Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It and any characters from the franchise that may appear in this fanfiction are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling. This story was written for entertainment purposes only and no profit is made from this story.

Author's note: Can't believe I just wrote and uploaded two chapters in two days, but here goes. I am honestly so excited to start writing fourth year and onwards, I have some of the parts already written. What usually annoys me in most time-travel fics is that the protagonist is so overpowered from the beginning and changes get made too fast, so I am trying to take it more slowly. Show Draco's Slytherin cunning if you will, even if he can't plan for everything and some things are always meant to happen. Hope you are all enjoying it as much as I am so far. Love, Naiad.

The Hospital Wing was pure and utter chaos. Mrs. Weasley was screaming at Professor McGonagall that it was unheard of that a bunch of 11-year-old children fought You-Know-Who and that no one but said children had even noticed something was off with the Professor during the entire year.

His godfather who'd entered the room not so long ago to establish what had happened, coughed slightly. "Of course, Severus, I knew you had your concerns, but the Deputy Headmistress and the Headmaster-" Molly continued as Draco moved his chair closer to Harry's bed, falling into the Muffliato Charm that Madam Pomfrey had cast around both Harry and Ron's bed after none of the adults would listen to her when she told them to keep their traps shut so her patients could rest.

Hermione was sitting on Harry's other side, together with Nevile who was positioned between Harry's and Ron's bed. All three of the boys were fast asleep as Hermione was waiting for the adults to take a breather and calm down.

"How did Mrs. Weasley even show up that fast? And how does she have enough air in her lungs to keep going on such a long tirade," Hermione wondered out loud as she absentmindedly stirred a spoon in her hot chocolate just by moving her finger in a circle.

Draco was sipping a cup of black tea with some milk and honey and smirked behind his teacup as he drank. The last time around, no one had known what exactly happened at Hogwarts. Merlin, even he as a child attending the school didn't know that actual Voldemort had been possessing Quirrel until he connected the dots earlier tonight. No one had known about the Basilisk, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew or Barty Crouch Jr. either. Let's not even get started on Umbridge's tyranny or a teenager succeeding in getting actual Death Eaters through the wards. The Headmaster wanted to keep everything under wraps, act as if everything was perfectly fine and that Hogwarts was perfectly safe. Foolishness. If what Deandra suspected was true, and it probably was, then Harry would need to be the one to kill the Dark Lord. Keeping him hidden and letting no other actual adults know of the dangers which lurked in the castle every year was a bad move. They needed to be prepared. Even if children might still have to fight in this war, at least they needed to know what was coming for them. They needed to be trained. And if the adults wouldn't, then he would.

The first step was to get the Weasley matriarch involved. She loved her children fiercely, and one short anonymous letter written while he excused himself to the bathroom, had set all of this in motion. Dobby never questioned his motives, and would never tell, that his master had ordered him to conjure the letter on the Weasleys' nightstand stating that their son had been injured at school because of a trap laid for You-Know-Who. Even if Molly Weasley had been proud of her son, she'd also done some yelling at all the Professors currently present.

"She's right to be angry," Draco said quietly, putting his cup of tea on the nightstand next to Harry. As expected, he would be fine after a good night's rest. His magical core was drained, and he probably would not be allowed to cast any spells for a week or so, but otherwise he was in perfect health. "If Harry's parents were alive an investigation would have been started right after his broom was cursed at the Quidditch game. Yet, Dumbledore didn't do anything. No one notified Sirius, not even Harry himself." That had been an oversight on Draco's part. He'd miscalculated the boy's reluctance to expect and accept help from the actual adults in his life, so he hadn't mentioned the match to either Sirius or Remus.

"Would you like to go to your dorms, dears?" Madam Pomfrey said as she popped her head into the protective silenced bubble of peace. "I will keep an eye on the boys. Mr. Longbottom can stay the night here, since he's already fast asleep."

Hermione and Draco nodded their thanks at the mediwitch and got up quietly before being bombarded with more of Molly Weasley's yelling. Even the gentle Arthur seemed mad. When he noticed them trying to leave the Hospital Wing, he smiled at them and came over. "Let me accompany you two to the dungeons, you shouldn't be wandering the halls alone. Especially not tonight."

The two children accepted his offer and as they walked to the dungeons, Mr. Weasley told them it was foolish, but also very courageous of them to attempt to stop a thief. To stop You-Know-Who. He was glad the five of them had had each other to get through this night and smiled encouragingly when they arrived at the entrance to the Slytherin common room.

