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Chapter Text

The Hogwarts Express was bursting with energy as the returning and first year students found their niches amongst the compartments. Hermione Granger was sitting with Neville Longbottom, Hannah Abbot, and Padma and Parvati Patil when Neville loudly exclaimed he had lost his toad, Trevor. The fast friends broke from the cart as they went knocking on each section looking for the amphibian in question when she came upon a cart of other first years. Three boys were sitting on one side of the cart while another boy and two girls were sitting across from them.

“Has anyone seen a toad?” Hermione addressed the students.

Before she could continue the question, one of the boys spoke up, “Try looking in a mirror!” The entire compartment laughed at her except for the boy with the platinum blond hair. Trying not to think too much of it, Hermione rolled her eyes and turned away from the rude people. As she was moving on, she felt someone grab her wrist, causing her to turn around.

“Hey, sorry about that. I grew up with Theo. He’s… got an acquired sense of humor. I’m Draco by the way. Draco Malfoy.” Draco let go of her wrist and held out his hand for her to shake.

“Hermione Granger. Pleasure to meet you,” she responded, shaking his hand, grateful that someone had come to apologize for the rude comment. “You don’t need to apologize for someone else’s actions. Besides, I’m no stranger when it comes to bullies.”

“I’m so sorry,” Draco said sincerely.

“It’s fine,” Hermione sighed, attempting to shake off the cruel remarks. “Anyway, I really do need to get back to looking for Trevor. Neville was really worried.”

“Longbottom lost a toad? Do you need any help?” Draco offered flashing Hermione a small smile.  

“Yes. And only if you’re willing,” Hermione smiled back as she pointed to a different compartment on the left side of the aisle. “I was just about to knock on that one.”

Draco gestured for her to continue. She walked up to the open door and knocked on the frame as she leaned in. “Sorry, has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville lost one.”

The two boys in the cart shook their heads when Hermione’s eyes widened. “Are you doing magic? Let’s see then!”

Draco peered behind Hermione to see a redheaded boy with a rat in his lap and his wand out. He had a sneaky suspicion of whose family the boy belonged to, but didn't want to make assumptions as the redhead cleared his throat and waved his wand over the mammal. “Sunshine, daises, butter mellow. Turn this stupid fat rat yellow.”

Draco laughed hysterically at the clearly made-up spell. It had obviously failed by the sound of the rat squeaking after being shocked with magic. The redhead shrugged his shoulders while the boy with glasses and dark messy hair shook his head.

“Are you sure that’s a real spell?” Hermione asked. “Well, it’s not very good, is it?” She was about to turn away when she suddenly recognized the boy with glasses. “Holy Cricket! You’re Harry Potter!”

Hermione walked further into the compartment and sat down across from Harry while Draco leaned against the door frame. “Blimey, if it isn’t the boy-who-lived. Not to be rude but what happened to your um…” Draco questioned as he pointed to the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, sorry, cousin broke them before I got on the train,” Harry explained.

“I’ve been practicing a few simple spells myself. Allow me,” Hermione said as she pointed her wand directly at the bridge of Harry’s nose. “Oculus Repairo.”

The piece of tape vanished from the wire frame causing the redhead and Harry to stare in amazement at the spell. “Nice one, Granger,” Draco complimented, causing Hermione to smile wider at her successful casting.

“I’m Hermione Granger. And you are?” Hermione turned to address the redheaded boy.

“Um… Ron Weasley,” the boy said with his mouth full of sweets. Ah, yes, so his hypothesis was correct and the redhead was part of the Weasley family. Draco didn't know much about them, other than his father despised them and often commented on their lack of wealth. But, Draco tried to take his father's opinions with a grain of salt and not judge another based on the perceptions and expectations of ones family. Merlin knows how many times he wished to escape the own pressures of being a Malfoy. 

“Pleasure,” Hermione replied, unapproving of Ron’s lack of manners. “You two better change into your robes. I suspect we should be arriving soon.”

As Hermione got up, Draco moved back so she could get by and continue the hunt for the toad. He leaned back into the compartment and introduced himself by holding his hand out to Harry first. “I’m Draco Malfoy by the way. It’s nice to meet you both.”

As Harry was shaking Draco’s hand, Ron spoke up. “Malfoy? As in Lucius Malfoy’s son?”

Draco winced at the accusatory tone Ron had used. “Yeah, the same one.”

“I’m not going to shake your hand. You’re the son of a Death Eater!” Ron spat with hate filling his eyes. Harry stared at Ron, shocked by the amount of loathing echoed in the boy’s tone while Hermione looked between Ron and Draco in confusion by the accusation.

Draco’s smile fell from his face as he fixed Ron with a hard stare. So that's how it was going to be? Fine. Draco could match that energy easily. “Whatever you say, weasel. In the future, I would prefer you judge me by my actions alone and not the mistakes of my family.”

Without looking back to see the stunned looks on the boys' faces, Draco stormed out of the compartment and down the hallway, Hermione trailing after him she called out, “What did Ron mean about your father, Draco?”

He stopped, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. Draco did a quarter turn to face Hermione as he spoke softly. “My father supported You-Know-Who. He’s… a dangerous man with these crazy radical ideas about wizard blood purity and thinks that Mudbloods shouldn’t be allowed to learn. I don’t know the extent of his support in the first wizard war, but there were some… not very flattering rumors.”

“You really shouldn’t say that term,” Hermione scolded with a stern look on her face.

“Why?” Draco asked confused.

“It’s derogatory and hurtful. Plus, it's not politically correct,” Hermione explained, her face softening only slightly at Draco's genuine confusion.

“What’s the correct way then? That's the way I learned growing up to refer to someone who was not from a magical family."

“You could just say muggleborn. That’s not offensive. To be honest, I don’t really know the politically correct term, but that’s what Neville told me is often used,” Hermione stated. "I didn't even know blood prejudice existed in the Wizarding World until I went shopping in Diagon Alley and some old wizard hissed it at me and my parents under his breath. It wasn't until I asked Neville about it this morning that he told me what it meant." 

“You’re a mud-muggleborn?” Draco asked, even more intrigued by the witch. Hermione nodded.

Draco playfully smirked at Hermione and said, “I had no idea. You’re spell work back there was actually quite brilliant for someone who didn’t grow up in the magical world. I dare say you and I are going to be competing for the top spot in our year.”

“I assure you, Draco Malfoy, I do not yield when it comes to my grades,” Hermione smiled back. She mimicked the playful tone Draco adopted. 

“I suspect not,” Draco laughed before uncrossing his arms and looked directly in Hermione’s eyes, “Hermione… Thank you for listening to my story and…not judging me.”

She nodded and placed a hand on his forearm reassuringly. As the two locked eyes, Draco smiled as he began to feel something that he simply could not describe. Security? Acceptance? Friendship? It was the first time someone in his life truly heard and listened to him. Unfortunately, the moment between the pair did not last long as they were interrupted by Neville Longbottom calling out that he had found his toad and that the train would be arriving at the station soon.

_____________________

The boat ride across the lake was an experience that neither Hermione, Draco, Harry, nor Ron would forget as they glided across the rippling loch towards the enchanted castle. It was almost overstimulating to watch the castle come into view and march though the ancient staircase. Before long, all the first years were standing outside the Great Hall and were greeted by a powerful witch gracefully dressed in elegant green robes.

“Welcome to Hogwarts. I am Professor McGonagall. In just a moment, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates, but before you can take your seats you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Now while you’re here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you points. Any rule breaking and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the house cup.”

“Trevor!” Neville Longbottom suddenly shouted as he lunged forward to grab his toad that had, once again, escaped. Some of the class giggled by the interruption while Neville quickly collected his pet. He looked up sheepishly at McGonagall’s stern face before apologizing and turning back to his spot in the crowd.

“The sorting ceremony will begin momentarily,” McGonagall said.

She turned and left to see if the hall was ready for the first years, when Theodore Nott spoke up. “So, it’s true, then. What they were saying on the train. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts.” Everyone started to collectively whisper Harry’s name when Theo approached Harry. “I’m Theodore Nott. This is Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle.”

Ron snorted at the names when Zabini turned to him. “Think our names are funny do you?”

Nott looked Ron up and down with disgust on his face. “No need to ask yours. Let’s see… red hair and a hand me down robe. You're obviously a Weasley.”

“Blood traitors,” Goyle fake coughed into his hand causing Crabbe, Zabini, and Nott to laugh along with Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode.

“Knock it off, Nott! Didn’t realize you were so starved for attention you needed to bully a Weasley,” Draco snarked as he shot a pointed look at Theo. He had grown up with Theo and loved him like a brother, but the one thing he could not stand about his childhood friend was how he would tease and degrade those whom he thought were below his stature. It was a sore point that often colored their friendship, yet the boys were able to forgive and move on from the tension. However, this time felt different. 

“Sod off, Malfoy. What you doing defending him anyway?” Theo asked, his light-brown eyes boring into Draco with hurt and confusion that the blond was not backing him up. The look made Draco straighten his stance even more as he squared off with his childhood friend. 

“Because your voice is as annoying as a Cornish pixie!” Draco said curtly. Some students started to laugh at the insult, the embarrassment evident on Nott’s face. Ron looked over at Draco, surprised that the wizard would willingly stand up for him after how he treated Draco on the train. 

Blaise Zabini was ready to step up and punch Draco in the face when Theo, surprisingly, held him back. Shaking his head and ready to let the bizarre interaction go, Theo turned back to Harry. “You’ll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don’t want to be going and making friends with the wrong sort. If you like, we can help you out with that.”

“I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks,” Harry said just as McGonagall returned. Her stern face demanded respect and order amongst the group as she escorted them into the Great Hall.

The students’ eyes roamed everywhere taking in the long tables and floating candles in the iridescent night sky when Hermione looked up and spoke to Susan Bones. “It’s not really the ceiling. It’s just bewitched to look like the night sky.”

“And where do you get all your fun facts, Granger?” Draco asked behind her with a friendly smirk on his face.

Hermione smiled back and proudly said, “I read about it in, Hogwarts A history.”

As the students filed in front of the head table, McGonagall indicated where the students were to stand. She unrolled a piece of parchment and looked out to the small crowd of children clearing her voice. “Now, before we begin. Professor Dumbledore would like to say a few words.”

A very old wizard rose from the Headmaster’s seat at the center of the head table. He was dressed in royal purple robes and had a traditional pointy wizard hat that was overshadowed by his long white beard. “I have a few start-of-term notices I wish to announce. The first years, please note, that the dark forest is strictly forbidden to all students. Also, our caretaker, Mr. Filch, has asked me to remind you that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death. Thank you.” 

The students had little time to react to the alarming words the Headmaster had spoken before McGonagall spoke up. “Now, when I call your name, you will come forth. I shall place the sorting hat on your head, and you shall be sorted into your houses.”

McGonagall grabbed the ratty hat by the point as she held it high above for everyone to see the worn cloth that would decide the rest of their school experience. One by one, she called each student forward, going through the list in her hand, presumably in alphabetical order. 

“Susan Bones.”

The girl with long auburn hair that Hermione had been talking to earlier walked up and sat on the stool where the hat once rested. McGonagall carefully placed the hat on her head as the material contorted to form a face. The students gasped in shock as the object begin speaking. “Ah, I know! HUFFLEPUFF!”

Suddenly, one of the tables cheered very loudly as Susan hopped down to take her place among her fellow Hufflepuffs. Hermione started to hyperventilate a little bit at the daunting decision in which she had no control over. Oh no, not now she thought as she began to dread the dizziness that was about to settle in. A few seconds passed, but to her relief, the inevitable panic attack never came. Confused, she looked down to find Draco gently holding and squeezing her wrist reassuringly. His touch was a source of comfort, easing her tremors and calming the rapid beating of her heart, effectively stopping the attack before it had started.

“It’s going to be fine. Deep breaths,” he whispered in her ear.

“Hermione Granger,” McGonagall loudly called her name. Hermione inhaled deeply once more as she muttered to herself to relax all the way up to the stool. 

Draco heard Ron mutter to Harry, “Mental that one,” which caused him to shoot the redhead a warning look as the hat was placed on Hermione’s head. The cloth did not immediately speak like it did with Susan. It had an almost contemplative look on its face as Draco watched Hermione continue to steady her breathing while the Sorting Hat took her measure. After a few minutes, the hat finally sorted her.

“Ah, right there. Hmm… right. Okay, better be, GRYFFINDOR!”

One of the middle tables cheered for her as she, too, hopped off the stool and followed the sounds to her new home. Draco clapped for her as she walked by, briefly catching her eye and saw that her face had relaxed significantly. She did a small wave to Draco before taking her seat next to Percy Weasley.

“What do you know, Draco already has a Mudblood girlfriend,” Crabbe said taunting Draco.

“Shut it!” Draco snapped back just as the clapping died down. More students cautiously came forward as they heard their names, each flinching when the Hat was placed above their head. Draco couldn't help but look over his shoulder, making eye contact with Hermione who gave him kind and encouraging smiles each time until McGonagall called his name.

Draco stepped up to the stool and eagerly sat down. The hat on his head started to laugh. Draco stared straight ahead, attempting to keep his expression neutral as he felt the hat poke and prod through his mind to determine his character. “The Black Family line always surprises me. Even when history repeats itself. Better be… GRYFFINDOR!”

Barely anyone cheered or clapped for Draco as he slowly slid down the stool to go sit next to Hermione. Everyone in the room appeared to be in shock that a Malfoy had been sorted into Gryffindor, even McGonagall. Several at the Slytherin table started to whisper loudly that there had to have been a mistake, for surly a pureblood such as Draco Malfoy could not be in any other house but Slytherin. Others at the Slytherin table started spewing curses at Draco, causing him to hasten his steps to take his seat. Hermione gently placed her hand upon Draco’s wrist and gave it a light squeeze, just like he had done for her, and smiled at him. She told him to ignore the jeers.

Watching the entire interaction from the crowd of first year students, Harry was confused when he asked, “Ron, why is it bad to be in Slytherin?”

“There’s not a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn’t in Slytherin,” Ron said. It was an overly broad stereotype, but one that scared Harry nonetheless. He did not want to end up in House of Snakes.  

“There will be order from the Slytherin table!” Dumbledore sternly rebuked from the head table, causing the rowdy students to immediately cease.

McGonagall regained her composure as she continued to call name after name. No surprise that Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott were sorted into Slytherin. Padma Patil and Michael Corner were sorted into Ravenclaw and then Seamus Finnigan was sorted into Hufflepuff with Susan Bones. Ron was caught completely off guard when McGonagall shouted his name.

He gulped loudly as he took a seat on the stool and then gasped as the hat exclaimed, he was another Weasley. “I know just what to do with you. Better be… GRYFFINDOR!”

Ron visibly sighed in relief as he saw his family, all Gryffindors, stand up and loudly cheer for him. He took the seat across from Hermione, who was clapping for him. Draco wasn’t as enthusiastic about having to share a dorm room with Ron, but Hermione gently elbowed him to clap a little harder. Draco complied and even put his hand out, which Ron actually shook this time.

“Thank you, for earlier,” Ron said.

Draco nodded in acknowledgment as the sorting ceremony continued.

“Harry Potter,” McGonagall called, causing everyone in the room to still and focus their attention on Harry’s sorting. Even Dumbledore leaned forward paying more attention to the dark-haired wizard with wired glasses. Harry walked forward looking back at Hermione, Ron, and Draco at the Gryffindor table.

The hat was placed on his head as it hummed and searched Harry’s mind. “Difficult, very difficult. Plenty of courage I see. Not a bad mind either. There’s talent. Oh yes. And a thirst to prove yourself. But where to put you…”

Not Slytherin, Not Slytherin Harry whispered over and over.

“Not Slytherin, eh? Are you sure? You could be great, you know. It’s all here in your head. And Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness. There is no doubt about that.”

Harry continued to chant over and over that he did not want to be placed in Slytherin. After several moments of contemplation, the sorting hat finally shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!”

He smiled as the hat was taken off his head and happily walked over to the overly enthusiastic table as he sat down and took his place next to Ron and across from Draco. Harry was delighted and relieved as he looked at each of his new friends. Several other students reached over to shake Harry’s hand while the applause continued to roar through the hall. He looked up at the head table to see Hagrid and the Headmaster clapping for him. Dumbledore raised a goblet to him and winked at Harry, approving his house choice.

Once everyone was sorted, Dumbledore raised his hands and announced for the feast to begin, which caused the food to magically appear in front of the students’ eyes. Everyone gasped in amazement. Simultaneously, the students helped themselves to the various dishes and piled their plates full. Ron was reaching for another drumstick when he screamed.

“Hello! Welcome to Gryffindor,” the ghost said as he popped his head out from the center of the plate of chicken wings. Suddenly the Great Hall began to fill with all the ghosts of Hogwarts as they introduced themselves to the new students and greeted returning ones as well.

“Good evening, Sir Nicholas. How was your summer?” Percy Weasley asked.

“Abysmal. Once again, my request to join the headless hunt has been denied,” Sir Nicholas replied.

“I know you! You’re Nearly Headless Nick!” Ron said in awe as he pointed at the apparition. 

“I prefer Sir Nicholas, if you don’t mind,” the ghost replied, a bit perturbed by the young boys brashness.

“Nearly headless? How can you be Nearly headless?” Hermione asked, her eyes wide with confusion an curiosity. 

Sir Nicolas raised an eyebrow at her and said, “Like this!” Many people gasped in disgust as Sir Nicholas pulled his head partially off his shoulders to reveal the transparent blood and guts residing inside the ghost. Ron gasped in fear. Harry winced, but didn’t advert his eyes while Draco laughed at the manner in which the ghost answered the question before turning to Hermione who had her eyes closed.

“Bet you regret asking him that now,” he said to her with a little chuckle.  

“Only a little bit. I’ve suddenly lost my appetite,” Hermione replied.

Once the feast was complete, Percy Weasley was tasked with the responsibility for escorting the first years through the Grand Staircase since it was part of his job being one of the Gryffindor house Prefects.  The Ravenclaws broke off to a different stairwell towards their Common Room while the Gryffindors momentarily stopped to crowd around one of the railings. Several of the first years were leaning far over the rail to look far down toward the ground level while others were looking up towards the ceiling and the pictures that lined the stone walls of the castle. 

“This is the most direct path to the dormitories. Keep an eye on the staircases. They like to change,” Percy warned the students loudly as he began walking them to the Gryffindor Tower entrance, constantly reminding them to keep up.

Many students whispered and commented on the portraits as they walked by. The painted figures were talking amongst themselves when they stopped and greeting as many new faces as possible. The trek up the seven flights felt entirely too long, until they finally came across a portrait that was of a rather plump, old woman requesting a password.

“Caput Draconus,” Percy crisply recited, causing the painting to open and reveal a small porthole in the wall.

The students quickly filed in, taking in the rich tapestries that lined the walls and feeling the heart of the homely fire coming from the large fireplace as Percy begin his well rehearsed speech. “Welcome to the Gryffindor common room. Boys’ dormitories are upstairs and down to your left. Girls, the same on your right. You will find all of your belongings have already been brought up.”

After Percy continued to reiterate the house point system and rules regarding curfew, the young witches and wizards scurried apart to inspect their rooms.

Before heading up, Hermione turned to Draco and asked if he was alright.

Draco smiled at her and said, “It’s just so different from the manor. It… actually looks like a home.”

Hermione smiled at him and told him she would see him tomorrow. Draco returned her smile and walked up to the boy’s dormitory, ignoring the raised eyebrow Percy was giving him.

It was just as the Prefect said, all their trunks were individually placed by a four-poster bed just waiting to be unpacked. The dorm itself was laid out to follow the circular shape of the tower so all the furniture was arranged around a wood-burning stove at the center of the room. Each bed was already made and hung with velvet privacy curtains colored in the infamous Gryffindor red. Draco’s trunk was placed in front of a bed right next to the dormitory entrance. Harry was in the bed to his right. Ron’s was next to the bed on Harry’s other side, followed by Dean Thomas and then Neville Longbottom to occupy the other bed that was on the opposite side of the entrance.

As he was beginning to unpack, Draco found a toad hopping up onto his trunk. “Oi, Neville, I think Trevor wandered off again.”

“Don’t hurt my toad, Malfoy!” Neville shouted as he quickly grabbed Trevor off of Draco’s trunk and hurried back to his bed.

“What was that all about?” Ron asked. Draco turned around to see Harry and Ron standing by his bed.

“It’s a long story,” Draco simply said.

“What? Don’t want to tell your new friends all about your homicidal family? You don’t belong here, Malfoy. The hat clearly made a mistake,” Neville angrily shouted before turning back to unpacking his trunk.

Before anyone could react to what Neville had blurted out, a house elf walked into the dorm room and approached Draco handing him a red envelope that contained a black wax seal of a Gabon Viper. His father’s seal.

Harry noted the change in the room when he quietly asked, “Who was that? What kind of letter is that?”

Draco was too shocked to say anything, so Ron spoke up. “It’s a howler.”

Before Harry could ask his follow up questions, Draco had opened the envelope, causing the message to come to life and take the form of a mouth.

“Draco Lucius Malfoy. If this is your idea of a practical joke, I am NOT AMUSED!” the voice of Draco’s father echoed through the dormitory. It wasn’t as terribly loud as Ron and Nevil expected.

“With your blood lineage, it is impossible for you to be sorted into such a degrading house. I will be speaking to the Ministry immediately to get YOUR FAILURE sorted. Your mother and I are extremely disappointed in your behavior. We have lectured you time and time again to not speak to Mudbloods and blood traitors. Learn your place before I remove you from the school.”

Draco was in shock as he stared at the terrifying message. Each word dripped with the same malevolent tone that chilled the atmosphere of the once inviting dorm room into a space of dread. Before long, the letter had ended and ripped itself apart, leaving the discarded paper all over Draco’s bed.

Ron gently patted Draco on the shoulder and quietly asked him if he was alright. Draco simply nodded and turned around to see the other boys all staring at him.

“Well, you might get your wish after all, Longbottom,” Draco said curtly before walking out of the room.

None of the boys stopped him as he left the dormitory. They all were kind of shocked and none of them knew what to do or say. It wasn’t until Neville finally cleared his shaking throat that the boys started to react again. “Okay, I feel a little guilty now for what I said.”

Ron looked at Harry, before turning to Neville. “I was a little hard on him myself when we met on the train.”

“Maybe we can all give him a chance,” Harry suggested. Growing up with the Dursleys, he knew what it was like to be ostracized for something that you couldn’t control. 

“I mean, he can’t really be that bad if he got sorted into Gryffindor, right?” Dean asked.

The boys nodded in agreement and decided that Draco was going to face enough trouble from his family, and most likely, the entire Slytherin house as well if their reaction was anything to go by. That’s if he was allowed to stay enrolled in school based on his father’s threat.

“Maybe we can make it up to him by cleaning off his bed,” Harry suggested.

“Yeah, good idea, Mate,” Ron said as he and Harry carefully picked up the pieces of shredded parchment off the duvet cover.

As they were just about finished, Draco returned.

“How are you feeling, Draco?” Harry asked.

“I’ll be okay,” Draco said noticing the remains of the howler in Harry and Ron’s hands, “You… cleaned my bed?”

“Yeah, it… seemed like the right thing to do after…” Ron said.

“You don’t have to pity me, Weasley,” Draco said as he looked between the two boys. “But… thanks, anyway.”

To his surprise, Ron smiled back as he went to go discard the paper in the rubbish bin. Harry stopped in front of Draco and said, “For what it’s worth, this feels like home to me, too.”

Chapter Text

The excitement of the night before was not completely forgotten in the boys’ dormitory that morning as the young wizards started to dress for the day. Draco looked in his unpacked trunk to find his uniform had changed from the basic black and grey to that of grey with gold and red accents. His ties were also gold and red, and his robe sported a gold and red lion to indicate his house loyalties.

“I can’t believe our wardrobe magically changed!” Dean exclaimed excitedly as he, Ron, Draco, Neville, and Harry walked down the stairs to the Common Room to make their way to the Great Hall for breakfast.  

“I have to say, I think I look good in red,” Draco teased as he pretended to pose causing Ron, Harry, and Dean to laugh out loud. Even Neville gave a little chuckle as he kept his word to try and give Draco a chance. However, when the boys entered the Common Room, they were shocked to see Professor McGonagall waiting by the fireplace.

“I’m sorry to catch you before breakfast, but I’m afraid I need to escort Mr. Malfoy to the Headmaster’s office this instant,” she said leaving no room for debate.

Draco turned around to face the lads he had just come to know, giving them a brave smile. “I’ll see you guys in class.”

The rest of the boys departed leaving Draco and McGonagall alone in the Common Room. She motioned for Draco to walk out the portrait hole and follow her to the Professor Dumbledore’s office.

As they were walking through the corridor, Draco looked up at her and asked, although he didn’t really say it as a question, “It’s my father, isn’t it?”

“He came first thing this morning and demanded an audience with the Headmaster,” McGonagall explained.

“He’s going to try to pull me out of the school. He threatened to last night in a howler unless I was moved to Slytherin,” Draco told McGonagall.

“And what do you want to have happen, Mr. Malfoy?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“I don’t want to leave, but I don’t want to be in Slytherin either,” Draco answered honestly. 

“I will admit, I was a bit shocked when I heard the hat pronounce you a Gryffindor,” McGonagall admitted.

“You don’t need to apologize to me, Professor. Believe me, you aren’t the first person to judge me on the basis of my family. All I’m asking for is a chance to prove myself. Let me show the school that I do belong in Gryffindor,” Draco pleaded.

McGonagall stopped walking after hearing his request and turned to face Draco. “When the founders came together to form this school, the idea behind the different houses was to foster underlying traits shared among groups of students. It was never intended to create this animosity that is present today. My point, Mr. Malfoy, is that you may not appear to be a traditional Gryffindor, but that does not mean that you do not belong in this house. I will do everything I can to keep you where you belong.”

Professor Dumbledore’s office was tucked away at the end of a corridor in the west tower and guarded by a rather large but elegant gargoyle statue.  Professor McGonagall faced the statute head on and clearly spoke, “Sugar Quill."

The gargoyle started to move as it coiled to form a spiral staircase up to the office. Draco followed Professor McGonagall up the stairs and through another archway where he could clearly hear his father yelling at the Headmaster.

“This is an outrage! As a member of the Board of Governors…” 

“As a member of the Board of Governors, Lucius, you are well aware that the Sorting Hat’s determination is final, and no parent or ministry official has the power to change that. Once the student is sorted, the magical contract has been formed. I’m sure you are aware of the possible implications that has to your son should you resort to breaking it,” Dumbledore explained patiently before turning to see Professor McGonagall and Draco step into the office.

“Headmaster, Mr. Malfoy,” McGonagall greeted politely.

“Ah, Draco. Please explain to the Headmaster you wish to be transferred immediately,” Lucius commanded as he pointed his cane from the boy to Dumbledore. 

“I… Headmaster…” Draco took a deep breath as he looked between McGonagall, his father, and Dumbledore before finally speaking. “I wish to stay in my house.”

Draco looked down at the floor refusing to meet his father’s disappointed glare when Dumbledore spoke. “You see, Lucius, the hat was not mistaken. Clearly your son has made ties to the house he was placed in.”

“He will have no further ties, because I will be unenrolling him immediately,” Lucius said calmly. 

Draco was about to speak up in defense of his decision, but he saw a twinkle from the Headmaster’s eye that caused him to close his mouth and allow Dumbledore to speak.

“I’m surprised, Lucius. Most parents would be honored to have their child sorted into the same house as Harry Potter.”

Lucius raised an eyebrow at the statement. “Is that so?”

“Quite,” the Headmaster nodded.

Lucius was quiet for a few moments, looking between McGonagall and Dumbledore before he focused his eyes on Draco. “Would the two of you mind giving my son and I a few moments?”

Dumbledore motioned for McGonagall to follow him in retreating to the other side of the office as Lucius approached Draco. He lowered his face and spoke quietly into his ear to ask, “You are sharing a dorm room with Harry Potter?”

“Yes, father,” Draco whispered back.

“This is indeed quite fortuitous,” Lucius said. Draco looked up to see his father mentally calculating something in his head before the man spoke again. “I expect you to befriend him. Get close. Learn everything you can, and send me weekly owls as to your knowledge and progress of the boy. Failure to do so will result in… some unpleasant consequences.”

The ominous threat hung in the air leaving Draco with only a few options. One, he could outright deny his father’s request and almost certainly be sent back to the dormitory to pack his trunk. Two, he could accept and obey his father’s request, but that would definitively cause him to lose any hope of making friends. However, it was the only option that would guarantee he would be permitted to stay in Hogwarts and in Gryffindor house.

You could lie, the third option whispered in the back of Draco’s mind. It was not a very honorable thought. In fact, it was almost… Slytherin of him. He could send his weekly letters as requested by his father, but lie as to the nature of the information Harry would share with him. In this way, he could keep everything. Secure his means to stay at Hogwarts, stay in Gryffindor, but not at the cost of losing his friends.

With the clever thought rolling through his head, Draco smiled and said, “I accept, father.”

Just then, Dumbledore and McGonagall came back to see if Lucius and Draco were finished speaking. Lucius turned to the two and said, “It appears I have had a change in heart. Draco can remain.”

“That’s wonderful to hear, Lucius,” Dumbledore replied. The old Headmaster sounded please and possessed a conspiratorial glint in his eye.  

“If Draco is no longer needed, I believe he can still head to the Great Hall for some breakfast before his first class,” McGonagall suggested.

“Yes, quite right. Do run along Draco. Enjoy your first day,” Lucius said dismissing his son. Draco controlled the speed of his walk until he was out of the Headmaster’s office. Once he was down the stairs, he ran with joy all the way to the Great Hall taking his seat next to Hermione. Harry and Ron perked up when they saw Draco sitting down at the table.

“There you are, Draco! What happened this morning?” Hermione asked.

“My father requested me in the Headmaster’s office. He was threatening to have me placed in Slytherin or pull me out,” Draco informed them as he piled some scramble eggs onto his plate.

“Blimey!” Dean said as everyone stopped eating to lean in closer to hear what happened next.

“Is a re-sort even possible,” Hermione speculated. “I’ve never read about anyone being re-sorted in Hogwarts: A History.”

“That would be because it has never been requested, “Percy explained from further down the table. “Besides, to do so would be impossible. When the founders created the school in 990 A.D., the hat was created as a way to ensure students were properly sorted after their deaths. The sorting itself creates a contract between the student and the school, binding them to the house as chosen. Breaking magical contracts have unforeseeable consequences. No one can predict what could happen which is why no one has ever tried.”

The Gryffindor table erupted in low mummers and gasps at the extent it would take to re-sort a person. When the initial shock had worn its way through the table, everyone leaned in closer waiting for Draco to continue the story.

“Oddly enough, Dumbledore used Harry to get me to stay, which can’t be good because now my father an ulterior motive,” Draco explained.

“Used me how?” Harry asked, surprise coloring his tone. 

“He used your name. Essentially argued that I should stay because I was in the same house as you. It was apparently enough to convince him,” Draco finished before taking a large bite of eggs.

“What did you mean that your father had an ulterior motive?” Neville asked skeptically.

After Draco finished chewing, he turned towards Neville and answered, “He wants me to send him weekly letters giving him information about Harry. Said this was the only way I could stay in Hogwarts and in Gryffindor.”

“Draco, that’s horrible!” Hermione gasped. 

“And you agreed to that?” Harry asked, sort of confused and offended at the prospect of someone reporting everything he was doing. 

“Not exactly. See, this is where I need all your help. I’m not going to tell him anything… at least, not anything important. Hopefully we can come up with some rubbish to send him,” Draco explained. He was internally holding his breath as he looked around at the shocked faces at the table. He couldn’t tell if they were at what transpired from the re-sort request or at Draco’s plea to help him stay in Gryffindor.  

After a few moments of silence, it was Fred Weasley that pipped in. "Young, Malfoy.”

“It would be our pleasure to assist you in this epic prank,” George Weasley finished. The redheaded twins had their signature mischievous glint in their eyes to indicate they were concocting all kinds chaos.

After hearing the endorsement from the Weasley Twins, the rest of the table relaxed and either went back to their breakfast or offered some suggestions of outlandish rumors Draco could supply. While the table was settling down, Hermione leaned over and whispered to Draco, “Won’t you get in trouble?”

“Only if I’m caught, love,” Draco smirked and winked eliciting a quiet laugh from her.  

________________

Hermione and Draco were sitting next to each other in Transfiguration trying to complete the assignment McGonagall had given then when all of a sudden, the door burst opened. They both turned to see Harry and Ron running into the classroom looking for an empty two-person desk.

Draco was smirking at their tardiness as he watched and waited for the train wreck that he thought was about to happen, while Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to her assignment. She had no sympathy for the boys’ plight.

Ron sighed quietly to Harry. “We made it! Can you imagine the look on McGonagall’s face if we were late?”

Draco placed a hand over his mouth to cover the laugh that was bubbling up when he saw the tabby cat perched on the desk leap off and transform into Professor McGonagall. Both Harry’s and Ron’s jaws dropped as McGonagall approached them.

“That was bloody brilliant!” Weasley exclaimed. Draco quietly snorted causing Hermione to look over and shoot him an annoyed look.

“It’s not funny!” she mouthed to him.

“It’s a little funny,” he mouthed back.

“Well thank you for that assessment, Mr. Weasley. Perhaps it would be more useful if I transfigured yourself or Mr. Potter into a pocket watch? That way one of you might be on time,” McGonagall chastised.

“We got lost,” Harry explained.

“Then perhaps a map. I trust you don’t need one to find your seats,” McGonagall said perturbed. Harry and Ron quickly took their seats and opened their books to the assignment McGonagall had provided them on the board in the front of the classroom.

When the Professor’s back was turned, Hermione looked up from her work and to catch Draco’s glance. Smiling a little bit, she rolled her eyes again before refocusing on her assignment.

Draco smiled, pleased that he got Hermione to silently admit that the situation with Harry and Ron was indeed, a little funny.

__________________________

“I’m the most excited about Potions! My mother and I used to brew together back at the manor,” Draco told Hermione in their next class. The Potions classroom, unfortunately, was quite a hike for the first years for it was located in the Dungeons of the castle. Ingredients were stored all along the walls, while the majority of the room was occupied by long wooden tables sturdy enough hold several cauldrons at once.

Everyone was seated when the door violently flew open, causing the ingredients along the wall to rattle. Professor Snape came charging into the classroom, a dour look on his face that instantly caused everyone to cease conversations when the Professor turn around and spoke. "There will be no foolish wand waving or silly incantations in this class. As such, I don’t expect many of you to appreciate the subtle science and exact art that is potion-making. However, for those select few who possess the predisposition…”

Snape looked directly at Draco, making the young Gryffindor smile slightly at the compliment. Hermione noticed the subtle look and made a mental note to ask Draco about it later while Snape continued his introductory speech.

“I can teach you how to bewitch the mind and ensnare the senses. I can tell you how to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death.”

Draco’s eyebrows raised at the possibilities when he noticed Snape’s demeanor change once again.

“Then again,” Snape continued as he zeroed in on a student behind Draco. “Maybe some of you have come to Hogwarts with abilities so formidable that you feel confident enough to not pay attention.”

Hermione and Draco turned their heads around to see Ron nudging Harry to put his quill away.

“Mr. Potter,” Snape drew out his name before continuing. “Our new celebrity.”

Ron visibility gulped while Harry hardened his gaze at Snape. Draco tried not to roll his eyes as he watched the Professor slink closer to Ron and Harry's table. 

“Tell me, what would I get if I added powered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?” Snape asked Harry.

Sleeping potion, Draco mentally thought while Hermione immediately raised her hand at the question. Draco smirked at her, knowing Snape wasn’t going to call on anyone in the room, before turning back to look at Harry.

Harry shook his head, prompting Snape to continue. “You don’t know? Let’s try again. Where, Mr. Potter, would I look if I asked you to find me a bezoar?”

In a goat’s stomach, Draco thought again. Hermione tried to raise her arm even higher in an attempt to get Snape’s attention, but to no avail. 

“I don’t know, Sir,” Harry replied tersely. 

“And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

Monkshood is associated with 'chivalry' while wolfsbane can mean 'misanthropy' or a dislike of others. Though, really, they are the same plant, Draco mentally answered again. Hermione’s hand never went down, yet Snape refused to call on her.

“I don’t know, Sir,” Harry replied again in a defeated tone.

Hermione gave the dark-haired wizard a look of disbelief before finally putting her hand down. Snape coolly glared at famous Gryffindor before scoffing. “Pity. Clearly, fame isn’t everything, is it, Mr. Potter?”

____________________

Before Draco could blink, the first month of classes passed and turned into the beginning of October. The homework and lessons were relentless, but Hermione kept motivating him to not give up.

“I hate him!” Harry said as he and Ron walked to their spots at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. Draco and Hermione were already sitting down working on some reading.

“Who?” Hermione asked.

“Snape,” Ron and Harry answered at the same time, causing Draco to chuckle.

“What’s so funny, Malfoy?” Ron asked.

“Snape really isn’t that bad. He is a Potions Master and a brilliant teacher. You just got on his bad side,” Draco explained.

“And how do you know?” Harry asked.

“I was actually going to ask the same. That first day when he introduced himself, he seemed to indicate you had a… what was it… ‘predisposition’ to the art?” Hermione smirked as she lightly teased Draco.

Draco threw his hands up in mock surrender. “Alright, you caught me. So, growing up I had many private tutors and during the summer…”

“Well, out with it!” Harry encouraged.

“During the summer, Snape was one of my tutors. He’s friends with my mother, and he helped me with basic Potion techniques. I can already brew most of the first-year potions,” Draco admitted.

“Bloody Hell,” Ron sighed in disbelief.

“Oh, don’t smirk, Draco Malfoy. Just because you have an unfair advantage in one subject, doesn’t mean I’m not going to beat you for the top spot,” Hermione said.

Draco couldn’t tell if she was teasing him or if she was genuinely annoyed, but he widened his smirk and said back, “Challenge accepted, Granger.”

Suddenly, everyone in the room jumped at the sound of an explosion, but then quickly started laughing when they saw Seamus from the Hufflepuff table had blown up his water goblet trying to turn it into rum.

Hermione was waving her hand in front of her nose to clear the stench of smoldering hair when the ceiling of the Great Hall started to fill up with owls dropping letters and packages off to the various students.

“Ah! Mail’s here,” Ron said looking up with excitement.

All the students were catching and unwrapping their packages when Dean suddenly cried out, “Hey! Look everyone! Neville’s got a Rememberall!”

“I’ve read about those! The smoke turns red when you’ve forgotten something,” Hermione informed her house mate as she unfolded a letter from her parents.

Draco too was opening a letter from his mother when Neville’s ball turned red. The boy stared at the ball in his hand before he turned to Hermione and said, “The only problem is, I can’t remember what I’ve forgotten.”

“Hey, Ron. Someone broke into Gringotts. Listen… ‘Believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown, Gringotts goblins acknowledge the breach but insist nothing was taken. The vault in question, number 713, had been emptied earlier that same day.’ That’s odd. That’s the vault Hagrid and I went to,” Harry contemplated.

Hermione had a puzzled look on her face when Ron asked, “And you have no idea what was in the vault?”

“Whatever it was, it clearly had to be something invaluable to risk being that stupid. Gringotts is impenetrable. No one can break into it without getting out, at least, not without getting out alive,” Draco said.

The conversation died after Draco’s final comment by Dean coming up to them to tell them it was time to head to their first flying class. The anticipation of being able to ride a broom filled the young witches and wizards with such excitement that everyone forgot to tell Neville he had forgotten his robes. 

_______________________

It was an unusually sunny and calm day when the first years stood in parallel lines behind two rows of training brooms laid out on the lawn. The students were waiting patiently with their hands down at their sides when a witch with spikey short hair walked in between the students. “Good afternoon, class.”

“Good afternoon, Madam Hooch,” the children all responded in unison.

After putting on her gloves and addressing a few students personally, Madam Hooch turned around to address to the rest of the class. “Welcome to your first flying lesson. Well, what are you waiting for? Everyone step-up to the left side of their broomstick. Quickly now, come on, hurry up!”

The students all followed the instructions as they watched Madam Hooch’s demonstration. "Stick your right hand over the broom and say, ‘up.’ “

Harry rigidly held out his hand and shouted up, the broom immediately obeying his command. Hermione looked over in confusion while Draco chuckled.

“Up,” Draco said with an air of authority, causing the broom to immediately fly up into this waiting hand.

Hermione whipped her head over to see Draco smirking at her with his broom in hand. He gave her a quick wink causing her to scrunch her nose in annoyance as she kept trying to command the broom to come to her. The broom was being most uncooperative and kept flopping around on the ground like a fish out of water.

“With feeling,” Madam Hooch advised to the students struggling.

“Up!” Ron yelled at his broom, causing the wood handle to fly off the ground and hit him in the face.

Harry and Draco laughed hysterically at Ron, causing the embarrassed redhead to rub his nose and tell them to shut up before he tried again.

Hermione’s continued to roll on the ground fueling her frustration as she continued to try and command the broom. She noticed she was quickly becoming one of the few students who couldn’t get the broom off the ground. Nervous sweat began to form on her palms as she felt the tell-tale signs of a panic attack begin to tighten in her chest.

“You need to relax, Hermione,” Draco advised. “Take a deep breath and trust that the broom will come to you.”

“Trust? But that wasn’t in the book…” Hermione started to argue, but Draco cut her off.

“You can spend all day reading about the theory, love. But sometimes, magic requires you to just feel it for it to work. If you don’t trust the broom, then trust me. Close your eyes. Take a deep breath. And when you’re ready, say ‘up,’” Draco said as he waited and watched Hermione follow his instructions.

Right hand out, eyes closed, and breath released, Hermione spoke loudly and clearly. “Up!” Her words caused the broom to rise slowly but gracefully into her hand. Upon contact with the wood, Hermione’s eye shot open as she let out a relieved gasp at being able to summon the broom. The sweat had dried up in her hand and she no longer felt she might hyperventilate. Draco had once again helped her control her panic attack.

She looked over and saw that Draco was smiling at her success. The sweet grin made Hermione’s heart do an unexpected flutter as she gave him a grateful smile for helping her.

“Now, once you’ve got hold of your broom, I want you to mount it,” Madam Hooch instructed after she saw all the students had successfully called their brooms. “Grip it tight. You don’t want to be sliding off the end.”

Madam Hooch continued to circle  her class as she gave the final bits of her instructions. “When I blow my whistle, I want each of you to kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your broom steady, hover for a moment, then lean forward slightly and touch back down. On my mark, three, two…”

Once the whistle blew, Neville’s broom unexpectedly rose straight into the air startling the young Gryffindor.

“Mr. Longbottom!” Madam Hooch shouted, but the broom kept rising higher and higher until it was at least twenty feet in the air.

“Down! Down!” Neville screamed at the enchanted stick. The poor boy became hysterical when he realized the broom was refusing to follow any commands. His fear caused him to loosen his grip and slide sideways off the handle. Neville screamed as he fell down to the ground face first, smacking onto the grass with a loud snap. His broomstick, completely forgotten, drifted lazily toward the forbidden forest and out of sight.

Several students cried out after watching Neville fall, but none moved forward to help him as they heard the loud and demanding voice of Madam Hooch approach. “Everyone out of the way!”

Neville was groaning in pain as Madam Hooch leaned down and carefully picked up Neville. The flying Professor was examining poor Neville when Hermione whispered to Draco, “Is he alright?”

Draco nodded at her when they turned back at the sound of Madam Hooch clucking her tongue. “Oh, dear, it’s a broken wrist. Come on now, up you go.”

Everyone was so focused on Neville that no one was paying attention to the fact that Gryffindor had dropped his Rememberall, or to the fact that it was currently being picked up by Blaise Zabini.

“Everyone is to keep their feet firmly on the ground while I take Mr. Longbottom to the hospital wing. Understand?” Madam Hooch commanded. “If I see a single broom in the air, the one riding it will find themselves out of Hogwarts before anyone can say Quidditch.”

Once the Professor had left the group of first years alone, Theo started laughing obnoxiously. “Did you see his face?”

Blaise threw the dropped Rememberall up in the air for Theo, who reached out and caught it. Theo threw it back to Blaise who said, “Maybe if the fat lump remembered to give this a squeeze, he’d have remembered to fall on his fat arse.”

The Slytherins all started snickering and laughing when Harry stepped up. “Give it here, Zabini.”

Blaise turned around to face Harry. “No, I don’t think I will.

“I think we should leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find,” Theo suggested

Blaise hopped up on his broom and flew high above the courtyard, holding the Rememberall in one hand while he taunted Harry below. “How about on the roof?”

Theo also mounted his broom and followed Blaise. The two were hovering in the air when Theo looked down and said, “What’s the matter, Potter? Bit beyond your reach?”

Harry gritted his teeth as he watched Zabini continue to juggle the Rememberall back and forth with Nott. Draco moved forward to stand next to Harry when he said, “I’ll distract Nott. You grab the Rememberall from Zabini.”

Harry nodded in agreement at the plan as the two moved forward slightly to mount their brooms. Upon seeing what the two boys were about to do, Hermione pushed her way forward. “No way! You two heard what Madam Hooch said,” she warned. “Besides, Harry, you don’t even know how to fly.”

Harry took off first, Draco following right behind him. He could barely hear Hermione calling them idiots through the rushing wind.

Harry was floating right across from Zabini when Draco did a wide sweep setting a collision course with Nott.

“Give it here Blaise, or I’ll knock you off your broom!” Harry shouted. Just as Blaise was about to respond, Draco was already on course and rammed directly into Theo. The force caused both of them to drastically lose altitude and crash into the ground. Draco had much more experience with brooms, having grown up with a training one himself, so he was able to tumble and roll off without causing any damage to himself and the broom. The same could not be said for Theo who managed to knock his head pretty hard in the ground and break his nose.

The class gasped as they watched Draco and Theo tumble on the ground. Hermione and Ron ran over to help Draco up and were relieved to see that their friend was unharmed.

Up in the sky above, Blaise was annoyed at the lost of his partner when he turned his attention back to Harry. “Go fetch, Potter,” he yelled before throwing the Rememberall far across the courtyard.

Harry, without thinking, flew right past Blaise and dove after the Rememberall, his sole focus on catching the object before it could hit something and break. With his right hand up in the air, Harry reached out and grabbed the small ball, the force causing him to do a couple of rolls that stopped him from hitting the window he was about to collide with.

Smiling to himself, Harry let go of his broom for a second in astonishment that he had caught the Rememberall, not realizing that McGonagall saw Harry catch the object in midair on a broom from the window.

Harry drifted back towards the group of students as he held the Rememberall up in the air for them to see. The crowd, including Ron, Hermione, and Draco all started cheering and ran towards Harry.

Students were embracing Harry, congratulating him on his superb catch. Harry made eye contact with Draco before asking, “Are you alright?”

“All good, Mate. That was wicked, Harry. Nice job,” Draco praised.

The two boys smiled at one another before the joyous celebrations were cut short by Professor McGonagall shouting, “Harry Potter! Follow me!”

Everyone got quiet as they watched Harry walk off towards the castle with the Gryffindor Head of House. Draco, Ron, and Hermione refused to look back at the snickering that the Slytherins were spewing in their direction.

“He’s going to be alright, right?” Ron asked the two with just a slight quiver in his voice.

“I don’t know,” Hermione replied. “We all heard Madam Hooch’s threat.”

“There is no way Dumbledore is going to expel Harry. If anything, McGonagall will probably just deduct house points or give him detention,” Draco assured Ron.

The redhead nodded in agreement as the group of students reconvened until the class was dismissed.

Chapter Text

Draco and Hermione were studying in the library the next morning when he looked over and saw Hemione scrunching her nose in concentration at a particularly thick text. He raised his head slightly so that he could see what she found so consuming. It must have been particularly interesting since it was drawing her attention away from their actual homework. After seeing the title, Draco smirked and returned to the essay that he was working on for History of Magic.

“That doesn’t look like our History of Magic textbook,” he commented casually, causing Hemione to raise her head.

“I’m just trying to understand why the broom didn’t come when I commanded it,” she replied, guiltily. “According to this, the broom should have responded once I channeled my magic. So, something is either wrong with the broom, or it was my magic…”

“That’s not what happened, Hermione. There is nothing wrong with your magic,” Draco assured her.

“Then do you have an explanation for why I was the last one to call my broom yesterday?” Hermione asked.

“Yes,” Draco simply said as he closed his own textbook and began packing his bag.

“Well, out with, Draco! What is it?” Hermione prodded.

Draco paused and leaned across the table to look directly at Hermione, so that she could tell he was serious. “Because you were overthinking the task and allowed your fear to take over.”

Hermione’s face contorted in confusion. She was about to refute the statements when Draco raised his hand to stop her so he could explain. “My mother described it to me this way when I was younger. Any wizard can be good with magic, but a great wizard will always trust it. From what I have learned about you, Hermione Granger, you are grounded and can’t just blindly accept something without some form of proof. Correct?”

Dropping her gaze, Hermione nodded, agreeing with Draco’s assessment. He continued. “In order to fly, you have to trust your magic to channel itself to a certain extent. More importantly, you have to control your fear when using wandless magic. If you can’t trust the magic or control your fear, you run into a disaster scenario like what happened with Neville. You lose control.”

She sighed. “Yes, I see your point. I am not particularly fond of heights. It’s just… the situation is incredibly frustrating!  I read this book at least twice before our first flying lesson yesterday to prepare myself, and when I couldn’t pull the broom towards me, I sort of…”

“Panicked? Like before the sorting ceremony?” Draco asked.

“It’s not something I tell people about. The panic attacks. Maybe one day I’ll tell you why they happen, but not today. I just want you to know they happen when I get really stressed or feel I am about to fail,” Hermione revealed.

Draco leaned across the table and gently wrapped his hand around her wrist, feeling for your pulse; the familiar action soothing. “I’ll stop them if I can,” he promised. Hermione visibly let out a breath she had been holding in. After a moment, Draco kindly smiled at her before letting go of her wrist so that he could finish packing his bag and head off to find Harry and Ron.

“Draco,” Hermione called after him as she rose from the table.

“Yes?” he asked as he turned around to face Hermione.

“Thank you. For listening and not judging me,” Hermione said, echoing his words from the train. “When the broom wouldn’t come, I was afraid I was losing my magic. That this was all going to be a sick joke, and I was going to wake up back at home in my bed because I don’t belong here…”

Draco immediately grabbed her and crushed her into a tight hug. “You do belong here, Hermione. Who told you that you didn’t?”

Hermione shook her head, refusing to answer. Draco sighed, having a pretty good idea who, and internally swore that he was going to beat up Blaise and Theo.

After embracing her for a few moments, he let go and assured her that he would see her in class.

___________________

All the school seemed to be able to talk about was the fact that Harry Potter, a first year, had been named Seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. While Draco was happy for his friend, he was also just a twinge jealous that Harry was going to get to play on the house team, and in his favorite position no less.

“Seeker? But first years never make the house teams. You must be the youngest player in…” Ron started, but Harry cut him off.

“In a century, according to McGonagall,” Harry finished. Draco, Harry, and Ron were walking together in between classes when Fred and George came up behind them.

“Hey, well done, Harry! Wood’s just told us,” George said.

“Fred and George are on the team too. Beaters,” Ron explained.

“Our job is to make sure you don’t get bloodied up too bad. Can’t make any promises, of course. Rough game, Quidditch,” Fred explained.

“Brutal! But no one’s died in years, though someone will vanish occasionally,” George said.

“But they usually turn up in a month or two!” Fred yelled as Ron, Harry, and Draco left the twins to cut across a small courtyard.

Draco was laughing as he saw Harry’s confused face. “Don’t worry, Harry. It’s not that scary. Between the Weasleys and I, we will have you up to snuff on the game in no time.”

“Draco is right. Quidditch is great. Best game there is, and you’ll be great too!” Ron encouraged when Hermione ran up to join the three.

“But I’ve never even played Quidditch. What if I make a fool of myself?” Harry asked.

“You won’t make a fool of yourself. It’s in your blood,” Hermione said. The three boys blinked at her statement, prompting her to beckon them to follow. She led them down a hallway to the Quidditch trophy case where she pointed to a plaque displayed in the front. There was a gold shield with the title “SEEKER” and the name “JAMES POTTER,” inscribed below it.

“Whoa, Harry! You never told me your father was a seeker too!” Ron exclaimed.

Hermione gave Ron a look of disbelief while Draco gently faced palmed himself at Ron’s comment.

“I didn’t know,” Harry said wistfully as he stared sadly at his father’s name.

The four made their way back to the Gryffindor common room with the previous conversation weighing heavily on their minds. They had just begun climbing the Grand Staircase when Ron spoke up again. “I’m telling you, Harry. It’s spooky! She knows more about you than you do.”

“Who doesn’t?!” Harry replied before looking over his shoulder to joke with Draco. “You can put this one in your letter to your father.”

Draco let out a loud laugh when, suddenly, the movement of the staircase caused them to quickly grab the sides of the rail.

“What’s happening?” Harry asked.

“The staircases change, remember?” Hermione said as she too grabbed the railing to keep herself steady. The staircase took the four to the opposite side of the castle from where they had come, firmly connecting to a new landing with a loud thump.

“Let’s go this way,” Harry said as he quickly jogged forward to the door in front of them.

“Before the staircase moves again,” Ron affirmed.

The quartet scurried through the door at the top of the staircase to find themselves in the middle of a large, dark room. There were several statues that were completely covered in dust and cobwebs giving the place a foreboding appearance.

“Does anybody else feel like we shouldn’t be here?” Draco asked the group.

“That’s because we’re not supposed to be here,” Hermione revealed. “This is the third floor. It’s forbidden!”

Everyone jumped when Harry accidently walked right by a stone torch causing a flame to magically appear and light the room further. After recovering from the shock, Harry turned around and said, “Maybe we should go.”

As the trespassing students were leaving, a Maine Coon appeared from around he corner, blocking their escape.

“That’s Filch’s cat!” Ron cried out as the feline continuously meowed at them.

“Run!” Harry instructed, causing the four to bolt in the opposite direction of the cat. As they ran, more torches lit the corridor which allowed them to search for places to hide.  

Draco pointed out a door behind Harry, further down the corridor. “Let’s hide through there!”

Harry reached the door first and tried to yank it open, but it would not move. “It’s locked!”

“That’s it. We’re done for!” Ron whimpered as he turned around to face Hermione and Draco.

“Oh, move over!” Hermione commanded as she aggressively pushed Harry out of the way. Raising her wand, she pointed it directly at the lock. “Alohomora.”

The spell immediately released the lock, the magic illuminated the mechanism in a golden yellow hue for a second before it dimmed. They slipped inside and quickly shut the door just as Filch entered the third floor to find Mrs. Norris staring down the empty corridor.

“Alohomora?” Ron whispered to Hermione.

“Standard Book of Spells chapter seven,” Hermione replied.

Draco chuckled at Hermione’s response. “Brilliant!”

Everyone kept quiet as they listened for Filch to depart. His voice was muffled through the heavy wood of the door, but after few minutes, Hermione pulled her ear away and announced that the caretaker was gone.

“He must think this door is locked,” Ron speculated.

“It was locked,” Hermione rebutted.

“And for good reason,” Harry quivered. Draco, Ron, and Hermione slowly turned around to find a giant, black, three-headed dog sleeping in front of them. Draco held his breath as one of the heads moved slightly bumping into the middle head, causing the third head to also wake with a yawn. As the heads awoke and their eyes focused, the animal became conscious of the intruders and started to growl. 

All four of the children screamed at the top of their lungs before turning and running away. With their combined strength, they were able to relatch the door and prevent the dog from taking a bite out of one of them. Safe, the quartet raced back to the Gryffindor Common Room.

“What do they think they are doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?” Ron yelled at the three.  

“That thing is a Cerberus,” Draco corrected, slightly out of breath.

“Honestly, Ron. You don’t use your eyes, do you? Didn’t you see what it was standing on?” Hermione asked.

“I don’t care what it is! And I wasn’t looking at its feet as I was a bit preoccupied with its heads! Or maybe you two didn’t notice, there were three!” Ron yelled back.  

“It was standing on a trap door,” Hermione snapped.

“Which means the Cerberus wasn’t there by accident,” Draco supplied.

“Exactly, Draco! I bet it’s guarding something,” Hermione theorized.  

“Guarding something?” Harry asked, his brows knitted in confusion. 

“That’s right,” Hermione affirmed, fixing the boys with a stern look. “Now, I’m going to bed before either one of you comes up with another clever idea to get us killed! Or worse… expelled.”

“She needs to sort out her priorities,” Ron murmured. The statement earned a head nod from Harry but an eye roll from Draco.

_______________________

It was finally Saturday when Draco pulled Harry out of bed nice and early and took him down to the Quidditch storage room. They obtained special permission from Madam Hooch to borrow a set of balls so that he could teach Harry the rules of the game.

“Quidditch is the main sport of the Wizarding World,” Draco explained. “Each team has seven players; Three Chasers; Two Beaters; One Keeper; And one Seeker. Seeker is your position.”

After depositing the equipment trunk they had liberated from the storage room onto the grassy courtyard, Draco decided to begin his lesson with a demonstration. Selecting a large red ball from the center of the chest, he threw it to Harry, who managed a fumbling catch. “Right, there are three kinds of balls. This one is called a Quaffle. The Chasers score goals for their teams by putting this through one of those three hoops, over there.”

Harry turned to where Draco was pointing off in the distance at the Quidditch stadium. There was a set at each end of the Quidditch pitch, the golden hoops varied in height. He refocused on Draco who continued to explain the positions. “The Keeper defends the hoops and tries to keep the opposing team from scoring.”  

Harry nodded in acknowledgment as he threw the Quaffle to Draco to put back in the chest. “What are those?” he asked trepidly.

Draco laughed, picking up an item that resembled a cricket bat. “Just watch,” he said, his grey eyes dancing in amusement.    

Harry cautiously stepped back as Draco released one of the miniature cannon balls. Once the chain was off, the iron ball immediately flew high into the air before arching into a rapid, deadly descent. Harry’s eyes widened as Draco wound his arm up, aiming to hit the jet-black object. The wood made contact, the force shooting the ball up and across the courtyard in a fast zig zag motion.

Draco handed the bat to Harry. “That, was a Bludger.”

“You mean the things that Fred and George are supposed to keep away from me?” Harry asked. His eyes watched the chaotic ball waiting for it to zip towards his position on the ground. Mimicking Draco’s swing, Harry managed to hit the ball with equal ferocity, sending it back into the sky looking for a new target.

The two boys laughed, exhilarated by the thrill of trying not to get hurt. “That’s exactly what Beaters do. They stop those little devils from knocking you off your broom.”

Suddenly, the iron ball came sailing back in Draco’s direction. Harry tried to hand the bat back to him, but Draco just waved him off and instead jumped up and caught the Bludger straight in his chest. After struggling on the ground for a moment, he managed to secure the ball with the chain once more.  

Ready for the big finale, Draco pushed on the symbol of the Hogwarts crest located inside the lid of the trunk. With a flourish, Draco held the small golden ball that had been released out to Harry. “This is the Golden Snitch.”

“I like this ball!” Harry admired the small object as he carefully took it from Draco’s hands. He turned it around a few times, curiously examining it. The Snitch felt alive in his hand, the flutter of its wings reminding him of a hummingbird.

Draco laughed, the comment reminding him of his own reaction when his father introduced him to Quidditch. “You like it now. But just wait. It’s wicked fast and almost impossible to see.”

“What do I do with it?” Harry asked.

“You catch it. Before the other team’s Seeker can. When you catch this, the game is over,” Draco explained.

“So, I catch this and Gryffindor wins?” Harry clarified as he felt the Snitch fly away. He was watching the golden ball’s quick movements with child-like wonderment when Draco snatched the ball out of the air.  

“Usually, the team with the most points, wins. Each goal is worth 10 points. Catching the snitch is worth 150. So, typically, the team that catches the Snitch wins the match, but anything can happen in Quidditch!” Draco explained putting the Snitch back in the chest.

“You had no issue catching the Snitch, Draco. And you’re fantastic on a broom. Why didn’t you try out for the position?”

Draco stood up and sighed. “They didn’t host tryouts, because the team had already found a Seeker. It was the only open position.”

“What?” Harry asked in disbelief.

“It’s like Ron said. First years don’t get on the team, but I was determined tryout anyway. I was a little bit jealous when I heard you got the position,” Draco explained sheepishly .

“Then why did you offer to help teach me the game? You clearly are very passionate about it?” Harry asked.

“Because you are my friend, Harry. Just because I didn’t get Seeker this year, doesn’t mean there won’t be an opportunity for me to play in the future. And there are clubs I can join if I really wanted to,” Draco replied. Before Harry could respond, the boys heard someone snorting behind them. They turned around to see a tall, lean individual in a brown sweater that was the same color of his bowl cut.

“I would watch your back if I were you, Potter. Sounds to me like Malfoy is after your spot,” the older student warned.

“I am not!” Draco yelled back defensively.

“As long as I’m the Gryffindor Captain, I won’t let a Malfoy on my team,” the boy said unkindly before turning to Harry with a more friendly expression. “Welcome to the team, Harry. I’m Oliver Wood. Keep an eye out for your practice schedule. The real Gryffindors will teach you how to play.”

After the rude introduction, Oliver left the courtyard, leaving the boys in a stunned silence. Harry knew prejudice existed in the Wizarding World, but he didn’t understand why everyone was treating Draco like this! As the boys were returning the borrowed equipment to the Quidditch storage closet, Harry looked over at the blond wizard he had come to regard as a friend. “Why do people treat you like that?”

“Let it go, Harry. It doesn’t matter,” Draco said.

“No, Draco! Neville acts like he sleeps with one eye open because he is afraid of you; the Slytherin’s call you a blood traitor; your father almost pulled you out of school and asked you to spy on me; and everyone else either mocks you or calls you a baby death eater. What does that mean?” Harry asked exasperated.

Draco sighed. He was dreading this conversation with Harry, silently hoping that he would be able to avoid it for as long as possible. But since Harry didn’t grow up in the Wizarding World, he knew sooner or later he would have to explain himself. He turned around and stood directly in front of Harry, crossing his arms. “My father was a death eater in the first Wizarding War. He supported the Dark Lord. As you have heard, people call me a blood traitor because both my mother and father come from Pureblood lines, and I was expected to follow those ideologies and standards. My sorting into Gryffindor essentially broadcasted to the entire school that I didn’t truly believe that crap and had denounced my family’s teachings. Neville’s story isn’t mine to tell, but let’s just say that what he said about people in my family being homicidal maniacs isn’t too far from the truth.”

Harry was speechless. He hadn’t had any idea this was where Draco came from. He understood the whispers more now.

When Harry didn’t respond, Draco continued. “You can probably draw your own conclusions about my father. He isn’t a good man. But I promise you Harry, even if I have to prove it to you my entire life, I am nothing like him.”

Harry nodded his head, acknowledging Draco’s story. He placed his hand on Draco’s shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze before saying, “I believe you.”

With the heavy conversation left behind in the closet, the boys went about enjoy the rest of their weekend when Harry asked, “How do you know you won’t be the Seeker next year?”

Draco barked out a laugh. “Trust me, Harry. You’re stuck being the Gryffindor Seeker for the next seven years.”

___________________

It was Halloween, which meant that the infamous Hogwarts Samhain feast would be happening tonight. But first they had to get through Charms with Professor Flitwick. When Harry first met the Professor, he had asked Ron if he was a dwarf causing Draco to burst out laughing and Hermione to scold Harry.

“Harry! You can’t make those judgements. That’s offensive. Besides, Professor Flitwick is part goblin,” Hermione explained.

Filius Flitwick was a very kind and intelligent Professor who possessed a mastery in Charms. Today he was preparing the first years for a lesson in levitation. “One of a wizard’s most rudimentary skills is levitation or the ability to make objects float or fly. Now, do you all have your feathers?”

Hermione, along with most of her classmates, raised her feather up for Flitwick to see. “Good. Now, don’t forget the nice wrist movement we ‘ve been practicing. The swish and flick. Everyone.”

The class collectively followed along with the Professor. Once everyone had completed the incantation, Flitwick continued. “Good. Oh, and enunciate. Wingardium Leviosa. Off you go, then.”

Harry, Ron, and Draco practiced the swish and flick movements while saying the spell as instructed. Hermione, in contrast, merely watched all the students around her either mispronouncing the spell or not doing the movement as instructed by Flitwick.

“Going to give it a go, Granger?” Draco teased her.

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him playful when the two looked over to see Ron raise his wand high above his head and say, “Wingardium Leviosar.”

He was violently swishing his wand as if it were a sword and he meant to stab the feather instead of enchant it. His antics made Draco laugh. Hermione, however, could not find amusement in Ron’s poor spell work. With a reprimand that had become second nature to her during their short acquaintance, Hermione intervened.

“Stop, Stop! You’re going to take someone’s eye out. Besides you’re saying it wrong. It’s Levi-Oh-sa. Not Levio-Sar."

“You do it then if you’re so clever. Go on,” Ron dared Hermione.

At this point, Harry had heard the challenge and also stopped practicing. He looked up to catch Draco’s eye; the blond was mouthing something to him.

“5 Knuts on Granger." 

“You’re on,” Harry murmured in reply as the boys turned to watch the scene play out.

Squaring her shoulders and straightening her spine, Hermione performed a dainty swish and flick motion as instructed by the Professor and recited, “Wingardium Leviosa.”

The feather floated higher and higher with Hermione’s controlled wand movements. Draco looked at her face as she shot Ron a smug look. She glanced over to see Draco staring at her, which caused him to lightly flush in embarrassment and redirect his gaze to her floating feather.

“Well done! See here, everyone, Miss Granger’s done it! Splendid!” Professor Flitwick exclaimed.

Ron turned away from her and was sulking while Harry, too, was watching the feather in amazement. No one was paying attention to Seamus who was still trying to recite the spell. He mixed up one too many syllables and caused his feather to explode.

Draco was covering his mouth to try to hide the laugh that was about to spill out, while Harry just stared at the charred feather and the scorch marks on Seamus’s face. He casually looked up and said to Flitwick, “I think we are going to need another feather over here, Professor.”

After class, Harry and Ron were walking with Neville, Seamus, and Dean to their next lesson with Hermione and Draco not far behind them.

“I can’t get over the smirk you gave Weasley after you perfectly levitated the feather! Thanks for being so clever, by the way. I won five knuts from Harry!” Draco told Hermione, which made her laugh.

“Oh? Does that make me a royal betting mare, now?” Hermione teased with a huge smile on her face. “But in all seriousness, it honestly wasn’t as hard as I thought it would be. I took your advice and calmed myself right before I cast the spell, and it worked!”

Draco was about to ask her to study with him in the library later when they heard Ron loudly say, “It’s Levi-osa, not Leviosar.”

Hermione’s face dropped. He was clearly mocking her after she bested him in class.

“Don’t listen to him, Hermione,” Draco implored, but Hermione had already zeroed in on what Ron was saying. He could see tears starting to form in the corner of her eyes.

“She’s a nightmare, honestly! No wonder she hasn’t got any friends.” Dean, Seamus, and Harry were all laughing with Ron when Hermione pushed past him in a huff.

“I think she heard you,” Harry said.

“You think?” Draco said curtly as he too pushed past Weasley to run after Hermione.

“Hermione, wait!” Draco called after her, but she showed no signs of slowing down. He ran further until he caught up with her. “Don’t listen to him. He’s just mad that he couldn’t make the feather float today.”

“Why shouldn’t I listen? He’s right. I’m just a know-it-all freak who no one likes,” Hermione said as she ran around the corner and out of sight.

“I like you,” Draco said to himself as he lost her in the sea of students. 

_________________

The Halloween feast really was everything the older students had been raving about. There was every single type of wizard candy imaginable lining down the long house tables for students to pile onto their plates. Jack-o-lanterns were hanging in place of the usual candles, which only added to the spooky feeling of the festivities.

After spending most of the afternoon looking for Hermione, Draco gave up and decided to head to the Great Hall, hoping Hermione would join them for dinner. He sat down next to Ron, who was stuffing his face with as much candy as possible, when he looked up and met eyes with Harry. He looked worried and apologetic.

“Where’s Hermione?” Harry asked Draco.

“I don’t know. I’ve spent most of the afternoon searching the castle and couldn’t find her,” Draco said as he reached over and grabbed a piece of carrot cake.

Neville leaned over and said, “Parvati Patel said that she wouldn’t come out of the girl’s bathroom. She said she had been in there all afternoon. Crying.”

“Of, course. The one place I didn’t look,” Draco sighed exasperated.

Harry, at least, had the emotional intelligence to look embarrassed by the information, but Ron just shrugged his shoulders as if he was unconcerned. Suddenly, Professor Quirrell pushed the doors of the Great Hall opened and screamed, “Troll in the dungeon! Troll in the dungeon!”

Headmaster Dumbledore stood up from the head table as all the students shifted their attention from him to Professor Quirrell. The purple-robed professor said, “Thought you ought to know,” before fainting in the middle of the floor. 

Panic spread like wildfire through the Great Hall, with students dropping food and screaming as they got up from their house tables to run out of the dining room.

“Silence!” Dumbledore’s voice boomed though the chamber, causing everyone to stop in their tracks and turn in his direction. “Everyone will please not panic! Now, Prefects will lead their houses back to the dormitories. Teachers will follow me to the Dungeons.”

Percy immediately carried out Dumbledore’s orders and shouted to Gryffindor house to keep up and stay alert. They were crossing though a passageway when Harry turned to Ron and asked, “How did a troll get in?”

“Not on its own. Trolls are really stupid. Probably people playing jokes,” Ron explained to Harry, but was cut off when Draco pushed past him going back the way they had just come.

“Oi! What’s with you, Malfoy?” Ron cried out, freezing when he saw the panic on the other boy’s face.

“Hermione! She doesn’t know!” Draco exclaimed. He didn’t bother to look back, but heard Ron and Harry’s steps following behind him.

The three rounded the corner and were running as fast as they could down the corridor when they stopped at the sound of a loud grunt. All three pairs of eyes fixated on the troll silhouette that was cast on the wall in front of them.

“That’s not good,” Draco whispered.

“I think the troll has left the Dungeon,” Ron stated obviously as Harry grabbed both of their robes and pulled them into a small alcove to hide. The boys watched as the troll lumbered by. Seconds later, they heard a shrill, piercing scream.

“That’s Hermione!” Draco screamed, causing the boys to sprint after the troll with no clue if they could stop it in time to save her.  

They busted the doors open and found the troll had just taken its club and destroyed all the stalls. Draco could see Hermione was on the ground, trying to move the wooden debris off of her.

“Hermione! Move!” Harry shouted.

In the light of the bathroom, Draco could clearly make out more detail of the terrifying creature. The thing was at least twelve feet tall with wrinkly, grey and lumpy skin. Draco was momentarily distracted by the troll hobbling on extremely large, ugly flat feet when he noticed it was heading towards Hermione again. 

“Distract it!” Harry suddenly yelled at the boys.

Draco, Harry, and Ron started picking up pieces of wood and threw them at the troll when Ron screamed at the creature, “Hey! Pea brain!”

While their aim was true, striking the troll across various parts of its back, it did not turn until it heard Ron shouting. The distraction allowed Hermione to reach the opposite side of the chamber and hide under a partially destroyed sink while Harry and Draco darted around the troll to trap it between them.

The troll roared, solely focused on Ron, and began to advance upon the red headed wizard. Harry drew his wand and ran towards the troll. He grabbed onto the club and used it to propel himself up and onto the troll’s shoulders. The force of Harry’s landing confused the troll, causing the creature to roar again and shake its entire body back and forth. Harry was struggling to maintain his hold on the troll, when he accidently pushed his wand into its snout.

“Gah!” Ron cried out disgust, but was also visibly relieved that the troll had stopped heading for him.  

With the creature distracted for the time being, Draco ran to Hermione and held out his hand to pull her up. “Are you alright?” he asked, quickly looking her over. Her robe was torn and dusty, but otherwise she was not cut or badly bruised. Considering the damage that was done, she was very lucky.  

“I’m fine,” she replied breathlessly. Hermione had grabbed further up Draco’s forearm to steady and leverage herself off the ground when they turned towards the sound of Harry screaming.  

“Do something!” Harry shouted. Everyone looked up to see Harry was hanging upside down by his ankles.

“What?” Ron shouted back as he looked around while the troll tried to hit Harry with his club, barely missing.

“Anything!” Harry shouted again.  

“Ron! The club! Levitate the club!” Draco yelled as he and Hermione watched in horror as Harry dangled helplessly.

Ron pulled out his wand and pointed it towards the club.

“Swish and flick,” Hermione instructed from the distance. 

“Wingardium Leviosa,” Ron recited causing the club to levitate above the troll’s head. With a giant grin on his face, he softly whispered to himself. “Cool!”

Ron released the club just as the troll raised its head. Gravity allowed the club to fall and clobber the creature directly on the forehead. The impact caused the troll to drop Harry, who rolled out of the way before the creature fell forward on its stomach.

Besides the sound of rushing water from the busted pipes, there was a collective silence following the aftermath, for the troll had stopped moving. The quartet stared at the creature for a good thirty seconds before they dared approach.

“Is it dead?” Hermione quivered.

“I don’t think so. Just knocked out,” Harry replied calmly as he slowly pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. 

“Yeah, I can see it breathing,” Draco confirmed.

Harry and Ron looked at Harry’s wand with distaste as thick, slimy buggers dripped off the end. Harry was cleaning it off when Professors McGonagall, Quirrell, and Snape ran into the bathroom.

McGonagall gasped as she pointed at Harry and Ron. “Oh my goodness. Explain yourselves, both of you!”

The boys searched unsuccessful for an excuse to offer when Hermione spoke up. “It was my fault, Professor McGonagall.”

“Miss Granger?” McGonagall asked in disbelief. Snape and Quirrell looked at Hermione in confusion as she explained, the former observing that the Muggleborn girl had a tight hold on the young Malfoy’s wrist. Noticing his Professor’s scrutiny, Draco lowered his eyes, hoping Snape would direct his piercing stare elsewhere. That last thing he needed to worry about was whether Snape was going to report this to his father.

Moving forward, Hermione addressed the assembled Professors in a remorseful tone. “I went looking for the troll. I read all about them and thought I could handle it. But I was wrong. If Harry, Ron, and Draco hadn’t come and found me, I’d probably be dead.”

“Be that as it may, it was an extremely foolish thing to do. I expected more rational behavior on your part and am extremely disappointed in you, Miss Granger. Five points will be taken from Gryffindor for your serious lack of judgement.”

Draco saw Hermione bow her head a bit in shame as she stepped back beside him. He then felt Hermione reach out again and squeeze his wrist in comfort as McGonagall chastised her. He honestly couldn’t believe she had lied like that, but he wasn’t about to contradict the story she was trying to tell. He was barely paying attention to the rest of what McGonagall was saying until she announced that Harry, Ron, and Draco would be awarded five points each for, “sheer dumb luck.”

Professor Quirrell motioned for them to leave the bathroom and said, “Perhaps you ought to go. It might wake up.”

“Good of you for getting us out of trouble like that,” Harry said to Hermione as they exited the bathroom, walking side by side to the Gryffindor Common Room.

“Five points! She should have given us more. And, honestly, we did save her life!” Ron said exasperated.

“Mind you, she wouldn’t have needed saving if you hadn’t insulted her,” Draco curtly informed Ron.

“What are friends for if not for insults and late-night troll rescues?” Ron inquired casually. They all looked around at one another and smiled. For the fact of the matter was, that Ron Weasley had just admitted the four of them were indeed, friends.

Chapter Text

After the events that transpired on Halloween, things calmed down for the four friends. Hermione and Draco spent many hours in the library reading and studying together. Ron spent most of his free time with Harry or playing wizard cards with the other Gryffindors. Harry, when not in class, was busy with Quidditch practice, the sport leaving him with little free time.

Every week Draco replied to his father’s letters as he had been bid, sharing irrelevant information or outlandish rumors about Harry. The system had been working until the day of the first school Quidditch match, when Snape requested to see Draco after class.  

The young wizard slowly packed up his cauldron and books before he approached his former mentor. Snape did not look up from the stack of parchment on his desk until every last student had filed out of the classroom, and he heard the door firmly shut.

“How are you adjusting, Draco?” Snape asked.

“Very well, Sir. Thank you,” Draco replied, trying to keep his voice even.

“And you enjoy being in Gryffindor house? I trust you are making friends?” Snape inquired again. Draco couldn’t tell if the man was annoyed or simply interested in Draco’s life at Hogwarts.

“Yes, Sir,” Draco said, maintaining a neutral expression, despite how uncomfortable the line of questioning was making him.

“Tell me, how did your parents react when they found out you were in Gryffindor? Would you say they were--- supportive?” Snape’s flat tone starting to make Draco nervous.  

“They… have come to accept the circumstances,” Draco replied carefully. 

“I see, then please enlighten me as to why your father has written to me on multiple occasions and asked me to confirm information you have given him about Mr. Potter?” Snape slowly raised his eyes and fixed Draco with a hard stare as he revealed the real reason for his interrogation.   

Draco gulped, his mouth felt as dry as parchment, leaving him unable answer.

“The truth, Draco. I don’t have all day,” Snape snapped, his irritation evident.

“I…he asked me to spy on Harry. Be his friend and then turn around and tell him what I had learned. He wanted to know everything, so I thought…”  

“You thought that you would make friends with Potter and then give your father false information. How could you possibly think that was a good idea?” Snape asked perturbed.

“It seemed pretty clever to me,” Draco mumbled indignantly.

“It was incredibly stupid!” Snape yelled.

“I’m just trying to stay in school, Professor. I love it here! I love learning, the library, the friends I’ve made,” Draco argued.

“Ah, yes. Along with Mr. Potter you have befriended Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, is that correct? I wonder how your father reacted when he found out your best friend was a mudblood,” Snape said unkindly.

“Don’t call her that!” Draco shouted, his voice ringing against the damp dungeon walls.

“Calm down, Draco,” Snape scolded, his eyes flashing dangerously.

“I just don’t see how it’s any of your business who I’m friends with. Are you reporting back to my father on what I do?” Draco confronted the Potions Professor. When Lucius Malfoy set the terms of his demands that day in the Headmaster’s office, Draco resigned himself to carry out the command. A necessary evil. What Draco did not anticipate was standing in opposition to a man he used to admire. The image he once had of Snape started to crack in light of his possible betrayal.

Snape rolled his eyes. “I am far too busy to engage in such trivial gossip.”

“Then why…” 

“I simply wanted to caution you, Draco. Being friends with individuals like Mr. Potter and Miss Granger is going to… complicate your life, especially with your parents. I would advise you to be more selective about the information you share with your father, even if it isn’t true,” Snape said as he rose from his desk, dismissing the blond from the classroom.

As Draco made his way distractedly to the Great Hall for lunch, Snape’s words echoed inside his head, especially the part where he warned about his association with Hermione. The conversation left him unsettled and wary for the future. He talked a great deal about her in his letters to his mother, but he had not once mentioned her in his weekly letters to his father. Had his father been reading both sets of correspondence? It was troubling to know that his mother hadn’t kept his confidence.

Once in the hall, Draco took a seat next to Ron and across from Harry, who was playing with his food. It didn’t help that Snape had made it a point to give the boy-who-lived a “pep talk”.

“Good Luck today, Potter,” he said, the words sounding like a threat in his silky voice. “Then again, now that you’ve proven yourself against a troll, a little game of Quidditch should be easy work for you. Even if it is against Slytherin.”

When Snape walked away, Ron turned to Draco and questioned, “What was that all about? And why did he make you stay after?”

“My father has been writing Snape to ask if my letters were true,” Draco confided. “He… wanted to talk about them. He warned me to be cautious with what lies I tell in the future.”

“Well, that explains the blood,” Harry suddenly said. His eyes were fixated on Snape’s subtle limp as he walked towards the head table.

“Blood?” Hermione asked in confusion.

“The night we beat the troll. I’m guessing Snape let the troll in as a diversion so he could try to get past that three-headed dog. It must have bit him,” Harry speculated.

“It’s certainly possible,” Draco agreed, nodding as he considered the other boy’s hypothesis. He had to admit that Harry’s motive made sense even if his logic was a bit lacking.

“But why would anyone go near that dog?” Hermione asked.

“The day I was at Gringotts, Hagrid took something out of one of the vaults. Said it was Hogwarts’ business, very secret,” Harry whispered, causing Hermione, Ron, and Draco to lean closer so as not to be overheard.

“So, you’re saying…” Hermione quietly gasped, but Harry cut her off.

“That’s what the dog is guarding. That’s what Snape wants!” Harry affirmed. He smiled like he was Sherlock Holmes who just figured out this great mystery. Draco was about to refute some of what Harry said, but was stopped when Harry’s snowy owl came flying into the Great Hall carrying a large and abnormally shaped package wrapped in parchment. 

Harry reached up and caught the package when Hermione said, “Bit early for mail, isn’t it?”

“But I never get mail,” Harry stated in shock.

“Let’s open it!” Ron suggested, already reaching for the string holding the paper together. The four gazed in wonderment upon seeing what was inside. 

“It’s a broomstick!” Harry said excitedly.

“That’s not just any broomstick, Harry,” Draco corrected.

“It’s a Nimbus 2000! The latest model!” Ron blurted.

“But who…” Harry trailed off when he noticed the stern Transfiguration Professor petting Hedwig. McGonagall smiled at Harry as he nodded in thanks to the head of their house for the gift.

____________________

The Quidditch stadium was packed with spectators who had come to see Harry Potter- the youngest Seeker in a century- play his first Quidditch match. Ron, Draco, Hermione, and even Hagrid, were cheering for Harry from the Gryffindor stands.

“Hello! And welcome to Hogwarts’ first Quidditch game of the season. Today’s game is Slytherin versus Gryffindor!” Lee Jordan announced from the commentator’s box. “The players take their position as Madam Hooch steps out onto the field!” Draco could see the flying instructor’s broom resting on the field next to a chest of Quidditch balls like the ones Draco had borrowed to teach Harry the basics about a month ago.

“The Bludgers are up, followed by the Golden Snitch. Remember the Snitch is worth 150 points. The Seeker who catches the Snitch ends the game. The Quaffle is released and the game begins!” Lee shouted, as a swarm of red and green robes mobbed the ball.

One of the Gryffindor Chasers, Angelina Johnson, managed to grab the Quaffle and score the first goal of the match. Marcus Flint, the Captain of the Slytherin team, had taken possession and was attempting to make a goal. Johnson tried to come up from behind to grab the Quaffle out of Flint’s grasp, but he kicked her, sending the Chaser into a spiral before she regained control of the broom.

“How is that allowed?! Foul!” Draco and Ron kept shouting.

“Honestly, I don’t see how you two can follow this,” Hermione jumped, startled by Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Keeper, blocking Flint’s attempted goal. 

“It’s all very quick, Love. You just have to observe the field,” Draco said.  Quidditch was the only thing that he and Hermione could not come to an understanding on. Draco thought the sport confused her, so he tried to teach her more about it during one of their study sessions in the library. She politely took the book he recommended, wanting to learn about the sport that captivated her best friend, but she just wasn’t as into the game as Draco.

“Don’t worry if you don’t understand, Hermione. Just cheer when we cheer,” Ron advised when he saw Flint take one of his Beater’s bats and hit a Bludger right into Wood’s chest. Boos reverberated through the stands, except for the Slytherins who laughed.  

Taking out the Gryffindor Keeper was only the beginning of the Slytherin team’s antics, as they pushed Katie Bell into one of the field’s corner posts and then tried to knock George Weasley off his broom. Hermione pulled out large binoculars and a quill, recording all the dirty moves employed.

“What are you doing?” Draco asked her.

“Documenting,” Hermione stated simply as she continued to scribble on the parchment.

“What’s goin' on with Harry’s broomstick?” Hagrid suddenly asked behind them.

Ron, Draco, and Hermione looked up to see that Harry’s broom was going bonkers, as if it was trying to buck him off. 

“Someone’s jinxing his broom,” Draco said in shock.

“What? Who?” Ron asked in disbelief.

Hermione abruptly leaned in to the two boys to whisper, “It’s Snape!”

“That’s impossible, Hermione. Snape wouldn’t…” Draco tried to defend, but Hermione cut him off.

“I saw him. Here!” she handed Draco the binoculars so he could look for himself.  

“What do we do?” Ron asked.

“Leave it to me,” Hermione stated confidently as she turned and pushed her way through the crowd.

Draco pointed the binoculars towards the teachers’ box looking for Snape. He stared in incredulity as his old mentor muttered an incantation over and over again, his sight unblinking and directed towards Harry.

“She’s right. It is Snape,” Draco said in a defeated tone. He lost all hope that Harry’s perception of Snape was a misunderstanding in that moment. First, Snape had been corresponding with Lucius behind Draco’s back. Second, he tried to get past the Cerberus for, still, unknown reasons. And now, he was attempting to kill Harry for interfering. Draco’s stomach twisted at the revelation when he heard the entire stadium gasp. Harry’s broom had thrown him off, the boy dangling from the handle for dear life. Come on Hermione!  he thought frantically.

Draco returned to observing Snape. The Potions Professor unexpectedly stood up, stomping on the end of his robe. A wide smile spread across Draco's face when he realized that Hermione had managed to set Snape's robe on fire!   

“Harry’s broom stopped jerking! He got back on!” Ron screamed to Draco.

“Clever witch!” Draco declared with pride in his voice. Harry was now gliding neck and neck with the Slytherin Seeker. They were both taking a nosedive, following the Snitch, when the Slytherin Seeker disengaged. Harry made a risky move by pulling his broom up at the last minute before riding it like a surfboard as he reached for the Snitch. It was almost in his grasp when he stepped forward too far and fell off his broom, tumbling to the ground. Everyone watched on pins and needles as Harry shakily stood up.

“Looks like he’s goin' to be sick!” Hagrid cried when Harry spit something out.  

“He’s caught the Snitch! Harry Potter receives 150 points for catching the Snitch!” Lee announced, ecstatic at the house’s victory.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle, sounding the end of the game, and shouted, “Gryffindor wins!”

The entire stadium, minus Slytherin house, erupted in deafening applause and cheers as Harry held up the Snitch.  

The Common Room would be having a party to celebrate, but Harry couldn’t stop coughing after nearly swallowing the Snitch. The young Seeker was nursing a cup of tea at Hagrid’s hut when his friends told him everything that had happened during the match.

“Nonsense! Why would Professor Snape put a curse on Harry’s broom?” Hagrid asked.

“Don’t know. Why would Snape try to get past that three-headed dog?” Harry questioned Hagrid.

“Who told you about Fluffy?” Hagrid asked concerned.

Draco snorted at the same time Ron repeated, “Fluffy?”

“That thing has a name?” Hermione asked perplexed.

“‘Course, he’s got a name. He’s mine! Bought him off a fellow I met down in the pub las’ year. I lent him ter Dumbledore ter guard the-” Hagrid trailed off, trying to, unsuccessfully end the conversation.

“Yes?” Harry prompted.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Hagrid muttered to himself. He set a hot kettle down in the middle of the table before turning to the four and gruffly demanded, “No more questions! Don’t ask any more questions. That’s top-secret, that is.”

“But Hagrid! Whatever Fluffy is guarding, Snape is trying to steal it!” Harry insisted.

“Codswallop. Professor Snape is a Hogwarts teacher. He’d do nothin’ of the sort,” Hagrid reiterated.

“Hogwarts teacher or not, I know a spell when I see one. I’ve read all about them. You have got to keep eye contact and Snape wasn’t blinking!” Hermione expressed.

“I didn’t want to believe it either, Hagrid. But I saw it, too! Hermione’s right,” Draco affirmed.

“Now, yeh listen to me, all four of yeh. Yeh’er meddling in things that ought not ter be meddled in. It’s dangerous! What that dog is guarding is strictly between Professor Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel,” Hagrid declared hotly.

“Nicholas Flamel? Who’s Nicholas Flamel?” Harry asked confused.

Hagrid looked furious and instantly berated himself for having given them another clue. The conversation cut the celebratory teatime short, sending the quartet back to Gryffindor Tower with more questions than answers. 

_____________________

Before long, it was December, and winter break would be starting the next day. Students who were returning home for the holiday frantically packed their trunks and said goodbye to friends they would not see until after the New Year. Draco and Hermione strolled down to the Great Hall, towing their trunks behind them. They spotted Harry and Ron playing a game of Wizard Chess at the Gryffindor table.

“Knight to E-5,” Harry commanded, causing the piece to magically move on the board.

“Queen to E-5,” Ron said confidently. His queen violently raised her throne, destroying Harry’s knight and knocking it off the board.

“Nice move, Weasley,” Draco said with approval.

“That’s totally barbaric!” Hermione cried out.

“That’s wizard’s chess, Love,” Draco said winking at her, causing Hermione to scrunch her nose the way she often did when she was annoyed.

“I see you two have packed,” Ron said, pointing to Hermione’s and Draco’s trunks.

“I see you haven’t,” Hermione retorted.

“Ron decided to stay for the break,” Draco said to Hermione.

“Change of plans. My parents went to Romania to visit my brother Charlie. He’s studying dragons there,” Ron explained.

“Good. You can help Harry then. He’s going to search the library for information on Nicholas Flamel,” Hermione stated.

“We’ve looked a hundred times!” Ron objected.

Hermione leaned across the table and countered in a whisper, “Not in the restricted section.”

Draco and Hermione grabbed the handles of their trunks and waved goodbye to their friends, wishing them a Happy Christmas. When the two friends were walking out of the Great Hall to the carriages, Hermione shot Draco a look in response to his soft chuckling. “What?”

“Why Hermione, I do believe you just advised Harry to break into the Restricted Section of the library. Who knew that having three boys as friends would have such a bad influence on you?” Draco teased.

Hermione playfully stuck her tongue out at Draco and said, “I said nothing of the sort. I simply suggested he try searching where he had not looked before. How he gets in is strictly open to interpretation.”

______________________

Draco felt like he had been living in a dream, albeit a good dream, and the train ride home was like a splash of cold water on his face. He would be spending the Yule break at the manor, which meant he would have to survive under the same roof as his father. It was a daunting prospect, but one he would have to endure for only two weeks. Before he could dwell any further on the situation, the train pulled into Kings Cross Station. The steam expelled from the slowing locomotive obscured the platform, masking the view inside the train. Draco took advantage of the cover to quickly hug Hermione goodbye, promising he would see her in the new year.

Once he left her, Draco met his mother on the platform and embraced her heartily.  

“I have missed you, my dragon. While your letters have been most comforting, it is no substitute for your presence,” Narcissa Malfoy said as she leaned down and kissed her son’s cheek.

“Mother…” Draco whined as he whipped his cheek with the back of his hand. His annoyance faltered when he observed the sad expression adorning his mother’s face. “Please don’t embarrass me,” he begged. “I’m just… not a little kid anymore.”

“I know, sweetheart. Come. Let’s head home. I’ve already instructed Dobby to collect your trunk,” Narcissa said as she placed an arm around Draco’s shoulders so that she could apparate them back to the manor. “I want to hear more about your first term. Tell me all about your classes.”

Draco talked animatedly about his lessons as his mother listened keenly. They landed just outside the anti-apparition wards (the location chosen on purpose, no doubt, by his mother so that she could spend more time with him) near the end of a long, gravel driveway leading to the ornate entrance. The magical barrier encompassed the entire property, preventing any unwanted intrusion. During their stroll, Draco’s gaze wandered over the well-manicured grounds which were covered in a light snow as expected for the season; the sight gave him a sense of nostalgia.   

Walking through the entrance hall sent a chill down Draco’s spine that was not from the cold. Unlike the inviting walls of the Great Hall at Hogwarts, the grand receiving room of the manor was decorated with priceless tapestries and lined with ancient suits of armor. The dark, gothic molding accented the black and white checkered marble floor. The ceiling was supported by large stone columns spaced along the perimeter, and an artistic mural that stretched the entire length of the room. The imagery was equally intimidating and contributed to the opulent atmosphere.

“Are you happy to be home, my dragon?” Narcissa asked her son.

Draco forced a small smile and looked up at his mother. “Yes, thank you.”

“You must be exhausted from the train ride. Why don’t you go upstairs to your room and rest before dinner? It will be ready in a few hours, and your father should be home by then,” Narcissa said.

Draco quickly hugged his mother before he ran up the stairs to the second floor. He slept in his own private suite that was just off the staircase and down a hallway on the right. Family portraits welcomed him home all the way to his bedroom. When Draco opened the door, he was happy to see that his room was exactly as he had left it back in September.

The ebony, four poster bed was made up with a rich green velvet duvet. His matching bookshelf in the corner displaying Draco’s personal library and favorite collections was completely free of dust. Next to his bookshelf was the desk where he had spent many hours completing lessons with private tutors.

Looking at the sparse space, Draco couldn’t help but feel a bit melancholy about his childhood. Even though it was not nearly as miserable as Harry’s, it also hadn’t been as loving and carefree as Ron’s. He had lived though most of it alone and afraid of his father. He would occasionally have play dates (Theo being the most frequent) with children of his mother’s friends, or he would play with his father’s house elf in secret. But for the most part, Draco was left on his own. Hermione grew up similarly. She told him one day in the library that she didn’t have any friends to miss from her muggle school since she was ostracized for her intelligence. When she came to Hogwarts, her greatest wish was to have friends instead of only the company of a book. Sharing and relating to the loneliness of each other’s past was one of the reasons they really connected.

Draco was always very curious and wanted to read or learn more beyond what he was being taught. Even though his father went to great lengths to censor the curriculum delivered by his tutors, Draco could periodically convince them to slip him books with different perspectives. That’s how he learned about the War and the blood purity movement. His mother would never talk politics, but his father constantly reminded him of what his blood status meant and the responsibilities he would have to embrace in society when he was older.

It was through one of these illicit texts that he had learned about Lord Voldemort and his quest for domination over the Wizarding World. Though there was not much information regarding the reasons behind the pureblood ideology, Draco was able to deduce from the reading that it had something to do with some wizards being disgruntled over the changing ministry policies regarding muggles and muggleborns. Which, to Draco, wasn't much of a reason to follow a madman into committing horrendous atrocities. The one thing from that book that had been burned into his memory was an illustration of the tattoo with which Lord Voldemort branded his inner circle of followers. The skull and snake magically placed on the inner left forearm was known as the Dark Mark. It was apparently meant to symbolize immortality and the image was identical to the one he had seen on his father.

One day, a couple of months before Draco was to leave for Hogwarts, Lucius was giving him a lesson on their family heritage and how his blood lines comprised a small, but superior portion of the wizarding population known as the Sacred Twenty-Eight. According to his father, these families were the only remaining families in Great Britain that were truly pure of blood. As his father was lecturing that day, Draco got up the courage to ask him if the tattoo on his forearm was indeed the Dark Mark and what it meant.

Instead of yelling at Draco, Lucius very calmly rolled up his left sleeve and explained what the mark did and how it was connected to the family. He explained that the Malfoy and Black families had been supporters of the blood purity movement for years, and that Voldemort (or as Lucius called him, the Dark Lord), was simply the most recent figure head. Under his leadership, the Wizarding World would finally be cleansed of the threat posed by those who did not “belong.”

Just thinking about his father’s response made Draco shudder with fear. What was even more alarming was the conversation that had followed. Draco had asked if he would one day be expected to take the mark, to which his father carefully replied, “To do so would be an honor to yourself and to the family.”

Draco was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of a crack as Mini, one of their family’s house elves, popped into his bedroom.

“Mini was told to summon Young Master for dinner,” the elf said.

“Thanks, Mini. I’ll be down in a minute,” Draco replied. 

The house elf bowed before snapping her fingers, disappearing from the bedroom. Taking a deep breath, Draco got off the bed as he prepared himself for the inquisition he was bound to be subjected to by his father.

_______________________________

The Malfoys were situated around the table with Lucius at the head, Narcissa on his left, and Draco on his right. The family of three had eaten their first course in silence. Once the soup had been served, Lucius turned to Draco and asked, “How are you, my son?”

“I am well father. Thank you,” Draco politely replied. He had learned at a young age to be guarded with his father. Stalling followed by the polite formality were classic Lucius Malfoy tactics used to extract the information he wanted.

“Your mother and I are very happy to have you home for the holiday. She was worried you might elect to stay at the school with your new friends,” Lucius declared stoically . Draco did not respond.

“Draco was telling me about his classes earlier this afternoon. He is excelling, of course, in all his subjects,” Narcissa interjected.

“Quite right. Excelling, but not first in his year. You are placing second, to a mudblood no less. Completely unacceptable, Draco,” Lucius chastised him.

Draco clinched his jaw to keep from yelling at his father. Ever since Hermione told him that the word was a slur, he had hated hearing it, especially when it was being used to refer to her. He knew very well his father was talking about Hermione.

“Still, we are both very proud of you, my dragon,” Narcissa said before taking a bite of her creamy potato soup.

“Thank you,” Draco said to his mother.

“Tell me, Draco. Are you perhaps spending too much time socializing and not enough time on your studies? Your house isn’t becoming a distraction, is it?” Lucius pointedly asked.

“No, father. I’m in the library more often than my Common Room,” Draco replied, refusing to meet Lucius’s piercing gaze.

“Is that so? And are actually studying or fraternizing with a friend, perhaps?” Lucius continued with his line of questioning. “I believe you told your mother you spend a great deal of time with Miss Granger, a mudblood.”

“Lucius,” Narcissa warned as Draco spoke up at the same time.

“Hermione is incredibly clever. She is interested in the same subjects I am and is a great study partner,” Draco spat. He was losing his patience, and now angry that his mother, did in fact, not keep the contents of Draco's letter closely guarded. He made a mental note to filter her letter more in the future. 

“Study partner? Draco, how can you not see? This mudblood is inferior and clearly using you!” Lucius raised his voice.

“Stop calling her that!” Draco yelled back.

“Draco, you will not shout at the table,” Narcissa chastised, but it was no use.

“What did you just say?” Lucius challenged.

“I said, stop calling her that name! She’s done nothing wrong! She’s my friend. I don’t understand how you can hate someone for something they can’t control. You’ve never even met her!” Draco defended Hermione, his voice growing louder with every sentence. Each retort caused Lucius’s eyes to darken in a dangerous look that Draco had only seen a few times throughout his life. However, Draco couldn't bring himself to care about the consequences in that moment, for he was panting from the outburst when his father finally spoke.

“You are dismissed from this table. Immediately!" Lucius’s tone was low and threatening, leaving no room for further argument.

Draco abruptly shoved his chair away from the table causing the legs to scrape loudly across the floor. “Fine! It’s not like I wanted to continue eating anyway.”

After Draco left the dining room, presumably going to his room, Narcissa sighed and turned to her husband to ask. “Why did you do that?”

“Cissa…” 

“No! You know perfectly well you were antagonizing him. So, he has some muggleborn friends at school. It’s not something you need to badger your son about,” Narcissa reprimanded.

“Yes, it is! As soon as I saw the house rosters, I was concerned. Gryffindor House is brimming with people of low breeding and no influence. Judging by his behavior tonight, I was right! I should have pulled him out of Hogwarts the day after he was sorted,” Lucius growled back at his wife.

Narcissa calmly set her spoon down. “You were never going to follow through on that threat, dear. Doing so would have jeopardized your position with the Board of Governors and, quite frankly, been even more of an embarrassment to the family.” 

Rubbing his temple to ease the forming headache, Lucius took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Arguments were rare in the Malfoy household, but they were often explosive when they did occur.

Narcissa reached out to hold her husband’s free hand. “Why are you so adamant for Draco to embrace the pureblood ideology?”

He squeezed her hand back, seeking comfort from her love. “Because the Dark Lord…”

“The Dark Lord is gone!” Narcissa insisted. “He can’t hurt you or our family anymore.”

“You and I both know he isn’t truly gone. The Mark never went away. He could return one day. If…when that happens, I want Draco to willingly accept it. It’s the only way to keep our family together and alive,” Lucius declared somberly.

“The only thing you are accomplishing is making your own son terrified of you. I know you tried to keep him from reading about the War, but he clearly possessed some knowledge about the subject prior to Hogwarts. Besides, he is certainly bound to learn about the topic eventually. He knows that Bellatrix, my sister…his aunt, is a mass murderer. He thinks you are just like her when you are not! You can’t keep the truth hidden. Tell him your story. He loves you. He will understand,” Narcissa implored, but Lucius shook his head.

“Maybe I will have that conversation with him when he is older,” he conceded, but the vague statement did little to quell his wife's pleads. “I’m sorry for causing a scene at dinner tonight.”

“I forgive you, my love,” she brought his hand up to her lips and gently kissed his knuckles. “Please apologize to Draco tonight.”

Lucius nodded before rising from the table and kissing his wife on the forehead. It seemed he owed his son a visit.

__________________________

Draco was laying on his bed when he heard a small knock on his door. “Come in,” he called.

Lucius slowly walked in and sat on the edge of the queen-sized bed. There was an awkward silence as Lucius chose the appropriate words. Deciding to keep it simple, he began. “I came to apologize; I did not mean to upset you on your first day home.”

“I just don’t understand why you are against the muggleborn wizards and witches. You’ve told me my entire life they are inferior, but Hermione is living proof that is a lie!” Draco exclaimed. 

Lucius sighed before patting his son’s leg. “It is difficult to articulate why I hold these beliefs. I’ve devoted my entire life to this cause, Draco. One does not simply abandon an ideology after generations of support to that ideal.”

“If you would just meet her, see how clever and kind she is,” Draco pleaded, but his father shook his head.

“That is not possible, son. I’m sorry. Perhaps one day, when you are older, you will understand.”

The subject was abandoned for the evening as Lucius rose to exit the bedroom. It bothered Draco that his father was unwilling to meet Hermione, but he had a more important task to try and accomplish this winter break.

“Father?” he called out.

Lucius turned to his son from the doorway when Draco asked, “Do you know anything about a wizard named Nicholas Flamel?”

“Where did you hear that name?” Lucius asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Just around school,” Draco replied casually.  

After a few minutes of silence, Lucius blinked and responded, “No, I’m afraid I have not. Goodnight, son.”

When his father shut the door, Draco shot up and immediately wrote a brief letter to Harry advising him to check the Restricted Section as soon as possible. After giving the letter to the owl that was perched on his balcony, Draco went back to laying on his bed. He stared at his ceiling for hours, contemplating why his father had lied to him about Flamel before succumbing to sleep.

_____________________________

The rest of Draco’s break at the manor was relatively uneventful. His father did not attempt to relitigate his friendship with Hermione, nor did he ask about Harry or Ron. As was tradition, his mother threw the annual Malfoy New Year’s Eve soiree that was attended by many elite wizards and ministry officials. All purebloods or half-bloods, of course.

The only thing that Draco hated more than having to dress up and make “polite” conversation with people he couldn’t care less about, was that he would be expected to socialize with Nott, Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Ten minutes before guests were expected to arrive, his mother straightened his tie and escorted him down to the entrance hall where Lucius was already waiting. The family formed a receiving line where Draco shook hands with a forced smile as people asked him questions about his schooling and potential career prospects. It was incredibly awkward for Draco to greet his classmates from different houses, especially Nott and Zabini.

After everyone had arrived, his mother and father went to mingle, while Draco hung out along the wall of the ballroom. He absolutely hated these events. The only thing that had made them bearable in the past was Theo and Blaise, but now, they were enemies. Speaking of the Devil…

“Malfoy,” Theo said as he leaned against the wall next to Draco. Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle remained in the corner on the opposite side of the room.

“Nott,” Draco acknowledged tersely. 

“Come on, man. Don’t be like that. We were friends at one point,” Theo pleaded.

“Key word being, ‘were’,” Draco replied.

“Oh, you get sorted into Gryffindor and become friends with Potter, and now all of a sudden you are holier than thou?” 

“I can’t remain friends with people who call my other friends mudbloods and blood traitors,” Draco replied curtly.

“Even though they are. Did you not get a family lesson? Do you even remember where you come from?” Nott echoed Draco’s tone.

“Where I come from doesn’t define who I am!” Draco yelled a little louder than he had intended, causing some of the guests to turn their heads toward the boys’ argument. Before Theo could respond, Lucius was suddenly standing in front of them.

“I suggest that you keep your tone in check and not cause a disturbance.”

“I apologize, Mr. Malfoy. I meant no disrespect,” Nott said demurely. 

“Sorry, father,” Draco added. 

“There you are Lucius! It’s almost midnight, which means it’s time for you to give the toast,” Narcissa said as she gently pulled her husband to the center of the ballroom.

Five minutes to midnight, and people were gathering around the couple as Lucius held up a glass of champagne and addressed the room. Draco tuned out what his father was saying when Nott leaned down and whispered in his ear, “You’re going to have to make a choice, Draco. You can’t be friends with mudbloods and be friends with me. Take your pick. Us or them?”

Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven.

The room kept counting down as Draco turned to face Theo and look him directly in the eye. So, that was how this was going to go? With his former childhood friend trying to push him into a corner, forcing him to renounce his new friends, and then go back to the way things had been before Hogwarts? The young Slytherin evidently wasn’t very clever, for he obviously didn’t learn that you should never tickle a sleeping dragon.

Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

“Them,” Draco clearly said as everyone else in the room shouted and cheered, “Happy New Year!”

Draco could see Nott’s jaw had dropped, illuminated by the magical fireworks that were displayed on the ballroom ceiling. His shock brought Draco a sick sense of satisfaction as he smirked at the Theo, beyond pleased with the Slytherin's reaction. Nott eventually recovered from Draco’s response as he gritted his teeth towards the blond. 

“You made the wrong choice, Malfoy. I’d watch your back if I were you,” Theo threatened before leaving to go find the other boys. Not feeling very festive, Draco soon retreated to his room only to find an owl was perched on his walk-out balcony ledge. Retrieving the letter clutched in the animal’s beak, he smiled when he saw the handwriting on the envelope.

Draco,

I hope this finds you before midnight, but I just wanted to write and tell you I miss you.

 Happy New Year!

I can’t wait to see you on the train in a few days.

Always your friend,

H.G.

Chapter Text

Draco did not regret the decision he made the night of the party. The conversation with Theo left him upset and worried for his friends’ safety, but they were concerns he filed away to deal with when other matters were not taking precedent. His remaining days of the Yule break were spent raiding his family’s library trying to find any information about Flamel. He was thoroughly convinced that whatever was under the trap door, Snape was after it, and Flamel was the key. As luck would have it, his mother presented him with the solution on the Friday after New Year.

Concerned about how much of the holiday her son had spent hunched over musty books, Narcissa frowned slightly when she observed him nearly buried in parchment, carefully flipping ancient pages as he squinted at their faded text. Knowing she would be unable to persuade him to abandon his quest, even temporarily, she tried a different tact. “Are you looking for something particular, dear? Perhaps I can help.”

Grateful for her offer, Draco asked, “Do you know a wizard named Nicholas Flamel?”

Narcissa perused the open books spread across the table and smiled. Her son had pulled many different texts covering a variety of topics, but there was one notable absence. Seeking to remedy the situation, she walked over to a shelf in the far-right corner of the room and selected a book from the very bottom. “You might want to try this.”

It was titled, Not Fools Gold, Correcting Historical Inaccuracies about Alchemy.

“What’s this?” Draco inquired, taking the small text in his hand. The smooth red cover and stiff spine made it seem as if the book had never been read.

“Just a book about the history of the art of Alchemy. I believe it will aid you in your search. Are you ready to return to school on Sunday?” Narcissa probed, changing the topic.

“All my robes and school supplies are packed in my trunk,” Draco replied, disinterested in the conversation as he sat down in his favorite leather chair and opened the book to the first page.

“Oh my. Then you probably don’t have any room for these,” Narcissa joked, holding up a bag of sweets from Sugarplum’s Sweet Shop in Diagon Alley.

Hearing the rustling bag caused Draco to perk up. He instantly jumped off the seat and held out his hand. “Are those…” 

“All your favorites, my dragon. Although, I’m curious when you started liking Pink Coconut Ice?”

Draco ignored his mother’s question in favor of opening the bag to see a variety of Cauldron Cakes, Bertie-Botts Every Flavored Beans™, and the Pink Coconut Ice he had requested. A slight blush spread across his cheeks when he softly responded, “It’s for my friend. Thank you, mother.”

Narcissa didn’t say anything as she smiled and embraced her son before leaving the room.

____________________

Draco practically sprinted to the red brick wall between the numbered signs 9 and 10 at the station. He couldn’t wait to get on the train and head back to school, but more importantly, he couldn’t wait to see Hermione again.

“Slow down, my dragon,” Narcissa laughed. “I know you are excited, but it will do you no good to get hurt.”

“Sorry, mother,” Draco apologized, jogging through the wall to the other side of the platform.

He left his cart and luggage with the porter before turning around to say his goodbye.  

“I love you, Draco. I’ll see you in July,” she assured before kissing the top of his head.

“I love you too, mother,” Draco replied sincerely.

He ran up the steps and started searching the compartments for Hermione. She was sitting in a section filled with first years.

“Draco!” she cried, setting her book down and jumping up from her seat to hug him.

“Hey, Hermione!” Draco chuckled hugging her back.

“It’s so good to see you! How are you doing?” she inquired. They sat down across from one another next to the window.

“Better now that we are going back. Oh, I got a surprise for you!” he informed her, pulling out the bag of sweets from his mother.

“Is that Pink Coconut Ice?” she examined the package, her eyes widening in delight.  

“Yes, it’s your favorite, right?” Draco confirmed before handing her the candy.

Hermione’s smile radiated pure happiness as she took the small bag of pink squares out of Draco’s outstretched hand. “Yes! But don’t tell my parents.”

“Why not?” Draco inquired curiously, choosing a Cauldron Cake for himself.  

“They’re dentists and don’t approve of me eating a lot of sweets,” she replied nonchalantly.  

“Dentists? What is that?” Draco asked confused by the muggle terminology.

“It’s a doctor… sorry, healer. A healer that specialized in treating teeth,” Hermione explained.

“Oh! You mean an Oral Healer for muggles. I had to go see one when I was a little for accidently biting an Acid Pop. I can see why they would disapprove,” Draco laughed.

Hermione was stunned, almost speechless, as she processed what Draco had just said. Opening up about her life as a muggle was a line she was quickly learning whether or not to cross as she formed relationships with her classmates. Sometimes her “odd” comments were simply ignored. Others were met with hostility, most likely from a lack of understanding or prejudicial beliefs. The main culprits came in the form of Pansy Parkinson and Romilda Vane.

Pansy, the disagreeable, pureblooded Slytherin girl, often taunted Hermione for her studiousness. While Hermione had no problem taking the highroad and ignoring the pug-faced witch, Draco, Ron, or even Harry had no qualms protecting Hermione from the girl’s vile comments. Just thinking about their steadfast defenses made Hermione smile. When It came to Romilda Vane, that was a more delicate matter. Privacy simply wasn’t possible when sharing a room with four other girls. Inevitably, things that were not meant to be shared became common knowledge or fodder for the gossip mill. Romilda, also being a pureblooded witch, was brash and unapologetic about her criticisms of Hermione’s mannerisms. While Hermione didn’t think Romilda was being mean on purpose, and probably even believed she was doing her a favor by helping “integrate” her into wizarding society, her unsolicited advice left Hermione feeling like she had to compartmentalize and hide parts of her identity. When compared to her friendship with Draco, he didn’t make her feel as if she had to live two different lives. His honest curiosity and open acceptance was like a breath of fresh air, blowing away the insecurities that threatened to take root inside her mind.  

Realizing she was still staring at him, Hermione blinked, recovering from her internal reflection to squeak out, “Yes, exactly!”

Draco smirked to himself, pleased that his present made her happy as the train started to pull away from the station. The two had settled into occasional conversation, simply enjoying each other’s company. They were completely unaware that Narcissa Malfoy had watched the entire interaction from the platform. This was the first glimpse she had of the muggleborn who had captured her son’s attention. She was sure this wouldn’t be the last time she would see Hermione Granger. She only worried that Draco’s association with someone of her status would cause trouble for him.

___________________

The Christmas holiday came and went along with the snow and winter season. Spring, though a somewhat joyous occasion, brought with it frantic students studying and preparing for the end of the year exams. One day in the library, Harry and Ron were catching Draco and Hermione up on their epic Christmas adventure with Harry being gifted a real invisibility cloak and using it to discover a mirror that showed what the viewer truly desired. Hermione gave the boys a disapproving look for breaking curfew, even if the consequences were not all that serious given that it was the holiday. While Draco was sad to hear that Harry had been unsuccessful in the Restricted Section, he was happy to inform the others that his search on Flamel in the manor proved fruitful.

“No wonder we couldn’t find any information on him! The man’s an alchemist!” Ron exclaimed.

“What’s an alchemist?” Harry asked.

“It’s someone that studies alchemy, an ancient and complicated branch of magic. It focuses on magical composition as well as the transmutation of substances, usually with gold or silver,” Draco explained. “Hogwarts doesn’t really teach the subject. Every once in a while, the course is available as an elective, if there are enough upper-class students interested.”  

Hermione was quickly turning the pages of the book from the manor. “Of course! Here it is! ‘Nicholas Flamel is the only known maker of the Philosopher’s Stone’. “

“The what?” Ron and Harry asked at the same time.

“Honestly, don’t you two read?” Hermione asked perturbed. She rolled her eyes at the boys when they didn’t respond and continued. "The Philosopher’s Stone is a legendary substance with astonishing powers. It’ll transform any metal into pure gold and produces the Elixir of Life which will make the drinker immortal.”

“Immortal?” Ron asked.

“It means you’ll never die,” Draco clarified.

“I know what it means!” Ron snapped, slightly offended. Harry shushed him and motioned for Hermione to continue.

“‘The only stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicholas Flamel, the noted alchemist who last year celebrated his 665th birthday!’ I bet that’s what Fluffy’s guarding. That’s what is under the trap door! The Philosopher’s Stone!” Hermione theorized.

 “That’s if it’s real. Most people believe it’s a myth,” Draco pointed out, leaving the table to discuss while he put a reference book away. He wasn’t looking where he was going and accidently ran into Hagrid.

“Oi, careful there, Malfoy. Yer alright?”

“I’m okay. What are you doing in the library, Hagrid?” Draco asked once he had regained his balance.

Hagrid got very uncomfortable with the question and started to shift his feet. Draco noticed he was trying to conceal something behind his back when he replied, “Jus’ lookin’. Was wonderin’ if yeh could help me with somethin’.”

Draco nodded as Hagrid whispered, “I’m lookin’ for some books abou’ dragons.”

“I know exactly what book you need! Follow me!” Draco smiled as he led Hagrid to a different shelf a few aisles down. “Here,” Draco offered, handing two books to the Gatekeeper. “Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland is very detailed and has the best illustrations of any guide I’ve read. My personal favorite, though, is From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon’s Keepers Guide. Even though dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks’ Convention in 1709, I find the text absolutely fascinating!”

Hagrid accepted the books with his free hand and placed them in the oversized pocket of his jacket with a smile. He was turning to leave when he leaned down and whispered to Draco. “Best keep this between you and me, eh?”

Confused, Draco nodded and watched as the large man shuffled out of the library. Odd, Draco thought to himself as he rejoined his friends at their table.

“Good, you’re back. We’ve decided to confront Hagrid about the stone, tonight,” Harry informed Draco. It would be the night they would get the answers to all their questions.

_________________________

The quartet left about halfway through dinner so as not to draw too much attention to themselves or their mission. They quickly jogged across the school grounds to the edge of the Forbidden Forrest where Hagrid’s hut was located. Curtains were drawn over all the windows so that no outside observer could see inside. Indeed, the only indication that Hagrid was home, was the smoke coming from the chimney. Undeterred, Harry walked up the steps first and knocked firmly on the heavy wooden door.  

Hagrid slowly opened the door and peered out to find the four young Gryffindor’s on his doorstep. “Oh, hello! Sorry, don’t wish ter be rude, but I’m in no fit state ter entertain today.”

“We know about the Philosopher’s Stone,” the four called out in unison, the revelation caused Hagrid to freeze, leaving his eyes wide and full of fear.

“Oh,” the half-giant croaked, reluctantly letting Harry, Ron, Draco, and Hermione into the abode.

“We think Snape is trying to steal it,” Harry blurted out, taking off his cloak. The boy-who-lived wasted no time with pleasantries and got straight to business.

“Snape?  Yer not still on abou’ him, are yeh?” Hagrid asked. He was getting really annoyed with their meddling and accusations about the professor.

“We know he’s after the stone, we just don’t know why,” Harry revealed as he sat down on the bench next to a large black cauldron hanging in the well-lit fireplace. Ron claimed the spot next to Harry while Hermione and Draco shared the oversized recliner adjacent to the boys.

“Snape is one of the teachers protectin' the stone! He’s not about ter steal it!” Hagrid repeated.

The four shared a look, confused by Hagrid’s adamant defense. “What do you mean?” Harry asked for clarification.

“Yeh heard me. Alright, come on, now. I’m a bit preoccupied today,” Hagrid said as he tried to shoo the students out the door. Draco wasn’t paying attention to Harry’s line of questioning, for he was a little distracted by the fact that Fang, Hagrid’s Neapolitan Mastiff, was currently drooling down Ron’s left shoulder.

“Wait a minute! ‘One of the Teachers’? Who else knows about the stone?” Harry demanded.

“Well, besides Snape… there’s Professor Sprout- Professor Flitwick- Professor McGonagall-" Hagrid had his hand raised as if he was trying to tick them off on his fingers, but the young wizards could not see the number due to the fact that he was wearing oven mitts, “Professor Quirrell- an’ Dumbledore, o’ course.”

“Of course! There are other things defending the stone, aren’t there?! Spells. Enchantments,” Hermione exclaimed. Draco started to laugh while Hermione’s face scrunched in disgust at Fang enthusiastically licking Ron’s face.

“That’s right! Yer wasting yer bloody time, if yeh ask me. Ain’t no one gonna get past Fluffy,” Hagrid chuckled. “Ain’t a soul knows how, except for me and Dumbledore!”

Hagrid started to mumble that he shouldn’t have told them that when something started to rattle inside the cauldron. All four sets of eyes turned their attention to the large egg being pulled out of the cauldron. They gathered around, watching the shiny, brown shell jiggle on the wooden tabletop.

“Is that what I think it is?” Draco speculated. His voice laced in amazement rather than posing an actual question. 

“Hagrid, what exactly is that?” Harry asked cautiously.

“That? It’s ah…” Hagrid stuttered but was cut off by Ron.

“I know what that is! It’s a dragon egg!” Ron exclaimed. He and Draco made eye contact across the table. Both their eyes were wide with excitement.

“So that’s why you needed the books about dragons! How did you get one?” Draco inquired, not taking his eyes off the egg. Ron and Draco were both so captivated that neither of them noticed the fear evident on Hermione’s and Harry’s faces.

“I won it! Off a stranger I met down in the pub. Seemed quite glad ter be rid of it, as a matter of fact,” Hagrid explained as a sharp cracking noise suddenly filled the small hut.

Harry, Hermione, Draco, and Ron all leaned away from the table, holding their breath as the egg started to shake and move. The shell violently split open, spewing broken pieces across the room. Emerging from the confined space was a slimy, jet black and scaly creature. One of its long, boney wings stretched high into the air while its eyes blinked to adjust to the light of the room.

They all watched in fascination as the dragon repositioned itself and examined its surroundings, making small squeaky noises. Looking in between Ron and Hagrid, the dragon sneezed. A couple of sparks flew out of its snout.

“Isn’t he beautiful?” Hagrid murmured with affection. He reached out to stroke the dragon’s head.

“That’s a Norwegian Ridgeback! My brother Charlie works with these in Romania,” Ron declared as the dragon continued to coo under Hagrid’s affections.

“Oh, bless him. Look, he knows his mummy! Hello there Norbert,” Hagrid lovingly sighed.

“Norbert?” Harry asked confused.

“He’s gotta have a name, don’ he?” Hagrid replied, tickling the dragon under the chin. The action caused the dragon to sneeze, again. This time, a small ball of fire shot right into Hagrid’s beard.

Hermione gasped as Hagrid tried to put out his smoldering hair. Draco was laughing at the antic when Hagrid abruptly called out, “Who’s that?”

The quartet turned around in unison to catch a glimpse of the intruders who were peeking through a crack in one of the curtains. It was Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini, and they had seen the dragon.

The four thought it best to hurry back to the Gryffindor Common Room before any information about Hagrid and Norbert could start circulating around the school. Once situated on the couches around the fire, they started to brainstorm a way to get Norbert away from Hogwarts before Hagrid got in trouble for holding an illegal dragon.

“Can’t Hagrid just let him go?” Harry questioned the group.

“No, he can’t. Norbert’s too little. He’ll die,” Draco reasoned.

“Hagrid can’t keep him more than three weeks. By then, he will have grown too big for the hut,” Ron explained.

The four sat in silence for a few moments contemplating the situation before Hermione looked directly at Ron and piped, “Charlie!”

“Have you lost your marbles? I’m Ron!” the red head asserted.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “No- Charlie, your brother- in Romania? You said he studies dragons! We could send Norbert to him!”

“As a dragon keeper, Charlie can take care of him and then release him into the wild once he’s mature,” Draco supplied, smiling at Hermione for coming up with such an ingenious solution.

“Brilliant!” Ron exclaimed, “I’ll write him now.”

“We can use Hedwig. She should be able to find your brother in Romania. If we send the letter first thing tomorrow morning, we should have a response in a few days. That will hopefully be plenty of time to convince Hagrid it’s what’s best,” Harry asserted, the final word adjourning the group.  

The two boys jumped up to head to the dorm room, extremely pleased with the plan. Draco and Hermione remained sitting next to each other when she blushed, “What is it?”

“Nothing, you’re just absolutely clever,” Draco mumbled contently.  

Hermione chuckled, “Thanks, Draco.” She fixed him with a mockingly stern look and said, “Now, we better get to bed. If you keep staying up and oversleeping, then I’m going to make you a schedule like I did for Ron and Harry.”

Draco laughed. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

______________________

Just as Harry had predicted, they got a response from Romania by Monday afternoon, about a week after Norbert hatched. Charlie agreed to take the young dragon in and could have a team ready for extraction in five days. He told them to have the Ridgeback on top of the Astronomy Tower at midnight on that date.

Elated, the four went to Hagrid’s hut to show him the letter and tell him the good news. Ron and Draco had been sneaking down each night to help Hagrid take care of Norbert. The visits, though bonding the boys over their shared love of dragons, were also meant to slowly convince Hagrid that giving up the creature was for the best. As Ron liked to put it, Draco had a charming silver tongue that could sell a wizard his own wand.

“Hagrid! He’s already grown twice his size in less than two weeks,” Harry exclaimed.

“I know- I can’t keep him forever, but…” Hagrid admitted, but was interrupted by Hermione.

“No! Hagrid, you’ve always known this wasn’t going to end well. At least this way Norbert will be with his own kind,” Hermione stated gently, her tone imploring him to see reason.  

“He’ll be with Charlie!’ Ron chimed in.

“He’s not going to be alone, Hagrid. You’ve done such a good job taking care of him so far, but he’s growing too fast. He needs to be somewhere out in the open, under the sky. Don’t worry… he’ll be alright,” Draco reassured the half-giant.

Hagrid watched the spry dragon chew on one of his boots. His face dropped at the reality of the situation. Tears started to gather in his eyes when he reluctantly nodded his head.

Draco let out a sigh of relief, pleased that his powers of persuasion had not gone to waste, “You still have a couple of days, Hagrid. We just need you to get him ready so that we can sneak him up to the astronomy tower.”

With Hagrid on board, the quartet left the hut, thankful that Norbert would soon be out of Hogwarts. The only thing they had left to worry about was avoiding Nott and Zabini until they could successfully execute their plan.

“Saturday cannot come soon enough,” Hermione said, and Draco nodded in agreement.

__________________________

It was just before midnight when they snuck out of the entrance guarded by the fat lady’s portrait and met Hagrid outside in the courtyard. The half-giant was already waiting with Norbert packed in a large crate.

“He’s got lots o’ rats an’ some brandy fer the journey. Oh, An’ I’ve packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely,” Hagrid sniffled.

Draco raised his eyebrow. Ripping noises that sounded as though the teddy bear in question was having his head torn off came from inside the crate.

“Bye-bye, Norbert!” Hagrid sobbed as Harry, Ron, and Draco grabbed the crate while Hermione covered them with the invisibility cloak.

Hermione acted as lookout, navigating them up the marble steps in the Entrance Hall and along the dark corridors until they reached the doorway that would lead to the Astronomy Tower’s spiral staircase.

At first, the crate did not feel heavy with the dragon’s weight divided between the three boys. But, by the fourth landing, they were panting heavily from the exertion.  

“How many more floors? My arms feel like they are going to fall off!” Ron complained, out of breath.

“Almost there. The top is on the tenth floor,” Harry huffed.

“Shh! I hear voices,” Hermione warned. “You keep going, and I’ll distract whoever it is.”

While the boys continued their ascent, Hermione crouched behind a statue in the fifth-floor corridor. In the dim light of a hand lantern, she could make out Professor McGonagall chastising Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott.

“This is an absurd claim, Mr. Nott. I do not see Mr. Potter, nor do I see a dragon. I’m taking twenty points each from Slytherin house,” the Professor said in a stern commanding tone.

“But you don’t understand!” Blaise pleaded.

“We saw the dragon!” affirmed Theo.

“Not another word. To my office now!” McGonagall ordered, sending the two Slytherins back towards the grand staircase.

Hermione smiled to herself as she snuck back into the Astronomy Tower. She skipped all the way to the top floor where she saw Draco, Ron, and Harry waiting near one of the turret’s open windows.

“Why are you so happy?” Draco asked smiling when she did a little jig.

“Zabini and Nott both got caught by McGonagall,” she informed the boys proudly.

“I could sing!” Ron exclaimed gleefully.

“Please, don’t,” Harry advised him.

Softly chuckling, they waited for Charlie. Norbert thrashed impatiently inside the crate, wanting to be free from his confines.

“Soon, little guy. You’re almost there,” Draco whispered trying to calm the dragon.

About 10 minutes later, the extraction team flew into the open tower on broomsticks.

“Charlie!” Ron shouted running over to hug his brother.

“It’s good to see you, Ron. I’ve missed everyone!” Charlie said before turning to the other three. “And these are your friends? They must be very good ones if they’re willing to smuggle a dragon with you.”

“This is Harry, Draco, and Hermione,” Ron introduced.  

“Hello!” Harry politely greeted. Draco nodded, and Hermione awkwardly waved.  

With the brief pleasantries out of the way, Charlie and the crew rigged a harness between two of the brooms. In no time, Norbert was anchored up and suspended, ready for his relocation. The children shook hands with the handlers and thanked Charlie. Before the gang took off into the night, the older Weasley gave Ron another hug with a promise to visit him over the summer. Finally, Norbert was gone.

Hearts buoyed by their success, they felt as if a weight had been lifted.  The four embraced one another, smiling at the outcome. 

“I know we just did the right thing, but I already sort of miss Norbert?” Harry sighed. In that moment, he strongly believed that between the four of them, they could accomplish anything.

“We just saved a dragon, and Slytherins are in detention,” Hermione happily stated.

“Nothing can spoil this night!” Ron proclaimed loudly. Nobody paid attention to the footsteps behind them.

“Good evening,” McGonagall greeted them unkindly,

“You just had to jinx it… didn’t you, Weasley,” Draco said sardonically as the quartet broke apart to face the consequences.  

______________________

“Nothing, I repeat, nothing… gives a student the right to walk about the castle at night. Therefore, as punishment for your actions, 50 points will be taken,” McGonagall disciplined them. After the four had been caught, she escorted them to her office on the first floor. Blaise and Theo were already there when they walked in.

“Fifty!” Harry cried out.

“Each,” their Head of House affirmed viciously.

Draco’s jaw dropped. McGonagall was seriously going to take 200 points from her own house!? That meant all the points Harry had won for Quidditch, and all the points Hermione has earned for answering questions correctly meant nothing! He was so angry that he wanted to scream. Mostly, he wanted to turn around and punch Nott in his stupid face for snickering behind him.

“And to ensure it doesn’t happen again,” McGonagall continued. “All six of you will receive detention.”

The snickering suddenly stopped.

“Excuse me, Professor, perhaps I heard you wrong. I thought you said the six of us,” Theo quipped, approaching the desk.

