! This chapter is written from Hermione's perspective !
- The Astronomy Tower, 25th of November 1994 -
It was a crisp November evening. The first snowfall of the season had finally settled and transformed the Hogwarts grounds into a shimmering white canvas. Hermione, standing atop the Astronomy Tower, let her gaze wander towards the impressive Durmstrang ship. It lay motionless, its dark silhouette a stark contrast against the glistening moonlit surface of the Black Lake. If she listened intently, she could almost make out the laughter of some students floating up from the ship's main deck. Apparently they too enjoyed the cold autumn night. It probably reminded them of home.
"Are prophecies supposed to be interpreted literally?" Hermione queried, her brow furrowed. She turned to the ancient spirit beside her. "When Harry mentioned the dragon child, I couldn't help but wonder. Prophecies are notoriously vague and open to interpretation. Are they meant to be taken at face value?"
"I too have harboured doubt." Deandra sighed deeply beside her, her voice carrying the weight of the millenia she'd lived. Her silver aura, usually so vibrant, now seemed to merge subtly with the moonlight that lit up the Astronomy Tower. The spirit was as weary as Hermione herself felt, almost like a mirror to her own concerns.
"Surely, he can't be an actual whelpling, can he? You, of all people, would have detected it if he wasn't entirely human." Hermione murmured, her voice tinged with uncertainty.
"He is as human as you are, of that there is no doubt." the spirit concurred. "Yet, whom else could the Hungarian Horntail have been referring to? Draco is my dragon child from prophecy. His constant presence around Harry, both during the nights in their dorms and during his waking moments, is unmistakable. What eludes me is how they would think Draco to be one of them."
In her frustration, Hermione raked her hands through her already unruly hair and rested her elbows on the edge of the stone cold balcony. "This doesn't make any sense. Could there be some sort of curse? On the Malfoy family I mean?"
"There used to be a maledictus in the family, some six hundred years ago." The spirit reminisced, thinking back to the old days. "But she manifested signs of her animal transformation soon after her first bout of accidental magic. Draco has never been anything but human. Besides, the cursed child never had any children of her own. No one wanted the burden of that particular curse to stay in the family."
"I wish I could actually communicate properly with the dragons." Hermione whispered, more to herself than to the spirit. "Instead I only have a slight magical affinity for animals thanks to my dragon heartstring wand." She paused, lost in thought. "I remember now that when Norberta bit Draco in our first year, that it was a sign of affection, even if I should have seen it as a mere animal reaction."
Her eyes widened, a sense of curiosity and apprehension hidden within them as the gears in her mind started to turn. "Could Norberta have sensed something about him even then? Did she think that he was-?"
"That's an interesting thought, worthy of consideration." Deandra mused. "Perhaps, we should talk about this with Luna? Even though I'm unsure the conversation will be enlightening. She prefers when we unravel the mysteries ourselves. All she does is to give us a push in the right direction. She's too Ravenclaw to merely give us the answer to the riddles that are right in front of us."
Gleaming sparks of red magic accompanied by boyish laughter drifted up to the Astronomy Tower. Seems the Durmstrang students were concocting some sort of experiment on their ship. Hermione's lips curved into a smile at their antics, so did Deandra's.
"Have you ever told Draco the exact prophecy that led to your decision to align yourself with the Malfoys?" The brunette asked. A gust of wind swept across the tower, and she instinctively tightened her robes around her, seeking warmth.
Deandra saw her shiver, and gracefully waved her hand in an arc around them. The warming charm immediately made the witch feel comfortable as the warmth seemed to settle in her bones. It also made her sleepy, however. Hermione suppressed a yawn, and patiently waited for the spirit's answer.
"I haven't spoken of it to him. It obviously pertains to Voldemort, and you and Harry as well. All three of you have taken the necessary steps to stand against the Dark Lord. You've grown so much, Mione. Your courage and refusal to give up… I can't tell you how much it fills me with pride."
"Thank you, Deandra. I really appreciate that." She smiled shyly. "Though, it's not always easy. The boys, especially Draco, have a tendency to want to protect me." A hint of annoyance flickered across her face as she thought about it. She remembered how Draco had been so against her joining him in the chaos at the World Cup. True, it had been dangerous. She had been hurt even, just because she'd poured nearly all of her magic into him so he could protect Daph and Tori from Greyback. But to her, the sacrifice of spending the next day in bed recovering, had been worth it. It had been freeing to be more than just a spectator on the sidelines. To be doing something . To make a difference.
"Draco's protectiveness of you stems from his fear of losing you, as you saw when he faced his Boggart last year." The spirit explained empathically. "Remember, I have the ability to see in that boy's mind. He's blinded by-" Deandra shook her head, seemingly interrupting her own thoughts. "I'm sorry, little one. Those are not my stories and secrets to tell. Just know, that he only intends to do what is right by you. Even if that inadvertently ends up hurting you sometimes."
"His communication skills leave much to be desired, yes." Hermione remarked with a snort, her tone a mixture of amusement and mild frustration. "There are times when I wish he would just pause and have a proper conversation with me."