Right before they walked through the stone walls, Arthur spoke up again. "I'm sorry about Ron's behaviour. I'm sorry to the both of you," he said, stopping them in their tracks. "I fear much of that is my fault. Me and your father, Mr. Malfoy, we don't exactly see eye to eye. Ron has always been very stubborn, set in his ways like his mother. To him, Slytherin and all Slytherins are to be mistrusted. In addition, I think he expected to be spending this year with the Boy-Who-Lived in his dorm, becoming fast friends. The fact that a Malfoy became his best friend instead, well… I'll keep an eye on him and talk to him when needed, but I am also a very firm believer that children should be allowed to make their own mistakes and grow on their own. What happened to Miss Granger was unacceptable, however. I won't have any more of that nonsense."

Hermione thanked Mr. Weasley profusely, and Draco was impressed by the older man's speech as he thanked him.

"If anything, I hope tonight taught him that there is some Gryffindor courageousness hiding in all of you as well," Mr. Weasley smiled right before the children went into their common room.

As soon as they walked in, they were almost tackled to the floor by Daphne and Blaise who had stayed up, worried when their friends had suddenly run off a few hours earlier.

"Hermione, what happened?" Daphne asked. "At first you guys were just going to go to Professor Snape, but you never came back to the common room. I was so worried!"

They all sat in front of the fireplace, blankets draped around them as Draco and Hermione explained what had happened. How they'd expected all along that Quirrel was up to something, but that both the Headmaster and Professor Snape had been indisposed.

"You're a bloody nutter," Blaise sighed. "If I didn't know any better, I would think you two should've been sorted into Gryffindork, going into something like that blindly."

"Please don't make it look like I stooped down to their level," Draco said, faking hurt, laughing. "It might have been stupid, but what else could we do? Give the Dark Lord a chance to return?"

Daphne shivered. The Greengrasses had always been a neutral, grey family. They had never positioned themselves on the side of the light or the dark. They chose what was in their best interests. And Lord Greengrass had always known that whatever Voldemort was up to, was definitely not in his best interests. Draco wished his father had more of that mentality.

"I suppose not," she whispered. "I don't want to imagine what it would be like, if he returned. If… If he'd win the war."

Draco sincerely hoped she'd never have to see. That none of them would. But after tonight, he was sure that he would return. Because only then, Harry would be able to kill him and fulfil the prophecy… He should get rid of that one this time. Set his father up to fail from the beginning, if that particular thread of fate was supposed to happen again. Maybe a trip to the Department of Mysteries would be necessary? If he went with Harry and Lord Black, they would have to grant them access. No one but the unspeakables would know…

Blaise cast a tempus charm, noticing it was getting late, and suggested they should all go to bed. Daphne agreed and stood to get up with him, but Hermione kept sitting on the couch. "I don't know if I can sleep right now," she admitted. "Perhaps I'll sit here a bit and read."

Daphne looked unsure to leave her friend alone.

"I'll stay with her," Draco mouthed to his friends, as they nodded solemnly and walked back to their dorms, looking back one last time before they disappeared into the darkness.

Draco got up from the armchair he was sitting in and put himself on the couch next to Hermione, putting his feet on the coffee stand in front of him. He opened his arms wide and raised an eyebrow at her. She didn't need to be told twice as she scooted over, crawled into his side, her feet tucked under her. He pulled her closer to him, hugging her, and put his blanket around the two of them as they stared into the fire.

"I was so scared," she whispered. "When he knew I was lying and cast that spell at me… If you hadn't saved me, I might have snapped my neck just from the sheer force of being thrown back into the wall."

Happy that their tea and hot chocolate had been laced with calming draught by Madam Pomfrey, Draco rubbed soothing circles on her shoulder as she started crying slightly. It was true. It had been a close call. If that damned mirror hadn't distracted him so much, he might have been able to prevent it. But, he'd saved her. That was what was most important. It still surprised him how strong the bond was, that his magic would react on its own accord and lash out just to save her.

"What do you think that mirror was?" Draco asked her quietly. "What did you see?"

Hermione rubbed her tears and put her head down on his shoulder, closing her eyes. "I remember it said on the top that it was called the Mirror of Erised," she said.

"The Mirror of Desire," Deandra said. "It shows you your greatest desire. It has made many a witch and wizard go mad. To have something like that in the castle is…" She didn't need to explain further.

"Erised," Draco said. "That's desire spelled backwards. You don't suppose?"

"It makes sense," Hermione agreed. "If I compare it with what I saw."

Trying to lighten the mood, Draco joked: "Wait? You told Voldemort that you saw yourself as headgirl. That wasn't your deepest desire? Miss Dagworth-Granger, Professor Snape and Deputy Headmistress McGonagall will be so displeased with you! They are probably already planning to give you that title in six years. It will come as a shock to them when I tell them that-"

She elbowed him in the ribs slightly and laughed. "Prat."

"Whatever I saw, it can never be," she stated. "Which is fine. Not all dreams have to come true, right?"

Draco looked down at her. She was right. Not every dream came true. But he'd try. He'd make sure all of hers came true, even if it was the last thing he did.

