said with a smirk.
Hermione's cheeks grew pink.
"Well, you did ask for my help. And now you know what to do."
Blaise nodded and gave Draco a shrug as if to say she had a point. Again.
"You should ask Professor Snape what you should do. He would know."
"He's had to play nanny to me enough, don't you think?"
"Don't be so proud, Malfoy. He's your godfather after all. He does care about you. In his own fashion."
"It's not like you wanted to talk to him about your parents."
Blaise began edging toward the door, not wanting to get involved in the latest debate. As soon as he reached the threshold, he scarpered, seeking out Narcissa in hopes of having some afternoon teacakes and a bit of mothering. Neither Draco nor Hermione took notice.
"That's different. He… he tolerates me because he has to."
"Right, which is why he's been rather civil with you this year."
"Maybe he's tired of being nasty. Maybe he's turned over a new leaf since the end of the war."
"Or maybe he's found you're not quite so intolerable. After all, even you and I are getting on these days."
"Well that's different, don't you think?"
"How so?"
"Well… you're not vile this year. And… and I think the war changed you."
He took a step closer to her and she suddenly seemed nervous.
"How so?"
"I think you were only like that before because you thought you had to be. Because it's what you were taught. But now you've seen the truth of things."
"Which is?" His voice grew softer. He watched her as she cast about for the door with her eyes. It somehow made her much more interesting. He'd grown rather fond of making her uncomfortable. And when her cheeks were a bit pink like that, it made him want to find out if they were as warm as they looked. He attempted to bring himself back from the brink of folly and casually put his hands in his pockets.
"The truth that your family was following a man who was hateful and a hypocrite. He was only a half-blood to begin with. And people like me have never stolen anyone's magic."
He made a noise of agreement, not trusting himself to speak.
"Where did Blaise go?" she asked suddenly, ending the moment.
Draco looked around and, sure enough, the wizard was no longer in the room.
Snape had spent a fair bit of his day fidgeting with things. He packed his gifts back in the small bag he'd be taking back to the school in just two days, carefully rewrapping the parcel from Martinez and placing it at the bottom of the bag. He was still unsure what he thought of the gesture though he supposed he would have to talk to her about it when she returned. He didn't relish the idea of a conversation with her alone anywhere, but he also didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of the others.
He attempted to the tidy the house a bit and do some minor repairs, but became discouraged after a couple of attempts to repair a broken floorboard in a corner of his bedroom resulted in splinters in his thumb and curses streaming from his mouth. It would have to keep for now. He slid a heavy trunk on top of it and tried to put it out of his mind. Difficult to do when he was removing the splinters, as even magically done it is an unpleasant experience.
He took out his frustration on the dust and cobwebs, sending it all sailing out the window in a cloud of filth that headed straight for an open rubbish bin that normally was for burning weeds from the garden. His house moderately more clean, he sat once more and stewed by the fire, his mind drifting again to the fate of Hermione's parents. He summoned a few books from his shelf and began poring over them, looking for a clue that would help him decide on a course of action. A glance at the clock revealed that he still had four hours before he was to floo to the Manor. Plenty of time to mull things over before the chit plied him with a million questions or, worse, gets worked over his involvement.
Dinner was a smoother event than the previous meal with Snape, but Narcissa assumed it was because the awkwardness of the last dinner did not resurface. Blaise had already informed her of their progress that afternoon with the portraits and she was grateful to hear that it was nothing overly shocking, though she had suspected something along the lines of a sort of innate magic. Hermione seemed more composed, though at times lose in thought, and Draco seemed less given to tease the witch mercilessly. After the pudding was eaten, Narcissa suggested that they all retire to the large sitting room where tea and coffee were served. The group of them had a pleasant chat around the fire, talking about the upcoming term, exams, and how long Blaise planned on working with Rosmerta. As it turned out, he had already signed on until the end of the school year, with a review on his performance scheduled for mid-June. Midnight was drawing near and Narcissa suggested yet another change of venue: this time to the conservatory to be able to observe the stars as they welcomed in the new year.
Snape rose to be first to vacate, hoping to slip away and avoid the rest of the festivities, but found himself detained by Hermione, who had taken hold of the edge of his cloak as he made to pass by her.
"Professor Snape, might I have a word with you?"
His irritated look nearly squelched her courage, but she soldiered on.
"I thought that as my advisor for the year, well, you could be the best person to, you know, advise me on a matter."
He gave her a curt nod and the two of them remained while the others went on ahead.
A shiver raced up her spine as his dark eyes narrowed at her.
"What is it, Miss Granger?"
"Well, it is true that Malfoy spoke to you out of turn. I should have liked to been able to decide for myself if I wished to reveal such a thing to you. No offense, sir."
"Was there anything else you wished to say?" he drawled when she quieted.
"Well, there was one thing."
"Go on then."
"It's about Malfoy. I thought you the best person to turn to, though he refused. It's about his family magic, sir. We've figured it out."
"That hardly qualifies me to be the best person."
"It's just that… well, it requires discretion. And you are someone that he trusts."
"I suppose," he answered lazily, thinking it over.
"He's being rather silly about it, but he would listen to you, sir. More than anyone else." Her attempt to mollify his ego seemed to have worked, for his frown softened slightly.
"I'll leave it to him to explain, sir, but I'm afraid he'll likely not come to you on his own. He feels like you've rather done enough for him over the years. Which you likely have," she rushed, "only it's just that it would be a shame for him to never really find out about his magical legacy simply because he's too silly to ask for help."
