CHAPTER WARNING: The beginning of this chapter includes child abuse from Lucius towards Draco. The other adults WILL intervene.

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: The original note in this chapter where I was considering leaving the story be due to concerns about grooming will be left in for the sake of discussion on Ao3's comment section on this chapter. If anyone has any issues with certain parts of the story and considers it triggering, please let me know. For all the others, please enjoy the next chapter :)

Hi everyone. There have been concerns around grooming. I really tried to not make this another time-travel fic where the adult male lead goes back in time and immediately makes the female lead his girlfriend when she is 11 and he is anything between 17 and 118 (I swear I have seen one of those out there). My intention has always been to establish their friendship first and to make sure both of them had multiple friendships and a support system, way bigger than the one in the original series. I have always understood grooming as a situation where a person gets isolated from their friends and family by an older person. To counter that, I made sure to never isolate Hermione, I even gave her two other actual badass female friends in Daphne and Luna, instead of mostly Ginny who we sometimes saw on the side. Tried to show her relationship with her parents. Even tried to mention multiple times how Draco loves that she has such a big friend group now. Then I had his physical hormonal teenage years make him struggle with his 20-year-old thoughts where he just cringes at his angsty teen self that he needs to get over. Guess I failed with that one. Again, my understanding of the concept might be entirely wrong since English is not my native language, and some of the nuances of certain terms and meanings might get lost on me.

And, as some of you have rightly noticed, yes I was hinting that Hermione knew something was up. That she has been wary of him hiding something for a while now. [Retracted plot point spoilers]. I was just channeling my inner 15-year-old self and how it felt to be in love with a teenage boy. Granted, she doesn't know he technically only looks like a teenager and is in reality 5-6 years older than her at that point. He looks like one and acts like a complete teenage doofus when I imagine him and Harry hanging out. To her, he's just a bit smarter and more mature than your average 14 year-old-boy. I even had this whole part written where [Retracted plot point spoilers]

So. Long story short. I was originally planning to put the story on hold indefinitely, but after the discussion in the comments on Ao3, I felt like continuing and putting extra tags and a warning on chapter one. Let me know if I should do anything else. It was never my intention to make this look like grooming. My understanding of grooming was something entirely different, and I felt this was more of a "meant-to-be" story. Where you can start to wonder if they are bound because they were married, or if they got married, because they were always meant to be and therefore bound. I'm sorry for not putting the warning sooner. You can always contact me on a private message concerning certain parts that seem to be grooming, then I will do my best to get rid of those.

- February 24th, 1995, Snape's office –

After the second task was over and Madam Pomfrey had checked if nothing was amiss, his father had grabbed him aggressively by the shoulder, dragging him away from the Hospital Wing, down to the dungeons. Hermione and Harry had jumped up, ready to follow him, but he lifted his hand to them slightly, shaking his head, and asking his best friends to stay behind. This was family business. He could see them worry, so he smiled at them encouragingly and mouthed: "It will all be alright."

'Mione had reached out to him as soon as his father's magic had angrily smacked the door to the Hospital Wing behind them. Draco's shoulder was starting to get stiff from his father holding onto him so forcefully, the blood flow being interrupted.

"Having you and Harry there would only make it worse," he soothed her as she started chattering in his brain. "You know how my father gets. Just meet me in the Room of Requirement after."

He could still feel Hermione lingering in his mind, looking through his eyes. He warned her to step out if it got too much to her. His father had always been rather cruel, and he expected that what happened today would have angered the idiotic bigot.

When they arrive at the dungeons, his father roughly shoved him into his godfather's office, his mother and Severus hurrying behind them as Harry had gone to find them in Madam Pomfrey's office where they had been having tea to calm down after the day's events. Draco almost stumbled when his father hit him in the back with his cane. Fury ran through him. Not just his own, but Hermione's as well. He could sense that she was opening her mind to Harry, giving both of them a full view of what was happening, ready to come and defend their friend if needed. Perhaps he should lock her out of his mind if she'd have to witness this. It never got pretty when his father was angry.

"What are you doing, Lucius?!" Narcissa yelled as she ran over to her son, shielding him with her body, his godfather warding and silencing the room against onlookers and intruders. If only he knew the other two-thirds of the silver trio had a live feed going to whatever this was.

Lucius had started pacing on the other side of the room, his hand still twitching and reaching towards his cane. Draco had never really liked that cane. Thought it just made his father look dumb since he tried to hide his wand in it. He wasn't a powerful mage like Merlin had been. He didn't need a staff to control his magic. Yet, he flounced around with his cane as if he did. Pathetic. "It's all your fault", Lucius barked at his wife. "If it wasn't for you, he wouldn't have looked like… Like a half-breed," he spat.

"My fault?" Narcissa hissed, her magic starting to crackle around her. "Take a look in the bloody mirror Lucius. If Draco has come into his magical inheritance, it is because of your bloodline. Not mine." Oh. His mother never cursed. She must really be angry this time. Probably her bottled-up annoyance with his father finally getting the best of her after all these years. The whispers of the Dark Lord returning, and his father actually praising it, probably hadn't done their marriage any good.

The elder Malfoy looked up at her, slightly crazed. He lifted his cane and pointed it at his wife. Draco had to resist the urge to not escalate the situation by grabbing onto his wand and protecting his mother. "Don't you dare sully the Malfoy line, we are pure."

Narcissa laughed and crossed her arms, scowling. "Are you trying to say that the House of Black is not Sacred Twenty-Eight? We can take a trip down to Grimmauld Place and see who has the veela in their family tree. It wouldn't surprise me if we found one on your family tree, at Malfoy Manor." Her lips were pursed, and Draco had never felt his mother ooze so much magic in pure anger. Usually, she was quite calm and collected, the epitome of Slytherin cunning.

Lucius had clearly not listened to her answer and was pacing again, muttering as he did. Draco had never seen his own father so unhinged. He was ruthless and cruel. But now he looked… To be honest, he reminded him a lot of his aunt Bellatrix if anything. "How shameful!" he suddenly yelled, coming to a stop and lifting his eyes to the sky. "To have a half-breed son."

Draco noticed that his godfather too, was frowning now. Severus was a half-blood, and it had been Draco's mother who had become friends with him first, back when they were both students at Hogwarts. Snape walked forward, flanking Draco from the other side. Both of them were shielding him from his father with their bodies. He couldn't help but feel… Loved.

"Don't you call him that," Narcissa hissed, smacking her fist on the desk next to her while some of the empty potion vials in the room exploded with her anger. "He is still the same little boy he has always been. Only he has grown to be kinder, more ambitious, determined, and intelligent than I could have ever hoped. How dare you call him a half-breed, as if something would even be wrong with that for that matter! I don't care what you think but you will not speak to him that way. He's our son for Merlin's sake."

