Chapter Three

Breaking Promises

It was Friday and Hermione was on the terrace of one of the Muggle coffee shops near the Ministry of Magic. She liked to have a cup of tea after work while reading one of her favourite books, but she couldn't be there too long or Harry got worried.

Her parents, Peter and Jane Granger, did not live in England. Months before, they had been visited by two healers and an Obliviator at their home in Australia and, between the three of them, they managed to bring back all the memories that Hermione had erased.

They didn't think twice about getting on a plane to go in search of their daughter. They hugged her as soon as they saw her at the airport, assuring her that they understood why she had done it and that they were not angry.

But they made her promise never to do anything like that again.

The Death Eaters had vandalised the Grangers' old house, so they stayed with her and Harry for a few days until they returned to Australia. They had a good job there, and Hermione was able to visit them often by getting a portkey.

Sometimes, when she went to Australia to visit, more than one tear would fall as she saw her mother sitting on the sofa with her head resting on her father's shoulder.

She had thought she would never see anything like that again and that they would never forgive her if they knew what she had done.

Hermione took a sip of tea as she turned the page of the book she had resting on the table. She was determined to pass a law that would help half-humans as a tribute to her old teacher, Remus Lupin. Werewolves and other half-human creatures deserved to have the same rights as she did, as did house elves.

A small smile appeared on her face as she remembered what Harry had told her two weeks earlier.

The house elves from Malfoy Manor were now free, and it would gradually become the same all over the country.

She rested her chin on one of her hands, sighing deeply. The thought of the Manor brought back memories of Draco Malfoy, who had been locked up in Azkaban for a month now. Ron left after the chaos of his trial, shrugging and saying that it was Malfoy's own fault, but Hermione and Harry stayed to speak to Minister Kingsley, telling him that they knew Malfoy was innocent in the case of the death of their former Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.

The Minister replied that there was nothing he could do. If Malfoy had pleaded guilty and refused to accept the testimony of any witnesses, he would suffer the maximum sentence.

But there was something that didn't fit.

Hermione had noticed that Malfoy was tense when the three of them had entered the room, and he seemed to want to get out of there as soon as possible. He didn't look sick, he looked... scared, and very nervous. And when he came back, he was as serious as ever and didn't even flinch at the guilty plea.

Something was missing. It hadn't been normal.

Hermione couldn't forget how Narcissa cried when the guards took her son away in handcuffs either. Harry had been visiting her and he said she was a little more cheerful, thinking of a way to ask for a review of Malfoy's trial.

Though the woman needed a good reason if she wanted the Wizengamot court to agree. It wasn't an easy task.

Hermione chewed on her bottom lip and shook her head, trying to push those thoughts away. The magical creatures needed her more than ever and she couldn't waste her time rambling on about the trial of a former enemy.

That was what she considered Draco Malfoy now. He didn't identify them when they were trapped in his family's Manor and with just one word from him they would have been handed over to Voldemort, and Hermione, Harry and Ron would have died.

But he said he didn't recognise them, that he couldn't be sure.

Bullshit.

Malfoy knew perfectly well that it was the three of them but he didn't want them to die. And, thanks to that, they managed to escape with Dobby's help.

Hermione sighed again, raising her cup to her lips and looking up. She almost choked on it when she saw a black owl flying towards her at the bottom of the street.

She pulled some Pounds out of her purse as quickly as she could, setting them on the table, and drank the last of her tea in one gulp.

Clutching her book she walked away down the street towards a small alley not far away. She heard the owl fly overhead, hooting irritably.

"Not here! There!" Hermione whispered, looking around nervously and pointing down the alley.

The owl obeyed and flew forward.

Hermione snorted as she followed it. They should train the birds not to deliver their messages in public places in broad daylight. Any Muggle would freak out if they saw her taking a piece of parchment from that owl's leg.

As soon as she untied it, the owl pecked one of her fingers gently and Hermione recognised her.

"Shadow! What are you doing here? Does Harry need my answer now or can it wait until I get home?"

The owl shook her head, taking flight again. She was Harry's new pet and she had a personality much like Hedwig.

Hermione smiled, unrolling the parchment as she watched the owl fly away. But her smile faded as she read the message.

Hermione, I need you. Come as soon as possible, we need to talk about something important.
 Harry

Was it something serious? It probably was, otherwise Harry would have waited until later to tell her.

Hermione frowned and walked quickly towards the nearest apparition point. She needed to get back to the house she shared with her best friend.

