Hermione watched Draco leave, and she felt her stomach clenching with the keen sensation of something akin to reluctant regret. When she glanced over at Harry, he shrugged, almost as if he was telling her the decision was hers to make.
Part of her didn't want to chase after Malfoy. He'd hurt her in far worse ways, but she also knew that he was to be her husband, whether she liked it or not.
Her gaze landed on Narcissa Malfoy's, and there was accusation and censorship there, but to the woman's credit, she didn't seem all that surprised either.
"Lady Malfoy, where would Draco have gone?"
Lucius scoffed, but a quick glare from his wife had him backtracking. Blue-grey eyes considered her again, before Narcissa called out, "Bibi?"
A tiny elf, popped into view.
"Yes, Mistress?"
"Could you please tell me where my Son has gone off to?"
"He's heading towards the hedges, Mistress."
"Very well, would you please take Miss Alphonse to where Draco is?"
"Of course, Mistress."
Hermione stood and allowed the tiny elf to take her hand, and the next thing she knew, she was standing in front of the largest set of hedges she'd ever seen in her entire life.
"If Miss walks inside and goes to the left and then the right, you will find the young's Master sitting by the fountain."
"Thank you, Bibi."
The elf nodded and then disappeared with a quiet pop.
Taking a deep, fortifying breath, she followed the instructions from the elf, and found Draco as promised, sitting by a large fountain, that had a set of wyverns curling around each other, and she cleared her throat to get his attention.
Sharp grey eyes lifted, and Draco's expression soured as he glared at her.
"Come to wedge that knife a bit further into my back, Granger?"
She moved forward and shook her head in exasperation, "Stop being dramatic, Malfoy. If we're to be married, one thing you'll need to do is grow thicker skin when it comes to dealing with my Father. He enjoys creating drama and leaving his quarry on edge. It's good sport for him."
"So you're telling me you didn't discuss the possibility of doing this Muggle procedure with him?"
"Not at all. I did, when I first found out about the betrothal contract, but let's be fair, Malfoy—can you honestly see us..."
"Fucking?" He interrupted, and she scowled.
"That's not the word I would've chosen."
"But apt, all the same."
She waved her hand to concede the point, as she wasn't going to argue semantics with a Slytherin.
That was a lose-lose proposition if she'd ever heard of one.
Instead, she gestured to the open space on the bench next to him and inquired politely, "Might I sit?"
He sighed, and bowed his head in the affirmative, so she sat down, and faced Malfoy.
"I apologize for my Father springing that discussion on you like he did. I wish there was an easier way for us to find common ground, Malfoy. It's hard after so many years, being at each other's throats, to not have that gut check reaction when something unexpected happens."
His gaze was now assessing her, and then he hummed softly, "I can see that. For the record, it wasn't my intention to force your hand about helping Astoria. My parents chastised me for being short-sighted and perhaps assuming based on what I've seen of your Gryffindor sensibilities, that you'd willingly help. But I shouldn't have assumed."
"No, you shouldn't have, but Harry talked me down too. My first reaction was due to the fact that I felt you didn't consider my feelings at all, and that just brought back all those memories from school. The name calling, the taunting..."
Draco bowed his head again, but this time it was due to his own sense of contrition for how he'd hurt his intended.
Maybe this was karma's punishment for him being such a git for so long?
"For the record, Hermione—I am sorry."
"Oh?"
"Yes. Our history isn't ideal. We've said and done things to hurt each other, but I will willingly concede that the unkindness was definitely more on my end, than yours. Our first year, most of my anger was directed towards Potter and Weasley, and you were there by extension, but I honestly didn't acknowledge you as being anything more than another Gryffindor that annoyed me."
"When did it change?"
"That day when you accused me of buying my way onto the Slytherin Quidditch Team."
"And you called me Mudblood..."
"I did. I was angry at you making an assumption that was false..."
"Was it?"
"It was. I earned that spot, and was chuffed at being able to play Quidditch. Father, for the first time since I could remember, was proud of me. The brooms were a gift to the team, after the fact."
She didn't reply immediately, but could see how her assumption, might've exacerbated the already tenuous dynamic she and Draco shared.