Lord Malfoy now turned his head around, narrowing his eyes at the protective stance of both Narcissa and Severus. Those two had always been very good friends. "Is he? My son?"

"Lucius," Severus warned him, his hand now tightening around his wand, throwing caution to the wind. The situation was escalating drastically, and Draco could sense Hermione and Harry leaving the Hospital Wing. Dear Merlin, please let them stay out of this.

"Are you questioning my virtue now?" Narcissa asked, completely dumbfounded, her anger replaced by confusion for just a second.

"How else would you explain it then? That's the issue right there. Maybe he isn't a true Malfoy," he answered her, Deandra raging on the inside. If the spirit would show herself now, she would want to strip Lucius from his titles and banish him from the family tree. Draco calmed her down. He knew what his father was like. His trying to find some sort of excuse for veela magic awakening in Draco, was something he'd expected all along.

"Enough!" Snape now yelled, looking at his godson intently, trying to gauge what Draco's response was. All the blond teenager did was cross his arms, lean against the desk behind him, and watch his mother and godfather tear his father down. "If you are so worried Lucius, then let's do a simple test…"

"Even if he is my son, it has to be her family," Lucius said as he pointed his cane straight at his wife, Draco now starting to slowly uncross his arms so he could reach his wand if necessary. "She ruined my son. My heir."

Hermione and Harry had been awfully quiet, watching the chaos ensue. Their disgust for his father matched his own, but what he noticed most was their sorrow. He could feel the thread between him and Hermione, her and Harry walking towards the dungeons before it suddenly got pulled further away. Good. Harry was leading her to the Room instead. He didn't want to imagine what he would do if his father would hurt either one of his best friends.

"It's alright, 'Mione," he told her. "I'm grateful for your support. But we will talk after. I don't want to know what my father would say or do if he saw you and Harry come-" Draco's thoughts got interrupted as his father's cane was once again aimed at him.

"And what is even worse is that girl. I allowed this friendship to go on for far too long. Who cares if she is the Dagworth-Granger heir? She's nothing more than the daughter of squibs," he spat. "Don't you think I saw it? That we all didn't see it? That creature would want to ruin the bloodline even further with her. I should have betrothed you to a pure-blooded family when I had the chance."

Something inside of Draco snapped. He didn't care about his father insulting him. But Hermione. "Don't you dare talk about her like that," he said threateningly to his father, straightening up, his hand on his wand.

"Don't you see what it is doing to you, Draco? This idiocy would make you want to court a mudblood," Lucius spat. If only his father knew, that technically, he already had, even if it was many years ago.

"Perhaps some of that muddy blood would cleanse whatever trash made you and grandfather so unhinged," Draco now answered, opposing his father.

Lucius almost snarled at his son. The blond teen couldn't help but think if there perhaps was some veela magic in his father after all. "You and your mudblood whore-"

Before Draco could hex his father, his mother had stepped forward and slapped him across the face. Draco smirked. The worst way to hurt Lucius Malfoy was to stomp on his beliefs. Hurting him the muggle way must have made him feel so disgraced. "One more word out of your foul mouth and I will make sure you lose your tongue, Lucius. Don't forget I was born into the House of Black. We have strayed towards the dark for far longer than the Malfoys have. You do not want to cross me or my son," Narcissa said. Usually, her hair was styled sleek and done up in a bun, but the angrier she had become, the more magic ran through her, the more her dark black curls tumbled down her back.

His father was touching his cheek in disbelief, holding his cane against it to magically remove the mark she'd left. "You dare lay a hand on me?"

"I will not stand by and let you insult my son or the people he loves. Not as long as I am alive," she challenged him in return.

"Do you want to be removed from the House of Malfoy?" he whispered threateningly, leaning closer to his wife's ear, trying to intimidate her. "For years I have seen you shown kindness to half-breeds, mudbloods, and blood traitors. Seen you give them a place at our table, make them feel welcome in our home under the guise of your lust for social status." He stepped back, looking down his nose at her. "But I know you, Narcissa Black. You're just as bad as that blood-traitor sister of yours. Wanted to become a healer just like her, before I talked that foolishness out of your mind. The issue is that you actually care for them. It was never just about your image."

Narcissa bristled, not knowing what to answer.

Draco blinked. She wasn't denying it. And… Had his mother truly wanted to be a healer like his Aunt Andromeda? Had he not seen through his mother, like his father had? He'd always assumed her social status was most important to her, and that she'd just made friends along the way to gain more power. Friends who'd changed her views on blood purity. But… What if… They never were changed? What if his mother… He hadn't come back in time that many years. If what his father was saying was true, about her wanting to be a healer and having all these friends… Then even the first time around, she had always been opposed to his father's thinking. How disappointed she must have been in her only son, to share in his bigoted beliefs. Oh, Merlin. If only he could go back and tell her now. Tell her he was like her.

Something shifted in the back of Draco's mind. His family magic felt. Emptier. Lonelier. He couldn't feel the strands connecting him to his mother any longer. He stepped forward to her, wanting to grab hold of his mum.

"I lost her," Deandra said solemnly. "Your mother. There is no more Mistress of the Manor. It's just him and you. He's cutting the ties to her. The wedding vows they made… She was never allowed to go against your father, or she would stop being… A Malfoy."

"You think you can intimidate me?" she hissed as she noticed the Lady Malfoy ring going up in smoke, disappearing from her finger. She acted as if it didn't affect her, but Draco knew it did. Her father had just used magic to annul their wedding vows. Just because he'd written in a stupid clause where she would be his good little obedient wife. Draco felt disgusted. "I don't need you, Lucius. I was a Black long before I was a Malfoy."

"You and your…" Lucius waved at Draco in disgust which he tried to hide with indifference, "spawn can consider yourselves…"

Panic flooded through him. "Draco. Do something. Now," Deandra urged. "I can't go against the current Lord without you being his heir. You need to take-"

Draco stumbled, holding onto the desk next to him. Another feeling of emptiness filled him. No. She was gone. He felt her leave his mind. She had been pulled back to the Manor as soon as his father started considering Draco as a half-breed rather than his heir. Anger and sadness filled him. How dare his father kick out his mother and take Deandra from him? The spirit had protected him all these years, and had gone through all of this with him. Had cared for him like a second mother. Like the second parent he never had. He remembered how she'd been so happy to be able to move around the Manor again when they were alone, to be free. To have a more understanding and equal bond with the Malfoy family, just like she had with Armand all those centuries ago. Where they supported each other, rather than Deandra being reduced to some myth that no one believed in anymore, making her powers wane. Draco made up his mind. He refused to let her go. Let her be caught within the walls of the Manor until another true heir would show up. One who believed in the purity of conviction, rather than the purity of blood. He refused to let her be stuck because no one believed in her anymore.

