Hello lovelies!

I'm beyond excited to share this chapter. Part III is such fun because I get to smash together the lives of the lightning era with our beloved Marauders. It's endlessly fun. Hopefully you enjoy this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Please leave a review and let me know what you think ;)

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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me.

Saturday, April 10th, 1999

Malfoy Manor

The moment Draco stepped over the threshold into Malfoy Manor, Narcissa appeared, grey eyes brimming with irritation. She immediately chastised him and told him that he'd clearly forgotten his manners. (He hadn't informed her that he was using the Manor to host his small gathering until eight o'clock that morning.)

Despite the short notice, she easily slipped back into her former hostess role. The casual event had reinvigorated the woman as she finally had a purpose again. (The icing on the cake was that it is something she is highly skilled at.)

With one hand on her large, rounded belly, the other braced on her lower back, Narcissa gracefully moved about and directed the handful of House Elves—that they were permitted to keep—to prepare afternoon tea. A golden glow enveloped her. Draco was overjoyed to see it.

Daphne and Pansy arrived first around eleven-thirty. Narcissa made herself scarce after politely greeting the girls.

Daphne had opted for a sleek, dark-blue slip that brushed her ankles and had a large slit up the right side. The v-shaped neckline plunged down to her ribcage. A choker of sapphires and diamonds adorned her neck. She quickly abandoned her black outer robes on the back of a loveseat in the sitting room they'd chosen to host the gathering.

"No jeans today, Daph?" Draco greeted with a smirk. He was reclining on the loveseat in question.

"She was worried about what your mother might think of her Muggle garments," Pansy said dryly. "But from the looks of your Mother's earlier attire, I don't think she would have minded."

Pansy had been hovering in the doorway, but she steeled her jaw and strolled over to him. She primly sat beside Draco—angling her body towards him—and she folded her hands in her lap. Her expression was unreadable.

"Hi Pans," Draco said softly.

"Draco," Pansy murmured, her bottom lip quivered as his name left her mouth.

The only difference in Pansy's outward appearance since he left was that she'd chopped off her inky black hair that used to sweep down her back. Now the angular Bob hugged the bottom of her earlobes.

Pansy had deep-set, glittering, monolid eyes she'd inherited from her Mother's side of the family, but her thinner lips and sharper features she'd gotten from her Father. Pansy held herself with an air of elegance that she'd carried since she'd learned to walk, but had been polished to perfection by her various governesses growing up.

Pansy had shed the layers of baby fat that'd clung to her during their first few years at Hogwarts and undergone a growth spurt. She was a head taller than Daphne.

Pansy abandoned all of her elegance and grace as she threw herself at him, hugging him fiercely. It was a rare show of affection for the witch, and it startled Draco.

"I'm so happy you're back, you wanker," Pansy sniffed. Draco's hands slid around Pansy's back and drew the witch in closer, tucking his face into her shoulder. The scent of pine trees tickled his nostrils.

"You owe me five galleons, Daph. I told you she'd be a sniveling mess within minutes of seeing him." A silky voice came from across the room. It was a rich, polished voice that oozed confidence and was reminiscent of melted chocolate.

"A couple tears does not constitute a snivelling mess," Daphne scowled, she was propped up on the love seat's arm, helping herself to one of the cheese finger sandwiches the House Elves had prepared. "Also, you're late."

Draco lifted his head, and turned to gaze at the newest arrivals.

The dark-skinned Italian raised a brow, his full lips pulling into a predatory grin. His hair was normally long enough to braid into various neat, intricate styles— he favoured cornrows that ended by his shoulders—but he'd shaved his head, and the smooth surface gleamed as it caught the light. That was a shock, Blaise adored his hair.

Draco was the tallest of the three males, Blaise was several inches shorter and an inch taller than Theo. During petty arguments Blaise saw fit to remind Theo that he was taller than him.

"Pity you aren't smarter. Then maybe you could think of a better method of comparison," Theo once retorted.

"You took your sweet time in the past. Things were dreadfully boring without you around," Blaise said as he strode into the room. Every movement Blaise made was confident and smooth, his gait long and relaxed. He stopped in front of Draco and Pansy, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Hi Blaise, how are you?" Draco rolled his eyes. However, his attention was drawn to the figure languidly leaning against the doorway, hands stuffed in his pockets, his icy blue eyes sharply honed in on Draco's.

