CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: BLACK FRIDAY
Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire, England
& Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland
Friday, November 28, 1997
Friday was an extreme emotional rollercoaster. Hermione lost herself to tears more than once.
Initially, she'd woken to find Draco still fast asleep. He lay on his back, one arm flung out to the side, the other cradling her. His long, platinum bangs fell into his eyes, and his mouth was partially opened as he breathed in deep slumber. Carefully disentangling herself so not to disturb him, she made her way into the bathroom for her morning toilet. She then started the shower, knowing she was going to need to get cleaned up for Lucius' funeral later this afternoon. She scrubbed down, shampooed her hair and conditioned it, then rinsed. As she was about to turn the spigot, Draco's hand shot over hers, preventing her from shutting off the water. He joined her under the warm spray, allowing her to wash him down as he cleansed his hair.
When the foamy soap was funneling down the drain, he grabbed her unexpectedly and held her to his chest tightly. At first, she thought he was attempting something amorous, but then she heard it – an agonized sob torn from his chest - and she knew what he was about. Holding him to her, they sank to the shower floor to their haunches, letting the water pour over them without care. Hermione held the man she loved while he once more lost himself in his grief, and she cried for him.
When he'd exhausted himself, Draco let her go, obviously embarrassed by his outburst. He pulled away from her after that, lost in his own world. She left him to dress himself to go check on his mother, whom she was sure would need just as much support, if not more right then. Draco had lost his father, but Narcissa had lost her soul mate.
As she'd presumed, Lady Malfoy was in a much worse state than her son. Summoning Binky, together they managed to get the mistress of the house bathed and dressed. Draco's mother, so approachable yesterday, was now cold and distant. Hermione knew this was her way of coping, however, and tried not to take the waspish comments personally, as Dumbledore had advised. She escorted Narcissa down to the dining room for breakfast when they were ready.
As they were concluding their mostly silent meal, Binky apparated to Hermione's side, informing them that a delivery had been made to the Drawing Room from a wizarding floral shop. When Draco demanded to know how the delivery got in without his permission, the wide-eyed house elf informed him that the florist's helper elves had apparated the flowers in. A look of understanding dawned on her lover's face, and he simply nodded his thanks to the small creature, who popped away again with a snap of fingers. Curious to see what had arrived, all three retired to the Drawing Room together.
When they opened the door, they discovered that the room was filled with flowers, literally. On every available surface – on the long table, on the cushion of every chair, in the corners, on the mantle, and on the couches even – there were baskets, vases and standing spray flower arrangements. Rose, lilies, tulips, carnations, daisies, and dahlias in every color and size imaginable filled the room with a fresh, light fragrance. In the middle of winter, Hermione wondered again how such a thing was possible. Only through magic, she assumed.
"How? Who?" Draco asked, dumbstruck, his face a mask of wonder.
Hermione approached one arrangement, noting a rather large, thick card attached and pulled the envelope away, opening it. Inside was a multi-paged sympathy gesture signed with the names of every Hogwarts student and staff member in alphabetical listing. A personal note from Harry indicated that everyone in the castle had chipped in to offer their sincerest regrets to the Malfoy family. Much too awed to speak, she passed the card to Draco, tears dripping down her cheeks. Peeking over his shoulder, Narcissa's eyes widened at first, and then she started bawling. Hugging his mother to him tightly, Hermione noted her lover's eyes watering and spilling over again as well. This gesture - by pretty much an entire generation of people - had been touching and generous, and secretly in her heart, Hermione made note to herself to thank every single person in school when she returned back on Monday to classes.
Giving time for Draco and his mother to pass through their grief, she moved about the room, looking at other cards. There was one from Andromeda Tonks, Narcissa's sister, another from Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin and her husband Remus, a third from Kinglsey Shacklebolt and his staff from the Ministry, and one from the Weasleys. The Greengrasses, the Parkinsons, and Signora Zabini sent flowers as well. It was an outpouring of love that Hermione, honestly, hadn't expected for Lucius Malfoy.
She looked over her shoulder at her boyfriend. No, she knew who it had really been for.
X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X
Advanced Potions with Professor Slughorn was tedious that morning, as he was reviewing all of the potion ingredients they'd used over the last few months in preparation for the up-coming end of term tests. If Teddy had to think about rat spleen, dried seahorse, or toasted dragonfly thoraxes any longer, he feared his breakfast was going to come up. The healing Daphne had provided yesterday had worked well enough for him to skip taking potions the rest of the day, but this morning, he was back to feeling awful.
By the end of class, he'd decided he'd find his ex- and request she provide him with another dose of her magic, as the thought of downing another potion made him queasy.
He had a free period before lunch, and walked down to his Common Room to see if she was there on his way to dropping off his satchel. By luck, she was with Astoria, sitting before the fire on one of the couches. The siblings were studying together, as was their preference. "May I speak with you?" he requested politely, stepping to Daphne's side and looking down at her.
Surprised to see him, she glanced up, noted his serious gaze and nodded. "I'll be back later," she excused herself, leaving her books in her sister's care, and Teddy led her up the men's dorm stairs. She hesitated only slightly at the first step, but then followed him to his room, walking a few paces behind. He could feel her emerald stare against his back the whole way.
