! The first half of this chapter will be written from Draco's perspective, while the second half will be written from Hermione's perspective. I will add a small notice of this before each part by writing either DRACO or HERMIONE !
DRACO
- Malfoy Manor, 18th of July 1992 –
He'd been dreaming of watching the stars, and thick curls tickling his face as he leant down to kiss his wife's cheek. However, someone was screaming at him, waking him up from his pleasant dream. He grunted, not wanting to wake up, even as the voice in his mind became more and more urgent.
"Draco. Wake up! NOW!" Deandra's voice thundered in his mind, finally waking the blond wizard up.
He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, still confused as to what was happening, and grabbed his wand from the nightstand.
Deandra's silvery corporeal form was standing next to his bed, her hands on his shoulders as she'd been trying to shake him awake. Whenever they were alone in a room at the Manor, the spirit had taken to using her human form. She explained to Draco that she'd used to go around the Manor in this way, especially the first six hundred years or so, making her more of a family member, rather than just an ancient spiritual entity, to the Malfoy heirs.
She hadn't been moving around the Manor as much when Draco's great-grandfather had been Lord Malfoy. The man had been sick almost all his life and she'd guarded him in his room while she was in human form, trying to soothe his aches and pains to the best of her ability.
Deandra had often blamed herself for not making the old Lord spend more time with his son, Abraxas Malfoy. She too, was to blame, however. She should have shown herself more to him so he would know she was real, instead of thinking she'd just been a fidget of his imagination. Perhaps then Abraxas, and in turn Lucius, would not have turned out the way they did. Perhaps, she could've guided them to a different destiny. Magic was funny like that.
Sadly, as the spirit of the Manor, her first priorities always lay with the Lord and Mistress of the manor. If they did not spend a lot of time with their heirs, then neither did she. That was how the bond had worked for nearly a thousand years.
Her power had always come from the connection she'd had with her family, both the spirit and the Lords strengthening each other. When Abraxas had told his son Lucius that she was nothing more than a ghost story, her power had waned, and she'd become stuck within the walls of the manor, waiting for the rightful heir to take their place once more.
As soon as magic itself had realised that Draco was nothing like his father, her chains had been undone and her power unleashed.
She and Draco had talked a bit about her background, but sometimes the young blond wizard was scared to ask too many questions. He assumed that she didn't like to talk about a time before joining the Malfoys, at least not yet.
"Your father came back early," Deandra nearly growled as she conjured him a silver robe to put over his pyjamas. "He's brought an object filled with vile magic with him from Bulgaria. Don't worry, it's not a Horcrux, it doesn't have the same signature," she explained as Draco hurriedly put on his robe. "But I overheard him talking with Karkaroff on the floo. They are trying to awaken something in Hogwarts with it, something to help Voldemort regain-"
"The Basilisk," Draco provided. "Please don't tell me we have to go around Hogwarts carrying mirrors again," he sighed in frustration as he walked to his bedroom door, Deandra leading him forward.
"Harry is Lord Slytherin now," the spirit said as Draco poked his head out into the hallway, making sure the coast was clear before they headed out. "He could command the Basilisk and order it to go back to its lair in the Chamber, but how would we ever explain to him that-"
"Draco?"
Both Draco and Deandra froze as they saw Hermione open the door to her bedroom, her hair as big as a lion's mane. Fuck. He swore no one was there. Why did she have to wake up now?
A gasp escaped the brunette witch's lips as she took in Deandra's tall frame, her slight silver hue lighting up the hallway. If they hadn't been so stressed, or so tired, they would've remembered that Deandra should've left her corporeal form behind as soon as they left his room. She should have joined him in his mind instead. Alas, they were in a hurry – and Draco was still sleepy - and not really expecting anyone to be up this late. He was definitely awake now, however.
Before Draco could even come up with an explanation for Hermione, Deandra's head snapped towards the stairways, her neck nearly cracking.
"Your mother is up. She's been notified of Lucius' arrival. I will keep an eye on her. Get Harry and Hermione to leave before your father notices them." She said as she put her hand on his shoulder and disappeared in a silver whirl of magic. In his mind, she finished with: "Besides, I will not tolerate children to be this close to that foul magic Lucius has brought with him."
