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Chapter Text

"Welcome to the first class and inauguration of Charms Synthesis. This is the first year that the course will be taught and practiced for second-years at Hogwarts," Draco Malfoy pridefully announces. "I will be teaching you how to take the most basic of spells and turn them into your own." He slowly paces back and forth with his eyes on the ground and a hand in his pocket. His whiteish blonde hair is perfectly disheveled, lightly gelled and swept to the side. He's wearing a white button up dress shirt with the sleeves pushed up. A plain dark emerald tie hangs around his neck paired with black slacks and shoes.

The classroom is shaped in a dome-like setting with cobblestone walls and concrete floors. A string of lit candles line the circumference, and a natural source of lighting emits from the see-through glass ceiling overhead. A large screen, similar to a muggle's television, harmoniously levitates next to the teacher's podium. Hogwarts had slowly implemented modern day technology into their schooling over the years. There were many benefits to be had when infusing magic and the ever-emerging field for muggles. The advanced method of teaching and brand-new professor held a promising outlook for the progression of creating uniquely gifted wizards and witches.

Three long months of extensive training and modifications to Draco's lifestyle had come to fruition. Not only had he taken on the role of teaching the self-invented class, but he had also reinstated the position as Head of Slytherin. He was exhausted, and his temper was put to the test multiple times. In the first couple of months of training he managed to balance his duties with ease. However, his lack of sleep and overachieving commitment had begun to catch up with him.

Draco spent most of his holiday doing what he loved most; altering spells and charms to one's advantage. It had become his own personal craft, leading to endless innovations and a very unique expertise. McGonagall suggested he collaborate with Professor Flitwick, Head of Ravenclaw and seasoned Charms teacher, on the emerging field. The Ravenclaw was impressed with the Slytherin's intellectual advancement for his age. Flitwick had always encouraged his students to experiment with their magic, so the pair saw the immediate potential for their newly shared course. A textbook the size of a small magazine was orchestrated and dispersed to the students with the intention to grow over time.

"Some charms will be used for defensive measures; although most likely never used," Draco advises. "Others will be of convenience; utilizing each spell as a fusion of your desires, if you will." Faint gasps and whispers are heard throughout the classroom as he continues to pace the area. "The rest is left for sheer entertainment; the fundamental essence of magic deserves recognition, which is too often neglected."

The professor stops at his podium to take an elongated sip of coffee and scan of the classroom. Each student is visibly invested, leaning forward in their seats with widened eyes. "Professor Flitwick and I will be alternating between ideology and demonstration. As you are aware, you are responsible for Mr. Flitwick's course; Charms Synthesis Theory, on Tuesday's and Thursday's prior to this class. He will be holding an emphasis on the study of the fusions found in your textbook, while I will be exemplifying such spells. Depending on the criteria for that week, he and I will interchange into each other's courses when deemed necessary." While taking another pause to ingest more caffeine and gauge his audience, a girl in the third-row eagerly raises her hand.

"Question!" The young woman dressed in Ravenclaw robes rests one elbow against the desk with the other hand eagerly raised in the air. She has porcelain white skin, golden blonde hair, and blue eyes. Before he has the chance to answer she states, "You're Draco.. Draco Malfoy, aren't you?"

"Thank you for the introduction, Ms.- what was it?"

"Weasley. Victoire Weasley, sir."

"Of course a bloody Weasley," Draco hisses under his breath turning his back to them. He regains momentum of his pace and replies, "Your observation is correct, Ms. Weasley; but you will all refer to me as Professor or Mr. Malfoy."

"Is it true.. what they've written in the papers?"

With his back still turned to them, he aggravatingly squeezes his eyes shut. "Not the entirety of it."

"Are you really a-"

"I am your professor," he barks spinning on his feet. "Not a celebrity, and not what the media depicts me to be. I refuse to attend to any rubbish regarding my personal life."

Draco's meticulous defense instantly sends his student into retraction as she sinks in her seat with interlaced fingers against the table. The professor's eyes drag to the young man seated at the table adjacent to her. He has a deep side part and long choppy bangs that sweep across his forehead. One of his hazel colored eyes is intentionally hidden beneath a pile of royal blue locks. Draco's face softens at the recognizable crooked smile on the boy's face. He almost hadn't recognized Teddy; only three months had passed, yet he had grown an inch taller, along with his freshly died hair, and his face had maturely thinned out.

The Hufflepuff does a quick head tilt to the Slytherin receiving a concise eyebrow raise in response. The familiar face motivates Draco to get back on track. Re-centering himself at the forefront of the classroom, he pulls out his wand from his back pocket. "Carrying on, then. A short demonstration."

With a sudden movement and aggressive gesture of his arm, he flicks his wrist at a fully capacitated bookshelf. A thunderous boom emits from his wand causing a mini explosion; each textbook perilously flung across the classroom. Most students yelp and duck for cover as he shouts, "Immobulus Tricio!"

