Chapter 21

Daddy Issues

Friday Night and Saturday (Trials are Next Friday)

RIP to My Youth and Daddy Issues by the Neighborhood are the songs for this chapter.

The destruction of Hogwarts was starting to give way to repaired new stone. Some walkways and halls were still warded off, but the piles of rubble that had been so evident when Draco had first arrived back at the castle three weeks ago had long since vanished. He walked through empty halls, wondering if he would ever see them full of students again.

Would he ever wear his house uniform again? Ever play Quidditch? Worry about the length of his Runes essay? Steal kisses in alcoves?

Salazar, he fucking hoped so, but it just seemed like that future was slipping like water between his fingers, and it was hopeless to even try to hang onto it.

The world seemed to have plans for Draco Malfoy that involved a darkened cell far over the sea and to spend the remainder of his days alone.

He wondered if he was praying to receive the Kiss or if he wanted to die in slow degrees as he forgot the feeling of sunlight and the flavour of his lovers' kisses.

Would Lucius Malfoy prefer Draco dead in Azkaban or free to choose his own life? Draco thought that if he could have asked his father that the answer would have been neither.

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Flashback

Malfoy Manor

Winter Break, First Year

"You have been letting a filthy little mudblood surpass you in your classes!" Lucius snarled in Draco's face, his fingers digging so deep into Draco's cheeks that it felt as though Lucius might actually crack his jaw. "Theodore I expected, although Thoros is being a complete arse about his heir outstripping mine. That I could bear as he is nearly your equal! However, you are also behind that little mudblood girl. All those tutors, all those years and galleons I've invested in you, and you dare to come in third in your class. Severus is devastated that you couldn't even manage to be first in Potions. What sort of a Malfoy are you, boy?" Lucius let go of Draco's burning cheeks and he gasped, resisting the urge to bend forwards at the reprieve, which was short-lived.

His father's hand flew and hit him so hard across the face that Draco saw stars and stumbled from the force of the blow. Blinking, he tried to stay standing, but he wavered as the dizziness overcame him. Another strike to his face sent Draco toppling over, moaning in pain.

He laid on the floor, his vision blurred, he heard a bang as the door flew open. His mother's heels clicked against the floor as she rushed into the room, "Lucius, stop! Please stop, he is only a boy! Please!"

Looking up from the floor, his parents came back into focus and Draco's stomach dropped at the look of his father's body tensing. His gaze lifted to his face and watched in horror as his father's face contorted with true rage as he turned toward his mother.

No mother, run. Draco wanted to yell, but the words would not come when he tried to open his mouth, the taste of copper was strong, confirming there was damage to his jaw.

"You want to countermand me in front of my heir?" The whisper was more dangerous than when his voice was raised, making Draco fear for his mother's safety. "You will regret that, woman." He pointed his cane at her and announced, "Imperio!" Draco watched as his mother froze, all expression wiped from her beautiful face and he thought he might vomit.

"Stand up, Draco," Lucius snarled at the boy sprawled on the ground as if Draco were an animal and not his son. Biting his lip, Draco obeyed and stood, albeit shakily. His eyes fearfully darted between his mother's blank face and his father's sneer, scared to even wonder to himself what was to come. "Now, Draco, watch carefully," the evil man instructed him, "this is what you do if your wife ever disobeys you. Narcissa dear, please get the riding crop from the cabinet behind my desk. Your mother thought to spare you of your punishment for being a disappointment to the name of Malfoy, but instead she is the one who is going to punish you."

Draco's heart rate began to rise as he looked at his mother's unfocused and dead eyes as she held the riding crop that his father had bid her to get. Draco realised that this punishment was for both of them. He loved his mother and she loved him, but showing affection was an anathema to his father. Now they would pay the price for loving one another.

Lucius stroked his wife's face in a mockery of love. "Now Narcissa, strike him until he can no longer stand. Do try not to kill him though, as we can't replace him." Draco lost count of the blows, but he did not fall. His back hurt and she'd hit his neck and face a few times. He knew that he was probably covered in welts that were only getting worse with each strike. He felt numb though, it would probably hurt much worse later. He was more afraid for his mother than anything. What else might his father force her to do while she was under the Imperius curse?

"For Salazar's Sake, Draco, go down!" Lucius swung his cane and hit him in the mouth with the silver head of the snake, the blow splitting Draco's lip and sending him flying to the floor. "Narcissa, don't stop now, harder dear, hit him harder!" he commanded, "Now a little Cruciatus, my darling."

Draco began to sob silently, tears mixing with the blood, his face pressed against the cool floor, until he finally lost consciousness from the pain of the curse.

The pain had subsided as Draco came back to consciousness with his mother leaning over him and sobbing. She held her wand in her hand, whispering healing charms over and over between each shaky breath. His ribs ached and he wanted to tell her he thought one might be broken, but she began to whisper harshly and he stayed silent as she spoke in tones that he had never heard pass her lips.

