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Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, and only the story line and any OC's belong to me
Hermione was submerged, and Charlie's voice warbled toward her as he explained what happened to Dorea the day she passed away. The framework, the vague details had been there before, but now there were two eyewitnesses fleshing out a vivid account of what had transpired.
Diagon Alley: Bill and Charlie had convinced their Mum to buy them each multi-coloured, swirl lollipops as big as their head. They were side-skipping around their Mother, who was cradling a sleeping Percy to her chest; Percy was one. She'd just gotten her youngest to fall asleep.
"We were being little shitehounds. We were singing at the top of our lungs, just being right terrors."
Two men were arguing, they were slurring and falling over each other. The taller one had pulled out his wand, spittle flying from his mouth, face pink with anger as he cast a spell. Unfortunately, he tripped over his own feet and missed his companion entirely.
Time had slowed, and everyone on that section of cobblestone street had turned to see the orange light from his wand sail forth and hit an innocent bystander.
The woman's paper bag filled with tubs of ice-cream went flying from her arms as she collapsed on the spot. Her long raven partially covered her lower face and was spread out behind her. Her body had twitched. She had been reaching for something.
Molly handed Percy to Bill, and rushed to the woman's side. She'd taken out her wand and was screaming for someone to bloody help. Molly tried to use basic healing spells, anything to help the woman, but it had been to no avail. She'd gone still within moments.
A traumatic event for a six and four year old to witness. It had stuck with them, the images burned onto the backs of their eyelids, and yet the memory of it had dulled over their childhood. Until, they found out what being able to see Thestrals meant. Then, again, their lives had continued and that day faded once more.
Once they learned the truth about Hermione and Draco's disappearance, Bill and Charlie decided that they would tell them about the day their Mother died. They didn't know if they should, but they thought they needed to.
In a way, it was cathartic, in others it was like picking at a puckered, healed, old wound with the tip of a knife. A frigid, bony hand with razor sharp nails squeezed Hermione's heart.
The Weasley brothers apologised. Hermione nodded dully, Draco was stoic and his jaw was clenched as he stared at the starry sky.
Charlie reached into the bag and pulled out a tub of lemon crackle and chocolate crumble ice-cream, as well as two plastic spoons. He held them out like a peace offering. Hermione untangled her hands from Draco's to accept the douceur with trembling fingers. She gave them a feeble smile. Charlie ruffled her hair.
"How did you know?" Hermione asked, already knowing the answer.
"Somehow Bill remembered what she bought that day. I just assumed all that ice-cream wasn't for her."
"The strangest details stick with you," Bill offered quietly.
The Weasley brothers re-entered their familial home after a few more shared words.
The pints of ice-cream were cold in her hands, and tiny pricks exploded across her skin. Hermione handed Draco the lemon crackle and a spoon. There was a yellow dot on the black tub's cover, and the flavours were written on the front in silver ink. The calligraphy was gorgeous, with large loops and sharp precision.
Draco turned the ice-cream tub in his hands a couple times, body taut with icy steel wires. Hermione tapped her cover against his, before she placed it upright in her lap and pried the top off. Hermione's spoon hovered over the ice-cream as she recalled the last time she'd shared a tub with her Mother.
"Chocolate helps make everything better," Dorea sighed happily as her silver spoon dipped into the ice-cream carton. Hermione hummed her agreement as she did the same. They lightly tapped their spoons together before eating their frozen treat in sync. They both made soft noises of delight as the chocolate melted over their tongue, a couple dark chocolate chunks were hidden amongst the creaminess. Hermione chewed on them absently as Dorea took another spoonful.
"It's a shame Draco doesn't like chocolate, he's missing out," Hermione commented errantly. Dorea nodded as she ate more ice-cream.
The two witches were sitting on the back porch, squished together in one of the lounge chairs. Hermione's legs were thrown over her Mother's lap. Dorea absentmindedly toyed with the ends of Hermione's hair as they enjoyed the humid summer day.
James and Draco had gone flying out in the Orchards around ten that morning. They yelled over their shoulders—as they raced for the shed round the back that housed their brooms— that they would be spending the day by the stream on the outskirts of their property.