As the books hurl across the classroom, Draco notices a boy from Slytherin neglecting to pay attention; distracted by the wrapper covering his pastry in hand instead. He points at the student from across the room and wordlessly slashes his wand in a downward motion before flicking it upward. A bright orange translucent trail of smoke fluidly expels from the tip of his wand smoothly slithering toward his target. With a precise double twirl of his wrist, the vapor wraps around the unwrapped muffin in the boy's hand. His expectant mouth is left wide open as it's forcefully ripped from his grasp. A rogue textbook comes flying toward his face soon thereafter.

With one last effortless flick of his wrist Draco timely freezes each spastic novel in place, the last one pausing just inches from the young Slytherin's nose. The boy yips as he lunges his bodyweight against the back of his seat and collapses to the floor. Laughs echo throughout the dome shaped room as his classmates emerge from beneath their desks.

Their attention is quickly deflected once they notice the airborne textbooks, 20 of them revolving ever so slowly in place, scattered across the classroom. As the bewitched novels remain on stand-by, the snatched pastry bolts toward the conductor of the charm.

Draco keeps his eyes concentrated on the incoming object as he shoves his wand back in place and nears his post. He catches the muffin like a fastball in his left hand. Immediately after, each book lures toward the front of the room as though his body was a magnet. They gracefully pile upon each other, one after the other, creating a neat stack on the podium before him.

The class breaks into a mixture of applause and snickers; impressed with the teacher's performance, and wildly entertained by the embarrassed, snackless Slytherin on the floor. Draco's vision alternates between the fresh treat and the agitated student beneath him before taking a bite. "Thank you for the biscuit, Mr.- what was it?"

"Goyle," he grumpily replies crawling back into his seat.

Now that Draco had a face to the name, he was able to recognize the boy's uncanny appearance to his best friend growing up; Gregory Goyle. He hadn't heard from the fellow Slytherin since the end of the Battle in the Room of Requirement. From his point of view, Gregory most likely retained the idealistic view that their Death Eater parents held. Therefore, he had no interest in maintaining a relationship with him.

"You and my father were best mates; Death Eaters, at that," Goyle mouths off with a smug expression. A few sharp inhales are heard at his defiant yet truthful commentary.

Draco thoughtfully tilts his head to the side tossing the muffin up and down in hand. His eyes remain perilously steadfast on the Slytherin as he towers over him. "My apologies, Mr. Goyle, for my lack of recognition. I was under the impression that your father was too thick to reproduce."

The professor takes one last bite retrieving his wand. "I believe this is yours." He holds the bitten pastry in one hand as the other does a quick flick of the wrist. He returns his wand to his back pocket while concentrating on the levitated muffin above his palm. He lowers his hand and centers it in front of Goyle who appears more than willing to eat his leftovers. As he reaches to grab it, it abruptly liquidates mid-air. A mini waterfall spills through Draco's fingers and crashes across Goyle's desk onto his lap. His classmates snicker; apprehensive of the unpredictable teacher yet extraordinarily entertained. The humiliated Slytherin whimpers as he nervously pats his freshly soaked slacks.

"Friendly reminder, you lot," Draco announces with a disingenuous smirk. "As your professor I expect nothing less, other than for you to submit to my requests. Unless, of course, you'd prefer I turn them into demands." The remaining light-hearted giggling comes to an immediate close as the class falls deathly silent. "However, I would not advise such, as it'd be in your best interest to reside on my good side."

With his face tilted downward, his eyes scour the visibly intimidated crowd. "I'm a man of second chances. Therefore, I shall repeat myself: Any hearsay regarding my personal life is strictly forbidden," he harshly lectures through pressed teeth. "Understand?"

The group of adolescents hesitantly glance to each other with enlarged eyes. After receiving a head nod from everyone, other than those who were too stunned to make any sudden movements, Draco concludes, "Class dismissed."

Later That Afternoon

Knock knock.

Knock knock knock.

"Hello?"

The knob to Draco's office slowly revolves causing a loud creak once the door is fully open. The piercing sound ignites a sharp inhale as his eyes flutter open against the back of his forearms. He lethargically lifts his head from his folded arms rested upon an opened textbook. He repetitively blinks so as to push away the grime from his eyes and gain proper focus. He simultaneously rubs the back of his palm beneath his lower lip, lightly grimacing at the trail of saliva now spread across the top of his hand.

"I.. brought you coffee," the hesitant soft voice states from the hallway. "Seems as though my premonition of your status has proven to be correct."

Draco's head snaps toward the door with lively eyes as he inspects Hermione Granger perched against the doorway. She holds a hot beverage in each hand with a bookbag swung over her shoulder. Her hair is in loose waves and she has on matching wine toned lipstick and heels. She's wearing a fitted collared white shirt with the sleeves at three quarter length. In contrast to the color of Draco's house, a dark plain maroon tie hangs from her neck paired with a black pencil skirt.

Draco gazes at her for far longer than intended entranced by her beauty. She peers back at him with sparkling brown eyes and a subdued smile. Based off his lack of response, Hermione takes initiative and occupies the seat at his desk across from him. "Well, you look like rubbish."

Gelled pieces of disheveled blond hair messily fling in every direction across his forehead. His dark rimmed lower eyelids and paler than normal complexion gives off the appearance of a sleep deprived ghost. And yet, he was still remarkably handsome.

