! This chapter is written from Hermione's perspective !
- Slytherin Common Rooms, 11th of March 1995 -
Hermione ran her fingers through her curls in frustration. Before the Yule Ball, Lavender had taught her some basic hair charms and she'd finally gotten some control over her birds nest. However, none of those spells would keep working if she had to spend her time constantly worrying and having her magic erratically crackle around her in anger.
Lately, she felt as if that was all she could be. Worried about the fate of her two best friends as one had opposed his father, and the other was running headfirst into a trap set by a murderous maniac. Anxious about being the weight of being the new Malfoy heiress, and jokingly telling Draco that maybe one day she would be the Mistress of Malfoy Manor. Even Daphne hadn't believed she'd dared say that to his face. Angry about the boy she loved keeping secrets from her. Furious at herself when she realised that she too, had kept her knowledge hidden from him and had been nothing more than a hypocrite.
"It's not that bad." Daphne awkwardly stated, interrupting Hermione's inner thoughts, as both girls looked down at last night's edition of Witch Weekly. The magazine was laid out on the coffee table in front of them. They had been waiting for the boys to head to breakfast together, when Pansy had waltzed in and smacked her copy on the coffee table in front of them, smirking wickedly. It was probably spreading through the castle like wildfire… And all because she'd been photographed with three of the most eligible teenage boys currently residing at Hogwarts.
Harry was lying on the floor across from her, his face scrunched up as he held the article sideways. Tracey had lent him her copy and his laughter at the picture on the front page soon turned into disgust when he actually read the article and saw all of the pictures. Not just the one that featured Hermione and Draco.
He turned the magazine upside down, still confused. "How did they even edit this? Is this really what we look like on a daily basis? Seriously, this so-called journalist Rita Skeeter needs a better hobby."
True, Harry had come to her rescue when she was about to faint due to sheer exhaustion and shock after the second task. But he had never been anything more than her brother. The picture made it seem as if he was whispering sweet nothings into her ear. Ew. She didn't even want to imagine that.
A paper aeroplane flew into the common room, and Draco intercepted it before it reached Harry, who was seemingly its intended target. The magic slightly reminded Hermione of the interdepartmental memos they used at the Ministry. Who would be sending Harry a message this early in the morning? Ginny?
"Dear Harry." Draco cleared his throat as he unfolded the paper and started reading the contents out loud to the rest of their friends. Harry lunged for the paper but Draco swiftly leaped onto the couch next to Hermione, dodging the Slytherin seeker. "Seeing the latest edition of Witch Weekly, I was wondering if I could perhaps satisfy whatever propositions you offered Dagworth-Granger? Love, Romilda Vane. Well, Harry. It seems like Romilda Vane has some… intriguing proposals for you," the blond wizard teased.
Harry's cheeks flushed, both in embarrassment and anger, as Blaise let out a loud whistle. He was clearly amused by the Gryffindor's flirtatious note.
Hermione put her hand on Harry's arm as he attempted to hex the boy chuckling behind her. Draco crawled further into the sofa, his upper body hidden behind Hermione's back, making Daphne move to the edge of the couch.
"Enough you two," the brunette scolded them lovingly. "At least everyone knows that whatever Rita Skeeter has published is absolute rubbish. Right?"
She did not want to see the look on her friends' faces. Perhaps they knew it was utter garbage. But the rest of the wizarding world wouldn't. For Merlin's sake, she could miss this like a bad toothache. Would she forever be remembered as being part of a love cube between Harry Potter, Viktor Krum, and Draco Malfoy? If only they knew that she was the heiress to House of Malfoy. One word, and Draco would have Rita Skeeter fired, and Witch Weekly retracting all this slander. Not that it would help. The wizarding world had probably already made up its mind about her and her ' harlot ways'. But Hermione knew she would show them who they were dealing with. Rita Skeeter's reckoning was due, hopefully rather sooner than later.
