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: Eternal thanks to my beta, GeekandProud (AO3) a.k.a. AnimeIsMyCrack (FF) who also made the cover image for this story.
Author's note 2: For the past two months there have been a lot of issues with the website. I don't see most of the reviews, I don't get notifications, and my view counter on this story has been stuck on 0 for the past few months. For those messages that come through, thank you for pointing out if something went wrong. If you don't want to deal with any of these issues, like me, then the story is also on AO3.
- Snape's office, 24th of February 1995 -
As soon as the second task was over, Lucius Malfoy grabbed his son by the shoulder aggressively and dragged him down to the Hogwarts dungeons. Draco knew he had provoked his father's fury after his defiance by the Black Lake. Both his mother and godfather had warned him of his father's anger and disapproval after all.
With a stomp of Lucius' cane onto the stone floors, the door to Snape's office burst open and slammed against the wall. Empty potion vials were rattling in the wooden cupboards, Lord Malfoy's anger nearly making them explode. His magic rippled off him in waves as he pushed his son backwards into the nearest bench.
Draco knew his father was cruel. Disobeying him so openly had perhaps not been the right choice. But what else should he have done? Hermione was in danger. She could have died. He closed his eyes for a split second and reached out for the reassuring pulse of her magic through the life-bond. Good. It was still there, like a beacon in all of this darkness. He had feared that the vow would be fulfilled when he plunged into the lake. He didn't know if it was a good or a bad sign that magic had not deemed his actions to be sufficient for removing the bond once and for all. Did it perhaps mean that something worse was coming for her? Or was it thanks to Harry, Cedric, and Bill tagging along that magic didn't think that she'd owed her life to him solely?
The door swung open again, interrupting his thoughts. Draco's mother and godfather hurried inside, their wands raised and their faces etched with concern and urgency. Seemed like his mother had rushed off to find his godfather after he dove into the Black Lake.
The elder Malfoy did not care about their intrusion, and swung his cane at his son harshly, hitting him square across the face. The blow sent Draco reeling and he could already feel a bruise forming as he stumbled backwards and grabbed his cheek. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.
Both Malfoys' magic crackled in the air. Glass and vials shattered as their emotions ran rampant.
"What do you think to achieve by doing this, Lucius?!" Narcissa yelled furiously as she ran over to Draco, shielding him with her body. She still had her wand trained on her husband's chest, warning him to not touch her son again.
His godfather warded and silenced the room against any potential onlookers and intruders. This was a family matter to resolve after all. Pure-blood customs demanded that they solve it away from prying eyes.
" Draco ?" Hermione whispered, her worry seeping into his mind as she had gained consciousness again. "Where are you?"
" Just having a little chat with my father in the dungeons ." He replied tersely, severing the connection. He did not need her to witness this.
"Are you opposing me too, Narcissa?" Lucius threatened her, his voice dripping with obvious contempt. "Is it you who has been corrupting our son? As if being friends with mudbloods, half-bloods, and blood traitors wasn't bad enough… Now he is willing to sacrifice his life for one of them!" He looked at Draco menacingly. "Tell me, Draco. Exactly when was it you thought you could have the mudblood? After all, being able to disobey me, means that your allegiance lies elsewhere. With her."
He spat in his son's face, fueling Narcissa's anger at his actions towards their son even more.
"You accuse me of corrupting our son?" Narcissa hissed, her own magic starting to crackle around her. "Take a look in the bloody mirror, Lucius. If anyone has been raising him with lies and deceit, it's you !" All of her bottled-up annoyance at her husband's behaviour was getting the best of her after all these years. His father's anticipation of the Dark Lord's return probably hadn't done their marriage any good either.
Lucius looked at her, his eyes slightly crazed. He lifted his cane, his wand hidden deep within the wood. "Don't presume you can threaten me, Narcissa ."
