New year's eve was marked with many notions, romantic ones.
A kiss to his lips.
"Say that again?"
A shy smile in thin air.
"I love you."
A content sigh from his side, nose buried deep in her soft toffee curls.
"Again."
"I love you." he closed his eyes, taking in her beautiful scent.
"I love you." she repeated, her fingers tracing absent patterns on his bare skin.
"I love you." she tangled her fingers in his hair and pressed another velvety kiss to his lips, his nose, his closed eyes, his cheeks and then, a last one to seal the promise, on his lips again.
Draco's fingers came up to stroke her collarbone, taking their dear time moving against her skin. With every graze, Hermione found herself falling deeper and deeper into the blissful canopy Draco had managed to push her into just by telling her that he loved her. She knew that the moment she had said those words back to him, there would be no turning back, either she was all in or all out. Because let's face it, loving Draco Malfoy was no piece of cake; loving him was like loving a thousand different pieces of a broken mirror— even though it was shattered, you couldn't help but pick up the sharp pieces in your hands and admire the mosiac for it's beauty.
The moment she whispered back the words to him, she knew. She knew it was going to be a difficult road down to happiness, but hey, she had been through this before, right? This time, she had the company of the man she loved.
"God, I'd never get tired of listening to you say that again and again." she felt him exhale deeply. His fingers came down to tangle with hers, "I love you, too," he kissed her lips and looked down at her delicate form— rosy cheeks and wild curls enhancing the beauty she already possessed.
It felt...nice.
To say those words, it felt nice, he concluded.
Maybe it had been the frailty of the nightmare that had provoked him to speak his mind but one way or another, he was glad he had spoken what he had already known, what he had always believed deep down in his heart.Saying those wonderful yet frightening words had been on top of his list of "most worrisome things" and now, he'd give anything to say those words to her.
His heart told him that he knew about loving Hermione all along.
Somewhere in between their little study sessions and enduring the aftereffects of the Quidditch Kiss Cam, he had fallen head over heels in love with the brightest witch of their age.
Somewhere in between stolen kisses and exposing naked confessions at midnight, he had fallen in love with her.
Somewhere in the midst of telling her all about his life, his most cherished memories, his darkest secrets, his past prejudices and everything in between, Draco had surrended over his wounded heart to the girl he had tormented all his life, the girl he had grown to cherish, to worship, to love with all of him.
All he knew now was that she was the most beautiful miracle to happen to him in all his eighteen years of existence.
"Merlin bless that unsmart kiss cam," he pushed himself up on his elbows, admiring the brown of her eyes as she smiled at him.
"Just say stupid. I know you want to." Hermione brushed back his hair from his eyes. The soft locks made her want to keep on running her hand through them.
Draco smirked. "I have come to realize that I tend to say that a lot Granger," Hermione stifled a laugh at his words. "You see, I'm trying to expand my vocabulary."
By now, the mischievous glint in his eyes had taken over his form in full. No longer was the conversation funny, it was greatly amusing to the Gryffindor.
"So you can insult more people with newer words?" at that, the laughter died down a bit. Hermione had contemplated saying that in her mind but realised that it wasn't such a big deal, apparently, it was.
"Don't expect me to be perfect Granger, I'm still trying." he lifted his form off the bed, untangling his limbs from hers as he made an attempt to reach for his discarded black jumper on the floor when Hermione was suddenly up on her feet, the blanket which had been around her before, falling down on the sheets with the softest of thuds.
Draco tried his utter best to resist the temptation of her bare chest right at his disposal.
Of course they had just been playing around like lovesick couples do. Nothing actually happened.
Resist, resist, resist.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that." her voice was apologetic.
Ah, so that's what it was about; Granger being the perfect woman she was, all modest and nice.
Instead of replying, Draco gathered the velvety blanket from the bed and draped it over her shoulders, a gesture so modest yet protective, it even left Draco himself baffled in the aftermath. A sigh escaped his lips, eyes closing. He reached to hold her at arm's length and then, ever so slowly, look up to meet her soft eyes. "Get some sleep." he bent forward and kissed her on the forehead, his lips lingering on her chilled skin for almost a full minute. Hermione felt herself closing her eyes, only reopening when he moved away from her, it suddenly felt cold without his embrace, without him.