Hermione flipped the page and felt Draco shift his weight behind her. He leaned his head on her shoulder to be able to see what she was reading. It felt oddly comforting to have him so near as if he literally had her back. The pictures of her and Viktor were of them hugging outside the medical tent, and dancing at the Yule Ball. How had Skeeter even gotten these pictures? She'd seen all the ones Blaise had taken, and none of these were his. No way that Colin Creevey had actually dared to sell these…
"At least I look good." Draco joked as he pointed to the picture of the two of them. Photograph-Draco sneered angrily at the intrusive finger that had dared to touch the page and then went back to taking photograph-Hermione's hand and planting a gentle kiss on her knuckles.
"I'm just happy you're wearing pants in this picture. Thank Merlin for Snape transfiguring some towel for you, else we'd forever be haunted with you in your underwear on the front of Witch Weekly." Blaise chuckled, earning him a nudge in the ribs by Daphne.
"This isn't funny!" Hermione hissed at both boys. "I look like a goddamn damsel in distress! And the kiss. People probably think we're nearly betrothed!"
Draco gently warped his arm around her middle, pulling her closer to him, trying to soothe her as he whispered: "It doesn't matter who believes this, Mione. We know who you truly are. If you'd known about the exact stipulations of the task, you would have stuffed Gillyweed in all of our pockets before we were put into stasis. You're far from a damsel in distress. Once the world learns that you've developed a cure for lycanthropy, they wouldn't dare write this about you. If they knew you were Heiress Malfoy, the head editor of Witch Weekly would quiver in their boots. If you want, we could publish a paper on the cure and start producing it. There's no use in keeping it hidden so that we might best Greyback and his pack if it would bring you suffering."
"No," Hermione stated firmly. "We can't risk the werewolf catching wind of our plans. If we meet him again, he won't know what is coming for him. Having to suffer gossip is a small price to pay for bringing down Greyback."
He smiled at her tentatively and let go of her. When he finally wiggled off the couch, Draco offered her his hand to help her up. "You're no damsel in distress, Mione. You are Hermione Dagworth-Granger. Once you're ready to take the British Wizarding World by storm, they won't know what has hit them."
"Exactly! Draco is absolutely right." Daphne proudly exclaimed to her friend. "We all know that you and Harry are like siblings. But what girl wouldn't want to be dating both a Lord of an Ancient House and an international quidditch star?" she teased.
Blaise fist-bumped her, and the two snakes smirked at each other.
Hermione rolled her eyes at her friends, but finally smiled, as she took Draco's offer to help her up.
"So you have been feeding Draco love potions for all these years, mudblood." Pansy suddenly accused her out of nowhere, making Draco visibly flinch.
Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, but his gaze was locked on Pansy. He was oozing pure rage. She'd always wondered what had been going on between those two. The other Slytherin girl had stopped trying to worm her way into Draco's presence for the past year or so, but apparently, she was ready to be a thorn in their side again.
"I'm flattered you think I've been that capable at brewing potions since I was a mere first year, Parkinson," the brunette quipped back, her voice laced with sarcasm. "But I don't need your praise."
"Don't think you are better than us, mudblood." The dark-haired girl sneered, poking her finger in Hermione's chest.
Hermione couldn't help but smirk. She hooked her arm into Draco's, and held him back, giving him a stern look. This was her battle to fight. Not his.
"But I am better than you," she argued confidently. "I am magically superior. Far more intelligent. You are nothing more than a jealous little girl, Pansy."
A gasp went through the Slytherins still lounging in the common room. Silence descended over them, everyone stopping in their tracks as they were about to make their way to breakfast. Some of them stared open-mouthed. Others were smirking.
"You are nothing more than a little know-it-all!" Pansy answered furiously. "Draco only likes you because you've managed to put some sort of spell on him. Don't think that we haven't noticed! There is only one reason Draco could disobey his father so easily during the second task. You've tricked him, and bound him to-"
Draco stepped forward now that she'd insulted him. Hermione didn't need to be attuned to his magic to know he was furious.
"Have you forgotten the promise I made to you last year, Parkinson?" he asked, his voice laced with venom. "If I would ever hear you call Hermione a mudblood again, you would come to regret it. I was merely an heir back then, but now, as Lord Malfoy, I could make life very difficult for you and your family." The ring on his hand flashed dangerously, and Hermione couldn't help but think that Pansy looked at it with hunger in her eyes. Oh. She supposed that the pure-blood would want the power that came along with the title of Lady Malfoy.
