A/N: Tissue warning.


The Strength of a Malfoy:

1998…

Hermione led the way into the castle through the same side exit that they'd used what felt like hours or days ago, and towards the nearest girls lavatory, more than a little bemused at the small herd of boys following her. She was used to leading Harry and Ron around, so this wasn't all that different now that there were three of them. But the fact that Neville had replaced Ron was more than kind of depressing, and the even bigger shocker of having a practically amicable Draco Malfoy added to the group was almost mind blowing.

She didn't understand how he could have changed so much in such a short time.

How does one go from an obnoxious bully with a particularly large stick up his arse to someone who actually seemed almost likable just like that? Unless… not having the Dark Lord to worry about has finally allowed him to be more like the person he wants to be instead of the person he had to be? And maybe he's finally seen past some of his ingrained prejudices. That would be amazing.

He DID lie for us back at the Manor the other day. Maybe it wasn't just a one-off like I'd originally thought.

Upon arriving at her intended destination, she turned to the boys as she put a hand on the door. "I'll just be a few minutes."

Draco snorted as if that was physically impossible, but Harry, at least, gave her his usual patient smile. She gave the Malfoy heir a half-hearted glower that he blithely ignored as Harry said. "Sure, Mione. Take your time."

"That's funny, Potter,' Draco said with a smirk as he leaned negligently against the wall across from the washroom.

"Why?" Harry and Neville said together, both automatically indignant on Hermione's behalf.

They're so sweet, she thought as she shot them a grateful smile before answering. "Because… I'm hopefully going back in time, thus time taken now is irrelevant. You did kind of make a joke, Harry, if you take that into context. Malfoy was just exercising his wit again at your expense."

"Malfoy," Harry growled under his breath, glaring at his nemesis.

Draco ignored the black haired boy wonder and put a hand on his heart, his expression almost sincere as he gazed at Hermione like she was the most brilliant thing he'd ever seen. "Awwwww, Granger, you know me so well. I'm touched. Truly."

Hermione gave him her best look of exasperation and pushed open the door. "Don't let it go to your already overinflated head, Malfoy."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he called back as she let the door slam on his smirk. "My head is perfect the way it is!"

Hermione rolled her eyes as his last words came through the door, muffled, but still understandable. He might not be as evil as I thought, but he's still a prat.

After making quick and much needed use of the loo, she walked over to one of the sinks to wash her hands. Glancing up at the mirror, Hermione did a double take at her reflection with a look of horror and frantically used her wet hands to semi tame down the literal ball of frizzy, staticky insanity that her hair had become, thanks to fire, water, and a drying spell that her stubborn hair had never agreed with. God! I look like an electrocuted lion or something! What in Merlin's name am I going to do with this?!

Braid! That'll have to do.

She pointed her wand at her head and zapped her hair with a quick charm that set it to braiding itself. It was as she was digging through her beaded bag for a relatively clean set of clothes to put on that she realized something.

Holy pumpkin seeds! Draco didn't tease me about my hair! And it honestly has never looked worse. He really is growing up.

Astonishing.


After Hermione disappeared into the lav, the boys glared at Draco from across the hallway. Harry and Neville had taken up cross-armed guard positions on either side of the door, as if Draco might pull something despicable against their princess.

Draco pretended that he wasn't offended at the insult to his honour for all of half a minute before it got to him, during which time, heavy silence reigned. "Ya know," he drawled, examining his nails (which needed trimming) like what he was saying didn't really matter. "I might be an ex Death Eater, but I've never been into attacking girls; you don't have to guard the door like I'm going to be suddenly overtaken with an uncontrollable urge to deflower Granger against her will."

Longbottom turned practically purple with embarrassment and Potter sputtered, his mouth opening and closing a few times as unintelligible sounds emerged. It was exactly the entertaining reaction Draco had been hoping for.

"You… you… you. You!" Harry finally got out. "Have you no sense of decency at all?"

Draco buffed his nails against his formerly white dress shirt, a smirk of triumph tilting one side of his mouth upwards. "Not particularly, no. I am a reprehensible Slytherin, after all. I would hate for your opinion of me to change just because we appear to be working together on something."