Theo's bouncy, dark curls were soft and his hair was long enough to cover most of his forehead. He'd used to be a gangly stick with hardly any meat on his bones until they were seventeen. His rigorous Quidditch training helped him gain muscle and increased his appetite. He worked his arse off and underwent a complete transformation.

Thick eyebrows, a broad nose, full lips, a strong jaw, and high cheekbones. Objectively, Theodore was an attractive man, but he wasn't pretty like Blaise or Draco, there was something more rugged and earthy to his appearance and nature.

Theo had always been the most level-headed in their group. Sometimes Blaise unnecessarily made petty arguments into a full-blow row. Theo had a knack for calming him down. He also had the most foul mouth.

"How long have you been back?" Theo asked evenly.

Draco swallowed thickly. Pansy withdrew herself from his arms, and swivelled to face Theo. She cavalierly placed a hand on Draco's knee; as if she wasn't ready to fully let go of him yet. "Shove off, Theo. Don't be a twat."

"That's just how he is, Pans. You thought you'd have figured that out by now," Blaise purred. He faced Daphne, and his eyes raked over her outfit. "Is that new? Colour looks nice on you."

"Thanks," Daphne smiled. "Not really new, I've had it for a while, just never worn it."

"It's a wonder any of us get anything done. I asked Draco a question," Theo grumbled. He straightened out and strolled over to them. Blaise propped an elbow on Theo's shoulder when he reached them.

"Almost a week."

Theo nodded, but he didn't look affronted or surprised. His expression remained frustratingly blank. He'd always been the best at masking his emotions; a skill that had been borne out of necessity for survival in the Nott Household.

Draco stared up at his childhood friend, and was struck by how he had the same hair and eye colour as his Father, but everything else came from elsewhere, came from his Mother's side of the family. And in that moment he recalled that Theodus Nott had murdered Charlus Potter.

Draco dragged in a haggard breath to steady himself. Theo was not at fault. Theo hadn't had anything to do with Charlus's death, but the memory of Charlus bleeding out on the hardwoods was forcefully shoved to the front of his mind.

Draco didn't hear Theo talking to him. He didn't notice Theo move until Theo was kneeling in front of him, a hand on his leg. Pansy shifted slightly to give them room. "Draco?" Theo asked softly, concern threading through his tone, his brow crumpled.

"I'm sorry I didn't come see you sooner…it's all just been a lot," Draco murmured.

"Are you going to tell us about it?" Theo gently pressed.

Trust and loyalty were the unspoken foundation of their group, but it'd taken years for them to develop healthier communication skills that didn't involve too much snark or snide remarks. Vulnerability was not something they were good at.

"I always knew your Father was cruel, but I never understood the depths of his depravity until he murdered my Father," Draco said under his breath. Draco knew Theo heard him because the other boy went rigid.

"I don't blame you in any way, Teddy… but I understand, and I am sorry I wasn't old enough or strong enough to get you away from him sooner."

"I'm sorry, Draco," Theo replied, eyes glistening. There were a handful of people Theo openly showed any level of emotion with, and almost all of them were in that room.

"Nott Senior was a fucking piece of work. Glad he's dead," Blaise said. He reached into his royal-purple outer robes and pulled out a short, silver flask. He screwed the top off and took a swig of its contents.

"Agreed," Theo mumbled.

"You said Father just now, does that mean you don't consider Lucius and Narcissa your parents anymore?" Pansy asked. Daphne was unnaturally silent, she wiggled her fingers in Blaise's direction. He snorted but passed her the flask.

"They are my parents… but they aren't at the same time. I see Cissa more like an older sister now," Draco frowned. They were undergoing an adjustment period where his relationship with the Malfoys was unfolding and changing before their eyes, he had no idea which direction it was going in.

More questions were posed, and eventually Theo and Blaise pulled up chairs from a table across the room and they formed a misshapen circle. Draco told them everything, from beginning to end. Occasionally he would pause to answer questions, but mostly they just listened.