"I hate him. I would kill him if I could," she said bitterly, tone full of frustrated rage. "Curse those vows of obedience and fidelity that Abraxas insisted on. I hope he's in Tartarus, the bastard." She sobbed quietly, then said, "I'm so sorry, my dragon. So sorry. It was worse because I interfered. I won't let this happen again, I can't interfere again. I'm sorry, if we could run away, I would take you somewhere he could never find us."

Draco feigned unconsciousness and vowed that he would never treat his wife and his heirs the way his father treated him, no matter what happened.

And Granger…shite…even though she had been the catalyst for this beating, there was something about her, something magnetic. She was so bloody smart, so good at every type of elementary magic. And she'd never been tutored nor did she have access to the magical library he did. She was in a word: impressive. She was everything he had ever been told that mudbloods and muggles were not.

He had even caught Theo looking at her in awe in Charms every time she was able to master a spell first. No one ever beat her to it, and he knew the feeling that Theo felt as they watched her. It was as if they were a moth to the flame, everything about her drawing them in. If Theo's father found out that Granger was a close second to him, the beating that Theo got would likely see him permanently scarred or maimed, again. Thoros was even more of a blood supremacist than Draco's father was and, without a doubt, more brutal. The man was militant to a degree that even Draco couldn't fathom.

Draco didn't think their fathers had ever seen a mudblood like Hermione Granger, and if they did, he feared what they might do to her.

She had descended on his world and changed every fact that he thought was immutable. Even while his bones and blood ached from the lingering pain of the Cruciatus, Draco still felt a burning need to know everything about her.

His mother stroked his back and sobbed silently, her tears falling onto his hands. There must have been tiny cuts there because her tears burned like fire as they struck his skin.

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Quietly taking the spiral stairs as they turned upwards to the night sky, Draco wasn't sure if he was craving solitude or if it had just seemed essential tonight. Should he really be wasting the finite amount of time to spend with the three people who meant the most to him besides his mother? He wanted to be back with the others, surrounded by their support and care. At the same time, he felt as though his spirit was beginning to fissure; perhaps he'd haunt these halls in time, becoming yet another mad Slytherin ghost.

Alone in the Astronomy tower, Draco sat, reminding himself of the greatest failure of his career as a Death Eater. The botched assassination attempt of a rather unpleasant old man with a terminal illness. He didn't know if it spoke well of him or not that he hadn't been able to do it. Knowing the Wizengamot, they'd probably view it as ill will on his part that he'd been unable to put an old man out of his misery.

Later in the war, the Dark Lord had charged him with more awful and terrible missions that he'd successfully executed, so he wasn't sure why his first task had been so difficult for him. He supposed the difference had been actually seeing Voldemort's wand at his mother's throat rather than it being implied. That had been all the motivation he needed to do whatever had been asked — and horrendous things had been commanded of him.

Lost in his worst memories, Draco watched the darkness of the moon with the far off awareness that it might be the last one he ever saw. Azkaban windows were high and small, he remembered from visiting his father in 5th year. It was doubtful that they even let a sliver of moonlight inside the grim interior of the prison; he certainly would never see the constellation that he was named for ever again.

Arms wrapped around his legs, continuing to reminisce on his mistakes of the past, Draco stayed there until the late night neared dawn. Its pale pink light casting over the landscape as the reminder that a new day always followed even the darkest of nights, whether we wanted them to or not. Draco realised he probably needed to get some sleep before the day had truly begun.

Pulling himself from the hard stone floor, he made his way through the castle that was unnervingly quiet. Not even the familiar presence of Mrs. Norris nor any of the ghosts lingered in the halls as he continued on his path towards the heads dorm.

Now that he thought about it, he had hardly seen any ghosts during the summer program. Had the battle scared them or pushed them towards whatever eternal light existed beyond Hogwarts' halls? The portraits had all been stunned too he realised, the quiet eerie without any of their commentary, as he ascended the stairwell and walked down long corridors. No portraits scolding him for being out of bed or speaking to one another of intrigues centuries past or what they'd heard from their other frames throughout the Wizarding World.

Magical portraits were terrible gossips, and Draco had very mixed feelings about them. His great grandfathers had dutifully informed his father many times when he was a boy; even at schoo,l he felt the paranoia of being watched. Still, he wanted to leave something of himself behind, especially for Theo. He knew all the necessary charms to embed his consciousness, as he was now, to awaken in the painting after he inevitably died in Azkaban. He planned to order all the supplies he needed for his project tomorrow, as there was so little time left.

Draco snuck into the Heads' Dorm, careful not to wake anyone. The door seemed like a loud gong in the quiet early morning air. The fire had long since been extinguished, making their small common room feel cold and there was no noise coming from their bedroom. Why would there be? It was nearly full dawn.