The Boy-Who-Disgustingly-Lived-Again sneered. "As if that would ever happen, Malfoy. You and I will never be friends."

"Good," Draco sneered back, copying Potter's cross-armed pose. "Glad we got that sorted before I ask Granger out so there are no misunderstandings in the future."

"You will do no such thing!" Harry all but yelled, rage filling him at even the thought of Draco sullying Hermione with his slimy Slytherin self. He charged across the hallway and planted himself right in Draco's face, Dumbledore's wand appearing in his hand and pointed at Draco's neck before he even really thought about it. Power coursed through him like he'd never felt before, but it hardly registered in his desire to shut down Malfoy.

Potter was almost scary looking with what Draco would almost swear were flames flickering in his green eyes and reflected in his glasses. Draco leaned forward anyway, right into the point of the wand, refusing to back down even an inch. "You can't stop me, Potty. Not unless you're willing to curse me here and now. And I'm not armed." He held up his hands to show that he had no intention of drawing his own wand in self-defence. "Is that what you are now, Potty? Someone who attacks unarmed men?"

Harry growled for a moment before he backed up, his new wand disappearing up his sleeve again. "No." He parked himself in his spot on the right side of the door again, ignoring Neville's wide eyed look. "You're right. I can't actually stop you from asking Hermione out, but I'll be very surprised if she says yes. You have never been nice to her, Malfoy, and I can guarantee that she'll remember that." A smile crossed Harry's face suddenly. "In fact, go right ahead and ask her. I'm very much looking forward to watching her turn you down."

Draco had to admit that was a possibility, but he'd done much harder things than ask a girl who probably hated him out, so he just shrugged. "If she does, she does. At least I'm willing to go after something I want instead of waffling about it for years before working up the guts."

Awkward silence reigned as everyone realized that Draco was talking about Ron's very obvious and much laughed about crush on Hermione. Ron, who was quite dead.

Draco cleared his throat after a minute. "Right. New subject, yeah?"

"Yeah," Harry grumbled.

Neville was silent, but nodded in a, 'For Merlin's sake, yes!' way.

"Soooo, I couldn't help but notice that Granger seems rather, um, thin, right now. That's not normal, right?"

Harry sighed, "Right. I didn't notice till today, and that's my fault. We've all been so stressed lately, and food's been a bit… scarce. But she's always found enough for Ron and I so we didn't actually go hungry. I think... I think that she's been sacrificing her own meals so that we could eat. It's exactly what she'd do."

"Well, I think our next move is to find some food for her before we let her try her insane time-turner plan," Draco said firmly. "Because you know she's going to forget about eating once she's on a new mission."

Potter looked at him in surprise. "I do know that, but how do you?"

Draco snorted. "I might not have been tied to her like you and Weasel, but I still have eyes. I still went to all the same classes as her, which is more than you did. I know how obsessive she can be when she gets something in her bushy head."

"Obsessive is an understatement," Neville muttered.

Harry couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. "True." He nodded at Draco with something resembling respect, starting to understand, whether he liked it or not, that Draco wasn't entirely as bad as he wished he was. "We'll go down to the kitchens next then, even if I have to pick her up and carry her, all right?"

Draco smiled. "All right."

And on that almost friendly note, the washroom door opened and out emerged the girl in question.

She was wearing jeans and another body hugging jumper, this time in a soft lavender colour that suited her very well. Her adorably crazy hair had been sort of tamed into a thick braid and she'd put on her own black robe for extra warmth since the dungeons were colder than a freezer even in the height of summer. (The second of May most certainly didn't qualify.) The gaudily beaded purple purse was still sitting across her body with the double straps dissecting her cleavage in the most mouthwatering way.

Draco gulped and pretended he wasn't completely drooling over her, the same way he'd been doing for years if he was being completely honest with himself.

He had no idea what his father and the rest of the Death Eaters were doing right now - if they'd been captured or killed or whatever, or if they even knew that they had no one left to fight for - but at the moment, he'd put them to the back of his mind to deal with later. Right now, he was following this fascinating girl for as long as he could get away with. And she needed his help to find her time-turner, whether she knew it or not.

