- Slytherin Common Room, 4th of June 1992 –
Anyone who knew Draco knew that he'd been in a foul mood for the past few weeks. No one, not even Harry and Hermione knew exactly why however. He was brooding, trying to find a solution to their Quirrellmort problem. It wasn't that much of a stretch to connect the dots, since it had always been their D.A.D.A. Professor who'd gone after the stone. The blond was so desperate to tell his friends, but he also felt scared and responsible for their safety at the same time. Sure, they had faced off against the Dark Lord on multiple occasions, but what if he'd changed so much that his friends would get hurt this time round?
It also definitely didn't help that he was bitten by Hagrid's bloody baby dragon Norbert and he had to stay in the hospital wing for a few days, his hand turning a scaly Slytherin green in some sort of allergic reaction he'd had. He would never forget how Hermione happily chuckled when he got bitten, saying that the dragon liked him. Whatever had given her that idea, he had no clue, but she had smiled at him knowingly, saying it was nothing more than a sign of affection. At least she had the decency to feel bad for him when he had to go to Madam Pomfrey the day after and had sat by him to read his homework for him.
Thank God Weasley came through and contacted his brother Charlie to come and take the damned dragon, who apparently turned out to be a Norberta instead.
"I know you aren't worried about exams," Hermione said as she plunged down next to him on the floor in the common room, the edge of her book bag hitting him in the side. She smiled at him apologetically and moved, sitting cross-legged now and joining him in staring into the fire. "So, what's been up with you lately? You've been brooding."
Draco sighed, unsure if she actually had deducted what he'd been feeling or if somehow, he'd lost a grip on the bond due to all his anxiety and she'd felt his own worry seep into her unconsciously. Bloody vow. He hoped they'd get rid of it soon, so he wouldn't need to be so guarded around her all the time. So he would finally know if their friendship was genuine, or if it was just her responding to the magic within… No. He couldn't think like that. Even his Hermione had been his friend before anything else, even if they started off bickering more often than not.
He took a deep sigh. What should he tell one of his two best friends? That he had been planning and plotting to take down their Professor? That he had sneaked off to the Room of Requirement more often than not lately, just to get in some extra training? That he was preparing for the inevitable? For a war?
Deandra and he had long since established that some things just had to happen, and the closer Draco got to June, the more it felt like it would be the fight against Voldemort. Bloody hell, how often had Harry even encountered him? A sodding 11-year-old boy and his two friends had taken on the Dark Lord. Where the fuck had Dumbledore been to begin with?
As if on cue, Harry walked into the common room and sat on Draco's other side. "Me and Sirius were supposed to meet with Dumbledore tonight," he began, reacting to Hermione's inquisitive look. "But in the middle of the conversation, an owl flew in and the Headmaster said he had to leave urgently to attend some business at the Ministry. What a waste of time."
Harry now rummaged in his pockets, a fluid and silvery grey fabric running through his fingers. The boy leaned closer to them and whispered: "Dumbledore did give me back my father's invisibility cloak though, you guys want to see?"
Mione, as usual, was immediately impressed and excited, wanting to study the rare artefact.
Draco, just stared at Harry, still stuck on the first piece of information he'd shared with them. "What do you mean Professor Dumbledore had to leave urgently?"
Harry shrugged, Hermione now leaning over Draco to take the cloak into her hands as Harry had offered it to her. "Oh, something came up at the Wizengamot. He said your father-"
Draco didn't need to hear the rest of this. If Lucius Malfoy was involved, that could only mean one thing. Fuck.
"We need to go, now," Draco whispered harshly, making Hermione frown. "Take the cloak Hermione, you go get the map, Harry."
Unsure what Draco was on about, but never one to question his friend's actions, Harry ran to their dorm to get the Marauder's Map as Hermione nicely folded the cloak in her lap. After Christmas was over, the twins had been nice enough to give it to the one and only heir of the Marauders. It wasn't if they needed it any longer anyway. They'd already learnt about all the secret hallways in and out of the castle.