"I don't think so," Draco argued, trying to mentally recall the power he'd felt when he'd become the Lord of the Manor. What was it Deandra had said? He was strongest at the manor. That she would always come to his aid there.

"'Mione, tell Harry I am about to do something very Gryffindorkishly stupid. And that I could use some help," he whispered before tuning out the connection, needing all his energy and focus to take on his father.

His father was positioned right in front of the fireplace. Good. A quick glance and he saw that there was still some floo powder left. Before his father could finish whatever monologue he was holding now, enforcing magic to get rid of the bond between him and his son, he jumped forward, tackling his father backward into the fireplace as he grabbed the floo with his right hand.

"Malfoy Manor!" he yelled out, his mother and Snape disappearing. As the green flames engulfed him, all he could hear was them screaming his name in terror.

"An idiot, just like your mother," Lucius spat as they tumbled out of the fireplace in the drawing room, his father keeping himself upright with his cane.

Tipsy popped in, distressed, and seemingly lost as she had also felt the connection to her Mistress break. "Master," she began, "Mistress Narcissa, she…"

Lucius now smacked Draco in the ribs with his cane, making the air leave his body as he stumbled backward. Why were there fangs on that damned thing? It had pierced his skin.

"She is your mistress no more," the elder Malfoy answered to the confused house elf as he wiped off the top of his cane, almost in disgust that there was half-breed blood on it.

"Master?" Tipsy's ears flapped worriedly, before she too was hit across the face with the cane, Lucius angrily wiping his hair out of his face. Dobby had apparated in, feeling the head House Elf get hurt. He ran over to his friend, torn between helping his master and Tipsy. Draco nodded at Dobby in understanding. He was bound to his father, before he was bound to Draco. He couldn't just come in between.

"You thought you could stop me from getting rid of you and your mother?" he taunted Draco as he hit him again, adding some magic to it to make it hurt more. Draco fell and was now crawling on all fours, trying to stand up again. Some of that veela strength would be great right now. But he felt so drained. He had his wand in one of his hands, ready to take on his father. Deandra wouldn't be there to help him. He could imagine her wailing in anger, trying to reach into his father's thick skull to stop him. But to his father, she didn't exist. His idiocy and ignorance were the best occlumency to keep her out of his mind.

"Lucius, leave the boy alone," Severus now warned his former friend as he walked out of the fireplace, his wand aimed at Lucius' back. Narcissa no longer had access to the Manor, even Draco barely managed to get through before his father properly broke the bonds between them. Luckily, his godfather had been written into the ward ledger. Without removing him manually from the ledger, his godfather could come and go when he pleased. He could feel Harry and Hermione also trying to get through, but his father must have stricken them from the ledger after last winter. Fuck.

"This is between me and Draco," Lucius said as he waved his wand in the air, the same shield that Draco had once used to save Hermione from a troll now taking up half of the drawing room. His father walked closer to him, almost as if stalking his prey. "Do you think you can defeat me, boy?" he taunted his son, as he slid his wand out of his cane. "You're just a child. Haven't even properly learnt Malfoy family magic. There is no way, you could win against me in a duel."

That wasn't technically true. He had learnt the family magic from Deandra. But he wasn't as powerful as his father when they were here in Wiltshire. His father was still the Lord of the Manor. A silent Diffindo hit Draco across his wand arm, making him grunt in pain. His father looked mildly impressed at that, considering his previous self would have cried like a little baby. He shook his head, not wanting to remember the fiasco that was Buckbeak. If only his father knew he'd suffered way worse during the war. He didn't need his wand hand to fight. His godfather had made sure of that.

His father dodged the Expelliarmus he threw at him with his left hand, laughing at his use of the spell. What the elder Malfoy didn't know, was that it was just a distraction, Draco making his father purposely move to the left as he cast a Reducto at him. He groaned as he noticed his father's shield had just moved. Being the Lord had its perks not only in pure magical power but also since his father was fighting on his home turf.

"Foolish boy," Lucius said as he cast another hex at Draco, this one cutting him across his other arm. He'd been losing quite a lot of blood and considering he'd just been spending the better part of the day under a lake and straining his magic to help his friends, he wasn't in prime condition. His core was drained from using his veela powers to help rescue Gabrielle and Hermione. Madam Pomfrey had even told him to rest. He'd been draining himself slowly all day, and Deandra wasn't there to help him replenish his reserves.

His occlumency slipped due to his tiredness. "'Mione. Get Dumbledore," he whispered. She was screaming in the back of his mind and saw both her, Harry, and his mother use their own family magic to try and break through the wards. The wards were ancient. No Black, Slytherin, or Dagworth-Granger would get through those… Only the Dark Lord had been able to do so once, and only after they had been tampered with for years. Dumbledore might be their only chance. On the other side of the room, his godfather was using every dark curse in his arsenal, battering away at the shield, trying to get to him. No one would be able to come and save him from his own stupidity. Would this be the end of the line for him?

His eyes snapped open, focusing on what he'd just said. Of course. The Leylines. The wardstones. This was exactly how Hermione had awakened it the first time. If the family magic knew the heir was in danger… He knew his father hadn't cut the ties yet. It wasn't as easy to remove his son as it had been his wife, considering she'd broken her marriage vow by opposing him. In a moment of what Deandra would later always refer to as utter foolish brilliance, he summoned the blood out of his clothes and his skin, and sent it straight down, through the tiniest gaps in the wooden floor. The action made his father hesitate, wondering if his son had lost his mind.

It only took a second as Draco smirked and the walls of the Manor started trembling once more. He could feel that same rush of power as he'd felt all those years ago flood him. His core was stronger now, not yet battered and bruised because of the atrocities he'd seen during the war, so he could take in more of the family magic than before. Deandra's silver glow settled over him, instantly healing most of the damage that his father had done to him. Her magic felt like a warm embrace when she filled his magical core again, something she was usually reluctant to do because she didn't want to make his core burst. She was scolding him in her usual motherly way. "How could you be so reckless to come to me? You should never endanger yourself to save me, little dragon," she said, her happiness and love overflowing him. In the back of his mind, he felt Hermione's relief and for a split second, Deandra's thoughts wandered into hers, soothing her, Harry's, and his mother's fear.

"Impossible," Lucius muttered as he started manically wiping his hands, flipping them over. The lordship ring was gone. Draco held up his hand to his father, smirking as the thick silver and black ring now sat on his ring finger instead. Draco tilted his head, blinked once, and magically moved it to his middle finger, giving his father a good view of it. Serves that asshole right.

