AN: Friends, I am so sorry. The long and short of it is, I am privileged to now have my family live with me for six months out of the year. Not only do I prioritize time with them, but, well, it's also difficult to write with two homeschooled siblings under 15. Don't worry, as I've said before, this story will not be abandoned, nor will it take years to finish. But I do want to make it known that updates will likely be spontaneous going forward. I also may have created a "writer-stagram" under Julietkfanfics, if you're interested. Will be lots of Dramione, Reylo, Skyeward, and whatever other ships I end up writing for.
So much love for each and every single one of you that has followed, favourited, and left a kind note for me in the reviews. You are so appreciated and make my heart sing. Peace and Blessings.
XXVII
—
Draco couldn't help but stare disbelievingly at his father while the older man spoke. What he was saying was simply ridiculous, and the boy kept waiting for him to admit he was joking and get to what he had actually called him to the parlour for. However, when the senior Malfoy fell silent, Draco was forced to accept that his father was being genuine. He scoffed.
"You're telling me that's the reason mum's been so busy the past few weeks? She was preparing for this insanity?"
"Mind your speech, Draco. This was the Dark Lord's plan," Lucius said sternly. His son shook his head, still not comprehending.
"You're saying you performed some dodgy, potentially fatal ritual on a little girl, and now that little girl is a Malfoy in everything but birth?"
"Yes."
It was quiet for a few moments, then the younger wizard gave his father an incredulous look.
"After years of berating anyone with a less-than-impeccable bloodline, you're suddenly going to allow this muggle child into your home as your daughter? A child born without magic?"
"But she does have magic now, Draco. And she's quite powerful. She is no more muggle than you or I, any longer."
The boy stood abruptly, anger evident on his face. "You say that about this girl, yet you still barely contain your words around Hermione, who was born magical, and is more powerful than most wizards and witches three times her age. Explain that!"
Lucius's expression matched his son's, and he stood as well.
"Your intended fought vehemently beside Potter and Dumbledore's Order! Her beliefs are entirely out of line with ours, no matter how much she softens her voice and praises the Dark Lord! This new child can be raised with civilized ideas about our world."
The two men glared harshly at each other, then Draco worked his jaw and turned to leave. The elder wizard called to him.
"I did not dismiss you! Where do you think you're going?"
Whirling back to his father, the young Malfoy gave him a nasty smirk.
"The Descendant Manor. Hermione and I have house trimming to do, seeing as we're only eleven weeks from the wedding. Or did you forget that we're getting married?"
"It seems you're the one who's forgotten, son," Lucius snarled. "This wedding, your little 'happy couple' act, it's all just a show. You are to convince people we are an inclusive movement by showing around your little Muggle-Born wife, you are to put children in her, and most importantly, you are to control her. That is the reason the Dark Lord chose the Aeterna for your bond. You will be her master, Draco, and you will keep her in line, in whatever way our leader designates."
Draco again stared at the man across from him, mouth slightly agape as his pulse hammered in his ears. Never had he wanted so badly to hex his own father. Trembling slightly, he hurried from the room despite the elder wizard's protests.
Reaching his bedroom, the young man took a few deep breaths, tracing his Sigil for "peace" over his heart. When he had regained a semblance of calm, he thought over his father's words.
The idea of being Hermione's "master" sickened him, his disgust growing the more he contemplated it until he could think of it no more.
He couldn't do it. Forcing her into anything was just... impossible. He wouldn't take away her free will like that, not even for the most powerful wizard in the world. He would find a way around it. He had to.
Draco stared down at the gardens, cold certainty settling in his bones, even knowing it would be a direct subversion of the Dark Lord's will. A chill went down his spine at the thought of trying to hide something from the man, but...
He'd done it before. Once.
On the night of the Halloween Revelry, he'd been assigned to the house Hermione was secretly staying in. It was either pure coincidence or the will of the universe that he was stationed there, since no one knew exactly who was occupying each dwelling.
He had been about to set the place ablaze when he'd caught sight of her in the window. His blood had frozen in his veins, and he'd lowered his wand, watching her wave her own and set the home to rights. Though he'd known she was about to Disapparate, he made no move to prevent it, merely setting his jaw as he saw her swish her length of Vine and vanish.