Draco stood up, pulling Hermione up with him, telling her to leave her book bag.
"Draco," Hermione whispered, taking his arm, slowing him down. "What's going on? Did something happen? Was it your father? I noticed that you got distracted when Harry mentioned him."
He didn't have time to explain. He needed to get to his godfather, now. He would know what to do.
But, he also knew that both of his friends deserved an explanation. Honestly, he'd been a bit of a recluse in the past few months, not spending as much time together as they used to. He couldn't tell them he hadn't joined them in the library as often because he was training to protect them. That he'd turned himself back into a soldier, albeit one that fought on the right side this time. If only his smaller magical core and body wouldn't slow him down as severely as they did…
"Do you remember that day I went into the forest after the match against Hufflepuff?" he whispered.
Hermione nodded, worry in her eyes. "The dead unicorn," she gasped, realisation dawning in her eyes. "It's cursed to drink its blood," she whispered back as they made their way to the exit of the common room.
Harry would have to find them with the map, they needed to find their head of house as fast as possible.
"Exactly, only someone on the brink of death with no regard for life would willingly drink a unicorn's blood and risk the curse," Draco agreed as they walked through the wall, exiting their common room with Hermione in tow. "I did some research. Godfather gave me a pass to the restricted section. You remember that item that was stolen at Gringotts? And what Hagrid had to say about it? I think-"
"It's the Philosopher's Stone?" Hermione deducted.
Draco stopped in his tracks and blinked at her. Wait what?
"You're not the only inquisitive member of our little trio," she said, crossing her arms, holding the cloak closer to her body and raising an eyebrow at him daringly. "I didn't even need to go into the Restricted Section. Once Hagrid mentioned the Flamels, I looked them up because I remembered the potioneering book I took from my vault mentioned them. My ancestors trained under them, you see. Nicolas and Pernelle Flamel made the Philosopher's Stone. The only thing that would be that valuable to be kept in Gringotts, to be almost stolen, and that was linked to the Flamels would have to be the stone. It all made sense."
It all made sense. She was fucking brilliant. How had it taken him more than four years to notice last time around? He'd always thought she was nothing more than a swotty little know-it-all, using her booksmarts to get better grades than him. How had he never realised how perceptive she truly was, even from such a young age?
"So, assuming I'm correct, someone is after the stone then?" Hermione impatiently asked, as they hurried along towards Snape's office once more.
Draco nodded, not wanting to get into the details before Harry joined them, and almost ran into Ron and Neville who just excited the potion's classroom.
"Oh, hey you guys," Neville greeted them, the Gryffindor smiling at them. "If you need Professor Snape, you just missed him. He's just been called away on urgent business."
"Works for me," Ron shivered in disgust. "I didn't need that detention to be any longer than it already was. I can barely feel my arms from scrubbing those cauldrons!"
"It has to be Harry," Deandra spoke up in his mind suddenly. "The prophecy your father tried to get in your Fifth Year… It has to be about Harry and Voldemort. If the strands of fate are this strong, pulling them together, forcing them to fight each other… I have seen prophecies before in my days, right after I was born from magic. It can only mean one thing. Neither can live while the other survives…"
Not sure how to process that particular information about Deandra's background, Draco immediately realised she was right. They'd need to get to the prophecy to be sure, but Harry and Voldemort kept being pulled towards each other, fate playing an evil game with the both of them.
As if on cue, boy wonder rounded the corner at exactly that time, panting with the map in hand. "So, what's up?" he smiled at his friends, Neville and Ron.
Draco thought it would be best to drop the bombshell. "Pretty sure Voldemort is trying to get the Philosopher's Stone that's hidden behind the door on the third floor corridor," he said, looking at the four children's shocked eyes.
Harry looked down at the map for a few seconds, and back up to his fellow first years. "Well then. What are we standing around here for? Let's go!"