With a wave of his hand, Deandra and the Manor wards strengthening him, his father's shield started showing cracks and eventually broke down into dust. Severus immediately had his wand trained on the elder Malfoy. His mother, Hermione, and Harry lit up the drawing room in a flash of green as they came through the fireplace, holding hands. He silently thanked Deandra. All she replied with was: "Your friends and family will always be welcome in our home."

The three of them were now also pointing their wands at Lucius, Draco silently impressed by Harry's core lashing out. He grinned. Of course. Potter had always had a saviour complex. He was the most powerful wizard of all three of them. Hurting Harry's friends would make his magic lash out.

"How?" Lucius demanded, spinning around as five wands were now trained on him. Dobby and Tipsy were also looking livid now and were ready to protect their true master at a moment's notice.

Just like last time, the Manor was still slowly rumbling, Deandra's anger filling the room. "Lucius Malfoy," she spoke, making even the glass in the windows tremble. Everyone but Hermione and Draco jumped up, pointing their wands around them, trying to find the intruder. "You have dishonoured your House. Your family. Your Legacy. You did not uphold Armand Malfoy's virtues. You are not pure of conviction. By the power of the vow made between me and your ancestor, I cast you out of the House of Malfoy. So, mote it be."

Draco felt it snap. The bond between him and his father was gone. As simple as that. Good fucking riddance.

When Deandra appeared, her long silver hair down to her waist and dressed in all black robes, her slight silver hue lit up his father's face. His mouth fell open as the spirit looked at him harshly.

Lucius stumbled backward. He was scared. Draco had definitely never seen that. "No… You are nothing but a… My father said you were nothing but a tale made to scare him into submission as a child. You can't-"

Deandra smirked. "If you oppose the House of Malfoy," she interrupted him. "I can be more than just a scary bedtime story." With a wave of her hand, all the windows in the drawing room opened, inviting the cold February wind into the room. "Goodbye, Lucius. House Malfoy no longer welcomes you home." Her pure magical force literally flicked his father out of one of the windows as if he was nothing more but a ragdoll, his body flying all the way over the grounds until Draco could feel the wards strengthen once the intruder had been cast out.

She smiled down at him, closing the windows again and lighting up the fireplace, warming all of them up.

Harry, Severus, and Narcissa were staring at the Spirit open-mouthed, not sure what was going on. They even still had their wands up, ready to protect Draco at any second.

"Are you alright, little dragon?" Deandra asked, putting her hand on Draco's head, lovingly running her fingers through his hair. He could feel her magic almost kneading into his bones, trying to undo the damage his father had done to him. "What you did was foolish. Brave. But foolish. Almost like a Gryffindor." She looked over at Draco's friends and family. "I see I have Harry's influence to thank for you coming to me and our home's rescue," she smiled, making Harry blush slightly at her hidden praise.

"He would never leave you behind," Hermione said, walking up to the spirit she had gotten to know so well over the years. Sometimes, unbeknownst to Draco, the two of them had been having conversations about theoretical magic when the boys were asleep and Hermione was working on some assignment, truly trying to understand it rather than just copy the answers from a book. She hugged her arms around the spirit's body, Hermione only reaching up to the tall spirit's stomach. "Thank you, for saving him."

Deandra seemed surprised at the loving gesture until Draco wrapped his arms around both Deandra and Hermione, happiness flooding him when eventually Harry had overcome his shyness and wiggled his body in between them from below, joining the group hug.

"I'm sorry ma'am," the raven-haired boy said politely, "but seeing as 'Mione knows you and seems so very grateful, I assume you just saved my best friend after he took on some of my Gryffindor courage."

Deandra laughed, the walls humming, patting each of the three teens on the head once. "Yes, Prongslet. It is lovely to finally officially meet you. Even though we've met before."

Harry looked up at her, as Narcissa and Severus had started approaching carefully. "We did?" the young wizard blinked, confused.

"Remember that one time when Blaise accidentally kicked you off your broom and a soft wind put you down on the ground?" she asked him.

"That was you?" Harry asked. He turned to Draco, frowning. "You said that was the wards around the Quidditch Pitch making sure I wouldn't break my arm."

Hermione laughed. "Deandra is the wards, silly."

Deandra let go of the three of them and greeted Severus and Narcissa with a slight courtesy, smiling at them. "Don't worry. I mean neither you nor the children no harm. Draco has always thought fondly of his mother and his godfather. As long as you are on his side, I will be on yours as well."

"Could we reinstate my mum as Lady Malfoy?" Draco almost whispered. "It feels emptier without her," he said, putting his hand awkwardly on his chest, trying to feel for his mother.

"Lady Malfoy-Black, if that's alright," Narcissa said as she hugged her son closer to him, almost crushing his bones. "To honour both of our families."

"That would be lovely," Deandra agreed, waving her hand, the thread between him and his mother strengthening again. Tipsy almost cried tears of joy and hugged her mistress' leg when she could feel the bond again.

"Dobby play pranks on evil Master too now?" the other elf had asked as he ran up to them, trying to look innocent, even though they could all see the gears turning in the elf's head. Draco and Harry looked at each other and grinned.

After the introduction to Deandra as a ley spirit which had been bound to the Manor for over many centuries, his godfather had returned to inform the Headmaster of what had happened at Malfoy Manor. He wouldn't be going into any details or mentioning Deandra of course. Only that Draco had taken over as Lord Malfoy and would be starting his political duties once he came of age. He would also tell him that his three snakes would be staying at the Manor for the remainder of the weekend, giving the silver trio some time to spend together after everything they'd been through in the past twenty-four hours. Hermione had penned a quick note to Daphne and Luna as well, and Harry had written to Ginny.

"Just. This. Once," their head of House had stressed before pocketing the two notes and getting ready to floo back. "I am not an owl."

Once Severus disappeared into the flames, Harry swung his arms over his two best friends, hugging them. "He would make a good bat, though," making all of them laugh.

After spending the evening talking together and even playing some exploding snap while Tipsy had ordered pizza, something which Narcissa was eager to try, Hermione and Harry had returned to their usual rooms whenever they stayed at the Manor, getting ready for bed. Draco had told them he would stop by before he went to sleep, but that he needed to speak with his mother first. After dinner, she'd retreated to the library, enjoying a cup of tea with Deandra. His mother had been quite interested in how the spirit had been helping previous Malfoy generations, yet Narcissa had never heard about her from her now ex-husband. Deandra had been telling her about her life and how she came to be bound to the House of Malfoy for the past couple of hours. When Draco walked in, both of them smiled at him lovingly.

"Draco," his mother greeted him as she put her cup of tea on the side table next to her, getting up from the armchair she was sitting in. Deandra, noticing they needed some privacy disappeared in a cloud of silver. Narcissa hugged her son close to her, pulling his head to her shoulder to deepen the embrace before she let go of him and kissed his temple.