"But it doesn't have to be like that, Draco." Pansy batted her eyelashes at him in what she thought was a flirtatious manner. "I don't know what Granger has on you, but you should associate yourself with those of better breeding, someone with the proper heritage. Merlin knows what her ancestors-"
"My ancestors," Draco nearly growled, making Pansy take a step back. Hermione had never seen him this angry. "Hermione's ancestors are my own. The founder of House Malfoy adopted a witch into his family. For hundreds of years, my own family, and the descendants of that witch, have been considered family by magic itself. So don't you dare insult Hermione's ancestors. She is heiress Malfoy after all."
"Draco," Hermione chided him, not wanting that particular piece of information to be shared. It was bad enough that people looked at her weirdly for being the future Lady Dagworth-Granger. Now they would know that she fell under Lord Malfoy's protection as well. But she understood that he did not want either their ancestors or herself, to be talked down to like this. His position as the Master of Malfoy Manor would never allow him to have others degrade her in this manner. He had to defend both her honour, and that of his House.
Surprisingly, Pansy started laughing. "Granger? A Malfoy by magical adoption? For hundreds of years? You must be joking!"
"Have a care, Pansy. You do not want to insult House Malfoy any more than you already have," he threatened, his voice low.
"Fine," the witch said, crossing her arms in defiance. "Then show us the heiress ring. Only a true Malfoy can wear it after all."
"That extravagant thing?" Hermione huffed. "Until I can find a spell to make it resemble modern-day jewellery, I'm keeping it hidden. But if you insist." With a wave of her hand, the thick silver ring topped with a snake-shaped in the letter M appeared on her hand. Pansy's eyes turned as big as saucers. "Satisfied? I would like to head to breakfast now."
Hermione pulled Draco away and Harry scrambled to his feet to follow his two best friends. Daphne and Blaise seemingly stayed behind to observe the other Slytherin's reaction to their little power display. The brunette couldn't help but wonder if Draco's influence had turned them into scheming heirs and future politicians, or if it was just their Slytherin nature.
"You didn't have to do that," Hermione murmured as they were only a few minutes away from the Great Hall.
"Of course I did," he scoffed. "If you'd belonged to House Potter, Harry would have done the same. No one messes with the Heir or Heiress of a House. Definitely not Pansy Parkinson . I am not going to apologise for what I did if that is what you're expecting." His anger simmered beneath the surface as he tried to calm down.
"I'm not." She sighed as Harry wiggled his way between herself and Draco.
Harry slung his arms over their shoulders and pulled both of them closer to him. "Can't I join the House of Malfoy as well, you guys? I know I will always have a home with you, but wouldn't it be nice to truly be bound? After all, without the two of you, I might still be living in that cupboard under the stairs."
Hermione nearly cringed at how true that statement was. She remembered the first day she'd met Harry. At least now, he had a family that cherished him. Sirius and Amelia treated him as their son, and not as a freak. Susan, Castor, and Polarys had become his surrogate siblings.
"Now don't get all emotional on me," the Boy Who Lived joked, sensing both of their inner distress. "It's a fact that we were three lonely children but in the end, we found each other. We've chosen and made our own family. What about making it official?"
"You always do know what to say, don't you?" Draco laughed as he ruffled his best friend's hair. "But I'm not making you my heir. You have enough lordships to inherit already. You'd be my brother. And Hermione, she-"
Harry grinned wickedly and Hermione could faintly see Draco mouth a 'don't you dare, Potter' to him. "Hermione can always be my sister and join House Potter! No offence Draco, but I'm not letting you join even if I do consider you my brother. I know that the two of you will end up together, and I'd rather not see the two people I consider my brother and sister kissing you know."
Hermione elbowed Harry in the ribs playfully, hoping neither one of them saw her blush.
"Why are you always so violent, Mione!? Sirius is right. You're like a kitten, always on the prowl and ready to attack whoever annoys you!" Harry exclaimed.
Draco laughed heartily at that and joined in the banter. Soon the silver trio found themselves at the Slytherin table, scooping breakfast onto their plates at last.
After a while, Neville, Hannah, Luna, Susan, Ginny, Blaise, and Daphne joined them. Hermione had never really noticed before how many different Houses had joined their corner of the Slytherin table over the past few years.