Hermione was still staring at Draco in disbelief.
"Who was that?" Hermione asked, clearly confused as Draco tried to push her backwards into her room, closing the door behind them so none of the elves would notice they were up. Or even worse, his father.
How the fuck was he going to explain this? Hermione had her arms crossed, a frown on her face. She was clearly unhappy that she had been left out of the loop.
"What I am about to tell you," he began, "should not be repeated to anyone else. Not to Harry. Not to your parents. Not to any elf or member of the Malfoy family. Not to anyone but me," he stated, holding his hands onto her shoulders, looking fiercely into her eyes.
Understanding the gravity of the situation, she nodded and uncrossed her arms. "Can you please just tell me what is going on?"
"You've read about the leylines that Hogwarts was built upon?" he asked her, knowing she'd read Hogwarts a History from cover to cover at least ten times during the past year.
She nodded impatiently, urging him to get on.
"And the spirits connected to them?" he inquired.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I can read, Draco. Everyone knows that the Sorting Hat is a Spirit connected to Hogwarts' Leylines."
He chuckled at her impatience. "Not everyone knows that, Mione, Malfoy Manor was also built on a leyline, the spirit of which you just saw. Deandra has been with our family since Armand got her blessing to establish his House here and to connect to her magic to keep the family safe and strong. She has been protecting the Malfoy family and its descendants ever since."
His best friend blinked at him. "Deandra?" she whispered, almost as if in awe. "The divine defender of mankind is the Malfoy family's Guardian?! Blimey! That's incredible!"
Now it was Draco's turn to be confused. He shook his head. "Wait what? You know about her?"
"Of course I do," Hermione scoffed, raising her chin at him. "Unlike wizards, muggles begin their schooling between the ages of five and seven. I've always been interested in Greek mythology and you know how much I like to read and absorb stories and languages. Deandra, as she was known in ancient Greece, was seen as a protector. I just didn't expect her to be real. To be magical even. She's a myth."
"Pretty sure I'm not just a myth," Deandra suddenly answered, her laughter ringing in the room before she appeared in an armchair in the corner of the guestroom Hermione was staying at. "Excuse my previous behaviour, Hermione. I had to go and check on Draco's mother after his idiot of a father brought home a dark artefact. Luckily, Lady Malfoy is quite able to take care of herself and is winning the shouting match downstairs." Her smile matched one that Draco had seen only once or twice on his mother. It seemed things were well in hand for the moment.
Deandra got up from the armchair, her blue-green robes whirling around her as she crouched down in front of Hermione, extending her hand. "Pleased to meet you, Miss Dagworth-Granger."
Hermione just stared at the spirit, faintly reminding Draco of the look Harry's fans got in their eyes when they first met the Boy Who Lived.
The curly-haired witch finally absentmindedly put out her hand to shake the spirit's. "Are you the actual Deandra?" she whispered in disbelief, making both Draco and Deandra chuckle.
"The one and only," the spirit whispered back, winking. "I am glad someone here has some more knowledge about my past. Draco here had no clue that I originally came from Greece and travelled Europe before eventually emigrating to the British Isles during the 5th century, after the Battle of the Catalaunian Plains."
Draco crossed his arms this time. "You never told me," he accused her. "I just thought you didn't want to talk about it!"
"You never asked, little dragon." Deandra quipped back, raising her eyebrow at him, daring him to disagree.
Hermione started giggling, trying to hide her laughter behind the palm of her hand. "Little dragon? Oh Merlin, if I tell Harry-"
"Why did you have to tell her my nickname?" Draco sighed, pinching his nose in frustration like he'd learned from his godfather.
"Well, Hermione is my favourite now. At least she knew who she was talking to." The spirit joked, nudging Hermione with her elbow to show the beginning of their companionship.
Deandra's smile suddenly disappeared, and she stood up straight, her head tilted as if she was listening intently to something neither Draco or Hermione could hear.
"Lucius suspects you and your mother defied him and invited Harry and Hermione over," she said. "He's on his way here."
She looked down at Hermione. "I would like my existence to be kept secret, especially from the likes of Lucius. Do you swear you will not speak of me to anyone other than Draco? If you refuse, I will sadly have to obliviate you, little one."