They were as tall now. Soon, he would be taller than her. He hoped that would be soon, then those stupid physical changes the veela blood had been doing to him would finally stop. He and Deandra had discussed it in the hospital wing after Fleur and Gabrielle had talked to him from the beds beside him. Apparently, those with veela blood could transform to reach their pique physical condition when friends and family were in danger, the magic expanding their core for short bursts of time. It was very draining, however, and Fleur had never had it happen to her ever since she turned seventeen, finally being in control of the magic. The most she'd noticed was that her eyes would flash cat-like when she was angry, or her strength would seemingly increase. She also still had her allure and could turn into a harpy if necessary, but she assumed Draco would never be able to as he didn't seem to have any of those skills now. "Thank Merlin for that", he thought. The only reason he'd been outed as, what his father so lovingly called a half-breed, was because his magic had been forcing his core to expand beyond his teenage body, making the veela attributes in him strengthened. Blaise had joked he looked good with silver hair, and Draco had smacked his pillow at his friend.

"How long have you known?" Narcissa whispered, taking him out of his musings. She looking into her son's stormy grey eyes. Her eyes. The only physical trait that showed he was a Black, just like her.

"That the veela magic had awakened in me?" he asked, confused, still lingering on his previous thoughts.

She shook her head, putting her hand lovingly on his cheek. He almost felt as if his mother was studying him, trying to see the differences between him and his father. "That Hermione is your mate."

Oh. So she had noticed too then.

"Does she know?" Narcissa asked, still cupping his cheek.

"She does," he swallowed deeply.

His mother smiled as she let go of him, returning to her armchair. Draco waited until she was seated before he allowed himself to occupy the armchair Deandra had been sitting in before, Tipsy immediately showed up with a cup of his favourite builder's tea.

"That girl has always loved you," his mother said, sipping her tea. Her eyes were still trained on him, looking for his reaction.

"As her best friend," he corrected her, bowing his head in thanks at Tipsy for the tea.

His mother chuckled as she wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin, folding her hands in her lap after she did so. "Perhaps in the beginning. But now? If you truly believe that, then you are blind, my son."

"I want her to be free," he almost whispered to his mother, his head falling into his hands in despair. His 'Mione had chosen him. She would have to as well for him to even feel comfortable having a relationship with her.

"Hermione has always been free and wild like a lioness," his mother replied, leaning back, and crossing her ankles. "You or any veela magic will never change that. You will never change her. She's independent. She wants to choose her own path. She's stubborn. Too smart for her own good. Powerful. Fierce. Passionate. Much like you…" Narcissa mused. "I can see why magic would deem her to be a suitable partner for you."

He smiled at that. They were alike. Even if 'Mione was more compassionate than him. Better. It was only because of her changing him ever so slightly the first time around that he'd become who he was now. He was grateful to have had her as his friend.

Narcissa sipped her tea and spoke up again. "Have you ever considered that what Hermione wants to choose for her future is you?"

"Mum," Draco sighed, leaning back into his armchair and closing his eyes. "We're just teenagers. Who knows what she will do with the rest of her life? Who knows what boy she will run into in the hallways next week? If she wants to choose me, I won't lie, I will be extremely happy. But I won't rush her into anything."

"Good," his mother answered, relief flooding her. "That was all I needed to know."

- March 11th, 1995, Slytherin Common Room –

Hermione was sitting with her hands in her curly hair. She'd started to tame the frizziness down ever since the Yule Ball, Lavender and Daphne teaching her some spells to keep it under control during the day. Daphne was rubbing her friend's back soothingly, telling her it was not that bad after they'd gotten a proper look at last night's edition of Witch Weekly which had been spreading through the castle like wildfire.

Harry looked extremely grossed out as he looked at the pictures published of him and Hermione in the Witch Weekly article. He was holding the article sideways, turning it from left to right and even upside down. "How did they even edit this?" he wondered. He remembered hugging Hermione after the Second Task, but this. He looked as if he was whispering sweet nothings into her ear. His sister's ear. Ginny had sent him a flirtatious note a few minutes earlier, asking if she could satisfy whatever he'd propositioned to Hermione. Luckily, his girlfriend had also thought the article a load of bollocks and had taken it good-naturedly, making Harry blush when Draco had taken the note out of his hand and read it out loud to their friends, teasing Harry.

"At least I look good," Draco joked as he was holding Tracey's copy of the magazine in his hands, admiring himself. Luckily his hair and eyes had returned to normal when they had taken the picture, only his slightly taller muscular frame still left. He couldn't help but wonder if this was what he had supposed to look like if the war hadn't come in between and turned him skinny and gaunt. In the picture, he was holding Hermione protectively, and sometimes the picture could be seen lashing out at someone who came near them.

Hermione smacked his arm. "This isn't funny," she hissed as she pointed at the title. Harry Potter's Secret Heartache. She was pictured with Harry, Viktor, and Draco. "I look like a goddamn damsel in distress!"

"No one will believe this, 'Mione," he soothed her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer as she was still pouting. "Besides, we all know that you're the smartest of the bunch of us. If you'd known beforehand that you would have been in danger underwater, you'd have stuffed Gillyweed in all of our pockets before Professor Dumbledore could stun any one of us. If any of them knew you had researched for months and developed a cure for lycanthropy… They wouldn't dare write this about you. If it wasn't to one-up Greyback and his cronies, you would have already put it into production."

Daphne leaned her head on Hermione's other shoulder and grabbed her best friend's hand. "Draco is right. Who would believe this load of bullcrap? We all know that you and Harry would never work out. But dating both Lord Malfoy and an international quidditch star…" she teased.

Draco started laughing and fist-bumped Daphne, the two snakes smirking at each other. Hermione had been so bothered by the article and they wanted her to relax, to see how funny it was if anyone believed she had been dating all three boys.

Pansy waltzed in from the dorms, Millicent Bulstrode right behind her. "So, Granger," she began haughtily. "Is it true that you've been feeding Draco love potions so that you could bind a veela to you unwillingly?"

Rage. That was all he felt as he whipped his head around at the annoying girl. He wanted to snarl at her for even suggesting that. Seeing Draco's anger, Pansy now looked at him, smirking. "And you, Draco. You might be Lord Malfoy now, but you aren't Sacred Twenty-Eight as we always thought. Nothing more than a half-breed. I guess your mummy-"

Before Draco reached for his wand, Hermione piped up. "I'm quite flattered you think I can already brew love potions. But are you jealous, Pansy? You've been pining for Draco for years, telling me I wasn't worthy of him. Yet, he's never even looked at you twice."

What. "Pansy has been doing what for the past few years?" he asked her incredulously, his stormy grey eyes meeting her deep brown. She'd never told him that Pansy had been such a bitch to her. He always just assumed that Daphne and Hermione were more compatible friends, but he didn't think the other girls were actually unfriendly toward her in the girls' common room.