"Stop frowning," Luna chided Blaise as he was observing the glances the rest of the school threw at Hermione. "There is no use in worrying. If you do, you will attract Wrackspurts and get wrinkles by the time you are thirty." He rolled his eyes at Luna and kissed her on the cheek. Luna quipped: "Make that by the time you are twenty-nine."
"I feel like something bad is about to happen," Blaise admitted quietly, trying to explain why he felt so anxious and worried. "I've never felt more like an outcast than now. Everyone is staring at us."
"I'm sorry," Hermione whispered. She'd been so hungry before, but the gossipping in the Great Hall had made her lose all of her appetite and all she could do was move her food around on her plate. It was all fine and well when she was in the comfort of the Dungeons, surrounded by her friends. But the scrutiny of the rest of the Hogwarts population was too much to bear for the fifteen-year-old witch.
"I was hoping you'd be sorry!" Cedric teased as he sat down next to Daphne and kissed his girlfriend on the cheek in greeting. He was quickly handed some toast by Daphne and dug in greedily. "You have no idea how disappointed I was when I found that lovely article spread around the Hufflepuff Common Room this morning! Mione, what a shame I wasn't included in your illustrious love life. Now no one knows about my dashing good looks!" The prefect pouted.
Hermione couldn't help but laugh as Daphne playfully nudged her boyfriend in the ribs. She knew that Cedric was making fun of her so she would stop worrying. Who cared what the others thought? Her friends were still right here with her. And they weren't about to leave her side anytime soon.
"I'm glad to hear you find it funny," the brunette said as she raised her goblet of orange juice to him in thanks.
By the time they'd nearly finished eating, Viktor showed up and cleared his throat awkwardly, holding his own copy of Witch Weekly in his hands. "Myown, I am so sorry about the article. I do not vant my fame to hurt you in any vay. I cannot believe that the British press is allowed to publish such lies vithout confirming anything vith their sources. If my agent gets vind of hov they dared publish this rubbish, be sure that I vill sue the one responsible for this!"
"Already working on it, Viktor," Draco piped up before Hermione could thank him. "Your help would be greatly appreciated."
Both boys nodded to each other and Hermione mentioned how grateful she was for having friends like them.
Once Viktor left to sit with his classmates, the plates were cleared and the post arrived. It was only fifteen minutes before classes started, and Hermione was not expecting any mail. Until she saw Ulysses flying down, carrying a ton of letters. Following Draco's familiar were tens of owls, all in different shapes and colours, and they dumped the parchments they were carrying in front of her. Hermione groaned in frustration.
"Nothing like hate mail and propositions for my hand in marriage to start the day!" Draco grimaced, the disgust drooping off his face as he'd already managed to take a quick look at a few of his letters. "Whatever should I do with this?" He flicked his wand and burnt all of the letters, save one from his mother.
Hermione tore through her own letters. "They are calling me a harlot," she hissed, angrily ripping up another letter. "Honestly, let it all burn ." As she scraped all of the envelopes together, she touched one of them and cursed out loud immediately, making Draco and Harry reach out to her. "Bloody hell, that hurts!"
Her hands were covered in boils. Draco scowled. "Let's go to the hospital wing. Those look nasty."
She nodded, fighting back the tears, as she wiggled herself off the bench. Her best friend was behind her in an instant, helping her up. She cast a wandless numbing spell with a deep sigh, desperately trying to ease the pain.
Behind them, she could hear Harry and Susan discussing what had happened. They would be writing to Amelia soon, and were collecting all the letters in a protective container Neville took out of his book bag. Apparently, he used it for herbology.
"Been practising I see." Draco wiggled his eyebrows, trying to distract her by praising her skill. "Very impressive to be casting without a wand."
She huffed as he opened the doors of the Great Hall for her. "You do it all the time. And silently at that. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you had years on the rest of us."
He nearly tripped at that comment, and she couldn't help but smirk. How many more hints could she possibly drop? Oh well. He'd probably figure it out soon enough. "Has Deandra been training you in secret? Could she give me some pointers, now that I'm the heiress? Perhaps she has a better way of explaining than any of the books I read."