"My lips are sealed, Deandra," Hermione smiled, making a motion of locking her mouth and throwing away the key. "But only if you promise to visit me from time to time and tell me the actual stories of all those myths I've read about."
The spirit chuckled and shook her head at her, saying her cunning was showing.
"Get home safe," she said, putting her hand on Hermione's cheek before disappearing again, coating the room in darkness once more.
"Call on Dobby and tell him to take Hermione and Harry to Grimmauld, Draco. Hermione, you tell Harry that Lucius suddenly came home. He will understand." The two children heard in their head.
Hermione blinked rapidly. "Wicked. Can you always hear her so easily in your mind, Draco?"
"Pretty much," Draco shrugged, before calling Dobby and telling him to apparate both Hermione and Harry to Grimmauld place, making sure their clothes and other things would also be moved.
Tipsy had popped up as well, on Narcissa's orders, and said that she would make sure the guestrooms looked immaculate again.
With a snap of Dobby's fingers, Hermione's overnight bag was packed, the bed was made, and the house elf extended his hand to her.
"Be safe," she mouthed to Draco, right before Dobby whisked the two of them away.
Draco snuck back to his room and only two minutes after he was in bed, his father slightly opened the door to his room, seeing nothing amiss.
"He hid the artefact," Deandra grumbled in frustration right as Lucius left. "You don't suppose he will leave it with Ginny Weasley again?"
Even if that would be extremely dangerous, Draco couldn't help but smirk. "If he does, Harry will be even more angry than he was last time."
No one would touch a hair on the redhead's head if it was up to Harry, that he was sure of.
HERMIONE
- Grimmauld Place, 18th of July 1992 –
As soon as Dobby had apparated Hermione into the kitchen at Grimmauld Place, Sirius and Amelia entered the room, their wands aiming straight at her due to her unexpected arrival. Oops. Perhaps they should have sent a warning before apparating over?
Hermione raised her arms in the air almost as if on instinct, just like she had done as a toddler when her mum had caught her red-handed with her tiny hands in the cookie jar.
Sirius laughed at her and she couldn't help but roll her eyes at the old dog. How did he think she would react when she was on the other side of their wands?
"Calm, down, kitten. You just scared us," he said as he ruffled her hair, calling out for Kreacher.
"Hermione, what's going on?" the head of the D.M.L.E. asked concerned, right as Sirius barked at the elf to put the kettle on and to make some hot chocolate for their guest.
"Draco's father came home sooner than expected," the little witch explained as she pulled out a chair at the kitchen table, frowning at Sirius' treatment of his old house elf. She would really have to give him a lecture on the treatment of house elves, even if Kreacher was particularly rude to anyone not born a pure-blood. Oh well, that were troubles for another day. Right now, she was worried for the safety of her friends. What if Lucius had found Draco in the guest room? Or even worse, what if he'd found Harry?
"I am going to kill that man one day," Amelia sighed in frustration, putting a supportive hand on the younger witch's shoulder. "He is enough of a headache at the Ministry already. I don't need his shenanigans to ruin my sleep schedule as well."
Dobby popped in the kitchen again, saying he'd apparated the "great Harry Potter sir" straight into his bed. Apparently, it had been impossible to wake him up from his slumber, and Dobby thought it would be best to move him without disturbing him.
Hermione chuckled at that. She'd found her best friend sprawled out on one of the common room couches after quidditch training more than once, Draco and Blaise unable to wake him up so they could go and eat dinner. One time, they had even left him there, not bothering to wake him up so he could join them in the Great Hall. Harry had grumbled once he woke up and claimed they could've at least brought him some treacle tart. Ever since, Hermione and Daphne often had to retort to tickling charms to get their raven-haired friend to move even an inch, making him annoyed at them once they'd succeeded, but smiling thankfully when he joined them for dinner after a long day of quidditch practice.
Kreacher shoved a cup of hot chocolate at her, almost making her jump as she'd been lost in thought. The elf grumbled something, making Sirius hiss at him. A foul look later, and the elf popped off again to wherever he went.