Making sure his roommates were out, he closed and locked the door behind them, then charmed it for privacy. Putting his pack down on his bed, he looked up to notice she was still standing near the exit, clear trepidation plastered to her pretty features. "What's this all about, Theo?" she asked, her hands behind her back, probably to keep herself from yanking on her hair. Since he'd pointed out her 'tell' to her, he'd noticed her making a special effort to stop using this coping method. She slipped often, but around him, he noticed she was extra conscientious.
"That healing spell you cast yesterday was amazing," he began, flattering with the truth. "It lasted all the rest of the day and last night, which is something my potions can't do. Plus there's no after taste." It was a bad joke, but he was trying. "I wondered… would it be possible for you to teach me this spell?"
She blinked, clearly taken aback by his request for help. "Sure… I mean, it's not a big deal. I don't mind."
He crossed over to her, stopping well out of range and within comfort levels for them both. "It's a big deal to me, Daphne. It would mean a lot not to have to drink three or more of those gods awful potions every day, and still worry about vomiting or passing out." He took his wand out, his hand trembling as his illness came on fast again. "Could we try it now? I'm kind of in a bad place at the moment."
"Oh!" Daphne gasped, noticing just then the pasty hue to his skin and the dampness on his brow. "Of course!" She lifted her wand and showed him the spell for healing that she had used, casting it on him at the same moment. Immediately, he felt a cooling of his body temperature, a calming of his stomach and nervous system, and his equilibrium was restored. They faux practiced casting it together a few times so he could get the hang of it.
"Thanks," he expressed his gratitude with a smile. "I feel almost normal again."
Daphne paused, and he could see THE QUESTION (the one he'd been dreading answering) forming in her eyes as she stared at him. "Will you tell me now what it is that's ravaging you like this? Is it… going to go away ever?"
Teddy smirked, acridly bitter. "Oh, yeah, it'll go away. In a few months, maybe a little longer."
His ex- was deadly silent and he knew she finally understood. He couldn't look her in the eye, feeling ashamed by his helplessness, even though none of this was his fault, truly.
"Theo…"
He didn't know how it happened, but suddenly she was in his arms, pressing her graceful, thin body to his, winding her arms about his neck. Her face was pressed against his jumper at that junction where his collar met his chest, and she was sobbing. "No… please tell me you're lying!" she wailed, clearly heartbroken by his news. "Theo, just tell me you're lying!"
Having her pressed up against him once more, hearing the sorrow in her voice, feeling the need to both comfort and be comforted… Something in Teddy snapped. Dropping his wand and cupping Daphne's tear-streaked cheeks, he lowered his head and slanted his lips over hers without hesitation, silencing her in an instant. It was a chaste kiss, and yet, under the soft inducement were unspoken apologies and deep, trembling regrets. Lasting only seconds, he pulled away and his lids fluttered open to see Daphne's had never closed; they were wide with shock.
What had he just done?
…
Shit, who cared? It had felt so good and he wanted more.
Ignoring repercussions, forgetting their past, he pulled her to him, wrapped his arms about her tightly, and kissed Daphne fiercely, letting two years of pent-up emotions flow through his mouth and into her.
This… this was so familiar, like coming home.
Thrusting his tongue in between her rosy, glossed lips, he coaxed her to respond. She finally did with a sigh of surrender, pushing her hands through his hair, pulling it out of its binding, gripping it strongly between her fingers as her mouth cast over his with intense need and desire. They fumbled backwards against the wall, the moment heating up, that familiar falling sensation taking hold in Teddy's gut.
By all that was Slytherin, he'd missed this. He'd missed her.
They kissed long and hard, sparring with each other, taking and giving, making up for lost time. It was fucking awesome. Teddy's todger was so hard he thought he might lose it right there.
The handle on the bedroom door turned noisily. The unknown intruder discovered the lock engaged, and proceeded to knock instead. The moment was thwarted, and Teddy pulled away from Daphne guiltily. They stared at each other, surprised, neither one quite knowing what to say about what they'd just been doing… what they both obviously wanted to continue doing.
The knock transformed into a pounding. "Come on, mate," Pucey's muffled whined resounded from the other side of the wood. "Open the friggin' door."
Removing his hands from his ex- quickly, Teddy smoothed down his rumpled clothes, bent and picked up his wand and waved it at the lock, setting it free. Adrian walked in as soon as he turned the knob, annoyance across his features. "What was the damned hold up? I was… Whoa." He stopped just this side of the doorway, noticing Daphne for the first time, seeming shocked that a girl was standing in their room. Blood suffused Pucey's cheeks and he looked down, chagrined. "Sorry," he muttered, then moved past them quickly to his bunk, where he tossed his satchel down. "Um… didn't meant to interrupt. Just getting some books for afternoon classes." He rummaged through his trunk and traded tomes off. "Be out of here in a jiff."
Finishing his business in less than a minute, Adrian made his way back out the door, shutting it quietly behind him with a "see ya." An awkward silence hovered in the room with his departure.
"He talks funny," Daphne finally said, more for something to fill the space, clearly, than to actually discuss Adrian Pucey's speech patterns.
