- Malfoy Manor, 31st of December 1995 –
Hermione bit her lip, unsure if she should wake Draco up. He'd been having trouble sleeping for the past few weeks and she'd felt a sense of relief when Dobby told her earlier that afternoon that the Lord of the Manor was currently residing in his bedroom, getting some well-deserved rest before the New Year's Eve Party his mother was throwing.
Clutching the book she'd found in the Black library to her chest, she sighed deeply and knocked gently. When Draco didn't respond, she carefully opened the door to find him fast asleep, his limbs spread out all over his bed.
She smiled at the sight of him and closed the door quietly, making her way over to him. He stirred when she sat down beside him and put the book on his nightstand, but he would not wake up. A stark difference to the vigilance he'd been showing ever since they came home from Hogwarts. He really needed sleep if he didn't even notice her approach.
Her fingers brushed the hair on his forehead lightly. "Draco," she whispered. "We should be getting ready for tonight."
Something between a grumble of disagreement and a defiant mumble escaped his lips as he reached for her, pulling her down next to him. Hermione giggled as he cradled her in his arms, pulling her head close to his chest. "Let's just stay here. Who cares about a party when we could sleep."
Crawling up and kissing his cheek, she told him, "Fifteen minutes. Then we really should get ready. Besides, you wouldn't want Harry to find me in your room, would you?"
"I don't care what that wanker thinks." Draco yawned. "Beat me and Blaise at quidditch yesterday and he was gloating about it too."
"Sounds like someone else I know," Hermione lovingly scolded him, sitting up straight again, her back against his headboard. Draco snuck an arm around her waist and sighed happily before dozing off again.
Hermione picked up the book she'd brought with her. A piece of parchment she'd been taking notes on was sticking out of the top like a bookmark. She'd finally caught onto the trail of the elder wand again after having found out that Barnabas Deverill was the last owner in the eighteenth century, thanks to some more back and forth with Bathilda Bagshot.
She didn't find the information in a place she would suspect, however. Apparently, Sirius' grandfather, Arcturus Black, had kept a list of powerful wizards and witches in wizarding Britain and Hermione had stumbled upon it out of curiosity two days earlier in the Black library while she was babysitting Polarys and Castor since Amelia had to go for a last round of check-ups at St Mungo's. It came as no surprise to Hermione that the elder Black had been greedy for power and was keeping track of his competition, like many of the old pure-blooded families. The list the man had composed held both prospective allies, as well as possible adversaries. He'd neatly written down all of these individuals steeped in power since the early 1920s. What had surprised Hermione was the peculiar location in the book of two individuals she knew rather well. Gellert Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore had gotten two pages each, right after one another. As if they could be associated together.
"I can hear you thinking, love," Draco mumbled, taking Hermione out of her musings. She'd been nibbling on the back of her quill, trying to take notes, but had instead let her thoughts wander.
"Do all of you Blacks and Malfoys keep a list of potential allies and enemies?" she asked him, running her fingers through his hair absentmindedly with her other hand.
Draco snorted. "Mione. Of course, we do. What do you think I've been doing for the past few years, finding allies in the Wizengamot? Why do you think I keep an eye out for some of our fellow Slytherins? Where there is power, there is greed. And where there is greed, there is trouble. I'd rather find it before it finds us."
She studied him as he sat up straight, wiping the sleep out of his eyes. He frowned when he noticed the notes she'd been taking.
"Dumbledore and Grindelwald… Merlin. How could I have forgotten?!"
Hermione's eyes widened. Forgotten? That meant that Draco knew something from the first timeline. Her intuition had been right after all. "You mean, you know why Arcturus Black wrote them down right after one another two whole decades before they were known as opponents in the War? He couldn't have known that Dumbledore would kill-"
Draco shook his head. "Dumbledore never killed Grindelwald. He's a prisoner in Nurmengard. Moldypants paid him a little visit in the first timeline. None of the death eaters knew why. One maniac, talking to another, perhaps? Sharing some secrets about dark magic? All I know, thanks to my boasting aunt, was that after his visit, Grindelwald was dead. And Voldemort, he had a new-"
She could see the realisation and excitement in his eyes as he scrambled out of bed, reaching for a tome on his bookshelf. "Of course! They were lovers! And Dumbledore was the one who had Harry's invisibility cloak-"
"Back up," Hermione stopped him, putting her hand on his chest when he came back to her. "You're telling me that Grindelwald and Dumbledore used to be lovers and from what I gather, they were after the Deathly Hallows, correct?"
