Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
Legal Guardian
Chapter 2
Hermione shuffled into Harry's room as he filled his pockets with anything that might be of help to them, most of them were George and Fred Weasley's invention. She suddenly remembered that Fred was still in critical situation with chances of losing his legs.
"You ready?"
"What should we tell Ron?" Hermione glanced at the door, almost expecting Ron to come bursting through.
"Nothing. We tell him nothing. Let him sleep."
"He will be so angry," she mumbled as she tugged her cloak closer to her body. "Did you talk to Ginny?"
"No." Harry shrugged his robe over his sweater and pants and reached for his cloak.
"Harry, you need to talk with Ginny," she said exasperatedly, "You can't avoid her forever."
"No, not forever," he replied absentmindedly, "But I can avoid it until after the war."
"Harry--"
"Hermione, can we not talk about this right now? I know you are nervous."
She sputtered. "And you aren't?"
"Of course, I am."
"But what else can we do?" Hermione finished. "Here, it might come in handy. I presumed that you know how to use it" She handed him a gun.
Harry's eyes widened briefly before tucking the handgun into his pocket. "You have one, also?"
"Yes." She patted her side as an indication.
"How did you get pass Mad Moody? You know how anal he is about the muggle weapons."
"I didn't," she raised an eyebrow at Harry. "I was in charge of the transaction. I took two of the handguns and several dozens bullets just in case."
Harry stared at his shoes intently as he tied the lace. "Five years, huh? What a change."
"Indeed," she replied.
"Maybe the person underwent some changes too." He jerked his attention toward the note lying placidly on the table.
"Maybe," she glanced at her watch, "We should go."
"You have the portkeys?"
"Yes. There is no way to track us with all the locations we are jumping to." She opened plastic bag and jostled the trinkets around. "The last portkey will land us somewhere near Hogsmeade and we will walk from there."
"Hogsmeade was taken over though," Harry tapped one of the large red X that's on map covering the table, "Dementors should be flowing around." A barely noticeable shiver went through his spine.
Hermione opened her hand and reveals several large bars of chocolate. "Come on, Harry."
He tucked the mysterious note in his pocket and took out another parchment and turned to Hermione. "A note for Ron just in case."
She nodded and took out a tattered teddy bear. Harry raised an amused eyebrow. "Be quiet, Harry."
And they were gone.
After several successive feeling of something yanking at the guts and transporting to another location, Hermione was glad to be standing on solid ground for more than five minutes. Harry grabbed her hand and deftly pulled her out of the street.
"I still prefer good old transportation," Hermione mumbled as Harry fumbled for his Invisibility Cloak.
"Where are the Dementors?" Harry hissed.
She peeked at the desolated streets and broken shop windows. "No one. I think Voldemort is planning something. This should be heavily guarded especially being so close to Hogwarts," she whispered, "Harry, what if this is only to divulge our attention. What if they figure out the location of the headquarter. What if--" Hermione stopped herself.
Harry brandished the cloak from the darkness of his pocket and ignored Hermione's moment of hysteria. He lifted the cloak for Hermione and they scuffled in the direction of the Whomping Willow.
Hermione quickly performed a quiet charm for their shoes as they trudge through dry, dead leaves littered across the ground. She remembered the Hogsmeade weekends. Harry and Ron would fill their mouths with sweets and she would always buy a new book for some pleasure reading.
At this time in the year, third years would be running through the dead leaves, taking in their chance for brief freedom from schoolwork and professors. Around this time of the year, the leaves would still be falling in their iridescent shades of oranges and reds. She quickly wiped her eyes.
Harry squeezed her hand; he understood. He could also see the third years. He could also see his abysmal date with Cho. He could also see himself sneaking into Hogsmeade in his Invisibility Cloak and gave Malfoy a good scare. They stopped.
The Whomping Willow seemed larger for some reason but it was still the same. It already sense intruders.
"Harry, quick," Hermione hissed.
Harry mumbled an elongation charm and his wand suddenly grew. He tapped the knob and the tree stopped moving.
He remembered Sirius and the overwhelming joy when Sirius offered to be his legal guardian. He remembered the Dementors and his Patronus. He remembered the despicable rat fleeing into the forest because he was too lenient. He didn't realize that he was also frozen in place with his memories and anger until Hermione tugged on his arm.
"I know, Harry. I miss him too." And she disappeared into the Whomping Willow. Harry followed after a brief glance at Hogwarts, once his home and his sanctuary, now in the palm of Voldemort.