Without another word, Draco pulled over the black jumper on his torso and made his way to the door. Hermione still don't move from her place; small hands grasping onto the blanket tightly.
"Draco?"
His blond head turned back to her.
Won't you sleep in the same bed as me? Won't you let me hold you when you scream in your nightmares tonight? Won't you kiss me goodnight?
"I love you." and somehow, just those three words spoke for everything.
She caught a ghost of smile on his lips, clearly relaxed. "God, you're gonna be the death of me." he mumbled just loud enough for him to hear and then, he was taking long strides in her direction and was already kissing her like a madman in love.
"I don't think that word does justice for what I feel towards you Granger." they heard lightning and then, another massive roar of thunder slicing the cold December air. Thick droplets of rain smacked against the glass windows with the ever so often rumbling of thunder in the background.
"I know it doesn't." Hermione surprised herself with her reply. "But I know our eyes tell a different story, Draco."
_
At about five in morning, Draco found himself in the small kitchen the dorm roofed. Hermione was soundly sleeping in their bed. (instead of sleeping in separate rooms, they had decided to share; ever so often switching between Draco's and Hermione's)
Now, sitting atop the small marble counter sipping the cool transparent liquid, Draco found himself slowly drifting towards his past. Losing his mother a few days ago had been a painful reminder of the nasty aftereffects the war had come with. Even though Voldemort and his army had been defeated, this new aura of conspiracy created enough havoc in his mind to make him cringe. His mind went back to what his mother had said that day at the Manor. Before she had died, she had told him that Voldemort was rising again but how could that be? Potter had defeated him, everyone witnessed the greatest wizard of all time turn into nothing but dust and ashes, then how was this possible? Draco had already deduced why his mother had died; it was as evident as daylight, he wondered why hadn't McGonagall concluded that already.
Narcissa Malfoy had died because she had broken an unforgivable vow— she had been fine before she had confessed about Voldemort's uprising.
Only a fool wouldn't pick it up.
But the part where he was more interested in was not the why but the how.
How was this possible?
It was as if the gods above had heard his curious mind—a shiny blue merged with an angelic white cat appeared before him. At first, Draco was thoroughly confused but then, he heard it. "Draco, come see me, now." it took the creature only mere seconds to combine itself with the chilly winds and then, it was gone.
Though he had recognized the voice to be McGonagall's, he wasn't quite sure what kind of magic that had been.
And then, as if someone had dropped a bag of brick on his head, it clicked.
A patronous.
Of course he wouldn't have guessed that right away, it was magic for the good people, the people who were better than him and those who fought for the light. How utterly foolish of him to even entertain the possibility of thinking of producing, let alone recognizing a patronous right away.
Draco shook his head before walking towards Hermione who was still sleeping soundly without a care in the world, her wild curls made an oddly a shaped halo above her head with arms clutching onto a pillow tightly. Draco allowed himself to take in her beautiful form for a minute. He bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to her temple, snatched his wand from the bedside table before going out of the dorm. As he practically ran towards the headmistress' office, his mind conjured all sorts of explainations as to how Voldemort indeed was rising from the dead. Draco only hoped that McGonagall would be able to tell him one for sure rather than the absurd theories in his head.
By the time he made it to the front door of the huge office, McGonagall could already be seen in the hallway, her back turned to him as she paced the small space with as much calmness as she could muster.
But you could see the fear in her eyes.
Draco suddenly stopped.
"Professor." his voice was hoarse, he didn't care one bit.
Upon seeing the blond, McGonagall immediately lost her calm little by little. Whether it was the frantic movement of her hands or the fact that she couldn't conjure a single coherent word to tell the boy before her. Draco noticed how her eyes looked red as if this matter with Voldemort had kept her up more nights than she would admit. Her hair wasn't pulled back into the neat low bun it always happened to be, he could see several grey hairs sticking out of their place, too.
Draco had never seen her like this before.
Minerva McGonagall had been all about composure, rationalization and vindication.