He had burned the house down anyways, then tipped a few drops of Purplexium down his throat and returned to the Manor to await his inevitable death. But the Purplexium had made him unafraid, so when he'd marched into the Dark Lord's study to report, he'd lied. And as the wizard had gone through his mind, somehow, it hadn't been difficult to hide what had really happened.
That had been almost a year ago. Draco was about to begin tracing the crest on his signet ring, but he caught himself, crossing his arms over his chest instead. He'd always been a good liar when he wanted something, aside from his rather pathetic attempt at subterfuge in sixth year. He blamed that on duress; but this he could do, and he could do it well, because it was for her.
He would have to begin researching immediately. Eleven weeks was no time at all, especially with his work. But he would also have to be careful around Hermione. He could hide his thoughts from the Dark Lord, but she couldn't. Until he had no other choice, he would have to keep it a secret even from her.
Taking another breath and tracing his calming sigil over his heart one last time, he pulled the case of Portkeys out of his desk and closed his eyes as he was whisked away.
—
Hermione looked up from the catalogue she'd been engrossed in when Archie appeared in front of her, bowing low.
"Young Master Malfoy has arrived, Mistress Granger. Shall I fetch the young Miss Burke?"
"No, thank you. Just let her know we're leaving," the girl said, standing and beginning to make her way through the manor.
She met her fiancé in the main entry hall, waiting beside the large Floo. When he caught sight of her, he strode up to her and cradled her cheeks, kissing her intently.
Hermione raised an eyebrow when they separated. "Why such an enthusiastic greeting?"
"Because my father has officially gone insane and I am entirely grateful that we won't have to live with him soon."
"What on earth did he do?" She questioned with a breathy laugh. He took her hands and kissed along her knuckles.
"Apparently I'm now an elder brother to a seven year old girl, courtesy of the Daggers of Anointment. My father gifted her with magic at the behest of the Dark Lord, and now she is to be raised as a Malfoy."
The witch bore an awe-struck expression. "The daggers… they work? It isn't just legend?"
"It would appear so," Draco said with a measured tone. He knew exactly what was going on in that suicidal Gryffindor brain of hers. "But the Dark Lord ordered them destroyed after his experiment was successful. They no longer exist."
Surprisingly, Hermione gave no indication of disappointment, just the opposite, in fact. "I suppose that's a good thing," she said. "If they truly could give someone magic, it's likely the reverse function worked as well. Stars forbid someone have their magic taken from them."
The young wizard stared at his fiancée for a moment, saying nothing as he stared into her eyes, looking for any signs of deception. After a moment, he shrugged it off and pulled a box from his pocket.
He opened the velvet case and presented its contents to her, feeling triumphant when her expression lifted into a gentle smile.
"It's beautiful," she breathed as she studied the dainty necklace. Diamonds glittered along the length, but the focal point was a delicate, soft peach pearl. Hermione turned and swept her hair to the side as he lifted the jewelry from its bed.
"I believe I'm learning how to keep both you and the newspaper gossips happy," Draco murmured, clasping the necklace. His hands ran along her figure and he kissed below her ear. "Of course, if you'd rather drive them mad, I'm happy to oblige."
She chuckled breathlessly as he trailed his lips along her skin in soft little pecks, the girl instinctively canting her head to give him full access to her neck. After enjoying his attention for a moment, she reluctantly hauled herself back to reality.
"We're expected at the Furnisher's in ten minutes," Hermione sighed, and Draco moaned, holding her tighter for a few seconds before releasing her. He then pulled a new parcel from another pocket.
"These will keep us protected. They've been woven with so many wards and charms that no one short of the Dark Lord will be able to touch us, no matter what's attempted. They will dampen our own magic, though, so they're not entirely fun to wear."
Inside the box were two identical bracelets, thin cuffs with numerous etchings and symbols. Hermione swore she could feel the power emanating from them.
"Where did they come from?" She questioned as she slipped one over her wrist. A sudden spike of energy pulsed through her, and she furrowed her brows. Draco donned his bracelet as he spoke.
"The goblins. A very old, evidently secret technique that they were furious I'd found out about. They practically threatened war when I put in the order."
Staring at the bracelet, Hermione bit her lip. "You're certain they work?"
"They were heavily tested. As I said, the Dark Lord was able to break the enchantments, but everything else that we tried couldn't get past them."