“No, you heard me correctly, Mr. Nott,” McGonagall confirmed. “You see, as… honorable as your intentions were, you too were out of bed after hours. You will join your classmates in detention.”

Chapter Text

None of the young Gryffindors slept a wink that night, so overcome with grief over the fact that they had managed to lose 200 points for their house. Harry was the most upset out of the four, because he had left his invisibility cloak up in the tower. Even worse, he couldn’t find it the next day when he tried to retrieve it. Ron was sure they were going to be hated by everyone. The major deduction put Gryffindor into last place, practically guaranteeing Slytherin would win the house cup. But the outrage over the circumstances wasn’t necessarily directed at Harry, Ron, or even Hermione. No. It was all targeted towards Draco.

Draco couldn’t figure out who it was that had come up with the idea that he was some sort of evil mastermind. Students pointed at him in the hallways, loudly whispering that he planned all along to get sorted into Gryffindor as to deceive Harry Potter and tarnish the honorable reputation of the House of Lions. Some went so far to make false claims that Draco had used an unforgiveable curse! In essences, his housemates blamed the Malfoy heir for the loss. Harry, Ron, and Hermione tried to stand up for their friend, but nobody believed or listened to them.

“You guys don’t have to keep defending me,” Draco told them a few days later.

“Of course, we do, Draco! You didn’t ‘corrupt us,’ or do anything those dramatic rumors claim. We are solely responsible for own actions,” Hermione insisted.

“Everyone’s just mad and will get over this in a few days. Fred and George have lost Gryffindor loads of house points in the past for their pranks,” Ron reasoned, trying to cheer everyone up.

“Did they lose 200 in a single night?” Harry disputed with a slight edge to his voice.

“Well…no,” Ron gave up.

Just then notes were delivered to the four from Professor McGonagall informing them that they were to meet Filch that night to serve their detention.

________________________________

At exactly eleven o’clock that evening, the quartet made their way down to the Entrance Hall and saw the Filch standing there in his usual grimy brown robes. Nott and Zabini were already waiting at the caretaker’s side. Mr. Filch’s mouth was turned in a scowl as he growled at the students to hurry up.

“A pity they let the old punishments die,” Filch muttered to the troublemakers, his lantern barely illuminating the dark path of the school grounds. “There was a time when detention found you hanging by your thumbs in the dungeons. God, I miss the screaming,” he lamented with feeling.

Draco’s eyes widened in fear. To his right, he heard Ron gulp loudly as they approached the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

“You’ll be serving detention with Hagrid tonight,” Filch announced, depositing the children with the half-giant. “He’s got a little job to do inside the forest.”  

“Right,” Hagrid addressed the six of them. He was clutching a large crossbow with trusty Fang wagging his tail from side to side. “Now listen carefully, ‘cause it’s dangerous what we’re gonna do tonight.”

“Wait! This is a joke, right? We can’t go in there!” Blaise objected, his voice rising in a worried pitch.

“Students aren’t allowed. And there are… werewolves!” Theo emphasized.

“There be worse creatures than werewolves in these woods. If yeh want ter stay in Hogwarts, yeh best keep quiet and follow me,” Hagrid said fiercely.

They formed a line behind the groundskeeper into the thick, dark woods, staying as close as possible to his large frame for fear of straying off the path. A damp mist covered the air, blocking the only light to guide them from the quarter moon. In his other hand, Hagrid carried a large lantern that did little to brighten the barely visible trail. The ground was rough, underbrush cracking and echoing with each step the party took.

Draco felt like they had walked forever before Hagrid motioned for them to gather around a silver puddle in a clearing. He dipped his fingers in, examining the unknown liquid.

“Hagrid, what is that?” Harry asked with a shaky voice.

“What we’re here for. See that?” Hagrid questioned the children, holding up his fingers. They nodded in unison. “That’s unicorn blood, that is. I found one dead a few weeks ago. Now, this one’s been hurt… bad… by somethin’. So, it’s our job ter go and find the poor beast.”

Ron whimpered, sounding like he was going to cry. Hermione held her left hand up to her mouth, covering it like she was going to be sick. Draco reached out and firmly held her free wrist, giving it a comforting squeeze. Harry, not really paying attention to his friends’ distress, quickly turned around as if he had heard something over his left shoulder.

“Right, we are going ter split into two groups. Harry, Ron, and Draco are going ter come with me. Blaise, Theo, and Hermione will go with Fang.”

“Great, we get the mudblood,” Blaise muttered behind Draco, ignoring the rest of Hagrid’s instructions.

“Wonder if anyone will notice her missing?” Theo taunted, smirking as he looked at Hermione.  

Draco felt her stiffen under his hand. Her chest visibly heaved, slowly rising and falling, as if to quell the panic evident on her face. All were indications she had heard Theo’s threat.

“Actually, Hagrid, I’ll go with Nott and Zabini,” Draco spoke up, interrupting him. After a few seconds of contemplating the request, Hagrid nodded.

“Draco, are you…?” Hermione whispered, but her voice trailed off when she felt him gently press his thumb to her pulse point.

“I’m not letting you go off with them after what they said. I won’t let anything happen to you, Hermione. I swear,” he vowed softly so that only she could hear.

Draco looked into her surprised chocolate eyes. While he knew in his heart that this clever and brilliant witch could overcome any challenge thrown her way, he still felt an overwhelming need to try and protect her. Hermione was important to him. In that moment, he knew he would rather suffer through anything than risk her being hurt.

“Hermione,” Harry called, causing the two to break apart as she went to join Ron, Harry, and Hagrid. Theo, now holding the lantern, followed Fang in the opposite direction. Blaise and Draco trailed closely behind.

“I can’t believe that oaf! Having us trample about in the Forbidden Forest,” Theo growled. “This is servant’s work!”

“Too bad you can’t report this to your father, Malfoy,” Blaise grunted, almost tripping over a fallen branch.

“Nah, if he did that… then he would have to tell daddy about his mudblood girlfriend,” Theo joked cruelly.  

Draco ran up behind Nott and pushed him to the ground. Theo's shoulder hit a large tree root, causing him to drop the lantern and allow it to roll away from the small group. 

“What’s your problem, Malfoy!” Blaise yelled, shoving the blond wizard off.

“Stop calling her that!” Draco shouted at the Slytherins.

Theo jumped off the ground and tackled Draco. He was trying to pin the Gryffindor down, but was struggling to see in the dark as the boys rustled about in the dirt. “You gave me up for a mudblood, Draco! A filthy… dirty… witch!”

Draco hit Theo in the side of his throat, stunning the boy long enough for him to roll out from under Theo and lunge. While ignoring the slight sting he felt in his cheek, Draco managed to punch the tall, thin wizard in the face, before Blaise grabbed him by his robes and pulled him off Theo.

“Blood hell, Malfoy!” Theo yelled, wiping a bit of blood from his busted lip as Blaise helped him off the ground.

“Don’t you ever, call her a dirty witch, ever again! If you ever think about using the word mudblood or any other slur when talking about Hermione… I swear I will do so much worse to you, Nott!” Draco threatened.

“Do you even hear yourself? Draco, she is unnatural! You would seriously choose her, choose blood traitors over us?” Theo pointed between him and Blaise, the betrayal he felt clear from his tone. “You were like my brother!”

“Theo, wake up! I know you are smarter than just blindly accepting what our fathers taught us. Honestly, what makes Hermione any different? Her blood is just as red, just as magical, as yours!” Draco shouted. Though the New Year's party had felt like the boys' fates had been sealed, a small part of Draco still had hope that Theo would listen, would understand that this ideology was unfounded and routed in hatred. Draco, naturally, had done his own research prior to Hogwarts and already started questioning the beliefs his father fought so hard to instill in him, but spending time with Hermione, and consequently other muggleborns like Dean Thomas, had really put things into perspective with just how misguided those teachings were. Why couldn't Theo see that? Why wasn't his childhood friend willing to listen and comprehend for himself that this wasn't the path to take?

“Don’t say that!” Theo spat. His voice croaked and his eyes were starting to mist with tears. “I can’t even look at you. I don’t know who you are anymore!”

 “The feeling is mutual,” Draco stated, his eyes hard and unforgiving. Any ounce of hope that he had for Theo to open his mind quickly depleted as Draco allowed the hurt and disappointment fill his heart. He thought Theo would be one of those people whom would always be in his life, like a constellation in the night sky that was unwavering. But now, all Draco wanted to do was part ways never speak to the person that he used to know.  

“Guys, what’s that?” Blaise quivered. He had picked up the lantern and was holding it near his face. Blaise's shaky finger was pointing at a shadow in the clearing. Despite the mist, Draco could see a familiar mop of disheveled dark hair backing away from something.

“Harry?” Draco called out, running after his friend who had just fallen down.

He arrived to find Harry clutching at his scar, crying out in pain. A few yards from them, the missing Unicorn was sprawled on the ground with a cloaked individual sucking the blood from its broken neck. 

Behind the Gryffindors, Blaise and Theo were screeching at the top of their lungs, Fang’s aggressive barks added to the cacophony as they retreated from the terrifying sight. The cloaked creature looked up and growled at the intruders, causing the Neapolitan mastiff to run away.

Draco pulled out his wand. “Stay back!”

The warning did nothing to deter the monster as it slowly approached. Draco hesitated for a moment before pointing his wand up in the air, bellowing, “Periculum!”

Red sparks flew from its tip, high above the forest tree line like a flare. The glare from the spell illuminated the clearing, bathing the cloaked figure in an amber light, adding to the macabre feeling of the scene. Draco silently prayed that Hagrid would see the warning as he took a couple of steps back to put some distance between himself and the advancing monster. A gnarled root caused him to lose his footing, sending him to the ground next to Harry.

The terrified boys watched the creature glide closer, bracing for their doom. Suddenly, the sound of heavy hooves filled the air, shattering their stupor. It was a Centaur. Before they could say anything, the palomino jumped over them and attached the monster until it retreated deeper into the forest, lost in the fog.  

Harry and Draco helped each other up, walking over to thank the half-man, half-horse being for saving their lives. The Centaur looked perturb at the sight of the young boys in the woods so late at night, but his face softened in recognition when he looked at Harry.

“Harry Potter, you must leave at once. You are known to many here in the forest. It is not safe at this time. Especially for you,” the Centaur warned.

“But what was that thing you saved us from?” Harry asked, quickly regaining his composure.

“A monstrous creature,” he explained. “It is a terrible crime to slay a unicorn. Drinking its blood will keep you alive even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. For you have slain something so pure, that from the moment the blood touches your lips, you will have a half-life. A cursed life.”

Draco shuddered. “Who would choose such a life?”

The Centaur raised an eyebrow at the question. “Can you think of no one?”

“Voldemort!” Harry concluded, the shock evident in his voice.

“You mean to say… that thing that was drinking the unicorn’s blood was You-Know-Who?” Draco clarified in disbelief, his eyes wide with fear. He wasn’t brave enough to say the actual name like Harry.

“Do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?” the Centaur continued to lightly interrogate the boys.

Harry nodded, his face conveying that he had just figured out Snape’s motivation. “The Philosopher’s Stone.”

“Harry! Draco!” Hermione yelled from surprisingly nearby. She ran over and hugged Draco, tightly. “We saw the flare! Are you alright?”

“We’re fine, love. Promise,” Draco replied, returning her embrace.

Ron, Blaise, and Theo were standing behind Hagrid when the half-giant lowered his cross-bow. “Hello there, Firenze. See you’ve met young Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy.”

Firenze lowered his head in acknowledgment before turning back to address Harry. “This is where I leave you. Good luck. You are safe.”

With the unicorn found, regrettably dead, Hagrid ended the detention and escorted the children out of the forest. They made their way silently back to the dorm. Once they were behind the portrait, the four needed to regroup and decompress from the unexpected turn of the night’s events. Harry was pacing agitatedly back and forth in front of the fireplace. Draco, Ron, and Hermione sat on the couch and waited for Harry to speak.

“It all makes sense now! We had it all wrong… and Voldemort is waiting in the forest…” Harry mused aloud.

“Will you stop saying his name!” Ron whispered in a terrified voice. The others ignored him.

“You mean, You-Know-Who is out there right now?” Hermione confirmed.

“But he’s weak. If what Firenze thinks is correct, he’s living off the unicorns until Snape can get the stone and create the Elixir of Life!” Harry theorized.

“He’ll come back,” Draco added softly. 

“But if he comes back, you don’t think he’ll try to… kill you, do you?” Ron whimpered.  

“I think if he had the chance, he might have tried to kill me tonight. If it wasn’t for Draco and Firenze, I’d probably be dead,” Harry stated. He looked over at Draco with gratitude in his eyes. 

Ron gulped. “And to think I’ve been worrying about my Potions final.”

Draco quietly chuckled at Ron’s attempt to defuse the tension when Hermione piped up. “Hang on a second. We’re forgetting one thing. Who’s the one wizard Voldemort has always feared?”

Hermione’s chest puffed out a little bit at her display of courage in speaking the forbidden name. When the boys didn’t answer her prompt, she continued, “Dumbledore! As long as Dumbledore is around, Harry, you’re safe. You can’t be touched.”

Exhaustion suddenly overcame the young Gryffindors. They decided to retire to their respective dormitories and revisit the topic after exams. Harry was just about to crawl into bed when he pulled his blanket back and gasped.

“What is it, Harry?” Ron yawned.  

Folded neatly under his blanket was the invisibility cloak with a small note that read, Just in case.

_______________________________

“I’d heard Hogwarts’ final exams were frightful, but I found that rather enjoyable,” Hermione exclaimed gleefully. It had been a couple of weeks since they served their detention, and like most of the school, they had been focused on their end-of-year exams. The four were taking a much-deserved jaunt across the school grounds, having just finished their Charms final, the last one for their year.

“Speak for yourself!” Ron grumbled.

“Are you alright there, Harry?” Draco asked.

The boy-who-lived had hissed in pain, stopping in mid-stride to bring his hand to his forehead. “My scar. It keeps burning.”

“Is this what happened that night in the Forbidden Forest?” Draco pressed, concerned for his friend.

“Similar, but not like this,” Harry explained vaguely.

“Maybe you should see the nurse?” Ron suggested.

Harry shook his head. “I don’t think she can help me. I… I think it’s a warning. It means dangers coming.”

The friends were standing around in a circle near the edge of the courtyard when they heard a flute playing off in the distance. Harry abruptly turned at the sound and started walking down the dirt path towards Hagrid’s hut.

“Harry, where are you going?” Hermione called after him, Ron and Draco following right behind her.

“Why didn’t I see it before?” Harry said to himself.

“See what? What’s happening?” Ron asked. He, Draco, and Hermione were struggling to keep up with Harry’s brisk pace.

“Don’t you find it odd that the one thing Hagrid wants most in the world is a dragon and a stranger turns up who just so happens to have one? How many people wander around with dragon eggs in their pockets?” He asked rhetorically and exasperated by his own incompetence at not having put the clues together sooner. Harry huffed a little bit before sprinting the rest of the way to the hut.

“Oh, hello you lot,” the half-giant greeted.

“Hagrid, who gave you the dragon egg?” Harry questioned impatiently.

“I don’ know. I never saw his face. He kept his hood up the whole time,” Hagrid said, caught off guard by Harry’s tone.

“This stranger though. You and he must have talked?” Harry cajoled for more information.

“Well, he wanted ter know what sort of creatures I looked after. I told him… I said, ‘After Fluffy, a dragon ain’t gonna be no problem’,” Hagrid recounted.

“Was he interested in Fluffy?”

“Well, of cours’ he was interested in Fluffy. How often d’yeh come across a three-headed dog?” Hagrid replied irritably. As quick as his ire had come, the half-giant softened his disposition and resumed his story. “But I told him, I said, ‘The trick with any beast is ter know how ter calm him.’ Take Fluffy, for example. Yeh play him a bit of music and he falls straight ter sleep.”

At this last piece of information fell into place, Harry’s theory solidified. The quartet shared horrified looks at hearing Hagrid had told a complete stranger, most likely Voldemort, how to get past Fluffy.

“I shouldn’ta told you that,” Hagrid said, gauging the expressions on the students’ faces. Without saying goodbye, Harry bolted back up the rocky path, with Draco, Ron, and Hermione on his heels. They ignored Hagrid’s cries as they sprinted all the way to the Transfiguration classroom. Harry didn’t even bother knocking. He just barged inside, surprising McGonagall.

“We have to see Professor Dumbledore, immediately!” Harry panted, the four forming a line in front of McGonagall’s desk.

“I’m afraid Professor Dumbledore isn’t here. He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and left immediately after,” McGonagall explained sternly.

“He’s gone? Now!? But this in important! This is about the Philosopher’s Stone!” Harry pleaded.  

McGonagall raised her eyes in alarm. “How do you know-”

“Someone’s going to try and steal it!” Harry insisted, the other three students nodding in agreement.

“I don’t know how you four found out about the stone, but I assure you it is perfectly well protected,” their Head of House stated firmly. “Now, would you go back to your dormitories? Quietly.”

Momentarily defeated, the quartet left the classroom and regrouped in the hallway.

“That was no stranger Hagrid met. It was Snape. Which means he knows how to get past Fluffy,” Harry said.

“And with Dumbledore gone…” Hermione started to say but was cut off.

“Good Afternoon,” Snape announced from somewhere behind Draco, startling the children. “Now, what would four young Gryffindors, such as yourselves, be doing inside on a day like this?”

Hermione and Ron looked at each other, neither having a response for the menacing professor.

“We were talking about the exams,” Draco lied, keeping eye contact with Snape.

“Is that so?” Snape replied, not really buying Draco’s excuse.

“Quite right. Did you need something Professor?” Draco asked him, refusing to allow the man to intimidate him.

If Snape was surprised, he didn’t show it. He simply looked down at Draco and advised, “You might want to be careful. People will think you’re… up to something.”

With the ominous warning in the air, Snape walked away. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco could see Harry was watching Snape with a piercing glare.

“Now what do we do?” Hermione whispered desperately.

“We go down the trap door. Tonight,” Harry proclaimed.

______________________

Draco, Ron, and Harry waited until they knew that the rest of their dorm mates were asleep. Their cue to leave was Dean's loud snores that would cover the noise of the squeaky wooden door as they tip-toed out of the dormitory. Harry grabbed the invisibility cloak and the boys met Hermione in the Common Room. They were just about to sneak out when they heard the croak of a toad.

“Trevor,” Draco stated, annoyed by the amphibian sitting on the arm of a red, velvet chair.

“Shh! Go! You shouldn’t be here!” Ron whispered aggressively.

“Neither should you,” came a voice from the same chair. Neville revealed himself to the quartet, blocking their exit. “You’re sneaking out again, aren’t you?”

“Neville, listen. We were-” Harry tried to explain but was interrupted.

“No! I won’t let you! You’ll get Gryffindor into trouble again! I’ll… I’ll fight you!” Neville stuttered, holding up his fists.

“Alright,” Draco agreed, stepping forward to accept Neville’s challenge before, Hermione held up her arm. Draco observed that clever glint in her eye that appeared when she had figured out a tricky problem or come up with an ingenious plan.

She turned to address Longbottom. “Neville, I’m really, really, sorry about this.” She drew her wand. “Petrificus Totalus.”

Before any of the boys could blink, a whisp of white-light shot from the end of Hermione’s 10 ¾ inch Vine wood and dragon heartstring wand. The spell snapped Neville’s arms to his side, locking his legs, and freezing him in place. The full body binding curse paralyzed the poor boy, causing him to sway back and forth before falling straight backwards onto the rug. Not breaking eye contact with her target, Hermione twirled her wand before returning it to her pocket.

“You’re a little scary sometimes, you know that?” Ron whispered frightened by Hermione’s spell work.  

“You’re absolutely brilliant, Hermione Granger,” Draco declared in wonderment, his open admiration, causing the witch to blush.

“Let’s go,” Harry said, marching past Neville.

The cloak was just large enough to fit all four of them as they made their way to the third-floor corridor. Like last time, Hermione unlocked the door allowing them to step inside. A harp was magically playing in the corner, evidence that Snape had already been there and lulled Fluffy to sleep with the soothing tune. Harry handed the cloak to Draco to hang on to before they cautiously approached the three-headed dog. The boys picked up a corner of the paw over the trap door, and carefully pushed it out of the way. Hermione pulled the door open so the four could look inside.

“Can you see anything?” Ron asked.

With negative replies all around, Harry decided to prove once again why he had been sorted into the house of the brave. “I’m going to drop down. If anything, bad happens, get yourselves out.”

The other three nodded as Harry lowered himself through the hole and disappeared into the black abyss. Draco could barely hear when Harry hit the bottom, since the impact sounded like Harry had landed on something soft, similar to plopping on a bouncy mattress.

“It’s alright!” Harry called up to the other three a few seconds later. “It’s a soft landing!”

Ron jumped next dropping down near Harry. Hermione was hesitant, her brain overthinking the simple task.

“Are you okay?” Draco asked her, noticing the slight hitch in her breathing. He could tell she was trying to mentally stop the panic attack before it began.

“I’m scared,” she admitted, not taking her eyes off the black hole.  

Draco held out his hand to her. “Together?”

Hermione looked over at him, her breath slightly labored from staring into the darkness. Nodding, she reached out, coming back to herself as she made contact.

“Close your eyes. When I count to three… jump,” Draco ordered, squeezing her hand.

Hermione nodded, whispering. “I trust you.”

The cold air rushed past their ears as they fell through the hole. The impact of the fall caused them to break apart, before landing on the soft black, vine like plant. Draco looked around to see they had fallen into a pit in an underground chamber.

“Lucky this plant thing was here, really,” Ron exclaimed.

“Lucky?!” Hermione screeched, the greenery came to life and tried to latch on to her ankle. She scurried up the side, managing to get free from the plant before it could truly grab her. She pulled Draco along with her, saving him from twisty vines. They were leaning against a stone wall watching Harry and Ron struggling in plant’s grip.

“Stop moving, both of you! That’s Devil’s snare,” Hermione called out. “You need to relax or it will kill you faster.”

“Kill us faster? Oh, now I’m really relaxed,” Ron shouted sarcastically.

“Shut up, Ronald! I’m trying to remember how to kill it!” Hermione yelled at him.

“Professor Sprout said something in Herbology one day…” Draco said trying to recall the rhyme. “Devil’s Snare, Devil’s Snare…”

“It’s deadly fun but will sulk in the sun! That’s it, Draco! Devil’s Snare hates sunlight!” Hermione confirmed.

Draco drew his wand. “I know just the spell, Lumus Solem.”

A huge burst of yellow-white sunlight shot from Draco’s wand. The spell caused the plant to immediately recede freeing the boys.

“Are you two, okay?” Draco asked, helping Harry out of the pit while Hermione helped Ron.

“Woo, luckily we didn’t panic,” Ron denied, trying to play off his momentary freak out.

Hermione rolled her eyes when Harry corrected, “You’re lucky Hermione paid attention in Herbology and Draco paid attention in Charms.”

“Well, now what?” Ron asked.

“This way,” Harry said pointing down a narrow passage way. The only direction to go was forward.

The quartet found themselves inside a large, underground chamber. Looking up into the high arching ceiling, they could see small, jewel-like birds fluttering and tumbling around in the air. The rustling and clinking of their feathers echoed throughout the room.

“Curious, I’ve never seen birds like these,” Hermione mused.  

“They’re not birds. They’re keys,” Harry pointed out. They had walked to the center of the room to find two broom sticks suspended in midair.

“I bet you one of them fits that door,” Draco said nodding his head towards the tall, cathedral door.

Ron pulled out his wand, determinedly strutting to the door. Pointing at the lock he cried out, “Alohomora!”

He tugged on the handle a few times, but the door did not budge. Draco snorted at Ron’s failed spell, causing the redhead to shrug and defend himself. “Well, it was worth a try!”

“A bit obvious, isn’t it? Two of you need to fly up to catch the key,” Hermione guessed.

Ron hummed, assessing the lock on the door. “You’re looking for a big, old-fashioned one. Probably silver like the handle, here.”

“Not up for a little broom ride then, Weasley?” Draco teased.

“Hey, I tried unlocking the door, Mate. It’s your turn,” Ron jested back. Harry, Draco, and Ron chuckled at the joke.

Hermione grunted. “Boys, focus! There must be a thousand keys up there!”

Heeding Hermione’s order, Draco gripped and mounted one of the brooms while Harry snapped up the other. The two flew up and into the mess of keys, looking for the one that Ron described. For anyone less trained, the keys would have been impossible to catch as they darted and dashed through the air, but not Harry and Draco. Ron made a comment to Hermione that the two were exceptional flyers. If it wasn’t for the fact that Harry was the Gryffindor Seeker, then the boys would have been ideal Chasers.

“Harry! There! The fat one with the broken wing,” Draco shouted pointing at the key in question.

“Circle it and then whoever gets closer, grab it!” Harry strategized. Together, they dove after the key, Harry streaking to the left while Draco rounded to the right. The effect created a tornado, trapping the key inside the funnel. Harry reached out first, but lost his balance and tumbled into a barrel roll, missing the target. The force of the spiral pushed the key towards Draco, who barely managed to grasp one of its wings.

“Hermione!” Draco called out, diving down to throw her the key. By the time Harry and Draco had landed back on the ground, Hermione had the door open.

Chapter Text

The next chamber was so dark that the quartet could barely see where they were going. As they stepped further in, the room suddenly illuminated to reveal they were standing in the middle of a giant chessboard. The pieces were carved of pristine white and black marble, set up before the start of a game. Hermione shivered when she saw that none of the pieces had faces.

“What do you think we do?” Harry asked.

“I think it’s a bit obvious, Harry,” Draco stated.

“It is?” Hermione retorted.

“We have to play our way across the board,” Ron pointed out, turning to address the rest. “Looks like we are going to have to take the place of some of the black pieces.”

“That’s crazy, Ron!” Draco cried out. “Us? As pieces? And I assume you’re going to call the moves?”

“I think that’s a bit obvious, Draco,” Harry repeated back to the blond wizard.

“Ron’s, arguably, the best chess player at Hogwarts. If anyone can win, it’s him,” Hermione reasoned.

Oblivious to their interplay, Ron surveyed the board with the eyes of an experienced tactician, weighing the relative merits of substituting themselves for the various pieces. Having come to a decision, the redhead commanded, “Right, Draco you are going to be the queen’s side castle. Harry, take the place of the king’s bishop. Hermione, you’ll be the queen. As for me… I’ll be a knight.”

The chessmen appeared to have been listening to Ron’s instruction, because the pieces he indicated immediately forfeited their places on the board. The quartet calmly walked to the spaces vacated by the life-sized pieces.

“What happens now?” Hermione asked. She felt uneasy and was not entirely familiar with the game.

“Well, white moves first. And then… we play,” Ron forewarned.

Every one’s attention snapped to the center of the board at the sound of scraping marble. A white pawn advanced two spaces.

Ron was thinking about his first move when Draco asked, “Ron… you don’t suppose this is going to be like wizard’s chess, do you?”

“You there! D-5!” Ron shouted, pointing at one of the pawns to test Draco’s hypothesis.

The four watched in anticipation as their side took up a position diagonal from the white piece. Once it was within striking distance, the white pawn drew his swords and savaged the black pawn.

Hermione screamed. Harry and Draco stared at the shattered debris in shock. Ron gulped before turning to face Draco. “Yes, mate. This is going to be exactly like wizard’s chess.”

“Merlin, Weasley. Don’t get me killed,” Draco muttered to himself.

Move by Move, Ron directed the black side, careful to keep his friends out of harm’s way. The white team showed no mercy in the taking of the black team’s pieces. Draco mostly kept his focus on Hermione. He was agitated every time Weasley moved her. Why did he have to make her the most powerful and useful piece in the game? She suffered a few cuts from shattering marble, but other than that, she remained safe. He jumped when the white queen smashed the other black castle before knocking its remains off the board.  

“Nearly there… it had to happen,” Ron muttered to himself as the white queen finished her turn.

“Wait a minute!” Harry exclaimed suddenly.

“Then you understand, Harry. It’s the only way,” Ron implored. “Once I make my move, the queen will take me. Then you’re free to check the king.”

“No, Ron!” Harry yelled.

“What is it?” Hermione questioned from her corner of the board.

“He’s going to sacrifice himself!” Harry explained.

“You can’t do that!” Draco shouted.

“There must be another way!” Hermione insisted.

Ron looked them each in the eye. “Do you want to stop Snape from getting that stone, or not?” Then, directly addressing his raven-haired companion, Ron revealed, “It’s you that has to go on, Harry. Not me. Not Hermione. Not Draco. You.”

Regardless of, whether the friends liked the decision or not, they watched with bated breath as Ron held on to the reins and told the horse to advance to H-3. The redhead softly whispered check. As soon as the move was complete, the white queen pounced onto Ron’s position. Her stone sword stabbed the side, shattering the piece. As Ron fell, a broken chunk of marble hit him in the head, knocking him unconscious.  

Hermione screamed at the sight of Ron’s unmoving figure sprawled on the chessboard. She almost walked off her square to go help him when Draco howled, “Don’t move, Hermione!”

“We’re still playing,” Harry shouted angrily. Hermione stayed where she was as Harry moved three spaces diagonally towards the white king. “Checkmate!”

The king took off his crown and threw it at Harry’s feet. They had won the game.

Immediately, the three friends moved to Ron’s side, with Hermione checking his pulse. Relieved to hear a heartbeat, Harry steeled himself for what lay ahead. “Ron’s right. I have to keep going.”

Draco nodded. “Hermione, should go with you. I’ll take Ron back through to the key room and get him help.”

“Draco, are you sure?” Hermione asked, concern laced her voice.

He softly smiled, attempting to reassure her. “Don’t worry. I’ve got this. You take care of Harry, but more importantly, please… take care of yourself.”

The firelight reflected off the chessboard, casting a warm glow over Draco’s entire face. Hermione could see the hidden distress in her friend’s gorgeous grey eyes, which created this inexplicable need to comfort him before facing the next challenge. Leaning forward, she firmly wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him in a tight hug. Tilting her chin, Hermione whispered in Draco's ear. "You're a great wizard, Draco Malfoy."

Draco pulled out her hold, a soft smirk on his face. "Not as good as you."

Hermione smiled, rolling her eyes. "Me? Books and cleverness? There are more important things, like friendship and bravery."

"Yes, I suppose I emulate all those qualities. Quite spectacularly I might add," he playfully boasted, earning him a laugh and soft punch in the arm from Hermione. There was a brief silence before Draco directed his head in Harry's direction. "You should go. Harry's waiting for you."

Nodding her head, Hermione only hesitated for a moment. "Just be careful," she said before disappearing with Harry. Draco didn't know how long he stared at the door lost in his worry over his friends when he heard Ron make a combination of a moaning and snoring sound.

“Alright, Weasley. Time to wake up,” Draco said to himself as he pointed his wand at the red head. “Rennervate.”

Ron’s eyes shot open. He groaned again, clutching his head and mumbling, “What happened?”

“Did you hit your head that hard? You got knocked off a knight playing a game of chess. We have to get to the owlery right now and send for Dumbledore. Up you go, Weasley,” Draco ordered, helping Ron to his feet.

“My head hurts,” Ron complained. He was still really weak and needed Draco to support him. They hobbled all the way to where they had left the brooms in the underground chamber with the charmed keys.

“Just get me to the other broom, Mate,” Ron moaned, dizzily.

“Don’t be stupid, Weasley. You can’t even stand on your own. Besides, we have to leave one for Harry and Hermione,” Draco explained calmly, struggling a bit to get Ron to mount the handle. They flew up into the air, back the way they had come, straight through the trapped door. Draco had made it all the way to the entrance hall when he saw Dumbledore standing in the middle of the room.

“He’s gone after the stone, hasn’t he?”

“Yes, Professor. Please hurry! Hermione is with him, but…” Draco’s rambling trailed off as Dumbledore left.

“Malfoy, I think I’m going to be sick…” Ron muttered, barely hanging on to the suspended broom.

“Oh no you don’t! Not until we get to the hospital wing,” Draco stipulated. “We’re almost there… only one more flight of stairs to go.”

No one was inside the ward when they entered. It was eerily quiet as the light from the breaking dawn filled up the elongated room through the tall stained-glass windows along the east wall. Draco had just deposited Ron on the bed closest to the door when a shrill, elderly voice sounded behind him.

“What is the meaning of this!?”

Draco gasped. “He’s been hurt, ma’am. I used a reviving charm on him, but… I think he has a concussion.”

The nurse, Madam Pomfrey, pulled out her wand and ran a diagnostic spell over Ron’s body. She clucked her tongue as she rummaged in a medicine cabinet in the back of the wing. She returned with a clear vial. “I don’t suppose you are going to tell me how you two got your wounds?”

“Trust me, ma’am. You wouldn’t believe me if I did,” Draco replied as Madam Pomfrey administered the potion.

“There, that should help him recover. He will be right as rain in a day. You, young man, are going to lay here next to him while I heal your cuts and bruises,” she ordered, pointing at the bed to the left of Ron’s.

The nurse just had started her treatment when Hermione burst into the hospital wing followed closely by Professors McGonagall and Snape.

“Professor, please! You have to get to Harry and the Stone!”

“Not another word, Miss Granger. Professor Dumbledore is handling it,” came McGonagall’s terse reply as she directed her charge toward one of the beds. “I’m afraid you have another patient, Poppy.”

“We will expect explanations from you three once you have recovered from your injuries,” Snape interjected, looking between the three Gryffindors. The Professors left without another word.

Madam Pomfrey had just finished casting a few basic healing spells on Draco and Hermione when she instructed, “Now, I’m setting monitoring charms on the beds, so I’ll know if you get up. You are to rest here for at least a few hours. If you show no more symptoms then you will be permitted to leave the ward.”

Once she left the wing, Draco rolled over to face Hermione. “Are you alright, love? What happened?”

Hermione smiled, looking at Draco. “I’m okay. But if I tell you, then you have to promise not to be too angry at me.”

Taking a deep breath, Draco said, “Alright. I promise.”

“So, we know that pretty much all the professors were involved in setting traps to prevent someone from getting to the stone. Professor Sprout grew the Devil’s Snare. Professor Flitwick charmed the keys…”

“And Professor McGonagall transfigured the chess pieces. But what about Quirrell and Snape?”

“The mountain troll from Halloween was passed out in the next chamber. After Harry and I crept by the creature, we found ourselves trapped in a very small room. The doorway behind us was blocked by purple flames and the door to the next room was engulfed in blue flames. The only way for us to get through was by drinking the correct potion, and the only way we would know which of the seven vials to choose was by solving a puzzle. According to the riddle, two of the bottles were wine; one bottle would let us pass through the blue flames and another would let us go back through the purple flames,” she explained.

“And what about the other three?” Draco asked tentatively.

“They were supposedly poison,” she replied quietly.

Draco gasped. “Poison!?”

“You said you weren’t going to get mad,” Hermione reminded him.

“I promised I wouldn’t get too angry,” Draco corrected her. “Hermione… what if you had guessed wrong?”

“I didn’t guess. I solved it…using logic. Besides, aren’t you the one that’s always telling me how clever I am?” she raised an eyebrow at him, daring Draco to argue with her. When he didn’t, she continued. “There wasn’t enough in the vial for both of us to cross the blue flames, so Harry went on, and I returned through the purple flames. I ran into Dumbledore just outside the third-floor corridor, and he suggested I wake up Professor McGonagall. She summoned Professor Snape, and he met us on the way to the Hospital Wing.”

“We were wrong about, Snape,” Draco stated, confused but relieved that his former mentor was not working for Voldemort.

“We were, but then, that leaves the mystery of who was actually after the stone,” Hermione admitted with a yawn.

“I’m sure we’ll find out in a few hours. Let’s get some rest.”

It felt like Draco had just closed his eyes when he was awoken by the sound of Harry being placed in a bed next to Hermione, completely passed out. Madam Pomfrey cleared Draco and Hermione to leave the wing, but Ron had to wait until tomorrow morning to make sure he was completely healed from his concussion. After being released, the two cleaned up and headed to the Great Hall for lunch. When they entered the hall, everyone stopped eating, and all eyes watched as they took their seats at the Gryffindor table.

“Why is everyone staring at us?” Hermione whispered.

“Do you think they know?” Draco replied.  

“Oh, everyone knows,” Fred answered mischievously.

“And we want to hear all about it!” George insisted, leaning in closer to hear the epic tale.

_____________________________

Harry woke up three days later, just in time for the end of year feast. Prior to the meal, Ron, Hermione, and Draco visited him in the hospital wing to tell him what happened and to hear how he faced Quirrell. They learned that Voldemort had been living off the man like a parasite. That it was the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor who had let the troll in the dungeon, tried to kill Harry at the Quidditch match, and sought the stone in order to bring his master back. Despite how grim the information was, it was nice to hear the truth instead of the crazy rumors circulating around the school.

That night, the Great Hall was decorated in silver and green as an homage to Slytherin for winning the house cup last year. This year would be their seventh consecutive win.  Banners hung from the ceiling displaying the house crest, its snake mascot represented prominently in the design. Everyone was seated, chatting animatedly when McGonagall clinked her glass to call the room to order.

“Another year gone,” Dumbledore’s regal tone echoed through the hall, commanding the attention of the students. “And now, as I understand it, the house cup needs awarding. And the points stand thus: In fourth place, Gryffindor with 262 points.”

Polite applause sounded throughout the room. Harry and Ron ducked their heads in shame, while Draco and Hermione frowned as Dumbledore continued. “Third place, Hufflepuff with 352 points. In second place, Ravenclaw with 426 points. And finally, with 472 points, Slytherin house.”

Everyone clapped for each house after their totals were announced, but Slytherin was excessive in their celebration as they loudly cheered and banged their goblets on the table. Draco caught Theo’s eye, nodding his head in acknowledgement of the Slytherin’s victory. In an unsurprising demonstration of sportsmanship, or lack thereof, the other wizard made a great production of sniggering at his former friend, reveling in his own win and mocking Gryffindor’s epic loss. There was a part of Draco that wanted to be angry, but after everything they’d been through, it all seemed so petty. When the merriment subsided, Dumbledore continued his announcement.

“Yes, yes… well done, Slytherin. However, recent events must be taken into account. And I have a few last-minute points to award.”

The whole room stilled as they listened to the unexpected additions.  

“First, to Miss Hermione Granger, for the use of cool intellect when others were in grave peril. I award Gryffindor house 50 points.”

The majority of the room burst into applause, the compliment making Hermione blush a deep red. Draco clapped and cheered the loudest for her. She jokingly slapped his arm, telling him to stop making such a scene, even though deep down she was appreciative.

“Second, to Mr. Ronald Weasley, for the best-played game of chess that Hogwarts has seen these many years… 50 points!”

Ron plastered a huge smile on his face, his siblings hollering their encouragement at their brother’s achievement.

“Third, to Mr. Draco Malfoy, for unwavering fidelity in times of intolerable trials…50 points.”  

Hermione, Ron, and Harry enthusiastically applauded for their friend. The rest of the hall rang with genuine joy, as the members of the house of lions finally accepted the pureblooded wizard into their home.

“And fourth, to Mr. Harry Potter. For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house 60 points.”

Smiles spread across Gryffindor table as everyone whispered excitedly at the news. In less than five minutes, they had jumped from last place to being tied with Slytherin.

“Finally, it takes a great deal of courage to stand up to your enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to your friends. I award 10 points to Mr. Neville Longbottom,” Dumbledore concluded.

The hall echoed with resounding cheers and more applause. Neville’s jaw dropped, stunned by the school- wide recognition from the Headmaster. He didn’t wake from his stupor until Draco patted him on the back, congratulating him.

“Assuming my calculations are correct…I believe a change in décor is in order,” Dumbledore declared, raising his arms. The colors shifted from the sliver and green to gold and red. The banners that once shown the pit viper magically transformed to display a proud, male lion.

“Gryffindor wins the house cup!”

It was a great night to be a Gryffindor! People jumped from their seats and embraced their classmates, the delight over the surprise victory and triumph of having defeated the standing champion was contagious. Many people came over to shake hands and congratulate the golden quartet on their achievements. Blaise and Theo sneered at Draco, claiming that the house cup had been stolen. The rest of Slytherin house agreed and protested the verdict by not participating in the celebrations, as the majority felt that they were the rightful winners. Draco was not paying attention to the complaints, opting to enjoy his last night of the school year. He didn’t notice the desiderium that clouded Theo’s eyes as the young Slytherin slowly accepted he had completely and utterly lost his childhood best friend.

______________________

The Hogwarts Express had just pulled out of Hogsmeade Station on course to Kings Cross. Harry, Ron, Draco, and Hermione were sitting in a compartment, each holding a piece of parchment.

“Well, I passed,” Ron sighed in relief, Harry nodded at his sentiment. It was practically a miracle that the boy-who-lived was able to concentrate on his exams while simultaneously trying to stop a dark wizard’s resurrection. Draco and Hermione were being more secretive about their grades, and were anxious to see who actually won top spot of their year.

“On the count of three, we trade,” Draco said to Hermione. The two were holding their end of year scores close to their chests.

“Deal. One…” Hermione started the count down.

“Two…” Draco said after her.

“Oi! Will you two just get on with it already!” Ron cried out impatiently.

“Three!” Hermione and Draco declared at the same time, trading the report cards.

“Oh my, word!” she exclaimed looking over Draco’s card a second time. “I can’t believe it!”

“What?” Harry asked, equally as impatient as Ron.

Draco smiled. “We tied.”

“You two tied for top student in our year? Is that even possible?” Ron asked in disbelief.

Hermione nodded. “Our overall scores are exactly the same, just in different subjects. Draco scored Outstanding in Flying and Potions, where I scored Exceeds Expectations…”

“But I scored Exceeds Expectations in History of Magic and Transfiguration whereas Hermione got an Outstanding in each,” Draco summed up.

“So, the scores evened out?” Harry concluded.

“But… what does that mean for our bet?” Ron asked Harry.

“Bet? Are you joking?” Hermione complained.

“Right now, I wish we were,” Harry said seeing the look of ire on Hermione’s face.

Draco laughed. “You guys can just call this a draw.”

The quartet laughed wholeheartedly before the reality set in that they wouldn’t see each other until September. It was Hermione who voiced that depressing thought. “It feels weird to be going home, doesn’t it?”

Harry smiled affectionately at his friends. “I’m not going home. Not really.”

End of Year One

Chapter Text

“It is the only way, Cissa,” Draco heard his father hiss to his mother. He was standing on top of the staircase, careful not to lean too far around the corner as he listened to the hushed conversation.  Since the beginning of the summer, his parents had been acting overly vigilant every time he walked into a room like they were hiding something from Draco he was not supposed to know.

“You will not! I repeat, not… give that… object to Draco! We have no idea what dark magic the dark lord has imbedded into it!” Narcissa Malfoy hissed back to her husband.

“All I am aware of is that this will reopen…” Lucius tried to reason with his wife, but she cut him off before Draco could learn what they were talking about.

“I don’t care what it does! The fact of the matter is you will not give it to Draco to smuggle into the school. You will not do anything to endanger our son, or so help me, Lucius…” Narcissa started to hyperventilate. Had Draco peeked from his hiding spot, he would have seen his father trying to comfort his mother. He could hear his father shushing her, calming her down.

“Alright, Cissa. I won’t give it to Draco. I’ll find some other way to get it into the castle. Regardless, I must dispose of the object,” Lucius reassured.

Draco’s eyes widened upon hearing the disturbing statement. Even though he didn’t have all the facts, there was enough evidence that he had to act. Securing his bedroom door, he quickly shouted out, “Dobby!”

With a brisk pop, Dobby, the Malfoy family house elf, appeared before Draco.

“Master Draco called for Dobby?” the elf replied. Typical for his kind, he had a long-pointed nose and floppy years. He was short and very skinny, his bones semi-visible even under the worn, dirty potato sack that signified his status.

Dobby and his lineage had served the Malfoy family for many generations. Being an only child, Draco grew bored of manor’s cold walls, and Dobby was more than happy to entertain the young heir. The two were very close and spent lots of time together until his father found out and forbid the two from ever personally interacting outside a master/slave relationship.

Despite the fear of punishment for both of them, Draco continued his friendship with Dobby. When Draco returned from Hogwarts after his first year, he was sad to see Dobby sporting new bruises and scars (at the hand of his father’s cruelty, no doubt). Lucius Malfoy took the stance that elves were creatures and thus below the status of wizards. They existed solely for servitude and held no other value. It was a stance, among others, that Draco disagreed with ardently.

After catching Dobby up on his adventures at Hogwarts, the elf informed Draco that his father had been meeting with several dark wizards coming and going from the property as if they were meeting and planning something ominous concerning Harry. Dobby had provided Draco with little information, only that Lucius was a part of a sinister plot that could shut down Hogwarts. Draco urged Dobby to keep spying on his father and monitor Harry for any suspicious activity. Now, it appeared his father’s plan was ready to be set in motion, and it was time to warn Harry.

“Dobby. I need you to do me a favor,” Draco commanded, a sense of urgency evident in his tone.

“What’s master Draco needing?” Dobby asked.

“I need you to find Harry Potter and warn him.”

________________

Harry quickly ran up the stairs of 4 Privet Drive, fleeing to the spare bedroom converted from Dudley’s old toy room to the space he now got to sleep in. While the room wasn’t as ornate or homely as the Gryffindor dormitories at Hogwarts, it was unquestionably an improvement from the cupboard under the staircase. Tonight, Harry was to stay as quiet as possible and pretend he didn't exist while the Dursleys entertained the Masons. He was contemplating how to keep Hedwig, his snowy-white owl, occupied to avoid his Uncle’s ire when he opened the door and gasped. Jumping up and down on his bed was an unknown magical creature.

At the sight of the infamous wizard, Dobby squeaked out, “Harry Potter! Such an honor, it is.”

Slowly, Harry quietly shut the door. “Who are you?”

“Dobby, Sir. Dobby the house elf.”

“Not to be rude or anything, but this isn’t a great time to have a house-elf in my bedroom,” Harry said perturbed.

“Oh yes, Sir. Dobby understands, Sir. It’s just that Master Draco has sent Dobby here to tell you…it is...difficult, Sir. Dobby wonders where to begin.”

Harry raised his eyebrows at the mention of Draco’s name. He hadn’t heard from him or any of his friends all summer. The Dursleys refused to let Hedwig out of her cage, leaving Harry unable to send his own correspondence. Which meant he was relying solely on his friends to keep in touch. As the weeks of the holiday continued to pass without any word, Harry became sad and disappointed, wondering why no one had written. Now, things were making sense. Something serious must have happened in the Wizarding World for Draco to send a house elf instead of an owl. Harry gestured to the bed. “Well, why don’t you sit down.”

“Sit…sit down?” Dobby started wailing. Thick tears easily flowed from his large, tennis ball-shaped eyes. 

“Shh… Dobby! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you or anything!” Harry quipped, frantically trying to get Dobby to quiet down.

“Offend, Dobby? Master Draco has told Dobby of your greatness, Sir. But…never has he been asked to sit down by another wizard… like an equal,” Dobby explained.

“You can’t have met many decent wizards then,” Harry replied, kindly smiling.

“No, I haven’t,” Dobby squeaked. The little elf’s face dropped as he walked over to Harry’s tall dresser. “That was an awful thing to say.”

Dobby started to bang his head against the drawers, the rattling making lots of noise that Harry thought for sure the Dursleys would hear downstairs.

“Stop! Dobby, Stop!” Harry pleaded. After a few more hits, Dobby ceased the self-inflicted punishment and walked dazedly over to Harry’s desk stool. The young wizard looked upon the creature with concern. “Are you alright?”

“Dobby had to punish himself, Sir. Dobby spoke ill of his family, Sir,” the elf explained.

“Your family?” Harry asked, confused.

“The wizard family Dobby serves, Sir. Dobby is bound to serve one family, the Malfoy family, forever. Master Draco told Dobby to come. You see, Dobby has to protect Harry Potter; To warn him! Harry Potter must not come back to Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry this year. There is a plot, a plot to make most terrible things happen.”

“What terrible things? Who’s plotting them?” Harry pried.

Dobby started to grunt and groaned as he realized his mistake. Lucius forbade him from telling anyone of the sinister scheme being developed, even from Master Draco. In haste, the elf grabbed the closest thing within his grasp and started to hit himself in the head with a lamp.

“Okay, I’m sorry. You can’t tell me!” Harry wrestled with Dobby trying to stop him, but by the time Harry had managed to get Dobby to release the lamp, it was too late. Harry's visitor had made too much noise, and Uncle Vernon was stomping his way up the stairs.

The young wizard picked up Dobby and threw him in his closet, frantically warning the house elf to keep quiet just before Uncle Vernon opened the bedroom door.

“What the devil are you doing up here, boy? Do you think this is a joke?” Uncle Vernon interrogated with menacing eyes.

“Sorry, Sir,” Harry apologized as he leaned against the closet door, trying to keep Dobby from opening it.

“One more sound, and you’ll wish you hadn’t been born, boy!” Uncle Vernon left in a huff, his threat looming over Harry, who stepped away from his closet and let Dobby tumble out.

“You see why I have to go back? I don’t belong here. I belong in your world. At Hogwarts. It’s the only place I got friends.”

“Friends that don’t even write to Harry Potter?” Dobby questioned.

“Well, I bet… Hang on. How do you know my friends haven’t been writing?” Harry asked the elf accusatorily.

Dobby backed away from Harry, putting his hands behind his back and lowering his head in admission. “Harry Potter mustn’t be angry with Dobby. Master Draco told Dobby to protect Harry Potter. So, Dobby thought that if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him, Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, Sir.”

Harry watched as Dobby rationalized his misguided orders while the house elf pulled out a stack of letters addressed to the young Gryffindor. He allowed his anger to bubble up as he held out his hand and demanded that Dobby hand them over.

“NO!” Dobby yelled, tucking Harry’s letters back inside his potato sack covering. The house elf bolted through the bedroom door and darted down the stairs, stopping at the kitchen threshold. Simultaneously, Harry and Dobby made eye contact with the dessert that was sitting on the counter.

“Dobby! Get back here!” Harry whispered frantically.

The house elf shook his head with a mischievous glint in his eye as he snapped his fingers, causing the cake to float in the air magically. 

Harry watched in horror as the cake levitated. “Dobby! Please, no!”

“Harry Potter must say that he is not going back to school!” Dobby threatened in a low tone.

“I can’t!” Harry whispered back desperately. “Hogwarts is my home.”

“Then Dobby must do it, Sir. For Harry Potter’s so good!” Dobby uttered as he snapped his fingers again, making the cake float towards the family room.

Harry pushed past Dobby in a fleeting attempt to stop the floating cake from dropping on Mrs. Mason’s head. His hands were outstretched as he tried to grab the dessert without being noticed. The Dursleys prayed silently, the fear evident across their faces as they watched the scene with bated breath. Before Harry could stop the mischief that Dobby caused, the house elf snapped his fingers a third time. The cake dropped all over Mrs. Mason’s head, coating her in the ruined delicacy. 

Uncle Vernon started to fake sob as he lied about what transpired. Harry turned around and gave Dobby a cross look just as the elf disappeared, presumably returning to Malfoy Manor.

________________

After the events that unfolded at the Dursleys, Lucius summoned Dobby away from the manor, keeping the elf from updating Draco until a few days later. When the house elf eventually popped into the bedroom, he found the young master on his bed reading a muggle book that Hermione had gifted Draco. 

“How did it go? Did you warn him? How is he doing?” Draco bombarded the elf with questions.

“Dobby protected Harry Potter. He will not be going back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,” Dobby boasted as he hopped up on Draco’s bed.

“Not going back? Dobby… what did you do?” Draco asked skeptically.

After Dobby explained what happened, Draco’s jaw dropped. “That is… not what I meant.... You stole his mail?”

“Yes! Dobby’s most ingenious idea!” the elf puffed his chest a little in pride of his cleverness.

“And you used magic in front of muggles?”

“No, no, Master Draco. Just enough so that Harry Potter will be safe and not go back to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He is locked away, nice and safe,” Dobby confirmed. 

“Locked away?” Draco parroted, his eyes widening. Just what exactly did Dobby do? Had Harry been arrested? No, that couldn't be, for surly the Daily Prophet would have reported if the boy-who-lived had been sentenced. He knew Dobby meant well, but sometimes his creativity for orders went one step too far.

“Oh yes! The fat ugly muggle put bars on Harry Potter’s window. I checked before coming back to the manor,” the elf replied.

Draco sighed in relief before he fixed his troubling friend with a stern look. “Dobby, can you leave the letters on my desk. And… I think Mini was looking for you while you were out." 

“Yes, Master Draco,” the elf replied. After Dobby disappeared, Draco wrote a brief letter before opening his balcony door and whistling for his owl. The black barn owl came soaring over and perched itself on the railing before grabbing the letter from Draco’s hand.

“Take this to the Burrow, Ron Weasley. Now!” Draco ordered, shooing the bird off into the night. He hoped that Ron and the rest of the Weasleys would be able to help Harry. Merlin knows what else the Dursleys would do to Harry after Dobby dropped the cake on the muggle woman. The letter just had to be enough to push Ron into action.

Harry is in trouble!

Long story short, it’s my fault, and I need your help.

The Dursleys have locked him away and won’t let him go to Hogwarts.

I can’t sneak out, but I know you and your brothers can.

Rescue him. Please!

-Draco

__________________________

The Malfoys were sitting at the grand dining room table having breakfast when Mini came into the room and presented a letter to Lucius on a silver tray.

“Oh, and what do we have here,” Lucius casually remarked as he picked the letter up. He carefully unfolded the contents. “Well, well. Draco’s school supplies list. Is it that time already?”

“May I see it, Father?” Draco asked, curious to see what books he would need for the new term.

“In a moment. I just wanted to see what materials the headmaster has required for your second year.”

Lucius was studying the letter intently. After a few moments, the affluent man clucked his tongue before handing the letter to Draco. “These texts are just not on par with the rest of Europe. At this rate, Draco will require more summer tutoring just to keep up with Durmstrang.” 

“I’m sure you could bring it up to the Board of Governors at the next meeting,” Narcissa  suggested politely after noticing her son’s slight wince at Lucius’s threat of more private tutors.

“I have tried. These were the texts that won the majority. The newer members wanted more… economically standardized reading to accommodate those who cannot afford the better materials,” Lucius said, his voice laced with disdain.

The Malfoys had a long history of ancient pureblood magic, which allotted them enormous wealth and status in the Wizarding World. Draco knew he was lucky. His mother had been involved in a substantial amount of charity work when he was growing up and often forced Draco to participate in her causes. Narcissa believed that it was paramount to raise her son to be aware of the world he lived in and the responsibility of his status. His appreciation for his title and wealth only grew after Hogwarts. He recognized that there were families like Ron’s who were not as wealthy and couldn’t always afford new supplies each year. Hermione’s family didn’t have to struggle (on account of the fact that her parents made enough in their profession that they were not grossly impacted by the exchange rate from muggle currency to Galleons), but not all muggleborn families were that fortunate. Unlike his father, Draco didn’t think that the privileges his family enjoyed meant that he was better than others.

“We should probably make the purchases sooner rather than later,” commented Narcissa.

“I have some business in Knockturn Alley later this morning. Perhaps we can stop in Diagon and pick-up Draco’s things,” Lucius responded to his wife.

“I would like that very much,” Draco interjected carefully, trying to hide his excitement about going to London. If he had gotten his list today, then that meant Hermione, Harry, and the Weasleys did as well. Internally, he was hoping to see them as well. 

__________________________

When the Malfoys arrived in Diagon Alley, Lucius broke off to attend his appointment while Narcissa took Draco to Flourish and Blotts to collect his school books. Draco was nervous about possibly seeing his friends again. He was worried Ron hadn’t received his letter. Anxious to know if Harry had gotten rescued or learn he wouldn’t be on the train. He was the most nervous about seeing Hermione after a few months. The two corresponded continuously by owl, but it was just better to see her in person. 

“Who is the gift for?” Narcissa prodded as she looked down at her son, holding a neatly wrapped squared package. Draco blushed but didn’t respond. He had been dying to give this to Hermione all summer. It was a book about the formation of the MACUSA that he thought she would find fascinating. Noticing his embarrassment, Narcissa was about to inform him she was just going to check out the fiction section upstairs when Draco turned around and saw the Weasley family standing in the store.

“Weasley!” Draco shouted, causing the entire family to turn their heads in his direction. Draco ran over with a smile on his face when he spotted Ron in front of them all. 

“Hey, Malfoy! Good to see you!” Ron said, genuinely smiling as well.

“How did it go? Did you get my letter?” Draco asked, worried about Harry.

“The operation was a success,” George replied smugly.

“Absolutely epic! We have to tell you all about it!” Fred added.

“Draco,” Narcissa called out behind him. “Are you going to introduce me to your friends?”

The young wizard hesitated only for a moment before giving introductions. “Mother, I would like to introduce you to my friend, Ron Weasley. These are his twin brothers, Fred and George, and his parents…I’m sorry. I don’t know the rest of their names.”

“Arthur and Molly, correct? And your daughter? Narcissa Malfoy. A pleasure to formally meet you,” the Malfoy matriarch nodded politely.

“That’s correct,” Arthur said, his stance stiffen as if he were on guard.

“It’s nice to see you as well, Narcissa. Yes, this is our youngest, Ginny,” Molly said, matching Narcissa’s tone and smiling back. 

“I won’t keep you from your friends, Draco. If you need me or see your father, tell him I’ll be upstairs,” Narcissa hinted as she walked away. 

Just then, Harry and Hermione walked into the shop, making their way over to Draco and the Weasleys.

“Oh, Harry! We were so worried about you. We hoped you only gone one fireplace too far,” Molly fretted as she briskly brushed off Harry’s robe.

“Draco! It’s so good to see you!” Hermione exclaimed, handing her textbooks to her father. She quickly hugged Draco before greeting the rest of the Weasleys.

While everyone exchanged pleasantries, Draco reached into his robe pocket and handed Harry his missing letters. “Sorry about that, mate. Thought you might want those.”

“Thanks, Draco,” Harry said, gratefully accepting his mail.

“I hope you’re not mad at me. Or Dobby. I didn’t tell him to steal your mail. I just said to protect you in case something happened. I’ve made a mental note to be more specific when asking him to do something,” Draco explained, giving his friend an embarrassed chuckle.

Harry smiled kindly. “It’s okay. He sounds like a good friend to have.”

Hermione and Ron gave the two a weird look until Draco said, “It’s a long story. Maybe we can tell it later after I hear how you busted Harry out of jail!”

“Ah, mate! It was seriously mental. But amazing! Wish you could have been there,” Ron lamented to Draco.

Hermione shook her head at the boys, laughing. “How is it possible that you’ve managed to get into more trouble over the summer than during our first year?”

Before the conversation could continue, the owner of the shop announced the presence of the infamous Gilderoy Lockhart. The celebrity posed, preened and smiled at the crowd of adoring fans like a peacock showcasing his feathers. Women were swooning at the wizard dressed in metallic, turquoise robes when an older wizard rushed forward with a camera claiming to be from the Daily Prophet.

“Mum fancies him,” Ron muttered to Harry and Draco, earning him a slap in the arm from Molly Weasley. 

After a couple of photographs were taken, Lockhart spotted Harry in the crowd, causing excited murmurs to filter through the shop. Before anyone could blink, the photographer grabbed Harry’s robe and pulled him forward to stand next to Lockhart.

With the moment captured for tomorrow’s front page, Lockhart turned to address the crowd. “Ladies and Gentlemen, what an extraordinary moment this is. When young Harry stepped into Flourish and Blotts this morning to purchase my autobiography, Magical Me.” He paused to allow the crowd to praise the accomplishment.  Everyone, including Molly, Ginny, and Hermione, was avidly clapping. Ron and Draco looked over the crowd in confusion at the display of adoration for the wizard when the man continued. “Which incidentally is currently celebrating its 27th week atop the Daily Prophet bestseller list. He had no idea that he would, in fact, be leaving with my entire collective works… free of charge.”

Lockhart shoved a voluminous stack of books into Harry’s hands, then smiled (seriously, can this man stop showing off his teeth?) once more at the camera as it flashed. The crowd erupted into applause one final time before gathering into a single file line to receive an autograph.

“Give me those, Harry dear, and I’ll get them signed. All of you wait outside,” Molly directed, relieving Harry from the pressures of fame.

Everyone in their group made their way to the front door. When they were finally free of the crowd, Draco looked over his shoulder to see Hermione was still flustered after seeing the famous wizard. “Oi, Granger. Lockhart isn’t all that.”

“Thank you, Malfoy! Someone had to say it,” Ron cried out, agreeing wholeheartedly with the statement.

Hermione scoffed a little, rolling her eyes. “His novels are beyond brilliant! And he is extremely accomplished! Besides, haven’t you heard? He’s going to be our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor.”

Ron and Draco simultaneously groaned at hearing the news. Hermione was about to retort to the noises of displeasure when Draco leaned over to tease her. “If you keep saying how wonderful Lockhart is, I might not give you your early birthday present.”

“What is it?” Hermione asked excitedly as she quickly unwrapped the proffered package. She gasped as she read the title. “Draco! This is a first edition! Where did you get it?”

The entire time everyone was distracted by Lockhart’s speech, no one thought to look up into the second-floor balcony to see Theo Nott and Blaise Zabini watching the interaction.

“Well, well. If it isn’t famous Harry Potter. Can’t even go into a book shop without being recognized,” Theo jeered.

“Potter and his gang of blood traitors,” Blaise taunted the group.

“Don’t forget the mudblood, Zabini,” Theo snickered. 

Draco pushed Blaise, causing the boy to stumble and knock back into Theo. “Leave her alone!”

Before Draco could lunge further at the two, he felt a pressure on his right shoulder that was all too familiar. He glanced down to see the ornate silver head of a Gabon Viper with emeralds for eyes resting harshly on his shoulder.

“Now, now Draco. Play nicely,” Lucius commanded as he examined the scene in front of him. Smiling maliciously, he spoke to Harry first. “Are these your house friends, Draco? Why I was so looking forward to being introduced. Mr. Potter. Lucius Malfoy… Forgive me.”

Before Harry could stop him, Lucius had pulled the boy-who-lived closer so that he could use his cane to move aside Harry’s bangs and examine his scar. Draco tensed up at the sight of his father’s behavior. He felt compelled to do something… like he should intervene, but he didn’t know how. Not with all these people around. He had no idea what emotions were displayed on his face when he suddenly felt someone take hold of his wrist and give it a gentle squeeze. Hermione looked up at Draco with concern, her thumb finding his pulse point as she gave it a light tap in acknowledgment that she was here for him. She gave him a small smile before turning her attention back to Harry and Lucius.

Harry had broken away from Lucius’s grip, the two in an intense stare-off and conversation about You-Know-Who.

“You must be very brave to mention his name,” Lucius stated, trying not to sneer at the boy.

“Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself,” Hermione spoke up. Draco looked over at the courage of her voice to see the hard determination in her eyes. He felt his heart flutter a little bit at the bravery she showed standing up to his father.

Lucius turned his attention towards Hermione at the sound of her defiance. He briefly glanced down to see Hermione holding Draco’s wrist before he tried to fix her with his signature intimidation stare. “And you must be, Miss Granger. Yes, Draco’s told me all about you. And your parents.”

Liar Draco internally screamed as he ducked his head to avoid his father’s shame and disgust. The entire interaction made him feel embarrassed and uncomfortable. Unlike Hermione, he didn’t know how to find his voice to stop this nonsense. Where was the Gryffindor courage when he needed it? Coward, he kept calling himself over and over again in his head. He was so wrapped up in his negative self-talk that he wouldn’t realize until later that Hermione had handled the scene without succumbing to a panic attack.

Lucius turned his gaze to where Hermione’s parents were standing and talking to Arthur Weasley. “Muggles, aren’t they?” The pureblood raised his eyebrow at her, daring Hermione to challenge him further. Draco looked up just enough to see the emotion play across his father’s face.  He expected to see a hateful glare, but instead, his father looked almost…curious? Hermione was refusing to let go of Draco while she continued to match Lucius’s stare. Despite refusing to back down from the argument, Lucius appeared to placated enough to move on and continue his assessment of Draco’s friends by humiliating the Weasleys. He had grabbed a book from Ginny’s cauldron when Arthur approached his children and suggested everyone go outside.

“Weasley Sr.,” Lucius greeted with disdain.

“Lucius,” Arthur replied in the same tone.

“Busy time at the Ministry, Arthur, with all those extra raids. I do hope the ministry is paying you overtime. Though, judging by the state of these, I’d say not. What’s the use in being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don’t even pay you well for it?” Lucius demeaned condescendingly.

“We have a very different idea about what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy,” Arthur replied sternly, trying not to get upset in front of his family.

“Clearly,” Lucius said before dropping Ginny’s books back into her cauldron. “Associating with Muggles. And I thought your family could sink no lower.” Lucius was turning to leave the shop when he said over his shoulder, “Collect your mother, Draco. We’re leaving.”

Once Lucius left the shop, Draco let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding in. He looked up to see all the Weasleys staring at him.

“I’m sorry. He’s so cruel sometimes…”

Hermione was the first to move forward as she hugged Draco, soothing him. “You never need to apologize for his actions. Only apologize for yours.”

Draco hugged her back. “I’m sorry, Hermione. I should have stuck up for you!” When they broke the hug, Draco turned to Ron and the rest of the Weasleys. “For you all, too.”

“Hermione’s right, Draco. A twelve-year-old should never have to apologize for their parent’s behavior,” Arthur reassured, giving the boy a look of pity for his circumstances. “If you ever need a home to turn to, you are more than welcome at the Burrow.”

Draco smiled at the offer when he heard his mother’s voice behind him. “Draco, it’s time to go, darling. Say goodbye to your friends.”

“Bye, Draco,” Hermione said, smiling.

“See you guys at school!” Draco said to Harry and Ron. The two smiled and returned the sentiment as Draco and Narcissa walked out the door to find Lucius standing on the sidewalk waiting for them.

As the Malfoys were walking down the alley to apparate back to the manor, Lucius looked down at Draco. “I didn’t realize you were so close to the mudblood. Granger was her name?”

Draco gulped, trying to keep his composure in public, as he replied quietly. “Yes, Hermione is my friend.”

“I don’t want this friendship to continue to develop further. You are to cease associating with her immediately. The Weasleys as well.”

“But father…” Draco tried to argue. He abruptly stopped as soon as he saw the menacing look on his father’s face.

“Now, now Draco. I understand this will be difficult given that you share a house with them. But this is for the best,” Lucius explained cryptically, ending the conversation.

Upon entering the manor, Draco stormed off to his room, where he spent the rest of the day going through his letters with Hermione. How was he going to tell her that his father disapproved of their friendship? Or Harry or even Ron. Beyond the fact that what Lucius had asked of Draco was simply unfair and based off of prejudicial ideals, the reality of the matter was that it was downright impossible to ignore someone he would see every day. The request... no, demand was made callously and without regard to how Draco felt. Lost in his contemplation of what to do with the upcoming school year, he startled at the soft knock sounding at his door.

“Come in,” he called as he quickly put the letters in his nightstand drawer.

“Draco, dear. Dinner is almost ready. Will you come down?” Narcissa asked.

“Not hungry,” Draco replied stoically.

Narcissa looked over and saw how disheartened Draco felt. She gracefully moved inside and sat on the edge of Draco’s bed. Carefully folding her hands into her lap, she turned her head toward Draco. “You’re upset by what your father said earlier in Diagon Alley.”

“Harry and Ron are my friends. And Hermione…She’s my best friend,” Draco rushed out before lowering his head, refusing to meet his mother’s eyes. “I can’t just stop talking to them, Mother. I’m sure you’re probably disappointed in me too.”

“Draco,” Narcissa took a deep breath before opening her arms to allow Draco to crawl over and hold him. “I know you are growing up, but I want you to promise me something…”

Draco pulled out of his mother’s embrace to look up at her in confusion. “Yes, mother?”

“I will admit, I am a little perplexed by your friendship with the Granger girl. And you know our opinion of the Weasleys. So, what I am asking of you, my dragon, is I want you to really consider if these friendships are worth pursuing.” She raised her hand to stop her son’s outburst. “I’m not saying I disagree with the association, but I am also not entirely supportive. I merely want you to think about what your father and I have told you and spend some time coming to your own conclusions.”

Draco slowly closed his mouth, the wheels in his mind turning over and over, trying to process his mother’s request. While his father could be pretty transparent, his mother was almost unreadable. She was the exemplification of what a Pureblooded wife should be, but Draco felt like he had seen glimpses of something more defiant under her beautiful exterior. Realizing his mother was waiting for a response, Draco cleared his throat.

“Thank you, mother. I’ll be down to dinner in just a moment,” Draco finally relayed. When his mother left, he laid back down on his bed to continue with his thoughts. While it was clear his mother had not formed an opinion on Draco’s relationships, he had hope that she would lean towards the side of approval.

Chapter Text

Kings Cross Station was an absolute madhouse, just like it was every year on the first of September. Muggle or wizard, it seemed everyone was in a hurry to catch a train this morning.

“Ready, dear?” Narcissa smiled meekly as she and Draco rushed forward together through the brick wall between the numbered 9 and 10 signs.

Once on the other side, Draco handed his belongings to the attendant before turning around to hug his mother.
“Have a good year at school, dear,” Narcissa whispered softly before letting go of Draco.

His father awkwardly hugged him goodbye before whispering in Draco’s ear, “Remember what we talked about.”

Once Draco was free of his parents, he quickly trotted through the compartments looking for his friends. His parents had given him much to think about these past few weeks. Despite the threats and allusions to unfortunate consequences, Draco decided they were simply testing his resolve. He would not let it break.

Coming upon another car, he spotted several of his Gryffindor year mates, “Hey, guys. Have you seen Ron, Harry, and Hermione?”

Dean and Seamus shook their heads as Neville spoke up, “Can’t say I’ve seen Ron or Harry, but Hermione is just two down on the left.”

Draco thanked them, heading off in the direction Neville had pointed. He peeked through the window to see his best friend leaning against the window reading the book he had given her.  

“Miss me?” Draco teased, plopping down on the cushion next to her.

Hermione smiled widely, “It’s so good to see you! I didn’t get a chance to thank you properly for your gift. International wizard politics is absolutely fascinating!”

Draco smiled back, “I knew you would like it! Where are Harry and Ron?”

She shook her head, “I saw the twins and Ginny. I assumed they would have been right behind them.”

“Odd. I saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley at the station, but can’t say I remember seeing Ron or Harry, either.”

“Perhaps we should go look for them?” Hermione suggested, her smile quickly turning into a worried frown.

Draco nodded, “Alright, do you want to split up? Or just go together?”

Hermione contemplated the options for a moment before she spoke, “Let’s split up and meet back here once we have searched the entire train.”

One by one, the two knocked on doors and asked about their missing friends. Draco came across the carriage of some of the older Gryffindors. Fred and George were sitting with Angelia Johnson, Lee Jordan, Katie Bell, and Alicia Spinnet.

“He was right behind us at the wall,” Fred confirmed.

“Maybe they missed the train?” George suggested.

“Missed the train? What would happen to a student if they missed the train?” Draco asked, shocked.

The twins shared a mischievous smile when Fred replied, “Probably be expelled.”

“Knock it off, Fred,” Alicia admonished, disapproving of the twins trying to scare Draco while Lee laughed.

“The professors don’t want it to be well known to the students, but there are other ways you can get to school. Most likely, they can floo call Dumbledore and just directly travel to the headmaster’s office,” Angelina explained.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it, Draco. It happened to my older brother in his third year. He didn’t want to tell our parents, so he called the Knight Bus, and it drove him all the way to the school,” Katie interjected, trying to reassure the young wizard.

“Well, thank you, everyone,” Draco sighed, walking away to find Hermione.

______________________________

Hermione diligently went from compartment to compartment looking for the boys. They were nowhere to be found. She was about to give up when she, luckily, came across Ginny Weasley sitting almost entirely alone.

“Ginny! Thank goodness! Have you seen Ron and Harry?” Hermione questioned frantically.

The redhead girl shook her head, “The last I saw them was at the train station. Did they not make it on?”

Hermione took a deep breath, “That’s what Draco and I are trying to find out.”

“I don’t think they are here. I heard Pansy Parkinson say she saw two children driving a flying car, following the Hogwarts Express,” the other girl in the compartment piped up. She was pale-skinned, long blonde hair, and was dressed in plain black robes without any house affiliation. Hermione ascertained the stranger must be a first-year like Ginny.

“Oh, Hermione, this is my good friend Luna Lovegood,” Ginny introduced.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Hermione replied, trying to smile and keep the panic she felt from seeping through her voice.

“I wouldn’t overthink that rumor, Hermione. Pansy’s probably just trying to get attention,” Draco said, suddenly appearing behind her.  

“Hello, Draco,” Luna smiled at the blond wizard.

“Good to see you, cousin,” Draco saluted.

“Cousin? You’re related to this nutter?” Ginny asked Luna.

Luna laughed, “More like he calls me the nutter. And yes, my mother was Lucius’s half-sister. Draco and I would occasionally play together at the manor… when I was invited.”

“Which, regrettably, wasn’t often,” Draco interjected, sincerely apologetic.

“But fun all the same. I could never figure out if it was Theo or a Dabberblimp that put pebbles in my shoes when we played by the stream,” Luna recalled, her eyes looking off in the distance as if living a fond memory.

Confused, Hermione was about to refute Luna’s claim on Dabberblimps when Draco tapped his nose, a sign he hoped Hermione would understand meant to not ask about the made-up creature. He turned to address Luna, “I’m positive it was Theo, Luna.”

“Oh,” she said before returning to her upside version of The Quibbler.  

“Well, it was very nice to meet you. Draco and I are going to head back to our compartment,” Hermione stated, pulling him up from the seat and waving bye to Ginny and Luna.

“You know, Luna really isn’t crazy. She’s quite creative and very witty. I think you two would get along well,” Draco hinted.

“Dabberblimps aren’t real. I don’t see how intelligent she can be if she believes in made-up creatures,” Hermione responded haughtily, opening their door.

Draco frowned, “Don’t be so judgmental, Hermione. You barely know Luna, and you don’t know what she was like before…”

“Before?” Hermione prompted.

“Before her mum died,” Draco said, his voice nearly a whisper.  

Hermione’s face softened, “What?”

“My Aunt Pandora, Luna’s mum, was a spell creator. She was experimenting one day in her lab when a spell backfired. Luna… was there when it happened. She hasn’t been the same since the accident,” Draco revealed.   

“Oh, my!” Hermione exclaimed. She suddenly felt terrible for the poor girl, as well as guilty that she had been so dismissive of her.

“The reason I’m telling you this is because I know she can be a bit… abnormal. People aren’t very kind to those who are different. I see sparks of the Luna I used to know. I just… don’t know if the spell damaged her, or if she is just coping from the grief… but I would really appreciate it if you would be nice to my cousin. Ideally, I would like you guys to be friends, but I’ll understand if you can’t hang out with her,” Draco explained.

“I’m so sorry, Draco. I had no idea. I didn’t mean to judge her so harshly. Because it means so much to you, I’ll try to befriend her. It’s just that… I don’t get along well with other girls my age. We usually don’t have a lot in common. I mean… there is a reason why my very best friends are boys,” Hermione joked.

Draco chuckled, “It’s okay, Hermione. The fact that you are willing to try means a lot. I really do appreciate it.”

They were silent for a moment, just staring at one another, each looking as if the other wanted to say something more, but neither having the courage to speak up. Draco was battling internally with how to broach the topic of his father. He could tell by the look on her face that she knew something had happened that he was struggling to say, but before she could ask, the train whistle blew indicating their impending arrival at Hogsmeade Train Station. The opportunity was lost.

“Oh no! We are nearly there! We have to change!” Hermione cried out. She immediately ran out of the compartment, leaving Draco bewildered. After a few seconds, Hermione turned back around and popped her head in, “Draco! Come on! We have to be in our uniforms before we reach the school.”

_______________________

Instead of taking the boats across the loch like last year, the second years and above were directed to ride self-pulling carriages. Unlike the train’s compartments, only about six students could sit in a carriage at one time. Hermione and Draco ended up sharing a carriage with Daphne Greenglass (a childhood friend of Draco’s who was sorted into Slytherin), Aurora Runcorn (a friend of Daphne’s who was also in Slytherin), and Morag MacDougal (a Ravenclaw in their year). The ride was awkward, with just Draco and Daphne making polite conversation about mutual acquaintances.

Hermione didn’t begin to express her panic about their missing friends until they were at the Gryffindor table. Ron and Harry were still nowhere to be found! They hadn’t been on the train, and the Weasleys had no idea where they were. Rumors circulated that the illegally charmed muggle vehicle (according to Seamus Finnigan, it was a Ford Anglia) was spotted by muggles in London and had been driven by Ron and Harry. If that were true, they would undoubtedly be in trouble with the Ministry, possibly even expelled!

With their grim thoughts temporarily stored, Draco and Hermione turned their attention to the sorting ceremony. It was a bit surreal to think that Draco had been standing next to Hermione experiencing this a year ago to the date. What he didn’t anticipate was how long and boring the ceremony was to a spectator. He clapped for each person, as was the right thing to do. The Weasleys were very excited to see Ginny be sorted into Gryffindor, taking a seat next to Hermione once the hat made its pronouncement. Draco was proud of Luna being sorted in Ravenclaw. He thought the house suited her personality very well. Just like last year, as soon as the sorting was completed, the feast magically appeared. Draco and Hermione picked at their plates when one of the twins nudged him.

“Hey, look over there!” Fred pointed out.

Draco and Hermione looked over to see McGonagall and Dumbledore following Snape out of the Great Hall.

“That can’t be good,” George speculated playfully.

“Did you hear that the flying car the Prophet was talking about crashed into the Whomping Willow?” Lee Jordan whispered.

“Harry and Ron crashed a flying car?” Dean Thomas exclaimed, wide-eyed.

“Wicked,” the Weasley twins said in unison, nodding in approval.

“That’s ridiculous!” Hermione defended.

“Hermione. Think about it. They weren’t on the train; they’re not in the hall; rumors are going around that the car spotted flying over London was operated by them. It’s not completely out of the realm of possibilities,” Draco conceded reluctantly.

“If it’s true, they will assuredly be expelled,” Percy chimed in with no remorse in his voice.

“Don’t say that, Percy!” Ginny called out to her brother, appalled by his attitude.

“Serves them right for doing something so stupid. You’re too young to understand, Ginevra,” Percy dismissed the little girl.  

“It’s Ginny,” she muttered.

“Look! They’re coming back,” Dean said, causing the group of Gryffindors to look up. The three professors had returned, but there was no sign of Ron or Harry.

“Well, I guess that answers that question,” Neville lamented.  

Draco set his silverware down. He didn’t feel like eating after that. The hall was clearing out, with students wanting to get settled into their common rooms, exhausted from the trip. Hermione and Draco were lingering, not too anxious to find themselves in their house without two of their best friends. Percy told them the password before getting up to guide the first years like he had last year.

“Is there something your father can do, Draco?” Hermione asked tentatively.

“I don’t know. If you want, I’ll write a letter tonight,” Draco replied.

When it seemed they could no longer stay in the Great Hall, they got up and walked to the Gryffindor tower, shuffling along the corridor until they saw two boys standing in front of the portrait, arguing with the fat lady for her refusal to let them in.

“Harry? Ron?” Draco called out, causing the two to turn around.

“You’re here! Where have you been? Lee Jordan said you’d been expelled for crashing a flying car…” Hermione yelled, trailing off when Harry Interrupted her.

“Well, we haven’t been expelled,” Harry reassured her.

“So, it was you! Bloody brilliant! You have got to tell us all about it,” Draco exclaimed, earning him a disapproving look from Hermione.

She was gearing up to chastise the boys when Ron cut in, “Skip the lecture, Hermione. Will one of you tell us the password? We’re exhausted!”

“It’s ‘wattlebird,’” said Hermione impatiently, “but this conversation isn’t…”

Her words were cut short by the portrait swinging open. Harry and Ron quickly ducked through the entrance and were greeted by the entire house applauding them. Most were still awake, waiting to hear the story of their arrival.

While Harry and Ron enjoyed the spotlight, Hermione crossed her arms and scowled at the gross display of appreciation for rule-breaking.

Draco leaned in and whispered, “It’s okay, Hermione. Let them enjoy it for now.”

“I don’t think Harry and Ron understand how serious this could have been,” Hermione replied.

“You’re probably right. But ultimately, everything turned out okay in the end,” Draco reminded her. Hermione’s face relaxed.

“I know,” she conceded, “I just worry about them.”

Draco patted her shoulder, his hand lingering, “You’re an amazing friend. You know that?”

Hermione smiled back, “Likewise, Draco.”

_________________________

The next morning at breakfast, Hermione was ignoring Ron and Harry. She was still angry at the boys for arriving in the flying car and almost getting expelled. Draco gave them a sympathetic look, whispering to give her time.

“Did you find it?” Ron asked Draco.  

The blond pulled out a roll of Spell-o tape from his robe pocket and handed it to his friend.

“I don’t know how helpful it’s going to be, Ron,” Draco cautioned as the redhead aggressively wrapped the two pieces of his 12-inch Ash wood wand together, the unicorn-hair core partially visible in its current state. Harry explained this morning that when the car got stuck in the Whomping Willow, Ron attempted to cast a spell and snapped it on the steering wheel.

“Can’t you just get a new one?” Harry asked.

“And explain to my parents what we did? No thank you!” Ron exclaimed, holding up his makeshift repair. The young Gryffindor gulped, “Alright, say it. I’m doomed.”

Draco and Harry looked at each other before simultaneously saying, “you’re doomed.”

McGonagall had just passed out their class schedules when the Weasley’s owl swooped in from the ceiling, crashing into a plate of rolls. The animal laid there as if it was stunned by the impact.

“Errol!” Ron moaned, rousing the owl. When the animal departed, it left behind a familiar looking red envelope.

“Oh no,” Draco gasped.

“Is that from…” Harry trailed off when he saw Ron nodding in confirmation.

“You better open it, Ron. I ignored one from my Grandmother once. It was awful,” Neville advised, shuddering at the memory.

With shaky hands, Ron barely pried open the wax seal when the voice of Molly Weasley boomed through the hall-

“RONALD WEASLEY!”

The howler paused. Coming to life to form the mouth of the person who sent it. Unlike the howler Draco’s father sent last year, Mrs. Weasley’s message was delivered at full volume. 

“HOW DARE YOU STEAL THAT CAR! I AM ABSOLUTELY DISGUSTED! YOUR FATHER’S FACING AN INQUIRY AT WORK, AND IT’S ENTIRELY YOUR FAULT. IF YOU PUT ANOTHER TOE OUT OF LINE, WE’LL BRING YOU STRAIGHT HOME!”

Ron was crying when the howler finished. The magical envelope ripped itself to shreds, scattering the debris all other Ron’s breakfast plate. A few people were laughing, mostly from the Slytherin table, but gradually the babble of talk broke out again, easing away the awkwardness and embarrassment. Draco felt terrible for Ron, and even Harry looked guilty. At least Lucius had sent his howler privately instead of mailing it so that it would have to be opened in front of the entire school.

Hermione closed the book she had been reading, “Well, I don’t know what you excepted Ron but you…”

“Don’t tell me I deserved it,” the redhead snapped.

The two friends were in an intense stare-off when Draco tried to reduce the tension, “Well… look at this, mates. We have Herbology first with the Hufflepuffs.”

The quartet left the castle together to make their way to the greenhouses. Professor Sprout was returning with Gilderoy Lockhart from an unfortunate attempt to heal the Whomping Willow. Lockhart requested a moment with Harry as Sprout unlocked the gate and commanded the second years to gather around the main table in Greenhouse Three. Neville was a herbology prodigy and the most excited out of anyone. He had made a comment earlier about how all the dangerous plants were housed in number three.

"Today we are going to re-pot Mandrakes,” the stout witch shouted at the class, “Who here can tell me the properties of the Mandrake root? Ah, yes, Miss Granger?”

Hermione lowered her hand, taking a deep breath before answering the question, “Mandrake, or Mandragora is used to return those who have been petrified to their original state. It’s also quite dangerous. The Mandrake’s cry is fatal to anyone who hears it.”

Harry slipped in next to Hermione just as she finished her explanation. Sprout nodded, “Excellent! 20 points to Gryffindor!”

“Nice!” Ron whispered to his friends, excited that their house was off to a great start towards winning the house cup again.

“Now, as our mandrakes are still only seedlings, their cries won’t kill you yet. But they could knock you out for hours, which is why I’ve given each of you a pair of earmuffs for auditory protection! So, could you please put them on right away? Quickly, now,” the professor pointed around the table. The students hurried to follow her instructions to tighten the flaps.

Professor Sprout grabbed the plant by its stem with a firm grasp and pulled it out of the pot. Instinctively, the children raised their hands to press the earmuffs closer to their ears as they watched the small, muddy root squirm and cry at being removed from the dirt. She then plunged the Mandrake into a larger pot, completely covering it in fresh soil. After brushing off her sleeve, she gave the class a thumbs up to indicate it was safe to remove their earmuffs so she could give them directions for getting into groups.

“Ugh, it looked like an ugly baby,” Ron said to the four.

“What did Lockhart want, Harry?” Draco asked, changing the subject.  

Harry rolled his eyes, “He tried to take credit for us flying the car to school and offered me ‘advice’ on how to handle my fame.”

“He’s just trying to help, Harry,” Hermione defended.

“Nah, Hermione. Lockhart is not the kind of wizard to share the spotlight. I would bet you five gallons he is intimidated by Harry,” Draco challenged.

“If you read his book…” Hermione continued, but Draco cut her off.

“I have. And it’s absolute rubbish! I’m telling you, Hermione. Actually, watch him. Be critical about his work and judge him by his skills as a professor and not the words he writes on a page,” Draco insisted.

“You of all people should know not to judge someone on the basis of rumor, Draco Malfoy,” Hermione spat, “He is going to be the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor Hogwarts has ever seen. And I’ll happily spend those five galleons on his future collection.”

Ron and Harry watched, wide-eyed at the interaction. They had never seen Draco and Hermione get into an argument before. Of course, the two had debated on multiple occasions, but never with malice. If Harry was honest, he completely agreed with Draco’s assessment of Lockhart. The man was arrogant with little evidence to back up his claim. It was shocking to see someone as intelligent as Hermione defend him so vehemently. Their conversation could not continue as Professor Sprout had called the room to order again.

____________________________

The rest of the morning was tense and awkward as Hermione and Draco stopped speaking to one another. Harry hoped that this first DADA class they had scheduled right after lunch would put the stupid misunderstanding to rest, and that things would go back to normal. He was writing something in his composition book when he was startled by the sound of a loud click followed by a bright flash.

“Hi, Harry! I’m Colin Creevy! I’m in Gryffindor too!” a small, blond-haired wizard with pasty skin and a squeaky voice greeted the boy-who-lived. He was holding an old 33mm camera.

“Hi, Colin. Nice to meet you,” Harry stuttered. He shot Draco a pointed look when he saw the wizard covering his mouth to hide a snicker.

“Say, do you think your friend here could take a photo of us standing together? You know, to prove I met you? Oh, and can you sign my notebook?” Colin asked excitedly.

Draco and Ron lost it. They both snorted at Colin’s request.

“Blimey, I didn’t know you were giving out autographs, Harry,” Ron gasped out in between laughs.

“Everyone, line up! Get your signed photo with Harry Potter today!” Draco joked, causing the Weasley twins next to him to cackle.  

“Shut up, Draco,” Harry chuckled, throwing a crisp at his friend. He turned to Colin, “Maybe later. We ah… need to get going. Class and all…”

“Sure! No problem, Harry!” Colin said, skipping away happily.

Ron and Draco teased Harry the entire way to Defense Against the Dark Arts. When they entered the large classroom, Hermione was, evidently, not angry enough at Draco to deny him his usual seat at the front of the class next to her on the double bench. Harry and Ron took a seat right behind them as students around them were mindlessly chatting, preparing their desks with the required text and rolls of parchment.

The classroom had a high, arched ceiling that was large enough to suspend a dragon’s skeleton and a wrought iron chandelier. In the front was a small staircase that led to the professor’s office. At the foot of said staircase, leaning against the wall was a giant golden frame of Lockhart painting a self-portrait. Surrounding the room were various other paintings and pictures, all of Gilderoy Lockhart.

Ron scoffed, “How full of yourself can you get?”

No one responded to his comment as the office door swung open to reveal the outlandish wizard. Lockhart leaned against the railing, lording over the class when he spoke, “Let me introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Me!”

Draco rolled his eyes when he heard Hermione sighing, clearly enamored by Lockhart. The wizard continued his introduction while making a dramatic descent down the stairs, “…Order of Merlin, Third Class, honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five times winner of Witch Weekly’s Most-Charming-Smile Award.”

The professor paused, flashing his self-proclaimed dashing smile before returning to his monologue, “I see you’ve all bought a complete set of my books. Well done. Now, I thought we’d start today with a little quiz---nothing to worry about. Just to see how much you’re read them. How much you’ve…uh…taken in.”

Hermione blushed as she accepted the parchment from Lockhart. Draco could hear Ron muttering behind him, “Look at these questions. They are all about him.”

“You have 30 minutes. Start… now!” Lockhart announced from the front of the classroom.

Draco flipped the quiz over in disbelief. Ron wasn’t exaggerating. Every question was something about the egomaniac:

1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s favorite color?
2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s secret ambition?
3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart’s most outstanding achievement to date?
4. What is….

When the time was called, Draco was beyond relieved to hand the quiz back, not even upset that he didn’t know any of the answers. There was no way that this could be counted towards their grade. Lockhart was rifling through the papers in front of the class, a disappointed look on his face.

“Tut, tut… hardly any of you remembered that my favorite color is lilac.” He continued making snide comments about the answers until he came across one paper that he looked through very thoroughly. “But Miss Hermione Granger knew that my secret ambition is to rid the world of evil and market my own range of hair-care potions. Good girl.”

Draco clenched his fists when Lockhart winked at her. He didn’t care that her entirely correct quiz earned Gryffindor 10 points. No… instead, Draco kept wondering how many awards the git’s smile would win if he removed a few of his teeth. He needed to get out of there… now.

_________________

“Honestly! How can she not see how ridiculous he is! The man is a complete farce!” Draco complained to Harry and Ron as the three were getting ready for bed later that evening in the dormitory.

“Guess we aren’t going to talk about Draco’s stalker house-elf,” Ron muttered.

Harry quickly redirected to the topic at hand, “Draco, you know we agree with you…”

“That foppish waste of magic better stay away from her, or I will eviscerate him,” Draco warned.

“Mate, you’re 12,” Ron reminded him.

“Your point?” Draco retorted.

“We despise the man just as much as you do, Draco, but you know Hermione better than anyone. She is going to be stubborn about this,” Harry pointed out.

“Then I’m just going to have to prove her wrong,” Draco countered. He went to bed that night, determined to find a way to get his best friends to believe him.

Chapter Text

“Enough is enough!” Ron cried out dramatically at the lunch table one day.

“What’s wrong?” Draco asked. Since their first day of class, the blond had not let up on his campaign to convince Hermione that Lockhart was a fraud. Like her, he was stubborn and tried every single day to bring up a new point that he hoped would lead Hermione “to the light.” By day three, she had yelled at him and started excluding him from their study sessions in the library. They hadn’t been on good terms for two weeks, and it was making everyone miserable! Draco wanted his best friend back, not this starstruck schoolgirl. Unfortunately, Hermione had overheard that particular observation, which made her cry. Even though he felt horrible about how his comment made her feel, he refused to apologize, which caused Hermione to stop talking to him. Ron and Harry were also at a loss, not wanting to take sides, even though they agreed with Draco. So, they tried to keep the peace as much as possible, but the temporary mediation wasn’t a permanent solution.

“You two have been fighting since the beginning of the term. Plus, you haven’t said a word to one another in a week! It’s not natural!” Ron raised his voice, hoping it would spur the two into making amends.  

“Well, you can tell Draco that I’ll talk to him again when he apologizes for what he said to me and the slander about Lockhart,” Hermione demanded, slamming her book closed and stalking away from the table.

Harry rolled his eyes, turning to Draco, “What did you call him now?”

“That depends. I called the man a phony Horklump and said he was as dumb as an Imp. Oh, and I almost told him right to his face that his ridiculous lilac robes didn’t match his skin tone, and that was just on Friday,” Draco stated, ticking the insults on his fingers.

Ron guffawed at the insults, but Harry shook his head, “All you managed to do was hack Hermione off even more. She’s not going to let you sit by her in class again.”

“Fine,” Draco mumbled, getting up from the table to head to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Truth be told, he really did miss sitting next to her. He missed hanging out in the library. He missed just being able to talk, laugh, and be with her! But Draco had to stick by his principles. He didn’t trust Lockhart, and he was confident that Hermione would eventually see through man’s absurd sham. Draco just had to be patient.  

Harry was watching Draco shuffle off when out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Ron holding out his fist, “Stone, Parchment, Wand to see who sits next to Hermione in DADA?”

Harry nodded, raising his fist to meet Ron’s. They did this every defense lesson because Hermione always sat in the front row, which was the last place either of the boys wanted to be. The professor always called on Hermione and winked at her when she answered a question correctly. Draco complained about it on numerous occasions. Ron and Harry had also noticed the subtle charm that was borderline flirtatious, but the professor didn’t just do it to Hermione. No, Lockhart rewarded any girl who responded to his… attention with the same wide smile and wink. The action was sort of creepy, but there wasn’t really any evidence of wrongdoing to report to the headmaster.

“One, two, three…” Harry counted down.

“Stone, Parchment, Wand!” Ron and Harry said at the same time.

“Gah!” Ron bellowed, holding out his flat hand.

“Wand incendios parchment. I win! You have to sit with Hermione,” Harry proclaimed, poking Ron’s hand with his index finger.

“How do you always win?” Ron complained, gathering his supplies, “It’s a game of chance!”

“You always choose parchment,” Harry revealed.

“No, I don’t,” Ron argued indignantly.  

“Watch,” Harry held out his fist to prove his point.  

“Stone, Parchment, Wand,” Ron said, once again picking parchment, Harry picking wand, “Again.”

The boys repeated the game at least three times, Ron picking parchment for all of his turns, proving Harry’s point.

“Merlin’s beard!” Ron shouted, exasperated.

“5 points from Gryffindor for your foul language, Mr. Weasley,” Snape scolded from behind the red-headed wizard.

When they thought the Potions Master was out of earshot, Ron whispered, “Bloody hell.”

“That’s another 5 points, Mr. Weasley. You would do well to remember your pestiferous voice carries, especially in the Great Hall,” Snape pronounced viciously from the entrance.

“Let’s get to class before you lose all our house points,” Harry suggested.

___________________

Ron Weasley was a man of his word and honorably accepted his loss as he sat next to Hermione in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Lockhart paced around the room, endlessly regaling them with one of his many accomplishments, again, and making the same inane joke about a banshee. Draco rolled his eyes. So far, the man had taught them nothing of value. How could they learn when all the man would talk about were his so-called adventures? Suddenly, something in Lockhart’s demeanor changed as he raised his wand and pointed it at a covered object at the front of the classroom.

“I have been told it would be more conducive to your education to provide you with more…practical experience. It is my job to arm you against the foulest creatures known to wizardkind. Be warned, you may find yourselves facing your worst fears in this very room. Know only that no harm can befall you whilst I am here,” Lockhart paused for effect, trying to frighten the students as the object continued to rattle, “I must ask you not to scream. It might provoke them!”

Lockhart lifted the cover to reveal a cage of Pixies flitting around and trying to break out. They were shockingly blue in color and had hideous pointed faces. Even though their shrill voices irritated Draco the most, it was clear that the creatures posed no true threat despite Lockhart’s substantial warning. As more people in the classroom were coming to the same realization and began settling down, he and Harry slowly relaxed their tensed shoulders when Seamus snorted from the desk behind them.

“Cornish Pixies?”

“Freshly caught Cornish Pixies,” Lockhart corrected, a little defensively. At this point, most of the students were acting as if the Professor had played a clever joke on them and started laughing at Lockhart. The well-manicured wizard took stock of the room before calling out to Seamus, “Laugh if you will, Mr. Finnegan, but pixies can be devilishly tricky little blighters. Let’s see what you make of them now!”

Lockhart opened the cage, releasing the mischievous fey into the classroom. Students began screaming, ducking, and crawling around to avoid the chaos and carnage sought by the little pests. Poor Neville couldn’t escape the classroom fast enough. Two of the sprites pulled him by his ears and lifted him into the air, hanging him from the chandelier. The helpless Gryffindor kept crying out for someone to get him down, but his pleas went ignored by the retreating students. Ron, Harry, and Draco were futilely hitting the menacing pixies with discarded textbooks when Hermione shrieked. Three of the winged vermin were pulling her thick hair, trying to tie and knot the curls.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Draco swung his makeshift bat, knocking the creatures off of her. He hit one so hard, it flew into one of Lockhart’s pictures, shattering the glass inside the frame.

“Come on now, they are only Pixies,” Lockhart criticized the class, disgruntled by their lack of participation. He held his wand up, “Peskipiksi Pesternomi!”

The spell was ineffective, distracting the professor long enough to be disarmed! The pixies took the wand and pointed it at the dragon skeleton. With a flash, the fragile bones came crashing to the floor, adding to the destruction.

“What do we do?” Ron asked.

“I’ll ask you four to just nip the rest of them back into their cage,” Lockhart ordered, locking himself in his office.

“Bloody coward,” Draco muttered.

“There has to be a spell or something to stop them!” Harry yelled.

Hermione shot up from the ground and raised her wand into the air, shouting, “Immobulus!”

The spell froze the pixies in midair, keeping them from causing any more mayhem. The young Gryffindors were heavily panting from exertion when Draco looked over at Hermione, “Are you alright, love?”

Hermione didn’t say anything. Instead, she jumped, hugging Draco tightly, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Draco replied softly, returning her embrace. Suddenly, all the reasons they were angry at one another, the time they spent fighting, just melted away. There was no more conflict, only peace. Draco could hear Ron and Harry sighing in relief that their two friends had finally settled their issues.

“Not to ruin the moment, but can any of you get me down?” Neville yelled down at them.

Hermione broke the hug first to assess Longbottom’s predicament, “I could try to levitate you down, but I’ve never done anything heavier than a book.”

“I think this calls for someone a bit more practiced,” Harry suggested.

“Right, I’ll go get McGonagall,” Ron volunteered, leaving the classroom.

“Maybe we should also put the pixies back in their cage?” Harry proposed to the group.

Draco disagreed, “And get rid of all the evidence? No way, Harry.”

“It won’t take Ron long to get Professor McGonagall. The spell will hold until I cast the counter jinx. Let’s wait and hear what she says,” Hermione recommended.

With everyone in agreement, they waited for Ron to return with their head of house. As Hermione predicted, they arrived in the classroom less than ten minutes later. McGonagall gasped when she saw Neville hanging from the ceiling.

“How long has he been up there?” she questioned, raising her wand to gently lower Neville.

“About fifteen minutes,” Draco stated.

“He most likely stayed in place because of the freezing charm I cast. At the time, I was just trying to stop the pixies that Professor Lockhart released into the classroom and told us to round up without any direction,” Hermione explained.

Harry and Draco raised an eyebrow at one another when they heard Hermione’s story. She wasn’t trying to defend the eccentric maniac who thought it was a good idea to leave second years unsupervised with magical creatures.

McGonagall’s face was grim, her mouth in a firm straight line of disappointment, “Where is Professor Lockhart now?”

“Hiding in his office like a sniveling…” Draco tried to insult him, but McGonagall raised her hand.

“That will do, Mr. Malfoy. I’ll have a word with the professor. I urge you to move along to your next lesson,” the woman commanded, turning away to confront Lockhart.

Neville, Harry, and Ron went back to the common room, leaving Draco and Hermione awkwardly standing in the hallway. Before their fight, Draco and Hermione would have used this free period to study together in the library. Now, Draco wasn’t sure where precisely they stood. Had Hermione totally forgiven him? When Hermione could no longer take the silence, she spoke up, “You were right.”

“I was, but it doesn’t justify what I said to you. I’m so sorry, Hermione. I was so caught up in proving my point, I just…”

“It’s okay, Draco…” Hermione began, but Draco cut her off.

“It really isn’t, Hermione. There is no excuse for it. I felt horrible right after I said that…”

“I know you did. But I was acting that way. I can’t believe I was so blinded by his charm and fame… when the man can’t even control something as simple as a pixie!” Hermione exclaimed.

Draco chuckled, feeling warm with relief.

“Let’s simply agree to leave it in the past,” she said, before quickly changing the subject, “Since it is a study period, I think I’ll heading to the library.”

“Oh, right. I… guess I’ll see you later,” Draco sighed, his face falling. He was sad she didn’t want to return to their regular routine.

“Don’t be daft, Draco, of course I want you to come with me. Let’s go,” Hermione took hold of his wrist and gently tugged him down the hallway.

Draco laughed, beyond happy to be led by her to their usual table. They had just sat down when Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, tapped Draco on the shoulder.

“Could I have a word, Malfoy?”

Somewhat surprised, since the older student was hardly known for his friendly attitude toward the younger Gryffindor, Draco nodded, following the sixth year to a private alcove on the library’s east side. The tall wizard lowered his voice, so he wouldn’t get chastised by Madam Pince, “First, I wanted to apologize for how I treated you last year. It’s not very sporting of me to judge a wizard based only on their family’s reputation.”

Draco crossed his arms, skeptical about Wood’s intentions, “What’s this all about?”

“Harry keeps asking me if I will let you try out for the team. All our positions are full, but you could be on rotation as a reserve. Our next practice is this Saturday. Be in the changing room at 6 a.m. That is, if you’re interested…” Wood offered.

“Yes! Yes, I love Quidditch. I can play any position…” Draco rambled gleefully.

Wood chuckled, “I look forward to seeing what you can do with a broom, Malfoy.”

Hermione looked up when Draco returned to the table, “What did Oliver want?”

Draco smiled, “I got a try-out for the house team!”

Her face beamed with pride, “Congratulations!”

Though Hermione didn’t quite understand the draw of Quidditch, she recognized that her three best friends adored the sport. Draco had wanted to play on the team since before he came to Hogwarts. To hear that Wood was reversing his judgment was miraculous! She knew Draco would do wonderfully. Looking at him now, seeing the huge smile plastered across his face made her stomach somersault with conflicting emotions. She was elated to see her best friend’s joy but also concerned. Flying was dangerous, even for those with experience. Anything can happen, especially in the magical world. At that moment, Hermione decided she would surprise Draco Saturday morning and sit in the stands, to watch over him and possibly make sure he got a fair try-out.  

______________________________

Draco had a pip in his step on Saturday morning as he walked into the changing room attached to the pitch a few minutes after six. Harry yawned loudly as the Gryffindor seeker shuffling in behind him. The team was already putting on their gear when Fred Weasley clapped Draco on the back.

“Eh! Look who’s here,” George greeted.

Fred nodding in approval, “You’ll be playing with the big boys now, Malfoy.”

“Big babies is more like it,” Alicia Spinnet punched Fred in the arm before holding out her hand to Draco, “I don’t think we’ve officially met. I’m Alicia, one of the chasers. This is Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell, the other chasers. Am I safe in assuming you already know the rest of the team?”

Draco nodded his head, a bit intimidated to speak.

“Good! Your locker is over in the corner next to Harry’s. Go on and get geared up and then our captain wants a few words before we take to the sky,” she advised.

Harry, though still a bit groggy, reassured Draco not to be nervous as they quickly got ready for practice.  Once everyone had their jerseys, robes, and equipment on, Wood had them gather around.

“Alright, listen up. I spent the summer devising a whole new Quidditch program. We are going to train earlier, harder, and longer,” Wood advised, pointing his wand at a giant board that displayed a diagram of the field.

By the time the captain stopped lecturing and released the team to actually play, the sun had risen, and a few people were in the stands. Hermione and Ron waved at Harry and Draco as they walked out onto the grass.

“Oy! Are you nearly done?” Ron yelled down.

“Haven’t even started yet!” Harry bellowed back.  

Colin Creevy was also walking about, using his camera to capture Harry in action.

“Okay, don’t you think it’s a little creepy that he keeps following you around to take your picture?” Draco whispered to Harry.

“A little, but hopefully it’s harmless?” Harry responded, uncertain.  

“Creepy Colin… that’s a good one, Malfoy,” Fred said, clapping the smaller blond on the shoulder.

“Good use of alliteration,” George winked before taking off into the air.

Draco rolled his eyes, chuckling at the twins before he mounted his Comet Two Sixty. It was a very agile and flexible broom, which would be adaptable to whatever position Wood rotated him to. Gripping the handle for takeoff, Draco was ready to prove himself. He was just about to kick up when Marcus Flint walked onto the field with the entire Slytherin team.

“Where do you think you’re going, Flint?” Oliver hollered at him.

“Quidditch practice,” Marcus Flint answered nonchalantly.

“I booked the pitch for Gryffindor today,” Oliver emphasized.

“Easy, Wood. I got a note,” Flint said, handing a folded piece of parchment to the Gryffindor captain.

“Hmm… ‘I, Professor Severus Snape, do hereby give the Slytherin team permission to practice today, owing to the need to train their new Seeker’,” Oliver read the note aloud, “You got a new seeker? Who?”

Sensing trouble, Ron and Hermione had walked down from the stands to see why the Slytherin team had stopped the practice. Two of the players stepped aside to reveal the mysterious seeker.

“Nott?” Harry raised an eyebrow in disbelief, while Draco dismounted his broom.

“That’s right!” Theo smirked.

“You won’t stand a chance against us,” Draco threatened, “As I recall, I knocked you off your broom last year.”

“At least I’m on the team and not squabbling for sloppy seconds,” Theo bit back, “Besides, I’m not the only new addition to the team.”

“Blimey! Those are Nimbus 2001s. How did you get those?” Ron gaped.

“Gift from Theo’s father,” Flint said smugly.

“It’s quite simple, really. But in defense to your troll ancestry, I’ll explain it to you, Weasley. Because we can afford the best, we deserve the best,” Nott turned to address the rest of the Gryffindor team, “You could probably auction off those Cleansweeps. I’m sure a museum would buy them.”

Hermione glared at the Slytherin team as they howled with laughter. Once their voices died down, she spoke sharply, “At least no one on the Gryffindor team had to buy their way in. They all got it on pure talent.”

Theo scoffed, “No one asked your opinion, you filthy little mudblood.”

Draco saw red and swung. His right fist made contact with Nott’s nose, the distinct sound of cartilage crunching under his knuckles as satisfying as Theo’s cry of pain. The Slytherin boy dropped his new broom, clutching his face while tears streamed from his eyes and blood started to flow out of his nostrils.

“I warned you not to call her that!” Draco shouted at Theo. He was about to lunge again, but Harry and Oliver held him back.

“You’ll pay for that one, Malfoy,” Adrian Pucey, a Slytherin teammate, threatened, raising his wand.

“I don’t think so,” Ron said, mimicking Adrian, “Eat Slugs!”

The spell violently backfired, sending Ron crashing to the ground. He was lying

 on his back when Hermione, Draco, and Harry ran over to check on him, ignoring the snickering coming from the Slytherin team.

“You okay, Ron?” Hermione asked, concerned.

“Come on, Weasley. Say something…” Draco pleaded.

Ron’s face was pale and contorted in a grimace as if he had eaten something foul. Harry was helping the redhead sit up when Ron rolled over on all fours and gagged. He ejected a slimy, black slug from his mouth. The Gryffindor team gasped in disgust.

“Wow!” Colin exclaimed, snapping a picture, “Can you turn him around, Harry?”

“Get out of the way, Colin!” Harry shouted angrily. He and Draco lifted Ron up, trying to steady him.

“Should we take him to Madam Pomfrey?” Hermione asked as Ron threw up another slug.

“Too far… Let’s take him to Hagrid’s. He’ll know what to do,” Harry commanded.

The quartet left the field in a hurry, not really worried about the consequences of recent events. Ron continued to be sick all the way to Hagrid’s. Hermione banged on the door, crying out for the half-giant to open up.

“There yeh lot are! Bin wonderin’ when you’d come ter visit me,” Hagrid said, delighted to see the children. He was not disturbed in the slightest by Ron’s problem and quickly placed a rusty bucket in front of the wizard, “Better out than in. Nothin’ ter do but wait till it stops, I’m afraid.”

Ron chucked another slug out in response. Draco winced at the pain and thought of how vile the slugs must taste, “Thanks for trying, Weasley.”

Ron gave a weak nod, “What are friends for?”

“Who was Ron trying to hex anyway?” Hagrid asked.

“Adrian Pucey. A Slytherin chaser. He was going to hex Draco for punching Theodore Nott,” Harry explained.

“He deserved it! The stupid arse…” Draco muttered. Hagrid gave the young Gryffindor a disapproving look for his language as Harry continued.

“Theo called Hermione a… well, I’m sorry, I don’t exactly know what it means.”

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest, tears pooling in her eyes, “He called me a mudblood.”

Draco uncrossed her arms and hugged her when Hagrid gasped, “He didn’.”

“What’s a mudblood?” Harry asked.

“It means, ‘dirty blood’,” Hermione growled, coming out of Draco’s hug, “Mudblood’s a really foul name for someone who’s muggleborn. Someone with non-magical parents. Someone like me.”

“As I have been informed, it’s not a term used in polite conversation,” Draco winked at Hermione, causing her to grin at the memory of their first meeting.

“Yeh see, Harry. There are some in the wizarding world that believe they’re better than everyone else ‘cause they’re what people call pure blood,” Hagrid explained.

“Some, like my father, like Theo, Blaise, Vincent, and Gregory. We were all raised to believe that muggleborns were abominations who stole their magic. We were taught to hate those deemed inferior. That’s why so many of the old families followed You-Know-Who. He promised to purify the wizarding world and eradicate all the muggleborns,” Draco offered somberly, his voice lowering with each sentence.

“That’s horrible,” Harry cried out, outraged by what he had just heard.   

Hermione slipped her hand around Draco’s wrist, touching his pulse point, “You aren’t like that, Draco.”

Draco smiled at her for a moment before turning to face Harry, “It is an atrocity and a byproduct of decades of Wizarding History. One I don’t want to be a part of.”

Hagrid patted the young wizard on the back, commending him. “More ter the point, they’ve yet ter think of a spell that our Hermione can’ do! And Draco, yeh family don’ define who yeh are. Yeh a good lad.”

Hermione’s smile widened after hearing Hagrid’s compliment, her cheeks blushing slightly from the recognition at the same time Draco softly thanked the half-giant. The groundskeeper’s regard made Draco feel at ease. 

“So, what does it mean when Theo and Blaise keep calling you a blood traitor?” Harry asked.

“Me too!” Ron piped up before ducking to retch another slug out.

Draco laughed, “In case you didn’t know, Harry, the Weasleys are pureblooded as well. The term is used for someone with two sets of magical grandparents, or a “pureblood,’ who has turned their backs on the traditional ideology.”

Ron gave the group a thumbs-up, approving Draco’s explanation.

“Don’ yeh think on it, Hermione and Draco. Don’ yeh think on it for one minute,” Hagrid said, trying to comfort everyone after the serious conversation.

When Ron stopped puking slugs, they left Hagrid’s and made their way to the Great Hall for lunch. McGonagall stopped them before they could head inside.

“Mr. Weasley, Mr. Potter, you are to serve your detentions tonight, eight o’clock sharp,” the stern witch pointed at Ron, “You are to report to Mr. Filch.”

“What am I doing, ma’am?” Ron asked tentatively.

“Cleaning the trophy case without using magic. As for you, Mr. Potter, Professor Lockhart has requested your assistance in answering his fan mail. You will report to his classroom.”

“Please, Professor! Anything but that,” Harry begged.

“It has been decided. I expect you both to be on time,” McGonagall’s tone left no room to argue. The two boys nodded their heads when she turned to Draco, “Mr. Malfoy, I would like a word. Privately.”

Harry and Ron gave Draco a grim look as they walked away with Hermione. Draco took a deep breath, standing tall to face his Head of House, “Yes, Professor?”

“I heard you got into an altercation on the quidditch pitch today,” she stated.

“Yes, but professor…” Draco tried to defend himself, but McGonagall raised her hand to silence him.

“No exceptions, Mr. Malfoy. Violence will not be tolerated. You will also serve detention tonight with Professor Snape. And to ensure your actions don’t happen again, 10 points…” McGonagall stated, but Draco cut her off.

“Nott called Hermione a mudblood,” Draco proclaimed.

“Excuse me?” McGonagall asked in a shocked tone.

“That’s why I punched him. He called Hermione… that slur. It’s not the first time he’s done it, but… it was the first time he said it to her face,” Draco explained.

McGonagall’s face softened, showing sympathy for Draco. Sighing, she said, “I won’t deduct the house points, but you do have to serve detention tonight. I’m sorry, Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco nodded his head, “It’s okay, Professor.”

“Don’t take this as justification for assaulting a student. Next time, get a professor,” McGonagall admonished, “Now, off you go. Eight o’clock tonight in the potions classroom.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Draco replied, walking into the Great Hall to tell the others what happened.

Chapter Text

“It’s not fair!” Hermione exclaimed later that night in the Common Room, the frustration in her voice an almost palpable thing. Harry was still lingering in the dormitory, not looking forward to having to spend his Saturday with Lockhart. It was just the three of them, however, as Filch had spotted Ron right after dinner and demanded the redhead start his detention early. Ron, not wanting to argue with the crotchety man, had reluctantly let himself be dragged away.

“I don’t mind, Hermione,” Draco tried to reassure her, getting up to head to the dungeon, “At least McGonagall decided not to deduct house points.”

“Who cares about the stupid house points! Draco, it’s a disproportioned punishment if your behavior is being corrected, but Nott’s isn’t,” she argued.

“I don’t know if Theo got detention or not, but it wouldn’t surprise me if he didn’t,” he replied, dejected.

She sighed. “Well, at least it’s with Snape. You seem to be the only Gryffindor student he tolerates.”

Draco chuckled. “There is that. I’ll see you later, Hermione.”

“Be careful. And don’t do anything stupid,” she admonished him, joking slightly.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he called over his shoulder, making his way to the dungeons. When he arrived at the door to the Potion’s classroom, Draco slowly raised his fist and knocked a few times. Hearing a muffled 'enter,' he cautiously pushed against the heavy wood and found Snape sitting at his desk marking papers.

“Draco,” Snape greeted, not looking up from his work, “You will find new labels already sitting on the desk. You’re to relabel all the vials along the wall. I expect you to take your time and mark each bottle perfectly. You will not be permitted to leave until the task is completed.”

At least this isn’t hard.

Draco mentally thanked his lucky stars as he pulled a handful of potions. He lost track of time as he mindless carried on when Snape suddenly broke the silence.

“Do I want to know why you punched Mr. Nott today on the pitch?”

Draco scoffed. “I don’t think so, Professor. You would likely disapprove.”

“I am already disappointed in your behavior. What could possibly be worse than giving in to such a juvenile urge?” Snape questioned.

After a few moments of contemplating his former mentor’s challenge, Draco answered. “He called Hermione a slur.”

“I see,” Snape replied, his tone not giving any hint to the Professor’s emotional state. “In that case, I am sure this punishment won’t be the last you face over what transpired.  I image Lucius is drafting another howler for you as we speak.”

“Is it Hogwarts policy to notify parents every time there’s a minor transgression?” Draco’s voice dripped with sarcasm. He flinched slightly when he heard something heavy bang on the desk.

“Punching a student isn’t, as you so put it, a minor transgression. Mr. Nott was seriously injured,” Snape shouted at the young wizard.

“Good. Theo deserved it,” Draco muttered.

He heard the Professor sigh, then nothing. Snape had paused, as if steeling himself for an impossible task that he was unprepared to handle. “Draco… I warned you last year that your… associations were going to create conflict in your life. Reacting the way you did on the Quidditch Pitch will only fuel the animosity between you and Mr. Nott.”

“I know…”

“Then learn to control yourself!” the man spat, the frustration in his voice clear as the empty glass vials in the storage closet.

Draco did not respond, choosing to focus on his assignment while he mulled over Snape’s words. It was difficult to admit that what the Professor had to say was, undoubtedly, great advice. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that if Draco kept allowing his temper to get the better of him (a flaw he had struggled with his entire life), then the consequences could one day be too much to bear. Theo, though his aim was probably to insult Hermione and not rile Draco, knew how to push the right buttons to flare the young wizard’s ire. Though punching Theo in his narrow face had been somewhat gratifying, in the end, violence did nothing to change the Slytherin’s mind. Theo was still going to curse at Hermione and taunt Ron and Harry. He couldn’t allow his friends to be used as a weakness like that again. No, he would have to try harder to keep his emotions… more contained.

He was about halfway through the wall when he heard Snape speaking again. “You know when she was younger, your mother could also be quite… passionate when defending those she cared for.”

Draco lifted his head and quirked an eyebrow at the comment. "Really?”

“Entirely so,” Snape drawled before continuing. “I was a first-year, sorted into Slytherin, and didn’t have many friends until your father befriended me. He was a sixth-year and had just begun a… relationship with your mother when a couple of mischievous Gryffindors hexed Lucius.”

Snape stopped to allow Draco a moment to visualize the situation. A smile played briefly at the corner of his mouth as he heard the blond laugh at the image of his father being pranked. Even Snape could acknowledge that the elder Malfoy was usually so cold and put together that it was hard to see him as anything other than the epitome of English pureblooded nobility. “Narcissa was, naturally, furious by the intrusion and returned the favor with interest. Needless to say, it took a week for the spell to wear off and left the troublemakers wary of targeting her or Lucius again.”

“What was the spell?” Draco asked.

The Professor raised a knowing eyebrow at Draco’s question, remaining silent until the young Gryffindor was sufficiently swayed from prodding further for an answer. When he saw Draco sheepishly bow his head in embarrassment, he went on with the story.

“Lucius and Narcissa were the first friends I made at Hogwarts, and it is a bond that continued to grow well after the completion of our studies. I flatter myself to think they hold our relationship in a similar regard. My advice to you, Draco, is to not be so dismissive of your father’s… recommendations. He only wants what’s best for you.” 

Shortly after, Snape released the young wizard for the night. Draco walked back to the Gryffindor Common Room semi-dazed, the conversation with Snape weighing heavily on his mind. When he stepped through the portrait hole, he saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione on the couch in front of the fireplace.

“Draco! Guess what! We are going to a Death Day Party!” Hermione declared excitedly.

“A what?” the blond wizard asked, sitting on the floor in front of them.

“I ran into Nearly Headless Nick coming back from detention, and he invited all of us,” Harry explained. “I guess it’s like a birthday party for the ‘ghost-of-honor,’ but it’s commemorating his death.” 

“It sounds interesting,” Draco replied, skeptical about what exactly the four were getting into.

“It sounds morbid! Honestly, who wants to celebrate the day they died? Plus, it’s the same time as the Halloween feast,” Ron complained while he struggled to finish his Potion's homework.

“It’s six counterclockwise stirs, not twelve,” Draco whispered, helping the redhead before he turned to address Harry. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Hermione cut him off. “You can’t back out now! You already told him we would go.”

Before any more could be said about the topic, Fred and George barged into the Common Room with Percy hot on their heels. The twins had done something to the Prefect’s mouth. Every time he tried to yell at the trouble makers, an orange flame erupted from his lips.  

“Fire-breathing Salamander,” George, or was it, Fred? Breathlessly explained to the stunned crowd as the older brother chased them up the stairs with murderous intent.

Ron shook his head. “Mental, they are, I’m telling you. I think mum dropped all three of them on their heads as babies.”

The rest of the quartet couldn’t help but agree as the hysterical sight drove the ethical dilemma of attending the Death Day Party out of the young Gryffindors’ minds for the time being. There was truly never a dull moment in Gryffindor House.

______________________________

 The night of the Halloween feast and the Death Day Party had arrived, and with it brought a sense of dread and guilt at Harry’s reassurance to their house ghost that the four would attend.

“No, no, no, you three. Harry accepted the invitation and said we would go. A promise is a promise,” Hermione reminded the boys bossily. 

Ron stared longingly at the Great Hall as they passed the giant doors on their descent towards the dungeons. He had a look of desire in his eyes, drool practically forming at the corner of his mouth at the sounds and smells of the epic feast.

“Maybe there will be food at the party…” Draco suggested to Ron, in an attempt to cheer up the other wizard, but any hope for a snack was quickly lost when they entered the room.

The four gaped at the ghoulish ambience of the makeshift ballroom.  A thin white mist coated everything from floor to ceiling, giving the place quite the macabre feel. Half-melted candles- black as night- sat crookedly in the chandelier, their flickering blue flames casting an eerie glow. Adding to the frightening atmosphere, as well as their discomfort, was the temperature. It continued to drop with each step the quartet took into the room, until Hermione was sure she could no longer distinguish her breath from the mist.

“It’s like we are walking through the Underworld!” Draco shivered, pulling his cloak tighter around himself.

“Great. Just great. We are all going to die!” Ron proclaimed dramatically.

Before Hermione could comment on Ron’s behavior, Nearly Headless Nick floated over to greet his living guests. “Welcome! My friends, I am so glad you could attend!”

“Thank… Th..a… Thank… you for, h…av..ing… us, Nick,” Harry chattered out.

“Please do have a look around and enjoy yourself!” the ghost offered before floating on to a different part of the room.

“Look over there!” Ron pointed, “Food!” 

“Be careful not to walk into anyone,” Draco jested as the redhead made a swift dash to the long buffet-style table.

The first thing that clued Ron into the fact that something was wrong was the smell. The second and most notable thing that Ron observed as he got closer to the feast was that it was all completely rotten. He stopped dead in his tracks at the decaying dishes, his eyes roaming over each one until he came across a cake with Nearly Headless Nick’s name written in icing.

“Oh, Weasley… that’s such… rotten luck,” Draco chortled at his own terrible joke.

“That’s not even funny, mate!” Ron complained.

“I suspect they’ve let it rot so that it has a stronger flavor for the ghost to taste as they walk through it,” Hermione proposed as she plugged her nose.

“Well, I am officially depressed. Can we move on, please?” Ron begged.

It was hard to believe that Draco’s poorly executed joke was the highlight of the night. When the music started, it sounded like nails scratching on a chalkboard rather than an actual melody. The four were approached by several of Hogwarts’s ghosts throughout the evening and were forced to make small talk with them. Nearly Headless Nick drifted to the center of the room and was about to give a speech when the party was crashed by Sir Patrick and his gang for the Headless hunt. Nick and Patrick were in a heated argument when Harry announced, “I think we fulfilled our promise and attended the party long enough.”

“Agreed. Let’s go,” Draco said, darting out the door and back into the hallway.

“That was, without a doubt, the worst party I have ever been to,” Ron declared without an ounce of tact. “Maybe there is still some pudding left at the feast.”

“Honestly, Ron. It wasn’t that bad…” Hermione lied.

“Hermione, even you can admit it was a pretty terrible party,” Draco cajoled.

“Well… Maybe for the living, but by ghost standards, it sounded like a smashing eve…”

“Will you three shut up! He’s going to kill!” Harry yelled, ending the conversation about the Death Day Party.

Ron, Draco, and Hermione silently watched Harry with fear and concern. The dark-haired wizard looked like a mad man slinking along the walls and muttering to himself. They followed close behind, keeping a sharp eye on him to ensure he didn’t hurt himself. After following Harry up a flight of steps, it was Ron who broke the silence first.

“Harry? Mate, are you alright?”

“It’s the voice again. He said he’s going to kill,” Harry forewarned, continuing to follow the threat.

“What voice?” Hermione asked.

“The voice I heard during detention with Lockhart. It said it smelled blood. That it’s hungry and wants… he wants to kill!” Harry shouted, darting down the second-floor corridor. They wandered around for a moment, Harry looking all over for something that wasn’t there.

“Damn! It’s gone!” the boy-who-lived growled in frustration.

“Harry, what the bloody hell was that all about?” Ron demanded.

Before Harry could give an explanation, Hermione gasped. Draco, Ron, and Harry looked up to see shiny red blood dripping from the wall.

Hermione was whispering the message to herself over and over, trying to make sense of it. She couldn’t remember reading anything about a secret chamber in Hogwarts, A History. What did the warning mean? She jumped a little when she felt Draco bush against her hand.

“Don’t spiral, Love. It’s going to be alright,” he whispered in her ear so only she could hear him.

“Look over there! It’s Mrs. Norris!” Ron called out, pointing to the lifeless Maine Coon hanging from one of the torches. Harry walked closer to examine the animal, stepping in a puddle of water, when the loud sound of stomping feet and happy chatter broke out in the hallway. The fest must be over! Now, it was too late to try and make a run from the scene as the corridor was quickly blocked on all sides by students edging closer to look at the horrendous site.

From behind Hermione, Vincent Crabbe spoke up, “Enemies of the heir, beware?

“Good, the mudbloods will be next,” Theo replied with a smug look on his face. Draco gritted his teeth at Theo’s comment, and Ron looked ready to stage a repeat of the slug incident, when Flitch pushed his way through the crowd. He cried out, clutching his heart at the sight of his familiar, and started to belligerently shout, demanding to know who killed Mrs. Norris.

“You!” He pointed a long, crooked finger at Harry. “You murdered my cat! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill…”

“Argus! Enough!” Dumbledore commanded. His usually composed features morphed into a state of shock as he read the message before ordering the house prefects to escort their students back to their respective Common Rooms. The Headmaster pointed at the four Gryffindors and told them to remain for questioning.

“Oh, such a shame! If only I had been here a few seconds earlier. I know the counter curse that could have spared her life!” Lockhart boasted with faux sympathy in his voice, making Filch burst into hysterics once more.

Harry, Draco, Ron, and Hermione waited silently until all the students had evacuated the corridor. McGonagall stepped forward to take a closer look at Mrs. Norris’s suspended stiff body.

“Albus, I believe she has been petrified. How I cannot say.”

“Ask him!” Flitch spat, once again, pointing at Harry. “He’s the one that done it!”

“I didn’t touch Mrs. Norris!” Harry defended himself.

“Rubbish!” Filch snarled at the boy.

“If I might, Headmaster?” Snape stepped forward, “Perhaps Mr. Potter and company were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. However, the circumstances are suspicious. I, for one, don’t recall seeing any of you at dinner.”

The four looked between each either, as if silently asking who should go first when Draco spoke up. “We had another engagement, Professor. You see, Sir Nicholas invited us to his Death Day Party, and it was the same time as the Halloween feast.”

“How coincidental…” Snape drawled with a slight sneer curling his mouth. “And why did you not join the feast afterward?”

“We weren’t hungry,” Ron piped up at the same time Hermione said they were tired.

“What Ron and Hermione mean is, we weren’t hungry, and the party was exhausting. We decided to head back to the Gryffindor Common Room when we found Mrs. Norris,” Harry finished the fabricated version of the truth.

Snape raised an eyebrow at the young students, not entirely believing their story. He turned to see what Dumbledore had to say about the matter.

“Innocent until proven guilty, Severus.”

“My cat has been petrified! I want to see some punishment!” Filch shrieked.

“We will be able to cure her, Argus,” Dumbledore reassured patiently. “As I understand it, Madam Sprout has a very healthy growth of Mandrake. When matured, a potion will be made, which will revive Mrs. Norris. In the meantime, I strongly recommend caution to all.”

The last warning was directed towards the quartet. When the students nodded in understanding, Dumbledore allowed them to return to their dorms for the night. As they were walking through the grand staircase to the seventh floor, Harry asked, “Do you think I should have told them? About the voice?”

“Absolutely not,” Draco asserted.

“They’ll think you’ve gone mad!” Ron agreed.

“Even in the Wizarding World, hearing voices isn’t a good sign, Harry,” Hermione stated. “It’s all a bit strange. You hear a voice, a voice only you can hear, and then Mrs. Norris turns up petrified.”

“I think calling all this strange is the understatement of the century,” Draco added, unhelpfully.

“What even is the Chamber of Secrets? What does it mean if it’s been opened?” Harry asked the group.

“My older brother Bill used to talk about mystery vaults in Hogwarts, but I don’t remember him mentioning anything like a secret chamber,” Ron mentioned.

“I can’t believe I left it at home!” Hermione sighed, exasperated with herself.

“Left what?” Draco asked.