Charlus had been called into work for an emergency.
"He is, but, that just means there is more for us," Dorea grinned wickedly, her grey eyes sparkling. Hermione hummed in agreement as she dipped her spoon into the container once more.
The ice-cream had started to melt. Hermione's spoon easily pierced it, and she carved out a small spoonful and raised it to her lips. She ate in silence. Draco was watching her intently. He hadn't made any movements to eat his own.
Hermione smiled despite herself. It tasted the same as always, yet the chocolate was richer, creamier, and an oomph sweeter. Dorea would have loved it. "You should eat your ice-cream, before it all melts," Hermione said. She bumped her shoulder against Draco's, which drew the tiniest smile from him.
The pair sat on the front stoop of the Burrow in relative silence, and ate their ice-cream as the stars winked down at them.
Sunday, May 23rd, 1999
Malfoy Manor
"Don't you think burning the entire Manor down is a little extreme?" Lucius grumbled. The gravel underfoot crunched as he walked up the driveway towards the house. He and Draco had been taking a dawdling tour of the grounds.
Draco rubbed at his right temple, and sighed through his nostrils as he trailed after his birth Father. Lucius was an obstinate man.
"Father, we agreed that today is the day you and Cissa will be moved to Sett Cottage for the foreseeable future." Draco unbuttoned his mulberry coloured suit jacket, and reached into his inner pocket to withdraw a gold timepiece.
He hadn't bothered to carry one in the past, but some old habits had resurfaced after being reunited with Lucius. Draco swore lowly, and jogged briefly until he fell in step with his older companion.
"As a matter-of-fact, the Aurors will be here momentarily to escort you and Cissa with mine and Hermione's help."
Lucius groaned, smoothing down the front of his pale hair. "Couldn't you have found more suitable lodgings? From what you've described, sand is going to get everywhere."
Draco had allowed a foolish thought to occupy space in his head for a few days. Lucius and Narcissa could stay with them at Potter Manor. As he thought about the logistics, he hurriedly dismissed the idea. Their informal, easygoing way of living their daily lives didn't align without the tradition that ruled Lucius's world.
He would faint at the sight of Sirius walking around shirtless in the morning. Or Salazar forbid he bumped into Tonks in her knickers as she sneaks into the kitchens for a midnight snack, Draco thought.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Lucius. You don't really have the luxury of being picky about where you live for the time being. It was hard enough convincing the Wizengamot to allow a change of residence this close to your hearing."
The hearing had been postponed twice, but its purpose was to determine whether Lucius's house arrest would continue, or if he would be released on conditional probation. Free to go and do as he pleased. With regular check-ins with the Auror department, to ensure that he wasn't engaged in anything untoward.
Narcissa's due date was also quickly approaching. Lucius had agreed that the sooner they performed a purification ritual, the better. Long-term exposure to such putrid magic was bound to be detrimental to the baby.
Draco had utilised every persuasion tactic that his Father taught him to convince the man to burn down the Manor as well. Lucius refused outright. Hermione changed his mind.
Hermione pointed out with a sweet smile that all the treacherous magic that had been borne from heinous intent had seeped into the fabric of the Manor. It was in the walls, the floorboards, every nook, cranny and crevice. It had rooted itself into the foundations and burrowed deep within the earth. The once beauteous gardens had withered.
Dark magic of that nature tended to warp a person. They didn't want to risk it affecting the Malfoys or Draco's unborn sibling any more than it already may have.
All the preparations for the move were complete. Lucius arranged for the Malfoy's family portraits and precious heirlooms to be transferred to their Gringotts vaults. Curse breakers had been brought in to thoroughly check every item that left the Manor. Anything of sentimental or great monetary value had also been sent. Priceless and beloved furniture included.
Lucius had whinged about the loss of his custom, vast and luxurious bed. Narcissa subtly elbowed him and quieted his complaints.
The Malfoy's Head House Elf was already awaiting them at Sett Cottage, and she was accompanied by one of the younger ones. The others were temporarily working at Hogwarts until a new Manor could be rebuilt.
With the House Elves there, the blood wards wouldn't need to be adjusted, but it would be uncomfortable for Narcissa to travel through them. She rarely travelled at the moment. They'd also connected the floo network to Potter Manor if necessary.