He didn't want to bother any of them. He briefly considered sleeping alone in Hermione's bed, but peeked into Theo's room anyway, wanting to get a look at the three before sleep took him. When he cracked the door open, his heart warmed as he discovered that they saved him a spot. Pansy's arms were wrapped around Hermione's waist, her hand splayed on her lower back possessively; Hermione's face was pressed into the raven-haired witch's neck. Theo was on the farther edge of the bed, because, even in their subconscious, they saved a spot between Theo and Hermione for Draco whenever he decided to come to bed.

Cautiously, so as not to wake them, Draco crawled into bed. He worked his way under the blankets that the girls had kicked off, draped past Theo's knees. Sinking into the pillow, he watched Theo's eyelashes flutter in sleep a little. He must be dreaming.

Breathing in their combined scents, Draco fell almost immediately to sleep despite his mind continuing to whirl. One moment, he was staring at Theo's sleeping face considering kissing his lips and, in the next, darkness had claimed him.

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Draco was back in his father's study, he looked down at his hands to find them much smaller, younger. Everything stank of firewhisky, and as he shifted a crunch brought his attention to a shattered bottle beneath his feet. A flicker in the light, and his father suddenly appeared before him, dwarfing Draco's size. Only, it wasn't just because he was a boy again, Lucius continued to grow ever larger and ever more untouchable. His father's face twisted and transformed with rage and madness until he was almost unrecognisable in his fury. Draco's head swivelled as he looked for a place to hide, the need to shrink away and disappear growing with every moment. Though, when he went to take a step towards the oversized desk, Draco found his feet stuck to the floor.

Suddenly, fire bloomed in his face as his father hit him with his snake head cane. Draco's hands flew up to his cheekbone, which he thought must have been shattered. That theory confirmed when he felt the shifting of the bone, the pain radiating through his face. "No one will love you now that I've made you ugly," Lucius laughed maniacally. His laughter sounded more like Bellatrix than Lucius Malfoy ever had in his life.

Draco watched as his father transformed into Alastor Moody, who waved his wand, his horrible magical eye whirling in its socket. The spell hit him in the chest, turning Draco into a ferret again. Draco felt agony as his bones were broken and reformed, it felt as though his blood was burning. The pain was a thousand times worse than a Cruciatus.

As his body shrank and then he couldn't move once again, only this time it was different as the spell controlled his body like a vice. He cried out as the back-breaking snap of his bones hit the cobblestone pavement like fire burning inside of him. The horrifying realisation that he was about to be killed by a professor in front of dozens of his schoolmates as they laughed and joked about the bouncing ferret made him scream.

Draco's screaming and thrashing woke the rest of his bedmates up just after full dawn. Theo quickly pulled him into an embrace and breathed soothing words of safety and love into his hair. Hermione and Pansy's soft hands rubbed his back, offering what little comfort that they could to the trembling and sweating young man.

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Breakfast in the Great Hall was always more or less the same as it had been since summer camp had begun. All traditionally English breakfast foods, which was consistently a source of annoyance for Blaise.

"How many grilled tomatoes and blood sausage can a man be asked to eat for the sake of his schooling? I ask you," Blaise stated dramatically, poking his fork into the mush that had long since lost its appeal. "I just want a good cappuccino and a reasonable selection of pastries. Is that too much to ask for?"

Luna simply smiled at him and sipped her tea, her eyes twinkling as she listened to the same complaint he'd made just the night before about their dinner. Blaise put his arm around her shoulder, looking at her with clear affection. Seamus was fixing his own plate as well as wrapping some food into a cloth napkin for Dean, who was still fast asleep in Gryffindor Tower, rolling his eyes at the Italian wizard's complaints.

For the first time since the beginning of the summer program, owls swooped into the Great Hall delivering letters and packages. Hermione's eyes scanned the letters, looking for any red envelopes, pleased when she didn't see even a single howler amongst the deliveries, and hoped that the new howler policy was going to be a permanent thing. No one should have their private business aired so publicly.

Owl after owl dropped letters to their recipients and, in one case, an eagle dropped a large legal portfolio in front of Theo, nodding its head in his direction before taking off after being fed a piece of bacon. The wizard did not seem in the least surprised by this. He conjured a book bag and slid them, one after another, inside.

A brown barn owl wearing a Ministry tag dropped a small letter in front of Draco, which he opened before the bird had even fluttered away. "Who is it from Draco?" Pansy asked, leaning over to rub circles on his back.

"It's from my mum."

Draco read silently, Pansy peering over his shoulder.

My Dragon,

The book drive that I ran by your desire was a rousing success. The books collected are to be delivered the following day. They would have been there sooner, but the Aurors brought in curse breakers to inspect the donations before I was permitted to send them to Hogwarts. It was simply adding insult to injury since all the books had been inspected when I had first received them as well. I was able to get copies of every book that you said had been destroyed as well as a multitude of books that are rare and would be more beneficial at Hogwarts where students could learn from them rather than languishing in personal libraries going untouched. You know as well as I that, other than Theodore and yourself, so few of the children of the Sacred 28 are voracious readers. I believe that this was an excellent way to begin to make amends. I do hope that you write to me upon delivery and tell me how the Headmistress and Librarian react to the donation. Did you know that Madam Pince became librarian when I was still in school? She was not much older than I was at the time.

