Later that same evening, Draco returned back to his room and was reading when he heard pecking at his window. Wandering over and opening it, he didn't immediately recognize the owl.

"Hello."

The bird hooted and held out its talon, a piece of parchment wrapped in a scroll around its leg. He took the missive and gave the owl a treat, and then watched it fly off into the night, clearly not expecting a reply.

He sat back down and opened the scroll, immediately noticing the sweeping scrawl that was Granger's handwriting.

Draco-

I'm sorry I missed you this morning. I was with Harry last night at Grimmauld Place, doing a bit of redecoration. Actually, we took down all the old severed elves heads and removed Walburga Black's portrait, that had a permanent sticking charm on it. Magic didn't seem to work, so we used Muggle methods and tore down the wall.

I didn't realize we had plans for today, and I do apologize if I made the mistake and forgot.

I will be going to Paris tomorrow to pick up some more materials from Master Flamel and if you would like to accompany me, you're more than welcome to.

I will wait for you at ten. If you aren't here by ten after, I'll take that to mean you have other plans and aren't available. Either way is fine.

Hermione

He reread the note again and sat back with a grimace of disgust.

Mounted severed heads?

How gauche and barbaric!

He set the letter down and went to find his mother, needing some additional information for his own peace of mind. It wasn't as if he didn't believe Granger, but he knew he'd feel better if he could get some verification.

He found his parents in his Father's study, reading.

"Father, Mother..." he greeted his parents amiably, as he sauntered into the room and took his preferred spot next to the window.

"Draco, to what do we owe this honor?" His Father's voice was even, his gaze never leaving his book, while his Mother was watching him with a concerned look in her eye.

"I just wanted to let you both know, that I'll be going to Paris tomorrow."

"Oh?" His Father set his book down, now giving his undivided attention. "And why would you be going to Paris?"

"Hermione invited me to attend her as she visits with Master Flamel. She has some more reading material to acquire from him."

"Is that where you've been these past few days?" His Mother queried, and he nodded.

"She is allowing me to aid in her research. I don't know where she's finding time to study for her NEWTS, as well as doing all this additional work."

"Were you planning on finishing your studies as well?"

He had already written to McGonagall and inquired if he might take his NEWTS via correspondence as well.

"I'm just waiting to hear back from the new Headmistress. I can't imagine she'll have a problem with it, since I doubt she'd want me returning to finish my seventh year after everything that's happened."

Lucius frowned, but didn't reply as he could well imagine Minerva's feelings on the subject.

The witch venerated Dumbledore.

"I'm sure she'll be agreeable." Narcissa tried to reassure, and while he appreciated his Mother's encouragement, even if he wasn't so sure himself. "So Paris?"

"Yes."

Narcissa pursed her lips and glanced over at her husband, seeing his own curiosity leaking out from behind his silver eyes.

"According to our solicitor, our probation does not prohibit you from escorting your intended, however, I must warn you, Draco—that until we make the formal announcements, there will be much speculation if you both are photographed together. Are you sure you're ready for such a declaration?"

"Father, whether or not I am, is beside the point. I'm to marry the witch, correct?"

At his Father's solemn nod, he forged ahead...

"She will be my wife. We've both decided to try and find some measure of commonality as a means to form a foundation. I have no doubt, if I do not at least attempt to make a concerted effort, Hermione will have no problem choosing Potter as her consort, and I might be many things...but I'm not sure that's a reality I can easily abide."

"And do you think she has already chosen?" Narcissa asked.

"I think she and Potter have a history. A history, I'm fairly certain, I can't compete with."

"Why do you feel you need to compete, my Dragon? Yes, your history with Miss Alphonse is fraught with unkindness, mostly perpetrated by you—but under the circumstances, I'm not sure it could've occurred much differently. The fact remains that Pierre chose to hide her identity, and whether or not we can understand that sentiment, it does not change what has transpired. You need to try and move forward and create your own unique history with the witch. Show her the wizard you can be, not the one you were bound to be."

"Aren't they one and the same, Mother?"

"Are they?"

He pondered that question seriously.