"He's Muggle-born," Teddy remarked as if that explained everything. To a Pureblood like Daphne, it probably did. Having used up that conversation's opportunity "in a jiff," he turned to the beautiful blonde witch he'd once given his heart to and threw her an apologetic expression. "Look, I'm sorry… for that."
Daphne was watching him carefully now, considering what he'd just said. He could see the Slytherin in her contemplating a course of action. With a weary sigh, she bent to pick up her wand from the floor where it had tumbled from her hand when they'd gone against the wall. "I'm not," she finally told him, straightening up. "In fact…" She stepped into his private space, and he took a step back, unsure. The process repeated until he was flush with one of his bed posts. "I'd like to do it again." Teddy was only a few centimeters taller than she, so it didn't take much stretching on Daphne's part to maneuver her mouth back over his for another kiss.
Gods almighty, her lips were so soft! Had they been this pliant before? He suddenly couldn't remember. Shit, he couldn't practically breathe!
She pulled away before he could respond properly, causing him to growl in frustration. Angry now, he bit. "Don't tease," he warned her, the animal side of him wanting nothing more than to grab her, throw her down on his bed and shag her hard. He had to put his hands behind his back and bite the inside of his jaw to keep from acting on the impulse.
"I'm not teasing, Theo," she breathed against his face. "Or pretending. Not with you. But I understand. Neither one of us expected that. I... understand." With that, she turned and left his room quietly. It took Teddy five more minutes to calm his racing heart before he could gather his wits.
Seriously, what had he just fucking done?
Opened Pandora's Box, that's what.
X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X
Both partners in Wendell & Phells floo'd into the Manor that afternoon at one o'clock, per invitation, and met with them in the dining room. Draco crossed over to them, halting them just inside the door to the room, and the three men spent a few minutes talking quietly amongst themselves, while Hermione took after lunch tea with Narcissa, giving the woman the comfort of her presence, and not unnecessarily filling the air with irritating chatter. Yesterday may have been a time for occupation, but today was all about restraint.
She knew what the men were discussing by the occasional word that echoed across the distance between them. There were negotiations on the best way to bring the casket in, the issue of clearing the walk for the solemn processional march to the crypt, and last minute details of the actual ceremony Draco had so painstakingly dictated in their owls back and forth earlier in the week. These men from the funeral home, she noted, were professionals, in that they were both reverent and prepared, and macabre though it was to think it, Hermione would remember to keep their name in mind should there ever be a future need.
When all was set, Draco crossed over to them. Hermione saw what he held in his hands, as she was facing him. His mother did not, as her back was to him. She traded a look with her lover, and then put her tea cup down in preparation for anything.
Narcissa was eerily still for a moment, as if she had eyes in the back of her head and knew what was coming. She put her cup down neatly in its saucer and placed her hands on her thighs, palms down. She appeared to be steeling herself. "You can… give them to me now," she spoke in as highly dignified a manner as possible, but Hermione could see her slightly trembling shoulders and the tightening around the woman's mouth. Were those frowning sorrow lines that were beginning to deeply crease her porcelain skin around her lips?
Draco stepped forward and carefully brought his father's cane and wedding band into view. Narcissa's eyes tracked their slow, hesitant movement towards her, and pain etched along her outer eyelids, leaving their mark upon her beautiful features as well. With great sensitivity and precise treatment, Draco placed his father's things on the table before his mother, scooting her tea set to the side. He stepped back and waited.
"Could you both excuse me?" his mother requested in a voice so soft it was almost a whisper. All of the strength was once more sucked out of her, and it was only with the barest grip on her pride, Hermione knew, that the woman was holding onto her composure.
"Of course," Draco held his hand out to Hermione and she stood, taking it. "Call for Binky should you need us. We'll be… around the house."
His mother didn't reply and they quickly, but quietly made their exit. As the door closed behind them, Hermione heard the sad snuffling of Lady Malfoy's tears begin. Thankfully, they were shut off by the privacy spell that every room in the house seemed to affect when it was closed off. Tears prickled the back of Hermione's eyes, but she had no time for sadness, as Draco grabbed her hand and tugged her after him hard. He led her with apparently no specific destination in mind, and before she knew it, they were standing in the Malfoy library, a place she'd longed to visit to appease her curiosity, but thought inappropriate given the circumstances.
He drew her over to the window that looked out over the expanse of the back of the property and held her to his chest. "Someday," he whispered, and she could hear the tears in his voice. "I want all this to be yours." He looked at her, touching her cheek gently. "Would you like that, too?"
Hermione froze. Had he just asked her to marry him, in a roundabout way? Sure, he'd said twice now that he wanted her forever, but that was usually during or after they'd had sex. It was, what Ginny would say, most likely 'pillow talk' or that odd male possessiveness that men sometimes exhibited. And Draco was grieving, so he was probably speaking from that wellspring now. Would he regret asking this of her later? Would she regret replying to him as her heart wanted?
"Yes, I'd like that," she spoke honestly, praying that later he wouldn't take this moment back. She wasn't sure if he had meant it, but she knew that she did – she wanted Draco forever. "As long as you're here with me."