"Don't you dare to lay one more hand on our son." Her lips were pursed and a scowl was planted on her delicate face. Draco had never felt his mother ooze out so much magic. Usually, she was calm and collected. The epitome of Slytherin cunning. Now, she seemed ready for battle.
"What a disgrace! To have a son who loves a mudblood, regardless if she is the Dagworth-Granger heir. I've always had my suspicions. I actually believed all that nonsense of having both her and the Potter brat as our political allies. But those were all a ruse to manoeuvre her at your side." Lucius looked almost as unhinged as Draco's Aunt Bellatrix. "How dare you even think of sullying the Malfoy line? I should have secured your betrothal to a pure-blood family when I had the chance!"
Snape, a half-blood himself, frowned. True, it had been Narcissa who had extended her friendship to Severus first, but he'd always considered himself welcome at Malfoy Manor. To hear Lucius speak so hatefully of a girl born to squibs… He stepped beside Draco and his mother, flanking the blond from his other side and silently offering him his support.
Draco couldn't help but feel… Loved. Both his mother and godfather clearly wanted to aid him.
"Don't you dare say such a thing!" Narcissa hissed. "Draco has grown to be more kind, ambitious, determined, and intelligent than I ever hoped. Why would you ever consider saying such a thing to your son? Who cares who he loves? As if something is wrong with half-bloods and muggle-borns! I don't care what you think, but you will not speak of Draco and his friends in this manner. He's our son for Merlin's sake."
Lucius' eyes narrowed suspiciously at his wife's and Severus' protective stance in front of his son. Those two had always been very good friends. "Is he? My son? Or did the potion master by your side brew a potion when he was born so he would look like-" he insinuated bitterly.
"Lucius," Severus warned him, his grip on his wand tightening.
The tension was escalating drastically and Draco could feel Hermione's familiar magic approaching. Dear Merlin, please let her stay out of this. He hoped that Harry or Daphne would be with her. She should not be roaming the halls alone in her condition. He himself wasn't feeling too well after their adventures in the Black Lake earlier that day.
Narcissa's anger was replaced by disgust and disbelief at her husband's words. "Are you truly questioning my fidelity right now?"
"You've ruined my son! My heir! " he raged. "You and your virtuous ways as you like to call them! I've had to listen to you complain and argue ever since that damned day you let him wander Diagon Alley on his own. I cannot bear this any longer."
"Don't talk to Mother like that," Draco said in a low, yet threatening manner. "Or about Hermione. Perhaps some of her 'muddy blood' would cleanse our lineage of whatever madness that affected you and grandfather to make you so unhinged."
Lucius sneered at his son. "You and your mudblood whore -"
Narcissa's deafening slap on her husband's cheek stopped his insult short.
Draco couldn't help but smirk. The worst way to hurt Lucius Malfoy was to stomp on his beliefs. Hurting him the muggle way, as his mother had done, must have been a severe blow to his pride.
"One more word out of your foul mouth and I will make sure you lose your tongue, Lucius." the formidable witch hissed, sneering at him. "Do not 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." Her dark curls cascaded freely down her back, prying loose from her usual sleek bun as her magic flowed through her angrily.
Lord Malfoy touched his reddened cheek in disbelief and blinked at his wife. His confusion soon turned into resolve, and he held his cane against his face to remove the mark she'd left. "You dare strike me ?"
"I will not tolerate your insults towards Draco or the people he loves. Not as long as I am alive!" She challenged him in return.
"I can make life very difficult for you, Cissy," he threatened as he leaned closer to her face, attempting to intimidate her. "I could easily remove you from the House of Malfoy. For years I have seen you show kindness to half-breeds, mudbloods, and blood traitors. I have seen you give them a seat at our table. Make them feel welcome in our home under the guise of your lust for social status." He looked down his nose at her. "But I know you, Narcissa Black. You're no different from your traitorous sister, Andromeda. You even had the ambition to become a healer just like her, before I managed to talk that foolishness out of your mind. I never thought you actually cared for all of your ill-bred projects. But you do. Befriending those of lower status was never just about your image, now was it?"
