Antares flung himself at the entryway. Porridge's barrier held though. The beast gave one last roar until slowly the black pits changed to amber. Antares blinked, examining its surroundings.
Porridge had dropped her hands, and she gave a tired smile.
A clambering noise echoed from above them. Scratching of claws rattled on the stone steps as if something large descended. The noise spooked the cat, and it scrambled into the room and into Draco's arms - all two-hundred kilograms.
Draco was knocked off balance, but he grabbed the cat and attempted to calm it. Drawing his wand in the process and pointing toward the opening.
The tiger burrowed its head into Draco's chest, before turning around to see what the noise was. Draco gave a weary sigh but also a scoff of affection. "I'm glad you returned to us."
"Good it worked then," Vega's head and long neck peeked around the corner.
Draco lowered his wand.
"What worked?" Antares asked, jumping out of Draco's embrace to put on a brave front.
"The manor made use of… difficult memories, to gain control of you. But I think I've found a way to stop it, at least for now," Vega looked to Draco and then to Narcissa. The dragon quickly made its way over to her.
"I beg your pardon?" Antares asked.
Vega ignored the cat and pressed his head against Narcissa's shoulder. She reached out with a shaking hand and stroked the scales with one hand but kept her face covered with her other.
"I think the dragon went this way, looks like we can get down from here," Potter's voice echoed in the chamber.
"We are here, Potter," Draco said.
Footsteps followed, but to Draco's surprise Granger's ghost appeared first. Right from the ceiling. She looked just as surprised as he felt.
"I wasn't allowed in before, kept trying to find another way in," she then surveyed the room.
"I suspect you are now free, Granger," Draco told her with some hope. Draco looked at Jiffy.
The elf gave a nod.
Potter appeared down at the opening then, followed by Pomfrey.
The old woman looked to be in hell. Sweat dripped from her forehead and her breaths were short like she was about to pass out. She came closer to them all. Attention on Narcissa. She didn't even utter words but flicked a quick cleaning and healing spell at the woman.
That caused Narcissa to stir.
Potter quickly casted a patronus, having the stag relay the message that they had found everyone.
The nurse reached out and steadied herself upon the wall, turning to Draco.
Draco tensed, ready to rise, and cover the wall from the nurse's prying eyes, but Porridge grabbed the hem of his robes.
"Do not hide little master and be ashamed of her," the youngest elf whispered.
Ashamed of her ? Is that what it seemed like? Draco fists unclenched.
The nurse blinked with her mouth agape, her gaze going between the words on the wall and the bloody towel on the floor. She took one step back in surprise and then her gaze went to Draco.
"What is it with you, Slytherins?" She gasped, not really asking the question. "Always in desperate need of assistance, always on a precipice." A sorrowful smile came from her lips. "The world isn't out to get you, you know. Some of us are here to help."
He wanted to sneer, but as she had just healed his mother, he hid his annoyance. She reached for him, then hesitated. "Your arm," she demanded from him, "I won't hear `I'll heal it myself at my own convenience, I don't need the help of a school matron`." The way she spoke the phrase, and the enunciation - it had come from Severus.
He extended it out to her, and she healed him.
His mother's gaze caught him over the nurse's shoulder. She sneered at the nurse, her greatest and most wonderful Malfoy sneer. Her eyes were full of annoyance. She pulled herself together. Back uncurling, knees unbending until she grasped the wall and Vega and then stood. Her back then straightened more than the board they'd taped to his back for etiquette lessons. She held herself high. Proud. No sign that she'd just had a breakdown except the redness of her eyes.
Draco ended up covering a relieved laugh with a cough. Which gave him several more spells to his chest to check for issues.
They ended up making their way back to the ritual room, to find the others. At a pace slow enough to accommodate the mediwitch. Potter again, sending a patronus. At the last corridor, Potter quickened his step. It was then, Draco realized, Potter still did not know.
The second they were in the room Potter turned to Granger. "Come see your body, you're still alive Hermione," he raced over to the coffin, motioning Granger over.
But Granger did not float to him, she levitated only slightly higher, such that she could see her body. She did not move closer to it.
"Harry," her tone said it all, Draco didn't need to see her face.