The Aurors will be bringing the trunks of books through the Floo directly into the Headmistress' office at 1pm tomorrow afternoon.

Your loving mother,

Narcissa Black Malfoy

While everyone's attention was on Draco, no one paid much attention to the note in Theo's hand as he opened it. Opening it, instead of tucking it into his knapsack with the rest of the mail he'd received, Theo smiled to himself at his own message from Draco's mother.

Theodore,

Because I know you care deeply for my Draco, I will forgive the tone of your last letter, but it will not be overlooked again and shall not be repeated. I hope I have made myself clear in that regard.

I was not aware until your letter that the solicitors that had worked for the Malfoy family for the last hundred years had been fired by my husband following his trial. My access to this sort of information is severely limited at the moment, both by these wretched Aurors (I do hope they read that, it's what they deserve for eavesdropping on my private correspondence) as well as by Lord Malfoy's desire and design.

However, Draco is in control of the Malfoy vaults and is absolutely able to hire his own representation for the trial as he did so for my case months ago. I assume that you will see that it is done? If I was able to handle it myself, I would do so, but my hands are tied and I'm not able to protect him.

In regards to character witnesses, I have sent some letters to persons who may be willing to assist, but we will see if it will be fruitful.

The books from the book drive that Draco asked me to organise will be delivered at 1pm tomorrow. I do hope that you and Pansy will help him to deliver them to the library. I would like a letter telling me how it all went from each of you in an ideal world, though getting Pansy to write has always been a task. While Draco had me engage in this charity drive from some adorable sense of altruism, I do hope you will speak with Madam Pince about a reference. She and I went to Hogwarts together, so please remember me to her.

On my end, I have submitted several memories to the DMLE investigators who have been here digging up my orchard. I assume that you may have had something to do with that as well. I wasn't able to provide any meaningful information about the orchard project, as I was unaware of Draco's actions until the Aurors arrived. On the other hand, I offered some meaningful insights that should excuse Draco's actions due to his age, his fear for my well being, and the torture he himself was subjected to on multiple ocassions. Once you have secured solicitors, send them to the Manor to speak with me. I am utterly at their disposal.

I have already been given permission to attend Draco's trial. I will see you soon. Your assistance in all these matters is deeply appreciated Theodore. And please make sure that any future bride you take is not so financially and legally disempowered as I have been since my husband's incarceration and my house arrest.

Regards,

Narcissa Black Malfoy

Theo did not remember her ever signing her letters in such a way before. She was just so passionate and strong, quite the goddess. If Theo hadn't found happiness with her son, Pansy, and Hermione, Theo certainly would have been tempted to pursue the soon to be widow. While to date only Pansy had ever topped him, he definitely would not have been opposed to Narcissa putting him over her knee. The thought made his pants feel a little tight and he had to discreetly adjust himself; of course, with Pansy seated right next to him, the movement didn't go unnoticed.

"What's that naughty smile about, Theo?" Pansy whispered in his ear, her tongue reaching out to flick at his lobe. Her nails traced designs on his thigh and he wondered whether she'd like to tie him up this afternoon until he came untouched on the floor of his room.

"Nothing darling, just got scolded by Narcissa." Theo replied, leaning into her touch, making the witch purr and her sensual smile widening. Theo nearly took her hand where he wanted it in that moment, but would never presume with his Mistress in such a way.

"Mum scolded you? Why?" Draco asked in surprise, his attention being pulled away from his own letter. Theo and Pansy comically looked over at him, freezing in their somewhat inappropriate but partially obscured touching.

"I mearly inquired about the incompetent jack-a-nape that you got for a solicitor and why you didn't have a private one."

"Theo," Draco said, warning ringing in his voice.

"What? I'm not letting you go to Azkaban without a real fight, Draco. Best get used to it." Theo crossed his arms, Narcissa's letter floating to the table top.

Hermione's gaze darted between Draco and Theo, as the former visibly began to become upset at the latter. The colour rising on his fair cheeks, nostrils flaring, and a finger to his lips as he hissed, "you need to drop it, Theo."

"Stop it, Draco, let someone else care about you for once." Hermione whispered, before glancing around the great hall, realising she had forgotten that they were in a public setting. Theo noticed the stares from students seated at both the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables flickered to where the Golden Girl was touching Draco Malfoy's mouth and he was letting her.

Theo could hear the muffled whispers swell around them, but Hermione and Draco seemed oblivious to the attention that they were garnering as the little brunette witch's hand continued to caress the Slytherin Prince's face. They had eyes only for each other and nothing beyond the two of them seemed to exist for the moment. Hermione pulled her hand away, but her eyes never left Draco's as she continued to soothe him.

"Alright," Draco whispered, "alright."

Blaise caught Theo's eye and tilted his head in such a way that Theo followed the trajectory of his movement to the Slytherin girls' table behind him. Tracey and Millicent were glaring daggers at Hermione. Theo took it on himself to break the tension, loudly getting to his feet and startling Pansy in the process.