“My copy of Hogwarts, A History. I didn’t have room in my trunk because of all the texts Lockhart required!” she explained.

“I have my copy back in the dorm. Let’s get back and check it out,” Draco suggested.

Ron loudly yawned. “Can we check it in the morning? It’s midnight!”

“I don’t think I can stay awake long enough to read it,” Harry concurred. With the decision made to continue the investigation in the morning, the young Gryffindors made their way back to their dormitories.

_________________________

“Aright, love. Have at it!” Draco declared playfully, handing his copy of Hogwarts, A History, to Hermione the next morning at breakfast.

“Good thing, Draco. I actually went to the library, curious to see how many copies they had on the shelf, and they are already checked out! There’s even a waiting list that’s backed-up for weeks!” She exclaimed.

Harry chuckled. “Only you would stop at the library before breakfast.”

“You hush,” she jested back, actively searching the table of contents. She made a sound of excitement when she found the chapter she was looking for. “Here! Take a look.”

Harry, Ron, and Draco leaned forward to read the page in the center of the table:

Chapter XIII

The Chamber of Secrets

The legend of the Chamber of Secrets is the most enigmatic of all tales concerning the establishing of  Hogwarts . When the four greatest  witches and wizards  of their age,  Godric Gryffindor ,  Helga Hufflepuff ,  Rowena Ravenclaw  and  Salazar Slytherin , came together to establish a school for those with  magical  abilities, it was logical that they choose a location far away from the eyes of  non-magical people  due to the climate of  persecution  prevalent at that time. Records show that the Hogwarts founders worked together for several years, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated.

However, a rift grew between Slytherin and the others when he criticized the number of students being admitted who came from  non-magical families . Slytherin believed that magical learning should be kept within  all-magic families  and that students not of this parentage were untrustworthy. Eventually, a serious argument arose between Slytherin and Gryffindor regarding the subject and such was the acrimony of the disagreement, Slytherin left the school for good.

The legend of the Chamber of Secrets arises from Slytherin's departure and has been the subject of debate for many centuries. The legend itself concerns a chamber supposedly constructed by Slytherin deep beneath the school that he kept a secret from the other founders and sealed so that none would be able to open it until his own true  heir  arrived at the school. The story goes that when Slytherin's true heir returns they alone will be able to open the Chamber of Secrets and release the  horror  within - a horror that will purge the school of those whom Slytherin believed were unworthy of studying magic.

After many extensive searches of Hogwarts over the past nine hundred and fifty years, most reputable scholars agree that the existence of the Chamber of Secrets is a fanciful tale concocted by Slytherin’s supporters. While researching this book, the author consulted the newly appointed headmaster of Hogwarts, Professor  Albus Dumbledore , who stated that during his time at the school he had personally seen nothing to convince him that the legend was based on anything other and supposition.

“Blimey! I knew Salazar Slytherin was a looney, but I didn’t know he started all this pureblood nonsense,” Ron said to the group. “You couldn’t pay me all the galleons in the world to be sorted into that house! Bad apples, all of them…”

“Ron!” Hermione admonished upon seeing the look on Draco’s face. The blond wizard was clenching his jaw and clearly biting his tongue to keep a harsh retort back. While it was true that a good majority of Slytherins were pureblood and followed similar ideals as the house’s founder, not every one of them was a bigoted fool. Never mind the fact that Merlin, one of the most famous wizards of all time, had been a Slytherin; his Aunt Andromeda, who had rejected the ideology so thoroughly that she had fled her family and married a muggleborn, had been sorted there as well. His mother didn’t talk about Aunt Andromeda much, mostly because his father had forbidden the topic of familial blood traitors. Still, Draco eventually learned that his Aunt had been disowned for not following the Black family values and had fought bravely against You-Know-Who during the First Wizarding War. Despite not having qualities that appeared to be fundamental criteria for being sorted into the house of snakes, the woman had been clever enough to survive. She was living with his Uncle Ted and Cousin Nymphadora. Family he had never met! He knew his mother mourned the lost connection with her sister, but there was always hope they could reconcile one day.

“Oh, sorry, Mate,” Ron apologized sheepishly, “I didn’t mean…”

“It’s fine, Weasley. Most of my family is like that, but not all of them,” Draco replied cryptically, wanting to drop the subject.

“Come on. We should get going to Transfiguration,” Harry suggested, standing and figuratively leaving the sobering conversation at the table.

________________________

“Hermione! Let me have a look at your History of Magic essay! I only need 2 more inches! Please?” Ron begged later that night in the Common Room.

“No. You’ve had 10 whole days to complete it, Ron. I’m not letting you copy off my work,” she snapped back.

While the two continued to bicker, Draco stared at his Charms textbook, not really comprehending the words on the page. His mind was reeling with everything that had happened in the past 24 hours. If Salazar Slytherin had managed to create a mysterious chamber within the castle, where was it? What monstrous creature was hidden in its depts? Why, and more importantly, how did it petrify Mrs. Norris? Were the voices Harry was hearing connected to the chamber? And who in the name of Merlin’s hairy ball sack was the Heir of Slytherin?

“Oi, Draco, are you alright?” Harry nudged his friend’s arm, rousing him from his thoughts.

“Sorry, Mate. Just thinking,” Draco mumbled.

“Seriously, are you alright? I said I was sorry about what I said this morning,” Ron said.

“It’s not that. I was just thinking about the Chamber of Secrets. If it opened last night, then that means the Heir of Slytherin has returned to Hogwarts.”

“Who could it be, though?” Hermione asked in a quiet voice, “Who would want to purge all the Squibs and muggleborns out of Hogwarts?”

“Let’s think, who do we know who thinks all muggleborns are scum?” Ron questioned in mock puzzlement. He then whispered a quiet thanks to Draco for letting him look at his History of Magic paper.

“Please, you can’t possibly think it’s Nott,” Hermione stated skeptically, before glaring at Draco disapprovingly.

“Of course, I do! You heard him. ‘Good, the mudbloods will be next!’ Doesn’t that sound like someone who fits the profile?” Ron opened the question up to the group, hoping that Draco or Harry would weigh in.

“While Theo has definitively embraced the ‘Slytherin way’, I don’t believe he is the heir,” Draco politely disagreed with Ron’s theory.

“Well, then who do you think it is?” Ron questioned.

“I honestly don’t know,” Draco replied, and Harry also shook his head.

“Well, it has to be someone who is pureblooded and in Slytherin,” Ron pointed out.

“So that probably narrows it down to about 21% of the school population,” Hermione chimed in.

“But how do we prove who it is?” Harry asked darkly.

Hermione’s eyes lit up as a plan took shape in her head, “I have an idea. Mind you, we will be breaking about 50 school rules. And it will be dangerous. Not to mention, we will need a resident pureblood expert.”

Draco smirked at Hermione’s beaming smile. She had been looking directly at him when she had added her last stipulation.

“That’s great, Hermione, but where are we going to find a resident pureblood expert?” Ron asked.

Harry laughed. “He’s sitting across from you.”

Draco waved his hand at Ron as if he was saying hello to the redhead. Ron smiled as understanding dawned on him. “Of course! You grew up learning about the sacred twenty-eight! You know everyone in their bloodlines.”

“Exactly! Who knew such useless knowledge would actually come in handy?”

“I need to get a book from the Restricted Section. Meet me tomorrow at noon in the girl’s bathroom on the second floor,” Hermione ordered, getting up from the table and heading to the girl’s dormitory for the night.

“But you need…” Ron tried to call out to her, but Hermione was already gone. He turned to Harry and Draco. "She needs permission from a teacher to get a book out of the Restricted Section. How is she going to pull that off?”

Draco gave Ron a knowing look. “Trust me. Hermione has her ways.”

Chapter Text

The next day at exactly noon, Harry, Ron, and Draco were pacing back and forth in the girl’s lavatory on the second floor. Hermione assured the boys that morning that there was nothing for them to be embarrassed about because no one ever went near there. More importantly, it would allow them the privacy they needed to carry out her plan. Ron whimpered at the sight of spiders crawling around the wall and out a crack near a window. Harry and Draco tried valiantly to avoid laughing at their friend’s fear, and mostly succeeded, when Ron suddenly changed the topic in an attempt to distract himself.

“Have you noticed anything weird about Ginny lately?”

“I mean, I don’t really know your sister, Ron,” Draco stuttered, caught a little off guard by the question.

“Right, I barely know Ginny myself, but she seems fine to me,” Harry affirmed.

“Percy and I got into a fight about her this morning. He kept going on and on about how upset she was over Filch’s cat, and she thinks we’re going to get expelled,” Ron pointed between the three of them to indicate who he was referring.

“Why would she think that?” Harry asked, confused.

“Beats me! But I don’t think Percy’s concerned with Ginny’s welfare. He’s just worried we are going to ruin his chances for Head Boy.”

“Is that why he took five points away from Gryffindor?” Draco questioned flatly, raising an eyebrow at Ron.

“Maybe…” the redhead admitted.

“BOYS IN THE LAVATORY! WHY ARE BOYS IN THE LAVATORY!” The trio jumped in surprise as a voice shrieked from one of the stalls. A ghost of a girl in old Ravenclaw robes glided over to float in front of the three intruders. 

“I thought Hermione said no one comes in here!” Ron whined.

“No one?! NO ONE?” the ghost shouted, getting Ron’s attention. “No, I guess I’m nothing. No one wants to talk to miserable, ugly, Moaning Myrtle!”

The boys watched wide-eyed as the ghost, Myrtle, hysterically sobbed and plunged herself into one of the toilets.

“Bloody hell was that all about?” Ron asked.

“That is Moaning Myrtle. She’s the ghost that haunts this bathroom and the reason why it’s always out of order,” Hermione explained, appearing behind them.

“About time, Hermione! What took you so long?” Ron questioned her.

“Sorry, Lockhart wouldn’t stop talking!” she explained, a bit perturbed.

“So that’s how you got into the Restricted Section!” Draco laughed.

“That brainless git didn’t even look at the book I wanted! Honestly, what did I ever see in him?” Hermione remarked as she pulled out a large leather-bound tome titled Moste Potente Potions.

“Maybe it was his brilliant bestselling novels?” Draco teased her.

“Or his Witch Weekly’s most charming smile?” Ron mimicked, getting Harry and Draco to laugh.

“No, I think it was when he winked at her for guessing his ‘secret ambition’… you know, starting his own line of hair care products… Seriously?” Harry joined in. The boys snorted in amusement at their jesting.

“Har-har! Can we please focus?” Hermione fixed them with a pointed look, clearly not amused.

“Sorry, Love. But in our defense, you left yourself open for that one,” Draco explained, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Alright, here’s what we know. The Heir of Slytherin has returned to Hogwarts and has opened the Chamber of Secrets, which means that whoever it is must be a pureblood and inside the house itself. So, the only way to successfully determine the identity of the heir is to infiltrate Slytherin House.”

“Right, Hermione. And how are we going to do that? We can’t just very well waltz into the Slytherin Common Room and ask them to tell us who the heir is,” Ron said sarcastically.

“Actually, you can… if you are disguised as someone else. Boys, I present to you…Polyjuice Potion,” Hermione held out the recipe for them to see.

“Of course! It will transform us into anyone we choose for an hour,” Draco added, quickly skimming the page.

“Which means we can turn into someone who’s in Slytherin. That’s perfect! How long will it take to brew?” Harry asked.

“Well… I’ve never seen a more complicated potion…” Hermione trailed off, wringing her hands nervously.

“How long, Hermione?” Harry repeated.

“A month.”

“A month? Hermione! If the Heir of Slytherin has returned to Hogwarts, they could attack half the muggleborns in the school by then!” Harry cried out.

“I know. But it’s the only plan we’ve got,” she stated. “Besides, this is only part one of the plan. You can spend the time studying the pureblood lines with Draco while I brew. That way, you can be more efficient when you question the house.”

“Hermione, where are you going to get all these ingredients? The lacewing flies, leeches, fluxweed, and knotgrass are easy enough. Those are in the student store-cupboard.  But powdered horn of a bicorn and shredded boomslang skin? There’s no way you can…” Draco stopped talking when he saw Hermione looking up at him with wide, doe-like eyes. She was playfully batting her eyelashes and softly smiling at him. Realizing what she was getting at, he cried out, “No! No, no, no, no, not happening!”

"Please, Draco? You are the only one he likes!” Hermione pleaded.

“He tolerates me, because he is friends with my parents!” he corrected her.

“What in the name of Merlin’s beard are they yelling about?” Ron whispered to Harry. The dark-haired wizard shrugged his shoulders.

“Exactly! If you get caught, he won’t punish you as severely! If Harry, Ron, or I try… we would definitely be expelled!” she explained.

“Alright, one of you tell us what’s going on, now!” Ron cut in.

Draco took a deep breath. “Hermione wants me to steal some of the ingredients from Snape’s personal supplies.”

Harry raised his eyes in shock while Ron let out a low whistle.

“Oh, don’t chicken out now, Draco! Please? I don’t want to break the rules any more than you do, but there is a monster roaming around Hogwarts just waiting to attack muggleborns. People like me!” she paused a moment to let her words sink in, “If you don’t want to help get the ingredients, then I’ll just… turn the book back into Madam Pince right now and…”

“Hermione, stop,” Draco’s voice was barely above a whisper when he continued. “Okay, I’ll do it.”

The next thing he knew, Hermione threw her arms around his shoulders, hugging him fiercely. His mind took a few minutes to catch up with his body before he slowly brought his arms around, returning her embrace.

“Thank you, Draco,” she whispered in his ear, her breath tickling his skin. Before he could blink, she pulled out of their hug, taking the potions book with her. “Right, so we can set up our base of operations here. I’ll get the rest of the supplies and start brewing as soon as possible.”

_________________

Sometimes the young Gryffindors felt like they lived a double life. On the one hand, they stopped monsters and threats to their lives, while on the other hand, they were just normal school kids with classes, homework, and Quidditch, of course!

This past Saturday was the first match of the season, opening with Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Unfortunately, because of his fight with Theo, Draco had been banned from participating in this game as an extra. Even though he couldn’t help out the team, the blond wizard still watched and gave his support from the stands. In true Slytherin fashion, Nott made his debut as the house of snake’s new Seeker, spending most of the match chasing and trying to taunt Harry. The insults did nothing to deter the boy-who-lived as he remained steady and focused until he caught the snitch and won the game.

Everyone was in high spirits in Gryffindor tower until McGonagall called the house to order on Sunday morning to inform them that Colin Creevy had been petrified the night before. Angry and saddened for the young kid, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco decided to head to the second-floor bathroom. Hermione was efficient as usual and had already started stewing the lacewing flies (according to the recipe, this step required 21 days) when Harry spoke.

“It’s the Heir of Slytherin. He conducted another attack!”

“I know, mate. But there isn’t anything we can do for Colin now,” Ron said, trying to calm Harry down.

“We can start by going through the pureblood Slytherins,” Draco suggested. He had managed to find an abandoned chalkboard that they could use to keep track of all the names.

“Right, let’s get started,” Harry relented, sitting down next to Ron as Draco lectured. He did not skip anything! Draco methodically went through the names one by one, teaching them the lineages the way Lucius taught him. He started with the Sacred twenty-eight: listing Theo Nott, Pansy Parkinson, and Daphne Greenglass before moving on through other Slytherins who were considered pureblood but not as elite, like Blaise Zabini, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Zacharias Smith, and Aurora Runcorn. While Harry was grateful for Draco’s knowledge, he did not envy his friend for having to grow up memorizing this information.

“And from what I understand, that should be everyone,” Draco concluded.

“Right, time to narrow down the suspects,” Harry suggested.

“Sure, top of the list, we have Theo Nott,” Ron declared.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Ron, I’m telling you. It’s not Theo.”

Ron smirked, thinking Draco was making a joke. When the redhead realized the other boy was serious, he elaborated. “But it makes sense! Nott is a member of the sacred twenty-eight. His ancestor literally wrote the book for Morgana’s sake!”

“I grew up with him. I’m telling you, there is no way he can be the Heir of Slytherin,” Draco defended.

“Compromise. Let’s leave Nott on the list, but not make him our top suspect,” Harry offered, hoping to get them back on track.

“Alright, but then, who do you think is the heir?” Ron challenged Draco.

“Honestly, I don’t think any of these names are viable candidates. Unless someone changed their surname when they came to Hogwarts.”

“Why would someone do that?” Harry asked.

Hermione snorted. “I think that’s a bit obvious. If I had a recognizable surname associated with Salazar Slytherin, then I’d change it. I wouldn’t want people accosting me in the hallways when all I was trying to do was get to class.”

Draco snapped his fingers. “Love! That’s it! Dobby!”

There was a small pop, and then magically, Dobby the house-elf appeared before the young Gryffindors.

“Master Draco called for Dobby?” the elf asked tentatively.

“Yes, I need you to bring me the Malfoy copy of the Pure-Blood Directory from the manor. Please, it’s urgent,” Draco commanded.

“You is trying to discover the plot! The plot to make most terrible things happen, now that history is to repeat itself!” the elf gasped, “Harry Potter is at Hogwarts! Harry Potter should have gone back home when he missed the train!”

“It was you? You closed the barrier and almost got me and Ron expelled?” Harry shouted, outraged.

“You did what? Dobby! I didn’t ask you to do that!” Draco bellowed, the ire in his voice echoing off the walls.

The elf winced, covering his head. “Dobby was trying to protect Harry Potter.”

“Well, you can stop now. I am ordering you right now to stop protecting Harry,” Draco sighed, rubbing his temples as if to stay a headache.

“Dobby feels most contrite, sir. Dobby will accept any punishment Master Draco sees fit.”

Draco looked at the elf, confused, before kneeling to eye level, softening his voice. "Dobby, it’s me. I’ve never hit you… will never hit you. You don’t need a punishment. And don’t you dare go and hurt yourself. It was just a misunderstanding. Got it?”

The house elf started crying when Draco embraced the poor creature, his sobs and sniffles sounded pathetic as he accepted the young wizard’s comfort. Eventually, the crying subsided, and Draco handed a tissue to the elf to prevent him from blowing his nose on the rags that constituted his clothing.

“Dobby offers his most sincerest apologies, Master Draco.”

“It’s okay, Dobby,” Draco whispered.

“Dobby will go fetch the book Master Draco requested.” With another snap of his fingers, the house elf disappeared, leaving behind the bewildered Gryffindors.

“Wow, mate!” Ron exclaimed, “You’ve been holding out on us!”

“Draco, who exactly was that?” Hermione inquired, ignoring Ron’s statement.

Taking a deep breath, Draco divulged everything that had been happening this past summer. He explained who Dobby was and his connection with Harry. He told them all about how strangely his father had been acting and the difficulty he faced when he confronted the elf, trying to find out more about the sinister plan. When he finished, Draco felt lighter and grateful for having the truth out in the open. He held his breath in the silence that followed his confession, waiting for his friends to say something. The young Gryffindor was worried that he had somehow damaged their friendship or trust and braced himself for the inevitable rejection. It was a colossal relief when it never came.

“Well, now we know what the plot is and who’s behind it,” Ron muttered. “Can’t say I’m surprised.”

“Why couldn’t you order Dobby to just tell you everything from the beginning instead of leaving you in the dark?” Harry asked.

“Because he couldn’t. He was ordered by my father not to. Any orders the head of the house gives supersedes all others,” Draco explained.

“Orders? Your family enslaved Dobby?” Hermione questioned; her mouth twisted into a scowl at the thought.

Draco couldn’t look at her as he nodded. She was about to chastise him when Ron butted in. “Come off it, Hermione. That’s just how things are in Wizarding World.”

“How things are!?” she screeched in disbelief.

“Honestly, guys, this isn’t the time to have an ethical debate about Draco’s house elves. We need to focus on the Chamber of Secrets,” Harry reminded them, bringing everyone back on topic. “Dobby said something that stuck out. He mentioned something about history repeating itself?”

At that moment, Dobby popped back into the bathroom. Draco took the proffered book and asked, “Dobby, did someone open the Chamber of Secrets before?”

The elf grunted and groaned in frustration, biting out that he could not tell Master Draco. The blond wizard shushed him, calming the elf and allowed the magical creature to return to the manor.

“Well, that confirms it. This has happened before,” Harry conceded.

“See! It must have been Mr. Nott! And now he’s shown Theo how to do it,” Ron hypothesized.  

Draco ignored the ridiculous theory, choosing to furiously turn through the pages until he came across the section he was seeking.

“Here it is. The House of Gaunt,” he said, reading from the page, “A Most Ancient wizarding family noted for a vein of instability and violence that flourished through the generations due to their habit of marrying their own cousins in order to keep their bloodline pure and retain the traits of their ancestor, most notably the ability to speak Parseltongue.”

“Of course, that makes sense! The Gaunt family must have been the descendants of Salazar Slytherin,” Hermione concluded.

“How so?” Harry asked.

“Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth. He could talk to snakes,” she explained.

“I can talk to snakes,” Harry blurted out.

The three Gryffindors abruptly turned their attention to Harry at his admission.

“You’re a Parselmouth?” Draco asked in disbelief.

“I mean… I guess. I accidentally set a python on my cousin Dudley at the zoo once,” Harry paused but then quickly corrected himself when he saw the look of fear in his friends’ eyes, “Once! But, so what? I bet loads of wizards can do it.”

“No, they can’t, Harry,” Draco said. “It’s not a very common gift. It’s a completely different language. You can’t understand it unless you’re a Parselmouth or a snake.”

“You mean I can speak another language? How can I speak another language without even knowing it?” Harry pondered.

“I don’t know,” Hermione remarked. “But Harry, you shouldn’t tell anyone you can talk to snakes. As far as I know, Salazar Slytherin’s family were the only wizards recorded to have the ability.”

“She’s right. If you tell anyone else, then the whole school is going to think you’re his great-great-great-great grandson or something,” Ron concurred.

“But I’m not! I can’t be!” Harry asserted.

“We know that Mate. We’re just saying not everyone else will believe you,” Ron reassured his friend.

Harry was silent, trying to process the information when Hermione spoke up, “So, your theory is that someone in Slytherin knows they are possibly related to the Gaunt family, have enrolled in Hogwarts under a different surname, and thus they are the Heir of Slytherin. The question is, who would know that?”

“Nott would know!” Ron emphasized, waving his hands in the air.

“Weasley…” Draco stopped for a minute to think about the connection his friend was making, “Actually, that’s not a bad idea.”

“Come again?” Hermione raised an eyebrow at Draco.

“I know I keep saying Nott isn’t the heir, and I still stand by that opinion. But, he might know who is!  Being the descendant of the author of the directory, he would know the bloodlines that weren’t published,” Draco theorized.

“Bloodlines that could connect to the Gaunts,” Hermione added at the same time Ron smiled smugly at the group for his ingenuity.

Harry nodded in approval. “We have a new plan. We need to turn into Zabini, Crabbe, and Goyle and find out what he knows.”

Everyone was satisfied with the new course of action and progress they had made that afternoon. Hermione was cleaning up when Ron’s stomach grumbled. The redhead tried to cast a Tempus charm, which failed due to his broken wand. McGonagall had already warned the young Weasley that it needed to be replaced as soon as possible. Harry offered to check the time for him, gasping when he saw that they had been in the bathroom for nearly four hours.

“Ron and I are going to head to the Great Hall for dinner. You coming?” Harry asked.  

“I need to do some more prep work, but I’ll be down in a little while,” Hermione replied.

Draco gave the boys a nod to go ahead without him as he stayed behind with Hermione. She refused to look at him, her anger over Dobby’s situation returning and evident across her face. Sighing, he mustered as much courage as he could to broach the subject.

“Hermione, please talk to me.”

“What’s there to say? You own slaves and see nothing wrong with it. You don’t care about their freedom or wellbeing,” she quipped apathetically.

“That’s not true, Hermione. You don’t know the whole story,” Draco retorted, trying to keep himself from snapping at her.

“What story is there to tell? You’ve enslaved, abused, and refuse to free Dobby! There is nothing you can say that will change my mind about this,” she seethed, slamming the potions book shut.

“Are you really going to sit there and judge me without giving me a chance to explain?” Draco accused, refusing to look away from Hermione until she acknowledged him.

The silence was heavy between them as Hermione took a deep breath and looked at Draco. She tried to compose herself and not immediately reach out to comfort him, to beg for forgiveness upon seeing the agonized look in his grey eyes. She was all too familiar with that feeling of losing control of your mind, giving in to the spiraling thoughts as they piled on one after another. Hermione knew exactly what he was going through and decided that this type of emotional response must have an equally traumatic story to explain. Steadying herself, she finally spoke. “Alright. I’ll listen.”

Draco let out the breath he had been holding, grateful for the chance to tell his tale. He had been so worried that Hermione would end their friendship at any moment without listening to his defense. As soon as that thought entered his mind, it was like he couldn’t stop the trail that followed. Draco shifted the directory off his lap and positioned himself in front of her, not allowing her to look away or retreat. Regaining control, he began his story.

“House elves are classified as magical creatures. They are sentient, like you and me. They can have friendships, fall in love, have families, and even have their own brand of magic. That’s how Dobby can get past the Hogwarts’ anti-apparition wards… they don’t block elf magic. Dobby’s family has served the Malfoys for at least four generations. He must be obedient to the members of the house until the day he is set free. The only way you can free an elf is by gifting them with clothes.”

“Why can’t you free him?” Hermione interjected.

“It’s complicated…”

“Try me,” she pried with a sharp edge to her voice.

Taking another deep breath, Draco explained. “I accidentally set Dobby’s brother free when I was five years old. Luna and I were playing inside the manor one day, and she convinced me to ask Bobby, Dobby’s brother, to play with us. She wanted him to wear this costume she brought with her that, I think, was supposed to be a Kappa. I didn’t understand why Bobby wouldn’t wear it, so Luna and I devised a plan to corner the elf so I could get the suit over his head. Needless to say, it worked, and Bobby started wailing. My father came running into the room and when he realized what I had done…”

“What happened?” Hermione whispered.

“He tortured Dobby and made me watch, so I would understand that my actions have consequences.”

Hermione gasped. “Draco…”

“I’ve never seen my father angrier in my life than when he threw curse after curse at Dobby. The spells left several scars, and I felt so guilty… still feel so guilty. He may not have been able to hurt me, being his only heir and all, but that doesn’t mean I walked away from that unharmed.”  

She propped herself up on her knees, leaning over to hug her friend. “I’m so sorry, Draco.”

“Now you know why I can’t free Dobby. But, I do what I can to help him! Later that night, Dobby snuck into my room and told me that he wasn’t upset and forgave me. He was happy that Bobby was free and hoped a better family would take him under their care. Or even better, that Bobby would make a life for himself and live with no master. That was when Dobby and I became friends,” Draco said, trying not to cry.

“Aren’t there laws to protect the elves?” Hermione asked, pulling out of the hug.

Draco scoffed. “Yeah, but the ministry doesn’t enforce them.”

“Oh honestly! How is the Wizarding World just as prejudicial and bureaucratic as the muggle world?” she criticized.

“I can’t say I know much about the muggle government, but you would think the people in charge would care,” Draco added, not bothering to hide the cynicism in his voice.

“Well, then we are just going to have to find a way to free Dobby,” Hermione declared, giving Draco a small smile. “And come up with a way to help the other house-elves.”

Draco returned her smile. “I’d like that.”

Getting up from the floor, she held her hand out to help Draco stand. “Come on. Let’s get to the Great Hall before Ron eats all the food.”

Draco laughed. “Honestly, where does he store it all?”

____________________________

The days felt like they were dragging until it was finally the second week of December. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco had put their names down to stay at school over the holidays, patiently waiting for the Polyjuice Potion to finish. Hermione checked the potion’s progress every day, and Draco would assist her when he could. Between homework, research, and playing Quidditch, Draco constantly felt the pressure of managing his responsibilities. In a moment of self-doubt, Hermione offered to have Draco take over the final steps of the potion now that Harry and Ron had a decent enough understanding of the bloodlines, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Draco knew that Hermione was just as competent, if not more so, in her academic and practical abilities. He believed she was more than capable of completing the potion and often reminded her of how brilliant and clever she was. While the compliments were true, Draco might have also been praising her, at least in part, to make her blush that adorable scarlet color that graced the top of her cheeks when she was embarrassed. Though, if you asked him, he would deny that it brought out the light dusting of her freckles and brightened her beautiful brown eyes.

About a week and a half later, Hermione was almost ready for the next step and needed Draco to get the remaining ingredients during the double potions lesson. It was their last opportunity before classes let out for break. They were standing around their cauldrons watching Snape as he inspected the various brews of Swelling Solution.

“When he gets to Neville, Harry will cause a distraction so you can sneak into his office,” Hermione whispered to Draco.

The Potions Master rounded the corner of the table and scrutinized Draco’s efforts. “Acceptable, Mr. Malfoy.” He then leered at Hermione’s concoction, “This is barely tolerable, Miss Granger.”

Draco didn’t even hear the remarks Snape made about Harry’s or Ron’s solution. He was too busy trying not to comment that Hermione’s potion looked precisely the same as his and that the Professor’s feedback was completely unwarranted. But now wasn’t the time to call his former mentor out. No, Draco needed to focus.

He knew it was almost time to spring into action when he heard Neville’s whimpering from the end of the table. Hermione gave him a nod, his cue to duck and wait for Harry to throw one of Fred’s Filibuster fireworks into Goyle’s cauldron. The pranking device mixed into the potion and caused a chemical reaction which created an explosion that splattered the Slytherins within its vicinity. Snape was too busy trying to calm the hysterics and cure the affected students to notice Draco slipping in and out of his office. The Gryffindor returned victoriously and put the ingredients in Hermione’s bag.

While those hit with the Swelling Solution passed around the antidote, Snape inspected Goyle’s cauldron and pulled out the destroyed packaging. He sneered at the classroom, addressing them in a low, threatening tone. “Who threw this?!?”

No one answered. After a few moments of trying to intimidate the students into a confession, Snape finally spoke. “Since the culprit won’t come forward, every house but Slytherin is to write a 20-inch essay on the properties of the Swelling Solution and its common uses. Due at the start of the term. Should make for an enjoyable holiday.”

Everyone was griping about the essay assigned over the break as the masses of students left the Potion’s classroom. Even though the assignment would be torture, it was all going to be worth it once the Polyjuice Potion was complete.

Chapter Text

During the last week of classes, Lockhart decided to start a dueling club for any students interested in learning extra defensive magic. None in the quartet wanted to participate, thinking that the entire event would be a disaster given Lockhart’s incompetency. Plus, the club was being co-hosted by Snape, making it an even less appealing option. When Lockhart saw that Harry didn’t sign up, the professor cornered the boy-who-lived outside of his class, begging him to come to the first meeting that night.  It was clear the man would not be taking no for an answer, forcing Harry to reluctantly accept the invitation and drag Draco and Ron with him. Hermione, who had been lucky enough to escape, quite gleefully rubbed in the boys’ faces that she would be spending her evening in the library doing extra research on Salazar Slytherin. At about ten minutes to eight, the boys made their way down to the Great Hall.

“This is the last time I let you rope me into one of these ‘engagements,’” Ron griped as they entered the room. The Great Hall had been completely transformed. There was now a long dueling stage near the fireplace and safety mats spread evenly across the rest of the stone floor.

“Gather round!” Lockhart called from atop of the stage. He was wearing ostentatious protective padding that was lined with gold over which he had draped an emerald green cape that he threw in the crowd. Draco noticed that Alicia Spinnet had caught the cloak, smiling and lovingly caressing the fabric like one would pet a cat.

“Can everybody see me? Can you all hear me?” Lockhart paused to survey the room, “Excellent! In light of recent events, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club to train you all up in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions. For full details, please see my published works.”

Draco failed to suppress a groan when Lockhart winked at a group of sixth-year girls. Harry gently nudged his arm, successfully quieting his friend as Snape stepped up onto the platform.

“Allow me to introduce my assistant, Professor Snape. He has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we pair you off. Now, I don’t want any of you youngsters to worry. You’ll still have your Potions master when I’m through with him, never fear!”

“Imagine how amazing it would be if they finished each other off,” Ron muttered to his friends with an unholy gleam in his eyes.

“Please, Flophart doesn’t stand a chance against Snape,” Draco quietly shot back, causing Harry to chuckle softly.

The professors had just bowed to one another before performing a quarter turn and walking to opposite sides of the stage when Ron whispered, “2 knuts that Snape disarms Lockhart in five seconds.”

“3 knuts that Lockhart falls on his arse in four seconds,” Draco countered.

“And five knuts if both happen in three seconds,” Harry chimed in.

Shaking on the bet, the boys turned their attention toward the impending duel. Lockhart was still counting down when Snape’s disarming charm slammed into Lockhart’s chest! The force of the spell knocked the pretentious man flat on his back. Order of Merlin Third Class aside, the ridiculous wizard had been unable to maintain his hold on his wand, the slightly bent 9-inch cherry wood went flying across the room and into Hannah Abbot’s hands. The crowd gasped with mixed reactions of concern and astonishment as Lockhart slowly rose to his feet. No one noticed Harry pocketing his winnings when the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher spoke.

“An excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don’t mind me saying, it was pretty obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you, it would have been only too easy. Now, let’s pair off and practice.”

When Draco saw that Snape was assisting with the pairs, he realized that the boys were in quite a predicament being an odd number and was cursing Hermione for ditching them. Harry and Ron tried to sneak off to a corner mat, but Snape blocked their path.

“Oh, I don’t think so, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter. Pairs are to be with those of another house. Let’s see, Mr. Malfoy, I believe you can pair up with Miss Greengrass. Weasley, you can partner with Finnigan. Potter…” the Potions master sneered at Harry, “You can partner with Mr. Nott.”

The boys gave Harry a sympathetic look as he walked slowly toward Nott like a man on his way to the gallows. Ron was fortunate enough to have a good rapport with Seamus, since the boy was good friends with Dean and Neville, despite his sorting. Draco, however, was cautious in his approach to Daphne Greengrass.

“Hello, Draco,” she greeted, raising her wand out in preparation. Daphne was lean, fair-skinned, and had striking green eyes, traits that legend indicated she shared with her namesake. Her stick-straight champagne hair, which she usually wore in a headband, was pulled back in a ponytail to keep it out of her face.

“Daphne,” Draco returned, mimicking her movements.

“Interesting that we were partnered, don’t you agree?” She inquired, ignoring Lockhart’s minimal instructions.

“Is this some kind of tactic to distract me? Because, if it is, it won’t work,” Draco retorted, not in the mood for a Slytherin mind game. She may have looked the part of a dainty, future pureblood heiress, but Draco knew from their shared past that Daphne could be just as ruthless as any other member of her house. 

Daphne rolled her eyes before she bowed. Draco followed suit. They copied the demonstration, keeping their wands raised, as they stood by for Lockhart’s signal to begin.

“What are you waiting for, Draco?” Daphne taunted lightly.

“Ladies first,” he replied in the same tone.

She snorted. “Such a gentleman. Expelliarmus!”

A bolt of red light flew from Daphne’s wand in Draco’s direction. The Gryffindor instinctively reacted, ducking to the side and narrowly avoiding the spell.

“What was that for, Greengrass?!” Draco yelled at her.

“Lockhart said to disarm. I was merely following directions. Don’t get yourself in a tizzy just because you didn’t think to block it,” Daphne answered, perturbed.

Draco’s anger was in full force as he stalked closer to the Slytherin, getting in her face. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you? Just sitting back in that dungeon you call a Common Room, letting the Heir of Slytherin pick off muggleborns one by one? I don’t know what type of game you think you’re playing, Greengrass, but you aren’t going to win. You’re just like the rest of them: conceited, detached, and prejudiced.”

“Oh, you get sorted into Gryffindor, and all of a sudden, you are more righteous than Godric himself,” she spat back in a low tone, “Never forget where you come from, Draco Malfoy. Your blood is no different than mine. For all I know, you could be the heir.”

He snorted. “Please, that’s not possible.”

“Isn’t it? Your father was one of the Dark Lord’s most trusted and loyal servants. Maybe you tricked the hat into putting you in Gryffindor? Wonder how Granger would feel if she found out that was your plan all along?”

“You are insane,” Draco growled, clenching his fist to try and keep himself in check.

“Am I? I’m surprised you haven’t heard the rumors. Most of the school is talking about it… how it was a Malfoy who opened the Chamber all those years ago, and you, his progeny, have now returned to finish the task.”

“It’s not true!” Draco shouted, getting the attention of some of the other students nearby.

Daphne let out a long breath, attempting to defuse the situation. “See? It’s not nice to be stereotyped, now, is it? Maybe you will remember how that made you feel the next time you start thinking of me as a blood supremacist. You don’t know me, Draco Malfoy. So, don’t you dare stand there and judge me!”

Draco stood there stunned as he watched Daphne walk away with a Slytherin girl he did not recognize. Her words left him with more questions than answers. Was there really a rumor going around that he was the Heir of Slytherin? What did she know about the Chamber’s past? Had she just openly admitted to Draco that she didn’t believe in the pureblood ideology, even though her family was one of the sacred twenty-eight? Was this someone he could potentially trust with their mission, even though she was a possible suspect?

“Mate, you okay?” Ron asked, tapping Draco on the shoulder.

“Daphne just said… some really bizarre things,” he confessed. “We should go over them with Hermione in the common room.”

“Good idea,” Harry said, walking up to the boys. “Nott had some interesting things to say as well.”

“Oh, Merlin, did it have anything to do with the supposed rumor going around that I’m the Heir of Slytherin?” Draco guessed. 

“Yeah,” Harry admitted reluctantly.

“This isn’t going to make you feel any better, Mate, but Seamus had heard it too,” Ron added.

“Well spotted, Weasley. Because who wouldn’t be thrilled to know that people think they’re a descendant of an incestuous, homicidal bloodline that wants to kill muggleborns?!” Draco’s voice was dripping with sarcasm by the time he finished his rant.

Shrugging slightly at the worried look Ron shot him, Harry tried to soothe their friend on the way back to the dorms. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Nott probably started the rumor out of spite. Besides, everyone knows you and Hermione are best friends. Why would you be friends with someone you are trying to kill? It doesn’t make any sense!”

“Exactly! Nott’s trying to get under your skin, and people believe it. Don’t worry, Mate. We got your back,” Ron reassured, patting his shoulder.

“Thanks, guys,” Draco sighed, relieved, “Glad to know you at least believe I have a brain and know how to think for myself.”

The boys’ laughter came to a sudden halt when McGonagall approached them. “There you three are! You need to come with me this instant. There is something you should see.”

Wasting no time, the students followed their Head of House briskly up the stairs and into the Hospital Wing. Immediately to Draco’s right was a bed blocked from view by a curtain. He presumed it was Colin who was lying petrified behind the green fabric.

McGonagall stopped them as they came near the end of the row. “This might be a wee bit of a shock.”  

“Hermione…” Ron stuttered out, stunned at the sight of her stiff, cold body. Her right hand was clenched into a tight fist, as if she was holding something. Her face was pale and hard as stone. Hermione’s once bright and intelligent brown eyes were dim and unmoving like a corpse.

“What happened?” Harry asked, coming to stand by her side. Draco shuffled his feet to the other side of her bed, reaching out to gently brush a curl back from her cheek. Even her hair had transformed, making it feel brittle and coarse to the touch. What disturbed Draco the most was that the simple action had not elicited the blush that he had come to expect when he touched her face, that in fact her skin lacked any color at all and appeared to be completely devoid of live.  

“She was found outside the library along with this,” McGonagall held up a simple, silver hand mirror, “Does it mean anything to any of you?”

The boys shook their heads.

“Please return to Gryffindor Tower. I’ll be along shortly to address the students,” she ordered.

They walked back in silence, approaching the portrait of the fat lady with grim, vacant expressions. Draco snapped out the password. The painting reluctantly swung open to let them pass, commenting on their lack of manners. Most of the house was already gathered in the Common Room, speculating nervously about what McGonagall was going to say. As if summoned, the regal witch strolled in with a roll of parchment.

“May I have your attention, please? I need to inform you that there has been another attack. Hermione Granger was petrified outside the library this evening. Since this is the second attack, Professor Dumbledore has decided to implement a curfew. All students, including Prefects, will retire to their house dormitories every evening by 8:00, no exceptions.”

“Professor, what about Quidditch Practice?” Oliver Wood spoke up.

“Silence, Wood!” McGonagall ordered sternly. “This new curfew will be strictly enforced. Any student caught outside of the timeframe without being escorted by a teacher will face serious consequences.”

After McGonagall left, everyone in the house cornered Harry, Ron, and Draco to ask them what had happened. Questions came pouring in from all sides, overwhelming the young Gryffindors. Not able to speak or deal with the crowd, Draco stormed off towards the dorm room, plopping on his bed. He was furious with himself. Had he skipped the dueling club like he wanted, then she wouldn’t have been by herself in the library. Hermione might have been less vulnerable to attack. Hadn’t their experiences last year proven they needed to stick together; that they were stronger as a group? He knew it wasn’t helping anyone, but he couldn’t help but torture himself with visions of how terrifying it must have been to be attacked, all alone, with no way to get help. Unable to expel his rage in the way he wanted to, Draco screamed into his pillow for several minutes, just letting the emotion wash over him until he had no more energy to give. He was still lying on his bed, panting, when he felt his mattress dip. Harry and Ron were sitting at the foot, looking at him with concern.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked.

“No…” Draco’s voice broke as he answered honestly.

“Yeah, neither are we,” Ron stated, looking as exhausted as Draco felt. “What do we do about the Polyjuice Potion? It was only a few days away from being completed, but now…”

“I can finish it,” Draco announced flatly.

“You can?” Harry quirked an eyebrow at Draco.

The blond wizard scoffed. “Of course I can. I do have higher marks in Potions than Hermione. But this was her plan. At one point, she even offered to have me take over the process, but I couldn’t focus on the potion and teach you two at the same time.”

“Valid point,” Ron commented.

“If I remember correctly from the check-in this morning, the potion will be ready in a week. Before then, you need to get a piece of the person you are turning into,” Draco instructed.

“A piece? How am I supposed to cut off part of Crabbe’s flesh?!” Ron cried out.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. Just pull a hair.”

Harry and Ron sighed in relief as Draco continued. “Another thing to keep in mind is that you will have to hide the real Crabbe and Goyle. It won’t work if they suddenly walk in while you’re talking to Nott.”

“How do we do that?” Harry asked.

Softly smiling, Draco explained, “Hermione figured that out as well. She started brewing a Sleeping Draught this morning. I can lace a few muffins with it, and then you will be set. It shouldn’t be too difficult to get those two oafs to take the bait.”

“And, you’re sure that will work?” Ron wondered.

“It’s simple, but powerful,” Draco assured. “One thing that Hermione and I hadn’t quite figured out yet was how to get you into the Slytherin Common Room once you changed.”

“We know it’s in the dungeons, but no idea the exact location,” Harry agreed, thinking through the problem.

“I wonder…” Draco pondered.

“What?” Ron prodded. “Go on. Don’t leave us hanging.”

“Daphne said something to me earlier that implied she wasn’t on board with the muggleborn attacks. She basically admitted to me that she didn’t believe in all that pureblood crap and got upset when I implied she could be the heir.”

“Bloody hell,” Ron gasped.

“Do you think we can trust her? She’s sacred twenty-eight and a suspect,” Harry replied skeptically.

“I guess we’ll have to find out,” Draco asserted, forming a plan of how to get Daphne alone. 

__________________________

As luck would have it, Draco caught Daphne studying alone in the library's Herbology section a couple of days later. With it officially being winter break, hardly anyone wanted to visit the dusty stacks, which meant Draco could easily sneak in, talk to Daphne, and sneak back out without being noticed. Time was running out, leaving no room for failure in the Gryffindors’ mission. The pressure was on.

“Greengrass,” Draco greeted.

She sighed, a bit annoyed by the intrusion. “What do you want, Draco?”

“Did you mean what you said at the dueling club?” he outright asked her. Subtlety was sometimes overrated.

Daphne mumbled something under her breath that Draco couldn’t quite make out. It sounded vaguely, like, 'no tact at all,' before she looked up from her textbook and replied, “And what, exactly, did I say to you during the dueling club?”

“Don’t do that,” Draco asserted.

“Do what?” Daphne retorted.

“Play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.”

She remained silent, analyzing Draco to ascertain his motives. Truth be told, she didn’t truly know Draco all that well. Their fathers were associates, and their mothers were friendly, resulting in the occasional childhood playdate, but they hadn’t exactly been friends. As one of the few female heirs born to a sacred twenty-eight family, Daphne did not have many expectations in her privileged life except to marry well when she came of age. Her father, well before she was born, already had his sights set on the Malfoy Scion, that was until the little rebel went and got himself sorted into Gryffindor.

She was supposed to be everything a Slytherin girl ought to be: beautiful, ambitious, and cunning. She had been born with a natural beauty (thank Merlin for that), but that hadn’t made it any easier to make friends or reduced the need for her to watch her back, especially once she started Hogwarts. Daphne never got along with Pansy Parkinson. She thought the girl was shallow, self-centered, and couldn't hold an intellectual conversation unless it had to do with fashion, decor, or make-up. But what Pansy lacked in critical thinking, she more than made up for it in her ability to exploit someone's weaknesses. The moment Daphne declined Pansy’s friendship, she had sealed her fate as being Parkinson’s arch-rival. She spent her entire first year at Hogwarts being the victim of Pansy, Millicent Bulstrode’s, and Tracey Davis's taunts or pranks, each progressively worse than the last. The day she found her bed completely covered in mud was the proverbial straw that broke the camel’s back.

She hit Pansy with a tickling spell in retaliation, but it did nothing to deter the girl from screaming like a banshee, spewing curses at Daphne. The bullying went on until Aurora Runcorn walked into the dorm and hit Pansy with a silencing charm. The fellow Slytherin threatened to curse the pug-faced witch’s mouth shut permanently if she ever did anything so unhygienic as to have Millicent bring mud into the dorm room again. That was the day Daphne and Aurora became friends.

 Having been raised in a pit of snakes, Daphne learned that trust was difficult to earn and to never take anything at face value. It was a draconian lifestyle that could chip away at the soul and harden one’s heart. It was a path she and Aurora complained about, both admitting that they didn’t want to follow their families’ legacies. She berated herself when she accidentally let it slip to Draco that she didn’t support the muggleborn attacks like others in her house. While it wasn’t a very cunning thing to do, maybe she had done it as a cry for help? Maybe Draco and his friends were people who could stop the attacks. They had, after all, helped prevent the Dark Lord’s return last year. Deciding to hear Draco out, Daphne spoke.

“Okay. You’re right. It’s upsetting to see the muggleborn students targeted. Speaking of, I’m sorry about Hermione. I know you two are close.”  

Draco faltered for a moment before responding. “Thanks.”

“You and your gang are trying to figure out who the heir is, aren’t you? That’s why you confronted me when no one was around? To see if I would spill the house secrets?” Daphne theorized.

“Something like that…” Draco answered.

“Honestly, Draco. Don’t you think if I knew who the heir was, I would have reported them to the Headmaster by now?” she spat.  

“Don’t know. Don’t Slytherin’s protect their own?” Draco countered.

“Touché. But the lives of other students are a bit more important than house loyalty,” Daphne answered firmly. “I don’t think blood status matters. Nor do I think it’s a reason for someone to be hurt or killed over.”

Her resolute attitude was enough to convince Draco that Daphne could keep a secret and aid them in their mission to gain access to the Slytherin Common Room. Emerging from the stacks, Harry and Ron stood behind Draco, looking down at Daphne, impressed at how well their friend’s plan had worked. While he didn't one hundred percent agree that they could trust Daphne, Harry felt that this was their only option with the loss of Hermione. 

“What’s this?” Daphne trembled a bit, intimidated by being outnumbered.

“How would you like to help us stop the Heir of Slytherin?” Harry asked, offering her a hand with a friendly smile.

___________________

“I just want it on record that I don’t like this. She may not be a blood supremacist, but she’s still a snake,” Ron hissed quietly. After confronting her in the library, the boys had taken Daphne to the girl’s bathroom and showed her where the Polyjuice Potion was brewing.

“Objection noted,” Harry said wryly, keeping his voice low, “But we don’t exactly have a choice, now, do we?”

“If you boys are done conspiratorially whispering about me, do you mind explaining what this foul concoction is?” she demanded calmly from the other side of the room.

Sheepishly, the boys took turns describing their theory and what the plan was. They told her everything from Hermione brewing the Polyjuice Potion to how they would interrogate Nott about the heir. Daphne listened with rapt attention until they finished the tale.

“Run that by me again one more time,” Daphne ordered. “You’re saying you can actually transform into another person? With this?”

“The Polyjuice Potion will turn Harry and Ron into Crabbe and Goyle for an hour,” Draco explained patiently. “We need you to take Goyle-Harry and Crabbe-Ron to the Slytherin Common Room so that they can find out what Nott knows about what’s going on.”

“What about the real Greg and Vin?” she asked.

“Got it taken care of. Hermione and Draco brewed a Sleeping Draught that we are going to mix into a dessert,” Harry revealed. “Those two will eat anything.”

Daphne snorted. “You aren’t wrong.”

“Once we are in the Common Room, you don’t have to stick around. We can keep track of time and get out before we start changing,” Ron said dismissively.

Daphne laughed. “Oh, that’s funny, Weasley. Theo isn’t going to tell you two anything.”

“Why not? He is friends with them!?” Ron defended, indignantly. “Surly even Slytherins are capable of friendship.”

“Friend is a loose term. More like Theo uses Vincent and Greg when he doesn’t want to do something. Those two are so daft, I don’t think they know anything besides how to be a minion,” Daphne informed the Gryffindors.

“So, you’re saying if Ron and I walk up to Theo and ask him about the chamber, he’s just going to ignore us?” Harry clarified.

“Exactly. If you want Theo to reveal what he knows, then you need to employ a more advanced interrogation technique than just directly asking him.”

“Then what do you suggest, Daphne?” Draco asked.

“You and Theo used to be close. What’s the one thing that he always tries to achieve but can never really seem to do?” she posed the question to Draco. As soon as the words left her mouth, it was like a light bulb went off inside Draco’s mind.

“To make his father proud,” the blond wizard responded.

“Precisely. Nott, Sr. is an old-school pureblood bully who supported the Dark Lord. He’s most likely warned Theo that this year is going to test that loyalty and to do whatever it takes to end up in the good graces of the heir,” Daphne explained.

“How is this helpful?” Ron questioned, annoyed.

“Be patient, Weasley. I’m getting there.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “While what Theo desires the most is his father’s praise and approval, he also has one fatal flaw…pride.”

Seeing where Daphne was going with this, Draco chimed in. “You get Theo to talk about the heir by stroking his ego in front of a bunch of other people.”

“Yep,” Daphne popped the ending, “except, you two won’t be doing the talking. I will.”

“Come again?” Harry raised an eyebrow at her.

“Like I said… Theo isn’t friends with Vin or Greg. But he will socialize with them when they are in the same group. The potion’s going to be ready in a few days, right?” She continued when Draco nodded. “That’s Christmas. I can easily set up a card game or something like that to walk into and join. It will present the perfect opportunity to ask Theo questions without arousing suspicion while you two conveniently play the doting, admiring audience that is required.”

“Strategically, that’s actually… brilliant,” Ron added, reluctant to admit his admiration of her plan.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised, Weasley. This is why you have a token Slytherin on the team,” Daphne joked.

Draco chuckled before returning to business. “So, once Harry and Ron take the potion, they will meet you in the Entrance Hall so you can guide them to the Slytherin Common Room.”

“And that’s where the real fun begins,” Ron said sarcastically.

Chapter Text

Christmas morning was bitter-sweet without Hermione. Draco woke up unseemly early and just sat in front of the fireplace, looking up towards the girl’s dormitory, hoping to see her come bouncing down the stairs to open presents. Christmas was Hermione’s favorite holiday. She talked nonstop about how much she loved drinking hot chocolate in front of a decorated fir tree surrounded by the people she loved the most. That was how her family spent Christmas every year. It was completely different from the Yule Ball that he and his parents would attend, usually hosted by some old pureblood that Draco did not know the name of, nor cared to know.

Draco’s parents sent him a card and some sweets, informing him that all his other presents were waiting for him at the manor the next time he was home. What was most surprising was that Mrs. Weasley had knitted him a navy-blue sweater with the letter D on the front for his name. It felt nice to match Ron’s burnt orange and Harry’s ruby red sweaters. Almost like he was part of the family. Hermione’s gifts were left untouched.

The Gryffindor boys spent the last couple of days in chaotic preparation for tonight’s operation. Daphne had managed to show Harry where the laundry rooms were and stole some of Crabbe and Goyle’s clothes. All that was left to do was wait until the feast concluded. Later that night, Draco gave the potion one last stir when Harry and Ron ran into the bathroom.

“They’re completely knocked out!” Ron panted.

“And we got the hairs,” Harry added, holding up his piece of Goyle.

Draco handed them some collection tubes, “Put those in there and go change into their clothes.”

“Ew! Are we going to have to drink that?” Ron asked, disgusted by the lumpy grey liquid that was the final product of the potion.

Draco nodded in response. They decided that with Hermione out of commission, Draco would need to remain behind with the cauldron and clean up the evidence of their meddling while Harry and Ron completed the reconnaissance mission.

When the boys returned, Draco ladled out the potion before handing it to them, “Right, you two remember the plan?”

“Follow Daphne to the common room,” Ron repeated.

“Then listen to Nott,” Harry added.

“Good. Now, add the hairs, and then cheers, mates,” Draco instructed.

Harry and Ron clinked their glasses before plugging their noses and chugging the contents. Ron dropped his glass, clutching his mouth before running to a stall, “I think I’m gonna be sick!”

“Harry, what’s happening? Is the potion working?” Draco asked as he tried to help Harry, the boy barely supporting himself against a bathroom sink. Draco stepped back in shock when he saw his friend’s skin start to bubble and transform before his eyes. Gone was the skinny, dark-haired boy with glasses and a lightning bolt scar on his forehead. In his place was the broad, pimple face and unintelligent Slytherin with long gorilla arms and short bristly hair that hung low over his eyes. 

Harry chuckled, his voice completely different, “It worked! It actually worked!”

“Bloody hell!” Ron exclaimed, coming out of the stall. His voice also changed along with his appearance. Ron Weasley was now just as thick and round as Crabbe, complete with his pudding bowl-style haircut.

“Right, you guys need to go. Daphne should be waiting near the entrance to the dungeons. Remember, you only have an hour before you start to change,” Draco reminded the boys.

Harry and Ron took a little longer than expected to get down to the entrance hall, for they had to adjust to their new bodies. When they finally made it to the meeting point, Daphne was tapping her foot impatiently with her arms crossed, “It’s about time! I had to hide in a broom closet from your brother, Weasley.”

“Percy? He’s doing patrols in the dungeons?” Ron questioned.

“Yes. I think he’s trying to catch the heir in action. But it doesn’t matter. Let’s go before he reports all three of us.”

Daphne hurried the boys through a series of long, narrow corridors before coming to stand in front of a blank, stone wall. She touched the fifth stone up from the floor and spoke the password, “Pureblood.”

Retracting her hand, the boys watched in awe as the bricks magically moved aside to form a doorway directly into the Slytherin common room.

“Charming password,” Ron muttered sarcastically to Daphne.

She gave him a pointed look before crossing the threshold, “I didn’t pick it.”

The Slytherin common room was not what Harry and Ron expected. Instead of the underground, villainous liar they had imagined, it was actually sort of… cool. The room had rough stone walls and large glass windows that provided a view of the depts of the Black Lake. Green lanterns hung low from the ceiling on rusty chains and cast a mysterious glow around the room, even with the fire burning bright from the ornate fireplace. Harry tried not to fixate on the stalactites, afraid that they would fall on his head at any moment as they walked past elegant couches and chairs. Like the Gryffindor common room, the Slytherin version was also decorated for the festivities and had a large evergreen tree in one corner. Next to it was a table with Theo Nott, Blaise Zabini, and Zacharias Smith.

“Oy! Greengrass! About time! What took you so long?” Theo called out to them from across the room.

“Vin and Greg here forgot the password to the common room. They got caught by a Prefect, and I had to save them,” she coolly answered.

“Ah, pigging out in the Great Hall again, were you?” Zacharias mocked Harry-Goyle and Ron-Crabbe. Daphne gently kicked Harry in the leg, cueing them to laugh at Smith’s joke stupidly.

“Who cares? Sit down so we can deal you in,” Nott ordered, pointing at the empty chairs. Zabini was shuffling the deck, explaining the rules of the game to the newcomers. As he was passing out the cards, he turned to Daphne.

“Before you got here, we were just talking about the Weasleys.”

“Oh? What about?” She asked, taking a seat next to Theo. Harry sat next to her, and Ron took the spot in between Harry and Zacharias.

“According to the Daily Prophet, Weasley Sr. was only fined for the muggle car that the boy-wonder and his faithful sidekick hijacked,” Theo snickered, “Honestly, I don’t get how the Weasleys can tolerate Draco when Mr. Malfoy instigated the hearing.”

“What an embarrassment! You would never know they were pureblood by the way they behave,” Zacharias added snidely.

Ron- or rather Crabbe’s- face contorted in fury as he cracked his knuckles.

“What’s the matter with you?” Zacharias asked.

Harry elbowed Ron, “Eh… stomachache.”

The table dismissed the out-of-character moment as the round started. After a few rounds, Blaise brought up another topic of interest.

“Speaking of the Prophet, I’m surprised that they haven’t reported any of the attacks.”

“Dumbledore’s trying to hush it all up. If word got out, he’d be sacked, that’s for sure!” Zacharias cruelly chucked.

“My father says that Dumbledore is the worst thing that ever happened to this place!” Theo said, puffing his chest a little bit like he was competing with Zacharias.

“You’re wrong!” Harry suddenly cried out. Everyone stilled at the table before slowly turning to look at the Harry-Goyle. Daphne’s mouth was in a thin line as she tried to keep herself restrained from hitting Harry for his massive slip up. Seriously? What happened to the original plan of being quiet and listening?

After a few moments of awkward silence, Theo started laughing, “What? You think there is someone worse than Dumbledore?”

Blaise started laughing along with Theo when he said, “Please do enlighten us.”

Harry-Goyle gulped, “Harry Potter.”

The laughter stopped as the Slytherin boys looked between one another, astonished by the comment. Daphne and Ron were holding their breathes as they waited for someone to reply. 

“Why, Goyle. I believe that is the most intelligent thing you have ever said,” Zacharias smirked.

“Good one, Vin. You’re right,” Theo commented before he leered across the table, “Saint Harry Potter. With his band of blood traitors and mudbloods.”

“Speaking of blood traitors, can you believe that people actually believe Malfoy is the Heir of Slytherin?” Zacharias posed the question to the group.

“I heard that the other day in Herbology,” Daphne said disinterestedly.

Theo scoffed, “Draco? The heir? That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard.”

This was it! Theo was going to reveal who the heir was! Harry and Ron were on the edge of their seats in anticipation when Daphne poked Theo playfully, “Oh, come on, Nott. You must have some idea who the heir could be then?”

“I don’t, Daph. And my father won’t tell me anything!” Theo whined.

“Really?” Daphne leaned a little closer to Theo, “But he knows something? Surely, he wants you to help the heir.”

“The exact opposite actually,” Theo said bitterly, “In his last letter, he told me the Chamber was opened in his fifth year, which was about fifty years ago… and that a mudblood died. So, I bet it’s a matter of time before another is killed. Personally, I was upset to learn Granger wasn’t.”

“The swot would have been the perfect target,” Zacharias agreed and started acting out an impression of Hermione in class. Harry and Ron were biting their lips, thanking Merlin and Morgana that Draco wasn’t here. It took all their self-restraint not to defend their friend.

“Surely the person who opened it was expelled?” Daphne casually inquired.

“Oh yeah, for sure. Probably still in Azkaban,” Theo concluded, “The only advice my father gave me was to keep my head down and to allow the heir to do Salazar’s bidding. None of us need to be mixed up in this mess. We just need to be patient until whatever the heir has planned is brought to fruition.”

While the table was nodding in agreement, Ron started to groan, feeling the effects of the Polyjuice potion wearing off.

“Vin! I think you need to go and see Madam Pomfrey right away for your… stomachache. Goyle should go with you to make sure you don’t get caught by a prefect again,” Daphne covered for the boys. 

“Ha! So, the bottomless pit does have its limits,” Zacharias meanly joked.

“Go get sick on some mudbloods while you’re at it,” Theo called out to them as Harry and Ron dashed out of the Slytherin common room and back to the girl’s bathroom.

___________________

“Blimey! I knew Nott, Sr. was old, but I didn’t realize he was that old,” Draco exclaimed. He had spent the hour waiting for Harry and Ron to return by cleaning and bottling the rest of the Polyjuice potion for possible use in the future.

“Yeah… at least it wasn’t a total bust. Even though Theo didn’t have the information we were looking for, we now have a timeframe,” Harry said with a hopeful look.

“I was so sure it was going to be Nott!” Ron huffed.

“Told ya,” Draco said under his breath.

_________________

The boys spent the remainder of the break and well into February digging through every family genealogy text that the Hogwarts library had to offer, which was a lot. They spent hours scrolling through birth records and marriages and cross-referenced them to student records and House of Slytherin members. The task proved very strenuous, especially since they had to start back at the very first recording of the Gaunt line. Ron grew bored and ultimately was not very helpful, causing Draco to suggest the redhead try searching in the creature books to figure out what was attacking the muggleborn students. They were sitting down to dinner one day, quietly discussing their lack of progress when Draco moaned.

“That can’t be it!  According to the record, the Gaunt family line died with Merope Gaunt.”

“She didn’t have a child? A brother or sister? Half or step-sibling?” Harry asked.

“Not that I can tell,” Draco groaned in frustration, “Though it is interesting that your line is distantly related through the Peverell’s. It possibly explains why you have your… er… special ability.”

Harry nodded. While researching the Gaunt’s, he had discovered the Potter family tree, giving Harry an insight into personal history lost to the young Gryffindor. With Draco’s help, he was able to copy some of the records and even get a picture of his mother and father while they were schoolmates. The blond even offered to devote more time with Harry and his genealogy study once they saved the school from the looming threat and possible closure. Harry turned to Ron, setting the thought aside for now, “Did you figure out what the monster could be?”

“No luck on the creature front either, mates,” Ron added to the sour mood.

“How about we call it a night and head back?” Harry suggested before pointing at Draco, “We need to get rest for practice tomorrow morning.”

“I know, I know. I’m glad Quidditch hasn’t been canceled yet,” Draco stated. Since classes resumed after the new year, three more attacks had happened in the short span of four weeks. Nearly-headless Nick and Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Hufflepuff in their year, were both found petrified in a corridor on the third floor. Penelope Clearwater, a Ravenclaw in Percy’s year, was discovered near the library like Hermione. When word got out about Penelope, students started to steer clear of the library or would only visit in large groups in hopes that would prevent them from being targeted.

While walking back to the Gryffindor tower, they saw that water had overflown from the girl’s lavatory in the second-floor corridor, partially submerging the area. 

“What happened?” Ron exclaimed.

“Mrytle probably flooded the bathroom,” Harry hypothesized, “Come on. Let’s go see why.”

Reluctantly, Draco and Ron followed Harry into the restroom. As they waded through the water, they found all the sinks had been clogged and turned to the highest pressure. The boys continued to slosh further inside and found Myrtle crying towards the ceiling.

“Come to throw something else at me?” she wailed.

“Why would I throw something at you?” Harry asked, confused.

“Don’t ask me! Here I am, minding my own business, and somebody thinks it’s funny to throw a book at me,” the ghost sniffled.

“But it can’t hurt if someone throws something at you. I mean, it’ll just go right through you,” Ron corrected her, ignoring Harry and Draco’s non-verbal warnings.

Myrtle furiously glided over to float in front of Ron, “SURE! Let’s all throw books at Myrtle because she can’t feel it! Ten points if you get it through her stomach!” Myrtle punched her fist through Ron’s abdomen, “Fifty points if it goes through her HEAD!” 

Ron whimpered when Myrtle put her fist through his skull. Draco was trying to hide his smirk when Harry asked gently, “But who threw it at you, anyway?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see them. One minute I was thinking about death. And the next, it fell right through the top of my head!” she sobbed as she glided through the wall.

Harry picked up the strange book. It was a black leather diary that was slightly water-stained but was blank inside. The only indication that it belonged to someone was the engraving on the back.

Tom Marvolo Riddle

“Does the name mean anything to either of you?” Harry asked.

“I don’t remember coming across a Tom Riddle in any of the bloodlines, but we can check again tomorrow after quidditch practice,” Draco reminded Harry.

“Hang on… I know a T. M. Riddle that got an award for special services to the school,” Ron chimed in, “I remember because Filch made me polish his trophy a hundred times!”

“Really? A hundred times?” Draco raised an eyebrow at Ron.

“Well… it felt like it,” The redhead grunted.

With the mystery still at large, the boys decided to head back to the dormitory before anyone caught them snooping around. When they got back to the common room, Harry was still flipping through the journal when Ron yawned, “I’m going to bed, Harry. Are you still looking at that book?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you guys in the morning,” he responded, still fixated on the diary.

Draco nodded, following Ron up the stairs to the dormitory. He was barely listening to Ron’s quiet rant about Harry and the diary when his head finally hit the pillow, succumbing to sleep.

_______________________

“It was Hagrid! Hagrid opened the Chamber of Secrets 50 years ago,” Harry whispered to Ron and Draco the next day in the courtyard. Harry stayed up most of the night trying to figure out how the diary worked. He activated the enchanted book by writing in its pages, allowing the object to show him what Riddle recorded when the event happened. Evidently, Hagrid had been responsible for the Chamber’s opening and harbored the monster that terrorized the school on June 13, 1943, consequently taking the life of a muggleborn girl. Draco wasn’t surprised to learn that Hagrid hid wild animals during his time as a student, given that just last school year, the half-giant tried to raise a baby dragon in his hut. Seriously, had the groundskeeper always carry an affinity for dangerous magical creatures? Draco, however, was not entirely convinced that Hagrid was responsible for everything.

“I’m finding that hard to believe, Harry,” Draco admitted.

“We don’t even know this Tom Riddle. He sounds like Percy to me. A dirty, rotten snitch,” Ron agreed with Draco.

“The monster had killed someone, Ron! What would any of us have done?” Harry questioned the boys.

“Look… besides the fact that Hagrid is our friend, if he really was the heir and responsible for that girl’s death, why would Dumbledore hire him as the caretaker? Why is the Chamber just now being reopened when Hagrid has worked for Hogwarts for years!”

Harry contemplated what Draco was saying for a moment before he spoke, “Alright, then let’s go and ask him.”

“Oh, that will be a cheerful visit,” Ron said sarcastically, “Probably go something like this, ‘Hello, Hagrid. Tell us, have you been setting anything mad and hairy loose in the castle lately?’”

“Mad and hairy?! Yeh wouldn’t be talkin’ about me, would yeah?” Hagrid asked, suddenly appearing out of nowhere.

“No,” they all quickly answered at the same time.

There was an awkward silence before Harry pointed to the can in Hagrid’s hand, “What’s that you got there?”

“Oh, it’s um… flesh eaten’ slug repellant for the mandrakes. Now, accordin’ ter Professor Sprout, they’ve still got a bit of growin’ up ter do. But once their acene’s cleared up, we’ll be able ter chop them up and stew em’ and then we’ll get those people down at the hospital unpetrified,” he paused to let the good news settle in before giving them a stern look, “In the meantime, though, yeh three… have best be lookin’ after yerselves. All right?”

They were watching Hagrid walk away when Neville came running up to them, panting from being out of breath, “Harry, I don’t know who did it, but you’d better come quick!”

The boys quickly followed Longbottom to the dormitory to find Harry’s bed, trunk, and belongings tossed about as if someone had gone through them. The culprit had ripped the bedding clean off the mattress and tore apart his pillows, allowing feathers to fly free around the room. His overturned trunk left books and their ripped pages scattered across the floor. The assailant even pulled out all his dresser drawers and smashed the mirror on his vanity. Hedwig was chirping in distress at Harry as the dark-haired wizard looked through his personal belongings.

“It had to be a Gryffindor, mate. No one else knows the password,” Ron concluded.

“Unless it wasn’t a student,” Draco added, the thought making him uncomfortable and sending shivers down his spine.

“Whoever it was, they must have been looking for something,” Ron theorized.

“And they found it,” Harry gritted, “Tom Riddle’s diary. It’s gone.”

_______________________

With the loss of the diary and a reluctance to visit Hagrid, Draco, Ron, and Harry were out of leads. The bloodline research led them well past the Easter holiday without any success. Dumbledore called off all future Quidditch matches when Maxine O’Flaherty, one of the Hufflepuff Beaters, turned up petrified, making her the fifth attack for the year. The curfew changed from eight o’clock to six every night, and all students required an escort to the bathroom or lessons. The day after Dumbledore implemented the new policies, Harry huddled Ron and Draco and insisted they visit Hagrid.

Later that night, the three snuck out under the invisibility cloak and knocked on Hagrid’s front door. The moment the door flung open, Hagrid raised a crossbow and aimed it directly in their face.

Harry flung the cloak off them, “What’s that for?”

Hagrid sighed in relief, lowering the weapon, “Nothin’. I’ve bin expectin’… doesn’ matter. Come in.”

Draco, Ron, and Harry cautiously walked inside, nervous about confronting the half-giant. Draco immediately noticed that Hagrid had an anxious expression that replaced the half giant’s usual jovial demeanor. Their friend was trying to distract himself, pouring tea and serving his fruit biscuits. Neither of the boys knew where to begin with the interrogation until Ron mouthed to Harry just to ask him. Clearing his throat, Harry spoke up.

“Hagrid, we need to ask you something. Do you know who opened the Chamber of Secrets?”

Hagrid stopped what he was doing, shocked by the question. After fumbling with the tea kettle for a moment, he shakily replied, “What yeh need ter understand about that is….”

The loud pounding at the door cut off his explanation. Hagrid pointed to the corner and ordered the boys to put the cloak on. As he had done with them, Hagrid raised his crossbow and opened the door to see who came calling.

“Professor Dumbledore, sir,” Hagrid greeted in surprise.

“Good evening, Hagrid. I wonder if we could….”

“Please, come in,” Hagrid let Dumbledore and the other wizard pass over the threshold. He was a short man with slightly rumpled greying hair. However, the black and purple coloring of his robe gave the unknown man a sense of dignity and a look of importance.

“That’s dad’s boss,” Ron breathed to Harry.

Draco nodded, recognizing the man from a few dinner parties and social gatherings he had to attend with his family, “It’s Cornelius Fudge. The Minister of Magic.”

“Bad business, Hagrid, nasty business, I’m afraid. I had to come. Five attacks total, four of which on muggleborn students... Things have gone on far enough. The Ministry’s got to act,” Fudge said sternly.

“But I never! You know I never, professor,” Hagrid pleaded.

“I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence,” Dumbledore asserted, frowning at Fudge.

“Albus…” Fudge clucked his tongue, “Hagrid’s record is against him. I’ve got to take him.”

“Take me? Take me where? Not Azkaban prison!” Hagrid cried out.

“I’m afraid we have no choice, Hagrid,” Fudge replied, unapologetic.

Just then, Hagrid’s door opened to reveal Lucius Malfoy stepping into the hut, “Already here, Fudge? Good.”

Draco’s jaw dropped when he saw his father move about the hut. The man had his hair pulled back in a simple but elegant style and was dressed sinisterly in all-black robes. His face was cold and detached as he tapped his cane on the wood, clutching a scroll of parchment in his other hand.

“What are yeh doin’ here? Get outta my house!” Hagrid yelled.

“Believe me… I take absolutely no pleasure being inside your… you call this a house?” Lucius sneered at the surroundings before fixing his sights on Dumbledore, “I simply called up the school and was told the Headmaster was here.”

“And what exactly is it that you want with me?” Dumbledore asked coolly.

“The other governors and I have decided it’s time for you to step aside,” Lucius replied, handing Dumbledore the scroll, “This is an order of suspension.”

As Lucius presented the scroll, Fudge tried to stop the handoff, “Lucius, a suspension? No, no… the last thing we need is for Dumbledore to be…”

“Appointment or suspension of the Headmaster is within the sole authority of the Board of Governors,” Lucius resolutely reminded Fudge before turning back to Dumbledore, “You’ll find all 12 signatures on it. I’m afraid we feel you have… simply lost your touch. Well, what with all these attacks, there’ll be no muggleborns left at Hogwarts. I can only imagine what a terrible loss that would be to the school.”

Hagrid wasn’t buying Lucius’s insincere tone when he barked, “Yeh can’t take away, Professor Dumbledore! If yeh do that, the muggleborns won’t stand a chance! Yeh, mark my words! There’ll be killins’ next!”

“You think so?” Lucius drawled.

“Calm yourself, Hagrid. If the governors desire my removal, I will, of course, step aside,” Dumbledore replied calmly, “However, you will find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.”

Harry, Ron, and Draco raised their eyebrows when they noticed Dumbledore directed the last sentence in their general direction under the cloak.

Lucius looked around confused before speaking, “An admirable sentiment. Shall we?”

Dumbledore followed Lucius out of the hut. Fudge motioned for Hagrid to follow the men.

“Right,” Hagrid said, “If anybody were lookin’ for some stuff, all they need ter do would be ter follow the spiders. Yep. That would lead them right. Oh! Someone will need ter feed Fang while I’m gone.”

The boys didn’t throw the cloak off until well after the adults left the hut. Draco inhaled deeply, trying to steady his breaths and calm himself when Ron exclaimed, “How do you live with him?”

“You don’t. You survive,” Draco intoned seriously.

The statement only added to the heaviness of the atmosphere. Though he cared and was loyal to his friends, Ron was also a bit insecure and envious of Draco. In the redhead’s eyes, the wizard had everything Ron ever wanted. Money, recognition, and prestige. Ron knew from his father that Mr. Malfoy was a cold and unkind character who was a Death Eater and lied to avoid prosecution. When he first met Draco, he assumed that the sins of the father would carry over. But then, Draco proved every judgment Ron had about him wrong. The boy instantly was nice and friendly with a muggleborn witch and didn’t taunt anyone for their status. He stood up for Ron when Theo and Blaise tried to shame him for his family, and then, of course, the bloke had to go and get sorted into Gryffindor with him!

Even though he was sometimes arrogant and had quite a temper, Draco was kind and funny. He was brilliant and always helped Ron with his homework when Hermione got frustrated and refused. Draco matched Ron’s wit, and the two shared a similar sense of humor. They had more in common than Ron initially thought, and of course, if it weren’t for Draco, Ron would have been left in the transfigured chess chamber last year.

It never made sense to Ron why Draco attached to Hermione, Harry, and himself. He knew Draco was rich and didn’t want for anything, so why did he desire a life that was anything but what he had? Seeing how Draco’s father belittled his family and then today practically taunted Dumbledore like a schoolyard bully, it was finally making sense. Draco lived in an abusive household where he couldn’t be himself when all he wanted was genuine, honest relationships. Ron felt sympathy for his friend and tried to cheer him up the best way he knew how.

“Well, mate. I’m glad you’re our friend and not our enemy. Can you imagine a world where you’re like… Harry’s arch-nemesis and always trying to foil the plot?” 

Draco chucked, the joke bringing a smile to his face, “Thanks, Ron. To be fair, I think I would play an amazing villain.”

“Look,” Harry cut in, pointing at the row of spiders crawling in a line out the window just like in Myrtle’s bathroom. Grabbing a lantern, Harry waved at the boys to follow him.

Draco whistled to Fang. The hound immediately jumped up from his spot in Hagrid’s armchair and padded behind the boys to the edge of the forbidden forest. Harry had his nose to the ground, focused on the path the spiders were taking.

“Harry! What are you doing?” Draco called out to stop him.

“You heard what Hagrid said. We need to follow the spiders,” Harry replied.

“But they’re heading into the dark forest!” Ron croaked, his lower lip trembling in fear.

Harry just shrugged his shoulders and stepped past the tree line.

Sighing, Draco clapped Ron on the shoulder, “Come on, Weasley. Muster that Gryffindor courage. We don’t want Harry to get too far by himself.” 

As they were trotting to catch up to Harry, Draco chuckled under his breath when he heard Ron mutter, “Spiders. Why Spiders? Why couldn’t it be ‘follow the butterflies?’”

Chapter Text

Draco hoped that he would never visit the Forbidden Forest after his detention last year. The dark, misty woods hadn't changed as the boys' feet crunched on dried leaves and twigs. They were careful not to step on the spiders and avoid tripping over the thick roots of the overgrown trees. Though the weather had been warming up, the spring night was cold enough that Draco could see his breath in the chilled May air. He was trying to ignore Ron's whimpers and Fang's growls as they got louder the deeper they journeyed into the forest. He didn't dare look off the path to investigate what was moving in the shadows and pretended not to notice how the spiders seemed to get bigger the longer they walked. Harry was steadfast on their quest, his focus never leaving the spiders' trail as it ultimately led them through a tunnel and into a patched dirt grove.

 A large web awaited them at the end of the path. Draco shivered when a loud rustling noise came from underneath it and gasped when the ground shook as a giant Acromantula made its presence known. The terrifying, hairy creature blinked its eight eyes at the boys before croaking, "Hagrid? Is that you?"

"We're friends of Hagrid's," Harry hurried out, trying to keep the panic out of his voice. 

Ron grabbed Draco's arm, whimpering with tears streaming from his eyes. Draco was holding his breath, looking between Harry and the Acromantula. Of all the crazy things the boy-who-lived had roped them into doing so far, this one definitively was going to get them killed. Draco couldn't stop mentally reciting facts from his creature book when Harry asked, "You're Aragog. Aren't you?"

"Yes… Hagrid has never sent men into our hollow before," the Acromantula, Aragog, responded.

"He's in trouble. Up at the school, there have been attacks like the last time. They think it's Hagrid. That, he opened the Chamber of Secrets, and you are the monster responsible," Harry explained in rushed, broken sentences.

Aragog clipped his pinchers in offense, "That's a lie! Hagrid never opened the Chamber of Secrets! Hagrid is a good man!" 

"Then… you're not the monster?" Harry questioned.

"No. The monster was born in the castle. I came to Hagrid from a distant land in the pocket of a traveler. Hagrid was only a boy, but he cared for me…."

"Harry, can we leave now," Ron cried softly, tugging on his friend's shirt sleeve. Draco looked up to see where Ron was pointing and almost cursed aloud when he saw the hordes of spiders circling the boys.

Harry shushed him before continuing his interrogation, "But, if you aren't the monster, then what did kill that girl 50 years ago?"

Aragog growled, "We do not speak of it! It is an ancient creature we spiders fear above all others."

"Have you seen it?" Harry asked, summoning his remaining courage.

"The only part of the castle I saw was the cupboard Hagrid kept me in. The girl was discovered in a bathroom. When I was accused and blamed for her death, Hagrid protected me. I have lived here in the forest ever since, where Hagrid still visits me. He even found me a wife, Mosag, and you see how our family has grown, all through Hagrid's goodness…."

"Harry…" Draco breathed out, barely audible above Ron's whimpering.

"What?" Harry snapped, annoyed for being interrupted. The young Gryffindor quickly changed his tune as he looked up to see why his friends had been trying to get his attention. Gulping, Harry addressed Aragog, "Well, Thank you. We'll just be going now…."

"Go!?" Aragog laughed cruelly, "I think not. My sons and daughters do not harm Hagrid on my command, but alas, I cannot deny them the prospect of fresh meat when it wanders so freely into our midst. Goodbye… friends of Hagrid."

The boys huddled up, back-to-back, drawing their wands at the swarm of Acromantulas that had been converging upon the grove. It was clear to Draco that they were outnumbered and had no escape route.

"Can we panic now?" Ron sobbed.

"Know any spells?" Draco yelled.

"Just one! But it's not powerful enough for all of them," Harry shouted back.

"Where's Hermione when you need her?" Ron cried.

Just as the Acromantulas were closing in, the boys gasped when a sudden bright light illuminated the grove. Honking its horn and driving over the hill was the Ford Anglia that Ron crashed into the Whomping Willow. The car magically opened its doors to let the boys dive inside to safety. Ron took the driver's seat while Draco ushered Fang and himself in the back.

Harry cast the charm he knew to fend off a spider before jumping into the passenger seat just before the car reversed through the forest. Draco had never been in a muggle vehicle before, but he swiftly concluded that this was a truly terrifying form of transportation. He was jerked and thrown all over the cabin as the car avoided hitting trees and roots. Suddenly, the vehicle jumped into the air sending the boys up and over the tree line. Just as quickly as they entered the atmosphere, the boys went plunging towards the ground, roughly landing a few paces away from Hagrid's hut. Breathing heavily, the boys sat stunned for a minute until they were violently ejected from the cabin. Laying on the ground, Draco watched as the Ford Anglia revved its engine for a bit and then drove off into the darkness of the wood.

Fang started barking at the car when Ron got up, "Follow the spiders! Follow the spiders! If Hagrid ever gets out of Azkaban, I'll kill him!" 

Harry helped Draco up before running into Hagrid's hut to collect the invisibility cloak.

"I mean… what was the point of sending us in there! What have we found out?" Ron asked, still hysterical after the encounter. 

"We know one thing. Hagrid never opened the Chamber of Secrets. He was innocent," Harry replied.

"We know more than that. We know the monster was born in the castle, and it doesn't get along with Acromantulas," Draco clarified as Harry threw the cloak over them.

"We can debate this tomorrow. Come on. Let's go," Harry said, exhausted.

_____________________________

"I still can't believe they are making us take exams after all this," Seamus loudly complained, distracting Draco from his essay. It had been a couple of days since the Forbidden Forest rendezvous, and the boys were still trying to process the information. Since the attacks, the library had designated study times, making it harder to access and continue their research. It was a depressing Friday afternoon, leaving Draco to sit by himself because his usual study partner and best friend was still lying petrified in the hospital wing. He tried not to feel defeated or bitter by the thought, intending to focus on his schoolwork when the chair opposite him scrapped along the floor. He looked up to see Luna taking a seat.

"Hello, Draco. How are you doing?" she asked politely.

Draco smiled at her, "Hey, cousin. I'm sorry we haven't talked much. This year has turned out to be quite… busy. How are you holding up?"

"Oh, no need to worry about me. I'm as well as can be expected," Luna said quizzically. Draco raised an eyebrow, trying to get her to elaborate when she waved him off. "It's nothing you need to worry about. I haven't gotten the chance to give my condolences. Hermione is your best friend. It must be very difficult for you to continue without her support."

"Yeah, I miss her a lot," Draco sighed. He quickly brushed off the melancholy mood before asking, "Have you made any friends, Luna?"

"Now that you mention it, I wanted to talk to you about something. You see… Ginny Weasley and I have been friends for quite some time, but then after the Chamber of Secrets opened, she started to become distant."

That caught Draco's attention. "Distant how?"

"It started small. She would cancel study sessions with me or stop talking to me for long periods of time. Then one day, I noticed her whole aura changed. She went from having a passionate and energetic red to a thin black line. Draco, I think someone or something is hurting her. It's quite literally draining her life force."

"Why haven't you told a professor about this?" Draco asked.

Luna paused for a moment thinking how to answer, "I don't think they will believe me."

Draco reached across the table and gently squeezed her hand, "I believe you."

"I know," Luna gave him a small smile, "I never did tell you, did I? You and Hermione share the same aura. Both of you have pale yellow ones that symbolize your optimism and intelligence. It's quite beautiful to look at when you two are in the same room."

Draco slowly retracted his hand, "That's very kind of you to say. You'll have to tell her when she wakes up."

"It won't be long now. Professor Sprout said the Mandrakes are a day or so away from harvest. Soon, everyone who was petrified will be awake again," Luna informed him in her usual whimsical tone.

"Mate! You have got to see this!" Ron came barreling over, sitting in the chair next to Draco with a heavy book, "Oh, hello Looney… I mean Luna."

"I'm sorry, but what did you just call my cousin?" Draco spat at the redhead causing Ron's cheeks to burn as bright as a tomato.

"Hello, Ron Weasley. It is a pleasure to see you again. I've heard all about your epic chess matches from some of the older students in my house and do hope that one day you will allow me to play you," Luna interjected politely, saving him from Draco's ire.

"Oh… uh… thanks, Luna! That's swell. If you don't mind, I need to talk to Draco for a second," Ron said.

"Of course. You, Draco, and Harry Potter need to stop the Heir of Slytherin from hurting anyone else. Don't let me keep you," she commented before walking away.

"You told her?" Ron gasped.

"No! I didn't!" Draco defended, "Luna just has a way of knowing things that others don't. She actually came to talk to me because she's worried about your sister and thinks someone is trying to hurt her."

"Who?"

"She doesn't know. Just said that Ginny's aura was fading and that she couldn't tell a teacher," Draco summarized.

Ron scoffed, "That's because everyone thinks Luna is crazy."

"Well, she's not! She's my cousin, and I expect you and Harry to be nice to her," Draco warned in a low tone.

"Hey, mate. I didn't know you two were related. I'm just repeating what I heard from Seamus," Ron raised his hands in defeat.

"Which is?" Draco prompted.

"That… Luna has some bizarre ideas and says some weird things. Also, some of the older Ravenclaws like to take her shoes and hide them. They think it's funny she doesn't try to find them and will go to class barefoot," Ron admitted. Draco cracked his knuckles and gritted his teeth at hearing that students were bullying Luna throughout most of her first year. Noticing his reaction, Ron patted Draco on the shoulder, "Look, mate. I get it. If it were Ginny in her place, I would be taking names as well. I'll help you hex the tossers someday. But right now, we need to focus on this."

Draco looked down at a page Ron had opened. It was an ancient creature textbook that depicted a giant serpent. He read the passage to himself.

Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters roaming our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, also known as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach a gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is b  orn from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare…

"Ron, you did it! We need to find Harry now!" Draco jumped up from his seat, gathering his books, and ran to the Gryffindor common room. He barged through the door of the dormitory to find Harry lying on his bed. The dark-haired wizard was startled when he saw Draco and Ron running towards him.

"Ron figured it out," Draco blurted excitedly.

"Look," Ron said, handing the book to Harry, "The monster in the Chamber is a Basilisk! It's a giant snake! That's why only you can hear it when it's moving!"

"Ron! This is brilliant! How did you find this?" Harry asked.

"Well, after I calmed down from the… incident… I started researching Acromantula's since Aragog said that the creature was their mortal enemy, or whatever, and there was a cross-reference to this book!" Ron exclaimed.

"Hermione would be so proud of you," Draco laughed.

"Tell me about it. I don't think I've ever done this much research for any of my classes," Ron chuckled, "But one thing I don't get, besides the fact that no one has seen a giant snake slithering around Hogwarts, is that the Basilisk can kill people just by looking at them. How come no one has died?"

"And how has it been getting from place to place?" Harry asked.

"Well, you said you heard the voice in the walls. What's behind walls? Stone, ventilation ducts, piping…." Draco listed off.

"Pipes! You mean it could be using the plumbing?" Ron gasped.

"Don't sound so surprised, Ron," Draco cajoled, "Even you can't miss a giant snake roaming about. It's got to use something to sneak around and petrify everyone."

Ron rolled his eyes, "Right, it still doesn't explain why no one is dead. Not that I'm complaining."

Harry was gazing at his repaired bedside mirror, lost in thought, when he suddenly said, "Because no one did look it in the eye. Not directly, at least."

"What do you mean?" Ron asked.

"Think about it. Colin saw it through his camera. Hermione through the mirror," Harry ticked off the attacks on his finger.

"Nick is a ghost, so he can't die twice, and then Justin saw the Basilisk through Nick," Draco added, Harry nodding.

"What about Penelope and Maxine? Mrs. Norris?" Ron questioned.

"Penelope was found near the Ravenclaw tower next to a window. She must have seen it through the glass. And then Maxine…." Harry trailed off, trying to remember where the older Hufflepuff was found.

"They found Maxine in the Prefect's bathroom next to the stained-glass window. She was getting ready to take a bath. She must have seen it through the bathwater in the tub," Draco recalled.

"Water… There was water on the floor that night we found Mrs. Norris," Harry finished.

"Don't you think it's kind of odd that all the attacks happened near or in a bathroom?" Draco asked the boys.

"Well, if it were using the pipes, a bathroom would be a sure way to get in, attack, and then get out," Ron theorized.

"Of course!" Harry sprang from the bed.

"Where are you going?" Draco called after him.

"Remember what Aragog said about that girl 50 years ago? He said she died in a bathroom. What if she never left?" Harry was practically jumping in anticipation like he had figured out the entire mystery.

"Myrtle's bathroom," Ron whispered, his eyes wide as he came to the same conclusion.

"We need to go," Harry ordered when a sudden announcement came over the intercom that everyone needed to return to the dormitory while teachers were to meet in the second-floor corridor.

Harry grabbed the invisibility cloak, and the three quickly headed towards the second floor, being mindful to avoid frantic students rushing back to their common rooms. The boys were leering around the corner to find themselves at the same spot where the first message appeared. More blood was dripping on the wall as the teachers huddled around the scene.

"As you can see, the Heir of Slytherin has left another message. Our worst fear has been realized. The monster has taken a student into the Chamber itself," McGonagall paused, "I'm afraid this is the end of Hogwarts. We need to prepare the students and send them home immediately."

McGonagall's morbid speech rang in Draco's ears. He was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from gasping when Lockhart flew past them, unaware.

"So sorry, dozed off. What have I missed?"

"A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Your moment has come at last," Snape said snidely. He had a hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

Lockhart blanched, "My moment?"

"Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?" Snape asked, each word making Lockhart's face drop and sweat drip from his brow. 

"That's settled. We'll leave you to deal with the monster, Gilderoy," McGonagall chimed in, "Your skills, after all, are legend."

"Very well," Lockhart's mouth formed a forced smile, lacking its usual charm and luster, "I'll just be in my office getting… getting ready."

As the staff was dispersing to inform the students of the turn of events, Madam Pomfrey touched McGonagall's arm, "Who has the monster taken, Minerva?"

"Ginny Weasley," the witch announced with a grieved expression on her face.

Ron slapped a hand over his mouth to keep from crying. When all the teachers had cleared the corridor, Harry flung off the cloak off of the boys. Draco could not tear his eyes away from the message in blood that reflected large and clear through the torches' light. 

Harry threw off the invisibility cloak, turning to face Draco and Ron.

"It took Ginny!" Ron whimpered.

"I know. Ron, we need to go tell Lockhart," Harry said, walking back towards the staircase.

"Lockhart is useless, Harry!" Draco called out, following his friend.

"Maybe so, but he's going to try and get into the Chamber. At least we can tell him what we know," Harry replied, sprinting towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. The boys wasted no time and barged through the office door to find Lockhart frantically packing all his belongings.

"Are you going somewhere?" Draco snapped, not bothering to hide the disgust he felt for the man.

"Well, yes. Urgent call. Unavoidable… Got to go,” Lockhart stammered out.

"What about my sister?!" Ron wailed.

"Well, um… as to that, most unfortunate. No one regrets more than I…" the Professor responded, refusing to meet their eyes as he continued to pack.

"You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. You can't go now!" Ron yelled at the man.

Lockhart didn't even look ashamed, "Well, I must say when I took the job, there was nothing in the job description…."

"You're running away?" Harry cut him off, "After all that stuff you did in your books?"

"Books can be misleading," Lockhart defended, the pitch of his voice rising.

"You wrote them!" Harry retorted.

"My dear boy! Don't you use your common sense? My books wouldn't have sold half as well if people didn't think I'd done all those things," Lockhart said, exasperated.

"I knew it! You are a fraud!" Draco pointed in Lockhart's face, laughing at the man.

"You've just been taking credit for what other wizards have done," Harry snapped.

"Is there anything you can do?" Ron asked. 

As soon as the question left the redhead's mouth, Draco snorted, "Not likely."

"Yes," Lockhart snipped at the boys, "Now that you mention it. I'm rather gifted with Memory Charms. Otherwise, all those wizards would have gone blabbing, and I'd never have sold another book. In fact, I'm going to have to do the same to you."

Half a second before Lockhart raised his wand on the boys, Draco, Ron, and Harry all pointed their wands at him.

"Don't even think about it," Harry gritted out, "Drop your wand."

Bristling about being outnumbered, Lockhart followed the command reluctantly. 

Smiling manically, Draco took a step towards Lockhart, "If you two don't mind, I have a special spell in mind for our Professor."

Harry and Ron backed up just a smidge to give Draco some space to hex Lockhart. Draco waved his wand toward Lockhart's desk, "Go sit in your office chair."

Lockhart did as instructed. He slowly sat down without taking his eyes off Draco. The blond wizard let out a slight chuckled before his face dropped, eyes piercing on Lockhart.

"You know my father, Lucius Malfoy?" Lockhart nodded, prompting Draco to continue, "Well, there are some… unsavory rumors about him. Maybe you heard one or two, such as how he knows some extremely dark curses. Ones that he might or might not have taught me. I think doing one or two on you would be the least you deserve."

The Professor's eyes widened as Draco raised his wand higher, "Brachiabindo!"

Long, thick ropes coiled from the end of Draco's wand, magically wrapping around Lockhart and securing him to the chair. He was struggling against his restraints when Draco fired another spell, "Calvario!"

Ron couldn't help but laugh as all of Lockhart's hair instantly fell off his scalp. The man was completely bald. Draco flicked his wand, turning the chair so Lockhart could look in the mirror. He burst into a full-blown tantrum at the sight of his wavy golden locks shedding from his head.

"Oh, do stop your whining," Draco muttered before uttering one last spell, "Langlock!"

The jinx stuck Lockhart's tongue to the roof of his mouth, silencing the man's wails. Draco leaned forward with a menacing look on his face, "There are four people in the hospital wing, one of them my best friend. And now my best mate's sister is dying in the Chamber of Secrets. You don't get to run away from the consequences of your actions anymore, you sniveling, conceited chuffer. It may not be a memory charm, but these ropes have a particular counter curse that I'm fairly confident you don't know the spell. But look on the bright side, even if you don't have your hair anymore, I'm sure you will win Azkaban's most charming smile when the Prophet publishes your arrest portrait."

Lockhart was practically quaking in his bindings as Draco put away his 10-inch Hawthorn. He picked up Lockhart's discarded wand before turning to Ron and Harry, both staring at him wide-eyed and mouths open.

"What?" Draco asked them.

"You know, Hermione is scary, but you? Draco, you are terrifying," Ron said.

"That was brilliant! But Lockhart's going to have to wait until we get into the Chamber and save Ginny," Harry reminded the boys.

"Right. Girl's bathroom, here we come," Ron announced, following his friends out the door.

"Just out of curiosity, did your father really teach you those curses? I remember Hagrid steering me away from the book with the hair loss curse my first time in Diagon Ally," Harry asked.

"To be honest, I didn't know they were going to work until I cast them. And no, my father did not teach me. The manor has an extensive private library, and I was very bored," Draco revealed.

"Merlin! No wonder you and Hermione get along so well," Ron muttered.

They cautiously entered the lavatory to find Myrtle floating about, moaning per usual. She stopped and smiled when she saw Harry.

"Myrtle, we need to ask you… how you died," Harry said, approaching her cautiously. 

The ghost's face fell. Myrtle's eyes glossed over a bit as she recalled the last day she was alive, "It was dreadful. Just dreadful! It happened right here in this particular cubical. I'd hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in."

"Who was it, Myrtle?" Harry inquired gently.

"I don't know. I was distraught!" she hiccupped before continuing her story, "But they said something funny, a kind of made-up language. When I realized it was a boy, I unlocked the door to tell him to GO AWAY! And then… I… died!"

"Just like that? How?" Draco asked.

"I only remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes… over there… by that sink," she pointed at one of the disused, rusty faucets before floating away, moaning about her misery.

Harry stepped up to the sink, inspecting it. He tried to turn the faucet, but no water came out. As he was running his fingers along the cool metal, he felt the indent of a snake on the left side of the nob. "This is it! The Chamber of Secrets."

"Great. Now how do we open it?" Ron asked.

"Open Sesame!" Draco shouted at the sink, earning him weird looks from Ron and Harry.

"What? It worked for Ali Baba. Haven't you read One Thousand and One Arabian Nights?" Draco asked. Ron shook his head, confused by the reference.

"Isn't that a muggle book?" Harry questioned in disbelief.

"Yeah… Hermione lent it to me over the summer," Draco admitted sheepishly.

"Well, I don't think Ally Babwah tried to open a hidden chamber with a deadly snake that can kill people by looking at it," Ron retorted, ignoring Draco correcting his mispronunciation under his breath. "If we don't have a spell, then maybe Harry should try saying something in Parseltongue."

"That's definitely a better idea," Draco muttered, embarrassed.

Not understanding a single word, Draco and Ron watched wide-eyed as Harry hissed at the sink. There was a deep pop, startling the boys. They backed up when they saw the top of the sink levitate towards the ceiling. The circular basin that connected all the faucets split apart to reveal the entrance. The young Gryffindors cautiously approached the recently uncovered dark hole in the floor to find a colossal pipe that was big enough for the boys to jump down. Still peering into the darkness, Ron gulped.

"Well, who wants to slide down Salazar Slytherin's murder tunnel first?"

Draco smirked, "After that description, I feel like you should go."

"Uh… how about the oldest first?" Ron corrected quickly.

"Still you, Ron," Draco replied.

"No! I'm not…" the redhead trailed off, realizing his mistake.

"See? Without Hermione, you are the oldest. Remember, June comes after March," Draco reminded him.

"Stone, Parchment, Wand?" Ron squeaked, shakily holding up his fist.

"Enough! We are all going together. Ready?" Harry interjected, "On the count of three."

The boys followed Harry's command, gravity pulling them speedily through the pipe into an underground chamber several yards below the school. They landed roughly in a pile of fish bones that cracked with each step they took. Harry cast a Lumos charm to help them see better.

"We could be under the Black Lake," Ron theorized, looking upon the low carved-out ceiling.

"Let's go this way, and remember, if you see anything move, you need to shut your eyes. Immediately," Harry ordered.

The boys carefully walked through the various dirty tunnels, being vigilant of their surroundings. The ground was rocky and uneven, which made it difficult for them to watch their footing. After what felt like forever, the boys stumbled across the remains of a snakeskin that Ron commented must have been at least 60 feet long. Once they passed a few more bends and turns, they finally found a round, iron door in the wall. It was locked by stone snakes that fanned out around the metal like spokes on a wheel. Just like in the bathroom, Harry told the door to open in Parseltongue, causing a metal snake to come to life and slither around the door. The motion pushed the other snakes back and unlocked the door leading to another chamber.

The new area was much larger and more open than the tunnels they left behind. The long pathway ahead appeared to be surrounded by water and flanked by giant stone sculptures resembling a viper's head on each side of the path, like an army standing at attention. Off in the distance was a floor-to-ceiling stone monument of what Draco presumed was supposed to be the face of Salazar Slytherin. The image did not improve the closer they got to what could be considered the Chamber's center. 

"I see he went with a theme here. Can't say it's very inviting," Ron quipped when Harry suddenly stopped walking.

"Ginny!"

All three of the boys broke out in a run at the sight of Ginny Weasley lying on the cold floor, her left arm clutching the diary to her chest. Harry tried to shake her awake with no success. Ron begged Draco to use the spell on her that woke him up when the white queen knocked him out. It, too, was unsuccessful.

"She's so cold," Ron whispered, his voice cracking, "Please don't be dead. Please wake up."

"She won't wake," a voice said off in the distance. As the figure walked towards them, Draco could make out that he was an older student by the prefect badge on his robes, though the style was not one he recognized. Draco and Ron had no clue who the stranger was as they eyed him suspiciously, but Harry recognized him.

"Tom! Tom Riddle!"

"What do you mean she won't wake?" Ron snapped, his face dropping in realization, "She's not…."

"She's still alive, but only just," Tom Riddle replied stoically. Standing clearly in the light now, Draco noticed that he had dark brown wavy hair and a sharp jawline. The look on his face was quite callous, and any hope Draco had that this stranger could be an angel in disguise quickly vanished.

"Wait… Are… Are you a ghost?" Draco asked skeptically.

"A memory… preserved in a diary for 50 years. Safeguarded by a most trusted and loyal servant acting in the name of Salazar himself," Tom drawled, his eyes narrowing on Draco, "Such a shame the son could not live up to the name of the father."

"My… My father hid your diary?" Draco stuttered, the mystery coming together, "This summer… This was the dark artifact my parents fought about. He wanted to give it to me. He wanted me to open the Chamber of Secrets."

"Yes, now you are starting to comprehend," Tom said with a flourish before he went on, "So imagine my surprise when it wasn't the Malfoy Scion but an eleven-year-old girl who started writing in my pages… divulging all her secrets. Ginny was so lonely and, of course, being her only friend, had no problem sharing with me her deepest desires and venting her frustrations. You see, the more poor little Ginny sought comfort in my diary, the stronger I became until it was only too easy to manipulate and control her. Not that she knew what she was doing. Let's just say she was in a sort of a trance."

"No, that's not possible," Ron denied, "She couldn't! She wouldn't!" 

"It was Ginny Weasley who opened the Chamber of Secrets. It was Ginny who set the Basilisk on the Mudbloods and Filch's cat. Ginny, who wrote the threatening messages on the walls," Tom taunted Ron.

"No! You're lying!" Ron yelled, tears streaming down his face as Draco held him back from lunging at Riddle.

"Why?" Harry demanded, "Why after all this time?"

"Why? To meet you, of course," Tom stated. He was circling the Gryffindors like a vulture eyeing his prey.

"Me?" Harry asked, confused.

"Yes, I had to talk to you. Meet you if I could. When Lucius failed to hand Draco the diary, he tossed it off to the next most convenient person to bring my story to life, but then the power of the diary became too much for her. And so, Ginny tried to dispose of it that day in the bathroom… only for the person I was most anxious to communicate with, pick up a quill and take to the pages. But I had to gain your trust somehow, so I decided to show you my capture of that brainless oaf Hagrid."

"Hagrid's our friend!" Harry spat, "and you framed him, didn't you?"

"It was my word against Hagrid's. Only Dumbledore seemed to think he was innocent," Tom recalled with disdain.

Harry smirked, "I bet Dumbledore saw right through you."

"He certainly kept an annoyingly close eye on me after that. I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still at school, so I decided to leave behind a diary, thus preserving my 16-year-old self in its pages so that one day I would be able to lead another to finish Salazar Slytherin's noble work!" Tom revealed.

"Well, you won't finish it this time!" Ron yelled.

"That's right!" Draco added, "In a few hours, the Mandrake Draught will be ready, and everyone the Basilisk petrified will be all right again!" 

Riddle manically laughed, "Haven't I told you? Killing Mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore."

The ghost, no spirit? Essence maybe? The lifeforce of Tom Riddle just kept dropping bombshell after bombshell of information that left Draco dizzy just by trying to keep up. He was barely coping with the fact that his father essentially wanted him to become possessed by a cursed object and be used to harm his best friend and others like her. But if opening the Chamber and ridding the school of those Slytherin deemed unqualified to learn magic wasn't the heir's goal, then what was? Draco was about to get his answer.

"For many months now, my new target has been you," Tom pointed at Harry, his eyes narrowed in a deadly gaze. "How is it that a baby with no extraordinary magical talent was able to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"

"Why do you care how I escaped? Voldemort was after your time," Harry questioned.

Tom gave an evil smirk, "Voldemort is my past, present, and future."

He summoned Harry's wand from the Gryffindor's hand using wandless magic, raising it in the air and writing his full name. With the wave of his arm, the burning letters moved to form a hidden message: 

I

Am

Lord Voldemort

Chapter Text

The trio stood there in shock. Their jaws dropped open at the revelation that Tom Marvolo Riddle was the origin of the most famous dark wizard of all time. Not only that, but he was the true Heir of Slytherin. 

"You're… Voldemort," Harry whispered. 

"Surely you didn't think I was going to keep my filthy muggle father's name after I discovered who I truly was. No, I fashioned myself a new name. One that was worthy of being known as the greatest sorcerer in the world!"

"Albus Dumbledore is the greatest sorcerer in the world!" Harry yelled back. 

"Dumbledore has been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!" Tom defended. 

"He'll never be gone. Not as long as those who remain are loyal to him," Harry pointed out vehemently. 

As if Harry's words called upon the advice that Dumbledore slipped to them in Hagrid's hut, help came in the form of a phoenix descending into the Chamber. The magical bird's trilling echoed through the room as the creature majestically flew down and dropped something made of tattered leather into Harry's hands. The boy-who-lived quickly unwrapped it to reveal that it was the Sorting Hat.

Riddle laughed, "So this is what Dumbledore sends his great defender? A songbird and an old hat." 

"Alright, enough! Harry, let's get Ginny and get out of here! Now!" Ron cried out.

Not wanting the boys to escape, Tom held up his hand and shouted a command in Parseltongue. The room began to lightly quake as the mouth on the Salazar Slytherin monument opened. 

"Let's match the power of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against the famous Harry Potter and his blood traitors." 

The tip of the Basilisk's mouth was barely visible in the newly formed entrance when all three boys immediately turned around and ran. 

"What about my sister?" Ron yelled while Riddle was giving the giant snake commands. 

"Kill the snake first. Get Ginny after," Harry panted.

"We need to split up," Draco suggested, "It can't kill all of us if we split up."

Draco could hear the Basilisk growling behind him, quickly gaining speed. His adrenaline was pumping, and his survival senses heightened as he quickly looked for an escape route. He was about to turn down a series of tunnels when he saw that Harry tripped, trying to change directions. 

"Harry!" he shouted, jumping in front of the Basilisk with his eyes closed. There was no time to think. No time to plan or process. He just hoped that the snake would recognize his blood, distracting the Basilisk long enough for Harry to escape. Draco braced himself for his inevitable doom, but it never came. Instead, the Phoenix swooped down and attacked the monster, saving both him and Harry. Draco turned around and opened his eyes, helping Harry up off the ground. The two boys looked up at the ceiling and watched through the animals' shadows as the Phoenix gouged out the snake's eyes. 

"No!" Tom shouted, "Your bird may have blinded the Basilisk, but it can still hear you!" 

Harry and Draco split off into different directions when the Basilisk lunged toward the sound of their wet feet running on the stone, missing and making a massive hole in the pathway. Draco watched from behind one of the viper statues as the monster went after Harry through a different tunnel. When the snake left the Chamber, Draco found Ron hiding behind a pillar on the other side. The two made eye contact, coming to a nonverbal conclusion to run back for Ginny while Harry was diverting the Basilisk. 

"How do we get her out?" Draco asked.  

"Can you help me lift her?" Ron suggested, trying to keep his voice from cracking, "You grab her legs, and I'll grab her arms." 

Tom shook his head at the boys, "You are too late. The process is nearly complete. Soon, Ginny Weasley will be dead, and I will cease to be a memory. Lord Voldemort will return very much alive." 

"Ignore him. Let's go…while the Basilisk is distracted," Harry panted, running out from a tunnel behind them. 

As soon as the words left Harry's mouth, the snake emerged from the pool of water in front of the monument, filling the Chamber with unnerving shrieking sounds. Startled, Harry took a step back. The noise was enough for the Basilisk to pick up, centering its’ body in Harry's direction. The boy-who-lived dashed for the edges of Salazar's head and started to climb. 

Draco turned to Ron, "I'm going to help him. You get Ginny out of here." 

The redhead did not argue as he hooked his arms under his sister's armpits and started to drag her out of the Chamber. Ron didn't get far, for Riddle blocked his path, still holding Harry's wand. Draco panicked for a second at the thought of Ron having to use his broken Ashwood to defend himself when he realized that he was still carrying Lockhart's wand! Draco yelled to get his friend's attention before tossing the Cherrywood for Ron to catch. Momentarily relieved that Ron was now on better footing to face Riddle, Draco turned from the duel to see Harry still climbing away from the Basilisk, the snake striking at the stone in the monument and just missing his friend. Out of the corner of his eye, something sparkled, catching Draco's attention. The once empty hat now held the handle of a sword. Draco pulled the weapon out, raising it to inspect the blade in the low light for a moment. It was a beautiful metal that was completely free of rust and adorned with rubies along the hilt. 

Looking for where Harry had went, Draco found him standing completely defenseless on top of Salazar’s head. Not hesitating, Draco stabbed the sword into whatever flesh of the snake was accessible. He managed to get two strikes in before the Basilisk targeted its attack onto the blond wizard. Running to the other side, Draco climbed the stone head as fast as possible until he could almost reach Harry. He called out to the dark-haired wizard and threw the sword to him just before the Basilisk lunged. The force of the blow destroyed the small landing that Draco was standing on, sending him crashing down the side and into the small pool of water below.  

Harry yelled for Draco as he watched his comrade fall, worried for his safety. The Basilisk was confused about which noise to follow. The monster's head moved back and forth between the splashing water or the shouting from off to the side. Eventually, the Basilisk made a decision and raised itself to be eye level with Harry, who took the sword and thrust it through the roof of the snake's open mouth. The monster shrieked in pain while violently shaking its head back and forth in distress before falling over backward. Dead. 

Ron and Tom Riddle stopped their duel and watched the demise of Slytherin's monster. Riddle's face contorted in pure fury as Draco swam out of the pool, around the body, while Harry carefully climbed down the monument. The boy-who-lived was limping, dragging the bloody weapon behind him. Draco and Ron immediately came to his aid and gasped when they saw his right forearm bleeding from one of the Basilisk's fangs stuck in the skin. Ron held Harry steady while Draco quickly pulled the tooth out. Harry was panting and clutching his arm, trying to keep from screaming. The wound was burning, and he felt so sleepy. In a few seconds, Harry lost his balance and could no longer stand. Draco and Ron caught their friend before he could collapse and slowly lowered him to the ground next to Ginny. Harry was starting to lose his eyesight, but he could make out the shape of the discarded diary that laid open in front of him. 

"Remarkable how quickly the venom of the Basilisk penetrates the body. I'd guess you have little more than a minute to live," Riddle taunted, ignoring Draco and Ron's pleas for Harry to be alright, "You'll be with your dear mudblood mother soon." 

Harry just glared at Tom Riddle. He leaned across Draco and picked up the fang. 

"What are you doing?" Riddle questioned.  

"Taking you with me," Harry said under his breath before stabbing the tooth into one of the pages. Ink seeped out the new hole the fang had made, coating Harry's hand. Tom screamed in pain as his lifeforce started to drain which was evident by the white light that had emerged from his chest.

"That's it, Harry! It's working!" Ron shouted, encouraging him. 

Harry picked the fang up again and stabbed the other side. More ink leaked from the pages. Tom's fading essence was almost gone, the evil presence crying out in agony with each blow. Draco flipped the book close to the back cover with the embroidered name. Harry's strength was quickly fading. He was struggling to raise the fang and stab the diary one more time. Ron and Draco each took a hand and grasped Harry's, helping him deliver the final blow. Tom's essence exploded, the burning ash of his noncorporal image disintegrated right before the boys' eyes. After a few seconds, Ginny began to stir. 

"Ginny? Oh, Ginny! You're awake!" Ron cried, hugging his sister tight. Harry used some of his remaining energy to smile at the sight before him. They stopped the Heir of Slytherin and saved Ginny Weasley. That was all that mattered. 

"Ron! Something is wrong with Harry. The Basilisk poisoned him! How do we stop it?" Draco asked frantically. Once again, the Phoenix appeared and landed in front of the young Gryffindors. The bird tilted its head as if analyzing the wound. 

"You were… brilliant," Harry whispered to the creature. 

Bristling its feathers in gratitude, the Phoenix lowered its’ head to be directly over Harry's forearm and began to cry thick translucent tears. They slid off the tip of its beak and directly into Harry's wound. Draco watched wide-eyed as the tears magically healed and closed the cut as if it never happened. With his strength returned, Harry sat up and thanked the bird. 

"Of course!" Draco realized, "Phoenix tears have healing powers! They are extremely rare and can even save a person on the brink of death." 

"But… all the horrible things I did…." Ginny whispered, tears pooling in her eyes. 

"You didn't do those things, Gin. Riddle made you," Ron reassured her. 

"It was like I was going mad. I didn't trust my own mind. Luna… oh, Merlin, Luna! She knew something was wrong and tried to help me. And I was just… so awful to her. She will never forgive me!" She sobbed. 

"It's going to be alright, Ginny," Harry tried to calm her. 

"I'm going to be expelled," she whispered, the realization frightening her. 

"No, you won't," Draco said firmly, causing everyone to stare at him, "My father is responsible for all of this. He couldn't give me the diary, so he gave it to the most vulnerable person present. There also might have been a… personal vendetta when he chose Ginny as his target. Ginny, Ron, I promise to do everything I can to make sure he pays for this." 

"Don't do anything that's going to get you in trouble, or expelled, or transferred," Ron warned him, handing Draco the cherrywood wand back, "Just make sure that Ginny is labeled completely innocent in all this." 

Draco nodded, "That I'm confident I can do." 

"Well, we can't do anything until we get out of here," Harry pointed out, reaching down to pick up his wand that Tom dropped. 

The Phoenix cawed at the boys as if it was trying to get their attention. Without warning, the bird flew into the air and grabbed Draco's robe, pinching the fabric between his shoulder blades. 

"Whoa!" Draco gasped as the Phoenix lifted him in the air. 

"This might be mad, but I think the Phoenix wants to carry us out?" Ron guessed. 

"Right, Ron, you grab Draco's leg, I'll grab Ron's leg, and then Ginny you and hold onto mine," Harry commanded, putting the diary in Draco's robe pocket and then picking up the Sword. 

"Right, weight distribution," Ron muttered, pocketing the sorting hat and doing as instructed. When everyone was secured to each other the Phoenix took off and up into the air. Flapping its’ wings a few times to get them started, the Phoenix easily navigated the four young students out of the underground tunnels. Draco sighed in relief as they soared through a narrow hole in the ceiling and came out out near the Black Lake. The magical creature then glided over the grounds and up into the castle, landing just outside Professor McGonagall's office. After they detached from one another and the Phoenix in turn, Harry called upon his Gryffindor courage and opened the door.  

At first, there was silence in the room as Professor McGonagall, a recently returned Professor Dumbledore, and Molly and Arthur Weasley stared at the grimy children. They really looked quite frightful with Ron coated in slime, Harry covered in blood, and Draco soaking wet. Before Harry could explain what happened, there was a shriek. 

"Ginny! Is that you, darling?" Molly Weasley ran over to embrace her only daughter, crying hysterically and peppering the top of her head with kisses. Arthur Weasley then pulled his son to the women and eloped his family in a grizzly type hug. 

Draco looked past the lovely reunion to see the Phoenix had landed next to Dumbledore, who was currently petting the bird. 

"Good work, Fawkes," the Headmaster praised the animal quietly. If Draco was honest, he wasn't that surprised to learn that the helpful bird belonged to… what did Harry call him? The greatest sorcerer of all time. 

"Boys…" Mr. Weasley addressed Draco and Harry, pulling the blond wizard's attention to the other adult, "Thank you. Thank you so much! I have no words to express the gratitude that Molly and I feel for saving Ginny's life. You three were all so brave. True Gryffindors." 

"How did you save her?!?" Molly asked, her tone high-pitched from crying. 

"I believe we all would like to know that explanation," Lucius Malfoy sneered, barging into the office with Dobby behind him. His hateful gaze landed on Dumbledore, "I see you've returned despite being suspended."

"Yes," Dumbledore said matter-of-factly, "I received several owls from the other governors when they heard that Arthur Weasley's daughter was killed. They believed me to be the best man for the job and immediately reinstated me. Now, if you don't mind, Lucius, I believe young Harry here was just about to tell us an intriguing tale." 

And so, Harry told them everything. He started with Hermione brewing the Polyjuice Potion and Draco's research into the pureblood lines in an attempt to track down the heir. He omitted the part about Daphne Greengrass helping them out and using the invisibility cloak to spy on the night Hagrid was taken to Azkaban but did go into detail about sneaking into the Forbidden Forrest and meeting Aragog. He praised Ron for figuring out what monster was attacking the muggleborns and how it was the information from Aragog that lead them to figure out that Mrytle was killed by the Basilisk 50 years ago because of the entrance to the Chamber was in the girl's bathroom. Harry still hid the fact that he could speak Parseltongue and skimmed most of the conversation with Tom, only to reveal that he was 16-year-old Voldemort who had the goal to murder him. Draco gave his father a sideways look that did not go unnoticed by Lucius. 

Harry concluded the tale with the battle between the boys and the Basilisk, informing them that killing the beast and destroying the diary broke the curse and brought Ginny back to life. The boy-who-lived held up the bloody sword he was still carrying and set it on McGonagall's desk. Ron followed suit and placed the Sorting Hat next to it. Lastly, Draco came forward and put the torn diary in the center of the desk. When Harry finished, everyone was silent, processing the information. It was Molly who broke it with a strangled sob. 

"But why Ginny? Why did… HE… go after her?" 

"Because I had the diary. Tom would talk to me, and I would write back. He… was very persuasive," Ginny started crying, which caused her parents to envelope her in another hug. 

"You can't expel her!" Draco yelled, getting everyone's attention. He lowered his head, embarrassed by his outburst. Ron stepped in to continue Draco's thought, "Professor Dumbledore. Ginny wasn't in her right mind. The diary is…was a dark artifact. It possessed her and forced her to act against her will and left her with no memory!" 

"Ah yes… there is the matter of expulsion. If I remember correctly, Mr. Weasley, I warned you and Mr. Potter after the flying car incident that if you broke any more school rules that I would have no choice but to expel you as well," the Headmaster stated. Ron's face turned white as a ghost until Dumbledore continued, "Therefore, it is only fitting that you, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Malfoy should receive special awards for services to the school." 

The boys beamed in delight at the announcement when McGonagall chimed in, "I believe we should take Miss Weasley to the hospital wing for treatment." 

"Ah, yes, and Arthur, if you wouldn't mind having an owl mail these release papers, I would be much obliged," Dumbledore handed the letters to Mr. Weasley as the family of three made their exit. 

"There is one more matter I would like to ask you three before you go," McGonagall said sternly to the boys, "What in Godric's name did you do to Professor Lockhart?" 

The three boys snickered as they silently recalled the curses Draco shot at the farce waste of magic. They immediately stopped when they saw McGonagall's disapproving look. 

"And, what exactly did happen to this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor," Lucius asked disinterestedly. 

McGonagall eyed him, "He was found bound to his office chair, silenced, and with all his hair removed from his head. He's currently in the hospital ward recovering from… 'emotional distress.'"

"Professor! You can't let him get away! That man is a liar and a twat! He has been stealing other wizard's accomplishments and passing them off as his own. He obliviates them so they can't fight Lockhart's claim. Plus, he wasn't going to help Ginny! He was packing his bags and running away when we found him in his office," Draco explained before he pulled out Lockhart's wand and set it on the desk, "I'm the one who cast the jinxes on him. If you have to expel me, I understand. But Lockhart should be in Azkaban! Harry, Ron, and I can provide you memories of the confession to help in his conviction." 

Lucius's mouth was in a thin line of disgust at hearing what his son did. Dobby accidentally let out a giggle of delight at hearing Draco's tale, which earned him a brutal hit to the head from his master's cane. Draco clenched his fists and bit his tongue when he saw his father punishing the elf. Hermione had been helping Draco come up with ways to free Dobby, but they had been entirely unsuccessful. He was so focused on the elf that he didn't notice Harry mouthing for Ron to take his sock off, passing the cloth to Harry. 

The silence that followed Draco's admission felt like it dragged on until McGonagall finally spoke, "Not today, Mr. Malfoy." 

Draco sighed in relief when his father interjected, "You cannot be serious! These boys should be punished! Not only did they violate school conduct, but they…." 

"Saved a girl's life," Dumbledore cut him off, "I can't help but to wonder, Lucius, what would have happened if the heir succeeded. The Weasleys are, after all, one of the most prominent pureblood families in Britain. Imagine the effect on Arthur Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act if his daughter was discovered attacking muggleborns. Very fortunate the diary was uncovered and that Harry had been able to pull the Sword of Godric Gryffindor from the hat thus abolishing Riddle's memory." 

Draco gasped at the revelation that the sword HE, in fact, pulled from the Sorting Hat was the relic of his house's founder. According to Hogwarts, A History, he knew that the weapon was very rare, having been crafted with goblin silver. The legend stated that the sword would appear to any true Gryffindor in need as long as noble actors of valor undertake it. Reflecting on his actions in the Chamber, Draco concluded it must have shown up when he jumped in front of the Basilisk to save Harry. 

Lucius formed a condescending smirk, "How fortunate that Mr. Potter was around to save the day." 

"But, Sir! I didn't pull the sword from the hat. Draco did," Harry acknowledged his friend, walking over to pick up the diary, "In fact, I believe that this belongs to you." 

Harry took the former cursed object and thrust it into Mr. Malfoy's arms. 

"Mine?" Lucius asked, raising an eyebrow at the boy. 

Harry nodded, "I think you slipped it into Ginny's cauldron that day in Flourish and Blotts." 

"You do, do you?" Lucius sneered, tossing the diary to Dobby to catch, "Then why don't you prove it." 

The two stared at one another, tension building in the room until Lucius dramatically flared his robe, "Come, Dobby. We are leaving. Draco," the man addressed his son, "I will see you when the term ends." 

Mr. Malfoy turned to leave the room, but the house-elf was lingering behind when he saw Harry mouthing at him to open the diary. Dobby quickly flipped through the pages and found a sock stuck in the crease of its spine. Draco's jaw dropped at the same time Dobby squeaked in delight, and his ears flapped excitedly. 

"Master has given Dobby a sock!" Dobby cried. 

"What? I didn't give you…." Lucius turned back around to see Dobby holding up the dirty, black sock in one hand and the tattered diary in the other. The man was fuming with rage as he watched his former servant dance with joy. 

"Master has presented Dobby with clothes! Dobby is free!" 

Lucius glared at Harry when Ron cleared his throat. The redhead smirked at the unpleasant wizard and cheekily raised his pant leg to show his bare ankle. Draco laughed at the scheme his best friends had pulled off, relieved and delighted that they had accomplished what Draco felt was an impossible task. 

"You…" Lucius started to growl. 

"Father," Draco interrupted what indeed would have been an epic dressing down that would have caused a first-year to wet themselves. His outburst halted Lucius's tantrum and stopped his hand from reaching for his wand to curse the boy. 

"I believe you were leaving, Lucius. Professor McGonagall can escort you off the grounds to an apparition point," Dumbledore said diplomatically. 

With a final sneer, Lucius left the office with McGonagall. Smiling, Draco kneeled in front of Dobby, "I'm so happy for you!" 

"Master Draco's friends have freed Dobby! How can Dobby ever repay them?"

"Just… never try to save my life again," Harry chuckled.

"Same, except… maybe don't try to save mine unless asked," Ron clarified. The elf's large eyes beamed up at them before he looked at Draco with concern. 

"Will Master Draco be alright?" 

"You should be more worried about yourself, Dobby. Where will you go?" Draco asked. 

The elf had a contemplative look on his face when Dumbledore cleared his throat, "The kitchens at Hogwarts are always hiring. Should you ever be interested." 

"Dobby would work for wages! And still see Master Draco and friends! But first, Dobby wants to travel." 

Draco chuckled, "You could! But you're going to have to stop calling me master. That's not my title anymore." 

Dobby leaped up into Draco's arms and hugged his first true friend goodbye. With a final snap of Dobby's fingers, the elf disappeared to embark on what would no doubt be a miraculous journey. 

Dumbledore released them after that. They gratefully made their way back to the Gryffindor common room, where they were able to discard their dirty clothing and bathe. Word got around that the Headmaster canceled classes for the day, so the boys spent most of it getting some much-needed sleep after the near-death adventure. Had there not been a celebratory feast that night, the young Gryffindors would have most likely slept well into the next day. Refreshed in casual clothing, they made their way down to the Great Hall. 

The room was abuzz with happy chattering as the news worked its way through the houses that Harry Potter and his friends, once again, saved the school, and Hogwarts was no longer closing. Draco noticed that some of the students who were petrified, like Justin and Penelope, were already reunited with their friends and classmates. He stood on his tiptoes looking for Hermione when he heard Ginny chuckle. 

"She's not down yet. Give her a minute," the young Weasley said. It did not escape his notice that Luna was looking over at the Gryffindor table, trying to catch a glimpse of the friend she was worried about. 

"You should just go talk to Luna," Draco whispered to Ginny. 

"What if she doesn't want to see me? After everything I've done… I wouldn't forgive me either," she replied. 

A part of Draco broke at her vulnerability. He knew that Luna grew up close to the Weasleys and was friends with Ginny prior to coming to the school. From what he understood, Ginny and Luna were as close as he and Theo once were. Being sorted into separate houses and, ultimately, sharing different beliefs crumbled whatever relationship he and Theo had as children. But Ginny and Luna remained friends until the diary took over. He knew his cousin. It would take more than house rivalries or an attack from the Dark Lord for Luna to stop being friends with someone she held in high regard. 

"She won't hold it against you. I promise," Draco reassured sincerely. 

His tone gave Ginny enough courage to stand up from her spot and walk around to the Ravenclaw table. Draco smiled when he saw that as soon as Ginny sat down, Luna engulfed her in a huge hug. The two girls began chatting, resuming their normal behavior and acting as if everything was right in the world. 

"Hey, Draco! Look! It's Hermione!" Neville pointed. Harry and Ron perked up as well to look towards the Great Hall entrance to see Hermione standing there proudly. She was grinning from ear to ear at the sight of her friends. A giggle bubbled out of her mouth as she took off in a run towards the Gryffindor table. Immediately after, Draco sprinted to meet her halfway resulting in the two colliding in an embrace. His arms encircled her midsection while hers instantly wrapped around his neck as they held one another. Not able to contain his elation, Draco gently picked her up off her feet. Spinning on his heels, Draco swung Hermione around in a circle a few times. By the time Draco set her back on the ground, laughter still flowed around them as she slowly unwound her arms from his neck.

There were no words to describe the pure joy and relief that Draco felt in being able to hold her again, let alone see her! Her hair was shiny and bounced with each step she took towards him. Her eyes were wide and bright with the intelligent glint that told you she was constantly analyzing something. Her lips were smooth and more natural than the corpse-like color they had been in December. Everything about her was alive. At that moment, Draco secretly vowed to protect her from ever experiencing that petrified state again. 

"It's so good to see you, Hermione. I missed you," Draco whispered to her, enticing the blush high on her cheeks that he dreamed about seeing again. 

Before she could say anything back, Harry came up behind her and patted her on the shoulder, "Welcome back, Hermione." 

The two broke apart so Hermione could hug Harry and Ron. When she spoke, the four formed their usual group square, "I can't believe you three solved it! I want to hear everything that happened!" 

Before the Gryffindors could regale her with the past four months, McGonagall clinked her glass and called the room to order, the action a subtle command for the four to take their seats. Draco couldn't help but feel satisfied that everything felt normal when he quickly glanced around and saw everyone in their usual spots at the Gryffindor table. Draco and Hermione together with Ron and Harry across from them. 

Dumbledore rose to address the room, "Before we begin this special feast, let us have a round of applause for Professor Sprout, Madam Pomfrey… whose Mandrake juice has been successfully administered to all who had been petrified." 

The room erupted in applause. The two professors looked slightly embarrassed by the praise but graciously accepted it nonetheless. Draco looked over his shoulder to see that hardly anyone at the Slytherin table was clapping. He couldn't make out Theo's face but did manage to make eye contact with Daphne, who gave the boys a quick wink and a slight toast in acknowledgment. The gesture did not go unnoticed by Hermione, who whispered in Draco's ear, "What was that all about?"

Draco chuckled as the applause died down, "We'll tell you later." 

"Also, in light of recent events… all end-of-year exams have been canceled!" Dumbledore announced, the news causing much more celebration and whistles about the room as students were relieved. They could continue their final month of school in peace. Hermione seemed to be the only one upset. 

"Really? You spend four months under a curse, and you are mad about not having to take a test? I will never understand you, Hermione…." Ron shook his head at her. 

Draco playfully nudged her, "It's alright, love. You probably already know all the material anyway." 

"I know a fair bit, yes… but I'm going to be so far behind for next year! I'll just have to find a way to catch up," she stated. 

__________________

Later that night, the four Gryffindors stayed up well into the early morning hours, telling Hermione how they solved the mystery. She was equally proud and impressed with all three of them for their bravery, intelligence, and ingenuity. Ron and Harry were about to head to bed when Hermione noticed something off with Harry's expression. 