It did something to him to know he was actually going to be doing something useful to help the Light side of the war of his own volition and not in any way self-serving. (Killing the snake had been more about revenge for the death of his Godfather than anything. He hadn't known it was a horcrux until it had exploded.)


Hermione glanced at her friends in surprise as she walked out, surprised to find them on either side of the door like security guards. What are they doing? Protecting me from Draco? That's a laugh. Draco might be a git, but he's not a rapist. I've had to listen to practically every girl in the school gossip about him plenty over the years, from how beautiful he is to how good he is at snogging, Not a single one has said he pushed them into doing anything they didn't ask for first. In some ways - a very few ways - he actually is a gentleman at heart.

Or maybe they're guarding against a possible Death Eater attack? Even though there doesn't seem to be another soul in this part of the castle?

Whatever. Boys are weird.

Said boys immediately proved her point by following immediately behind her, so close as to almost be in her personal space, as she walked across the wide hallway to give Draco his robe back that he'd so kindly lent her. "Thank you for the loaner. It was most appreciated." Is he blushing? Nah. Must be the lighting.

"It was nothing," Draco said softly as he accepted it, grasping the expensive fabric and smiling at her as prettily as he knew how. "I couldn't let you freeze, could I, with how little you had left on." Nice view or not. Those last words were wisely left unspoken, but he made sure his expression said them, eyes sparkling at her in appreciation and lips curved up just so.

His efforts paid off as a hint of colour swept over her somewhat more prominent than normal cheekbones.

Hermione blinked at the platinum haired boy who she'd swear upside and down was flirting with her. FLIRTING! The world is officially off its axis if Malfoy is flirting with ME, that's for sure. "Well, thank you anyway," she said, somewhat flustered at this other side of Draco that she'd only ever seen evidence of from afar as he charmed his various girlfriends.

She pulled her gaze off of his silver one and glanced at the floor, clearing her throat lightly. "Right. Next on the list is to find that time-turner so I can fix all of this." She started walking down the hallway to the right, which would take them to the nearest set of stairs to the dungeons and the territory of the Slytherins.

Harry, who'd been watching their flirtatious interaction with a horror struck expression that was echoed on Neville's face, pulled his wits back together and ran after his friend. "Hermione, wait!"

She turned around. "What, Harry?"

He skidded to a stop. "There's something else that should come first, and I really must insist on it."

A single golden brown eyebrow rose. "And what is that?"

Harry smiled a little sheepishly. "Feeding you. I know you, and I know you'll forget to eat as soon as you get where you're going, and I know you haven't had anything since lunch yesterday, cause I haven't. And it doesn't really matter how quickly you leave. So… yeah. Feeding you."

Hermione's stomach rumbled enthusiastically at the mere thought of food. And now that the thought had been reintroduced, she didn't think she could ignore the gnawing ache anymore. "All right. To the kitchens then, I suppose. I doubt they're serving breakfast in the Great Hall like they usually would right now." She set off back down the hallway, passing a surprised looking Harry and Neville.

"Wait, you're not going to argue with me?" Harry called, once again trotting to catch up.

Draco was standing roughly where he'd been, robe casually folded over his arm, looking as if he was waiting for her. He fell into step beside her as if they'd never been enemies for almost seven years straight.

Hermione stifled the automatic urge to gawk at him and just shrugged as she looked back at Harry over her shoulder. "What's the point? You're right and I'm starving."

"Hunh. Did you hear that, Neville? Hermione said I was right about something."

"I know. You'd best mark that down somewhere. It might be the only time you ever hear it."

Draco chuckled quietly and Hermione rolled her eyes at the boys' teasing. She then did her best to leave the lot of imbeciles behind in her quest to get to the kitchens as quickly as possible.


Draco allowed Granger her space and fell back a step, sensing she wasn't exactly in love with the idea of walking beside him just yet. As they travelled towards the circular staircase that would take them down to the kitchens located under the Great Hall, which was accessed via a short hallway off of the Entrance Hall, he shrugged into his robe, catching a whiff of her flowery scent from the collar as he did so. Oh Merlin. I am never letting the house elves wash this.

You're pathetic, his proud Slytherin side bemoaned.