Quickly recovering, Draco gasped and put his hand on his chest. "Miss Dagworth-Granger! Don't let Madam Pince hear you say that! You have just betrayed your precious books! What blasphemy to assume that real-life practice could possibly best the theory of the written word!"
Hermione rolled her eyes, making him laugh. She was glad he was there with her, trying to distract her from the pain. Now that she finally had him alone, though, she couldn't help but remind him again. "Joke all you want, but I still don't like that you've been keeping secrets from me."
They'd almost made it to the Hospital Wing. Thank Merlin. The boils were starting to spread.
"I'm sorry, love. But what else can I do to keep you interested? I thought my mysterious and brooding ways were what was so attractive about me? That's what at least one of the letters I received today said," he joked.
"They forgot to add you're a snobby self-righteous prat!" She quipped back at him, a smile tugging at her lips.
He laughed at her description of him and ruffled her hair before he opened the door to the Hospital Wing.
Madam Pomfrey immediately came running and was clearly furious. She was in disbelief that the Hogwarts wards did not keep out hate mail, and cursed the Headmaster for his oversight and not protecting the students better. The matron covered Hermione's hands and lower arms in a thick pink paste. "Now you will just need to wait a little, dear," she said. "I can give you something for the pain."
"It's alright," Hermione answered as Draco fluffed the pillow behind her back to make her more comfortable. "I already cast a numbing charm on it."
The mediwitch's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Smart thinking, dear. The boys should be grateful for having you as their friend. Merlin, they need it after ending up here all the time. Damned quidditch." She murmured as she frowned at Draco who sheepishly looked back at her. "I'll go get you two a cup of tea."
Draco plopped into the armchair next to Hermione and transfigured it so the legs grew taller and he could rest his feet on the end of her bed, making himself comfortable as he closed his eyes. She could feel him touch the tip of her shoe with his own as he relaxed. He was seeping some family magic into her to ease her pain. Perhaps she had not been hiding her discomfort well enough. The numbing spell could only do so much after all.
"Thank you," she whispered. "You can head to class, you know. It might take a while to heal."
He shrugged. "I'll stay. You'd be bored without my joyous presence. This is the least I can do. If I hadn't been so caught up in the moment during the second task, they would have never gotten a picture of us like that."
She rolled her eyes and muttered a feather-light charm on her arms, making it easier to hold them up in the air.
"When have you become so efficient at wandless magic?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "We've been training together for a while now, but I never noticed it came so easily to you."
Hermione blushed. "Becoming Heiress to the Malfoy line helped my core expand sooner," she said. "So I'm not sure if I would've been able to do it otherwise."
He scoffed at her. "Please. The Hermione I know is powerful and talented. Once you come of age and reach magical maturity, you'll probably surprise me by moving a mountain silently without even blinking."
She couldn't help but ponder his words. The Hermione he knew. Was he referring to her? Or to her future self?
"I can feel the gears turning," he told her, interrupting her train of thought. "What are you thinking about, Mione?"
"Sometimes I wonder how you know me so well," she admitted. "It's as if you know me better than myself. As if you've lived a lifetime getting to know me already."
He sighed and sat up straight, leaning his chin onto his folded hands. Draco was watching her carefully, and she had to fight to keep the blush off her cheeks. "You know, sometimes, you say the strangest things. It's times like these I wonder if I do know you. Or if you yourself, have been keeping secrets from me."
"I thought an aura of mystery was what made you so attractive? Perhaps I'm taking a leaf out of your book," she teased him, not wanting to tell him the truth if he wouldn't tell her either. She still wanted to make sure that he loved her. Not the idea of her.
He couldn't help but laugh as she quipped his earlier words back at him. "That's true. But I've been thinking lately. I promise to tell you the truth at the end of the school year. How does that sound?"
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she blinked at him. "You will?"
Draco nodded and took out his wand, his expression serious as he put a privacy bubble around the two of them. "I can't tell you sooner, Mione. What I'm about to tell you might end up hurting Harry if anyone else learns of my secrets. I know you've become a skilled occlumence, but if Voldemort has set up a trap for Harry, I can't risk this information getting to him. Not even you. No matter how much I want to tell you. There are consequences if I do."