Narcissa bristled, but she didn't deny any of the accusations her husband had thrown at her.
Draco's mind raced. Had his mother truly wanted to become a healer like his Aunt Andromeda? Was he the only one who hadn't seen through her and her haughty ways? He'd always assumed that as a socialite, it was her status that was most important to her. That perhaps, she'd made friends in different circles to gain more power.
But what if it never had been about power? If what his father was saying was true, about her group of friends and her desire to help people as a mediwitch… His mother had always been like this, a woman who genuinely cared. Even in the first timeline… She'd always been opposed to his father's thinking, even if she voiced her opinions ever so subtly. How disappointed she must have been in her only son to share in his bigoted father's beliefs.
Fuck.
Regret washed over him. If only he could go back, and show her… Show her he was like her, that he had changed. That he was nothing like his father. That he'd finally seen reason.
A sudden, unsettling emptiness gnawed at Draco's magic. Something shifted in the back of his mind. It took him only a few seconds to figure out what. There were no longer any strands connecting him to his mother. He stepped forward, wanting to grab his mum. If she was no longer part of the family magic, that could only mean that- "Mother," he choked.
" I've lost her. " Deandra solemnly confirmed his suspicions. " Your mother is no longer the Mistress of the Manor. It's just him and you. He cut the ties to her as soon as he deemed her a Black, rather than a Malfoy. Her wedding vows made it so she would never be allowed to go against your father. If she did… She would no longer be part of the House of Malfoy. "
"You think you can intimidate me ?" Narcissa hissed, finally free to truly speak her mind, as she noticed the Lady Malfoy ring dissolve in a silver mist as it disappeared from her finger. "You can void whatever wedding vows you want to, simply because I wasn't a good little obedient wife like you wanted me to be!"
Draco recoiled at his mother's words. Had his father really put such a clause into their marriage contract? He wasn't delusional, but he'd at least assumed that once upon a time, they had truly loved one another. Perhaps that had just been his youthful naivety?
"I don't need you, Lucius Malfoy. I was a Black long before I became your wife," she retorted pridefully.
"But he has never been a Black." Lucius smirked gleefully at her before he turned to Draco. "If I can't touch you, then perhaps I should find myself a new heir… You and your spawn can consider yourselves-"
Draco didn't hear the rest of his father's announcement. Panic flooded through him, his heart pounding heavily in his chest. Was he truly going to lose everything? His name? His legacy?
" Draco. You have to act now! " Deandra urged in his mind. " I can't go against the current Lord Malfoy if you are not his heir. You need to take -"
The world seemed to spin and the blond stumbled before he grasped onto the nearest desk. What was this feeling of emptiness? Had his father actually started to remove the bonds between them? Was Deandra truly gone if his father no longer considered him the true heir?
Anger and sadness filled him, but his resolve also hardened. How dare his father break the vows he'd made to his mother and betray their family? How dare he take Deandra and the Malfoy name from him? The spirit had protected him all these years, but she was more to him than a mere guardian. She'd lived through his troubles with him and cared for him like a second mother. Like the second parent, he should have had. She was his companion and his confidante. She deserved better than to be relegated to be nothing more than a myth, with no one to believe in her.
Luckily for him, there were two who still believed in Deandra, even if his father never would.
Hermione would be his only shot.
Draco knew what he had to do. Even if both Deandra and Hermione would forever and always lovingly refer to his next move as a moment of foolish Gryffindor bravery, nothing could stop him now.
" Mione, I need your help, " he told her as he felt her magic rushing towards him in the hallways.
Luckily for him, his father was positioned right in front of the fireplace. Using his quidditch-honed reflexes, he both tackled his father backwards and managed to grab a handful of floo powder. "Malfoy Manor!" He shouted just in time before his father completely cast him out and removed him from the wards.
All he could hear as they tumbled through the green flames was Hermione's urgent knocking on Snape's office door, and his mother screaming his name in terror.