Now, seeing her like this, Draco was starting to question his own thoughts about his teacher.
It was something about her that made his heart pace twice as fast as before.
"Professor, what happened?" he slowly etched forward, palms held up as if trying to tell a child that there was no need to worry, I am here to help you.
When she didn't speak, he knew that it was very bad news. He had predicted that it was bad news already but never in a million years had he predicted it to be this bad judging by the look on her face. McGonagall slipped off her glasses, pinched the bridge of her nose and put the glasses back on.
Even though Draco was reaching point break, he forced himself to remain steady.
One of them had to be rational right now.
And he chose to be just that.
"Professor," Draco's voice trembled with a fear he didn't know he housed in his mind, he was losing it before even knowing what was going on. He came ahead to stand right next to her as McGonagall, without another word, opened her office door and ushered him inside. Things like these, Draco debated in his mind, could only be told in the confinement of four walls, the more the better.
Wordlessly, both of them made their way inside. Immediately, Draco was thankful for the warming spells placed inside, coming barefoot in a jumper and trousers wasn't really the most proper thing to wear when wandering the castle.
"It's true."
Draco didn't even hear her until she was standing right before him, taking deep breath to remain calm.
His eyes widened, the storm in his heart never subsidized.
And for the first time in forever, the invisible ache behind two words settled in his heart, the finality of it, the message of war, the horrible aftermath that would follow, the lives that would be taken, the childhoods that were going to be snatched away, everything.
He couldn't speak a single word, yet, his mind formed full logic of every single thing uttered then and there.
Taking her cue to speak as she watched Draco struggle, McGonagall sighed. "It's true." she repeated, "Voldemort is rising again. Your mother was right. She died trying to save you from the dark lord. Narcissa Malfoy had broken the unforgivable vow only to tell you to keep yourself safe."
That much, he had already known.
Instead, his mind went to her earlier statement.
"How— how do you know this is all true?" he finally managed to say after what felt like hours. His throat was strangely dry and his mouth felt like it had been stuffed with sand, making him utterly miserable to even speak a word.
The headmistress closed her eyes. Truth was, she didn't have words to explain the horror she had just come to know moments before she had called in Draco.
But she would try.
"I went to Azkaban."
Cringe.
Draco's face twisted in a scorn, as if the place held the worst memories for him, which, indeed, was true; his father had been there all this time.
"Why would you—" but was cut off.
"Ever since that incident at the Manor, I've been asking around. Asking anyone of my most trusted acquaintances and friends to report me anything at all about any odd behaviour going on in their divisions; whether that be the Ministry of Magic, Three Broomstick, Azkaban, whatever. It was a small leap, a very small leap, Mr. Malfoy but after almost a week of futile attempts, I've finally been led to a pointer which happened to be Azkaban." Draco was thoroughly confused by the time she looked back at him from peering on the floor.
"What did you get?"
At that, she fell silent again, but thank god, it had only been a few seconds.
"All the deatheaters The Order captured during the war," she trailed, looking carefully at Draco for his reaction. "Their death marks were also burning, much similar to yours."
It was as if someone had pulled the ground from right under him, cracked it open and buried him deep inside. He had been so caught up with her own death mark, he hadn't even entertained the possiblity of all the other death eaters experiencing the same.
Nothing left his mouth during the whole time. He poised himself to have an open mind about this whole crucible.
"Their marks have been burning since last night, that's why I had been there; seeing the scene of myself because it was just so unbelievable to the ears." she had managed to collect herself a bit during the time but one could still see the hint of threat in her eyes.
"Was my—" he manged to let out, couldn't even speak his mind.
McGonagall gave him a pitiful look. "That's about the reason I called you in here except for informing you about the situation with the death eaters of Azkaban." she pointed him to sit down which he did wordlessly. Something told her that what she was about to tell him could absolutely crush him. "I'm afraid your father wasn't there. Whoever is trying to bring back Voldemort from the dead, took your father from his cell. I saw the streaks of blood on the walls myself. I'm so sorry." she paused, patted his shoulder almost sadly. She couldn't imagine what he was going through; first his mother and now, even his father.
But Draco remained emotionless.
On the outside.