The spirit laughed. "You and I are of the same mind on this, Mione. However, you have to understand. Draco was not born this way. He wasn't as considerate of the people he loved as he is now. He always assumed only his parents loved him, and his definition of love can be skewed. You know Lucius… He sees him as his heir. Not as his son. The love that you and Harry have given him is so unconditional, that he will do anything to protect you two."
"But Narcissa, she-" Hermione wanted to express before Deandra interrupted her.
"Cissy is bound to Lucius as his wife. The vows of matrimony she made are not to be taken lightly. No matter the abuse and disdain her child suffers from him, she can never truly oppose him. Pureblood marriages are not just rainbows and roses, little one. They are complex contracts. In most cases, it is the wife who has everything to lose. If Narcissa would truly defy Lucius, then she risks losing her son."
"That sounds dreadful." Hermione said, her voice quivering slightly as her heart filled with sorrow for her best friend. "Was it genuinely that bad for him, growing up at the Manor?"
The spirit nodded, a sense of sadness colouring her ethereal presence. "Before he met his friends, Draco was a very lonely child. I watched him grow up from within the shadows of the Malfoy wards. His only companions and playmates in his earlier years were the house elves. Lucius deems them as beings unworthy, mere blemishes within the grandeur of his ancestral home. House elves are not to be seen or acknowledged. So, for most of his life, Draco grew up in solitude. He was a quiet boy. He either played on his own, or he scoured the library and lost himself in a wealth of knowledge, driven by his desire to excel. To be better. To be worthy of his father's love. He always thought that all of his problems would be resolved if he could make his father proud ."
"But he's absolutely brilliant!" The brunette exclaimed loudly, startling a group of bats that had made their home in the nook of the tower. They fluttered away into the night.
"Not to his father, he's not. Lord Malfoy does not care for equality. He has always thought himself better than anyone else. You've undoubtedly seen this abhorred trait of him, when you saw how he reacted to you and Harry. To your parents . Everyone is beneath him. Even his own son." Deandra explained.
Hermione looked up at the vast, cloudless night sky, fighting back the tears as she realised she'd never really talked to him about his childhood. She couldn't help but wonder if he'd had friends that stood by him in the first timeline. She really hoped he did. That he hadn't been alone .
"Try and understand Draco, little one. I know that might be difficult, but his upbringing has made him who he is today." Deandra shared her knowledge with her. "He will seldom, if ever, ask for anyone's help, just because his father has hammered it into his mind that it is nothing more than a sign of weakness. He will always think that he's the only one capable of solving a problem, because he's been scheming to prove himself since the day he was born. But he's also extremely loyal to his friends. To you . He would put any Hufflepuff to shame, if you would know the extent of his devotion to his friends. He will carry the weight of the world on his shoulders if it means that you and Harry can live carefree lives. I merely hope you can forgive him for his faults. And that perhaps, you can even help him grow."
The spirit's hand rested gently on Hermione's shoulders, offering her comfort, as the witch let her tears flow freely. If he was reluctant to ask for her help, then she would do anything in her power to be prepared for the day he needed her assistance. That was the least she could do for him after all he'd done for her.
- The Hogwarts Library, 1st of December 1994 -
Anyone would have seen Daphne Greengrass coming from a mile away. Her long blonde hair was swinging left and right as she strutted through the towering shelves of the library as if she owned the place. It had taken her a while before she spotted her best friend, secluded in a shadowy corner of the library. The only light came from some delicate magical bubbles Hermione had conjured around her, casting a soft glow over the books and pages she was trying to read.
"Are you hiding, or just lost in thought?" Daphne asked her when she finally reached her best friend.
Hermione's head snapped up, her eyes blinking in confusion. "What time is it?" she asked, her voice tinged with surprise as she shuffled through the papers and books scattered on her desk.
"Still an hour before dinner." Daphne replied as she sat down next to the brunette and took an amused glance at the books in front of her. "What's all this? Planning to take over Trelawney's job are you? Divination? Time-travel? Blood curses? Dragons? Have you looked too deep into your teacup this morning?"
The Slytherin moved swiftly and snatched a piece of parchment out of Daphne's hands. She did not want her best friend to see what she'd been up to.
"Are you alright, Mione?" the Greengrass heiress asked worriedly. "Have you been sleeping well lately? I've heard you sneak out of the dorms at night more than once ever since the first task. Has something happened?"
Hermione bit her lip nervously and waved her wand around frantically, stacking all of her books and papers neatly together so that she could finally find some order in the chaos again. "I'm fine, really." She couldn't tell Daphne what she'd been up to, she-
"Excuse me," a deep voice interjected suddenly, startling both girls because of his sudden appearance. Viktor Krum smiled apologetically as he approached their table with a slightly awkward gait. Hermione noticed the difference then between his usual grace on a broom, yet his gangly clumsiness when he walked towards them. Like a banshee in chains. Or a seeker out of the air, she mused to herself.
"Hello, Viktor." Hermione greeted him with a warm smile and a soft laugh. "Your admirers hunting you down again, are they?"