"Well I suppose it's time to continue on with our afternoon activities, Like going to Hogsmeade." Theo threw his voice loudly, clapping his hands and suddenly the room exploded in movement and business. Everyone remembering somewhere else they had to be that wasn't staring at the Golden Girl and the youngest Death Eater. On his way to take his boyfriend breakfast, Seamus leaned close to Theo's ear. "If they keep putting on little shows like that, the folks around here are gonna be putting two and two together and realise that they are shagging." Theo only nodded, grim-faced at Seamus' pronouncement.

From across the Great Hall on the dias, McGonagall caught Theo's eye, but only nodded.

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The lack of group therapy sent most of the students scurrying off to enjoy the day in Hogsmeade as Theo had intended with his loud announcement. It led to empty hallways and more privacy than Hogwarts often allowed for.

There was still plenty of volunteer work to do in Greenhouse Seven and Neville had roped Luna and Blaise into helping him transplant seedlings that the first years would be working with in a few short weeks. Theo tagged along, but begged off the volunteering.

"I have a lot of legal correspondence to catch up on and I would rather do it in good company than alone in the Heads' Suite." Neville simply nodded and went about his business of getting everything set up for their project.

Sitting cross-legged up on the top of one of the tables, Theo looked over the letters from the solicitors he'd been in contact with. The first two were rejections and notices that they would be sending all the financial and legal documents from their care to the solicitor of his choice. They were smaller offices, so the rejections from them hadn't come as a surprise to Theo. One only administered a charity in Armenia that provided agricultural seed and food to magical families on the original lands around the family castle there. How positively mediaeval. The other held two investment accounts and were based in the Americas. Their reasoning was much more sound. Based in Magical New York, it wasn't possible to arrange a portkey and be well enough versed in a complicated case in order to be part of a legal team by next Friday.

Theo decided to allow them to continue to administer his two American accounts. They hadn't been willing to do a poor job and had admitted as much and he appreciated they'd at least looked over Draco's case.

He had several parchments and quills floating behind him, writing the responses that he dictated to them. Luna had gone to the owlery and lured six birds back with her so he wouldn't have to stop to send off the responses. She was a true gem, convincing the birds to sit on the comically wide brimmed sunshine yellow hat she'd donned today. Blaise had a seventh, an eagle owl, riding on a falconry gauntlet on his arm. The two of them couldn't have looked more different then, but the energy that flowed between them was mesmerising to watch.

Luckily, the next letters were more fruitful. The first folio came from the solicitor that administered the bulk of his property assets; Theo had been correct that there were a number of documents that needed his signature. Property line disputes, needed repair bills, and caretaker wage authorizations were amongst the documents. Fawley, Fawley, and Perkins was one of the larger magical solicitor offices. They had a Barrister in mind to take Draco's case, Mathilda Wright. She was a junior partner, a Muggleborn, but undefeated in the Wizengamot chambers. Theo felt a slight annoyance that they were nearly apologising that their best barrister was a Muggleborn. Regardless, Theo had one of the pens send an acceptance and write out a Gringotts draw for the retainer. He included a secondary note directly to the barrister informing her that he would like to meet with her Monday morning to discuss the case at the latest, preferably sooner.

The next letter was a declination from a German office, Nacht und Tag, that Theo was pretty certain had Death Eater affiliations. So he had one of the quills pen a request that all the Nott accounts in their holding be sent over to Fawley, Fawley, and Perkins, based in Magical London.

The next two letters were acceptances. Barristers Thaddeus Penworthy and Hepsibeth Osborne were both accepted as members of Draco's legal team and were informed that they would be supporting Mathilda Wright of Fawley, Fawley, and Perkins. And he certainly hoped they didn't have a problem with that. Theo knew that this other firm had never employed a Muggleborn in their entire history. Theo actually couldn't have given a fuck if they did have a problem with it. What Theo wanted was the best possible representation for his boyfriend. And he had four fucking days to make this all work.

Theo loved Draco, he really did, but sometimes he wanted to strangle him.

Three more letters and two more declinations. Another American one that he instructed to turn the properties that they managed for him over to the other American firm that he was maintaining a relationship with. The final barrister, Aletheia Achidan, who was bringing along with her legal clerk Gwydion Remington, was sent notification of Theo's acceptance of her representation, a bank draw, and instruction that Ms. Wright would be the lead barrister. He hoped he'd made the right choice with that. Ms. Achidan's C.V. was pretty impressive as well.

Theo just needed these highly qualified people to do weeks worth of work in just a few days, successfully. It was a bit of an impossible order, but Theo was willing to throw whatever money was needed at Draco's problems and make sure that he stayed out of the hell that was Azkaban.