His beautiful, winter eyes stared into her soul, and she felt as naked and raw before him there, in that room, fully clothed in the light of day, as she had in her own room back at Hogwarts that night they'd first made love. He moved his hands behind her back, and when he pulled them around, he took her right hand in his. Before she could react, he slipped his Slytherin serpent ring onto her ring finger. "My promise to you," he offered, using his wand and shrinking it down to fit. "I'm yours, Hermione." He kissed each fingertip sweetly and then looked back at her with a sad smile. "When you're ready, give this back to me so I can replace it with something more permanent and proper - on the other hand."
It took her several long seconds to remember to breathe. Draco Malfoy had just vocally promised himself to her! In the Wizarding world, that was serious business. She stared down at the sinuous, silver metal carved in the shape of a snake, with the green emeralds for eyes that winked at her in the light, and was moved to tears again. Her sobs shook her shoulders this time, and she wrapped her arms about his neck, burying her head in the crook. "I love you," she tearfully proclaimed, feeling oddly elated during a time that should be about bereavement.
Draco chuckled sadly, nuzzling his nose in her curly hair. "Geez, Granger, I've finally taken you to the library. You're supposed to be orgasmic with rapture."
She sniffled, feeling very emotionally vulnerable right then. "Maybe later, okay?"
Capturing her lips in a sweet kiss, Draco pressed his forehead to hers. "Okay."
X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X
Guests started flooing in about an hour later. Draco and Hermione greeted them in the Drawing Room, where all floos were defaulted, and then took them into the spacious elegance of the White Ballroom, where Lady Malfoy was in attendance, and where tea was being served by Binky. All of the flower arrangements that had crowded the Drawing Room had been moved to the White Ballroom earlier and set up in a nice, prominent display to show appreciation for them.
Very soon, the forty-foot tall ceilinged room with the ornate French-style guild and elaborate wall moldings was packed with a numbers of finely dressed mourners and sympathy wishers. The 19th century Turkish, hand-woven rug was practically hidden beneath the throng of bodies.
The Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, was one of the first to arrive, followed closely after by Amelia Bones the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Ludo Bagman, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, Wilkie Twycross, the Head of the Department of Magical Transportation, Gawain Robards, the Head of the Auror Office, and Arthur Weasley, the Head of the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects. Of course, all spouses were in attendance as well.
Additionally, Bill, Percy, Charlie and George Weasley came to show their support to Hermione and Draco. And, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall and Severus Snape appeared from Hogwarts within half an hour of the Weasley men. To Draco's surprise, Harry Potter had come as well (of course, Hermione had thrown her arms about her best friend and cried in happiness to see him, which only brought with it a mild bite of jealousy, which Draco tamped down quickly, reminding himself who's promise ring his lover was wearing). He and Potter shook hands and a moment of questioning passed from the dark haired wizard. "Later," Draco said under his breath, not wanting Hermione to hear what he had to say. Potter nodded perceptively and moved off to speak with Snape.
Draco's surviving aunt, Andromeda, and her husband, Ted, came next, and they were a great comfort to his mother (who had resumed a relationship with her sister after the Dark Lord had been vanquished). His cousin, Nymphadora and her husband, Remus, and their baby, Teddy, were right behind. Draco and Remus had struck up a good rapport during the war. It had been this man, in fact, who had seconded Dumbledore's nomination for Draco's membership into the Order of the Phoenix, and that trust Draco had never forgotten. They met now to a warm clasp of hands.
A dozen of his father's business contacts and various investment partners dribbled in over the next hour, including Lord Greengrass and Lord Parkinson, and their wives, as well as a small delegation of Goblins from Gringotts, where his father's vast sum of wealth (now under his mother's and his control) had been kept all their lives (clearly, the Goblins were here only to maintain a good business relationship). Blaise's father, Angelo, who had joined in the final battle against Voldemort to protect his son, even showed up. The man had been Lucius' Housemate at school, and wanted to express his sincerest condolences to the family.
The biggest shock of the afternoon had been the appearance of Draco's reclusive, 78 year old maternal grandmother, Druella Rosier-Black, who came on the arm of the squib, Marius Black. The two had married in secret earlier in the year after the announcement of Voldemort's death (his grandmother had been a dowager since her first husband's passing in 1979, and Marius had been shunned by the rest of the Black family for his non-magical status, so this came as a huge surprise to Draco, needless to say). He'd further thought his mother would be as flatfooted as he with the appearance and the news, but it turned out that she'd known for months and was happy with the match for her lonely, elderly mother. Marius seemed a rather amicable and well-mannered man, and he doted on his new wife, that much was obvious. "Please call me Marius," the gentleman had requested, and Draco had obliged with respect.
When at last the designated time came, Mr. Wendell appeared to let them know that the walk had been cleared and a warmed bubble charm had been cast from the house all the way to the crypt for the guests. In a soothing voice, he indicated that Draco should take "the grieving widow" by the arm and lead them all for the funeral procession. Reluctantly letting Hermione go onto Potter's arm, Draco helped his mother to her feet and they took the long walk through the house together.
"Your father would be proud of you," his mother spoke to him in a low murmur as they stepped through the hallways, the sounds of hushed steps from dozens of feet behind them following. "You are a true Malfoy, my son."
It took him two tries and numerous swallows to speak. "Father would be proud of you as well, mother."