"I suppose so," he stated. What he'd seen in the mirror definitely wouldn't come true. Even if they were best friends, there was always a chance she would choose another. He had changed so much. Perhaps her feelings for him would turn into something different. Perhaps she'd see him like a brother, just like she did Harry.

Feeling the mood had shifted, he supposed he should try and provide an explanation to Hermione when she asked him about his feelings. He'd talked it over with Deandra earlier that night when they were sitting beside Harry's bed, watching as Madam Pomfrey waved her wand over his tiny body.

"You asked me earlier, about how you could feel what I feel sometimes. If it's the family magic?"

Hermione sat up straighter, looking up at him. Her brown eyes pleading him to explain.

"It is, but it isn't," he began. "Honestly, it's hard to explain. Even I don't really know what it means. Some witches and wizards are very attuned to each other's magic. It often occurs very naturally in families. It's like how parents learn to understand what their baby needs when it's crying. You just know. I'm sure you have learned to read Harry's feelings as well during the past year?"

This was how he was going to spin it. They were technically a family through the adopted bloodline of Armand and Celeste Malfoy. Even if that would make their magic more familiar, it wouldn't be this familiar. She knew what he was feeling because magic knew they were married, that they would aid each other in their time of need. Bringing Harry into the mix would show her that the familial bond was strong. She saw him as a brother, and he knew that she could feel Harry. Just not as well as she could feel him. Not as well as he could feel her feelings.

"I do," Hermione admitted. "But it's not as strong as with you. Is it because of our ancestors?"

Clever girl. Always making the right connections. Even if this time, it was based on half-truths.

"I think so," Draco said. "I feel your emotions quite strongly as well, as I do Harry's. But I think it is because the two of you haven't learnt occlumency like most pureblood heirs have. Your thoughts and feelings aren't as protected or clouded as mine."

The brunette moved her head again, frustrated. Her hair tickled his cheek. "When you first told me about occlumency, I didn't really see the advantages," she admitted. "I thought one needed eye-contact. That I would feel if my mind was being intruded. That I could stop it by looking away. Also, what could possibly be so interesting to look at in the mind of a 12-year-old girl? But Voldemort entered my mind and saw my thoughts without proper eye-contact. I didn't feel a thing."

"He is a master Legilimens, just like Dumbledore and Professor Snape," Draco said.

"The Headmaster is a Legilimens?" Hermione gasped. "But if he can intrude thoughts in the same way, then-"

"It's a useful skill to have in times of war, 'Mione," he soothed her. Good. The seed he'd put that the Headmaster wasn't always as high and mighty as he seemed, or even as honest as one would believe, was planted. He wanted her to be more independent this time around. Not have her thoughts be clouded by her admiration of authority figures. The sooner she learned to think for herself, the better. That was when she truly shined.

"Will you teach me? Me and Harry? During summer?" she asked quietly. "I don't want to be vulnerable anymore."

"Of course, anything for you, 'Mione," he said, kissing the top of her head. "I'll buy you a whole library of books on the art of occlumency if you'd like?"

She laughed against his side, and Draco could suddenly feel her wand vibrate. Why did she put an alarm in the middle of the night?

Hermione sat up, took her wand and cast a tempus charm. It read twelve o'clock at night. Draco raised an eyebrow at her.

"Happy birthday, Draco," she said, hugging him tightly. "Thank you for being such a good friend to me and Harry!"

His birthday. He'd completely forgotten about that. How old was he now? Twelve? Nineteen? Honestly, being a small little runt again with his adult memories was just confusing.

"Silly witch," Draco answered as he hugged her back. "What were you planning on doing with that alarm anyway? The boy's dorms are off limits if you were planning to burst in together with the girls just to wish me a happy birthday."

Hermione let go of him and smirked. "You're right that the girls' dorms are warded against you boys," she agreed. "But the boys' dorms aren't warded at all. We actually had a whole party planned for you here in the common room, that's why Daphne and Blaise were up still and probably wondering what had happened."

The boys' dorms aren't warded? he thought in surprise. Now that he thought about it, that one time they were talking to Dobby, Hermione had also barged into their dorm. He was too preoccupied with other things to realize that she shouldn't have been able to do that. Thank Merlin he and his dormmates didn't know about that when they were a bunch of horny teenagers in fifth and sixth year the first time around. Maybe it was best the others wouldn't learn of that either. What kind of idiot had thought it was a good idea to not ward the boys' dorms in a school filled with teenagers?

"Let's just hold the party tomorrow night," he answered Hermione. "And please don't tell anyone that you figured out the boys' dorms aren't warded against witches… If the older years hear about that, well…"

Hermione suddenly blinked at him and a red blush spread across her cheeks. Ah, her young innocence was showing. It reminded him of how much of a child she still was.

"I- I suppose I shouldn't," she stammered, still red in the face as she put her head back on his shoulders.