Bloody Gryffindork. Courageousness and stupidity were their best pals it seems. Luckily an actually capable wizard – not that any of them knew that – was tagging along this time. He just hoped he wouldn't have to show too much of his knowledge. He also prayed to Merlin that his friends would survive once more.
"Let's go?" Ron asked, blinking. "Did you just say a bunch of first years should go and stop You-Know-Who?"
"Yeah," Harry shrugged. "Where's your Gryffindor courage, mate? If I could beat him as a baby, it can't be that hard."
Neville and Hermione actually chuckled and after a bit more convincing from Harry, all five of them ended up going to the third-floor corridor.
Luckily, Fluffy was still asleep as they wanted to go through the trap door.
Draco, having explored this part of the magical challenges already, had expected the Devil's snare when they fell through.
Ron started screaming immediately but Neville and Hermione ensured the others that nothing would happen as long as they stayed calm. The youngest Weasley son, however, did not get the memo, and Neville and Hermione had to work together to scare the plant away with a sunlight charm. How Weasley had survived his first years at Hogwarts the first time round was honestly beyond Draco's comprehension.
Even though Draco had already passed through these rooms once before, all the way until the chest board at least, he wanted to see how the quartet of current and previous Gryffindors solved the tasks. If there ever were any real issues he could easily save them, so he was fine playing the supporting fifth member, watching their backs as they went deeper and deeper.
As Hogwarts' best seeker, Harry easily spotted the winged key that opened the door to the next room. Once he'd gotten the damaged key and used it, Draco cast a silent shield charm at their backs as they ran through the door, making sure the others were protected from the flying keys still attacking them.
Next up was the giant chess game where Weasley turned himself into a bloody martyr by sacrificing himself so that the four of them could continue and stop Voldemort. Seems like he wasn't all that useless then in helping the trio survive their first six years at Hogwarts. Draco had to admit, he had a newfound respect for Ron's strategic skills, even though he would never admit it to the redhead.
Neville assured them that he would stay behind with Ron and try to contact Professor McGonagall or anyone really about what had been going on. The Gryffindor wished the three Slytherins the best of luck and Draco cast another silent shield charm around the two Gryffindors as they walked off, Neville half carrying Ron on his shoulder. The blond added a slight featherlight charm which probably wouldn't be noticed by anyone, but definitely appreciated considering Neville had to haul Ron back all the way.
As the silver trio progressed into the next room, they easily solved the potions puzzle since all three of them had become quite proficient in Potions.
Hermione quickly came to the realisation there was only enough of the potion left for one person. She argued that Harry should be the one to continue, but she was loath to let him face whatever danger beyond alone.
Draco grabbed his wand nervously. He could just tear down those flames without a second thought. If the potions weren't enough of an indicator, the cursed fire definitely showed that this challenge had been set up by his godfather. Luckily, Severus had taught him the dark spell back in his fifth year, and he could easily pass through it. Should he show the others? Or not?
"Draco, do you think your family magic could get all three of us through that?" Hermione suddenly wondered out loud, her finger on the tip of her chin as she was thinking out loud. "Like the shield you used in the girl's bathroom that time? Professor Snape told Professor McGonagall that it was stronger than any regular shield, so perhaps…" she droned off.
"Hermione, I could kiss you," Harry chuckled, making Hermione make a face, even if she was happy at his praise. "Platonically, of course," the raven-haired boy explained.
"So, you think you can do it?" Harry asked Draco.
He had to do his best not to snort at that. After all, Harry had no clue that Draco had a few more years of experience with magic than them. As Hermione hypothesised, Malfoy family magic would get them through. They didn't need to know it wasn't the exact same shielding spell as the one he used last time.
Acting as if he was struggling to hold up such a powerful shield, the three of them walked through the cursed flames, the potion already forgotten.
Finally, they came upon a room lit with torches, Quirrell standing in front of what seemed to be a giant mirror.
