With Hermione asleep in his arms, Harry stood with a bit of help from Theo. When he was steady on his feet, Harry nodded towards his back.
"There's parchment in my trouser pocket, nab it for me."
"If you want me to touch your arse, Potter, you could have just asked."
Despite the circumstances, Harry snorted.
"Take a feel and I'll tell Gin."
"Wouldn't want to upset the Mrs," Theo teased, slipping the parchment out of the indicated pocket. "Potter, this parchment is blank."
Rolling his eyes, Harry whipped his head to the side to try and get the hair from his eyes. "Point your wand at it and say 'Mischief Managed'."
"That's just silly," Theo scoffed.
"Do it," Harry insisted.
Huffing, Theo gave him a curious look but did as he was told. "Bloody hell, what in the seven hells is this? Merlin, this is how you got away with everything!"
Harry just smirked, "Open it up." Harry directed him through the folds of parchment to find the defense classroom. "Find a clear path of students. Better to take her to her room without anyone noticing."
"This thing is bloody brilliant," Theo commented when they were nearly there. "Where did you get it?"
"Family heirloom."
"Do you know who these 'Mauraders' are? They must have been either mad or masters at magic. Merlin's beard."
Harry just smirked. He listened to Theo marvel over the map the entire journey as they skillfully avoided anyone in the castle. In the Head's dorms, Theo helped Harry get Hermione into her room, even going so far as to pull down the duvet so Harry could tuck her in. They both stood over her bed for a moment before nodding at one another towards the door.
"She'll be alright?"
Harry nodded, "She just needs to sleep." Conjuring a piece of parchment, Harry scribbled out a note before going to put it on her dresser beside her beaded bag. "If she listens, we'll see her when she wakes. I told her to seek out you or I."
"Will she, though?"
"Probably not," Harry chuckled humorlessly, "That's why I charmed the parchment, so when she opens it, I'll know."
"Sneaky," Theo looked approvingly, "Positively Slytherin."
"Oh fuck off," Harry laughed, punching Theo in the arm as they left the room.
"Lucius, to what do we owe the pleasure of your call?"
Lucius stood from his desk and walked around it to meet Gareth.
"Thank you for coming, Gareth; I know it was most spontaneous." After shaking hands, Lucius motioned for Gareth to take a seat while collecting some whiskey for them. When he had the two tumblers prepared, he passed one to Gareth before moving around the deal and taking his seat once more.
"This is very cloak and dagger, Lucius, what's going on?"
Taking a healthy sip of his whiskey, Lucius faced his friend. "I'm afraid the contract between our children is to be null and void."
Sitting up straighter, Gareth set his untouched whiskey on the desk. "Why is that?"
"We've discovered, you see, that my son has a bond."
Gareth's entire demeanor changed. His aggravated expression morphed into a more intrigued one, his eyebrow-raising as he picked up his tumbler again. "That is cause for celebration, dear friend! That Draco was honored in such a way by the fates is wonderous!"
Lucius smiled, "It is."
"Who is the lucky witch?"
"I'm afraid we're going to keep that secret a bit longer," Lucius chuckled, "Cissa and I need to speak with him first. We thought it best I address this with you first, though, get the mess with the contract all sorted."
Gareth waved a dismissive hand, "Think not of it, Lucius. This is a true blessing. Even traditional contracts get turned over by a bond."
"Thank you, my friend, for being so understanding. Cissa was apprehensive."
"That is the way of women sometimes. My Aquila is the same. She caused me quite a fright over this contract if we're being honest."
Lucius huffed, "As did Cissa. She's been right mad at me since Christmas. I told her over and over that it was their choice, but she's got it in her mind. It's like when we were younger."
"Aquila is the same. Caused quite the racket when the girls went to bed that evening, I swear she had my left ear bleeding by the time I got her into bed too. Heavens."
Meanwhile, Narcissa was in the green room waiting for Darcey to give her an update on Hermione. Like with Theo, she paired up with the loyal elf and got weekly reports about both her kids. Sunday eve was their usual time. She'd seen Darcey earlier when she'd excitedly informed her that Hermione agreed to tea the following Saturday.
Instead of Darcey, Severus stormed into the green room, Draco in tow, looking miserable.
"Tell him, or I will," Severus seethed.
With a shove, Severus nudged his godson towards his mother and left as dramatically as he came.
Huffing, Draco straightened his robes before taking them off and dripping them on the chair opposite his mother's. "Tell me what, mother."
Narcissa was proud. Draco looked the picture of calm. To anyone else, he would seem positively collected but she could see it in his eyes. The question in his eyes. Understandably so. She imagined Severus had just dragged him through the castle for some unknown reason, or at least unknown to him. For whatever reason, Severus deemed it was time for them to intervene.