"Always a pleasure, Granger," Draco grumbles turning his attention back to his heavy head. His fingers interlace through his hair with a firm grip to prevent it from tilting downward.

After pushing the piping hot cup of coffee closer to him, she reclines in her seat with an entertained smirk. The strong aroma instantly perks him up as his hand snatches the drink. He takes a hefty sip as though he were critically parched, regardless of the fact that it burns the shit out of his tongue.

The telling smile of endearment on Hermione's face is promptly dropped once she notices he had been sneakily observing her from the corner of his eye. "So, how was your first day?" she diverts.

"Threatened the bloody twits into obedience," he states dryly. "I'm illustrated as quite the celebrity; now I understand why Potter is so insufferable." An uncontrolled giggle escapes her lips at his characteristic combativeness. "Amused, are you?" He leans his elbow against the table and uses his inner wrist as a pillow as his eyelids lower.

With a light head nod and smile she replies, "I anticipated your impending threats to the children.. on the first day, however; that's bloody impressive."

Hermione curiously examines the 5-inch textbook he's perched against. "Is that The Book of Charms & Spells?" she inquires with palpable envy in her tone. "That's Filius' annotated masterpiece! I haven't read it in years."

"Flitwick requested I review this. Perhaps I'll lend you the ludicrously tedious novel if I finish it by my 30th birthday." Draco frustratingly slams it shut, missing the tip of Hermione's eager finger by centimeters. "Thank you for the beverage," he states shortly. "Now if you don't mind; I have work to attend to."

"Very well, if you deem napping in the middle of the afternoon as working," she slickly replies tightly crossing her arms. After springing to her feet, she struts to his side of the desk demanding his full attention. She leans her bottom against the minimal surface space facing him. Perching herself on the table, she casually points a finger behind herself slamming the door shut for privacy. There is less than a foot of space separating them, and the scent of vanilla and jasmine wonderfully radiates from her skin.

Draco's icy blue eyes light up as he glances up to her face and then back to her slim waist and curvy hips at eye level. Crossing one leg over the other, Hermione interlocks her fingers over her knees and playfully tilts her head to the side. "You know, Draco; I advise you get in as much work as possible before the end of the week, seeing as you won't have the opportunity to do so Friday night."

Officially awake and fully alert, he lounges in his chair with arms folded behind his head. "Granger; the obnoxious teacher's pet, advising myself to hush aside homework? And for what, exactly?" The mocking of her, an innate defense mechanism since he was 11, compartmentalizes his overpowering temptations.

Hermione raises her eyebrows with a lightly lowered jaw and smile. "Well I'd prefer being a loathsome teacher's pet over a spoiled little brat; such as you're being in this very moment."

Draco reclines in his seat with furrowed brows. "As much as I'd enjoy having my temper further tested, I'd rather you-"

"Hush aside homework for what, you ask?" she testily cuts him off. "You will be taking me to dinner on Friday evening."

"Is that right?" His judgmental eyes critique her with fingers still intertwined behind his head. "I was under the impression that you were opposed to the notion of our involvement until we were properly adjusted."

"Precisely. It was most beneficial to wait until we were individually settled at Hogwarts; for the purpose of your training, and for the concentration of my curriculum."

"You're implying that the first bloody day of term establishes us as settled, then?" he disputes. "Do I appear settled, Granger?"

"No.. no you do not," she sternly replies with the look of disappointment. "Perhaps you're right, then." Readjusting the strap of her bookbag, she reaches for her coffee as her heels meet the floor.

Draco's hand grabs hers faster than she could the coffee. "I apologize," he mutters. "I'm dreadfully sleep deprived." His eyes ricochet back and forth mirroring his jumbled thoughts. "I've anticipated being in your presence for the last three bloody months. In fact.." He grabs the ridiculously lengthy textbook and whips it open to where he had left off. "I could utilize your assistance with this rubbish, if you wish to stay."

"Brilliant," Hermione chirps with a cheery tone and dramatic change of poise. "Now for starters.." She snags the textbook from his grasp propping it open on her lap. "It was rather daft, starting on chapter 4. I strongly suggest beginning with chapter 7."

Draco resumes his positioning from before, fully reclined in his desk chair. He glances up to her, his lips curled at the sides. She catches him gazing at her and stops her sentence. "What?" he snaps.

"Nothing, it's just.." Hermione's eyes brighten as she says, "It's lovely to see you smile."

Chapter Text

That Friday

"Piss off, Potter," Draco seethes. He briskly strides down the hall alongside his comrade holding a briefcase in one hand and his faithful mug full of coffee in the other. He's wearing a basic black button up and green tie, while his counterpart is dressed in a white dress shirt and scarlet tie. "It's too early for your nonsense."

"Too early to compliment the events you've arranged for my best mate?" Harry counters with a slick smile. He juggles his briefcase, a stack of books, and his invisibility cloak as he tries to keep up with Draco's accelerated pace. "All I'm expressing is that the effort you've put into this evening is bloody adorable."

"Do not state that term," the Slytherin demands, pointing a finger in the Gryffindor's face as they walk. "The entirety of my actions have not, and never will be referred to as adorable."