The light in Potter's green eyes began to dim, "'Mione come look."
The ghost gave a sigh but came as beaconed. She didn't look at the empty bodies, instead she looked at Potter. She reached out a hand and touched the man on the shoulder. "I'm dead, Harry. I can't come back."
Reality struck then. Through the blur of the ghost, Draco could see the expression of the man fall. "I… I just thought." He waved at the coffin, but then dropped his hand.
"It's alright, Harry. It will be alright." The ghost said, attempting to comfort him.
The man took a deep breath. He shook his head to clear it. "But you're free now. You'll come to live with me and Ginny – right, 'Mione?"
The ghost shook her head. "I've plans, Harry." She must have seen something Draco couldn't for she quickly added, "But I would like to meet your children."
As Harry and Hermione spoke, Narcissa began to creep towards the coffin.
Draco moved between his mother and the rest of the room. He had to make sure she got no closer.
His mother reached out and grabbed his hands.
"I cannot accommodate you here," Draco told her. His heart hammered in his chest, sickness was spreading as her hands gripped his with a tightness he'd never felt from her. He pulled his hands free as gently as he could. "I am barely keeping myself together. I can't…" keep you together too. He left it unsaid. "I'm not well enough to uphold my duty to you." He couldn't pretend to be well before her.
Her lips twitched like she was choking on words. Her hands twisted. She raised them to her face as if to gnaw upon her nails, but as she started to nibble, she froze. Her hands dropped; her eyes glossed in occlumency but then that too faded. Her hands formed into fists. She nodded her head. "I understand. I –" she choked on the words. "I am sorry."
She looked over his shoulder then, at the willow and what rested beneath. "May I… Please see her?" Her lip trembled and her voice grew even quieter. "Please do not defend me from this."
Draco moved aside and allowed her to continue forward. He followed several paces behind.
Greg and McGonagall were sharing a flask of all things. The two of them hunkered at the base of the willow, facing away from the coffin.
Severus and Filius were sitting at the edge of the pond staring into the pool of fish. Two of the koi had floated to the surface dead but the rest had survived the magic and swirled near the edge disturbing the reflections of the humans.
When Narcissa got close enough, Severus rose and offered his hand. They stood on the other side of the coffin from Potter and the ghost.
Potter and the ghost grew quiet.
Narcissa leaned in, kissing the top of the covered bundle, and then, to Draco's surprise, she kissed the forehead of Granger's body too. Her eyes rose to meet the ghosts. "Thank you, Ms. Granger."
The ghost gave a solemn nod.
"Let us get them settled into their new coffins," Flitwick suggested.
It was a quiet affair. His mother led the procession, without the aid of Severus. Greg levitated the coffin behind her, and Draco walked beside Greg. The rest of them came after.
When the door opened, Draco was surprised to see that the portrait had been uncovered – the wall hanging was gone.
Draco laid the small, wrapped body in the tiny casket. His mother turned to the embrace of Severus.
Harry levitated Hermione into hers, but he did not look at the body – only the ghost that hovered nearby.
When the coffins shut, all seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, even the manor itself. Draco felt the wards relax against his power. He was once again in control. The manor slept once more.
"Where would you like to be buried, Hermione?" Potter asked, breaking the silence. "There is a memorial near Hogwarts, did you want to be on the grounds?"
The ghost lips twitched just a hair, "Here." She declared. "I want to be buried in the catacombs here." She turned to Draco, "Near Aquarius."
His mother's eyes looked to almost come out of her head.
Draco dipped his head, "Very well." The first none-pureblood to ever be buried here. For the first time Draco was a bit excited to write a letter to Lucius. "Porridge, Jiffy." Draco summoned. "Please," he motioned at the coffins.
Both elves gave a nod, and together snapped their fingers.
After that, it still took some time to get people to leave the manor, they were a bunch of busybodies without purpose.
Draco never did hear what Narcissa had whispered in Harry's ear, but the man had dipped his head in consent and was the first to set off. "Ginny and I would be glad to have your company as you transition back into society," Harry offered his arm. "Let's get you set up in the spare bedroom before night falls."
The ghost followed the two and came back just to tell the lot of them about the success before disappearing again.
Pomfrey side-alonged with McGonagall back to Hogwarts.