Lucius wouldn't be able to leave Sett Cottage or its environs. The invisible anklet—temporarily burned into his skin with magic—would alert the Aurors if he made any attempts to steal away in the dead of the night.
Narcissa had neatly packed away their entire wardrobe into a black clutch. Hermione had added an undetectable extension charm to it.
The Manor had been swept and checked thrice to ensure they hadn't missed anything.
The only thing left was for Narcissa and Lucius to vacate the Manor and the acres of land they owned.
The Manor was to be burnt down first. They would begin the cleansing with fire. Then, they would move onto the trickier part; the purification ritual.
Lucius was whinging about sand as the two men approached the looming, grand structure. Draco saw the figures gathered in the distance.
When they arrived at the front of the Manor, Hermione, Jameson, Tonks, and Narcissa were awaiting them. Narcissa's black clutch was in her right hand. The other was looped through Hermione's.
Since their return to the present, Hermione and Narcissa had made a conscious effort to get to know one another better; they were going to be family. Now, the two witches got along famously, and sometimes Draco wasn't sure if it was good, or excessively bad. Perhaps it was a mixture of both.
"You're lucky the hounds are already at the cottage, or I would have sent them to come find you," Narcissa said with a shrewd twist of her lips. Hermione grinned crookedly at her side.
"Are the peacocks there as well? You know you have to keep them separate or—"
Narcissa sniffed, affronted by the insinuation. "No, the peacocks are at Andromeda's for the time being. Which you would know if you listened. I told you she'd been round to pick them up yesterday morning."
Draco hadn't known how odd it was to own albino peacocks as a child, until Blaise stated how envious he was when they were in third year. Blaise's obsession with exotically beautiful pets began around that time. He didn't own as many as he would have liked, but they were all treated with copious care and affection.
The grounds of Zabini Manor had been altered to accommodate the various habitats required. Blaise's Mother hadn't been consulted, especially since he'd adjusted the wards so that she was no longer welcome.
"Don't worry, Lucius. Draco constructed the home with the utmost care, and it safely housed Riley for years. I'm sure a few months there won't kill you," Hermione said as she caught the end of Lucius's latest string of muttered complaints.
One of Lucius's well-groomed eyebrows arched upwards and he snuck a glance at Draco. "You built a house?"
"Very unbefitting of my station, I am aware, now, can we get a move on? We're losing daylight," Draco said bluntly.
Jameson was watching the interactions with mild amusement. He'd thoroughly enjoyed reading Luna Lovegood's Quibbler article, and it had explained quite a few things.
Mad-Eye had always been overly interested in the Potter siblings, and mentioned them over coffee on numerous occasions. He was disappointed when Hermione and Draco hadn't signed up to be Aurors like Sirius and James.
"I didn't mean…" Lucius trailed off, and his lips pressed together in a thin, white line. He had no intention of finishing his statement.
"Got everything?" Tonks prompted, her hair sunshine yellow, freckles dusted across her cheeks, and her eyes were bluish-grey like Narcisssa's.
"Unfortunately, we are all packed," Lucius replied. Narcissa listlessly nodded. She was rubbing her swollen belly in a circular fashion. The baby had been kicking relentlessly since the small hours of the morning. She hadn't slept very well last night.
Hermione scoffed. "I know you are displeased since they keep pushing back the date of your hearing, Lucius, but you could at least pretend to be agreeable about this arrangement."
"Thank you for your concern over my well-being and my state of affairs, Miss Potter," Lucius said impassively. Narcissa didn't have the energy to scold him. She squinted at him and pressed her tongue into her cheek. A promise to reprimand him once she'd had a nap.
"You're welcome. For giving you a place to stay as we perform a purification ritual on your estate." Hermione drawled with a stony gaze.
"Thank you," Lucius said sincerely with a polite inclination of his head. Draco marvelled at the exchange. Lucius invited Hermione over for lunch a few weeks back. She hadn't shared too many of the details, but afterwards, the pair treated each other with respect. A snide comment slipped through on occasion, but mostly, Lucius held Hermione in high-esteem.