"I apologize for that, Draco."
"And for the punch third year?" He smirked in challenge and she giggled softly, but shook her head in the negative.
"You deserved that."
"Fair enough."
"You wished me dead?"
"I did."
"Did you mean it?"
"Yes, at the time. However, I had a crisis of conscience later that same school year."
"What do you mean?"
His lips quirked slyly, and then he offered, "Didn't you ever wonder just how that piece of paper just happened to find it's way into your school bag?"
Hermione's eyes widened in shock, as she sputtered out inelegantly, "That was you?"
"Got it in one."
"But why?"
He shrugged and admitted lowly, "I honestly don't know. I can't give you an answer that would make any sense to you. I tried to warn you at the World Cup too, granted...I handled it rather poorly..."
"That's an understatement."
"My past exploits have done little to recommend me to you."
"This is true, however Harry did point out to me that you're not evil, Draco. A bully, yes. Unkind, sure...but you do love your parents, and they—you. Astoria obviously cares for you, and vice versa, so there must be some redeeming qualities within your personality that I'm not privy to."
He just stared at her, as if he was trying to figure out the most complex puzzle he'd ever seen.
"How are we going to do this?" He inquired finally.
"What do you mean?"
"You, me, Potter? It's clear that for some unknown, inexplicable reason, we're connected. I know you've always hated Divination, but even you have to admit that there are some things that just can't be explained away by logic, or a book?"
"I will concede that," she sighed with reluctance, and then looked over at the fountain, taking in the majesty of the sculpture before she asked softly, "Would you be willing to try something with me?"
"What?" His voice held a tinge of skepticism, and frankly she couldn't blame him in the least.
"I'd like to bring Harry out here, if that's alright. Since we have the Elder Wand, I would like to test a theory?"
Draco just considered her for several minutes, before he called out, "Bibi?"
The same elf appeared, staring up at Draco with large blue eyes.
"Yes, Master?"
"Can you bring Mr. Potter here?"
"Of course, Master!"
Two soft pops later, and Harry was standing before them, a wary expression on his face.
"He's still in once piece." Harry deadpanned, and Draco scoffed, while she just shook her head playfully at her best friend.
"Harry, behave."
"Fine." He glanced around, taking in the scenery and said evenly, "Didn't think I'd ever be back here again."
Draco stiffened and she sighed, "I don't think any of us could've foreseen this happening, yet here we are."
"Couldn't have said it better myself." Draco snarked out, and watched as Potter leveled those green eyes at him in warning.
"Harry, sit down, please."
Draco watched as the Chosen One, moved over and sat down on the other side of Hermione, then he immediately hunched over, placing his forearms on his thighs and asked, "What are we discussing?"
"The Elder Wand, Harry."
"Ah." He took the wand out of his robes and held it carefully, his expression now pained, "I never did thank you, Malfoy—for not identifying me that day."
"For all the good it did." Draco replied, his steely gaze averted.
"If you hadn't lied, we would've never had the time to escape."
"Perhaps," Draco offered, before he asked, "Dobby was always a different kind of elf, but I'm glad he was able to get you to safety."
"He was a good, loyal elf."
"Was?" Draco's voice cracked, and both Harry and Hermione stiffened at the harsh glare directed at them.
"He was mortally wounded with Bellatrix's knife," Hermione admitted quietly, "and he died right after bringing us to the Order safe house."
"Shite."
"I wasn't aware you were fond of Dobby, Malfoy?" This was from Harry, and Draco's expression shifted, and it was clear he was becoming uncomfortable...but after several moments of tense silence he just shook his head.
"Dobby was my Grandfather's elf, and Abraxas wasn't exactly known for being kind to anyone or anything he saw as lesser than. When he died the summer before my second year from Dragon Pox, Dobby became my Father's elf. The dynamic between my Father and Grandfather wasn't what anyone would ever call affectionate, but my Father never questioned my Grandfather when a task was required of him."
"Sounds like that's a trait that runs in your family." Harry piped up, earning a heated scowl, but to Draco's credit, he refused to rise to the bait.