Filius lingered, inspecting one of the dragons on the stairwell as Greg went to floo call his wife.
Severus looked Draco over, "May I call on you next week, a game of chess perhaps?"
An olive branch.
"Are you sure you won't be angry when I beat you at it?" Draco asked back.
Severus' lips tilted up, just a fraction. "I am unlikely to succumb if you cannot even win against an animated being." He dipped his head, "Till then."
Then, just Filius remained with him in the ballroom. Draco made his way to the staircase and watched as the professor gave one last poke and pulled his spectacles closer to his eyes. He looked up at Draco.
"I confess, I do have an ulterior motive for staying behind," the man said. "I hope you don't mind me overstaying my welcome for it, but I wished to speak with you alone."
Draco's eyes narrowed. His Slytherin instincts rang in his ears about deceit and to tread carefully. "Not at all."
Filius' expression softened. "I'll be direct." He motioned to the staircase. "You are a brilliant young man, Draco. You'd the best grades of the last two decades. I wager, you applied to masteries and didn't get them because of the past." Filius watched Draco's face. The man's eyes did not drop to his arm like many would have.
Draco only nodded his head in acknowledgement, where was the man going with this?
"While I do not know which masteries you applied for, I would like to offer you a position as my apprentice and charms mastery. I still remember your badges during the tournament. I had a wonderful time dismantling those I confiscated. Not to mention, you're now a skillsman in your family's magic. If there is a way to get you a mastery recognition for that, I shall do my utmost best to get that for you." The man then gave a pause. "I will, of course, not ask you for your family's trade secrets in return for this apprenticeship."
Draco's back stiffened and eyes widened. He had never imagined this was why Filius wished to speak with him. His heart quickened. He'd wanted it so long ago, to hold a mastery. He'd forgotten, long forgotten until it was now offered again before him.
"I realize I could have waited, but I wished to be the first to ask. I suspect Severus will make some-sort of offer for potions. You may think upon my offer for as long as you wish. I do, however, have one stipulation."
Draco's heart almost stopped, and his eyes narrowed once again. Of course, there was a catch. What sort of 'stipulation' could Filius have?
"I would like you to seek medical help from a professional who has experience with the imperious and magical damage. Part of my job is teaching children, if you are to be working side by side with me, I want you at the top of your game. Children are quick - a potion that clouds the mind does not sound like a viable long-term solution to your problem. If you get a second opinion, I will not take issue. But as it stands…" Filius then paused, and winced, "I realize that being surrounded by children may also not be an ideal mastery - especially with your current condition… But, do think upon it. Years from now, should you desire to pursue such a degree — I will have no qualms about you accepting then."
Draco was at a loss for words, "Thank you for the generous offer, I will think upon it, Professor Flitwick."
"Good, and please, you may call me Filius," Filius said with a smile. He then became a bit flustered, his cheeks reddened, and he spoke faster, "I would like to drop by, with warning, from time to time. I hope you will permit me to meet with the dragons and Antares. And perhaps I could look at any of your new creations, such wonderful creatures."
"Of course," Draco gave a laugh, "I'd be happy to see you."
"Thank you. I shall be off then," Filius, far too flustered to continue apparated out of sight.
Greg gave a cough, and Draco looked up the staircase to see Greg slouching against the top railing to look down. The man must have seen the whole thing. There was a smile, just a small one, upon his lips.
Draco raised a brow. "What? Going to demand I take the offer?"
Greg then broke into a full smile. "No, don't need to. You'll take it."
Draco sneered, "And what makes you say that?"
Greg started down the staircase. "It won't be today. Maybe not even in the next five years. But you'll take him up on his offer. The best duelist of his time, a revered charms master, inventor… There is good weight behind his name."
"I don't need someone like that to wipe my slate clean." Draco said, his fingers twitching in irritation. "I don't want to return to society."
Greg laughed. "You're right, you don't need it. You want the degree though. I saw it. It was all over your face when he made the offer."
Draco gave a snort. "Here I thought you knew me better than anyone."
"I do." Greg said. He then motioned up the stairway he'd just come down from. "Let's get you a potion and to my home."
Draco blinked in surprise. "Your home?" Draco hadn't slept over since he was a schoolboy.