Hermione dusted the dirt from her cloak. "Lumos." A soft, glowing light perched at the tip of her wand. "Harry." She searched for his hand.
"I am here," he grunted from his fall and reached for the faint outline of Hermione's hand. He took his wand out and led the way to the Shrieking Shack. "You will never get over your fear of the dark, huh?"
"Shut it, Harry," she shot back playfully. Only a few people knew of her fear of the dark. She hated dark places even in Hogwarts; she made sure that she always walked with a torch or her wand.
"Why are you afraid of the dark, Hermione?" They turned and the hallway got steadily steeper.
Hermione glanced behind her at the absolute nothingness and immediately whirled her eyes to focus on Harry's back. "It is the not knowing what's out there that scares me," she whispered softly. "It is like a boggart. It can be your worst fear and the worst part is that you can't see it. You can't confront it because you are not even sure what it is. Aren't you afraid, Harry?"
Harry turned to look at her illuminated face. "Yes. I am afraid of a lot of things." He was suddenly lost in the images of his life from his multiple encounters with Voldemort and traumas of puberty.
Hermione stepped in front of Harry and tugged him along. They stopped in front of the dead end and looked up. "We are here." The last time that they were here Harry found out that his parents were actually murdered by Ron's rat. "It's okay, Harry." Hermione gave Harry's hand one last squeeze before releasing it. She extinguished her wand as Harry pushed against the square of wood.
A creak resonated in the hallway.
Harry quickly climbed out of the opening and reached for Hermione's hand while watching his surroundings. The Shrieking Shack did not change. A thick film of dust covered the furniture and floor. The broken chairs and torn-up sofa remained. The fireplace was hearty with warmth and light.
Someone was already here.
Hermione closed the opening gently and glanced around warily. She also noticed the surprised warmth and light. Shadows danced in accordance of the healthy fire.
"Where is he?"
"Or she," she added. She held her wand up; ready for attack, and her other hand was deep in her pocket, gripping onto the handgun.
"Granger, I suggest that you take your hand out of your pocket," a familiar voice drawled.
Harry and Hermione pivoted and found a figure donned in complete black at the doorframe. He (the voice was distinctively male) was holding a bundle in his arms and his hood obscured his face.
She did take her hand out of her pocket but with the handgun in her hand. "Who are you?"
"Pity, you don't recognize your old friend anymore," the figure took a step closer; his hood cast a dark shadow across his features. "How about you, Potter?"
Harry frowned at the familiar voice and the familiar drawl but his attention was drawn toward the bundle the figure held in his arms.
The figure shifted the bundle closer to his body when he noticed Harry's glance. "Don't think too hard, Golden Boy, or your brain will bust."
Hermione's eyes lit up in recognition and she gripped the handgun harder. "Malfoy."
"Ay, always the smart one." Malfoy shook his hood off, revealing his trademark platinum hair.
Although not dirty or messy, Malfoy's appearance was less that immaculate which Hermione found odd. His eyes were bloodshot from lack of sleep and his chin was covered with stubbles. His hair was cut short and his bangs falls freely into his eye. He smirked revealing his pearly whites.
Harry stepped forward. "What do you want, Malfoy?"
"Why don't we start with what you want?" Malfoy sneered. It was almost like they were back at Hogwarts slinging petty insults at each other. "How is Creevey doing?"
Harry lunged forward but Hermione stopped him. She turned her angry eyes at Malfoy. "Near death." Colin Creevey was found in an alley in northern England unconscious and beaten. His skin was in a dreadful shade of purple and green. He had been coughing up buckets and buckets of blood since some Light patrols found him.
"He was stupid enough to think that he could take pictures of our strategy plans without being found," he arched an elegant brow at Harry's bubbling anger and Hermione's glare. "I suggest that you put the gun away, Granger, or Creevey will die."
Her mouth dropped. "What do you mean?"
"I mean I have the antidote to Creevey's poison. It is ingenious. The poison does dreadful things to human's blood."
Hermione put the handgun away. "What do you want, Malfoy?" She spat his name out with hatred.
"You be careful who you are speaking to, mudblood."
Harry was shaking with fury. "Malfoy, what is the point of this meeting?"
"An exchange," Malfoy glanced at the bundle in his arms and shift it again. "I will give you the whereabouts of the Dark Lord and the last Horcrux."
Harry's eyebrows disappeared under his mob of hair. "For what in exchange?"
"I want to be completely exonerated."
"What?" Hermione gaped. "That is impossible. People saw you killed, Malfoy."
Malfoy glanced at her with an amused smirk. "If I am a spy, I will be completely exonerated."