Draco skimmed over some of the more intimate details, but he regales them with a tale of a lion and a snake who fell backwards through time, who lived in a den of lions with a marvellous snake for a Mother and a wondrous lion of a Father. Of friendships formed and broken. Of joy and grief. Of an old man's schemes, and a bloody, ruthless war. He told them all of it.

Pansy practically begged to see his tattoos and playfully mocked him for his sentimentality. And then asked him to take her to Killian's so she can get a few pieces herself.

Blaise bet Daphne that Pansy would pass out when she saw the needle. She detested needles.

The storytelling ate up the rest of the afternoon and it was almost eight o'clock in the evening when Draco finished. They'd taken breaks to fill him in on what had happened in Wizarding society and within Hogwarts walls whilst he'd been gone. They'd eaten their fill of what Narcissa had prepared and had several cups of tea.

Draco's friends sat in contemplative silence for several moments, drinking in the new information.

Theo cleared his throat. "Just to make sure I heard you correctly, you're fucking Hermione-not-Granger?"

Draco barked out a laugh. "Glad to know all the important details stuck."

Draco pulled up the silver chain around his neck to reveal the trio of pendants and the ring that had been nestled against his chest below his black jumper's collar. "Hermione Potter is the love of my life, and whenever she gets back—and I'd really like her to fucking hurry up—I'm going to ask her to marry me."

"Marriage?" Blaise whistled. "Must be bloody serious if you're considering marriage."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Draco drawled.

"I didn't think you were ever going to settle down after…" Blaise trailed off, eyes widening with every softening syllable. He peeked at Daphne in his peripherals.

"After he terminated his betrothal contract with Astoria," Daphne stated callously. "You can say it, Blaise."

(Harry had errantly mentioned to Daphne that Draco and Hermione were together, however he hadn't explained how serious their relationship was. Thus, she was currently processing Draco's declarations of love and intentions towards Hermione and how they would affect her little sister.)

"I had to end it," Draco said curtly, the warmth shuddered from his being and his expression grew tight with mild frustration.

"When you broke off your betrothal to Stori in the summer, she thought you would eventually change your mind. She's been refusing for months to meet with the eligible bachelors Mother has handpicked." Daphne said.

Draco sighed. "Not on my account. Daph, I made it extremely clear to Astoria when I ended our engagement that I wasn't ever going to change my mind," Draco said softly, his face relaxing.

At the time he thought doing what was best for her, especially since it wasn't a love match rather than an unspoken arrangement made between their parents when they were toddlers. It wasn't until months later that a drunk Daphne let it slip that Astoria had been infatuated with him ever since they were nine and eight respectively.

"Regardless, you should talk to her at some point," Daphne said with a heavy sigh.

"Why? She'll only see it as an insult. That I would assume news of my engagement to Hermione would upset her," Draco grumbled.

Draco'd never understood Astoria. Her inclination to speak only when she felt it absolutely necessary and her quiet nature made her appear colder than she was. She preferred to spend the afternoon surrounded by ancient texts deciphering them than she did around others.

Astoria once spent a weekend exploring the Black Lake (the year after the Triwizard Tournament) with the use of a Bubble head charm before Snape found out and forbade her from the activity. She chose to go at night from then on and dragged Blaise with her on a couple of occasions.

There was a calmness, a stillness to the girl that reminded him of a panther, silently stalking its prey before it struck at the opportune moment.

"That's true," Daphne allowed. "Anyway, Stori is a big girl. She'll get over it soon enough. Maybe this is the push she needs to start looking for an appropriate match." It wasn't meant to be an insult, and Draco agreed, but he winced all the same. Theo noted Draco's reaction with narrowed eyes, but his face instantly smoothed over.

"She's barely fucking eighteen. She can wait a while longer," Theo said gruffly. He scratched the side of his head and stifled a yawn. He clearly decided verbally sparring with Daphne wasn't worth the effort.

Pansy interrupted. "Your sister's wounded pride aside—"

"Pansy—" Daphne growled out, baring her teeth in warning. The two girls might be as close as sisters, but the only thing Daphne did not tolerate was people speaking ill of her sister. It'd been her duty to look after her quiet, shy sister as long as she could remember and she often bordered on being overprotective of her.

"Astoria is a big girl, Daphne. She can handle herself. It didn't work out with Draco, and that's not fair, but that's life. The people we like aren't always interested in us," Pansy huffed. She crossed one leg over the other, laced her fingers together, and held her knee.