"That sounds fair," she said. After all, the version of her she'd met after touching the time-turner had said Voldemort had come back, starting a new Wizarding War. If the Dark ever knew that Draco had gone back through time and was about to defy their Dark Lord… Merlin. They would tear him apart. Piece by piece, just to learn whatever they could to win the war.
The two Slytherins accepted their tea from Madam Pomfrey and Draco helped her drink hers before he settled into his armchair again. His eyes eventually fluttered closed.
Hermione studied his face. He looked tired lately. She could see the lines of fatigue on his face and she had no clue how he was keeping up with both helping Harry and Cedric train, as well as doing all his school work. Granted, he probably knew the whole curriculum, already but he still had homework to hand in. Draco had also joined them in their extra potions classes, and she swore that she saw him sneak off from time to time, probably to train some more on his own. She didn't want to think about the types of spells he was learning to fight in the upcoming war.
It seemed like the weight of his secret knowledge was taking its toll. If only she could bear it with him… But she had to be patient. After all, one day, she would get her memories back. That was the one secret she would keep, however. If Draco knew, she would never know if he truly was in love with her.
Not much later, Hermione too drifted off into sleep. Draco was still touching her and seeping magic into her slowly, even in his dreams. It was that connection that made her stare in wonder when she entered his mind and observed his sleeping visions.
She found an older version of him sitting in a field filled with irises. He looked so laid-back. He was leaning on his elbows and smiling at someone further ahead, even waving his hand to get their attention. Before she could take in who he was looking at, he'd apparently noticed her presence and frowned at her.
"I forgot my magic was still bound to yours because I wanted to help heal you," he said as both his body and the scene shifted. He looked like his fourteen-year-old self again and was standing in front of her in the hallways of Malfoy Manor, his hands in his pockets nonchalantly as if she'd not just intruded on what seemed to be a pleasant dream.
"You use the Manor as your mind palace to ward off legilimency?" she asked in awe as she looked around and saw memories floating through the air, hiding away in nooks and crannies and secret passageways she didn't know existed.
"My ancestral home is a fortress after all. Why? Planning on sneaking around are you?" he teased.
"No." She scowled at him. "Even though I am curious about what you're hiding behind there."
Draco followed her gaze as it lingered on the doors to the drawing room behind him. A giant silver lock, held together by chains that sprouted out of the ceiling and walls around it was in the middle of the door, keeping it tightly closed. "Ah. That would be the biggest secret of them all." He smiled awkwardly. "I tried to lock it as best as I could."
She nodded, not wanting to pry further. After all, he'd promised he'd tell her the truth eventually. "My mindscape is a library. The shelves switch places constantly, much like the stairways at Hogwarts," she supplied, trying to distract both of them because of the awkwardness of her suddenly ending up in his mind that he'd always guarded so heavily. True, they were able to communicate mentally, but actually being able to look into his mind was something entirely else. "Where you built a fortress, I built a maze."
"An interesting strategy," he approved. "Did my godfather recommend that particular tactic?"
"Deandra did, actually," she answered. Before Draco could question her further, she felt herself being shaken awake. The magical bond between the two of them was severed because of it, and she felt herself pull out of his mind immediately.
Hermione opened her eyes and saw Harry smiling down at her. "Mione, are you alright? Your hands look healed," the raven-haired boy observed, smacking down his bookbag and falling down into the armchair on the other side of Hermione's bed, greeting Draco with a small wave as he too woke up.
The blond gave no indication of what had just happened and nodded his head at Harry in greeting. Draco yawned and stretched his limbs. Perhaps spending the day sleeping had been good for him.
"I'm fine, thank you for asking," the brunette answered as she took in Harry's face. Something looked off. "Why are your eyebrows gone, though?"
"Oh. I forgot about that," Harry said as he conjured a small mirror to look at himself, waving his wand to return his eyebrows to his face. "You wouldn't happen to know how to deal with a full-grown blast-ended skrewt, would you 'Mione?" he asked sheepishly.
"What did you get yourself into now, Harry James Potter?" She sighed, winking at Draco when their best friend started explaining how during their Care of Magical Creatures class Hagrid had accidently told them at least one would be used in the third task. Perhaps Madam Pomfrey was right, and her boys were lucky to have her around to keep them out of danger.