"I beg to differ, Malfoy. An outdoor supper overlooking Wilshire, top of the line chefs, ridiculously priced champagne.." Harry talks in a high-pitched mocking voice in between snickers. "Stargazing.. Snogging.."

Draco fights back a suppressed smirk; irritated yet, unbeknownst to himself, growing a soft spot for the primary victim of his childhood bullying. "Aren't you and Weasley best mates? You're more sadistic than I originally thought," he diverts.

"Hermione is equally important to me. All I wish is for her to be happy in life," he replies, his tone returning to normal. "And if for some ungodly reason you fulfill that, then you have my blessing to court her."

"Would you just shut it already?" Draco protests through clenched teeth. He stops in place swinging an arm with a pointed finger behind them. "Fancy to advise the entire bloody staff while you're at it?" He resumes his pace as he mutters, "Plus.. it's intended to be a surprise.."

"See? Bloody adorable," Harry taunts from behind with a cheesy smile.

Despite Harry's merciless mockery, nothing could take away from the extreme anticipation and excitement for the evening's pre-planned events. Draco instructed his staff to orchestrate a romantic picnic near the Malfoy Manor overlooking the endless valleys and rural landscaping. The specific location, adjacent to his mansion, was an area that he frequented as a child. It was his escape for whenever he sought a peaceful, clear frame of mind. He never had the desire to share such an intimate location shaped around his tormented past with another woman. However, as with many components, Hermione brought out a different, vulnerable side to the complex young man.

Upon their arrival, Draco taps his wand twice against the doorknob and unlocks his office. Harry rams his shoulder against the door that was purposefully and unsuccessfully closed in his face.

To their surprise, someone had already been patiently waiting at his desk. The boy with sapphire hair promptly stands to his feet once they enter.

"Teddy?" Harry inquires, placing the overflowing objects in his arms onto an empty chair. "How'd you get in here?"

Teddy anxiously fidgets with the strap of his black backpack inundated with an assortment of British punk bands pins. "Hi Harry. Oh, and Alohomora," his godson explains.

"That spell is not meant to break into other people's private sectors," Harry lectures. "We've discussed this.."

"I know, I'm sorry. I just.." He neglects to look at Draco as he adds, "I've really needed to speak with Mr. Malfoy, okay?"

As the professors exchange a quick perplexed look, Draco uneasily drags his feet to his desk chair and takes a seat. He curiously looks to the young Hufflepuff waiting for him to take initiation of the conversation.

"Did you have a good holiday?" Teddy asks solemnly, his eyes on the floor.

Draco's eyebrows lower as he responds, "Yes, yes I suppose. And yourself?"

"It was good," he replies shortly. "But you know, I'm having trouble with something."

"In regards to the homework?"

"No.. not the homework." Teddy temporarily pushes the dark blue hair from his eyes before it naturally resumes placement. "I've been having trouble referring to you as my professor all week."

"I'm not certain I understand," Draco states quietly. "Can you elaborate?"

"I mean, you are my professor and all.. but.." Teddy scuffs the bottom of his converse along the concrete as he gathers his cluttered thoughts. "My grandmum told me.. she-" He pauses as he finally raises his face. He glances to Harry before peering at Draco with stern eye contact. "Look, I know you're my cousin alright?"

Draco shoots Harry a speculative glimpse who shrugs his shoulders with the look of genuine confusion. "She told you, did she?" The Slytherin's tone is impassive yet severe.

"I'll just.." Harry points his thumb behind him with an uncomfortable smirk. "I'll see the both of you in class."

"No. You can stay," Teddy states in almost a demanding manner, as he turns his attention back to Draco with arms tightly folded. "Harry always tells me that you're busy. But I'm your family, and I didn't see you once over break."

The anger in his voice drives the sensation of being punched in the stomach, instantly knocking the wind out of him. Draco wished he could tell him the truth, ever so badly; the honest reasoning as to why he was unwillingly, heavily restrained from seeing his second cousin over summer.

But his hands were simply tied.

"I apologize, Theodore." It's the only words he could come up with. He looks to Harry whose mouth is twisted to the side with sympathetic eyes for his godson. Other than the prior knowledge of their family ties, Harry was oblivious to the troublesome scenario that Draco was up against. It was strictly between himself and one other person. "Class is commencing soon."

"Yeah, whatever," he replies agitatedly. Teddy's hair promptly transitions to a blood red as he claims, "I was pretty thick for believing I would receive a different reaction from a bloke like you anyway." After giving half a wave he turns toward the door. "See you in class. Thanks for the talk, professor."

Soon thereafter the door to his office is slammed shut, sending a picture plunging from the wall and shattering across the floor.

An influx of students gradually enter the classroom laughing and chattering with one another. Draco stands with his elbows leaned against the podium, his fingers intertwined into a fist, and his chin rested on his hands. His undivided attention remains steadfast on the doorway anxiously awaiting Teddy's arrival.

Once he enters the room, Draco's saddened eyes follow him as he storms toward his assigned seat. Teddy aggressively throws the strap from over his shoulder and slams his bookbag to the desk. After shoving his bangs, back to a darkened blue color, to the side he plops in his seat and folds his arms over his bag. The students around him continue to mingle, even some trying to include him, but he doesn't bother.