"How did you know about the wards anyway?" he asked, wondering what book she'd picked up now to get that information. He hoped it was in something quite obscure, he didn't need others finding out about that.

"Oh. I asked Bill Weasley for some books on warding and how to see if wards were active or not, or defensive or offensive. I'm thinking of taking runes and arithmancy in third year, you see. I was practicing in the girls' dorm and saw the ward. I remembered running into your dorm and was wondering if it perhaps was only active at night and tried to make my way around the common rooms to see if I could find any more, since most of Hogwarts is warded. But when I passed the boys' dorms, well… nothing showed up."

Of course, her over eagerness to study had led her to discovering something no one else knew about. Well, there would be many more of those to come. He wondered how long it would take her this time to come up with the undetectable extension charm on her beaded bag…

They were quiet for a while, and right as he was about to suggest they should head back to their dorms, he could feel her weight settling into his, her breathing slowing. He waved his wand, making the couch slightly larger so she would be more comfortable, and conjured an extra blanked which he magically draped around her. As he looked at her sleeping form, a memory tugged at his mind of that one night after they were doing research in the Room of Requirement, and she'd fallen asleep next to him, a book spread out on her chest, her wand stuck in her messy bun. He never thought he'd get experience such a pure and peaceful moment with her again. But here it was. Maybe his 'Mione wasn't completely gone after all…

- June 8th, 1992 –

In the end, it took Harry well over three days to "sleep it off" and for his magical core to refill and stabilize. Sirius and Remus had shown up the morning after their expedition to save the world from Quirrelmort and a new round of yelling ensued. Lady Longbottom had showed up too and been extremely proud, but also disappointed to learn her grandson had accidentally snapped his father's wand when being caught in the Devil's Snare. At least Neville would finally get his own wand. Hopefully that would boost the wizard's confidence when spells would come more naturally to him next school year. Hermione's parents also showed up during some part of the day, after Sirius had floo called them, and they weren't pleased with the Headmaster either.

Draco had heard from his godfather that the Headmaster's office had suffered some damages when the Lord of House Black was told that there had been some strange things happening concerning Quirrel during the year, and that he was even suspected of trying to curse Harry off of his broom during his first quidditch match. It was safe to say, the Headmaster wasn't in any of the Light families' good graces. Which honestly, suit Draco perfectly. To him, the world was no longer Dark and Light. He'd seen the second war and been a product of the first war considering his upbringing and his father's so-called values. Even Dumbledore himself had dabbled into dark magic in his younger days, and he wasn't the great leader he'd seemed. If they wanted more political power, he needed some of the families to side with him on some matters. Not with Dumbledore.

His birthday party had been a smaller affair without Harry, but Susan and Hannah had suggested holding it in the kitchens, so members of other houses could also attend. In the end, only those two and Neville showed up, but still, the more the merrier. Draco was actually starting to see them as his extended friend circle, not just as his future political allies. Daphne, Blaise, Tracey, Theo and Pansy had also attended, even if Pansy showed her clear disgust for most of the others present, trying to get Draco's attention. Some things truly never changed.

Hermione had gone out of her way to greet ever single house elf once the Hufflepuffs had shown them how to enter the kitchens. She asked all of them how their day was and thanked them for taking such good care of the students. Pride filled them, and Draco was sure he'd seen Hermione's favourite dessert or fruits show up more and more during dinner and lunch time. Perhaps this time around, she'd get to know the elves and their needs before going off on her S.P.E.W. campaign. That would honestly save him a lot of headaches, even if he agreed that treatment of the elves should be improved. Once their generation was in power, that would be high on the agenda. Along with werewolf rights, he supposed, at least once she figured out Remus Lupin was an outcast in the British wizarding society.

Dumbledore had been in awe once Harry woke up and realized that the blood ward was still active, alive and thriving in Harry's body and that it was only the wards on the Dursley's house that had fallen when his instruments broke down. Draco hoped the old man also felt some sort of remorse for forcing the boy to live with his horrible relative for ten years, since it was clear now that he'd never needed to be close to Petunia Dursley for the wards to work to begin with. Sirius would probably have another fit over that one. Even Harry didn't look too pleased when he realized the Headmaster had never considered Harry's own blood to be sufficient. The ward his mother had cast on the night of her dead was something of her own design. What Draco had learnt about her from the letters Harry had gotten from Sirius, and the stories Professor Snape had shared, there was literally no way in hell the witch would ever magically bind her child to her sister.

At the End of Term Feast, Slytherin won, and Gryffindor came in second, thanks to some last-minute points from Dumbledore, all based around courageousness and chivalry and all that other Gryffindor crap. At least this time, Gryffindor hadn't run off with the cup and Slytherin had won, as they were supposed to the first time around without Dumbledore's meddling. McGonagall didn't even look mad, as she raised her glass at both her lions, and the three snakes.