She talked to Amelia and Sirius for a while, mentioning that they'd at least had a blast the past two days while hanging out at the Malfoy Manor.
When Sirius joked she'd probably been stuck in the library just like Remus and Lily had always been while visiting Potter Manor during their Hogwarts days, she kicked his shins under the table, making Amelia laugh.
True, the library had been one of the highlights for her. She'd cosied up on a chair for a few hours earlier that morning while Harry and Draco had spent some time practising on the quidditch pitch. Honestly, she was saddened that she had to cut her visit short.
What she didn't tell the two adults sitting across from her, however, was about the most exciting thing she'd experienced. Meeting Deandra. An actual spirit had been living at the Manor and been a trustworthy companion to Draco during the past year. Who would've thought? Honestly, she was a bit miffed at him that he hadn't told her about Deandra. He knew that she could keep a secret. Perhaps it was because she hadn't mastered occlumency yet? If his father would ever break into her mind and see the spirit, he would surely be using her magical power for his own gain. Hermione shivered at that thought.
When Amelia showed her to the guestroom she usually stayed at, waving her wand to make the bed for Hermione, she couldn't help but smile gratefully at the red-haired witch.
"Get some sleep, Hermione," Sirius told her from the doorway. "We will drop you off at home tomorrow after breakfast. It's been a long day."
She nodded at them and thanked them for their hospitality, sorry that she'd interrupted their evening.
"It's not your fault, kitten," Sirius assured her as he was closing the door. "Just don't stay up too late writing to lover boy." He winked at her, nodding his head in the direction of the desk where Dobby had neatly placed her things.
She whipped her head around and could see the silver diary that she and Draco used to write each other messages lighting up slightly, indicating that he'd written a message to her. Good, he was safe.
"He's not my lover boy." She spat back at Sirius, annoyed at his teasing.
"Whatever you say," he said. "But trust me, I was a teenager once, and when a witch looked at me the way you look at him, it wasn't just because they wanted to be friends, they wanted to- MERLIN, AMELIA!"
Forgetting her annoyance, Hermione giggled as she could see Sirius' left ear grow almost five times the size, Amelia's finger pinching it and pulling him away from the door.
"Leave the girl alone, you twat," his fiancé scolded him, as she waved her wand and closed the door, whispering a goodnight to Hermione.
The Slytherin walked over to the desk and took the diary and her pen with her to cuddle up in the bed. When she opened it and saw he had signed it with Love, Draco she blushed, remembering Sirius' words. She shook her head angrily, telling herself she was being ridiculous and read what he'd written.
I hope you and Harry are safe, Mione. Father doesn't suspect a thing. He didn't even catch me running back to bed. I'm sorry your visit to the Manor had to end like this. Mother will whip him into shape so you and Harry can visit again soon, if you'd still like to visit, of course. Anyway, let me know when you've arrived at Grimmauld. Love, Draco
She let out a sigh of relief and penned back her response.
Dobby mentioned that Harry was sleeping like a rock again, so imagine the surprise he will be in when he wakes up in the morning. I'm glad your father didn't find out, at least it will save you a few days of his usual anger. I wish he would be nicer to you, but I guess not every parent can be perfect.
P.S. I would love to come back to the Manor. Who else would finally give all those books in the library the attention they truly deserve?
She contemplated how she should sign her message, twiddling the pen between her fingers. Why had Sirius' comment gotten to her so much? She wasn't actually having a crush on her best friend, was she? No, that was just ridiculous. She worriedly bit her bottom lip, the adrenaline of nearly being discovered still simmering beneath the surface. In addition, she still couldn't get over the fact that she had told him that she recognized his bedroom. Maybe she was crazy, because that was the first time she had seen it, right?
Before she could finish her answer properly, Draco had already written another message, her worrying about her signature all for naught.
Not to worry, I will tell the books in the library all about how much you love them when I go and find some light reading in the morning. Things will be boring now that you and Harry are gone again. I'm not sure my father will let me visit you guys anytime soon.
Anyhow, Deandra said she will be coming over and "read you a bedtime story", whatever that means. She's never done that for me, so you should feel privileged, Miss Dagworth-Granger.