Giving the letters and treats to each of the owls, Theo sent them off one at a time through the open Greenhouse door and sighed dramatically as the final one winged away. The legal folio with all the documents that needed his signature was still tucked away in his knapsack for later. He had felt bad sending the eagle owl off with only the two letters for Fawley, Fawley, and Perkins, but Theo reasoned that the eagle owl was the fastest and would get the messages where they were needed as swiftly as possible.

"Why the melodramatic sigh, Theodore? Are you auditioning for a play again?" Luna quipped.

"Hardly. I think I have managed to put together a legal team that will actually give a shite about keeping Draco out of Azkaban, but now he needs character witnesses." Theo rubbed his hand over his face.

"I have already reached out to the Wizengamot about testifying," Luna shared. "I think they are just expecting me to give something called a victim impact statement as I am testifying as a prosecution witness, but I think that they will be surprised at what I have to say."

"What exactly does Malfoy need?" Neville asked.

"Character witnesses with no affiliation to Death Eaters, so I'm right out despite being Head Boy and not having ever even been in the presence of the noseless wonder."

"Voldemort was Head Boy too," Luna pointed out prosaically.

"Lu, my love," Blaise said kindly, "That's not helpful."

"Oh," Luna looked up from where she was repotting the seedlings, "I'm sorry Theodore. I will try to think of something else more helpful."

"Luna, since you are already testifying, are you going to tell them about all the girls?"

"Yes," Luna exhaled the word like a prayer. "I'm going to let them extract a memory as well so that there is no question of tampering. No one who saw Draco Malfoy's face when we tried to save those girls could ever believe that evilness was in his heart."

"I'll do it. Give my name to his solicitor or the barrister whoever. I can use my hero status," Neville laughed, agreeably. "I have an idea as well. If I can make it happen, I'll let you know, Theo. It's gonna take a little orchestrating and I'll ask Hannah to help me. If we can make it happen, it couldn't hurt."

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He had been putting away repaired books and Draco was horribly distracted by the visceral experience of being in this place where he had spent so many hours of his misspent youth.

Draco breathed in the smell of the old books in the library. He ran his hand over the bindings in the potions section as well as on the shelf that housed all the biographies of famous magical artists. If he could have been anything, Draco would have wanted to have been a well-regarded portraitist and beloved husband and father. Those dreams had once been beneath the dignity of the heir of the Ancient and Noble house of Malfoy and now also of the Ancient and Noble House of Black. They seemed as impossible as visiting the moon.

"Draco!" Hermione called, "Where did you go off to?"

He peeked around the corner and was about to respond to her, but her profile was to him. Wanting to soak up the sight, he held his tongue as he looked at her with uninterrupted regard. He was desperate to memorise every curl, every curve and colour on her perfect skin. The way she lovingly held the stack of antique tomes in her hands, freshly repaired and ready for shelving, was enough to transfix him.

"Mr Malfoy," Madam Pince's soft voice next to him made him jump and let out a little squeak, "I'm sorry dear, I didn't mean to startle you." She put a reassuring hand on his arm, seemingly ignorant of the fact that her fingers were touching his Dark Mark.

"It's alright Madam Pince. I guess that my nerves are just a little on edge."

"You know you have put in nearly fifty volunteer hours here in the library. If you would rather be elsewhere today, I would more than understand. While the books might miss you and Miss Granger, I think a walk around the lake might be just the thing you need." The stately witch said, the warmth in her voice comforting, though it didn't work as his nerves were much too shot.

Draco nodded in acquiescence, but stated, "I want you to know that I will certainly be here volunteering tomorrow. Will you be around all day?"

"Of course, Mr. Malfoy. I will see you both here after luncheon."

"Come on, Granger," Draco calmly took the books out of her hands and set them down on the table. "Walk with me."

Lacing their fingers together, Draco led the little witch out of the library. As Hermione looked back, she was surprised to see Madam Pince smiling and giving a small wave.

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"Miss Parkinson, I will certainly write a letter detailing your diligence of your volunteer work here in the hospital ward this year and your work with injured students last year, but what more should your character reference say? Certainly you wish for me to include more?" Madam Pomfrey looked at Pansy, her eyebrow raised.

"Honestly, Madam Pomfrey, I am not sure what I need. I was just informed in a circuitous manner that character references could help prevent me from going to Azkaban, which I've told you I would rather not do."

"Indeed," Madam Pomfrey huffed, "the fact that they are even considering sending a girl your age to that place. You are no Bellatrix Black, that's for certain. Well what do you want to do with yourself, Miss Parkinson?" The question startled Pansy, as she wasn't sure what that had to do with her upcoming trial.

"You mean with my life? I don't know. It is one of the things that Healer Cordelia has been working on with me. It's hard to make future plans and dreams when your future is so uncertain."

"Well, think back to your fifth year and your career planning meeting with Professor Snape. If you could be anything, what would you be? Without these millstones about your neck, just be the starry eyed and innocent girl again, just for a moment."

"I was raised to be a socialite, a wife, and a mother, but I want more than that." Pansy confided, her voice small as she was ashamed of her upbringing. "But if I had a say, I'd like to go to Healer training or go to work for an apothecary making healing concoctions. Something that will help people."