The blond nodded seriously. "According to Skeeter, they were."
Hermione gave him an incredulous look. "Skeeter? Is that your source?"
"I know, I know," Draco sighed. "Don't trust that sorry excuse for a journalist. But she had her sources, and it all seemed to fit so perfectly. I never connected the dots. When Voldemort returned he had a new wand, much older than the one he'd been using before. We all assumed it had been custom-made at Knockturn Alley, but what if it was the Elder Wand, Mione?"
She could feel the excitement seeping out of him and was glad that he seemed to finally have started forgiving himself for what had happened with Sophie. Hermione knew Draco was terrified of turning to the dark again because of the prophecy concerning him. He had shared it with her just a few nights earlier and poured out all of his fears and frustrations to her. All she had to do, was assure him she would pull him back to the light whenever needed.
Draco handed her the tome pertaining to the global wizarding war of the 1920s-1945 he'd picked from his shelves. Hermione couldn't help but grin. Her boyfriend was as studious and as much of a history buff as she was.
Both of them scoured all the pictures of Grindelwald until Draco suddenly smacked his finger on the book, making the moving picture of the dark wizard beneath it angrily wave his wand at him. "That's it," Draco whispered in awe. "That's the wand Voldemort had with him."
Hermione cast a spell and made a copy of the picture, trying to zoom in as close as possible as she could to the wand.
"Do you think if we take Harry to Nuremberg, then-"
Her hands started trembling when she studied the picture more closely. Gripping it tightly, her mind raced as she realised she'd seen this wand before. Draco was always scheming and planning ahead, but he did not pay attention to every single detail like she was prone to do. The wand was rather long and had an unusual design, with holes appearing throughout the whole wand, making it lighter, but not necessarily less powerful. There was only one wizard who had flaunted this wand every single day for the past five and a half years.
"Dumbledore has the wand," she whispered, stopping Draco in his tracks.
"The Headmaster?" He blinked at her, took the picture from her hands and nearly put his nose to it. "Merlin! You're right, love, that's the same wand! Voldemort must have gotten it from his tomb then, rather than from Grindelwald."
"So Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald during the war, and took the hallow from him," Hermione mused, resting her head against the headboard. "I always assumed one had to kill to win the wand's allegiance, considering how many deaths I've found during my research. But it is as easy as disarming the current holder? That seems-"
Draco's laughter rang around the whole bedroom. "You have got to be kidding me."
"What?" Hermione studied him curiously, uncertain what was so funny.
"I disarmed the Headmaster once, right before he died."
The witch and wizard looked at one another.
"You're joking." Hermione frowned.
The blond shook his head and smirked. "I'm afraid I'm not, love."
"You had the elder wand's allegiance and you… Didn't know it ?"
Draco nodded.
"Neither did Voldemort?"
Draco nodded again.
"So, the most powerful wand in existence was bound to a teenage boy and Voldemort, supposedly one of the most powerful wizards alive, just…" Hermione waved her hands around awkwardly in frustration. "Didn't realise ?"
"Perhaps he's not as all-knowing and powerful as he thinks," Draco winked, a grin on his face. "That actually makes me feel a bit better. Knowing that our opponent isn't half as smart as he thinks. How could he not realise the wand he was holding in his hands, didn't work as intended?"
Hermione pursed her lips. Magic was all about intent. The stronger one's emotions, the stronger the magic could be. But there was power in truly understanding magic. To feel it flow beneath one's skin. Voldemort was a terrifyingly powerful wizard, that much was true. He probably had no issues with casting silently or wandlessly. But perhaps, he needed the elder wand because he lacked intent. He lacked feelings.
"Voldemort isn't human. Not like us at least," she concluded. "If he is incapable of feeling, that must mean he isn't attuned to his own magic like we are."
"Are you saying that 'the power he knows not' isn't necessarily the power of the Deathly Hallows?" Draco wondered, his expression turning serious. "That perhaps, all Harry needs is…"
"Feelings. Emotions. Love." Hermione smiled following her boyfriend's train of thought. "It might be a bit of both. Harry is more in tune with his magic than Voldemort ever will be. Harry is loved by his friends and family. Any one of us would come to his aid. All Voldemort does is inspire fear in his followers. Even those who are loyal, do not love him."