Snape eyed her carefully as he thought over what she'd just said. She'd said nothing false and he found himself curious as to just what Draco was due to magically inherit. His father obviously had never sought it out, but his attentions were likely elsewhere and not really given to endless research. Of course, he didn't have a witch with such a zeal for knowledge prodding him either. Narcissa had seemed rather content to leave things lie, but with Lucius there was also always the danger that he would be further exploited, a fear that came to be reality when their home became the base camp for the Death Eaters. But now that the shadow of Tom Riddle was beginning to lift from the family, perhaps it was time for them to rise up, for Draco to pull his family from shame to its rightful place as one of the most powerful, influential families in Britain. Just as long as it doesn't go to his head. Perhaps he was the best wizard for the job after all as he was not given to inflating the young Malfoy's ego.
"Miss Granger, I did a bit of research today," he admitted to her at last. "And while I don't want to unduly get your hopes up, I think that there might be a way to help your parents. I'll need to consult with some others, of course, but if you can manage a few more weeks, I can give a more definitive answer at that time."
Hermione was grateful for both his candor and willingness to help her and found herself profusely thanking him for both before she caught hold of herself and suddenly stopped.
The wizard studied her while she prattled. He expected a bit of gratitude but he hardly knew how to handle such an outburst other than with disdain, but that hardly seemed appropriate given the circumstances.
"If you're quite finished, Miss Granger, I think it would be wise to join the others."
"Oh! You're right, of course."
He swept past her without further ado and led her down the candle-lit hallways where the others waited, drinks in hand, for the clock to strike midnight.
"Alright, Granger?" Blaise whispered to her when she stepped quietly into the space between he and Draco.
"Yeah, alright. I'll tell you both after. You were right, by the way, Draco. He might actually be able to help my parents."
Draco grew smug. "You doubted me."
"Well, I'm sorry," she hissed. "Old habits and all that."
Narcissa handed the latecomers their drinks as they waited, engaged in some light small talk.
They didn't have long to wait before the clocks all throughout the house rang out, chiming midnight.
"To the future," Narcissa called out as they raised their glasses of champagne together.
"To the future," they all echoed as they took turns clinking them together before taking a drink.
Snape bent down and offered Narcissa a kiss on the cheek, wishing she and Lucius the best in the coming year. She returned one in kind, thanking him for his friendship and suggesting that perhaps he, too, could at last have a happier year.
Hermione received an awkward kiss on both cheeks at once as the young wizard on either side of her wished her a happy new year. She kissed them each in turn after, her cheeks warm from the drink and the sudden physical contact.
"Happy new year, you lot. May you both stay out of trouble for once in your lives."
"Happy new year, Granger, may you continue to never get caught," quipped Blaise.
Draco laughed as he replied similarly.
After they finished their glasses and Snape at last managed to excuse himself, the three of them hurried off to Draco's room where Hermione told them all about what Snape said, minus the bits about Draco.
"You know he's serious," Draco stated.
"I trust him," replied Hermione with a nod.
"I'm sure he appreciates that," mused Blaise, feeling rather philosophical after a few glasses of champagne. He'd refilled his glass twice while the others sipped their first (and only) rather slowly. "Only thing I don't get, why is he suddenly so benevolent. He hated you before this year."
"Hatred might be a bit strong of a term, don't you think?" inquired Hermione.
"No, he was definitely out to get you. You and Potter and Weasley," agreed Draco. "Of course, so was I," he finished with a wink.
"And instead, now you're spending the new year with us, love." Blaise took her hand in his own and kissed the back of it, amusement in his eyes that were fixed on Draco's narrowed gaze.
Hermione flushed and looked over at the wall, too embarrassed to look at either of them and thus missed their exchange.
Draco attempted to change the subject. "You still want to go back to Avebury?"
"But of course!" she responded, turning back to Draco. Blaise was still holding her hand. "Just because Professor Snape is willing to help, doesn't mean that I'm not willing to do a little magical experimenting on my own. Perhaps you should too, Draco. Now that you know a bit more about your own magic."
Blaise pulled her hand to his leg before she suddenly wrenched her fingers away.
"Honestly Zabini, what's gotten into you?" she laughed. "I think I'll be going to bed."
She rose to her feet and Draco followed, offering to walk her to her room.
"I think I can find it on my own, but thank you," she smiled.
Draco was looking at her a bit strangely, like he had just been thoroughly disappointed by something but was trying to play it off.
"Happy New Year, Malfoy," she whispered to him and walked away, relieved when she heard his door click shut once more and she was alone in the hallway. She made her way to her room, humming softly to herself and trying not to think too hard about how nice Draco smelled when she kissed his cheek. Or how his lips felt on her own skin.
Draco gave Blaise a hard look after she left.
"Do that again, Zabini, and I'll hex your bollocks off, so help me."
Blaise gave him a stupid smile. "Do what? Enjoy the fact that there was a nice bird that let me hold her hand?"
His friend's eyes flashed. "She's not just some 'nice bird'."
"Right. She's your 'nice bird'." He got up and made his way from the room, but paused and stuck his head back in before he left. "Although, you haven't made any real claims on her, so maybe I should."
Blaise quickly closed the door, laughing to himself as something smashed into it seconds later.
A/N: Until next time, friends. Here's to hoping that this new year will be better!
Cue the Counting Crows playing "Long December"...