"You guys have to visit me at Grimmauld this summer," Harry said as they were finishing dinner. "Sirius is finally healed, and taking over his duties of Lord Black, so I honestly might be a bit bored when he's off doing political stuff," the raven-haired boy said.

"What about Potter Manor? Will you visit this Summer?" Hermione questioned. "I thought the Goblins had finally released the will, after a lot of arguing with the Wizzengamot which I still do not understand. Who cares if you aren't of age? You are the only living heir. It's your birthright. It's your home."

Draco sighed. He knew a particular person and his entourage who'd been opposed to Harry getting access to his estate and house elves… His father was becoming a nuisance. First, he'd made Harry's live difficult by denying him his birth right, making Draco think he should just rip the lordship ring off of his father's finger. Alas, showing off that he was the rightful lord this soon would not be beneficial for his future plans. But the fact that his father had been the one to lure Dumbledore away the night Voldemort attempted to get the Philosopher's Stone… Something was up. Something was brewing. He just had to figure out what.

Not following the conversation anymore as he'd started an inner discussion with Deandra on how they would outsmart his father, he was surprised when Hermione suddenly asked. "What about Malfoy Manor? Your mother invited us over, but I'm not sure your father-"

"He will be off to Bulgaria for two weeks in Summer," Draco said. "You are all welcome to visit for a few days, if you'd like to come. We have an even bigger Quidditch pitch than the Weasleys. I don't think we should mention it to my father though. He's already quite displeased with me and my mother, even though I've been assuring him that the only reason I'm friends with you is for the societal status and political advantage," he murmured. He really hated that. He liked Harry and Hermione. That should be more than enough for his father.

Both of his friends nodded at him sadly, and tried to steer the conversation into happier news, such as a visit to the Burrow, Ginny coming to Hogwarts with them next year – even though that was mainly Harry who seemed excited as for now – and Hermione's trip to France to visit her grandmother.

- July 16th, 1992, Malfoy Manor –

Draco was fidgeting as he waited in the parlour for his friends to arrive. Hermione had just come back from France with her parents, and as his father had gone on his trip to Bulgaria two days earlier, Hermione and Harry were invited to stay over for the next two days and the Grangers and Sirius would be staying over for dinner tonight. Sirius had been to the Manor in his Hogwarts days, but for the others this would be their first time. His mother and Severus were waiting in the garden, giving him the honour to greet his guests. Both Harry and Hermione had been reading up on occlumency for the past weeks, but both Sirius and Severus had agreed, to each other's astonishment that they actually were able to agree on something, that the children needed to learn the skill as fast as possible. Severus was basically here to convince the Drs. Granger of how important it was for Hermione to learn it, as he would need to be visiting their home to help Hermione progress in her studies.

As the fireplace was engulfed in green flames, Hermione stepped out of the fireplace gracefully until she noticed him, smiled with her large buckteeth and hugged him tightly. "Oh Draco, it's been too long!" she exclaimed. "Did you have a nice summer so far?"

Well. He couldn't tell her that he'd been running around setting up accounts and investments at both Gringotts and muggle banks as his older self to build his own fortune which was not connected to his father. Neither could he tell her how he'd found out his father still had contacts with Voldemort supporters in Eastern-Europe, the same ones he was visiting right now. How he and Deandra had been slightly but surely adjusting the wards so Draco could overhear any conversation his father had, without the elder Malfoy noticing of course. He'd always known that his father had been strict - cruel even - and a cold-hearted killer and politician. But as a child, he'd both feared and idolized his father. What he'd learned over the summer would even make his younger self's toes curl.

Since he couldn't tell Hermione any of this, he just smiled at her and joked that the French sun and air had done her hair well since it was less frizzy than usual. A playful punch in the shoulder was what he'd gotten in return and Tipsy popped in to welcome the Grangers and show Hermione's parents the way to the garden. Hermione decided to wait for Harry together with Draco.

"The Manor feels very…" Hermione thought for a second, trying to find the right word. "Welcoming. It almost feels like home."

Draco just smiled at her. Of course it would feel like home. She was the mistress of Malfoy Manor after all. "I'm glad you like it so far, even if all you've seen is the parlour. Just wait until you see your room."

Once Harry arrived, the three of them and Sirius went into the gardens, Sirius commenting on how his cousin had improved the looks of the Manor since he was last visiting, and wondering out loud if she perhaps could assist him and Amelia in renovating Grimmauld Place. During the past year, the spark that Amelia Bones and Sirius Black had had during auror training had come back to life, and they were now engaged. Madam Bones and her niece, Susan, were planning to move into Grimmauld Place, the Bones Estate being put into statis until Susan turned of age and would become the new lady Bones. Apprehensive of how Harry would feel about it, he had exclaimed happily that he always wanted to grow up with a sibling, but that no one should tell Hermione he would consider Susan a sister as well. The frizzy brunette had already claimed that title. Sirius and Amelia had laughed, and they were starting to be their own new family. Draco was glad.