Calling for her own elf, Narcissa ordered tea for them and served Draco when it was promptly delivered a moment later. Gently sliding the tea to him, she smiled at her son.
"You are no longer betrothed to Astoria."
He had the nerve to roll his eyes at her. Sighing, she let it go in favor of continuing on.
"Your father is currently speaking to Gareth and ironing out those details. He wanted to be here when we had this conversation but it seems Severus felt it was needed sooner."
"Mother," Draco pinched the bridge of his nose, "Can we please get on with it, I'm not in the mood for the smoke and mirrors. Not today. What is it?"
"You are bonded to Hermione."
Draco's world froze.
He.
Was.
What.
"Excuse me?"
"You are bonded to Hermione," she repeated calmly.
He scoffed, "That's not funny."
She took a sip of tea, "I'm not kidding, Draco. I'm very serious. Would you like to see the family tapestry? Is that the proof you need?"
Draco glared at her for a few moments as if trying to figure out what to say in response. He looked like he wanted to protest but was holding his tongue. He very clearly wanted to fight with her on this.
"Yes, please," he ground out.
"Very well." With a quiet word, she summoned her elf to bring the tapestry. It took a few more moments but when it appeared, it unrolled on the ground beside them. Narcissa didn't even look at it. She just smirked at her son. "Go on."
Draco wanted to. He did. But he couldn't make himself do it. Glaring over his mother's shoulder, he tried to think.
A chill crept up his spine.
Easter. They'd bonded over Easter last year when his Aunt had her pinned to the ground. He could remember it now. It hadn't seemed significant at the time. It felt a lot like it did now, a chill. Hermione had been screaming for ages and he'd had to occlude to keep from intervening. Then she'd looked at him, a sigh leaving her as his Aunt took a merciful break, and Hermione had looked at him. Her eyes had dulled and she looked, gods he'd wanted to forget that look and hoped he'd never see it again because she looked ready to give up. Yet when her eyes met his, he felt his spine stiffen, and, in that moment, he'd thought he was ashamed of having to witness her torment and that she was staring him down, mocking his cowardice.
But then he'd seen the fire in her eyes reignite and she'd looked almost thankful before his Aunt had returned to her.
He'd done that.
His magic had kept her from giving up that day.
Kept her alive.
And he'd felt it.
He'd felt it the first day he'd held her on the train. The level of comfort just being near her. He'd felt it in every casual touch. Every blinding smile she spared him. Every time she twirled the curl that fell over her left shoulder when she was studying. When her hair would tickle his nose as they lay in bed or in the contentment that settled over him every morning, he woke up with her wrapped around him.
Every time he saw her fake a smile when she glanced at him and Astoria. When he'd walked out of her room with her quiet sobs behind him. When he'd felt the fear of losing her.
And he'd ruined it. Ruined them so completely.
Grinding his teeth, he finally looked down at the family tapestry on the floor. As he did, Draco stood and crouched on the floor near his embroidered picture. Sure enough, snug right beside him was Hermione, her wayward curls and freckle-specked cheeks embroidered beside him.
"April thirteenth, nineteen ninety-eight," he read as his fingers traced the silver embroidery of her name.
Hermione had been his witch since before she came to his aid that night in their dorms. Since long before he took her to his bed.
Grimacing, he remembered the whole reason for bringing her into his room the night their 'game' began. The yule ball where he'd found her tear-stained and puffy eyes in the common room after escaping Astoria for the evening. He hadn't been able to stop seeing the morose look she'd had when she went into the bathroom. The memory only served to bring another to the forefront of his mind.
When they'd first been told of the ball, her adorably shocked face when he'd proposed the idea of attending together, and her gentle decline after he'd bollocksed it up.
Flash forward to how angry he'd been finding out she had a bond. His jealousy. Her soft pleas telling them all she wasn't going to say anything because her bonded deserved a choice.
Christmas when he'd given her the choice and told her she was his.
The look on her face when his mother snarled about the contract to his father.
How broken she'd looked in her rooms shortly after, her tear-stained face as she raved at him after his own accusations and jealousy. Her pleas to be merciful because he'd taken it back and chosen Astoria instead.
Days after her fall when, she'd recognized his scent and clung to him despite the pain she was in. Her confessions of love. Her cries as he walked away.
Her occluding.
A pot holding one of his mother's praised plants to his left shattered as he suddenly yelled. He barely heard his mother's gasp as he allowed his own rage at himself to take over. But still, she remained in her seat, a hand over her tea to keep the debris out of it, and watched as Draco began making a mess of the beloved greenroom, tossing anything he could get his hands on at the singular stone wall while other things he couldn't quite reach imploded with unrestrained magic.
With a final yell and the sound of glass shattering, Draco fell to the ground in a useless slump.
"I'm sorry, Darcey, I'll clean it."