"Good morning," Draco announces making his way from behind the podium. His disheartened eyes remain focused on his cousin who still refuses to look back at him. He pauses as an unexpected lump forms in his throat. He feels the eyes of every student in the classroom staring down the routinely composed professor. Safely turning back to his post, he inhales sharp breaths and keeps his watery eyes glued to the see-through dome shaped ceiling. Compartmentalizing his screaming, neglected emotions was one of Draco's specialties; all it took was a bit of focus.

But it was not working.

Perhaps he had lost the useful ability over time. Perhaps he had softened; weakened.

Or, perhaps, it was the first time that he had experienced a strong familial connection with someone he truly cared for. In such a scenario, the defense mechanism was useless.

Urgently regathering himself, Draco returns to the forefront with an authoritative demeanor. His eyes wander to the side of the room where Harry predictably stood. "We possess a special.. pardon me.. we possess a mediocre guest today."

"Bloody tosser." A sudden voice hisses from the corner of the room startling the students. Their heads turn toward the area that clearly no one was standing.

After an elongated eye roll, Draco strolls toward the muggle monitor with one hand in pocket. "Such guest will be assisting myself in today's demonstration. Now, then. Carrying on with this week's curriculum focusing on Accio.." He taps his wand on the screen that turns to the first slide; a well-constructed PowerPoint exhibiting terms and images in reference to the incantation. ".. the pinnacle of summoning charms.."

The rustling sound of papers and other objects being pulled from the students bags ricochets off the walls as they hurriedly prepare to take notes.

"Today's variation shall be focused on Revelio, as discussed in Professor Flitwick's course yesterday." With another tap, the following similarly constructed slide pops up. "This charm inhabits multiple purposes. However, we will solely be focusing on the revelation of hidden, enchanted inanimate objects."

As the students eagerly write down notes, Draco re-centers himself in the room allowing them time to finish. Once most faces are tilted upward and directed at their professor, he resumes his customized stance. His left arm rigidly aims at the corner of the room as his other arches over his head holding his wand.

Rotating so that he was now right foot forward, he lowers his left arm and lashes his right toward his target with the flick of his wrist. "Revelio Accio!" Light blue sparks shoot from the tip of the wand as the invisibility cloak is simultaneously stripped from Harry. He's casually reclined on top a pile of graded papers across Draco's desk with a smug expression. The class gasps in awe as the newly visible cloak is promptly summoned to the conductor. They clap and cheer as Harry leans his upper body forward with a light bow and smile.

Once the class settles down Draco demands, "Remove yourself from my desk, Potter."

"There's no need to be such a grouch, Malfoy. After all, I am assisting you. I suggest you learn a phenomenon called gratitude." The class wildly giggles at the notorious Hogwarts alumni. Their combative history was no secret to the children, and probably wouldn't be for generations to come.

With the invisibility cloak still in hand, Draco stiffly extends his arm and drops it to the floor. "I am forever grateful for your ingenious participation, Potter. Your strenuous assistance in this demonstration has been accomplished; now get out of my classroom."

The children's untamed laughter is abruptly brought to a halt as the muggle contraption suddenly projects a scratchy, high pitched noise. The monitor snowballs into a flurry of static across the screen. The appearance of a broken television was alien to a vast majority of the group of wizards.

"My grandfather owned one of these when I was a child." Victoire Weasley rises from her seat nearing the muggle technology. "You just have to smack it. It's simple, really," she insists. She viciously hits her palm against the side of the monitor as Draco idly watches her with a skeptical raised brow. Her face turns bright red as she turns to the professor. "Well.. I tried."

"Back to your seat, Ms. Weasley," Draco firmly instructs. As he turns his attention back to the monitor, it turns black as if it were rebooting.

"There! That should do it," Victoire pridefully announces as she returns to her seat. "I knew I would be able to-"

A series of colors and dark lines flash as another raucous buzzing sound projects from the screen. As the picture focuses, the outline of a person sitting and facing the camera settles. Everyone in the class remains tight lipped as they tensely watch on.

After one last blip, the monitor fixates on its intended focus. A hanging light overhead illuminates the darkened figure who's wearing a steel faced mask. It's similar to those that the Death Eaters wore, with additional engrained trails of bright red blood leaking from the eyeholes. Although the students were near infancy when Voldemort's followers were in their prime, it was apparent that they recognized the haunting design and similarity to the masks.

Most of the children are evidently spooked while others have a confused, crooked smile on their face. The professors tongue in cheek dynamic lead some to believe that this was some sort of elaborate joke being orchestrated between the two.

Unfortunately, this was no joking matter.

'Good morning, afternoon, or evening; in respect to your location. This telecast is being served on every television across the world; every country, every city, every household. I am proud to announce that the time of enlightenment has arisen.

To my comrades; my fellow purebloods. The sole unification that has prevailed as nothing more than a promise for years upon years has finally come to fruition. No longer shall we hide behind closed doors. No longer shall we remain hidden in alleyways and in the shadows. No longer shall we suffer simply due to the avoidance of our predominant power.'