Harry sent Hermione an owl as soon as he arrived at his house, number 12 Grimmauld Place. With Hermione and Ginny's help, he was slowly getting rid of the dark objects and tidying up the rooms, and it was starting to feel like a home.

He made his way up to the first floor, entering the Black family library. Hermione had read quite a few books when they had been living there while searching for the Horcruxes, though he had hardly paid any attention to that room.

Harry wandered among the dusty shelves, looking for any books that talked about magical creatures. After twenty minutes one of them caught his eye.

"Animals or Humans, by Lyra Black," he read aloud, staring at the dark green cover of the book.

Would that woman be an ancestor of Sirius? He needed to go up to the third floor and check on the tapestry of the Black family tree.

He heard the crack of aan pparition in the distance. Someone had just apparated into his house and it wasn't long until he heard a very familiar female voice.

"Harry?"

"Up here!"

The wooden steps creaked and footsteps sounded down the corridor. Soon after, Hermione came through the door and frowned as she saw Harry sitting on a black sofa, a book on his lap and deep in his reading.

"What are you doing in the library?"

"I'm searching for some information," Harry mumbled, turning the pages of the book quickly.

Hermione came up beside him, looking carefully at what he was doing, and wrinkled her nose as she saw him pause at the chapter about Veelas.

"Why are you interested in Veelas all of a sudden, Harry?"

He ignored her question.

"What do you know about them?"

Hermione sighed, sitting down next to him.

"Not much yet, really. I know they're usually female but sometimes there are males. They can mix with humans, in fact, I think there are several Veela-human pairs in the Ministry's Registry, though I haven't been given access yet and haven't been able to read it."

"Do you know anything about what happens when they find a mate?" Harry asked, not looking up from the book.

"Was this rhat urgent, Harry? You scared me with that message, I thought there was something wrong with you," she protested, folding her arms and snorting.

"Please," Harry asked quietly, looking at her intently.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Fine... I think females can be with as many mates as they want in their lifetime, but males only have one. If they find her she'll be their mate forever and they won't be able to live without her."

Harry put a hand to his temple, exhaling slowly.

"Exactly, though the book explains it in more detail. Once they've seen her, male Veelas will die if their mate rejects them or if they spend too much time away from her."

"It makes sense, they are very faithful creatures. I'm looking forward to working with one of them and helping them," Hermione admitted with a nod.

Harry stared at her without saying anything until she frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"Did you know that there are humans with Veela blood in them, Hermione?"

"Yes, of course. I told you they can breed with humans and have children."

"Ugh, don't say that word," Harry demanded, grimacing.

"Why are you asking me all these questions, Harry? What's wrong?" she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I've met someone who is part Veela. He has a Veela ancestor and his whole family has Veela blood."

Hermione's eyes widened, shining with excitement.

"His family is probably on the Registry. Half-humans have problems too, the current law doesn't consider them human and sometimes they try to take their wands. I'd love to interview him, his opinion would be very helpful. He could even be my witness when I present the bill to the Wizengamot…"

"Hang on, Hermione. Wait a moment," Harry asked, taking off his glasses and closing the book.

He leaned back against the sofa and sighed, wiping his glasses on the edge of his shirt. He put them back on and, glancing at Hermione, saw that she had a smirk on her face.

"You're a wizard, Harry. There's a spell for that."

"I always forget. It's a habit," he replied, shrugging with a smile on his face.

They both laughed knowing that those things happened to both of them. They had grown up with Muggles, knowing nothing of the wizarding world until they got their Hogwarts letters, and they didn't always remember that they had a wand in their pockets.

"You know this person too," Harry whispered, turning serious again.

"Tell me who he is."

"It's someone who had a trial recently where he pleaded guilty when he's probably not. I went to visit him with his mother today."

Hermione put a hand to her lips in surprise.

"Malfoy? Is Malfoy half Veela?"

"I don't know if he's half Veela or a quarter Veela... I have no idea. But he has Veela blood, that's for sure."

"And why are you so worried about it? There's nothing I can do for him until he gets out of Azkaban. At least the new law will be passed by then."

"He's dying, Hermione. I haven't told you the whole truth... Narcissa's having a terrible time and Malfoy doesn't accept our help."

"He's dying?" Hermione repeated, looking down at the book in Harry's lap. Three seconds later, she gasped in understanding. "Has he found his mate? They can't deny him the right to see her, even if he's locked up in there."

"Malfoy doesn't want to see her, he doesn't want her to know. He thinks he doesn't deserve anyone's help and that it's better this way."