Hermione however, just stared at Draco in pained comprehension, asking, "It was your Grandfather who wanted the Chamber of Secrets opened, wasn't it?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I'd come in second to a supposed Muggleborn witch, and that was entirely unacceptable to both my Grandfather and Father. The diary, belonged to my Grandfather."
"It was a Horcrux, and it was Voldemort's." Harry admitted, and Draco's breath hitched and when he turned to Hermione, she nodded in confirmation.
"I don't think my Father knew that."
"And your Grandfather?"
"It's highly likely he probably suspected something."
"Lovely." Hermione scoffed.
"No, he wasn't. He was a right bastard."
Harry chuckled, while Hermione just stared at Draco in shock.
"Did you just call your grandfather..."
"Yes," Draco replied swiftly, a slight smirk forming on his aristocratic features, "as much as my Father can be rather difficult on a good day, he's nothing compared to the horror that my Grandfather was."
"Lovely family you have there, Malfoy." Harry deadpanned again, and Draco's gaze narrowed in warning before he bit out caustically, "You're one to talk, Potter. From what I'd heard back at Hogwarts, your Muggle relatives were nothing short of ghastly."
Harry scowled, but didn't refute the assertion, and Hermione sighed.
"You two—really? Are we going to spend the entire night scoring who had the more horrific childhood?"
"I'm not sure Malfoy's counts, as he was always going on and on at school about how rich he was, and how big his home was..."
"All true," Draco bit back, waving back towards his ancestral home, "in case you've missed it."
"No, Malfoy—that's just the point," Harry replied waspishly, "no one missed your preening and gloating back at Hogwarts, nor your hateful commentary about anyone you saw as lesser than, including my best friend!"
"Weasley?" Draco smirked in challenge, "We all know there's not much to compare there."
"Gods!" Hermione stood up and pointed at both of them in anger, "You both need to stop it! This snark isn't going to fix the issue at hand!"
Both wizard's looked away, Harry sheepishly, and Draco in irritation.
"Sorry, Hermione." Harry offered lowly, while Malfoy scoffed, mumbling 'suck up' under his breath.
Which earned him a wandless stinging jinx from his intended.
"Bloody hell, witch!" Draco stood up and rubbed his left arm with his right hand, his grey eyes smoldering like storm clouds, "That was uncalled for!"
"Really not," she challenged back, "are you both done?"
The murmuring of words, she couldn't quite make out, let her know that for at least this moment, her two wizard's were likely done acting like...
She paused, and frowned at that thought...
Her wizards?
Was this really the reality she was now handed?
Her gaze shuffling between Harry and Malfoy, she couldn't help but sigh inwardly.
How in the world would she ever be able to play peacemaker between these two?
She sat back down with a soft groan, "Can we just please, move this along?" She pleaded, "We came here for a specific reason, and I don't know about either one of you, but maybe it might be a good idea to test our theory?"
Draco sat down too, followed by Harry, who nodded reluctantly, but wisely didn't offer any more commentary.
Harry gazed down at his right hand, that still held the Elder Wand and sighed, asking, "Should we test it?"
Hermione nodded, and one look at Draco's expression, let her know he was resigned to whatever fate this wrought.
Lifting the wand, Harry called out, "Expecto patronum" and in an instant, his stag burst forward, bounding on the grassy knoll in front of them.
Draco observed the majestic beast with a flicker of envy behind his steely gaze. He had never even attempted to cast the Patronus charm, for obvious reasons.
Harry waved his wand, and his patronus faded away, before he handed the Elder Wand over to Hermione.
When she reached for it, she gasped as the power shot through her hand almost as strong as her own Vinewood wand had done, that day in Ollivander's all those years ago. She closed her eyes and silently called forth her own patronus, feeling that familiar pull within their magical core and when she opened her eyes, her otter was swirling around both Harry and Draco, and she smiled.
Harry grinned at the little mustelid, while Draco eyed it with veiled curiosity.
When Hermione waved the wand again, her patronus flittering away like smoke, she turned to Draco and handed him the Elder Wand.
His pale hand reached out for it, and the second he fully grasped onto it—a surge of Magic shot up his arm, and he gasped at how familiar the wand felt—so much like his Hawthorne wand, except more powerful.