"Pathetic, just like your mother!" Lucius spat as they landed in the drawing room.
Draco noticed his father managed to keep himself upright, using his cane as a counterweight. The blond himself struggled to his feet, the floorboards creaking underneath him. How he hated this blasted room. It was always a grim reminder of the night that she'd died.
Tipsy popped in, clearly distressed and feeling lost as she too had felt the bond to her Mistress break. "Master," she addressed Lucius. "Mistress Narcissa. Is she alright, she-"
The little elf jumped in surprise as Lucius swung his cane at Draco, hitting him in the ribs. Draco gasped for air as he stumbled backwards, pain shooting through him as blood started staining his shirt. Why did that damned thing have to have fangs?
"She is your mistress no more." The elder Malfoy coldly informed the confused elf as he casually cleaned the blood off the top of his cane. Tipsy wanted to reach out to Draco, to help him, but felt she no longer could. The hurt was evident in her eyes as she wanted to fight off the oppressive magic binding her.
"Master?" Tipsy's ears drooped with worry before she too was hit across the face with the cane.
Dobby apparated into the room nearly instantly, realising the head house elf had gotten hurt. He seemed furious but was sadly bound to Malfoy family magic and could not help Draco either.
"Did you actually believe that you could stop me from getting rid of you as my heir?" Lucius taunted his son, striking him again, each blow augmented with dark magic.
Draco crumpled to the floor, his every move feeling like a struggle. He tried to stand up and stall for time, clinging to the hope that Hermione would arrive soon and that his theory was right. Deandra would need Hermione's presence in order to intervene and unleash the ancient magic that bound her. After all, if Lucius denounced Draco as his heir, there was still one other living descendant of Armand Malfoy. Even if she'd come from an adopted branch, she was the last remaining member besides Lucius. Until his father had any other children, Hermione was the true heir. In his pride and arrogance, the Master of Malfoy Manor had forgotten that one important detail.
He could only imagine how Deandra was wailing in anger and trying to reach through the wards to reach him.
Draco grabbed his wand and tried to defend himself, but his efforts were futile. A silent diffendo slashed across his wand arm, making him grunt in pain. Cut off from the Malfoy family magic he was now vulnerable in his own home. Perhaps… This hadn't been such a good idea after all.
His father dodged the desperate Expelliarmus he threw at him. Now that Deandra had left him, he only had the power of a fourteen-year-old boy. If only his core was better developed, then perhaps he would have stood a chance against his father. Sadly, his strength was limited due to his youth.
"Foolish boy," Lucius taunted him as he cast another hex at Draco, this one cutting him across his left arm. He was losing an awful amount of blood. Not the best conditions considering he'd spent the better part of the past twenty-four hours underwater and had strained his magic to help rescue Hermione and Gabrielle. He felt nauseous and weak.
Then, the fireplace flared a familiar shade of green as Hermione, Harry, Narcissa, and Severus stepped through. No wards would be able to keep out the Malfoy Heir. Or well, heiress, in this case.
The brunette's magic crackled around her with undeniable force, even if she still looked sickly pale after her earlier endeavours in the Black Lake. Alongside her, a silver hue materialised, surprising everyone but Draco and Hermione.
Deandra looked royally pissed off and was seething with anger. Her long silver hair was down to her waist and she was dressed in battle robes as dark as the night sky. He realised now, why she had been a warrior in ancient times. Why she was called the defender of man.
His father's mouth fell open as he stared at the spirit. Lucious staggered backwards. "Impossible!" he gasped.
With a sigh of relief, Draco slid down the wall slowly. He was drained. Physically. Magically. Mentally even. He was losing so much blood he even wondered if he was imagining Deandra's familiar magic settling around him.
"I am here, little dragon." Her ethereal voice echoed through the drawing room, the walls themselves trembling with her magic. "Whenever Malfoy blood is spilled in our ancestral home, I will come to Armand's descendants' aid. No matter what your fool of a father has decided."