Once all the adults were gathered, seated, and had been offered coffee, tea, and cake by Tipsy, they started talking about how their summers had been so far. Narcissa had met up with Jean Granger in France for one day, as both women wanted to go shopping. Draco was glad he had escaped that one by claiming he and Harry were going to have some lordship classes with Sirius. In reality, the three of them and Dobby had tried to get more inventive with their pranks on the Dursleys, even sending a letter to the twins. Petunia was currently gaining all the extra weight her husband should be gaining and was having a mental breakdown.

His godfather took the lead when they started talking about what had happened at the end of the school year. "Both me, Sirius and Narcissa feel it is imperative that Harry and Hermione learn occlumency, and to a certain extent, legilimency. Especially occlumency is a very important skill to have to protect one's mind, considering the Dark Lord does not seem to be vanquished after all."

The Grangers asked many questions but were both convinced it would be best for Hermione to learn it as fast as possible. They did want Severus to show them how he would teach the children, and to make sure it wasn't harmful in any way. Hermione admitted she had a small headache from focussing on building her protective walls, but that the Professor had been nice and not looked at any private memories.

Severus had praised her for putting the theory she had read into practice so fast. She'd chosen a library as her defensive walls, and some of the memories Severus had viewed, Hermione had sent at him on purpose to hide more important ones.

Draco was extremely proud of her, and told her so, making her blush at his praise. Harry had also started out well and chosen his first home, Hogwarts, as his defence mechanism. The hidden corridors he'd gotten to know thanks to his use of the Marauder's Map, sent professor Snape through some tunnels, ending up at what Harry imagined to be Hogsmeade.

The rest of the day was spent showing them around the Manor, Hermione hanging out at the library on her own for two hours while the boys played Quidditch, and Hermione then proceeding to ask Draco if she could lend some of the books. Dobby apparated next to her before Draco could answer. "As a descendant of the Malfoy family," the elf began, "Miss Hermie can take all books she wants. All she has to do is ask Dobby for the catalogue, and he will bring Miss Hermie the books she desires," he said. Hermione in all of her excitement picked up a very surprised Dobby and hugged him close to her, dancing in circles. All the elf could do was blush and stammer.

Draco then showed both Harry and Hermione to their rooms, which were in the same hallway as his bedroom. He said that they could use these guestrooms whenever they wanted, his father be damned. He would keep ensuring him that he was only friends with him for the political advantage, and soon enough his father would start to believe him and act as if he too was allying himself with them. The Potter and Dagworth-Granger seat were worth too much to him.

"If only Lucius knew that you could kick him off of the Wizengamot and out of the Manor at any moment," Deandra mused.

"Not before I am of age. I don't want him to become too big of an issue," Draco answered as Hermione let herself fall backwards onto her bed, the purple silken sheets wrinkling under the weight of her tiny frame, Harry and Draco laughing and joining her soon after.

- July 18th, 1992, Malfoy Manor –

"Draco. Wake up. NOW." Deandra spoke in his mind, waking Draco up from a pleasant dream.

He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and grabbed his wand from the nightstand as Deandra's corporeal form was standing next to his bed. Seems like she had also been trying to shake him awake. Whenever they were at the Manor, and they were alone, she had taken to using her human form. She explained that she'd used to go around the Manor in this way, especially the first 600 years or so, making her more of a family member to the Malfoy heirs. His veela ancestor had envied the beauty the spirit had, and following the wishes of the Mistress of the Manor, she had held back her form more and more. She hadn't been around as much when Draco's great-grandfather had been Lord Malfoy, since he'd been sickly and she'd stayed mostly in his room when she was in human form, trying to soothe his pains. She'd blamed herself for not making him spend more time with his son Abraxas Malfoy, to show herself more to him even so he would know she was real. Perhaps then he, and in turn Lucius, would not have turned out the way they did. Perhaps, she could've guided them to a different destiny. However, as the spirit of the Manor, her first priorities always lay with the Lord and Mistress of the manor, not spending as much time with some of the heirs. That was how the bond had worked over a thousand years. It was the reason why she had never showed up to Draco until he became Lord of Malfoy Manor and she realized that he was not like his father and grandfather before him.

Draco figured that if Deandra liked going around the Manor, then that was exactly what she should do. He would never deny her her freedom.

"Your father came back early," she said as she conjured him a silver robe to put over his pyjamas. "He's brought something vile with him from Bulgaria. It's not a Horcrux, it doesn't have the same signature-" she explained as Draco hurriedly put on his robe. "But I overheard him talking with Karkaroff on the floo. They are trying to awaken something in Hogwarts with it, something to help Voldemort-"

"The Basilisk," Draco blinked. "Please don't tell me we have to go around Hogwarts carrying mirrors again," he sighed in frustration.