Daphne's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Since when had Hermione become so chummy with the Durmstrang champion? With Bulgaria's youngest seeker in nearly a century?
"Yes." He grumbled, casting an annoyed glance over his shoulder at a group of Ravenclaw and Beauxbaton students tittering behind him.
Madam Pince materialised behind them, almost as if she'd apparated. Her stern glance, and a quick reminder that they had to be quiet or leave, immediately quieted them down.
"That voman… is scary." Viktor laughed as he looked back at the two Slytherins in front of him.
The girls shared a quick, amused glance at his comment. After all, they knew their librarian quite well after all these years. No one messed with Madam Pince and her library.
"One time she shushed me for merely wishing her a good morning." Daphne shrugged, still clearly intrigued by the ease of Viktor's conversation with them.
"You knov that the task with dragons is over, Her-my-own?" Viktor asked as he gestured to the stack of books that Hermione finally finished magically organising.
"It's just some light reading," she told the seeker mysteriously, making him chuckle. "And I've told you, Viktor, it is Her-my-oh-knee."
"Her-my-own" He repeated, shaking his head slightly in confusion. "I am sorry. It is hard for me to pronounce."
"We can work on that." She winked at him, her tone light and encouraging.
She remembered the day that Viktor Krum had graced Hogwarts with his presence. The boys were nearly drooling at the quidditch player when he walked into the Great Hall with the rest of Durmstrang. She was still in disbelief that the thin, dark-haired boy would be the one to ask her to the ball. According to her other self and Luna at least. She was sure they'd taken the mickey out of her.
But over the past weeks, Viktor had often frequented the library and sometimes even joined her at her desk. He was obviously grateful for a moment of reprieve from his admirers. For some reason, they all seemed to be intimidated by Hermione. At least the seeker had gotten a tiny bit of peace, thanks to her.
He hesitantly asked if he could sit with them until they left the library. Both girls nodded. Almost immediately, Daphne unleashed a barrage of questions onto the unsuspecting introverted seeker.
Meanwhile, Hermione couldn't help but study his face. Was this really the boy that had wormed his way into her other self's heart? She supposed he was kind of cute, even if his nose sometimes reminded her of Snape's. He had a certain charm. And he was sweet, and caring, not unlike-
A blush spread across her cheeks as Daphne nudged her in the ribs and mouthed: "You're staring."
Viktor turned to her. He seemed shy. "Actually, I vas vondering if you vould like to go to the ball with me?" he asked tentatively. "Unless you are going vith Draco, of course."
She blinked at him in confusion. "Draco? Why on earth would you ever expect me and him to go to the ball together?"
"You tvo are often together, even vhen Harry is not vith you," Viktor noted. "He seems… Difficult? Alvays sneering or brooding, that boy. But vith you, he smiles. I assumed that he vould have asked you to the ball by now."
"You've assumed wrong." She answered a bit too sharply, immediately apologetic and softening her voice. "I would love to go to the ball with you, Viktor."
"As friends?" He asked hesitantly, "I do not vant you to misunderstand my intentions, Hermy…" He chuckled at being unable to pronounce her name correctly, but the frustration was evident on his face. "You are one of the few girls in this school that does not look at me as if they vant to eat me for dinner. I think ve vould have a great time together at the ball."
"So do I." She smiled.
When Hermione and Daphne entered the Slytherin common room half an hour later, her best friend couldn't stop giggling about the fact that the brunette had been asked to the ball by a professional quidditch player.
Hermione couldn't help but notice Draco's lingering gaze on her as they passed him on the way to their dorms to put their bookbags away before dinner.
After dinner, she managed to catch him alone in the hallways as he was on his way back to the Dungeons. He and the boys had agreed to go out flying, and Hermione immediately noticed his eagerness to be on his broom again. To feel the wind on his face.
"The dress you got me… You knew about the Yule Ball?" She asked.
Draco half-smirked. "Mione, I would think that you knew my mother well enough to realise that she uncovers gossip like no other. Did you think that she'd miss something like the Triwizard Tournament or the Yule Ball? She's already sent a camera to Blaise for his birthday, expecting him to take pictures of the glorious event."
She knew that was partly a lie. Perhaps, Narcissa had found out about the Yule Ball. But considering Draco came from the future… He knew the ball would take place.
Hermione hesitated. "Are you certain it's alright for me to go with Viktor? I thought, maybe… Since you hadn't asked me yet-"
"Don't worry so much, Mione." He said as he ruffled her hair gently. "It's your life. You can choose to go to the ball with whoever you want."
At that moment, Draco caught sight of Blaise behind her. "Blaise! Wait up!" He called out to his friend. He then turned back to Hermione. "We're going to fly some rounds around the pitch. We'll catch up later?"
Hermione nodded at him, her emotions swirling within her. As she watched his retreating back, she couldn't help but whisper: "I wanted to go to the ball with you." Dejected, she returned to the common room. Sighing as she couldn't help but feel frustrated that she'd missed her chance to try and get answers out of him. Again .