"But you are not!" She was turning red with anger and indignation while Harry pondered at the proposal.
"I do believe handing the Dark Lord and the last Horcrux is consider to be an action of a spy. If you lose the last battle, you lose the war. For someone who is suppose to be smart, you are incredibly draft, Granger."
"Why?" Harry looked squarely into a pair of stone gray eyes. "Why now when you never showed any signs of switching sides?"
"Things change, Potter," he shifted the bundle again. "Especially when you are a father."
Both Harry's and Hermione's eyes bulged out. Father? "What are you trying to say, Malfoy?"
Malfoy glared at Harry condescendingly. "Are you that stupid, Potter? Do I need to explain the meaning of father to you?"
"What does being a father have anything to do with the exoneration of the your name, Malfoy?" Hermione took a step closer.
"I also want you to take care of my daughter."
Hermione looked as if she had just been shock with a lighting bolt. "What?" she shrilled. She didn't realized how loud she was until the bundle in Malfoy's arm began to fuss.
"Granger, I just lulled her to sleep. Keep your voice down," he snapped. Suddenly, Malfoy's angry countenance was smoothed away as he turned his attention to fussing child. He proceeded rocking the baby in his arms and murmuring incoherent words.
If her jaw could drop any lower, it would have. Harry was stunned. Hermione resembled a bug-eyes goldfish.
She watched Malfoy gently bounced the baby in his arms while humming some unfamiliar melody. He shifted his weight leg to leg and rocked his arms back and forth. She turned to look at Harry who was just as shocked as she was. They both stared at Malfoy as if Ron just waltzed in with a pink tutu and lipsticks.
When the baby finally stopped fussing and Malfoy stopped mumbling, Harry and Hermione regained their composure. Malfoy turned his attention to the two Gryffindors. The caring and loving look in his eyes was gone as his stone cold eyes watched them like a hawk.
Hermione coughed. "You want us to take care of your…"
"Daughter," Malfoy resumed his easy drawl, "A memory problem?" He arched a patronizing brow.
She ignored the insult. "And you want your name exonerated just for an antidote."
He smirked and took his time fixing the folds of his robes and the baby's blanket. "That's not enough?"
"Malfoy, you know it is not enough."
He raised his eyes to hers. "And I thought you were the caring bunch."
"Cut the crap, Malfoy," Harry snarled impatiently.
"Watch your language, Potter," Malfoy snapped back. "I told you, I would hand you the Dark Lord and the last Horcrux."
"How?"
"I will tell you when the plans are finalized."
Harry gave Hermione a questioning look. Can we trust him?
"Malfoy, how can we trust you?"
The ex-Slytherin glared toward them. "You can make the exonerating declaration after you defeat the Dark Lord. It should be apparent then that I switched side," he glanced at the baby with a soft expression. "And you will have my daughter." He watched Golden Boy and the Know-It-All conversed with each other in meaningful glances and the tautness of their jaws. He stroked his daughter's cheek absentmindedly and allowed himself to soften his smirk into something that resembled a miniscule smile.
They turned their attention back to their arch-nemesis.
"Before you answer, there are conditions."
Hermione gripped Harry's arm and prevented him from bursting forth with indignation.
"Nothing spoken in this room may be repeated to anyone else. Therefore, no one can know that I gave you my daughter under these circumstances or else she will be danger. I want Granger to take of my daughter and no one else. My daughter will remain a Malfoy; no name change."
She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "Won't she still be in danger if people know that she is a Malfoy?"
"People will only think you took the child out of the goodness of your heart." The last part was laced with bitterness and scorn. "As long she is under the care of the heroine of war and best friend of the Boy-Who-Refused-To-Die, she will be safe."
"Hermione," Harry said softly, "You don't have to agree to this."
She glanced at Malfoy as he pore his eyes into her soul and remembered the way Malfoy looked at his child. Hermione turned to Harry and gave his hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's fine, Harry."
Malfoy almost wanted gagged at the scene in front of him. The sickening camaraderie between the two friends was sickening. It was overwhelming with love and concern. He looked at his daughter. At least, it would be something that she can experience. Something he would never understand and never know. With one arm carrying his baby, Malfoy waved his wand and a scroll appeared.
"I need to talk to Granger alone."
Harry was about to protested when Hermione simply nodded and stand forward. Harry shuffled to the other side of the room, out of hearing range.
"Yes? Malfoy." She was eager to see his baby but she reigned in her apprehension and impatience.