"Do not discount my crazy Aunt," Draco mumbled, his gaze suddenly far away. As if he was remembering just how deep the loyalty of his aunt to the Dark Lord ran.
Hermione put her hand on Draco's cheek, making him face her. "Harry is powerful. Harry is loved. Harry could become the Master of Death. Who cares what power the prophecy refers to?"
"You're right. It doesn't matter." Draco leant his forehead to hers and kissed her softly.
- Malfoy Manor, that same evening -
As Draco had predicted, the dining room at Malfoy Manor was at least twice its size, considering all of the silver trio's friends and families were attending the party Narcissa had thrown. Dinner had been delicious, as was to be expected, and Hermione and Draco had found themselves cornered on the dancefloor by the Weasley twins. Apparently, the boys were looking for some eager investors for the joke shop they were planning on opening after they graduated from Hogwarts.
She'd studied her boyfriend while he listened to the twins' proposal. To anyone else, it would have looked as if he seemed deadly serious. But she knew him well enough. He was amused that they'd come to him. And something told her, that he knew that whatever plan they had, would actually work out. One glance and a quirked eyebrow at Deandra across the room had her suspicions confirmed.
"Yes, little one," the spirit spoke in her mind. "The Weasley twins' venture becomes a success."
"I will give you twenty-thousand galleons for a ten percent stake in your business if you promise to also use those brains of yours to come up with some useful and creative trinkets we can use against Voldemort and his cronies when it comes to the war," Draco stated, making Hermione smirk. "I've heard about your Basic Blaze Box. What about making it less basic, and more booming ?"
"Twenty-thousand galleons? " the twins asked in unison. "Are you sure, Malfoy? If you do that, we will do way more than make a Booming Blaze Box. We'll invent anything you bloody want."
"And I will pay your rent at Diagon Alley for the first year," Hermione added. "But only if you promise that some of mine and Daphne's more intricate potions might make it onto your shelves. We'll produce it, and you get fifty percent of the earnings."
"I thought you were aiming for Minister for Magic, Lady Dagworth-Granger," Draco teased his girlfriend as the Weasley twins were excitedly pulling parchments out of their pockets, showing some of their original ideas and business plans to the both of them. "But now it sounds like you also intend to become an investor or maybe even a businesswoman."
Hermione leaned her shoulder into his arm to ease the magical connection between them, Draco still having difficulty controlling his newfound abilities and lowering his strengthened anti-magic protection his animagus form had given him. She wondered if he blocked magic unconsciously and if so, if any other traits he and she and Harry had thanks to their animagus forms could be cultivated and trained to give them an even bigger advantage against Voldemort.
"It's not wise to put all of my eggs in one basket, Lord Malfoy," she winked at him before giving Fred and George her undivided attention once again.
"What's got you lot all excited?" Ron joined the four of them and nodded to the two Slytherins in greeting, eyeing the parchments his brothers were holding curiously. "You won the lottery without telling me?"
"Ronniekins," Fred exclaimed, swinging his arm over his little brother's shoulder, squeezing the second youngest Weasley. "We were just planning our futures with Lord and Heiress Malfoy. Seems like they are interested in investing their galleons into your brothers' business."
Ron chuckled and swung back the drink he was holding. "No surprise there. These two have been scheming for as long as I know them. Honestly, if I didn't know any better I would think that you and George should have been snakes considering all the mischief you like to spread."
The twins gave each other a knowing look, making Ron's eyes widen in horror. Hermione hid her smile behind her hand.
"Oh come on, we Slytherins aren't that bad," Hermione answered, nudging Ron in the side with her elbow, making the Gryffindor laugh.
She would never forget what she'd seen in Draco's mind. That memory hidden behind the Drawing Room door did not just hold his biggest fear. It also held hope, at least to her. Ron Weasley had been her best friend, once upon a time. She had been trying to put in more effort to get to know the Gryffindor, and to her surprise, he was actually fun to be around now that he'd finally done some growing up.
"At least you have a plan," Ron sighed, glancing from his brothers to Hermione and Draco, and back again. "After what happened to Dad, I feel like we're just sitting ducks. We're not learning to protect ourselves. Bloody hell, if I didn't know any better I would think Umbridge wants us to be a bunch of idiots that can't protect ourselves against Voldemort. Tonks told me the toad is changing Professor Lupin's whole curriculum and is claiming we can't use our wands in D.A.D.A. when we get back!"