"Our best mate spent almost a bloody decade in the past, and he's going to propose to Hermione-not-Granger! Do you know what this means?" Pansy asked, eyes bright, excitedly bouncing up and down in her seat.

"She has to say yes first," Draco interjected. He slumped to the left and dropped his head onto Pansy's shoulder. She flinched briefly, but quickly relaxed.

"Minor details. If what you've told us is even partially accurate then it's a given that she'll say yes."

"Witch took a bludger to the head for you, amongst other things," Blaise added. He was nibbling on a lemon tart. "Safe to say she's in it for the long haul."

"Focus," Pansy demanded. They did as she asked, all turning to her. "This means we get to host the event of the decade—no, the century."

"Fuck me," Draco groaned. "That sounds like a ruddy nightmare."

"Hush. This isn't about you," Pansy scoffed. "Narcissa will make sure it's both memorable and exquisite."

"Figures you would make my possible future wedding an opportunity to throw a grand party," Draco smirked.

Pansy turned her nose in the air. "Of course, I'm going to be a bridesmaid." Pansy smiled haughtily. "Although it may take some time getting used to being…cordial to Granger."

"Potter—" Draco corrected whilst Blaise said, "you'll be lucky to get an invitation."

Blaise tore off a piece of a buttery, pan au chocolat and popped it into his mouth. Some of the flaky pastry was left on his fingertips and he wiped it off on the napkin on his lap. He was a vision of naÏvety, as if no commentary had left his lips.

"Keep talking and you'll wake up with boils on your tongue," Pansy threatened,with narrow eyes and a fierce snarl.

"Kitty's got claws," Theo smiled crookedly. Pansy shot him a warning look and he raised his arms in surrender.

Blaise appeared to be unfazed by Pansy's threat. "This means we're going to be permanently involved with the lions doesn't it?" Blaiss groaned, slouching in his seat and sulking. "It's bad enough that Theo is going to marry into the most Gryffindor family ever, but now we're losing you to the lion's den as well?"

Theo was sipping some of his Elf Wine and almost choked at Blaise's latter statement. "Who said anything about marriage?" Theo sputtered. "I'm not ready for that shite yet."

"You do realize I'm one of those lions now," Draco asked, bemused.

Blaise rolled his eyes and dismissively waved a hand at Draco. "You can't fool me. In your heart you're not a lion though. Right? Please tell me that at least is bloody safe."

Pansy saw fit to change the subject with a nonchalant smile. "Whilst Blaise's melodramatics are always wildly entertaining, I think it's time we move on and discuss his love affairs. It's only right that we catch you up on everything you missed while you were gone."

"Oh? Do share, and don't skimp on any of the salacious details," Draco grinned toothily. Blaise growled and warned her with colourful language to keep her mouth shut. She dutifully ignored him.

"You do recall Terry? Terry Boot? Don't you, Draco? Ravenclaw?" Pansy's eyes were wide with innocence. Blaise was silently seething in his seat.

"It's the strangest thing, I'd never taken much note of him until this year. It's impossible not to now, as he is just everywhere I turn my head," Pansy said casually. She inspected her manicured nails; the black polish shining with intricate silver snake decals. Ginny had painted them for her.

"Can we get back to discussing how Draco has joined the bleeding heart club?" Blaise said, much calmer, having reigned in his ire at Pansy's teasing. She'd successfully gotten under his skin and she knew it.

Blaise and Terry were sailing through choppy waters at the moment. Terry wished to put an official title on their relationship and Blaise wasn't ready for that level of commitment. He'd never been in a long-term relationship before, mostly due to his Mother's influence.

Lady Zabini's marriages rarely lasted long as the men all died under mysterious circumstances. Blaise knew his Mother used her potioneering gifts to craft an undetectable poison that she fed the men when she tired of them. He figured it out when he was ten and her fourth husband passed away.

Blaise's Father had been the true love of her life she claimed, but he'd died young because of a deadly, incurable magical disease. She refused to change her last name—his Father's last name—and it had caused obvious friction with her subsequent husbands, but they eventually relented. They always did, his Mother was a bewitching woman.