"I've already created an account for her at Gringotts. She is wearing a necklace with a key. She is also wearing a Malfoy's heirloom—a necklace with the family ring. I want her to keep wearing it; it protects the wearer from certain harms. And--" He stroked the baby's cheek again.
If she squinted a little and tilted her head, she could almost some resemblance of human emotions in Malfoy. "Malfoy, don't you think it would be better for her mother to take care of her?"
He did not look at her. "Pansy is dead."
There were rumors that Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson were married two years ago but everything was so chaotic that no one cared. Ministry of Magic was a mess and everyone was just scrambling to stay alive.
"How about her family? The Parkinsons?"
It was a well-known fact that Ron Weasley killed Lucius Malfoy in blind rage after Hermione was discovered half-dead at the Malfoy Manor even Harry could not stop Ron. The whereabouts of Narcissa Malfoy were unknown. It was rumored that she was one of the human sacrifices used to sustain Voldemort's dwindling life.
Malfoy let out a bark of wild laughter. "If they are not dead by the end of this, they would be captured. Even if they survived the trials, my daughter will simply be a tool for them to get into the Malfoy's fortunes."
"Why me?" Hermione asked the question that had been pestering since the proposal.
"Because, in all your self-righteousness," he sneered and then soften into a low tone, "You will raise my child as your own."
"B-but," she faltered. "I am a mud-muggleborn." Her eyes stung; she could not believe how she almost called herself that foul name.
Malfoy turned away from her moment of distress and stared into the sleeping face of his daughter. "Granger, have you ever have to deliver a live? It was just after a raid. Our forces were almost cut in half. We dispersed and Pansy went into labor. I was the only one there. Pansy was screaming like a banshee. She lost too much blood and died almost immediately after the birth." He didn't even realize that his hands were shaking. "The ironic thing was the next day, I saw a muggleborn go into labor. It was as if the gods were shoving something into my face. Someone crushed the newborn under his foot before she, the baby was a girl, even finished her first cry."
She gasped.
"I told everyone that Pansy died and the baby was stillborn."
"Malfoy, I--"
"I am not asking for redemption, Granger. I know I will die. I want my daughter to live a good life. Life filled with all the stuff that you read about in children's books. She will be well provided for. She is a Malfoy and everything that has the Malfoy's name on it will be hers once she turns seventeen. The document will verify that I named you as the legal guardian."
"Kayleigh Aquila Gladiolus Malfoy." Hermione said as she perused the document. "That's a mouthful."
"Aquila, constellation of an eagle. Gladiolus, the flower of August."
"Kayleigh?"
Malfoy's mouth tightened into a thin line before answering, "The woman's last wish."
"What?"
"The Muggleborn's child," he snapped, "Before she died, she wanted to named her baby Kayleigh."
"Oh."
A pregnant silence dragged on.
Malfoy broke the silence, "Granger, you need to sign the document."
Hermione glanced at his expression and the bundle in his arms. She thought of Tom Riddle and Harry. She thought the several thousands of children in orphanage. She thought of the power that this little child possessed because of her name. Kayleigh could become the rallying point for future outbreaks but if Hermione raised her then she would love her as if Kayleigh was her daughter. She exhaled sharply.
She signed the document. A tiny voice in the corner of her mind wondered what she is getting into. Sudden realization hits, she was going to take care of Malfoy's baby. She gripped the quill harder than she should and it snapped.
Malfoy raised his eyebrow but did not say anything about his snapped quill. He took out a dagger.
Harry who was watching from the side immediately jumped in.
"Calm down, Potter. This document requires blood to seal it."
This was serious. Hermione dropped the broken quill onto the ground.
"Granger, if you want to back out, say so now," his gray eyes reflect the dancing flames, "After this, there is no turning back. If you are not willing to take care child, say so now."
"Can I hold her?" she asked softly, almost timidly. Malfoy watched her warily and slowly placed Kayleigh in Hermione's arms. The baby shifted and scrunched her face in an absolutely adorable way but did not wake up.
Something in Hermione's heart just melt. The baby fit perfectly in the cradle of her arms. A sudden instinctive, maternal feeling overwhelmed her. "Harry, can you hold her?" her voice cracked from the mammoth amount of emotions coursing through her veins. Malfoy looked as if he wanted to tackle Harry for touching his daughter.
"Let finish it, Malfoy."
He held out his hand and Hermione place her hand palm up in his hand. He sliced cleanly across her palm; Hermione barely winced. Malfoy looked at the blood curiously before shaking his head and glided the blade across his palm. Palm to palm, the blood dripped onto the floating parchment.
The parchment glowed green and the glow disappeared.
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