Chapter 2

Convincing his mother to owl him an ancient Black family grimoire had almost been impossible. There was little need for him to ask, as a Malfoy he had his own with any information relevant to his needs and to any need that could arise. Of course, it was always assumed that spells and rituals to do with family magic weren't necessary for a male family member. Mothers usually passed on the family magic to their children and they were the ones to coach their children through claiming it. Draco had almost had to out Hermione to convince her, but eventually, after explaining that a friend was struggling and that he wanted to help, she sent him copies of the spells, recipes and rituals he would need.

Hermione had been secretly gathering components, at least the ones that were more personal. Draco hadn't been too keen on collecting one particularly odd component. Hermione had to draw a bath, infuse it with a multitude of ingredients and bathe herself in it for no less than 30 minutes and no more than 35. What the actual process of it was Draco wasn't too keen on finding out, as imagining any woman bathing was very uncomfortable for him.

They'd met in the library almost every night, and with Harry so distracted by Professor Umbridge, they hadn't been found out. It hadn't even been a week, but Hermione's symptoms had taken a dramatic turn for the worse. More than once Draco had given her his handkerchief to wipe some blood from her nose, which she kept dismissing as stress induced, despite it being one of the symptoms in his mother's notes.

'We're running out of time Hermione, we already have everything we need.' Draco whispered to her, trying to avoid attracting the attention of several ravenclaw students several shelves over. 'We have more than everything we need. You need to make a decision. You're getting sicker by the day, you told me yourself that Madam Pomfrey wanted to admit you to the hospital wing. I doubt we have another day to wait.'

'If I do this...' She began, hesitating slightly. 'If I do this and it turns out you're right, it means nothing about my parents is real. It would be like telling you in your first year that your father was really a house elf.'

'I wouldn't have believed you.' Draco shrugged, smiling slightly. 'But I understand that fear, I've had very little affection from my father for a long time. Sometimes I wonder if the man I remember from my childhood was ever real. But even if he wasn't, it doesn't change the fact that his love and support helped shape me as a person, artificial or not.'

'I guess it's different because I'm muggleborn.' Hermione shook her head, staring down at her shoes. 'Or at least I was raised muggleborn. Things are tangible and simple, either something is right or it isn't, something is real or it isn't. Here, I could watch my mother walk these halls, I could touch her face and hear her voice, but it wouldn't really be her, because there's no way for a muggle to enter Hogwarts.'

'Is that such a bad thing?' Draco asked. He gently tucked her hair behind her ear so that he could see her face. 'In our world, they can still be your parents, they can still love you, whether I'm right or not.'

'It will never feel real to me.' Hermione pouted slightly, sighing. 'But I can't avoid it anymore. It may be brave to endure this pain for the sake of my family, but it's cowardly to avoid the truth, and I am not a coward.' Hermione squared her shoulders and met Draco's gaze. 'We're doing this tonight.'

'Whatever happens Hermione, it'll be okay.' Draco reassured her. 'No matter what you learn, or how much it hurts, it will be okay.'

Hermione nodded, taking in a deep breath. 'I hope so.'

...

They met in the early hours of the morning on the quidditch pitch, since Filch rarely went that far out on the grounds to search for rule breaking students. Hermione could probably have named ten other places but Draco had insisted and Hermione had given in. Draco had also insisted that he take care of some of the ingredients and that Hermione deal with hers. Being the cauldron full of what amounted to bath soup.

'If we give off any light out here, we're done for.' Hermione grumbled. 'We should have done this in the first floor bathroom.'

Draco snorted. 'Yes, because I want to be caught casting a spell on a muggleborn in a toilet.'

'No less shady than out here.' Hermione rolled her eyes, pulling her coat tight across her chest. 'I want you to tell me the truth, have you been pulling this ploy to somehow sacrifice my soul to some scary pureblood demon god?'

'Scary pureblood demon god?' Draco repeated, a smile on his face.

'I'm trying to be somewhat serious here.' Hermione asserted, huffing slightly. 'Were you telling me the truth?'

Draco dropped his smile and walked over to Hermione, standing a single step away from her. 'Yes.' He said softly. 'I told you the truth.'

'Good.' Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. 'Let's get started. The sooner this is over the sooner I can be warm again.'

'Go get your potion ready Granger.' Draco smiled, turning to continue painting runes on the ground in the centre of the pitch.

'It's soup Malfoy.' Hermione huffed, picking the cauldron back up. Her arms were already aching from carrying it down from Gryffindor Tower.