"Harry is Lord Slytherin now," Deandra said as Draco poked his head out into the hallway, making sure the coast was clear before the headed out. "He could command the Basilisk to stop, but how would we ever explain to him that-"

"Draco?"

Both Draco and Deandra froze as they saw Hermione open the door to her bedroom, tightening her nightgown, her hair as big as a lion's mane.

A gasp escaped her lips as she took in Deandra's tall frame, her slight silver hue lighting up the hallway. If they hadn't been so stressed, or so tired, they would've remembered that Deandra should've left her corporeal form behind and joined him in his mind instead. Alas, they were in a hurry – and Draco was still sleepy - and not really expecting anyone to be up this late. The blonde wizard was definitely awake now, however.

Before Draco could even come up with an explanation, Deandra head snapped towards the stairways and she said: "Your mother is up. She's been notified of Lucius' arrival. I will keep an eye on her. Make plans with Harry and Hermione to leave. I will not tolerate children to be this close to that foul magic Lucius has brought with him."

She put her hand on his shoulder before she disappeared in a silver whirl of magic, Hermione still staring at Draco.

"Who was that?" Hermione asked confusedly as Draco tried to push her backwards into her room, locking the door behind them. How the fuck was he going to explain this? Hermione had her arms crossed, a frown on her face, unhappy that she had been left out of the loop.

"What I am about to tell you," he began, "should not be repeated to anyone else. Not to Harry, not to your parents, not to any elf or member of the Malfoy family, not to anyone but me," he stated, holding his hands onto her shoulders, looking fiercely into her eyes.

Understanding the gravity of the situation, she nodded and uncrossed her arms.

"You've read about the leylines that Hogwarts was built upon?"

She nodded.

"And the spirits connected to them?"

She nodded again. "Like the Sorting Hat, you mean?"

"Exactly," Draco said. "Malfoy Manor was also built on a leyline, the spirit of which you just saw. Deandra has been with our family since Armand got her blessing to establish his House here. She has been protecting the Malfoy family and its descendants ever since."

Hermione blinked. "Deandra? The divine defender of mankind?"

Now it was Draco's turn to be confused. "Wait what? You know about her?"

"Of course I do," Hermione scoffed. "Unlike wizards, muggles begin their schooling between the ages of 5 and 7. I've always been interested in Greek mythology and you know how much I like to read and absorb language. Deandra, or Alexandra as she was known in ancient Greece, was seen as a protector. I just didn't expect her to be real. To be magical. She's a myth."

"Pretty sure I'm not just a myth," Deandra said, her laughter ringing in the room before she appeared in an armchair in the corner of the room. "Excuse my previous behaviour, Hermione. I had to go and check on Draco's mother after his idiot of a father brought home a dark artifact. Luckily, Lady Malfoy is quite able to take care of herself and is winning the shouting match downstairs, I believe." Deandra got up from the armchair, her blue-green robes whirling around her as she crouched down in front of Hermione, extending her hand. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Dagworth-Granger."

Hermione just stared at the spirit and absentmindedly put out her hand to shake Deandra's. "Are you the actual Deandra?" she whispered.

"The one and only," the spirit whispered back, winking. "I am glad someone here has some more knowledge about my past. Draco here had no clue that I originally come from Greece and emigrated to the British Isles around the 5th century."

Draco crossed his arms this time. "You never told me," he accused her.

"You never asked, little dragon," Deandra quipped back.

Hermione started laughing, holding her sides. "Little dragon? Oh Merlin, if I tell Harry-" she kept giggling.

"Why did you have to tell her my nickname?" Draco asked, pinching his nose in frustration like he'd learned from his godfather.

"Well, Hermione is my favourite now. At least she knew who she was talking to," the spirit joked.

Deandra's smile suddenly disappeared, and she stood up straight, all serious. "Lucius suspects you and your mother defied him and invited Harry and Hermione," she said. "He's on his way here." She looked down at Hermione. "I would like my existence to be kept secret," she said. "Do you swear you will not speak of me to anyone other than Draco? If you refuse, I will sadly have to obliviate you."

"My lips are sealed, Deandra," Hermione smiled. "If you promise to visit me from time to time and tell me the actual stories of all those myths I've read about."

The spirit smiled at her and bowed her head in agreement before disappearing again. "Call on Dobby and tell him to take Hermione and Harry to Grimmauld, Draco. Hermione, you tell Harry that Lucius suddenly came home. He will understand."

Hermione blinked. "Does it always sound like this to hear her in your mind?"

"Pretty much," Draco agreed, before calling Dobby and telling him to apparate both Hermione and Harry to Grimmauld place, making sure their things would also be apparated and that the guestrooms would look immaculate. With a snap of Dobby's fingers, Hermione's overnight bag was packed, the bed was made, and the house elf extended his hand to her.