Draco's trembling hand uncontrollably loses grasp of his wand as he stumbles backward over his feet. He firmly wipes his perspiring forehead and glances to Harry who already had his eyes dead set on him. The Gryffindor slowly shakes his head in disbelief to the Slytherin; the deeply concerned expressions on the professors' faces palpable.

The man with eloquent dialect confidently continues his speech:

'Firstly, I shall address the muggles; or what you may refer to yourselves as 'humans'. Muggles: an insignificant breed, a waste of space. The cockroaches in human form that have been catered to, intimidated, and avoided by the weakest of my wizarding brothers.

This planet requires to be run by the strongest; those of us who exhibit magical power. Magical power that can annihilate a city with the snap of a finger. But never fear, muggles, it is not only your kind that will become a dying breed.

There are a slew of us who obtain the audacity to refer to themselves as honorable witches or wizards while possessing muggle blood. For too long have half-bloods existed as equals; considering themselves as active participants of the wizarding community. Moreover, there is nothing quite as insulting than those who inhabit our world while obtaining 100% muggle blood. That's right; your time has finally come, filthy mudbloods.'

Draco temporarily blacks out as his body naturally leans against one of the student's desks behind him. He covers his eyes with a hand desperately holding onto consciousness. Teddy immediately bolts from his chair and rushes to his side. He retrieves Draco's wand from the floor and forces it into his grip. "Are you okay?"

Teddy's vision alternates between the television and the unresponsive professor. He leads him to an empty chair in the corner of the room and uses his wand to fill an empty cup with water. He offers it to his cousin, nervously glancing to his godfather who remains solidified in some sort of incredulous trance.

'L astly, to the children and young adults.'

Teddy bends at the knees and kneels beside Draco, his attention now fully alert on the telecast.

'My youthful comrades; you are indeed the living guarantee of the future of pureblood totality and pride. You are the blood of our blood, the flesh of our flesh, the continuation of our people. There is no need to feel ashamed of your admirable power; the weak shall no longer control you, and we will take what is ours.'

The riled-up students fearfully rise from their seats, some huddling together for comfort. Light chatter erupts throughout the room with the distinctive tone of sheer terror in their voice.

'You may be asking yourself what exactly shall transpire from this point onward. Allow me to elaborate. We are enlisting to complete what the Dark Lord initiated. Muggles, consider this as a concise notification to impending events. Our plan is simple; we shall begin taking over each city, one by one, as rightful owners of property that was once inhabited.

Each week we will expand our territory to accommodate our growing army. Resistance is futile, so I suggest to hold your loved ones tight and prepare for the new regime. Obey our lead, or escalate your suffering. We will not rest until this epidemic has finally been stripped from the planet.'

The class cries out and whimpers in desperation. Harry tries his best to calm them although he himself was critically disturbed. Teddy nervously licks his lips as he concernedly looks back to his cousin. Draco's taking short shallow breaths and is visibly struggling to calm his panic. Immobilized in place, his eyes remain equally paralyzed and focused on the screen. He's left stunned, shaky, and speechless; immensely suffering from symptoms of PTSD.

'And just exactly who are we, you may ask?' There's a dramatic pause as the telecaster slowly raises his mask. Long locks of whiteish blonde hair spills over his shoulders. 'We are The Purists'.

"Is that- is that.." Teddy stutters unable to spit out the words.

Draco clenches his jaw as his fists tighten. "My father."

Chapter Text

Later That Afternoon

The professors remain tight-lipped for the duration of containing and safely transporting the students from class to their designated dormitories. They were instructed to promptly return for an emergency meeting with the headmistress following their household duties.

Draco finds Harry who had been waiting for him in the hallway near the dungeons. The Slytherin keeps a noticeable reserved demeanor and quick pace as he passes the Gryffindor perched against a wall. Harry pushes his foot from against the cobblestone wall joining his side. "Are you.. are you going to be alright?" He apprehensively glances to Draco intermittently.

"Don't think I have the choice, do I?" he replies through gritted teeth. Taking the hint that he wasn't up for conversation, Harry remains silent for the remainder of their commute.

The conference hall was secretly hidden at the back of the dungeons underground. Every member of the staff is present other than Filch, who was instructed to ensure that the students remain in their dormitories on lockdown. Draco keeps his eyes on the floor as he follows his comrade to their rightful positioning; a separate sector at the front of the room with four chairs representing each Head of Household. The room remains tensely silent as the last two enter their quarters.

"I reckon that be all o' us," Hagrid announces. He proceeds to close the steel door that would normally take at least three people to move. Although he retired 7 years ago, the friendly giant still lived on campus and felt it was his rightful duty to assist the school that remained loyal to him ever since he was a child.

The floor lightly vibrates as Hagrid makes his way to an enormous chair at the side of the room. Professor McGonagall stands behind a podium in the same sector as the Heads of Households at the front of the room. A spacious circular table capacitates the remaining professors before them.

Draco's foot restlessly taps the ground as his fingers comb his hair, his eyes still lowered. The toxic adrenaline that was pumping through his veins is hardly containable. He rubs a hand over his mouth as he waits for the headmistress to address everyone.