Draco barely blinked before Deandra was kneeling beside him. "Are you alright?" she asked as she put her hand on his head. Her long silver fingers ran lovingly through his hair. He could feel her magic kneading his muscles, reaching straight into his core to try and undo the damage his father had done to him. "What you did was foolish. Brave, but foolish. Almost as if Harry's Gryffindor ways finally rubbed off on you," she chided softly.
"I'm no longer the heir," he murmured, confused by her continued support. "Mione is the rightful heiress, she wasn't cast out-"
"Ah yes. Your father's arrogance in overlooking those he deems lesser than him would always be his downfall," the spirit interjected, shooting an angry glare at the elder Malfoy, who stood still in shock. Four wands were trained on him.
Deandra turned to Hermione. "Little one, if you'd be so kind. I have been waiting far too long to cast the horror that is Lucius Malfoy out of our family."
Hermione's wand was still aimed straight at Lucius, and Draco couldn't help but see the satisfactory grin forming its way onto her face. He'd nearly forgotten why it was so dangerous to cross Hermione Granger when she was on a warpath.
"Most certainly." She nodded, lifting up her chin at Lucius, and grinned. She too had been waiting for this moment. "I, Hermione Dagworth-Granger, descendant of Celeste Malfoy and heir to the House of Malfoy, accept Draco Lucius Malfoy's claim as head of House Malfoy. In accordance with the vow our ancestor made with the Defender of Man, I empower the Spirit of Malfoy Manor to enact justice and her wrath on those who have betrayed our House. So mote it be."
"No! You do not have the right! You filthy little mudblood! " Lucius yelled as he raised his wand at Hermione threateningly.
"It is you who does not have the right, father !" Draco stated, the magic pulsing within him. With a wave of his hand, silver threads sprouted from between the floorboard and pulled his father down on his knees making him bow before the new Master of the Manor.
Draco felt the same rush of power as he'd felt all those years ago when his wife had died in this exact same room. This time, he was prepared, however. He knew exactly what to expect and basked in the powers Hermione and Deandra had bestowed upon him by making him Lord Malfoy. His core was no longer battered and bruised because of the atrocities he'd lived through during the war. It no longer mattered he was so young, as he was now legally of age since he came into his true inheritance.
"What have you done!" Lucius yelled in despair as he saw the lordship ring on his finger was gone, and now rested on his son's hand instead.
The thick silver and black ring felt heavy with both magic and responsibility. Draco couldn't help but study it for a moment, before blinking and magically moving it to rest on his middle finger, giving his father a good view of it. Served that asshole right.
Deandra stalked over to Lucius, like a predator ready to devour its prey. Draco had never seen his father this scared when she crouched down next to him and lifted his chin with her finger, making him look up at her.
"No… You are not real. My father said you were nothing but a tale made to scare him into submission as a child. You cannot possibly-" Lucius said.
The whole Manor rumbled with angry magic as Deandra lowly whispered to him, the typical Malfoy smirk plastered on her face. "I am more than a mere scary bedtime story, Lucius." The glass in the windows was starting to tremble, almost as if it was ready to burst. "You have dishonoured your House. Your family. Your legacy. You did not even attempt to uphold Armand Malfoy's virtues. You are nothing more than a coward, and were never pure of conviction. By the power of the vow made between me and your ancestor, I strip you of your Malfoy heritage. You will be exiled from our magic and wisdom. An outcast henceforth. So mote it be."
No sooner had Deandra spoken the words, or Draco could feel the bond between him and his father snap. It was gone. As simple as that.
With a wave of Deandra's hands, the windows to the drawing room flew open, inviting in the cold February air. Her magical force literally flicked the former Lord out of Manor, as if he was nothing more than a ragdoll. His body soared all the way across the grounds until both Draco and Hermione let out a deep sigh. The wards strengthened and sealed behind Lucius Malfoy. He would never be able to enter his ancestral home again.