"What's wrong, Harry," she politely inquired. 

"It's just… I can't help but notice similarities between Tom and myself when we were talking in the Chamber. If you think about it… we're both orphans, we both speak Parseltongue, and… I don't think I've ever told you guys this, but the Sorting Hat initially wanted to put me in Slytherin. If I had listened to it…." 

Draco cut off Harry's train of thought, "But the hat didn't! Just like it didn't with me." 

Harry smiled at Draco, "I remember… when the hat was talking to me… it kept telling me that I would do well in Slytherin. Did it say anything similar to you?" 

"No, it didn't say anything, but I felt something. Like… the hat poked around in my mind for a second, and I remember feeling the moment the hat had made its decision, but then… it saw something else and quickly changed its mind," Draco explained. 

"I remember it laughing at you and said something about 'the Black line' repeating itself?" Ron added. 

Draco nodded, "My mother's maiden name is Black. Everyone in her family, except for one person, was sorted into Slytherin." 

"Who was it?" Harry asked curiously. 

"Sirius Black," Draco said. 

Ron gasped and shuddered at the name, "Blimey! I didn't know you were related to him!" 

"I don't know much. According to my mother, he was disowned and blasted off the Black Family Tapestry," Draco explained, "My father doesn't… let's just say, 'encourage' talking about those who are a disgrace to the family name." 

"But he was a mass murderer!" Ron raised his voice in disbelief. 

"I think being a mass murderer is a good reason to not talk about why someone was disowned," Hermione admonished Ron before addressing Draco and Harry, "Regardless whether you asked the hat or the hat came to its own conclusion of where to put you… I believe it is not the abilities you possess but the decisions you make that guide the Sorting Hat." 

"Why do you think that, Hermione?" Ron asked. 

"Otherwise, the Sorting Hat would have placed me in Ravenclaw. It went back and forth for a while, but I think it chose Gryffindor because it ultimately saw that I valued friendship and courage over books and knowledge," she contemplated. 

"Am I the only one the hat didn't have to think about? Did it just sense the red hair, and…" Ron rudely gestured. He appeared to be a little jealous that everyone had a sorting moment, and he didn't have that experience. 

"Ron!" Hermione chastised him. 

Draco laughed before consoling his friend, "Honestly, Ron? If what Hermione hypothesized is true… then you have the strongest character out of all of us. You're loyal and choose to fight, even when it's in the face of your greatest fear. I mean... how many 12-year-olds can say they dueled the ghost of teenage Voldemort… and won!? That's what makes you a true Gryffindor." 

Draco's sentiment genuinely touched Ron. If you asked him later, Ron would deny that he almost cried at hearing his friend's praise. Swiftly composing himself, he muttered out a quiet, "Thanks, mate." 

"If it's still bothering you, Harry, then maybe you should go talk to Dumbledore sometime before the semester ends," Hermione suggested. 

 Harry and Ron went to bed shortly after that, leaving Draco and Hermione alone on the couch. The two were huddled close together in front of the fireplace, her head resting on his shoulder. In the stillness of the night with the low crackling of the fire, Hermione's mind easily brought her back to thinking about the unlikely allyship with Daphne Greengrass. Like Ron, she, too, was a bit skeptical and would have objected to the decision to bring Daphne into the fold. At the present moment, she was more concerned about what this would mean going forward. If the rest of Slytherin found out that one of their own betrayed the house, then there would undoubtedly be consequences all around. Draco assured Hermione could trust Daphne, but it did little to sway the clever witch. 

If Hermione was completely honest with herself, part of her distrust towards the Slytherin had to do with insecurity. Daphne was beautiful, bright, and… dare she think it… a pureblood. Simply put, the witch was attractive, confident, and she knew Draco prior to starting Hogwarts. Knowing a bit about the type of world Draco came from, it was difficult to believe that Daphne helped the boys solely because it was the right thing to do. What if she had a crush on Draco, and that was her motivation? Her display in the Great Hall, though subtle, was certainly friendly enough. But an even more dangerous thought, what if Draco liked her back? 

Over the summer, Hermione talked a lot with her parents about her first year at the magical boarding school. She described her classes in extensive detail and tried to articulate how it felt to practice magic, but with almost every sentence, she also mentioned Draco. While Hermione spoke briefly about Harry and Ron, Draco was the subject that monopolized her discussions. One night as she was getting ready to sleep, Hermione heard a conversation in the kitchen between her parents she was not meant to be privy to. Her father, Richard Granger, was testy about the fact that Hermione had only managed to make friends with three boys and thought she was too close with Draco. Her mother, Kathryn Granger, laughed off his worry and placated the man's fear that Hermione would fancy one of her new friends. She didn't understand the meaning, so naturally, Hermione used her remaining free time to research more about what her mother was referring to. By the time Hermione boarded the Hogwarts Express, she didn't completely understand if her feelings for Draco were a "crush," but none the less she was determined to discuss the subject with him and ascertain his feelings on the topic. As she was working out exactly what to say to Draco so there would be no miscommunication or misunderstanding when the whistle blew. Signaling their impending arrival, Hermione lost her nerve and didn't have a chance to revisit the topic until after everything else happened, which only complicated Hermione's feelings even more. The only positive thing that came out of being petrified for four months was that it forced her to face the truth and admit that she, indeed, liked Draco even more than a friend. Outside the fact that the wizard was just… absolutely dashing, Draco was intelligent, kind, and everything else that made the butterflies in Hermione's stomach flutter. After an indeterminable amount of time, Draco finally decided it was time to have a long-overdue conversation and break the silence. 

"This year wasn't the same without you. Don't get me wrong, Harry and Ron are great mates, but they could never replace you as my best friend." 

There it was. The confession Hermione had been searching for. Draco only thought of her as his best friend and nothing more. Hermione's inner voice started to get louder as each new thought popped to the forefront of her mind. 

Why did you think you could be more than friends? He doesn't want you. Your hair is too unruly, and your teeth are too large. He is more than you deserve. You are never going to be together. He doesn't want to hold your hand or…

"Hermione? Are you alright? Don't spiral, love. Did I say something wrong?" Draco asked in concern. He gently wrapped his hand around her wrist. The touch pulled her out of the negative self-talk that plagued her mind. 

"I'm…" she went to apologize but stopped when Draco took his free hand to hover over her mouth. 

"What did I tell you? Never apologize for that, Hermione. Do you want to tell me what it was about?" Draco asked her. 

She shook her head. 

Sighing, Draco lowered his hand and started to rub soothing circles on the inside of her wrist. After a few moments of silence, Hermione finally got up the courage to ask, "How do you know… how did you know how to stop the panic attacks. When you touch my wrist and press on my pulse point, how did you know that would work?"

"Because it's what my father does for my mother," he admitted. 

"Your mother?" Hermione opened her mouth as if to pry further but stopped when she recognized the look Draco had in his eyes that told her he wouldn't elaborate. 

"Not tonight, Hermione." He paused for a moment, thinking of how to change the topic. After a few minutes of silence, he finally spoke, "This year has been a lot. I mean… so much happened! We still don't definitively know why Harry can speak Parseltongue. You spent most of the year petrified. Ginny has to come to terms with the things she'd done while possessed. And I… I have to confront my father in less than a month." 

"I can't believe he would be so cruel. To sacrifice you in the name of blood purity!" Hermione agreed with him, outraged. Her temper settled after a moment before she looked into his worried grey eyes with concern, "Will you be alright? You're not doubting you belong in Gryffindor, too?"

Not wanting to lie to her, Draco admitted, "I honestly don't know." 

 "First off, if you want proof you belong in this house, then all you need to remember is that you pulled the Sword of Godric Gryffindor from the hat. Not Harry. Not Ron. You. And second," Hermione leaned forward and hugged Draco fiercely, "I will always help you, Draco. Whatever you need." 

"Thanks, love," Draco replied sleepily. They didn't stay like that for long, the two coming to the same conclusion that it had been a long enough night and it was time for bed. 

___________________________

The last month of school flew by in no time at all. Hagrid returned the day after the celebratory feast; his record cleared thanks to Draco, Ron, and Harry. Draco found out in a letter from his mother that his father did lose his position on the Board of Governors, which meant that any control the man had over changes to Hogwarts in retaliation of recent events would not happen. However, what was probably the most rewarding was seeing Hermione's expression of disbelief when Lockhart's mugshot splayed across the front page of every magical newspaper in print. The former Defense Against the Dark Arts professor was sentenced to life in Azkaban for unauthorized use of memory charms, threatening underage wizards, and forgery. 

The closer the term's end came, the more melancholy Draco felt about boarding the Hogwarts Express home. Two days before the train's departure, Draco was lying peacefully asleep before being awoken by a loud, disruptive whistling noise. 

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Hermione shouted, startling Draco enough that he rolled off the side of his bed. Hermione winced when she heard him thump onto the wooden floor. 

"Bloody hell, 'Mione!" Ron shouted at her, "It's barely sunrise!" 

"Get up, you two! It's our best friend's birthday, and the last day we get to spend together before going home. You have 20 minutes to get dressed and meet me down in the common room," she commanded. 

"What in Merlin's great hairy ball sack did you use to wake us up?" Draco asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 

"It's a muggle device called a 'noisemaker.' They are used at parties and celebrations to make all kinds of fun commotion," She explained excitedly. 

Draco smiled at her enthusiasm, "Can I try it?"

Hermione handed him the noisemaker and instructed him to place the plastic between his lips and blow. Draco did just that and made a very long, obnoxious noise. When he finished, he and Hermione were laughing hysterically while Harry and Ron were covering their ears. 

"Hermione! Get out! This is the boy's dormitory!" Dean Thomas yelled at her, angry to be woken up so early. 

The clever witch rolled her eyes before pointing at the boys to reiterate, "20 minutes. I have a full day planned with many fun activities like Exploding Snaps and an afternoon quidditch friendly, which you three will be participating in, and I will happily be cheering from the stands. After that there will be cake and, of course, presents!" 

Draco stared at his best friend in amazement as she skipped out of the dorm room. She thoughtfully organized a wonderful day for Draco with all of his favorite things. Plus, he was surrounded by all the people he cared about and wanted in his life. He was so incandescently happy by the time night rolled around. It was truly, an absolutely perfect day, and there was nothing more magical than that. 

End of Year Two

Chapter Text

Draco usually loved the summer holidays. It was the one time of year the climate in Great Britain mainly was agreeable, plus it meant time off from the structured private tutorage that he endured as a child. While these things added to the exuberant feeling of summer, nothing compared to the actual freedom of time Draco gained with the holiday. He could decide one day to sleep in and then the subsequent day go creek stomping in the wooded acres away from the manor. But the summer before his third year was anything but the lackadaisical dream Draco had been praying for. 

The year before was fraught with a monster that petrified the muggleborn students and a cursed diary that his father strategically planted and almost killed Ginny Weasley. Draco's father was a connoisseur of sorts for dark artifacts, so it was no surprise that he would possess something as sinister as a book that held the teenage version of the Dark Lord. What did disturb the boy the most was that his father intended Draco, his only son, to be sacrificed in a futile quest to open the Chamber of Secrets. When the initial plan was nixed by his mother, his father placed it in Ginny Weasley's cauldron with the hope any damage it caused would irreparably ruin the Weasleys. The diary possessed her and set loose the Basilisk, a giant snake, into the castle, and it petrified five students and a ghost. One of them had been his best friend, Hermione Granger. 

While Draco, Harry, and Ron were able to stop the entire plight, he had to deal with the fallout almost immediately once he returned home. His father cursed and yelled at Draco not only for his part in stopping the Dark Lord's rise but for allowing his housemates to free one of their house-elves. Harry was clever enough to slip Ron's sock between the diary's pages and trick his father into handing it to Dobby, effectively freeing the elf from servitude. It was genuinely poetic justice that a Weasley outplay Lucius Malfoy after he fought so hard to try and discredit the family's patriarch. 

Draco endured hours' worth of insults and horrible comments about himself, his friends, and their actions when Narcissa arrived home from an afternoon tea. She promptly put a stop to the punishment and now months later, neither his father or him had exchanged any kind of commentary. Draco was given no explanation or justification as to why his father acted the way he had other than, "it is your birthright to serve the Dark Lord in whatever capacity you are able. When he returns, you will bow. When he calls, you will answer." 

Lucius Malfoy said the threat hypnotically like a foreboding prophecy that Voldemort's resurrection was inevitable. Draco had been afraid of his father before, but this was the first time he felt truly terrified for his life. Since Lucius could no longer take out his anger on Dobby, he did petty, cruel things to get a rise out of Draco all summer. For example, he locked the family owl, a black barn owl named Caliban, up in his private suite, which left Draco unable to use him for further communication with his friends. What was most frustrating was that he almost missed sending Harry his birthday present. Thank Merlin for his mother, who loaned her owl, a beautiful copper and white barn owl named Miranda.

Harry Potter had never celebrated a birthday in his life. When Ron, Hermione, and Draco heard that, they secretly plotted to rectify the situation and give Harry the best presents they could send via owl. Hermione had purchased Harry a personal broomstick service kit. Draco coordinated with her and got Harry new Dragonhide leather arm and shin guards to use in the upcoming quidditch matches. He didn't know what Ron was planning to send, but he saw that his family won a trip to Egypt and the grand prize money of 500 gallons from the Daily Prophet drawing. No doubt that Ron would find something exciting and exotic abroad. Lucius canceled their subscription the day after they made the front page. 

Letters with Hermione were more frequent than they were not since using his mother's owl. Hermione enjoyed her holiday and had several notes on her History of Magic essay that she wanted to bounce off Draco. He actually finished his paper the first week of break, mostly because he was bored in his self-isolation in an attempt to avoid his father. Despite the challenges, they continued with a new tradition of exchanging books back and forth. Draco would give her works by wizard authors, and Hermione would introduce him to her favorite muggle writers. This summer, she had gifted him a more challenging book filled with all kinds of muggle references he didn't understand. This Wells fellow described an extremely complicated time-traveling machine when a TimeTurner could solve all the issues. Each letter to Hermione had pages of questions, practically asking her to explain the entire plot. She replied to all of them in carefully crafted answers that explained what he needed without spoilers.

After weeks dragged on of what Draco was dubbing the worst summer vacation ever, he finally received his school supplies list for this year's books. At the end of last year, the students selected the electives they would be taking for the following term. Each student was allowed to pick a maximum of three electives but had to choose a minimum of one of the courses offered. Harry and Ron decided they were going to take Care of Magical Creatures and Divination. Draco thought Hermione would take at least three electives and decided to take the same as Ron and Harry but add on Ancient Runes meeting on Friday mornings.

As Draco was rifling through the list, he saw another slip of parchment fall out onto the table. It was a permission slip for Hogsmeade. Of course! How could he forget that third years and above got that extra privilege? He was about to pick up the form and take it to his mother when his father reached over and snatched the permission slip.

"Oh? What's this? 'I hereby give my child permission to visit Hogsmeade Village on the following weekends….' Hmm…" Lucius hummed in faux contemplation. His expression was unreadable.

Draco knew his father was toying with him. He was determined not to give in to an outburst and let the man win whatever game he was playing. Steadying himself, he took a deep breath, "Yes, father. The third years get to start visiting the wizard village close to the school on weekends."

"How quaint… however, I don't think it would be necessary for you to attend these outings, seeing as you have quite an extensive course load," Lucius drawled, pocketing the permission slip.

"My grades are fine! Nearly perfect!" Draco shouted.

"Nearly," Lucius reminded him in a condescending tone, "That mudblood was petrified for nearly half the term, and the Headmaster canceled exams. There was no ranking for the current year, so you maintained your status from the previous year. If you cannot excel above those who are less than you, then I see no point in rewarding you."

"I hate you!" Draco yelled after a retreating Lucius. Grabbing the remains of his Hogwarts letter, he stormed off to his room. Hot angry tears fell down his cheeks and into his hands. Draco never understood or related to his father. Where the man was self-persevering and cold, Draco strived to be honest and forge friendships. Being the sole heir to the Malfoy line, Draco grew up with these expectations of who to be and how to act. He frequently observed his father's behavior, which was always different depending on the person in his company. Those he considered colleagues or powerful acquittances, he was polite and almost friendly. Then there were those he viewed to not be up to his stature. He would not give those people the time of day, and if they dared to utter a word to the great Lucius Malfoy, then they would receive his signature sneer. It was the double standard that Draco found the most annoying, and each time he refused to emulate the behavior only added to his father's disappointment of not living up to the expectations as the next head of their house.

Son, you ask too many questions. Curiosity will eventually lead to your demise. Draco, we do not associate with those people. They are blood traitors. That is not how someone in your class acts. Sit up and command the respect of the room you enter. 

On and on, the critiques replayed in Draco's mind, constantly reminding him of how he wasn't good enough or was a failure. Was it so wrong that Draco could think for himself? Was it so terrible to branch out and talk to other people who didn't try to kiss the ground his father walked on? Was it so absurd of Draco to want a choice in his life? He didn't come out of his room until the following day when his mother knocked on the door.

"My dragon, are you well?" she asked, opening the door.

"I'm fine," Draco said, letting out a tired sigh.

Narcissa sat on the bed, "I heard you got into a fight with your father yesterday. Do you want to tell me what it was about?"

Draco rolled over, "He said I couldn't go to Hogsmeade. That I didn't deserve to go on the field trips this year."

"I see…" Narcissa trailed off.

"He's been so horrible! It's one thing to deny me using the family owl or take away the newspaper, but this will not only affect my current year! It could carry out to the rest of my time at Hogwarts!"

"Calm down, Draco. I'll talk to him and see if I can't get him to agree. The real reason why I came up here today was that I wanted to invite you along to Diagon Alley. I have a meeting with the Board at Saint Mungo's this morning. If I give you the coins, can you be trusted to get your school supplies?"

Draco eagerly nodded his head, earning him a small chuckle from Narcissa, "Excellent. Meet me down in the front parlor in five minutes. We are flooing to the Leaky Cauldron."

By the time he was ready to go, Draco was practically bouncing in his steps. They hardly traveled through the floo network because his father believed it to be an uncivilized form of transportation, but his mother had no problems using it every now and again. They stepped in together, Narcissa holding the fine grey powder in her hand. She shouted their destination before dropping the substance at their feet. A massive green flame engulfed them, activating the connection. Draco felt his body being pulled up and through the channel as the wind roared in his ears. In a few seconds, he and Narcissa were sliding out of the giant fireplace into the famous wizard London pub and inn. As he was brushing off his robes, he heard someone call his name. Looking up, Draco saw Harry waving him over with Hermione and Ron also sitting at the table.

Narcissa handed him a pouch of gold, "Remember dear, get your books first, and then you might find a little extra in the bag for a treat."

Draco graciously accepted the money before walking over to his friends, "Hey mates!"

Hermione quickly moved her books off of the spare chair for Draco to sit.

"Merlin, Hermione! How many books did you buy?" Ron commented.

"They were necessary," She defended, "For all the courses I am taking this year."

"But we can only take up to three electives," Ron challenged her, "I'm sure Draco didn't buy that many books!"

"To be fair, mate, I haven't gotten my school supplies yet," Draco countered.

"Anyway…" Hermione drawled, changing the topic, "We were just chatting about our summers. Ron was talking about Egypt, and Harry said he's been staying at the Leaky Cauldron because he ran away from home after blowing up his Aunt!"

"You did what, and can you teach me?" Draco asked, wide-eyed. His question earned him a light smack in the arm from Hermione.

"It's not funny, Draco! Harry could have been expelled!" she admonished.

"I think I was lucky not to have been arrested, Hermione," Harry stated.

"But you weren't, and you didn't get murdered by Sirius Black, so all is well," Ron stated nonchalantly.

"What?" Draco asked in confusion.

Everyone turned to stare at him when Ron spoke up, "You mean you haven't heard? Mate, you're related to him! Haven't you been reading the Prophet?"

Draco grimaced, "Father canceled our subscription after seeing your family won the prize money. He's been doing things like that to punish me for last year."

"What else has he done?" Hermione asked, concerned, "Is that why your owl changed halfway through the summer?"

Draco nodded, "Yes, he locked the family owl up to keep me from sending letters. He also stole my permission slip for Hogsmeade and refused to sign it."

Harry's face dropped, "Oh no, mine didn't get signed either!"

"Well, you still got time…" Ron tried to encourage both of them.

"Maybe McGonagall will make an exception," Draco added hopefully.

"But back on topic… I can't believe you haven't heard anything! It's all anyone can talk about! Sirius Black escaped from Azkaban!" Ron whispered.

"That's impossible. No one has ever escaped…." Draco corrected him.

"No one has… until now. I mean… no one knows where Black is or how he did it. I heard dad whispering to mum the other night that he escaped to… go after Harry," Ron revealed.

"But why would he want to come after me?" Harry asked.

"Dad said it was because he was a faithful follower of… well… You-know-who…." Ron explained. 

"If he was a follower, then he might try and go to my father for help," Draco forewarned, "Good thing he isn't on the Board of Governors anymore."

"We all are going to have to be more careful this year," Hermione interjected, "Gosh, you think we could finally get one normal year where we focused on classes."

Harry laughed, "Only you, Hermione."

"Speaking of, Draco… you need to get your books still, and I…" she held up a bag of gallons, "have some money left over to get myself an early birthday present. I was thinking of buying an owl."

"I was thinking of getting a personal owl as well," Draco added, smiling at the thought of him and Hermione possibly buying sibling familiars. 

"Well, guess we are going to the Magical Menagerie then. Scabbers has been looking ill ever since the trip," Ron pulled out his pet rat that was his family's familiar. The poor creature's fur did look a bit grey, and his whiskers were droopy.

The four left the pub and made their way across the street to the Menagerie. While Ron was having Scabbers inspected, Draco and Hermione were browsing the owl selection, heeding the advice of the shop owner, "Remember, children. A familiar is an extension of yourself. If you do not feel a personal connection to the animal, then they are not yours to take."

Hermione's nose scrunched up as she kept analyzing the owls. The birds were hanging in locked cages of all different colors and kept squawking at the Gryffindors as they walked by.

"None of the owls seem to be catching your eye?" Draco teased her playfully.

She smiled, "Not exactly."

Draco was about to make a retort when his gaze focused on a giant eagle owl in the corner. The animal was light grey with yellow feathers on its stomach and black spots throughout its wings. He walked closer to the cage and made eye contact with the bird, which greeted him in a low, monotonous hoot.

"Hey there! Aren’t you a regal creature," Draco whispered back appreciatively, raising his hand to the cage, "Do you have a name?"

"That bird is actually one of my most recent additions and has yet to be named," the shopkeeper said from behind them, "I see that it has taken a liking to you, Mr. Malfoy. That particular bird is a male Eurasian Eagle Owl. They are very common, but also one of the largest living species of owl alive."

"He's perfect. I'll take him!" Draco replied.

"And you, Miss Granger? Did you see an owl that you felt a connection with?" the shopkeeper asked.

Before Hermione could reply, there was a commotion at the front of the shop. Draco and Hermione rushed back to the counter to just miss Ron and Harry running out the door as if they were chasing after something. The boys departed in such a hurry that Ron left behind the rat tonic prescribed for Scabbers. In their place sat a rather sizeable fluffy ginger cat that was grooming its paws. The poor feline looked ancient with his grumpy face and had matted fur all along its back.

"Oh, Crookshanks… NO!" The shopkeeper yelled.

"Wait! Who is he?" Hermione asked, lightly scratching the cat's ears.

"Oh, you don't want this old beast, Miss Granger. He's been in the shop a long time. Nobody wants this animal," the shopkeeper explained.

"Tell me about him," Hermione suddenly said in a bossy tone.

"Well… I don't know much other than he was a stray found in Godric's Hallow. Also, he's not a pure cat, but half-Kneazle. I'm sure you'll learn all about them this year with Care of Magical Creatures, but they…." Hermione's perfect recall of a passage from a book cut off the shopkeeper.

"…are highly intelligent, independent, and occasionally aggressive. These magical creatures possess an uncanny ability to detect suspicious and distrustful people and make great companions for safeguarding one's home."

“Yes, Miss Granger," the shopkeeper nodded.

"I'll take him," Hermione affirmed, picking up the cat. The familiar was purring loudly in Hermione's arms.

"If you insist, dear," The shopkeeper replied reluctantly. With their familiars purchased, Draco and Hermione walked out of the store to find Harry and Ron.

"You bought that monster?" Ron asked, exasperated, "He attacked Scabbers and me!"

"His name is Crookshanks! And honestly, Ronald, it's a cat. He's just doing what's in his nature," she snapped.

"By the way, you left that on the counter, mate," Draco interrupted, giving Ron the tonic.

Ron took the proffered medicine from Draco before turning to Hermione, "I'm warning you! You keep that bloody cat away from Scabbers! He's ill and…."

"Cool owl, Draco!" Harry chimed in, stopping the feud between Hermione and Ron.

"Thanks! I think Ariel is pretty neat as well. If you and Ron are going back to the Leaky, do you mind watching him while I get my books?" Draco asked.

The boys nodded and said they would see him and Hermione at the pub after they were done in the bookstore. As they were walking down the alley, Hermione raised an eyebrow at Draco, "Ariel?"

"Yes. From the Tempest," Draco explained, "He's a spirit that was bound to serve the magician Prospero. I thought it was a very fitting name given that my family's owl is named Caliban and my mother's owl is named Miranda."

"Wait a second… You've read Shakespeare? Not only that, but your family named their beast after characters in his play?" Hermione stared at her friend in disbelief.

"Yes…" Draco trailed off before chuckling, "Even though he was a Squib, his works are timeless. I mean... Hermione… You do know where your name comes from, right?"

"Of course, I do! It's from a Winter's Tale! But, you're telling me that William Shakespeare… a man revered as possibly the world's greatest writer in the muggle world… was a Squib?"

Draco was biting his lip, trying so hard not to laugh at his best friend. Her face was adorable when she was contemplating something, gorgeous when she smiled at getting an answer correct, but this expression of complete shock and bewilderment was outrageously amusing. He silently promised himself that he would have to stump Hermione more often.

"Yes…" Draco carefully answered, "William Shakespeare came from a magical family, but alas, possessed no magical ability of his own. How do you think he knew how to depict magic in his works accurately?"

"I… well… I thought… he's a dramatist!" She defended incredulously.  

Draco couldn't help it anymore and busted out laughing. Ignoring her annoyed expression, he reached out for her hand and tugged her towards the bookstore, "Come on. I think I know what your next book is going to be in our exchange. One magical autobiography on William Shakespeare coming up."

___________________________

The train was packed, and every compartment was full as the golden quartet searched to find a spot. The only place that had anywhere to sit was with an unknown man sleeping against the window. Hermione sat directly across from the stranger and propped her feet up over Draco's lap, getting comfortable for the ride. She pulled out the autobiography he purchased her (calling it her early birthday present).

"Who do you reckon this is?" Ron whispered to his friends, trying not to wake the man.

"Professor R.J. Lupin," Hermione asserted quietly from over atop the pages of her book. 

"She knows everything! How is it that she knows everything?" Ron asked in disbelief. He took a seat next to Draco.

Draco laughed, "It's on his suitcase, mate."

"Probably our new Defense teacher," Harry mused, being the only one brave enough to sit down next to the man.

The ride north was pretty uneventful after that. Hermione was engrossed in her book while Harry, Ron, and Draco talked about their summers, the upcoming school year, and Sirius Black. The rain was pouring hard against the window when the train gave a sudden jerk, the wheels grinding along until it reached a complete stop on the track.

Hermione sat up, "Why did we stop? We can't be there yet."

Harry got up and opened their door, peering out into the hallway. Everyone else appeared to have the same confused look as the four.

"What's going on?" Ron asked.

"Don't know," Harry replied, "Maybe we've broken down?"

Suddenly, the lights in the cabin started to flicker, and the temperature dropped, evident by Draco being able to see his own breath.

"Look!" Ron pointed to ice forming along the edges of the glass. Hermione whipped her head back around and saw someone board the train. She shivered, aggressively rubbing her arms to try and warm back up, but it was no use against the bone-chilling cold that had settled over the compartment. She leaned back into Draco, who lightly wrapped his arms around her to try and keep her teeth from chattering.

Everyone cried out when the cart gave another jerk. Ron's whimpering progressed. The friends could barely make out his warning, "Somethings… coming…."

Harry jumped up just in time to turn the lock on the door, hoping that it would prevent whatever threat was on the horizon. The four could make out a prominent black figure floating in their direction through the fogged door of their compartment. The unknown creature extended a long boney hand and magically unlocked the door, sliding it open.

Upon sight of the creature, a wraithlike demonic being, Draco felt all the happiness drain from his body. His mind was abruptly unfocused and reeling with memories from his past that brought feelings of sadness, guilt, and regret. His heart twinged with pain as the creature approached them. Draco could see that the monster had no eyes and only a large hole with three rows of teeth for a mouth Inside its hood. Hermione gasped in fright, covering her face in Draco's chest. Instinctively, he ducked his head and hid in her curls, holding Hermione a little bit tighter. He could hear Crookshanks growling at the monster while Ron continued to whimper. Inside his mind, Draco kept begging the creature to go away when Ron muttered out, "H.. Har… Harry?!"

Draco looked up to see the creature was bent over Harry as if it would perform a kiss. The monster then made a horrible, deep rasping noise as it drew in a breath and started to extract something from Harry. Professor Lupin chose that exact moment to wake up and pointed his wand at the creature. A white light blinded the cart and pushed the monster out into the hallway. Draco could barely make out the Professor telling the grim-like creature that no one was hiding Sirius Black as the man continued to corral the monster off the train.

Hermione, Draco, and Ron didn't move for a few minutes until they were startled by the lights coming back on and heat kicking in. Ron moved first and sat Harry up, "I think he passed out."

After a few more moments that seemed to drag on, the train started moving again. Harry slowly woke back up, his eyes rapidly blinking to adjust to the light of the cabin.

"Harry? Are you alright?" Hermione asked, concerned.

"W…What happened?" Harry mumbled, "What was that thing? Who screamed? And why are you two holding each other?"

Draco quickly extracted his arm around Hermione's shoulders as she scooted a little further away from him.

Professor Lupin returned to the cabin and crouched down next to Harry, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine… But what was that thing?" Harry repeated his question.

"That was a dementor, one of the guards of Azkaban searching the train for Sirius Black. But, it's alright. It's gone now. Here…" Lupin offered Harry something, "Eat this. It will help. Not to worry; it's only chocolate."

Once Harry accepted the piece of chocolate, Lupin stood up, "I'm going to have a little word with the driver. Eat. Trust me… you'll feel better."

When Lupin was gone, Harry took a tentative bite. His mood improved significantly, causing him to take a few more aggressively large bites until he completely devoured the sweet.

"Good to see you haven't lost your appetite," Ron joked.

"What exactly happened to me?" Harry asked.

"I'm not sure, mate. You sort of went… rigid, like you were having a fit," Ron described.

"The dementor bent over you, so it made it hard to tell what was happening," Draco offered.

"Did either of you… you know… pass out?" Harry questioned.

"No… but I felt really weird…." Ron trailed off, shuddering at the memory.

"Like all the happiness you've ever felt left your body?" Draco supplied.

"Exactly!" Ron cried out, "I felt like I would never be cheerful again!"

"Same, but then I started to relive my worst memories…." Hermione blinked a few times like she was trying to keep from crying. Crookshanks jumped up into her lap and started to comfort her.

"Who was screaming? It sounded like a woman…." Harry asked again. 

"No one was screaming, Harry," Draco said.

Harry looked confused as if trying to figure out a complicated problem.

"We should change into our robes," Hermione softly stated, getting up to grab her uniform. The boys followed suit.

Within ten minutes, the four were departing the train and hurrying to climb into a carriage to avoid the rain. Everyone was still shaken up after the dementor attack and didn't say a word until they were in the Great Hall.

"Miss Granger, a word if you will?" Professor McGonagall cornered their group to pull Hermione aside.

"I'll see you at the feast," She reassured them, following their head of house up the staircase.

"What do you suppose that is all about?" Ron asked.

Draco shrugged his shoulders. Just like last year, everyone gathered around their house tables and waited patiently for the first years to come walking into the hall to be sorted. Since Professor McGonagall was talking to Hermione, their Charms instructor, Professor Flitwick, commenced the ceremony. While it was a little amusing to watch the four-foot professor having to levitate the Sorting Hat onto each student's head as they sat on the stool, the rite itself still had not improved and was boring for a spectator to watch. When they finally got through all the students, Hermione slid next to Draco just in time to see the frog choir give a beginning of the term performance, also conducted by Flitwick.

"Oh darn, I can't believe I missed the sorting," She whispered to Draco.

"You didn't miss much, love," Draco whispered back, "What did McGonagall want?"

"She just wanted to discuss my class schedule," Hermione replied, a little more defensive than usual. Draco stiffened a bit at her tone, which Hermione noticed and clarified, "I'm just taking a lot more courses than the average third year. She just wanted to check in with me and reiterate that even with the heavy course load, I am still expected to attend all my classes."

Draco nodded in acceptance of the explanation when the choir's song ended. Everyone was clapping up until Dumbledore took to the podium, "Welcome! Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! Now, I would like to say a few words before we all become too befuddled by our excellent feast. Firstly, let us give a warm welcome to our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Mr. Remus J. Lupin."

The room burst into applause as Lupin took a bow from the teacher's table.

"Of course, that's why he gave you the chocolate, Harry," Hermione commented.

"Looks like we actually have a professor that knows what he's doing," Draco stated, getting an acknowledgment from Ron.

As the clapping was dying down, Harry, Ron, Draco, and Hermione turned their heads towards the Slytherin table, where Theo Nott was trying to get their attention.

"Is it true? Did you faint? I mean, you actually fainted?" Nott mockingly whispered. Draco rolled his eyes.

Goyle was doing a dramatic impersonation when Ron aggressively turned Harry back around, "Shut your mouth, Nott."

"How did he find out?" Harry whispered to his friends.

"Just ignore him," Hermione said as Dumbledore continued his opening remarks.

"I am sad to say our long-time Care of Magical Creatures instructor, Professor Kettleburn, has decided to retire in order to spend time with his remaining relatives. However, I am delighted to announce that our own, Rubeus Hagrid, has accepted the position. Good Luck to our new professors!"

Applause rang out in the hall again as Hagrid stood up upon being introduced. Hermione, Ron, Harry, and Draco were cheering and whistling encouragement at their friend for the promotion.

Dumbledore raised his hand a final time to calm the room, "Finally, at the request of the Ministry, Hogwarts will, until further notice, play host to the dementors of Azkaban until such a time as Sirius Black is captured. The dementors will be stationed at every entrance to the grounds. Now, whilst I've been assured that their presence will not disrupt our day-to-day activities… a word of caution. Dementors are vicious creatures. They will not distinguish between the one they hunt and the one who gets in their way. Therefore, I must warn each of you to give them no reason to harm you. It is not in the nature of a dementor to be forgiving. But you know, happiness can be found even in the darkest of times if one only remembers to turn on the light."

Chapter Text

Despite Dumbledore’s warning, the school year started as normal as a magical boarding school could be. Ron brought many souvenirs back from Egypt, including a wide variety of magical candy that the third-year Gryffindor boys had no qualms about indulging in. However, by the end of the first week of classes, Draco noticed something was off with Hermione. Already, she seemed more stressed than usual and ran late to every class, meal, and study session. He had tried to ask Harry and Ron about it, but the boys just shrugged their shoulders and chalked up the weird behavior to Hermione’s course load. Even though Draco could see the logic behind his friends’ conclusions about Hermione’s bizarre behavior, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more going on with his best friend that she simply wasn’t divulging. Harry, Ron, and Draco were making their way up to the North Tower for Divination when Draco noticed Hermione was, once again, not with them.

“Have you guys seen Hermione?” Draco asked.

Harry shook his head when Ron piped up, “Mate, you need to stop worrying about her. She’ll be along soon.”

Taking a deep breath, Draco decided to follow Ron’s advice and continued up the ladder into the attic-like classroom where Divination was taught. He took a seat at one of the round tables by himself when a woman with large spectacles and thin frizzy hair started speaking.

“Welcome, children. I am Professor Trelawney. In this room, you shall explore the noble art of Divination. You shall discover if you possess the Sight… Ah! You, my dear girl… I recognized your Gift as soon as you entered the castle.”

Padma Patil giggled, blushing at the compliment, “Thank you, Professor.”

Professor Trelawney nodded to the Ravenclaw before readdressing the room, “Without a certain… proclivity for this difficult magical art… I am afraid there is not much that I nor a book can teach you. But have no fear. For together, we shall cast ourselves into the future!”

“What a load of rubbish,” Hermione whispered to Draco.

He did a double-take, “When did you get here?”

“Me? Been here all this time,” Hermione retorted quietly.

“No, you most certainly have not,” Draco murmured irritably. Why was Hermione lying to him?

Hermione’s mouth formed a thin line as she refused to answer him, turning her attention back to Trelawney.

“We will spend this term covering the basics, even though one of you will leave us forever by the end… For now, we will focus on Tesseomancy, the art of reading tea leaves. You, my dear girl, please hand me that kettle behind you?”

Lavender Brown did as instructed and carefully handed the clay kettle to the Professor.

“Thank you, oh, and the thing you have been dreading will happen in mid-October,” Trelawney casually mentioned.

Draco watched as poor Lavender shuffled back to her seat like she had seen a ghost. The girl was clearly not taking the premonition well.

“Now, all of you grab a cup from the back wall. When you return to your tables, pour yourselves a generous amount of tea from the kettles and begin to take contemplative sips. You, dear…” Trelawney pointed at Neville.

“Yes…” Neville said tentatively.

“Is your grandmother well?” Trelawney asked abruptly, her whimsical tone immediately changing to that of a sense of urgency.

“I… think so…” Neville replied, stuttering in shock.

“Hmm… Maybe rethink that… oh, and dear, do be mindful of grabbing only the blue cups from the back wall. If some of them must break, then I would prefer it be those.”

Everyone moved as if in a state of panic to try and avoid the Professor’s mini prophecies. Draco quickly got up and retrieved two cups, one for him and one for Hermione. When the tea was finished, they left their cups on their saucers and pulled out their textbook, Unfogging the Future, to start reading the predictions.

“Oh, no, no, dears. Please… take the cup of the person sitting opposite of you,” she ordered them. Hermione and Draco exchanged teacups and started looking for interpretations.

“The truth lies buried like a sentence deep within a book. But first, you must broaden your mind in order to read it. My dear boy… I am sensing you come from a line of talent yourself. Tell me… What do you see?”

Draco cleared his throat, “Well, Hermione has what looks like a bouquet… here, which means… good friends and happy love life. Over here… It looks like she has a crown which means success and honor. And lastly… I see she has a ring that, obviously, symbolizes marriage. So, no surprise, Hermione’s future is very bright.”

“Hmm… If I may….” Trelawney took the teacup out of Draco’s hand, “Ah, well done. Except you missed something by the ring. A distinct letter ‘D’ is just here... you see... which symbolizes either a first or last initial of whom she is to marry. Now, you try, dear.”

Before Hermione could speak, Seamus Finnigan started snickering, “Ooooooooo! Hermione’s going to marry, Draco!”

Draco paled and his stomach started to churn with embarrassment as Seamus and Dean Thomas started chanting, “Draco and Hermione, sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N…”

Draco slapped his hand hard on the table, the impact shaking the glassware as he turned around to sneer at the boys, “I will literally throw both of you off the astronomy tower if you don’t shut it!”

“Now, now. No need for violence. Let’s move on, shall we?” Trelawney said in a half-hearted attempt to reign the children back into the lesson. While she was trying to calm the class, Draco couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander back to the leaves sitting in the teacup still in his hand. It wasn’t so much that Draco didn’t like Hermione. She was, after all, his best friend. It was the simple fact that he didn’t know if his feelings were… romantic, per se.  Not once had he given a single thought about who his future spouse would be. He was only thirteen for Godric’s sake! Then there was the fact that he had little to no evidence to suggest Hermione’s feelings were more profound than the leaves suggested. Coupled with the fact that he came from a long line of blood supremacists on both sides of his family who would never approve of him dating her, never mind marry her! There was a higher probability that Draco would cross the Styx before any possibility of Hermione marrying him could come to fruition. If anything, the reading was making himself second guess the amount of faith he put into Divination. Eventually, he looked up from the teacup to find Hermione’s face was unreadable. While her cheeks were flushed red, most likely with embarrassment, her eyes were sharp as if analyzing his reaction. He knew she would never judge him, but being under the piercing stare of her chocolate eyes caused Draco to feel guilty for giving in to his temper so quickly. Whatever daze she appeared to be in quickly stopped as Hermione held up his teacup and began her interpretation.

 “Well… Draco’s cup appears to have clouds here, which means serious troubles. There are many wavy lines throughout the base of the cup, which, according to this… lines, symbolize a journey, but wavy lines mean a difficult journey.”

“Excellent. Give me the cup….” Trelawny said. The Professor inspected the cup for a moment before tsking, “While what you saw is accurate, my dear, it is also inaccurate. See here. This is a pear which means wealth and high social status. And there is a marriage ring as well! How interesting…”

“What is it?” Draco asked impatiently.

“Inside the ring is the initial ‘G’! Oh, how peculiar,” Trelawny set the cup down and walked away to inspect other tables.

Draco reached across the table and inspected the contents, looking for what Trelawny had just described. Even though he could read Hermione’s cup clearly, all he saw was brown goop for his own prediction. He was trying to remember something his mother said about the art when Hermione whispered to him, “Don’t overthink it, Draco. Divination isn’t as precise as other branches of magic.”

“Oh… right. I forgot for a moment that you are a skeptic,” Draco joked quietly.

Hermione was about to retort when the Professor outrageously cried out. Draco looked over to see she was at Harry and Ron’s table, dramatically panting and clutching her chest in fright while Ron was shaking in his chair when she finally revealed, “My dear… You have… the grim!”

Harry’s eyes got wide with fright as Seamus shouted, “What’s the grin?”

“Not grin, you idiot! Grim. The grim usually takes the form of a giant spectral dog and is one of the darkest omens in our world. It symbolizes death….” Padma read aloud. Everyone gasped, turning their attention onto Harry as the boy-who-lived stared into the tea leaves with shock.

__________________________

Lunch couldn’t have come soon enough. It seemed everyone in the quartet wanted to escape the revelations of the Divination classroom. Ron was the only one who seemed excited, and it was all because they had Hagrid’s class taking place on the grounds right after.

Draco noticed that Harry was picking at his food when he finally asked, “Are you okay?”

“Not really,” Harry revealed, “I saw a black dog when I ran away from home before the term started.”

“It’s a sign! You don’t think that grim thing’s got anything to do with Sirius Black?” Ron asked.

Draco gave the redhead an incredulous look when Hermione cut in, “Oh honestly, Ronald. McGonagall even said herself that Trelawney’s favorite way to greet her new class is with death omens. And the dog was just a stray, Harry. If you ask me, Divination’s a woolly discipline. Now, Arithmancy, that’s a fascinating subject.”

“Can’t argue there. I’m only taking Divination because of my mother,” Draco added.

“Hang on… How are you taking Arithmancy? It’s at the same time as Divination. You have to be in two classes at once,” Ron questioned.

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Hermione said defensively, getting up from the bench, “How could anyone be in two classes at once?”

Ron raised his eyebrow at Hermione before turning to look at Draco. The blond had a vindicated look on his face, causing Ron to silently acknowledge something weird was going on with Hermione and her classes this term.

Hermione meandered out of the Great Hall to escape any more questions. There was still some time before she had to head down to Hagrid’s, allowing her to stop at one of the benches outside the hall to catch her breath. Her mind was reeling about the prediction, but more so about the way Draco had reacted when Seamus and Dean started to tease him! True, it was very unsporting of the boys to call them out in the middle of class like that (even though there was nothing romantic going on), but had Draco needed to get so angry? She was just as embarrassed, if not more so, then he was! And what do all these emotions mean? How does one feel both embarrassed but angry at the implication she could be more than friends with her best friend? Was that even possible? Did she even want that to happen?

Fact one, she did have a crush on Draco last year which was not reciprocated. Fact two, Draco does not have romantic feelings for her. He said so while they were in front of the fireplace after the celebratory feast at the end of their second year. Fact three, Draco is her best friend and not her boyfriend. They didn’t hold hands in the hallways between classes or go on dates during the weekend. He doesn’t buy her flowers or kiss her on the cheek when he sees her. He did call her love, but it was just a nickname… not a pet name.  Hermione knew there was a distinct difference between the two. At this point, she was so beyond confused she didn’t know what to think or how to feel, and it was all thanks to those stupid tea leaves!

As the entrance hall began to fill with students scampering off to their next lesson, Hermione noticed that Daphne Greengrass had stopped Draco on his way out of the Great Hall. Though she couldn’t hear what they were discussing, the two appeared to be engaged in a light and playful conversation. Draco was smiling, and Daphne was laughing at something he said. Hermione felt a twinge of envy when her heart suddenly dropped. Daphne familiarly touched Draco’s arm before departing to her next class. Just how close had they gotten when Hermione was petrified? The gesture made her think back to what Draco’s reading revealed. Serious troubles, arduous journey, and… marriage. Except Draco’s initial wasn’t an H. It was a G. As in Greengrass, not Granger.

Gone was the confusion and in its place was an overwhelming bitterness that left a sour feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was like she had eaten every horrid flavor of Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans and it was only a matter of time before she was sick.

“Hermione? Ready to go?” Ron asked.

Hermione crossed her arms and glared at the boys, “Stop dilly dallying! We shouldn’t be late to Hagrid’s class!”

The boys looked at one another in disbelief as they watched Hermione take off to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Their shock was only temporary, as they eventually followed down the steep path. Draco quickened his stride to catch up to Hermione, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. Nothing to worry about,” Hermione lied.

“That’s not true… somethings off,” Draco challenged.

“It’s nothing. Really, I…”

“Hermione. Please, tell me what’s wrong,” Draco pleaded in a firm tone.

She huffed, “There’s nothing to talk about, Draco!”

“Fine,” Draco conceded, “Be that way.”

Hermione was only momentarily taken aback by her friend’s anger. Any argument that might have taken place was halted as Hagrid called the class to order.

“Alright! Gather ’round. Got a real treat for yeh today! Great Lesson! Follow me!” the half-giant projected, his heavy steps leading the children to a grove just a little way past the forest tree line. “Right, open yeh books ter page 49!”

“And how exactly do we do that?” Theo Nott asked sarcastically.

“Jus’ stroke the spine, O’ course,” Hagrid replied, annoyed. He clearly thought the answer to the question was a bit obvious.

Ron started chuckling when he saw Neville being attacked by his book, the poor soul failing to stroke the spine in time to calm it. As everyone gathered in a semi-circle in the grove, Draco looked down at the text and started reading the page.

Hippogriff

A magical hybrid beast with the head, wings, and front legs of an eagle and the body, hind legs, and tail of a horse. Although related to a Griffin, whose rear and body resemble a lion, these creatures are far from similar. First discovered by…

“I think they’re funny,” Hermione whispered to her friends. Harry gave her a chuckle, and Draco just nodded his head. He hadn’t totally forgiven Hermione for lying to him before class, the strain in their relationship evident on both their faces. Harry noticed the tension between his friends and was about to ask what happened when he became distracted by a cruel laugh.

“Oh, terribly funny. Really witty,” Theo mocked them, “What’s the matter with you two? Trouble in paradise with your mud….”

“Shut your mouth, Nott!” Draco spat, throwing his book on the ground. He was about to lunge at Theo when Hermione stepped in front of him.

“He’s not worth it, Draco. Just ignore him.”

Ron pulled all of them away from Theo before he turned back to make a face at the Slytherin just in time for Hagrid to come back and clear his throat. With a bit of fanfare, the half-giant introduced a beast a few yards away. Draco blinked for a few seconds before realizing that standing in front of him was the same creature depicted in his textbook, complete with a beak, talons, and stormy grey feathers.

“Isn’t he beautiful? Alright yeh, lot… say hello ter Buckbeak!” Hagrid threw a treat at the beast, who caught the dead animal in its mouth.

“Hagrid! What exactly is that?!” Ron yelled.

“That, Ron, is a Hippogriff. The first thing yeh wanna know about Hippogriffs is they’re very proud creatures. Very easily offended. Yeh do not want to insult a Hippogriff. It may just be the last thing yeh ever do… Now, who’d like ter come and say hello?” Hagrid posed the question to the class. 

Draco noticed that all the students, except for Harry, took a collective step backward, away from Hagrid and the beast, indicating their answer. When Hagrid turned around to see who volunteered, he immediately congratulated Harry. 

The dark-haired wizard looked around confused before glaring at Ron, Draco, and Hermione. As Hagrid was giving some more information about the Hippogriff, Draco stepped up behind Harry and gave him a little push before he whispered, “Don’t be scared, Potter.”

“You wish, Malfoy,” Harry tersely replied, walking a little closer.

“…So, step up! Give him a nice bow. Then yeh wait and see if he bows back. If he does, then go on up and touch him. If not… Well, we’ll get ter that later,” Hagrid explained.

Draco felt like he was holding his breath as Harry conducted the bow per Hagrid’s instruction on Hippogriff etiquette. The beast started to crow and aggressively flapped his feathers at the boy-who-lived. To his right, Draco heard Hermione gasp before feeling her grab hold of his shirt sleeve.

Hagrid frantically waved Harry away from Buckbeak, telling the young Gryffindor to back off a bit and then remain steady in the bow. After a few seconds, which felt like hours under the anticipation, the Hippogriff returned the gesture.

Hagrid motioned for Harry to come out of the bow, “Well done, Harry. Well done. And… eh not so bad yeh self yeh old brute.”

After Hagrid threw another dead animal at Buckbeak to munch on, the half-giant then turned to Harry and encouraged him to step up and pet the Hippogriff’s feathers. Harry took tentative steps towards Buckbeak with his right raise raised out in front of him. When Harry was almost close enough to touch the Hippogriff, the creature started to snap its beak at him. Hermione gasped again, and her hand instinctively reached for Draco’s wrist. She was breathing heavily, fright evident in her eyes as she watched the scene play out before the class. Extending a temporary peace offering from their earlier dispute, Draco shook her grasp loose and held her hand, giving it a light squeeze of comfort at the same time Harry began petting Buckbeak. He felt her return the gesture, squeezing his hand tightly. 

Hagrid suddenly sighed in relief and started to clap loudly, “Well done, Harry! Well done.”

The rest of the class followed suit, clapping for the successful interaction when Zacharias Smith sarcastically spoke up, “Does he get to fly, now?”

“Oh, I think he may let you ride him,” Hagrid said, walking over to pick up Harry.

“Hagrid! Put me down!” Harry pleaded, struggling against his hold.

“There now. Just behind the wing joint. Now, don’t pull out any of his feathers. He won’t thank yeh for that.”

Before Harry could protest, Hagrid slapped the Hippogriff on its behind, causing the creature to take off into a run before taking flight up into the sky. Hermione, Draco, and Ron (along with others in the class) cried out in amazement as they ran after Harry. It was unbelievable!

Harry’s flight only took about three minutes before Hagrid whistled for Buckbeak to circle back to the grove. Everyone was cheering and clapping, minus the Slytherins, for the dark-haired wizard as he descended. 

“Well done, Harry! And well done, Buckbeak!” Hagrid’s voice boomed with pride. The two friends shared a private moment before Hagrid called out to the rest of the class, “Now, who else wants a try?”

Emboldened by Harry’s success, most of the class stepped up and introduced themselves to Buckbeak. Theo, Zacharias, Crabbe, and Goyle all hung back and refused to participate in the lesson. When class was over, Hagrid invited the quartet back to his hut sometime during the coming weekend to chat and get feedback about the first lesson. Before running off to their next subject, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco each took turns hugging Hagrid and congratulating him on a job well done.

“See you next class, Professor,” Harry called out as the four left the grove.

____________________

A few days later, the quartet was sitting in the Great Hall at lunch when they overheard Theo talking to Blaise and Zacharias, “This place has really gone to the dogs. No way am I staying in that stupid class.”

“It’s not like it’s useful,” Zacharias agreed.

“What are they on about?” Ron quietly asked Harry, Draco, and Hermione. After the notorious Hippogriff lesson, Hagrid’s class quickly became a favorite among the students, much to the delight of the quartet that their friend was succeeding in his new role.

“I heard that Theo and Zacharias dropped Care of Magical Creatures. They tried having their parents complain to the Board of Governors, claiming that the class was too dangerous, and Hagrid should be fired,” Hermione revealed.

“What?” Harry said crossly.

“It’s okay, Harry. The complaint didn’t go anywhere because no one has been seriously injured,” Hermione explained.

Draco said another silent prayer of gratitude that his father was no longer on the board when Ron snorted, “Good. No one wants them there anyway.”

Hermione playfully rolled her eyes, “The joke’s on them. The only other class they could have taken at that time was Muggle Studies.”

The four were gleefully laughing when Seamus came running over to the Gryffindor table, throwing down a copy of the Daily Prophet in front of Neville and Dean, “He’s been sighted! He’s been sighted!”

“Who?” Dean asked.

“Sirius Black!” Seamus shouted excitedly.

Hermione leaned over the bench to read the article upside down. When she saw the location, she gasped, “Dufftown? That’s not far from here!”

“You… you don’t think he could come to Hogwarts, do you?” Neville stuttered.

“With those dementors at every entrance?” Dean added.

“He’s already slipped past them once. Who’s to say he won’t do it again?” Seamus affirmed.

“You’re not wrong, mate. Black could be anywhere. It’s like trying to catch smoke….” Ron shuddered, adding to the horrifying news.

Draco noticed that Harry appeared to be in a state of shock, staring at the moving picture of Black’s previous arrest portrait on the newspaper’s front cover. The blond gently tapped his friend’s shoulder, “Hey, don’t think about it. Let’s get to DADA.”

__________________________

When they arrived at Defense Against the Dark Arts, all the desks were pushed to the side, leaving ample open space in the center of the room. Towards the front of the class was a mahogany wardrobe that was occasionally shaking, which caused some students to jump.

“No need to be frightened. Today, we are going to be conducting a practical lesson. Go ahead and leave your bags up against the wall and come gather in the center of the room,” Professor Lupin announced from behind the wardrobe.

The students silently did as they were bid and waited in anticipation of the lesson while Lupin walked around the group, surveying the students. Draco didn’t get a great look at Lupin when they shared a compartment on the train, but in the well-lit classroom, he could see that the man looked tired as his eyes were droopy and his reflexes slightly slowed. His robes were patched in various places, as well as dingy and somewhat unkempt. However, the most noticeable feature was the large, jagged scar that ran from his right temple diagonally across his face. It was intimidating enough that it could give Harry’s lightning bolt scar a run for his galleons.

“Intriguing, isn’t it?” the Professor paused for effect before continuing, “Inside is a boggart. This particular one tried to take up residence in the staff room, and Dumbledore kindly let me keep it for the purposes of our lesson. Would anyone like to explain what a boggart is or what it looks like?”

“Boggarts are shapeshifters. No one knows what it looks like because it takes the form of the thing the person fears the most. That’s what makes them so…” Hermione called out when Lupin cut her off.

“So terrifying. Yes. Well done, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor,” Lupin paced some more before going on, “Luckily, an effortless charm exists to repel a boggart, but it also requires a deal of concentration. Let’s practice it now, without wands, please. Repeat after me. Riddikulus!”

The entire class repeated the phrase a few more times before Lupin called Neville to come to stand next to him, “As I said previously, the charm itself is not enough. What really finishes a boggart is laughter. You need to force it to assume a shape you find genuinely amusing. This is why Neville here is going to help me with a demonstration. Now, Neville, I want to think very hard about what frightens you most of all?

Neville muttered, “Professor Snape.”

Lupin laughed, “Professor Snape! Yes, he frightens all of us. If memory serves, you live with your grandmother?”

“Yes, but I don’t want the boggart to turn into her either!” Neville said frantically, the class chuckling at the response.

“No, no. You misunderstand me. What I would like you to do, Neville is picture her clothes. Only her clothes, in your mind. Do you have a clear image? Good. Now, listen very carefully,” Lupin leaned down to whisper in Neville’s ear so that no one could hear the private instruction. He then pulled back, asking if Neville understood, and raised his wand to unlock the wardrobe.

“Wand at the ready, Neville. You can do this,” Lupin encouraged from behind the Gryffindor. The wardrobe nob turned, and the door slowly pushed open. A perfect replica of Professor Snape walked menacingly towards Neville, complete with the Potions master’s disapproving scowl. Neville hesitated for only a few seconds before pointing his wand and shouting the incantation at the boggart. The spell transformed Snape’s signature black robes into a woman’s emerald, green dress suit. The boggart toddled backward in heels, clutching a red handbag and waring an absurd pointed hat with a stuffed falcon wrapped along the brim.

The room burst into laughter at the hilarious sight. Lupin congratulated Neville on his conquest before the Professor walked over and turned on a phonograph, “Well done, Neville! Everybody, form a line. I want each of you to picture the thing they fear the very most and turn it into something funny!”

Ron stepped up first, ready to face the challenge. The boggart immediately shifted into a giant black widow spider. Ron only whimpered for a moment before he pulled out his wand and recited the spell. The class laughed in unison when they saw the spider struggling to stay upright with roller skates on its legs. Harry, Draco, and Hermione each gave Ron a high five as the redhead made his way to the back of the line.

One by one, the students took turns facing the boggart. Parvati Patil’s transformed into a mummy, which unraveled before everyone’s eyes. Seamus’s turned into a banshee, and then Susan Bones’s turned into a giant snake. After a few more rounds, it was Hermione’s turn next. The boggart only took a few seconds before it morphed into Professor McGonagall. The Gryffindor head of house had her usual stern look but held a piece of parchment out towards Hermione. While the sight itself was not frightening, the words hatefully spewed from the McGonagall look-alike made several in the classroom gasp in shock.

“Troll! All of them! You failed every single one of your classes! What do you have to say for yourself, Miss Granger?”

Hermione stood there petrified as her body betrayed her will to have it move. It honestly reminded her of what it felt like after the Basilisk attack. Never in her wildest nightmares did she imagine this was going to happen. She had prepared herself to see the snow and in turn was going to envision it into a mound of glitter to Riddikulus it away. This Boggart left her breathless as her eyes swelled with tears the more McGonagall spoke to her. Hermione’s breathing began to echo around the room as her body hyperventilated from the Boggart McGonagall’s words.

 “Nothing?! Well, I supposed I have no choice but to EXPEL you! Ministry officials will be by shortly to snap your wand and obliviate your memories. Oh, do stop your crying. It’s not like you belonged here anyway. You’re nothing but a filthy, little mud….”

“Riddikulus,” Draco shouted, stepping in front of Hermione. Though the spell burned the paper in the boggart’s hand, there was not enough thought behind his action to cause any laughter to banish the shapeshifter. Instead, it started to morph, turning into a replica of Lucius Malfoy sneering at Draco.

“You are such a disappointment! I am ashamed to call you my son. You do not represent the most ancient and noble House of Malfoy!” The Lucius boggart pulled his hidden wand from the walking stick with a silver viper head and pointed it at Draco, “If the mudblood is what you choose, then I would rather the line ended than have any son of mine end up a blood traitor. Avad…”

“No!” Lupin jumped in front of the children, stopping the boggart’s attack. It then shifted into an image of a full moon. The Professor quickly waved his wand and cast the spell, turning the boggart into a balloon and locking it back into the wardrobe.

Hermione was still hyperventilating from the encounter, thick tears streaming down her cheeks. With dull eyes Hermione watched Draco battle his own version of the boggart and even though some part of her wished she could help him, the overwhelming majority of her couldn’t get herself to pull together. As her breathing continued to be erratic, Hermione’s vision began to swim and her mind began to become blissfully blank. Thankfully, Draco abruptly shook himself out of his own shock and started to apply pressure to Hermione’s wrist, “Breathe, Love. That’s it. It’s gone now.”

Encircling his arms around her in a tight embrace, the pressure helped ground her back to reality. As her breathing evened out, Hermione nuzzled her face into Draco’s chest while Lupin dismissed the class. Slowly, but surely, Hermione’s racing thoughts began to slow and her breathing returned to normal. Tentatively, she raised her head up and looked at Draco.

The blond wizard’s eyes were full of compassion as he gave her a soft smile, moving some curls out of her face, “Hey, welcome back.”

“How are you feeling, Hermione?” Lupin asked, holding out pieces of chocolate to the students, “Draco, are you alright as well?”

Draco nodded his head, munching on the chocolate. Hermione kept her eyes trained on the floor as she swallowed her piece. The room fell into an awkward silence as Hermione tried to fight the urge to immediately bolt from the classroom and lock herself into a small, dark closet. The incident was humiliating, to say the least, but she was mostly disappointed in her inability to cope. Realizing that the Professor and Draco were waiting on a response from her, Hermione nodded her head.

“I’m fine Professor Lupin.” She quickly glanced at his face before looking towards the doorway where all the students had already left through. “It won’t happen again. I’m sorry,” she said abruptly as she headed to her desk to collect her bag. Noticing it was gone she looked towards the door again. “I’m going to head to my next class now sir, if that’s alright,” she informed him, gripping her hands firmly together to keep herself grounded.

Remus Lupin watched the girl struggle with her emotions as she tried to talk to him about what just happened. Breathing out a sigh, he knew with all of his years of experience it was better to not push at the beginning and instead take what he could get. “Of course. I will see you next class and don’t worry about this one, my dear.” He watched her rush out of the room as soon as he was done talking. He then turned to address Draco, “That was very brave of you, stepping in front of the boggart like that. Not many people would willingly face their fears to save their friend.”

“Hermione is my best friend. I would do anything for her,” Draco asserted.

Lupin kindly smiled at him, “20 points to Gryffindor for your exhibit of true courage. Now, off you go to your next lesson.”

Draco felt like two heavy stones had been removed from his chest as he rushed out of the Defense classroom. Harry and Ron were waiting outside with Hermione when he found his friends further down the corridor. Draco noticed that Harry had been the one to pick up Hermione’s bag, and was immensely grateful in that moment for Harry’s quick thinking and compassion. The two boys checked to make sure Hermione and Draco were alright after the boggart attack before leaving to attend their next class. After Ron and Harry left, Hermione started to shift her weight from side to side, as if she was trying to make up her mind about something. He suddenly felt Hermione grab his wrist and pulled him into an abandoned classroom.

“Hermione,” Draco stumbled, “What’s going on?”

Setting her book bag down, she turned to face Draco with a determined look in her eyes, “I need to explain what happened.”

“No… you don’t….”

“Yes, Draco, I do,” Taking a deep breath, Hermione gathered her thoughts, “When I was seven, my parents took me skiing in the French Alps for the first time. I was… there was an accident….”

“Breathe… just breathe,” Draco said, trying to calm her, “You don’t have to go on, Hermione.”

She ignored him, “I was in a beginner’s class with six other kids. As you can probably imagine, I wasn’t very athletic and struggled to even stay upright on the skis. One of the girls kept making fun of me and said some… cruel things to me when the instructor wasn’t paying attention.”

“Sorry, love, but I’m not sure I understand what skiing is,” Draco interrupted her.

“Oh, right. It’s a muggle sport with two poles and two long narrow boards that you stand on to slide down a mountain covered in snow. Does that sort of help? It’s a little difficult to explain without having a picture.”

“I think I understand. So, you were in a class teaching you how to… slide down the mountain?” Draco prompted her.

“Yes, we were only supposed to stay on certain trails, but this girl challenged me to follow her down this more advanced slope. I was so stupid and followed her….”

“What happened next, Hermione?” Draco calmly asked.

“I lost control, both of my balance and my magic. She kept taunting me the further down the mountain she went, and I just… remember sitting up and thinking… It was so horrible! The snow engulfed her! It came to life like an ocean wave and toppled over her. When my parents and the instructor found me sometime later, I lied and said an avalanche forced her to get stuck in the snowbank. It took them an hour to dig her out,” Hermione’s tears returned with a vengeance. She wiped at them furiously with her sleeve for a moment before she finished the story. “She didn’t die if that’s what you were wondering, but she was close. I later found out she was in a coma for three days and treated for severe frostbite, which only took a couple of her toes, but still!”

“Hermione…” Draco hugged her again, trying to soothe her. He couldn’t imagine having to grow up without knowing magic and having to live in uncertainty when something bizarre or unexplainable happened. He was starting to understand a little better why his best friend worked so hard at her school work yet struggled with the mechanics of intuitive magic because her greatest fear wasn’t just failing and being expelled. She was afraid of losing control of her magic and hurting someone. “It wasn’t your fault. You had a fit of accidental magic. It happens to all of us.”

“But none of them were violent and almost killed someone! Aside from this summer with his Aunt, Harry just made glass disappear. Ron multiplied sweets. Merlin, even you just used it to conjure books from the top shelf!” Hermione exclaimed, “Even when I didn’t understand that the magic was manifesting inside me, I still felt like I was different… or special. But that day, I’ve never been so scared of the kind of power I was capable of until I lost control of it.”

Draco was silent for a moment before he asked, “Did the panic attacks start after?”

Hermione nodded, “They did, on and off. Mostly at night. I saw a counselor for a while and learned some methods of controlling them. The day Professor McGonagall showed up at my home with my Hogwarts acceptance letter was the first time I felt relief in four years. It was like everything made sense when she said I was a witch, and it was my magic that caused the accident. But even though I gained the clarity to understand what happened that day on the slope, it didn’t completely absolve me of the trauma.”

Pulling out of the hug, Draco carefully placed both of his hands on either side of her face, forcing Hermione to look at him, “Love, you need to stop feeling so guilty. It’s in the past. Knowing what you know now doesn’t change anything. The only thing you can do is to learn from it and keep moving forward.”

They stared at one another in silence for a long while. Hermione felt at peace with how gentle his touch was against her face and was mesmerized by his caring grey eyes. They were almost calling to her like a siren coaxing her to drown in the silver-blue sea. However, the moment was short-lived when Hermione snapped out of her daydream and brought herself back to the present, “Draco… About your boggart….”

Draco shook his head, gently releasing her face, “Not today, Hermione. Come on, Love. If we hurry, we can catch dinner before Astronomy.”

She nodded, placing a hand on his arm in understanding. Reaching for her bag, she said, “Please don’t tell Harry or Ron. I… I’m just not ready for them to know yet.”

Draco made a show to lock his mouth and throw away a pretend key, “Nothing is getting out of there! But, seriously, Hermione. Thank you for confiding in me.”

Chapter Text

As the end of October quickly approached, Draco felt like the term was going by faster than in previous years. But it wasn’t the epic Samhain feast that had all the third years chatting like a herd of Diricawls. No, this year, the Saturday before Halloween would be the first Hogsmeade weekend of the school year. Harry and Draco sat nervously in their seats as they waited for McGonagall’s lesson to end. Now, being the Wednesday before the scheduled trip, they were out of time to obtain consent from their guardians and hoped to approach their Head of House to beg for an exception. When the bell rang, McGonagall started to collect the forms before reminding the students of the type of etiquette expected of them in the village. When all in the class had cleared out, Harry and Draco approached McGonagall’s desk cautiously.

“Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy. What can I do for you?” McGonagall asked briskly.

“Professor… I… er… we were wondering….” Harry started, looking over at Draco to pick up.

“It seems that there was an oversight with our permission forms. Harry’s guardians forgot to sign his… what with them being muggles and not understanding wizarding forms. And, my father seemed to misplace mine prior to me getting on the train. We were hoping you would make an exception….”

McGonagall’s piercing stare from over the top of her glasses seemed to stop Draco in his artful explanation, “How peculiar, Mr. Malfoy, for your mother owled your permission slip to me this morning.”

Draco blanched, “She… What?”

“Indeed. But, should your behavior reflect poorly on the school, then I will be forced to take that privilege away,” she turned to address Harry, “No permission form signed, no exception.” 

“But, Professor, what if you signed the form….” Harry tried to ask but stopped when McGonagall shook her head.

“Only a parent or a guardian can sign. Since I am neither, it would be inappropriate. I’m sorry, Potter, but that’s my final word.”

The boys walked out of the classroom together, Harry’s steps heavy with defeat. When they told Ron and Hermione what happened, the redhead had quite a few unkind choice words for the Professor, which caused Hermione to chastise him for his language. No amount of comfort or support the friends gave Harry helped to lift his spirits. When the weekend came, Harry would be staying behind while Ron, Hermione, and now Draco got to explore the only completely magical village in Great Britain.

_______________________

It was hard for Draco to feel excited as he walked side by side with Hermione and Ron on the path to Hogsmeade. He was conflicted about being happy to do something fun with his friends but guilty at leaving Harry behind. Draco was grateful that Harry didn’t take the situation personally and even encouraged those students who were going to have a good time. However, though Harry didn’t express any disdain or ill-will outwardly, Draco could tell that Harry felt upset and lonely. Even the several promises to bring back bags of sweets did not alleviate the rapidly souring mood. Finally, after noticing her friend sulking, Hermione pulled Draco out of his guilty conscience by elbowing him.

“Don’t self-sabotage today. Let’s just focus on having a good time.”

Draco smiled at her, “Alright, and where do you and your infinite knowledge suggest we start?”

Before Hermione could launch into a lecture on the history and layout of the village, Ron cut in, “Honeydukes, mates! We need to go to the sweet shop first thing!”

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, “Honestly, Ron. Do you think about anything other than your stomach?”

Ron raised his hands in surrender, “I’m just saying… it’s one of the most popular places in Hogsmeade. We want to get our treats early before they sell out.”

Draco nodded his head, “That makes sense.”

Hermione sighed, “I suppose we could do that. However, it’s going to change my itinerary completely….”

“Blimey, Hermione. You seriously made a schedule?” Ron joked.

She shot him an incredulous look, “There’s a lot to see! If you don’t have a plan, then you risk the possibility of missing something and having to wait until the next visit in November.”

“As long as you made room for Honeydukes and Zonko’s Joke Shop, then I’ll be happy,” Ron replied.

“Of course, I didn’t make my list without considerations for everyone’s interest. It includes Scrivenshaft’s Quill shop and Spintwitches Sporting Needs for Draco. As for myself, I would really like to go to Tomes and Scrolls and try Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks!”

“So, if we go to Honeydukes and Zonko’s first, then we can hit up everything that’s on the high street before branching off,” Draco theorized.

“Works for me! Though, I might just stay with the sweet and joke shop and meet you at the Three Broomsticks later,” Ron said.

“Your loss,” Hermione mumbled before pointing out the post office, “I really would like to take a look in there.”

Draco was momentarily captivated by Hermione’s giddy look until he looked out of the corner of his eye and noticed Dean and Seamus waving them over to come inside Honeydukes, “Hey Ron, why don’t you go on ahead. I think Hermione and I are going to check out some other places first. Mind grabbing her some Pink Coconut Ice, though?”

“No problem, mate,” Ron acknowledged, taking the proffered gallons from Draco’s hand, “You want anything?”

“A bag of sugar quills and some pumpkin pasties would be great. You can use what’s leftover towards getting Harry something. Thanks!”

Ron bounced away with a glint in his eyes and disappeared through the wooden door into the sweet shop, leaving Draco and Hermione behind. She was so busy taking in the sights and smells of the village that she didn’t notice Ron had left until she gasped, “Where did he go?”

Draco laughed, “I don’t think we are going to see him for a while. Come on! You said you wanted to check out the post office. Anywhere else?”

Hermione gave him a delightful grin before grabbing his sleeve and tugging him down the high street.

_________________________________

“It has got to be around here somewhere?!?” Hermione said, exasperated.

“What’s the map say?” Draco asked. After spending most of the day going in and out of the shops on the high street, Draco and Hermione decided to venture off and find Tomes and Scrolls before heading back to the Three Broomsticks. The only problem was that the book shop was not located in plain sight and was hidden down an alley that they could not find.

“Oh, damn the map. I’m going to ask someone,” Hermione cried out, frustrated. Without even thinking, she walked up to the very first wizard they came across and asked for directions. Before long, Hermione was practically skipping down the street, elated by the kind older man’s help.

“Ah! I think I see it!” Draco pointed to the hanging sign shaped like a book and had the title of the shop written in elegant large cursive. He quickly glanced at the wide storefront windows to see several books levitating up and down behind the glass. Hermione, in her usual gusto, charged forward and pushed open the green door. Draco smiled when he heard her gasp at the layout of the shelves and quickly joined her in the moment of surprise. Outside appearances were most definitely deceiving when compared to the inviting and exciting interior. Books, quite literally, filled the expansive shop from floor to ceiling in all kinds of crazy formations. To add even further, the store also appeared to be separated by two levels and was connected by a gothic, ironclad spiral staircase.

“Welcome to Tomes and Scrolls. Is there something you youngsters are looking for?” inquired an older, dark-skinned wizard from behind the ornate counter. He pulled down his reading glasses and eyed the children curiously before tucking the spectacles into his breast pocket. 

“It’s our first trip, sir. We were, I guess… hoping to have a look around if that’s alright?” Hermione mumbled, still in awe of the shop’s design.

The gentleman flashed them a kind smile, making the corner of his eyes crinkle up to meet his short, curly white hair. “Frist time in Hogsmeade then? Well, you are in for a treat. Both levels are open to browse and categorized by genre. You, young lady, look like you enjoy history. Non-fiction is up on the second floor to your left, and historical fiction is just around the corner… here,” He paused and looked at Draco, “And you, young man, let me think... Sports? No, that won’t do… Creatures? Ah, no, you are already well versed, I take it… Oh! I know! You enjoy an action novel!”

“How did you….” Draco tried to ask, but the man cut him off with a low chuckle.

“I’ve been around long enough to figure out everyone has a preference in their reading material. I’m fond of mysteries myself. You’ll find action and adventure next to historical fiction. If you have any questions, all you need to do is ask.”

“Thank you so much, Mr….” Hermione trailed off, fishing for an answer.

The man smiled again, “Philby will do.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Philby!”

Draco watched as Hermione darted off up the stairs into the non-fiction section with a warm smile on his lips. While he knew letting Hermione loose in a book store could be pretty dangerous, he couldn’t bring himself to warn her about watching the time so that they were not late to meet Ron later at the Three Broomsticks. Draco easily got swept up into the magic of the shop during his own browsing until he heard someone call his name.

“There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you! Where’s Hermione? Please tell me you didn’t spend all day in the bookstore?” Ron bombarded the blond with question after question, not stopping to take a breath.

“Whoa! Easy, mate. What time is it?” Draco cast a quick Tempus charm and gasped when he saw how much time had passed.

“Right? If you and Hermione are ready, we still have an hour left before we have to head back. We can still make it to the tavern and get Butterbeer.”

“She’s probably still upstairs. Come on!” Draco grabbed the two books he had been examining and showed Ron where she had last been. Sure enough, Hermione was sitting on the floor of the non-fiction section behind a wall of books she had pulled from the various shelves.

“Geeze, Hermione! You can’t buy all these books!” Ron commented.

Hermione gasped and looked up from her page, “I’m certainly not! At least, not this trip. I’ve narrowed it down to about seven that I for sure cannot part with.”

“Well, come on then. Purchase your stuff, and then we can head to the Three Broomsticks. We don’t have much time before we have to head back to the castle!” Ron explained.

“Oh no! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how late it was!” Hermione did a quick swish and flick, non-verbally sending all the books she was not purchasing back in their places before picking up her stack and heading down the stairs. Draco, dazed by her advanced and articulate spell work, trailed behind her before he watched her place the pile on the counter. While Mr. Philby was totaling up her purchase, Hermione held a book in each hand, looking between the two as if she were trying to make a decision.

“What is it?” Draco asked.

“I’m just trying to decide between these two. Both titles sound extremely interesting, but I need to limit what I get today… Hey, Draco! Give that back!” She admonished.

While she was rambling about which one she was deciding to buy, Draco plucked the book out of her left hand and placed it on his own stack. He then flashed her his signature smirk, “I think Mr. Philby is waiting on you.”

Flustered by what Draco had done, Hermione fumbled with her coin pouch and handed the gentleman the amount owed. He thanked her for her purchase and then started to calculate Draco’s total.

“Could you wrap this one separately, Mr. Philby? Thank you.”

“Draco Malfoy, you did not just buy me a book simply because I couldn’t decide whether or not to purchase it!” Hermione protested.

“And who said I was buying it for you?” Draco chuckled and winked at her, beyond pleased to see his comment made her nose scrunch up and cheeks blush red.

“Well… I…”

“Relax, Hermione. Of course, I’m getting it for you. Whether you get it now or have it as part of your Christmas present remains to be seen,” Draco joked.

Hermione rolled her eyes and playfully hit his arm. As Draco accepted the bag from Mr. Philby, the trio was abruptly disturbed when they heard someone mockingly making gagging sounds from behind them. His smile instantly disappeared when he saw Theo Nott pretending to throw up while pointing at them. As usual, Zacharias Smith and Blaise Zabini were jeering along with him.

“Do they seriously not have anything else better to do than to follow us around?” Ron growled, setting down the large bag from Honeydukes.

“Oh, please, Weasley. Like my life revolves around any of you,” Zacharias rolled his eyes.

“We were having a pleasant day, minding our own business… that was until it was so rudely disturbed. Just because you openly associate with Mudbloods doesn’t mean we want to see you flirt with them, Malfoy! It’s disgusting!”

Before Hermione or Ron could stop him, Draco had pulled out his wand and jammed it in the side of Theo’s neck, “Say that again, Nott. I dare you!”

At the same time, Blaise and Zacharias were raising their wands to defend Theo when Mr. Philby wandlessly disarmed all the students.

“This is a respectable business! Get out of my shop and take your schoolyard nonsense with you!” He yelled at the kids while the front door slammed open, “And don’t come back until you have learned some manners and can behave like civilized young witches and wizards!”

Draco glared at Theo as he watched the Slytherin run out of the shop with Blaise and Zacharias close on his tail. He was trying to calm himself down when he felt Hermione gently take hold of his wrist and give it a light squeeze.

“Thank you,” she whispered, “For defending my honor.”

“Always, Hermione,” he replied.

The two looked at each other for a few moments before Hermione felt the need to ease the tension between them. Letting go of his wrist, she smirked, “Though if you get yourself expelled, then I take back my gratitude and forgiveness.”

Draco playfully huffed at her, “I’m a Gryffindor. I must always defend the broken and downtrodden. It is the chivalrous thing to do, after all.”

“Right, right! If you two are quite done. I believe Butterbeer awaits us!” Ron cut in, already heading out the door.

Before departing, Hermione and Draco apologized to Mr. Philby for almost causing a fight earlier, but the older wizard waved them off and told them they were welcome back to the shop anytime.

A quick hike down some side streets found the trio at the aforementioned famous pub and inn. Hermione was giving some historical facts about the establishment all the way up to the bar.

“Good evening, dearies. What will it be?” the bartender greeted.

“Um… we like to try three Butterbeers, please!” Ron asked excitedly.

“Ah! You must be third years,” the woman deduced, filling three pewter glasses from a barrel behind the bar. “I’m Madam Rosmerta, the owner. If you need anything, just holler!”

The students paid and thanked her for their drinks before taking a seat at one of the round tables near a large fireplace towards the back of the inn.

“It’s so…” Hermione trailed off, failing to describe the yellowish-looking drink that was foaming off the top.

“Fuzzy,” Ron stated.

“Agreeable?” Draco added, his statement posed more as a question.

“And fizzy! Look at the bubbles! I bet it tastes just as sweet as it looks,” Hermione speculated.

“Only one way to find out. Bottoms up!” Ron raised his glass, inviting Draco and Hermione to join him. All three clinked their pewters in a cheer before taking a large swig of the magical drink. Simultaneously, the trio set their glasses down while they swallowed the sweet liquid.

“Wow!” Draco exclaimed, surprised by how delicious the drink tasted.

“It’s… warm!” Ron joined in.

“How… delightful! Oh, I really do like this! It’s unlike anything I have ever tasted!” Hermione smiled before taking another large sip of Butterbeer.

The three continued to enjoy their drinks all the way up until McGonagall made the last call for all students to return to Hogwarts. Even though there was a happy haze settling over the three from the Butterbeer, it did not help damper the sadness they felt as they headed back to the castle. Harry met them at the Gryffindor table, anxious to hear all about their adventures. Ron had no problem recounting the enthusiasm of the day as Draco and Hermione settled in, listening quietly to Ron’s escapades with Neville, Dean, and Seamus. In between stories, Hermione handed Harry gifts that the three collectively purchased for him. Harry gratefully accepted his treats and kept admiring them on the way back to the Gryffindor tower while Ron kept talking his ear off about the trip.

“But we never did get to go to the Shrieking Shack. You heard? It’s the most….”

“Haunted building in Britain. I know,” Harry said as the quartet followed other Gryffindors up the staircase to the portrait entrance. There was a commotion resounding through the Grand Staircase that had everyone in the party looking around in confusion.

“What’s going on?” Draco asked.

“Maybe Neville forgot the password again,” Ron snickered.

“Hey!” Neville called from behind them, offended by the insult.

“Sorry, mate. Didn’t know you were behind me,” Ron half-heartedly apologized.

Percy was shouting at students to remain clear of the entrance, arrogantly reminding them of his head boy status while paintings behind him were crying and gasping at the atrocity. The Fat Lady’s portrait had been maimed, and the guardian of the Gryffindor Tower was missing from her frame.

Draco could hear Ron gulp behind him as the redhead tried to joke about the situation, “Serves her right. She was a terrible singer.”

“It’s not funny, Ron,” Hermione chastised. Even though Draco knew that inappropriate jokes were the redhead’s nervous tick, he had to agree with Hermione that this wasn’t the time.

Before any more could be said, the Headmaster and Mr. Filch were pushing their way through the hoards of students to investigate the disturbing events. Draco could barely hear Dumbledore’s order to round up the ghosts to search for the Fat Lady when Filch pointed to a painting across the Grand Staircase, “No need for ghosts, Professor. The Fat Lady is there.”

Upon seeing where Filch was pointing, everyone collectively raced up the staircases and ignored Percy’s instructions to remain where they were. Draco, Harry, Hermione, and Ron watched from behind a group of fifth-year Gryffindors as Dumbledore calmly approached the African savannah painting the Fat Lady was hiding in, “Dear Lady, who did this to you?”

The Fat lady sobbed, “Eyes like the devil, he’s got, and a soul as dark as his name. He’s here, Headmaster. The one they all talk about. Sirius Black. Inside the castle! He attacked me when I refused to let him in!”

Everyone became hysterical by the Fat Lady’s tale, murmuring that Sirius Black tried to break into the Gryffindor Tower and hide somewhere inside Hogwarts. Dumbledore ordered all the students to return to the Great Hall, locking them inside for their own protection, before summoning the teachers and ghosts to search the halls and grounds for the mass murderer. To try and ease their nerves, the enchanted ceiling transformed into a stary night sky at the same time the house tables disappeared to make room for the magically conjured standard sleeping bags. Evidently, they were going to be spending a long night in the Great Hall. After failing to settle down in the covers, Ron dared to whisper to his friends his speculations.

“Do you think he’s still inside the castle?”

“Dumbledore seems to think so,” Draco quietly replied.

“How could he have gotten in?” Harry asked.

“There have to be a number of ways,” Ron theorized, “Apparition, disguising himself, or he even could have flown in….”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Am I the only one that bothered to read Hogwarts, A History?”

“What’s that book got to do with this?” Ron questioned when he shifted over to look at Draco, the blond softly chuckling into his sleeping bag, “What’s so funny?”

Draco smirked, “I just know exactly where this is going, so before you say anything, just remember, Hermione is always right. Take it away, love.”

Cocking her head, looking smug, Hermione continued, “The castle is protected by all sorts of enchantments, including an anti-apparition ward and a knock-back jinx should someone try to enter through stealth.”

Ron was cursing under his breath when he quickly shut up at the sound of approaching footsteps. The young Gryffindors stilled, pretending to be asleep as they overheard the conversation between Dumbledore and Snape.

“I’ve completed the search of the dungeons. No sign of Sirius Black, nor anywhere else in the castle,” he informed the Headmaster.

“I didn’t really expect him to linger,” Dumbledore replied wistfully.

“Remarkable feat, don’t you think?” Snape commented, “to enter the Hogwarts Castle on one’s own… completely undetected?”

“Quite remarkable, yes.”

“Any theories on how he managed it?” Snape asked.

“Many. Each as unlikely as the next,” Dumbledore replied.

Draco held his breath as the conversation paused. He could hear the rustling of robes until Snape cleared his throat, “You may recall prior to the start of the term that I expressed concerns about the appointment of a certain Professor….”

“Not a single professor inside this castle would help Sirius Black enter it,” Dumbledore interrupted the Potion’s Master, his tone firm. It was unclear if Snape was talking about Hagrid or Professor Lupin when the man continued, “I’m quite convinced the castle is safe for the time being, and I’m more than willing to send the students back to their houses.”

“And Potter? Should he be warned?” Snape inquired.

“Perhaps. But for now, let the boy sleep. For in dreams, we enter a world that’s entirely our own. Let him swim in the deepest ocean or glide over the highest cloud.

_____________________

It seemed that all the school could talk about was Sirius Black and the incident with the Fat Lady. Everywhere the quartet went, people quickly turned away from Harry, lowered their voices to a whisper, or would drop the conversation entirely even though it was obvious they were talking about the boy who lived. As if the gossip wasn’t annoying enough, Percy Weasley had taken it upon himself to escort (more like stalk) Harry to every class, or monitor him during his evening quidditch practices.

“That’s it! I’ve tried to stay positive, but this year is turning into a Murphy’s law-type situation! I cannot stand him!” Hermione yelled one day at breakfast as she slammed her textbook down so hard that it made the glassware rattle.

“Who is Murphy, and what did he do to you?” Draco asked quickly, concerned for her and angry at the little bugger who upset Hermione.

She chuckled, “Murphy’s law is a muggle reference. It’s an adage that states: ‘Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.’ And I was complaining about Sir Cadogan.”

“Oh, that portrait is a menace! Honestly! I will send flowers and apologize for the rest of the term if it means the Fat Lady will return as the Gryffindor Tower guardian. Her singing wasn’t all that bad, anyway!” Ron lamented.

Harry and Draco rolled their eyes at Ron’s statement when Hermione continued, “He’s more than just annoying. He’s misogynistic! Take today, for example! I forgot a book for one of my classes, and he wouldn’t let me in unless I had an ‘escort’! Then he scolded me for walking around the castle unaccompanied! If it wasn’t for Dean coming out of the tower, who knows how long I would have stood there arguing with him that I am an independent person and don’t need a male escort! Honestly, I would like to see his credentials and hear from someone unbiased on how he earned his knighthood.”

“Hate to break it to you, Hermione, but this is an argument you aren’t going to win,” Ron stated unhelpfully.

“What do you mean?” She asked, perturbed.

“Well, for starters, he’s not a person. He’s a portrait,” Ron explained like the answer was obvious.

“So? What’s that got to do with his attitude and treatment towards women?”

Ron blinked, “Everything! Geez, is this something I know that you don’t?”

“Well, I’d be very interested to learn about it, Ronald,” Hermione retorted sarcastically.

“Hold on one second. Let me just,” the redhead paused to take a deep breath, “enjoy this moment. This… feeling is amazing! Is this how you feel all the time when you, you know, actually know all the answers?”

“Ron!” Hermione snapped.

“Alright! Though Sir Cadogan’s painting is animated, and let me tell you… that takes quite a bit of charm work to accomplish, only a piece of his personality gets fused into the portrait itself, which is why magical paintings are different than a ghost. They…”

“Are only a copy of the real-life person and thus not sentient. Which is why they display set behaviors and not learned….” Hermione groaned, “How did I not work that out myself?”

Ron smirked, “That’s okay. I won’t hold it against you this time.”

Harry leaned across the table and whispered to Draco, “I feel like I’m watching an episode of the Twilight Zone on the telly.”

“I don’t know what that is, but I’m going to pretend I do and agree with you,” Draco replied, getting a chuckle from Harry.

_____________________

Later that day, the four were sitting in Defense Against the Dark Arts when the door suddenly burst open, startling the students. Snape stormed purposefully into the classroom while he waved his wand to close the shutters on the windows. He stood in the front and glared at the students before he pulled down a projector screen, “Turn to page 394.”

The class looked confused but still followed the instructions as Snape tapped a projector with his wand. A black and white picture of a werewolf appeared before everyone’s eyes.

“Sir! This lesson was supposed to be on Hinky-punks! We aren’t due to start Werewolves until closer to the end of the term!” Hermione cried out. Draco raised an eyebrow at her, weirded out by the fact that she not only seemed to appear out of nowhere but didn’t even bother to raise her hand before speaking.

“10 points from Gryffindor for your outburst, Miss Granger,” Snape replied before continuing as if she hadn’t spoken.

“Sir, where is Professor Lupin?” Harry boldly asked with a hint of skepticism in his tone.

“That…” Snape drawled, “isn’t really your concern is it, Potter? Suffice it to say that your Professor finds himself incapable of teaching at the present time. Now, I will not repeat myself again. Turn to page 394.”

Draco was only half paying attention to the lecture as Snape droned on in his usual monosyllabic tone about the origins of werewolves. Instead, the blond became distracted by thinking about his former mentor’s attitude toward the new Professor. Draco became even more perplexed as to why Snape and Lupin were at odds and itched to know the history behind the hostility. Harry spent his time with Professor Lupin while everyone else was in Hogsmeade. He told them about a mysterious potion that Snape brewed for Lupin and how condescending the Potions Master was towards the Defense Professor. Not only that, but Draco had privately observed that Snape and Lupin never looked at one another and barely spoke to the other unless forced. All the thoughts had him staring off into space until he quickly brought himself back to reality in time to hear Snape’s next question.

“Can anyone tell me the difference between a Werewolf and an Animagus?”

Hermione’s hand immediately shot up, but Snape continued to look over the classroom and proceeded to ignore her.

“No one? How disappointing…” he drawled.

“Please, sir! An Animagus is a wizard who elects to turn into an animal. It’s a very complicated and spiritual process. A Werewolf has no choice. With each full moon, the man transforms into the beast and no longer remembers who he is. He’d kill his best friend on instinct once fully surrendered to the transformation. Furthermore, Werewolves will only respond to the call of their own kind,” Hermione recited her speech, her voice a perfect recall of the text. When she finished, Goyle howled in the back of the classroom, inciting the Slytherins to snicker along with him.

“Thank you for that demonstration, Mr. Goyle,” Snape growled before directing his fury onto Hermione, “That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger. Are you incapable of restraining yourself, or do you take pride in being an insufferable know-it-all?”

The room silently gasped at Snape’s blatant insult directed towards the young Gryffindor girl. Anyone who met Hermione would agree that she mostly knew everything and possibly called her a “know-it-all” behind her back at least once or twice; no one, not even the Slytherins, would willingly subject someone to be on the receiving end of Snape’s wrath. In response to his insults, she lowered her hand and ducked her head to avoid crying. Draco gritted his teeth as he watched her fight the tears and tried to not be affected by the disdain Snape harbored towards her. Most of the class glared at the man for his rudeness.

Angry, Draco boldly gave Snape a pointed look, “Was that completely necessary? It seemed to me that you asked a question, and Hermione was kind enough to answer it for everyone.”

Snape glared at his former mentee, slightly taken aback by his brash attitude, before clearing his throat, “Detention Mr. Malfoy and 20 Points from Gryffindor. As for the rest of you... as an antidote to your ignorance, on my desk by Monday morning, two rolls of parchment on the Werewolf with a particular emphasis on recognizing it.”

Harry groaned, “But sir! It’s quidditch this weekend!”

Snape leaned down and replied without an ounce of compassion in his voice, “Then I suggest you take extra care, Mr. Potter. Not even the loss of a limb will excuse you from page 394.”

When the class was blessedly dismissed, Professor Snape told Draco to meet him after dinner in the Potion’s classroom to serve his detention that night. As he was walking to the next class with Harry, Ron, and Hermione, it was Ron who finally asked, “What do you suppose he will have you do?”

“Don’t know, but it’s probably not going to be relabeling potion vials."

Chapter Text

Draco tried not to be angry or bitter that Professor Snape required him to serve his detention while the Gryffindors scheduled their practice Quidditch. Wood had even chewed Draco out for missing the team’s last chance to prepare before the match this weekend. As if things couldn’t get any worse, the weather had been stormy and windy all week, which meant that every second of preparation counted before they faced Hufflepuff. Even though the Gryffindors had easily beaten the Puffs in the past, Wood didn’t want them to get too cocky, for rumor was they had a new captain and seeker, Cedric Diggory. Maybe there was something to Hermione’s point earlier today when she said it felt like anything that could go wrong has, or in this case, could continue to go against them. Any more Quidditch speculation had to be put on pause when Draco entered the dungeon.

“Sir,” he greeted.

“Follow me, Mr. Malfoy,” Snape commanded, opening the door to his office.

Reluctantly, Draco followed right behind his former mentor into the dark and gloomy space that he wished he wasn’t familiar with. Behind the circular desk and black leather chair were rows of potions ingredients that Snape collected and kept locked away from student use. During one of his classes in his second year, Draco had snuck into this very same room to steal from a few of those vials so Hermione could complete the Polyjuice Potion they needed to sneak into the Slytherin common room. It was a secret that he planned on taking to his grave.

“Sit down,” Snape ordered, waving his wand to conjure a blackboard. As Draco took a seat in the uncomfortable wooden chair provided, he saw one word written out on the board:

Occlumency

“How much do you know about this defensive magic?” Snape questioned him.

“I…” Draco paused, collecting his thoughts before answering, “Very little, I’m afraid.”

Snape, clearly annoyed, continued pacing in front of Draco, muttering under his breath. Draco couldn’t quite make out what he said, but it sounded suspiciously like his mother’s name. After a few seconds, Snape flicked his wand again so that more words appeared on the board, “Occlumency is ancient defensive magic that the user can perform on the mind to protect it from intrusion or influence. A wizard or witch who practices this art is known as an Occlumens. Tell me, Draco, who do you know in your life who is an Occlumens?”

Draco gasped, “Mother….”

Snape nodded, “Correct. Your mother is a natural-born Occlumens, just as your father is a natural-born Legilimens. You do know what that is, I presume?”

“Yes,” Draco whispered, all too familiar with his father’s ability, “He used to perform it on the tutors.”

“I assure you, Draco, his skills are far more practiced than what you might have witnessed as a child,” Snape rolled his eyes before he continued, “You have the potential to inherit either gift. At the beginning of the term, your mother wrote and asked for my assistance in figuring out if you possessed her inherited mental defenses. If so, then training you will be slightly more bearable.”

“Training me?” Draco asked, confused, “I thought I was serving detention, not getting extra defense lessons.”

Snape gave him an incredulous look, “As much as you should be punished for your outburst today, that was simply a guise. Draco, you are willfully defying every expectation and stigma that is attached to your family name. That level of rebellion has now associated you with blood traitors and mudbloods, thus making you a target.”

Draco clenched his jaw, not wanting to bite back a response when Snape continued his explanation.

“Your mother believes you need to learn how to shield your mind from any… undue influence as soon as possible. Quite frankly, I agree with her. If you insist on continuing down this road of self-destruction, then you must be prepared to arm yourself from those who will seek to do you harm.”

Draco was confused as to why the man in front of him was accepting such an arduous task at his mother’s request. Snape’s explanation, though terrifying, was profound as the young Gryffindor took a moment for the meaning to sink in. The more he thought about what the Professor said, the more Draco realized that his actions didn’t just amount to simple acts of rebellion. It was one thing to ignore his father’s orders or give up his childhood friends in favor of the new relationships he had formed in his house. If anything, it only served to prove his boggart now felt more like a prediction than an in-class exercise.

“I’m going to have to choose. Aren’t I?” Draco whispered.

Snape scoffed, “I would argue you already made the decision, but your observation is not entirely incorrect. Draco, there will come a time where you can no longer walk this line between these two different worlds. You will, inevitably, have to pick a path and live with the consequences that come on the road you choose to take. Whichever one that may be, whether it’s with your Gryffindor brethren or in the shadow of your father, Occlumency is a skill that will serve you well.”

“How do you know if I possess a natural skill set?” Draco asked.

Snape didn’t respond but instead raised his wand and muttered a spell. The next thing Draco felt was like tiny pinpricks were poking at his mind, trying to unravel his memories and summon emotions attached to them. Snape dug as if he was a malicious groundhog in a garden, pulling up the recent memories of him in class, then moving on to hanging out with his friends, until he reached the summer and the fight with his father over the Hogsmeade permission slip. The discomfort was unnatural and uncomfortable for Draco as he let Snape continue his prodding until he tried to access memories that were exclusive to Hermione.

NO, Draco mentally shouted. The act unconsciously placed a weak, invisible barrier around his mind and pushed the Professor out, thus breaking off the spell.

Snape hummed, “It appears you favor your mother’s ability. Well done, Draco.”

The sarcasm was not lost on the young wizard as he struggled to right himself after the invasion of his privacy. He glared at Snape, “Now that… that is established, where do we go from here?”

“I will spare you from any more practical demonstrations tonight but instead leave you with some instructional text and methods. The covers are charmed so that they are unreadable to the prying eye… meaning they are not to be shared. With anyone.”

Draco gulped as he accepted three books from the Professor. The warning was evident in the man’s tone. He was not to share the books with Hermione, Harry, or Ron.

Snape sneered, “Those are also from my personal collection and better be returned in the pristine condition in which I loaned them.”

“Of course, sir,” Draco replied.

“You are free to go for the night. I expect you to return in three weeks having completed all the reading,” Snape said.

“And what am I to tell my friends what I did tonight for detention?” Draco asked cheekily.

Snape huffed before he glared at Draco, “That… is not my concern. Besides, you had no problem with your words in class earlier today.”

Draco couldn’t get out of the classroom fast enough.

_________________

The Gryffindors were in a foul mood by the time Saturday morning rolled around. Not only did the weather take a turn for the worst, but Alicia Spinnet had contracted a virus that Pepper-up Potion couldn’t cure and thus had to go to the hospital wing for treatment. With one of their chasers forced to sit out of the match per Madam Pomfrey’s orders, today became the day that Draco would play his first Quidditch match for his house team. Harry was trying to put on a brave face and give Draco encouragement, even though the dark-haired wizard was tired and cranky from having been woken early by Peeves for no apparent reason other than the poltergeist thought it was funny. The half-hearted pep talk from his friend and snappy orders from Oliver Wood was not helping Draco calm his nerves as he listened to the thunder intermittingly clap while he dressed in his Quidditch robe.

“Alright, Malfoy, we have practiced and prepared for this. You know our strategies. Just follow the signals, and we will be just fine,” Angelina Johnson affirmed.

Not trusting his voice, Draco nodded his response and gripped his broom a little bit tighter. The team was getting ready to march out onto the field when they heard someone calling for them to stop. A few seconds later, Hermione came running into the tent with Ron right on her heels.

“Hermione? What’s going on?” Draco asked with concern.

“As we were walking to the pitch, Ron commented that none of you would be able to see with how much it’s raining! I can’t believe they are still letting the match continue with all the wind and such, but I have a solution. Give me your goggles,” She ordered. Draco handed them over without argument. Tapping them with her wand, she whispered, “Impervious.”

Smiling, she handed the goggles back to Draco, “There, now they’ll repeal water!”

“Brilliant, Hermione!” Harry exclaimed, handing his goggles to her. She took turns charming each of the players’ equipment until they were finally ready to head out on the pitch. Before Draco could join his fellow chasers, Hermione jumped up and gave him a fierce hug.

“Good Luck, Draco. You can do this,” She whispered.

“Thanks, love,” He replied before taking his place amongst the team.

The wind and rain violently assaulted the Gryffindors almost immediately after walking out onto the field. Draco became soaked not even 30 seconds out of the tent, making his skin instantly feel frozen. Not even the exhilaration he felt from flying could distract him from the chill that had seeped all the way down to his bones. As soon as he was in the air, Madam Hooch blew her whistle, causing Draco to spring into action. Back and forth, the Quaffle went between the Hufflepuffs in their canary gold uniforms to the Gryffindors in their ruby red. Draco worked well with Angelina and Katie Bell, the other Gryffindor Chasers, as they fought against all odds to lead the score by 50 points. After an hour and a half into the match, Oliver called a time out, giving the team a quick reprieve from the onslaught of the weather. How was it even possible that it seemed to be worsening by the minute? It was practically a miracle that the elements hadn’t knocked one of the players off their brooms yet. That or sticking charms could be at play.

“Alright, even though the storm appears to be picking up, we are still ahead. Chasers, keep your game up. Beaters, you know what to do. And Harry, if you could catch the snitch as quickly as possible, that would be fantastic.”

When the break was over, the players once again took to the sky. Draco was trying to ignore the numbness in his fingers as he and Katie continued to juggle the Quaffle. In a wild, ill-advised play, Katie performed a wide Reverse Pass which Draco narrowly caught and threw into the right goal ring, earning the House of Lions another 10 points. Breathing heavily, Draco cracked a huge smile when he looked over in the Gryffindor stands and saw Hermione cheering loudly for him. He didn’t get to celebrate the success long for the Hufflepuff keeper, Herbert Fleet, already had the ball in play again.

Draco soared after it, not paying attention to Harry and Cedric going off the field and high up in the clouds after the snitch. One of the Hufflepuff Chasers, Heidi Macavory, had control of the Quaffle when lightning suddenly struck her. Draco gasped as he watched the poor girl release the ball so that she could control her flight path and crash onto the muddy grass below. While injuries were brutal and not uncommon in Quidditch, especially when there was terrible weather, the game had to go on. Angelina took advantage of the momentary distraction and scored another 10 points, making the Gryffindor team ahead by 70. But it still wouldn’t be enough if Cedric caught the snitch. As Katie raced to snatch the Quaffle from Malcolm Preece, another Hufflepuff Chaser, Draco look off to the left and noticed that Cedric had re-entered the arena, but Harry wasn’t in sight. The blond wizard looked up into the clouds where the Hufflepuff Seeker had emerged when he saw flashes of black shadows appearing in and out of the cloud coverage.

The next thing he knew, Draco saw Harry falling from the sky. Breaking his formation, Draco flew higher into the sky, on a collision course to try and catch his friend before he could hit the ground. Letting go of his broom, Draco held out his arms and grabbed onto Harry’s Quidditch robes. But Draco underestimated how much of a factor gravity and weight would play into his plan. As soon as he had hold of Harry, the force of the fall dismounted him and pulled both boys towards the field. It was such a weird sensation to free fall from one’s broom. Draco felt heavy and yet weightless at the same time. He was utterly helpless to stop the impending impact as he held on to Harry’s unconscious body and waited for the pain that never came. Slowly, Draco opened his eyes and watched as everything around him began to move in slow motion until he became entirely suspended in the air next to Harry, only a few inches above the grass. The spell hindered his reflexes and senses, but he still heard the long, high-pitched whistle indicating the end of the game.

Draco’s movements continued to be slowed and delayed as he tried to work his limbs and find contact with the ground. After a few moments of struggling in his suspended state, the spell was released and sent Draco and Harry to plop in the mud. The blond wizard grunted as he sat up to see most of the Hogwarts Professors, along with Hermione and Ron, had rushed out onto the field. McGonagall levitated Harry onto a stretcher when Professor Dumbledore addressed Draco, “Did you see what attacked Harry?”

“Dementors… It was Dementors,” Draco stuttered out through chattering teeth.

Hermione kneeled next to him, looking him over for any cuts or bruises, “Are you alright?! Draco! You two fell nearly 100 feet! You could have died!”

“I’m… I’m fine. Is Harry okay? He was knocked out when I found him. Cold too… had ice dangling from his robes,” he explained, trying to keep his voice unmistakable.

“Get everyone who was injured to the hospital wing,” Dumbledore commanded before storming off the field.

Hermione gasped, “I’ve never seen Dumbledore look so furious.”

“I’d imagine it has to do with the Dementors. They aren’t supposed to come onto the school grounds, and here they are attacking a student!” Ron cried out in a rage.

Before the students could say any more about the topic, Draco was also levitated onto a stretcher and brought to the hospital wing with everyone else injured during the match. Many of the beds were full as Madam Pomfrey, and a seventh-year apprentice took turns assessing conditions and dressing wounds. The matron finally checked out Draco and ascertained that he had a case of the chills but was otherwise healthy. “Right lucky you are, boy. What you did was brave but very stupid,” She muttered under her breath.

With Draco cleared, he joined the rest of the team with Hermione and Ron to wait for Harry to wake up. After about an hour, the boy who lived finally roused and only became slightly startled by the crowd around his bed.

“Aright there, Harry?” George Weasley inquired before anyone could pipe in. 

“You gave us quite a scare, mate!” Fred Weasley added.

“What happened?” Harry asked.

“That’s what we were going to ask you,” Katie Bell said.

“I remember going after the snitch, and then the next thing I knew, I was surrounded by Dementors. I tried to get away, but one of them flew right in front of me and….”

“And that’s when you passed out?” Draco interjected.

“Must have been. How did I get here?” Harry asked.

“It was a combination of things, really,” Ron said.

“Draco caught you as you were falling, and then Dumbledore cast an Arresto Momentum on both of you. The incantation stops a falling object or person to keep them from harm,” Hermione explained.

Harry’s mouth dropped before he held out his arm for Draco to clutch, giving his friend a brother-in-arms type handshake, “Thanks, mate.”

Draco smirked, “Anytime.”

When Harry let go, he took a sip of water before he continued his questions, “But the match. Who won? Are they going to replay it?”

Everyone was silent for a moment until Hermione stood up, “No one blames you, Harry. It was really awful what happened, but….”

“Cedric caught the snitch,” Angelina blurted out.

“He’s a decent bloke, though. After he found out what happened to you, he tried to have the match canceled and asked for a replay, but Hooch said the catch was fair all things considering,” George explained.

“Even Wood agreed,” Fred added.

“The final score ended up being 170 for Hufflepuff and 90 for Gryffindor,” Katie finished.

Harry’s face dropped. This was the first match he played in where Gryffindor had lost and didn’t catch the snitch.

“It’s going to be okay, Harry. The score isn’t important right now,” Hermione tried to reason, but everyone else around her disagreed.

When the arguing died down a bit, Ron cleared his throat, “There’s something else you should know too. When you fell, your broom sort of blew into the Whomping Willow, and….”

Harry looked absolutely dejected as Ron held up pieces of splintered wood that used to comprise his very first broomstick. The Nimbus 2000 was entirely unsalvageable. At that moment, Madam Pomfrey kicked everyone out of the infirmary and sent them back to their common rooms. As Draco was walking around with the rest of the Gryffindors, he heard Oliver call his name. The Gryffindor Quidditch Captain came running up the stairs, still in his drenched Quidditch robes.

“Bad luck, I’m afraid, Malfoy. We can’t find your Comet Two Sixty,” Wood informed him, “After you fell off it, the broom just went high and out of sight. Most likely, it’s lost in the clouds.” 

Draco blew out a breath he had been holding in. He knew that this was a possibility that his Comet would fly off, never to be seen again. They were known for staying stable and in the air for prolonged periods of time, which was one of the reasons why the Comet Broom company had a reputation for making very reliable sticks for Quidditch players. However, the news was still disheartening to hear. He felt someone rubbing his arm and looked over to see Hermione was trying to comfort him.

“It’ll be okay,” She whispered.

“Don’t worry about it, mate. We can search for it when the weather clears up,” Ron added, giving Draco a small reassuring smile.

________________________

Everyone in the house of lions felt the loss to Hufflepuff, but Harry took it especially hard. After a couple of weeks of trying to cheer him up, Ron and Draco decided there was no point in bringing the match up again and came to the conclusion that Harry needed to learn how to live with the failure. When the weather did eventually clear up around mid-November, Ron, Hermione, Harry, and Draco went out into the grounds and tried to look for Draco’s broom, but the Comet Two Sixty was nowhere to be found.

“I’m sorry about your broomstick, mate,” Ron said.

“It’s alright. I’ll try and see if I can get a replacement during the Hogsmeade weekend,” Draco replied, trying to shrug off how disappointed he felt.

“That’s right! I forgot there was a Quidditch supplies store in Hogsmeade!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Hey, Harry… maybe we can sneak you out, and then you and Draco could both get replacement brooms!” Ron speculated, quite pleased with his plan.

“That’s not going to work,” Harry said, “Filch or someone will catch me.”

“Plus, it would look pretty suspicious if the day after a Hogsmeade trip Harry suddenly has a brand-new broom,” Hermione added.

 “Not to mention I don’t have enough money for one,” Harry grumbled, “I’d have to go to London and make a withdrawal.”

“A Cashpoint would be fantastic,” Hermione agreed as the four took their seats in the Great Hall for dinner. A few owls started screeching and fluttering around the ceiling, coming to leave some belated mail or gifts for some of the students. Draco immediately recognized his new familiar and personal owl, Ariel.

“Hey there, boy. What do you have here?” Draco asked, taking the letter from the bird’s talon. He fed the creature some hamburger before opening the seal.

“Who’s it from?” Ron said with his mouth full.

“My mother…” Draco trailed off, giving his full attention to the text.

              My Dearest Dragon,

                             I was most distraught to receive a letter from your Head of House regarding your reckless actions in the most recent Quidditch match. While what you did was … honorable (I suppose), it was also incredibly dangerous and had the potential of causing yourself irrefutable harm! Furthermore, I am disappointed that I had to hear of these events, not from my son but a professor. In the future, I expect you to be more forthcoming in your correspondence.         

My understanding is that you will be going to Hogsmeade this weekend. Please meet me at Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop at 9:00 a.m. on Saturday, the 27th of November.

I am looking forward to seeing you.

                                                             Sincerely,

                                                            Narcissa Malfoy

Draco’s eyes widened as he re-read the message. His mother was coming to visit him! So many questions were plaguing his mind, he almost felt dizzy. Would she bring his father, or would she come alone? What did she want to talk about? Surely it wasn’t just to lecture him about recent events? Had Black reached out to his family for sanctuary in the midst of his manhunt?

“Hello? Earth to Draco!” Ron said, snapping his fingers in front of the blond wizard’s eyes to get his attention, “Was the letter that bad?”

Draco cleared his throat, “She’s coming.”

“Your mum?” Harry inquired, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

“To Hogsmeade. She’s coming during this trip,” Draco explained.

“Well, that can’t be good,” Ron stated, which earned him an elbow from Harry.

“Can I see it?” Hermione asked tentatively.

Draco nodded and handed the letter over to her. He suddenly felt nauseous and lost his appetite.

After scanning the contents, Hermione let out a sigh, “I don’t think you have anything major to worry about. It sounds like she was just concerned about your health and wants to see you, as any mother would be.”

“Will you be spending all day with her?” Ron asked.

“Most likely not,” Draco said, “Probably just an hour or so. It won’t take all day… promise!”

“Oh, good! Because I know we wanted to see the Shrieking Shack this time around, and Hermione and I aren’t going to go unless you can come too,” Ron smiled before he scoped another spoonful of mashed potatoes.

____________________________

The next visit to the wizarding village was freezing and required the students not brave enough to make the trek on foot to take the carriages into town due to the amount of snow that had settled on the ground. While this was typical weather for the Scottish Highlands, it still slowed down the trio’s plans for the day and made Draco five minutes late for his meeting with his mother, a fact she so kindly reminded him when he finally arrived in the private room. After a few minutes of being sufficiently chastised for his tardiness, paired with numerous apologies on his end, an awkward silence fell over the table as the tea service began. Draco knew that it was his mother’s call as to when she would decide to open up the conversation, so he gritted his teeth and tried not to be annoyed by the sounds of clinking glassware. After what felt like ages, Narcissa finally spoke.

“I am very relieved to see you are uninjured after the match. When I received the letter from Professor McGonagall, I was… just beside myself.”

Draco’s face softened, “I am sorry to have caused you such panic, mother. It was the heat of the game.”

“I understand that, but it still does not placate a mother from worrying about her only child. Your father may no longer have his position, but it still angered him and myself that Dumbledore allowed Dementors to patrol around the borders of Hogwarts. Had he still been on the board, I assure you it wouldn’t have been allowed! What happened to Mr. Potter is exactly why we were against the policy! To think… it could have happened to you!”

“But it didn’t! They have to catch Sirius Black, mother,” Draco reminded her, “Speaking of, I was wondering if there was anything you could tell me about him.”

Narcissa’s face dropped, “You know the rule, Draco.”

Draco rolled his eyes, “Yes, that’s father’s rule. No discussion of blood traitors and all that lot. But don’t you think being the only wizard to have escaped Azkaban warrants some discussion. For instance, there is a rumor that he supported You-Know-Who and is going to kill Harry. You probably haven’t heard, but he’s already snuck into the castle and attacked the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower.”

The teacup rattled in Narcissa’s hand. Draco watched as the woman quickly regained her composure and delicately placed the cup and saucer back onto the table. She was silent for a few moments until Draco reached over and patted her hand.

“Father isn’t here. Telling me what you know could potentially help me, and… maybe even save Harry.”

Narcissa carefully studied her son, her face impassive until she finally spoke, “Very well,” she paused as if to gather her thoughts before she continued, “As you know, Sirius was… is, my cousin. Your Great Aunt Walburga did not speak of him, disowned him in fact, because he was a blood traitor.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, “So, he wasn’t a supporter? He won’t try to go to father for help?”

If the information before weren’t such a revelation, Draco would have been taken aback by the unladylike snort his mother gave, “Goodness, no! He was vehemently against the pureblood culture, and that included the ideologies. In all honesty, he reminds me a bit of you.”

“Me?” Draco said incredulously.

Narcissa nodded, “Yes. You both were from pureblood families and sacred twenty-eight no less. Both were sorted into Gryffindor, and now both of you are best friends with a Potter.”

“He was best friends with Harry’s dad?” Draco whispered.

“Yes, quite close. Sirius was 16 when he was blasted off the Black tapestry and kicked out of your Great Aunt’s home. When Sirius became homeless, it was the Potter’s who took him in,” she explained. Draco’s face contorted into confusion. He posed his mouth to ask another question but stopped himself when Narcissa held up her hand, “That is all I know for a fact. The rest is merely speculation that you have no doubt read from the Daily Prophet. Rest assured, Black will not approach us for help.”

Mother and Son spent the remainder of the time discussing safe topics of conversation, mainly comprised of Draco talking about his classes and briefly talking about his first Quidditch match. When he mentioned he possibly would have to sit out of the next game due to losing his broom, Narcissa tutted and reassured Draco she would take care of everything before he was due to play. Hearing that his mother cared and wanted to support him was a relief that caused his shoulders to relax visibly and brought a smile to his face. When the hour was up, Draco dashed out of the tea shop to find Hermione and Ron waiting for him just outside Honeydukes.

“There you are! Ready to go, mate? That is if you’re brave enough!” Ron teased.

“Shut it, Weasley. If you want, we could race to see who gets to the Shack first?” Draco challenged.

“You’re on!” the redhead shouted before he took off in a sprint with Draco on his heels.

Hermione was yelling and laughing at them all the way to the edge of town. She didn’t lag too far behind but did struggle to keep up with the two boys, for she was not as athletic as her friends. They eventually made it to the outer reaches of the town where the infamous Shrieking Shack was looming off in the distance under the white mist of the snow. The three skidded to a stop in front of a long barbwire fence encompassing the property’s parameter. Next to Ron was a sizeable wooden pole with several totems hanging from the worn sign.

“They’re offerings,” Hermione explained, still panting from the run, “The legend states that every month, the villagers of Hogsmeade leave them in order to keep the spirit that haunts the property away from the village.”

“Wicked,” Ron smirked, eying the building like it was a prize to be conquered.

“It’s known as the most haunted building in all of Britain. Not even the Hogwarts’ ghost will go near it,” she stated, not taking her gaze off the house.

“Do you want to move a bit closer?” Ron asked excitedly.

Hermione’s face dropped, “Did I not just say it’s the most haunted building in the country?”

“Yes, twice now,” Ron dismissed before he turned to Draco, “What about you, Malfoy? Want to see if we can find a door?”

Draco laughed, “You must have a death wish, Weasley. I think there is a reason why the Shack is rumored not to have any doors or windows.”

Before Ron could cajole his friends anymore, they turned at the unexpected taunts coming from the tree line, “Well, well! Look who it is. Weasley shopping for his new dream home.”

Draco rolled his eyes at Theo’s insults. He did a quick scan and saw that Crabbe, Goyle, and Zacharias flanked the Slytherin. Before he could ponder more on where or why Blaise wasn’t with the group, Zacharias joined in and jeered at the redhead, “Isn’t it a bit grand for you? Don’t your family sleep in one room?”

“Say that to my face, Smith!” Ron shouted, getting ready to lunge at the tall wizard. Had Draco not stopped his hot-headed friend, Ron would have most definitively punched the Slytherin and broken his pointy, upturned nose.

“Well, that wasn’t very friendly,” Nott said, smirking and raising his eyebrow at his gang, “Boys, I think it’s time we teach Weasel-Bee how to respect his superiors.”

Hermione fake laughed, “I hope you don’t mean yourself!”

Draco and Ron were laughing with her until they abruptly stopped when Nott physically spat at her, “How dare you talk to me! You filthy little mudblood!”

Draco let go of Ron and was ready to tackle Theo when out of nowhere, a snowball flew through the air and hit the Slytherin square in the face.

“Who’s there?” Zacharias called out with a slight tremble in his voice when another snowball hit him in the arm. 

One after the other, snowballs magically flew through the air and attacked the bullies. Nott was spitting snow out of his mouth when he shoved Crabbe, “Don’t just stand there! Do something!”

“What?” Crabbe shrugged his shoulder. The round, disagreeable boy screamed when his pants fell by themselves to reveal embarrassing bright yellow boxers with little brooms magically zooming around the material. Hermione, Ron, and Draco were too busy laughing to notice that Zacharias had already run off like the insensitive coward he was when Goyle and Nott each took a plummet into the snow.

“Ghost! It’s the ghost of the Shrieking Shack!” Goyle screamed, trying to crawl back up the hill.

Having a guess who was behind the pranks, Draco just leaned back and watched as the “ghost” grabbed Theo by his ankles and dragged him closer towards the haunted building. When Theo regained his control, the remaining Slytherins ran away from the property like a bat out of Hell, all while Ron, Hermione, and Draco cackled.

Hermione was still giggling when she saw the flaps of Ron’s hat start to bounce up and down, scaring the redhead. Failing to school her expression, she tried to speak with a stern tone, “Harry!”

Laughing hysterically, Harry revealed himself to the group and threw off the invisibility cloak. The dark-haired wizard was having a proper fit of his own when Ron commended him, “That was bloody brilliant, Harry!”

“Served them right,” Draco agreed, “But how did you know we were here?”

“Better yet, how did you sneak out?” Ron asked.

“With this,” Harry held up the piece of parchment and tapped his wand to the cover, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

Draco’s eyes widened as the magical parchment miraculously came to life. It appeared to be an enchanted map of Hogwarts with live records of who was present in the castle and their exact location.

“Where did you find this?” Ron asked in awe.

“Fred and George gave it to me. They showed me a secret passage under the one-eyed witch statue that leads straight to Honeydukes cellar. When I exited the building, I saw you guys outside and followed you,” Harry explained.

“Those weasels! They never told me about any map! I’m their brother!” Ron exclaimed, a bit annoyed.

“But Harry isn’t going to keep it. He’s going to turn it over to Professor McGonagall, right?” Hermione prompted him in a swotty tone.

“Oh, sure! Have him turn this over along with the invisibility cloak?” Ron challenged, the sarcasm dripping from his voice like honey off a spoon. Hermione was poised and ready to snap a retort back when Harry cut in between their banter, concern lacing his tone.

“You aren’t going to tell on me, are you, Hermione?”

“Oh… no, of course not, Harry,” Hermione assured him. Despite her hesitation, the boys visibly relaxed after her promise.

“Good, now that this is all settled… Let’s move on to the important things and show Harry around Hogsmeade!” Draco suggested.

“But… Harry, you really shouldn’t have broken the rules. It’s not safe!” Hermione reminded everyone.

“Come off it, Hermione. It’s the last weekend before Christmas. Let Harry have a little fun!” Ron said, trying to placate the witch. The boys all seemed to collectively sigh in relief when they saw Hermione reluctantly nod her head.

“Speaking of, I have some information,” Draco informed the group, “Let’s talk on our way back to the village.”

The quartet made it into town by the time Draco finished relaying what his mother had revealed. The blond thought the news would be a comfort, but Harry looked even more disturbed, if anything.

“So, Sirius Black was a close friend of my father? But it doesn’t explain how he became a murderer?” Harry questioned.

“No idea, mate. But maybe we can talk more about it over a butterbeer!” Ron said, pointing to the Three Broomsticks.

“Oh, in for knut out for a galleon,” Hermione muttered before turning to face Harry, “Ron’s right. Besides, we wouldn’t be very good accomplices if you came to Hogsmeade and didn’t get to try a butterbeer. Come on then.”

She led the gang towards a table in the back of the pub where she made Harry sit in the dark corner and keep the hood of his jumper up over his hair. Ron had just gotten back from the bar and set four tumblers down on the table. He raised one of the glasses high into the air and then cleared his throat.

“Alright, I propose a toast! To Harry’s first time in Hogsmeade…”

Hermione shushed him, “Not so loud, Ron!”

Ron continued, “and to friendship. May we always have each other’s backs!”

“Here, here!” Draco agreed, clinking everyone’s glasses.

Hermione rolled her eyes but still took a large swig of her drink. When she pulled the tumbler away from her mouth, Draco had to hide the chuckle bubbling in his throat with a cough when he saw that she had a line of foam across the top of her lip.

“Well, what do you think, Harry?” Ron asked eagerly.

Harry had a huge smile on his face when he set the drink down, “It’s… warm and sweet! I’ve never really had anything like it before, but it does kind of remind me of a muggle fizzy drink.”

“I thought the same thing,” Hermione agreed.

“What’s that?” Draco asked.

Hermione was about to explain what a soft drink was when Ron quieted everyone, “On your 6! Madam Rosmerta with McGonagall and Flitwick!”

“Who’s in the bowler hat?” Harry whispered.

“Oh Merlin, that’s the Minister of Magic!” Draco hissed, causing Hermione to push Harry under the table before casting a charm on the Christmas Tree next to their table. The fir moved over a meter and grew several inches so that its branches were covering the Gryffindors from the unsuspected adults. As the wizards and witches all took a seat at the table next to them, Ron mouthed not to make a sound.

“Ah, Madam Rosmerta! Lovely to see you, my dear. How is business?” Cornelius Fudge, the Minister, asked the barkeeper.

Draco peaked through the branches to see her setting some drinks down on the table, “It would be a whole heck of a lot better if the Ministry wasn’t sending Dementors into my pub every other night.”

“We have a killer on the loose,” Fudge tried to soothe the witch, but she just rolled her eyes.

“Sirius Black? In Hogsmeade! What would bring him here?” Rosmerta asked in a defiant tone. 

McGonagall motioned for the barkeeper to lean down so the older witch could whisper into her ear. Madam Rosmerta suddenly reared her head back in disbelief, “Harry Potter?

Fudge and McGonagall shushed the witch at the same time Flitwick conjured a chair over for Rosmerta to sit and join them in the discussion. Draco leaned a little closer to hear as the barkeeper dropped her voice, “Now, tell me what this is all about.”

McGonagall angled her body towards Rosmerta, her face serious like she was about to give a difficult lecture, “Years ago, when the Potters realized they were marked for death, they went into hiding. Few knew where they were, but only one did. Sirius Black. He was the Potter’s secret keeper, and he told You-Know-Who!”

“That’s not even the half of it,” Fudge said gruffly.

“You know, I remember Black when he was a boy at Hogwarts. He was the last person I would have suspected going dark like he did,” Rosmerta stated, her eyes shown complete shock. After hearing that, Draco raised his eyebrow at Hermione, who only shrugged her shoulders before they returned to eavesdropping on the conversation.

“Not only did Black led him to the Potters that night, but he also killed Peter Pettigrew!” the Minister added.

“Peter Pettigrew?” the barkeeper asked in disbelief.

“Yes, a little lump of a boy that always tailed after Sirius and James,” McGonagall said.

“Oh, now I remember! Those boys were always so protective of him,” Rosmerta recalled, waving for McGonagall to continue.

“Pettigrew tried to warn the Potters and might have, had he not run into an old friend, Sirius Black!”

“Black was vicious!” Fudge said. He took another swig of his mead, “He didn’t just kill Pettigrew. He destroyed him! All that they found of him at the scene that night was a finger. Nothing else. Now, that’s classified, my dear. The Auror’s report was never officially released to the public.”

McGonagall nodded before finishing off the story, “Sirius Black may not have put a hand on the Potter’s, but he is the reason they’re dead!”

“And now he wants to finish what he started,” Flitwick added after taking a sip of his cherry syrup with soda.

“Oh, I don’t believe it!” Rosmerta objected.

“All the witnesses were muggles, who, of course, had their memories confiscated,” Fudge explained.

“I was part of the voluntary team that found Black the day after,” Flitwick said, “He said he almost killed all those muggles because he was so ‘overcome with grief’ over James’s and Lily’s death. Hmph.” 

“That’s not the worst of it!” Fudge said conspiratorial, leaning a bit closer, “According to the Potter’s Will, Sirius Black remains to this day as Harry Potter’s godfather!”

The children were stunned into silence as they listened to the table talk some more. Rosmerta was asking some follow-up questions about how Black was responsible. Flitwick described something called a Fidelius Charm and the role of the Secret Keeper until they finally left the pub to head back to the castle. From under the table, Harry slowly brought himself upright to face the light of the pub. Draco was at a loss for words. Hermione’s heart was breaking when she saw her friend’s face. Harry looked grief-stricken and had tears pooling in the corner of his eyes.

“Harry?” Ron tried to comfort the dark-haired wizard, but the boy shook off his hand and muttered something along the lines of needing to get back to the secret passageway.

After Harry disappeared under the invisibility cloak and took off, Draco, Ron, and Hermione decided to head back to the castle. When Draco and Ron got back to the boy’s dormitory, they found Harry on his bed crying with a photo album open in front of him. Draco recognized it as the gift Hagrid gave the boy who lived at the end of their first year at Hogwarts.

“Harry? What’s wrong?” the blond wizard asked tentatively.

“He was their best friend, and he betrayed them!” Harry cried, pointing at a wedding picture.

Draco turned the album and saw a picture of a redheaded woman in a white dress, which he assumed was Harry’s mother, and a man that looked almost exactly like Harry standing next to her. To the right of Harry’s father was another man who had medium curly, black hair and a slight stubble along his jawline.

“Is that…” Ron trailed off when he saw Draco nodding his head.

Harry furiously wiped his tears off his cheeks as anger quickly filled his eyes, “I hope he finds me.”

“What? Mate, what are you saying?” Ron questioned, concerned.

“Because when Black finds me, I’m going to be ready. When he does, I’m going to kill him,” Harry proclaimed, the hatred seeping from his voice.

Chapter Text

Harry was distant with everyone until right before the school broke for Christmas. No one mentioned Sirius Black, and no one discussed the proverbial hippogriff in the room, which was the contradicting tales between the professors and Narcissa Malfoy. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were electing to stay at the school over the two-week break, but Draco was unfortunately summoned back to the manor for the vacation. He said goodbye to Ron and Harry in the Common Room, but Hermione wanted to walk down to the carriages with him.

"Will you be alright?" she asked as she lightly gnawed on her bottom lip, a sign she was worried.

"Right as Circe," Draco joked, getting her to smile.

"Be serious," she pleaded, "I can't help think about all the things that could go wrong. If not with your father, then Sirius Black…."

"Hermione…" Draco groaned.

"I know we haven't talked about it… and to be honest, I have been so focused on my courses…."

"You mean what we overheard at the pub a few weeks ago?" Draco clarified.

Hermione nodded, "I'm not sure what to believe."

"Neither am I," Draco responded, "And to think, he's a part of my family, and I know nothing about him."

"Maybe going back to the manor won't be a bad thing. Maybe, you could search it and find some more clues. Just because the family disowned Black doesn't mean that all record of who he was could be completely gone," Hermine theorized.

"I can look around and see. Our attic might have some old records…." Draco pondered when another idea suddenly struck him, "Maybe you can convince Harry to talk to Hagrid and see what he knows."

Hermione looked at Draco confused, "Why would Hagrid know anything about Sirius Black?"