She gave him a look that told him to shut up and that she would tell him later. He lifted his hand in the air in defence.

"Don't think you are better than me, mudblood," Pansy answered. "That you are better than us."

Hermione got up from the sofa they were sitting on now, crossing her arms at Pansy. Harry was looking at Daphne worriedly and even the usually gentle and quiet Blaise seemed to be ready to interrupt whatever was happening.

When the brunette witch smirked, all Draco felt was pride. "But I am better than you," she argued confidently. "I am magically superior. Far more intelligent. You are nothing more but a jealous little girl."

Pansy, being the bully that she was, did not back down. "Draco only likes you because of the creature blood in him. He wouldn't look at you twice if he was actually in control of his senses. You are nothing but a little know-it-all-"

Her feelings overwhelmed him as he got up from the couch, his body moving before he even realized he'd stood up. He couldn't see the feelings on her face, but he felt them. She looked stoic as usual, her occlumency in place. But there it was. The doubt. Doubt that he truly loved her. Was that what this had been about? A flicker of a memory showed in his mind. A library? Her occlumency in place, he felt that she was hiding something from him. Something she'd been hiding for a very long time. Something which increased the doubt in her as the thought came to the forefront. She pushed him out, not wanting him to see, keeping him out.

Pansy was still spouting crap when he stepped forward, confidently taking Hermione's hand. "If you'd allow me to clarify a few things?" he asked Hermione. He knew the little spitfire could fight her own battles, but now she had started insulting his character. She nodded at him, done with Pansy's bullshit anyway. "I have always loved Hermione. She has been my best friend since we were in our first year. I love her like I do all my friends. Even before my veela powers were awakened," he interrupted the dark-haired witch. "Perhaps if you hadn't been such an annoying bully and a hateful, jealous bitch for all of your life, my magic would have chosen you as the most compatible witch instead, Pansy." He answered harshly. He knew that was a lie. It would always be Hermione. But he loved her because she was kind-hearted, brave, and loyal. The polar opposite of Pansy. Magic had deemed her his best fit for a reason.

Pansy started stammering and Hermione then pulled him by the hand leaving the Common Room, Harry scrambling to his feet, joining them. Daphne and Blaise stayed behind, making a mental note of those who supported Pansy, and those who supported them. Good. The oldest Greengrass had started to think in terms of family ties and political alliances rather than house bonds.

"You loved me before?" Hermione whispered right before they reached the Great Hall. Draco was glad she finally talked since she'd been so quiet for the past ten minutes. He glanced over at Harry who smiled encouragingly.

"Of course, I did. You have always been my best friend. Just like Harry. I love you because both of you are my family," he answered sincerely.

"You are ours too, mate," Harry said as wiggled himself in between Draco and Hermione, slinging his arms over his two best friends' shoulders, and pulling Hermione closer to him. "Honestly, I would probably still be living under that cupboard with the Dursleys if it wasn't for the two of you."

Draco inwardly cringed at how true that statement was. He'd almost forgotten how Harry had grown up the last time. Unloved by his so-called family, with no place to truly call home. Sure, his friends and the Weasleys had taken him in. But now, he had Sirius and Amelia who treated him as their son. Not as a boy or a freak. Susan, Castor, and Polarys were now his surrogate siblings. And at least, he still had his two best friends, even if Draco had replaced Ron this time around.

"Look at us," Harry joked, feeling that both Hermione and Draco were getting emotional when they remembered how he used to live when they first met him. "Three children who grew up alone, and we all found each other."

Hermione clasped Draco's hand behind Harry's back and put her head on Harry's shoulder tears in her eyes. Potter always did know what to say, didn't he?

"Just promise me, if you two start kissing, that I won't be there to see it. You two are like my brother and my sister. I could really do without seeing that," he teased.

Draco laughed. "Why, Mr. Potter, considering the note Miss Weasley sent you and that Thursday evening when I found you two in the broom cupboard near the-"

Harry immediately let go of his friends and almost jumped into Draco's arms as he put his hand in front of the blonde's mouth, shaking his head. Draco raised an eyebrow at him. What the fuck?

"Harry! You didn't! You kissed Ginny in a broom cupboard?" Hermione scoffed, crossing her arms. Oh. He hadn't told Hermione yet about that, had he? Well. Keeping secrets from Hermione was always a bad idea.

Harry waved her off as he opened one of the doors to the Great Hall. "Yeah, yeah, I know. It's against the rules."

"No, not that," Hermione whispered, making sure no one could overhear them. "You said it was in a broom cupboard. If you were going to give Ginny her first kiss, be more of a gentleman about it. I can't believe you were so unromantic and kissed her in a bloody broom cupboard," she said, making Draco laugh.

Harry had gone completely red in the face, the blush spreading on his cheeks. "Ehm. That wasn't our first kiss," he said sheepishly as he ran off, plopping down on the far end of the Slytherin table.

"Did you know about this?" she now asked Draco, raising an eyebrow at him, challenging him to dare and lie to her face.

"I didn't know that wasn't the first time they'd kissed," he shrugged. "I was the poor thing that ran in on them when I was going to get some cleaning supplies for my godfather," he answered.

When they joined Harry and Theo for breakfast, they noticed that all of the students were gossiping, looking over at them. After a while, Neville, Luna, Susan, and Ginny also walked in and joined them as Blaise and Daphne eventually came upstairs, glancing at Hermione worryingly.

"If you worry too much you will start getting wrinkles by the time you are thirty," Luna told Blaise when he sat next to her, kissing her on the cheek in greeting. The wizard frowned at that. "Make that by the time you are twenty-nine," she quipped at him, putting a piece of toast in her mouth as she and Ginny started discussing their latest D.A.D.A. class with Professor Lupin.

Draco looked around at his friends and wondered when this had happened. They had met in the kitchens for years, but someday, house boundaries had been thrown out of the window when it came to their regular meals. Who would have thought that all four houses would be sitting at the Slytherin table, enjoying breakfast together? The banter was going back and forth, Harry holding Ginny's hand shyly as he was spooning up some porridge with his other hand, listening intently to what Susan was planning on going egg hunting with the twins during Easter. Not only the house boundaries had been broken, but the age boundaries as well. Ginny and Luna had always been the youngest of their group, Astoria starting to join from time to time as well. But now, as Cedric walked over and people made room for him to sit next to Daphne, Draco noticed how their friend group kept expanding.

Ced kissed Daphne on the cheek as well and she handed him some toast. "Lovely article I found spread out in the Hufflepuff Common Room this morning," the prefect casually said, looking at Hermione teasingly. "What a shame I wasn't involved in your ever-expanding love life, Hermione. Now no one knows how good-looking I am."