I'll talk to you tomorrow. Tell Hibernator Harry that he's missed all the excitement, and that I will be expecting a rematch at the Burrow sometime in August. Goodnight, Mione.
She snorted when she read his joke about Harry being in hibernation and wrote a quick goodnight back, before settling into bed again, closing her eyes peacefully.
"How are you feeling, little one?" the Spirit of Malfoy Manor asked as she suddenly appeared and sat down on the bed next to Hermione, smiling at her.
"Deandra!" The witch yelped in surprise, covering her mouth as soon the words had left her mouth. Holy cow, someone would probably have heard that! What would they do if they saw Deandra here? Oh no, Sirius would definitely have a field day with that.
"I'm sorry for surprising you, I thought Draco mentioned I was coming," she said as she tilted her head, her long silver hair falling down over her shoulder. "And don't worry about the noise, Hermione. I already had the room silenced before I showed my presence. I didn't want Lord Black to come sniffing for any intruders in his home," the spirit winked.
Hermione chuckled at her description of Sirius, imagining him coming in his animagus form, sniffing the floor with his snout.
Deandra smiled at her. "I'm sure you have many questions. Fire away."
She didn't want to admit it, but Hermione was still as awestruck as she'd been when Draco first introduced the spirit to her earlier that night. "Where to begin?" She mused as she sat up straight, tucking her knees close to her chest.
Hermione could feel Deandra's magic flow over her as the spirit tucked her blanket around her more tightly, protecting her from the cold.
"You really are quite protective," Hermione observed. "Is that where you got your name from?"
"Partially," she admitted. "But do not mistake my protectiveness for you with what I was born to do. The reason that I feel protective of you is because you are one of Armand's descendants, little one. My magic recognizes yours, as I recognize all who belong to House Malfoy. You are my family as much as Draco is, even if he is the actual heir to the Malfoy line," she answered.
The brunette thought about that for a second. It had made sense that Deandra was attuned to her. Hermione was quite attuned to Draco's magic herself, and he'd explained to her it was because they were family through the adopted bloodline. When he'd explained it to her, it all made sense. Yet, somehow, she felt there was something more to it. Ever since they'd met at Flourish and Blotts, something had clicked within her. She wasn't sure if it was some sort of understanding between their magic, the two lines recognizing each other, or if it was something else entirely.
"Did you have a family before the Malfoys?" Hermione finally asked. "Before you moved to Britain?"
"My purpose was to serve mankind itself, not just one family," the spirit answered, leaning back against the bedframe next to Hermione. It seemed her thoughts were somewhere far away. "You recognised me for what I was almost immediately. I've always been known as the defender of man. When I came into existence, I was bound to protect those who were innocent. Those who were just and fought for what was right."
Hermione was confused at that. If magic had called upon her to protect mankind, then why had she ended up with the Malfoys? No offence to Draco, or even the ancestors she didn't know, but Lucius Malfoy wasn't exactly the epitome of doing the right thing… Of acting like a righteous git, sure.
"Armand represented the values that I was born to serve," the spirit answered sadly, obviously reading Hermione's thoughts.
The sadness in her voice almost made Hermione's heart ache. "You miss him," Hermione stated. "Even after all these years."
"I do," the Spirit admitted. "But he's still with me, as are all other Malfoy descendants which I've willingly served in the past. Their knowledge, thoughts, and memories became my own when they passed through the veil. Both they and I have guided the newer generations to greatness, even if you might have noticed we haven't succeeded as well with the previous ones."
"You mean Lucius?" the witch asked, frustrated, just thinking about Draco's father.
The spirit nodded. "Draco freed me from the constraints of the Manor a little over a year ago now. My magic recognized that he would be a true heir who would fight for what was right. I would do anything to protect him and those he loves. It's why he's asked you to not tell anyone about me. He's the first one to know me in more than half a century and he does not want to lose that advantage if he, or you and Harry, would ever be threatened."
Hermione stared at Deandra in shock. Had she really just said that she would protect a bunch of outsiders, just because they were Draco's friends?
"Don't call yourself an outsider," Deandra scolded her with a frown upon her ethereal face, letting Hermione know that she could easily read her thoughts if she so desired. "You're Celeste Malfoy's only heir. You will always be part of our family, no matter if you wish to officially join it or not."