He glanced at Hermione and she nodded, while Potter just seemed thoughtful.
"Can you cast a patronus?" She asked softly, and he shook his head in the negative.
Glancing over at Harry, he just shrugged like he wasn't sure what to do, which made Hermione sigh at her best friend.
"Harry, you taught everyone in the DA?"
Green eyes glistened for a moment, and then Harry nodded and stood up. He gestured for Malfoy to do the same, and surprisingly, the ferret did.
"Do you know the theory behind the charm?"
"Not really. I've read about it, sure, but nothing more than in passing."
Harry hummed, and then went to stand next to Malfoy, his own Holly wand out in front of him.
"You have to think about a happy memory—truly happy."
He frowned for a moment, his eyes darting over to Hermione and she nodded with encouragement.
"Do you have one?" Harry asked, and Draco nodded in return, "Good, now let that memory fill you up, and when you're ready, brandish you want like so, and say the words, expecto patronum."
"Got it."
Harry stepped back and watched as Malfoy closed his eyes, clearing thinking about whatever memory he'd chosen, and when grey eyes opened, the spell fell from his lips effortlessly...
"Expecto Patronum."
What no one was expecting, not even Draco—was the burst of power and light that fell from the Elder wand, as a full corporeal patronus burst forth...
Hermione gasped and her face broke out into a beaming smile, at the visage of what could only be an Antipodean Opaleye dragon, fluttering over in front of her.
Harry was shocked...
He knew Malfoy was powerful, but even he was surprised with how easily the spell had come.
Draco however, was smiling widely, a pleased expression on normally stoic features as he watched his namesake patronus flying over in front of Hermione, her own countenance amazed.
"It's beautiful." She whispered in awe.
Draco nodded, before he waved the wand and the dragon dissipated, his expression now thoughtful.
"I don't understand," he admitted lowly, "how is it possible?"
Harry and Hermione shared a speculative look, but it was Hermione who chose to speak...
"It's clear that this bond we share, has some additional affects that require further research."
Harry chuckled, and even Draco cracked a grin and drawled, "You and your research, Hermione."
"Do you have a better idea?" She challenged hotly, and Draco chuckled at how adorable she looked when she was all agitated, like right now. He glanced over at Potter, who was trying his best not to smile...
"Is she always like this?"
"Pretty much," Harry admitted, ignoring the scoff from his best friend, "she tends to get combative when you tease her about her love of learning. Truth be told, it's probably because that happened with alarming frequency back at Hogwarts."
Draco blushed, lowering his head in actual shame at the thinly veiled rebuke, before he cleared his throat awkwardly, and offered, "Yes, well...jealousy will tend to do that."
"Jealousy?" Hermione quieted softly, and Draco shrugged, but nodded eventually.
"Hermione, it's no secret that children will tend to react in unpleasant ways when confronted with something that makes them uncomfortable, or jealous. You've even seen it within your own friendships, yes?"
"You mean Ron?" Harry piped in, and Draco nodded again.
"You might remember that back in school, you three were watched by just about everyone. In the beginning, it was more due to the fact of your noted celebrity, Potter—but as time passed, and things unfolded, most everyone knew that the true reason you'd survived year after year was due to the witch sitting right here," he pointed to Hermione, who's expression was shocked, while Harry nodded in understanding, "Granger's intellect was discussed not just amongst those at school, either. According to my Father, even within the Dark Lord's inner circle, there were those whom knew that without Hermione, you would've never survived for as long as you did."
They were all quiet for a moment, before Hermione whispered out, "Whom?"
Grey eyes settled on her, and Draco sighed, replying evenly, "I think you know."
"Dolohov."
"Yes."
"Because I survived his curse?"
"And probably because you bested him in that duel at Tottingham Court." Harry offered, earning a surprised look from Malfoy.
"She bested Dolohov?"
"Yep," Harry smirked, "and obliviated both he and Rowle afterwards."
"Shite." Draco whispered, his gaze turning back towards Hermione, who was blushing softly, and he had to admit, she looked rather fetching.