"I'm surprised you didn't show up alone, Potter," Quirrellmort spat without a single stutter as he was staring at them in the reflection of the mirror, clear disgust in his eyes.
It only took one glance at the mirror for Draco to stumble back. What was that thing? He could see himself, his real self together with his Mione. They were sitting in her garden, enjoying a glass of wine and watching the sunset and in between them, a small head of pale blond curls was sitting.
No. Why would it be so cruel and show him that? The life that they'd imagined and dreamt off before the war tore them apart. A normal life. A life he would never get.
Pain and regret coursed through him, Hermione immediately grabbing his hand. Fuck. She'd sensed him lose control of his occlumency for a second. Even though he knew he would need to cool it down for her, he couldn't tear his eyes away from that mirror.
She was gone. Whatever that was, would never be. Merlin. What was this cruelty?
"Draco," Deandra said, trying to calm him down as she felt the panic in him rise. "Get your bearings. Hermione and Harry need you. Don't mourn her, not now. It can still happen, if you just-"
"No!" he screamed back at her in his mind, ripping his hand out of Hermione's as he did so, trying to get distance between them. "I refuse to force her into this. She will have to pick me for me and not because of some bloody bond I made with her other self. Not because of something she has no memory off. I will do anything to prevent that from happening this time round. She is nothing more than a child. She deserves better to be bound by a vow! If that thing is showing the future, then I don't want any of it, if it wasn't her choice to begin with!" he raged at the spirit.
In the back of his mind, he registered Harry talking to Voldemort, Hermione reaching out for him again. Fuck. He had to get his shit together and fast. He just didn't know how much seeing his Hermione would affect him.
"The mirror doesn't show the future, little dragon," Deandra soothed him. "The mirror of Erised shows your deepest desire. Would you really deny yourself that, a happy future, just so she could be free?"
"Yes," he exclaimed. She had given up everything for him. She had snuck around, lied to her friends, all while trying to protect him. Trying to bloody help him out of that vow to kill Dumbledore, even though his godfather had already taken care of that. She was always protecting him and always had his back, no matter what. He'd promised both her and himself that he would do the same for her. That was the only reason he was here. So that this time, she could live. So Harry would be safe and able to defeat the Dark Lord when the time came.
Draco was finally taken out of his sorrow as Harry boldly stated: "I'm sorry Professor, but you must have misunderstood. I don't think the Philosopher's Stone can remove the smell of death coming from your turban."
Hermione gasped, seemingly also lost in her thoughts as Draco noticed her staring at the mirror.
The blond blinked at Harry for a second, remembering where he was, and then smirked. Attaboy, Potter.
"Silence!" Quirrell yelled. "My master will not tolerate this! He will have your idiotic heads! How dare you offend the Dark Lord!"
As the Professor finally loosened his turban at the urging of his so-called master, the ugliest thing Draco had ever seen showed up at the back of head. Snakeface was literally stuck to the back of Quirrell's skull like a fucking parasite. He almost gagged just looking at it, Voldemort's red eyes staring at him as they'd done so often.
"Give me the stone," he hissed at Harry.
"I don't have it," Harry shrugged, turning to Hermione and Draco. "You guys seen it?" he asked his friends, who were now both holding their wands, ready to cast if it came down to him.
"Insolent children!" the Professor yelled, looking at the silver trio in the mirror. "You, girl, tell me what you see in the mirror."
Hermione stammered, for the first time in her life lost for words, but kept her wand trained on the Professor. Finally, she answered that all she could see was herself as head girl.
"Lies!" Voldemort yelled as Quirrell turned and flicked his wand at her, throwing Hermione backwards into the wall.
In only a split of a second both Draco and Harry reacted.
Draco's magic unconsciously lashed out, throwing up a shield and a cushioning charm around Hermione, the bond trying to protect his wife. The brunette witch landed safely, smiling at Draco as she touched the outer edge of his shield in appreciation.