"Be safe," she mouthed to Draco, right before Dobby whisked the two of them away.

Draco snuck back to his room and only half a minute after he was in bed, his father slightly opened the door to his room, seeing nothing amiss.

"He hid the artifact," Deandra said as Lucius left. "You don't suppose he will leave it with Ginny Weasley again?"

Draco smirked. "If he does, Harry will be even more mad than he was last time." No one would touch a hair on the redhead's head if it was up to Harry, that he was sure of.

- August 19th, 1992, Flourish and Blotts –

Dobby had been just in time to apparate Hermione and Harry away that night his father came home. For the past month, Draco had been convincing his father slowly but surely that keeping the Dagworth-Granger and Potter heirs as his friends, would be politically advantageous when they finally took up their seats at the Wizengamot in a few years. His father had barked back that two votes would barely mean anything. Draco had replied back that he was sure he could count on the Black, Longbottom, Greengrass, Davis, Zabini, Nott, Bones and Abott votes as well, and maybe more if Lucius would allow Draco to expand his friend circle. Ten votes out of fifty would be a lot. His father held about ten himself that would make twenty. Malfoy senior had finally started realizing what his son was up to, and for the first time in his life exclaimed he was proud of his son's cunning. Draco couldn't give a fuck about what that wanker thought. If his first lifetime was spent trying to get his father's approval, his second was definitely spent planning his father's demise. Narcissa had joined the conversation stating that was exactly what she had been telling Lucius all these months, and that she would be organizing a Yule Ball to expand Draco's influence as the Malfoy heir. Suddenly, all friend visits were approved of by his father.

Draco and his friends had been communicating through their diaries, and Harry and Hermione had been over for one dinner with his parents and godfather present, Severus thankfully praising the both of them. Deandra also noticed the eagerness in Lucius' eyes when he realized what the Potter-Black line and the Dagworth-Granger line could bring him in political clout. What a duffer his father was. As if they'd ever support Lucius over Draco.

Harry's birthday had been celebrated at Grimmauld's Place and both Hermione and Draco had gotten a wedding invitation from Amelia and Sirius for the next Summer. When Hermione and Susan were asked to be bridesmaids, the little witch had squealed and congratulated the couple, already wondering – or rather worrying - what dress she would wear.

Hermione and Draco had taken another trip to Gringotts, Deandra joining them in the Dagworth-Granger vault with Hermione's permission. Her ancestors had been true potioneering legends. In one of the books that Draco had taken with him to research, he found the beginnings of what looked like a wolfsbane potion. Imagine all the suffering that could've been prevented if the potion had been developed decades earlier.

Director Ragnok was still communicating with Draco and stating they were close to figuring out how to remove the Horcrux from Harry. The director was also increasing his efforts to finally have Potter manor and its elves released to Harry, something which was definitely going to become easier if Lucius finally stopped opposing Harry.

Right now, the silver trio was standing in queue to get their books for their second-year classes. Draco told Hermione not to buy the D.A.D.A. books by Gilderoy Lockhart, but her sweet teenage crush had blinded her from the truth. "You know," Draco whispered to her as she kept glancing at the new Professor, "you should cross-reference some of the dates he mentions in his books. See if there's anything that doesn't add up."

She scowled at him, but curiosity getting the better of her as usual, she agreed to read the books before the school year began. As if she wasn't going to be doing that anyway.

Suddenly, Lockhart pointed at Harry. "My oh my, is that Harry Potter?"

"My oh my?" Harry questioned. "You mean Hermione?" he pushed the witch in front of them, stumbling as she was holding about five books close to her chest already. "I understand her name can be a bit difficult, but her name is Her-my-oh-nee. She's a big fan of you Professor, and you will see much more of her, as she is the brightest with of our age!"

Harry had never liked the attention, and the two Slytherins chuckled as Hermione blushed when Lockhart pulled her closer to him and told her to smile for the cameras.

"I am definitely going to cut that one out of the Daily Prophet and frame it with a sticking charm in the Slytherin Common Rooms," Harry whispered to Draco. "She's being such a lovesick fool. Isn't she cute?" he laughed.

Hermione, who was on her way back, still blushing, had overheard the last part and scowled. "Make sure Ginny doesn't hear you, Mr. Potter. I just saw her, and her family enter the store, and I was surprised you lovesick puppy hadn't picked up on her scent yet."

Harry's head whipped around immediately at the mention of Ginny and as Draco and Hermione looked over, he could see his father arguing with Mr. Weasley who was sporting a cut to his lip. As an Encyclopedia of Toadstools hit his father square in the face, Deandra spoke up.

"Not again," the spirit sighed.

And indeed, once again, as the threads of fate unspun, a dark artifact landed in Ginny Weasley's cauldron, the little girl being whisked away by her parents before Draco could get closer to summon it. Bollocks.