'You could have cast a levitation charm on it.' Draco smirked to himself, grinning wider as Hermione began muttering curses.

When the runes were complete and the cauldron was in the centre of them, bubbling away, Draco pulled back out the pages of parchment his mother had sent. He leafed through a few until he found the very long and very complicated spell he remembered his mother casting on him a few months before.

'Are you sure you want to do this?' Draco said seriously, hesitating to raise his wand.

'Not at all.' Hermione shook her head, taking a deep shaky breath. She looked up and met eyes with Draco, a steel in them he hadn't seen in months. 'Do it.'

Draco took one last breath and lifted his wand, holding the parchment up to be sure he was reciting the spell correctly. He poured all of his concentration into it as his chanting became louder and his wand movements more confident, internally cursing the bright light the cauldron was expelling.

Hermione turned her head to see lights beginning to illuminate the castle windows, moving closer and closer to the clocktower, and them. She wanted to run, to sprint away, but she stayed rooted in place, waiting for her turn to complete the spell.

Draco's chanting became even louder, his eyes seeming to cloud over as he neared the end of the spell, sweat building up on his brow. 'Now Hermione.' He yelled, trying to hold onto the magic he'd produced as long as he could.

With a hesitant nod, Hermione withdrew her own wand and cut her palm, squeezing her hand tight in a fist over the cauldron. One. Two. Three drops of blood dropped into the cauldron and she quickly snatched her hand back, watching as the light turned red.

Draco held Hermione's closed fist tight as he began the binding spell, the red light drawing itself into her. Their eyes were locked the entire time, both scared to even blink. They could hear footsteps echoing across the wooden bridge, voices carried with them. Panic rising within them, Draco began chanting faster and quieter, barely taking pause to breathe. Hermione couldn't breathe either as the red light consumed her completely, sinking deep into her skin. She didn't know what magic she was claiming, but the feeling was exhilarating. She felt more alive than she had before the summer started, her ears buzzing.

With the spell complete Draco quickly pulled a vial from his pocket, taking some of the cauldron's contents and stoppering it.

The vial was barely back in his pocket when arms were around them both and a sheet thrown over their heads. Draco almost panicked, turning to see who'd found them, and then he did.

'Potter.' He hissed, trying to break away from him.

Hermione however held Draco in place, banishing the cauldron and papers to her bed where her roommates hopefully wouldn't notice. 'We need to be quiet. They can't see us.'

'Move quickly and as close to us as you can.' Harry ordered Draco, leading him down one of the tunnels that lead to the changing rooms and out of the way of the teachers pouring onto the field. They waited until the coast was clear enough and headed back along the bridge and through several secret passageways until they made it to the seventh floor and through a door that materialised out of thin air.

Harry ripped the cloak off of them all, pacing away for a moment. 'What the hell did I just watch?' He demanded, panic in his eyes. 'When Ron said you might have a secret boyfriend, I didn't believe him, let alone think it was Malfoy.'

'I'm not her boyfriend Potter.' Draco rolled his eyes. 'We were doing a binding spell.'

'One to keep my magic from fading.' Hermione elaborated, though Harry's eyes stayed wide and alarmed.

'What are you even talking about?' Harry demanded, dropping the cloak to the ground.

'I'm more interested in this glorified sheet of yours.' Draco countered, crossing his arms.

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Draco, her expression incredulous.

Draco groaned at Hermione before turning his attention to Harry. 'I'm sure you're somewhat familiar with family magic given you're a parselmouth.'

Harry simply raised an eyebrow, a blank look on his face.

'Your father was a pureblood, correct?' Draco asked, feeling rather impatient. 'Family magic is passed on from generation to generation at the moment of conception. If only one of your parents has family magic, that is what is passed on, but if it's both then the magic inside of the mother burns the father's out during pregnancy and the family magic that remains supports your magical core. That magic begins burning out from the second you're born and you have a timer waiting for you to claim it.'

'And you think Hermione has family magic?' Harry asked, his arms crossed and his eyes angry.

Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder. 'There's no 'think' anymore. It's not just speculation. The ritual worked.'

'But your parents are muggles.' Harry objected, turning his attention to Hermione.

'I found adoption papers.' Hermione said quietly. 'But they're convinced I'm their flesh and blood.'

Harry nodded, taking one of Hermione's hands into his. He gulped hesitantly and took a deep breath. 'If they're not your parents, then who are?'

'That's the problem, Potter,' Draco cut in. 'We don't know.'