It was true, he had a role to play at Hogwarts. He was a Malfoy, and as such could not be seen openly consorting with Mud...no...Muggleborns. (He needed to get that line of thinking out of his head). Of course, his Grandfather would've never allowed it and his Father would've been even more disappointed in him than he was for coming in second every year to Granger, but that slight, however much it irked him at the time—was inconsequential to the reality of the Dark Lord's return and his indentured servitude to the wizard.

Being a Malfoy, there simply was no choice—no alternative.

Some might've seen it as cowardice, but being a Slytherin—it was a matter of inherent self-preservation. It was a lesson he'd been taught almost too well growing up.

"Perhaps you're right, Mother." He said at last, before changing the subject to why he'd originally come down here in the first place. "Hermione did indicate she was at Grimmauld Place with Potter removing the heads of former House elves and Great Aunt Walburga's portrait last evening. Did her portrait have a permanent sticking charm?"

Narcissa grimaced at the reminder of her vulgar aunt. She'd never liked the woman much, but Bellatrix had adored her.

"I can confirm the story about the heads of the House Elves. Nasty business. The last time I was at Grimmauld Place, was right after Regulus death. There are several portraits there that had unusual charms associated with them, but I do remember one particular Black charm that was rather insidious and difficult to remove with any known magic. If dear Aunt Walburga's portrait had been fixated with such a spell, it's unlikely that the portrait could've been removed by any magical means."

"What about Muggle?"

"Excuse me?" Narcissa demanded. "What do you mean?"

"Well, apparently Hermione in her letter, indicated she couldn't figure out how to get Walburga's portrait off the wall, so she and Potter destroyed the wall. The Muggle way. Tore it down by the foundation."

His Father gaped comically while his Mother's eyes widened, and then she threw back her head and laughed out in glee.

Both he and his Father, stared at her in utter shock.

"Love?" Lucius drawled, "I'm not sure why that is amusing."

Narcissa snickered a bit longer, before casually wiping a fallen tear from her cheek. "Oh please, Luc! You remember what a wretched witch my Aunt was? Can't you just picture her screams of indignation as the wall came tumbling down around her? I might have to ask Miss Alphonse for the memory. It should make for a good laugh, if nothing else."

His Father smirked, while he continued to openly stare horrified at his Mother, who was smiling in utter mirth.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her thusly.

"Was she really so horrid?" He asked lowly, and both his parents nodded together.

"Bellatrix adored her, Draco. That alone, should tell you what kind of witch she was. I may have loved my sister, but even I wasn't blind to how unhinged and manic she was. Even as children, she was not completely sane."

"That's an understatement." He deadpanned, earning a reproving glare from his Mother and a snort from his Father. He then remembered something from the other day. "Do you know of any spell or potion that might get rid of the Dark Mark or scars left from Aunt Bella's knife?"

His Mother paled at the question, while his Father coughed and shook his head in the negative.

"No. If there is such a thing, I have never heard of it...why?"

"Because when I visited Hermione a few days ago, she was at her family's lake swimming and I noticed that her scars, particularly the mudblood scar...were nearly gone." He wasn't surprised by his parent's similar looks of shock. "When I asked her about it, she said it was a family secret, but didn't expound on the details."

"Did you ask for any?" His Father sat forward, his interest clearly piqued.

"Not exactly." He debated on whether or not to share with his parents about Hermione's research, but decided it was probably best to keep that information to himself for the time being.

"That's unprecedented." His Father admitted with a thoughtful frown. "And something that would be very valuable, if made widely available."

"Don't get any ideas, Father. I need to earn Hermione's trust and I'm not sure that's going to be forthcoming anytime soon, especially if I go probing for Alphonse family secrets."

"Of course." Lucius nodded, but he could see the disappointment behind his Father's gaze. "I would imagine that in due time, should your union with Miss Alphonse prove equitable for the both of you, you might become more privy to that information."

"Maybe." Was all he said, clearly not wanting to debate the matter any further. "I should retire for the evening. I will see you both later tomorrow."

"Of course." Narcissa smiled, as she watched her son stand up and walk over, placing a swift kiss on her cheek in parting then nodding to his Father. As she and Lucius watched him leave, they both were thinking the same thing.

That perhaps this marriage with Miss Alphonse to their Son, would prove even more fortuitous than they'd originally surmised.