"Good afternoon," Professor McGonagall states grimly. "I'm afraid we are under another state of attack. A new evil has come forth, and it is our upmost duty to protect the students and this school. Hogwarts will remain in session; however it is imperative to practice exceptional security measures and maintain pristine awareness. Now is not the time to fight back. Rather, we must ensure that we strengthen a positive environment for the students and for ourselves."

The professors nod in thorough compliance and diligence. This wasn't the first rodeo for those other than the four returning alumni. The tables had turned for Harry, Draco, Hermione, and Neville who would soon learn how to take the reins in an ambush themselves.

"The Heads of Households and myself shall provide extensive support to the students," the headmistress adds. Draco respectively raises his head and straightens his posture against the back of his seat. He interlaces his fingers in his lap and crosses his stiffened legs to quit the incessant tapping. "A strict curfew and transportation in between classes will be implemented and abided by."

Along with the other three heads of house, Draco replies with a concise nod. The longer McGonagall goes on, the further his attention remains and the closer his unkempt energy is bound to let loose. The overpowering nervous energy circulating through his body could settle no longer. He takes an opportune moment of silence as he impatiently declares, "Headmistress, if I may?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?"

"I apologize for interrupting." Balancing one leg against the other knee, he crosses his arms and tilts his head to the side. "I would like to offer my services and expertise on the matter. Possessing sole leadership would be most advantageous; for the protection of the students, and meticulous defense of Hogwarts."

The table of professors assertively whisper to one another shaking their heads in severe doubt. "While I admire your dedication and confidence, I'm afraid it is not that simple," McGonagall sternly replies. "This newfound evil is a strong entity that requires-"

"Requires what, exactly?" he hastily interjects. "Such evil is.. rather close to home, wouldn't you say, headmistress?"

"Now, yeh listen to me, Malfoy," Hagrid enters the conversation. "Just cuz 'yer a teacher now don't mean yeh run nothin'."

Draco suddenly stands to his feet fueled by the passion and ambition embedded in his bones. "I never implied that I dictated anything," he firmly insists with a baffled smile. Harry notably leans forward in his seat attentively listening to his colleague's plea. "Perhaps I'm simply the only one who's willing to face the facts; I refuse to negate my potential in assisting this bloody school."

McGonagall purses her lips with arms folded behind herself. She appears displeased at Draco's pushiness yet open to hearing what the young man had to say for himself. Signaling him to continue by bowing her head, she takes a couple steps to the side.

"Thank you, headmistress," Draco notes as he nears the platform. His hands clench either side of the podium so tight that the tips of his fingers whiten. "I may only be 28 years old, but within those 28 years I've lived two separate, vastly contradicting lives. I've lived the life I lead today; a noble man who fights for what he stands for.." He takes a purposeful pause to look to Hermione who gazes up at him with softened, illuminated brown eyes. ".. a man who fights for what he desires."

Hermione coyly tucks a lock of hair behind her ear before folding her arms and readjusting in her seat. One eyebrow is raised as she gazes past him with an evident unsettled demeanor.

"Additionally, I've lived as a terrorist. I possess awareness of how they operate; their strengths, their weaknesses." The eerie, passionate tone in his voice demands the ambiguous attention of the staff. "I'm not afraid to adhere to the sentiment that I was born into a racist family. Similarly, in case you have failed to notice, the new regime is being led by such." He confidently straightens his tie as he intricately scans the group of wizards before him. "Could you claim another candidate better fit than myself, to facilitate us out of this rubbish, or must I go on?"

The room of stunned professors glance to one another, most of their expressions brightening while significantly entertaining the idea. They would be in denial if they didn't acknowledge the young Slytherin as having the prerequisites to lead a successful army on Hogwarts front.

However, there were those that simply refused to face the facts.

"That's preposterous!" Every head turns to Hermione as she pounds her hands against the table. "You can't just.. just take on an elitist group of serial killers all alone!"

"He won't be," Harry suddenly announces seated from behind the podium. He boldly springs to his feet fully prepared to address the group. Every professor falls courteously silent for the well-respected 'Boy Who Lived'. "As you are all aware, Malfoy and I have a troubled history. However, as stated on numerous occasions, he himself is aware of his horrid past. The actions that have caused reprehensible, unforgivable tragedies.."

Draco's face twists as though he were sucking on a sour candy as his neck whips to Harry. They exchange a quick glance as the blonde reluctantly allows him to take the stage. "Brilliant method of endorsement, Potter," he hisses in his ear before taking a seat.

Harry tightly shuts his eyes and irritably bends his neck from side to side before proceeding. "Forgive me; I'm still wrapping my head around the fact that I'm standing up here, in front of you lot, defending Malfoy." He pauses with closed eyes and takes a deep breath before adding, "But the bloke has transformed over these years. He has the best intention at heart for this school, and for the students; I've seen it. If you don't believe him, then I will take full accountability. You can trust me on this matter; he is.. unfortunately, our fighting chance. Therefore, I vouch to assist him."

The professors warm up with brisk head nods. Hermione, on the other hand, shoots Harry a despondent glare while tightening the grip of her arms around herself.