"So what now?" Harry asked, his tone more curious than irritated.
Draco handed him back the Elder Wand, which Harry took with a brief nod of thanks.
"I think my Father might be on to something." Hermione admitted softly.
"What do you mean, Hermione?" Harry queried.
"Well, what if, there's more to the Lord of the Rings than just fantastical fiction? What if, it's based in truth?"
"Hermione, come on," Harry teased, "no where in recorded history has there ever been any mention of High Elves, the Valar, or Orcs."
"Orcs?" Draco asked, intrigued.
"Explain later, mate." Harry replied and Draco nodded, purposely ignoring the mate, part of Potter's comment.
"Harry," Hermione began thoughtfully, "you're assuming that the history Tolkien wrote about was of this world."
Both wizard's gaped at her like she was utterly mad...
And she giggled...
"Seriously, what if it's true? What if somehow, the remnants of another world, or dimension found its way here?"
"How?" Draco inquired evenly, "I'm not saying it's not plausible, but how would they have gotten here, and when?"
All three of them looked at each other, and Hermione could see that both wizards were pondering the possibility, before Harry paled.
"Shite."
"What?" Hermione asked.
"End of fifth year."
Hermione's brow furrowed, and then her eyes widened in understanding.
"But, Harry—Sirius fell through the Veil and died."
"No, Hermione. Sirius was hit with the killing curse, before he went through the Veil. That's why he died. The Veil didn't take his life. What if the Veil is not what we think it is?"
"You're thinking it's a gateway?"
"Perhaps at one time it was, but now?" Harry shrugged, and Draco cleared his throat to get their attention.
"No offense, but what in Salazar's name are you two discussing?"
There was an awkward pause for several minutes, before Hermione spoke up...
"I think we should head back inside," she said at last, "I think we need to have this discussion with everyone present."
Harry nodded, and Draco sighed, but gestured for them to follow him out of the hedges and back towards the Manor. As they were walking, a sound echoed to the right, and Draco smirked when his Father's white peacocks came strutting into view.
"Are those?" Harry asked, and Draco nodded, "Yes, they're bred here on the grounds."
Harry glanced at Hermione, and her lips lifted with amusement, but wisely kept whatever it was she was thinking to herself. It was about ten minutes later they found themselves back in the library, where Pierre was conversing quietly with Narcissa, while Lucius appeared to be his usually bored self.
Narcissa caught her son's gaze, and noticed he looked a bit more like himself.
"Are you three done talking?"
"Not exactly." Draco admitted, and he could see both his parents matching looks of curiosity.
Pierre however, just appeared more amused than anything, as his daughter took her previous position with Mr. Potter now sitting next to her.
"Did we decide anything?" He asked, watching his daughter fidgeting slightly, while Harry seemed uncomfortable, and he frowned, "What is it, Angel?"
"Well," she cleared her throat softly, and then forged ahead, "we were able to determine that the Elder Wand is linked to all three of us."
Lucius sat forward with that gleam in his eyes, as he asked, "Equally?"
"It would appear so, Father." Draco interrupted with a subtle glance towards his intended, and she nodded in reply.
"Yes, Draco's correct—however, we did come to another potentially startling conclusion."
"Which is?" Pierre asked, intrigued.
"Papa, as you know back at the end of our fifth year, Harry and I broke into the Department of Mysteries, and subsequently ended up in several rooms, one of which was the Death Chamber."
"Yes," he replied, seeing Lucius flinching slightly at the reminder, and his lips curled up into a wolffish smirk, "I do believe we're all aware of what that room is, yes?"
"Quite." Lucius offered frostily, but Draco cleared his throat and inquired, "I know of it cursorily, but I'm afraid I wasn't privy to everything that happened that night, other than my Father being hauled off to Azkaban."
The words were spoken with a tinge of bitterness, and everyone could see how uncomfortable this topic was for all three of the Malfoy's.
"Not sorry." Harry bit out, earning a heated glare from the two male Malfoy's, while Narcissa sighed softly.
Hermione however, just patted Harry's knee and shook her head at him.