Daphne playfully nudged her boyfriend in the ribs as Hermione started blushing. "At least someone finds it funny," she said, frowning.

Their friend group went quiet as Viktor Krum approached them. "Hermyown," he began. "I vould like to talk to you about de article…"

She nodded once, getting up from the table, all eyes following her. "What are they on about?" Harry asked, leaning over and whispering to his best friend, knowing he could easily listen in if he wanted to.

"I am not going to listen in, Harry," Draco scolded him. "Hermione deserves her privacy."

He noticed how a lot of the school's eyes were trained on the duo as they cast a privacy bubble around themselves in the corner of the Great Hall. Draco was trying not to be too obvious as he was keeping an eye on them, but he couldn't help but look at her. How she nodded at him, her sympathetic doe eyes looking up at the Bulgarian seeker. She seemed… Sad. No. Scratch that. Sorry. The duo shook hands and Hermione came back to her friends, a smile on her face.

"Viktor agreed that we should just be friends," she stated as she poured herself a glass of warm milk. "All this gossip is honestly getting out of hand. I mean that picture of me and him." A shiver ran down her spine.

Draco hadn't even wanted to think of the picture that they'd used. Krum had tentatively and sweetly kissed Hermione on the night of the Yule Ball. He knew that had been real. She had confessed to him the first time around how Viktor Krum had been her first kiss.

A few minutes before they were about to finish up, the post arrived. Ulysses, Draco's eagle owl flew down. He was carrying so many letters. Oh no. After handing his owl some bacon to nibble on, he started to open them. Multiple witches, and some wizards, were commenting on his obvious status as part-veela. Some of it was hate mail. Of course, it was. The Malfoy family had been hated for generations, ever since his grandfather became Lord Malfoy. A few brave witches and wizards had congratulated him on his inheritance and were wondering if he was accepting betrothal contracts. Some other letters were sent anonymously by angry teenage witches, seeing as a harlot who cheated on him with both The-Boy-Who-Lived and Viktor Krum, should not be considered to be the object of his affections. After reading about five of those letters, he decided to see if his mother had written and to just burn the rest, casting a quick Incendio at it.

Harry and Ginny were also giggling at some of the letters, questioning Harry's virtue. Harry, ready to burn them, was stopped by his girlfriend who took the letter that was currently on the top of the pile, looking livid. "I will personally answer this one," was all she said. He remembered the youngest Weasley could cast a mean Bat-Bogey Hex so he hoped that whoever had written to Harry, would be aware of that fact and could run for the hills before the youngest Weasley found them.

Hermione had been ripping open some of the letters, and Draco had to almost laugh at her antics as her hair got more and more frizzy by the second, her anger clearly showing. "They think I am a harlot," she hissed, ripping up another one. "Honestly, I will take a page from your book and burn these," she told Draco.

Right when she was about to scrape the envelopes together, both Harry and Draco noticed something was amiss at the same time. They reached out, trying to stop Hermione from touching a letter on the bottom of the pile, but they were too late. As soon as she touched it, she hissed and cursed. "Bloody hell that hurts!" she yelped.

"Let's go to the hospital wing," Draco suggested, looking at her hands which were covered in boils. "Those look nasty."

Hermione nodded and surprised almost everyone at the table when she cast a wandless numbing spell at her hands, trying to ease the pain. She raised an eyebrow at them. "What? We've all been practicing for the tournament. I happen to be good at healing charms."

"Harry, we should write to Auntie," Susan said, pulling him back down as he wanted to accompany Draco and Hermione to the hospital wing. Daphne agreed, and soon the three of them were discussing what to write in the letters.

Neville pulled out a protective container he used for herbology out of his book bag. "We should probably make sure the evidence doesn't get contaminated, or worse, touch anyone else. These can hold toxic plants, so I am sure they can hold a boiling curse," he said as he started levitating the letters into the ever-expanding box. The others thanked Neville for his thoughtfulness, Harry clapping him on the back. Neville smiled at his friends' praise.

"That was impressive," Draco whistled as they walked out of the Great Hall, Hermione's sleeves rolling up so she could stretch her arms out in front of her. "Wandless casting."

She huffed. "You do it all the time. And silently. Has Deandra been training you?" she guessed. "If so, I could use some more help. I'm quite good with the theory, but grasping the concept of silent spells… Perhaps she has a better way to explain it than the books."

Draco gasped in fake shock, trying to keep Hermione distracted from the pain. "Miss Dagworth-Granger! Don't let Madam Pince hear you say that! You have just betrayed your precious books."

She nudged him in the side with her elbow, making him laugh. "So, Deandra? Or Severus? Who should I ask?"

"Both. Partially," he shrugged, not wanting to go in too deep on where he'd actually learnt it and why. Having the Dark Lord as your guest of honour made it so you needed to get creative with your spellcasting if you wanted to not end up under a Cruciatus curse every day. Best to not be seen or heard. Best not to be seen or heard trying out spells to remove that damned mark. Even though it hadn't touched his skin in years, he scratched his arm, the memory giving him shivers.

"Partially? So, there's more to the story?" she questioned as she started to twitch her hands, resisting to urge to scratch the boils that were starting to annoy her under the numbing charm.

He hated keeping things from her. But he had to. "I will tell you, someday," he answered, looking down at her. "I promise."

"I don't like that you've been keeping secrets from me," she answered as he opened one of the main hallway doors for her, letting her slip by him.

"I'm sorry, love. But what else can I do to keep you interested? Isn't that what girls like? Mysterious and broody boys? That's at least what one of my fans wrote to me today," he said, trying to ease the tension.

"Are you sure you haven't just been reading my romance novels after you finished the fantasy and science fiction part of my personal collection?" she questioned as he opened the doors of the Hospital Wing for her, taking her bookbag carefully from her shoulder. Madam Pomfrey would need to be able to take a proper look at the boils that were slowly spreading up her wrists and lower arms now.

"I can neither confirm nor deny such claims," he told her. "Although if I should believe some of the older Ravenclaw and Gryffindor students I am quite good at doing the mysterious, protective, caring, rich snob who is also a little bit of a bad boy thing. I mean what's not to like?"

She rolled her eyes at him and smirked. "You don't need to sell yourself, Malfoy. I know you. You forgot to add spoilt self-righteous prat to the list."

He laughed at her accurate description of him, ruffling her hair when Madam Pomfrey approached him. The mediwitch was immensely angry, commenting how the wards should keep letters like that out as she started gently covering Hermione's hands and lower arms with some thick pink paste while she sat down on a stool next to the hospital bed she had guided Hermione towards.

"We will just need to wait a little, dear," she said to Hermione. "Would you like me to give you something for the pain?"