"Good fucking riddance," Draco muttered as he flicked his wand to close the windows. "So, heiress Malfoy-Dagworth-Granger. What a mouthful that is. Welcome to the family. Officially this time," he joked as Hermione ran straight to him and hugged him tightly.
"You have no idea how terrified I was when Deandra came to me," she whispered, only loud enough for him to hear. Her eyes lingered on him for a second as she brushed some hair out of his face and smiled, before letting Narcissa come and embrace her son.
"Until I decide to have some offspring, it would seem you're spared the title," he chuckled in her arms. "Unless you would prefer to be my heiress, mother?"
"I'm too old to be any heiress," she joked as she checked him for injuries, glad that all of his wounds had been healed. "But what I would like to know is exactly who has been protecting my son all this time?"
Narcissa looked up at Deandra's towering form. Hermione had one of her arms wrapped around the spirit, barely tall enough to reach the spirit's middle. She was still clearly drained and needed rest.
The spirit smiled lovingly as she put her hand on top of Hermione's head. The colour returned to the young witch's cheeks nearly instantly. "There are some perks to being an heiress, rather than just the family member of a side branch," Deandra explained when Hermione noticed she was no longer fatigued. "As for your question, Narcissa. I am the spirit of Malfoy Manor, and have been so for nearly a thousand years. I mean neither you, nor Severus, any harm. Draco has always spoken fondly of both his mother and godfather. As long as you are on his side, I will be on yours."
Severus seemed to want to question the ethereal being until Harry spoke up. "Have we met before?" He inquired curiously. "This might seem strange, but your magic feels so familiar."
Deandra laughed and the halls hummed with her, already making the Manor a brighter place. "Yes, we have met, Prongslet. It is lovely to officially meet you. Remember when Blaise accidentally kicked you off your broom a few years back? The magic that caught you and safely put you on the ground was not just the Manor or the quidditch field's protective charms. It was me."
"That was you ?" Harry turned to Draco in surprise and frowned. " You said that it was the wards around the Quidditch Pitch that saved me, but it was her all along!"
Hermione chuckled, breaking the tension. "Deandra is the wards, silly. Technically, he spoke the truth, even if he kept her existence hidden." Her eyes widened and she seemed thoughtful for a second, until her occlumency put a shield on her own feelings. How he hated that she could do that. But he supposed, he used the same magic to mask his own feelings from her.
Shifting the conversation, Draco started to wonder. "Could we reinstate my mum as Lady Malfoy?" He addressed both Deandra and Hermione. "My magic feels… empty without her." He put his hand awkwardly on his chest as if trying to find where she had gone.
"Lady Malfoy-Black, if that's alright," Narcissa stated. "To honour both lineages."
"That would be lovely," Deandra agreed. Hermione nodded in confirmation, and with a wave of the spirit's hand, the thread between him and his mother strengthened once more. It felt like a relief to have both his mother and the spirit by his side again.
Tipsy and Dobby, who had kept to themselves during the power struggle, nearly cried tears of joy when they too felt their mistress' magic joining the family's again.
"Dobby play pranks on evil Master too now?" the elf offered, trying to look as innocent as possible. Draco knew exactly what the elf was playing at, however, and could already see the gears turning in his little head.
After being introduced to Deandra, Severus returned to Hogwarts to inform the Headmaster of what had happened at Malfoy Manor. He promised he would be as discreet as possible, and to not mention the spirit in the slightest. The three Slytherins were even allowed to stay overnight at the Manor after their eventful day.
Hermione penned a quick note for Daphne and handed it to her Head of House, looking at him expectantly. He glanced between her and the paper, before rolling his eyes and letting out a deep sigh.
"Just. This. Once," Snape stressed before pocketing the note and walking over to the fireplace. "I am not an owl."
As soon as he'd disappeared in the green flames, Harry swung his arms over his two best friends' shoulders, ready to make them laugh. "He would make a good bat, though."