Hermione shook her head sadly. "Remus told us last week that he might be losing his position altogether since Umbridge is convinced he is a werewolf, even if she has no proof."
"How will we learn to protect ourselves? Those we love?" Ron grumbled, his eyes gazing at the party behind them, his eyes softening as he laid his eyes on his mother and his little sister dancing joyfully together.
Hermione could nearly feel the worry seeping out of him. The frustration that he might be incapable of protecting them when it truly mattered. "Perhaps, we could form a study group of our own?" Hermione mused. "Draco, Harry, Cedric, and I have been training all of last year to prepare for the Tournament. We could do it again, as long as Umbridge doesn't find out about it considering she's been banning all sorts of study groups."
"No offence, Hermione, but who would teach us?" George questioned her. "I know that you're all very talented, but knowing how to cast a spell is entirely different than teaching someone else how to do it."
"Harry has been a wonderful teacher when it comes to Defence," Hermione stated confidently, the plan forming clearly in her head. "Draco is excellent at transfiguration and runes, while I tend to use charms and potions when coming up with battle tactics. Besides, Draco has been teaching me to apparate for the past few weeks since I will be of age soon, and I've already made it to London and back- Why are you all looking at me like that?" Hermione crossed her arms at the three Weasleys. Their eyes were nearly bulging out.
"Draco taught you to apparate?" Ron whispered conspiratorially, checking over his shoulder so his mother couldn't hear the Slytherins had done something illegal. "He's fifteen! How the bloody hell-"
"And why are you even learning it? You're not even seventeen yet, Hermione, surely-" George continued.
"Wait till you tell them we know more N.E.W.T. spells than they do," Harry chuckled behind his two best friends, as he and his girlfriend approached the group. His arm was wrapped around Ginny's waist and the Gryffindor seemed to be amused at her brothers' apparent surprise.
"You have got to teach us!" the three Weasleys yelled in unison at the silver trio, excitement and desperation in their voices. Ron rubbed the back of his head. "I mean. If you want to, of course. We just want to be able to protect our families and friends."
Harry shrugged and glanced at his two best friends. "I'm up for it if you two are. After all, I was planning to have you teach me some dark magic, Draco. I need to be prepared in case one of Voldemort's cronies throws one at me."
Draco sighed next to Hermione. She could feel his fingers brush hers, his magic letting her in. She followed his train of thought. Apparently, this was not the first time they had come up with a group to learn to protect themselves, even if Draco had not been a part of it in the original timeline.
Her boyfriend seemed doubtful. It was clear to her that he did not want Dumbledore's Army to become a thing again. He was terrified of where they could be headed. Umbridge would find them, and they would all end up at the ministry before the year was over. But there was also resolve and determination lingering in his thoughts. He felt he had a responsibility to make sure that as many people as possible survived the war. If he decided against helping them train, would their blood be on his hands?
Hermione scowled at him. "It won't be. But I understand where you're coming from. It would set my mind at ease if everyone learnt to protect themselves. Despite everything, we can never be certain of what the future holds. What would happen if they didn't know how to protect themselves this time around? They might not make it out alive."
"Fine," Draco finally sighed, shaking his head when he noticed Harry grinning. "But we need to make sure that Umbridge can't find out about it, and that no one who joins can go and tattle to her." He shuddered minutely in remembrance of what Umbridge had done to Sophie.
"I will take care of that," Hermione exclaimed happily. "In fact, I already have a name ready." The acronym had come to her while she listened to Draco's thoughts. She would never call it Dumbledore's Army again. Not when there was another wizard who could set a perfect example. "Let's call it MERLIN."
"You aiming for an order of Merlin for all of our troubles when this is over?" Ron joked.
"Perhaps. However, the Magical Enlistment Resistance League and Intelligence Network, or MERLIN, had a nice ring to it as well."
"I'm surprised you didn't pick MORGANA," Draco chuckled beside her.
"Oh, it did cross my mind. But I realised the acronym lent itself too well to be made fun of." She looked at the twins sternly. "Isn't that right, boys?"
George grinned, put his hand on his chest and sighed in mock disappointment. "Lady Dagworth-Granger. We could have been MORGANA! The Meeting of Rowdy Gryffindors And Naughty Assholes," the redhead stated proudly, making everyone laugh.