"Miss Parkinson, that's a very noble endeavour. I wish you success in it. When it comes time for the recommendation letter for St. Mungos, you know where to find me."

Madam Pomfrey placed a huge vat of dittany paste in front of Pansy along with some small jars and labels. Picking up her quill to create the labels first, Pansy got right to work. If only for a moment, thinking of a future that she could wish for.

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The trail around the Black Lake was fairly deserted at this time on a Saturday afternoon. The usual couples that could be found snogging there were now down in Hogsmeade, most likely up to similar shenanigans.

Draco was still pulling Hermione along by the hand, clinging to her as if she might disappear if he loosened his grip. He was surprised she was still allowing him to do so, but not as surprised as she herself was. If Ron had dared to do such a thing, she would have wrenched her hand away in the hallway outside the library and scolded him for acting like a barbarian.

She had never longed for Ron's touches the way she longed for Draco's. She'd never been much for public displays of affection, but lately all she could think about was wanting to put her hand possessively around Pansy especially when one of the lads started to flirt with the other witch. Today, she'd touched Draco's lips in front of the entire Great Hall as though they were open with whatever it was they were doing, not sparing their audience a thought in the moment.

It was getting harder and harder to convince herself that this was just a friends with benefits scenario. Especially when Draco pulled her behind a tree and looked at her like that.

"And what's this about?" She asked, knowing what it was about from the lust that darkened his eyes.

"I've fantasised about shagging you out here for years," he growled, his face slowly moving towards her. "And I'm going to do it today. I'm going to leave you with enough memories of me to keep you smiling long after I am gone."

"Draco, don't…" Hermione started to say. She didn't want him to go to Azkaban. She was going to stop it from happening in any way she could, using whatever influence she possessed. But instead of allowing her to comfort him with any of those promises, Draco silenced her with a kiss.

His hands ran down her sides, his fingers brushing the bare skin of her thighs. His touch made her grateful that she had chosen to wear one of her uniform skirts. Perhaps she'd been hoping for an assignation with one of her lovers all along.

Draco's hands circled to the insides of her thighs; reaching upwards, brushing tantalising touches along the lacy edges of her knickers making her moan into his mouth and he seized the opportunity to invade it with his tongue. As his fingers finally found their way into her wetness, she arched into him and he lifted her up one handed as he explored her body with his other. Her feet no longer touched the ground, yet she felt supported both by Draco's grip and the tree that was holding her up. His lips were now on her throat and clavicle, sucking bruises into her olive skin.

His fingers slid inside of her, the touch causing her to moan loudly. "Hush, Princess, what if someone comes walking along the trail? You don't want them to discover us, do you?" He purred against her lips, causing her body to shutter against his.

She shook her head, nearly lost to speech. Slowly, he fucked her with two fingers before adding a third until she was gasping his name against his neck as she came all over his hand. He tore her drenched knickers from her body, still holding her up one handed. Unbuckling his trousers, he let them fall, sliding his trunks down so that his hard cock was revealed and swiftly sheathed himself inside of her.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and they coupled frantically in the woods like animals, scratching, clawing and biting one another. There were no sweet nothings whispered, only groans, grunts, and moans as they found their release together.

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Hermione's back was marked up from the tree, her hair wild, and Draco's hair was horribly mussed when they tried to just sneak back into the castle and head up to the Head Dorm to shower. "Hey!" Theo called, "There you two are!"

"Shite," Draco breathed, knowing their plan to slink up to the room was just foiled.

"Come on, it's time for dinner."

"Theo," Hermione started, but he cut her off by waving his wand and tidying both of their appearances.

"I swear the two of you forget you can do magic sometimes." Theo smiled, a hungry look in his eyes as he looked them over. "It's the last Saturday of the summer and we are going to have a little party tonight. Therefore, we all need full stomachs so that no one passes out before we get to the after party." Theo winked at the two of them mischievously.

Draco sighed dramatically, but followed after Theo regardless. "Coming Granger?" Draco looked back at her. Hermione scowled at him.

"Might I remind you, Draco Malfoy, that you stole my knickers and I'm wearing a skirt?"

He only chuckled at that, patting his pocket where the ruined lace was stored and whispered into her ear before he opened the doors to the Great Hall. "I didn't steal them, I ripped them off of you. And I hope I get a chance to do that again soon."

Flushed and sure everyone was staring at her, Hermione ducked her head and followed Draco into dinner. She was hyper aware that her skirt barely covered her arse and she tried to keep her thighs as close together as possible as she sat at the table that had become theirs. Pansy sat on her right and Draco took the seat to her left. Blaise and Luna were on the far side of the round table and Hermione just hoped that they didn't drop something under the table at some point in the night and look right into her exposed sex.

"There won't be any sinking into depression on my watch, friends," Theo announced smiling, "Eating is essential."

"Although," Pansy spoke out, "I would prefer if we could have wine with dinner, we are adults after all."