On the inside, his heart was feeling an overwhelming sensation that made him want to scream his fucking lungs out. Maybe he hadn't loved his father, let alone liked him, or maybe intolerant of his presence in the same room as him but he would never have wished for his death. The fact that he was what he was today was because of his father had made him loathe his father like a madman, like a murder on the loose, frantical and frenzied but never would he wish actual death for the poor bastard. Slowly but surely, he was coming to realise that people made mistakes— friends, family, everyone, and that was okay. This didn't mean even the slightest bit, that it was okay for his father to force him into taking the death mark and dumping this life of darkness on him, a life he never asked for, a life he would give anything away to not have.
But death? Dear lord, no.
He himself hadn't been able to kill Dumbledore that night at the Astronomy Tower, how could he wish for his own father's death?
"—Take all the time you need, it's been hard for you, I can't imagine what it is like for you, you lost your parents, your godfather—" McGonagall was speaking and he was blinking up at her.
Snape.
Why didn't he think of the old virgin before?
Suddenly all too eager for answers than ever before. Maybe his father's death had pushed the final button of his impatience or maybe it was the fact that the headmistress had practically laid out everything right before him.
"We need to go." he didn't look back, didn't even take a second look at the place or his teacher.
When he frantically advanced towards the fireplace, looking for the floo powder, it was only then that McGonagall caught up on his actions. She gathered a large amount of green powder from the mantel and handed it to him before taking a handful amount herself.
"What is this all about?" the witch managed to let out.
"Malfoy Manor!" he roared instead, the green flames licking his existence clean. Minerva didn't even have time to scold him as she watched him disappear. She heaved a sigh before entering the fireplace for herself. "Malfoy Manor." she boomed, and then, she was being wrapped in thick green flames.
The headmistress opened her eyes to see picth black. She drew her wand from her robes, muttering a faint lumos just when Draco lightened the tip of his wand.
Before McGonagall could speak, Draco was already running up the stairs so she forced herself to follow him.
In a parallel mind to hers, Draco muttered all kinds of profanities under his breath. He slipped a few times as well as hit some pieces of furniture on his spree to locate the gigantic library that the Manor resided. He had to get there, everything else could wait. He could near McGonagall yelling in the background but he honestly couldn't give less of a fuck. Right now, he needed answers, everything else, like he said, could wait.
How was Voldemort rising again?
Who was the mastermind behind this whole plan?
Why did they kill his father?
Was this some sort of a personal attack meant only for him?
Questions and more questions, yet no answers.
But hey had a lead, oh Merlin, he had a lead.
From the moment McGonagall had voiced his godfather's name mere moments ago, Draco had felt like an utter fool. Why hadn't he thought of this before? It was true after all, where there was a will, there was a way and his hunger for answers at this point served perfectly for his ambitions in the near future.
Draco craned his necks round the dark place, scanning familiar rooms as he went by them. He knew the Manor like the back of his hand, it shouldn't have taken this much time but the darkness surrounding him slowed him down.
Finally locating the room, Draco yelled, "In here!" just so McGonagall would know where to find him in this huge place, she had to, after all, see this for herself.
Seconds later she came in running towards him, her breathing raged and eyes confused. She was probably wondering why the fuck had he set on a spree after the horrible news she had given him. Well, the answers lied within the four walls they were about to enter.
Draco was about to step inside when McGonagall grabbed him by the fabric of his jumper, clearly pissed. Her mouth was set in a grim line and Draco knew better than to mess with her at that moment. "What the, pardon my language, hell is going on?"
Draco used precious seconds to recover as she let go of his jumper, still waiting for answers.
"You said it yourself, my godfather." Draco tried to reason, pushing himself further into the dark room. He looked around the jaded place, dust loitering around like second skin to the numerous books and shelves. When McGonagall didn't speak, he took the liberty to talk again. "As he was my godfather, my mother insisted that we keep a portrait of him in the library. After the war, Snape was considered a hero and also, the biggest traitor to Voldemort, but since Voldemort was dead by then, my mother saw no reason than to not put up a portrait of him here. Look!" he almost yelled in shock as a familiar body walked around from amongst the many portraits on the wall. The greasy haired man disappeared from one portrait only to emerge into a new one. It was still very dark but she could see the familiar pointy face staring right back at her with similar disgust to mirror to his days from the undead.