"I've already told Anna you're staying the night. We need to wait out the residual magic, make sure the astral plane business doesn't suck you in to die. The rest of them seemed to have forgotten, but I haven't. Also, Madeline is bouncing off the walls with the news and is making your bed herself. You'd better bring Antares, or you'll get no peace."
"I'm not going to impose upon your hospitality."
Greg then countered, "And I'm not going to tell Madeline you've declined the offer. It'd break her heart for a week."
Draco gave a sigh, his eyes roaming the ballroom looking for an excuse. "I need to stay for–"
"No, you don't. Not anymore, she's free. We've seen to it. Let her make her choice on her own. It's hers to decide."
Draco blinked and met Greg's steady gaze. Draco sighed, relenting. "Just tonight."
Greg gave a nod. "Very well, just tonight. Also, those scars you'll need to explain to Anna. I'm not going to do it for you."
"I shall explain them to her in person," Vega told Greg, "If you will allow me to."
Anna huffled and puffled her way into getting the full story. There was something about the way she didn't accept the scars at face value, even with Vega confessing to her. The redness of his eyes from crying, and the exhaustion of both he and her husband. Draco had choked a bit at first, staring into the fire with whiskey in a glass, long after Madeline fell asleep on the tiger before the hearth. However, Porridge's words haunted him. What was he ashamed of? The circumstances, and himself. But no, not her. Never her.
"I'd had a daughter," he'd told Anna, eyes not leaving the fire. "During the war… I was too scared to get her out of the manor, and my inaction led to her death. When I returned to Hogwarts, Nagini killed her." Not even the burn of whiskey could purify the words from his lips, but he wasn't ashamed of her. Not the girl in the white dress in the ballroom. Not the babe who laughed at butterflies.
In the end, he spent five nights with the Goyles.
Madeline enjoyed every moment of Antares company, now that he'd learned so many new stories from the ghost – he and Madeline went on quests of old. With Roxin perched upon Antares head and declared 'King Arthur', Madeline riding the cat pretending to be Merlin, Antares described and led them on quests for many artifacts throughout the house. A spoon that could turn anyone to stone. A carrot that could turn things to gold. A cookie jar that never ran out. Most quests ended in the kitchen. Madeline loved food.
Anna monitored Draco as if he were dying like one of her patients. Greg barely allowed him to use the loo by himself. He'd walk out of the bathroom, Vega and Greg would both be there conversing about Wizengamot politics of all things.
The second Greg mentioned Flitwick's offer, Anna jumped into the floo and made him an appointment that same day with the 'greatest curse expert to ever work at St. Mungos'.
"No," Draco said. "I'm not going anywhere."
Anna smiled, "Oh, don't you worry. They are coming here."
He tried again to decline, "They are likely some untrustworthy do-gooder Gryffindor. All Gryffindors are vindictive."
"I trust them with my life. And they are Slytherin – if that helps."
"Double no, Anna. An evil doing Slytherin is worse. I handed my wand to Potter at the end, they'll exact revenge. You may be able to force Greg to do whatever you please, but I am not some weak willed simp."
He ended up being weak willed. And the healer ended up being Zabini of all people. He'd changed too. Grown older. Not even in his thirties but his hair was already greying, and wrinkles lined his face. It hadn't been a complete disaster. Awkward as hell. But the terse information he allowed Zabini to get from him, got him access to an ongoing potions trial and a follow up appointment.
But eventually he did go back to the manor. Before dinner because he knew if he stayed Anna wouldn't let him go (and more importantly would tiger-nap Antares.) The manor seemed even quieter than before compared to the Goyle household. The rooms echoed with an empty hollowness, the footsteps repeating off the walls. Everything was clean and perfect, but so very empty.
Draco ate in the kitchens that night, just for the noise. There was something different in the air. The fire seemed a bit higher than typical, the smell better. Porridge welcomed him with a smile and bow. Jiffy a bow. Vega laid at his feet.
Of all things, Porridge shoved a cutting board and knife at him with an onion.
"Porridge will teach the master to cook stew tonight."
Jiffy opened his mouth, but Porridge cut him off. "Porridge is the matriarch of the Malfoy manor. And Porridge will teach master to cook."