His mum sniffed, but kept her tears at bay with that discipline and strength he'd always known her to have. "I see your ring on her finger. I am greatly pleased for you both. She is an excellent woman."
A stab of pride lit his heart, lifting Draco momentarily out of the doldrums, making the march (which had now reached the back of the house and was being led out of the large, solid oak doors onto the back vista patio and down the stairs to the gravel rock path through the gardens) bearable. "Thank you. Your approval means the world to me."
With a dab of her handkerchief at the corner of an eye (the only "weak" moment his mother had shown all afternoon since the guests had started arriving), she nodded. "We shall discuss your future tomorrow."
Draco perfectly understood. His mother was telling him that she would need something to occupy her mind so she wouldn't fall into the deepest pits of depression, and planning a future engagement party would help, even if it seemed inappropriate timing for those outside the situation. She would do her mourning in private from now on. It was the Malfoy way.
They continued on in silence for another ten minutes until they reached the family crypt on the far end of the property. A miniature, Grecian-styled marble temple was built into a large hillock. It had a double-door entrance, which was currently opened up to show a large, ten foot ceilinged room with a single bier in the middle. On the bier was his father's casket. The long, black, wooden death bed was sealed shut, per his requirements (he did not want anyone to see his father's body's decay, as the spell's effects had continued for another two hours after death, he'd been told by the hospital), thus preserving his father's dignity, and his and his mother's sanities. He felt his heart clench at the sight, hit once more with the inarguable reality that his father was really dead. In that coffin lay Lucius Malfoy.
Next to him, he felt his mother come to the same realization as they both gazed at the horrid reminder. A small sob escaped her, and Draco squeezed his mother's hand under his arm to remind her of who she was, and that crying was not something they engaged in public. He knew his mother would have wanted him to do this, even though it killed something inside him to know he couldn't even be normal for a minute and grieve over his own father's coffin.
He hardly heard the words spoken by Mr. Phells, but he assumed it was the eulogy he had written and owl'd to him earlier this week. All he could see was the black rectangular box before him, his mind shutting down all emotions to keep him safe.
He wished Hermione was next to him. He wanted to touch her. He needed to.
The ceremony was over before he knew it, and he and his mother were led into the "viewing room" for a few private moments to say what they wished over the bier. Whatever words his mother had wanted to express were said in the quiet of her mind, and not spoken aloud. Draco had no thoughts of his own, except one: "Adieu, mon père."
After a few minutes, they were escorted out by Mr. Wendell and halted to the side, while Mr. Phells directed the gathered mourners into the traditional "round", leading them into the crypt on the right, allowing them a chance to lay hands or drop flowers on the casket if they wished and offer a final goodbye, then led them back out on the left. The line then passed by Draco and his mother, and more formal sympathies were offered, before the guests made their way solemnly back into the house, where they could partake of drinks and food during the reception phase.
Draco remembered shaking a multitude of hands, murmuring thanks for coming and for kind words. He remembered holding his mother up by tightening his grip on her hand under his arm and stepping closer. He remembered seeing the single flowers every person – even the goblins - placed on the coffin and wondered where they had gotten them from. But strangely, he couldn't remember a single thing said during the whole ceremony. It was as if the words were buzzing, droning things that made no sense. In the end, only Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall, Potter and his Hermione had hung back, waiting for him and his mother. Mr. Wendell explained that the casket would remain in place for three days per wizarding tradition, and on Monday afternoon, he and Mr. Phells would return to see it brought down into the bowels of the crypt into its proper alcove for permanent ensconcement. He then waved his wand and shut the double-doors, replacing the magical charms on it for locking. Then, he waited to walk behind the others, per tradition (the funeral director was always the last man out, much like his Master, Death).
Draco and his mother made the long trek back to the house then. He supported his mother by assuring his steps mirrored hers in stride and speed. Behind him, he could feel the love of his teachers, his new friend and his lover, and their strength supported him.
X~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~X
The reception was subdued, and slowly people filtered out with final goodbyes and offers to help, should the need arise. Draco courteously accepted every one with a handshake and, in some cases, a hug. Then, the exiting guests were escorted to the floo by Mr. Phells and seen out, per Draco's earlier instructions.
Dumbledore, Snape, and Potter stayed behind when the last of the guests and the funeral directors both made their exit. Draco asked his three co-conspirators to wait for him in his father's study, detailing the way from the White Ballroom to Dumbledore so they could find it themselves, while he and Hermione took his mother up to her bedroom. She was clearly exhausted, having been forced to hold her chin up under the day's emotional battering. Requesting Binky make sure his mother ate and was prepared for bed, he then kissing her on the cheek and promised to discuss things with her tomorrow. They took their leave of Narcissa as she sat, disconsolately numb on her couch, and then went towards his own bedroom.
"I'm going downstairs to say goodbye to Potter and the Headmaster. I'll be up in a while," he explained, herding her towards the tub. "Why don't you take a bath and I'll be back by the time you're finished." Hermione gave him a strange, flat look, but capitulated when he snogged her senseless and promised in a low, purposefully sultry voice to come back later and finish the kiss. He was too thoroughly exhausted to shag tonight, and hoped she'd forgive him the lie, but it was the best excuse he could make at that moment. He left her as she entered the bathroom.