"We can't change the past, but we can change how we choose to let it affect whatever this is. I for one, don't plan on rehashing our unpleasant past whenever the moment presents itself. I'm rather tired of the needling and it's not going to change the present nor the future, agreed?"
She glanced at each person in the room one at a time, and was surprised to see the expression of gratitude on Draco's face, as well as the relief on Narcissa Malfoy's face.
Lucius however, just bowed his head subtly, while Harry sighed in defeat.
Pierre looked as proud as could be...
"Well said, Angel."
"I have my moments," she bantered back before pressing on, "however, we might have a larger issue at play here. In the Death Chamber, there is the Veil. I'm assuming that the researchers in the DoM have inferred that the Veil is a gateway from the land of the living to death, but what if it isn't?"
"I'm sorry, Miss Alphonse," Lucius drawled evenly, "if not, then how would that explain Sirius Black's demise?"
"He was killed before he fell through the Veil," Harry admitted lowly, and felt Hermione's hand immediately gripping his own, which he returned as he squeezed her's with affection, "so it's entirely plausible that the Veil is something else entirely."
"Which is?" Pierre asked.
"A gateway, Papa." Hermione postulated, and watched her Father's expression shift from surprised to thoughtful in a flash.
"You're thinking that the Veil, is a passageway from another world?"
"Or dimension?" She responded with eagerness, and Draco smirked at how bright Hermione's eyes glistened at the thought of learning something new. His gaze caught Potter's, and the boy wonder smirked and nodded in commiseration at the unspoken look.
"So if I'm understanding this correctly," Pierre intoned deeply, "then the Veil might've been a passageway from Arda to here?"
"Maybe? I know Tolkien stated that Arda was perhaps part of our own history, over six thousand years ago, but what if that wasn't the case?" Hermione wondered aloud, "What if, it was the history that was six thousand years old, just from another world?"
Pierre thought about this, and then his gaze narrowed as he bit out, "The blue wizard's."
Hermione nodded, but everyone else just seemed perplexed, until Draco spoke up and asked, "The Maiar had colors, right? The blue wizard's, weren't part of the story, from what you inferred, correct?"
"Correct," Pierre shook his head, "it was surmised that they'd traveled east, into the lands of Mordor, where the Dark Lord Sauron lived, but they were never heard from again."
"What if they somehow, found a way to move between worlds, or more likely, left their world and came to ours?" Hermione postulated.
"Then it's not a stretch to imagine that they might've been the first purveyors of Magic in this world, over six thousand years ago." Pierre finished, his expression now filled with something Hermione couldn't exactly define.
"Right around the time of the rise of the Egyptian Empire," Draco hummed out thoughtfully, before he asked, "what happened to those who lived in this Arda?"
"Well," Hermione cleared her throat, "Arda was also called, Middle Earth," at that piece of news, the Malfoy's eyebrows raised in shock, "and the very brief version is that there were races of High Elves, who were immortal and eventually, most of them traveled across the sea and left the world of men. The race of men, ruled the lands of Rohan, and Minas Tirith, the great white city. There were dwarves, who ruled under the earth, and mined for riches. Hobbits, were a race of small folk, who lived in the Shire. In the books, the races of Elves and Men came together to fight the Dark Lord Sauron, who eventually was defeated when his horcrux was destroyed in a place called Mount Doom. There's also mentioning of dark creatures called balrogs, goblins, orcs..."
"Goblins?" Lucius interrupted, his expression now thoughtful, "Does anyone find it a coincidence that we too have elves and goblins within the magical world? Did the elves have Magic in the story?"
"Yes some did, to an extent. Galadriel was the most noted one, and she was the ruler of one of the elvish colonies that lived in Middle Earth. Goblins in Tolkien's books were much different. If I had to guess, goblins here are more like the dwarves or hobbits in the story." Hermione admitted.
Everyone sat back at that thought.
"So, the goblin nation might be descended from either the dwarves or Hobbits of Arda?" Pierre inquired thoughtfully, "House elves, somehow, might be a remnant of the High Elves—perhaps more in spirit, than in actuality?"
"Maybe," Hermione offered, her expression contemplative, "but what does it all mean?"
"That," Pierre replied firmly, "is what we need to ascertain."