"If there's not anything else, we should be on our way," Jameson said. The group readily agreed.
The sixtet held hands, and allowed their magic to flow through one another. It would lessen the magical strain on Hermione and Draco as they side-along apparated the group such a vast distance. They vanished promptly with a loud crack.
Flames crackled, hissed and popped as they leapt around the building, spreading with gleeful ferocity. They eagerly devoured everything that laid in their path. The roof caved in, and the ground under their feet quaked as the impact vibrated outwards. Wooden beams splintered and failed.
Black smoke. Muffled, shrill screams raced from the burning building. The flames jumped skyward, all consuming. The structure collapsed in sections.
Hermione and Draco had borrowed a couple of the chairs from the kitchen table at Sett Cottage and set up in the Manor's frontage. There was enough space that they didn't have to fear the flames, but the harsh heat that radiated outwards kissed their skin.
They observed the meticulous craftsmanship that had created the Manor crumble. They saw generations of lives lived within Malfoy Manor's walls go up in flames and tainted smoke.
"Lucius told me he's already having plans drawn up for the construction of the new Manor," Hermione said. She was holding a butterbeer in her left hand, the drink was ice-cold, and the condensation gathered along the glass surface raced down the sides. Draco was enjoying a lemon bar.
Draco nodded as he bit into his sweet yet tart treat. The powdered sugar clung to his upper lip, and he held a hand over his mouth as he licked it away. He waited until he was finished chewing to say. "Father has always been resourceful. He's on house arrest, but still has people running around, gladly doing his bidding."
"We are some of those people," Hermione pointed out as she took a sip of her drink. She picked at non-existent lint on the front of her teal dress along her bateau neckline, her skirts neatly tucked under her. She had foregone shoes. It would interrupt with the ritual she said.
The fire was dying down to embers. Fiery red lines ran through the blackened husks of the building. A tower of billowing smoke made for the sky.
"I'm doing this for Cissa's child. For my younger sibling." Draco said, popping the last of his lemon bar in his mouth. He wiped his fingers in his napkin, and pocketed it. There was nowhere to discard it.
Hermione jumped up, draining the last of her fizzy, buttery drink. She placed the empty bottle on her chair. She clapped her hands together. Her magic crept from her, testing her surroundings.
"Well then, we better get started. This is going to take a couple days after all," Hermione said. She held the side of her neck and slowly stretched it to the side. She promptly tiptoed and raised her arms high above her head.
Draco began to withdraw phials from his inner jacket pockets. Held inside the phials was pearlescent white, viscous liquid with threads of mercurial strings throughout. Draco tossed a couple to Hermione and she easily caught them.
"You're right," Draco agreed. The potions were specially concocted to burrow into the earth and purge the dark magic. They would drip the liquid across the vast grounds, and it would resonate with their spell.
Hermione would be on one side of the grounds, Draco on the opposite end. The spell was most effective during the daylight hours. Summer was fast approaching, and the sun was shining brightly. The air was still cool enough to leave a tingle across one's skin.
They would rest overnight to recuperate and recover their magic and finish the ritual tomorrow.
"I'll go North. Let's meet back here in forty-five minutes, and then officially start the ritual," Hermione commanded.
Hermione unstoppered one of the phials and strolled away. She held it horizontal and tiny drops dripped onto the ground. They shimmered for a brief moment before they seeped into the dry earth and disappeared.
Draco watched his witch purposefully stride away from him and he pursed his lips thoughtfully. There was something fragile about her posture that worried him. Hermione promised what Molly said wasn't still bothering her, but he wasn't sure if he believed her.
With a sigh, Draco unstoppered one of his phials, and headed in the opposite direction. Draco trusted that if Hermione wasn't okay, that she would tell him eventually.
And if not, I'll figure it out on my own soon enough, Draco thought.
That was an issue to deal with later, currently he had an important task to finish. By the time they were finished, the Malfoy's ancient land would be purified and born anew. A new era—borne of fire—was about to be ushered in for the Sacred Twenty-Eight family.
The Malfoys and Potters dynamic is one of my favourite things about Part III. Anyways, hope you enjoyed the chapter, and I'll see you with a new chapter on Monday!
Indie x