Don't care.

Then don't let Father find you snuggling with a robe.

How stupid do I look?

Sometimes, like an utter moron.

Thanks.

But your latest decisions have been practically inspired, if I do say so myself.

Draco eyeballed the sway of Hermione's thick robe that hid her curves from view as she strode down the disturbingly empty (even the picture frames were devoid of their usual occupants) and occasionally battle torn hallways like a military commander instead of a well bred female. It turned him on, surprisingly. Like having an epiphany about Granger?

Exactly, his Slytherin side purred.


As she power walked down the last corridor before arriving at the Entrance hall stairs, Hermione pondered on the lack of people. So far, they'd seen exactly no one. Not even a ghost. I suppose all of the activity could still be taking place in the Entrance and Great Halls, but surely someone would be wandering around?

And then she turned a corner and suddenly it wasn't so quiet anymore. What started as a murmur of voices rose to a near cacophony as their little group descended the grand staircase.

Most of the noise was coming from the open doors of the Great Hall, but some if it was from the numerous people moving around below them. Most looked like they had a purpose as they scuttled from the Great Hall to the outdoors, but others looked shell shocked as they simply wandered or talked quietly to a companion. Students, teachers, and Aurors all wore the same weary expression of a long battle that had lasted through the entire night. As they hesitated on the final stairs, two Aurors that they didn't recognize walked in from outside, floating a couple of bodies in front of them that were either dead or unconscious. People made way for them as they moved towards the Great Hall doors.

"Looks like we missed the end," Harry said quietly, grimacing, as they stepped down onto the stone floor.

"Yeah. But we had our own end, that's for sure," Neville commented back.

"Should we see what's going on in there?" Hermione asked, tilting her chin towards the Great Hall, her curiosity warring with her stomach.

"We can after we get you something to eat," Draco said firmly, almost, but not quite, putting his hand on her back to push her in the direction of guaranteed food.

"All right," she said reluctantly, her stomach winning over, just, at Draco's caring persuasion.

They only made it a few steps further, though, before Draco froze, his eyes suddenly wide and fear filled as he looked towards the Great Hall.

"What? What is it?" Hermione asked, concerned. His complexion had gone from his usual gold tinted alabaster to ashen white in two seconds flat.

"I thought I heard…" he gulped and no more words came out as they all heard it this time.

"Cissa! Noooooo! Not my Cissa too!" It was the anguished cry of a man who'd just lost everything.

"Mum," Draco gasped, and then took off at a sprint for the nearby doorway, pushing people out of his way if they didn't move fast enough.

Hermione and the boys followed.

Inside the Hall that was usually filled with tables and cheer, the tables were gone and in their place were rows upon rows of dead bodies and wounded, both for the Light and the Dark sides. And in one corner, a small herd of captured Death Eaters huddled, tied up and under guard.

But everyone's attention was on the platinum haired man whose long hair was stringy with dirt and his clothes were ragged and slashed with blood trickling from several wounds. His bound hands had somehow managed to pull a blonde woman from the line of the deceased into his lap and he was huddled over her, tears streaming down his haggard face unchecked.

Lucius Malfoy looked nothing like the privileged and haughty pure-blood that Hermione knew and despised. This man was aged beyond his years from his time spent in Azkaban. And the loss of a wife that he must have actually loved had left him as nothing more than a broken shell of his former self.

In that moment, Hermione didn't despise the elder Malfoy anymore. All she felt was pity and sympathy.


Draco fell to his knees beside his father, who was still moaning, "Cissa, my Cissa," over and over again, tears running unchecked down his face as well. His father didn't notice at first, not until Draco reached out a trembling hand to touch her hair tentatively. "Mum?"

But there was no answer from the limp body in his father's arms. There wasn't a mark on her that he could see. She appeared to be sleeping peacefully. But she wasn't breathing.

Lucius finally looked up, blinking through the haze of tears to see his son. His beautiful, intelligent, stubborn, and oh-so-precious son. The son that he'd been forced to push away just to save him. The bitter, gaping hole in his chest that used to be his heart shrunk a fraction as a ray of relieved joy snuck in beside the overwhelming grief. He put his bound hands over his son's startled head to wrap his arms around his shoulders and pulled him close in a desperate hug. "Draco. Oh Merlin, Draco," he sobbed into the short hair that smelled of smoke. "I thought I'd lost you too when I hadn't seen you for so long."