Making his way back down to the study, he met with his professors and Potter behind a closed door. "Firewhiskey?" he offered as soon as he arrived in the study entrance, and everyone – even Snape – accepted the gesture. He poured four glasses and handed off three, downing the contents of his own in one pull. He'd learned how to hold his liquor after accepting the Dark Mark last year. "I think you know what I'm going to say," he began, his tone hardening, as he compartmentalized his feelings and put his 'business face' on. "I want that bitch dead. I'm going after her. Will you help?"
There was silence. Harry stepped over to him and put his glass down on the large desk that reigned supreme in the room. "I'm in."
Draco looked up at him and they locked gazes – silver on green. "You sure? Could take years."
His one-time rival nodded firmly. "I owe her for Hagrid."
"I expect you already know my feelings on this matter, Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore frowned, clearly displeased. "I cannot prevent you from doing this, legally, as you are both adults, but please allow me the time to offer you a different alternative."
"The Headmaster is right, Draco," Snape spoke reasonably. "Bellatrix is perhaps even cleverer than the Dark Lord was. She is an unpredictable and dangerous foe. There are other ways to bring her to heel if we strategically plan, instead of jumping into the fire so quickly."
Draco looked between the two professors, his ire turning to cold lead in his stomach. "And what do you suggest? Wait around until she decides to come back and finish the job on my mother? Or shall I send her off into hiding again, away from her home while she's in the middle of grieving the only man she ever loved?" He shook his head firmly. "No, she's suffered enough."
"I will add my own wards over the fine job you have already done here, Draco," Dumbledore offered. "I guarantee no Death Eater will be able to enter your home again. Your mother will be safe. There is no reason to act so rash."
Draco almost lost it. "Rash? She knows the Unmentionables! And yesterday, I received this." He tossed a rumpled wad of paper from his pocket onto the desk. He'd received the letter by owl in the early afternoon when Hermione was not around; it was the primary reason he'd gone out to recheck the wards around his home. Harry picked the note up and smoothed it out, reading. When he was finished, his eyes widened and his face became a mask of fury. "She's going after the families. She knows you don't have anyone left, Potter, so she's promised that the Weasleys and Grangers are next. Then the teachers at Hogwarts. She's going to kill everyone systematically to make you and I suffer for killing her beloved bedmate. Then she'll come for us. She's fucking insane."
Without a word, Harry handed the note off to Dumbledore. Snape read it over his shoulder. Their faces were grim. "May I keep this?" the Headmaster requested, and Draco nodded and waved it away with disgust. Folding the note up, it disappeared into Dumbledore's robes. "We will alert the other families and the Aurors, and prepare ourselves. I will summon the Order members to the castle for a meeting tomorrow. This concerns all of us."
"And what of Hermione's family?" Draco asked coldly. "They're Muggles. We should place them in hiding again immediately."
"I've already seen to it."
All four men whirled to find Hermione in the doorway, her face set and determined.
"Earlier this week, while you were busy with legal business, I sent my parents a note by using one of the owls from your Aviary," she explained. "They've already left for Australia again, and resumed their former aliases. I sent Binky to make sure they were safe and comfortable yesterday, when your mother and I took a break from touring the house. It only took her a few minutes, since house elves can pop in and out of the wards easily. My parents are lying low right now, waiting for instructions."
Draco's jaw dropped open, literally.
Hermione gave him an amused smile. "Did you really think I hadn't thought of this? Or that I'd not know you'd try to go after Bellatrix yourself? Why do you think I ran to find you at the hospital?" While his defenses were still reeling, she stepped into the room fully and came to his side. "Whatever you think you're going to do, Draco, we'll plan it out together. If you think for a second I'm letting you go off half-cocked or alone, you obviously don't know me." She touched his chin and literally closed his gaping mouth.
"You're supposed to be taking a bath," he growled, not knowing what else to say. His brain was totally on overload at the moment. The day had been a long, difficult one, and now this…
Grinning impishly, she scooting herself up onto the desk next to him, letting her legs hang down, and leaned back on her hands. "I may be your intended now, Malfoy, but I still don't plan on letting you boss me around." She turned to the others (who seemed just as astounded as Draco by Hermione's calculated daring - which reflected a perfect combination of Gryffindor and Slytherin antics, he wryly noted). "So… what do we know?"
Dumbledore provided information that had come from the Ministry about the breakout – all of the Death Eaters, minus Gregory Goyle (who had chosen to stay in his cell, for fear of getting caught and making his five-year sentence worse) had made their escape. The Aurors (who were out in force, and who were working with Aurors from the Asian, American, and African Ministries) had already recaptured Avery Sr., Crabbe Sr., Jugson, Travers, Goyle Sr., Yaxley, Mulciber, Gibbon, Rookwood, Selwyn, and Rosier Sr. That left Bellatrix, Rodolphus Lestrange, Avery Jr., Dolohov, Rowle, the Carrow siblings, and Macnair.
"Sir," Hermione addressed the Headmaster, fingering the two chains around her neck. She pulled on one of them now and yanked the Time-Turner out of her shirt. "I knew to come down here earlier because it buzzed me. But there's no heat. I'm confused as to whether it's telling me to use it or not, and if so, I don't know what I'm supposed to fix."