What was that supposed to mean? There was no way she could ever officially join the Malfoy family and take the name in Britain, like Director Ragnok had suggested. Lucius would never allow it.
Deandra smiled at her knowingly, raising an eyebrow at her thoughts inquisitively, but not actively answering to her thoughts.
It irked Hermione that the Spirit was hiding something from her, and somewhere in the back of her mind she felt that she should know what that suspicious smile had meant.
"You should go to sleep, little one," Deandra said as she looked out of the window. "It's getting late, and growing witches like yourself need their rest."
Hermione nearly huffed at that. She was nearly thirteen, thank you very much.
Deandra chuckled at her teenage antics and started tucking her in, her magic unconsciously soothing Hermione.
"You haven't told me your bedtime story yet." The witch yawned as he closed her eyes blissfully, nearly letting sleep overtake her.
"I'll show you instead, little one." Deandra spoke in her mind as soon as sleep took her.
Hermione dreamt of ancient Greece that night. She saw how magic itself had born hundreds and thousands of spirits to assist both wizard- and mankind in their endeavours. Part of her was unsure if this was actually how it had happened or if this was nothing more than a dream after all, her imagination guiding her on an adventure.
Her thoughts that perhaps none of this was real, were quickly forgotten when she saw Deandra's silver ethereal form all geared up in battle armour. She could finally see why she was called Deandra, the protector of man. Throughout her actions, Hermione noticed that the spirit had a sense of justice, and was a strong believer in doing what was right. Sadly, that made her end up fighting in many of mankind's wars, as she always wanted to protect the innocents that were attacked and slaughtered. Hermione couldn't help but cry at the suffering she saw, and notice how Deandra's conviction and vigour suffered throughout the years, more and more innocents perishing, no matter what she did.
The witch could see how all the fighting was tearing the spirit down, and how eventually, she lost the purpose she was born for. Instead, she started mindlessly travelling around the Greek and Roman Empires, meeting many other spirits who had lost their cause, until she arrived at Delphi. Unsure what to do, uncertain if she was still fulfilling magic's will, Deandra had found herself talking to the Oracle of Delphi, Pythia.
Pythia, to Hermione's surprise, was actually an ancient earth-dragon who had the powers of a seer, making her the oracle that was known so well in all the myths she'd devoured as a little girl.
The seer advised Deandra to head north and across the sea to Albion, the place which would later be known as the British Isles. There she would meet someone who would give her the purpose she desired, as well as a family to protect.
When Deandra asked the dragon how she could possibly fulfil her destiny to protect mankind by being bound to only one family, the dragon had smiled and spoken its prophecy.
When time unfolds, behold the call to guard a dragon child of fate's own.
United you will stand, once magic shatters your chains, your fury unleashed by a blood-red stone.
Yet beware the nefarious might, spawned by love untrue, which seeks to erase the children of prophecy.
Should this evil reign, a symphony of destruction and despair will bloom, leading to catastrophe.
To halt the spreading darkness, and aid in its descent,
Your duty will weigh heavy, as the little dragon and his chosen friends, will be yours to defend.
Hermione woke up with a start, her heart almost beating out of her chest as she screamed out for Draco in fear. It couldn't be. A prophecy that old, speaking of a little dragon… Of the children of prophecy. But if Draco was one, then who could possibly be the other-
The door to her bedroom opened, Harry bursting through with Susan in tow, waving his wand in the air at any invisible intruders which might have scared his best friend and caused her to scream.
Seeing there was no actual danger, Susan shaking her head at Harry's heroic antics, he finally looked over at his sister in all but blood.
"Hermione are you alright?" He asked, seeing the tears in her eyes.
She scrambled out of bed, her foot getting caught in the blankets and almost making her trip as she flew into Harry's arms, holding him close to her, scared he would vanish if she dared to let go. Of course. There was only one person in the whole of Britain who'd been hunted by the same evil over and over again. Harry.
It was at that exact moment that Hermione Granger swore to herself that she would do anything and everything in her power to protect her two best friends.
"You won't be alone in protecting them, little one," Deandra whispered in her mind reassuringly, making Hermione hug Harry even tighter.