"Harry showed you the pictures of his parents in his album, yeah?" he continued when he saw Hermione nodded, "Didn't Harry tell us that Hagrid had to contact old friends of his parents to get those photos? That means he possibly knew Black, or at the very least, you could get names of people who were acquainted with him."

"That's… brilliant! It might even confirm one of the versions we have been hearing! Because… and I hate to say it… if Black wasn't the one that betrayed Harry's parents…."

"Then someone else involved did," Draco finished.

Hermione looked deflated, "I just hope Harry doesn't feel like we are going behind his back."

Draco shook his head, "I don't think he'll take it that way, but we need to be careful, especially in how we bring it up to him."

"Agreed," Hermione said at the same time Filch was making the last call for students heading to the Hogsmeade station. Quickly, Hermione hugged him and wished him a Happy Christmas before she retreated to the Common Room.

___________________

Draco was relieved when he got home to find out that his father was out of the country on business. He would be gone up until Christmas Eve, which was perfect for Draco as he set off to explore different rooms in the manor. His first thought was to access the attic, which after two days of searching proved to be unsuccessful. His next idea was to try and search his father's office, which unfortunately was warded and locked. Draco tried his mother's study on a whim, but he was caught quickly by the ever-perceptive Narcissa Malfoy, who easily saw through Draco's lie and chastised him for snooping. Draco retreated to the library, feeling deflated when he found a quiet corner to plop down in a reading chair.

Every room he thought would have stored records about Sirius Black had been a bust. He was feeling angry and discouraged when he started kicking the bookshelf closest to his foot. The impact caused one of the books to fall off the shelf and land open on the floor. Rolling his eyes, Draco slowly got off the chair and reached over to pick up the book when he noticed something tucked between the pages falling out. It was a picture of a younger Narcissa who was holding a newborn baby. Behind her was another woman that was crying and cooing over the bundle in his mother's arms. The unknown woman looked similar to his mother with wide kind eyes but had light brown hair instead of the pronounced blonde coloring of his mother's locks. Draco's eyes widened when he flipped the photograph over and read the inscription on the back:

Andromeda meeting her nephew, Draco- 1980

Draco dropped the picture, gasping when he realized that this was the first image he had seen of his banished aunt! Narcissa obviously had been in contact with his aunt long after Grandmother Druella had kicked the middle Black sister out of the family for being a blood traitor. Did his father know about their relationship? He must not have if he tried to keep Draco from learning about her, and talking about her disownment was forbidden. So, why still keep it a secret after You-know-who was killed? Or even after Grandmother Druella died? How many more skeletons in the closet was his mother holding from him?

"Draco? Are you in here, darling? Dinner will be ready soon!" Narcissa called from the library entrance.

Scrambling to sit up, Draco pocketed the photo and quickly put the book back on the shelf just before Narcissa came around the corner.

"Oh! Great! What are we having?" Draco casually asked.

Narcissa raised an eyebrow, "What we have every Christmas Eve. Roasted Duck."

"Sounds good! I'll just go get changed real fast," Draco said, sprinting out the door.

He hurried through his wing and slammed his bedroom door. Leaning up against the frame, Draco pulled out the picture again and stared at the faces now smiling up at him. It was unbelievable for him to fathom that his mother continued to have a relationship with his disowned aunt!  Maintaining that must have been incredibly risky, but leave it to his cunning mother to find a way to preserve her family. Aunt Andromeda must have meant a great deal to her if she was willing to lie to his father. Was she still in contact with her? Could Draco possibly meet her? They were questions that would have to wait for the time being, for Draco was expected to be in the formal dining room any minute. Filing the information away, Draco hid the picture in the bottom of his school trunk before turning to the task of mentally preparing himself to deal with his father.

_________________________

Surprisingly, the rest of Christmas break was a quiet affair, which only made Draco more suspicious of any motives his father might have had, especially since the man had gifted his son a new broomstick. At first, Draco was wary of the unexpected gift. He was very grateful for the sleek Nimbus 2001 that replaced his lost Comet Two-Sixty. However, the young Gryffindor was smart enough to understand that there would be a price to pay. Unlike Narcissa, who offered everything she had freely, Lucius's love was never unconditional and very much transactional. He never gave with altruistic motives and, in return, expected something of equal or greater measure. This expectation was not foreign to Draco, which is why his hypervigilance had been running nonstop until he stepped back onto the Hogwarts Express and the train had long left the London station.

His journey was long and boring, having had to sit by himself with only his thoughts. Occasionally, Draco would pull out the picture and stare at it for indeterminable amounts of time as if he was mesmerized by the smiling women. There were so many questions he wanted to ask his mother. How many times have you met up with her? Do you know my cousin? My uncle? Why couldn't you trust me to keep this a secret? Will I ever get to meet my aunt?

Another thought that plagued him was how he would keep this information locked away from Snape during their next Occlumency lesson? Draco practiced his mental exercises for the rest of the ride until the train finally pulled in to Hogsmeade station, and he was reunited with his friends at the house table. While Harry was talking about practicing a Patronus Charm with Lupin over the break, Draco immediately noticed the tension between the group. Hermione was not looking at either of the boys and stayed hyper-focused on the book in her lap. Ron made passive-aggressive comments and kept skidding around what was wrong between the group when Draco couldn't take it anymore.

"Alright. Out with it! What happened over the break that is causing all three of you to act weird?"

Startled, Hermione looked up from the page she was reading, "I don't know what you mean, Draco."

"That's dung, and you know it, Hermione. I can tell Harry and Ron are mad, and you are avoiding looking at them. So, I'm deducing a fight of some kind broke out," Draco hypothesized.

"Fine, you want to know? Hermione is a snitch," Ron huffed.

"I am not! I was just concern…" Hermione tried to defend herself, but Ron cut her off.

"Save the excuses, Hermione. You told McGonagall, and now Harry got his broom taken away," Ron argued.

"What broom?" Draco asked in a severe tone.

"Someone gave me a Firebolt for Christmas, but there was no note," Harry clarified.

"And Hermione got the crazy idea that it might have been from Sirius Black and went and told McGonagall about it after we made her promise not to!" Ron snapped.

"I never promised!" Hermione quipped.

"Stop! Stop!" Draco interjected before Ron could say something hateful, "While I agree with you that it's a bit out there that the broom was from Sirius Black, it is not completely out of the realm of possibilities. Regardless of who it was from, Hermione was right to report it."

Ron was about to say more when Draco shot him a look that made the redhead quickly snap his mouth shut. Satisfied that Ron wasn't going to interrupt, Draco turned to Harry, "Not knowing who it was from means that it could have come from anywhere. Which means the broom could have been jinxed or even cursed. Had you taken the time to think about that, you might have realized there is possibly more than one dark wizard or witch out there that could have been working with Black and knew you lost a broom."

"Which is what I was trying to tell both of you, and neither of you would listen!" Hermione said, exasperated.

Harry lowered his head, sufficiently chastised for his attitude regarding the whole situation, and mumbled, "Sorry, Hermione."

Ron's anger simmered a little bit after hearing Harry's apology. There was a moment of silence that was eventually broken by Harry elbowing Ron in the ribs.

"Ouch!" Ron cried out, rubbing his side before he turned to Hermione. "Yeah, sorry."

Hermione let out a breath, "Apologizes both accepted."

"Good, now that we are back to normal… I have a theory of who sent you the broom, Harry," Draco stated.

"Who?" Harry questioned, his head whipping up at the news.

"My father," Draco replied, "He also gifted me a broom for Christmas. A Nimbus 2001."

"Blimey! What an upgrade! Gryffindor is going to give Hogwarts the comeback of the century!" Ron exclaimed.

"Have you not been listening?" Draco lowered his voice, "Let's use logic here for a second and see if you can put two and two together. My father was a death eater. Harry and I both lose our brooms and then happen to get replacement ones for Yule?"

"And not cheap ones either," Harry added, "Those are the most expensive brooms on the market."

"And Sirius Black wouldn't have the funds to buy a Firebolt, but Lucius Malfoy would!" Ron agreed.

"You really think he bought and cursed two brooms? To what end? Kill you both?" Hermione asked, her tone skeptical.

"I don't know, which is why I haven't ridden it. I was going to see Lupin after dinner and ask him to run a diagnostic on it," Draco explained.

"You can't do that!" Ron declared abruptly, "Lupin will confiscate it like McGonagall did for Harry's."

"Then what do you suggest? Draco can't ride it without checking it first, and the four of us aren't qualified enough," Hermione said.

Ron looked at the group with a smug expression, "My brother Bill just so happens to be a curse breaker."

Draco laughed, "Is there a skill set the Weasleys don't possess?"

Ron chuckled in response before continuing, "I'll write Bill in Egypt and see if he can visit during our next Hogsmeade weekend. We just need to find a place for him to look at it."

"I already know! The Hog Heads Inn! It's out of the way, and hardly anyone goes there. It will basically be deserted," Hermione offered.

"Brilliant! If Harry could let me borrow Hedwig, I'll owl him tonight," Ron said.

After dinner, Ron and Harry walked together to the owlery while Draco pulled Hermione into an abandoned classroom to show her the picture.

"This is your aunt?" Hermione asked, pointing at people in the picture, "And this is you and... Oh, your Mum is lovely." 

Draco chuckled at the compliment before launching into an explanation, "Yeah, Andromeda was the one that my grandmother disowned for being a blood traitor, but it wasn't just as simple as writing her out of the will or whatnot. My grandmother blasted her off of the family tapestry and acted like she was never born. The woman refused to talk about her."

"That's so sad! It blows my mind that family would cast one another off like that. I couldn't imagine the pain she must have gone through. Though I must admit, she's gorgeous. I can see the resemblance between her and your mother," Hermione commented.

Draco smiled wistfully, "I would have liked to have known her."

"Maybe you still can?" Hermione suggested.

Draco raised an eyebrow in confusion, "How so?"

"You could write her!" Hermione explained, "Reconnect. If anything, I bet Andromeda would know something about Sirius Black. Wouldn't it be safe to assume if they were both exiled from the Black family that he would have gone to her for help?"

"That's… Hermione, it won't work. I have no idea where she lives!" Draco exclaimed. 

Hermione rolled her eyes, "That's what a location spell is for."

"I… a what?" Draco asked.

"I was reading ahead and came across it in a text of advanced charms. All we need is this picture, a quill, and some parchment," Hermione explained.

"That's it?" Draco questioned.

"That's all I need! The spell will give the current location of the people in the photo at the time it is cast. I'll check out the book tomorrow, and we can begin working on it as soon as possible. In the meantime, you might want to think about what you are going to say," Hermione smiled.

Elated, Draco gave Hermione a fierce hug and thanked her for her help. He hadn't realized how much it taxed him to be away from Hermione until just this moment. Guilt swiftly crept in when he realized that she had spent most of her break in a disagreement with Ron and Harry.

"I'm sorry for how you spent the holiday," Draco whispered.

"It's okay," Hermione sighed, "Ron is closer to Harry than I am, so it is only natural that Harry would side with him. Especially since both of them feel like I was the bad guy for doing the right thing."

"You aren't, though! You possibly saved Harry's life, and both of them see that now," Draco affirmed.

Hermione chuckled, "You would think, but I'm just a silly girl with her nose stuck in a book."

"Well…" Draco trailed off a little bit, not sure how to respond, "I don't think you are just a silly girl, and my nose is mostly stuck in a book too, so there's that!"

Hermione's laugh echoed off the walls in the empty classroom, the jovial sound causing Draco's grin to widen. The expression stayed on his face until his exhausted body finally hit his bed, and he closed his eyes for the night.

______________________________

It was a blessing from Circe that the first Hogsmeade weekend would be before the Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw Quidditch match. Since Harry was staying behind with Lupin to get more private lessons on how to cast a charm to fend off the dementors, the boy who lived let Draco borrow the invisibility cloak so that they could sneak the broom through the village.

"We have been walking for ages! Where is this place again, Hermione?" Ron complained.

"It's on the other end of town," she replied.

"So far away!" Ron moaned in annoyance.

"At least we won't get caught," Hermione reminded him.

When the aforementioned place came into view (which Hermione noted by pointing out the large, worn-out sign shaped like a boar's head), Draco became mildly skeptical about meeting the eldest Weasley. The ambiance validated these feelings as soon as the trio stepped inside. Compared to the Three Broomsticks, the Hogs Head was significantly smaller and dirtier but deserted as the young witch promised.

"Why does it smell like a goat in here?" Ron asked, waving his hand in front of his nose.

"That would be because there is one over there in the corner," Draco indicated.

"Oh, knock it off, you two! It's not that bad," Hermione hissed quietly, "Besides, my reading said this was the headquarters for the Goblin Rebellion of 1612."

"Ah! So, a place that looks as ancient as its history. Why am I not surprised," Ron quipped.

Hermione was about to make another retort when Draco cut in, "Let's just find a table and wait for your brother."

"I'll get drinks," Hermione offered and walked up to the bar, "Hello, may we have three Butterbeers, please?"

A scruffy-looking man with a scowl looked up at her as he cleaned a glass with a dirty rag. He stared down at the young Gryffindor for a few seconds before snapping "One moment" and handing her three tumblers.

"Err… thanks," Hermione replied, leaving the sickles on the bar. When she got back to the table, she whispered, "I wouldn't drink these if I were you."

Ron was inspecting his glass while Draco silently nodded and agreed with Hermione's assessment for, he saw specs of dirt floating inside the mug.

"When did you say your brother was going to be here?" Hermione asked Ron.

"Should be any moment now," Ron said, "Bill's the oldest out of all of us."

As if his name were a taboo, Bill Weasley strolled into the bar with a practiced swag in his step and an easy smile. Draco noted that the family resemblance between him and Ron was uncanny with the same eyes, nose, and signature red hair, which the elder Weasley wore long and in a ponytail. Bill was tall, muscular, and dressed in light linen with Dragonhide boots that were not appropriate for the weather in England. Though he was a little dirty, the man still acted like a gentleman as he greeted the bartender first, followed by some light conversation before walking over to the table where the third years were waiting.

"Hey, Bill! It's good to see you," Ron hugged and greeted his brother much the same way he did with Charlie in their first year.

"Likewise, Ron. Sorry, I'm late. I had to take care of a mummy first before I could floo into the ministry. Before we get into this cursed object you mentioned in your letter, why don't you introduce me to your friends and then I'll take a look at your problem," Bill said.

"This is Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. He's the one with the broom I mentioned," Ron explained.

"Ah! So, you think it's cursed? Well, I can certainly run some diagnostics and see what we're working with. Have you touched it at all?" Bill asked as he pulled out his wand.

"Oh… Yes, a few times," Draco admitted sheepishly.

Bill raised his eyebrow, "And you haven't noticed any side effects just from touching it? What about flying? Does it jerk you or disobey commands in the air?"

"No, I haven't tried to ride it yet," Draco confirmed.

Bill's questions stopped for the moment as he focused on his spell casting to ascertain what was possibly wrong with Draco's broom. The three silently watched as the elder Weasley continued to work. Hermione was fascinated by the runes Bill was summoning as she mumbled to herself some of the characters. After about five minutes or so, Bill lowered his wand with a puzzled look on his face, "Well, from what I can tell… there doesn't appear to be anything wrong with your broom. It's a standard Nimbus model: longer bristles, larger stirrups, and a slightly flexible handle. What position do you play, Draco?"

"I'm the sub, but I played chaser in the last game," the blond wizard explained.

Bill nodded his head, "Ah, then this is a good choice for you. It's a fast but versatile broom. As long as you maintain and replace the bristles every few years, then this should last you a long time and not develop the drag the series is known for."

Draco smiled, "Yeah, so the broom is, okay? I'm not going to die if I get on it."

"At least not a death by a curse," Bill chuckled.

"As much of a relief as that is to hear, I'm sorry you had to come all this way for nothing," Draco said, "Thank you, though, for making the time."

Bill smiled, "Anything for family, but do be careful! I hate to run, but I really do need to get back to the tombs. Muggle Archeologist discovered a new chamber, and the curse breakers have to go in before anything unsavory happens."

The three children waved goodbye to the elder Weasley and made their way back through the village.

"See! I knew there wasn't anything wrong with the broom! I bet you Harry's broom wasn't cursed either," Ron bragged.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "It's better to be safe than sorry."

"I'm heading back to the castle," Draco interjected, not in the mood to facilitate another argument between the two friends.

"Sounds good, mate! I think I'm going to meet Neville, Dean, and Seamus at the Three Broomsticks," Ron informed the two.

Hermione took the opportunity to follow Draco back to the castle, where she finally got the chance to tell him what they discovered during their visit with Hagrid over the holiday. She told him about how Hagrid saved baby Harry the night Voldemort killed Harry's parents. Black tried to take Harry, but Hagrid escaped on a magical motorcycle. While the news was shocking to Draco, it still didn't prove one story over the other, just that Black was at the scene.

"We need more information," Draco finally said, "Do you think you could perform the locator spell today?"

"Yes! Of course! I'm sorry, I've just had so much reading and revisions to do…."

"It's okay, Hermione. Although…I am a bit concerned with how many courses you are taking. Have you considered dropping one or two?"

Hermione looked scandalized, "Absolutely not!"

“Honestly, love! The books alone are going to break your back. You should at least let me cast a feather light charm on your bag,” Draco offered.

“That would be nice,” Hermione lamented.

"But you could also just drop a few subjects. Seriously, why do you need to take Muggle Studies? You probably could teach that topic better than the professor!" Draco debated.

"But it's so fascinating to learn about it from a purely wizard perspective!" she paused for a moment as her face looked a bit crestfallen, "Even if the course is largely outdated and mostly talks about muggles as if they are wild animals."

"And I know you despise Divination," Draco reminded and hoped the change in the topic would aid in his persuasion.

She grimaced, "But I can't give up! If I drop the course, then she wins. Now, stop interrogating me about my schedule and meet me in the girl's bathroom with some parchment and a quill."

Draco, much to his dismay, stopped prying into Hermione's course load. His nerves had calmed a bit when he realized his new broom wasn't cursed, but they reignited with the prospect that in less than an hour, he would be able to write his aunt for the first time in his life.

_______________________________

It had been a week since Draco sent the letter to his Aunt Andromeda, and so far, he had not received a response. While it was disheartening, he was distracted by other dramas. For starters, Harry snuck out at night and got the Marauders Map confiscated by Lupin after first being caught by Snape. When questioned why he was roaming the halls by himself at night, the dark-haired wizard swore he saw Peter Pettigrew's name! Everyone dismissed the claim, causing Harry to admit they were right and the Map was wrong. To add more to the proverbial cauldron, Ron was relentless in his boasting that Harry's Firebolt had checked out and was not cursed. This ultimately meant Harry was able to fly and use the broom in the Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor match. Although Draco did not play in this round, Harry was brilliant and faster than the Ravenclaw seeker, Cho Chang. Gryffindor was having a great night celebrating the win until Ron came barreling down the stairs and started screaming at Hermione.

"I TOLD YOU TO KEEP THAT DEMON OF A CAT LOCKED UP! HE ATE MY RAT! SCABBERS IS GONE, AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!"

"Stop shouting! What's the matter with…." Hermione yelled back but stopped when Ron threw several large ginger hair strands on the table next to her.

"YOUR CAT ATE SCABBERS! BLOOD! BLOOD EVERYWHERE ON THE FLOOR!"

"Oh, of course! It's all my fault!" Hermione raised her hands in the air, exasperated.

"Mate, you need to calm down!" Draco said firmly, stepping in between Ron and Hermione.

"I WILL NOT! I TOLD YOU, HERMIONE! I TOLD YOU TO KEEP YOUR BLOODY CAT AWAY FROM HIM AND NOW LOOK WHAT'S HAPPENED!"

"Harry, a little help…." Draco pleaded.

"I mean… if you look at the evidence…." Harry stated unhelpfully.

Hermione's eyes, which were pooling with tears, now started to drip down her cheeks, "Okay, fine! Side with Ron! You always do, Harry. First the Firebolt, and now this! I'm tired of being blamed for everything and don't have time for this! Just leave me alone!"

Draco's shoulders slumped as he watched Hermione run away. When she was up the stairs, and he heard the faint sound of the door to the girl's dormitory slam shut, Draco sharply turned and glared at Ron, "You had no right, Weasley!"

"No, right?!?" Ron's face was red as a tomato, and he looked ready to punch Draco.

"Yes! Hermione didn't do anything wrong, and she's not the only person who bloody owns a cat! There are LOADS of feline familiars that roam around Hogwarts, and any one of them could have eaten Scabbers. It is in their nature to chase after rats! A rat, mind you, that YOU did not bother to take care of. Maybe instead of blaming Hermione for your faults, you should learn to take better care of your pets."

Harry's jaw dropped as he watched Draco storm after Hermione. It appeared the golden quartet had split up for the time being, and the friendship was nowhere close to any sort of reconciliation.

Draco stood in front of the third-year girl's dormitory door and gave a light knock, "Hermione… It's me. Can you please come out and talk?"

He patiently waited until he heard Hemione's shuffling steps, and eventually, the door clicked open. She emerged with tear-stained cheeks and red, puffy eyes. Draco gently grabbed her wrist and led her to a window seal, where they both curled up and sat together.

"It's not your fault," Draco whispered as he made tiny, soothing circles around her pulse point.

"I know…" Hermione's reply was under her breath that Draco had to strain to hear it, "but the blame still hurts."

She leaned her head back and nuzzled onto Draco's shoulder as he continued to comfort her. The two sat there in silence for a while until Hermione finally spoke, "I figured something out about Professor Lupin. I was going to tell you all tonight, but then…."

"What is it?" Draco asked.

"Lupin's a werewolf," Hermione revealed.

"I'm sorry, but it sounded very much like you just said our Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor is a werewolf," Draco repeated back in disbelief.

Hermione nodded, "Hmm… I figured it out the day Snape assigned the essay. I was doing my astronomy chart and realized that Lupin is always absent during the full moon. And then when Harry told us about the potion that Snape was brewing for him every month…."

"Wolfsbane! It's very complicated and expensive to brew, but it will help keep a wolf sane during the transformation," Draco added in awe.

"Do you think this will change anything?" Hermione asked, "Should we tell someone?"

Draco shook his head, "Nah… if Dumbledore thought Lupin was okay to hire and wouldn't endanger the students, then I don't see why we need to expose him to the entire school. Even Professors are entitled to their privacy."

Hermione smiled, "That's very wise and kind of you to say."

"I will admit it is very peculiar, and I'm curious to know where Lupin transforms," Draco pondered, "Perhaps the Forbidden Forest?"

"I can't think of anywhere else," Hermione agreed, "But that is to say I am not volunteering to go wandering during the next full moon to find out."

"Absolutely not!" Draco affirmed with a slight chuckle, "I think we have reached our quota of near-death experiences for one lifetime."

 The two remained cuddled in the alcove until the late hours of the night when they reluctantly broke apart and retired to their respective dorms. Draco was barely asleep when Ron screamed suddenly at the top of his lungs, waking the entire dorm.

"What the bloody hell now, Weasley?" Dean cried out as he lit the lamps in the circular room. The dark-skinned wizard gasped when he saw Ron shaking in the corner next to his torn curtains, barely hanging off his four-poster bed.

"Sh… Sir… Sirius Black!" Ron stuttered.

"What is all this commotion?!?" Percy's voice boomed as he entered the dormitory. The head boy also paled when he saw the evidence of an attack around Ron's bed and heard the wanted murderer's name once again tumble from Ron's mouth.

"Everyone down to the Common Room this instant!" Percy ordered, "Sir Nicholas! Please wake Professor McGonagall and tell her to come to the Gryffindor Tower immediately."

Everyone woke and crowded into the Gryffindor Common Room, nervously whispering as they waited for their head of house to inspect the damage done to the third-year boy's dormitory. McGonagall's face was grim when she came back down the stairs, "Sir Cadogan, did anyone suspicious enter the Common Room at this late hour?"

"Aye, ma'am! Sirius Black!" the Knight replied.

McGonagall gasped, "You mean to tell me that you let a wanted criminal… waltz right on in to freely attack a student?"

"Aye, ma'am. He had the password," Sir Cadogan replied, his expression that of one who was impressed, "Even had the whole weeks' worth written on a piece of scrap paper."

All eyes turned to Neville Longbottom, who instantly turned white as a ghost as McGonagall glared dagger eyes at the young Gryffindor.

"Rest in Peace, Neville," Fred said under his breath to no one in particular.

Chapter Text

Security tightened significantly after the attack. Patrol Trolls were posted throughout the corridors both night and day, diligently watching the students traverse between classes, meals, and their Common Rooms. The Headmaster also put a stricter curfew in place, which shortened Quidditch practice and made Oliver Wood quite testy to be around. The only shining light out of all the events had been that Ron and Hermione ended their feud and forgiven one another over the dead rat. While Draco and Harry watched Ron and Hermione hug it out, the blond wizard turned to his friend to voice a disturbing thought.

 “Should we be concerned that we only make up once a life and death situation occurs?”

 Harry chuckled but only shrugged his shoulders in response. After that, things went back to relatively normal for the group until the day Draco had gotten a reply back from Andromeda.

              My dear nephew,

Firstly, let me open with an apology for responding so long after your initial letter. In all honesty, I was shocked to have received your correspondence and then impressed by your friend’s ingenuity with performing such advanced magic for her age. It touches my heart to know that you have gone through great lengths to contact me.

Two parts of me are in conflict with one another, which is also why I took my time crafting this response. Make no mistake; I am beyond ecstatic to hear from you and learn that you want to reconnect, but another part of me fears for the consequences you might endure from such a pursuit. I am quite familiar with Lucius’s character and the type of company he keeps, which is why I am confident in my assumption you are writing me without his knowledge, nor his permission.

You have correctly deduced that we have kept in contact since my disownment and that Lucius does not know about our relationship. Though the distance has been trying, our bond has remained strong over the years. When I held you in my arms the first time, I knew I loved you instantly. Your mother’s greatest wish was that I become your Godmother, but instead, Severus Snape was named your guardian. I apologize if that is news for you, but you should know the truth.

To answer the question that you so… bluntly posed to me, Sirius was a loyal man and would have died for the ones he loved. What I know about the boy in school and the man he became conflicts with the Daily Prophet’s narrative of what happened that fateful night. While he is still a relative of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black, Sirius has been accused of horrendous crimes, even if he never did receive a trial and Dumbledore never fought for his day in court. You should not, I repeat NOT, go looking for Sirius. Please keep yourself and your friends out of this situation.

I will close this letter with a plea that comes from myself and your mother. The fact that Cissy and I communicate is not common knowledge, and for our safety, you must keep this confidential. Lucius and his acquaintances would do… unspeakable things to your mother and my family if he found out. Now that you know about me, I trust that you will do everything you can to protect those you love.

I hope that we can all one day convene together so that I can see the boy you have grown up to be, but only when it is safe to do so. Perhaps this summer? I’m sure your mother will speak to you once your schooling is complete for the year. Until then, please be my intelligent, brave little dragon (Yes, it was I who came up with that nickname for you).

With all my love,

              Your Aunt

Shocking was not an adequate adjective to describe how Draco felt when he received the letter. Astounding or even Life-altering didn’t even scratch the surface when it came to the revelations from his aunt. Not only had he discovered Andromeda wanted to be a part of his life, but she confirmed that Snape was his godfather! How had no one told him this? His former mentor was definitely getting an ear full from him during their next Occlumency lesson. The young Gryffindor’s thoughts were so consumed by recent events that he could barely focus on the Cheering Charm lecture in Charms that day. It was killing him to have to keep this from Harry and Ron, but he couldn’t reveal his findings and the information about Sirius Black just yet. All he wanted to do was speak to Hermione and show her the letter. The only problem was that Hermione did not show up in class that day, nor did she make an appearance at lunch. Her absence was so staggering that even Harry and Ron noticed it. The three made their way to the Gryffindor Common Room and found Hermione asleep over a textbook at the table near the fireplace.

“Hermione,” Draco gently shook her, “Wake up….”

Hermione grumbled a moment before her eyes slowly blinked open, “What time is it?”

“It’s the afternoon,” Harry informed her gently, “We have to go to Divination.”

“What?!?” Hermione sprang up, wide awake and alert as she hurried to pack all her books and rolls of parchment into her bag.

“Yeah… you missed Charms. Are you okay? It’s not like you to accidentally skip class,” Ron said.

“I cannot believe I just did that,” Hermione muttered, ignoring the boys, “Professor Flitwick is going to be so disappointed. Maybe I can talk to him and make the lesson up somehow.”

“Hermione, breathe. It’s going to be alright,” Draco pleaded.

Not listening, she flung her bag over her shoulder and bolted out the portrait hole. The boys sprinted to keep up with her as they followed her to the Divination classroom. Draco and Hermione took a seat at a round table next to Harry and Ron just as Professor Trelawney was starting class.

“The spirits have informed me that we are starting Orb interpretations so that you will have sufficient practice for your examination in June,” the eccentric woman announced.

As the Professor continued to explain different methods for clearing the mind, Hermione turned to Draco and murmured, “The spirits informed her? She’s the teacher! She decides what is on the exam.”

 Draco quietly snorted at her comment. Hermione had come to loathe the Professor throughout the year and ultimately concluded the woman was an absolute nut job with all her theatrics. Draco had to admit it was a tad annoying to have the Professor give Harry a death omen every time they came to class. When the lecture concluded, Draco and Hermione reluctantly leaned over to stare at the cloudy ball in front of them. Out of the corner of his eye, the blond wizard could see that Ron had already fallen asleep and was trying to suppress his laughter at the red head’s snoring.

“Broaden your minds!” Trelawney chastised the students, her voice droning on and on as Draco struggled to stay attentive in the lesson, “The art of crystal gazing is in the clearing of the Inner Eye. Only then can you see. Keep trying… Ah, and what have you two been able to see?”

Hermione shot up her hand at the same time Trelawney lowered herself down to their table, “Do you mind me trying?”

“Ah!” Trelawney encouraged.

“I see the grim,” Hermione replied sarcastically.

Draco’s jaw dropped at Hermione’s out-of-character answer. It wasn’t normal for Hermione to talk back to a teacher like this, even one she vehemently disagreed with daily. Draco wondered what in the world had gotten into her? First, she falls asleep and misses a class, and now this? Had someone Polyjuiced her?

Trelawney just blinked a few times before reaching out to turn Hermione’s hand palm up. Draco watched curiously as the Professor started to click her tongue and point, “My dear, from the first moment you stepped foot in my class, I sensed that you did not possess the proper spirit for the noble art of Divination. No, you see, just there… ah, you may be young in years, but your heart is as shriveled as an old maid’s. While you may seek the love and friendship in others that you have been denied, this will never be obtained so long as your soul remains as dry as the pages of the books to which you so desperately cleave.”

Hermione ripped her hand out of Trelawney’s grasp and knocked the crystal ball off the table before storming out of the classroom. Draco, hurrying to gather his satchel, stopped when he heard Trelawney dramatically ask the class if Hermione’s reaction had to do with something the woman had said.

Draco scowled at the Professor, “Has anyone ever told you that you’re very rude and impersonal?”

“No, my dear,” Trelawney replied in a genuinely shocked tone.

“Well, maybe they should,” Draco declared before he too ran out of the classroom after Hermione.

He found her around the corner, leaning against a wall while holding something small in her hand. Draco was mesmerized by the object for a moment until he saw her turn it counterclockwise. “Hermione! Stop!”

Startled, Hermione dropped the necklace in her hand when Draco crashed into her. Holding onto her tightly, Draco felt like he was flying backward on an unbalanced broom. Wind pounded in his ears as he watched the corridor around him transform into a swirl of shapes and colors. In a matter of seconds, his vision cleared, and movement suddenly ceased. Draco lost his balance and reached out with his hands to catch himself from falling on his face.

“What… What just happened?” he stuttered, trying to gain his bearings.

“I can’t believe you just did that! Draco! How could you?” Hermione yelled. Furious with him, she hit him a couple of times in the arm with her textbook.

“Ouch!” Draco cried out, rubbing his left tricep, “What was that for?”

“Do you realize the trouble we could get into? If someone sees you…” she trailed off, looking around frantically until she spotted a door. Marching with determination, Hermione yanked it open to reveal a small, dusty broom closet.

“Hermione! What is going on?” Draco restated.

“Get in! Draco! You need to hide before someone sees you,” Hermione urged, waving him over. 

Draco straightened his stance, “I most certainly am not hiding in there until I get some answers.”

Hermione pursed her lips, “Draco Lucius Malfoy, if you do not get in this broom cupboard this instant….”

“Oh, ho ho? Using my middle name, are we? Well, If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to either snog me or murder me,” he teased.

Her cheeks turned red as she let out a frustrated breath, “Right now, it’s the latter.” When Draco still refused to budge, she continued in a severe tone, “I promise I’ll explain everything, but right now, I am late to Arithmancy, and I can’t have you wandering around. You could mess up the timeline and get yourself thrown into Azkaban for the rest of your life. Draco, I am begging you… Please just hide here for an hour until I come and get you.”

Draco huffed, “Fine, but only because I don’t want to go to jail.”

With a slam of the closet door, Draco resigned himself to waiting for Hermione to return and made a seat on the ground. The hour of anticipating her arrival ticked by slowly until she finally reopened the door and shut herself inside next to him.

“Took you long enough,” he said in a terse tone, “Now, will you explain what happened to us and why I had to hide in this hole?”

Carefully, Hermione pulled out the gold necklace from earlier. It was shaped like a round disc and had a small hourglass filled with white sand in the center. The rings connected around the disc had a runic spell inscribed that Draco couldn’t quite make out.

“This is a TimeTurner,” she explained, “Remember when McGonagall needed to see me during the Welcome Feast? It’s because she gave me this to use and get to all my courses.”

Draco’s jaw dropped, “You mean to tell me… that the Ministry of Magic let you use a TimeTurner, an actual TimeTurner so that you could take more classes? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have helped… I don’t know… taken notes for you? Covered for you to Harry and Ron? You do know they aren’t as oblivious as you believe them to be.”

“I know… I was a bit surprised as well that the Ministry permitted me the use of one,” Hermione admitted, “But I was sworn to secrecy and promised I would only use it for my lessons. That’s why I couldn’t confide in you. It’s been killing me to keep this secret from you guys all year! And even though I feel guilty about you finding out, I also feel liberated that someone knows!”

Draco’s anger quickly deflated at her explanation, “It’s okay. If today is the day for finding out secrets, then I need to confess some as well.”

Hermione watched him curiously as Draco pulled out one of Snape’s Occlumency textbooks and the letter from his Aunt Andromeda. After she quickly read it, Hermione gasped, “She knows him! I bet Andromeda knows more than she divulged in the letter.”

Draco nodded, “We need to tell Harry.”

Hermione sighed, “I guess you’re right.”

“After the final Quidditch match,” Draco said, “I don’t want to upset him and risk our chances for the Quidditch Cup.”

“Probably for the best, but what does this textbook have to do with Black?” she asked, changing the topic.

“It doesn’t. I wasn’t supposed to tell you, but after revealing the TimeTurner, I thought it was only fair. Snape has been teaching me Occlumency at the request of my mother. I’ve been spending a night every few weeks down in the Dungeons while he teaches me mental blocking techniques,” Draco explained.

Hermione gaped, “Why?”

“I don’t know my mother’s reasoning, nor did I understand why Snape willingly agreed to help, but after reading Andromeda’s letter….” 

“You didn’t know he was your godfather,” Hermione’s question rang as more of an actualization than an inquiry.

“No, I just assumed he was a family friend, and… obviously, he was my mentor growing up,” Draco rambled quietly.

“And now that you know about Andromeda….” Hermione trailed off, a look of realization on her face.

“Mastering Occlumency has now become more of a priority. I can’t afford to go home during the summer and have my father unknowingly probe my mind,” Draco reasoned. He continued when he saw Hermione’s confusion, “My father is a skilled Legilimens. He can search a person’s mind without them feeling it.”

Fear lit behind Hermione’s eyes that made Draco flinch, “That’s horrible, Draco!”

He shrugged, “It is what it is.”

With a soft smile, she reached over and grabbed hold of Draco’s wrist, making soothing circles on his pulse point, “Everything will be fine. We’ll figure it out. Together!”

Draco returned her smile, “Together.”

____________________

The final Quidditch match of the year was against Slytherin, and it was a showdown for the record books. Even though Draco wasn’t in a starting position, he did get to sub in and play for the last half of the match. Much to his delight and that of his house, Harry caught the snitch right under Theo’s nose. The final score ended up being 250 points for Gryffindor against 240 points for Slytherin.

Lee Jordan was singing the Gryffindor Quidditch team’s praises through the stadium’s speakers while classmates rushed out of the stands to flood the field in celebration. Even McGonagall was overjoyed and started to do a jig in the teacher’s box. For the first time in years, Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup!

The party in the Common Room that night was epic and went on until the early morning hours. Draco was surprised to find he hadn’t passed out from an adrenaline rush between all the sweets, drinks, and music. After everyone had gone to bed, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco found themselves camping out in front of the fireplace when Hermione decided it was time to bring up recent discoveries. She and Draco took turns telling Harry about his Aunt Andromeda and what she revealed in the letter. Harry did not receive the information well.

“I don’t know, Draco. Can you even trust this long-lost Aunt of yours? And take her word over McGonagall’s and Fudge’s accounts?” Harry asked in a harsh tone, “Black may not have murdered my parents, but he is responsible for their deaths.”

“I can’t believe Snape is your godfather! That’s got to be worse than Sirius Black! No offense, mate,” Ron added quickly upon seeing the disapproving glares from his friends.

“It just made me think, Harry, that Hagrid didn’t really provide us a straight answer when we asked him over break,” Hermione said.

“I wanted to try and talk to him and see if he knows my Aunt,” Draco revealed.

“Well, he did ask us to come to visit him tomorrow for afternoon tea. We could go then,” Ron suggested.

“Alright,” Harry agreed, skepticism still coating his tone, “I’m willing to see what else Hagrid has to say.”

__________________

Hermione made it a point to warn Draco that Hagrid would be a blubbering mess when they brought the topic up. Despite the warning, Draco was not prepared for their friend to start crying and mumble incoherently about the night he found Harry.

“Hagrid!” Draco shouted, getting the half-giant to stop the stream of tears that started to puddle on the floor.

“We need you to focus,” Hermione said in a calm tone.

Draco pulled out the letter and handed it to Hagrid, “Do you know my Aunt Andromeda?”

“Know ‘er? ‘course I know ‘er! Andy’s a good witch,” Hagrid declared.

“Can you tell me about her? And what is she implying about Sirius Black in this letter?” Draco asked.

The four students gathered around the table and patiently waited as Hagrid composed himself to tell the story.

“I knew all yer folks when they were in school,” Hagrid revealed, pointing at Draco, Ron, and Harry, “As yeh probably guessed, Arthur and Molly were Gryffindor sweethearts. Completely enamored with one ‘nother and were the darlins’ of Hogwarts.”

Ron beamed at the mention of his parents as Hagrid went on, “James was… well, Harry he was almost exactly like yeh. He was popular, great at Quidditch, and a bit of a trouble maker, especially when he was with his friends. Yer mum was an angel. One of the kindest witches I’d ever known.”

Harry turned a light shade of red for being embarrassed by the slight call out from Hagrid when Draco piped up, “You mean Sirius Black.”

“Aye, Sirius was one of ’em. James and Sirius were part of a group… called ’emselves the Marauders.”

Everyone’s face went white at hearing the name.

“Did… did you say… Marauders?” Ron stuttered.

“Yeah, and let me tell yeh somethin’ they were quite the rough rousin’ bunch. Always playin’ a prank or breakin’ one rule or ‘nother,” Hagrid explained before he turned to Draco, “Which brings me ter yer family.”

Draco gulped as Hagrid continued.

“As yeh probably know, the hat sorted all yeh family inter Slytherin… even yeh Aunts. Bella was a nasty spitfire of a gal. She was always hexin’ and teasin’ the younger students. Narcissa was quiet, but she seemed like a nice witch, and I never saw her be mean ter anyone! Even when she found out about Andy and Ted.”

“Really?” Draco gasped.

“Oh yeah. Now, Andy… she was a real great student! Really outgoin’ personality, became Head Girl, and eventually accepted an apprenticeship to Saint Mungos where she’s a healer last I heard. In fact, when Yeh-know-who first rose ter power, that was her role in the resistance.”

“I had no idea,” Draco said under his breath.

“Sirius and Andy were close cuz they were the only family each other had left, yeh know? I’d say,” Hagrid started sniffling but forced himself to finish his thought, “the only other person who knew Sirius so well was James and Remus!”

Harry jumped up from his seat, “Hang on! Did you just say Remus… as in Remus Lupin?”

“As in our Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor?” Ron added.

Hagrid looked startled, his head moving back and forth between the four Gryffindors before he quietly said, “I probably shouldn’t have told yeh that.”

Harry looked ready to bolt out the door and demand some answers when Hagrid stopped him, “Now, wait jus’ one minute! I’m sure the Professor had a good explanation as to why he didn’ tell yeh about your dad.”

“You mean all the time he’s been spending with me… teaching me how to produce a Patronus… he didn’t once think to mention he was best friends with my dad? With Sirius Black!” Harry was so outraged at this point that there was no stopping him from leaving the hut. Ron, Draco, and Hermione were about to go after him when Hagrid stopped them again.

“Hang on. Before yeh go, I have somethin’ that belongs ter yeh.”

They impatiently watched as Hagrid opened up a tin and pulled a scrawny rat out from the compartment.

“Scabbers! You’re alive! Thank you, Hagrid!” Ron shouted as the three apologetically ran out of the hut.

“Keep a closer eye on yer pet, Ron,” Hagrid yelled back to the retreating students.

Hermione, Draco, and Ron sprinted to catch up with Harry when Hermione hissed, “I think that means you owe someone an apology.”

“Right,” Ron huffed, “Next time I see Crookshanks, I’ll let him know.”

“She meant her,” Draco snapped.

At this point, they had caught up to Harry, who was still furiously making his way back towards the castle. Hermione tried to get his attention and reached for his shoulder to stop him.

“Get off, Hermione,” Harry growled, pushing Hermione’s hand off with a bit too much force causing her to stumble a bit on the slope. Draco caught Hermione from falling before he let his rage take over.

“Oye! Mate!” Draco yelled, pushing Harry.  The dark-haired wizard spun around with his fist clenched and was about to take a swing at Draco when Ron stepped between them.

“What the bloody hell was that for?” Ron shouted at Harry, getting his friend to stop, “Just because you’re in a foul mood doesn’t mean you can take it out on us.”

Harry groaned in frustration and grabbed his hair as if he was going to pull it out of his scalp, “You don’t understand! None of you understand!”

“Then help us!” Hermione yelled, causing Ron and Draco to step back from the angry witch. She took a tentative step towards Harry and gently pried his hands out of his hair. She consoled him for a moment before speaking in a softer tone, “Stop for a minute and help us understand.”

Before Harry could try to explain how he was feeling, Ron suddenly yelped in pain. Draco, Harry, and Hermione looked up to find the red-headed wizard clutching his index finger that was now dripping with blood.

“He bit me! Scabbers bit me!”

Like a man possessed, Ron followed the little rodent, which started scampering off towards the woods.

“Ron!” Hermione called, simultaneously pointing out the deadly Whomping Willow on the horizon to Draco and Harry.

“Ron! Wait!” Draco ran, yelling at his friend to stop after realizing Hermione figured out where Ron and the rat were heading.

Harry let out a breath, subsiding his anger, and took off with Draco and Hermione, “We have to stop him!”

Just up ahead of them, Draco watched in fear when he saw Ron had successfully grabbed his pet but was now in the perfect spot to be squashed by the tree.

“Ron! Run!” Harry yelled, noticing the trunk start to twist and wind around as if gearing up to swing.

Ron looked up, his eyes wide with fear as he pointed to something behind the trio, “The Grim! Run! It’s the Grim!”

The three whipped around to find a large black dog growling and foaming at the mouth standing behind them. As terrifying as an omen of death could be, the monster looked feral with its yellow eyes gleaming madly in the last rays of sunlight sinking below the tree line. The three Gryffindors ducked and braced for the dog’s attack, but it never came. Instead, the animal jumped over them and grabbed Ron by the leg, dragging him across the ground as if the boy weighed nothing. Ron was crying out at the top of his lungs for help when he disappeared into a tunnel hidden at the base of the Whomping Willow’s trunk.

Draco, Harry, and Hermione could still hear Ron’s voice, which meant he wasn’t far. Their relief was short-lived, for the Whomping Willow appeared to be fully awake and hellbent on blocking the entrance. If they could just navigate past the branches blocking their path…

“We… we should… get help,” Hermione panted, dogging a branch that made a swipe at the group.

“No time!” Harry shouted at the same time he got knocked to the ground.

“We will never get past the tree without help!” Hermione argued as Draco rolled out of the way to avoid being hit.

“If the dog can do it… so can we!” Harry grunted. He struggled to stand up when another branch came sailing around like a ringleader with a whip. The wood collided with the ground, shaking the earth and making a loud cracking noise similar to thunder.

The three started leaping and jumping around like they were performing a complicated waltz with the Whomping Willow. The lethal branches continued to swish and narrowly miss the intruding students when out of nowhere, Crookshanks appeared. The orange feline gracefully dogged and zoomed through the web of branches until it reached the knot on the base of the trunk. Pushing it with his paws made the tree abruptly stop moving, like a reset command in a video game.

“How… what… is that your cat, love?” Draco asked, bewildered by the feline trotting back to Hermione.

“That… Yes! It’s Crookshanks! Oh, clever boy!” Hermione cooed, scratching the cat’s ears.

“Don’t be so happy. He’s friends with the dog. I’ve seen them together before,” Harry said grimly, “Come on. Let’s get moving.”

After the trio, along with Crookshanks, slipped into the tunnel, Hermione whispered, “Where do you suppose this goes?”

“I have a hunch,” Harry revealed, “I just hope I’m wrong.”

They moved as fast as possible through the narrow passageway until they spotted a light coming from above. The three teenagers climbed up the ladder and emerged into a disorderly room through a trap door. Hermione helped Draco up before motioning for him to draw his wand.

“Lumos,” Draco whispered. A bright light illuminated from the tip of his wand and allowed the Gryffindors to get an improved scope of their surroundings. Taking a better look around, they were in an old, wooden home that creaked with each movement they made. Dust covered everything, and it appeared that a monster destroyed all the furniture, but the most frightening was the giant claw marks indented in the walls and across the floor.

“We’re in the Shrieking Shack, aren’t we,” Hermione said under her breath and unable to hide how terrified she felt. She couldn’t tell if she shivered at the thought of being inside the abandoned building or from the cold.

“It’s the passageway on the Map. The one Fred and George never entered,” Harry explained. He waved at them to follow him up the stairs.

Draco raised his wand above his head to use it like a lantern. He reached out behind him to grab hold of Hermione’s wrist and gave it a reassuring squeeze before guiding her further into the shack as they looked for Ron with Harry. They didn’t need to search far, for they could hear Ron crying in one of the bedrooms upstairs.

Harry, Hermione, and Draco ran towards the redhead when he suddenly cried out, “Harry! It’s a trap! He’s an Animagus! It’s Sirius Black.”

Draco, Harry, and Hermione froze when they heard the door slowly creak close behind them. They whipped around to see a filthy man in prisons robes staring at them. Draco gasped at seeing how malnourished and uncared for he was. His skin was so translucent that Draco could make out the outline of his bones. The man took a few more steps closer towards them, his yellow teeth reflecting off the light through a wide smile. The motion caused Draco to step protectively in front of Hermione while Harry stayed in a defensive position in front of Ron.

“Sirius Black,” Draco breathed out.

Black laughed, “I must say, I knew Harry would come for his friend… he’s much like his dad in that way, but I didn’t expect you to be amongst them… cousin.”

Before Draco could react, Black cast an Expelliarmus with Ron’s new wand, a 14-inch willow with unicorn hair. The hex disarmed Harry and Draco, sending their wands up in the air for Black to catch.

“If you want to kill Harry, you are going to have to kill us too!” Ron shouted bravely at the murderer.

Sirius shook his head, “Don’t strain yourself, boy. You won’t help that leg.”

Ron gaped, “Didn’t... didn’t you hear me?”

“Yes, I heard you, but only one will die tonight,” Sirius said, dismissing the claim.

“And it will be you!” Harry shouted, lunging at Black.

“Harry! Don’t!” Draco yelled, holding his friend back from physically attacking the criminal.

“Let me go, Draco! Let me at him!” Harry ordered, fighting against Draco’s hold. It seemed in his need to seek revenge for being responsible for his parent’s deaths; Harry had forgotten that Sirius was an experienced killer and Harry was only a scrawny 13-year-old boy.

Black was not at all intimidated by the threat, for he started laughing and waving his hands around madly, “Are you going to kill me, Harry?”

Draco was losing his grip on Harry when Remus Lupin burst through the door, “Expelliarmus!”

His spell caused all the wands in Sirius’s hand to fly out and land into Lupin’s, which the Professor quickly pocketed before he spoke, “Well, well, Sirius. Looking rather ragged, aren’t we? Finally, the flesh reflects the madness within.”

“Remus…” Sirius smiled, looking at the man as if he was seeing a long-lost lover for the first time in years. Tears started to form in the criminal’s eyes as he whispered, “I found him.”

“It can’t be true, Sirius… Please tell me it’s not true,” Lupin pleaded, his wand quivering in his usually steady hand. 

Black nodded his head furiously, “I’m sorry… we thought it would be safer if you didn’t know.”

Lupin’s eyes widened, “You switched places… and didn’t tell me? But… then it was….”

Draco watched in shock as the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor completely lowered his wand and embraced Sirius in a lover’s hold. Black was shaking and crying into the shoulder of their Professor, hopelessly clinging to the man’s robes like it was a lifeline. The two were having a conversation as if the students weren’t even in the same room.

“I’ve been waiting 12 years,” Sirius whispered desperately.

“I’m so sorry, Padfoot. Please forgive me,” Lupin pleaded as he gently whiped the tears off of Black’s cheeks.

Sirius nodded, his sobs subsiding, “Let’s kill him.”

“Professor!” Harry interrupted loudly, “What is going on?”

Before either adult could answer, Hermione shouted, “I don’t believe this! I trusted you!”

Lupin let go of Sirius and faced Hermione when Draco piped in.

“Both of us have been covering for you!”

“If you would only allow us to explain,” Lupin assured, raising his hands in surrender.

“Don’t listen to him, Harry. He’s been helping Black get into the castle. He’s a werewolf! That’s why he’s been skipping classes,” Hermione accused as she pointed her wand at the Professor.

Lupin sighed, “How long have you known?”

Hermione gulped, her wand shaking in her hand, “Since Professor Snape assigned the essay.”

Lupin turned to Draco, silently asking him the same question, “I didn’t. Hermione told me after the Gryffindor-Ravenclaw match.”

“Well… I have to give you some credit, Hermione, you really are the brightest witch of your age I’ve ever met, but you are wrong that I was helping Sirius.”

In an act of good faith, Lupin tossed the students back their wands. Harry and Draco caught them in midair. They were stunned by the action when the Professor once again asked if the students would listen.

Harry gripped his holly wood furiously, “I have so many things I want to confront you about.”

“I have no doubt,” Lupin replied kindly, “I’m sure Hagrid revealed more than he realized.”

“How did you know we were with Hagrid?” Draco questioned.

“With this,” Lupin admitted, holding up the Marauders Map, “I’ve been watching you all for a while now, but I had a hunch you might try and do something tonight.”

“That explains why you could work the Map,” Harry said, “Hagrid told us you, Sirius, and my dad called yourselves the Marauders. That means you helped make the Map.”

“Yes, we were all friends, and I did help create the Map. I’m….” Lupin was about to explain his nickname when Hermione chimed in.

“Moony,” she paused when everyone stared at her, silently asking how she figured it out, “With some more context, their nicknames are a play on their animal form. Moony for the fact that Professor Lupin transforms under the full moon.”

“Yes, you see….” Lupin explained, “I was a very small boy when I was bitten. My parents tried everything, but alas, there is no cure for Lycanthropy. Even the Wolfsbane Potion that Snape makes me only keeps me sane during the transformation. Before that, I would become a full-fledged monster once a month. It seemed impossible that I would be able to attend Hogwarts, but when Dumbledore became Headmaster, he assured my parents I would be able to go to school, and no one would be the wiser. He planted the Whomping Willow my first year and so began the ritual of sneaking out to the Shrieking Shack to lock myself up. All the stories you’ve heard are false, for it was my screams that terrorized the village once a month. It was actually your dad, Harry, that figured out I was a werewolf and would help sneak me out under the invisibility cloak.”

“After a few years,” Sirius said, continuing the story, “we all learned how to become Animagi so that we could transform and be with Remus. Werewolves can harm humans, but they can’t harm animals. Obviously, I became a dog. James became a Stag, and Peter became a rat!”

“Padfoot for a dog’s padded feet,” Draco pointed out.

“Prongs for the antlers on a Stag,” Harry whispered, also making the connection, “I have the same Patronus as my father’s Animagus form.”

“You said Peter became a rat! Peter who?” Ron asked.

“Peter Pettigrew!” Sirius yelled.

“But he’s….” Harry tried to say, but Lupin cut him off.

“Dead. Yes, I believed so as well until you said you saw his name on the Map. Had I not seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it either.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

This was when Crookshanks made his presence known and started hissing at the rat in Ron’s hands. The redhead struggled to hold on to his pet and calm the squeaks that carried throughout the drafty room.

Lupin cautiously approached Ron, “Mr. Weasley, could I see your rat?”

“What’s my rat got to do with this?” Ron squawked in a terrified voice.

“Everything!” Sirius shouted, “Enough talking, Remus! Let’s just kill him!”

“One moment, Harry has a right to know everything,” Lupin said before turning back to Ron. When he leaned down and offered his hand to take the rat, Ran snapped at him.

“Don’t touch me, you werewolf!”

Lupin froze for a second before righting himself. He was pacing in front of the teenagers, deciding on how to approach this before Hermione gasped.

“Professor! That’s crazy! You can’t possibly think Ron’s rat is Peter Pettigrew.”

“That’s exactly what we think, Hermione!” Lupin confirmed, “I saw him on the Map myself, and the Map never lies!”

“The Map had to be lying,” Harry theorized when Ron shouted his defense for his pet.

“He’s not Peter! He’s Scabbers! He’s been in my family for….”

“12 years?!?” Sirius yelled back, sounding like a mad man, “Curiously long lifespan for a garden rat! He’s missing a toe, isn’t he?”

“So what?” Ron hysterically retorted when Harry started to put the puzzle together.

“All they could find of Pettigrew was his….”

“Finger!” Sirius explained, “The dirty coward cut it off so everyone would think he was dead. And then he transformed into a rat.”

“Show me,” Harry demanded.

Ron poorly fought off and blocked Sirius from grabbing hold of his pet as Draco, Harry, and Hermione watched. The criminal and their friend squabbled back and forth until Draco became fed up and impatient for answers.

“Just give him the stupid rat, Ron!”

Eventually, Sirius grabbed the rodent and held it up while Remus pointed his wand at the creature. Everyone ignored Ron’s protest as Lupin’s spell forced the rat to freeze in midair. Remus and Sirius fired another jinx that surrounded the pet in white, blue light before dropping the creature to the floor. Before their very eyes, Scabbers transformed into a man, into Peter Pettigrew.

Chapter Text

“But… how is that possible. I checked the Ministry’s registry, and no one named Peter Pettigrew was listed! For that matter, I didn’t see any of your names on the list,” Hermione announced.  

“What? Why did you look at the Animagus registry?” Harry asked, shocked by Hermione’s admission. 

“Transfiguration extra credit assignment,” Draco supplied, “We were supposed to write about someone who became an Animagus in the past 20 years and then describe the registration process.” 

“Ah, now that makes sense,” Harry said. 

If Ron had not been so shocked to see his family’s rat had, in fact, been a grown man living with them for his entire life, he would have replied with a retort along the lines of, “The lengths you will go for your grades, Hermione.” 

“You wouldn’t have found either of us on that list because none of us registered,” Sirius explained. 

“But that’s illegal!” Hermione argued. 

Sirius laughed at her when Draco whispered in her ear, “Maybe not the time, love.” 

Pettigrew started to come to and rolled on his back so that the group of Gryffindors could see clearly his face. Draco flinched when he saw how much it resembled his rat form with his small watery eyes and a large nose. His hair, or what was left of it, was the same color as Scabber’s fur and his teeth were abnormally large with two bucked teeth in the front. Standing up, the man was much shorter than Sirius or Remus and quite plump around the middle. 

Peter Pettigrew looked between Lupin and Black before squeaking out, “Remus? Sirius? My old friends!” 

With the fake sentiments hanging in the air, Pettigrew tried to run towards the exit, but Lupin and Black blocked his path. Both men had their wands trained on him when Peter quickly scanned the room until his eyes landed on Harry.  

“Harry! Look at you! You look so much like your father. Like James! We were the best of friends….” 

“How dare you speak to Harry!” Sirius shouted, grabbing Pettigrew, “How dare you talk about James in front of him!” 

“You sold James and Lily to Voldemort! Didn’t you?!?” Lupin accused him. 

Peter whimpered, “I… didn’t… mean to.” 

“Bullocks!” Sirius growled, calling out his lie. 

“The Dark Lord! You have no idea the weapons he possesses. The power!” Pettigrew paused when he noticed Draco, “You know all about those, wouldn’t you, boy. Being a son to one of his most loyalist followers.” 

Draco took a step back, trying to distance himself and the approaching man when Hermione stepped in front of Draco, shielding him. 

“If I may, Professor,” Hermione looked over at Lupin, asking permission. 

“Please, Miss Granger,” Lupin granted. 

Hermione looked Peter directly in his beady eyes, “Why did you wait until now to make a move to kill Harry? If you really have been working for You-Know-Who, then what was your motive to stay a rat for 12 years?”

Before Peter could stutter out a response, Sirius cut in with an explanation, “Because when Voldemort was defeated, all his followers were imprisoned! Well… most of his followers. They think Peter betrayed them when he sold the information to You-Know-Who as a way to double-cross them. And even Peter isn’t so stupid as to try and murder Harry right under Dumbledore’s nose.”

“Ask yourself, Sirius! What would you have done if you were in my position? He would have killed me!” Peter cried. 

“I would have died! I would have died rather than betray my friends!” Sirius screamed, raising his wand at Peter. 

“You should have known, Peter, that if Voldemort didn’t kill you, then we would,” Lupin growled. 

Pettigrew scrambled over to Ron, “I’ve been a good pet, a good friend. You won’t let them kill me, will you?”

Ron just stared at the man with the utmost revulsion, “I let you sleep in my bed!” 

Not finding an ally with his keeper, Pettigrew then turned to Hermione, pulling on her robes, “Sweet girl… clever girl, please. You’ll help me, won’t you?”

“Get away from her!” Draco yelled. He pulled Hermione’s robes free from the man’s clutches and sneered at him, “You’re nothing but a coward and a traitor! If Lupin and Black don’t finish you off, then I’m sure Harry and Ron will gladly take a go at you.” 

Peter flinched for a moment before he smiled sinisterly at Draco, “Careful, young Malfoy. You may have just sealed your fate. The Dark Lord takes no quarter for defectors.” 

“Enough, Peter!” Sirius shouted, pulling him away from the kids. 

Of course, the slippery bastard broke free and cornered Harry, “Dear boy, you won’t let them kill me, will you? Think of your father, James! He wouldn’t have wanted this!” 

Lupin grabbed Pettigrew and dragged him across the room. The Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor pushed Pettigrew up against a wall and backed him into a corner with uncanny strength. There would be no escape for Pettigrew this time. 

“Goodbye, Peter,” Lupin declared as he and Sirius raised their wands. 

Draco brought his arms around Hermione as she covered her face in his chest. 

“NO!” Harry yelled. 

Lupin and Black froze for a moment before the Professor let out a breath, “Harry, this man….” 

“He is the reason you have no parents!” Sirius snarled. 

“I know what he did,” Harry said, “But we should take him to the castle.” 

Pettigrew dropped to his knees and started graveling, “Oh bless you, boy. Bless you.” 

“Get off! I said we’d take you to the castle so that we can clear Sirius’s name. After that, the dementors can have you,” Harry revealed. 

Upon seeing the fear in Pettigrew’s eyes, Lupin cast a spell that knocked the man out and prevented him from transforming into his Animagus form. Afterward, Sirius waved Ron’s wand so that a jinx wrapped tick ropes around all-around Pettigrew’s torso, preventing the traitor from escaping in the unlikely event he awoke. Draco recognized the spell as the same one he used to trap Lockhart in their second year and gave his cousin a look of approval. Sirius then turned to Ron and sheepishly returned the redhead his wand. 

“Right, I’ll levitate Peter,” Lupin informed the students, “Can one of you boys help Sirius carry Ron out? I’m afraid he won’t be able to walk on that leg.” 

“I can,” Harry volunteered. 

“Thank you, Harry.” 

Once Sirius and Harry had a hold of Ron, they went down the tunnel first, followed by Draco and Hermione, then Lupin and an unconscious Pettigrew. 

“Sorry about the bite. I reckon that twinges a bit,” Sirius apologized to Ron. 

“A bit? A bit! You almost tore my leg off!” Ron whinged.

“I was going for the rat,” Sirius defended before softening his tone, “Normally, I have a charming disposition as a dog. In fact, James made the suggestion more than once that I make the change permanently. The tail I could live with. But the fleas... they’re murder!” 

Everyone, even Ron, laughed at the joke. When they pulled themselves out of the tunnel, Sirius and Harry set Ron down so that they could catch their breaths while they waited for the remainder of the party to emerge. When Draco came to the surface, he found Harry and Sirius talking off to the side while Ron held his leg, his face contorted in pain. 

“Let me see that, Weasley,” Draco said, examining the wound in the moonlight. 

“That looks painful,” Hermione commented with concern in her tone. 

“It is! Merlin, I hope it’s okay. What if they have to chop it off? I’ll be a goner!” Ron whined. 

Draco chuckled, “I’m sure Madam Pomfrey will fix it right up. In the meantime….” 

Draco scooted past Lupin and Pettigrew to slide back down the tunnel. After a few moments, he reemerged with a chunk of moss in his hand, “Obviously, I’m not a healer, but I can clean your wound and then bandage it until you can get to the hospital wing.” 

Ron nodded his head, “Do your worst, mate.” 

Hermione grabbed Ron’s hand as Draco raised his wand over the bite and whispered a spell. Water shot out the end like a stream and flowed down Ron’s leg, washing away the blood and dirt. Ron cried out in pain, squeezing Hermione’s hand until the stinging stopped. Draco carefully placed the moss over the top of the wound and then muttered a sticking charm to keep the makeshift bandage in place. 

Ron sighed in relief, “That feels better. What is that? How’d you do it?”

Draco smiled, “It’s Sphagnum Moss. I read about it in a healing text that it can be used like a bandage over an open cut. It’s only temporary, but for now, it will keep the wound clean and provide some relief until we can get you back to the castle.” 

Hermione let go of Ron’s hand and blinked at Draco, “That’s… brilliant!” 

“Very ingenious if I do say so, Draco,” Lupin complimented. 

“What’s that?” Harry asked, coming back with Sirius. 

“Draco just treated Ron’s injury. Look, it’s really fantastic!” Hermione praised. While she explained the moss and treatment it could provide, Sirius walked over to stand by Draco. The blond wizard looked up at his cousin to find the man giving him a curious look.

“I have to say. I would never have expected Lucius’s son to be sorted into Gryffindor.” 

Draco shrugged, “Guess I’m just a disappointment.” 

“Well, then welcome to the club. I was labeled one as well the minute I walked through the doors at Hogwarts,” Sirius paused, looking off into the distance at the castle, “It would be nice to do it again one day. As a free man.” 

“You can. Now that you have Pettigrew, you can prove your innocence,” Draco reminded him. 

“He’s right,” Harry chimed in, “The sooner we get Pettigrew to Dumbledore, then the sooner you can be free.” 

“Too true,” Sirius said, turning back to Draco, “You know, if you ever find yourself in a position that you need a home, you can always come live with me.” 

Harry nodded, “And me! It would be like having a brother.” 

Draco smiled, “I would love that. It would be nice to live somewhere that felt more like home.” 

“Could I ask you something, Mr. Black,” Hermione piped up. 

Sirius laughed, “You don’t need to be so formal, sweetheart. Sirius is fine, but yes.” 

“Well, it’s just that… I was curious as to why you went to Azkaban without having a trial,” she stated. 

Sirius turned to Hermione with a look of surprise on his face, “How did you know I didn’t have a trial?”

Hermione lowered her head, looking sheepish, “I don’t mean to overstep, but we wrote Draco’s Aunt Andromeda, and she told us about you. She seemed to imply that Dumbledore was the reason why you didn’t get a chance to defend yourself.”

“You reached out to Andy?” Sirius asked Draco. 

Draco nodded, “Yes. Hermione performed a locator spell on a picture, and I was able to write her. She practically admitted that she didn’t believe you were guilty and said that Dumbledore never fought for you in court.” 

“That’s a tad concerning,” Lupin said. 

Sirius rolled his eyes, “Thank you for stating the obvious, Moony.” 

“But we can trust Dumbledore. He’s protected us this far and has always had our best interest at heart,” Harry defended. 

“Eh… I wouldn’t go that far, Harry,” Draco retorted. 

“What do you mean?” Harry replied. His tone sounded betrayed. 

“I agree with Draco! I don’t necessarily think Dumbledore is a bad person, but I just think after events in recent years, and then Andromeda’s letter gives us reason to be cautious,” Hermione asserted. 

“So, you get in touch with a lost relative, and all of a sudden you agree with Theo and his Snakes, so now you think Dumbledore is the worst thing that’s ever happened to Hogwarts?” Harry snapped. 

“I never said that!” Draco yelled back, “You’re being irrational right now!” 

“Children!” Lupin tried to cut in, but his voice wasn’t getting through the argument. Sirius held up a hand to stop Remus. 

“Let them figure it out for themselves. If fists start flying, then we’ll step in,” Sirius whispered. The former criminal crossed his arms and watched the group curiously. 

“I’m being irrational? You and Hermione are doubting the one person who has had our backs from the beginning and kept us from being expelled. Name one time he didn’t defend us?” Harry bellowed. 

“Are you serious, Harry? How about last year when the Basilisk petrified me for months!” Hermione shouted. 

“Or when he allowed the Dementors to roam the school parameter,” Draco emphasized, “Seemed to recall they tried to kill you a few times.” 

“Don’t forget, Quirrell!” Ron chimed in. 

Harry whipped his head around to look at the redhead, “Not you too!”

“Hey, mate! How do you work with a man for years and not notice he’s been possessed by You-Know-Who? Surely, Dumbledore would have noticed a change in his personality, especially after he promoted him from Muggle Studies to Defense Against the Dark Arts,” Ron reasoned, “It sounds a little suspicious to me.” 

“That’s a valid point, Weasley,” Draco complimented. 

“Says the person whose family didn’t know he had an Animagus as a pet for years! I can’t believe you all right now,” Harry said, exasperated. 

“Oi! Low blow, Mate! No one alive knew he was an Animagus except those two over there!” Ron yelled, pointing at Sirius and Remus. 

“Harry, we’re not trying to discredit you. We’re your friends,” Hermione said. Her voice sounded small, almost like she was pleading with Harry. 

“Well, you don’t sound like them right now,” Harry spat. 

“Alright, Mate. If you’re so convinced Dumbledore will help us, then how about we prove it?” Ron challenged. 

Harry raised an eyebrow, “Come again?”

“You heard me. Test Dumbledore. Have Sirius and Remus wait by Hagrid’s hut in the woods while you go to Dumbledore’s office. Tell him you snuck out and that Remus has Black and Pettigrew trapped in the Shrieking Shack. If his response is to help set Sirius free, then all is well. If not, and he proceeds to call the Aurors and Dementors, then Sirius can still escape and take Pettigrew with him as his evidence,” Ron explained. 

Everyone was stunned silent as they just stared at Ron and processed his plan. Hermione was the first one to speak up and break the stupor that had fallen over the group.  

“That’s… brilliant!” 

“Always the tone of surprise when I come up with something,” Ron muttered. 

“Only, how is Sirius going to escape? He can’t Apparate, and the Floo is out,” Hermione pointed out. 

Draco smirked, “Harry, didn’t you say Hagrid has a magical motorbike?”

Sirius perked up, “My motorbike! He kept Bonnie all these years!? Goodman, Hagrid!” 

Harry looked back and forth between Ron, Draco, and Pettigrew as if he was contemplating the plan. After moments of tense silence, Harry finally spoke, “There’s a sidecar attached to the bike. Pettigrew can fit in there.” 

“So, does that mean you are going along with the plan?” Draco asked. 

Harry nodded, “But you and Hermione are coming with me. We’ll drop Ron off at the Hospital wing on our way to Dumbledore’s office.”  

“Bloody brilliant,” Ron quipped as the boys hoisted the redhead up into a two-person seat-carry hold while Lupin and Black retreated into the forest with an unconscious Pettigrew. 

_______________

It took Draco and Harry longer than expected to get Ron to the hospital wing, but eventually, they got the redhead sitting comfortably on one of the cots. Ron urged them to hurry out before they got caught by Madam Pomfrey for tripping off the ward alarms. They briskly made their way to the seventh floor and found the gargoyle statute that would take them to see the Headmaster. 

“We need to speak to Professor Dumbledore,” Harry ordered the statute. 

The gargoyle just sneered at the students and shook its head, not permitting them entrance. Draco huffed at the lack of cooperation the statute was showing. The only time Dumbledore had called him to his office was the second day of his first year when his father had threatened to remove Draco from the school. He was with McGonagall then, and their Head of House had spoken a password that allowed him entry. 

“Oh, darn! It won’t let us in without the password or if we have an appointment,” Hermione groaned. 

Before Draco could ask what they were going to do, he felt a sudden chill overtake the corridor as the Potion’s Master swept into the hallway and made his presence known. 

“And just what… do you three think you are doing loitering outside the Headmaster’s office?”

“We have to speak to Professor Dumbledore. Immediately,” Harry stated, ignoring Snape’s icy glare. 

“Really, and what could possibly be so urgent that you couldn’t wait until morning?” Snape asked, disdain thickly lacing his tone. 

“We have information about Sirius Black,” Draco said, “Surely you know the password and could let us in, Professor?”

Snape raised an eyebrow at Draco, “Consider yourself fortunate, Mr. Malfoy, that I find myself intrigued as to how you came by this… information.” With a dramatic flair of his black cape, Snape approached the gargoyle and snapped, “Sorbet Lemon.”  

The statute nodded its head and started to coil, revealing the spiral staircase to the archway Draco remembered previously walking through. Having been too intimidated by his father, Draco didn’t pay attention to the contents of the office the last time he was here. The tower room was quite expansive and ornate, with portraits of former Headmasters that lined the stone walls atop cabinets filled with miscellaneous items. However, this was only the first area, for beyond three archways revealed a more traditional office space with a desk surrounded by bookshelves. He could see a loft further in the room that comprised the third part of the office but couldn’t exactly make out what was displayed within his sight. Tension was high, and the atmosphere was filled with nervous energy as the three Gryffindors followed the Potion’s Master to find the Dumbledore sitting behind his desk. 

“To what do I owe this surprise, Severus?” the Headmaster asked Professor Snape. 

“Headmaster, I went to deliver Lupin’s tonic but was shocked to find the Professor was unavailable. As such, I immediately began investigating, and my findings were revealed to be troubling. I discovered Lupin’s whereabouts have not been accounted for and remain unknown at this time.”

Dumbledore nodded, “And how do you, young ones, come into this tale?”

“They apparently have information on Sirius Black,” Snape intoned. 

“Sir, Sirius is innocent,” Harry blurted out. 

“Lies!” Snape yelled, “You could not possibly know anything….” 

“Severus,” Dumbledore held up his hand to quiet Snape before he turned to Harry. He prompted the young Gryffindor to continue. 

Harry spent a good thirty minutes explaining everything divulged in the shack only a few hours earlier to the professors. Shockingly, Snape and Dumbledore allowed the tale to be told from start to finish uninterrupted, with occasional input from Hermione and Draco. When the three students finished, the room was enveloped in a thick silence as the Professors appeared to be processing the information. After a few more moments, Snape broke the tension in the room with a scoff. 

“Obviously, Black has Confounded these students. This story is outrageous!” 

“It’s the truth!” Harry shouted in a defensive tone before turning to the Headmaster, “Please, Sir! You have to believe us! Sirius and Remus have the evidence to prove his innocence.” 

“And where are they now, Harry?” Dumbledore calmly asked. 

Harry paused for a second before answering, “The Shrieking Shack.” 

As soon as Harry revealed the false location, Snape and Dumbledore moved into action. 

“I’ll call the Dementors,” Snape informed the Headmaster. 

“Thank you, Severus. I’m calling the Ministry now. And if you could, please escort the students to the Hospital Wing and have Madam Pomfrey examine them,” Dumbledore lowered his voice, “Make sure they cannot leave the ward.” 

“Understood, Headmaster,” Snape replied with a smirk on his face. 

Harry’s jaw dropped, “But Sir! You have to help Sirius! You can’t!”

“Hush, Potter!” Snape growled, pointing at the door, “All of you, out! To the Hospital wing!” 

“Professor Dumbledore, please! Just listen….” Hermione protested.

“You’re going to execute the wrong man!” Draco yelled. 

“Silencio!” Snape waved his wand, the spell canceling their voices and preventing them from arguing further. “Now, proceed to the Hospital Wing this instant. And don’t even think about it, Potter. Try to run, and you will regret it,” Snape warned in a deadly tone. 

Reluctantly, the three Gryffindors marched back down to the fourth floor and found themselves, once again, inside the ward. With another lazy wave, Snape lifted the spell and returned their voices. He ignored their pleas for help, magically shutting the doors and locking the students inside. 

Harry pulled futilely on the nob, “Damn! We have to get out!” 

Draco raised his wand, “Alohamora.” 

Hermione rolled her eyes, “That’s not going to work.” 

Harry still tried the door again with no success. 

“What the bloody hell happened? Why did Snape lock us in?” Ron asked from his cot. 

“Dumbledore failed the test,” Draco explained, “He didn’t believe us.” 

Ron gaped, “No!” 

“And now they are calling the Dementors and the Ministry,” Harry said bitterly, “They are going to catch Sirius. We have to get him out before they get here!”

“Too bad you can’t go back in time and warn yourselves,” Ron lamented. 

Hermione’s head snapped up, “Ron! That’s it?”

“What is? Did I have another brilliant idea and don’t know it?” Ron asked, confused. 

“Oh, I see where this is going,” Draco said, pulling Harry closer so that the three Gryffindor’s formed a circle. 

Hermione pulled the TimeTurner out from under her shirt and placed the chain around their necks. She then said over her shoulder to Ron, “Sorry, but seeing as you can’t walk….” 

Harry was mesmerized by the disc in Hermione’s hand. Slowly, he reached up to try and touch it, but Draco smacked his hand away, shaking his head. 

“Right, Harry, you might want to close your eyes so you don’t get sick,” Hermione warned before she turned the device three times counterclockwise. Draco heeded her advice this time and just listened as the world around him shifted back in time. When they stopped moving, Hermione removed the chain and tucked the TimeTurner back in its place. 

“What just happened? Where’s Ron?” Harry questioned. Both Hermione and Draco ignored him as they searched for a clock. 

“7:30. Where were we at 7:30?” Draco asked. 

“I… don’t remember,” Hermione muttered. 

“Leaving Hagrid’s,” Harry said. 

Hermione and Draco accepted his response and urged Harry to follow them down to the courtyard. 

“Are either of you going to tell me what we just did?” Harry asked again. 

“We went back in time,” Hermione stated, not elaborating further. 

“What? How?” Harry inquired in a severe tone. 

“With a TimeTurner,” Draco added, “It’s a runic device that the Ministry typically controls. Unauthorized use or abuse of that instrument lands you a one-way ticket to Azkaban.” 

“Which means we cannot be seen,” Hermione emphasized, pushing the boys up against the side of the bridge that led to the grounds. Though they were mostly covered from sight, the three Gryffindors sneakily leaned around the edge to watch their past selves interacting. 

“Is that…”

“Yes, Harry,” Hermione explained, “That was us three hours ago.”

“This is where Pettigrew bit Ron, and we ran into the Whomping Willow,” Draco pointed out. His eyes followed Ron and the rat as they ran towards the deadly tree. 

They watched the scene for a while until Hermione smacked Draco in the side of his arm, causing the blond wizard to cry out, “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me my hair looked like that from the back!” 

Draco rubbed his arm, “What do you mean? It’s not bad enough that you had to choose violence, love.” 

“So, you just let me walk around with my hair looking like an eagle’s nest?” 

“You need to stop listening to Theo and Zacharias when they taunt you in class,” Draco commented warmheartedly. “Your curls are beautiful and are bound to get messy when one tangos with the Whomping Willow. It was inevitable.”

Hermione bristled a bit and was posed to say something in return but was stopped by Harry interjecting, “Can you two cut it out? We need to focus.” 

“You’re right,” Hermione acknowledged, turning her gaze back onto Ron being dragged by Sirius.  

“Sorry,” Draco murmured.  

“When we head down into the tunnel, we need to sneak back down the path to Hagrid’s hut. Harry, do you know where he keeps his motorbike?” Hermione asked. She now appeared focused and ready to react at a moment’s notice. 

“In the shed at the back of the hut,” Harry informed them. 

“Right, so we get the bike, head to the forest, and wait for Sirius and Lupin to show up,” Draco reiterated the plan aloud. 

“That’s the general idea,” Hermione confirmed.

They resumed watching their fight with the Willow when Harry pointed out Crookshanks sneaking past them to the tree. 

“Here we go,” Draco quietly announced. They were about to emerge from their hiding spot when Hermione pulled the blond wizard back down. She motioned for him to stay quiet and pointed up to the bridge. 

“Someone is coming,” she mouthed. 

The three didn’t need to wait long. About 30-seconds later, Professor Lupin came running down the bridge with the Marauders Map in hand. He moved swiftly towards the Whomping Willow. After he also disappeared into the tunnel, Harry quickly swept their surroundings and confirmed the coast was clear. 

Nimbly, they snuck down the hill under cover of twilight and re-hid behind Hagrid’s pumpkin patch. Harry peeped up from behind one of the more giant pumpkins and pointed out the shed door. Draco and Hermione silently acknowledged Harry and proceeded towards the shed with caution. They couldn’t make any noise for fear that Hagrid would hear them. 

Draco reached forward and found the door was locked with a padlock and chain. Hermione gently placed a hand on his shoulder, prompting Draco to back away. She raised her wand and quietly recited the spell. 

“Liquescimus.” 

The lock started to glow red, indicating it was heating up. Instantly, the metal melted apart, allowing the chain to slide off and fall to the ground. Hermione and Draco winced at hearing the clattering sound of the metal and ran around to the other side of the hut in case Hagrid emerged from the back door to investigate the disturbance. Draco and Hermione held their breaths and strained to listen through the blood rushing in their ears. They let out a collective sigh of relief when the half-giant didn’t show up demanding an explanation and went back to breaking into the storage shed. Draco opened the door slowly while Hermione navigated her way inside the tight space to kick the stand up and push the bike out. Together, they wheeled the vehicle around the patch and then into the woods with Harry’s help. Once they were safely covered from sight by the tree line, Harry spoke up. 

“Where did we tell Professor Lupin and Sirius to meet us?”

“Ron just said the grove by Hagrid’s hut,” Draco grunted. They had to rock the motorbike a little to get it over a thick root. 

“Well…” Hermione huffed, “That would be here.” 

Draco kicked the stand down and allowed the bike to lean on its own. The children were heavily panting, staring at one another, silently asking themselves what they should do? Their answer seemed to come automatically, for, at that moment, Lupin and Black appeared in the clearing. 

Remus gave them a quizzical look, “Well, either that was the fastest conversation ever held in history, or you can be in two places at once.” 

The children laughed, but it was Harry that answered the Defense Professor, “It’s a long story.” 

“Suffice to say, Dumbledore isn’t an ally in this case,” Draco said. 

Sirius and Remus gave them grim expressions before turning to one another. 

“You should take Peter and go as soon as possible,” Remus said, handing his wand to Sirius. 

“Where will you go?” Harry suddenly asked. 

Sirius smiled, “It’s probably best you don’t know, but I promise I will get free and come back for you.” 

Harry nodded, accepting the answer as Sirius prepared Pettigrew and the motorbike for transport. The man then gave each of the children a hug before mounting the bike. He gave them each a look of gratitude before saying, “I will never forget this. Thank you.” 

The Bonneville backfired once and then roared to life with the engine revving a couple of times. The headlight flicked on, and then Sirius was up in the air and away from the school’s grounds safely. 

Lupin had a look of longing on his face, which he quickly schooled before turning back to the children.

“I don’t suppose you’re going to clue me in on what you three did?”

They all shook their heads. 

“I’m sorry, Professor. But we really need to get back to the Hospital Wing,” Hermione said. 

“Of course,” Lupin acquiesced. 

“Though, we could use a favor,” Draco chimed in, “Can you distract Madam Pomfrey so that we have time to sneak into the ward unseen?”

Lupin had a curious look on his face but nodded his head in understanding, thankfully not asking why again. The Professor went on ahead, and the three followed close behind, hiding in the shadows of the corridors. Peeking around the corner on the fourth floor, they waited in anticipation as Lupin entered the ward. A few minutes later, the Professor emerged with the matron in tow, and the two disappeared down the stairs. 

Draco gasped, “I would pay so many galleons to know what he said to convince Madam Pomfrey to leave Ron unattended.” 

“Come on,” Hermione waved them forward. They quickly slipped into the Hospital Wing and found Ron asleep on the cot. 

Harry shut the heavy door and winced when the heavy noise echoed through the vaulted room. He nudged Draco and Hermione to the side and hissed, “In her office. Quickly.” 

Ron was startled and started looking around before he called out, “Hello? Is anyone there?”

Draco, Harry, and Hermione waited in the matron’s office for a few minutes, not making a sound, when they heard the door open again. Almost no time passed when Draco heard the protests of their past selves, followed by Snape barging out of the ward and then locked the door. 

“Here we go,” Draco said.  

They pressed their ears up against the office door and waited until they heard Ron cry out, indicating that they had disappeared back in time. One by one, they filed out into the ward and reconvened around Ron’s bed. 

Giddy with their success, Hermione turned to Ron first, “We did it!” 

“Sirius is free,” Draco informed the redhead, also smiling. 

“But you just left!? How did you get there,” Ron shouted as he pointed to the office door and then back to them, “to over there?” 

“Honestly, Ron. How can someone be in two places at once,” Harry teased his friend. His laughter was contagious and spurred Hermione and Draco to join him. 

“Bloody Hell,” Ron muttered, shaking his head. 

_________________

It was a chilly spring night as Sirius Black navigated the 1959 Triumph T120 Bonneville through the clouds by the light of the almost full moon. He was beyond pleased to learn that Hagrid had kept his precious Bonnie well maintained after all these years. The engine rode just as smooth and flawless as the first time he rode the motorbike. To say it was exhilarating would be an understatement. 

He’d spent the past 12 years rotting in a cell in Azkaban, overcome with guilt and grief for the loss of his best friend and his wife. When he learned of Lily’s and James’s deaths, he immediately knew Pettigrew had been the one to sell them out to the Dark Lord. He also knew that Pettigrew had been responsible for all the other members who were caught, tortured, and killed. 

Marlene McKinnon

Dorcas Meadowes

Edgar Bones

The list was too great to continue. Besides, he could properly grieve all the friends he lost later. For now, he needed to keep a clear head and remain focused on his destination. 

Looking off to his left, Sirius double-checked that Pettigrew was still unconscious before lowering the bike down. Upon making contact with the ground, Sirius rolled the bike to a stop before cutting the engine. He then carefully removed his helmet and goggles before raising Lupin’s wand. His steps were swift as he cautiously moved towards the tranquil Oxfordshire farmhouse. Being vigilant of his surroundings, Sirius levitated Pettigrew’s body and came to stand in front of the door. He knocked three times in rapid succession. 

The door slowly creaked open to reveal an older woman with thick brown curly hair and wide eyes. Upon seeing the sight of her missing cousin, she threw the door opened and gasped. 

“What is it, dear?” a man said behind her, walking towards them. He, too, had a mop of curly brown hair that was perfectly styled atop the round face of Ted Tonks. 

Sirius smiled at the couple before directing his sight towards the woman, “Hello, Andy.” 

End of Year Three

Chapter Text

The Daily Prophet

June 4, 1994

BREAKING NEWS! SIRIUS BLACK DECLARED INNOCENT!

He was a household name that struck fear into the hearts of every witch and wizard. Notoriously accused as a traitor and murderer, Black’s name surfaced once again back in the summer of ’93 when he made history by becoming the first wizard to escape from Azkaban. No dementor or person was able to catch the wanted man. After months of being on the run, Black turned himself in on May 24, 1994, to the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Madam Amelia Bones. 

At the time of his surrender, Black provided compelling evidence that his cousin, Andromeda Tonks (Nee Black), used to demand an exoneration hearing before the entire Wizengamot. Said hearing took place on May 30, 1994. 

Black was initially accused and charged for the following crimes on November 1, 1981:

Conspiracy to commit murder against James Potter and Lily Potter (Nee Evans);

Murder of Peter Pettigrew; and 

Wanton negligence and misuse of magic in the presence of Muggles.  

There are many theories about how a member of one of the most ancient and noble families in our society was denied due process. Mrs. Tonks believes that her cousin was a victim of discriminatory policies enacted by power-hungry ministry officials after the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. At the time, Bartemius Crouch Sr. was the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Infamous for his tough-on-crime campaigns, Crouch Sr., was given the authority by the Ministry to seize and interrogate potential supporters of You-Know-Who, which consequently led many individuals like Sirius Black to receive life sentences without formal proceedings. Crouch, who is now the Head of the Department for International Corporation, denied to comment. There is no word from the Ministry if they will be “retrying” many convicted Death Eaters. 

As mentioned above, Sirius Black’s long overdue day in court took place on May 30 at 9:00 a.m. The hearing was closed to the public and lasted three days before Madam Bones delivered the final verdict on June 3, 1981. Many of you are probably wondering what evidence this supposed dark wizard provided to earn him a complete pardon. Well, believe it or not, Black walked into the courtroom with none other than the man he was accused of murdering, Peter Pettigrew himself back from the dead! 

Testimony revealed that the Potters hid under a Fidelius Charm, a complicated and potent charm that conceals a secret inside an individual’s soul. The magic made their property invisible and unplottable to others except for the individual designated as the Secret Keeper or the person charged with hiding the location inside their soul. Initial statements from witnesses claimed that Black was the Secret Keeper, and he divulged the site, thus putting into motion the horrendous events of that fateful Samhain night. This statement proved to be false as Black informed the Wizengamot that the late Mr. Potter himself designated Pettigrew in a last-minute decision to try and trick He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. 

\After betraying everyone’s trust, Pettigrew faked his own demise by cutting off his pinky finger and transforming into his Animagus form to escape. The Animagi registry formally recorded Pettigrew’s Animagus as a common short-haired rat. Black, overcome with grief, tried to stop Pettigrew from running, which led to his misuse of magic in front of 12 muggles, thus violating the Statute of Secrecy. Many were outraged when they heard the tale. Some were inclined not to believe it, even with Pettigrew standing in the flesh. 

When questioned about his infamous escape from Azkaban Prison, Black explained that he is an Animagus as well and transformed after seeing the article about the Weasley family in Egypt. Pettigrew is pictured in his rat form and being held by Ronald Weasley (See reference image on page 3). The Animagi registry also formally recorded Black’s Animagus as a dark-haired German Shephard. Black was so malnourished that he could slip through the bars and escape while posing as a guard dog. Since dementors cannot sense magical beings when they are transfigured, it was just a matter of getting off the frozen island and back to British soil. According to his testimony, Black’s goal was not to murder Harry Potter, his godson, but to go after Pettigrew. Recent events have posed many questions as to how the Ministry will act regarding prison reform and security measures, but Minister Fudge has declined to comment at this time.  

Madam Bones delivered her final verdict on June 3, 1994, officially clearing Black of all charges. Pettigrew was charged on two counts of conspiracy to commit murder, fraud, and treason. He was sentenced to receive the dementors kiss. 

We asked Black what he plans to do with his newfound freedom; he had this to say: 

“I am reclaiming my life! With all the time I spent behind bars, I will live each moment to the fullest. I also will be taking custody of my godson immediately, as was intended by my dear friends.” 

This article was written by Andy Smudgley, Reporter for the Daily Prophet. 

“He did it! Sirius did it!” Harry exclaimed, his face beaming with pure joy. 

The four young Gryffindors were sitting in a compartment on the train home, having just read the article and accompanying letter that Sirius owled them. This past term was filled with yet another adventure for the quartet as they discovered the truth behind Harry’s godfather, along with the connection the man had with Harry’s parents. As the facts came to light, they learned that Sirius Black was framed as a traitor! Now, that label was cleared, and Sirius was a free man. This meant several things for Sirius. He could officially claim the Black Family properties he inherited along with any vaults that remained dormant during his stay. He could also claim custody of Harry and fulfill his duty as godfather. Looking over at his friend, Draco smiled when he saw that, for once, Harry didn’t appear to be sad about leaving behind the place he had come to know as home. 

“I can’t believe he’s free!” 

“And you don’t have to go back to the Dursleys!” Ron added. 

“I think that’s the part I’m most excited about,” Harry admitted. 

Hermione held up the rest of the letter. “There’s more than just the article! Sirius confessed that he sent you the Firebolt.” 

“What?!?” all the boys cried out at the same time. 

Hermione nodded her head, not looking the least bit surprised. “He said he may or may not have forged Andromeda’s signature to have the money withdrawn from his account to pay for it.” 

“Brilliant,” Draco exclaimed, earning him a disapproving scowl from Hermione. 

“Is there anything else, Hermione?” Ron asked. 

“Uh…” Hermione trailed off as she quickly scanned the letter. “Oh! He also said you could keep the owl, Ron. You know, as a replacement for your familiar. Sirius mentioned his name is Pygmalion.” 

“Bloody hell!” Ron yelled ecstatically, scaring the bird and Crookshanks but enticing the rest of the compartment to laugh with him. 

______________________

Before Draco could blink, the summer vacation had nearly passed him by, for it was now the beginning of August. He had spent the majority of it either in his room, riding his broom, or writing his friends. Hermione was having a lovely summer back with her parents while Ron tried not to go crazy at the Burrow. Harry had settled in with Sirius at their new home, but Draco couldn’t visit because it was unplottable. Part of Draco found that odd and wondered if it was an extra security precaution, but another part thought it was really cool that Harry had such an interesting new place to live. He was in the middle of responding to another letter from Hermione, mostly thanking her for the book she sent (the story about Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde was his favorite out of all the ones she had gifted him so far) when Lucius stormed into his room.  

“Draco,” he greeted coldly. “Get dressed in a formal robe for dinner. We have important guests joining us this evening.” 

He fought the urge to roll his eyes before looking up at his father. “And who is coming to visit?”

Lucius sneered. “I suggest you curve that attitude. You will be silent unless spoken to and politely answer when asked any questions.” 

“Yes, father,” Draco groaned, lazily getting up from his desk. As he was making his way to his closet, he felt a very hard slap on the back of his head. Draco cried out in pain as he touched the spot where his father had hit him with his snake cane. 

“That is your one and only warning. Be ready in half an hour,” Lucius ordered sternly before exiting the room. 

Once Draco felt enough time had passed for Lucius to leave his wing, he allowed himself a moment to cave into the pain he was feeling. Rubbing the back of his head, he sunk to the floor as a few tears leaked from his eyes. Draco was used to handling physical pain, but that was not the problem that led him to cry. The tears stemmed from the emotional pain that came with accepting he would never be good enough in his father’s eyes. Draco knew long ago that even if he followed Lucius’s ideals to a tee that the man would still be disappointed in him as a son. His father would always find something inadequate about Draco to critique, and his dissatisfaction with Draco’s choices only grew the older he became. Being sorted into Gryffindor sealed the type of relationship he would have with his father, or in this case, a lack thereof. 

Steeling himself to face the hell that was sure to be the evening, Draco got dressed and made his way downstairs to find his mother and father waiting for him in their parlor. It was practically second nature for Draco to conform to the greeting line as he took his place at the end next to his mother. He didn’t have to wait long before green flames magically appeared, and the fireplace ejected the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge. 

“Minister, welcome to our home,” Lucius greeted at the same time Mrs. Fudge emerged. To the practiced ear, one could ascertain that it was an insincere salutation that his father employed when he was scheming. Still, to anyone else, it made the person on the receiving end feel like an old friend was welcoming them. 

“Lucius! Thank you ever so much for the dinner invitation, my friend,” Fudge replied, clasping his father’s hand in a firm handshake before moving on to his mother, “And Narcissa, darling! You are looking lovely as ever. I’m sure you have instructed the staff to prepare a wonderful meal for the evening.” 

“Minister, you are too kind,” Narcissa softly replied before Fudge moved on to Draco. 

“And young, Draco! My, you look more like your father each time I see you. He’s such a strapping young man, Lucius! You should be very proud of him.” 

Draco, thankfully, was able to hide the grimace from Fudge’s compliment. He absolutely hated being compared to his father, especially since he acted nothing like the man. In fact, Lucius took every opportunity to remind Draco that everything he did was the exact opposite of what a Malfoy should be. 

Malfoys are sorted into Slytherin, not Gryffindor.

Malfoys are leaders amongst their peers, not followers. 

Malfoys keep company with elite members of society, not mudbloods and blood traitors. 

Draco had to grind his teeth to keep from saying something at the last comment. It irked his father to no end that Draco didn’t take up the blood purity mantle as was expected of him. He found the ideology to be intolerant and wanted to take no part in forwarding that agenda. Under normal circumstances, Draco would have spoken up and insisted that he was his own person by citing all these differences between himself and his father, but telling the most influential person in Wizarding Britain that he was wrong was not the moment to try and assert one’s individuality. 

His father had swiftly moved everyone into the dining room where the meal was starting. Draco watched out of the corner of his eye as two of the house-elves poured wine and began to levitate appetizers as the first course. For most of the dinner, he sat in awkward silence. He focused on eating while his father conducted political conversations with the Minister at the same time Narcissa and Mrs. Fudge talked about some housekeeping article in Witch Weekly. They were about halfway through the main course when Fudge said something that caught Draco’s interest. 

“And, will you and your family be attending the World Cup, Lucius?” 

“We have not decided yet,” his father replied, “You know how much Narcissa abhors the sport.” 

“Oh, but you must,” Fudge insisted, “Come and sit in our box! I’m sure Silvia would appreciate having Narcissa to talk to so she doesn’t have to entertain the Irish and Bulgarian delegates the entire time.”

“Did you say the World Cup?” Draco piped up. The entire table stopped moving and focused their attention on Draco. He fought the urge to gulp and avoided looking directly at his father’s scowl that he felt piercing through him. 

Fudge laughed, “Yes, my dear boy! Are you a fan of the sport?”

“Very much so. I play on my house team,” Draco answered. 

“Excellent! See, Lucius, you can’t deny the lad! He could meet some of the best players in the world. Viktor Krum himself will be playing front and center,” Fudge said before picking up his wine glass. 

His father gave the Minister a tight smile, “How could I refuse.” 

_____________________

The World Cup was packed and massively diverse with wizardkind from all around the world who had come to see what was sure to be an epic match between Bulgaria and Ireland. While he would have preferred to be celebrating this event with his friends, Draco was still excited that he would get to see the match from the private box that belongs to the Minister. The view of the game would, no doubt, be spectacular, but the all-black semi-formal attire his father forced him to wear left much to be desired in the muggy summer air, even with the cooling charm his mother cast on him before leaving. Draco was so entranced by the festivities around him that he almost missed hearing his friends along with the Weasley family calling his name from a platform just above him. With a cheeky smirk on his face, Draco grabbed onto the metal bars of the railing and hoisted himself up so that he was close to eye level with the group.

“Hey! How’s it going?” Draco asked, getting laughs from everyone around him.

Hermione smiled at him, “Hello, Draco. I’m glad you were able to make it to the Cup.”

“I’m quite honestly shocked that Harry and Ron convinced you to come, given your aversion to sports. Unless you’ve got a book hidden somewhere that I can’t see at the moment,” Draco teased playfully.

She rolled her eyes at him before she leaned forward on the rail. Her face hovered only inches from his as she gave him a smug smile, “I am known to enjoy a game every now and then. Or did you forget that I watched you play in the final match last year.”

“Hey, mate! Why are you dressed for a funeral?” Ron cut in, interrupting the not-so-subtle flirting between Draco and Hermione.

Draco groaned, “Didn’t have a choice. Father was invited to sit with the Minister, and evidently, that requires me not to wear my Bulgarian jersey.”

“Ah! Yes! I knew there was a reason we were friends!” Ron chuckled, high-fiving Draco before he pointed at Harry and Hermione, “These too are rooting for the Irish. Can you believe that? No taste at all!”

Draco gave Hermione an incredulous look before he reached up and tucked a stray curl that had blown across her cheek behind her ear. The action made her skin flare red underneath the shamrock tattoo, which sported her team loyalty. Smirking, he jokingly clucked his tongue at Hermione, “For shame, Granger. Rooting for the losing team?”

“Hey now! Those are fighting words, Malfoy!” Fred joked.

“Care to make a wager? Ron and Harry were being spoilsports, but maybe we could convince you?” George cajoled.

Harry chuckled, “Apparently, I only gamble with my life, not my money.”

Draco and the Weasleys were laughing at the joke, but Hermione’s expression quickly faded into a frown as she chastised Harry, “That’s not funny!”

“What’s the stakes?” Draco asked the twins.

“We got Diggory and Ginny to put in 10 sickles each on Ireland. Think you could match their wager for Bulgaria?” Fred challenged.

Draco nodded, “Tell yeah what. I’ll match and then double. Twenty sickles Bulgaria wins.”

“You’re on, Malfoy,” Fred said, shaking the blond wizard’s hand.

“Always a pleasure doing business with you. We’ll find you after the match, yeah?” George asked, “You can’t miss the afterparty.”

“Draco! That’s so silly! Why would you do that?” Hermione asked, a little annoyed at her friend for indulging the twin’s antics.

“It’s just a little harmless fun. Are you feeling left out? Want to make a bet of our own?” Draco teased, “You seem overly confident that the Irish are going to win.”

Hermione bristled a little bit but failed to hide the giggle that escaped from her throat, “Alright. Let’s say, hypothetically, of course, that Bulgaria does win. What do you get?”

“How about a kiss?” Ginny piped up from behind Hermione. Everyone around oohed and whistled, making both Hermione and Draco blush.

“That’s… no, no way!” Hermione objected, her cheeks turning more scarlet from the suggestion. Her protests had the opposite effect and only fueled the mischief currently being brewed by the twins.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re scared ‘Mione?” Fred taunted in a sing-song voice.

“Besides, the Irish are definitively going to win, so what do you have to lose?” George questioned her with a mischievous glint in his eye.  

Letting out a frustrated breath, Hermione turned to Draco with a determined look across her face, “Alright, you can have one kiss… IF the Bulgarian team wins. If the Irish win, then you have to wear Luna’s Lion head hat all day during the first Hogsmeade trip.”

The boys and Ginny were laughing hysterically at Hermione’s ultimatum, but Draco was not one to back down from a challenge... just like her. He smirked and held out his hand, “It’s a deal.”

After they shook on it, Draco was practically pulled away by his father, who was clearly annoyed by Draco’s behavior and interaction with his friends. He waved goodbye and promised to catch everyone after the match. If luck was on his side tonight, he was about to get his first kiss from Hermione.

____________________

Hermione felt like they had climbed forever! Her feet didn’t necessarily ache, but her thighs were starting to feel a slight burn, and her chest was heaving from having to catch her breath constantly. While she wasn’t overweight or unhealthy, this clearly indicated she certainly wasn’t in any active or fit state. All complaints about the assent were put to the back of her mind as the group finally peaked at the very top of the stadium to find a magnificent view awaiting them. 

“This is amazing!” Ron exclaimed.

“Whoa! Look at the mascots!” Ginny cried out, pointing down to the field at the line of beautiful women dancing a traditional Bulgarian Folk Dance.

“Veela,” Mr. Weasley stated in annoyance as he smacked each of his sons on the back of their heads, “Now, now, don’t stare. They may look enchanting, but Veela can be very dangerous.”

Hermione studied the dancers as Mr. Weasley explained they were semi-human beings with magic of their own. Charlie commented on how this had to be a dirty ploy by the Bulgarian team and then snorted something about the Bulgarians not being confident in their performance that they had to stoop to such low tactics. She wasn’t paying attention to the Irish team’s mascot (ironically, they were leprechauns) as she continued to stare at the Veela. Objectively, she had to admit they were stunning and graceful as they continued to change positions in the dance. But it was their white-gold hair that had Hermione thinking of another blond wizard sitting in a private box several rows below her. She couldn’t help but wonder if Draco had been affected by the Veela as well. Had he tried to jump over the railing like Ron just did a moment ago? Did his eyes gloss over like Harry’s, or did his mouth begin to drool like Percy’s? Before she could spiral further, Hermione felt a sudden gust of wind as the Irish team flew right past their heads and made their way onto the field. The stadium erupted into applause, which didn’t die down until the Bulgarians made their presence known. Back and forth, the players zoomed through the sky, performing all sorts of dangerous tricks that made Hermione nervous to watch.

Despite not being the most diligent fan of the sport, Hermione found herself laughing, clapping, and cheering along with everyone else and enjoying the game, even though it went on for a very long time. It was so engaging that she actually did forget about the book Draco had teased her about carrying. And just like that, her mind was no longer on the players and had moved back on the topic of her best friend. He just… knew her so well. When she would think about the little things he did for her, like casting feather-light charms on her bag so she could carry more books or remembering how she took her tea, it caused little butterflies to flutter in her stomach. Thinking about Draco brought another soft smile to her face, which then abruptly vanished when she realized that the Irish lost the match. The party was eagerly making their way back down the steps when she saw Ginny walking in front of her. She felt a flash of anger at the redhead and slapped the girl in the arm.

“Ouch! Hermione! What was that for!?” Ginny cried out.

“You know what,” Hermione hissed at her, “A kiss? Really? Draco and I are just friends!”

Ginny had the audacity to roll her eyes before she bit out a sarcastic retort, “Oh, really? Just friends?”

“Ginny!” Hermione whined, “This is going to make our friendship so awkward! He doesn’t feel… like that… at least not for me.”

“Hermione,” Ginny softened her tone, “You could cut the pinning and tension between the two of you with a butter knife.”

The curly-haired witch gaped at the youngest Weasley, “What? No… I… that’s not….”

“Save the excuses, Hermione. But if Draco didn’t want to be kissed by you, then he wouldn’t have agreed to the bet. You know better than anyone that Draco only does what he wants to do. The question you need to be asking yourself is are you going to keep denying your attraction, or are you going to muscle up some of that Gryffindor courage and do something about it tonight?”

Hermione’s face blanked as she thought carefully about what Ginny said. It was surprisingly wise advice for someone her age. However, this topic was one that the muggleborn witch refused to debate with herself, for it accomplished nothing other than sending her into a mental spiral. She admitted, at least internally, during her second year that she had a crush on Draco, and those feelings didn’t necessarily go away during her third year. If anything, she only became confused by them, especially after the tea leaf reading during their first day of Divination. Instead of confronting the blond wizard, she pushed those thoughts down even further and tried to write them off as nothing more than a passing fancy, for they only left her confused and distracted. Not only that but she was terrified of what would happen if she did find the courage to act on them. Would it ruin her friendship with Draco? What if they weren’t real and just hormones like she had read about in the book on puberty her parents had given her? There were too many variables and too much risk involved for her to be reckless in making this decision. But another treacherous thought told her maybe Ginny was right, and she needed to be brave enough to find out.

____________________

At first, Draco was beyond excited when the Malfoys entered the private area and found their seats. He was sitting between his mother and father watching the field when the Veela came out and began their routine. A very rambunctious disagreement suddenly broke out between the Irish and Bulgarian delegates as the different groups started to yell about the presence of the Bulgarian Mascots. Draco was confused about why the Irish demanded the Veela be removed until his mother leaned over and explained everything to Draco.

“Do you not find the creatures attractive, son?” Lucius asked in a somewhat mocking tone, “Their looks, after all, are commonly known to hypnotize any man who finds women attractive.”

“Or to any wizard who is happily married to the woman of his dreams,” Narcissa said in a sickly-sweet tone as she gave Lucius a condescending smile.

“Of course, my dear,” Lucius conceded, giving Narcissa a genuine smile in return, “I was merely inquiring on Draco’s opinion, for he has never interacted with Veela before.”

Draco shrugged his shoulders, “They are gorgeous, but not enough to make me dive over the side of the railing to go after them.”

Narcissa nodded her head and smiled her approval at Draco’s answer. Lucius gave away nothing as the man sat there in silence with an impassive look on his face. What Draco didn’t voice was the real reason he didn’t find any of the Veela attractive was that none of them had thick and curly brown hair.

When the game began, Draco was forced to endure the match by sitting still and watching silently. His father told him that they would act dignified throughout the event and not favor one team over the other. This was the same reason he was given for why he had to wear black and not Bulgarian burgundy. Occasionally, people who were associates of his father would come up to them and initiate conversation. Lucius did the polite thing, and introduced Draco as his son. When they would turn to shake Draco’s hand, they always gave him the same compliment.

You look exactly like your father.

He had never been more thankful for Snape’s Occlumency lessons than in that moment. Each time someone compared him to Lucius made Draco want to lash out, but instead, he took each remark and locked them in the box towards the back of his mind. He didn’t relax until the match ended.

Evidently, luck was one hundred percent on Draco’s side that night, for Bulgaria did win with the world-famous Seeker, Viktor Krum, catching the snitch and ending the game at 170 to 160. Not even bothering to wait for his father or mother, Draco dashed down the metal stairs and stayed at the stadium entrance for Harry, Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasley party to make their way onto the grass. He tried to fight the urge to rock back and forth on his feet, but he was almost too anxious to see Hermione. When he spotted the group, everyone looked in good spirits and were happy to see him.

“You’re winnings, good sir!” George joked, handing a pouch of sickles to Draco.

“And now, someone else has to pay up,” Fred teased, making kissy noises at Hermione.

“Oh, hush,” she ordered, waving him off. Hesitantly, she turned towards Draco with nervous eyes and a slight flush that extended down the side of her neck.  

Not wanting to force her to do something that made her uncomfortable, Draco whispered, “You don’t have to if you don’t want you. We can call it even.”

Hermione rolled her eyes at their friends booing Draco for his chivalry, “No, your team won fair and square. A deal’s a deal, and I am a witch of my word.”

“If you’re sure,” Draco said before he turned his cheek towards her and pointed right at the center, “Alright, Hermione. Pay up.”

Draco waited in anticipation as Hermione rose on her tiptoes to place what he assumed was going to be a quick brush to his cheek but was instead shocked to feel her fingertips lightly grab hold of his chin and turn his head to face her. With his eyes still open, Draco watched as Hermione leaned in and briefly pecked his mouth before she scampered off with Ginny arm in arm. Even though it was all over in a second, Draco felt like he had just been doused in Felix Felicis. His heart was hammering so loud he swore everyone around him could hear it. And was it possible that his lips were tingling a little bit from where she had touched him? She didn’t linger long enough for Draco to register how her lips felt, but they were… maybe soft? Yeah, soft sounded right. And sweet too. He was in such a state of shock that he didn’t hear the boys whooping and hollering about him getting his first kiss until Ron patted him on the back.

“You still with us, mate?” the redhead asked.

“I think Hermione might have hit him with a stunner,” Harry joked.

“Har har,” Draco replied sarcastically, coming back to himself. The boys laughed at him again before Harry pointed out where the girls were heading.

“Come on! Let’s head back to the campsite. You have got to hear how Sirius came to get me from the Dursleys!”

____________________

“I can’t believe you just did that!” Ginny said loudly.

Unable to completely process what had just happened, Hermione let out a high-pitched giggle in response. She had her left arm linked through Ginny’s as they briskly walked away from the Weasley party towards the tent. Her mind was reeling with the impulsive decision to tilt Draco’s head so that she brushed his lips and not the cheek he initially offered. Hermione didn’t get a look at his face, for she closed her eyes at the last second before she ran off, too embarrassed to face her friend after what had happened. Part of her regretted not getting a look at Draco’s face after the fact, but another part of her was grateful because she possibly avoided the harsh sting of rejection. They would find out soon enough because the boys joined them not long after Ginny and she entered the extendable tent. Draco was boisterously laughing, to the point he almost couldn’t contain himself. Hermione frowned at him, chewing on her bottom lip in worry. Were they laughing about the kiss?

“What’s so funny?”

Draco gasped for air while he wiped tears out of his eyes, “Harry and Ron were telling me about how Sirius blew up the fake muggle fireplace when he went to collect Harry!”

Hermione’s shoulders visibly relaxed when she realized they weren’t talking about what just happened a few minutes earlier.  

“But what took the cake was that as we were leaving, Sirius dropped one of Fred’s experimental toffees for Dudley. His tongue grew three feet!” Harry explained.

While the boys were laughing, Hermione scowled at them, “That’s not funny. Sirius could have seriously hurt him and then been in so much trouble!”

Draco plopped down on the seat next to Hermione, “It’s all in good fun. I’m sure the toffee didn’t permanently affect Harry’s cousin.”

“Malfoy’s right!” Fred yelled from the small kitchen, “The effects wear off in a few hours.”

“At least… most of the time,” George added, the afterthought causing the twins to chuckle, “Besides, the git deserved it after all he has done to Harry.”

When Hermione chose not to comment, Draco took the opportunity to change the topic, “Where’s Sirius anyway? I would have thought he would want to be front and center to the game?”

Harry shook his head as a small smile formed on his face, “He and Remus went to America and decided to elope.”

“It’s really romantic,” Hermione said with a dreamy look at the same time Ron rolled his eyes.

“But they missed the 422nd Quidditch World Cup! The match was completely epic and a once and a lifetime opportunity. I mean… come on! How could they miss seeing the greatest Seeker in the world play? Honestly, there is no one like Krum.”  

“Krum?” George mocked Ron.

“More like dumb Krum,” Fred snickered.

“He’s like a bird, the way he rides the wind,” Ron went on, ignoring his brothers chanting and mockery, “He’s more than an athlete. He’s an artist!”

That was when Ginny, Percy, Charlie, and Bill Weasley entered the tent. Percy scoffed at his younger siblings and went to his bunk to pull out a book, presumably to ignore them for the rest of the night. Bill and Charlie were greeting Draco when Ginny came up behind Ron and threw an oversized Irish flag over his head.

“You sound like you’re in love, Ron,” the youngest Weasley joked, causing everyone in the tent to laugh. Shortly after, Fred and George started to sing as they poked at Ron some more.

“Viktor, I love you!”

“Viktor, I do!”

“When we’re apart, my heart beats only for you!”

Everyone in the tent joined in the last verse, laughing hysterically. The group was so loud that they almost couldn’t hear the commotion happening outside the tent.

“Sounds like the Irish are trying to keep their pride,” Charlie said, ducking to avoid a pillow being tossed around.

Fred, George, and Ron had engaged in a two-on-one pillow fight when Mr. Weasley came barreling into the tent.

“Stop! Stop it now!”

At the command, everyone froze and looked at the Weasley patriarch with concern.

“It’s not the Irish,” he said before turning to Bill, “You and Charlie need to get everyone out of here. Keep Ginny with you, and don’t let anyone split up!”

Hermione’s heart was pounding in her chest as Mr. Weasley drew his wand and ran out of the tent.

“Right, everyone, grab a coat. Quickly now! And stay together!” Bill ordered.

When they emerged from the tent, Hermione looked up to see half of the camping grounds were in flames as the smoke rose through the atmosphere. It was complete chaos. People were crying and running frantically in all directions as many screamed, “Run! It’s the Death Eaters! Run!”

“Did he just say Death Eaters?” Draco asked, trying to yell over the crowd.

“Yeah, he did,” Harry answered in a stern tone.

“What are they doing here?” Ron questioned as they tried to keep up while moving further away from the quickly spreading fire.

It was hard to see and breathe with the amount of smoke that had filled the air, but when Hermione looked up again, she saw a group of wizards dressed in black robes wearing skull masks and pointed black hats. One of them was holding a wand high above his head and had it pointed at a family suspended in the air for the masses to see. She screamed when she realized who they were and what the Death Eaters would do to them.

“Hermione! Are you alright?” Draco asked as he turned her around and scanned her body for any blood or marks.

“They’re muggles!” she shouted, pointing at the group not too far from them.

Sensing what she was about to do, Draco grabbed her around the waist and pulled her away from the Death Eaters.

“Let go of me! Draco! Get off of me!” Hermione screamed as she struggled in his grasp and tried to hit him.

“No!” Draco yelled back, “Hermione, you can’t go after them!”

He managed to keep pace with Ron and Harry, despite a flailing and kicking Hermione in his arms. They found a grove of trees just off the path of the campsites, where they ducked down and hid somewhat concealed in the brush.

“We lost Bill, Charlie, Percy, Ginny, Fred, and George,” Ron panted, ticking his family off with his fingers.

Hermione was no longer screaming. She was trying to catch her breath, and her cheeks were tear-stained when she whispered, “They were going to kill those Muggles. That poor family.”

Draco turned her around and hugged her to his chest. He started to draw soothing circles on her back when he whispered in her ear, “I know. Hermione. It’s going to be okay.”

She pulled back to look up at him, “How do you know that? You can’t make promises you can’t keep, Draco.”

His eyes misted over as he took a shaky breath, “You’re right. I don’t know that. But that doesn’t change the fact that you can’t help them either, Hermione. If you try running at them, wand raised, they will hurt you without hesitation.”

Hermione took a second to register what Draco was saying. Rationally, she knew he was right, but that didn’t change how she felt. She was furious. Not only at herself for not being able to do something, but at the fact that there was such embedded prejudice in the Wizarding World and that some magical folk believed Muggles should be eradicated. Those same people also thought she wasn’t a real witch and had somehow stolen her magic from those who were “more worthy.” With a look of defeat in her eyes, she accepted what Draco was saying and leaned her tired head forward on his shoulder.

As Draco went back to comforting Hermione, Harry gasped, “My wand! I lost it!”

“You have got to be kidding, mate!” Ron said, exasperated.

“Do you think it fell out?” Draco asked.

Hermione’s head was still on Draco’s shoulder as she turned to face Harry. She wiped her nose and cleared her throat, “Are you sure you didn’t leave it in the tent?”

Harry shook his head when Ron gasped, “Who’s that?”

Standing a few feet in front of them was an unhinged man in a trench coat. In one hand, he was holding a Death Eater mask, and in the other, he gripped a wand that looked similar to Harry’s.

“He’s got my wand!” Harry hissed. He went running after him when Ron grabbed the dark-haired wizard and pulled him down.

The man seemed to notice the noise and turned around to see the four of them trying to hide in the tree line. Hermione felt like her heart stopped beating. She was shaking and couldn’t make her legs move. Any moment now, the Death Eater was going to kill them, but it never came. Instead, he smiled sinisterly at them and raised the wand high above his head.

“Morsmordre!”

A flash of green shot up into the sky and took the shape of a skull. The jaw bone opened up, and a snake started to slither out of the mouth.

“What is that?” Ron gasped.

“It’s the Dark Mark,” Draco revealed, shuddering at the sight. He pulled Hermione a little bit closer to him as he watched the snake start to form a figure 8 and twist in a knot. It was taking the exact shape of his father’s tattoo.

“Hey! He’s gone, and I think he left my wand!” Harry stated, standing up from where he fell to the ground. Ron went with him to search the spot where the man stood. Before Draco or Hermione could stop them, the boys were already making their way across the short distance to retrieve Harry’s wand.

Hermione shot up, “Harry! Ron! What are you two doing?”

As the words left Hermione’s mouth, Draco saw several Aurors apparitate around Harry and Ron.

“Duck!” Draco shouted just in time for the boys to react. As they huddled to the ground, the Aurors started shooting Stupefys all around them, trying to knock the boys out. Draco and Hermione stood up and tried to get the Aurors attention, but they were not paying any attention to them. It wasn’t until Mr. Weasley came running into the circle and yelled that it was his son they were firing towards that the squadron lowered their wands.

“Harry! Ron! Are you alright? What happened?” Mr. Weasley was panting as he asked his question.

“We got lost and then hid in the trees,” Ron explained.

“Which one of you conjured it?” a stern voice cut in. Draco recognized the man as a Ministry official that his father had hosted at the Manor before. The older man was none other than Mr. Barty Crouch Sr., head of the Office of International Magical Cooperation.

“Crouch, you can’t possi-,” Mr. Weasley tried to explain, but Crouch wasn’t listening. He kept waving his wand back and forth between Ron and Harry, ready to force a confession if necessary.

“Do not lie! You have been discovered at the scene of the crime!”

“Crouch! They are children!” Mr. Weasley shouted at him.

“Crime? What Crime?” Hermione asked. She and Draco emerged from the hiding spot and moved closer to Ron and Harry.

Crouch pointed his wand at her, causing Hermione to stumble further back into Draco, “Was it you? Did you conjure the Dark Mark?”

“What?!? No!” Hermione yelled. She whimpered a little bit when Crouch moved closer, his wand directly in between her eyes.

“We didn’t summon it!” Draco yelled, “It was a man. Standing where Harry and Ron are now. Harry dropped his wand when we were running away.”

“How convenient. A man standing there and using one of your wands,” Crouch snapped sarcastically.

“It’s the truth!” Draco insisted. He pushed himself in front of Hermione so that Crouch’s wand was now pointed at his chest.

“He said an… incantation and had a mask in his hand,” Ron said shakily.

Crouch turned around and started marching towards the redheaded boy, “Hold out your wands. Both of you.”

Ron trembled as he produced his willow wand, holding it out in the palm of his hand.

“Prior incantato!”

Wisps of gold light shot out from Crouch’s wand and enveloped Ron’s willow wood. The charm forced an echo of the last spell performed to display before the crowd. For Ron, it was the Lumos spell, as evident by white light illuminated from the tip of his wand. Disappointed, Crouch turned to Harry.

“And now yours, boy.”

“I told you I don’t have it,” Harry said, “I got up thinking the man dropped my wand, but it wasn’t here.”

Crouch was furious and looked ready to yell something else when another man emerged from the forest.

“Don’t shoot! It’s only me! The stunners caught someone in the woods!”

“Oh, Amos! Please tell me you have answers,” Mr. Weasley said in a tired voice. Draco recognized the man from earlier when Fred pointed out Cedric Diggory. They went to school with Cedric, so Draco deduced that Amos must have been their classmate’s father.

“I do! We found a house-elf with a wand!” Mr. Diggory exclaimed.

There were many protests amongst the Aurors and Ministry officials, but the crowd couldn’t deny the evidence as Mr. Diggory came closer. He was indeed carrying a passed-out female house-elf clutching a wand.

“That’s my wand!” Harry exclaimed.

Crouch looked like he was about ready to grab Harry and start interrogating him right there when there was another pop of apparition. Ludo Bagman, the head of the Department for Magical Games and Sports (also the organizer for the World Cup), came into the clearing demanding to know what was going on. The young Gryffindors watched as he got into a fight with Crouch and Diggory when Mr. Weasley finally stepped in.

“Gentleman, perhaps it would be a better use of everybody’s time if we wake up the house-elf?”

Amos cleared his throat, “I’m the head of Magical Creatures. I’ll do it.”

Hermione felt like she was holding her breath as she watched Mr. Diggory point his wand and use a reviving charm on the elf. His questions started simple, like identify yourself and which family you serve. Then he moved into asking the elf, Winky was her name, how she came into possession of a wand.

“Wand? No, Winky is a good elf! Winky is not doing it, sir! Winky would never use the magic of her masters,” the elf squeaked.

“You were found with this wand in your hand. Where did you get it?” Diggory asked.

“I… Winky does not know,” she replied.

Bagman stepped forward and cast the prior incantato spell. A puff of green smoke shot out of the wand and took the shape of a skull and snake. The crowd gasped when Hermione yelled at the men.

“It wasn’t her! It was a man!”

The adults ignored her as Diggory explained to the elf that she had been caught redhanded and the consequences she could face for using a wizard’s wand. Winky still denied the charges when Bagman spoke up.

“One minute, isn’t that your elf, Crouch? I recognize her from earlier. She was saving your seat!”

Crouch huffed, “And what are you insinuating?”

Bagman raised an eyebrow at Crouch, “That even if your elf had a wand, how would she have learned the spell?”

“I would never teach my elf any magic. Be very careful what your next words are, Bagman, for if you try and suggest that I thought my elf how to conjure the Dark Mark, then I suggest you look at my long and lustrous career to see my feelings on such a symbol,” Crouch spat.

“Of course, Mr. Crouch,” Amos interjected, trying to placate the man before he shot Ludo a stern look, “No one would insinuate such a thing.” 

“Maybe there is another solution, “Mr. Weasley said diplomatically, “Perhaps Winky didn’t conjure it but merely picked up the wand that did?”

Diggory turned back to address Winky, “Elf, where did you pick up Harry Potter’s wand?”

“I… I is finding it there, sir,” she whispered.

“You see! Whosever conjured the Mark could have Disapparated right after they’d done it, leaving Harry’s wand behind. A clever thing to do, not using their own wand, which would have betrayed them. And Winky here had the misfortune to come across the wand moments later and pick it up!” Mr. Weasley reasoned.

“But then, she’d have been only a few feet away from the real culprit!” Bagman pointed out.

“Elf, did you see anyone?” Mr. Diggory questioned. 

Winky trembled under the harsh tone that Mr. Diggory employed and started crying, “I is seeing no one, sir… no one….”

“Amos,” Mr. Crouch curtly said, “If this were under normal circumstances, I would be fully supportive of you taking Winky in for questioning, but I am asking you to allow me to handle this matter privately.”

Mr. Diggory appeared to contemplate Mr. Crouch’s request for a moment before the man relented, “Very well.”

“If that’s all,” Mr. Weasley said, taking Harry’s wand from Amos, “I would like to take the children back to the Burrow for the night.”

Mr. Crouch nodded at Mr. Weasley, “Of course, Arthur. You all may go.”

As Mr. Weasley urged Harry, Ron, Draco, and Hermione out of the clearing and back to the Portkey, Hermione could hear Winky sobbing hysterically. She was itching to turn around and beg them not to punish the elf when Draco slipped an arm around her shoulders and shook his head. Reluctantly, Hermione kept pace with the party and didn’t look back. She shed a few tears when she heard Mr. Crouch yelling at Winky and mourned for the little creature when she begged not to be given clothing.

Chapter Text

Draco had never been to the Burrow before, but upon looking at the crooked building in the Devon countryside, he couldn't help but feel like Ron did not describe the place accurately. Everything about it had Draco thinking the dwelling was the exact opposite of the Manor, which only made Draco love the place even more. Where the Manor was grandiose, the Burrow was humble. Where Malfoy Manor was ornate and cold, the Burrow was inviting and warm.

Draco followed the procession and stepped through the back door into the kitchen. He smiled upon seeing pots and pans washing themselves magically and almost laughed out loud at seeing a pair of charmed knitting needles clicking and clacking away on the overstuffed recliner. Now he knew where Hermione picked up the hobby. The next item that caught his attention was the large grandfather clock on his right near the staircase. Draco walked over and became fascinated by the hands as they moved around in a circle. Each handle had a picture of a family member on the end, and instead of telling time, the clock informed the viewer of a person's current location or status. His smile faltered a little bit as he watched Ron's and Mr. Weasley's picture move from "mortal peril" to "home." Draco jumped when he felt someone pat his shoulder. He looked over to see it was Ron giving him a soft smile.

"Well, it's not a fancy estate, but it's home."

Draco returned the smile, "I think it's brilliant."

Harry laughed, "I said the same thing the first time I came here."

"Where are they, Arthur? Are the rest of the children alright?" Molly Weasley swiftly rounded the corner and slumped her shoulders in relief when she found the four of them standing near the clock. Mr. Weasley followed not far behind her.

"All good, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said as he accepted a tight hug from the Weasley matriarch.

"Thank goodness you all are alright," Mrs. Weasley consoled as she moved between them to embrace Ron, then Hermione. She turned to Draco and surprised the blond wizard by also pulling him into a bear-like hug, "And welcome, Draco! We are so happy to have you here with us."

Draco tried not to show how chocked up he felt by Mrs. Weasley's open acceptance. He coughed a few times, clearing his throat, "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley."

"Children, it's been a long night. Perhaps we should all head to bed," Mr. Weasley suggested with a yawn.

"But what about the Mark?" Ron asked.

"And the man in the field?" Harry questioned.

"Or Winky? What is going to happen to her?" Hermione added.

Mr. Weasley sighed, "We can all discuss that in the morning. For now, try to get some sleep."

As he watched Harry, Ron, and Hermione walk up the stairs, he turned towards Molly and Arthur Weasley, "If… there is no room... I can use the floo and go home or… maybe the Leaky Cauld…."

Molly waved him off, "Oh nonsense! Draco, you are more than welcome in our home. I was just trying to think where to put you."

"He could share a room with Percy?" Arthur proposed, but the statement came out as more of a question.

Molly shook her head, "No, he has work in the morning. He can't stay with Ron and Harry. George and Fred are using our spare cots, so he can't share with Bill and Charlie. Well, I guess, do you mind the couch? I can get you some extra blankets to make it more comfortable."

Draco gave her a meek smile, "That would be great. Thank you, Mrs. Weasley."

"You are more than welcome, dear. I'll be back in a jiff."

When Mrs. Weasley left, Draco felt Mr. Weasley's piercing eyes on him. Even though the man looked utterly exhausted, he could tell that the Weasley Patriarch had a question ready on the tip of his tongue. Draco steeled himself to address the proverbial elephant that was in the room, "I know what you want to ask, Mr. Weasley. I'm afraid I don't know if my father was part of the group tonight, but it wouldn't surprise me if he were… or even if he organized it."

Mr. Weasley nodded, "Thank you for telling me, Draco."

"I know you don't really trust me, and I want you to know that I don't blame you," Draco trailed off as his throat threatened to close in on him. His Occlumency was failing him as he felt the box of plaudits he had tucked in the back of his mind rattling, wanting to break open. "People who know my father can't help but see him when they look at me."

Mr. Weasley stopped moving up the stairs and turned back around to face Draco. What happened next completely shocked the young Gryffindor. Arthur Weasley suddenly embraced him in a way that a father would hug his child, "Oh, son. I know. I know that's not true. I'm sorry that I have made you feel that way."

The box broke open. Draco couldn't help the tears that started to fall freely from his eyes as he allowed himself to be hurt and angry. He pulled back to look at Mr. Weasley, finding the semi-suspicious look replaced with that of concern.

"Tonight, when we were at the match… that's all anyone could say to me. 'You look just like your father.' They thought they were complimenting me, but all I wanted to do was scream at them and tell them I'm not anything like him!”

“Shh, it’s alright, son,” Arthur shushed. He tried to move forward to embrace Draco again, but the blond wizard was so worked up he couldn’t stop pacing across the creaky floorboards.

“I feel like I have to prove constantly I'm not this … foul, loathsome… evil cockroach that wants to follow in my father's footsteps. People keep looking at me as if they are expecting me to… turn a page one day and start acting like him. You know, some of his associates used to joke that I was Death Eater in the making? Or when people want to bully me in school they say things like "mini-Death Eater"? They all hurt so much…."

Arthur stepped in front of Draco and pulled him in for a tight hug, trying to soothe the young man, "It's going to be alright, Draco. You're right, you aren't anything like Lucius, and I find it hard-pressed to believe you will one day snap and become him. You know why?"

Draco shook his head.

"Because you keep making all the right choices, despite what everyone believes you capable of. You defend Hermione when someone comments on her blood status. You stood alongside Harry and Ron without a care for your own safety. Bloody hell, you helped saved my only daughter from a Basilisk in your second year! Those are not the actions of Lucius Malfoy. That, very much, is the bravery and courage of you and you alone, Draco."

Draco wiped the tears from his eyes as he gave Mr. Weasley a soft smile, "Hermione said something similar."