The evening unfolded with laughter and games as the silver trio joked around and played exploding snap. Dinner was an unusual affair with Tipsy ordering pizza, a novelty for Narcissa. Afterward, Lady Malfoy-Black and Deandra retired to the library for a much-needed discussion.
Draco spent some more time with his friends before they all agreed they should head to bed. The blond excused himself to bid his mother goodnight, telling his friends he would head upstairs soon.
When Draco walked into the library, both Narcissa and Deandra smiled at him lovingly.
"Draco," his mother greeted him as she put her cup of tea on the side table next to her. Deandra noticed that they needed some privacy, and said her goodbyes, as Narcissa approached her son. She hugged him close to her and pulled his head onto her shoulder to deepen the embrace between them, her maternal love showing. Eventually, she let go and kissed his temple.
"How long have you known?" Lady Malfoy-Black whispered as she searched her son's stormy grey eyes. Her eyes. The only physical trait that showed he was a Black, just like her.
"About Deandra?" he asked, puzzled.
Narcissa shook her head and put her hand on his cheek. He almost felt as if his mother was studying him, trying to see the differences between him and his father. "That you love Hermione."
Oh.
"Does she know?" Narcissa asked.
Draco hesitated. "I think she does," he admitted softly.
His mother smiled and returned to her armchair. Draco waited until she was seated before he allowed himself to occupy the armchair Deandra vacated.
Tipsy immediately showed up with a cup of his favourite builder's tea.
"That girl has always loved you," his mother mused, sipping her own tea. Her eyes were still trained on him, waiting for his reaction.
"As her best friend," he clarified, bowing his head in thanks at Tipsy for the tea. "She has no idea what it would be like to truly be in love with me ."
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 once. But now? If you truly believe that, then you are blind, my son. She sees you. All of you."
"I don't want her to see my flaws." He confided quietly to his mother, his head falling into his hands in despair. "I want her to be free from the darkness that comes with being a Malfoy."
"Even though she is a snake, Hermione has always been free and wild like a lioness," his mother observed, leaning back, and crossing her ankles. "Any boy who vies for her affections will never change that. You will never change her. If she's decided that it is you she wants, then you should learn to accept it. She's independent and stubborn. Too smart for her own good. Powerful. Fierce. Passionate. Much like you…" Narcissa mused. "I can see why you would fall for her."
Draco smiled faintly. They were alike. Even if Mione was more compassionate than him. To put it bluntly, she was better than him. It was only thanks to her changing his beliefs during the first timeline, that he'd been able to become who he was today. He would forever be grateful for that.
After leaving the library a while later, he found himself drawn to Hermione's bedroom door. He hesitated before knocking.
She opened the door halfway and peeked out, smiling at him. "Yes, Draco? Or should I say Lord Malfoy now?"
Draco awkwardly dawdled and fumbled for the right words to say. "I… Thank you. For coming to help me today. If you'd wanted, you could have claimed the title of Lady Malfoy and taken the Manor for yourself, rather than letting my sorry ass have it."
She scowled at him lightly. "Do you think so little of me that you could even imagine me doing such a thing, Draco?"
"No, of course not!" He rushed to clarify. "I'm just saying… You had the right. You would have been the Mistress of Malfoy Manor right now if you'd desired it. Neither I nor Deandra would have opposed you. You could have led our house, and you would've been brilliant at it."
Her smile turned playful, a hint of mischief in her eyes. She leaned further against the doorframe, their faces nearly touching. "Perhaps, one day, if you share how you came to be my husband, I might consider becoming the Mistress of Malfoy Manor after all."
Her laughter rang through the hallways as he stuttered at her lighthearted teasing of them being married again someday. He couldn't help but think she was encouraging him to finally tell her the truth.
"Goodnight, Draco." she whispered, her lips brushing his cheek in a gentle kiss.
A glimmer of hope stirred in his heart. Perhaps he had not lost her completely. Merlin, he'd even shown some Gryffindor courage today, something he never knew he had. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to be truly brave and tell her the truth after all.