"It's alright," the brunette answered as she leaned back against the hospital bed. It had been put upright so Hermione could sit rather than lie down and Draco fluffed the pillow in her back to make her more comfortable. "I already cast a numbing charm on it."

"You did?" Poppy asked, surprised. "Smart thinking, dear. The boys should be happy they have you hanging around them, considering they always end up here. Damned quidditch," she muttered as she got up from her chair. "I'll go get you a cup of tea."

Draco plopped into the armchair next to Hermione's bed, transfiguring it so it would be a bit taller and he could rest his feet on the end of his best friend's bed. He touched her shoe with the tip of his own and he relaxed, seeping some of his family magic into her to ease her pain. She smiled at him gratefully and he could feel her mentally thanking Deandra as well.

His best friend raised her eyebrow at him when the uncomfortable feeling resided. "Don't you need to go to class? Even Lupin will take house points from you if you don't show up," she scolded.

Draco put his arms behind his head, closing his eyes. "He won't," he said. "Even if he did, you'd make them back next class with McGonagall. I swear she's still mad you aren't one of her cubs. And I don't need to go to class. Only Harry can beat me in D.A.D.A. anyway. Besides, I'd rather stay with you. You'll get bored."

He could feel her feelings of doubt enter her mind again. And that damned library. Before he could ask her what it meant, she'd whispered. "Are you staying with me because of the bond?"

He opened one eye at her, taking in her tiny frame as she was holding up her arms. He saw her mutter a feather-light charm on her arms, making it easier to keep them in the air. When had she become so efficient at wandless magic? Sure, they had been training all together, and Hermione had always been a powerful and talented witch. Last time, he just never saw her cast anything during fourth year. Probably because they only met each other in the library sometimes, rather than spending at least a few hours every day together. "It's not because of any bond or any veela magic," he answered sincerely. "When are you going to get it into your head? This is what friends do. If Harry was lying here, wouldn't we be sitting here with him too? Merin, we've done so a million times already I feel like."

She seemed to contemplate his answer for a moment, before agreeing with his statement, nodding. Her thoughts were still distracted, however. He could tell. To ease her feelings, he offered to read her some chapter in their D.A.D.A. book since they were missing out on class and she gratefully accepted, listening to him drone on about vampires.

When he'd almost reached the end of the chapter, he looked up at her. "I can feel the gears turning," he said. "And it is not about how to most efficiently defend yourself from the creatures of the night. Why don't you tell me what's up?"

She looked at him, frowning, ticking of a mental list in her head it seemed like. "So, you don't need a bond to want to spend time with me? To like me for me?" she wanted to confirm.

He sighed and closed the book. He looked at her arms and it seemed like the boils were finally starting to get smaller. Thank Merlin. They might be gone in time for dinner. He absentmindedly took some more of the past as Madam Pomfrey had instructed and started waving his wand to apply another thin coat on her arms.

"Deandra and I have talked about this a lot if you would want her perspective on things," he admitted. "All the bond does is guide me to you because magic knows we are compatible. It doesn't make me like you. Let's say I was a pure-blooded git and acted like my father and called you a mudblood. Would you have liked me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

She frowned at him, muttering another feather-light charm at herself. "You would never," she argued back.

Oh. How innocent and naive she was. He had done exactly that the first time around. This was why he was scared of telling her. What if… If she'd hate him for what he'd done to her? For lying to her? He had made peace with risking to lose her as his future wife. He couldn't make peace with losing her as his friend. "Just answer the question, 'Mione."

She thought for a second. "No," she answered honestly. "You'd have to show me you were trustworthy and that you'd changed before I would ever consider becoming friends with you."

"Exactly," he said, remembering that had been exactly what happened last time, glad that even though there had been so many changes in her life, she was still so much like herself. If only she knew the influence she had had on him in making him a better person. Making him who he was today "All the bond would do then would be to make it so you would more easily find me. The fact that you are for all intents and purposes a Malfoy descendant, even if adopted into the House, also helps with that. Deandra has been wondering if my veela magic would have ever come out if I'd been an actual prat to you. You know my father has never come into his veela inheritance, and that my mother wasn't deemed compatible with him by magic itself."

"So it doesn't mean that we have to like each other? The veela magic I mean?" she asked. "Our friendship is real?"

"Of course it is," he sighed, getting up and sitting on the side of the bed, putting his hand on her shoulder. "Remember what Fleur told us? Multiple veelas in her family have been denied by their mates before. There's always a choice. After almost four years I thought you would realize, you are my best friend before anything else. I will always have your back."

She smiled up at him. "And I yours," she said. "I just can't wrap my head around why you…"

"Why I what?" he urged her on. He hadn't been the only one keeping secrets. He knew her well enough to know that.

"Never mind," she sighed, closing her eyes, indicating the conversation was over for now.

Draco slipped down into his armchair and dozed off for a little while, as Hermione had levitated a book in front of her and was magically turning the pages. When he woke up, he was impressed by her wandless skill again, and told her so, before casting a quick tempus charm. Almost three in the afternoon. The others were probably almost done with Hagrid's class, he mused.

"'Mione," he began, making her look at him, the book falling into her lap when he broke her concentration. "You, me, Harry, we will always be the silver trio. Always be together. Well. We will be the silver trio plus the two other annoying Slytherins, as well as the idiotic pair of Gryffindors, the lovely Ravenclaw, and the three cuddly Hufflepuffs."

"Only Luna is lovely?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow at him inquisitively.

"Of course, Luna is the only one who gets me like you and Harry do," he said. "Also, I think we should change the school's nickname for her from Looney Lovegood, to Lovely Lovegood."

Hermione smiled at him. "Blaise has been worried about that," she admitted. They had all noticed how their friend got bullied for years, Luna seemingly unbothered by it, always dodging the subject when they brought it up.

It was quiet for a while longer, Draco getting up and stretching his arms and legs before opening the window behind Hermione, letting some fresh air in.

"Promise the three of us will always be together?" he heard her whisper.

"I promise," he said, right as Harry burst into the Hospital Wing, his eyebrows singed off his face, confirming his statement as the final part of their trio came running.

"Hermione, love, are you alright?" the raven-haired boy asked, smacking down his bookbag and falling down into the armchair on the other side of Hermione's bed, greeting Draco with a small wave.

"I'm fine, thank you for asking," she said. "Why are your eyebrows gone, though?"

"Oh," Harry said as he conjured a small mirror to look at himself, waving his wand to return his eyebrows to his face. "You wouldn't happen to know how to deal with a full-grown blast-ended skrewt, would you 'Mione?" he asked sheepishly.

"What did you get yourself into now, Harry James Potter?" she sighed, winking at Draco when their best friend started explaining how, during their Care of Magical Creatures class, Hagrid had accidentally told them at least one would be used in the third task.