"But that's horrible, Harry! I'm sure that, if she appealed, the Wizengamot would accept a review of his sentence. We could go and talk to her if you know who she is."

"That's what I'm doing," Harry muttered, pursing his lips.

Hermione was silent for a full minute, her face gradually losing colour.

"Are you joking?"

"No, Hermione. I wouldn't joke about something like that," Harry said, shaking his head.

"Me? But… How is that possible? No... it can't be."

"I thought the same thing when I heard it."

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"Yes. Narcissa told me and Malfoy confirmed it."

Hermione nodded, her heart beating fast. Was she Draco Malfoy's destined mate? It seemed like a joke of fate.

But she had to do something. She couldn't just leave him there to die alone and scared.

She stood up from the sofa, clenching her fists decisively.

"Let's go, Harry."

"Where are we going?" he asked, standing up and following her.

"To talk to Kingsley. And bring that book, I want to read it properly," she said before leaving the library.

Harry grabbed the book from Lyra Black and ran after his friend down the stairs.

"What are you going to tell him? Malfoy's already been convicted, Hermione."

"It wasn't a fair trial and everyone knows it. Besides, I don't think anyone would dare contradict the smartest witch of her age," she commented, smiling arrogantly.

Harry returned the smile, letting out a soft chuckle.

"Are you going to use your influence? I'm sick of hearing you say you never would."

"I'll have to make an exception, just this once," Hermione grunted, looking around for something in the living room. "Where did you put the Floo powder? We have to hurry, Harry. Malfoy could die at any moment."

"Here."

Harry pulled a small bag out of the wooden box on a piece of furniture and she rolled her eyes at him.

"You should keep it next to the fireplace for when there's an emergency like right now."

"You're wasting time nagging me, Hermione."

"Shit, you're right," she groaned, grabbing a handful of the dark powder and throwing it on the fireplace.

Emerald-green flames immediately appeared and Hermione stepped into them.

"Ministry of Magic!"

As soon as she was gone Harry followed her, doing the same.

Kingsley was going to love that visit.

Draco was lying on the thin mattress in his cell, staring at the ceiling as he tried to ignore the screams and laughter of the prisoners in the rooms closest to him.

Many of the inmates lost their minds as years went on and Draco was mentally grateful that he wasn't going to be there long enough for suffering the same fate.

He was already starting to talk to himself. Every night he had nightmares where he relived the morning he saw his aunt torturing Hermione Granger, and all the times the Dark Lord himself used the Cruciatus Curse on him.

Draco always woke up sweating and panting, his heart pounding in his chest.

He hoped his father wasn't having as hard a time as he was. At least, he had the consolation that Lucius already knew what it was like to be in Azkaban.

He sighed and sat up, staring out the small slit in the stone wall that showed the Atlantic Ocean. His cell had a window, if you could call it that, and some days he was lucky enough to be able to feel the breeze on his face or raindrops if he pressed his hand against it.

It had been two days since he had been able to stand up on his own and Draco knew he would soon be dead, but he didn't care. It was for the best, he didn't want to have to live like that and suffer the rejection of his mate. Draco had read that it was much worse than death.

He continued to watch the sea until he saw a black hooded figure very close, flying through the mist. A chill ran through his body and Draco held his breath, moving as far away from the window as he could and falling to the ground.

Bloody Dementors. If only he knew how to cast a Patronus and could force them away from his cell.

Though it was stupid to think about that when he didn't have his wand.

He heard a thump and turned, startled. Behind the bars stood one of the guards, glaring at him.

"Get up, Malfoy. You have to come with me."

"Why?"

He tried to get to his feet with no luck. The guard clicked his tongue and waved his wand, opening the door to his cell. He stepped inside and grabbed one of his arms. Once Draco managed to stand up, the guard didn't let go and forced him to walk beside him.

"We're going for a walk today."

"What?" Draco asked in confusion.

No one went for walks in Azkaban. Prisoners were only allowed out of their cells for a shower every two or three days.

"You're very lucky. Someone has filed an appeal and the Wizengamot agreed to review your sentence. They're waiting for us in London."

Draco frowned, not quite sure if he'd heard correctly.

"Review? London?"

"Have you gone deaf? Yes, and you should tell the whole truth this time if you want to spend fewer years here," the man grunted, nodding to another guard who had opened the exit door for them.

Draco swallowed, not entirely understanding what was going on.

The guard threw some Floo powder on Azkaban's only fireplace and entered it, still grabbing his arm.

Draco looked back, catching the look of hatred the other guard was giving him before everything went black around him.