Snape and Harry both drew in breaths of recognition at the device in her hands. Draco was weary of the thing, honestly. Messing with time was one of the big no-nos in the wizarding universe, which why was these devices were all collected (minus this one, apparently) and locked away in the Department of Mysteries (where, he'd heard, they'd all been destroyed during Potter's little battle there against his father and the other Death Eaters last year).
Dumbledore crossed to her and took the magical pendant between his fingers, his brow drawn down in confusion. This was the first time Draco had ever seen the man not look completely assured about something magical. "Odd," was all the Headmaster said for long moments, carefully maneuvering the item around. "May I test something, Miss Granger?" he asked and she automatically nodded, trusting their professor without question.
Before Draco could open his mouth to issue a warning, Dumbledore activated the Time-Turner with a twist and a spin. To his immense relief, nothing happened. At least not immediately.
Within half a minute, Hermione's breathing picked up and she suddenly grabbed her head. In her increased state of anxiety, she began unconsciously projecting her thoughts throughout the room, and what Draco saw was quite disturbing: images of the final battle at Riddle Manor, blood and bodies everywhere lying inert, most unconscious, some dead. She was kneeling over Dobby the house elf, his small shoulder crushed, two large puncture wounds leaving the grey-brown flesh gaping open and pouring blood and something else – some venom that was foaming and white. He was clearly dead. "STOP IT!" she screamed and shut her eyes. She shook her head, and another vision flashed: Dumbledore's familiar – the Phoenix, Fawkes - screaming a war cry, diving towards Voldemort's head, distracting him long enough for Harry to stab upwards with Gryffindor's sword in hand, his aim true. Riddle struck with some unknown spell at that exact moment, and the fiery bird fell next to Dobby, tears flowing from the phoenix's dark, mystical eyes as they closed for the last time, his sacrifice a noble one.
Draco shook Dumbledore off angrily and grabbed Hermione to him as she sobbed uncontrollably. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she mumbled, anguished.
Nuzzling his cheek next to hers, he shushed her softly. "I'm here, baby. It was just a memory. It's all right." It took five minutes, some tender kisses on her temple and forehead, and gentle rubbing on her back to calm her down. No one else in the room spoke during that time, seemingly to hold their breaths in dreadful anticipation of Draco's fury to be unleashed.
"I'm okay now," Hermione sniffled and wiped at her eyes.
"Miss Granger, I hate to ask," Dumbledore softly inquired, stepping in close, despite Draco's warning growl. "But can you describe what the Time-Turner just did to you?"
Beneath his hands, his lover's body shuddered, but her back stiffened with resolve. "It… I felt like I was there again. At the final battle, reliving the moment. I could… e-even s-s-smell the blood." She shivered fiercely, and Draco wrapped his arms tighter about her, offering comfort. "But… I knew I wasn't really there because I could vaguely see all of you still." She struggled with an idea, biting her lip. "It was like I was both there and here at the same time."
Dumbledore looked over at Snape with a raised eyebrow. "I'm no expert on the mathematics of space-time theory – that is more Madam Vector's field - but it sounds like some sort of… displacement in time," Severus offered hesitantly, his eyes narrowed in consideration.
The Headmaster nodded in agreement. "Yes, yes, most assuredly." Piercing blue eyes stared hard at the device lying inert across Hermione's breast. "It would seem… the device is malfunctioning. I think it best to give it to me, Miss Granger. It may be dangerous."
She nodded and Draco stepped back to give her room to maneuver. She slipped the necklace over her head and handed it over to the Professor. She seemed almost reluctant to let the thing go, however, a curious expression of confusion on her face. "I…" she began, but stopped herself, shook her head and released the necklace into Dumbledore's hand.
Harry was at her side in an instant. "You okay, 'Mione?" he asked, carefully placing a hand on her shoulder.
She nodded, leaning her cheek up against Draco's chest. "I'll be fine, Harry."
"I think it prudent to alert the Order members immediately of Miss Lestrange's note," Dumbledore hurried to the door, holding the Time-Turner carefully between his aged hands. "We will discuss further plans for dealing with her tomorrow." At the oaken panel, he stopped and turned back with a serious frown. "Until then, I ask that you please do not act. I realize your thirst for revenge is powerful, Mr. Malfoy, but there are others things to consider now." He looked down at the Time-Turner again and his white brow creased in concern. "I think it best we hold off on making any sort of movement until we have had time to better formulate our plans." He turned to Harry and Snape. "We should go now and allow the family their rest."
Severus and Harry moved to join Dumbledore, who gave a questioning glance to Hermione. She merely shook her head and pressed in closer to Draco, and the Headmaster nodded, his all-knowing gaze making Draco actually blush.
"I'll contact you tomorrow evening, Mr. Malfoy. Please convey again my deepest condolences to your mother," the old, tired wizard nodded and then left.
"See you tomorrow, 'Mione, Malfoy," Harry bid them goodnight and followed his mentor.
Snape paused for a moment at the door, his eyes drawn to Hermione's right hand. The slightest smirk turned up one corner of his lips, and then he looked at Draco with approval. "Goodnight, godson. Miss Granger." He left in a flutter of black robes.