Arthur smiled back at him, "And she's usually right, yeah? Now, for tonight, I want you to not worry about this. Instead, go to bed with the knowledge that your actions define your character and not the opinions of others. And Draco. You are like family to us, and while you are here… you are safe. I meant what I said to you two years ago in the bookshop. You will always be welcomed here."

It was then Mrs. Weasley emerged from the staircase and handed Draco two blankets and a pillow as well as some extra pajamas that were as close to his size as possible. When the Weasleys went to bed, Draco quickly changed and made himself comfortable. He felt like he just laid his head down when he heard the floorboards quietly creak. He cracked one eye open to find Hermione standing in front of him.

Draco shot up, "Is everything alright?"

Hermione shook her head, "I can't sleep."

Draco pulled the blanket back, "Come here."

Hermione didn't hesitate as she laid down in Draco's arms. Her voice was hoarse as she explained what was bothering her, "I can't stop thinking about Winky. How… horrid, they all were to her."

Draco nodded, "My father was worse to Dobby."

She turned in his arms to look over her shoulder, "What do you think will going to happen to her? And don't try to spare my feelings. I felt you tense up just now when I asked."

Draco gulped, "She will… most likely be turned over to the Office for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry for questioning. Since it sounds like Mr. Crouch has freed her, then the office will most likely focus on… relocating her to a suitable family."

"You mean a family who is willing to pay for her," Hermione spat.

"Yes," Draco croaked.

Hermione sighed, "We have got to do something about house-elf slavery. If we can't help Winky, then there has to be some way we can help other elves."

Draco tried not to laugh as her words slurred with sleep. Instead, he gave her a reassuring squeeze before whispering in her ear to sleep. He had only been asleep for a few hours when Mr. and Mrs. Weasley woke him by coming down the stairs to let someone in that was knocking on the back door.

"Where is he? Is he alright?" the voice of his mother was quiet but frantic as it carried from the kitchen.

"It's alright, Narcissa. Draco's asleep on the couch," Molly assured her, "Do you all want a cup of tea?"

"Tea would be lovely. Thank you, Molly," a woman that Draco did not recognize said. Since the back of the couch was concealing him and Hermione, Draco fully opened his eyes and tried to remain still as he listened to the conversation.

"How is Harry?" the voice belonged to Sirius. How did he get back from America so quickly? Did he convince the MACUSA to give him and Remus an emergency portkey?

"He had quite a frightful night. As did all the children," Arthur said drowsily.

"I can only imagine. I was treating burn marks and gashes all night in the Emergency Department at Saint Mungo's," the unknown woman revealed. So, she was a healer that his mother must be personally acquainted with. He knew his mother volunteered and met with the hospital board at Saint Mungo's often to organize some of their fundraisers. What was surprising though was that his mother evidently knew this healer so well, but Draco had never met her. 

"Oh, goodness, Andy. I'm so sorry! I didn't realize you hadn't slept when I came knocking on your door this morning," Narcissa said apologetically.

"Nonsense, Cissy. I was more than happy to take you to the Burrow to look for Draco," the woman, Andy, replied. The name didn't sound familiar but Draco got a sense it was a nickname to someone he should know. 

Narcissa chuckled, "He was very excited to see his friends were at the match last night and got away from Lucius and me as soon as possible. Thank you for keeping him safe."

"Of course, Narcissa. Anytime," Mr. Weasley proclaimed. 

"Can't imagine why he'd want to get away from old Lucy… ouch! Moony!" Sirius hissed. Draco tensed a bit when he felt Hermione move in his arms. She had shifted sometime in the night and was now facing him. Her breath was warm as she let out little puffs against his chest that she tried to keep in an even rhythm so she wouldn't blow their cover. The two made eye contact for a moment before silently going back to listening to the adults' conversation.

"Don't be rude, Padfoot," Lupin chastised.

"It's okay, Remus. Truthfully, I'm surprised Draco didn't try to sneak away earlier. After he ran out of the Minister's box, and we saw he was with his friends, Lucius left me with Silvia Fudge to make my way home. I should have known he was up to something when he didn't come back to the Manor last night," Narcissa whispered sadly, "I honestly thought he was going to collect Draco and come straight home." 

"Do you think he cast the Dark Mark?" Arthur asked.

"I don't know. I left before the revel broke out."

"What do you mean by revel?" Andy asked.

There was a tense silence in the room before Narcissa spoke, "During the first war, some of the Dark Lord's followers liked to… partake in some… unsavory activities."

"What she means, Andy is that his supporters would form hunting parties and kill muggles for fun," Remus finished for Narcissa.

"The mark would go into the sky when the revel was… completed," Narcissa whispered as her voice croaked into a sob.

Andy gasped, "I had no idea the extent. I thought it was just limited to muggleborn witches and wizards. Those disappearances were what led Ted to go into hiding with the Order, but I didn't know they were kidnapping and murdering muggles as well."

"Those of us trying to help the muggle family that the Death Eaters took last night were, unfortunately, too late," Arthur informed them somberly.

Another thick silence fell over the room as Draco felt Hermione stiffen in his arms. He could see she was trying not to cry at hearing the muggle family had been murdered at the World Cup. If Draco could move, he would have drawn comforting circles on her back or maybe whispered in her ear that her family would be alright because he knew that was where her thoughts were spiraling towards. He wanted to tell her so badly that she would be okay and he would protect her. She needed to know that he wouldn't let those monsters hurt her.

"Was Lucius part of the revel, Narcissa?" Arthur asked, restarting the conversation.

"Oh, thank you, Molly," Narcissa paused to take a sip of tea before continuing, "If you asked me if he was part of the group last night, I would be inclined to say yes, without a doubt. As to him casting the Dark Mark… I would like to believe the man I married wouldn't be that stupid."

Sirius snorted, "I've got two words for you, Cissy: Samhain 1973. You can only give an inbred git so much credit."

"Will you mind your language, cousin?" Andy ordered, trying not to laugh at the memory, "Honestly, Remus. I don't know why you agreed to marry him."

"You wound me, Andy!" Sirius replied with faux hurt in his tone, "I'll have you know that I am still quite dashing and can be very charming."

Lupin laughed, "Sarcastic and inappropriate quips seem like a fair price to pay if it means a life with true love."

"Oh, my. I better get breakfast started. You all are more than welcomed to stay," Molly announced suddenly as her chair scraped against the floor.

"Do you mind waking Draco while you're up? That is if it's not too much trouble, Molly," Narcissa asked.

"Not at all," Molly replied.

As she was making the short distance into the living room, Draco and Hermione quickly shut their eyes and tried to pretend they were still asleep. Draco's heart was pounding so loudly in his chest, he thought for sure Mrs. Weasley could hear it and would catch on right away to the fact that he and Hermione had listened to the whole conversation, but to his surprise, Mrs. Weasley didn't say anything. Instead, she gasped and called Narcissa over.

"What is it, Molly?" Narcissa questioned as she got up.

Mrs. Weasley chuckled, "Looks like someone had a visitor last night."

"I wondered how long those two were going to wait until they figured it out. You know, Draco's had a crush on her since he was 11."

Draco tried to discretely bite his tongue without moving at his mother's statement. How did she know how he felt about Hermione? It wasn't like she had ever met his best friend, and he gave nothing away in his letters home that would indicate he had deeper feelings. It was highly frustrating to have to keep still and not correct her. Had he opened them, he would have found a soft, pleasant smile on Hermione's face at hearing his mother's admission.

"You don't say," Molly chortled conspiratorially.

"Oh yes, in fact, when he was a baby, his favorite game to play was to pretend to be asleep, and I would wake him up just like…."

"Alright! Mother, please don't! I'm awake," Draco admitted, shooting straight up to avoid the spritz of water his mother would conjure and flick at his face. It was a fond memory that he had of his mother, and he could still recall laughing as the cool drops hit his cheeks and forehead. Hermione scrambled off the couch and crossed her arms in front of her chest, clearly humiliated at being caught sleeping in a compromising position with him. Draco lazily stood up next to Hermione. His face had a determined look that almost dared his mother to say something about the impropriety of the situation. He could tell by her impassive look that she was not entirely pleased at the state she had found them in.

"That will teach you to eavesdrop," Narcissa said with a raised eyebrow before she turned to Hermione, "I don't believe we have formally met, my dear. I'm Draco's mother."

"Oh! Of course! It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione stuttered, shaking Narcissa's hand, "I'm so sorry… I just… couldn't sleep last night, and Draco was comforting me when I fell asleep, and…." 

"Hermione, dear. Why don't you head upstairs and wake everyone? Let them know breakfast will be ready soon," Mrs. Weasley suggested, saving Hermione from her ramblings and any further embarrassment from his mother.

"Right," Hermione muttered, ducking her head in shame as she quickly made her way up the stairs.

Narcissa turned back to Draco, "I've got some spare clothing for you. How about you use the lavatory and change? There is someone I want you to meet when you come back down."

"Right away, mother," Draco replied, taking the clothes and following Hermione upstairs.

With the children off the main floor, Sirius took the opportunity to playfully tease his cousin, "Merlin's beard, Cissy! Did you have to be so harsh on the boy?"

"Oh, you hush, Sirius. It is my right as a parent to embarrass my child in front of his crush at least once," she retorted in a bossy tone before coming over to sit beside Andromeda.

"Besides, you'll do the exact same thing to Harry here any day now," Andromeda added with a knowing glint in her eye.

"Oh no! I taught Harry this past year and can say for a fact he does not have a crush on anyone," Remus affirmed.

"That you know of," Narcissa teased, earning cackles from everyone in the room except for Remus.

That was how Draco, Harry, and Percy found the group in the kitchen.

"Percy, dear. Won't you stay for breakfast?" Mrs. Weasley called out to him as he picked up an apple and headed towards the fireplace.

"Sorry, Mum. I can't stay. The office will be a nightmare after yesterday's events, and I already have so much work to catch up on!" Without another word, Percy shouted his destination and flooed away when Hermione came down the stairs. She went straight over to the stove and started helping Mrs. Weasley finish up the dishes.

Narcissa looked up at Arthur, "He's working with Crouch in the Office of International Magical Cooperation?"

Mr. Weasley nodded his head when Andromeda smiled at him, "You and Molly must be very proud of him."

Harry greeted his godparents while Draco was staring at the woman sitting next to his mother. He almost couldn't believe it. The voice that Draco didn't know, the healer who was addressed as Andy, was the woman he had been forbidden to meet. She had the same dark curls as the picture he found at Christmas in his family's library, but her face looked a bit older, as evident by the faint wrinkles on her forehead and around he eyes. Except this wasn't a moving photograph. This was his Aunt Andromeda in the flesh, casually sitting in the Weasley's kitchen next to his mother like there wasn't such a tumultuous family history between them. 

"Ah, Draco. I want you to meet your Aunt Andromeda," Narcissa introduced with a broad smile on her face.

Andromeda stood up from the table and walked cautiously over to the young blond wizard. Tears started to pool in the corner of her eyes as she looked Draco over from head to toe, "I can't believe how much you have grown, my dragon. The last time I saw you was when you were…."

"A baby," Draco cut in, his voice cracking, "I know."

He felt overwhelmed with emotion as his aunt pulled him into a tight embrace. It was like pieces of Draco's life he knew were missing were finally being put back together. First by saving Sirius and now being able to meet Andromeda. He pulled back from her, trying not to cry.

"I have so many questions."

Andromeda nodded, "And I have so many answers, hopefully."

Draco chuckled as he followed her and took a seat at the large table.

"Alright! Everyone, find a seat. The last ones down have to eat in the living room!" Mrs. Weasley shouted so her voice could carry up the stairs. Hermione was helping her set plates and dishes of food on the large wooden table before she took a seat next to Andromeda.

"And you must be, Hermione, correct?" she asked the young Gryffindor girl.

"I am. It's nice to meet you. I helped Draco with the location spell so he could send you the letter," Hermione acknowledged, shaking Andromeda's hand.

Andromeda chuckled, "Draco said as much in his letter. You must be top of your class."

Draco let out a snort, "She wishes."

Hermione gave him a playful scoff, "Oh, don't mind him. Since first year, we've had a… competition to see which one would place the top of our class. He's just a little put out we keep tying."

"Seriously! It's every year!" Draco complained, "It's kind of annoying, actually."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "It's not annoying. You just want to win the pot Ron started."

"I think it's adorable," Narcissa interjected, "And think of it this way, by you both being in the top spot, you've made the headmaster's decision significantly easier when choosing prefects come your fifth year. If you keep it up, you both might even be selected for Head Boy and Head Girl."

The comment silenced Draco and Hermione, making both of them blush. Andromeda used the mealtime to start telling Draco her and Narcissa's story. The two Black sisters took turns describing the cruel and challenging childhood they endured before revealing the events that led up to Andromeda's disownment.

"I was in my fifth year when I officially met a Hufflepuff muggleborn wizard named Edward Tonks," his aunt began. "He was very bright and kind to everyone he encountered, especially when members of Slytherin house were not. In our seventh year, the headmaster picked Ted and me to be Head Boy and Head Girl, but by then, I knew I was in love with him."

"What happened then?" Draco asked.

"Ted and I started dating," Andromeda said with nonchalance.

Draco fought the urge to snap something sarcastic to her but was thankfully saved by his mother picking up the story.

"I was 15 at the time and found out right after Christmas break. Naturally, of course, I was furious with Andromeda, especially since our mother and father were in marriage contract negotiations with the Rowle family."

Andromeda shuddered, "I'm sure as you have seen at your mother's parties how the Rowle's behave. Not to mention I wasn't going to marry a stranger who ended up supporting You-Know-Who."

Narcissa looked at her sister with a face full of regret, "I didn't understand at the time why Andromeda was so adamant about not accepting the contract. You see, Draco, it was all we've ever known and what was expected of us growing up."

"Were you and father arranged?" Draco asked.

"We were," Narcissa nodded, "But Lucius and I are also the exception to the rule. I know it's hard to believe, but your father actually courted me while we were in school. Our contract was finalized when he graduated. At the time, I was 16 and still had two years left at Hogwarts, but I was very much in love with him by the time we married. But that is not the point of this story. We are focusing on Andy."

Andromeda gave her sister a kind smile, "Your grandmother didn't support my dream of going into the healing program at St. Mungo's, so I ran away after graduation and then married Ted two years later. Cissy didn't talk to me that entire time until she saw my wedding announcement in the paper."

"I secretly wrote your aunt and asked to meet her because I wanted answers. I needed to see for myself that your aunt was miserable and made the worst mistake of her life. Surprisingly, Andy took me to the home she and Ted had just purchased, and she spent all night proving me wrong as we reconnected," Narcissa paused to take a breath and steady herself, "When I saw how happy she was… It made me question why we were fighting so hard to keep these blood purity ideals intact and why I wasn't allowed to love my sister for who she was or the choices she made."

"Your mother and I kept in contact ever since, though not as frequently as I would have liked," Andromeda said with a hint of disdain in her tone.

"As you probably already guessed, Draco, your father is the reason behind that," Narcissa added.

The conversation ended when the meal was finished. Sirius and Remus took Harry back home while Narcissa said goodbye to Molly and Arthur. Draco took the opportunity to say goodbye to his friends.

"Will you be going back to London?" Draco asked Hermione.

She nodded, "Arthur will take me through the floo and meet my parents outside the Leaky Cauldron on the Muggle side later this afternoon."

He gave her one final hug before whispering in her ear, "Please be careful."

"You too," Hermione whispered back.

With that, the Malfoy's departed with a quick apparition home to Manor. Due to the disorientation, Draco stumbled on his feet for a second until his vision finally cleared. He found himself in the travel parlor and came face to face with his enraged father. Draco was extremely thankful at that moment that his mother advised him to start raising his mental shields before reaching the Manor. 

"And where… exactly have you been?" Lucius spat, looking between his son and wife before settling on Draco, "I'll have you know; it was extremely disrespectful of you to wander off like you did las…."

"Draco, darling," Narcissa interrupted in a cool tone, "Why don't you run along upstairs and get some rest. We can discuss plans regarding your school supplies tonight at dinner."

Not wanting to argue with his mother, Draco dashed out of the room and rounded the corner. He stopped and made some footfalls in place before he crouched down behind a bust to listen to the conversation through the open crack of the door.

"Cissa, what…"

"Where have you been?" his mother questioned sharply.

There was a pause before Lucius finally spoke. "I've been home, obviously. I can't say the same for you."

Narcissa scoffed, "Home? Home?!"

"Please, do lower your voice," Lucius demanded. He was clearly irritated by his mother's hysteria. 

"Do. Not. Tell me. To lower. My. Voice." his mother emphasized in a dangerous tone.

There was another prolonged silence until it was broken by his mother sighing.

"You were not home when I left the property this morning to find our son. I left shortly before seven, and you were still not here. Where were you last night?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Lucius shot back.

Narcissa sighed again, "I guess that's all the confirmation I need."

Draco heard the click of her heels on the floor, prompting him to almost bolt from his hiding spot when Lucius called out to her.

"And where exactly were you and Draco this morning that required you to miss breakfast?"

"I fail to see how you have a right to that information seeing as you had so little regard for mine and Draco's whereabouts last night," his mother retaliated viciously. He could picture the sneer his father likely had on his face as his mother continued her tirade, "but Draco is fine, in case you were wondering. Arthur Weasley took him to his home and cared for him."

"That's where you've been? Consorting with blood traitors?" Lucius hissed.

"I've been looking for our son and thanking the people who saved his life," Narcissa yelled. There was another pause in the conversation until Narcissa spoke, "Draco was asleep, so I had a cup of tea with Mrs. Weasley until it was time to wake him and take Draco home."

Lucius huffed, "He shouldn't have been there in the first place."

"And he wouldn't have been there had you found him and taken him home after the match instead of getting drunk and participating in the revel!" Narcissa shouted.

"He should have gone home with you," Lucius accused, "You should have collected him before he ran off!"

"Of course, Lucius. Blame me. Never mind the fact you practically ordered me to go home with Sylvia the minute we saw Draco kissing his best freind!"

Draco froze. That was not something he had expected his parents to see. He was so focused on Hermione at that moment that he had no idea his parents had made their way down the stadium steps so quickly! How did they react when they saw Hermione kiss him? Judging by his mother's behavior this morning, he could safely assume she was tolerating the idea of him having a relationship with Hermione. 

On the other hand, his father knew she was a muggleborn and had yet to express any willingness to change his views. Exhibit A was his second year when the man tried to help unleash a monster to kill muggleborn students. Draco couldn't help but wonder if seeing Hermione kiss him had caused Lucius to have an extreme reaction and that, maybe… the revel had been a result of his father's anger? The thought made guilt sink down into his stomach like a stone sinking below the water. Draco felt bile start to form in the back of his throat so acidic that it took all his remaining strength to keep it down. He instead focused on taking calming, quiet breaths as he continued to listen to his parents argue.

"Those... friends of his have tainted him. I should have pulled him out of Gryffindor the day after he was sorted," Lucius lamented.

His mother's heels clicked again on the hardwood floor. As soon as the sound stopped, she spoke, "And then he would have gone to school in another country, and all of us would have been miserable. The distance between Wiltshire and Scotland is hard enough. I can't imagine how we would have managed if Draco had gone to Bulgaria."

"He could still change his mind. Perhaps when he sees the skills they learn in Dumstrang… he might want to transfer after this year," Lucius said.

Draco furrowed his brows, confused by the statement. He leaned in further to try and hear better.

"What do you mean, Lucius? I thought this topic was resolved," Narcissa replied, confusion evident in her tone.

Lucius sighed, "It is nothing we need to worry about now, but things are changing, Cissa. Draco is in a dangerous position and one that will not show him mercy when the Dark Lord returns."

"Not this again…" Narcissa huffed, but Lucius cut her off.

"He will return, Cissa," Lucius said ominously, "It is only a matter of time."

Chapter Text

Draco didn't know how to feel about his father's belief that Lord Voldemort would be returning from the dead any day now. Without a doubt, it was troubling to contemplate, and if the events of the World Cup meant anything, then there appeared to be others that thought the same thing about the Dark Lord's return. Even with recent events, was there real cause for concern, or was this just the work of former Death Eaters feeling nostalgic? This question is what circled through Draco's mind as he prepared to head back to Hogwarts for his fourth year. 

Much to his dismay, his mother had scheduled two shopping excursions to Diagon Alley. He spent one day gathering his actual school supplies while he spent the other in a six-hour appointment that measured him for new garments at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. 

"Mother, I don't understand why I have to have three sets of dress robes with me this year," Draco complained as Madam Malkin accidentally stabbed another needle into his side. 

"It's for this Christmas, my dragon. You will not be coming home for the holiday, so I want to make sure that you have a variety to choose from," his mother said as she examined the robe's length. 

Draco raised an eyebrow at her, "Why wouldn't I be coming home for Yule?" 

"Oh, dear. I wasn't supposed to say anything," Narcissa mumbled to herself before turning back to Draco, "No matter, darling. Let's just say that there is something very exciting happening at Hogwarts that I want you to be prepared for, especially since it will likely involve bringing a date." 

"Mother," Draco drawled, "Are you saying there is going to be a Yule Ball at Hogwarts this year?" 

"I'm neither confirming nor denying," Narcissa replied primly before turning back to Madam Malkin, "We will take the suit style, the button-up vest with a low lace collar, and the black velvet with a high collar." 

"Excellent choices, Mrs. Malfoy. I will have them sent to Hogwarts as soon as they are finished," the tailor replied.  

His mother remained tight-lipped after that, which irritated and intrigued Draco about what would happen during this school year. He felt a little relief when he boarded the train to discover that the Weasleys also didn't know what this mysterious event was but seemed to be ready for it—well, maybe mostly prepared. 

"Ron, what is that?" Draco asked as he pointed to the hideous robe hanging from the luggage rack. 

Ron groaned, "Those are my dress robes." 

Draco was trying not to laugh while Hermione coughed out, "How, interesting."

Harry looked at his friends in confusion, "I don't understand. Aren't they more traditional?"

"Traditional?!" Ron squeaked, "They are ancient!" 

"You can't wear those to the dance, mate," Draco said. 

"Dance? What dance?" Hermione asked. 

Everyone leaned in with accusatory looks on their face to listen to what Draco knew. The blond wizard raised his hands in mock surrender, "I know just as much as you do, but I will say this. My mother let slip that I will likely not be coming home for Christmas, and she ordered three styles of dress robes. Logic would deduce that there is going to be a formal event around Yule. Based on the attire we all have, possibly a ball." 

"Oh," Hermione stated, leaning back in her seat, "That makes sense." 

“Plus, I heard my father talking about another wizarding school called Durmstrang. He implied that students might be visiting us. So, I don’t know… maybe we are hosting an international ball of some kind?”

“The school in Bulgaria?” Hermione inquired.

Draco was nodding his head when Harry cut in, “You mean there are other Wizarding Schools out there?”

“Oh, yes! The closest ones to us are Durmstrang, which is somewhere in Bulgaria, and Beauxbatons which is in the south of France,” Hermione informed him.

“There are approximately nine primary institutions in the world and about five major magical universities that a wizard can elect to study at if they don’t go straight into a career or an apprenticeship,” Draco explained.

“Nine?” Harry gasped.

“Besides the two I named,” Hermione continued with her perfect recall, “Illvermony is across the pond in the States. South America has Castelobruxo. The Russian’s have Koldovstoretz and the Japanese have Mahoutokoro. Australia and Uganda are unique because they have a combination primary and secondary school system. Uagadou in Uganda is the largest wizarding institute in the world. The Oceanic school is right behind it in size because they don’t have an Alchemy program.”

Harry looked like his mind was blown when he stuttered out, “How… How do you know this? Why don’t we learn this stuff in our first year?”

“I read about it in a book,” Hermione said primly.

Draco chuckled, “Of course you did, and you most likely don’t know this because Hogwarts hasn’t taught it yet. We won’t learn about other programs in the world until it’s time for career counseling in our fifth year.”

"As fascinating as this history lesson is, can we get back to my problem," Ron piped up, "If we are having a dance, I can’t go wearing that!" 

Draco shook his head, "Absolutely not. You can borrow one of my sets when they come in. The shop is supposed to owl them any day now." 

Ron sighed in relief, "Thank Merlin, Morgana, and Circe!"

"Your gratitude hardly seems to be an adequate reply, but I guess it will have to do," Draco smirked in a teasing tone. 

 "Git," Ron laughed, lightly kicking Draco in the shin. 

"Anything from the trolley?" the old trolley witch called out as she popped her head into the cart. 

Hermione raised a sickle, "A copy of the Daily Prophet, please?" 

"A packet of Drooble's and a Licorice Wand," Ron ordered. He took the Drooble's before grimacing the price chart on the cart, "On second thought, just the Drooble's." 

"I got it," Harry said, paying for the Licorice Wand and then getting a Chocolate Frog and a package of Bertie's Box of Every Flavour Beans.

"Can I get a Cauldron cake, a Sugar Quill, and a box of Pink Coconut Ice?" Draco asked. 

The boys were settling back down in their seats, enjoying their sweets, when Draco looked over to see Hermione's brows were furrowed in intense concentration. 

"Love, what's wrong?" Draco asked her, opening up the package of Pink Coconut Ice. He tried to hand the candy for her to eat, but Hermione shook her head. She looked pale and like she was going to be sick. 

"This is just horrible! It's been ten days, and no one has been apprehended. How can the Ministry not know who conjured the mark? Wasn't there any… security, or…?"  

"Loads, according to Dad," Ron confirmed with his mouth full. "That's what has everyone so worried. It happened right under their noses." 

Draco huffed, "Ludo Bagman may have been the worse person to organize the event. From where I was sitting, he looked like he was drunk the entire time and more interested in taking bribes on the match." 

Ron shook his head, "For shame. He was a great beater, though." 

That was when Hermione suddenly reached across the cart and grabbed Harry's hand, "You were going to scratch your scar again, weren't you?"

When Harry didn't say anything, Hermione let go. After a few seconds of tense silence, Draco gave Harry a puzzled look, "Your scar is hurting?"

"It's… I'm not sure. It's probably nothing," Harry mumbled. 

"You should tell them about the nightmares, mate," Ron whispered. 

"What nightmares?" Draco asked. 

Harry took a deep breath, "Since the beginning of the summer, I've been having these weird dreams." 

"Are they the same, or are they different?" Draco questioned. 

"The same," Harry confirmed.

"What happens in them, Harry?" Hermione asked as she leaned forward, "You always look… sick when you wake up from them, but you never want to talk about it."  

"It starts with me in a graveyard. As I'm walking through the tombstones, I come across this one that is rather… large. It has a statute of a reaper holding a scythe," Harry explained.

"Can you make out any of the names on the headstones?" Draco inquired.

Harry shook his head, "I can't remember them."

Upon hearing that, Draco stood up and started going through his satchel. He looked over his shoulder, "Continue."

"Right, so once I'm out of the graveyard, I come up to this huge old house. It's like an estate, but as far as I can tell, no one lives there. That's when I start hearing the voices," Harry recalled.

"Do you know who they belong to?" Hermione asked.

That was when Draco turned around and produced a leather-bound journal to Harry, "Here. Take this."

Harry looked at Draco confused, "What's this for?"

Draco chuckled, "You really didn't pay attention in Trelawney's class last year. It's a dream journal. Every time you wake up from having this dream, immediately start writing down details that you remember or try sketching the things you see."

"Mate, that's brilliant. Then we can figure out what they mean," Ron exclaimed.

"If they have meaning," Hermione argued.  

"I know you're a skeptic, love, but having the same dream over and over again is no coincidence. Something is happening to Harry, and we need to find out what," Draco said.

"Now that we have established a plan, Harry, do you remember anything about the voices?" Ron asked.

"When I walk up the stairs, I hear Voldemort. He talks about the loss of Wormtail, and then… he is cryptic about his plans with two people in the room, but I don't recognize them. That's when he says something about a muggle caretaker listening into the conversation. After that, a flash of green light appears, and then the dream ends," Harry finished.

"He was talking about Pettigrew?" Hermione asked, her voice full of concern. She looked like she was trying to work out a complicated homework problem before she whispered, "Okay, maybe it does mean something."

"And the flash of green light… a spell… or… a curse," Draco added.

"Probably not a good one," Harry stated.

"Have you thought about telling Sirius or Remus any of this?" Hermione asked.

Ron snorted, "That was what I told him to do the first time he woke me up and told me."

Harry sighed, "Every time something good happens in my life, bad things follow and muck it all up! I just got Sirius back, and I finally have a family that loves and cares about me. Sirius doesn't starve me as a punishment or treat me like I'm not worth the dirt on his shoes. I just wanted things to stay happy for as long as possible."

Draco gave his friend a sympathetic smile, "We all can understand that."

"But, Harry, if you are in trouble again, then Sirius needs to know this," Hermione pointed out, "You should send a letter before we reach the school. Tell him and Remus about what you saw at the World Cup and the dream."

Knowing his friend was right, Harry acknowledged Hermione and began writing his letter. Hedwig didn't look too pleased to be having to deliver a letter in this stormy weather, but Harry's owl flew off into the night before the train stopped in Hogsmeade Station. Like last year, the four hurried to the self-pulling carriages to escape the pouring rain before they found themselves inside the familiar Great Hall.

Ron looked down longingly at the empty gold plates, "I hope they hurry up with the sorting. I'm starving!"

"I can't imagine having to cross the Black Lake in this weather. Those poor first years are going to be soaked," Hermione commented as they found their seats at the Gryffindor House table.

"They'll be lucky not to be sick for the first week of classes," Draco added.

The conversation immediately ceased as McGonagall paraded the new students down the center of the room to the front steps, where the teachers sat at the head tables. Draco anticipated that McGonagall was just going to start calling out names, but this time the Hat jumped off the stool and started to sing on its own!

Welcome one, welcome all

I'm the one they call…

The Sorting Hat!

I'll see your mind

If your mean or kind

And in due time

You'll make the climb

To find the way back home!

You might belong in Gryffindor

Where dwell the brave at heart

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw

if you have a ready mind

You might belong in Hufflepuff

Where they are just and loyal

Or perhaps in Slytherin

Those cunning folks use any means

To achieve their ends.

So, step on up

Don't be a Schlup

And find your destiny

We'll see!

The hall was stunned silent for a few moments before applause started to catalyst throughout the room. When it finally died away, Ron leaned over and whispered, "Well, that was new."

"I have no idea what that was, but I hope it never happens again," Harry added, getting Draco to snort. Several people shot him disapproving glances before going back to paying attention to the sorting ceremony. McGonagall called for several individuals, but then she shouted for one that sounded very familiar.

"Dennis Creevy!"

"That's him! That's my little brother! Oh, fingers crossed he will be in the same house as me!" Colin Creevy said in a hushed tone.

Colin was a Gryffindor that was below Draco, Harry, Ron, and Hermione. He had been one of the muggleborn students that were petrified by the Basilisk in their second year. Since the traumatizing event, Colin was a very excited kid and had an annoying hobby for taking pictures, especially Harry.

"Ah, let's see," the sorting hat said, "Better be… GRYFFINDOR!"

Draco groaned but reluctantly clapped. He made eye contact with Ron and could see the friends were on the same page. With two Creevy brothers in their house, they could kiss any sort of peace or privacy goodbye.

When everyone was sorted, the four Gryffindors looked up to find the Hogwarts Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, taking the podium. After what the group discovered about him last year, Draco didn't know how to feel about the headmaster. Dumbledore had let Harry's godfather go to Azkaban for 12 years without a trial, thus leaving Harry to be raised by his awful muggle relatives. The man was also going to turn over Sirius to the Aurors and didn't seem to believe them when they tried to explain it was Peter Pettigrew responsible for everything. One thing Draco knew for sure, the four of them were not as likely to blindly trust the old wizard going forward. The four shared a knowing look before they turned their attention back to the front of the room.

"Now that we are all settled in and sorted, I'd like to make an announcement. First and foremost, the inter-house Quidditch Cup will not be taking place this year…."

Boos and jeering reverberated throughout the hall. Draco could hardly believe it! They weren't having Quidditch? What in Godric's name was going on this year? When Dumbledore got the room to quiet, he continued.

"Yes, I know, quite sad. However, something much more thrilling is in store. This castle will not only be your home this year but home to some extraordinary guests as well. You see, Hogwarts has been chosen to host a legendary event: The Triwizard Tournament!"

Excited murmurs filled the hall when Hermione leaned forward, "What is this? A competition?"

"Only the most epic challenge in history," Ron answered, just as Dumbledore started to speak again. Draco, having read about this tournament in a book before, zoned out a bit as he watched the Ministry officials began to file into the hall behind the professors.  

"For those of you who do not know, the Triwizard Tournament brings together three schools to participate in a series of magical contests. For each school, a single student is selected to compete. Now, let me be clear. If chosen, you stand alone. And trust me when I say, these contests are not for the faint-hearted."

"Wicked," the Weasley twins said in unison.

"But more of that later. For now, please join me in welcoming the lovely students of the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic and their headmistress, Madame Maxime!"

The hall doors suddenly flew open to reveal about a dozen girls and ten boys that appeared to all be in their late teens. Their uniforms were made of pale blue silk, and each student had matching black dress shoes. Draco was very surprised to see that the students wore very modern style pointed hats that were the same color as their uniforms.

The French students formed a pyramid-style formation as they confidently strolled into the hall. To his surprise, Draco noticed a few of them as children of acquaintances of his father. One of them was a girl he used to see during summers in France, Aurelie Dumont. She, too, had a look of surprise on her face when she noticed Draco and gave him a wide smile in greeting. His smile faded when he saw the glare Hermione shot him out of the corner of his eye. Without any prompting, a melody suddenly filled the hall, which cued the Beauxbatons students into performing a routine of some kind as they wandlessly conjured dark blue butterflies and birds out of their hands. One of the butterflies landed right on Ron's nose before it disappeared. The redhead looked up at the stunning blonde girl who produced it and winked at him.

"Bloody Hell," Ron moaned, earning him an eye roll from Hermione.

Draco did a quick sweep of the room to see most of the students were thoroughly smitten by the elegant newcomers. It was hard not to be captivated by the French students as the girls wore tight dresses with short over-cloaks, and the boys were impeccably dressed in refined suites with long over-cloaks. The ensemble reminded him of something out of Hermione's period novels (something he may or may not have secretly taken out of her trunk and read in his free time last year). Speaking of his best friend, Draco couldn't help but smirk to himself when he saw Hermione had an obvious sneer across her face as she watched the Beauxbatons students gracefully twirl and dance to the beautiful song the woodwinds were playing off to the side. Taking pity on her, he leaned forward to whisper in her ear.

"If you keep staring at them like that, you might set one of them on fire, Granger."

Hermione huffed before she schooled her face. The students were bowing as Professor Dumbledore walked up to greet their giant headmistress. Whistling and applause filled the room, allowing Hermione to turn around and speak plainly to Draco.

"I wasn't looking at them in any untoward way."

"Uh-huh," Draco said before lowering his voice, "I only recognized a few of the students from summers in France. Nothing to worry about."

"Oh," Hermione replied, her breath hitching a little bit. Her cheeks had become quite warm from the flush of slight embarrassment due to Draco being able to figure out her thoughts. She thought she was more self-preserving than that! Her mouth stayed slightly parted but she didn't know what to say as her mind raced with possible remarks to say back.

Draco chuckled and ducked his head slightly, so he was closer to her ear, "Trust me, Hermione. Pretty uniforms don't equate to your beautiful heart."

Hermione had to fight every nerve in her body to not shiver at the compliment. Instead, she giggled back at him and pushed his shoulder with just enough force to send Draco away from her. The Beauxbatons students took their seats at the Ravenclaw table when Dumbledore announced the next school.

"And now our friends from the north. Please greet the proud pupils of Durmstrang and their high master, Igor Karkaroff!"

Draco froze in his seat as another 24 late teens entered the hall, evenly divided between boys and girls into two parallel lines. Each student had a staff that they banged on beat with an aggressive tune playing for their entrance. Each bang on the stone floor was met with a battle cry that echoed loudly through the hall. Before Draco could blink, the students set their staffs down and started to perform more of an acrobatic routine that had students from all over gasping as they watched the dangerous tricks and flips. There was no differentiation between gender in the uniforms, which were maroon and trimmed in an Eastern European style. Draco, however, didn't take his eyes off the high master as he marched in with an angry look on his face. Alongside him was another student who was not participating in the school introduction.

"Blimey! That's him! That's Viktor Krum!" Ron babbled quietly.

The routine ended with one of the students conjuring fire that took the form of a phoenix as Karkaroff hugged Dumbledore. When the Dumstrang students took a seat at the Slytherin table, Hermione noticed Draco's stern expression.

She leaned into him, "What is it?"

"I recognize Karkaroff," he whispered.

"From the manor? A friend of your father's?" Hermione prodded.

Draco shook his head, "No… from somewhere else. I can't remember right now..."

Before Hermione could probe further, Dumbledore came forward and called the Hogwarts students to order, "And now, let us entertain our guests in the best way we can. All stand!"

The next thing Draco knew, everyone around him was trying to sing in time with the school song as the words magically appeared in the front of the room. Many were signing off tune, and a whole group of students was behind the beat, creating an echo with the lyrics that was not tasteful in the slightest. Draco and Ron were barely mumbling the words, but Hermione and Harry found themselves enjoying the silly anthem and even waved their hands back and forth when the magical prompter told them to.

Hermione noticed that Draco was not participating enough, so she accidentally hit him in the arm to get him to join in more enthusiastically. Rolling his eyes, Draco waved his hands and loudly sang the last verse obnoxiously, getting Hermione to laugh and mess up the last few words. She couldn't stop laughing when she saw his signature smirk on his face as they took their seats. She let out a happy sigh.

"Well, that was fun."

"I feel completely humiliated by that!" Ron squeaked out.

"I don't know. I think once I got into it that it wasn't too bad," Draco said, wagging his eyebrows at Hermione, "Maybe I'll join the Frog Choir this year."

She playfully rolled her eyes at him with a sweet smile on her face before digging into the feast. Once the meal had ended, Dumbledore got up from the head table and started directing four men to move something that looked very heavy to the center of the room.

"What do you suppose that is?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow.

"It must be important if Ministry officials are moving it," Hermione commented.

Draco cautiously watched as the men placed an ornate golden case on a platform in front of the head table. When they finished, Dumbledore called the room to order.

"Your attention, again. I'd like to say a few words. Eternal glory is what awaits the student who wins the Triwizard Tournament. But to do this, that student must survive three tasks. Three extremely dangerous tasks. For this reason, the Ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule as a condition to the tournament's revival. To explain all this, we have the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Mr. Bartemius Crouch."

The four Gryffindors glared at the man that tried to accuse Harry of casting the Dark Mark at the World Cup when the charmed night sky above them started to violently thunder and lightning. Terrified students began screaming, but Draco looked up at the scene in confusion. He'd never seen the Hogwarts ceiling react like that! Was it a prank gone wrong, or was it possibly a reaction to Crouch being there? But that wouldn't make sense. Crouch had been there throughout dinner, so why would the ceiling start a storm now? That was when a thick bolt of red light shot up into the magical thunderstorm, forcing the clouds to part and reveal the calm night sky the image used to be. As students were quieting down, Ron gasped.

"Blimey. Do you see who it is? It's Mad-Eye Moody!"

"You mean the ex-Auror?" Draco asked.

"Auror?" Dean Thomas rephrased the question, a questioning look on his face.

"Dark wizard catcher. I'd reckon you could tribute half the population of Azkaban because of him," Ron explained.

"Is this the same Moody that your dad had to leave suddenly and help?" Harry asked.

Ron nodded, "Yeah, someone tried to break into his house. Nothing was found stolen, and he was left unharmed, though. I don't know why someone would try to steal from him, though. He's supposed to be mad as a hatter."

"You think he's filling the Defense spot?" Hermione asked.

"Must be," Draco answered, "The seat is empty, and Dumbledore just greeted him, so…."

The four Gryffindors watched their new professor limp up the stairs and try to navigate the head tables. From where Draco was sitting, Mad-Eye was drenched from head to toe due to the weather and had a large leather overcoat that failed to hide the silver boot on his left foot.

"He's got a magical prosthetic on his leg," Draco mumbled to no one when the professor took out a flask and not-so-discreetly took a sip.

"What's that you think he's drinking," Ron asked.

"I don't know," Harry answered, "But I don't think it's pumpkin juice.

Hermione scrunched her nose up in disgust, "Great, we have a professor that is insane and a drunk."

The golden quartet didn't get to ponder on the disturbing man for Mr. Crouch had called the room back to order.

"After due consideration, the Ministry has concluded that, for their own safety, no student under the age of seventeen will be allowed to put forth their name for the Triwizard Tournament. The exception will be made for the visiting schools. This decision is final!"

The hall didn't even let Crouch finish as several students starting protesting the rule. Fred and George Weasley were among the loudest, and their influence in Gryffindor house encouraged several younger students to agree with them.

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore projected. The command immediately silenced the hall as students turned their attention on to the Hogwarts Headmaster. Dumbledore raised his wand and wordlessly melted the gold casing to reveal a giant brown cup. While it wasn't a pretty sight to behold, Draco couldn't help but feel an overwhelming power emitting from the cup. He jumped slightly when a large blue flame ignited from the rim.

"The Goblet of Fire has been lit. Anyone wishing to submit themselves to the tournament merely write their name upon a piece of parchment and throw it in the flame before the eve of Samhain. Do not do so lightly. If chosen, there is no turning back. As from this moment, the Triwizard Tournament has begun."

_____________________

The following day, all any of the students could talk about was the Triwizard Tournament. Those whom the Ministry allowed to compete were talking with their friends to determine if they were going to enter while those who were underage were trying to scheme their way past the age line Dumbledore drew last night around the Goblet. Well, most of them were.

"I can't believe people are not taking the age limit seriously," Hermione huffed.

Ron looked up at her with a mouth full of eggs, "How are you surprised? Fred and George had a list of things to try to get past the barrier before Halloween."

"Well, maybe students would take it more seriously if they knew how dangerous these tournaments are!" Hermione returned unkindly.

"What did you find out?" Draco asked her as he filled his breakfast plate.

Hermione let out a frustrated breath, "Well, without getting an actual history book on the subject, I had to resort to what information was in my copy of Hogwarts: A History."

"And," Harry prompted her to continue.

"No one knows the exact date it was established, but it was believed to have started around 700 years ago. Every five years or so, the three largest schools in Europe: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang, would take turns hosting this magical contest. It quickly gained a reputation as deadly and dangerous, so the three magical governments agreed to discontinue it. Did you know the death toll was so high that it was almost guaranteed that at least one of the champions would perish by the second task in the tournament?"

Draco raised his eyebrow at the same time Harry let out a low whistle, "That bad? Well, glad I'm not old enough to put my name in."

"You mean you don't want to try and compete? Eternal glory, Harry!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry chuckled, "I've got enough of that to last more than one lifetime. Besides, I don't want to do anything stupid that would hurt my family."

Ron shrugged his shoulders, "Well, I'm going to try and put my name in."

"No, you will not!" Hermione admonished him sternly.

"Oh, and who's going to stop me?" Ron challenged.

"I will," Hermione retorted, "I'll turn you into McGonagall myself if I find out you are doing anything illegal to get your name in the Goblet."

Ron laughed at her, "Good luck with that. I'm sure I'll have it figured out before you even notice."

Hermione snorted, "Says the boy who still begs me to write the introductions to his essays. Come along, Draco. I don't want to be late for Defense."

With that, Draco got up from the breakfast table and followed his clever witch out of the hall. He had an extra-large smirk on his face as he listened to Harry laughing at Hermione's comeback and Ron whining about how it wasn't that funny.

________________

Draco and Hermione settled in their seats when Mad-Eye Moody limped down the Defense Against the Dark Arts office stairs towards the front of the classroom. The room was ghostly silent, saved for the thumping of the professor's metal foot. Having not had the chance to get a better look at the ex-Auror last night, Draco had to suppress a shudder when he saw the man in the light of day. The visible flesh was scarred horribly, and he had a prosthetic eye that kept twitching all around the room. His thinning hair was unkempt, but that didn't distract from the fact that Moody looked dressed for battle in all his padded robes that he bet was laced with shield charms. Standing at attention in front of the room, Professor Moody scanned the classroom before clearing his throat.

"Alastor Moody. Ex-Auror," he introduced gruffly before writing his name on the chalkboard behind him. He turned around to eye the students again before continuing, "Ministry malcontent and your new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher. I am here because Dumbledore asked me. End of story, goodbye, the end. Any questions?"

Nobody moved in their seats. Draco was terrified to look away from the professor as he watched that magical eyeball move back and forth, surveying the class. It was almost like he was waiting for one of them to breathe wrong so that he could strike. When Moody concluded he wasn't getting any reaction from the students, he returned to his lecture.

"Now the Ministry-approved curriculum has me teaching you counter curses only, but when it comes to the Dark Arts, I believe in a more practical approach. First, which of you can tell me how many Unforgivable Curses there are?"

Draco heard Hermione's breath catch in her throat and immediately looked over at her with concern. She looked her usual studious self to anyone else in the room, but Draco could see that her face was pale, and her eyes were cold as ice as she stared down Moody. Under the table, her hands were trembling slightly, and she appeared to be wiping her palms on her robe. As if sensing her discomfort, Moody turned his focus to their desk.

"You must be, Miss Granger. Professor McGonagall told me you are one of the most intelligent students she's ever taught. Tell me, Brightest Witch of her Age, how many Unforgiveable Curses are there?"

Hermione took a deep breath, "Three, sir."

Moody turned around to write something on the board, "And they are so named?"

"Because they are unforgivable. The use of any one of them will…."

"…earn you a one-way ticket to Azkaban, correct," Moody finished for her.

Hermione's posture didn't relax as Moody turned back to the class. Draco was studying her face and could clearly see she was trying not to panic under the intensity of the subject matter, yet he was immensely proud of her for not stuttering when called to answer. Slowly, so as not to call attention to themselves, Draco reached his hand under the desk and took Hermione's hand. Her palm was sweaty, but his touch seemed to stop her shaking for the time being.

"Now, the Ministry says that you aren't old enough to learn this. I SAY DIFFERENT! You need to know what you are up against! You need to be prepared!" Moody paused, scanning the room again with another mad look on his face before he continued, "Now, which curse should we see first? WEASLEY!"

"Yes!" Ron croaked.  

"Stand," Moody ordered.

Draco tried not to flinch as he watched Ron slowly rose from his chair. Taking a quick look around the room, he could see he wasn't the only one on edge. Lavender Brown, who was sitting a few seats behind the redhead, was sobbing into her robe. Draco made eye contact with Theo across the room and could see the Slytherin boy had a massive smirk on his face. Draco tried not to clench his jaw at the reaction when Moody's voice brought him back to the lesson.

"Give us a curse."

"Well," Ron stuttered, "My dad… did… tell me… about one. The… Im- imperius curse."

"Ah, yes. Your dad would know all about that one. It gave the Ministry some trouble a few years back. Perhaps this will show you why…."

Ron sank back into his seat while Moody hobbled over to a table off to the side of the room. There was a table tucked in the corner where several glass jars magically contained a variety of bugs. Draco felt Hermione squeeze his hand tighter as Moody enlarged a spider that he plucked from one of the containers.

"Imperio!"

The spider gave a pitiful squeak before Moody moved his wand, taking the creature on an invisible broom ride through the air. The closest comparison his mind could form was that it looked like the professor was floating the creature… but this curse was more than a simple levitation charm. Moody had taken away the spider's ability to move freely and to act. The professor was in complete control of the spider's movements, and the poor creature really couldn't do anything except obey. Half the class was laughing at the silly actions Moody forced the spider to perform. He moved the creature from student to student and had it land in various places around the room. Even Draco eventually let out a chuckle at seeing the spider thrown directly into Theo's face! It was kind of worth it to see the Slytherin freak out and beg Blaise to get it off.

"Don't worry, Mr. Nott. She's completely harmless. If she bites… well, just know she's lethal!" Moody laughed, "Talented, isn't she? What should I have her do next? Jump out the window?"

Moody flicked his wand and threw the creature into one of the large window panes on the side of the room. The laughter suddenly stopped. All the students watched the spider squeak in protest as it slid down the side of the window. Only by the grace of Moody's spell was the arachnid saved from drowning as the curse forced the creature to hover over a pail of water sitting on the floor. 

"Drown herself?" Moody asked before calling the spider back into his hand. He looked up at the class, no longer amused. "As you can see, the purpose of this curse is that it suppresses the individual's ability to exercise control over their actions and thoughts. It can be broken with extreme mental discipline, but better not to be hit with it in the first place. Scores of Witches and Wizards have claimed that they only did You-Know-Who's bidding under the influence of the imperious curse. But here's the rub: how do we sort out the liars?"

Moody paused again before demanding another curse from the class. Several hands raised in the air, but Mad-Eye evidently had someone in mind for this next demonstration. The professor focused entirely on Neville, forcing the boy to halfway raise his hand before Moody called on him. Like Ron, Neville stood up from his seat. Draco watched as his Gryffindor housemate cleared his throat.

"There's the… Cruciatus Curse."

"Correct!" Moody yelled before motioning Neville to follow him over to his desk. Draco's face went white as he realized what the professor was about to do as he set the spider down. He looked up to Neville before turning to address the class. "This one is particularly nasty. The torture curse."

Moody gave Neville one last glance before pointing his wand at the creature and shouting the spell, "Crucio!"

The spider cried out in agony in a series of continuous long, high-pitched squeals. Draco couldn't take his eyes off the creature as he watched it writhe in pain across the desk. As uncomfortable as Draco felt, he could see that Neville was even more disturbed at having to watch this unforgivable in action. But Draco knew why Neville was so upset. This was the curse his Aunt Bellatrix had used against Neville's parents. She tortured them into insanity, a fate worse than death his mother had said when she told him the story. It was his turn to find comfort in Hermione's touch as he gave her hand a hard squeeze. Draco was so fixated on the torture scene before him that he hadn't noticed Hermione had been looking away the entire time. Feeling her gaze on him, Draco met her eyes. He was surprised not to find panic but a fierce determination in her demeanor. Before Draco could blink, his clever friend stood up, the action pulling her hand from his.

"Stop it! Can't you see it's bothering him? Stop it!"

Hermione's plea did not go unnoticed as Moody withdrew his attack. The pathetic squealing from the arachnid stopped, leaving a deafening silence in the room. Composing herself, Hermione slowly sat back down, not taking her eyes off the professor. Draco found her hand again as Moody stumbled over to their desk and set the spider on Hermione's textbook.

"Perhaps you can give us the last curse, Miss Granger," Moody stated gruffly.

"You can't be serious! Don't you dare do that in front of her!" Draco shouted. He was already enraged on Hermione's behalf. The subject matter alone could have sent her into a panic attack at any moment. But, this man had spent the past thirty minutes proving he didn't give a damn about the well-being of the students.

At hearing Draco's outburst, Moody leaned in and sneered right in Draco's face. "Oh yeah, Sonny? You look like a Malfoy, yeah?" When Draco neither confirmed nor denied the accusations, Moody continued, "What are you going to do to me? Tell your father? I could tell you stories about your whole line. Every last one of 'em was dark wizards. I suspect you are just the same, even with your sorting."

Draco had no words to refute the professor as his blood started boiling under his skin. He could feel the telltale signs of his magic acting up and tried popping his knuckles to distract him from losing control. Technically, what the professor said about his family wasn't untrue, but what he said about Draco was entirely false. It was like the man knew exactly what to say that would get a rise out of Draco. If it weren't for Hermione squeezing his hand, Draco would have done something stupid like pulled Moody's eyeball out, but she kept him grounded and in check.

Disappointed he wasn't getting a reaction from Draco, Moody turned to address Hermione, "Last chance, Miss Granger. Will you tell the class the last curse?"

Hermione turned away from the spider and shook her head.

"No," Moody drawled, raising his wand.

"Hermione, don't look at it. Love, look at me," Draco ordered quickly. He reached out with his free hand and cupped the side of her cheek to keep her eyes on him as Moody recited the incantation.

"Avada Kadava!"

Out of the corner of Draco's eye, he saw a flash of green light that swiftly hit the spider. The creature let out a final squeak and then folded in on itself. Unmoving. Dead.

Hermione shuddered, struggling to breathe as she focused only on Draco's eyes and not the dead spider that remained on her textbook. Despite his attempts to protect her from witnessing the murder, she still saw the flash through Draco's pupils. She still knew what Mad-Eye Moody did to that poor creature. But the only thing Hermione could bring herself to care about at that moment was getting out of the classroom as fast as possible. Her control was waning, and she could feel the edge of a breakdown that was about to happen. If it weren't for the pad of Draco's thumb rubbing across the apple of her cheek, she would have already surrendered to the panic attack.

"The killing curse," Moody said, not phased by the class's horrified reaction, "only one person is known to have survived it, and he is sitting in this room."

Everyone in the class simultaneously turned to look at Harry as Moody approached his desk. The professor stared at the boy-who-lived creepily for a few moments before he turned back to the chalkboard and demanded that everyone start taking notes. The rest of the class was silent until the bell rang. Draco and Hermione instantly shot out of their seats and ran together from the room. Finding an abandoned classroom not far from DADA, Draco pulled Hermione inside. As soon as he shut the door, Hermione let out a wail. He cast a silencing charm around the room before walking over to comfort her.

"Shh," Draco said, pulling her into a hug and rubbing her back, "I'm here."

"What… what was… he thinking?" Hermione stammered, "Showing… those… in a… classroom!"

They stayed like that, just holding one another as Hermione cried. He didn't know how long they were there, but neither of them seemed too concerned about missing lunch or maybe their next lesson. When her tears subsided, Draco gently put a hand under her chin to force her to look at him.

"I'm so sorry, Hermione."

"It's not your fault, Draco," she whispered.

"I could have done more. I tried to shield you from it…." Draco trailed off her Hermione brought her hand up to wrap around his wrist. She found his pulse point and gave it a gentle squeeze.

"I know, Draco. You did everything you could. As soon as I stood up to him, Moody had every intention of killing that spider right in front of me. I'm… not entirely fine, but I'm better now."

"Are you sure?" Draco asked her.

Hermione nodded her head, "Yeah, we should find Neville. He looked worse than me when we left."

Draco stilled for a second before agreeing with her. He dropped his hands and went to leave the classroom when Hermione pulled him back.

"What is it?"

Draco shook his head, "It's not my story to tell."

"Oh," Hermione gasped, realizing what he meant, "You know why Neville reacted that way."

"Yes, Hermione. And even though I tell you everything, it wouldn't be right of me to tell you this. Neville has the right to his privacy."

Hermione nodded, "I understand. Let's go talk to him."

To their surprise, they didn't have to hunt for Neville long as they found him sitting in a window sill off one of the spiral staircases. He still looked pale from the lesson and gave no indication that he heard Hermione and Draco approach him.

"Neville," Hermione called cautiously.

The Gryffindor startled out of his thoughts and looked up to see Hermione and Draco looking at him in concern. Draco cleared his throat. "How are you doing? Are you okay?"

Neville nodded before he hardened his expression, "I supposed you told her."

"Actually, Draco wouldn't talk about it. Said it was for you to reveal," Hermione clarified.

Neville gave the blond wizard a look of astonishment before turning back to Hermione and telling her the whole story. Hermione looked like she was about to cry again when she leaned forward and hugged Neville after explaining the Longbottom Family history with the Cruciatus Curse. 

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, "I can't imagine how you must be feeling. And then to have to go through that in a classroom."

When Neville pulled back, he just shrugged and pulled out a book, "I'm okay, Hermione. Moody talked to me afterward, and we're okay. He gave me this Herbology book as an apology."

"I'm glad you're alright. Draco and I were worried," Hermione said.

"Honestly, after everything calmed down, I was more worried about the two of you. I mean… at least he didn't kill the spider right in front of me," Neville stated.

"Right," Draco said, taking Hermione's hand, "I think we're going to find Harry and Ron. See you, Neville."

With a final goodbye, they left their housemate sitting on the window sill. When Draco looked over his shoulder, he found Neville once again staring out at the rain that pattered the stained glass with the same ghostly expression he had when they found him.

Chapter Text

A couple of weeks had passed since the disastrous first Defense lesson, but Draco could tell Hermione was still on edge after the Unforgiveable Curses demonstration. It also didn't help that Moody had spent almost the entire month going over the three Unforgiveables in excruciating detail, and it appeared the topic wasn't changing anytime soon. In fact, Draco was on his way to the library to spend some time with Hermione writing their first essay for the aforementioned class. It shouldn't have surprised him to find her at their usual table near the Charms section. She was furiously writing away on parchment with her hair in a high bun secured by her vinewood wand. Usually, Draco would take a moment to admire her in this state, but today was a special day, and Draco had no intention of actually studying.

"Hello, love," he whispered before casting a silencing charm around their table. The last thing he needed was to have their afternoon interrupted by getting kicked out of the library for talking.

Hermione jumped, "Godric, Draco. You scared me."

He chuckled and set his bag down on the table, "Sorry. What had your wand in knots? It looked like you were about to put a hole through your paper."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "Moody's essay. Any sources I could use to cross-reference are in the restricted section, and he won't write us permission slips for Madam Pince. I mean… honestly! What professor would create an assignment that's supposed to demonstrate our 'Constant Vigilance' of the Unforgiveable Curses? It's infuriating!"

"Well, maybe I can brighten your day," Draco said as he pulled a container out of his bag.

Hermione gasped when she popped the lid off, "Draco! Is this what I think it is?"

"You mean, is it a dark chocolate cupcake with coffee icing? Why, yes. Yes, it is," Draco confirmed with a smirk on his face. Hermione looked up at him with a huge smile when he leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. He pulled back just enough so that he could whisper in her ear, "Happy Birthday, love."

Draco finally took a seat at the table and started riffling in his bag again, not noticing the scarlet blush across Hermione's face. The witch couldn't stop staring at the dessert in front of her. She was utterly embarrassed to admit that she actually forgot it was her birthday, and somehow Draco not only had remembered the day but had also gotten her something incredibly thoughtful that she would enjoy. Though she loved them dearly as friends, Harry and Ron would never do something like this for her.

"Now, I know the Hogwarts’ kitchen doesn't stock these, so where exactly did you get my favorite cupcake flavor, Draco Malfoy?" Hermione asked in a teasing tone.

"Ah, found it," he exclaimed before handing her a small wrapped box, "Your present."

Hermione laughed as she fumbled with the package in her hand. However, she wasn't about to let Draco off the hook so quickly, so she squared her shoulders and raised an eyebrow at him. He was all too familiar with that warning look which meant Hermione would not pacify her curiosity for long. She remained silent as she stared at Draco, her final tactic that she employed to try and compel him to answer her question. Realizing she wasn't going to open her present until he did what she wanted, Draco gave her a dramatic sigh before revealing his process.

"I may or may not have bribed Dobby to find your favorite bakery."

"Draco!" Hermione laughed again, "You seriously bribed him?"

"Don't worry. Even though he is a new hire, he didn't get in trouble with the kitchen staff. Besides, Dobby likes traveling when he's not working," Draco said.

"You mean he stopped exploring and accepted Dumbledore's offer to work in the Hogwarts’ kitchens?" Hermione questioned.

"Yes! He'd come to find out in his travels that there aren't a lot of places elves can go that will give them work for pay. So, he came back here and started at the beginning of the school year," Draco explained.

"Are all the elves at Hogwarts free?" Hermione asked.

Draco nodded his head, "Hogwarts is one of the few places in the Wizarding World that elves are not enslaved. They are given wages, time off, and lodging. But it wasn't always like that. The policy changed when Dumbledore took over as headmaster. It's weird to me, hearing that he is capable of being caring and generous, but at the same time… I can't reconcile that with what he did to Sirius."

"I know what you mean," Hermione sighed.

"But enough of that. Open your present!" Draco enthused.

Hermione giggled at his excitement before she ripped the paper carefully and slid off the lid. When she saw the contents inside, she gasped and dropped the box on the table.

"Is it alright? Do you not like it?" Draco asked with concern.

"No, that's not… Draco. This is too much!" Hermione stammered out before picking up her present. Inside the box was a delicate silver chained bracelet with sporadically spaced periwinkle gemstones. It wasn't outlandish or gaudy but simple with her favorite color. She was trying not to reveal that the bracelet was exactly on par with her taste and possibly the most beautiful piece of jewelry Hermione had ever seen.

"It is not too much," Draco affirmed. He put up a hand to stop the argument Hermione had on the tip of her tongue, "Look, the past three years, I have gotten you nothing but candy and books for your birthday."

"Perfectly acceptable gifts," she retorted quietly, but Draco ignored her and continued with his reasoning.

"This year, I wanted to get you something… different. Something more. I know you would have been content with another book or the like, but when I saw the jewelry store in Diagon Alley, I knew that was the place I had to look. So, I snuck off while my mother was distracted, and as soon as I saw this, I immediately thought of you. The shop owner said it's enchanted with some basic healing and calming charms as well as an intermediate intention charm. If someone approaches you with ill intent, then the gems will turn red, and the bracelet will start to vibrate if you are in immediate danger."

She couldn't stop the few tears that fell from her eyes after hearing Draco's proclamation and description of her gift. The pretty object's dual purpose of protecting her was all the proof she needed to know he sincerely cared about her. She was stunned by how much thought and effort he put into selected this piece. Between remembering her birthday, the cupcake, and the bracelet… everything was starting to feel overwhelming that she had to take a couple of steadying breaths and compose herself so she wouldn't start bawling her eyes out.

"I hope you don't hate it. I know you don't really care for any jewelry, but I thought… you should have something practical, but still looked as stunning as you," Draco whispered, not able to meet her eyes.

Hermione smiled widely before leaning forward in her seat. She placed a gentle hand under his chin to force Draco to look up at her. What he found took his breath away. Hermione looked radiantly happy with her bright smile and brown eyes lit with such love and gratitude.

"Will you put it on me," she asked quietly, handing him the box.

Draco didn't hesitate as he reached forward and clasped the bracelet around her wrist.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered, "It's perfect."

"Then it was meant for you," Draco replied, reluctantly dropping her hand and smiling at her again.

____________________

The cool, damp air of the dungeons did nothing to help clear the sweat dripping down Draco’s forehead as he clenched the arms of his chair. Even though he had been practicing his meditation and mental shield building all summer, Draco felt like this one attack from Snape was enough to undo all his progress. Every time the Potions Master would poke into another section of Draco’s mind, the young Gryffindor would push the magic away and send the intruder through another pathway, thus giving the attacker a memory that was not what they intended to view. The method, which Draco had been preparing to attempt for quite some time now, was called misdirection. Despite how much focus and energy the person requires to achieve this technique, it was the easiest defense to master. Although, easy might have been a bit of an understatement in Draco’s opinion.

Through the blood rushing in his muffled ears, Draco could hear Snape chuckle cruelly, “Now, now, Draco. Are you admitting defeat already?”

“No,” Draco hissed. He clenched his teeth and squeezed his eyes tighter as he felt the magic of Snape’s spell try and unlock another memory. With as much force as he could muster, Draco redirected the memory to one of him and his father in Diagon Alley his second year. He felt momentary satisfaction when he barely heard Snape give out a frustrated grunt.

One of the key components to succeeding in Occlumency that Draco read in one of the textbooks is visualization. Every wizard’s mind is organized differently, so to keep the information safe, one must conjure an image that helps the Occulmens file and hide away the thoughts an attacker seeks to find. Snape had explained in one of his lessons that filing cabinets were prevalent and easy to imagine, but Draco was more creative than that. He visualized his mind like a hedge maze similar to that in the Manor gardens. His maze was designed to have long, twisty green rows for the Legilimens to follow as they tried to find the memory stored in the center. As the attacker went further down the path, Draco would redirect them to another section, essentially sending the intruder in circles so that they would never find what they were looking for. The only problem was that this required a great deal of concentration to maintain, and one slip up from Draco would allow for his defenses to come crashing down around him. Plus, the longer Snape stayed inside his mind, the more pressure that built up, which caused Draco a significant amount of pain he could not numb mentally. He knew trying to block the pain would weaken his hedge maze enough to allow the Legilimens to find the center, which Draco could not afford to have happened. 

There was no way to gauge how long Snape had conducted the exercise, but he felt instant relief as soon as Snape withdrew his attack. The pressure and pain simultaneously lifted, causing Draco to gasp for air and open his eyes. His vision cleared and allowed for Snape’s office to come into focus. Draco spotted the time on the clock hanging on the back wall.

45 minutes.

Snape attacked his mind consistently for 45 minutes before the professor gave up. Draco couldn’t help but smirk at having not only fended off an attack for so long but was also successful in keeping the intended memory hidden.

However, Snape did not find Draco’s success amusing, “Do try and quell your arrogant Gryffindor tendencies, Draco. It is most unbecoming of you.”

Draco suppressed the urge to roll his eyes as he accepted the glass of water from the Potions Master. The room was silent for a moment as Draco’s heart rate and breathing returned to normal. Snape didn’t speak again until Draco was handing the glass back to him, now empty.

“For curiosities sake… what memory were you so thoroughly hiding from me?”

Draco looked up and met Snape’s eyes. For anyone who hadn’t had the pleasure of knowing Severus Snape for many years, they would have deduced the man was always impassive and unfeeling. But Draco knew the little tells of emotion that gave away what Snape was really thinking. Contrary to what the professor said a moment ago, Snape was actually impressed with Draco’s performance and was genuinely curious what motivated the young Gryffindor to keep fighting the attack. Wanting to put the man out of his misery, Draco decided it was time to reveal and confront him about his actual status in Draco’s family.

 “The one where Andromeda told me you were my Godfather.”

There had been only two instances in Draco’s entire life where he had surprised Snape. The first was when he was seven years old, and Draco asked him why his father never smiled at him the way his mother did. The second was when Draco was sorted into Gryffindor. Today marked the third.

For the most part, Draco had to give Snape credit for how quickly the man could pull himself together. Had he not been watching for Snape’s reaction, then Draco would have missed the sublet widening of the man’s dark eyes and the twitch of his jaw. In a flash, Snape was rounding his desk to stand in front of Draco. “And just how, exactly, did you acquaint yourself with Mrs. Tonks?”

“Location spell,” Draco revealed, not at all phased by Snape’s drawing tone. He elaborated further when he saw Snape raise an eyebrow at him, “I found a picture of her and my mother in an old book, and Hermione helped me perform a location spell so that I could send her a letter. I met her over the summer as well.”

Snape huffed, “Well, that was incredibly foolish of you and Narcissa.”

“But that’s not the point. We are talking about you! Why are you surprised that Aunt Andromeda told me you were my Godfather? For as long as I’ve known you… why didn’t you tell me?” Draco asked, his voice bordering slightly on the edge of accusatory.

“Draco,” Snape drawled with a hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth, “I thought it was obvious.”

“Oh,” Draco said, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Taking pity on the boy, Snape softened his features and spoke in a quiet voice, “I had no idea that your parents didn’t tell you who I was. I assumed that they had informed you of my status. However, I am slightly disappointed that you did not form the conclusion on your own.”

Snape paused for a moment for his words to sink in before he continued, “I am not surprised that you learned I was your Godfather. What has me… concerned is that you have now formed a connection with Andromeda. It is just another thing you will have to learn to keep hidden. Did you notice Lucius try and breach your defenses at all this summer?”

“He didn’t try,” Draco said confidently, before deflating, “He’s been distracted.”

“I see,” Snape replied cryptically.

Draco furrowed his brows at the professor, “Do you think he had anything to do with what happened at the World Cup?”

“I’m not entirely sure what you are referring to, Draco,” Snape retorted in a mildly snarky tone.

“He thinks the Dark Lord is going to return any day now,” Draco stated abruptly. 

He couldn’t tell if his statement had achieved the desire shock factor he was going for, but it did cause the man to remain silent. Snape simply stared at the boy in front of him, contemplating how to answer his godson without giving away too much information. After moments of awkward and tense silence, Snape cleared his throat.

“I cannot speak on behalf of your father’s beliefs, but I will inform you that there are many people who believe that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did not die the night he went after the Potters. Along with most of his followers, some think that You-Know-Who was expelled from his body and thus continues to exist in a state between living and dying. While in this form, the soul cannot achieve a body of his own, nor can they access the full extent of their magical power.”

“But he can possess people. Like what happened with Professor Quirrell in first year?” Draco clarified.

“Precisely. Though if you looked at the other side of the galleon, the skeptics would rationalize what happened to your former Defense teacher as an unfortunate possession by a dark artifact and not the remnants of the most powerful dark wizard to live.”

Draco slumped back into his seat, a look of defeat and confusion on his face, “So, what exactly does that mean going forward? Are there going to be more Death Eaters coming out of the shadows? More terrorist attacks? More kidnappings?”

“I cannot say for certain, but my advice, Draco… Don’t do anything that will make you a target,” Snape warned with an edge to his tone.

“You mean don’t do anything stupid,” Draco retorted with just a hint of sarcasm.

Snape rolled his eyes, “You’re a bloody, Gryffindor. Telling you not to do something stupid would be a waste of my breath.”

____________________

September gave way to October, and Hermione had yet to take the bracelet off except for two reasons: showering and potions. It was the most precious possession she owned, and she wanted to take care of it as much as possible. Plus, Hermione loved seeing how happy Draco would get every time he caught sight of it around her wrist. She didn't know if it was the enchantments, but having the bracelet on every day did leave her feeling calmer and more alert, especially in DADA. However, part of her doubted the efficacy of the intention charm because the jewels turned red every time Moody walked by their desk. She didn't have the heart to bring it up to Draco and didn't want to risk having him take the bracelet back for being partially defective.

"Today, we are going to do some more practice with the Imperious curse. Given that your essays were so ATROCIOUS!" Moody spat as he levitated their papers back to them.

Hermione slumped when she saw that she had only received an Acceptable. She looked over and frowned when she saw Draco had received a Poor. She gave him an incredulous look, for she knew that Draco's essay was almost identical in contents to her own, but Draco just shrugged his shoulders. It was only a month into the school year, and he was already resigning himself to possibly not passing this year's Defense class because he felt Mad-Eye had it out for him.

"The only one of you lot who managed to pass was Weasley!" Moody shouted before turning to the redhead, "Well done! A perfect demonstration of constant vigilance is not to give away your strategy! Keeping your enemy in the dark as long as possible will keep you and others alive."

Everyone in the class seemed to collectively stare at Ron, who had turned bright red at the praise. He was saved from his embarrassment by Moody ordering everyone up from their desks so he could vanish them to make space. Harry and Ron shuffled over to the side of the room and stood next to Hermione and Draco.

"How did you get the best grade in the class?" Hermione hissed to the redhead.

"I'd like to know that as well. I failed my assignment," Draco added.

"Same," Harry said, earning him looks of disbelief from his friends. Defense was easily Harry's best subject, and Moody seemed keen for Harry to succeed.

Ron shrugged his shoulders, "I forgot to do the assignment and just quickly scribbled that down during lunch, so I had something to turn in."

"You've got to be joking?!" Hermione muttered irritably, "Honestly, Ronald."

The topic was dropped for Moody now had the room cleared and hobbled over to stand in front of Draco, "Alright, Malfoy. You're going to be my first demonstration. Come. Stand right over there."

Hermione held her breath as she watched Moody cast the Imperious Curse on Draco and commanded him to do random things about the room. She was relieved to see it wasn't anything too inappropriate, and Draco was able to break it with the mental discipline he had spent the past year building up. They were more like silly requests such as scratch his nose or make a funny face at this person. Hermione wasn't entirely paying attention to Moody's lecture as she watched each command get more difficult for Draco to fight off with Occlumency. Part of her wondered if maybe she should listen more to Draco's concerns about Mad-Eye. This was the thought she was mulling over when Blaise Zabini silently slid up next to her.

"Granger," he greeted quietly.

Hermione jumped before fixing the Slytherin with a hard stare and crossing her arms, "Zabini."

"Nice bracelet," Blaise said, inclining his head towards Hermione's wrist.

She was quiet for a moment, not wanting to say anything, but her manners won out, and she muttered a small thanks in response. She tried to turn her attention back to the lecture, which Moody had most of the class enraptured over as he still held Draco under the curse, but Zabini's sudden interest in her bracelet bothered her. Curiosity winning over, she took an inconspicuous peek down at her wrist and became annoyed when she saw the jewels were still a vibrant periwinkle and had not turned red by Blaise's presence.

"Not many wizards can afford to get their witches such expensive jewelry. Especially pieces that have permanent intention charms on them," he commented in a lazy drawl.

Hermione quickly snapped her head to say something wholly unkind to the Slytherin about minding his own business, but he beat her to the punch, "I saw the gems flash red earlier and knew what they were. Don't deny it, Granger. And before you ask, I also knew it had to be a gift because there is no way in Styx that you could afford something like this. It only took a bit of deductive reasoning to conclude that Draco must have gifted it to you."

"What do you want, Zabini?" Hermione whispered, unable to keep the uncertainty she felt out of her voice.

"As you can see, I have no ill will towards you, Granger. I simply wanted to warn you," he replied.

"Warn me about what?" she asked.

"To end your relationship with Draco. If you keep falling in love with him, then you are only going to end up heartbroken."

"Even though it is none of your business, Draco and I are not in a relationship," Hermione hissed at him, "He's just my best friend."

"The jewelry around your wrist says otherwise. In fact, I would go as far as to say it is a courting gift," Blaise said, raising his eyebrow at her.

"I'm sorry, a what?" Hermione questioned.

"Come now, Granger. You're a smart girl. You'll figure it out," he replied cryptically before slinking away back to his Slytherin cohort. A courting gift? What in Godric's name was that? But she didn't get to think about it long because Draco stomped up to her and placed a protective arm around her shoulders. She hadn't noticed that Moody was no longer using Draco as the guinea pig and had now switched places with Harry.

Draco leaned forward to whisper in her ear, not taking his eyes off the Slytherin who retreated across the room, "What did he want?"

Hermione stiffened at his harsh tone but answered, "To ask about my bracelet."

Draco's brows furrowed in confusion, "Why would he care about that?"

"I'm not entirely sure," Hermione said. She felt a little guilty by the half-truth but pushed on, "He said he noticed the intention charm earlier and told me he recognized the spell."

Draco hummed in acknowledgment before tightening his arm around her. He didn't remove it until class was over. It bothered him not knowing why Blaise felt the need to corner Hermione during the lesson and why he was suddenly interested in her birthday present. What ulterior motive did the Slytherin have? Was he part of the spy network his father had that kept him up to date on Draco's activities in school? The last thing he needed was his father finding out about the bracelet. He hadn't intended on telling Hermione the traditional meaning behind it. And to be honest, he felt a little guilty not entirely revealing that to her when he presented it, but, in his defense, he had been so worried she would reject it! He just hoped Hermione would understand when the time came to explain it to her.

_____________________

Hermione spent a week watching Daphne Greengrass for the perfect opportunity to catch the Slytherin girl off guard. Ever since Blaise had dropped a hint about her bracelet being a courting piece, Hermione had tried to find text and research materials in the library regarding Pureblood customs. The only problem, the information she needed wasn't recorded anywhere. The only thing Hermione came across was a couple of books on estate management and one book on how to be a proper wife (which, seriously, should have been in the restricted section. Or, better yet, tossed into the fireplace). She couldn't go to Ron or Ginny because they would get suspicious, and then Draco would find out, which was ultimately what she was trying to avoid. So, with no information in her go-to place, Hermione became desperate and sought out the only source she could ask. And the person in question just so happened to be in a secluded area of the library right after dinner.

"Daphne. Might I have a word?" Hermione asked.

The Slytherin raised her head from her textbook and smirked at her, "Hermione, what a pleasant surprise."

The other blonde girl she was with rolled her eyes, "Daph, we shouldn't be talking to her. What if someone sees us?"

"It's fine, Rory. No one from Slytherin is here except us," Daphne assured her friend before turning back to Hermione. "It's nothing personal, Hermione; just a reputational thing. After all, Aurora and I have to keep up appearances that we are good, self-preserving snakes that hate you bleeding heart lions."

"Right, well, I shouldn't take up too much of your time. I just wanted to ask you a question," Hermione stated.

"Go on," Daphne encouraged her.

"You can't tell, Draco. This has to stay between us," Hermione insisted. 

"Oh, Sweet Salazar," the girl, Aurora, slammed her textbook and got up from her seat. "I'm not entertaining this. The whole point of going to the library was to get away from the gossip of your… courting gift. Daph, when your done crushing Granger's illusion, I'll be in the Transfiguration section."

Daphne rolled her eyes, "Don't mind her. However, she does have a point. Blaise told Theo that Draco gave you a bracelet for your birthday, so, of course, it's all any of the Slytherin girls can talk about."

Hermione gaped at her, "See! That's what I need to find out. What's a courting gift? Why does everyone care that Draco gave me a bracelet? We've been friends for over four years now, so what if he gave me jewelry instead of a book?"

"Because of what it represents, Hermione," Daphne said calmly, "Let me start with your first question. From the world Draco, Aurora, and I come from, a courting gift is what a wizard presents to the witch he intended to become exclusively involved with romantically."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, "You mean dating?"

"Kind of," Daphne admitted, "But it's a little bit more than that, and it's because of the bracelet. Dating implies the arrangement is not as serious. A wizard wouldn't give a witch they were 'just dating' any jewelry because certain pieces have a significant meaning in Pureblood society."

"And what does a bracelet mean?" Hermione asked, her breath catching in her throat.

"It's given at the start of a betrothal period," Daphne explained, "By Draco giving you that bracelet, he basically told the entire school that you were completely off the market and has every intention to court you for a long-term arrangement exclusively. Are you alright, Hermione?"

Hermione let out a shaky breath, "I'm fine. Please continue."

Daphne nodded, "So, depending on how long Draco intends to court you, he will present a piece each year to enforce his commitment until you are presented an engagement ring. Usually, when the ring is given, a marriage contract is signed, and the couple is married by the agreed-upon date. Do you want me to explain marriage contracts?"

Hermione shook her head, "No, I have a pretty good idea about those. So, essentially, Blaise told everyone that Draco is courting me? Why is that anyone's business? And what did Aurora mean by 'crushing my illusion'?"

"Ah," Daphne said, shifting in her seat uncomfortably, "So, you know the type of families Draco and I come from."

"Sacred Twenty-Eight," Hermione answered.

Daphne nodded, "Correct. As you know, Pureblood families often have blood supremacy ideals and think that muggleborn and half-blood witches and wizards are tainted. Sacred Twenty-Eight families push that to the extreme."

Hermione rolled her eyes, "I'm aware, and I have seen the Pureblood directory. Can you get to the point, Daphne?"

"You don't understand, Hermione," Daphne retorted in a stern voice, "Sacred Twenty-Eight don't have their status because of their wealth and influence. It's because they are revered for having complete magical lines. There is not a trace of so-called 'tainted blood' in their family trees."

The realization suddenly clicked for Hermione, causing her face to drop, "Draco practically told the entire school that he intended to… sully the bloodline."

"Now you understand. He's the last heir of one of the most ancient bloodlines in Great Britain. The Malfoys practically fostered the blood purist's movement, and I guarantee you if it wasn't for the fact that Draco was brave enough to challenge those beliefs, then he would have been his father's puppet and ended up in Slytherin."

Hermione didn't know what to think. She felt like there were too many wheels trying to process at the same time in her mind. Draco wanted to date her. No… he wanted to court her. He wanted a romantic relationship with her that ended in an engagement and marriage. She had been so confused about his feelings these past couple of years, but this made everything clear. Or did it? Did Draco know what he was doing when he gave her the bracelet? What if that wasn't his intention, and he thought that because she was muggleborn, the meaning wouldn't count? But Draco didn't care about that. He wouldn't be her best friend if that were how he thought of her.

"Hey," Daphne said, shaking Hermione's shoulder, "Look, I'm not telling you this to place doubt in your mind or to put you down because of your blood status."

"I know," Hermione whispered. She quickly became irate when she saw the pitying look Daphne gave her.

"I've known Draco for a long time and can tell he is enamored with you. I've never seen him behave so loyal to another person. Not even Theo, who he considered his brother! Hermione, all I'm stating is that you need to really think about the consequences if you decide to go down this path with him. Things could certainly get ugly for you two."

Hermione steeled her gaze, "You mean give up? Let him date… court a Pureblood? Like you?"

Daphne rolled her eyes, "I'm saying be brave but not stupid. If that's what you both want."

Hermione let out a breath, slightly embarrassed she tried to accuse the girl, "Right. Thanks, Daphne. I do appreciate your help."

"Of course," the blonde Slytherin said as she got up. Before she rounded the corner and disappeared behind the bookshelf, she looked over her shoulder to give Hermione one final warning. "If you and Draco do decide to be together, you might want to do it privately and not at school. Men like Lucius Malfoy have eyes and ears everywhere. It wouldn't take much for him to find out what Draco has been… up to in his free time."

"Are you saying Lucius is using people in Slytherin house to spy on us?" Hermione clarified, looking aghast at the revelation.

"I'm saying parents talk about what their children say in their letters, and I know all of them come from families that have disinherited or even killed their heirs for far fewer reasons than a 'fascination' with a muggleborn, Hermione."

With that morbid note, Daphne left Hermione alone in the stacks to stew in her thoughts.

_______________________

"Hermione! There you are? Where have you been?" Draco called out, stopping her in the hallway.

"Oh, hey, Draco," she smiled, though it wasn't as wide as she usually gave when she saw him. Ever since her conversation with Daphne, she hadn't known how to bring up the bracelet again with Draco. She still hadn't taken it off, but she also had been paying more attention to her surroundings since wearing the piece. Hermione would note the sneers that Pureblood girls would give her in the hallways, especially if Draco was with her. She would catch them glancing away quickly with disgusted looks on their faces after staring at her wrist for prolonged periods. More often than not, she would hear people just openly gossiping about her and Draco, particularly from the Slytherin table. It made it harder for them to go about their routine. The only solace they found was in the Gryffindor Common Room, but it wasn't ideal for studying. She knew Draco had noticed the change as well, but he seemed content by refusing to acknowledge it. 

"Harry and Ron are going down to watch the potential champions put in their names. Come with me?" he asked, holding out his hand, "Please? I promise it will be fun."

Hermione grabbed his hand, unable to refuse him, and the two gleefully walked into the Hall together before taking a seat in one of the bleachers. They both waved at Ron and Harry, who were walking around the cup, surveying the object and the age line that prevented the underaged students from entering. She was just about to crack open her book when a commotion came from the main door. Several Hufflepuffs were chanting and cheering for Cedric Diggory to put forth his name for consideration.

"Alright, you lot! Calm down," the sixth year said before crossing the age line and placing a piece of parchment into the flame. The entire Hall cheered for him when he went about his merry way. A few moments later, Ron and Harry came over and took a seat in front of them on the bleachers.

"Oi, where you've been? You missed Angelina put her name in," Ron informed them.

"Oh, well, at least someone from Gryffindor entered," Draco replied.

"I mean, who can pass up the chance at eternal glory? Be brilliant, wouldn't it?" Ron asked them.

Hermione shook her head while Harry chuckled at Ron's statement, "Better you than me. I think I've had enough eternal glory for the rest of my life."

Draco was about to say something when another rowdy commotion interrupted the ongoing conversations flowing through the Hall. Fred and George Weasley came running in, taking a lap around the Goblet before stopping in front of the bleachers. Fred motioned for the applause and cheers to quiet down as George held up two identical potion vials.

"Well, lads. We've done it. It took us all month, but it's ready!" George told the crowd. Many people started to cheer and encourage them to take the potion when Hermione scoffed.

"It's not going to work!" she said in a confident sing-song voice.

Draco, Ron, and Harry tried to suppress their laugher as the twins sat down around her.

"Oh, yeah?" George asked.

"And why is that, Granger?" Fred challenged her.

"You see this," Hermione said, pointing at the white circle in front of the Goblet, "This is an age line. Dumbledore drew it himself."

"So," Fred shrugged.

Exasperated, Hermione slammed her book shut before continuing, "So, a genius like Dumbledore couldn't possibly be fooled by a dodge as pathetically dimwitted as an aging potion."

"But that's why it is so brilliant," George corrected her.

"Because it's so pathetically dimwitted," Fred added before taking one of the vials from his brother. They forced some first-years to move over so that they could stand on the first step of the bleachers.

"Ready, Fred?" George asked.

"Ready, George," his twin replied, shaking the vial.

"Bottoms up!"

Anticipation filled the room as the audience waited for the Weasley twins to cross the line. After a few seconds, the two jumped from the bench and landed right in front of the Goblet. When nothing happened, they raised their fists in the air and took a victory lap before holding up pieces of parchment. The cheering and clapping stopped as Fred and George placed their names into the flame. When nothing happened again, the room rallied behind the twins! Several students called out, begging for their secret when the fire started to grow large and red. People jumped back to avoid being hit by the flame as it struck Fred and George in the face and kicked them out of the circle. The twins were rolling on the ground a few yards away, now sporting long white hair and large white beards.

Many of the students started laughing and encouraging the twins to fight, but Hermione just sat on the bench with a smug look on her face. "I told them it wasn't going to work."

Draco laughed with her before the Hall suddenly stilled. Everyone turned their attention to see Viktor Krum had entered the room with his High Master. The famous quidditch player had a severe look of concentration on his face as he marched right past the age line and dropped his name into the Goblet. There was no cheering for the Durmstrang student, probably because Karkaroff was sneering at anyone who dared come near his prized pupil. Even though Draco hadn't interacted with the Durmstrang students much, and thankfully High Master Karkaroff even less, he couldn't shake the uneasy feeling the man gave him. Karkaroff was a name that sounded familiar to Draco, but he couldn't place it, which only frustrated him more about the whole situation. Draco had been so focused on watching Karkaroff that he didn't notice Krum giving Hermione an appreciative look before walking out of the Hall.

As soon as the Durmstrang party left, Ron turned around to interrogate Hermione, "How do you know Krum? Did you talk to him?"

"What are you talking about? I haven't interacted with anyone from Durmstrang," Hermione said defensively, "I have no idea what that look was for!"

"What look?" Draco growled.

Hermione hit Draco in the arm, "Don't start. It was nothing."

"Krum totally checked Hermione out after he put his name in the cup," Harry offered.

Hermione gave him an incredulous look before she sarcastically retorted, "Thanks, Harry. You better hope I don't throw your firebolt into the Goblet."

"Hey now! I didn't deserve that!" Harry cried out. 

"All I'm saying is if you know him, Hermione, then why haven't you gotten us autographs?" Ron asked.

"Because I don't know him! I haven't spent any time with any of the students from other schools yet. I've been too busy with assignments to go to any of the mixers, and, if I'm honest, I don't entirely support the tournament. I think it's too dangerous and should have just stayed in retirement. If the Ministry wanted to foster international relations, then there are safer ways they could have gone about it."

"Hey, love. It's okay. I believe you," Draco said in a soothing tone.

Harry and Ron made their exit to go and talk to others who entered. When the two left, she started muttering under her breath, "Those two. They are so daft sometimes. I mean… can you imagine. Me? Friends with a world-famous quidditch player? I hate quidditch and wouldn't even know where to start a conversation with him!"

Draco chuckled, "I'm sure you would find something to talk about. Can you believe they are going to pick the champions in less than six days?"

Hermione gave him a hum before turning back to her book. She shivered when Draco leaned down to whisper, "I'm glad they imposed the age limit. The last thing I need to worry about is all my friends trying to gamble with fate."

She shot him a soft smile and reached for his hand to give it a light squeeze in gratitude.

__________________________

Before the four Gryffindors could blink, it was the day of Halloween, and the champion ceremony was due to start any minute. The whole school was already gathered in the Great Hall, having just finished the epic feast of sweets that was traditional during the Samhein holiday. Several people were high on the sugar and milling around until it was time for the ceremony. 

"Your attention, please! Everyone, take a seat if you haven't already done so!" Dumbledore called out. The students and professors immediately quieted and turned their attention onto the Hogwarts Headmaster. "Now, the moment you all have been waiting for: the champion selection!"

Dumbledore held out his hand and did a wandless scan of the room. Draco felt a brief pulse of power sweep over his skin as the headmaster did a complete 360 before facing the Goblet. Everyone waited in the room with bated breath when the Goblet's flame suddenly changed into a bright red. Many students gasped as a piece of parchment flew out of the ash and into the air. Dumbledore caught it with one hand before he flipped it over to read the name.

“The Durmstrang champion is… Viktor Krum!”

There was boisterous cheering from the Durmstrang school while the others applauded politely. Dumbledore directed the champions to retire to the trophy room, which was out the Hall and down the corridor. The Goblet's flame turned red again and spat out another piece of paper. Draco watched as Dumbledore caught it, clearing his throat to announce the next champion.

“The champion for Beauxbatons, is Fleur Delacour!”

Like with Krum, the Beauxbatons students cheered the loudest for their representative, and everyone else followed suit with an appropriate level of clapping. Fleur shook Dumbledore's hand and walked the same path out of the Hall that Krum took only moments earlier.

"I think that was the girl who winked at you, Ron," Harry said as the cheering died down and the red flame reappeared.

Dumbledore caught the final piece of parchment almost immediately as it flew out of the Goblet. He read the name with a giant smile, "The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!"

The Hogwarts students, Hufflepuff in particular, were hollering as Cedric shook hands with Dumbledore and exited the Hall. So many people were trying to shake his hand and congratulate Cedric that it took him twice as long to exit the room as the other champions. When the Hogwarts champion had finally cleared the doorway, Dumbledore called the room to order again.

"Excellent! We now have our three champions! But in the end, only one will go down in history. Only one will hoist this chalice of champions… this vessel of victory…the Triwizard Cup!"

As Dumbledore was speaking, Crouch brought out the coveted cup to show the Hall. Draco stared at the shining blue cup with silver snake handles in awe as he admired the trophy. But of course, the excitement of the night had to morph into a terrible nightmare, for the Goblet's flame did not go out when the headmaster called the last champion as it was supposed to. Instead, it violently glowed red again and sizzled out an unexpected fourth name from the ashes.

"What's going on?" Ron asked his friends.

"I don't know," Draco said.

"I… think the Goblet just picked another champion," Hermione answered in disbelief.

"Has it ever done that before?" Harry asked, curious to see who Dumbledore was going to call.

Hermione shook her head, "Not to my knowledge."

There was a long pause as Dumbledore read the name in between his fingers silently. The Hall waited impatiently for the headmaster to call out who the Goblet also deemed worthy enough to compete. Many students from all three schools whispered conspiratorially to guess who would be the fourth random champion.

"Well, read the name Albus," Crouch ordered. His voice quivered slightly as he looked at the piece of parchment fearfully.

Dumbledore looked up and cleared his throat, "Harry Potter."

"No," Harry whispered as he shrunk lower into his seat, failing to conceal himself. Hermione, Draco, and Ron stared at him in disbelief as students in the Hall whispered and shuffled around to look for Harry.

"Harry, you have to get up and go to Dumbledore," Hermione insisted, recovering the fastest from her state of shock.

"But I didn't put my name in the Goblet. I don't want this," Harry argued. Draco could tell he wasn't lying. Besides the fact that he knew Harry had no interest in joining the tournament, he'd never seen Harry look so terrified before. Not when they faced the trials to get to the Philosopher's Stone. Not in the Chamber of Secrets when he killed a full-grown Basilisk. And not even when he faced down the man who was truly responsible for the murder of his parents.

"Harry Potter?" Dumbledore called again, louder than the first time.

"Your names been called, mate. You have to get up at least. Talk to Dumbledore and see if he can delay your official entry. I'll write Sirius and see if he can get you out," Draco offered.

"I can't do this," Harry protested.

"Harry, for goodness sakes! Get up before Dumbledore calls your name a third time," Hermione urged him. She practically kicked him under the table, forcing Harry to stand up and walk towards the headmaster.

Unlike the other champions, there was no applause for Harry as he left the Hall. Many students jeered and booed him, calling Harry a liar and a cheat. The adults seemed to have forgotten the rest of the students as they started to argue amongst themselves. Madam Maxine demanded that Harry be removed from the lineup. Karkaroff was calling for Harry's immediate arrest and investigation of how Harry circumvented the age line. In no time, the Hall had erupted into complete chaos.

"Come on," Draco said to Hermione and Ron, "Let's run to the owlery while everyone is distracted. We have to tell Sirius."

Hermione got up from the bench and followed Draco to the tower. If they sent Hedwig as soon as possible, then she should be able to get to London by morning at the latest. No one noticed them leave, but she and Draco noted that Ron didn't follow them out and stayed sulking at the table.

Chapter Text

It took Harry well over an hour to get back to the Common Room that night, but even then, Draco and Hermione couldn't get to him right away. As suspected, most of Gryffindor house cornered the boy-who-lived as soon as he walked through the portrait hole. Some praised him and demanded to know how Harry got past the age line, while others criticized him for breaking the rules. Harry's insistence that he had not put his name in the Goblet fell on deaf ears. When he had finally managed to break free of the crowd, Draco and Hermione dragged Harry up the stairs to the boy's fourth-year dormitory. It was empty except for Ron, who was lying on his bed, ignoring them.

"Thanks for getting me out of there. Merlin, this has been a nightmare," Harry said. He sounded utterly exhausted as he took a seat on his bed. Draco leaned against the frame while Hermione sat down next to Harry.

"What did Dumbledore say, Harry?" Hermione asked.

"It's not good. They left it up to Crouch to decide whether I could compete or not…." Harry started to explain but stopped when he heard Ron scoff.

"You got a problem, Weasley? Why are you acting in such a foul mood?" Draco asked unkindly.

 "Yeah, I got a problem. Our supposed best friend managed to put his name into the Goblet of Fire, and none of you care how he did it!" Ron spat.

"How many times do I have to say this? I didn't put my name in that Cup! I didn't ask for any of this to happen, Ron!" Harry yelled.

"Someone clearly did this to Harry, but we don't know why," Hermione added. 

"You're being stupid," Draco quipped at the redhead. "Stop being jealous and put that strategy hat on so we can figure out who and what's trying to kill Harry this year."

"Piss off! All of you!" Ron shouted before he stomped out of the dormitory.

Hermione huffed, "Well, that was rude."

"We can't afford to waste any more time on him," Draco said before turning back to Harry, "You were talking about Crouch."

"Right, Crouch said that when my name came out of the Goblet, it formed a binding magical contract and that I had to compete," Harry explained.

"That sounds absurd," Hermione stated as her brows furrowed. 

"It is, and it isn't," Draco said cryptically, "If this was a normal parchment to quill contract, then Harry, or rather Sirius on Harry's behalf, could have challenged the validity of it at the Wizengamont and had it voided without any issues. Magical contracts are different because the consideration behind them is your magical core. Trying to break an agreement that is magically binding, even if you didn't make it yourself, can possibly damage your magic."

"What?!" Hermione and Harry said at the same time.

"There aren't a lot of instances in history to go off of, but Thaddeus Thurkell was rumored to have broken a magical contract, and that's why all seven of his sons turned out to be squibs. A better example would be like what happened to me in first year when my father tried to get me resorted. When the hat placed each of us in our houses, we formed magical contracts with the school saying that we agreed to be taught here as long as we abide by the rules of the school and our house," Draco explained.

"And you didn't consent to the resorting because no one had ever asked it before," Hermione finished abruptly, "But how is that going to help, Harry? Are you saying there's no way to break a magical contract?"

"My knowledge is limited to what my tutors taught me, but I imagine it's not impossible. There might be loopholes that Sirius could exercise being the head of the House of Black," Draco offered.

"So, we just have to wait for Sirius to get here and fix it," Hermione said in a tired voice before looking at Harry, "Did Dumbledore say anything else?"

"Not Dumbledore. It was Moody who said that whoever put my name in the Cup used an extremely powerful and dark Confundus charm to trick the Goblet into thinking I was a candidate from a fourth school," Harry explained.

"My gold is on Karkaroff," Draco interjected. 

"With what evidence?" Hermione challenged, raising an eyebrow.

"None. Just a feeling," Draco replied with an air of nonchalance. 

"Draco! You can't go around accusing people without any proof," Hermione chastised him.

"I didn't say I was going to drag him in front of the Wizengamont. If we are compiling a list of suspects, then Karkaroff should go on the top of the list. His name sounds familiar to me for some reason, but I can't remember why," Draco disclosed.

Harry gave Draco a quizzical look, "Unless he was an Ex-Death Eater or something like that, I find it hard to believe he put my name in. Besides the fact that he doesn't know me, Karkaroff seemed more concerned with Hogwarts having an unfair advantage with two champions competing. He demanded that the Goblet be relit so that another person from Durmstrang could be selected as well."

"Getting back on topic… Draco and I got the letter out to Sirius, so hopefully, he will be here tomorrow morning, and we can put this all behind us," Hermione informed Harry.

Harry sighed in relief, "Thanks."

"We are here for you, Harry," Draco affirmed.

Hermione nodded her head, "We believe you and are going to help in any way we can."

________________________

Breakfast was a tense affair, for Ron had aligned himself with the skeptics of the table. He sat next to Dean Thomas and Neville Longbottom, refusing to acknowledge Harry, Hermione, and Draco. They were about halfway through the meal when Sirius and Remus strolled into the Great Hall and demanded an audience with Dumbledore. The headmaster called Harry and his guardians away to discuss the events of last night privately. Hermione and Draco didn't see Harry until after lunch when he found them in the Library.

"Did you get out of competing?" Hermione asked as soon as Harry sat down.

 The Gryffindor took a deep breath, as if bracing himself to be the bearer of bad news. "I did… but then I chose not to."

"I'm sorry, what?" Draco asked as he raised a skeptical eyebrow at his friend.

"So, according to Sirius, I have the option to forfeit the tournament in its entirety. I can use this exception anytime up until the first task. Since I didn't put my name in willingly, the theory is that the contract will not officially form until I actually participate in a competition," Harry explained.

"But you're going to compete anyway?" Hermione questioned in a dangerously low tone that she only used when she was extremely cross.

"Yes," Harry confirmed, "Because Dumbledore agrees that someone else put my name in the Goblet to try to kill me. He thinks that the best way to draw the person and their plot out is for me to go along with it."

"And you agree?" Draco rephrased, trying to understand Harry's thought process. 

"I do," he affirmed.

Hermione violently closed her book, startling both Harry and Draco. "I cannot believe this! Harry! You can't trust Dumbledore! Look what he did to Sirius!"

"I know that," Harry spat, "But it's the only plan we've got."

"You can come up with another one! Preferably one that doesn't involve you potentially getting yourself killed!" Hermione countered. She was so furious with Harry's decision, that Draco thought smoke was going to start coming out of her ears. Concerned that Hermione's rage would cause a fit of accidental magic and break his noise canceling charm, Draco interjected. 

"Sirius and Remus are letting you go through with this?" 

Harry grimaced, "They… weren't exactly thrilled with it, but have accepted it's my decision."

"I don't like this, Harry," Hermione admitted. She let out a few more frustrated breaths before she continued, "I'm still staying by your side, but I don't like this at all." She stopped talking when she saw Colin Creevy approaching their table. Draco quickly canceled the silencing charm just as Colin started speaking.

"Hi, Harry! Professor Dumbledore sent me to collect you for something called 'weighing of the wands,' I think? And I think the Daily Prophet is here to do an interview," the younger Gryffindor informed them.

"Right, I'll see you later," Harry said, following Colin out of the Library.

Hermione brought her hands up to her face and wrung back her hair before rubbing at her temples. A headache had begun just behind her eyes due to all the stress going on. Heaving a big sigh, she exasperatedly said, "Draco, what are we going to do?" When he didn't immediately say anything, Hermione lowered her hands and turned to look at him. He was pointedly staring down at her bare wrist with a hurt expression.

Draco was not even comprehending what she was saying due to this new observation. He had become so used to seeing the light glimmer off of the metal and stones of her bracelet that it was a shock to see just bare skin in its’ place. As his mind reeled at the possibilities of why she wasn’t wearing it, he tried to school his face. "Why did you take your bracelet off?"

Hermione's mouth formed into a thin line. She bit her tongue at the onslaught of words she wanted to say and breathed out a heavy breath to center her raging emotions that accompanied the idea of the bracelet he gifted her. "Now is not the time, Draco,” she ground out instead.

"Don't ignore me, please. Why did you take your bracelet off," he asked again with a pleading edge to his voice. He wasn’t ready to have this conversation but the last thing he wanted was for her to shut him down before he even had the chance to explain. Hermione ignored him and began to gather her things and pack her bag when the realization suddenly hit him. "Blaise told you,” he bit out feeling betrayed by his old friend.  

"Actually, Daphne did," Hermione admitted, taken aback by the vehemence in Draco’s voice. "But that's not the point,” she said succinctly.  

"Hermione, please give me a chance. I can explain," Draco tried to reason while leaning across the table, reaching out for her hand. Hermione cut him off though before he had a chance to reach her by loudly scraping her chair away from the table and standing up.

"I'm sure you have a textbook reason as to why you didn't think to inform me of the meaning behind my birthday present, but quite frankly, Draco, I don't want to hear it right now! There is just too much going on between school, the idiotic tournament, Harry, and now,” she waved her hand impatiently between them, “us!” Her hand fell limply to her side and her face took on a look of resignation, “I'm not even sure if you meant it!"

Draco let out a frustrated breath, "I did!” He said with conviction making his way around the table towards her. “Mean it, I mean,” he floundered with his words. “When I gave it to you, I meant it,” he spoke the words with sincerity, trying to get his feelings across knowing that this might be his only chance to explain it to her.

She took another step away from him. “I’m not even sure if I want you to have meant it in the first place,” she said dejectedly. Her eyes were glassy but no tears were shed as she whispered, “You took advantage of my lack of knowledge to lay some kind of claim on me without my permission. I expected more from you Draco, and I sure as hell expected more from the person that I want to be with.”

Hermione paused for a moment, thinking on if she wanted to continue this conversation. She let out a deep breath before turning to face him, "I don't know how much of my current emotions are a carryover from our conversation with Harry or not, but I don't want to say anything more to you right now in case I'll regret it later."

Draco desperately wanted to argue with her, to pull her back down and have her listen to his reasoning, but he reluctantly acknowledged that Hermione needed space. He needed space as well to think all of this over and figure out a way to win her back. He didn’t need to burn his chance in some kind of heated moment. So, Draco gritted his teeth and nodded, "I understand. We can talk later then."

Hermione grimaced as she watched her words sink in for Draco and seeing his emotions play on his face before a stoic expression took residence, "Draco, we have more important things to worry about currently than to be arguing over a stupid bracelet. For Harry's sake, we can't be divided. He can't afford to lose any more friends,” she said resolutely before promptly marching out of the Library and headed back to the Common Room.

Throwing her bag down on the ground, she started pacing in circles around the girl's dormitory. There was no other way to describe it. Hermione was hurt, and she was angry. She felt like Draco had lied to her by not telling her what the bracelet symbolized! He knew exactly what he was doing when he bought it, and he evidently had every intention to court her! Why didn't Draco tell her?!? Did he not think she would understand? He had to know she felt the same way, didn't he? She kissed him at the World Cup for Godric's sake! Didn't that mean something to him? Crossing the room to her bedside table, Hermione pulled out the offending piece and sat down on her bed. As soon as she touched it, she could feel the calming magic trying to center her erratic emotional state.

It hurt her heart and her brain to try and rationalize how her relationship with Draco had gotten so complicated. Things were so much simpler before, and it terrified her to know there was no going back. There was also no fixing it if things took a turn for the worse. She knew that when they made that bet and she kissed him. Draco must have come to the same conclusion when he decided to gift her the bracelet. And being the Gryffindors they are, they naturally just followed their hearts and took a chance, but now it felt like she was in a hole that she and Draco couldn't dig themselves out of. Had trying to be something more than what they were... had that been a mistake? Did they ruin their chance and now couldn't go back to being friends?

 No. She couldn't believe that. It couldn't be the end for her and Draco before it even began. They were letting opinions and politics cloud something that should be wonderful and celebrated, but the whole situation wasn't fair for them. It probably never would be. Hermione suddenly felt a wave of exhaustion rush over her. Her body felt achy, and she no longer had any motivation to do anything else for the rest of the day. So, Hermione pulled the privacy curtains closed around her and laid down on her bed. Clutching the bracelet to her chest, she turned over and cried into her pillow.

___________________

Draco felt like Hermione had slapped him in the face. True, part of him could understand that Hermione felt betrayed and that he should have told her what the bracelet really meant, but Draco wasn't entirely wrong either. He had no way of knowing how Hermione would react to such a declaration, and the only solid piece of evidence he had to go off of was her actions at the World Cup. He should have known he wouldn't have been able to hide it for long because it was only natural for her to examine the purpose of things, but he didn't mean for her to question his feelings!

Even if he had an idea of how to fix everything with Hermione, she wasn't talking to him, at least not like she used to. She wouldn't even hang out in the Library with him unless Harry was there. Getting Hermione alone for a few minutes seemed pointless anyway, for they spent the past few weeks training and preparing Harry for whatever the first task might be. Hermione helped him focus on his Transfiguration and Charms work, while Draco helped him with defensive and combative magic. Ron was also still angry at them, which made sharing a dorm room with him awkward and tense, for the redhead tended to start their mornings off with a fight. Plus, the article that Rita Skeeter was supposed to have published about the champions turned into a false expose on Harry where she claimed he cried himself to sleep every night over the death of his parents. Oh, and apparently Harry was in love with Hermione. For Merlin’s sake, the nerve of that woman! Draco never did like her when she came to events held at the Manor. He hated the fact that his mother was friends with her, but those were thoughts he could store for another time, because there was also the concern that Harry hadn't been sleeping well. His friend was still plagued by the same nightmare he described on the train. Only, this time, he had a breakthrough and could finally remember one of the names on the gravestone.

"Here," Harry said, pointing at the picture he drew in the dream journal Draco had gifted him on the train, "it was on the bottom of the gravestone next to the reaper."

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, "Thomas Riddle, but isn't that…."

"Voldemort's name? Yeah, he was named after his father, who was a muggle. I think the graveyard and the house is the Riddle ancestry property," Harry said.

"You mean You-know-who was a half-blood?" Hermione gasped.

"Did we not tell you this?" Draco asked her.

"We learned this information from the diary and the Chamber of Secrets," Harry explained, "The only problem is, I have no idea where any of this is!"

"Can I see that, Harry?" Hermione asked. She waved her wand and made a copy of the picture. "There. I'm going to write my mum and see if she can dig up some muggle records. Maybe she can find out where the property is located."

"So, we can… what? Visit You-know-who?" Draco questioned sarcastically.

"So, Harry can tell Sirius," Hermione quipped before rolling her eyes at him.

That was how most of their conversations went; borderline hostile and lacking their usual warmth. Draco tried to remain civil and respect the distance Hermione implied she needed, but the more time that passed without confronting their issues only added salt to the wound in Draco's opinion. Despite how much he hated it, they all focused on the impending first task. It was now only three days away, which made them all feel more on edge than usual. Draco was currently sitting in the Library, without Hermione, futilely trying to work on his Potion's homework when a certain blonde Ravenclaw approached him. 

"Hello, Draco. By yourself again, I see," Luna stated as she took a seat across from her cousin.

He gave her a dejected smile, "Hello, Luna. How are you?"

"I'm alright. I'd be better if there weren't such a Wrackspurt infestation around Hogwarts! Haven't you noticed the tension between everyone? I see it's greatly affected your relationship with Hermione," she said in her whimsical voice.

"I… that's not… I mean… that has more to do with me than it does Wrackspurts, Luna," Draco admitted.

She gave her cousin a gentle pat on his hand, "Don't worry, Draco. You two will work it out."

"Hey, Draco. I was wondering if you could help me with a duel… Oh, sorry. Hi, Luna," Harry greeted as he approached the table.

She smiled at him, "Hello, Harry. I am happy to report you are Wrackspurt free, but your aura is a bit dimmed. Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Luna. Just a little stressed about the first task coming up," Harry explained in a tired voice.

"Of course, Harry! I'm sure you'll do great and be able to handle whatever magical creature they have in the Forbidden Forrest," Luna replied.

"I'm sorry, what?" Harry asked, "Did you just say the first task is battling a creature?"

"Well, yesterday… when I was feeding the Thestrals, I noticed that Hagrid was leading a group of Dragonologists into the forest. So, I assumed they were there for the tournament," Luna explained, "I can show you where they went if you like."

Draco and Harry shared a horrified look before Harry answered Luna, "I would appreciate it. Thanks, Luna."

The Ravenclaw smiled at him, "No problem! Meet me outside by Hagrid's hut right after dinner."

_________________

Harry Potter might not be boisterous or the attention seeker everyone thought him to be but he wasn’t stupid either. He detested being the boy-who-lived. The only thing that title had ever gotten him was pain. The pain of being an orphan, of having his right of being raised by his godfather taken away, being sent to live with magical hating relatives who abused him, and the newest mark of having to compete in this tournament. Again, he wasn’t stupid, the last thing he wanted to do was to trust Dumbledore’s plan of staying enrolled in this deadly competition. After all, Dumbledore was the very man who was responsible for sending his salvation to Azkaban for twelve long years. To add more salt to the wound, his best friend wasn’t speaking to him because he still believed Harry put his name in the Cup. Now his two remaining friends who stayed by his side were uncomfortable being in the same room together. He had no idea what happened there but he wasn’t as clueless as his friends assumed him to be.

Draco and Hermione had always had a close friendship. They were together as much as he and Ron were, so when things weren't right between them, it was obvious. Part of Harry wanted to know, but then again, another part of him was content to be blissfully ignorant to the intricacies of Draco and Hermione's relationship. It was moments like these where he needed to talk to someone when he missed Ron the most. Not that he was about to reveal how he was feeling, and he refused to admit as much to Hermione. But for now, Harry had to put such trivial things on the back burner because he needed to figure out what would be expected of him for the first task.

"Hello, Harry," Luna waved to him. Like she said earlier, she was waiting for him near Hagrid's hut.

"Ah, Luna. I don't mean to be rude, but what happened to your… eh…." Harry stuttered, pointing down at Luna's feet.

The blonde wiggled her toes in the dirt as she looked down to where Harry was pointing, "Oh, well… please don't tell, Draco. I don't want to worry him."

"Tell him what?" Harry prodded gently.

"Sometimes people like to steal and hide my things. I usually wear my shoes to bed because I have a tendency to sleepwalk. I imagine they think it's funny when I walk around the castle barefoot," she explained.

"I thought Draco and Ron took care of that," Harry stated in a sad tone. He didn't know the Ravenclaw well, but no one deserved to be bullied, especially with how cruelly the other members of Ravenclaw house tended to treat her. Having so few possessions himself growing up, he knew how that felt when his cousin Dudley would steal or break his things. Harry instantly felt enraged on her behalf and secretly vowed that he would help her look for them and then ask Hermione to be an anti-theft charm on all Luna's belongings. 

But sweet Luna simply shrugged her shoulders, like she had come to accept this was her reality, and there was no point in disputing it, "I'm sure Crystal means it all in good fun."

"Well, you can't go walking into the Forbidden Forest without any shoes. Here, let me try something. Hermione has been working with me on my Transfiguration," Harry said with more confidence than he felt. He picked a small pumpkin and waved his wand over it while muttering a spell. The squash instantly turned itself into a pair of orange Mary Janes that he offered to Luna. "I guessed the size, so hopefully they fit."

Luna slid her feet into the newly transformed shoes. They fit perfectly! She looked up at him with a wide smile, "Thank you, Harry! No one has ever done anything like that for me before."

"You're very welcome, Luna," Harry replied, returning her smile.

"I supposed we ought to get going," she said before she offered her hand and led Harry a little way into the forest.

Harry heard the unknown creature first. A few different noises sounded like howls of pain that the two students listened to while it echoed through the dense trees. He then noticed that Luna was leading him to a grove surrounded by several bushes, but they did little for insulating the sounds of rattling cages and men shouting. Before he could get closer and follow the noise, Luna aggressively shoved him behind a tree.

"Ouch. Luna, what was that for?" Harry asked, annoyed at tripping over a root.

Luna held up a finger to silence him, "I saw someone coming. We can't be seen."

"Oh, that's not a problem," Harry informed her by pulling his father's invisibility cloak out of his jumper pocket, "This will cover us."

Luna observed the cloth for a moment by taking the fabric and running it through her fingers a few times. She blinked in shock when she realized what it was and capable of performing. "Well, that's convenient," she blurted out before stepping under the cloak. Now pressed against Harry, the two carefully walked back out into the open and made their way to the grove. It was a good thing Harry had such excellent seeker skills because he almost missed running into Hagrid, who was escorting the Beauxbatons headmistress. Harry had to stop and do a double-take because Hagrid looked… well… for lack of a better word, clean! He was wearing a new overcoat and had a large flower pinned to one of its lapels, but the most shocking thing to see was that the half-giant actually combed his hair!

"Oh! 'Agrid! I thought perhaps you won't come. I thought perhaps you had… forgotten me," Madam Maxine said, her French accent coating her words.

"I'd never forget yeh, Olympe," Hagrid replied in a dreamy tone. 

Under the cloak, Harry couldn't help but make gagging motions like he was pretending to be sick at the sight. He cared about Hagrid and wanted his friend to be happy, but he didn't want a front-row seat to him flirting! Luna had a pleasant expression on her face as she watched the lovers without a care in the world.

"What is it you wanted to show me?" the headmistress asked in a breathy tone, "When we spoke earlier, you sounded so… exhilarated."

"Yeh'll be glad you came! Trust me!" Hagrid promised her before pulling back one of the bushes.

“Ah! C’est Magnifique!” Madame Maxine gasped.

Harry and Luna moved slightly closer to the couple to peer through the space between them. What Harry saw made his breath quicken and his heart pound in terror. Four large crates were holding four different types of dragons. He was going to have to fight a dragon for the first task! Harry barely registered Madame Maxine asking Hagrid to get closer when he recognized a familiar mop of red hair coming into view.

"I'd stay back, Hagrid. I've known that Horntail to shoot fire up to 40 feet!"

"Charlie! Good ter see you lad! Tell me, what breeds did yeh bring?" Hagrid asked.

"You probably recognize that's a Common Welsh Green by its green scales, and that blue-grey one is the Swedish Short-Snout. The red and golden one is a Chinese Fireball, but we are the proudest of having wrangled in a Hungarian Horntail," Charlie explained. "Quite an order from the Ministry. They wanted nesting mothers for the champions to get past. Poor Ron nearly fainted when he saw them."

Harry and Luna couldn't hear anything after that, for the men had moved out of their listening range, but he had heard enough. Harry honestly couldn't believe it. Ron had been here and knew what the first task was. Harry's supposed best friend knew the danger he would have to face, and because of Ron's jealously, he was opting not to tell Harry about it! To say Harry was livid would be an understatement. He had no idea how long he stared at the fire-breathing monsters until Luna gently touched his arm.

"We should leave, Harry. It's almost curfew."

Harry and Luna made their way out of the forest and back into the castle. He didn't say anything until they reached the staircase where they would part ways and go to their respective towers.

Luna gave him a kind smile, "Are you alright, Harry?"

He shook his head, "Not really. I have to fight a dragon."

"Oh no! I think Charlie said that you just have to get past it. So, maybe you have to retrieve something?" Luna pondered for a moment in a daze.

"Let's hope. I'm going to be working with Hermione and Draco nonstop for the next two days," Harry said. He paused for a moment before voicing another concern, "I just… can't believe the Ministry thought live dragons were considered safe! It just… makes me wonder that if this is the first challenge, then how much harder can the other two be?"

Luna hummed, "It's no wonder people died in the past. It's very unfair to leave you in the dark without a hint."

Harry's eyes widened, "Cedric. He doesn't know about the first task. Neither does Krum or Delacour."

"Probably not," Luna agreed, "Are you going to tell them?"

"I… I think it's only right. No one should go into this tournament blindsided like that," Harry said.

"That's very magnanimous of you. Although, If I had a crush on someone I was competing against, then I'd want to give him a heads up as well," Luna winked at him. "I don't blame you, Harry. Cedric is quite handsome."

Harry gaped at her as she skipped up the stairs back to the Ravenclaw Common Room. Luna didn't turn around to see the scarlet blush that had formed across his face.

__________________________

To say the last two days had been stressful was an understatement. Draco and Hermione spent as much time as possible helping Harry research the different dragon breeds as well as helping him perfect the summoning charm. Draco agreed with Luna's logic that if Harry were meant to get past the beast, he would possibly have to retrieve something. 

Hermione and Draco didn't see Harry the night before the first task because the tournament officials had the champions sleep in a tent outside to 'prevent distraction' and 'prepare' for the challenge in the morning. They were both equally worried about their friend as they followed the parade of students to an arena well beyond the Quidditch pitch.

"Do you think we should stop and see Harry before we find our seats?" Hermione asked Draco.

The blond pointed over to where a couple of ministry employees were standing guard near the champions' tent, "I'm not sure you can get past them."

Hermione sighed in defeat, "Perhaps your right."

Neither of them noticed Ron Weasley setting a pranking device on them and sneaking into the tent. Hermione and Draco waited in anticipation in the stadium's student section, which the tournament officials had designed like a rocky cavern. A perfect place for a dragon to guard an egg.

"Look," Draco said, pointing at the visitor's section, "Sirius and Remus have arrived."

Draco and Hermione gave the adults a timid wave, but they were interrupted by Fred and George Weasley accidentally bumping into them. Leave it to the twins to capitalize on the tournament by taking bets on the outcome of the challenge.

She sighed gloomily when she looked around at the student body. "I can't believe the lack of support for Harry."

Draco followed her gaze to see that more than half of the Hogwarts students sported 'POTTER STINKS' campaign buttons on their coats. He had a pretty good idea of who came up with the design, but his suspicions weren't confirmed until he saw a group of smirking Slytherins.

"Do you like them?" the annoying voice of Theodore Nott asked as he, along with Zacharias Smith, Gregory Goyle, and Vincent Crabbe, made their way down the row in front of them, "Quite fabulous charms work by Zach if I do say so myself."

"What can I say? I have a gift," the sandy blond Slytherin replied.

Hermione rolled her eyes and squeezed Draco's arm in warning not to engage with the taunts.

"Why so tense, Malfoy?" Theo jeered, "You know, my father and I have a bet, you see. I told him Potter isn't going to last 10 minutes in this tournament. He disagrees… he thinks Potter won't last five."

"I don't give a damn what Nott Sr. thinks!" Draco spat, "He's vile and cruel, and searching for his approval just makes you pathetic, Theo."

Nott's face dropped, and he tried to pierce Draco with a deadly look. If it wasn't for the announcement from Ludo Bagman for the audience to take their seats, Hermione believed a fight would have broken out between the two former childhood friends.

"He's such an idiot," Draco said under his breath as he glared at the Slytherin's slinking away to their seats. 

Hermione gave him a sympathetic look before she concentrated on the introduction.

"Welcome to the first task!" Bagman's voice boomed through the speaker system, "A few reminders before we begin. This tournament is designed to have dangerous challenges meant to test our champions in the most extreme way possible. Now, we all care about the safety of the champions, but we must ask that you remain seated at ALL times and do not in ANY way, shape, or form interfere. This includes impeding a rival or helping a competitor that you support. With that being said… the first task requires each of our champions to get past a dragon that they had randomly selected only moments ago. Each breed has been given a golden egg to protect, which each participant must collect in order to move on to the next task."

At hearing the instructions, Hermione started shaking. Draco reached over and gently squeezed her wrist. It was a little challenging to find her pulse point through the thick wool of her glove, but she was grateful for the contact nonetheless.

"He's going to be okay," Draco reassured her, "We prepared him."

Hermione nodded her head, trying to stay calm as the Dragonologist wrangled the Swedish Short-Snout into the arena, "Right. He's going to summon his Firebolt. It's all going to be fine."

She jumped when the cannon rang out, announcing the first person to compete. There were several cheers from many Hogwarts students as Cedric Diggory emerged from the opposite side of the arena. He managed to distract his dragon by transfiguring several rocks into dogs, but the spell reverted just as Cedric reached the nest holding his prize. The dragon became enraged and blew fire towards the intruder, catching Diggory in the face. Despite what looked like a significant setback, Cedric retrieved his egg.

"Clever bit of Transfiguration that one! And not to worry, ladies, the scarring is not parament. Plus, we have several highly trained healers standing by should their assistance be required," Bagman announced as the Dragonologist moved the Swedish Short-Snout out only to replace it with the Common Welsh Green. "And up next, we have the Beauxbatons champion!"

Fleur walked into the arena poised and graceful as a Siren, ready to trick her victim into her trap. It took the French woman less than 10 minutes to retrieve the egg without a scratch or scorch mark on her! Draco and Hermione looked at each other in disbelief, for they clearly underestimated how powerful Delacour was by being able to charm a fully grown dragon to sleep! They'd have to keep an eye out for her in future tasks.

"Excellent! Well done, Miss Delacour! Up next, we have Mr. Krum from Durmstrang facing the Chinese Fireball!" 

Hermione's breath caught, "That means…."

"Harry got the Horntail. Godric, I hope he isn't panicking right now," Draco said.

Viktor, surprisingly, took the longest to retrieve his egg even though he incapacitated his dragon the fastest. The Durmstrang champion used a Conjunctivitis curse, which had Hermione reeling because he permanently blinded the poor creature! Draco could tell it was excruciating for her to listen to the dragon cry out in pain and stumble its way around the arena, but after about 20 minutes or so, Krum emerged triumphant.

"Three of our champions have now faced their dragons, so each one of them will proceed to the next task. And now, our fourth and final contestant, Mr. Harry Potter!" Bagman yelled, starting a wave of chanting through the audience. As soon as Harry stepped into the arena, Draco noted he looked pale and terrified about the prospect of facing the Horntail. Harry briefly looked around before spotting the golden egg, but the Horntail was on him as soon as he tried to summon it. The dragon attacked viciously between attempting to roast Harry like a human steak and clobbering him with its spiked tail. After a few rounds of Harry being thrown around, Hermione couldn't stand by any longer and started banging on the rail.

"Your wand, Harry! Your wand!" she screamed at the top of her lungs.

Draco was only momentarily relieved as Harry managed to hide behind a large boulder. He didn't know how his friend had managed to concentrate enough to summon his Firebolt, for the stress of watching the event alone was enough to fry Draco's nerves. Harry's reprieve was short-lived, for the dragon did not relent on its attack and was now focused on trying to melt the rock Harry was hiding behind. After several tense minutes, someone in the audience pointed out that Harry's broom was soaring through the sky and into the arena. Draco let out a breath he had been holding in as he watched Harry jump on the broom and started maneuvering around the Horntail.

"Look at this boy! Fantastic on a broom he is!" Bagman commented.

To someone untrained in broom mechanics or Quidditch strategy, it looked like Harry was just chaotically flying about without a plan, but his constant weaving wasn't random. In a matter of moments, Harry had successfully tied the dragon up in its own chain, keeping the beast secured and preventing it from flying up and attacking him while he retrieved the egg. With his seeker-like reflexes, Harry swooped down and snatched the egg before flying out of the arena.

Draco and Hermione loudly cheered for their friend while the rest of the crowd erupted into applause as the Dragonologists sedated and carried the Horntail out of sight. The whole stadium clapped as the champions with their sponsors paraded around for a final appearance. Sirius and Remus were standing behind Harry, already wrapped in bandages, as he held the golden egg in his uninjured arm. Madame Maxine was standing behind Fleur with a woman who appeared to be the champion's mother, while only Karakroff was behind Krum. Cedric's father, who Draco recognized from the World Cup, was proudly standing behind his only son with a look of delight on his face. A committee of four wizards appeared, holding four scorecards and a quill as they evaluated the champions. They conversed amongst themselves for a brief moment before one of them held up a piece of parchment for Bagman. The ministry official cleared his throat in the speaker, causing the audience to come to order.

"Alright! The moment you all have been waiting for! Each champion has procured their egg which contains a vital clue for the next task. And the rankings stand thus. Tied for first place are Miss Delacour of Beauxbatons Academy and Mr. Potter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

There was some general booing that mostly came from the French spectators, but for the most part, the audience was cordial as Bagman explained the scores.

"Even though Miss Delacour was the fastest to retrieve her egg, Mr. Potter used the most magically innovative method that was successful. Because of this, the judges agreed the scores would be even. In third place is Mr. Diggory of Hogwarts and finally, in fourth place, we have Mr. Krum from Durmstrang."

Several from the Bulgarian school voiced their disagreement with the score, prompting Bagman to explain the results further.

"Though Mr. Krum met the objective, he did so in such a heinous way that the judges deducted several points for the use of a dark and irreversible curse."

Hermione harrumphed, "Good. Krum deserves it."

Draco merely smirked at his clever witch before taking her hand and tugging her to follow him out of the stands so that they could meet up with Harry. When they walked out of the arena, they found Ron and Harry standing face to face.

"Oh no," Hermione said, "You don't think they are going to kill each other, right?"

"I'd give it a 50/50 chance," Draco admitted, quickening his steps.

"I'd… reckon you have to be barking mad to put your own name in the Goblet of Fire," Ron admitted with a sheepish look.

"Caught on, have you? It took you long enough," Harry replied coldly.

Ron straightened into a defensive position, "I wasn't the only one who thought it. You should have heard what people were saying behind your back."

"Brilliant. That makes me feel loads better," Harry quipped.

"But, Harry… I'm sorry. I should have believed you when you said you didn't put your name in the Cup. And I should have believed you when you said someone did it to try and do you in," Ron said sincerely.

The two friends stared at one another, not saying a word before Harry broke the silence with his voice croaking a bit, "I needed you, Ron. I needed my best friend by my side, and you weren't there."

Ron ducked his head in shame, "I know. I was… a bit distraught."

Harry shook his head, taking his good arm to pull Ron into a hug before murmuring, "forget it."

"But Harry," Ron tried to protest, but Harry cut him off.

"I said forget it. You're here now. That's what counts."

"' Till the end, mate," Ron affirmed.

Draco shook his head at his friends before leaning over to whisper in Hermione's ear, "Those two are completely mental."

Hermione suppressed a laugh and simply nodded her head at Draco.

Chapter Text

The Gryffindor Common Room was on a high as they celebrated Harry's win! People passed around the egg like a hot potato and encouraged Harry to click the golden hatch open to reveal the clue. After several minutes of teasing, the Weasley twins hoisted Harry up on their shoulders and dared him to open the egg in front of everyone. But as soon as Harry turned the latch, a high-pitched screeching noise filled the room and caused everyone to cover their ears. The sound immediately disappeared as soon as Harry closed the egg. Some were disappointed that they couldn't hear the clue, while others shrugged, telling Harry he would figure it out eventually, and went back to the party. The egg had Harry looking perplexed as he held the object he fought so hard to get in his hands.

"Mate, how are you going to figure out a clue you can't hear?" Ron asked him.

"Look at the side," Hermione said as she reached out and touched a row of carvings along the rim, "Those are runes."

"I don't recognize these," Draco said, agreeing with her assessment.

"Well, good thing we have until February to figure it all out," Ron stated.

"Right, because I have to tell you guys something that Sirius told me," Harry said, changing the topic.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

Harry leaned forward so that the four of them formed a huddle, preventing others from eavesdropping. "Sirius warned me to be careful and gave me a list of people not to trust."

"Who," Draco immediately asked.

"Barty Crouch, for one. Though I'm not surprised, we all read about his history as a judge after the First Wizarding War and what he did, but did you know his son was a Death Eater?"

"What?" Ron asked in disbelief, "Old Crouch had a son?"

Harry nodded, "Barty Crouch Jr. Apparently, Crouch was so power-hungry back in the day that he sentenced and publicly shamed his son for crimes he committed as a Death Eater."

Hermione shuddered a bit at the news, but something in what Harry said started to click for Draco.

"Did Sirius tell you how he got caught?"

Harry looked at Draco with a smirk at the corner of his mouth, "Karkaroff made a deal to lower his sentence by turning in Barty Crough Jr. You were right to make him a suspect, Draco."

"You mean, Karkaroff was a Death Eater?" Ron gaped, "Bloody hell."

"So, Karkaroff was released because he turned over Barty Crouch Jr.?" Hermione clarified.

"Pretty much," Harry replied.

"Is there no one here we can trust?" Ron asked, exasperated.

"Is that why, Karkaroff sounded so familiar to you, Draco?" Hermione asked, turning to face him.

"It must be," Draco admitted, before turning to Ron to explain, "I recognized Karkaroff the minute he walked into the Great Hall, but I couldn't quite remember the context. I've had a bad feeling about him from the beginning, but knowing he's a Death Eater would make sense why I thought I heard of him before. Maybe my father mentioned him in passing, and I somehow retained it. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense why my father wanted me to go to Durmstrang." 