"And which better person to ask around about Voldemort than his very own right-hand man?" Draco reasoned with the woman who, for some reason, couldn't quite look away from the portrait of the former potions' teacher.
"He must know something we don't, professor. If not, we have to at least try." Draco practically begged her, for what, he didn't know.
"I was wondering when you would come seeking me," a flat voice drawled from the background.
And then, she saw for herself.
"Minerva." Snape's gloomy voice filled the air, it was still razor sharp, just as Draco remembered.
It took a minute or two. "Severus."
"I wish we had met under different circumstances, you know, without the threat of war lingering in thin air. Mind you, all over again." he spoke, adjusting his black robes and sighing, as if he was done with the universe as a whole.
McGonagall finally gathered her composure, moments later, she was talking to the portrait, leaving Draco wonder how she recovered from the shock so quickly?
"So it is true," She wondered aloud.
"Yes, it is. I knew this day would come, sooner or later." Snape brushed his hands on his robes and remained seated in his huge luxurious chair.
"Impossible," worded Draco from the other side of the room. "How could you have known?"
Instead of paying him his mind, he simply looked at him with a pointed look he was so well known for.
"Tell your student Minvera," he started with gritted teeth, "To not question the Dark Lord's most trusted and the most disloyal servant."
McGonagall shot him a look that meant murder.
"Severus, please, you need to help us. I know you are the most likely person who could have any sort of answers to our questions." the witch sounded defeated. With a final look of desperation, she added, "I can't lose my students again, Severus."
Snape seemed to think about the situation for a moment. He took his time, examining his long slender fingers and then his black robes for any imperfection to the naked eye. Meanwhile, Draco and McGonagall stood their ground, impatient but refusing to back down. Just when they were sure he wasn't going to open his mouth, Snape surprised them yet again.
"You know, I can't quite believe it Minerva, you being so thick." his drawled in a bored tone.
This response equally confused Draco just as much as it did McGonagall.
The pair exchanged a look of puzzlement at his words.
"How can you not see exactly what is going on here, Minerva?" they watched him stand up from his seat and move from one portrait to another.
"Stop talking in riddles, Severus. I know exactly what's going on here and what exactly will happen if we don't act accordingly! People are going to die, homes are going to be destroyed, childhoods are going to be snatched away, lives would be absolutely wrecked! So don't you dare tell me that I am oblivious to the fact of chaos lingering in thin air! I've been here before, and I am here now. Only this time, I wish to know beforehand so I can save the lives from being thrashed. I wish to know this time if I can help them so do tell me Severus, is that so wrong of me?" her nostrils flared, Draco, who had been bitting down his tongue to avoid speak something treacherous, gulped audibly.
Snape's expression was a mixture of empathy and reluctance by now.
Draco didn't know what to deduce from that.
"What I am trying to say is that," he stopped, breathed. "The only reason this gruesome person is trying to bring back the dark lord from the dead is because they know that there is still hope." he reasoned.
"Hope? How is there hope? Potter defeated him, how can there still be hope after that?" Draco's eyes turned to slit, he was having a hard time digesting all these riddles and frankly, it was getting on his nerves.
"Dense boy," he heard Snape mutter under his breath and then turn to McGonagall.
"There is an ninth Horcrux, if you haven't figured it out yet." the finality in his voice was frightening.
And maybe just maybe, the one in Draco's eyes matched the one in his voice.
_
I bet you didn't see that coming. I know what you're thinking, this book is just so full of surprises. Well, fasten your seat belts beacsue you ain't seen nothing yet.
Special thanks to me for finally writing a new chapter, kudos.
If you have any theories, drop them here. Let's hear your point of view as to what is happening and what will happen next in the story.
I am not sure how many chapters this will have but we are reaching the climax, let's hope you stick around and witness the truth with your own eyes. ;)
As always, drop a review and a vote if you liked it! Looking forward to hear your thoughts on this! Don't hold back!
All the love, me.