He and Hermione made sure the floo was secured in the Drawing Room before heading up to Draco's bedroom, hand in hand, warily dragging each other to the bed. In a flurry of removed clothes, with no thought to bathing or brushing teeth – they were both that tired – they huddled under the covers together in his large bed, holding on tightly.
"Thank you for today," he murmured to her, with a deep, bone weary sigh. "I'm glad you were here. And that you came to the meeting tonight."
Against his chest, Hermione yawned. "Thank you for not shutting me out."
With a weak chuckle, Draco kissed her curly head. "Not like I could have done a damned thing to stop you, tricky witch."
She was already asleep, however, and missed his playful come back. Shutting his eyes, Draco drifted off to sleep to the sweet, calming scent of honey, cinnamon and amber – Hermione's scent – pervading his overly exhausted senses. This horrible day was finally over.
AUTHOR'S NOTES:
- Signora = Italian for "Madam/M'am/Mrs."
- For the record, Marius Black was Druella Rosier-Black's former husband's father's brother. She was not related to him except by marriage originally, but her first husband (Cygnus Black) died in 1979, leaving her widowed and no longer technically part of the Black family except in name. I invented Marius' marriage to Druella for this fic, though, as JKR doesn't ever mention either of them in her books except as part of the Black family lineage tree.
- To see a picture of the White Ballroom at Malfoy Manor, go here: http:/s905(dot)photobucket(dot)com / albums / ac260 / RZZMG / Us%20After%20This / (Remember to replace "(dot)" with "." and remove all spaces from that URL for it to work).
- Wow… did you know that Harry Potter is related to many of the characters in the series? Check this out - Harry's grandmother was Dorea Black-Potter, who married Charlus Potter. In terms of connections from that union, Harry is related to:
The Blacks (specifically, Sirius II and Regulus II Black, are Harry Potter's third cousins; Sirius II is also Harry Potter's godfather, and was his father, James' best mate)
The Lestranges (Bellatrix Black-Lestrange was Harry Potter's second cousin)
The Malfoys (Narcissa Black-Malfoy is Harry Potter's second cousin. Her son, Draco Malfoy, is Harry Potter's third cousin. His son, Scorpius Malfoy, is Harry Potter's fourth cousin)
The Tonks' (Andromeda Black-Tonks is Harry Potter's second cousin. Her daughter, Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin, is Harry Potter's third cousin. Her son, Teddy Lupin, is Harry Potter's fourth cousin)
The Weasleys (Arthur Weasley is Harry Potter's second cousin. His seven children – Bill, Charlie, Percy, George, Fred, Ron, Ginerva – are all Harry Potter's third cousins. Bill Weasley's children – Victorie, Dominique, Louis & Percy Weasley's children – Molly II, Lucy & George Weasley's children – Fred Jr., Roxanne & Ronald Weasley's children – Rose, Hugo – are all Harry Potter's fourth cousins. Harry married Ginerva "Ginny" Weasley, his third cousin)
The Prewetts (Dorea Black, Harry's grandmother, was second cousins with Lucretia Black, who married Ignatius Prewett. Aside: Ignatius Prewett is Molly Prewett-Weasley's uncle)
The Flints (Dorea Black, Harry's grandmother, was the granddaughter of Nigellus Black & Ursula Flint)
The Bulstrodes (Dorea Black, Harry's grandmother, was the daughter of Cygnus Black I & Violetta Bulstrode)
The Crabbes (Dorea Black, Harry's grandmother, was sister to Pollux Black, who married Irma Crabbe)
The Rosiers (Dorea Black, Harry's grandmother, was the aunt of Cygnus Black II, and he married Druella Rosier)
The Crouches (Dorea Black, Harry's grandmother, was first cousins with Charis Black-Crouch who married Caspar Crouch)
The Macmillans (Dorea Black, Harry's grandmother, was first cousins with Arcturus Black II, who married Melania Macmillan-Black)
The Longbottoms (Dorea Black, Harry's grandmother, was first cousins with Callidora Black-Longbottom, who married Harfang Longbottom)
The Yaxleys (Dorea Black, Harry's grandmother, was the niece of Arcturus Black I, who married Lysandra Yaxley-Black)
The Greengrasses (Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter's third cousin, married Astoria Greengrass-Malfoy, making her Harry's third cousin-in-law.)
The Lupins (Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin, Harry Potter's third cousin, married Remus Lupin, making him Harry's third cousin-in-law)
The Delacoeurs (Bill Weasley, Harry Potter's third cousin, married Fleur Delacoeur-Weasley, making her Harry's third cousin-in-law.)
The Johnsons (George Weasley, Harry Potter's third cousin, married Angelina Johnson-Weasley, making her Harry's third cousin-in-law.)
Whatever family Percy's wife Audrey is from (Percy Weasley, Harry Potter's third cousin, married a woman named Audrey Weasley, whose original family lineage is not know. She is Harry's third cousin-in-law.)
The Grangers (Ronald Weasley, Harry Potter's third cousin, married Hermione Granger-Weasley, making her Harry's third cousin-in-law.)
Also, that means that Draco is related to most of those people as well. That messes with your head. You can see the known lineage charts at the Harry Potter Wikipedia site. Interesting!