A long sigh escaped the girl. They would be safe, she told herself, trying to quiet the anxiety fluttering in her chest. Setting her jaw, she tossed a handful of green powder and called out her destination.
—
They spent a few hours at the Furnisher's, even though Hermione had determined what she wanted long beforehand. Draco just nodded along as needed, unable to keep his eyes from flicking back and forth, looking for any sign of danger. Both of them had tensed when a large gaggle of reporters had jostled for their attention as they finally departed, but nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
When they arrived back home, the Descendant Manor was practically a new building. Everything Hermione had requested had immediately been seen to, the Furnisher's staff of Craftsman Elves making quick work of it. The estate was now a haven of Greco-Roman design, all done in light colours that made the already grand mansion feel even larger.
The pair had gone through the manor and made sure everything was in order, and were now relaxing in one of the many sitting rooms, enjoying a bottle of wine before they had to return to the High Manor.
"So she'll be arriving tomorrow?" Hermione asked, taking a sip from her glass. Conversation had turned to the Dark Lord's experiment, and the repercussions it was having on the Malfoy family. Draco nodded.
"I truly can't believe my mother is allowing it. The Dark Lord is the only person who could ever get her to agree to such a thing, and even then, I'm sure he had to practically beg. I once wrote home about a Half-Blood girl in third year, and she sent back a six-page lecture on how anyone outside of the Sacred Twenty-Eight was beneath me, that I shouldn't even glance at any girl whose father I hadn't already met. Now she has to play mother to a child with no magical pedigree at all. I won't be surprised if she goes mad the first week."
"Neither will I," the young witch said with a slight chuckle. "What about your father? How is he taking it?"
"He seems almost... eager. He talked about her power, and how she could be raised 'properly,' or some such tripe." He set his empty glass on the coffee table, then sighed as he leaned back against the couch. "The entire situation is mental."
It was silent for a long time, the two of them lost in their musings. Hermione finished her drink and placed it beside his, then curled closer to him, lacing their fingers.
"Maybe if we just stay here, we can pretend the world outside doesn't exist. That nothing beyond these walls is of any consequence; it's just you and I until the end of time."
Draco swallowed. Her voice was a whisper that moved along his skin like silk, and he found he'd never wanted anything as desperately as he wanted her in that moment.
Suddenly her lips were on his, her fists gripping the collar of his shirt as she straddled his lap. His fingers bit into her hips as lightning raced through his veins. Hermione began to determinedly unbutton his clothing, and unlike in Italy, he made no move to stop her, instead moving his own hands down to the bare skin on her thighs.
"By every ancient power, please don't do that while I'm here. I'm not getting paid enough to babysit that."
Draco and Hermione both jumped at the voice, familiar though it was.
"What the hell, Delilah?!" Hermione shouted, looking around for the other witch. Her eyes landed on the girl quite literally materializing in a nearby chair, an annoyed yet amused look on her face as she watched the young couple disentangle themselves and straighten their clothes.
"I'm your chaperone. You ought to assume that even if you can't see me, I'm nearby. It is, after all, the reason the Dark Lord selected me; my family has lots of nifty little gadgets, including some that can make us invisible for a time."
Draco was glaring daggers at the girl, and Hermione's look was no kinder, but Delilah snorted.
"Oh, calm down, the both of you. It's about time to head back to the High Manor anyways, so I would brighten up before you have to explain exactly why you're in such foul moods."
Getting to their feet, the pair ignored their "chaperone" as they moved through the house towards the master suite. Draco held the box of buttons out towards Delilah, who glanced at them with a smirk.
"One of you is going first, not me."
With a huff, Hermione grabbed a Portkey and disappeared, her soles tapping the floor of the High Manor seconds later. Delilah's bored sigh came from behind her after another moment, and then Draco was beside her, offering her his arm just as Ditzy popped into existence before them with the announcement that dinner was nearly ready.
The three of them made their way to the family dining room and took their seats, the master and lady of the house already present and waiting. As she sat, Hermione noticed the copper ring Delilah wore, and how it almost seemed to vanish. It turned her mind back to the girl's earlier statement about her family's collection of artifacts, and the idle thought quickly consumed her, as she wondered what exactly the Burke's may have acquired over the years...
…and just how much of it they kept from the Dark Lord.
—
(Cookies to you if you get the skyeward reference in this chapter)