"Blimey, do you think he put your name in the Goblet?" Ron asked Harry.

"I don't think I'll ever figure that out, but I wouldn't be surprised if Karkaroff did," Harry said, leaving the four to ponder just how many more adults in their lives they couldn't really count on.

_____________________

Draco was on a mission. With the first task over and Ron no longer being a prick to them, Draco was determined to find Hermione and fix things with her. He knew he was supposed to give her space and time to work out whatever feelings she needed to process, but that was when Harry had to prepare for the first task. Now that the event had passed, Draco wanted, no, needed to talk to her again. Never mind the fact that he had run out of patience. It was simply time to confront the Hippogriff in their relationship. And since he knew her so well, Draco found her sitting at their usual table in the Library.

"Hi," he said in a quiet voice as he sat down next to her. His heart was pounding as he waited to see how she would react. Recently, she would quickly gather her things and walk away, but this time she just stared at Draco like a skittish cat.

"Hi," she replied in a soft voice. She still wasn't moving, so Draco took that as his cue to continue.

"Can we please talk?" Draco asked, almost holding his breath as he waited for her answer. He didn't know what he would do if she said no or not right now again. His entire plan had been based on her listening to his reasons, which in hindsight, was probably not the most brilliant move on his part.

"I guess we should," Hermione answered, averting her gaze. Part of her was so happy to see Draco, but another aspect was anxious about what he had to say. If she found a magic lamp with a genie that granted her three wishes, then she would have wished for this situation between her and Draco to be resolved so that they didn't have to have this conversation. But she knew it was a necessary one, and they couldn't keep existing in this limbo that she created the day she stormed out of the Library. Either way, they had to reach a resolution. She needed to be fair and hear his side.

Draco let out a sigh of relief, "Thank you. For a second there, I thought you were going to leave again."

"For a moment, so did I," she admitted, turning her body to face him, "but, I think I'm ready… to hear what you have to say."

Draco nodded his head, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you what the bracelet meant."

"And I appreciate the apology, but it wouldn't have been necessary in the first place had you just been honest with me," Hermione stated, already getting herself worked up. She let out a breath to try and quell her wired nerves, "It made me feel like you didn't trust me."

"That's not true," Draco said quickly, placing a hand over Hermione's. "If anything, you are the person in my life that I trust the most."

Hermione brought her free hand up to wipe away a tear that had leaked out of her eye. She was trying so hard not to cry, but this whole situation made her feel very emotional and frustrated. She croaked, "Then why?"

Draco cleared his throat as he struggled to find the words, "Because I was scared. I was afraid you would think it was too much and reject it. I thought we were finally on the same page after the World Cup, but…."

"But?" Hermione prompted, giving his hand a squeeze of encouragement to continue.

"There was always this nagging feeling in the back of my mind, like Murphy's voice," Draco explained. He felt like the confession had removed a weight from his chest as he finally admitted the insecurity he had been feeling.

"Murphy's voice?" Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

Draco winced slightly, trying to find the words that would help her understand how he was feeling. "Sorry, it's hard to articulate. You know that person who had the adage? Everything that can go wrong will go wrong? You used it last year."

Hermione couldn't help it, but she laughed a little too loudly for the library setting. A group of girls at a table to the left shot them warning glances at the same time an older Ravenclaw boy walked by their table and shushed them. Giving the students she had offended apologetic looks, she turned back to Draco and lowered her voice.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to laugh, but we have got to work on your use of Muggle references."

Her tone was so endearing that Draco couldn't find the energy to feel mad at her for his botched use of the phrase. He ducked his head in embarrassment and whispered, "But do you sort of get what I'm saying?"

Hermione squeezed his hand again, "Yes, Draco. I do, and I don't blame you for feeling that way because I do too."

Draco looked up at her, his eyes wide with shock, "What?"

 "I'm scared too, Draco. Terrified, in fact," Hermione admitted, "I think it's no secret that we care about each other… a lot, and that's…."

"Yeah," Draco nodded his head, trying to show that he realized what she meant when she trailed off and didn't complete the thought.

"You were my first friend, Draco. You're my best friend. I kept thinking about what would happen if we became more and it didn't work out. The thought of losing you… it's…"

"Unbearable," Draco finished for her.

"Yes," Hermione's voice was barely audible.

Draco took the pad of his thumb and brushed it across her cheek, taking away another tear that had escaped from her eye. He tried to look at her with as much assurance as he possibly could, "We won't let that happen, Hermione."

"How do you know," she asked. Hermione appreciated his optimism, but the rational side of her kept reminding her of all the things that could go wrong, like a bad penny that always turns up.

"Well, one, we are both too stubborn to fail," Draco teased her. Much to his relief, she playfully snorted at him before allowing him to continue, "And, two…."

He didn't get to articulate the rest of his thought because they were interrupted by the sound of a bulb on a camera flashing. Hermione jumped back from Draco when he turned around to find Rita Skeeter standing there with a sinister smirk on her face. She was fiddling with her jeweled spectacles as she placed a perfectly manicured hand on her obnoxious green skirt.

"Ah," Skeeter sighed mockingly before looking over at her quick notes quill, "Young love. It's so… stirring."

"Miss Skeeter, how unfortunate to see you again," Draco said, imitating the cool air of disdain his father often used when he was trying to intimidate someone. However, his harsh attitude had the opposite effect, for it seemed to spur the journalist on as she gave him another wicked smile.

"Now, now, Draco dear. Is that any way to treat an old family friend? Your mother will be very disappointed to hear about your poor manners," she cooed insincerely.

Hermione's mouth was in a firm line as she glared at the woman, "Why did you take a photo of us without our consent?"

Rita didn't even spare her a glance as she walked around the table to stand next to Draco. She clucked her tongue at him, "Oh, Draco, darling. I didn't mean to stumble across such an… intimate moment. Honest." 

"Then what did you want?" Draco asked her impatiently.

"I came to see if you and Miss Granger would give a quote to the Prophet about the first task, and here I find something more interesting," Rita purred. She had a mischievous glint in her eye as she looked between Draco and Hermione with a Cheshire grin, "A modern era Romeo and Juliet."

"How much for the picture, Rita?" Draco asked in a business-like tone. He ignored Hermione's protest as he stared down Skeeter. 

Rita's smile only widened, "Oh, Draco. I'm glad to see being in Gryffindor hasn't reduced your ability to play with the snakes. However, I'm not interested in your gold, especially when I have the entire mine right in front of me. Do you have any idea how many papers are going to sell when I publish the most scandalous love triangle between Harry Potter, Triwizard Champion, and his best friend, Draco Malfoy, heir to the Malfoy fortune?"

"Harry and I are not dating!" Hermione argued, "Most of that article you published wasn't even accurate! Stay away from my friends! You're a fraud and such a horrible woman."

"Hermione," Draco whispered in a warning tone, "Let me handle this."

The grin dropped from Rita's face as she finally turned and appraised Hermione. The journalist raised an eyebrow at her, ready to hurl an insult.

 "Such a mouthy girl. Not sure how you're able to keep the interest of such powerful wizards with that attitude," Skeeter snarked.

"That's enough. Take your cameraman and go," Draco ordered, clenching his fist.

"And if I don't," Rita challenged. When Draco didn't say or do anything else, Rita returned to smirking at him, "You know, if it wasn't for the tournament, you two might have made the front page. Too bad you'll have to settle for a side column. Oh, I wonder how daddy Lucius is going to react reading that juicy scoop."

"You have no business here!" a gruff voice with a thick Eastern European accent boomed, startling everyone in the vicinity. Draco and Hermione looked over and were surprised to find Viktor Krum standing there with an irate look on his face. "You vere banned from Hogwarts grounds until next task."

Rita creepily sized the world-famous Quidditch star up before grabbing her quick notes quill, "No matter. We already got want we wanted."

She flicked the quill at Krum's face before sauntering out of the Library. The cameraman took a quick photo of Krum and then scurried after her.

The three students looked at each other, trying to process what had just happened, when Draco came back to his senses and held out his hand to Krum, "Thanks for stepping in, although I now have a feeling her imaginary love triangle turned into a love square."

Krum shook Draco's hand, "No problem. I come and study vith you."

Hermione and Draco shared another look of surprise between them before looking back at Krum. The Bulgarian chuckled, "Yes, I knov. Looks are deceiving, but I do not have sav dust for brain. Durmstrang has homework as vell." 

"Of course," Hermione blurted out, "You can sit with us."

"Blagodarya ti," Krum replied. Draco and Hermione didn't know what he said, but they surmised that it possibly was a polite expression of acknowledgment in his native language. They slowly sat down across from the stern-looking Bulgarian going through books and parchment in his bag. To get his attention, Draco cleared his throat.

 "We obviously know who you are, but I'm Draco Malfoy."

"And I'm Hermione Granger," she said, introducing herself.

"Nice to meet you, Drako and Harmony," Krum replied as he pulled out the textbook he was searching for. Draco and Hermione shared one final silent conversation, asking one another if they should correct the Bulgarian on their name annunciations, but decided that there have been too many bizarre things to deal with and just let it be.

__________________

On the Thursday during the first week of December, a notice was posted in the Gryffindor Common Room that informed all members of the house of lions that they were required to be in the Great Hall at two o'clock the coming Saturday. Nothing on the flyer indicated what this all-house meeting would entail, but that didn't stop the Gryffindors from speculating. The golden quartet was just sitting down to lunch when the mail started swooping in from the various owls. Hedwig dropped off a couple of packages to Harry while Ariel dropped off a letter and the Daily Prophet to Draco. The blond looked at the two owls for a moment, confused why they were perched together and… snuggling, for lack of a better term, when Hermione gasped.

"Look at this! I can't believe she's done it again!"

As Hermione was furiously smoothing out the paper, Ron looked up with a mouth full of food, "Who's done what now?"

"Skeeter," Draco sneered as he looked at the picture of him and Hermione in the Library. It looped a few times of them leaning forward before abruptly springing apart as the camera flashed.

As the loop continued repeatedly, Hermione scanned the article before she read it to the group. "Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a flair for the dramatic as she finds herself caught not only in the middle of a sensationalized love triangle but has somehow also caught the attention of none other than the Bulgarian bonbon Viktor Krum! Sources report that Miss Granger has been toying with the affections of Hogwarts's unexpected champion, Harry Potter, and his best friend, Draco Malfoy. The two were unfortunately not available to comment on their broken hearts."

"I told you to let me handle her," Draco admonished lightly, "Skeeter is ruthless. Even though most of her articles aren't true, she has a way of finding out information to use against people."

"Speaking of, she said she was… and I quote… 'an old family friend.' Was there any truth to that?" Hermione questioned.

"Unfortunately, she is friends with my mother, although I would describe their relationship as more of an amicable partnership than a friendship. My mother invites her to all the Pureblood soirees, and Rita writes favorably about our family," Draco explained.

Ron whistled, "Rotten luck, mate."

Hermione aggressively folded up the paper and shoved it in her bag. Her brown eyes were steeled with determination as she gathered her things and mumbled under her breath about getting Skeeter back when she stood up from the table. Hermione looked down at Draco for a moment before she crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. When Draco still didn't move, she huffed, "Well? Are you coming?"

"Where?" Draco asked before reaching to take another bite of his sandwich.

Hermione glared at him with annoyance, "The Library. We are supposed to be meeting Viktor."

"Viktor? As in Viktor Krum?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"What are you two doing consorting with the enemy?" Ron accused.

"The enemy?" Hermione repeated in an incredulous tone, "Don't be absurd. We don't even talk to him! He just sits with us and occasionally asks us where certain sections are."

"Apparently, we keep his fangirl club away," Draco added, gathering his satchel.

"Oh," Ron said, sounding slightly appeased with the limited interaction they had with the Durmstrang champion, "Well, do keep an eye on what he's reading. And could you get me his autograph?"

Draco laughed while Hermione rolled her eyes and dragged him out of the Great Hall into the Library.

_____________________

On the Saturday in question, all of Gryffindor house gathered in the Great Hall. Draco's eyes widened when he saw that the house tables were gone, and there was a giant gramophone that Filch was tuning in the corner.

"Alright, boys, take a seat on the left side! Girls, sit on the opposite," McGonagall ordered,

"Your attention, please," McGonagall called out, commanding the room to order. When the students quieted, their Head of House continued. "Now, I'm sure several of you have been speculating as to why you had to purchase dress robes and gowns for this year, but probably more so why you have been gathered here on this fine Saturday afternoon. Hogwarts will have the privilege of hosting an event that has been a tradition of the tournament since its inception. As representatives of the host school, I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward. And I mean that quite literally because the Yule Ball is first and foremost… a dance!"

Several of the girls gasped in excitement and started murmuring amongst themselves while most of the boys either groaned or brooded silently. McGonagall held out her hand and silenced the room. When the students quieted down again, she went on in a stern tone, "The house of Godric Gryffindor has commanded the respect of the wizarding world for nearly ten centuries. I will not have you, in the course of a single evening, besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons!"

Draco tried to pay attention to the rest of McGonagall's lecture, but keeping his concentration proved difficult. All his focus went into keeping himself from laughing at Fred and George's quiet competition to see who could say the Assistant Headmistress's alliteration the fastest. He caught the last part of her speech where McGonagall compared the girls to swans when Ron leaned over and whispered, "Something's about to burst out of Eloise Midgen, but I don't think it's a swan."

Draco covered his smirk with a cough while Harry turned away, practically failing to hide his snickering.

"Inside every boy, a lordly lion prepared to prance. Mr. Weasley," McGonagall stated primly.

Ron gulped, "Yes, Ma'am?"

McGonagall held out her hand, "Will you join me, please?"

Ron stood up and walked with McGonagall to the center of the room. Harry and Draco were outright chuckling at this point as McGonagall asked Ron to place his hand on her waist.

Ron gaped at their Head of House, "Your what?"

"My waist," McGonagall repeated in a patient tone.

Fred let out a catcall-like whistle as the professor provided more instructions on how the boys should stand and hold their partners. She then ordered Mr. Filch to turn on the music. When the familiar melody started playing from the sound horn, Draco and Harry completely lost all control of themselves. They began to openly chuckle at Ron as McGonagall guided the redhead through the steps.

Harry leaned forward, "You are never going to let me forget this, are you?"

Draco shook his head, "Never."

He didn't pay any attention to the rest of the demonstration and solely focused on laughing at Ron's misery. Having grown up with formal ballroom instruction, Draco was beyond prepared for the simple waltz that McGonagall demonstrated and could confidently dance this routine in his sleep. After a few more minutes, McGonagall ordered everyone else on their feet. All the Gryffindor girls immediately stood up and walked to the center of the room to wait for a male counterpart. Almost all the boys stayed rooted in their seats, grimacing at the thought of having to dance.

"Boys! On your feet!" McGonagall chastised. The only one that listened to her was Neville. The poor sod stood up and partnered with Parvati Patil. McGonagall then started going down the line and dragged each boy one by one to a girl across the room. During this process, Draco looked over to find Hermione was staring at him. When the two locked eyes, she blushed and then quickly turned away from him.

"No way," Dean protested, "I'm not dancing!"

Sensing the inevitable reality that he would be paired with a random girl if he didn't go willing, Draco dramatically sighed before rising from his seat, "Oh, come on, lads."

He walked purposefully over to Hermione and tapped her on the shoulder. She spun around in surprise and smiled as he held out his hand to her. She was blushing profusely as she tentatively took it before he pulled her in close and whispered, "Just follow my lead."

They turned around the room as Draco gracefully moved her towards the sport where Harry, Fred, George, and Dean were sitting. He flashed them a smirk, "Are you saying you don't want the opportunity to hold a beautiful woman in your arms?" 

He winked at Hermione before guiding her into a ballroom spin. Hermione gleefully laughed as Draco brought her back into their first position and then continued their dance into another waltz square. Per the next step of the routine, Draco tested his Gryffindor bravery and carefully placed both hands on the side of her waist before whispering in her ear, "Put your hands on my shoulders."

Draco was pleased when she trusted him enough to follow the order without hesitation. He then picked her up and spun her simultaneously before placing her back on the floor and led her into another turn. Hearing Hermione's squeak of surprise was completely worth the risk. Draco didn't know how long the song had gone on, but he found himself ignoring the rest of the world as he remained captivated by the witch in his arms. Likewise, Hermione felt like she was living out a medieval fairytale dream where she was playing the part of Guinevere. The scene? The princess accepts a dance from the strong, heroic Lancelot before the knight secretly requests his love to meet him in the rose garden at midnight. But before Draco could say anything else, he registered the sound of applause and McGonagall's voice cutting through the haze that built around them, shattering the dream.

"Well done Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger. A perfect example worthy of 20 points to Gryffindor," their Head of House praised before moving about to other couples.

They remained in the Hall for almost a full hour before McGonagall released everyone. As she was encouraging everyone to keep practicing, Fred Weasley slid over and stood behind Draco.

"Good Godric, Malfoy. Way to show the rest of us up."

"You two were terrific," Angelia Johnson said near them.

"So romantic," Katie Bell gushed.

"I felt like we were intruding on a private moment," Alicia Spinnet giggled before they all walked out of the Hall together. Neither in the group looked back to see Draco and Hermione blushing at the compliments.

__________________

Since the day Viktor stood up to Skeeter, Krum had crashed all of Hermione and Draco's study sessions in the Library. Draco didn't mind at first, but he had planned to use one of these periods to ask Hermione to the Yule Ball because it was practically the only time he could manage to spend with her alone. Draco didn't fancy having an audience or entertaining a possible interruption the first time he asked Hermione out. Though Viktor was quiet and often left them alone, his presence created this level of awkwardness at the table, which prevented Hermione and him from conversing or just generally being affectionate with one another. This made trying to ask your best friend, who he was now low-key formally courting, to the dance more challenging than expected. In all honesty, Draco thought he probably shouldn't complain. After all, how many people can say that a world-famous Quidditch player asked to study with them? He was going to bring the topic up with Hermione after taking this rare opportunity with her alone to ask her out finally. But his mind suddenly became fixated when he saw the chain of her bracelet peak out from under her jumper.

He smiled, "You put it back on."

Hermione looked up at him in surprise before turning back to unpacking her study materials. He found the way she was trying to hide the blush that started to form across her cheeks adorable.

"Yes. It… felt right," she replied, a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth.

Draco didn't say anything else about the bracelet and elected to start preparing his study space. He was trying to mentally talk himself up by repeating how he could ask Hermione to the Ball.

Hermione, would you like to go to the Ball together?

May I accompany you to the Yule Ball this Twenty-fourth of December?

Do you want to go to the Ball with me?

Would you give me the honor of escorting you to the Yule Ball?

Hey Granger! You. Me. Dancing?

Draco cringed. Each one sounded worse than the last. He was starting to think this whole endeavor was hopeless when Draco found the Pink Coconut Ice that he had tried to give Hermione on the Hogwarts Express. He smirked as an idea formed in his head.

"You know," Draco casually mentioned, "It's such a shame Hogwarts isn't holding the inner house Quidditch matches."

Hermione simply hummed in acknowledgment as she creaked open her Transfiguration textbook.

Not satisfied with her response, Draco popped open the container lid and plucked one of the sugary cubes from inside. "How are the teams supposed to stay in shape and prepare for next year? What if I lose all my scoring abilities?"

Hermione chuckled, "I sincerely doubt that. You're an excellent player, Draco. Not playing for one year won't take away the years of skill you have achieved." She finally turned to face him and raised an eyebrow at the candy in his hand.

"As much as I love your vote of confidence… do you think you can help me practice?" Draco smirked, "Open up, Hermione."

"You cannot be serious," Hermione said. She tried to sound stern but failed when she couldn't stop smiling. If you asked her, she would deny it, but Hermione greatly appreciated this carefree side of Draco that he seemed to reserve only for the people he loved. He was funny, charming, and, right now, being absolutely ridiculous, but it was so endearing that it made Hermione's heart flutter like the wings of a hummingbird.

"I'm completely serious! Please, Hermione," Draco lowered his voice and leaned forward, "Be the goal."

Hermione snorted at Draco's resolute tone before turning back to her homework. "Draco! You will make a mess, and then we will get into trouble."

"Doubt my abilities, do you, Granger," Draco teased.

Hermione playfully rolled her eyes, "As a Quidditch player, no. As a professional candy tosser, yes."

"How about we make a bet? That seems to be something we like doing," Draco stated nonchalantly.

She snorted again before turning her body to give Draco her full attention again. She didn't know what had gotten into Draco today. "Oh?"

Draco smirked, "If I can get this cube into your mouth on the first try, would you go to the Yule Ball with me?"

Hermione felt like all the air in her lungs suddenly vanished. Her smile dropped, and her eyes widened. Had Draco just asked her to the Yule Ball? And he didn't do it in any of these insane romantic sappy ways that she had seen other students employ around the castle. There was no dramatic dance number or large sign in the Great Hall. No, he did it in the most Draco way possible.

Their way. 

She held out for a few more moments, trying not to overthink everything, before eventually caving and opening her mouth.

Significantly pleased with himself, Draco took his first shot. The cube sailed in an arch over the short distance and landed just to the left of Hermione's mouth. She laughed, relieving the tension built by anticipation when the sugar hit her cheek, and quickly reached up to catch the candy before placing it in her mouth.

"Well, that's not promising," Draco said sadly. 

Hermione shook her head, trying to keep her tone light, "Guess you are going to have to find another way to ask me to the Ball.

With a look of determination, Draco pulled another cube out of the package, "No, I think I like this way."

She gasped, "Again? Just how many are you going to throw at me?"

"Until I make it," Draco replied, angling his wrist.

"And if you make none?" Hermione questioned with a teasing glint in her eye. Secretly, she was rooting for Draco.

"Then you will just have to help me nurse my bruised ego and have mercy on me," Draco said in a somewhat teasing tone.

Hermione rolled her eyes. She would have to correct his dramatics when this was over, for, in her head, she had already agreed to go with him when he initially made the bet. "Alright. I guess you can keep trying."

There was no bite behind her response, but Draco felt the pull of a challenge in her tone. He was just about to make his second attempt when someone cleared their throat, causing Draco and Hermione to turn around and find a Beauxbaton student standing near their table. Hermione couldn't help but notice that the girl was lean and tall with perfectly straight dark-brown hair pulled out of her face, which of course, was strikingly gorgeous. Hermione narrowed her eyes at the girl for interrupting when Draco set the candy down.

"'ello, Draco," the French girl greeted with a thick accent, holding out her hand in a manner that reminded Hermione of something in a period film.

"Aurelie," Draco replied, taking her hand and giving it a peck, "How are you?"

"Very well, Merci!"

"Are you enjoying your time at Hogwarts?" Draco asked with a polite, practiced tone that he was straining to maintain.

Aurelie smiled at him, "Zis not Beauxbaton, but could be worse. We could 'ave been in ze mountains of Bulgaria."

Draco laughed, "That's too true. And I wouldn't have gotten the chance to see you. Sorry I haven't had the chance to catch up. The school year has been tough."

"Oui, wiz 'Arry Potter entering ze tournament," she added.

"Yes, that's part of it," Draco said before seeing Hermione's skeptical expression out of the corner of his eye. He cleared his throat, "How rude of me. Allow me to introduce to you my best friend and housemate, Hermione Granger. She is top in our class and, dare I say it, the brightest witch of our age!"

Hermione smiled but lightheartedly rolled her eyes at Draco's greeting before holding out her hand for Aurelie to shake, "He's so dramatic sometimes. Hermione is just fine."

"And she's being modest," Draco corrected, smirking at her with a look of pride in his eyes. 

Aurelie glared at Hermione's hand with a look of disgust, causing the Gryffindor to drop it. Hermione pierced her eyes on the French girl, "Is there something we can help you with?"

"Are you taking her to the Ball?" Aurelie asked with hurt in her voice, completely ignoring Hermione's harsh tone.

"I'm… sorry… what?" Draco stuttered out in shock.

Huffing, Aurelie handed a piece of parchment to Draco. "Our fathers have arranged for us to attend together."

"No," Draco said under his breath as he scanned the letter.

"I don't think Draco's father gets to decide who he takes to the Ball," Hermione argued, looking at the Beaubaxton student with contempt.

Aurelie smiled cruelly at her, "Oh, but zis very rude if Draco does not. Dishonorable if he refuses."

That was when Viktor approached the table, bowing in greeting. As he set his bag down, he looked between the three students in confusion, "Have I valked into something?"

"No," Aurelie said flippantly, "I was telling Draco ze good news. He is taking me to ze Yule Ball."

Krum nodded, "Congratulations."

Aurelie was either unaware or didn't care about the scene she had just caused in the Library, but she had a vindictive look on her face as she saw the devastation in Hermione's eyes. It didn't take the Gryffindor long to realize that Draco wouldn't fight the circumstances created from the contents of the letter and would accept that this is how Lucius would interfere with his school year. The thought crushed all her daydreams of dancing the night away in Draco's arms.

The French girl turned to look at Draco, "I am excited! Will be just like when we were children. But we should coordinate, of course. Let's meet later zis week. Au revoir, Draco."

There was a stunned silence over the table as Hermione looked down at her parchment, tears pooling in her eyes. Draco had crumpled up the letter in his hands before throwing it in his bag. Krum briefly glanced up to find a pained look on Hermione's face and then found Draco leaving the table.

"I need to head to the Owlery," Draco informed them briskly before storming out of the Library.

Hermione didn't watch him leave. She stared at the parchment in front of her, trying to come to terms with what had just happened. He was so close! So close to asking her to the Yule Ball, but of course, those stupid pureblood customs had to ruin everything! She didn't even understand how this one worked? Did parents of pureblood children often arrange dates for their heirs? The more she kept trying to rationalize it, the more wound up she became, to the point that she felt the pull of the bracelet trying to calm her down. Slowly, she reached down to pull back the edge of her jumper before she focused on the magic of the bracelet. She gasped when she saw the last jewel turning back to periwinkle. Hermione felt the rage start all over again when Krum cleared his throat.

"Are you vell?"

She looked up at him and snapped, "Not really. But I will be."

Krum didn't flinch at her tone, "She's a nasty girl."

His remark made Hermione scoff, "Why do you say that?"

"I hear her sometimes. Vhen vith her friends, she likes to talk. Says shallov things about Drako," Krum revealed.

That piqued Hermione's interest, "What kinds of things?"

Krum grimaced, his face revealing he did not want to be having this conversation, "Meaningless things. About vealth and marriage contracts."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat, "Is she…."

Krum shook his head, "She bragged about being next Lady Malfoy and mentioned Drako vould take her to Ball."

The thought made Hermione's heart drop in her stomach. Lucius was already in the process of trying to find Draco a wife? But why? He was at least a year and a half younger than when Narcissa entered into her marriage contract. As far as she knew, Lucius had no knowledge that Draco had given her a courting gift, so why the sudden push? She was mulling this over when the realization struck her: the article and the Slytherin gossip. Lucius probably saw the horrible column by Rita Skeeter along with the tidbits dropped from the Pureblood families that Draco had given Hermione a bracelet for her birthday. The man could be trying to save the family's reputation by having Draco take a pureblood French girl instead of a muggleborn witch.

"Do not blame Drako."

Hermione shook her head, coming out of her thoughts, "What?"

"Do not blame him, Harmony. Not his fault he must obey customs," Krum rephrased.

"Oh, is it common for pureblood families to arrange dates?" Hermione asked sarcastically.

"Da. And if my parents vere alive, they vould have done same as Drako's," Krum revealed.

Hermione's face dropped, "Oh, I'm so sorry, Viktor."

He waved her off, "Long time ago. Besides, I can't choose vho I vant."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him, "Care to elaborate?"

Krum remained impassive as he stared at Hermione. He looked as if he was trying to decide to trust her when he finally spoke, "I can't choose vho I vant because I vant a vizard."

"Oh," Hermione looked confused, "But… why?"

"It not traditional and illegal in Bulgaria," Krum explained. He looked down at his textbook, signaling that he was done with the conversation.

Hermione turned away as well, feeling embarrassed for having prodded something so personal from the Quidditch player. Her apology was barely above a whisper, but Krum inclined his head.

"Vould you be villing to attend vith me?"

Hermione gaped, "What?"

"Vould you go to Yule Ball vith me?"

"I… but… why?" Hermione blurted out. She shuddered, "Sorry, I just… You want to go with someone who is… someone like me?"

"I do not care for blood status. You are friend and vill not fawn over me," Krum replied, a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips. Anywhere, except for the Library, that Viktor went, he had a gaggle of girls following him. Many of them giggled like lunatics either over his fame or money. They were nothing except disruptive and intrusive to Viktor. The Bulgarian had very little wants in his life. Since his parents died at the age of 14, he was able to claim the Krum title all while continuing to try out for professional Quidditch teams. Durmstrang had a highly competitive environment and pushed their students to achieve success, which helped to partially prepare Viktor for the struggles that came from being rich, famous and single. For the most part, all he wanted was to play the sport he loved and find a partner who respected him. But having to live a lie about his preferences and deal with the constant invasions of his privacy became taxing. The only time anyone left him alone was when he was studying with the Hogwarts students he had befriended. It was not a coincidence that Viktor chose the two Gyrffindors. While he may have spun the alliance to Karkaroff as gathering intel on Harry Potter, Viktor was hoping to get to know Draco more.

As soon as Viktor found out about the Yule Ball, he had been dreading about attending. He knew this meant he would be obligated to find a date, which only made him grimace more when he thought about all the prospects. So, when he saw that Hermione was emotionally attached to Draco and, yet, they would not be going together, Viktor took this as his opportunity to secure a date whom he could have a semi-pleasant evening with. He waited on bated breath as he watched Hermione contemplate his request. 

For her part, Hermione was still trying to process the events which had occurred in the past 10 minutes. She was getting emotional whiplash from it all, yet, she still was able to keep a level head. She blinked a couple of times and realized Viktor was still waiting on her to make a decision. Making a split-second decision, she put the Bulgarian out of his misery and shot him a kind smile. 

_______________________

Draco was furious. It was hard for him to believe that his father had gone behind his back and arranged a date to the Yule Ball. The act alone completely blindsided him, but what hurt even more was knowing that his father, with his conniving nature, worked it so Aurelie would be the one to deliver the news. A part of him was kicking himself for wasting so much time with his plan involving the candy and Hermione. If he had just asked her to the Ball point-blank, then he could have had grounds to refuse the arrangement. It also made him sick to his stomach to think that even if he could arrange an out, it could have caused more trouble than it was worth and possibly had negative impacts towards Hermione. Regardless of how it all turned out, Draco was mainly just disappointed in himself for not sticking around to see how Hermione was doing when it was all said and done. He wasn't even truly thinking when he stormed away. His only thoughts at the time were of reaching out to his mother. He had begged her for help out of this situation, but to no avail. 

When Draco tried talk to Hermione about everything later, she continuously shut down his attempts and stated she just wanted to move on. A part of him worried that there was a double meaning behind that phrase. She had been actively avoiding him again. That's why he was taken by surprise when he bumped into her. He had been going to deliver a letter to the Owlery to his mother, even though she said there was nothing she could do when Hermione returned from the Black Lake.

"Geeze, Granger, did the cold make you blind?" Draco teased her.

Hermione rolled her eyes, "No, Draco. I was just doing some studying."

"Out here? Hermione, it's freezing!" Draco exclaimed. He raised his wand and cast a warming charm around them before he placed his cold hand on her cheek. Draco waited a few moments as the magic activated and gave a small sigh of relief when he felt the warmth seeping back into her skin.

Hermione was very grateful that her cheeks were so worn by the weather that he couldn't distinguish between her blush and the coloring left by the wind. Part of her was feeling guilty for being closed off from him lately, but she didn't know how to broach the topic of Viktor asking her to the Ball. She was almost afraid of how he would react since she wouldn't hear what happened with Aurelie and the possible meaning behind his arranged decision with his family.

These days, Hermione found herself surrounded by the frenzy of finding the perfect date, which seemed to have consumed the school since the event's announcement. Harry and Ron bemoaned every night in the Common Room about their struggles to find someone to go with. Even the sanctity of the Library had been compromised as an increased number of people used the privacy the stacks allowed to strategize on asking their potential partner.

Feeling the need to defend herself from being called out, she took a step back, so his hand dropped from her face. "I couldn't go to the usual spots! Everyone is going on and on about getting dates to the Yule Ball, and the conversations were just making me sick. I thought I could escape it by reading by the Black Lake."

"Ah, I see. Has no one asked you I take it?" Draco inquired, being as subtle as a giant. While he didn't necessarily want Hermione to be sad or wind up going alone, a sick part of him was pleased that she hadn't agreed to go with anyone else.

Hermione looked at him, trying to figure out his tone. It was harsher than usual but not overtly hostile. She met his grey eyes, which were slightly furrowed to match the small frown he had displayed on his face. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.

"Actually, someone did—last week. And… I said yes…."

Draco opened and closed his mouth like a fish gasping for air. He couldn't believe it. Someone had asked her? When exactly did that happen last week? But more importantly… who? Draco clenched his jaw for a second, trying to keep himself from lashing out or possibly interrogating her. He released a steady breath through his nose before he quietly asked, "Who?"

"Viktor," she replied with more confidence than she felt. Hermione was getting annoyed as she noticed the telltale signs that Draco was about to lose his temper.

"Krum!" Draco yelled, a bubble of jealously popping in his chest. Fury lit behind his eyes, the building rage causing him to start pacing back and forth. If she got asked a week ago, then the Durmstrang champion must have done it right after he stormed out of the Library. The bastard! "Didn't realize your type was tall, dark, and stupid."

"Draco!" Hermione chastised him, making Draco stop in his tracks and face her.

She had, had enough of his outbursts. A part of her understood that Draco was upset, but she was agitated as well. That didn't give him the right to be saying such awful things about someone that should be considered their friend. She knew that if Lucius Malfoy had not made the play, she would have been going with Draco to the Ball. She also was trying not to think about how this move in Pureblood politics could have long-term commitments.

Watching him resume pacing back and forth, a smile turned up her lips as she realized that his outbursts always revolved around his jealously, and that is all it was right now. Pushing past her irritation, she flashed Draco a smirk to rival one of his own. "Honestly. The question caught me completely off guard. I think I said yes because I was in shock."

Draco's face relaxed only slightly as he stopped moving again, "Well, that's good to hear."

"What? That I was in shock," Hermione questioned him, raising her eyebrow at Draco again.

"No, that he's not your type," Draco quickly corrected, his cheeks turning red. He could feel the heat of the warming charm start to wear off, but Draco was feeling the hot flush of humiliation for his behavior overheating him.

Hermione blinked in surprise at how easy that had been, but he still hadn't outright said how he was feeling. Seeing a challenge in front of her, Hermione's smirk turned into a smile, "And, just what do you think is my type, Draco Malfoy?"

"Oh, I don't… I just mean…." Draco stuttered, cursing himself. His brain was trying to catch up with the different reactions Hermione was giving him.

"No, no. I'm curious now. What is my type?" Hermione asked as she got an inch closer, raising her chin to meet him directly in the eye, all while clutching her textbook to her chest. "Come on, Draco. Use that Gryffindor courage I know you possess," she challenged him.

Well, two can play that game, Granger.

The smug look was absolutely adorable on her, but Draco was raised in Pureblood circles and knew all about how to verbally dance around a partner. Taking a deep breath, he leaned back against the pillar they were next to so she was not in his space any longer. He took slight amusement in the curious tilt to her head as he backed away from her. "I don't know, Hermione. But I sure did think that it was going to be someone that regularly challenged you and definitely pushed you past your sensibilities." He smirked as his words set in, and he saw the slimmer of excitement in her eyes.

Hermione's heart was racing at the game they were playing, and before she could think of her next move, she heard voices filling the courtyard.

"I need to get to the Owlery. I'll see you later for study hall," Draco said, taking advantage of the perfect opportunity to escape.

"I'll see you later," Hermione said begrudgingly as she turned to walk away from his retreating form.

_____________________

Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Draco were sitting at the long Gryffindor table later that afternoon for a study hall period in between classes. Hermione, of course, was reading and scribbling in her composition. Draco was also working on an essay while Harry was barely reading his textbook when Ron turned around and watched Theodore Nott ask Pansy Parkinson to the Yule Ball.

"This is mad!" Ron whispered aggressively, "At this rate, we will be the only ones without dates."

Snape had come up behind Ron and pushed his head back around to his notebook in a failed attempt to get the redhead to start his essay. 

Draco suppressed a smirk while Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well, us and Neville," Ron snickered. 

"He can take himself," Harry echoed Ron's tone.

Draco peered up at Hermione with a knowing look, causing her to raise her head and whisper across the table, "It might interest you that Neville already got someone."

Ron sighed, "Now I'm really depressed."

Draco chuckled at Ron's desperation to get a date when he looked up to see Ron and Harry staring at him, "What?"

"It's not funny, mate. Besides, I haven't heard you got a date," Ron replied, agitated.

"Actually, my family arranged one of the Beauxbatons students for me to escort. Aurelie Dumont. She's the daughter of one of my father's French associates and a childhood friend," Draco confessed, bringing his head back down to his essay just in time to avoid Snape's punishment. He risked a glance over at Hermione sitting next to him and saw the briefest hesitation in the scratching of her quill. She, of course, knew this information already, but her reactions were confusing yet telling at the same time.

Despite the circumstances behind his date, Harry nodded in approval at his friend while Ron quickly ducked his head to avoid Snape as the professor walked by. Suddenly, a piece of paper flew diagonally across the table and landed in front of Ron.

The Gryffindor raised the parchment slightly as Harry leaned over his shoulder to read it.  Get a move on, or all the good ones will be gone.

Ron quickly tossed the paper right back to Fred and whispered, "Who are you going with then?"

Fred wadded the piece of paper up and threw it to across the table on his left, hitting Angelia Johnson's arm.

Angelia turned around, annoyed until she saw Fred mouthing and gesturing to ask her to the Ball. She smiled, whispering back yes, causing Fred to turn back to Ron and wink.

Neville, George, and Draco were quietly laughing at the shocked look on Ron's face. Neither was surprised at the young Weasley's disbelief in his older brother's charm and confidence.

Anger started to fill Ron as he took Fred's note as a challenge. Not wanting to be outdone, Ron leaned across the table, "Oi, Hermione. You're a girl."

"Well spotted," Hermione said, taking offense to Ron's statement, yet she entertained the interruption as she raised her head slightly to look at Ron.

"Abandon all hope, mate," Draco quietly warned as he got up to walk around the table and turn in his composition. He recognized that tone and knew Ron was about to experience the fury of an irate Hermione Granger. He loved his friend dearly, but for someone so good at strategizing, he could be an idiot sometimes.

Harry was frantically trying to get Ron's attention as the redhead continued to ask Hermione to the Ball pathetically. Snape had snatched Draco's composition out of the Gryffindor’s hand and used it to hit Ron and Harry in the back of their heads. Snape then pointed a look at Draco, who took the warning to heart and hurried out of the Great Hall.

Once Snape had left, Ron turned back to Hermione and said, "It's one thing for a boy to show up alone, but for a girl, it's just sad."

"I won't be going alone because, believe it or not, someone's asked me!" Hermione whispered angrily at Ron. She closed her composition with a loud slam and stood up. Her steps sounded abnormally loud as she walked over to the Potions Master before handing her notebook to the professor with no comment. Hermione returned to the table and quickly gathered her books. She turned back to Ron and Harry to whisper aggressively, "And I said yes!"

Ron and Harry watched as Hermione hurried out of the Great Hall and turned down the same corner Draco had disappeared through only moments ago.

"What's she on about?" Ron asked.

"Don't know," Harry replied, "But seriously? You asked Hermione out in front of Draco?"

"Yeah, didn't think that one through. But why does he care? He's not going to the Ball with her, and anyway, it wouldn't mean anything romantic to me if Hermione and I did go together. Why do you think she lied about having a date?" Ron speculated.

"Not 100% sure." 

"Look, we just got to grit our teeth and do it. Tonight, before we get back to the Common Room, we agree, we will both have partners," Ron decided.

"Agreed," Harry said.

Both were oblivious to the fact that Snape was standing behind them, rolling up his sleeves as he simultaneously pushed Ron and Harry's heads down towards the table in a last-ditch effort to get them to focus on their schoolwork.

___________________

"Draco!" Hermione called out as she tried to catch up with him. Between his jealously earlier this morning and the absurd interaction with Ron and Harry in the Great Hall, she was fired up and ready for an argument. Hermione was going to get some answers out of him whether he liked it or not.

"Hey, love. Are you alright?" Draco asked with concern in his voice.

Hermione grabbed his wrist and pulled him into an abandoned classroom. She slammed the door behind her before she cast a privacy and silencing charm, "We need to talk."

"Okay…" Draco trailed off, waiting for Hermione to continue.

Hermione stopped pacing as she reluctantly turned around to face Draco. She slumped a bit when she saw how concerned he looked for her. Hermione took a couple of deep breaths before she crossed her arms and lowered her gaze, "So, you've agreed? You're officially going to the Ball with Aurelie?"

Draco's face fell slightly, "Yes. When I initially wrote my mother, she replied, saying there wasn't anything she could do to change his mind. When you caught me earlier, I was returning her letter."

"It's okay, Draco. I get it," her voice quivered slightly.

"Aurelie's family and mine have been friends for a long time. When we would vacation in France, our families were expected to socialize. Honestly, I haven't seen Aurelie in years! And, of course, when my mother found out, she was here for the tournament and told my father… taking her to the Ball felt inevitable."

"The articles and the Slytherins probably didn't help either," Hermione added.

"You're probably right," Draco said like he was admitting defeat.

Hermione recognized the sad tone in Draco's voice. The way the volume fell meant they were treading into his family history and the blood purity expectations that came with being an only son in one of the most prominent lineages of Great Britain. In the past four years, she and Draco had gotten very close. She opened up about her life as a muggle, and he had gradually opened up about the pressures and punishments he received from his family. 

"Can you be honest with me about something, Draco?" Hermione asked.

"I'm always honest with you, Hermione," Draco replied mildly miffed.

"Sorry, I just… are you going to accept a marriage contract with her?" Hermione rushed out. 

"A what? Where did you hear that?" Draco asked her, confused. When Hermione didn't answer him, he asked her again, "Where did you hear that?"

"Krum told me he heard her in the hallways gossiping about how her father and yours were in contract negotiations. And later, I heard Lavender tell Parvati that Aurelie was bragging that she was going to the Ball with her future husband," she revealed, trying not to cry. 

Draco blinked and stared at her in disbelief as he tried to process what she said. He wasn't even 16 yet! How could his father already be in contract negotiations? Never mind the fact that if one existed, Draco wasn't going to follow it. He would rather fight off 1,000 dementors than end up bound to someone like Aurelie, who didn't really care about Draco as a wizard. Even when she was younger, she only cared about the wealth and status the Malfoy name allotted her.

"Is it true?" Hermione asked as she raised her head to look Draco in the eye. Her voice trembled somewhat as she tried to hold back tears for fear of facing the reality that she was about to lose her closest friend to a world that would never accept her.

Before she could react, Draco leaned forward and gently kissed Hermione on the lips. It wasn't supposed to be sexual, but it erupted a passion and shock that awakened every nerve in Hermione's body. Against her better judgment, she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck to return his lips back to hers. She didn't regret their first kiss at the World Cup, only that it was over too soon. But this one... she was determined to keep him there for as long as they could stand. Her inexperience made the encounter slightly awkward, and Draco's surprise did not help. It only took him a second to register that Hermione had reciprocated his affection. Draco brought his arms to wrap around her waist, pulling her closer to his body as they continued moving their lips over one another.

They were oblivious as to how much time had passed before they were breaking away and panting. As she looked up at Draco, Hermione breathed out, "You didn't answer my question."

Draco laughed as he leaned his forehead against hers, "Always such a clever witch."

After taking a few more seconds to catch his breath, he pulled back a little bit to look at Hermione, "Most pureblood families do arrange marriages as a means to secure the lineage for the next generation. I had no idea that negotiations had started on my behalf, but I can assure you that nothing has been finalized. It… my mother would have told me if that was the case, but I know her well enough that she will make sure my father doesn't sign anything, especially with Aurelie. Even if it was her, it doesn't matter."

"You lost me," Hermione stated.

"You know I'm just going to the Ball with her because I don't have a choice. There are no real feelings there," Draco reassured Hermione.

"I understood that part. But, why doesn't your arrangement matter?" Hermione prodded. 

Draco quietly laughed, "I thought the answer to that would be a bit obvious."

"Oh…" Hermione trailed off, her cheeks blushing a deep scarlet as she looked down from Draco's intelligent grey eyes, feeling elated by his confession.

Draco tucked a stray curl back behind her ear, "I have a feeling I'm going to have to make a choice soon." He paused to take a steadying breath as he realized he was echoing the last words his father spoke to him before he left for school, "Actually, I'm going to have to make several choices."

"Because of what happened at the World Cup?" Hermione asked, refusing to let go of Draco, preventing him from moving away from her.

Draco could only nod, afraid of what would happen if he tried to speak. Hermione returned her gaze to look him in the eyes. She could see the pain he tried to hide behind them as he thought about leaving behind everything, everyone he grew up with, to escape the cycle his family wanted to burden him with. There was also an astronomical amount of guilt and shame for the causalities that happened that night. Hermione knew Draco tried so hard to distance himself from his father, but sometimes, he couldn't help but feel like he was accountable for his father's actions.

"You don't have to be ashamed, Draco. I know you weren't…." Hermione tried to empathize, but Draco cut her off.

"I should have known it was a trap. I should have been able to warn you. Hermione, I would never have been able to forgive myself if something happened…."

"Draco," Hermione said sternly, cutting him off his self-guilt rant as she pulled Draco closer to her, refusing to let him turn away from her. She didn't know where this was coming from, but he had to see that she didn't hate him. "You are not to blame. Don't take responsibility for actions that were not your own."

"But it wasn't enough," Draco said, matching her tone. After several seconds of silence, he softened his voice, "I want you to know though that despite all the choices I am inevitably about to make… I will always choose you."

Hermione gasped as she reached up on her tiptoes and hugged Draco with all the strength she possessed. Draco returned her embrace with equal force, trying to be mindful not to hurt her in his reciprocation. Before long, she pulled away just enough to give him a sweet and delicate kiss on his lips.

When she broke away, she said, "Draco, when you asked me this morning what my type was… my type is you."

They left the classroom together in agreement to keep their relationship a secret for the time being. With Harry participating in the tournament and their friendship with Ron still repairing itself, there was no telling how the boys would react to the news. And if that wasn't enough, Draco knew the Slytherins and Rita Skeeter were spying on him and reporting back information to his father. The last thing he needed was his father knowing he was now, officially, courting Hermione.

Divination was not Draco's favorite subject, but he could swear that he felt something was coming on the horizon when he went to bed that night. Whatever that was, he wouldn't allow it to hurt Hermione. 

Chapter Text

"I'm doomed," Harry groaned as he plopped down next to the Draco on the couch in front of the fireplace in the Gryffindor Common Room. 

Draco looked up from his textbook, "You will have to be more specific. Are you talking about the sodding tournament, your mediocre homework, or your abysmal social skills that have impeded you from asking out a witch?"

Harry gave his friend a fake laugh before he kicked Draco in the shin. "Git," he muttered with a hint of a smirk on his lips. 

Closing his book, Draco turned toward Harry and crossed his legs across the cushion, giving Harry his full attention. "In all seriousness… what's going on?"

Harry sighed, looking dejected, "The Yule Ball is a week and a half away, and I can't dance. Forget finding a date when I can't even perform the steps right! Do you know what McGonagall told me?"

 "No…" 

"She said that as one of the champions, I have to open the Ball! It's a special dance called the Champions' Waltz. Can you believe that?!" 

"Actually, yes. I can," Draco answered honestly. 

Harry groaned again, "Mate! You're supposed to be on my side. Help me get out of this, please?"

"Oh, no, no, no," Draco said, waggling a finger at Harry imperiously, "You wanted to play the double agent. Now you have to commit to the part." 

Harry slammed his head into the back of the couch, sighing in exasperation before he muttered, "I didn't think I would have to dance." 

Draco laughed, "Facing a dragon, no problem, but being asked to do something civilized? Out of the question!" 

Harry picked up one of the throw pillows and tossed it at Draco, "Stop acting like a git and be miserable with me if you aren't going to help come up with a plan that will get me excused from the Ball. I'm seriously thinking about stealing some of Fred and George's puking pasties and feigning illness." 

After Draco dodged the pillow, he gave his friend a thoughtful look, "Don't force yourself to be sick. Why don't you just ask Luna to work with you?"

The dark-haired wizard raised an eyebrow at him, "Luna? How can she help me?"

"Luna is an exceptional dancer. She used to take lessons with me growing up and our private tutor always complimented her for having a natural grace. If anyone can teach you, it would be her." 

Harry looked at him with a gleam of hope in his eye, "Well, she did tell me about the dragons…." 

___________________________

"Mate… I don't think I can do this…." Ron stuttered. 

Draco watched his redheaded friend in amusement as he leaned against the wall outside the Great Hall. It was officially the last day of classes, and with the Yule Ball only eight days away, Ron still needed a date. Stat. When Draco found this out last night, he offered to help his friend find a witch willing to accompany him. But that was proving difficult to do with the Gryffindor currently working himself into such a frenzy he wouldn't be able to speak, let alone ask someone a simple question as he kept pacing back and forth in front of Draco, muttering to himself.  

"I mean… I can't just… ask… can I? Girls are just so… complicated… And look! Mate, I'm sweating!" 

"Close your pits, Weasley. Look at me," Draco ordered, causing Ron to stop in his tracks and face his friend. "Take a deep breath.” 

When Ron followed the directions, Draco continued, "You just need to be relaxed and confident."  

"Easy for you to say," Ron hysterically retorted as Draco clapped him on the shoulders and gave him a little push towards the Hall. When Ron realized that Draco was guiding him to the Great Hall's entrance, he gulped and attempted to stop the blond by placing his feet out in front of him like a cartoon cat. "What are you doing? I'm not ready!" 

"Yes, you are," Draco said, forcing himself to stay patient as he dropped his hands from Ron's shoulders. "Now, take a scan of the room and see if there is anyone you recognize." 

Ron pointedly ignored the Slytherin table and did a quick look through the other house tables, "Well… there is Lavender Brown." 

Draco shook his head, "Nope, she is going with Seamus Finnegan." 

"Bloody hell, okay… what about Romilda Vane?" Ron asked. 

"Cormac McLaggen." 

"Melinda Bobbin?" Ron tried again.

"Another miss. She's going with Kevin Flintwhistle. Ravenclaw. And Parvati Patil is going with Justin Finch-Fletchley, a Hufflepuff. Why don't you try someone not in Gryffindor," Draco suggested, silently hoping that Ron would get the hint and find a certain lone Ravenclaw not far from his line of sight. When Draco initially offered to help Ron find a date, he sort of forgot to mention that Parvati cornered him and practically threatened Draco to have Ron ask her twin sister out. Apparently, Padma was painfully shy and not very sociable. However altruistic this may have appeared, Draco was not easily fooled, for the twins' parents issued an ultimatum. If Padma didn't have a date, Parvati wasn't allowed to stay for the Ball either. But Ron didn't need to know that he was being set up. It would only hurt Ron's confidence and permit Parvati to deliver on her ominous threat should Draco fail. 

Ron sighed, looking over at the Hufflepuff table. As soon as he opened his mouth to ask about Hannah Abbot, Draco shook his head. "Keep going," he said, trying not to sound irritated with how inept Ron was when it came to this sort of thing. 

Seeing no one else at the Hufflepuff table he recognized, Ron turned his attention to the Ravenclaws. He quirked an eyebrow when he saw Padma Patil sitting by herself with her tarot cards. "Hey, I think I know her." 

Atta boy, Weasley. 

Draco nodded, silently sighing in relief, "You should. Padma sits behind you and Harry in Divination." 

"Do you think someone has asked her already?" Ron asked. 

Draco tried not to roll his eyes, "I have it on good authority that no one has asked Padma to the Ball."

"Great!" Ron enthused before his face dropped again, "Now, how do I do it?"

"Picture this," Draco said dramatically. He waved his arm out in front of them like a showman trying to get Ron to visualize the interaction, "You walk up to the table and sit across from the mysterious Ravenclaw. After a brief greeting, you ask her what she is working on and… politely… offer to help her with those Divination readings. When she pulls a few cards out, you randomly pick one and say something like, 'hey, I know the meaning to this one! A handsome boy is about to ask you to the Ball.' And when she blushes or goes to look up the meaning, that's when you say, 'Padma, will you go to the Ball with me?' Got it, Weasley?"

Ron's face remained fixed in terror as short puffs of air left his mouth, "Yea… Yeah, totally. I got… I can do this." 

"Yes. Yes, you can. Now go sock knocking," Draco ordered, giving Ron a little nudge. 

"Go what?"

"A muggle phrase Hermione taught me. It means to go and blow-up Padma's mind," Draco corrected, pushing Ron further into the Hall. 

Ron shook his head, "Mate, I don't know what any of that means." 

Draco waved him off, ignoring a pointed look from Parvati across the Hall, "It doesn't matter. Just remember to be confident when you ask her to the Ball." 

"Right," Ron said under his breath as he walked to the table with a new sense of determination. 

Draco leaned back against the wall once more and watched with pride as Ron took his instructions to heart. It took Ron maybe a total of five minutes before Draco relaxed at the sight of Padma nodding her head enthusiastically. Draco waited a few moments to see if Ron was going to get up, but the redhead shot him a quick thumbs up and stayed at the table, helping the Ravenclaw with her Divination homework. He was about to leave the Hall when Hermione, Harry, and Luna walked up to him. 

"Why are you standing over here?" Hermione asked. 

Draco inclined his head to where Ron was sitting with Padma, "I am a bloody miracle worker." 

"Did… you just help Ron get a date?" Harry questioned in disbelief. 

"Yes, Harry. I did," Draco smirked. 

"Oh, how lovely. Their auras don't match exactly, but they appear to be happy just the same," Luna commented. 

"How did dance lessons go?" Draco asked Harry and Luna.

"Harry is not very graceful, but he has great coordination. With just a little bit more practice, I suspect he will be ready by Christmas Eve," Luna replied in her whimsical voice. 

Harry blushed, slightly embarrassed by Luna's honest version of a compliment before he muttered, "Thanks." 

"How wonderful! I didn't know you could dance, Luna. Who is the lucky lad that gets to take you to the Ball?" Hermione asked politely. 

Luna scuffed her toes along the stone floor, looking visibly uncomfortable at the question, "Well… I'm not staying at Hogwarts for Christmas." 

"Why not?" Draco questioned abruptly.

Luna shrugged, "I don't have a date or a familial escort, so it didn't make sense if I was going to stay for the holiday and not go to the Yule Ball." 

"What she means…." a snotty voice suddenly piped up from the end of the Ravenclaw table, "Is that no one wants to take Looney Lovegood to the dance." 

Several others nearby started to snicker at Luna, enraging Draco. "Who are you?" he growled out as he shot the girl his nastiest glare.  

Luna gently padded Draco on the arm as she just nodded her head in greeting to her housemate, "Hello, Crystal Edgecombe." 

The Ravenclaw, Crystal, rolled her eyes and sneered, "You're so weird! Looney Lovegood with her made-up animals and stupid ideas. It's no wonder no one wanted to go with you. You don't even have any friends!" 

There was more snickering, which caused Draco to raise his wand. This time, Hermione reached over and harshly whispered for Draco to put it away before he got in trouble when Harry loudly cleared his throat. 

"Hey, Luna. Would you like to come with me to the Yule Ball?" 

His voice carried through the Hall, causing several students to look up and watch the scene that was playing out. 

Crystal snorted in disgust, "You can't be serious." 

Harry raised an eyebrow at the Ravenclaw, "I'm completely serious." He turned back to Luna, "You are a wonderful friend and beautiful dancer. I would be honored if you would be my date to the dance." 

Luna looked impassive or possibly perplexed by Harry's question to anyone who didn't know his cousin well. But to Draco… he knew Luna had been positively stunned into silence, but not just by the boy-who-lived himself, no! She was shocked that Harry had called her a friend. Draco couldn't help but smile as he watched Luna process the information behind her bright, kind blue eyes. After a few seconds, Luna lit up like a candle. She flashed Harry a smile so vast that it made her eyes crinkle in the corners. 

"I would love to attend with you, Harry," she beamed. "I've never been to a dance with a friend before." 

Some students who had paused to listen started to clap for them, which only humiliated Crystal even more. Seamus Finnigan whistled loudly and shouted, "Go, Harry!" from across the Hall, enticing his Hufflepuff housemates to clap for them. Crystal, now red as a tomato with embarrassment, slammed her hand on the table and stomped out of the Hall. 

Draco sneered at her as she passed him before he whispered to Hermione, "Remind me to ask Ginny to teach me her Bat-Bogey Hex." 

______________________________

Christmas Eve started just like any typical day. Harry, Ron, Draco, and Hermione made their way down to Breakfast. But instead of going to the Library or class afterward, the quartet found themselves pulled into a Weasley family snowball fight. After an hour, their drying charms had worn off, and Hermione excused herself to start preparing for the Ball. 

"Who needs six hours to get ready?" Ron commented, but Draco shrugged the remark off, being all too familiar with how long his mother would use to get ready for events. 

"We should probably start our routines soon," Draco said with a teasing smirk. "Merlin knows how long it's going to take to tame your mop of hair." 

Ron playfully threw another snowball at Draco before following the group of Gryffindors back to the Common Room. 

Four hours later, Harry and Ron looked like entirely different wizards thanks to Draco's diligent work. The blond spent the entire time alternating with helping his friends style their hair and showing them how to button their waistcoats properly. As promised, Draco saved Ron a lifetime of embarrassment and loaned him one of the three dress robe sets Narcissa had ordered. The low-laced collar paired well with Ron's newly slicked back hair and freshly plucked eyebrows. Surprisingly, Ron and Draco were about the same size, and the pants only required a bit of tailoring, all thanks to a Transfiguration spell. Even Harry's eyes widened with how stylish Ron looked. The redhead was currently twirling around in the floor-length mirror, unable to take his eyes off the ensemble.

"I look good!" Ron exclaimed with a broad smile and ecstatic eyes. 

Draco chuckled, "Well, don't snog the mirror! Save that for Padma." 

The comment made Ron blush and Harry laugh. Draco was just finishing up with his cufflinks when he noticed Harry's laugh suddenly stop and his face drop. He raised an eyebrow at this friend, "What is it? Not scared about your dancing debut, are you?"

Harry looked nervous. He started running his hands through his dark shaggy hair before finally looking at Draco. "You know I'm just going with Luna as a friend, right?"

"Yes…" Draco drawled in confusion. "You said as much when you asked her." 

"And there will be…." Harry gulped, "No… snogging… of any kind." 

"I should hope not," Draco said in a severe tone before he flashed Harry a smirk, "Otherwise, I'm going to have to duel you for compromising my cousin's honor." 

It was Ron's turn to laugh as Harry looked like all the color had drained from his face. "Don't worry, mate! Draco isn't really going to kill you. Who knows, maybe Luna will come onto you?"

"Nope," Harry corrected quickly, "There will be none of that. It will be a nice evening. With friends." 

"Friends who are going to try and save you from making a fool of yourself on the dance floor," Draco teased when the door suddenly flung open to reveal Neville Longbottom and Dean Thomas. 

"Whoa! Look at you three!" Dean exclaimed, grinning like a fool with slightly glassy eyes. 

Ron did a double-take at the sight of their dormmate when he tentatively asked, "You alright there, Thomas?"

Dean nodded emphatically. "Yeah…" he drawled out before hiccupping at the end. 

Neville rolled his eyes, "Some of the seventh years snuck alcohol into the dorm and are throwing a party downstairs." 

"What kind?" Ron asked, taking a giant step towards the dorm room exit. 

Draco forcibly grabbed Ron's shoulder while Harry grabbed the other and pulled the redhead back in line. "Not a good idea," Draco warned. 

"Honestly, I have no idea," Neville said, shrugging his shoulders, "I wasn't stupid enough to partake." 

"I think…" Dean hiccupped again, "I understand when…" hiccup. "When mum said…" hiccup. "Don't take drinks... from… strangers!" 

"Dear Merlin! Someone get this poor sod a Pepper-up potion!" Draco said to no one in particular. 

"I think I got one in my trunk," Harry informed the group. After rummaging around for a bit and leaving the potion with Neville to administer to Dean, the trio left the dorm room to check out the pre-ball party before Harry and Ron headed to Ravenclaw tower to pick up their dates. As Draco was passing the entrance to the girl's dormitory, Hermione cracked the door open and popped her head out. 

"Oh!" she gasped at the sight of her friends, "You all look very dashing." 

Harry and Ron didn't miss the way that Draco blushed at the compliment. They gave each other knowing looks before turning back to Hermione. 

"We were just heading down for the pre-party. Are you coming?" Ron asked.

Draco gave his friends a disapproving look, "Didn't we just discuss no drinking?" 

Ron waved him off, "We aren't going to go crazy. It's just a little liquid courage before heading to the Ravenclaw tower." 

"You should be careful. I have no idea what kind of alcohol the Seventh years put in that punch," Hermione cautioned, echoing Dean's earlier statement. 

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Hermione Granger. Not reporting a rule violation?"

She rolled her eyes at him, "Can't very well report something that the Prefects orchestrated, and Sir Cadogan very rudely informed me that I would not be a true Gryffindor if I ruined everyone's fun if I told McGonagall." 

Ron let out a short high-pitched whistle at the same time Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Sounds rough," the redhead said insincerely before dragging Harry down the stairs. 

"Idiots," she said under her breath before turning to Draco, "Can you actually come in here and help me?" 

Draco's eyes felt like they bugged out of his head for a moment before he awkwardly cleared his throat, "Um… love, that… wouldn't be… appropriate, exactly…." 

"Oh, stop being such a… boy for a second and get your head out of the gutter!" she admonished him before softening her tone, "No one is in here, and I'm dressed. I just… please?"  

Doing a double-take to make sure no one was watching him and forming an untoward opinion of himself or Hermione, Draco entered the room and softly shut the door behind him. Slowly, he turned around and found Hermione standing nervously next to her bed. The girl's dormitory was set up identically in size and shape to the boy's dormitory, except their privacy curtains and bedspreads were light pink instead of the Gryffindor red. But Draco couldn't care less about his surroundings, for his sole focus was on the beautiful witch in front of him. Hermione looked… extraordinary. Her periwinkle-blue chiffon dress fit her body perfectly. The long-tiered skirt flowed around her like a waterfall and sparkled like diamonds each time she moved. Needless to say, Draco's jaw dropped at the sight of her. 

"Wow," he said softly. Realizing he just gave an involuntary response, Draco internally winced before he sarcastically berated himself. 

Very articulate, Draco. That reaction will have her over the moon!  

Hermione flushed at the one-word compliment as she brought her hands up to fiddle with the sash tied around her waist nervously. "I feel so out of my element. Romilda did my hair, and Lavender was kind enough to do my makeup. I've never worn it before…" she trailed off.

As the Gryffindor girls got ready earlier that day, it became clear Hermione's look would be the most challenging owing to her lack of knowledge in style and beauty products. Romilda, being the 'benevolent' pureblood that she was, said it wouldn't do for Hermione to show up on the arms of one of the most eligible bachelors in the Wizarding World with how unruly her hair currently was. So went two hours of moisturizing, smoothing, and styling Hermione's wild curls until it resembled a formal up-do held together with star accented pins. While Hermione appreciated the effort Romilda, with the assistance of Melinda Bobbin, went through to get Hermione's hair to stay, the girl could have done it without the snide comments of how much Sleekeazy’s Hair Potion she had to use. Regardless, the curly hair maintenance and tips she received from the witches was an educational experience Hermione would never forget. 

Lavender had been kinder in her approach as she politely asked if she could do Hermione's eyeshadow. The request turned into priming and powdering Hermione's face before Lavender moved on to shaping and filling her eyebrows. Then, much to Hermione's chagrin, Lavender applied several different shades of eyeshadow that Hermione did not think would give her a natural look that she had requested. She started arguing with her dormmate when she saw the mascara brush come out, but Lavender assured her that she would be done after a few coats and promised not to apply eyeliner. Apparently, using too much would make her deep-set eyes look too small, and this was not the night for experimenting. When Lavender was done, Hermione could barely believe the image looking back at her in the mirror. She looked like a completely different person. In fact, Hermione was so stunned by how beautiful she was that she didn't even protest when Lavender finished the look by applying lipstick, which thankfully looked more like a sheen than a heavy stain of color on her lips. 

Hermione understood now why girls would spend so much time dolling themselves up in the morning. She felt drop-dead gorgeous and empowered by the new beauty that had encompassed her. When Hermione finally put her dress on and saw herself in the complete ensemble, she almost couldn't believe that she was in worn-out jeans and a jumper with tangled hair piled in a high bun just hours prior. She looked surreal and (dare she think it) a little sexy as she twirled in front of the mirror. Surely, this must have been how Cinderella felt when her godmother came and waved a magic wand over her charge, giving her the dress of her dreams. Hermione tried to picture how her night would go… dancing with Viktor and maybe stealing a moment or two with Draco. Thinking of her secret boyfriend suddenly wiped the smile from her face. Would Draco like her in this? Or would he get mad and jealous that she was so dressed up for Viktor Krum, whom the blond didn't know was gay, by the way. If Hermione was honest, the real reason Viktor probably approached their table was that the Seeker most likely had a crush on Draco and wanted to get closer to him. Noticing Hermione seemed to be warring with herself, Lavender trotted up to her and hit her with a slight hip-bump, causing the Gryffindor to laugh. 

"Men like to think we do all this for them, but really, this is for us," Lavender told her as she started to apply her own makeup. She flashed Hermione a saucy smile, "Remember this. We don't need their approval to own our inner goddess." 

Lavender's advice inspired Hermione to banish any remaining insecurity she had before asking Draco into her room. Taking a deep breath, she bravely brought her eyes up to meet his. "Do you like it?"

"I," Draco closed his mouth and cleared his throat, "I really want to kiss you right now." 

That seemed to be the right thing to say, for Hermione started laughing. She brought herself a little bit closer to Draco and flashed him a flirty smirk, "I might really want you to." 

Draco closed his eyes and leaned forward, anticipating the moment he met her soft lips with his own. He would never admit it aloud, but Draco had been thinking a lot about Hermione's lips, specifically how they taste. So, imagine his surprise when Hermione placed a single finger in between them, stopping his progression. 

"But first, I need you to help me put my grandmother's locket on," she said with a mischievous glint to her chocolate brown eyes. It took all her remaining self-control not to burst out laughing again. Draco's pout as he accepted the necklace was genuinely adorable. After Hermione turned around, she felt the ghost of Draco's touch as he secured the clasp of the old silver locket. It was given to Hermione shortly before her grandmother passed. She always admired it when she was a little girl, even though it wasn't anything notable. It was just a simple heart on a silver chain, but to Hermione's grandmother, it meant the world to the woman. It was given to her upon her engagement to Hermione's grandfather, and she used to tell Hermione that it held an extraordinary power all its own.  

When the person you are meant to love places this locket upon you, the heart will hum. That's how you know you found your soulmate, darling. 

Hermione never gave the belief much stock, so imagine her surprise when she felt an instant warmth fill her chest when the silver heart made contact with her skin. She never felt that way before when she put it on in the past. It was like being embraced in a warm hug or sitting in front of a fireplace on a cold winter's day with a minty hot chocolate. Or maybe it was similar to the feeling she got when she found a new book. Or when Draco would… 

Oh!

This had to be a coincidence, right? There was no way… but, could it be? Had her grandmother been telling the truth and not just weaving a romantic tale for her granddaughter? And yet, somehow in her shocked state, the only thing Hermione could bring herself to do was turn around and look up at Draco. 

"Can I kiss you now?" he asked, just barely loud enough for her to hear. 

Unable to speak, Hermione nodded and closed her eyes. She felt her breath catch in her throat the instant their lips met. Draco was just as hesitant as in the classroom a couple of weeks prior, but he found his confidence the longer their lips remained connected. The fact that he was just as nervous and didn't know exactly what he was doing either comforted Hermione as they continued their exploration. Hermione gasped, slightly parting her lips a little, when she felt Draco bring his left hand up to rest at the base of her neck, tilting Hermione's head up more. It felt like something out of a romance novel the way he held her. There was a building sense of anticipation to see what Draco was going to do next as she waited for his lips to descend back upon her own, but that feeling died the moment they both heard someone jiggle the doorknob. 

Like lightning, Draco jumped back from Hermione and pressed himself flat against the wall. His sudden movement caused Hermione to tumble into a sitting position on her bed as the door opened and revealed Parvati. 

"Oh, there you are, Hermione. Shouldn't you be heading downstairs soon?" the Gryffindor asked as she dug through her trunk. Draco used the distraction as an opportunity to sneak out the open door and pretend to wait on the staircase for Hermione. He didn't hear the rest of the conversation, but it was a short one as he watched Parvati hurry down the stairs not even a minute later. 

Letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding in, Hermione straightened her posture and closed the dormitory door behind her. She gave Draco a tentative smile, "That was close." 

"Too close," he agreed, "Don't get me wrong. I immensely enjoy kissing you, but…." 

"Parvati is one of the biggest gossips in the school," Hermione finished wryly. 

It was like looking into a mirror reflecting his own emotion. Neither of them was a fan of the secret relationship turn that their courting period had taken, but they understood at this point it was necessary. He reached forward and wrapped a hand gently around her wrist, finding her pulse point and giving it a soft rub, "Someday." 

The familiar action enticed that sense of safety and security that Hermione had come to associate with Draco. She couldn't help but widen her smile a bit more as she looked up at him. "I'm holding you to that promise, Draco Malfoy." 

Unable to form words, Draco let Hermione tug him out of Gryffindor Tower and down to the Great Hall to meet their dates. Draco descended the stairs first, having spotted Aurelie waiting with a group of Beauxbaton students. They were all wearing the same silky, pale blue garments (dress robes for the boys and thin-strapped dresses for the girls) with white gloves. It was sort of eerie to Draco that no student from the French school dared to dress in a different color except for Fleur, who was dressed in a silver gown.

How original, Draco sarcastically thought as he approached the group. 

"Ah! 'ello, Draco," Aurelie said with a societal smile while she held out her hand expectantly. 

"Aurelie," Draco returned her greeting by carefully holding her glove and placing a quick kiss on the back of her hand. He fought the urge to roll his eyes when he heard some of her friends giggle at the old-fashioned method. 

"Such a gentleman," Aurelie said with just a hint of competition in her tone as if she was bragging about having someone with manners and high class as her date. "Zis Fluer ready with 'er date?"

"Oui," one of the males in the group responded, "She and Roger Davies entered ze Entrance 'all moments ago." 

"Excellente!" Once it was confirmed their champion was in capable hands, the group chatted for a while about meaningless things regarding the holiday and the Winter Wonderland theme for the Ball. How his parents ever thought that a French accent was beautiful to listen to in broken English was beyond Draco's comprehension. It was taking all of his concentration to not snap at the self-centered imbeciles and correct them regarding misconceptions they had formed about the students of Hogwarts or Britain at large. Before long, Draco spotted Ron and Padma as the couple almost immediately made their way into the Great Hall. However, Aurelie shot down Draco's suggestion that they mingle with his friends before the start of the dancing, thus putting Draco into more of a sour mood. He then looked over at Harry and Luna, the sight making him exceptionally happy to see his cousin putting Harry at ease. She looked absolutely stunning in a midnight blue gown that had constellations twinkling periodically and shooting stars streaking across the skirt as she turned. 

"Champions! Please gather over here!" McGonagall called out before addressing the rest of the room, "And everyone else, please make your way inside for the formal opening ceremony of the Yule Ball!" 

"Come, Draco," Aurelie ordered as she hooked her arm through the crook of his elbow. When he saw that she was pulling him towards Theodore Nott's group of Slytherins, he switched directions and tried to guide her towards his Gryffindor friends. But Aurelie anticipated Draco's hesitation and pulled twice as hard to get him to comply with her demand. As soon as they approached the group, Aurelie smiled pleasantly and then cleared her throat for Draco to make formal introductions, even though Aurelie knew who everyone was. When Draco stayed silent, she huffed in irritation and greeted the group. 

"'ello! Zis so good to see you all!" 

No one said anything for a moment, making the silence between Draco and the Slytherins more tense than usual. Thank Merlin for Daphne, who had enough emotional intelligence to at least respond to the greeting.

"It has been a long time, Aurelie," she said with a tight-lipped smile.  

"Too long," Aurelie agreed, "I was 'oping Draco, and I could sit wiz you and… catch up!" 

The request caused Pansy to snort indignantly, "Good luck with that." 

Before Aurelie could ask, Theo chimed in with a biting tone, "Draco's a Gryffindor. He's too good for us now. Doesn't want to get caught sullying himself with the snakes."

Draco rolled his eyes, "I just don't keep company with those who are rude and demean others." 

"Reminding Blood Traitors and Mudbloods of their place is our right. Our responsibility," Pansy said sharply. 

"Well," Aurelie quickly cut in, sensing the growing hostility between the group. "Perhaps we can repair old ties." 

Draco raised an eyebrow at her. Either Aurelie was just plain stupid, or she was naïve enough to think that there was any hope of Draco and Theo rekindling their childhood friendship. He couldn't say more on the subject, for the trumpets sounded, and the Great Hall doors opened to reveal the champions marching in. The audience clapped for the procession as each Champion held tightly to their date. Almost immediately after finding their starting positions on the dance floor, the champions took hold of their partners, and the waltz's opening began. Draco felt a sense of pride as he first focused his attention on Harry and Luna. Though it was far from an elegant performance, Luna kept Harry grounded, and the two performed an acceptable rendition of the waltz. But as soon as Draco spotted Hermione, it was like the world disappeared around him. He didn't care about Fleur Delacour and Roger Davies. Or Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang. No, the entire epicenter of his attention was devoted to Hermione. She looked like a Duchess dancing next to the Bulgarian as they twirled around the floor. 

"Is… that Hermione Granger? With Viktor Krum?" Aurora Runcorn asked no one in particular as the Slytherin's stared in bewilderment. 

Draco gave each of them a pointed look, silently daring the Slytherins to make a comment about Hermione's blood status or say something equally as nasty, but it appeared they were so shocked that they had nothing to say about Hermione's beauty. Pleased with their silence, Draco returned his attention to the dance floor and continued to watch Hermione smile, laugh, and twirl about the room. Several other couples had joined in, filling in the floor a bit more around the starting couples. Draco shouldn't have been surprised when Aurelie abruptly "suggested" that he take her for a spin about the room. He agreed, but only because Draco had a plan. He had never been more thankful for the grueling dance lessons he had to endure growing up than right this very moment. They allowed him to artfully maneuver himself and his partner to the opposite side of the room to find himself next to Hermione and Viktor. When it came time to change partners, Aurelie spun into a random Durmstrang student while Hermione turned to find herself in Draco's arms. 

If it was possible, Hermione's smile widened even more as she breathlessly let out, "Hi." 

"Are you enjoying the evening so far?" Draco asked, not wanting to waste any time. They only had a few more steps before he would return to his original date. 

"Yes," she excitedly answered before she asked, "Are all Balls like this? I've never been to one before." 

No. They're nothing special. It's only because you're here. 

Draco wanted to say, but instead, he gave her a short nod before turning back, reluctantly, to take Aurelie into his arms. When the song came to a close, everyone clapped and then departed for the next group of students to take the floor for another formal dance. This one had most of the Durmstrang students on the floor as it was an Eastern European style waltz. Luckily, Draco got to sit this one out and happily watched Hermione gracefully move around the floor once again. After that number was complete, another transition was made for the French Galliard selected to honor the Beauxbaton students. Unfortunately, Draco was dragged onto the floor for this one, but it allowed Hermione to rest and watch Draco. 

She had never seen him dance before, but she had to say… Draco had never looked more attractive than he did right that very moment. He projected an air of confidence and sophistication with each step he took that reawakened Hermione's old Jane Austen fantasies. She didn't know if it was Draco's dancing alone or something else entirely that was causing her to draw comparisons from the Pureblood society etiquette to Regency Era customs. Maybe it was how all the men were dressed in their formal dress robes and the ladies in their evening wear to match? Or the music and décor? Godric, even some of the people in attendance fit the stereotypical "heir/heiress of a Lord and set to inherit a wealthy dynasty," titles that should make all the 'eligible' matches swoon. But Hermione never cared about Draco's family's status in the Wizarding World or the amount of gold in Gringotts. She only ever cared about Draco as a person… her friend! And… if magic or time were on their side, maybe they would have the chance to be something more one day. 

Shortly after the French dance ended, Dumbledore announced the beginning of the dinner and had everyone find their seats. Since Hermione was a date to one of the Champions, she was to dine with the head table, which hosted the Hogwarts staff and Ministry officials involved in the tournament. There was stiff conversation all around, for it appeared the Heads of the international schools were more concerned about competition and secrecy than actually fostering international cooperation. Still, Hermione enjoyed her meal for the most part. That was until she caught Draco's eye across the room. He looked like he was trying to send a silent plea of help to her, Harry, or maybe even Luna to come to rescue him from his date, but there was, unfortunately, nothing they could do for him. 

Draco had sat through many formal meals in his life, but this one was by far the most torturous of them all. Everyone around him was on edge, even with Aurelie's failed attempts to try and rekindle the past relationships. Pansy and Theo were shooting murderous looks across the table while Crabbe and Goyle took advantage of the thought-summoning plates. Whatever they wanted magically appeared before them on the table, which they used to call forth several dishes and desserts. Daphne shot them each a disgusted look, which she poorly hid behind her glass of Gilly Water. Aurora had a bored expression on her face and pointedly ignored everyone around her when they tried to engage her in conversation. Zacharias had taken someone from Durmstrang named Elena, who looked just as disagreeable as Smith, but Draco did not know her. They both were content not to speak to Draco. Blaise kept giving Draco curious glances between whispered conversations with his Beauxbaton date (Camile) further down the table. The blond didn't know what to make of the strange interaction, but he filed it away to speak to Hermione about it later, for the room was coming to attention by Professor Flitwick casting the Sonorus Charm. 

"Ladies and Gentleman! Can I have your attention, please?"

The Charms Professor emerged at the front of the room behind a smoke-like veil. Everyone was looking around, confused as he tried to quiet the crowd. 

"For the first time playing live here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry… Please welcome… the band that needs no introduction, The Weird Sisters!" 

Flitwick cast a couple of charms to dim the lights and dissipate the smoke curtain that hid the famous wizard rock band. Almost instantly, students were on their feet and running towards the stage as the lead singer started asking the crowd if they were ready to listen to some "real" music. Draco's smile returned as he recognized the guitar introduction to one of his favorite songs. 

"What zis?" Aurelie gasped. She looked horrified with the grunge-style clothing and loud base reverberating through the Hall. 

"Hogwarts got a rock band?! How exciting!" Daphne shouted over the music. She stood up and grabbed Aurora's hand so that they could join the crowd together. Draco was seriously thinking about getting up and following them when Hermione came running up in his peripheral vision. 

"We have to get on the floor!" Hermione shouted with a significant smile, "It's your favorite!" 

"I couldn't agree more, love," Draco replied. He was a little annoyed that Viktor had followed her, but not so much that he wasn't going to turn down this attempt of a rescue from the snake pit. 

"Draco! Where are you going?" Aurelie protested, "Zis highly inappropriate!" 

"Dancing," he said over his shoulder, not sparing the French girl a second glance.

"What?! No! Stop zis instant!" Aurelie shouted at him.

Draco instantly turned and glared at her, "Look, the only reason why I came with you was because I had to. But, I'm not going to let you ruin the rest of my night. You have been insufferable and trying to make me something that I am not. Consider this your exit for the evening." With his words hanging in the air between them, Draco took Hermione's hand and started dancing. He ignored Aurelie's tantrum, for he didn't care that he was basically abandoning his date. Draco figured he paid his dues, and now he was determined to spend the rest of the evening with the one person he wanted. 

Somehow Luna had convinced Harry, Ron, and Padma to join them, so together, they danced through the first song. They couldn't hear one another other the loud music, but that didn't stop the laughing and crazy moves the friends were performing. It was freeing just being together and acting like teenagers instead of worrying about the what-ifs of life. Draco didn't have to think about his father's ramblings from over the summer or the events of the World Cup. He didn't need to worry about the rumors from the Slytherins or anything else the future may hold. For tonight, he was just an average teenager trying to have a good time with his secret girlfriend and best friends. 

After a few more songs had finished, Ron and Harry decided to get some air, leaving Luna and Padma to continue dancing with them. Just as a slower tune was about to come on, Karkaroff came over and told Krum that the evening was over for him as he needed to rest before his workout tomorrow. Like a pureblooded aristocrat, Viktor kissed the back of Hermione's hand before he apologized and left them on the floor.

Hermione was slightly sad that Viktor had to call it a night so early, but Draco couldn't quite keep the smirk off his face as he realized that he had Hermione all to himself for the rest of the night. Giddy with the thought of getting to dance with Hermione, uninterrupted, he tapped her on the shoulder. She twirled around to find Draco's outstretched hand waiting for her. 

"Dance with me?" he asked. 

Hermione slowly slipped her hand into his and let Draco pull her in closer. "How could I refuse?" 

Her body was firmly pressed against his as they swayed in one place to the slowed beat. She could feel a heat radiating off of him like the warmth from the fireplace in the Gryffindor Common Room, causing her to lean further and rest her head on his shoulder. 

As Draco tightened the arm resting around her waist, he tilted his head down so that he could whisper in her ear, "I should have gone to the Ball with you." 

Hermione didn't respond right away as she just pressed herself closer to him, dreading when she would have to let go. She appreciated the confession. Honestly, she did. But thinking about what should have happened wouldn't change the past. And it's not like she had the TimeTurner anymore, so she really couldn't go back and tinker with the timeline. Again. All she wanted to do was stay in Draco's arms for the rest of the night. As the song ended, Hermione raised her head to look Draco in his beautiful grey eyes, "Let's just take the moments we can get and enjoy them." 

And so they did. 

Chapter Text

The month following the Yule Ball was beyond stressful as Hermione and Draco tried to decipher the Runes along the side of the egg. It didn't matter how many runic texts they consulted. Each new tome they looked through did not match up, setting them back to square one. With the second task only two weeks away, Hermione and Draco were getting desperate. 

"I'm seriously thinking about stealing Harry's invisibility cloak and sneaking into the Restricted Section if this doesn't work," she grumbled as she slammed the textbook down on the table. 

Draco jumped back, startled by her aggression, before smirking at her. "You know, I think technically it would just be borrowing. No need to escalate your hypothetical transgression to a crime."

Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes, "Thank you for my defense, Solicitor Malfoy. I'm sure if I commit murder, you will find a technicality to get me off." 

Draco clucked his tongue at her, "Someone is snarky today. Any reason why?"

"Other than I feel like I'm failing Harry, and this is the last runic textbook in the regular section of the library?" 

"Hey," Draco said, reaching out to grab her hand, "You are doing the best you can. We can figure this out." 

"We're running out of time," Hermione said under her breath. 

"But we aren't out of it yet," Draco replied, giving her hand a quick squeeze before turning his attention back to his essay, "besides, it's stupid that they keep the NEWT level materials in the Restricted Section." 

Hermione's eyes widened as she threw her hands up in the air, "Exactly! First off, how many non-NEWT level students actually study ahead on the material?" 

"Not many," Draco agreed. 

"And exactly what do the Professors think we are going to do with this knowledge?" Hermione asked, "Perform some magical ritual that is irreversible?"

"Maybe," Draco answered in a placating tone before he shot her his signature smirk, "Are you saying you aren't the tiny bit curious about performing a sex ritual?"

Hermione huffed, "Honestly…." She looked down at the book in front of her, trying to hide the blush that was forming across her cheeks, "What are we going to do if we can't figure this out?" 

"That's not an option, Hermione. We will solve it," Draco reassured her. He was content to ignore how flustered the topic made her for the time being but made a mental note to revisit the ritual talk in the future. 

After reading for a few hours, Hermione shut the book and groaned, "It didn't work! It's all gibberish!" 

"Shh!" a Hufflepuff nearby their table chastised her. 

Hermione shot the older student a dirty look before turning back to Draco. "I wasn't joking about the cloak." 

Draco had just finished packing up his bag and rose from the table, "I know. Let's go find Harry and Ron and update them." 

"Alright," Hermione reluctantly admitted as she followed Draco out of the Library. They were making their way up the staircase when Draco stopped her. Someone was arguing in a corridor on the fifth floor. 

"This way," Draco whispered as he led Hermione to hide in a nook not far from the voices. 

"… and I told you, Pansy! I need something on Potter, not the half-giant freak teaching your Care of Magical Creatures class!" 

Draco and Hermione shared a look of disbelief. She mouthed to Draco Rita Skeeter's name before they returned to listening to the conversation. 

"Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but there hasn't been anything new on Potty!" Pansy argued. 

"There's always something," Rita retorted viciously, "Have I not taught you anything?" 

"Aunt Rita…" 

"Don't you 'Aunt Rita' me, girl! I don't want to hear your excuses. Try harder!" Rita spat. 

Draco and Hermione silently peered around the corner and gaped at the journalist as she disappeared before their eyes. They both reeled back and pressed their backs up against the stone wall. 

They didn't move or make a sound when they heard Pansy muttering, "I hate when she transforms into her beetle form." 

The two Gryffindors held their breath as they waited for Pansy's steps to fade. When they could no longer hear the Slytherin girl, Draco and Hermione emerged from around the corner to investigate the hallway. 

"How did Rita disappear like that? I thought no one could apparate inside the school wards?" Draco asked as his gaze darted around frantically looking for Rita Skeeter. 

"She didn't," Hermione intoned, causing Draco to stop and raise an eyebrow at her. Chewing on her bottom lip, Hermione carefully reached into her bag and pulled out a muggle pen. Her eyes were locked on a rather sizable green bug resting on the side of the wall. 

"Hermione…" Draco drawled as he watched her wordlessly transfigure the muggle writing utensil into a mason jar with a lid. 

"Listen very carefully, Draco. I want you to fire a Flipindo in that spot when I tell you. Can you do that?" Hermione asked in a calm tone. 

"Yes," Draco answered, raising his wand. 

Hermione unscrewed the jar, "Three… two… one… Now!" 

Once the blue bolt left the tip of Draco's wand, Hermione sprung into action and caught the green June Beetle. With a smug look on her face, she quickly screwed the lid shut on the panic-stricken insect flying about and failing to escape its new glass prison.  

Draco stared at her with a look of confusion, "So, are you going to tell me why you insisted on catching this bug? I don't think Snape asked for any beetle parts for our next lesson."

Hermione laughed, "Oh, Draco. Don't you see? This isn't just an ordinary beetle. This… just so happens to be the Animagus form of none other than Rita Skeeter." 

His eyes widened, "You mean…."

"Yep!" Hermione said, popping the p at the end. 

"That's how she has been getting all her information!" Draco exclaimed, "How she suddenly vanished! I mean, she didn't vanish. She just transformed, but still. Hermione, you are bloody brilliant!" 

Hermione smirked at him, "So you've said." She glared at the journalist trapped inside the jar, "I think Miss Skeeter is going to take an extended holiday and… reconnect with nature, so to speak."

Draco's jaw dropped when he watched her perform a spell, rendering the jar unbreakable before she confidentially strolled back to Gryffindor Tower. He didn't think he could find himself more attracted to Hermione than he did at that moment as he followed her in a dream-like daze. 

_______________

"I did it! I finally figured out the clue!" Harry exclaimed to his friends at lunch the next day. 

"What?" Ron questioned as he shot up from his plate with food hanging out of his mouth. 

Hermione grimaced, "Attractive, Ronald." 

The redhead loudly slurped his noodles into his mouth, "Sorry."

Draco ignored him and turned to Harry, "What is it?" 

Harry smiled at his three best friends before he lowered his voice, "The reason why I couldn't hear the clue before. It needed to be submerged." 

"In what?" Ron gasped. 

"Water. The clue was a song by the merpeople colony in the Black Lake, or I guess it's more like a riddle, I suppose," Harry explained. 

"I'm sorry," Draco cut in, "Did you just say the Black Lake?"

"Hogwarts has merpeople?" Hermione blurted out. 

"Mate, where did you find a bath? The only bathroom that students have access to would be the Prefect's bath," Ron asked. Everyone stared at the redhead with incredulous looks, causing Ron to raise his hands in a defensive position. 

Harry gave him a chuckle, "Now that we know where Ron's priorities are… Cedric may or may not have let me in…." 

Draco raised an eyebrow at his friend. He knew that Harry had helped Cedric out by tipping off the Hufflepuff about the first task, but had that all this had been? Was the older student simply repaying the favor which was owed? Or did Cedric have other motives? Draco had observed how his friend would longingly stare at Cedric. He was about to voice his concern that Harry was letting his feelings cloud his judgment about Diggory, but stopped when Hermione asked a question. 

"What did the clue say? Maybe we can use logic to figure it out." 

Harry reached into his bag and pulled out a piece of parchment. The three Gryffindor's leaned forward to read the clue that Harry recorded. 

Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing above the ground.

And while you're searching, ponder this:

We've taken what you'll sorely miss.

An hour long you'll have to look,

To recover what we took.

But past an hour, you've lost track,

Too late, it's gone and won't come back.

Hermione and Draco read the passage a few more times before looking up at Harry. 

Ron let out a whistle, "Bloody hell! That sounds rough." 

"And we have 13 days to figure it out," Hermione added bitterly. 

___________________

Thirteen days sounded like enough time to decipher the clue… until it wasn't. The golden quartet had been spending as much time as possible in the Library, to the point that they would skip meals and, occasionally, classes. On their fourth night doing this, Draco figured out how to call for Dobby, which the friendly elf happily helped them out and brought them all something to eat. Hermione mainly focused on the history of the merpeople and the Black Lake itself but alternated between researching useful spells that could be used underwater. Harry studied seafloor maps to get an idea of where the colony was located. Draco was reading about the herbology of the Black Lake, and Ron was organizing creatures and possible threats Harry could encounter. The general idea behind dividing and conquering in this manner was that one of them was bound to come across something that would allow Harry to breathe underwater for an hour. But so far, they had been unsuccessful. They couldn't find a charm without getting into the Restricted Section, and due to the stupid rule of 'no outside help,' none of the Professors could write them a note to allow them entry if it was for the Tournament. They hadn't studied Human Transfiguration yet, so Harry transforming into an aquatic creature was a no-go. Besides, Hermione quickly shot the idea down due to the potential risks involved. It was now the night before the second task. Everyone was on edge and tired when Hermione suddenly snapped at Harry and Ron for falling asleep.  

"Are you even trying to figure out the egg?" 

Ron instantly stopped snoring while Draco popped his head around the corner with a shocked expression. He held his breath as he watched Harry roll his head to the side to glare at Hermione, "What's that supposed to me?" 

Hermione winced at Harry's harsh tone, "Sorry… I just mean that these tasks are designed to test you, Harry, and in a way that's almost cruel." 

Thank Merlin Harry's face softened a bit before he sat up and apologized. Though Draco was prepared to step in should a confrontation occur, he didn't want his friends fighting. He just simply didn't have the energy to mediate tonight. 

"I'm just trying to say… Harry, I'm scared for you," Hermione whispered. 

"We all are, mate," Draco added as Ron nodded along with him. 

Seeing the concerned expressions on his friends' faces, Harry let out a deep breath, "I don't think I'm going to pass this time. I got by the dragon on pure nerve, but this…." 

"It's not impossible," Draco said, trying to reassure him. 

"Harry, reread the clue," Hermione ordered. She stood up and started pacing the stacks, looking for a new book. 

"Come seek us where our voices sound," Harry recited in a tired voice. 

"The Black Lake, that's obvious," Hermione said, "Keep going." 

"We cannot sing above the ground," Harry continued.

"Which we know refers to the merpeople. They have gills which pull oxygen from the water, not the air, meaning they can't breathe over the water's surface," Ron explained. Draco gave his friend a look of disbelief before the redhead smacked him in the arm, "Oi! I pay attention in Care of Magical Creatures." 

"But we haven't covered mer-life yet," Draco reminded him. 

Ron bristled a bit before muttering, "I like creature books. So…. I read ahead." 

"Do my ears deceive me, or did Ronald Weasley just admit to reading an actual textbook that wasn't for class?" Draco teased, earning him a smack in the head from Hermione. 

"As proud as I am of Ron doing outside research, now isn't the time!" she chastised before turning back to Harry, "Please, continue." 

"And while you're searching, ponder this. We've taken something you'll sorely miss," Harry said. 

"So, you have to find something that the merpeople have taken," Ron theorized, "But… what is it and how can they take it if they can't come above water?" 

"Most likely Bagman or someone else from the Ministry would give it to the merpeople," Draco explained. "Honestly, I'm surprised the merpeople would cooperate."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. 

"Well, magical creatures, especially ones considered to be intelligent, don't exactly get along with the Ministry. The government or interest groups introduce loads of legislation to limit creature rights and often take away protected land from them." 

"That's horrible," Hermione cried out, "But now that you say that, I think I saw something the other day in the Daily Prophet that was talking about that! It was a new bill that Mr. Diggory was trying to block which would decrease the amount of land Centaur's could herd."

Ron nodded, "Yep. It's not a new fight, Hermione. And believe it or not, poor Amos has been doing it for years!"   

"But why do wizards and witches need the land?" Hermione asked. 

"Most of it is so Potioners can gather more ingredients without causing a political or legal scandal," Draco explained. 

"But the merpeople in the Black Lake are protected," Hermione stated before her brows furrowed, "Right?"

"True, but that doesn't mean other colonies are," Draco retorted. He concealed his smirk when he saw a passionate fire begin to light behind her chocolate brown eyes. It was like he could see the wheels in her head turning with thousands of questions she was trying to find solutions for. 

"Okay, you two. Stop right there. I'm sure you could talk about this all night, but we need to move on to the next part of the clue," Ron cut in before gesturing to Harry to go on. 

"An hour long you'll have to look to recover what we took."  

"Again, obvious. Though, admittedly, potentially problematic," Hermione responded. 

"Potentially Problematic?" Harry repeated back, "When was the last time you held your breath underwater for an hour, Hermione?" He quipped. 

Nobody knew what to say to Harry when they heard the familiar tap. Tap. Taping of Moody's prosthetic leg on the stone floor. 

"Hate to break up the skull session, but Professor McGonagall would like to see you in her office," he informed them gruffly. "Not you two, just Weasley and Malfoy," he pointed at Ron and Draco. 

"But, sir! The second task is only hours away, and…." Hermione tried to argue, but Moody cut her off. 

"Exactly. Presumable Potter is well prepared by now; you can assure that he will get a good night's sleep." He then turned to Ron and Draco, "Go. Now!" 

Hermione and Harry started packing up books as Moody walked past them. They flinched when they heard Moody shout for Neville to help them put their materials away before he disappeared amongst the stacks. 

"Hey," Neville said, coming around the corner. He picked up one of Ron's creature books and set it up into the air. The book levitated for a moment before flying back to its proper shelf. 

"Hi, Neville," Harry and Hermione said at the same time. 

The three remained silent for a moment before Neville picked up one of the Herbology textbooks that Draco had been reviewing, "Oh! I didn't know you and Harry were interested in plants! You know, you'd be better off with Goshawk's Guide to Herbology. He wrote about this wizard in Nepal who's growing gravity-resistant trees, and they…" 

"Neville," Harry interrupted abruptly, stopping his housemate in his tracks, "No offense, but I really don't care about plants. Now, if there's… a Tibetan turnip that will allow me to breathe underwater for an hour, then great! But otherwise…" 

"I don't know about a turnip. But you could use Gillyweed!"

"I'm sorry, what?" Hermione asked. 

"Gillyweed. It's a plant native to the Mediterranean, but when you consume it, it allows you to grow gills and breathe underwater," Neville explained. 

Hermione's eyes widened, "Fantastic. Where do we get it?" 

"Um… well…" Neville trailed off. 

Harry's shoulders dropped. Even if he had a solution that would allow him to compete in the second task, there was no way to get it on time. The three finished putting away the books before they made the trek back to the Gryffindor Tower. As Harry said the password, Neville turned around to face him. 

"I'm sorry, Harry. I just wanted to help." 

"It's alright. Thanks, Neville," Harry said kindly. He about stepped through the portrait hole when he noticed Hermione wasn't following him. 

"You coming, Hermione?" He asked. Harry raised an eyebrow when he saw her staring down at the ground with an intense look of concentration on her face. 

"Do you think Gillyweed is something Snape would have in his private cupboard?" she whispered. 

Harry blinked at her, "What?"

She looked up at him with a determined expression, "Do you think Snape would have Gillyweed?" 

"I… maybe… Hermione, what are you thinking," Harry lowered his voice. 

"Can I borrow your cloak?" she asked suddenly. 

"Sure… Hermione… What…" Harry struggled to articulate his question when Hermione shook her head. 

"The less you know, Harry, the better," she said cryptically. "I'll wait." 

With the dismissal, Harry quickly stepped through into the Common Room. He reemerged a minute later with his father's invisibility cloak. Before he handed it to Hermione, he said, "Please don't get caught. I don't want you getting expelled for me." 

"That's the general idea," Hermione quipped as she disappeared under the cloak. 

"Wait, take the map too!" Harry pleaded before he thrust the Marauder's Map that Fred and George Weasley gave him last year in Hermione's proximity.  

"Thanks, Harry," she said, reaching out to grab the old parchment. 

Her heart was pounding, and her hands were shaky as she made her way down to Snape's office. She was relieved that the Prefects were finishing up their patrols, which would make her ascent back to the Gryffindor Tower easier. But the thought didn't quell her worries about how she would break into the Potion's Master's personal stores. Draco had done this in their second year when they needed ingredients for the Polyjuice Potion. She didn't know what kind of wards or locking mechanisms that Snape would have.

Guess I will just have to figure it out when I get there. 

Hermione was trying so hard not to let the guilt and adrenaline mixing in her stomach trip her up. She had never broken a rule of this magnitude before. She had to keep reminding herself that Harry needed the Gillyweed so that he could succeed. Without it, he wouldn't be able to recover the lost object from the Black Lake. She didn't want to think what the last part of the riddle meant if that were the case, so she just kept praying to Merlin and Morgana that Snape had this magical plant on hand for her to steal. 

Not steal, borrow. 

Thinking of how Draco phrased her actions a few weeks ago brought a small smile to her face as she approached the door to Snape's office. She ran a preliminary diagnostic, which revealed that a locking charm only guarded the entrance. 

Easy enough

She wordlessly cast an Alohamora, causing the door to unlatch and swing towards her. Hermione quickly stepped in and quietly shut the door behind her. Dropping the cloak, she immediately started scanning the shelves in search of the magical weed. Thankfully, Snape was meticulous and had the closet beautifully organized in alphabetical order. As soon as she found the "G" section, she immediately recognized her Professor's scrawl and quickly identified the correct vial. The was only one problem. It was too high for her to reach. 

Hermione raised her wand and quietly called out, "Accio, Gillyweed." 

She looked stunned for a moment as the vial easily flew down and landed in her free hand. Smiling to herself for only a moment, Hermione gathered her wits and threw the cloak back over herself. She froze when she heard the handle jiggle, and the door suddenly swung open. Standing before her, eyeing the contents of the closet, was Professor Moody. 

By some miracle, Hermione didn't make a sound when she shuffled out of the way. There was just barely enough room for the Professor to walk by as she pressed herself up against the far wall. She watched the man pulling ingredients off the shelves with interest and noted all the things he grabbed as she silently slipped out of the cupboard. 

Knotgrass

Lacewing flies 

Leeches

Powdered horn of a bicorn

Hermione pulled the cloak tighter around herself and focused on trying to get away from Moody as quietly but as fast as possible. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the gems on her bracelet were half red and half periwinkle, the color fading back to normal with the more space she put between the Professor and herself. Her lungs were screaming for air, for she felt like she had held her breath all the way back to the Gryffindor Tower. Hermione didn't dare pull the cloak off until she stood directly in front of The Fat Lady. 

"Mimbulus mimbletonia," she gasped out, prompting the painted woman to swing open. She practically collapsed on the couch next to Harry before holding out the vial to him. 

Harry's eyes widened, and his jaw dropped, "You got it!?" 

Hermione nodded, still trying to catch her breath, "I got it." 

Harry held the vial up and started laughing, "You are absolutely brilliant, Hermione Granger!" 

Hermione couldn't help the small smile that formed across her face at the compliment, "Thanks, Harry. Did you happen to ask Neville when you are supposed to eat it?" 

"Yeah, he said right before I jump in the water," Harry answered, still eyeing the grey-green plant inside the glass. 

"Good," Hermione paused for a moment looking around the room. She wiped her sweaty hands on her jeans before she turned back to Harry, "Where are Draco and Ron?"

"Don't know," Harry shrugged his shoulders. "They aren't upstairs, and no one has seen them since they left the Library." 

"I ran into someone in the closet that I wanted to tell all of you about," she said, still looking around the Common Room. 

Harry's face dropped as he suddenly looked concerned, "Did you get caught?" 

"No," Hermione corrected, "Nothing like that. I… after I got into Snape's cupboard, Professor Moody walked in. He… Harry… he was stealing Potion's ingredients." 

"Why would he do that? What did he take?" Harry questioned. 

"They… I think he was trying to make Polyjuice Potion," Hermione stated. 

"Hermione… that… doesn't make any sense. Maybe it's a misunderstanding? I know he hasn't exactly been kind to you or Draco, but to accuse him of theft, that's…." 

"It's what I saw, Harry," Hermione retorted in a quiet voice. 

"Maybe we should talk about this after the second task," Harry suggested before he let out a loud yawn. 

Hermione nodded, "Yeah, it's late. You should be resting." 

With that, the two friends retired to their respective dormitories. However, sleep did not come to Hermione as her body was still in a "flight or fight" mode and would not settle down. Plus, her mind was reeling as her brain tried to piece together what she saw down in the dungeons with facts she already knew about the Defense Professor. It was obvious since day one he was unhinged but now her bracelet keeps deeming him a threat every time she gets close to him. Regardless of what Harry thought, Hermione knew what she saw. Moody was stealing from Snape’s supplies and they were the ingredients specifically for Polyjuice Potion.

But why is Professor Moody brewing Polyjuice Potion? 

That was the last thought she had as she finally drifted off into a restless sleep. 

_______________________

The following day, Hermione had to make her way down to breakfast by herself. She knew Harry would be dining with the Ministry Officials and the other champions somewhere off-site, but that didn't account for Draco's or Ron's absence. She was confused last night when they hadn't returned from Professor McGonagall's office, but when Dean Thomas told her this morning that they never came back… she began to panic. 

Hermione couldn't think of a valid academic reason, nor could she come up with an excuse that would have warranted the two for being in trouble. Was it possibly something to do with the Tournament? 

"Hermione, would you like to walk with us to the boats?" Lavender asked, startling Hermione out of her thoughts. 

"Oh, um… sure," Hermione stuttered. She felt like a ghost following the Gryffindor girls down the stone path and across the lake to the three large overwater observation towers that were put in place for the spectators. Her boat arrived at the center tower, allowing Hermione to wave at Sirius, Remus, and Harry as she walked up the steps to one of the landings. Hermione had just leaned against the railing when Ludo Bagman's annoying voice took over the speaker. 

"Good morning! And welcome to the second task! Last night, something, or rather someone, was stolen from each of our champions. These treasures of sorts now lie at the bottom of the Black Lake. In order to win, each contestant need only find their treasure and return to the surface before the hour is up. Though we won't be able to see the action below, each spectator can monitor the time using the large clock levitating just over yonder." 

Bagman paused for a moment to confirm the time before clearing his throat, "Champions, you may begin at the sound of the cannon." 

Hermione jumped when the loud bang echoed through the valley. She watched as all four of the Tournament's participants dove into the lake. It was a chilly February morning with the wind blowing fiercely, so she could only imagine how cold the water must have felt. Hermione stared at the rippling surface for a few moments as she tried to process what Bagman had said. 

Last night, something, or rather someone…

Someone. Someone. SOMEONE. 

"Hermione, are you alright?" Parvati asked, gently patting her on the back. 

"They petrified people and put them at the bottom of the Black Lake?" Hermione gasped out. Had the Ministry been thinking at all when they designed these tasks? First, they smuggled dragons into the country, and now this? They were trusting the lives of innocent people in the care and service of the merpeople, a species that had a tumultuous history with the Wizarding World. 

"I'm sorry, what?" Lavender asked, clearly not making the same connections Hermione was. 

Before the Gryffindor could clarify, all three of their heads snapped up at the sound of a high-pitched cruel laugh. Pansy Parkinson was standing not too far from Hermione and peering imperiously at her. 

"Don't tell me. The 'brightest witch of our age' couldn't figure out the second task until now? Oh, this is rich!" 

"Sod off, Pansy," Hermione spat. 

"Honestly, I'm surprised Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy allowed Draco to participate. Their only heir being held hostage by half-breeds?" Pansy said in a mocking voice before she sized up Hermione, "Though, given the company he keeps... Draco probably feels right at home." She faked a shudder, causing Millicent and Tracy to laugh with her.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked in a deadly tone. 

Pansy scowled, "Don't you know? Krum's 'something dear' that he has to rescue is Draco." 

Hermione didn't have to hear any more from the pug-faced witch. She ran up the stairs to the top tier of the tower, looking for Professor Dumbledore and the Ministry Officials in charge of the Tournament. 

"Oh, my! The Beauxbatons champion, Miss Delacour, has unfortunately been forced to retire due to a Grindylow attack. She attempted to use the Bubble-head charm," Bagman announced, causing Hermione to stop in her tracks. "I can already hear the moaning of bets lost. She really was quite a favorite… But again, not to worry! We have the best medical staff standing by!" 

Hermione's breath came fast when she resumed her assent. She quickened her pace, thinking only that she had to get to Dumbledore and stop this madness somehow. It was one thing to have the champions, who willingly (Harry aside) put their name in the Goblet, participate in deadly challenges. But Draco and Ron were innocent! They didn't ask to be part of this, and neither did the other people currently floating at the bottom of the lake! Was the Ministry not at all concerned with safety? How were they ensuring the merpeople did, in fact, return which was taken if not successfully retrieved? The clue literally said if one failed, the object wouldn't come back. 

No. 

No, no… She couldn't think like that! Hermione had to stay focused. Draco would need her to stay sharp, just in case… 

As soon as Hermione exited the stairs, she frantically scanned the area before finding Mr. Crouch talking with Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, Sirius, Remus, and… the Malfoys? The sight made her pause for a moment, for she had not been prepared to see both Lucius and Narcissa mingling during the second task.  

Spotting Hermione first, Remus looked at her with concern, "Hermione, dear. Are you alright?"

She ignored her former Professor and stalked right up to Mr. Crouch, "What happens if one of the champions fails to retrieve their person?"

Crouch looked affronted for a moment before regaining his composure. He gave Hermione a politician-like smile and chuckled, "Silly girl. Nothing bad is going to happen to the champions." 

"I'm talking about the people you petrified and shoved at the bottom of the Black Lake," Hermione bit out. 

"Miss Granger," Professor McGonagall chastised her, but for once, Hermione found herself not affected by the stern tone of her Head of House. 

The fake smile dropped from Crouch's face, "Now, see here. Each one of the participants agreed to the terms, and the spell is perfectly safe." 

"Yet, you keep avoiding my question, Mr. Crouch," Hermione challenged, "So, I'll ask again. What happens to those participants once the hour is up and they are not retrieved." 

"All participants are perfectly safe, Miss Granger," Mr. Bagman chimed in with a slightly shaky voice. 

"Then why are there Aurors and Magical Creature experts standing by in canoes?" Hermione asked the official. 

"I… uh… how did you… Crouch, you want to take this question? I have to go back to watching the water," Bagman stuttered. He pulled out a handkerchief and started to dab at the sweat that had formed across his brow.  

When none of the adults had anything to say to Hermione's observation, she continued, "I'm not a fool, Mr. Crouch, and I've spent the past two weeks researching the history between the Wizarding Community and the merpeople. Did you know the Ministry still hasn't installed the waste filtration system that it specifically promised in an 1856 treaty to the colony here in the Black Lake?" 

"Is this true, Crouch?" Lucius Malfoy asked, cutting through the tension. 

Crouch's mouth formed in a thin line. He looked ready to snap at Hermione for telling the truth, but she pressed forward with her theory, "And I wouldn't put it past the leader of the merpeople to hold one of the 'treasures' as hostages for real. Take Miss Delacour, for example. I'd hate to think about the international crisis that could happen should you not be able to get her little sister back to the surface. Safe and sound." 

"Is that a threat, Miss Granger?" Crouch asked in a low tone.

"It's an observation, Mr. Crouch," Hermione replied as Sirius tried to pull her back. 

"Hermione, perhaps we should go down to the main dock and wait for Harry to emerge," Remus suggested. 

As Harry's guardians guided her off the top platform, she couldn't help but smirk as she listened to Narcissa threaten Mr. Crouch with every jinx and hex imaginable should Draco be harmed due to an oversight in the risk assessment by the Tournament Committee. She didn't get to see the impressed look that was subtly displayed on Mr. Malfoy's face as he watched her exit down the stairs.  

Once they were on the tier directly above the water, Remus looked up at the clock. "The champions have about 15 minutes left. Hopefully, they will be emerging soon." 

Hermione started fiddling with her bracelet as she waited with bated breath. Time ticked by slowly as the minutes counted down. 

Ten minutes 

Seven minutes 

Five minutes

Three minutes

At two minutes until the hour, Cedric Diggory emerged from the depths of the Black Lake first with a sputtering Cho Chang next to him. She was dressed in her Ravenclaw school uniform and had a dazed look on her face as she tried to take in her surroundings. Hermione's attention was drawn off the Ravenclaw and back on the water when she heard aggressive cheering from the Durmstrang party. A sudden wave of exhaustion overtook her when she saw Draco was pulled forward, safe and unharmed. The relief she felt was so palpable that her body physically gave out, causing her to slump up against one of the poles. Krum had used a human transfiguration spell to turn his head into that of a shark. The magic had worn off by the time they made it to the docks, returning him to his complete human form. 

The Durmstrang champion gave Hermione a brief nod as he passed her and was embraced by his schoolmates. Hermione barely returned the gesture before grabbing three towels and running over to help Draco out of the water. She gasped when she saw that his skin was so pale it almost looked translucent. He was also dressed in his school uniform and had the same dazed look as Cho when she first came to the surface. As soon as he was out of the water, he started to shiver violently from the cold wind hitting his wet skin.  

"Oh, Merlin! You must be freezing," Hermione moaned as she quickly wrapped Draco in the towels. 

"I'm fine. Hermione, I'm alright… Hermione," Draco's teeth chattered a bit, but he was able to stop her from fussing over him for a moment. He reached up and moved a stray curl away from her face, "I'm okay. Nothing bad happened to me." 

Hermione launched herself at him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders in a tight embrace. He returned the gesture as best he could while still holding the towels in place to keep warm. 

"I was so worried," she whispered in his ear. 

"I'm sorry," he replied, "Once Ron and I were in McGonagall's office, we were practically sworn to secrecy and couldn't leave. Once we changed into our uniforms, Dumbledore cast the stasis charm on us immediately. I don't remember much other than it felt like going into a deep sleep." 

Hermione pulled back and pushed his damp hair out of his face, "I understand. I just…" 

She didn't finish the thought as the two became distracted by two more bodies emerging. Hermione and Draco smiled when they saw Ron and Fleur's little sister swim over to the edge together. 

"Gabrielle!" Fleur cried out in relief. She pulled her sister out of the water while muttering something fast in French. Ron didn't need any help getting on the dock, but he almost stumbled back into the Lake when Fleur attacked him with grateful kisses on his cheeks. Hermione and Draco hid their laughter at Ron's furiously red blush as their friend took a seat next to them. 

"Bloody Hell, Weasley," Draco teased. 

"Merci," Ron said in a dreamy voice, causing Draco and Hermione to laugh louder at the redhead. 

The large clock floating above the lake chimed, indicating the hour to rescue the person stolen from the champions was up. Everyone was present and accounted for… except for Harry. 

"He's coming, right?" Draco asked in a concerned voice. 

"Come on, pup. No time for games," Sirius said to no one in particular. There was an edge to his voice that had made Draco worry for his friend's safety grow more. 

Everyone in the audience held their attention on the rippling water in anticipation when Harry made a sudden appearance. He splashed several spectators as he vaulted himself out of the lake and onto the dock. Draco, Hermione, and Ron moved like lightning, helping Harry get the water out of his lungs and wrapping him in dry towels. Harry had some scars and marks on him from a Grindylow, but other than that, he was mostly alright. The four Gryffindors looked at one another for a moment before they laughed and came together into a group hug. 

"Well done, Harry!" Hermione cried out as the group dispersed. 

"Hermione…" Harry coughed after he embraced Sirius and Remus, "I finished last." 

"Next to last technically," Ron corrected him, "Fleur never saved Gabrielle. You did." 

"That could affect the score," Draco encouraged when the speaker system came to life. 

"Your attention, everyone!" Bagman's voice rang out through the crowd, "The winner of the second task is… Mr. Diggory!" 

Bagman paused to allow the audience to cheer and applause for a moment before he continued. "The Hogwarts champion showed innate command of the Bubble-head charm. What a comeback! Now… Oh, this is quite the surprise. It seems the judges have determined that Mr. Potter would have finished first had it not been for his determination to rescue not only Mr. Weasley but the others as well. They have agreed to award him second place!"

Many others in the crowd were cheering while some were booing for the decision. Bagman was not at all phased by the disruption as he continued. 

"Such outstanding moral fiber from that one, and quite ingenious too with his use of Gillyweed! Now, that leaves Mr. Krum in third using a Human Transfiguration spell and Miss Delacour in last. Thank you, everyone, for coming to today's events! We will see you for the final task in June!"

The boats were very efficient as they loaded the people and ferried them back to shore. Harry and Hermione were taking turns telling Ron and Draco what they missed while under the water. Neither of them noticed that Lucius Malfoy had been lurking in the shadows, witnessing the entire interaction with a sense of curiosity about his son's closest friends.

Chapter Text

The golden quartet snuggled into the cozy hut as Hagrid poured them some butterbeer from a stash he kept for special occasions. Draco was very thankful for the well-lit fire as the five of them gathered around, laughing and catching up. Draco and Ron described what it was like to be placed under the stasis spell while Harry was regaling them with what happened during the search under the lake. After witnessing Fleur's encounter with the Grindylows, Harry confirmed Hermione's assumptions about the residents of the merpeople village. Hogwarts was still polluting the Blake Lake with waste product from the plumbing system, which the underwater creatures were, obviously, still sore about. When Harry tried to untie Fleur's sister, the guard had attacked him, forcing Harry into a duel before he eventually won and was able to free Ron and Gabrielle. Had he not been able to save the remaining hostages, the merpeople had planned to double-cross the ministry committee and use those left behind as collateral to force the government's hand into cleaning up their home.

"That's barmy! And to think Draco. The committee lied to Dumbledore and, by extension, us and said we were safe," Ron exclaimed.

"I still cannot get over the fact that not only did you sneak into Snape's cupboard, but you threatened Mr. Crouch," Harry said to Hermione as he snorted into his mug.

"Mione? Our Mione stole from a teacher?" Hagrid gasped.

"How else did you think I got the Gillyweed, Hagrid? I needed it. Desperately. I wouldn't have been able to save Ron and pass the second task without it," Harry soothed the half-giant.

Hagrid looked a bit conflicted with the response before eventually nodding his head, "I guess what Professor Snape doesn't know won't hurt 'em."

Hermione gave each of them a severe look, "I do not appreciate the people I love most being put in unnecessary danger." 

"On that note, I propose a toast," Draco chimed in, raising his glass, "To best friends and necessary mischief!"

"Here, here!" Ron cried out.

The five of them chatted a bit more before Hagrid suddenly announced it was dinner time for some of the creatures that he needed to prepare for class the next day. Not wanting the celebration to end, Draco, Ron, Harry, and Hermione migrated the festivities into the forest as they followed right behind Hagrid. Draco couldn't help but smile at the lively atmosphere as Ron kept cracking jokes while Hagrid sang Harry's praises. The success from the second task was highly contagious and kept their spirits high despite the cloudy and windy weather.

 "Now, I remember- I remember when I first met yeh all. Biggest bunch of misfits I ever set me eyes on!" Hagrid reminisced, "Supposed remind me of myself a little. But here we are! Four years later!"

Ron laughed, "We're still a bunch of misfits, Hagrid."

"Well, maybe," Hagrid conceded.

"And we all got each other," Draco added. The sentiment formed smiles all around the group.

"And don't forget, Harry, of course! Soon to be the youngest Triwizard champion, there's ever been!" Hagrid shouted at the top of his lungs before he started to sing the school song.

Hermione, Ron, and Draco, all a little tipsy on the butterbeer, joined in the anthem as they skipped and danced around the forest. They were laughing and joking together when Harry suddenly cried out.

"It's Mr. Crouch!"

________________

Immediately after finding the dead body of Mr. Crouch, Hagrid had the students run to Dumbledore's office to inform him what had happened. The Headmaster ended up summoning the Aurors and ordered the four of them to wait while the inspectors examined the scene of the crime. He had invited the young Gryffindors to try a Licorice Snap before abruptly escorting Minister Fudge and the Inspectors out the door. Already being too familiar with the office layout, the students were prepared not to sit and elected to pace awkwardly around the ornate room until Dumbledore returned. Draco snorted when he heard Ron's stomach growl, prompting his friend to lick his lips as he reached into the candy jar Dumbledore pointed out earlier.

"Ron!" Hermione admonished the redhead.

"What," Ron protested with a handful of the Licorice Snaps, "He said to help our… OUCH!"

The licorice came to life and started attacking Ron. Harry and Draco were chuckling as Hermione scoffed. She was frantically trying to pick up the candy that had fallen on the floor.

"Will you two stop and help?" Hermione said over her shoulder.

Before the two boys could leap in to assist, Ron had backed into one of the cabinets, revealing a secret compartment behind the door. Magically, the cabinet door opened further to reveal a stone basin emitting a bright light.

Harry gasped, "What is that?"

The four simultaneously moved closer to the basin, mesmerized by the swirling white strands inside the silver liquid. To Draco, they reminded him of locks of hair floating in water.

"It's a Pensive," Draco stated, suddenly remembering what the object was called. He had seen one a long time ago in Borgin and Burkes when he had accompanied his father during his errands. He especially remembered this object because his father had smacked his hands so hard for touching it, he thought he had broken a finger. "I've never used one before, but I know they're extremely costly."

"What's a Pensive?" Harry asked, still moving towards the object in question.

"I've read about them," Hermione chimed in, "They allow you to view memories pulled from a person."

"Wicked," Ron exclaimed, leaning over the rim.

The four Gryffindors circled the Pensive, staring down at the liquid when Harry pulled out his wand and touched one of the silver stands. The liquid suddenly began to glow a golden yellow hue as the image of a courtroom appeared before the quartet's eyes. Similar to a portkey, Draco felt a force pull him down and then lurch him forward unexpectedly into the image with Ron, Harry, and Hermione. The four re-emerged on a bench, sitting next to a younger-looking Dumbledore and Mad-Eye Moody.

"Professors!" Harry called out to them, but the two adults ignored him.

"Professor," someone else in the scene greeted, holding his hand out to shake. The man's arm went right through Ron's stomach as Dumbledore shook the man's hand.

"Bloody Hell," Ron whimpered as he patted down his body.

"You don't need to worry. No one can hear us because we aren't really here. We are just viewing the memory as a… spectator of sorts," Hermione informed them as she gave Moody a wary look, "At least, that's what the textbook said."

"Right," Draco confirmed, "And from the looks of it… we are possibly in Dumbledore's memory."

There was a commotion in the center of the room as someone was lifted into a spiked cage. None other than Barty Crouch called the room to order with the loud banging of a gavel from the Judge's stand. He appeared stern and imperious as he presided over the courtroom and, consequently, the familiar prisoner.

Harry gaped and pointed at the man in the cage, "That's… Karkaroff."

Hermione shushed him just as Mr. Crouch began speaking.

"Igor Karkaroff, you have been brought from Azkaban at your own request to present evidence to this council. Should your testimony prove consequential, we may be prepared to order your immediate release. Until such a time, you remain in the eyes of the Ministry a convicted Death Eater."

"Damn, he's not playing around," Ron commented on Crouch's harsh tone before whispering to Hermione, "You know, I wouldn't blame you if you did murder him."

"Oh, honestly, Ronald!" Hermione hissed, not at all amused by the joke. Draco told them to quiet down so they could hear what Karkaroff had to say. The man looked similar to how Sirius looked after he broke out of Azkaban. Dirty, pale, and thin. His eyes had a crazed look about him as he searched the audience in the courtroom and observed the scene before him.

"Do you accept these terms?" Crouch asked tersely. 

"I do, sir," Karkaroff stuttered.

"And what do you wish to present?" Crouch responded.

"I have… names, sir. There was… a Rosier! Evan Rosier."

Crouch snapped his fingers at the reporter next to him to search a pile of papers on the desk. The poor man desperately flipped through the parchment before finally producing what Crouch was impatiently waiting to review.

"Rosier is dead," Crouch sneered as he threw the paper down in front of him.

"Didn't stop him from taking a piece of me with him, though," Mad-Eye whispered to Dumbledore, making the old professor chuckle.

"If that is all the witness has to offer, then…"

"No! No, there was… Rockwood! He was a spy!" Karkaroff yelled.

Crouch furrowed his brows at the prisoner, "Augustus Rockwood? Of the Department of Mysteries?"

"The same! He passed information to You-Know-Who from inside the Ministry itself!" Karkaroff exclaimed as he nodded his head. He looked like a starved dog wanting a bone with how his mouth hung open.

Crouch paused for a moment as if he was pondering what Karkaroff said before responding coldly. "Very well," he cast his eyes down to the parchment before him and started to scribble something that the four students could not see. "Council will deliberate. In the meantime, you will be returned to Azkaban."

"NO!" Karkaroff screamed. "Wait! Wait! Please! Please, I have more!" he begged, rattling his chains against the bar. "What about Snape? Severus Snape?"

Dumbledore stood abruptly, "As the council is aware, I've given evidence on this matter. Severus Snape was indeed a Death Eater and, prior to Lord Voldemort's downfall, turned spy for us at great personal risk."

"It's a lie!" Karkaroff refuted madly.

"Today, he's no more a Death Eather than I am," Dumbledore finished before he gracefully sat back down.

"Snape remains faithful to the Dark Lord!" Karkaroff insisted, screaming the insinuation at the top of his lungs and inciting chaotic chatter amongst the witnesses in the courtroom.

"Silence!" Crouch yelled as he banged the gavel over and over until the room was brought to order. Once he was confident that he would not be interrupted, Crouch sneered at Karkaroff, "Unless the witness possesses any… genuine name of consequence…."

The four Gryffindors whipped their heads back to Karkaroff as the man began chuckling manically at Crouch. "Oh, no, no, no. I've heard about one more."

"And what's that?" Crouch asked impatiently.

"The name," Karkaroff taunted.

"Yes?"

"I know for a fact this person took part in the capture and, by means of the Cruciatus Curse, tortured the Auror Frank Longbottom and his wife!" Karkaroff shouted, riling up the courtroom again.

"The name! Give me the wretched name!" Crouch spat.

"Barty Crouch," Karkaroff yelled. He paused for a moment as the audience gasped. His crooked smile was the only indication he was enjoying the theatrics of his reveal as he leaned his mouth through the bars and annunciated the last part of the name. "Junior."

From behind Harry, a handsome young man, who looked similar to Crouch, quickly stood up and tried to escape the confines of the courtroom. Sitting next to Hermione, Moody was on his feet as fast as lightning and fired a spell at Barty Crouch Junior, immobilizing the man as Aurors began to apprehend him. Barty Crouch Junior struggled and hurled insults at the law enforcement officers when they pulled him so that he was standing face to face with his shocked father. Draco felt disturbed as the blond watched the scene play out in front of him. The deranged man gritted his teeth before he flicked his tongue out, like how a snake inspects its surroundings. It was an action he had seen Moody do once or twice in the classroom. A tick that distinct was hard to forget.

"Hello, father," Junior sarcastically greeted as he flicked his tongue a few more times.

Crouch narrowed his eyes at the young man, "You are no son of mine."

The courtroom erupted as people were screaming and shouting while the Aurors dragged Barty Crouch Junior away, presumably to be transported to Azkaban.

"Well, guess they aren't going to try Bagman today," Moody said to Dumbledore just as the memory faded away.

Draco felt the same tugging sensation he experienced earlier as the Pensive threw him, Ron, Harry, and Hermione out. The four stumbled a little bit on the stone floor, trying to take in their new surroundings after the stimulating events in the memory. Draco sighed in relief when he realized his stomach was settling and that they were back in Dumbledore's office. However, his sense of security was short-lived as the four made eye contact with the Headmaster himself, patiently waiting for them to re-emerge.

"Professor!" Hermione squeaked.

"We were just…." Harry started to explain, but Dumbledore raised a hand to halt him.

"Curiosity isn't a sin, but one should exercise caution." The Headmaster paused as the students ducked their heads in shame and awaited a dressing down. When it never came, they slowly looked up to find the Professor studying them inquisitively before he nodded in Draco's direction. "I take it, Mr. Malfoy, that you explained what this device is. It's very useful… especially for someone like me who finds their mind… a wee bit stretched."

"And… what exactly, have you been searching for, Professor?" Harry boldly asked.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at the Gryffindor before he cleared his throat, "Something I might have overlooked… a small detail, if you will." He started pacing back and forth as he folded his hands behind his back, "Something to explain why these terrible things have been happening, but every time I get close to an answer, it slips away!"

Ron gulped, "That sounds maddening, Professor."

"Very much so, Mr. Weasley," replied the Headmaster. He plopped down in his desk chair before he rubbed the temples on his forehead as if to prevent a headache from forming. After a few moments of silence, Dumbledore looked up at them, "Which memory were you viewing… that is if you don't mind satisfying my own curiosity."

The quartet looked between one another before Draco spoke up, "The arrest of Barty Crouch Junior."

Dumbledore nodded his head with his mouth slightly parted like he would say something else when the Aurors stormed in. There were three officials in total. One was dark-skinned and dressed in purple robes, which Draco had a sense the man looked familiar. One was dressed in standardized grey robes that Draco did not recognize, and the last one… was his long-lost cousin. Nymphadora Tonks in the flesh. His eyes widened as he took in her bright pink hair and goth-style dark-purple robe. She stood tall and confident as her large peculiar eyes examined everything in sight. Draco shuddered for a moment when she lingered on him longer than she did everyone else, but thankfully a different conversation drew his attention elsewhere. 

"We have concluded our investigation," the first Auror said.

"And what did you find, Auror Shacklebolt?" Dumbledore asked as he leaned against the back of his chair with a tired expression on his face. As soon as the Headmaster said the Auror's name, Draco remembered he was one of the higher ranking Aurors in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and had attended the Malfoy's New Year's Eve party with the Head of the DMLE, Madame Bones.

"We don't believe your students had anything to do with Mr. Crouch's murder. They are free to go back to their Common Room and no longer need to be questioned," Shacklebolt explained.

"But did you find out who killed him?" Harry asked.

The Auror raised an eyebrow at him, "We do not know at this time, Mr. Potter."

"But whoever it was, they possibly knew exactly where the school boundaries were and got away. It wouldn't be hard for someone in the audience to slip into the forest unseen and then cross over the Apparition wards without arousing suspicion," Tonks theorized.

"I agree with your assessment, Nymphadora, and happy to see you rose through the Department of Magical Law Enforcement's ranks so quickly. It seems only yesterday you were pulling pranks and breaking the rules with Tulip Karasu in these very halls," Dumbledore lamented.

Nymphadora beamed at the man, "Thank you, Headmaster."

Dumbledore then turned to the four Gryffindors, "You four may go. Unless there isn't anything else you wish to tell me?"

Harry shook his head, "No, Professor. Thank you."

With that, the four quickly ducked out of the room and sprinted back towards Gryffindor Tower.

"Alright, Harry. What were you hiding from Dumbledore?" Draco asked as they approached the Fat Lady.

"Mimbulus mimbletonia," Harry said quickly. He darted through the portrait hole, ignoring Draco's question.