Draco could only grin at the twisted look of annoyance on Jiffy's face. The elf looked older. And like he regretted passing off the reins to the spunky pink robed chef.
Porridge didn't let any silence last long. And for that, Draco was grateful. Even if she critiqued the way he cut onions in a way that put Snape to shame.
After dinner, he made his way to the library. Antares had settled upon the couch reading. Draco scanned the room for the ghost, but it was just the cat. Vega joined Antares, demanding the cat teach him.
When he left the library, he followed the lit candles until he reached his room. His willow room. The tree stood still. There were no red flowers, no unnatural wind. Everything quiet. He made his way to the base of the tree, rested his back against the trunk. He waited, and waited, but nothing stirred.
Vega and Antares eventually came to him. Antares curled at his feet and Vega rested a head upon his shoulder. He fell asleep, his head drooping upon Vega. The forest lay before him, and he followed the sound of a girl's laughter.
He stirred gradually, but he tried to cling to the dream. He could taste dew in his mouth, smell pine in his nose. As he tried to recall it, it slipped further and further from him, until only the end of it remained. He dreamed of his daughter, and who else had been there? There'd been another voice. His daughter had said something... 'It's time.'
He hadn't panicked at the words, in fact, he felt comfortable - at peace - but what had they meant?
"You've covered Vega in drool."
Granger's voice cut his concentration. He jolted awake, and then back, when he saw how close Granger was. She sat on the grass next to him. Her hair, less floaty; silvery blood, less… drippy.
He wiped at his mouth. Then at the dragon's head.
With a yawn, he spoke, "What brings you back, Granger?"
Her chin jutted out, "I had to see about the forest."
"The forest?"
"Yes, I came back to ask you to sleep under the tree so I could see the forest. Turns out, you were sleeping under the tree, so I didn't have to ask you." Her hair began to spring up, the more excited she became.
"And what did you see?"
She smiled and then declared, "All of the trees glowed during the witching hour. You and Antares, you were there glowing. Aquarius was there too. We all played a game in the woods. The trees spoke to you, or at least that is what you said."
Draco wiped at his eyes and sat up straighter. "She's alright."
"Aha, you don't remember. I thought not, when I spoke to that horrid painting - he said it was a type of soul magic, the good kind. I suspect that there is full separation from the body, thus your mind is unable to utilize your nervous system to retain the memory. Well, at least on a conscious level, I think maybe your subconscious-"
Granger and her useless details. "Is she alright?" Draco asked again.
Granger gave a smile, "She was doing well. She enjoyed the woods."
Draco gave a sigh of relief, but then froze at the past tense. "Was? Where is she?"
Granger gave a grimace, as if she'd hoped he wouldn't ask. She spoke more slowly, and her hair drooped back down. "She's gone."
Draco's chest tightened.
"She's moved on, past the astral plane. She stayed here after she was freed… for you. To say goodbye." The ghost gave a thin smile. "If it's any consolation, Solstice went with her. Seems like your beings can traverse more than two planes of existence. Though, it doesn't sound like they can come back from… the next." The ghost fidgeted then.
"Are you ok, Granger?" Draco asked, watching as the ghost seemed to be stopping herself from crying by blinking rapidly.
"What if the next plane doesn't have books?"
That is what she was worried about? The incredulousness of it struck him and he laughed.
"It's not funny," she smacked through him on the shoulder - chilling his muscles. "What if there really aren't any books, and there is no more learning? How terrible would that be."
Granger's personal hell may lay before her. He should have pity, but instead he could only laugh more. It was as if a heavy load had been relieved from his chest, "Perhaps you won't need to learn anything because you'll know everything."
Her jaw hung for a moment, "Without putting in any effort, the absurdity!"
She lingered, hours, days, weeks till Granger became Hermione. It became obvious she had lied to Potter about having a plan now that she was free.
Hermione never asked to stay at Malfoy manor.
Draco never asked her to leave.
So, every morning he'd rise for her to tell him what he did the night before. They'd walk in the woods in the morning. She'd relay whatever knowledge she deemed he needed to know about the whispering of the trees.
A/N Thank you for reading till the end! If you have any feedback I'd love to hear it. Z.z