"Can you even imagine," Seamus said, slipping into the seat next to Luna, "McGonagall allowing us to have wine or butterbeer with dinner?"

"What do you think the professors have in their chalices?" Pansy asked, "It's certainly not pumpkin juice."

"I wouldn't bet against you, Parkinson." Dean replied, claiming the seat beside Seamus.

"I've found that it is always a foolish move to bet against Pansy," Blaise smiled, taking a sip from his goblet. "She never takes a bet unless she is sure she will win, I've lost more galleons to her than I care to admit."

"Some of us don't have unlimited wealth at our disposal, Blaise," Pansy stuck her tongue out at the Italian.

"Say the word Pans and I will set you up with a personal Gringotts account," Theo smiled, "The Nott vaults are overflowing. I couldn't spend it all in my lifetime if I tried." Hermione realised that Pansy's hand was gripping Theo's thigh under the table, her nails sinking into his muscular thigh through the jeans he wore.

"Be careful Theo, people may start to think that you are going to buy me jewellery next." Pansy purred, batting her eyelashes in his direction.

"If I thought that you would accept it, I'd buy you jewellery tomorrow." Theo replied, pouring himself some juice. Pansy's smile was something like the cat that had the cream.

"I guess it would all depend on the quality of the jewellery," Pansy replied.

"Only the best for the Queen of Slytherin," Theo smiled.

"What's the big deal with jewellery?" Hermione whispered to Draco, not understanding the exchange between the two Purebloods.

"In the Sacred 28, giving someone jewellery, their acceptance of said gift, and wearing it publicly denotes an agreement." He replied, whispering in her ear.

"What kind of agreement?"

"A betrothal."

"A …" Hermione choked on the second word, "But what about us?" she hissed back.

"Feeling jealous, love?" Draco raised an eyebrow at her, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

"What? O-of course not." Hermione stammered, turning back to her plate to eat her food, single mindedly trying to ignore the uncomfortable feelings burning inside of her. What would happen if Pansy and Theo got engaged? Would the arrangement between the four of them end? The thought was enough to make Hermione want to cry.

"Granger," Draco murmured, his hand sliding possessively up her thigh and towards the hem of her skirt, "even if Theo and Pansy married, they would never give you up. You needn't worry." As she stared into his molten eyes, Hermione still worried, her mind spiralling into all the ways that everything could go wrong.

If Draco and Pansy went to Azkaban, would Theo just consider Hermione a consolation prize? Would they be able to bear it or would everything fall apart? If only Draco went to prison, would Hermione become a third wheel to the relationship that Theo and Pansy had forged long before she'd stumbled into their lives? Without the press of the trials, if both Draco and Pansy walked free, would all three of them grow tired of her, just as Harry and Ron had?

"Mi!" Pansy pinched her other thigh, her long fingers brushing against Draco's hand that was rubbing circles into her skin, "Stop overthinking. I can hear your mind whirring." Hermione nodded and tried to pull herself back to the table's conversation, but the doubts were already planted, playing on rotation in the back of her mind. Blaise was making some joke about bland English cooking and colonialism that Dean found hilarious. Luna leaned in and gave Blaise a kiss on the cheek.

Off to the side, Hermione noticed Tracey Davis giving Luna the worst glare. Luna followed Hermione's eyes and gave the Slytherin girl a comically over exaggerated wink that had Tracey spluttering. Catching the interaction, Theo cackled, throwing his head back. Under the table, Pansy and Draco's hands were both stroking Hermione beneath her skirt as she desperately tried not to cum in the middle of the Great Hall.

She did anyway, biting her lip and gripping her spoon as though it was a lifeline.

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"Let's get drunk like it's 1998!" Theo shouted.

The four of them had outdrank Blaise and Luna fairly quickly, although Theo suspected it was because the blonde Ravenclaw was trying to lure Blaise into her bed. His suspicions proved well-founded, he noted with a quiet laugh; as not long later, they disappeared. Neville had brought Hannah with him when he had come at the beginning of the party, but the blonde Hufflepuff was so awkward and uncomfortable that they had only made it through one drink before disappearing. Neville mouthed "I'm sorry" to Hermione on his way out the door.

Finnigan made a feeble attempt to go shot for shot with Pansy, only to end up with his arm over his boyfriend's shoulder being dragged from the room.

Completely drunk, Pansy and Hermione danced carefree on the top of a transfigured table while Draco and Theo snogged below them.

"For Salazar's Sake, this is some view," Theo looked up from kissing Draco, one hand around the blond's neck, the other entangled in his platinum hair. "Hermione, I need you to come down here and ride my cock. Draco's not quite ready for me to fuck him up the arse the way that I would like."

"Who said that?" asked Draco, sounding much more sober than he had moments before.

Theo's pupils swallowed the blue of his eyes as they dilated with arousal.

Yes, this was going to be a night to remember, Theo thought as he pulled Draco back into him. And if Theo had anything to say about it, there would be many more such nights to come.

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