Draco let out a breath he didn't know he was holding as he lowered his shield, Hermione aiming her wand at the D.A.D.A. Professor in a vengeance.
Harry just yelled an Expelliarmus - still his favourite spell even if it was Sirius Black and Remus Lupin who had taught it to him this time. Unfortunately, Harry was still only an 11-year-old boy and he could not fight the power of an adult and its… parasite.
Hermione threw a stunner at Quirrell, who easily flicked it away and decided to retaliate. Draco was too fast however, and had a shield around both him and Hermione so it could take the brunt of the attack.
What happened next would explain Quirrell's unfortunate demise, because as Quirrellmort reached for Harry, he got burnt.
"The blood ward," Deandra said, amazed and weirdly intrigued as she saw his skin crack and then turn to ash. "It's still active. Dumbledore said it was connected to Harry's home, to the blood of his mother. The blood already runs in him and his home… His home doesn't need to be a physical estate. Home is…"
"Home is where his family and friends are," Draco finished for her.
Seeing that he was hurting Voldemort without any effort whatsoever, Harry thought it to be a wise idea to put both of his hands to Quirrellmort's face.
Draco lowered the shield, and he and Hermione carefully walked over to Harry and Quirrell. Their wands raised, they were both surprised to see whatever Harry was doing actually worked as Quirrell quite literally turned into dust completely, leaving Voldemort to be nothing but a wraith. A wraith which was going straight for Harry…
"Harry!" Hermione yelled, casting another spell that went straight through Voldemort. It didn't work, and she physically reached out for her friend, barely catching him as the wraith that passed through Harry's body made him faint.
Both Hermione and Harry landed on the floor with an oomph, Draco casting a cushioning charm in the nick of time.
He walked over to his two best friends and did a quick scan of Harry, making Hermione raise her eyebrows at his skills.
"It's alright," he told her after the scan was done. "He just drained his core. All he will need is rest and perhaps beating some sense into him. You'd almost think he was a bloody Gryffindor taunting Voldemort like that."
Hermione laughed through her tears, the fear and shock finally catching up to her.
"Can't you just use your shield to heal him? Your family magic would work, right?" she asked innocently, looking up at Draco.
Draco blinked at her. What was she on about? "My shield? What do you mean? It doesn't heal, Mione. It just protects from harm, even if it is combined with my family magic."
"Oh," Hermione frowned, surprise filling her voice. "It's always healed me. That time in the bathroom I had a big cut on my arm, but it was gone by the time I reached the Hospital Wing. And even just now when you caught me, the small scar I had from last week's herbology lesson also disappeared," she stated, showing him her hand as proof.
Fuck.
"I can't bloody well tell her it's because we're married that the family magic drains from my core to heal minor wounds,'" he said to Deandra. "Why hadn't I thought of this before? I should have been way more careful using my magic around her!"
"The family magic works for you because you're technically a Malfoy, Mione," he came up with quickly, hoping she would accept his bullshit as truth. Knowing Hermione Granger, however, she would probably go and look that one up. He sincerely hoped she didn't.
"Quick thinking," Deandra approved. "Perhaps Ravenclaw wouldn't have been such a bad idea."
Draco mentally rolled his eyes at the spirit, as he carefully helped Hermione off of the floor.
She dusted off her robes and took out her wand to levitate Harry so they could safely leave.
As they made their way through the wall of flames again, Draco again acted as if he was struggling to keep it up, even if he'd so easily protected her just fifteen minutes earlier when Quirrellmort attack. Once they neared the chess board, he could see McGonagall, Snape, Vector, Sprout, and Flitwick running at them from across the room, wands in hand.
Hermione had been awfully quiet the whole way back, but when they were finally safe and sound in the Hospital Wing, confined to their hospital beds behind a privacy wall, she suddenly whispered out loud: "Is it also the family magic that makes me feel what you feel sometimes?"
Was this a bad time to act as if he was asleep? How the fuck was he going to get out of this one?