After getting past the shock of receiving the first hug (or even any sign of genuine affection) from his father in more than decade, Draco wrapped his arms around his father in return as they shared their grief over the loss of the woman in their life that had held their family together despite the trying times that had pushed Draco and Lucius further and further apart in their opinions.

Draco had hated that his family was all but enslaved to a Dark Lord even after he was supposed to be dead, continuing on as if he were still alive, seeing to his finances and business dealings. He'd hated that his father had started acting exactly like the grandfather that had lectured him on blood ideals for hours on end when said grandfather died, as if Lucius had been possessed by Abraxas' spirit or something. He'd hated that his formerly affectionate father had turned even colder when the Dark Lord returned for real, feeling like he was no longer loved or particularly wanted. And never bloody good enough. And he'd hated the most the fact that the Dark Lord had used his parents against each other to keep them in line, threatening their lives and his mother's wellbeing, and that his father had just seemed to accept it as the way things were.

That's why Draco had gravitated towards his Uncle Sev. Someone he'd found out quickly was actually working for the Light side despite all appearances to the contrary. Severus Snape had been a good man, and a much stronger one than his father had ever been, as far as Draco could tell. There had been many times in the last decade when he'd wished that Severus was his real father and not just his Godfather. So many times.

But now, all of that faded away as his father's strong arms held him again like they used to when he was little. As he whispered his name like a prayer. As they both cried over the loss of Narcissa Malfoy, a woman who would never hurt even a fly, and didn't deserve to die in a senseless battle that she had no business being anywhere near.

Why was Mum here, anyway?

The thought wouldn't leave him alone. And with it came a refreshing anger that brought clarity back to his water soaked mind. So he ducked out from under his father's hug and swiped at the tears on his face with a sleeve, ignoring the sympathetic looks from people who passed their little island of grief amongst other, similar, islands. "Why?" he demanded of the dirty, bloody, ghost of a man that was masquerading as Lucius Malfoy, grey eyes meeting grey, both looking like thunderclouds instead of bright sliver like they did when they were happy. "Why was she here? Why did you bring her here?"

"I… I didn't," Lucius mumbled, as he absently rubbed at his own face with his bound hands. He looked down, trembling hands now running over Cissa's soft blond hair in a petting motion, eyes drinking in her beautiful features for what was probably the last time. "Voldemort sent Bella to get her when you were taking too long in your quest to stop Potter from finding the last horcrux."

Draco buried his face in his hands, squeezing his eyelids closed as more tears threatened to pour out. Merlin. This is my fault too. I can't do anything right.

Lucius put his bound hands on Draco's heaving shoulder in total understanding, but no blame. He told the rest of his tale with a voice that broke occasionally as a sob or shuddered breath interfered with his already strained vocal cords. "He wanted her nearby to ensure our continued obedience because he knew I didn't want to be here either, so it wasn't just you. I don't know where Bella stashed her or how she ended up like this. I can only assume that Bella got distracted by something and left Cissa to her own devices. If I had to guess, your mother went looking for us and got in the way of a duel. I didn't even know that she was… dead… until I saw someone bring her in a few minutes ago."

Draco swallowed hard, regaining control of his emotions, and nodded. He looked up at his father, who he suddenly forgave for everything, realizing that Lucius was just as much a victim of their circumstances as he had been and that he'd paid enough with his stay in prison and the loss of his beloved. He didn't deserve Draco's disdain on top of everything else. "I'm sorry, Father. Sorry for all of this. But I know how to make it right again, and that's what I'm going to do." Taking a deep breath, Draco surged up to his feet, leaving a stunned Lucius behind as he made his way back to Hermione and her guard dogs - one of whom now had a red-haired Weaslette attached to his side like she was never going to let go -, who had all been watching quietly from nearby.

"Come on, Granger. We've got history to rewrite," Draco said firmly as he approached the group of Gryffindors. "I want my Mum and Uncle Sev back."