His hushed whisper nearly went unnoticed but Darcey popped in beside him and laid a small hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Master Draco. It's okay to be sad." With a couple of snaps of her fingers, the room righted itself, the three glass windowed walls repairing themselves.
Standing on shaky legs, Draco slumped back into the seat across from his mother.
Looking at her, he didn't bother to hide his misery.
"I've messed up."
Setting down her cup, she gave him a sympathetic smile, "How?"
He shook his head, "So much. Too much, really."
"I see." Giving a pause for consideration, she nodded towards the door, "Why did Severus bring you home for this? Your father and I were going to bring you home Friday afternoon to have this conversation."
Draco closed his eyes and braced himself. "It likely has something to do with Hermione occluding."
"Excuse me?"
Hermione woke up with pixies between her ears. At least, that's what it felt like. Groaning, she rolled over, cradling her head. Merlin, she felt absolutely miserable.
"Darcey," she called weakly. It hurt to even attempt to stand. Darcey's pop into the room made her groan. "Some water, please, Darcey. And maybe a pain potion from Professor Snape if he's still feeling charitable."
"Yes, Mistress, of course!"
The pop was softer this time, but still, it made Hermione cringe into her pillow. She tried to count while she waited but gave up, stowing her head under her pillow to try and mute the noise of the on-goings around her.
It wasn't Darcey who popped into her room. It was Professor Snape who stormed into her room, Darcey in tow with her head down and hands ringing together.
"Miss Granger," his sharp drawl pierced between her ears. "I believe I told you to come to my office for your potion, not to send your elf after it."
"I'm sorry, sir," she groaned as loud as she could bear, "I just-"
"Get out from that infernal pillow, Granger; I can barely hear you."
Bracing herself, she tried to do so without whimpering. Looking at him, she winced, seeing the look on his face. "I'm sorry, sir, I'm just having trouble getting up. It hurts."
"I'd expect so after occluding unnecessarily for months."
Still, he handed her a potion, and she quickly took it, her head dropping into her hands as she waited. "Unnecessary for whom?"
"Do not start with me, Granger. A few temporary bouts of occluding are fine, but three months is not!"
"Yes sir," she ground out, the ache in her head slowly receding with his yell. "I never intended to do it for so long," she confessed quietly, "I just wanted it to stop."
Huffing, Professor Snape conjured a chair and sat down in front of her, as poised as always. "Miss Granger, pain is a life lesson. A necessary catalyst for growth and change. You have to endure it to continue to grow. You cannot skip it because it is inconvenient. Otherwise, we would all do it."
Staring at his shoes, his elbows still on her knees; she stifled a small sob.
"Sir, may I ask why?"
His brow rose but she didn't see it, "I'm assuming you're asking why I occluded my sixth year?"
"Yes sir," she mumbled, a bit ashamed to have even asked.
Taking a deep breath, Professor Snape sighed. Hermione finally looked up and saw the solemn look on his face. "That year, I had a falling out with my childhood best friend-"
"Harry's mum."
"Are you going to listen or interrupt?"
"Sorry, sir."
Shifting uncomfortably, he continued, "It was the final straw for that friendship. Nearly like you and Mister Weasley earlier this year, but you are far more forgiving than he deserved. Anyway, that holiday, my father finally managed to hit my mother one too many times and kill her."
"I'm very sorry, sir. I shouldn't have asked."
"I wouldn't have answered if I hadn't wanted to," he waved away her concern, "I turned off my emotions at my mother's funeral. Albus found me after I took my mark and brought me back to the castle when he used Legilimency to turn those emotions back on. Madam Pomfrey had to sedate me when the initial wave of emotions wouldn't subside. They kept me asleep for two and a half days before bringing me to and I still had to feel the waves of it all."
Quickly brushing the tears from her cheeks, Hermione tried not to succumb to the sobs she felt brewing. "Makes it seem so silly, doesn't it."
"What?"
"The idea of love breaking a person. Death is understandable. Death is-"
"Don't minimize your pain, Granger. You've walked around this castle for months adjusting to a new house, new friendships, being attacked for it, and most painful of all, Draco," he didn't miss her wince, "I don't even know the half of it, what you've endured over your bond, but I know it hurt enough to break you. A young woman who fought in a war and was tortured, who has been taking care of those daft boys since she was eleven. You're from tough stock, Miss Granger, and it took loving your childhood bully to break you. I understand that pain. It's not dissimilar from losing a parent or losing your longest friend to your bully."
Her eyes shown with tears.
"You're allowed to be sad. You are allowed to be weak. To let others help you."
She nodded, the urge to cry overwhelming her.
"Give yourself grace in this, Miss Granger."
Rising, he waved the chair away and then put what was meant to be a comforting hand on her shoulder before leaving her.