"Okay. That was weird," Ron muttered as he, Draco, and Hermione followed right behind their friend.

Harry led them through the Common Room and up into the Boy's dormitory. He pulled the dream journal that Draco had given him at the beginning of the year off his dresser and began flipping through it.

"Harry, you're kind of scaring us," Draco said. 

"Are you still having that dream you talked about on the train?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, and Dumbledore's memory just gave me a huge clue," Harry answered, holding up a picture he had drawn towards the back of the journal.

Ron's eyes widened, "Is that…."

Harry nodded, "Barty Crouch Junior."

"But Harry… wasn't he sent to Azkaban?" Hermione reminded him.

"So, he escaped? How? The same way Sirius did?" Draco questioned, concern lacing his voice.

 "I don't know. But he is the one that took Voldemort to the Riddle House," Harry informed them.

"Did you ever hear back from your parents, love?" Draco asked Hermione, referring to her request for her muggle parents to see if they could find where the property was located.

Hermione shook her head, "Not yet. I can send a follow-up owl tomorrow."

"Why does You-Know-Who want Crouch? What were they doing in the dream? You know, besides… murdering the muggle," Ron asked.

"He gave Barty Crouch Junior a mission, but I never heard enough to find out what it was. Just that he swears not to fail his 'Lord,'" Harry said with disdain in his tone.

Hermione waved her wand and made a copy of the picture Harry sketched. "You need to meet with Sirius. Send an owl. Tonight."

_______________________________

Sirius couldn't meet with them until the Easter break at the end of March, which meant that Harry had to wait almost an entire month before speaking to his godfather in person. The four were nervous about sending too much information through the owl post, and rightfully so after Hermione got some awful hate mail due to the one and only article Rita Skeeter wrote about her. Since Miss Skeeter was… indisposed at the moment, there had been no new slander and, thus, no more crazy fans trying to hex Hermione. Draco and Hermione tried to distract Harry by forcing him to actually do his homework. However, the day before the break started officially, Harry had gotten called out to the grounds after dinner by Ludo Bagman (who was now officially in charge of the tournament after Crouch's death was announced) along with the rest of the champions. When the boy-who-lived came back later that night, he looked pale from the news he received.

"What is it, Harry?" Ron asked in a worried tone. 

"I found out what the last task is," Harry informed the group.

"And?" Hermione prompted.

"It's… a maze. They turned the Quidditch pitch into a magical hedge maze," Harry revealed.

"Like Alice in Wonderland," Hermione said.

"Except Harry is going to have to face obstacles more deadly than the Queen of Hearts. I guarantee it," Draco added wryly.

"I have no idea what you two are talking about, but if anything, they will probably place a lot of creatures in your path," Ron stated.

"Agreed. I need some more creature and defense strategy," Harry affirmed.

Draco nodded his head, "We can help with that. When's the next task?"

"Mid-June," Harry confirmed.

"That's about two and a half months, give or take a week. Plenty of time for preparation for the last task and your exams," Hermione emphasized her point by pointing down at a textbook in her hand. 

Harry groaned, "Don't remind me. You'd think being a Triwizard Champion would get me out of final assessments."

______________________________

Sirius and Remus had booked a private room at the Three Broomsticks so that the young Gryffindors could talk to them in private. When they arrived, Harry greeted his godparents with open arms and a beaming smile. Draco could tell that Harry treasured each moment he got to see his guardians by how grateful he acted around them. With the greetings out of the way, it was time to get down to business.

"I haven't been completely honest with you, and it's because I didn't want you to worry, but I've been having these… weird dreams since the summer," Harry admitted as he pulled out his dream journal. "Draco gave me this so that I could keep track of everything."

Sirius took the journal with shaky hands, "And what happens to you in these dreams, Harry?"

Harry explained the nightmare he had been experiencing from beginning to end. He started with the muggle caretaker that he eventually witnessed dying at the end of the dream before moving on to the snippets of conversations between Voldemort and the two followers that he could not place the names of. Harry then described the estate (telling Sirius that he believed it to be the old Riddle House based on the markings in the cemetery that he recorded), the graveyard with the reaper statue, and the snake, which was Voldemort's familiar, in further detail. He also voiced his suspicions that he thought the incident wasn't actually a dream at all but a memory that Harry somehow kept reliving.

The longer Harry talked, the more worried and desperate his voice sounded, causing Remus and Sirius to stop him before he got too worked up. Draco thought they were probably worried Harry would stress himself into an accidental fit with his magic if he kept talking about seeing the green light from the killing curse.

Sirius sighed as he handed over the journal to Remus. He started rubbing Harry's back before he spoke. "It breaks my heart, pup, that you continue to shoulder these burdens."

"Harry, in the dream, what point of view are you experiencing it as? Are you seeing it like you were there in person and recalling the events like a memory? Or are you viewing it as a third party, almost like a ghost just watching what unfolds from the outside?" Remus asked, turning another page.

"Um… I think the first. I'm viewing everything from the perspective of the caretaker," Harry answered.

Sirius looked up at Ron and Draco, "How often does he have these dreams?"

Draco knew that Ron was a bit of a heavy sleeper and wouldn't be able to answer accurately. But Draco practically woke up every time Harry did when the nightmares were over. He always found Harry panting and sweating through his blankets. The past month had been so bad that Draco had virtually perfected cooling and cleaning charms. He fixed his cousin with a stern look, "Every night. The time varies, but every time Harry wakes up from them, it wakes me up."

Hermione gasped, "I didn't realize they were that frequent. I'll send another owl to my parents and see if they can work faster in getting that information."

"No, Hermione. Don't involve your parents further. For now, let's just keep this information between us," Sirius said in a severe tone.

"Do you mind if we keep this, Harry?" Remus inquired, holding up the journal.

"What if I need to keep recording in it?" Harry asked.

"Ah, I see," Remus made a copy of it and handed the journal back to Harry.

"We also want to give you something," Sirius reached into his pocket and pulled out a small silver, square mirror. "Remus and I have an identical one. All you have to do is look into it, and the mirror will contact us."

"Wow! This is… amazing. Thank you!" Harry exclaimed.

Sirius chuckled, "Well, it is certainly faster than an owl, but seriously, pup. If you need anything, anything at all, please do not hesitate to call us."

"We love you so much, Harry," Remus added. "We just want you to be safe."

"I," Harry choked for a minute before clearing his throat. He had thick tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, "I love you both, too."

As Sirius and Remus hugged Harry goodbye, Draco heard the adults telling Harry not to worry about this, and they would take care of everything. But when they sat down for dinner later that night, it seemed the topic would not leave them alone.

Hermione's parents had finally replied and with a novel's worth of information regarding the Riddle Estate. Between classes and preparing Harry for the tournament, the four poured over the documents that her parents had been able to acquire over the course of the next few weeks. It was such a variety of information from newspaper clippings to tax and county records regarding the property that there was a lot to record.

"Look at this one," Ron exclaimed a few weeks later, "The entire Riddle family was murdered in 1943!"

"What?" Harry, Hermione, and Draco said at the same time. They dropped what they were reading to look at the muggle newspaper clipping that Ron was reading from.

"Listen to this! 'Murder in Little Hangleton! Along with his wife (Age 62) and only son (Age 38), Thomas Riddle (Age 63) was found murdered in the conservatory of the Riddle Estate on the morning of June 26th. Law Enforcement reports that they have one suspect in custody, who has been identified as Mr. Frank Bryce, the long-time caretaker for the Riddles. No other details have been released to the public at this time. However, an inside source reports that medical examiners and specialists are baffled as to the cause of death. We will continue to keep you updated as the case unfolds'." Ron paused for a moment to let the words sink in before he muttered, "Bloody mental is what that is."

"There has to be a follow-up to the story, right?" Hermione said as she started digging through the papers again. She gave a wide smile as she pulled out an article at the bottom of the stack. "Here! 'Bryce set free! After weeks of interrogation and examination, the former caretaker for the Riddle Estate, Mr. Frank Bryce, was released from custody this evening due to a lack of evidence tying him to the murders of the Riddle family. The medical examiners and staff are also at a loss. Each member's exact cause of death was listed as 'inconclusive' on the official death certificate filed with the county records. When we interviewed the medical examiner, they stated that there were no marks on the bodies. However, there was some evidence to suggest that all three members suffered from sudden cardiac death simultaneously! It's extremely rare but not impossible. I'm no detective, but my best guess is they were scared to death. It appears the mystery of the night the Riddles died will remain unsolved for now.'"

Harry scoffed, "Scared to death? I bet you all the Galleons in my vault that Voldemort killed them." 

"So, Voldemort kills his muggle family and leaves the bodies for the maid to find? Why? It doesn't make any sense," Ron stated.

"At least it provides more context to your dream. Or, I guess, rather vision. The last article that Hermione's parents sent us reported on Mr. Bryce's death. He was found in the same room and in the same manner as the Riddles," Draco reported. His brows furrowed when he noticed the date on the page, "Hang on. This said that he died on June 16th, 1994. Isn't that when the nightmares started?"

When Harry nodded, Hermione gave him a stern look, "You're going to tell Sirius about this, right? There is no way that is a coincidence."

"I will call him on the mirror tonight," Harry promised as he gathered up the textbooks. "I'm beat. I'm going to take a shower and head to bed. Who's keeping track of the Riddle documents?"

"Nose-goes!" Ron shouted as he placed his index finger on the tip of his nose. Draco and Harry quickly mimicked the same movement, leaving Hermione the last one to reach her nose. She rolled her eyes at the boys before picking up the documents.

"Tough break, love," Draco teased, earning him a slap in the arm.

"It's probably for the best. You are the most organized one out of all of us," Harry said, trying and failing to placate her with the compliment. He slunk away as Hermione shot dagger eyes at him, not at all amused with their childish antics. But she was possibly just sore about losing the game. 

_______________________

"I can't believe it's the end of May," Draco stated, taking a seat on the floor next to Hermione in the girl's dormitory. There had been no news from Sirius since Harry contacted him. In fact, Draco's cousin sounded angry that they had continued to investigate the Riddle Estate. Even though he and Remus thanked the Gryffindors for the information, they ended the mirror call with a stern lecture to, once again, let the adults take care of matters and stop investigating. While Harry was mad for being chastised, his anger quickly dissipated because he was swamped between studying for finals and training for the maze.

"I know," she said, reaching under her bed to pull out the glass jar. "Did you get the leaves I requested?" 

Draco raised an eyebrow at her before he handed over the vine of pumpkin leaves from Hagrid's Garden. She asked Draco to sneak over after Care of Magical Creatures to gather some of the leaves while she had distracted their friend and Professor. Draco was initially confused by the request, but it all made much more sense after seeing the Animagus being kept in the jar under her bed. "So, that's why you suddenly picked up a herbarium hobby."

Hermione shrugged her shoulders, "Well, I had to keep Rita alive. Even in Animagus form, she still needs to eat."

"True. Has she tried to escape?" Draco asked.

"Sometimes," Hermione answered, "But I'm smarter than her." She pointed her wand at the jar. "Petrificus Totalus."

The fluttering bug instantly froze in mid-air and dropped to the bottom of the jar. Satisfied her spell was effectively cast, Hermione unscrewed the lid. She briefly cast a cleaning charm along the glass and then placed the leaves inside. When the top was secured once more, she released the spell on the journalist. Draco watched in fascination as Rita, in her beetle form, started to munch and chew on the food Hermione had given her.

"It makes you wonder how Sirius survived all those months in his dog form. Scavenging for whatever food he could get," Draco wondered aloud.

"As useful as it would be to transform into an animal… I don't think I could go through the process," Hermione admitted.

"That's fair," Draco agreed. "What animal do you think you would turn into?"

Hermione laughed, "Honestly? I have no idea. Probably a cat." There was a comfortable silence between them as Draco slid his hand across the floor to hook their pinky fingers together. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a slight blush form on her cheeks before Hermione cleared her throat. "What animal do you think your form would be?"

"Obviously a dragon," Draco joked, causing another laugh to burst out from Hermione.

"I don't think that's possible," she said.

Draco dramatically sighed, "Well, guess you’re right, and it's best not to find out. Besides, I could turn into something worse than a beetle."

"Oh," Hermione gave him a curious look. "And what is that?"

With a conspiratorial glint in his eye, Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a very familiar-looking toad.

Hermione's eyes widened, "Is that…."

"Neville's toad, Trevor. Yes, yes, it is. And I think he just spotted his next meal," Draco mocked. He placed the frog right against the side of the jar, scaring Skeeter. The predator alone sent Rita into a frenzy as she tried putting as much space as possible between her and the amphibian.

"Draco!" Hermione tried to admonish him, but she couldn't hide how funny she found the sight before her. Draco did look a bit ridiculous holding the toad up to a glass jar, but once she composed herself, she gave Draco a somber look, "We are not going to murder, Rita."

"Oh, no. This is just a warning to our friendly neighborhood journalist. Trevor likes to wander, and we simply can't be held responsible if he decides to pay a visit to the girl's dormitory," Draco hinted. He tapped on the jar before glaring at the beetle, "And this is to remind Rita that she has to behave… that is if she ever wants to get out. Double cross us and avoiding hungry toads is going to be the least of her concerns. Flutter your wings once if you understand."

Reluctantly, the beetle complied and flicked her wings. Rita Skeeter received her warning. Loud and clear.

___________________

Before the golden quartet could blink, May turned into June. Draco's birthday passed by in a quiet affair, for they were primarily focused on helping Harry train for the maze. Their exams wrapped up the day before, allowing the anticipation of the day for the third task to consume the school entirely. Hermione, Draco, and Ron didn't see Harry until right before the official start of the event, for he was at lunch for the Champions and family members who had come to support them.

One by one, the champions appeared with their family before a large crowd of spectators. Cedric Diggory walked out first with his father, Amos, right behind him. Draco thought the man was a little overly enthusiastic about Cedric's leading position but quickly dismissed the thought when he saw Harry appear with Remus and Sirius right behind him. Many of the students' attitudes had changed towards Harry since Dumbledore initially pulled his name from the Goblet. Instead of jeers, many cheered and wished Harry the best for his final performance as they waved flags and banners with his name painted on them. Naturally, Hermione, Ron, and Draco were cheering the loudest for him. Once Krum and then Delacour made their appearances, Bagman walked out to the center of the field to give his usual introduction.

"Thank you all for joining us this afternoon as we kick off the third and final event for the 1994 Triwizard Tournament!" Bagman called out, exciting the crowd. "Our Champions have faced a dragon, battled creatures from the deep, and now, they will face the perils of the maze you see before you! The objective is to find the Triwizard Cup, which Hogwarts own Professor Moody has been instructed to hide. The first Champion to find the Cup wins the Tournament!"

There was a pause from Bagman as some of the crowd (mainly from the Durmstrang section) complained loudly that the task was not dangerous enough. Hermione rolled her eyes when Bagman took personal offense to this and began addressing the allegations, "While this may not seem like such a daring task, be warned. Our contestants will undoubtedly have to face many challenges, but the question remains… Will they lose themselves along the way to victory?"

The ominous warning was enough to appease the crowd, allowing Bagman to send each participant to their starting locations.

"He's such a drama queen," Hermione muttered under her breath, causing Ron and Draco to laugh.

"Now, as a reminder to our audience today. Safety of the Champions is still our number one concern. The staff will be patrolling the parameter in case any contestant wants to withdraw from the competition. To signal so, all they need to do is cast Periculum into the sky, and they will be retrieved. Doing so, however, means they will not be allowed to re-enter the search," Bagman announced.

With that being said, Mr. Filch set off the cannon, indicating the Champions were free to start their quest. As soon as they crossed beyond the hedge's barrier, the shrubbery magically closed the path off, separating the Champions from the audience. The first task has been terrifying but entertaining to watch. The second task had Hermione in a tailspin as she waited for Harry, Draco, and Ron to return to the surface safely. But the third task was boring. There was no way to check the progress or see what "challenges" had been placed to prevent the contestants from finding the Cup. So, the three Gryffindors did the only thing they could do. They sat down and waited.

While many of the students were engaging in conversation around them, Hermione brought a book to read instead. Draco contented himself with writing theories about Harry's vision in his composition, and Ron was simply waving his flag back and forth as he watched the hedges for any signs. The redhead leaned back and sighed.

"This is boring."

Draco hummed, "You think they would have come up with a way for us to view what was happening inside the maze."

Ron furrowed his brows at Hermione, "Seriously? How can you read at a time like this?"

Hermine scoffed, "It's more productive than just staring off into space."

"How about you help me, Ron," Draco cut in, trying to prevent a fight between the two.

Ron looked over at the notebook, confused by Draco's plot map, "What's all this?"

"Just trying to see if I can connect some dots," Draco informed him, showing his friend his thought process. "See, we know that the Dark Lord was in the Riddle House over the summer, and that's where he murdered the muggle, Mr. Frank Bryce and that he did that about a month before the World Cup."

"Okay… How are the two connected?" Ron asked.

Draco pointed at the duplicate picture of Barty Crouch Junior, "I think Barty Crouch Junior was at both events. He helped You-Know-Who get into the Riddle House and cover up the muggle murder, and then stole Harry's wand to cast the Dark Mark."

Hermione had closed her book and leaned forward, "Why do you think Barty Crouch Junior set the Dark Mark up that night?"

"Because of Winky. She was the Crouch's house-elf," Draco explained. "Remember how she acted that night? Like she knew who it was but could not say? Which means someone she was bonded with had to have given her a command not to reveal their identity and lie about the mark. Only members of the bonded family can give a house elf a binding command."

Hermione's eyes widened as she followed Draco's train of thought, "It was Junior who cast the spell and then forced Winky to take the fall."

Draco nodded, "And I wouldn't be surprised if Crouch Senior suspected that, which was why he insisted on Winky being punished privately."

"That and he was probably trying to save face in front of all those Department heads," Ron muttered, getting agreements from Hermione and Draco.

There was a commotion coming from the far side of the maze as a glare of red sparks started glowing in the sky. The three held their breaths as they waited to see who would be withdrawing from the third task first. After a few more moments, McGonagall came out with a bruised and beaten Fleur Delacour. She stumbled over to the medical witches with a glassy and haunted look in her eyes. Her clothes were shredded in various places, and her ponytail was half falling out. Something, or maybe someone, had attacked her.

Hermione held her hand up to her mouth and gasped, "What happened to her?"

Draco reached down and squeezed her wrist, "I don't know."

Many in the audience kept mumbling and speculating what happened to the Beauxbaton Champion when another glare of red sparks appeared in the sky not five minutes later. This time, Snape came from around the hedge dragging Viktor Krum behind him. The Potion's master roughly threw Krum down on a bench to be medically treated when he called an Auror over to examine the Durmstrang Champion.

"Why do you suppose he is asking an Auror to look at him?" Ron asked Draco and Hermione.

"Maybe he did something naughty he wasn't supposed to," Fred speculated as he leaned over to whisper to the three.

"No," Hermione protested, "Viktor wouldn't!"

"You sure, 'Mione?" George asked her.

"Positive," Draco answered for her. He resumed looking at the sight before them before voicing his own theory, "He could have been cursed. Look! They are running a diagnostic on him. Those are runes used for checking curses."

"Fleur attacked, and Viktor cursed. Who would do that?" Hermione asked.

"It better not be one of the teachers," Ron groaned. "The last thing we need this year is one of the Professors trying to do us in again."

Draco's eyes went so wide they looked like they were about to pop out of his head. "What did you say?"

Ron reared back from his blond friend, a look of concern on his face, "You good, mate?"

"What did you just say, Ron?" Draco repeated.

"I… that it better not be one of the teachers that attacked Fleur and cursed Krum?" Ron said.

Draco's mind began to reel, connecting puzzle piece after puzzle piece of information the four had gathered throughout the year when there was a sudden woosh, followed by the thump of a body on the grass before them. Cedric Diggory had returned with the Triwizard Cup in hand. Victorious. Once the audience caught on, everybody stood in the stands and started cheering and clapping for the Hogwarts Champion. However, Cedric looked anything but celebratory. He pushed past all the people trying to stop and congratulate him as he desperately made his way over to Dumbledore.

"Sir! Professor Dumbledore! You need to help him. Harry! They have, Harry!"

Hermione, Draco, and Ron were immediately on their feet. They elbowed and weaved their way down the steps and out onto the grass, trying to get to Cedric. They strained to hear what he was telling Dumbledore and the rest of the Professors who had gathered. 

"What do you mean, Mr. Diggory?" Professor Sprout asked her student.

"The Cup was a portkey. Harry and I grabbed for it at the same time… it was Harry's idea, really, but when we both touched it, the Cup transported Harry and me to a graveyard," Cedric explained.

"Oh, Merlin," Bagman said in a nervous voice, "Moody placed the cup."

Dumbledore turned to Severus. "Find him!"

Snape quickly ran out of the clearing at the order, followed by Tonks and another Auror, presumably to search the grounds and the castle for Mad-Eye.

"Damn it! We can't trace where the Cup sent them!" Shacklebolt muttered as Remus began to pace. Sirius started threatening every Ministry official in his line of sight if they did not find Harry that instant when Dumbledore swept forward to take charge of the situation.

"Professor McGonagall, I want you to take the rest of the teachers and start escorting the students back to the Great Hall. Professor Flitwick, please coordinate with the Tournament Committee and have our guests escorted to the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade until the Aurors can question them." The Headmaster then turned to the young Hufflepuff, "Mr. Diggory, this is very important. Can you describe any details about the graveyard?" he implored.

"I didn't see much, but we weren't alone. There was a man there with us. He… he lit the cauldron. The man… was carrying something in a blanket. That was all I saw before Harry managed to summon the Cup and send me away. He… Harry saved my life," Cedric recounted as his father held his only son in a tight hug.

"Did it look like this?" Hermione pipped up, holding the picture of the reaper and tombstone from Harry's dream.

As soon as Cedric saw the image, his eyes widened, and he nodded empathically. "That's it! How… how did you know?"

"Sir, Harry was taken to Little Hangleton," Hermione stated at the same time Ron jumped in.

"The graveyard is located next to the Riddle Estate." 

"And how do you two know this?" Bagman asked in an accusatory tone.

Draco glared at the official before he said in a cold tone, "Because Harry dreamed it."

"There's no time, Ludo!" Dumbledore snapped before snatching the picture out of Cedric's hand. He had a stern look on his face as he looked at the three Gryffindors for a moment before he turned to Auror Shacklebolt. "Kingsley, lead your team past the anti-apparition wards and head to the location the students just described. As for you three. My office. Now."

Leaving the students no room to argue, Hermione, Ron, and Draco made their way up the path back to the castle while Shacklebolt commanded the extraction team off the school grounds. Draco noticed that Sirius and Remus had joined the party. He sent a silent prayer, hoping that it wasn't too late before they got to Harry.

"Well, Dumbledore is hacked off at us. That's for sure," Ron muttered.

"I'm not entirely sure why," Hermione replied.

"Because we didn't tell him about Harry's nightmares. He thinks we kept it from him," Draco theorized.

"To be fair, they aren't any of his business," Hermione retorted in a haughty tone.

"I don't disagree with you there, love," Draco said. His comment launched the friends into another silence when they found themselves, once again, outside the Headmaster's office. The three Gryffindors stood awkwardly outside the Gargoyle.

"Uh…" Ron drew out before clearing his throat, "Professor Dumbledore told us to come here?"

The statue shook its head, refusing them entry.

"Bloody hell! What are we going to do now?" Ron asked them.

"Wait, I suppose," Hermione sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.

The three were staring at the entrance to the Headmaster's office, annoyed with having been locked out and not knowing the password, when they simultaneously turned their heads at hearing a familiar clunk, clunk, clunk…

"Is that…" Hermione started to ask when they saw their Defense Against the Dark Arts professor hobble past the corridor and down the Grand Staircase.

Draco looked at Hermione and Ron with a confused look. "That looks suspicious."

"We should follow him," Ron stated, already tip-toeing towards where they saw Moody.

"Ron," Hermione whispered, failing to stop their redheaded friend.

"We should follow him," Draco said quietly, grabbing Hermione's hand to guide her forward gently. The three silently followed behind the Defense teacher all the way to the third floor and into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. The man was hobbling and waving his wand, frantically packing up his belongings, when Ron called out.

"Going somewhere, Professor?"

The man immediately stopped what he was doing and turned to look at the three Gryffindors. Draco reached for his wand when he saw the menacing look the Professor had.

Mad-Eye growled at them before he cast a curse that stuck them up against the wall. Green slim started to grow around them, binding their bodies further to the wall and making it harder for them to move.

"Stop moving!" Hermione shouted, "The slime will tighten the more we struggle."

Moody laughed manically, "You're such an annoying, swotty, know-it-all, Granger. Fucking took everything in me not to kill you every bloody time you raised your hand. You filthy little mudblood."

Hermione gasped, "Excuse me?"

"You heard," Moody spat before pointing his wand at Ron, "And you! A Weasley… so useless and pathetic. I'd expect nothing less from one of Arthur's boys. Sons of blood traitors always are fucking wastes of magic."

"Piss off!" Ron yelled at the man.

"Silencio," Mad-Eye retorted before turning to sneer at Draco. "But you…. You, I did not expect. A Malfoy. Sorted into Gryffindor and aligned with mudbloods and blood traitors. How… disappointing."

"What do you know," Draco gasped out. The more the slime contracted, the harder it was for Draco to breathe and speak. He tried to stop. Honestly, he did. But he was just so uncomfortable that it was instinct for him to try and wiggle his way out of his confines.

"That you were born into one of the most noble and ancient legacies our world had to offer… and you SHITE on it! Acted like it was nothing! You… you had the perfect opportunity to play the long con with Potter, but what did you do? Actually became friends with him. Bah!" Moody hackled the blond. He paused for a moment before resuming his unhinged tirade. "When the Dark Lord emerges from the graveyard tonight, he will see how loyal I was to him. He will see the mission he gave me… completed. And he will reward me for being… insurmountable to his victory."

Draco blinked. What was this man talking about? The Dark Lord is back? No. That's not possible. He can never return. Ever! He was gone. Lord Voldemort was gone.

"It was you! You put Harry's name in the Goblet of Fire," Hermione yelled.

"Oh… Clever girl," the Professor taunted her. "I did a bit more than that, missy. Do you think Looney Lovegood would have gotten the idea to go into the part of the woods where the dragons were being kept if I hadn't suggested it? Hmm?" When the students didn't respond, he continued, "Who do you think told Cedric Diggory to place the egg under the water to get the next clue? Who gave the witless wonder Longbottom the book that led Potter to use Gillyweed? Huh?"

"And then you attacked Fleur and Krum tonight so Harry would have a clear shot to the Cup," Hermione finished, "Only, you didn't count on Cedric in your equation."

Mad-Eye grunted in pain and began to convulse a bit before he corrected himself.

"I don't know who you are, but you've been using Polyjuice Potion all this time to impersonate our Professor. Since the night of the opening feast. You set off the wards, but… somehow… you dismantled them!"

"Shame then that you won't live long enough to find out how," Moody said to her in a low tone before he fixed Draco with a hard stare. "Imagine how much your father will owe me… for taking care of a mudfucker… sullying his pure line…."

"Expelliarmus!" loudly rang through the room as the classroom door flew off its hinges. Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall, Tonks, and Shacklebolt all charged into the room and attacked the man posing at Alastor Moody. Dumbledore waved his wand again and sent the fake Mad-Eye back into a chair. Leaning over and holding the man at wand point, the Headmaster called for Snape.

Tonks and McGonagall were undoing the curse on Hermione, Ron, and Draco at the same time the Potion's Master poured a few drops of a clear and odorless liquid down the prisoner's throat.

"Do you know who I am? Do you?" Dumbledore demanded. The three Gryffindors moved over to the side of the room to have a better view of the interrogation.

"Albus Dumbledore," the imposter growled out reluctantly.

"Are you Alastor Moody? Are you?" Dumbledore questioned.

"No," the man answered, his response flowing more freely than the first one.

"Is he in this room?" Dumbledore asked. The impostor was trying to fight the compulsion of the potion, prompting Dumbledore to ask the question again, "Is he in this room?"

In place of a verbal response, the man impersonating the Defense Professor inclined his head over to the corner of the classroom where the Gryffindors had wandered over.

"Ron, Hermione, Draco! Get away from there!" Dumbledore shouted, running over to a black trunk that the students were standing in front of. With a flourish of his wand, Snape shot an Alohamora at the chest. Several layers rose from the initial lock, causing mechanism after mechanism to unlock and reveal a deep, secret compartment.

"Are you alright, Alastor?" Dumbledore called down into the depths of the trunk.

"I'm sorry, Albus," the real Moody weakly called up.

"But… but, if that's the real Moody, then who…." Ron stuttered, his voice newly returned, as the spy started grumbling and gurgling from his seat. His body began to violently shake as his skin bubbled and transformed into the face and features of Barty Crouch Junior.

The Death Eater crackled and flicked his tongue out like a snake. "He's back! The Dark Lord has returned."

"Severus, alert the rest of the Aurors that their assistance is required on the third floor of the castle," Dumbledore ordered calmly.

"I'll be welcomed back like a hero!" Junior screamed at the Headmaster as Tonks jammed her wand into his cheek to silence him.

Dumbledore smirked at the man, "Frankly, I've never had much time for heroes." He then turned to the students, "Please escort yourself back to your Common Room."

"We'll send an owl en route to Azkaban," Draco heard Kingsley inform the group as the three students bolted out of the classroom. Once they were on the main staircase, Hermione collapsed against the railing while Ron started running his fingers through his hair.

"Bloody Hell! He was a Death Eater. A Death Eater the entire time!" Ron stated over and over in disbelief.

"I knew it," Hermione gasped out.

"Breath, love," Draco calmly said as he brushed the hair out of her face, "What are you talking about?"

"I knew about the Polyjuice Potion but forgot to mention it after the second task. When I went to steal the Gillyweed, I ran into Moody, or rather Barty Crouch Junior, stealing the ingredients," Hermione told him.

"Oh, Hermione," Draco said as he pulled her into a hug, "There's nothing you could have done."

"But what about the bracelet? It kept turning red every time he was near? And how he treated us? Draco… all the signs were there, and we ignored them," Hermione insisted as she held tightly to Draco.

"Love," Draco said sternly, getting her to look up at him with glassy, brown eyes. "You cannot blame yourself. Neither of us could have done anything differently."

"I could have…."

"What? Told someone? When have adults ever believed us when we tried to tell someone we think this person is trying to kill Harry? Or us, for a matter of fact," Draco pointed out.

"Not to interrupt, but you got a point, mate," Ron said.

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to process what her friends were saying to her. After a moment, she nodded, "You're right."

"And now that we've acknowledged that, how about we sneak down to the hospital wing and wait for Harry?" Ron asked.

Draco smiled, "That's a good idea."

The three stealthily made their way to where the hospital wing was located. Draco held Hermione's hand while Ron strolled next to them with his hands in his pockets. The three suddenly stopped when she saw Lupin pacing outside the doors. Their former Professor paused when he saw them and gave the three a kind smile.

"Hello, how are you lot doing?" he asked.

"We came to see Harry," Ron said.

Remus's face fell slightly, "I'm afraid that's not possible right now. He's being treated."

"What happened?" Hermione asked.

The three impatiently waited as Remus looked conflicted. He clearly knew what or who had attacked Harry but was debating whether to tell the young Gryffindors or not.

"Professor, please," Draco pleaded.

Remus's shoulders slumped as he gave the students a compassionate look. "He was attacked. By…"

"Yes," the three Gryffindors said at the same time.

"By Voldemort. He's back."

End of Year Four

Chapter Text

They say time can stop when you reach a fork in your life path. The roads before you branch off in opposite directions, but you never really know the destination until you pick one and start walking.

__________________

Draco found himself at such a metaphorical path two days before the train was set to leave for Kings Cross Station in the summer of 1995. Since his first year and his sorting into the House of Lions, he always knew he would eventually have to make a choice, and it seemed the time had finally come upon him.

He could return home like normal and find himself enslaved to the blood purity politics down one road. In doing so, Draco would be trapped and forced into service of his father's Lord and Master. Down the other, he would live a dangerous life as a traitor, possibly never being allowed to see his mother again so long as she remained bound to Lucius. But with this one, he would be staying as true to himself as possible and be with the friends he had come to care dearly for. More importantly, Draco would be with the girl he had fallen in love with.

And his clever witch, who just so happened to be his best friend and secret girlfriend, always had a plan.

___________________

Living with the Grangers was strange, to say the least. It had only been two weeks since he walked off the Hogwarts Express with Hermione and rode home with her and her parents from Kings Cross Station. Yet, he didn't regret his decision. After finally releasing Rita Skeeter back into the world, Hermione cast a temporary glamour on him, making it easier for them to sneak out of the busy station and into the muggle contraption she called a car. The experience was… well, let's just say Draco never wanted to ride in a muggle car ever again.

How Hermione convinced her parents to let him stay with them for the summer was beyond him. Her mother, Kathryn Granger, was such a wonderful and sweet woman. She was witty like Hermione and shared the same kind eyes as her daughter. Her father, Robert Granger, was a different story. While he wasn't as open as his wife, he clearly was brilliant, and it was evident by the short, thick curly hair on his head that he was the one Hermione inherited her curls from.

Robert did not take kindly to learning that Hermione had a boyfriend, especially after Draco accidentally blew up their microwave.

"What is this device above the oven?" Draco asked the second day there.

"Oh, it's a microwave," Hermione said flippantly, momentarily forgetting that Draco did not grow up with muggle kitchen appliances. 

He stared at Hermione for a moment, not understanding what the muggle device did or its purpose in the kitchen. Hermione looked up from the task she was doing to see the confusion on Draco's face.

"Ah, it's a… machine that heats food," Hermione tried to explain.

"You mean like a smaller oven? But why do muggles need two ovens?" Draco inquired as he started pushing the different buttons, amused by the different tones each button chimed.

Hermione tried to hide the smile behind her hand before schooling her composure, "It's not exactly like an oven. It uses vibrations known as microwaves to reheat or heat food. It's faster than an oven as well. Here. I'll show you."

After Hermione reset what Draco had pushed, she showed him how to set the cook time and start the machine properly. Draco thought he understood how it worked until he tried to heat one of those frozen meals from the icebox himself. He accidentally set the timer too high and forgot to remove the foil covering the packaging, causing the microwave to completely explode all over the kitchen.

Hermione and Kathryn just blinked at Draco while Robert griped about the careless mess the boy had made. The damage wasn't too bad until Draco tried to use Robert's toolbox from the garage, thus making the microwave unsalvageable.

He apologized profusely and even offered to convert the few gallons he had left to muggle money so that he could have it replaced, but Kathryn refused and insisted it wasn't the first time a mishap had occurred in this house. She told Draco some stories of Hermione's accidental magic while she and Robert removed what was left of the microwave. They went that weekend to buy a new one while Hermione took him clothes shopping in a muggle department store for the first time. Kathryn had given the teenagers a budget and told her daughter to get Draco a variety of shirts, shorts, denims, socks, and shoes. If he was going to survive in the muggle world then he was going to have to dress like one and learn how to blend in. Hermione kept him very organized and was patient with Draco as he tried on different styles to see what he liked. Had it been up to her, though, she probably would have spent all their money on the denims because Draco just looked so bloody fit in them!

The only one that ever questioned Draco's presence in the house was Robert. The muggle man thought it was odd that the young lad couldn't return to his own home. So, when Robert tried to bring it up on occasion at the dinner table, Hermione would vehemently defend Draco and almost demand her father to drop the subject. Draco suspected Kathryn had assured Robert many times that he was a good friend first and that they had always told Hermione if any of her friends were in trouble that they were more than welcome to stay.

While continuing to live in the muggle world was a bit of an adjustment, Draco was plagued by nightmares causing him to barely sleep at night. Though the pull-out couch proved to be somewhat uncomfortable, he mostly would lie awake, hoping to find complete exhaustion and escape the terrors in the back of his mind. The fear of his family seeing him, finding Hermione; fear of what the rise of the Dark Lord would bring; fear that her parents would disapprove once they found out who his family was and where he came from; fear for his mother's life and what would become of her because of his decisions. After spending more hours awake, he finally felt like he had just rolled over to get some rest when he heard quiet steps coming down the stairs. 

"I'm going to start breakfast. Your father has a root canal scheduled at 8:30 this morning. Did you want to help?" Kathryn asked Hermione, he presumed. Draco mentally surmised that she was speaking about something that had to do with their profession. On his first day with the Grangers, he finally learned what went into being healers of the teeth. Dentist, as her parents referred to themselves. 

"Sure, Mum…" Hermione mumbled sleepily. 

"Great, why don't you get the eggs and milk out. I'll grab the skillet and the flour," Kathryn directed.

"You should start the coffee pot first," he heard Hermione groan through the rattle of cabinets being opened. The comment made Draco smirk to himself. His clever witch was never a morning person, always preferring the strong taste of the rich, dark liquid to the weak leaves brewed in tea.

After a few minutes of kitchen noise, Draco heard the conversation resume with Kathryn trying to ask her daughter a particularly interesting question.

"So, Draco…" Kathryn trailed off as she began whisking the eggs.

"Mum…" Hermione's tone gave a hint to a warning. "Did you wake me up to interrogate me? If so, I'm going back to bed."

"No, no. I just want to talk, dear. I know you've told me that Draco is probably the dearest and closest friend you have ever had. I was just curious to learn how it evolved," Kathryn explained politely.

"Draco was the first friend I ever had. He was so nice to me on the train, and then when we got sorted into the same house, we were always pairing up because no one would be his partner." Hermione took a pause. He knew she wasn't admitting that no one wanted to partner with her either, whether because she was too intelligent or for her blood status. Prejudice existed in all houses, even their own. Eventually, she continued, "We spent so much of our free time together. Draco grew up in the Wizarding World, so he kind of took it upon himself to show me things and help me when I was struggling to grasp reality."

"He helped you manage your panic attacks," Kathryn stated. Her voice had a knowing edge to it.

He imagined Hermione nodding in confirmation when she went on, "Draco has it really tough in school, mum. People outside our house are… wary of him, and as a result, people can be cruel to him. Not that they aren't mean to me, but they just… really hate him, and Draco just has so much strength and courage for being able to face down that adversity. I admire him for it."

He felt pride and affection swell in his chest at hearing Hermione saying she admired him. Before he could overthink it, her mother asked, "Why do the students bully Draco? Is it because they are intimidated by his intelligence?"

Hermione chuckled wryly, "If it were only that simple."

Draco heard the sudden clatter of a dropped utensil when he heard Kathryn's voice become very sad, "Hermione. You can tell me anything. I may not understand wizarding society, but I can listen and try my best to help. I am still your mother."

"Well, as I said, Draco grew up in the Wizarding world. He comes from a very old family who can trace their lineage back for centuries."

"So, aristocrats? Doesn't explain why my daughter's fancy wizard boyfriend has been sleeping on our couch for the past two weeks," Kathryn stated bluntly.

"There's this political movement that witches and wizards who are not from traditional wizarding families should not be allowed into the community. A traditional family is often a pureblood, which is what they are called when being referred by their blood status. There are two other designations; Half-bloods are those who have one magical parent and one muggle parent, and then there are people like me who are muggleborn with no magical parents. They call…." Hermione cleared her throat, "They call people like me mudbloods because our blood is dirty. They think we shouldn't be allowed to learn and live with the magic. Draco's father is a supporter of that movement. He would never approve of someone like me dating his son," Hermione explained.

 There. She said it. She ripped the muggle band-aid off and told her mother the truth. That he is from a line of bigots and radicals. Draco tensed, waiting for Kathryn's response, waiting for her to kick him out for being related to people who wanted to hurt and kill her daughter.

"That's quite discriminatory. How serious is this movement?" Kathryn asked.

"It's pretty serious now since the leader of it has returned. And the Ministry has taken the stance of denying it," Hermione provided vaguely, not wanting to go into details about Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Not to mention, Fudge had been making an absolute ass of himself by refuting Dumbledore's and Harry's claims about what happened with the Triwizard Tournament. In the end, Barty Crouch Junior had been returned to Azkaban and was set to receive the dementor's kiss any day now. After being interrogated by the Aurors, Ludo Bagman admitted to helping Junior with the plot to kidnap and pose as Alastor Moody but denied all claims that the Dark Lord had risen. Bagman lost his position within the Ministry and was sentenced to Azkaban for 10 years on conspiracy and kidnapping charges. It was quite the scandal, but more importantly, the incident and trial kept Rita's quill entertained as she wrote sensationalized article after article on Bagman's fall from grace. Though they released her on the condition that she stop writing articles about the golden quartet, he wouldn't put it past Rita's conniving nature to find a way around their blackmail. 

"I see. That's a shame," Kathryn responded.

"I didn't want to tell you. I was afraid you and dad would be worried, and I didn't want you to stop me from returning to school. I have to keep learning, Mum," Hermione pleaded.

"Sweetheart, I understand." There was a moment of silence in which Draco imagined Kathryn either hugging Hermione or giving her an empathetic look when she finally spoke again, "I think it might be best if we did not tell your father. He wouldn't be able to handle all this… newfound information."

"I completely agree," Hermione paused again before asking her mother what she had been dreading, "You aren't going to kick Draco out, are you?"

"Does he believe the things his family does? About the muggleborns and the half-borns?" Kathryn asked.

"Half-blood, and absolutely not! Mum… I thought that would be obvious by the fact that one, he's dating me, and, two, he asked to stay with me and not return home. He's terrified of what will happen to him if he does," Hermione defended.

"Then he can stay until you need to return to school. However, your father is not exactly thrilled with a boy staying on his couch, especially after destroying the poor microwave.”

“Mum…”

“I know. I know it's not his fault, and we aren't mad at him. Well, Robert is still a little… perturbed, but perhaps you could contact Harry or Ron and ask them if he could stay with one of them?" Kathryn gently nudged.

Draco could just picture the contemplative look his clever witch was possibly adorning as she mulled over her mother's request when he was startled by Kathryn continuing. "It's not that we don't like Draco. He is a bit odd to us, as I am sure we are odd to him… but you do know you normally don't bring your boyfriend home for the first time as a refugee, right?"

Hermione laughed loudly at her mother's joke, "I know. I just… I had to protect him, Mum. I care about him a great deal." 

"I can see why. Draco is quite handsome," Kathryn said coyly.

"Mum!" Hermione replied, clearly embarrassed by the teasing tone of her mother.

"It was just an observation. Besides, I think Draco has eavesdropped long enough that he should get up and set the table," Kathryn raised her voice slightly, causing Draco to stir from his bed.

Hermione laughed, "You're caught! How much did you hear?"

Draco flashed Hermione and Kathryn a charming smile. “Not much, but my apologies, all the same. I woke to the sound of your lovely voices and I just didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Oh, not at all, Draco, dear,” Kathryn waved him off before returning to the scramble eggs.

Hermione couldn’t help the blush that peaked at the top of her cheeks. She rolled her eyes when Draco winked at her on his way to set the table, “Since you probably heard everything, what did you think about Mum's point? I don't necessarily disagree with her logic, but I want to hear your thoughts," she said.

"Which one? The point she made when she said I was quite handsome?" Draco teased as he maneuvered around her with the dishes. 

Hermione picked up a pinch of flour and threw it at the back of Draco's head, "Not that one. The one where she said we should contact the Weasleys' or Sirius and see if you can stay with them for the rest of the summer."

"Oh, that one," Draco replied. The playfulness instantly seeped out and was replaced with the somber reality of his situation. For all intent and purpose, he was on the run. He couldn't go back home and face his father for fear of being subjected to one of the evilest wizards in Wizarding World history. Draco would undoubtedly become a pawn or tool as part of whatever plot the Death Eaters would carry out for their master, and refusal would result in his death. Despite being sorted in the house of the brave, the news of the Dark Lord's return paralyzed Draco with fear and uncertainty. If it weren't for Hermione and even Ron and Harry, he would have drowned in self-imposed isolation. He would have felt like he had no identity. It didn't matter that his father tried to condition him into being proud and honoring his family name. But if the Malfoy name was going to stand for violence and intolerance, then he wanted nothing to do with it.

"Yes, what do you think?" Hermione pried as she began washing out a bowl in the sink.

Coming back to himself, Draco remained quiet for a moment as he genuinely contemplated how to answer before he spoke, "I think it would probably be better. I've intruded on your parents' hospitality, and I don't want you to lose time with them."

Hermione came up and placed her hand on Draco's back, "That's not what I meant, Draco." He turned around after setting the last plate down. "We would be going to the Weasleys. Together."

"But what about…." Draco tried to ask, but Hermione cut him off.

"They'll be fine. Besides, it's not like I'll never see them again," Hermione explained. Before she could continue to argue her point, she and Draco turned at the sound of a tapping noise on the kitchen window.

"Oh, look, Hermione! You got an owl." Kathryn said, opening the window to allow a familiar Eurasian Eagle Owl to drop the letter down.

"Ariel! Where in the world have you been?" Draco asked the intelligent bird.

The familiar gave his owner an impatient hoot before flapping his wings and flying off into the sky.

Hermione and Draco blinked at one another, unable to form a response to the animal's bizarre behavior. When she recovered, Hermione quickly opened the letter and read the contents. She smiled when she finished the letter and looked up at Draco.

"What?" Draco asked her, curious about the message.

"Looks like we are going to be seeing the Weasleys sooner than we think!"

________________

A week had passed since the mysterious letter from Arthur Weasley that he and Dumbledore would be calling upon the Granger household sometime in the near future. Draco found it odd that Ariel had not returned to him after dramatically flying off when the bird delivered his message. Still, between his homework and what Hermione was calling his "muggle education," Draco didn't think anything of it until the adult wizards in question knocked on the Grangers’ front door.

"Oh," Hermione gasped in surprise. She immediately moved out of the way to allow the guests into her home. “Please, do come in.”

"Mr. Weasley. Professor Dumbledore," Draco greeted, coming to stand next to her. He crossed his arms in front of him as he eyed the adults curiously, "How can we help you?"

"Hello, Draco, Hermione," Arthur returned, giving the teenagers a kind smile. "Dumbledore and I wanted to discuss some things with you. Is now a good time?"

"My parents are at the practice now. They won't return until after 5 o'clock," Hermione informed them. She looked uncertain about how the wizards would receive the news.

"Excellent," Dumbledore exclaimed, gesturing to the two armchairs in the living room, "Mind if we sit."

"Please," Hermione said. She and Draco took a seat on the couch across from Arthur and Dumbledore. The two shared a nervous look before turning their attention on the adults.

Arthur also looked a bit fidgety as he cleared his throat, "In light of… recent events, we would like to talk to you regarding…."

There was an awkward pause as Dumbledore gave the two Gryffindors a severe look. "Lord Voldemort has returned, and I'm sure you are aware from the articles in the Prophet that the Ministry is trying to distract the public from the rising crime rate… both in the Wizarding and Muggle world."

Though the news wasn't exactly new to either of the Gryffindors, it was still shocking to hear. Before Harry was discharged from the Hospital Wing and sent home with Sirius and Remus, he had warned them to keep a close eye on current events to see if anything suspicious had occurred. The boy-who-lived wasn't wrong. There had already been an abnormal number of strange disappearances reported on the telly, all occurring near well-known gateways between the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. They were undoubtedly due to some of Voldemort's followers celebrating his return. Draco and Hermione shared a brief look of understanding before turning back to face the Headmaster and Mr. Weasley.

"What do you need from us?" Draco asked.

"If you both are agreeable, we would like you to spend the summer with the Order of the Phoenix," Dumbledore informed them.

"The Order of the Phoenix?" Hermione repeated.

"Yes. During the First Wizarding War, I formed a secret organization as a counterpart to Voldemort and his Death Eaters. We have many members, but you would not be joining in an official capacity."

"Then what…" Draco started to ask but was cut off.

"Instead, we would like you to come to headquarters and… stay close to, Harry," Arthur revealed. "He's been a tad… shaken since the last task and has been feeling slightly isolated."

Draco and Hermione looked slightly ashamed at hearing the implication in the man's tone. Hermione cleared her throat, "We haven't exactly written to him yet this summer. It’s a little hard to when you don’t have an owl."

"As it stands, my familiar seems to have run away! Is he staying at the Burrow, Mr. Weasley? Because the only time I saw him was when he dropped your letter off before flying right back out the window," Draco said.

Arthur gave the boy a sympathetic look, "Your owl has been staying with Harry and Hedwig. Which, honestly, I don't quite understand and hardly anyone can get close enough to the birds to figure out why. It is rather peculiar if you think about it."

"Indeed," Dumbledore added before returning to the previous conversation. "If you agree to come to spend time with the Order, you will remain there all summer."

"I don't know how my parents would take that," Hermione fibbed, though she was looking a little pale at the prospect of spending time in an unknown location. "They've barely seen me for a month."

"I'm afraid those are the terms, Miss Granger. I do not envy you having to live with one foot in each world," Dumbledore responded apologetically.

"Can we have the day to think about it?” Draco asked.

It was entirely unfair of Dumbledore to demand this of Hermione. Disregarding the fact that she was willing to give up her summer to stay with Draco at the Burrow, she hardly ever got to see her parents. It was not her fault that they were muggles and didn't feel welcomed in the Wizarding World. Plus, would they both be safe with this Order? Weren't they fine just staying here amongst the Muggles and not risk crossing the wrong paths?

Arthur looked at Dumbledore, as if seeking permission to respond. When the Headmaster nodded his approval, Mr. Weasley turned back to them with a smile, "I think that is fair. You can tell your parents about the situation tonight, and then we can come and get you in the morning."

Hermione let out a sigh of relief, "Yes, that's perfect. Thank you, Mr. Weasley. Professor."

"Well, I guess we will just leave you to it then. See you tomorrow," Arthur said. Slowly, the adults made their way back towards the front door when the Headmaster turned around with a conspiratorial look in his eyes.

"I would be cautious, Mr. Malfoy and Miss Granger. Our enemies are organizing against us this very moment." He paused, lowering his voice so that the youngsters understood he was serious. "Dark days lie ahead. Soon, there will come a time when we all must choose between doing what is right and what is easy."

With the ominous warning in the air, Mr. Weasley and Professor Dumbledore disappeared with a pop.

Draco and Hermione sat in silence for a moment, just taking in the information that had been dropped upon them. What exactly did Dumbledore mean by his last statement? True, they had been living somewhat disassociated with the realities plaguing the Wizarding World, but that did not mean they were completely immune to the rising perils. One thing that Draco for certain took from the conversation, even though he trusted the man as far as he could throw a Quaffle, was that Dumbledore felt threatened. Or, he was at least afraid enough of Voldemort’s return that he sought to reinstate this Order that was originally formed to fight against the Death Eaters. 

As if in a daze, Hermione suddenly rose from the couch and started walking into the kitchen. On instinct, Draco followed behind her. He leaned against the counter and watched her grab a red can from the refrigerator.

He flashed her a charming smile, “Do you mind getting me a KoKo-Kola, love?”

Hermione snorted and rolled her eyes, sliding her can across the counter to him, “It’s pronounced Coca-Cola.”

When she replaced her beverage, the two clinked the aluminum together, silently toasting themselves.

Draco had a satisfied look on his face after he took a drink and set his can down, “Honestly, these fizzy drinks are the best thing you have ever introduced me to from the muggle world. That and sneakys."

"You mean sneakers," Hermione laughed. She slinked around the counter to wrap her arms around his waist, "I'll make a muggle expert out of you yet. You show quite a lot of promise."

Draco returned her playful look before he leaned down to press his nose to hers, "I have an excellent instructor."

Hermione couldn't help the sweet blush that started to bloom across her face as her lips parted in a soft smile. She gasped as Draco leaned down and met her lips with a restrained pressure that made her stand up on her tiptoes. Draco smirked at her eagerness as he pulled back just enough to catch his breath before leaning back down to reclaim her lips. The two closed their eyes and were lost in the sensation of their explorations as instinct took over. His hands rubbed up and down her arms while hers came up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. Draco was lightly teasing the hem of Hermione's shirt, causing the witch to gasp against his mouth when they suddenly heard the front door open. Hermione instantly jumped away and moved to the opposite side of the room while Draco casually took a seat at the counter. They tried to act casual and not jittery as the Gangers announced their arrival. It seemed their early return was most auspicious, for Hermione would be having the conversation about the rest of her summer sooner than later.

_____________________

Draco and Hermione waited nervously in the living room for Mr. Weasley to come to collect them. Hermione's parents had not been thrilled to learn that their only daughter wanted to spend her summer away from them, but somehow between the two of them, they had convinced her parents everything would be alright. However, Draco suspected Robert was suspicious that something more was going on (namely that his daughter wasn't being entirely honest about where she would be staying). Still, his theories weren't concrete enough to keep the young Gryffindors from joining the Order of the Phoenix. At precisely 11 o'clock on the dot, the fireplace lit up bright green, and out stepped Mr. Weasley with a pleasant smile on his face.

"Good morning, children," he greeted them.

"Morning, Mr. Weasley," Draco responded.

Hermione looked stunned for a moment, before she cleared her throat, "I'm sorry, but... Mr. Weasley, how were you able to floo into my house?"

Arthur chuckled, "Oh, no need to worry, my dear. I have a friend in the floo regulation office who temporarily connected your fireplace to the network for a one way trip. He disabled access as soon as I was through so that no one accidentally pops in unannounced." 

Though Hermione visibly relaxed at the news, Draco thought something was a little off with Mr. Weasley. He didn't know the Weasley patriarch very well, but the man seemed unusually chipper as he rocked on the balls of his feet and clapped his hands together, "Right, got all your things packed and ready to go?"

"Yes, sir," Hermione said, picking up Crookshanks's cage.

Arthur waved his wand and shrunk both their trunks before placing them in his pocket. He then gestured for them to follow him to the fireplace until he suddenly stopped. Draco had been so close to running into Mr. Weasley that he could see the threads of his robes.

"I almost forgot," Mr. Weasley turned around and pulled out a piece of parchment for Draco and Hermione to read.

The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London.

After a few seconds, Mr. Weasley cast an incendio and burned the scrap of paper right out of Draco's hand. He dropped it just in time, so the flames did not burn his hand.

"Right," the man said, "Hang tight, children. We are apparating to the Leaky Cauldron, and then you'll meet the next set of escorts who will take you to headquarters."

Hermione and Draco shared a look before they each grabbed one of Mr. Weasley’s arms. Draco tried not to lose the contents of his stomach as he felt the familiar sensation of his body being twisted and pulled. No matter how many times he was a side-along with his mother or father, he always felt like he was going to be sick. Apparition to him felt like someone was trying to squeeze his body into a space he could not fit, but forcing him through all the same. When they found themselves in the familiar London pub, they were immediately greeted by the real Mad-Eye Moody and Tonks.

"Honestly, Arthur. Couldn't you disguise them before they left? Malfoy's hair alone is like a flare, and Granger's… relationship with Krum has made her more recognizable," Mad-Eye said gruffly. He flicked his wand, casting a color correction on Draco's hair, turning it into a dark brown. He then swished the red oak wood again, conjuring a hat to hide Hermione's voluminous curls.  

"As if that is going to hide my rebellious cousin," Tonks challenged Mad-Eye before she turned to Draco with a smirk. Hermione was momentarily stunned at how similar it was to Draco's and mentally noted that it must be a family trait. "We'll have lots to catch up on once we get back to headquarters."

"Shh," Moody warned, "Not here, Nymphadora."

Tonks's smile immediately dropped from her face and her hair transformed to a fire engine red. She glared at the retired Auror with a murderous look. "Don't. Call. Me. Nymphadora."

"Right. Best be off with the youngsters now," Arthur cut in awkwardly. He looked very uncomfortable by the aggression that was building between Mad-Eye and Tonks. "See you lot later tonight." 

Mad-Eye grunted and nodded at the red-headed man. "Arthur. Watch your back going into the Ministry."

"I know. Constant vigilance and all that, rot," Mr. Weasley replied, giving the man a salute before giving Tonks their shrunken trunks and exiting the pub.

"Right. You two," Moody pointed at Draco and Hermione, "Follow me. And stay alert!"

Hermione and Draco shared another look as they listened to the instructions. They were never more than a foot away from the Aurors, Moody in front and Tonks in the back. Draco noticed that they had only gone about five blocks or so before Mad-Eye sent them on a path through a park. While it was beautiful scenery and, on a typical day, would have made an ideal spot for a date, Draco was relieved when they reached the other side of the path. Something about the park didn't feel right, and he could tell Hermione was more guarded while they trekked through it than when she was in the Leaky.

"Sorry about that, Hermione. You probably are more sensitive to the muggle repelling charm we have over this section of the park," Tonks explained.

"A necessary precaution when members come for meetings," Mad-Eye added. He stopped abruptly in front of a row of townhouses. Wordlessly, he banged his walking stick three times on the concrete. Draco and Hermione watched the scene in front of them start to shift as the buildings shook apart to reveal a hidden unit that was not there before. Draco thought it was pretty amusing to see the muggles inside their homes, completely unaware that a magical residency was opening up without their knowledge. Before he could blink, a black front door popped out and was ready to enter through.

Moody interrupted Draco's musings with another grunt, "Well, what are you waiting for? In you go, son."

Without any more prompting, Draco and Hermione scurried up the front steps, unaware that Tonks had reverted their disguises, to find themselves in a dark-looking entryway. From what Draco could tell in the low light, the ambiance was that of an old stately home between the ornate rugs over the hardwood and the moving portraits that were silently screaming at the two Gryffindors as they stepped carefully down the main hallway towards a light at the end of the corridor.

"Silencing Charms," Hermione whispered to Draco.

He nodded, "And it looks like permanent ones at that." When they reached the end of the short hallway, they popped their heads through the doorframe to find some familiar-looking faces sitting around the table for lunch.

"Oi! About time you lot got here!" Ron smiled, getting up from the table to hug Draco and Hermione.

"We were wondering when Moody and Tonks were going to bring you," Harry added, also embracing them. 

"It's good to see you, too," Hermione said.

"What is this place?" Draco asked at the same time.

Ron flashed the blond a smirk, "Didn't Dad tell you? This is headquarters!"

"For the Order of the Phoenix," Harry added with a smile, "And this is my new home."

"Really?" Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Yes! Sirius grew up in this house and was able to reclaim the property after he was cleared and able to take up the Black family title, which makes him…."

"The official head of the Black Family. Ah, that makes sense. And I take it the portraits on the wall are dear old family ancestors?" Draco speculated.

Harry shrugged, "We couldn't figure out how to undo a permanent sticking charm, so we just permanently silenced them instead. For the most part, we just ignore them. But there are loads more interesting things to tell you."

"Pup, why don't you show Draco and Hermione where they will be staying," Sirius suggested.

"I'm sure they are tired and would like to unpack their trunks," Remus added.

"Plus, you can show them your room," Sirius said in a not so subtle attempt to kick the teenagers out so that the adults could have a private conversation.

"And don't worry, dears. I'll have Kreacher send you up some soup for lunch. You have got to be knackered," Mrs. Weasley assured them before turning back to the stove.

Harry's smile faded a little, but he nodded his head, "Alright."

Draco and Hermione stared up the vast staircase, which had several landings and hallways leading off to different sections of the house. Harry led them up a few flights of stairs to a hallway full of guest rooms. "Hermione, you are going to be sharing with Ginny on the right there. Draco, Remus said to put you in the room across the hall, or you can bunk with Ron and me in my room."

"As fun as a sleepover would be, I would really like to sleep in a real bed and not something transfigured," Draco laughed.

"Don't blame you, mate," Ron agreed before following Harry up a half-flight of stairs to a private room.

The dark-haired wizard turned to his friends with a massive grin on his face before dramatically opening the door, "This is my room."

Harry's bedroom was… huge, for lack of a better term. It had many similar qualities to what Draco's former bedroom looked like, making the blond a bit nostalgic for his childhood room, specifically the things he was forced to leave behind when he fled. But he didn't voice any of this as he took in the massive queen size bed that matched an elegant dresser set. A private balcony also overlooked the street with the park, and there was a rather large en suite bathroom. The ceiling, which Draco took several long minutes to admire, was enchanted to look like a starry night sky. He jumped a little when he felt Harry nudge him with his elbow.

"The best part is that it's an accurate depiction. The stars change alignment based on what month and day it is."

"That's wicked," Draco smiled. He had never seen his friend look so content and carefree before.

"It's everything I could ever dream of. And more," Harry admitted in a small voice. "I never had anything like this when I was with the Dursleys."

"Do you ever wonder what happened to them after you left? Do you still keep in touch with them?" Hermione asked.

Harry scoffed, "Honestly, I couldn't give a damn. I hope Petunia breaks her back, Vernon dies of a heart attack, and Dudley chokes on his desserts."

"Harry!" Hermione admonished while Ron and Draco laughed. "It's not funny! That's really mean!"

The Gryffindor shrugged, "It's just how I feel."

"Besides, Hermione, you don't want to hear about Harry's awful muggle relatives. What you want to know more about is the Order of the Phoenix," Ron hinted.

"Too right, Weasley. I'm kind of shocked Sirius and Remus are letting Dumbledore use your home as headquarters," Draco said.

Harry looked a bit crestfallen as he plopped down on his bed. "It was so Remus and Sirius didn't have to lie to me and sneak out to meetings."

"I'm still not making the connection, Harry. Why would that matter?" Draco asked.

Harry sighed, "Because the first few weeks of summer I was sneaking outside and… taking a walk in the park after dark."

Hermione gasped, "Harry! That's dangerous. What if something…."

"I know, Hermione," Harry cut her off, a little annoyed by her lecturing, "And something did happen. A dementor showed up."

Ron was not surprised by the revelation, apparently already briefed on the incident, but Draco and Hermione looked utterly shocked.

"What was a dementor doing in… what's this neighborhood?" Draco asked.

"Borough of Islington," Harry informed him.

"Not important," Hermione reminded Draco sharply before turning back to Harry, "What happened? Did the dementor attack you?"

Harry shook his head, "No, I got inside the wards before it could. Sirius and Remus were furious and fired off a few Patronus charms, driving the dementor away. When the Aurors showed up, none of them believed that a dementor had gotten loose from Azkaban, but thankfully no charges were filed."

"Charges?!" Hermione cried out in outrage, "What could they possibly have to charge them with?"

"Inappropriate use of magic in front of muggles," Ron supplied, "similar to what Sirius got charged with last time he went to Azkaban."

"They simply can't!" Hermione yelled.

"Calm down, Hermione. They didn't because no muggles saw it," Harry clarified.

"Well, that's a relief," Draco added.

"Tell me about it," Harry agreed, "But back on topic. Sirius and Remus found out I stopped taking the sleeping draught that a healer prescribed, so I started having nightmares again. When I woke up from them, I would go outside to walk around and clear my head."

"Are you having the same nightmare from the Riddle House?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head, "This one is different."

"How so?" Draco asked.

Harry sat up and let out a breath he appeared to be holding in, "They aren't always the same. Most nights, I keep seeing this door that I've never seen before, but other nights I relive what happened to me in the graveyard. How Walden McNair bled my arm to perform a blood ritual before Voldemort tried to duel me."

"And…" Draco trailed off, trying to find the courage to ask, "Did you duel him?"

Harry nodded, "When Voldemort and I cast our spells, our wands connected because we have the same core, from the same phoenix. Dumbledore's phoenix, to be exact."

Hermione raised her eyebrow, "Fawkes can give feathers for wand cores?"

"Evidently so," Harry responded, "But the effect ended up being that a… force field-like thing was cast around us, and the ghosts of all the souls Voldemort had killed emerged from his wand. I believe Dumbledore called it 'Priori Incantatem' or a reverse spell effect."

"Who," Hermione whispered, "How… how many?"

"I lost count," Harry admitted, "But there was Mr. Bryce, the muggle caretaker, and Bertha Jorkins."

"The witch that went missing last summer?" Draco asked.

"Yep," Ron confirmed, "And the head of DMLE refuses to change her status from missing to murdered." 

"Rubbish," Draco agreed.

"But that wasn't all. My parents showed up that night," the Gryffindor said with longing.

The room went still for a moment until Hermione broke the silence, "Harry, no spell can bring the dead back. You know that, right?"

Harry nodded, "I know. But it was nice to see them. If only for a moment. The ghosts distracted Voldemort long enough for me to run away. That was when the Aurors showed up with Sirius and Remus. They took me to the Hospital Wing, as you know, but I guess the squad caught no one that night because they all apparated away before the Aurors could put up anti-apparition wards."

"Why didn't the papers report on this?" Hermione asked. "Instead, they have been focusing on Bagman and other trivial things. It's like they have cut the column dedicated to the DMLE in half!"

"Don't you know! It's because they are keeping the attention off the kidnappings and acts of vandalism all across Britain," Ron said.

"We know," Hermione replied, "My parents may be muggles, but they don't live under a rock. We get the news too."

"And honestly, the muggle news network has been more informative than the Prophet anyway," Draco added.

"Dad thinks the Death Eaters are practicing on the muggles until they are confident enough to start taking muggleborns. Hagrid said this was how it all started last time," Ron revealed.

"Hagrid? You mean he's a member?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, though he hasn't been at the past two meetings. Dumbledore sent him on a top-secret mission," Harry explained. "We don't know where he went or when he's coming back."

"So, are we ever going to get to join this 'Order,' or are we just going to fiddle our thumbs all summer?" Draco questioned sarcastically, "Because from what I can tell, other than the nightmares, you seem perfectly fine to me, Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Ron and I heard this in the last meeting. Dumbledore thought that by bringing you and Hermione to Grimmauld that you would distract me."

"Distract you?" Draco repeated.

"How have you heard what is being said in the meetings if you aren't allowed to attend them?" Hermione questioned with a skeptical tone.

Ron and Harry shared a smug look before producing a small radio from under the bed. Without further prompting, Ron turned the dial, causing low static to fill the speaker for a minute before the signal cleared up.

"Harry is just a boy, Sirius. He is not James!" Molly Weasley's voice screamed quietly through the speaker.

"Do not tell me how to raise my godson, Molly," Sirius threatened her. There was a heavy silence before Draco's eyes widened at hearing his mother's voice.

"Molly isn't wrong. Harry and Draco are still children, Sirius."

"And how long do you expect them to stay naïve to the events unfolding around them?" Sirius retorted.

"As long as possible," Narcissa spat back.

"You can't keep them in the dark! History is repeating itself, Cissy. As we speak, the Dark Lord is taking up residency in your home and breaking bread at your table!" Sirius argued back.

"I know," Narcissa's voice quaked a bit before she cleared her throat. "But I'm trusting you, cousin. I'm trusting you, Remus, and Severus to watch over my boy. Because Salazar help me if something happens to him…."

"We swear, Narcissa. We will treat Draco as if he is our own," Remus promised.

Narcissa sighed, "Thank you, Remus." She paused again, "You have the key and the vault number?"

"Yes," Sirius replied.

"Good," Narcissa responded, "It's not even close to his whole inheritance, but it was all I could salvage. It should cover the rest of his schooling and a few years after."

"Don't worry," Remus said, "We will explain everything to Draco."

"You have protected Draco as much as you can, Cissy. For now, you must focus on protecting yourself. Where does Lucius think the boy has gone?" Sirius asked.

"He spun a tale to the Death Eaters that Draco is visiting distant relatives of the Black's in France and will not be home until school starts," Narcissa revealed. "Lucius knows Draco ran away, and he is furious, but not enough to reveal Draco's apparent defection to the Dark Lord."

"For the best," Sirius stated.

"I should probably go. I've stayed out far too long, and…." Narcissa's voice drifted off through the sounds of footsteps leaving the kitchen. The radio static returned, prompting Ron to turn the dial once more and shut the radio off.

The four young Gryffindors stared at one another as they digested the information. After a few seconds, they all spoke at once.

"You ran away? Mate, where did you go?" Ron asked.

"Voldemort is staying at your house? Can you get us in so we can take him out?" Harry questioned.

"You two explain what that device is now! How is that old muggle toy still even operating?" Hermione demanded.

"What did Molly mean?" Draco asked Harry.

Everyone went silent, looking to see who would answer first. It was Ron who mockingly raised his hand.

"I'll go first. We started using this fabulous device when Fred and George got caught using their Extendable Ear's gadget. Mum has been forcing us to clean out some of the spare rooms, and that is where we found this!" Ron explained.

"Surprisingly, it's not a muggle device because it can work with all the magical interference. However, it is similar to one. It has a microphone that you can attach anywhere in the house, completely undetected, and then you listen to the conversation in the other room by flipping the switch, as you saw," Harry finished.

Hermione raised an eyebrow but overall had an impressed look on her face. "So, do you think you can take the radio to Hogwarts and then listen to Order meetings throughout the school year?"

"Exactly!" Harry exclaimed.

"Nice," Draco added. His smirk dropped though when Harry pressed him with a severe look.

"What do you know about Voldemort taking up residence in your house?" Harry interrogated.

Draco crossed his arms, "First I've heard of it. I never went home after I got off the Hogwarts Express."

"So, again, where did you go?" Ron asked.

"Stayed with Hermione," Draco mumbled.

"Mate, you stayed with Muggles? For over a month? How did you survive that?" Ron questioned.

"Bloody Hell, mate. They're humans, not animals," Draco chastised.

"Oh," Ron made eye contact with Hermione, who had a murderous glare in her eyes. "Sorry, 'Mione."

Hermione didn't say anything, which prompted Harry to reveal what he actually meant when he questioned Draco.

"From what we gathered from the Order meetings and why Dumbledore called everyone together, Voldemort has started to build up an army again. Someday, the Order is going to have to fight, and I want in."

Draco's breath caught. Mr. Weasley might have lied to him and Hermione about why they needed to spend the summer with Harry, but the man had been right to be concerned. Standing before Draco wasn't a sad and isolated boy who was haunted by the traumas of his past. No, Harry looked aggravated and determined. Like he was going to raise his wand and charge upon Malfoy Manor any second.

"And what exactly are we going to do, Harry? Strom Draco's house?" Hermione challenged him.

Harry narrowed his eyes at her, "It's an idea."

"It's suicide!" Hermione yelled at him. She had tears pooling in the corner of her eyes with how frustrated she felt. "It's dangerous and reckless! You barely got past him the last time you saw him. What makes you think that a month and a half is going to change anything?"

Harry didn't say a word, but Draco could tell he was fuming. Hermione wasn't wrong, and Harry knew this, which is why the boy-who-lived was currently grinding his teeth and not engaging further in the argument. Ron, as usual, was standing behind Harry, ready to back him up when Draco stepped in between Hermione and Harry. 

"How about we just keep doing what we are doing. Listen in on the meetings, gather intel, and then explore this dream you are having," Draco suggested as diplomatically as possible.

Harry was still angry, but he calmed down enough to nod. Hermione tersely informed everyone she was going to unpack her trunk and that she would see everyone at dinner, signaling that she wanted to be left alone.  As Draco watched her storm out of the bedroom, he couldn't help but wonder what kind of tirade he would be getting from his witch tonight regarding their friend's behavior.

Chapter Text

During the summer, when the heat was unbearable, Draco and Theo would escape to the various rooms in the Manor to cool off. Their favorite place to hide after running all around the property was the drawing room. The space was often vacant, for its only light source came from the sun or the fireplace if it was lit. The room was tall and grand, with a crystal chandelier hanging in the center on a glass chain. It provided the boys a perfect spot to rest on the oriental rug over the dark wooden floors so that they could stare endlessly at the painted ceiling. Draco had no idea who designed the mural, but he always thought the mythical winged humans were beautiful to look at.

"Do you suppose Angels are real?" Theo asked one day.

"Hmm," Draco hummed, pondering for a moment. He tilted his head as far back as it could go while resting on the floor, "What are Angels?"

Theo pointed to the ceiling, "Those!"

"Huh?" Draco's eyes widened as he turned his attention to the artwork above him. He had always been curious about the picture, but any time he asked, his mother always dismissed the topic and assured him that his future wife would be knowledgeable in trivial matters such as décor.

Theo nodded his head, "Yep! Father was talking about them. Said they were made up things created by muggles and their religion. Whatever that is."

Draco scoffed, "Muggles couldn't have made them up. That's stupid, Theo."

"Is not!" Theo argued.

"Is too! Besides, do you really think my mother would have muggle mythological creatures?" Draco questioned. 

In lieu of a response, Theo suddenly burst out laughing.

 Draco gave his best friend a confused look. This was not how the memory was supposed to go. Theo agreed that Narcissa Malfoy was a woman of refined Pureblood taste and would never do such a thing as have muggle imagery in the Malfoy Estate. Though he was alarmed, Draco was also curious to see how the rest of this dialogue would play out. "What's so funny?"

"It's just… so ironic! Remember?" Draco rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself off the floor as he stared in horror at the scene before him. The drawing room started to darken around them as Theo sat cross-legged in front of him, rolling up his left sleeve. "After we had this conversation, you started reading more art and history books. Researching is what you called it. And it led you to that tome about the war that your father burned out of your hands. Was this the first sign that you would become a blood traitor, or were there others?"

Draco felt like he couldn't breathe as he fixated on the black skull and snake tattoo. The room had dissolved entirely around them, leaving the two former best friends to stand in a swirling black mass. This was a nightmare. It had to be! So why wasn't he waking up?

Theo dropped his arm and started to laugh cruelly again. "You always were weak, Draco."

"St… stop it! Theo, stop it!" Draco stuttered.

"The war is coming. You're on the wrong side."

Draco tried to gasp for air, but it felt like he was suffocating. He started clawing at his throat when his eyes went wide at the sight of Theo transforming into Lucius. His father sneered at him, "such a disappointment to your name and bloodline."

Draco still could not breathe when the figure faded out and morphed into Hermione. She glared at him accusatorily.

"You said that you would always choose me!?"

"I… do…" Draco croaked.

The scene transformed again, dissolving the black, smoky abyss to deposit the young Gryffindor on the Hogwarts grounds. Draco let go of his throat to find that blood and soot covered his skin. The forest and castle that he had come to know as his home burned all around him. With a blink of his eye, the massive stone structure lay at his feet in a pile of rubble, completely eviscerated by the spreading inferno. Distantly, he heard spells being fired and people screaming in terror. Draco barely managed to sob when a ghostly figure emerged from the cover of the smoke. The man was tall and pale, with eyes red as the blood of his victims. He had a thin face, and his nose was so hollow that it looked like there were only two holes where the ridge should be. He moved silently towards Draco, like a snake locked onto its prey. Draco couldn't speak. He knew who this man was, what he was capable of. He looked exactly as Harry had described him not two months ago, but Draco was not prepared for the blood-curling chill that went down his spine as the Dark Lord spoke directly to him. 

"You're a fool, Draco Malfoy… And you will lose… everything."

Somehow, Draco managed to find his voice. "You're wrong."

The young Gryffindor flinched when the Dark Lord laughed maniacally at his pathetic attempt of bravery, but it was the best he could do when faced with the source of his crippling fear. Voldemort's face quickly morphed into a disapproving look before raising his arm over his head. With a quick embellishment of his white wand, Lord Voldemort cast a killing curse directly at Draco. In vain, Draco held up his hands to stop the spell. He quickly shut his eyes and screamed, bracing for the impact of the magic that would end his life.

But then he woke up.

______________________________

Finally regaining control of his body, Draco shot up in bed as he desperately clutched the sheets in his fists. His brain struggled to come back to reality while simultaneously processing the contents of the dream. He began panting in a pathetic attempt to fill his lungs with oxygen while calming his racing heart. The cool air of Grimmauld Place hit his sweat-soaked skin, causing him to shiver despite feeling flushed from the nightmare.

Draco had never experienced one that in-depth before. Usually, though disturbing, they were not so graphic. In fact, they were comparable to facing his boggart in third year. Terrifying, yet still able to subdue. But this one felt more… real, more prophetic than subconscious. Was that even possible? Did he just view a glimpse of the future, or worse? Was Voldemort able to get inside his head similar to how Harry was able to view his memories?

Shuddering at the thought, Draco suddenly became aware of how dry his throat was. Slowly, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and began walking to find the kitchen. He was careful to keep his steps light with the old, creaky floorboards. As he descended the steps, Draco went to make it down the last flight when he accidentally ran into a small body. His eyes widened as he made eye contact with the Black Family house elf, Kreacher. The elf glared at the young Gryffindor and growled.

"Mistress would be most displeased! House full of mudbloods and blood traitors."

Draco rolled his eyes at the elf, "Your mistress is dead."

Kreacher gasped, "You will not speak of her! You filthy blood traitor! You have no right: my Mistress… great woman. Mistress would be most displeased of what has come of her once great home. Of her bloodline."

Having enough of the elf's hatred, Draco crouched down to be at eye level with Kreacher. "I will speak of my Grandaunt any way I wish."

The elf's eyes widened for a moment, staring at Draco in stunned silence. As Draco returned to his normal height, he opened his mouth, about to command Kreacher to show him to the kitchen, when the elf began to scream. Draco frantically tried to calm the elf, but evidently, the information was too much for the elf to handle.

"Not more of Mistress's family! No! No more! You disgrace the Black family name!"

Draco gave up trying to keep the elf quiet when he heard a bedroom door open. Running down the hallway, Draco pulled open the first door he could reach and hid behind the door. He was panting as he listened to the noises on the other side of the door. Sirius started yelling at the elf to keep quiet and to retire to bed when Draco slowly pulled away from the frame. He took a couple of steps into the room, taking in his surroundings. His hiding spot was vacant of furniture, but the walls were eloquently painted all around the room in emerald green and gold. Draco's mouth parted in awe as he saw the familiar faces scattered on branches of a tree. He recognized the Black family motto that was bannered around the room and instantly knew that he found where the Black ancestral home housed the family tapestry. Pointing to a branch, Draco traced along the pattern with his finger as he went through his great-grandparents and then down to his Grandmother Druella and Grandfather Cygnus. He then traced through Bellatrix's name but stopped when he reached Andromeda. There was a charred black hole where her face should be—a permanent symbol of his aunt's exile and disownment.

Draco dropped his finger as his eyes scanned over the rest of this section of the tree. He noticed that the tapestry recognized marriages from other families, even those who had been disowned. Ted Tonks and Nymphadora were branched under Andromeda, while Lucius and himself were branched off Narcissa. To his surprise, Draco had not been blasted off and currently remained a "valid" member of the Black family, but could that be said for the Malfoy family? Would his father take the first opportunity he could get and disown Draco from the Malfoy family? He had been so fixated on the tapestry that he hadn't heard Sirius walk in.

"My mother did that to me after I ran away. I wasn't much older than you are now. Only 16. I'm sure you are old enough to remember. She was… such a charming woman."

Draco snorted at his cousin's sarcasm, "Luckily, I didn't have to interact with her much. Father hated her, and mother didn't go out of her way to socialize me with the Blacks. Plus, she died when I was five, so, there's that."

"Lucky you," Sirius replied in a cheeky tone. Silence fell between the two before Sirius cleared his throat. "Is there a reason why you were teasing Kreacher at 3:00 o'clock in the morning, or were you just bored and wanted to wake the whole house?"

Draco winced at the clam tone, instantly feeling guilt for his actions. "I didn't mean to wake everyone else up. Honestly, I was just trying to find the kitchen and get a glass of water when I ran into him. He started spewing on about how 'disappointed his mistress would be in the house's occupants, so I took the opportunity."

To the young Gryffindor's surprise, Sirius was not angry but instead chuckled at Draco's antics. "Well, you certainly managed to send him into a tizzy. Come on then, dear cousin mine. I'll take you to the kitchen, though I know how to make something better than water if you're up for it?"

Draco raised his eyebrow at the comment but still followed Sirius down the stairs to the kitchen. While Draco took a big swig of water from the tap, he watched Sirius curiously as the man put a small pot on the stove and began mixing some powder and milk. Draco immediately smiled when he realized what his cousin was making.

"Do you like peppermint in yours as well?" Sirius asked over his shoulder.

"Yes," Draco replied, his smile growing wider, "it's my favorite way to drink hot chocolate."

Sirius poured them two mugs before handing one to Draco. He grinned as Draco eagerly took the ceramic, now hot from the liquid inside. It was a bit surreal to Sirius to see a member of his family he had hardly known, yet they shared so many similarities. "It's mine, as well."

Draco savored how the warm liquid traveled down his throat and into his chest, warming his body from the inside out. He felt happy again and could forget all about the events laid out in his horrible nightmare for a moment. Out of the corner of his eye, Draco noticed Sirius setting down his mug. The man gave him a knowing look before running his finger over his facial hair.

"You want to talk about what woke you up, or am I going to have to guess?"

Draco ducked his head, "It was just a nightmare."

"I've heard that one before," Sirius said. He looked down at the table and continued speaking under his breath that Draco had to strain to hear. "Just like Harry."

Sirius raised his head to meet Draco's eyes again, "What sort of nightmares are you having, Draco?"

Draco's shoulders slumped slightly as he crossed his arms in a defensive position. "They usually aren't that bad, but tonight was… different."

"Different how?" Sirius probed. When Draco didn't respond, his cousin came around the table to stand next to the young blond. "Hey, I only want to help. I can't protect you if I don't know what's going on."

Draco looked up at the man, stunned at seeing Sirius looking so concerned. His cousin really had no reason to trust Draco. All the other people in his life, besides his closest friends, always looked at Draco with mistrust based on his surname alone. Nothing was stopping Sirius from doing the same, even after he helped the man escape the dementors and Aurors in his third year. Since leaving his mother behind, Draco felt there were few adults in his life he could trust. In fact, he could only think of three off the top of his head: Severus Snape, Arthur, and Molly Weasley. The rest he felt like he barely knew, including his cousins and Aunt. For some reason, though, Draco felt like he needed to tell someone what he saw. He was going to wait until the morning to tell Hermione about it, but… maybe…

"What made this one different," Draco paused to clear his throat. "Was that the Dark Lord appeared."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, "Go on."

Draco huffed, "Normally, I see my father. He tells me how much of a disappointment I am and then threatens to hurt Hermione. I usually wake up when he's about to Avada me, but this time another visitor came. The Dark Lord. I wasn't even in the Manor for most of it."

"And what did he say to you?" Sirius asked.

"He said... He said," Draco stuttered. He gulped, instinctively reaching for his throat when feeling how dry it suddenly became. "He said that I was a fool and would lose everything."

Sirius picked up Draco's empty water glass and refilled it. As he handed it out to Draco, he asked, "And in the dream, where did he say this to you?"

Draco took several long gulps of water before setting down the glass. He gasped for air before looking at Sirius, "Hogwarts. It was… the school, the grounds. It was burning. Everything was covered in ash and flame, and the air was filled with smoke." Sirius didn't say anything but possibly looked paler from hearing Draco's disturbing dream. Neither of the Black relatives seemed to know what to say to one another until Draco asked, "Do you think it was a vision?"

"Oh, cousin," Sirius reached out and squeezed Draco's shoulder before pulling the young Gryffindor in for a hug. Stunned, Draco remained stiff for a moment until the shock wore off. As he relaxed, he felt a tension leave his body, which allowed him to be comforted by the embrace. They stood there for a moment until Sirius pulled back, forcing Draco to look him in the eye. "I honestly don't know the answer, and I don't want to lie to you."

"Mr. Weasley said Harry was having weird dreams as well. Do you think they are connected?" Draco asked again, but he frowned when he saw Sirius shake his head.

"I honestly don't know, cousin. I wish I had solutions for you. But maybe you should take your own advice and keep a dream journal. You know, Harry still uses the one you gave him last year."

Draco nodded, "That… is an idea. Maybe I can get one when we go shopping for school supplies."

"Which, by the way, you don't have to worry about. Your mother set an account up that only you have access to. Remind me to give you the key when the sun is actually up," Sirius said with a hint of teasing. 

"Right. I forgot how early it was," Draco replied a bit sheepishly.

Sirius grinned at him, "It's no problem, cousin. Head on back to bed, and we can talk more at breakfast." As Draco was leaving the kitchen, Sirius called out to him. "Draco."

The young Gryffindor turned around, "Yes?"

"One more thing for you to think about. I know you were raised to call You-Know-Who the Dark Lord, but you might want to consider calling him by his name," Sirius winked at Draco before returning his attention to cleaning the dishes.

Draco's mouth widened in surprise for a second before he nodded his head and made his way back to bed. The conversation certainly left him feeling uncertain. He had no clarity as to what the dream was all about, but one thing he walked away from with certainty was that Sirius was on his side. As Draco closed his eyes, he felt a sense of relief, knowing that he wasn't completely alone and did, in fact, have family in his corner.

____________________________

The next few weeks at Grimmauld were entirely mundane until Harry's birthday party on July 31st. When the teenagers weren't doing their homework, reading, or listening to the Wireless, Molly Weasley employed them to assist with cleaning out the remaining rooms in a vain attempt to keep them all occupied and out of trouble. This included a few bedrooms that had been used for storage and a Conservatory on the top floor of the house. Mrs. Weasley refused to let them in the basement because she believed a boggart was hiding there, so naturally, Fred and George Weasley tried to sneak down to the place they were forbidden from entering. This particular adventure, though entertaining, ended with Remus putting a powerful ward on the basement until Mad-Eye could capture the creature and properly turn it over to the Ministry for handling.

With the rising crime rates, suspicious disappearances, and general unease that surrounded the return of Voldemort, the teenagers weren't allowed to leave the property. This made finding Harry a birthday present very difficult but not impossible. In fact, Draco implored his other estranged cousin, Tonks, into sneaking out to Sugarplum Sweet's shop on their behalf. She got a variety of boxed candies that everyone chose to gift to Harry. The Weasley twins got a little more creative and gave the boy-who-lived some of their pranking devices, which Harry found equally amusing and impressive. With Harry's gifts opened and the cake cut, the golden quartet were peacefully munching on their desserts when Arthur Weasley entered the kitchen.

"Right, so sorry to interrupt, but Dumbledore has called an emergency meeting." The Weasley patriarch apologetically looked around the room when his gaze landed on Harry. He gave the dark-haired wizard a small smile. "And, Happy Birthday, Harry."

"Pup. Everyone, you can take your cake upstairs while Remus, Molly, and I clear the table," Sirius announced.

Most of the teenagers frowned and started to rise from their seats to comply with the order, but Harry slammed his fork down. The room turned, startled by the sudden clatter of silver against the porcelain of the plate.

"Why are you keeping us out of the loop?" Harry demanded, the frustration evident in his voice.

"Harry…" Remus said softly, but he trailed off when Harry stood up, the movement causing his chair to scrape loudly against the wooden floor.

"No! No more secrets. We deserve to know what is going on, what is happening…."

"I know," Sirius agreed, stopping Harry mid-argument.

The young Gryffindor looked at his godfather, stunned, yet confused. Harry raised his eyebrow, "Then… why…."

"We can have this conversation later. After the meeting," Sirius said. He walked around the table and hugged Harry briefly before leaning back to give the teenager a placating smile. Had Draco not been standing so that he could see his cousin's face, Draco would not have known that Sirius had just whispered something in Harry's ear. The blond made a mental note to ask his friend about this later as he followed the line of Weasleys out of the kitchen and upstairs. Once they had cleared a flight, Draco heard the front door open, followed by a roar of footsteps trampling down the hall.

"Georgie, do you ever think we will be included in the Order someday? After all, we are of age," Fred asked his twin.

"Freddie, I think as long as Mum and Dad are involved, they will do everything to keep us out of it," George replied.

"Well," Ron said to the group, "You know what that means."

Harry nodded, "The radio."

Everyone gathered around on Harry's bed as Ron pulled out the secret device they had been using to spy on the Order meetings. Though filled with information, most of the gatherings were largely uninformative because no concrete plan was ever discussed. It was mostly just reports and updates from people on what they noticed in their day-to-day lives. Draco could tell the lack of a "call to action" annoyed Harry the most about these meetings. His friend was ready to take an offensive stance, but the active members were content with Dumbledore's defensive strategy for now.

During Draco's first listen-in, he learned that Bill had transferred back to Gringotts in Britain (though the oldest Weasley longed for the dusty tombs of Egypt and wanted to return) and was keeping tabs on the Goblin activities. Dumbledore had tasked Bill to watch and gather intel on known Death Eater accounts and immediately inform the group if any of these individuals made sudden large transfers or opened up new vaults that seemed suspicious. At least, he was assumed to be doing his assignment when he wasn't distracted by his new partner, Fleur Delacour, who also took a job at the London branch after graduation. Every time she spoke up in Order meetings, Fred and George shared knowing looks and often snickered about their oldest brother's newest relationship.

That day was also when Draco discovered Percy Weasley's estrangement from his family. After getting into a screaming match with his parents over their "insane" beliefs that Voldemort had risen once more, the third oldest Weasley moved out of the Burrow permanently and relocated to a flat in London. When Ron explained the situation later that night, he made it out to be more about the fact that Percy was ambitious and letting his resentment over Mr. Weasley's position and lack of respect in the Ministry bubble to the surface.

Besides the Weasley Family, Tonks and Kingsley reported on what they found in the Auror department while an unreliable thief named Mundungus Fletcher went through highlights of what he heard on the streets of Knockturn Alley. Charlie came to meetings about once a month, given that his assignment mainly involved him gathering allies in Romania and other foreign nations. The main fear was that Voldemort had insurmountable numbers who supported him in the First Wizarding War, but would those remaining followers come forth again? Dumbledore seemed to think so, and it appeared the Dark Lord was also reaching beyond Britain's borders.

"Alright, everyone, quiet down," Mad-Eye announced, getting the small amount of white noise chatter in the background to cease.

"Thank you, everyone, for meeting on such short notice," Dumbledore greeted in a voice that demanded the room's attention. "Tonight, we have a few new members. Unspeakable Hestia Jones and Professor Minerva McGonagall are joining the cause."

There was a pause, but no polite applause or any noise of acknowledgment followed the announcement. Instead, the initiation was followed by some shuffling noises that Draco deduced to be the two new recruits finding a seat around the table. Once everything was settled, Dumbledore cleared his throat, "As you have probably seen in the Prophet, the Minister has just instated Lucius Malfoy as the new Head for the Board of Governors."

Draco's eyes widened at hearing Dumbledore say his father's name through the speakers. In their second year at Hogwarts, Lucius Malfoy used Ginny Weasley to sneak a cursed diary into the school, which possessed the youngest Weasley to open the Chamber of Secrets and unleash a Basilisk that petrified muggleborn students. As a result of threatening the other members of the Board, Lucius lost his position and any power he once had in influencing school decisions. Draco thought his father was permanently banned from ever holding such a position again, but it seems his father was once again able to connive his way back into the community's good graces.

"As such, Mr. Malfoy’s first order of business has been to launch an… investigation of sorts to determine the cause of the turnover rate in staff, particularly the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. He cited concern for inconsistency in the curriculum which has created irrefutable harm to the students."

"Which is absolute rubbish," Tonks piped up, getting some grunts and groans of approval.

"Innit funny, Professor, and quite peculiar why 'ogwarts 'as a new Defense teacher every year," Fletcher chimed in with his thick Cockney accent. 

"It is a fascinating tale, Mundungus, but one reserved for another time." Dumbledore paused to allow the room to return their focus back on himself before he continued. "According to the announcement, Mr. Malfoy will be taking two weeks to interview potential candidates, and then this person shall be appointed onto the staff in some capacity."

Draco strained to listen to what Dumbledore was saying, for Harry's owl started to hoot and holler from her perch high off in the corner of the room.

"Shush, Hedwig!" Harry snapped before turning back to the radio.

"Can the Board do that?" Kingsley asked.

"Normally, no," McGonagall answered, "In recent history, they have served more of a ceremonial role and only have the power to approve or disprove texts that the teachers  can require. However, Fudge has recently granted extraordinary powers to the Board, which now gives them more control than before."

"Minerva is correct," Dumbledore added. "Traditionally, hiring and firing staff have been left solely up to the Headmaster of Hogwarts, but this new responsibility requires me to seek approval for whoever I wish to appoint as the new Defense Professor."

Hedwig hooted more loudly this time, causing all their heads to turn and attempt to quiet the bird. After three more cries, Draco gasped when he saw his own owl come up to the window. His large Eurasian Eagle Owl started to aggressively peck at Harry's balcony glass door.

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Harry got up and opened the door. "There you go! Bloody bird."

Draco watched Ariel fly up and snuggle close to Hedwig as Ron quieted everyone. "You all just missed Snape enter."

"Professor Snape?" Hermione clarified, "He's in the Order?"

"Aye," Fred confirmed.

"Works as a double agent," George added.

Draco had no words for his godfather's role in Dumbledore's organization. Subconsciously, he leaned forward just a bit more to listen to what Snape had to report.

"The Dark Lord is content to stay in the shadows… for the time being. His closest followers, who were fortunate enough to escape a prison cell, are actively recruiting here in Great Britain and beyond. However, the recent loss of Peter Pettigrew and Barty Crouch Junior did not go without an impact on the support for his return."

"Well, can't say I am entirely remorseful for their deaths," Sirius said harshly. He received some agreement from other members when Snape continued with his report.

"As far as I am aware, Karkaroff has been declared missing by the Bulgarian government since he never returned with the Durmstrang delegation," Snape continued. He had an air of disdain in his tone, possibly due to being interrupted by Sirius. "There is no active investigation."

"I believe he went into hiding on the night of the third task. He did not mention to me where he was going," Dumbledore added.

"Other defectors that the Dark Lord intends to track down once his numbers have increased include Caldwell Gibbon and Marlow Jugson," Snape said.

"What were their roles in the first war?" Tonks asked.

"Gibbon and Jugson were both Death Eaters, however, very low in rank and only were taken as support in larger missions," Snape explained.

"The Auror office has files on both. They were interrogated. Both claimed to have been placed under the imperious curse as justification for their actions," Kingsley informed the group. "Since then, they have kept clean for the most part. Gibbon owns an apothecary along the coast in Southern England, while Jugson is an international tradesman. He relocated to the United States shortly after his five-year probation expired."

"Would Voldemort really travel that far and track down someone who did not answer his call?" A new voice, Draco presumed to be Hestia Jones, asked.

"I wouldn't underestimate the Dark Lord's ability to seek revenge," Dumbledore replied cryptically.

"The only other thing I have observed in my brief…. reacquaintance with the Dark Lord is that he has taken over Malfoy Manor as his base of operations. Lucius has been temporarily promoted within the ranks and in charge of Ministry infiltration with Yaxley."     

"Who, conveniently, is in the Improper Use of Magic Office," Kingsley added sarcastically.

"I know it seems we have much to fear but do not panic. Let us go around the room and take note of our own observations. Bill. Fleur. If you wouldn't mind starting," Dumbledore said.

"Nothing to report on the Goblin front, I'm afraid. They continue to work with both sides, but I wouldn't be surprised if they establish allegiance with whoever has the most gold to offer them," Bill said with a hint of disappointment in his tone.

"Very well. Kingsley?"

And so on and so forth. No new information was offered other than everyone was exercising constant vigilance for any suspicious activity. Frustrated with how the meeting ended, Harry shut off the radio and shoved it back under his bed.

"Careful there, mate," Ron admonished, "That's our only source."

Harry huffed, "I know, I'm just… angry. And my bird's constant chirping is not helping!"

"Seriously, something is really wrong with both your owls," Fred said to Harry and Draco. To be honest, Draco had been so focused on what Snape had to say that he completely tuned out the little high-pitched chirps that were continuously going in the background. He had never heard his owl make that sort of noise before. Ariel always had a low tone for his call.

"Maybe someone should take a look," George suggested with a conspiratorial glint that he shared with his twin. The two redheads raised a finger to their noses simultaneously, prompting everyone around the room to quickly follow suit. Ron was the last one, thus losing the game.

He scoffed, "Oh, piss off you lot!" Accepting his loss, Ron found a stool and climbed to get a peek at the nest, where both Hedwig and Ariel were sitting next to protectively. As soon as the birds made eye contact with Ron, they started hooting and flapping their wings at him. "Oi! I'm not here to hurt you! Crazy birds…"

"What do you see?" Hermione asked.

"Hang on a moment. I'll get there if they let me," Ron muttered. After a minute or so, Ron let out a noise of surprise, "Well, Merlin's beard!"

"What is it?" Harry asked.

Ron turned around with a hearty laugh and massive smile on his face, "You and Draco just became in-laws."

"What?!" Harry and Draco exclaimed at the same time.

"That's right," Ron said, "Hedwig and Ariel had little owlets! Here, come see!"

As Ron got off the stool, Harry and Draco each put a foot on the wood and hoisted one another up so that they could look for themselves. Sure enough, Ron wasn't joking. Draco's jaw dropped when he saw Hedwig nuzzling into Ariel's side as they looked down towards the newly born owlets in their nest.

Harry smiled, "Hedwig! You became a mother."

As if to respond to his question, the owl gave him a short hoot before turning her attention back to her children. There were four of them all together and exhibited a soft, downy white color that resembled their mother, yet there were specs of black that attributed to their father. Draco could already see their coats start to fluff out as their feathers dried.

"Well, now we know why Ariel was MIA all summer," Draco said. "He didn't want to leave Hedwig or the eggs behind."

"Oh, come on, you two! I know you just became grandparents and all that but let us have a turn!" Ginny insisted. Slowly, Draco and Harry got down to allow Ginny and Hermione a chance to look at the creatures. When the two boys turned to face one another, Harry gave Draco a lopsided grin as he grasped his shoulder in a brotherly embrace.

"Looks like we are forever tied by our owls," Harry teased.

Draco returned the gesture and chuckled, "That and you are the godson of my cousin. I don't think there is anything that can undo this bond, Harry Potter."

"Guess that means you are stuck with me, Draco Malfoy," Harry retorted, resulting in hearty laughter from around the room.

_________________

The month of August was ticking by slowly, yet it filled everyone with much anxiety. The school supplies list didn't arrive until two weeks before September first, leaving everything to the last minute. However, when they finally did get their letters, Draco was surprised to note that the textbook list was significantly shorter than previous years.

"Is there a reason why we don't have more texts?" Draco asked no one in particular as the boys and Ginny sat around the living room.

"Mate, what are you saying? Thank Merlin that we have fewer books," Ron retorted.

There was a pop right behind Harry as Fred and George apparated into the room. "Ours only has two books," George jested.

"Alright, which one of you sad sods got Prefect?" Fred joked. He reached over and pulled Ron's letter out of his brother's hand and pretended to examine it.

Draco playfully scoffed, "What are you talking about, Fred?"

Fred smirked at the blond wizard, "Don't you know? Fifth year's when Dumbledore chooses two new Prefects from each house."

"You get all kinds of privileges, such as staying up past curfew," George added.

"Or gaining access to the Prefect's bathroom," Fred said. He looked off into the distance like he was slightly remorseful for a moment, "Honestly, that is my only regret for not being more of a model student. I would so have loved access to that bath."

Harry laughed, "We did not need to know your bathing preferences, Fred."

“Too right,” Fred agreed.

“Besides, Harry. We wanted to show you our new invention!” George exclaimed, conjuring a trunk with a large W on the side. Harry instantly perked up at the twins’ ideas for a joke shop they wanted to open one day, but Draco noticed Ron was paying no mind to the interaction as he stared down at his letter.

"But your saying Dumbledore selects the Prefects in fifth year? For some reason, I thought it was the sixth," Ron said, looking slightly crestfallen as he turned the envelope upside down. Shaking the envelope out, the redhead appeared even more disappointed when no badge came out.

"Oh, it's not like you ever had a shot, ickie Ronniekins," Fred joked, making Ron flush with embarrassment.

"He had more of a chance than me," Draco fired back, coming to Ron's defense. Though Draco loved the twins, he hated how much they ruthlessly teased Ron. And yes, Draco was also upset to learn that he was not selected for the honor, but he could set aside his pride long enough to stand up for his friends. He flashed Ron a small smile, "Evidently, Harry and I cause too much of a scene. What with me being a runaway and Harry becoming the last Triwizard Champion." 

"Oh, I knew I wasn’t going to be selected," Harry informed the group nonchalantly, "Sirius and Remus warned me that Dumbledore might do something like this to extract some sort of revenge for not telling him about the nightmares. Besides, Prefect rounds are when the Order meetings take place. I can’t listen in on the Order and be responsible at the same time."

"Well, if none of us got it for the boys, that leaves Neville or Dean," Ron theorized, looking slightly better after Draco’s defense and Harry’s reassurance.

Harry opened his mouth to say something else, but Hermione's shrieks cut him off. Draco was instantly on his feet, ready to charge to her defense when she came running down the stairs. Hermione flew into the room and crashed right into Draco's chest. With Quidditch-like reflexes, Draco caught Hermione and held her close. He immediately became distracted by how beautiful she looked with wide, surprised eyes and blushing cheeks. Her curls effortlessly framed her face while her chest puffed in and out from the energy she exerted.

"Where's the fire?" Draco teased as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, forgetting they were in the room surrounded by their friends.

"I got it!" Hermione whispered breathlessly. Her gaze slowly left his grey eyes and landed on his lips.

Draco's breath caught in his throat as he saw the longing look in her eyes. She really did look like a witch that wanted to be kissed, and had Harry not interrupted them, he would have done just that. 

"Got what?" Harry asked, coming to stand next to them. The movement caused Draco and Hermione to remember themselves and pull apart.

Hermione flashed Harry a kind smile as she proudly held up the red and gold Prefect badge, "I got Prefect." 

All around the room, everyone politely congratulated Hermione when Mrs. Weasley bustled into the sitting room to announce lunch was ready. The boys and Ginny filed out one by one, eventually leaving Draco and Hermione alone. When Draco thought the coast was clear, he quickly leaned down and kissed his girlfriend, shooting her a genuine smile. "I'm so proud of you."

Hermione ducked her head, blushing as she mumbled, "Thanks." She quickly recovered and returned to staring into Draco's eyes with a teasing expression. "Now we can do late-night rounds together. And… maybe sneak into a broom closet or two…."

Draco's smile fell off his face as he shook his head, "I didn't get selected."

Her brow raised and nose scrunched in confusion, "What? How is that possible? You are second in our entire year!"

"Technically, our ranks are still tied," Draco retorted before giving her a sad smile, "And I guess Dumbledore didn't want a misfit pureblood as a school representative."

"That's complete rubbish. You were the perfect candidate. In fact, I will write Dumbledore back and argue your posit…."

"Love," Draco whispered, placing a finger over her lips to stop her mid-rant. "It's okay."

"It really isn't," Hermione replied. She kissed Draco's finger, causing him to laugh as he retracted it. She looked at him somberly, "I know you, Draco Malfoy. You're upset."

"Yes," Draco admitted, "but there are more important things to worry about than whether or not I became Prefect."

"Are you still having the nightmares?" Hermione asked. When Draco didn't respond, she looked at him with more concern. "First Harry and now you. From what little you have shared with me, Draco… these nightmares frighten me."

"As they do me," Draco said quietly.

"I didn't mean…."

"I know," Draco soothed. "They… have just become another occurrence to this strange new life I am living."

Hermione placed a hand on his cheek before quickly dropping it when she heard footsteps.

"Oi! You lot coming for lunch?" Ron yelled as he peaked his head around the corner of the door frame.

Draco chuckled, "We're coming, Weasley."

"You better. Mum made potato soup, so I make no promises for saving you a bowl!"

"Fair enough," Draco replied as he watched Ron walk away. He then turned back to Hermione, "We should do as he says and make our way to the kitchen."

Hermione sighed, "I suppose." She reached out and gave his hand a quick squeeze before skipping out of the living room.

Draco watched her go for a moment, content to see the happy skip in her step. He truly was proud of Hermione, but a part of him was hurt that he did not get to share the honor with her. Draco always dreamed they would hold the title together and stand alongside her as Head Boy one day. It would be a tough pill to swallow, but eventually, Draco would get over it. He wasn't lying when he said there were other things to deal with. If it wasn't for his own nightmares, then it was waiting to see what You-Know-Who's next move was or simply keeping Harry alive.  Regardless, Draco didn't need the added responsibility of being a Prefect on his shoulders and could focus on figuring out what his and Harry's recurring nightmares meant. Sighing to himself, Draco wondered if he would never know peace in his life before making his way to the kitchen, hoping to find that Mrs. Weasley had saved him a bowl of soup.

Chapter Text

Kings Cross was a madhouse, just like every year. Only this time, the four, including Fred, George, and Ginny, were being escorted by Order members through the station. Mad-Eye led the procession with Remus and Sirius flanking Harry. Tonks and Molly Weasley were behind everyone else as they briskly made their way through the brick wall and onto the correct platform. There was much hustle and bustle around them as the students gave their trunks and animals to the attendants. Draco was about to hand over his belongings when Mad-Eye roughly grabbed his shoulder. 

"Malfoy," the retired Auror hissed in Draco's ear, "We'll take care of that. You get yourself on the train before you're spotted." 

Not wanting to argue with the gruff man, Draco hurried up the steps and began looking for a place to sit. Fred and George weaved by him, informing the blond that they had "business" to discuss with Lee Jordan when Hermione, Harry, and Ron walked up right behind him. 

"Is everywhere full?" Hermione asked, just as Ginny scooted past them to find Luna. 

"Not quite," Draco said, pointing to a door in front of them. "I think I saw an empty compartment just up there." 

Sure enough, Draco was correct, and the golden quartet took the last empty compartment to spare. As Ron, Harry, and Draco started to make themselves comfortable, Hermione stood awkwardly by the sliding door. 

"Are you not going to sit down?" Ron asked her. 

Draco raised an eyebrow at her when he noticed her nervous expression. Her behavior concerned him as he watched Hermione fidget with her hands and refuse to look at them. 

"Hermione, is something the matter?" Harry asked. 

"I… I forgot to tell you that I won't be joining you," Hermione stuttered. 

"What does that mean?" Ron asked. He crossed his arms and looked affronted by the statement. 

"It's just… the Prefects have a special cart they are supposed to be in at the beginning of the ride…." Hermione struggled to explain. She took a deep breath and finally raised her head to meet her friends' questioning gazes. "I shouldn't be gone long. An hour or so, maybe. It's so that the Head Boy and Head Girl can brief the other Prefects and then hand out rounds schedules." 

"Oh, that makes sense," Harry said nonchalantly before pulling out the Exploding Snap set that Tonks gave him for his birthday. 

"Yeah," Ron added as he opened a Chocolate Frog. "Go on and do your Prefect stuff." 

Hermione slowly turned to Draco. He had an impassive look on his face as he studied Hermione carefully. Was she nervous to tell them because she thought they would react poorly? True, the boys weren't overly enthused with Hermione getting the position when neither of them received the honor with her, so she must have deduced that they would be angry at her. Draco was mentally kicking himself for not thinking this through and gave her a kind smile. 

"It's okay, love," Draco assured her, "We will see you when you come back." 

Hermione gave him a grateful grin in return. As she turned around to leave the compartment, Hermione bumped right into Neville Longbottom. 

"Oh, Merlin. Sorry, Hermione," Neville apologized. 

"Hey, Neville," Ron and Harry greeted simultaneously. Draco noticed they were turning their attention back to the game when all the Gryffindors in the compartment did a double-take to look at Neville. They were all stunned to see that Neville looked… different! He grew a few inches, and his voice was a deeper tone than the squeaky, high-pitched vocals they remembered from the past. His face was cleared of any acne, and his hair was styled in a manner that looked straight out of Witch Weekly magazine that Mrs. Weasley liked to pretend she didn't read. Even his robes were more tailored and looked to be made of fine thread. Draco couldn't help but wonder who was this new Neville and what happened to him to… essentially glow-up?

Hermione quickly recovered from her misstep and took a step back from her classmate. She ducked her head to hide the flush of embarrassment of having her nose pressed to Neville's hard chest before she cleared her throat. "It's quite alright. Though, I am afraid I can't stay and chat. I'm one of the Gryffindor Prefects for Fifth Year and must be on my way." 

"That's just it," Neville replied. He tugged the flap of his robe forward to show off the red and gold pin shaped like a crest. Draco's jaw dropped when he saw the "Prefect" printed across the ribbon on the front. Neville beamed with pride as he addressed the compartment. "I'm the other Gryffindor Prefect!" He then spoke directly to Hermione, "I came to fetch you so that we could go to the Prefect's carriage together. You know, show a united front, or… something that that. That is… if you are okay with showing up with me." 

Draco relaxed a moment as he listened to Neville ramble uncomfortably. The bumbling and clumsy Gryffindor may have changed his looks and grown a bit over the summer, but he still lacked the self-assurance and self-confidence that was a notable trait for the House of Lions. Draco momentarily felt some sick sense of satisfaction in thinking that some things never change before he quickly banished the thought. He should feel proud of his dormmate for receiving such an honor. Neville may not be the smartest or the most courageous in their house, but he had many qualities that made him a good leader. He was patient and assisted the younger students when they asked for help, an essential skill for a Prefect. More importantly, Neville was approachable, kind, and respected the rules. He was very much the opposite of how Draco, Ron, and Harry behaved. Although Hermione had grown more into following her own moral code versus the school rules, she was still the top student in their year (though still debatable, for Draco still liked to believe they were tied) and worked so hard to achieve this award. She deserved it, and Draco was proud of her. However, Draco was not tolerating how Longbottom was looking at his witch with heart-like eyes and red ears. 

"Oh," Hermione gaped at Neville like a fish out of water before finding her voice. "You're Prefect with me? That's…" 

"Unexpected. I know," Neville agreed with a self-deprecating chuckle. "Believe me. I nearly fainted when I got the letter. My gran was beside herself but immensely proud. She said I was finally following in my father's footsteps and bought me all new robes for the occasion." 

"Yes, we can see that," Draco said a little more tersely than necessary. Everyone in the compartment moved their gaze onto the blond, making Draco squirm under the attention. He had no idea how he would play this off when Ron came to his defense. 

"You look good, Mate. Smashing even." Ron's compliment toward Neville immediately shifted the mood in the compartment, leaving Draco's snide remark behind in the past. However, Draco didn't have time to breathe a sigh of relief when he heard Neville offer to escort Hermione. Gritting his teeth, Draco watched as Neville sophisticatedly held out his arm to Hermione to take and politely led her down the hallway. The act alone left him seething. That should be him… with his witch on his arm going to the Prefect's carriage. Not Longbottom. 

Ron and Harry noticed how Draco was glaring out of the glass at Neville as if the blond was willing their classmate's hair to catch fire. The two friends shared a smirk before returning to their game. 

"Man, who knew! Neville…a Prefect," Ron said causally. 

Draco grunted in response, not noticing Harry bringing his hand up to cover a laugh that threatened to escape from the dark-haired wizard's mouth. When Harry regained his composure, he gave Ron a mischievous look before adding, "He's certainly changed, that's for sure. In fact, he sounded like he was being sweet on our Hermione. Didn't he Ron?"

"What?!" Draco snapped. The blond shook his head and softened his voice. "Absolutely not. He was not being… sweet… on her! That's just… impossible. Neville isn't sweet on anyone." 

"Don't know, mate," Ron said. 

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Draco was going to be sick. Or perhaps he wanted to hit something? Maybe he was going to throw up while punching something at the same time. Either way, he couldn't believe that this was happening to him. True, Hermione had been Viktor Krum's date last year to the Yule Ball, but Krum hadn't actually been interested in his witch. Draco didn't figure that out until after Dumbledore placed him in a stasis charm and stuck him at the bottom of the Black Lake for Krum to find. But that was beside the point. The question still remains, when did Neville start taking an interest in Hermione? 

"He did take Ginny to the ball last year. She said he was a proper gentleman and an excellent dancer," Harry added with a hint of a jest in his voice. 

"Doesn't Hermione like to dance," Ron retorted with the same tone as Harry's. "I'm sure they will have loads of time to talk and get to know one another, what with having to do rounds and such."

"And with all those hours, alone in the corridors…." Harry trailed off, finally noticing how red Draco was getting. He smirked at his friend before turning back to Ron, "They might even share a midnight dance a time or two." 

"That is never going to happen," Draco spat. He bit his tongue, fighting the urge to tell Harry and Ron why Hermione and Neville would never be an item because she was already dating him! Nevertheless, the damage was done, and Draco couldn't get the image out of his mind. His fist curled so tightly that his knuckles popped when he thought about Hermione and Neville walking by themselves in the corridors late at night. 

Maybe Longbottom would hold out his arm for her to take as they stroll through the empty hallways like he did just now. 

Rationally, he knew Hermione was not interested and would never break his heart by seeing another wizard while in a relationship with him. But the anger and jealously was getting the best of him as he kept picturing the two just as Harry and Ron described. 

"It might," Ron continued to tease.

"You never know," Harry agreed with a slight smirk at the corner of his mouth. 

Not able to take anymore, Draco abruptly stood up. "I'm going to find the loo," he told them testily before slamming the glass door shut. 

Ron and Harry shared a knowing look before they busted out laughing. The two carried on, fueled by the high of their prank until Harry had to wipe tears from his eyes as Ron had to gasp for air. 

"Oh, Mate. That was too easy," Ron chuckled. 

"I think," Harry paused to take a few breaths and steady himself. He came down from his 'laugh-attack' and gave his friend one final chuckle before continuing, "we certainly riled him up." 

There was a comfortable silence between the two friends before Ron gave Harry a puzzling look. 

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"You don't think something is going on between Draco and Hermione, do you?" Ron questioned. 

Harry gave Ron a look of disbelief, "Mate, come on." 

"I'm serious," Ron said defensively. "Hermione looked nervous to tell us about her Prefect duty, and then Draco gets mad over the possibility of her dating someone?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "You are overthinking it, Ron. Those two have always been super close. Draco's probably just upset someone besides you and me will take time away from Hermione." 

"It's just…."

"Mate, seriously. Even if there were something between Hermione and Draco, which there isn't, they would tell us if that was the case."

"Would they?" Ron raised a skeptical eyebrow at his friend. 

"My point being, do you really want to know, or can you just let it go?" Harry asked. 

Ron thought for a moment before shaking his head. He let out a breath, "You're right."

Harry smirked, "I know."

"Git," Ron chuckled as he flicked a Bertie Botts Every Flavor Bean at him. 

With Seeker-like reflexes, Harry caught the candy one-handed. The dark-haired wizard cheekily popped the bean into his mouth. After chewing for a second, his face contorted in disgust, causing Ron to laugh. Harry grabbed a napkin and spat the candy out. "Mud flavor," Harry informed his friend, causing the redhead to laugh even louder. 

When Ron composed himself, he gave Harry a severe look. "I think I'm going to try out for the Quidditch team this year," he announced. 

Harry gave his friend a kind smile, "You should. We have two extra spots now that Oliver Wood and Alicia Spinnet have graduated. What brought this on?"

Ron shrugged. "I've always wanted to but didn't feel confident enough. Not like you and Draco. And since I'm not a Prefect, I figured I could spend my time practicing so that I'm ready for tryouts in a few weeks." 

Harry nodded in approval. "That's a great idea, Ron! Draco and I can even help you if you want." 

Ron smiled, "That would be awesome. Thanks, Harry." 

"Which position will you go out for?" Harry asked. 

"Keeper," Ron informed him. "That's the position I always played with family matches. I… I really think I can do this." 

It had been a while since Harry had played with Ron in a Weasley family friendly match, but Harry had no doubt in his mind that his friend would make the house team if he put his mind to it. The two Gryffindors eventually turned their attention back to the game and put whatever bizarre interaction between Draco and Hermione was out of their minds for the rest of the ride.

____________________

Hermione didn't exactly know what to expect when she and Neville made it to the Prefect's carriage. Instead of the individualized compartments that they were used to sitting in, the entire carriage had more of an open concept with tables and benches spread around the space like a classroom.  

"Ah, there are our new Gryffindor Prefects," Cedric Diggory welcomed them. 

"Oh, hello, Cedric," Hermione said with a smile. "Congratulations on becoming Head boy." 

Cedric returned the smile and nodded at her. "Thanks, Hermione. If you and Neville wouldn't mind sitting with the rest of the fifth years, Julia and I will get things started here in a moment." 

Hermione and Neville waved towards Julia Pleasant, a Ravenclaw who had been chosen for Head Girl, as they took their seats. They were greeted by Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil for Ravenclaw, who were sitting next to Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott for Hufflepuff. This, unfortunately, placed Hermione and Neville next to the Slytherin Prefects, who were Blaise Zabini and Daphne Greengrass. Hermione awkwardly took her seat and made her back ramrod straight as she glanced over to the blonde girl in silver and green next to her. Daphne had an intriguing history with her friend group, for she betrayed her own house to help Draco, Ron and Harry figure out who the Heir of Slytherin was in their second year. She also was childhood friends with Draco and retained a distant yet cordial friendship with him throughout their time at Hogwarts. Hermione didn't know the girl well and was more inclined not to trust her, but the more she interacted with the Slytherin, the more Hermione was beginning to warm up to her.

Interestingly enough, Daphne was reading the Quibbler, of all the things! Given Daphne's reputation as a Pureblood and member of a Sacred Twenty-Eight family, Hermione did not expect the Slytherin to be reading such an unconventional text with a reputation for attracting an equally eccentric audience. Hermione wondered how Luna Lovegood, whose father was the Chief Editor, would respond to hearing that the Greengrass' were subscribers. 

Daphne suddenly raised an eyebrow and shifted in her seat a bit. "Granger," she said, not looking up from her newspaper. 

"Greengrass," Hermione replied. Upon hearing the tense greeting, Blaise couldn't help but snort at the two girls. Daphne rolled her eyes at her house partner while Hermione shot him an icy look. "Something you would like to say, Zabini?" she asked coldly. 

Blaise snorted again and shook his head. "Nothing in particular." 

"Pity," Daphne deadpanned, "It must be quite amusing for you to make that despicable noise twice." 

"And I dare say you have become quite charitable with your attention since I last saw you, Daphne," Blaise retorted. 

Daphne was not fazed by the insult and simply sighed before rolling her eyes again. "If you mean to say that I am mature enough to handle my new position, then yes. We are Prefects now, Blaise. Which means we need to act like role models and leave behind childish squabbles." 

Blaise, wisely, kept his mouth shut and didn't say anything further to the rest of the group. Thank goodness for Hufflepuffs, for Hannah and Ernie were able to change the direction of the conversation and keep it lighthearted. After about 20 minutes of what Hermione deemed "absolute torture," Julia and Cedric called the room to order. 

"Hello, everyone! Now that we are all here, we can finally begin. My name is Julia Pleasant, and I'll be your Head Girl this year." 

"And my name is Cedric Diggory. I'll be alongside Julia as Head Boy." 

"First and foremost, Cedric and I want to congratulate you on becoming or retaining your position as Prefect for your house. This is a high honor and will look extremely favorable on your resumes upon graduation," Julia informed them. Her smile brightened when she saw some people agreeing with her statement. 

"As your Head Boy and Head Girl, we are mostly in charge of supervising your rounds schedule. However, we are also here to help you if you have any questions about your duties," Cedric added. 

Julia nodded, "With that being said," she trailed off. The Head Girl flicked her wand, producing some writing on a chalkboard. "Let's go over your duties." 

Cedric and Julia spent around 45 minutes going over each responsibility or expectation they could encounter as Prefects. No topic was missed from appropriate punishments and fairly awarding or deducting house points. They also provided valuable examples of when it was best to take a student directly to the Hospital Wing and when it was best to notify a teacher. Seeing these put Hermione somewhat at ease as the lecture closed out with Cedric and Julia passing out the schedules. They concluded the speech by providing the location of the Head Dorms and the Prefects' bathroom password, which Hermione was so looking forward to using. 

"Now, for those in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, a copy of the Monthly Rounds Schedule will be posted on your house board should you lose your individual copy. For those of you in Gryffindor and Slytherin, we will coordinate with the Seventh Year Prefects to get that information to your house," Julia said as she handed Hermione her schedule. 

"Julia and I will have the next set of schedules finalized about three days before the new month starts. So, it's important to let us know as soon as possible your availability and any conflicts you might have," Cedric tacked on.  

"Furthermore, it is your responsibility to get your copy of the schedule from us." Julia made eye contact with all the Fifth Year Prefects, "We will not track you down. Understand that missing your appointed time will result in a verbal warning. The second missed round will then result in a House Point penalty. If you miss three in one term, consequences can include detention or revocation of your badge." 

Having finished handing out his portion of the schedules, Cedric looked around the room and tried to put everyone at ease with the easy smile he was known for. "Though this isn't to be taken for granted, Julia and I understand that life happens, and you may need a round covered. If that is the case, then please notify us that you need coverage, and we can help find you someone to take your place. Communicating with us will not result in a mark against you." 

Julia and Cedric looked at each other, silently asking if anything else needed to be said before the two addressed the room. 

"That's it!" Cedric said.

"Note that some of you are already scheduled to start your rounds on the trains. If you have any questions or want to talk, please don't hesitate to come on up. Otherwise, you can go back to your friends," Julia affirmed. 

It was no surprise that Daphne and Blaise immediately left the compartment with a few other Prefects at the dismissal. Hermione was studying her schedule when she heard Neville make a disappointed noise next to her. 

"I don't see us paired anywhere for the month of September," the Gryffindor said. 

Hermione hummed her acknowledgment. As she was studying the schedule, she noticed that she was paired with Daphne Greengrass for a few of her rounds but that most of them were with older students. She silently deduced this was so that the older students could teach the new Prefects the "tricks of the trade," so to speak. 

"Look, Neville," Hannah piped up, "We have a round later this week -floors four through seven. That should be exciting."

Neville gave the Hufflepuff a kind smile, "For sure." 

"Well, I, for one, felt that was an in-depth presentation and have no questions," Hermione announced as a way to disengage herself from the group. As she was walking towards the carriage exit, she heard Neville call out to her. 

"Please, allow me to walk you back to your compartment," the Gryffindor asked. 

Hermione forced a smile. "That's very kind of you, Neville, but I can find the way. Thank you." She felt a little guilty as Neville's face fell slightly from her rejection, but her classmate recovered and told her he would see her later that night to help escort the first years to the Common Room. 

"Hermione, if you don't mind, could I have a moment," Cedric called out. 

Trying to keep her annoyance from being delayed in check, Hermione turned to address the Head Boy, "Of course, Cedric. What can I do for you?" 

The Hufflepuff shot Neville a look that caused her housemate to make himself scarce. Once they were alone. Cedric leaned closer and lowered his voice. "How's Harry doing?"

Hermione reeled back, giving the older student a look of disbelief. "How do you mean?"

"I just… I didn't get to see him with everything that went down after the third task. And I'm not blind. I do read the Daily Prophet and see what they are printing about Dumbledore and Harry's claims… about You-Know-Who," Cedric admitted. Needless to say, Hermione was stunned. She was completely at a loss for words when Cedric continued. "I just… can you let him know that he can stop by the Head Dorm if he wants to talk? Anytime." 

"Why are you telling me this and not Harry?" Hermione asked suddenly. "If you are so concerned about him, then maybe you should be having this conversation with him and not me. Better yet, you could make a statement to the Prophet with what you saw that night."

Cedric winced a bit at Hermione's harsh tone before he let out a breath he had been holding in. "I can't. Believe me, I wanted to, but Fudge threatened my family. This term, I have an internship with the Department of Magical Games and Sports, which the Minster threatened to take away if I talked to the press. He also threatened to sack my dad and do everything in his power to make it so that he was unemployable." 

"I'm sorry," Hermione replied sincerely. Once again, it was disheartening to hear the Minister abuse his power as such. The man was playing right into the denial and paranoia game being weaved by Lucius Malfoy. And if Cedric's account was anything to go off of, it sounded like Fudge was using every ounce of sway he had not only to try and discredit Dumbledore and Harry but those associated with the Headmaster and proclaimed savior of the Wizarding World. In one of the Order meetings, she remembered that Kingsley had approached Amos Diggory to join the cause, but the man refused the offer due to being under stricter scrutiny from Fudge. She had no idea that extended to possible sabotage of Cedric's future. 

He gave her a sad smile, "We are all trying to do the best we can in a mad world." 

"That's surprisingly wise for a Hufflepuff," she teased, trying to lighten the mood. 

Cedric laughed, "I'm known to bestow nuggets of wisdom every once and a while." He paused in contemplation for a moment before raising his head. "Do you think Harry would talk to me? Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if he never wanted to speak to me again after not writing him all summer. I'm sure he has drawn less than savory conclusions about my behavior." 

Hermione's eyebrows raised in surprise. She knew Harry was keen on wanting to 'join the fight' with the Order, but could his lack of correspondence with Cedric also contribute to his foul mood? Were the two former champions closer than she realized? Hermione just assumed Harry didn't write because one, Hedwig had owlets, and two, Mad-Eye advised them the Ministry was monitoring the Owl post and to use it as little as possible when communicating. Regardless of the reasoning, these were questions she would have to file away for later because the subject in question was waiting for her reply. She cleared her throat. "For what it's worth, I don't think he hates you. Harry is very forgiving, and if you just explain what happened, he would be more than understanding," 

He nodded, "I think I will have to borrow some of that Gryffindor courage." 

Hermione chuckled, "Do it sooner rather than later. And yes, I'll relay the offer about visiting the Head Dorm." 

"Thank you, Hermione," Cedric said before being called away to help Julia. 

When Hermione finally got back to the compartment, she immediately noticed Draco was tense while Harry and Ron hounded her for the Prefect gossip. She relayed who all were selected to represent the fifth years and told Harry about her encounter with the Head Boy. Harry's face dropped a little at hearing Cedric's name, but he didn't say anything about the Hufflepuff's offer to talk. Hermione let it go, thinking that Harry needed some time to process the proposal and see if the two could patch whatever relationship broke under the sign of the times. 

Before long, the students were at Hogwarts. Hermione helped the first years off the train and guided them towards Professor Grubbly-Plank (who the quartet knew was filling in for Hagrid as he was on a mission for the Order). At the same time, Harry, Draco, and Ron got into their robes and utilized the carriages that transported the students from the Hogsmeade train station up towards the castle. Once in the Great Hall, they sat down and waited for the sorting to commence. Like every year, McGonagall swiftly sorted all the terrified first years into their proper houses. For each Gryffindor they earned, the quartet tried to clap enthusiastically to provide a warm welcome to their new home. Once everyone was placed at their house tables, Dumbledore took to the podium to begin the start of term announcements before the feast began. Draco was mildly tuning out the Headmaster, for they were the same warnings every year when he perked up at hearing the staff changes. He made eye contact with a woman dressed in a ghastly hot pink skirt-suit, who gave him quite the sinister smile that made his stomach drop. He remembered this woman quite well from a few parties hosted by his parents at the Manor but couldn't precisely recall her name. The last time she had been invited was New Year's Eve when Draco was nine years old. The short woman, also dressed in an all-pink gown, had gotten very drunk and rudely scolded Draco simply for being present at the event, not knowing he was the hosts' son. When Narcissa Malfoy witnessed this, she had sworn never to invite the toad-like woman again.  

"This year, we have two changes in staff. While our beloved Care of Magical Creatures professor is on leave, Professor Grubbly-Plank has graciously come out of retirement to fill in until Professor Hagrid can return. Furthermore, I would like to welcome this year's new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Ms. Dolores Umbridge. Good Luck, Professors, and may we all have a successful term."

As was customary, polite applause filled the room when Dumbledore finished an introduction. The Headmaster continued with his beginning of term information when there was a distinct hem hem that resounded through the Great Hall. Everyone in the room froze before simultaneously turning their attention towards the new Professor Umbridge. The Defense professor, who was much shorter than Draco remembered, slowly stood up from her seat at the head table and walked around to the front of the room. Her kitten heels clicked across the floor, making a foreboding echo as she approached the center and addressed the room. 

"Thank you for those kind words, Headmaster," she said in a high-pitched, sickly-sweet voice that made Draco want to cringe. He instantly felt a wave of discomfort wash through him as Umbridge continued her remarks. 

"It is lovely to see all your bright, happy faces smiling up at me. I'm sure we're all going to be very good friends." 

Everyone appeared to be in shock and did not say anything regarding the interruption, for no one ever dared to disrupt the Headmaster when he was speaking. But leave it to Fred and George to break the tension first at the Gryffindor table. The twins shared a look and whispered, "That's unlikely," when Umbridge made her comment about being friends. 

"The Ministry for Magic has always been concerned for the care of Hogwarts’ students and the quality of their education. We fear that the rare gift of which you are born with may come to nothing if not nurtured in the proper manner and preserved through the ancient customs that have been passed down through generations. The tutelage of young witches and wizards is of vital importance for the advancement and survival of our great and glorious community." Umbridge paused here for a moment to allow the importance of her speech to sink in. Draco squirmed in his seat while Hermione's mouth had drawn into a thin line across her face. Ron was looking at the woman in pink, confused by her 'sentiments' when Harry hardened his expression at her.