Blaise didn't see much of his Mother these days, he hadn't since the war began and she fled to Italy with her latest suitor in the middle of the night, and left him behind at Zabini Manor. She'd tried to reach out a few months ago, but he burned her letter without opening it.

Blaise was not comfortable sharing the details of his childhood with Terry yet. His view of love and relationships had been twisted into something dark, and he was learning that it didn't have to be that way. Listening to Draco talk about Hermione confirmed that. Seeing his friends fall in love around him the past several months helped as well.

"I don't know Blaise. I think he truly has abandoned us for the reckless beasts," Pansy said with a playful lilt.

"Anyway—" Draco started.

"Oh, but Drakie, haven't you heard about Pansy's midnight jaunts to the greenhouses?" Blaise grinned. Pansy balled up her fists, her lips curled in a vicious snarl, and fire sparked in the depths of her dark eyes.

"Strange. It seems Longbottom also has frequent appointments in the greenhouses. Caught him sneaking out of Gryffindor Tower a few times." Theo opted to dive headfirst into the chaos, splashing fuel onto the fire.

"What were you doing skulking about Gryffindor Tower at that time anyway, Teddy?" Draco asked, his lips turning upwards into a languid grin.

"We might have crossed paths whilst I was sneaking in," Theo replied with a cheeky smile.

Pansy waved her wand at Theo and Blaise. Both wizards' eyes widened as she silenced them. Theo was speaking—heatedly—and gesturing to his mouth but no sound was coming out. Blaise straightened out, and cavalierly leaned back in his chair, a broad grin affixed to his face. In his eyes, he was the clear victor and he was revelling in every second of it. She'd won the battle, but he'd won the war.

"Longbottom?" Draco asked.

"Eat Hippogriff dung," Pansy muttered.

"I'm not judging you. In fact, I think it's marvellous, Pansy. I knew his parents—" Draco faltered mid-sentence.

Alice and Frank. The healing potion he and Hermione had painstakingly crafted specifically for them. He didn't know how he'd let it slip his mind, especially since neither Sirius nor Remus had mentioned finding the potions or healing their friends.

At that exact moment—as if fate saw fit to intervene—a massive, silvery-blue dog burst through the wall. At that exact moment, Draco felt an inexplicable warmth in his chest that made his fingers and toes tingle. A dormant bond clawed its way back to life.

The dog sat back on its haunches in the middle of the room, its tongue lolled out the side of its mouth. Sirius's voice erupted from it seconds later.

"DRAY! By the time you get this, you might already feel it, but Merlin's tits, Hermione is back! We'll explain more when we see you, but she said to go grab the potions for Frank and Alice, and meet us at St. Mungo's! We're off to grab Neville so you might get there before us. Oh, be a dear and grab Moony on your way!"

The voice cut off abruptly and the dog scratched behind its ear with its hind leg before dissipating into nothing.

"I have a feeling our lives are about to become a lot more tedious," Pansy grumbled, but Draco didn't register her words until several moments later.

Draco had been holding his breath, but the burning in his lungs reminded him to breathe. He released a hefty exhale before greedily sucking in air. Draco's bond with Hermione was scorching hot, strong and blatantly obvious now that he was actively searching for it.

How did I not feel it the moment she got back? Draco chastised himself mentally. He awkwardly pushed to his feet, but was glued to the spot. The shock had temporarily severed the link between his body and mind as he tried to process what was happening.

If Draco's arrival was dramatic and explosive, Hermione's return was ushered in quietly, like a susurrus of breeze that twisted through tree branches at dawn during Spring. So slight that no one noticed the subtle change in the air until they paused and paid attention.

"I guess you'll have your answer soon—if she'll accept your proposal or not," Daphne said with a kind smile. She rose from her seat and walked over to him. Daphne placed a gentle hand on his cheek. "What are you waiting for, Draco? The love of your life is back, aren't you going to go see her?"

Daphne's words snapped him into action, and without a word, Draco ran.

I adore this chapter. I had SO much fun with it. I also changed some things, and shifted the next chapter so that it happens later on in Part III. Hermione wasn't supposed to be back until Monday, April 12th in story time, but it flowed much better if I pushed her arrival up. I've also finished writing the next chapter, so I should be posting it soon x