"Thank you for your proposal, Mr. Potter.. Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall speaks softly from the corner. She calmly returns to the podium placing one hand on Harry's shoulder. "We shall discuss this in further detail as the events unfold. As for now, I believe it would be best for us all to get a good night of rest. For all we know, it very well may be the last opportunity to do so."

That Evening

Although Draco was aware that residing in his family's renowned mansion made him an easy target, he desperately required a private location to decompress. He lays spread out across his king-sized bed on his back, fully clothed in uniform from head to toe. Each hand is peacefully laid over the other on his stomach, and his eyes are glued to the ceiling. He removes one hand from the other listlessly reaching for his wand to his left. His eyes remain stagnant as he flicks his wrist at each of the four gargantuan windows encircling the room. The curtains fly open enabling the ability to overlook the city at a 180-degree angle. In reflection to the ominous day, gloomy grey skies dump copious amounts of water all across Wiltshire.

Draco now sits idly on the edge of his bed as vicious rain drops splatter against the windows. His eyesight blurs as his stare turns into a deep trance. The bellowing chime of the doorbell instantly startles him out of the daze. His staff had gone home for the day as it was well into the night, and the conditions outside proved it difficult for anyone to transport; even those with magic.

The doorbell rings once more as he apprehensively glides down the coiled flight of stairs. As he peers through the peephole, he finds it's impossible to make out the darkened, soaked figure standing on his doorstep. With one hand firmly gripped on his wand in his back pocket, he turns the knob with the other and gradually creaks the door open.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Draco hisses, his head viciously checking each direction.

"I wished to speak with you," Hermione firmly states. She's dressed in jeans and a black raincoat with damp wavy hair.

"It is not safe for you to be here," he harshly lectures. "Have you gone mad?"

"I don't care," she rebuttals with an unphased expression. "Now are you going to invite me in, or force me to wait out here all night?" The howling wind drowns out her voice. "Where I'm.. not safe? And freezing bloody cold?"

Draco curses under his breath as he takes a step onto the ledge. Hurdling particles of liquid fling in his eyes as he blindly reaches for Hermione's arm and pulls her inside. He slams the door shut while wiping the back of his arm across his dampened face. Making it well known that he was agitated, he turns toward her with a prolonged stare before helping her out of the soaking wet raincoat.

"I thought it was implied that the date would no longer be taking place this evening," he grumbles. Walking into the other room, he nonchalantly points his wand toward the empty fireplace igniting a roaring fire. After hanging her jacket above the firepit, he turns to her with both hands in his pockets and a displeased expression.

"Who said I was here for a bloody date?" she exclaims defensively, her noticeable temperamental façade matching Draco's. "Are you going to offer me a drink, or do I have to go fetch it myself?" Running a hand through her wet hair she adds, "Honestly, do you possess any manners at all?"

Draco's chin wrinkles as both eyebrows are raised at her untamed feistiness. He chooses the smart route of being compliant, wordlessly leaving her behind and heading to the wine cellar. He pulls out two glasses and a distinguished bottle of rosé; promptly uncorking and filling her glass.

He finds her in the den kneeled in front of the fireplace warming her hands. Once she views him from out of her peripheral she jumps to her feet, eagerly grabs the glass from his grasp, and immediately presses the rim to her lips. Her eyebrows furrow as she observes the wine glass after her first sip. "How were you aware that I fancied this wine?" she inquires with suspicious eyes.

"A little bird with a bloody lightning bolt on its forehead informed me," Draco blandly replies taking a seat next to her on the hardwood floor.

Her face softens as her lips twist to the side. "That's rather nice of you," she says softly as she looks to him.

Draco wordlessly glances to her before tending to his own glass. His clear blue eyes quickly become hypnotized by the flames before them. Although he had looked away, Hermione keeps her eyes on the handsome man seated beside her. "You know, I usually don't drink much," she claims as her fingertips eagerly push the base of the empty glass toward the opened bottle between them. "However, based off today's events, I believe it's nothing short of mandatory."

"Right.." he murmurs pouring her another glass. He speculatively examines the gorgeous witch who he was fully aware had been gazing at him for the last minute or so. Diverting his screaming inner temptations, he firmly states, "Enough of the nonsense, Granger." She scoffs at the uncalled-for comment as he adds, "I hardly believe you endured this torrential weather just to consume my wine. Amuse me; just why exactly are you here? Tell me."

"Well I.." Hermione peers off into the distance, her mouth opening before closing once more. "I came to tell you that.. that I do not agree with what you spoke of earlier in the meeting. It's perilous, and it's reckless."

"Is that right?" he grills with an entertained smirk. "And this is coming from the same girl who fought front and center in the Battle in her sixth year?"

"Correct," she replies weakly. She's grateful that the colors emitted from the fire washes out her bright red cheeks.

"I apologize that you feel in such a manner, Granger. However, I'm a grown man," he snaps. "I possess the ability to take care of myself and dictate my own decisions."

His body magnetically leans toward her as his hungry eyes observe every beautiful feature of her face. They torturously pause on her appetizing bow-shaped lips, and he's unable to look away. Although he was admirably putting up a good fight, Draco was exponentially losing control of his inhibitions.

"Fine." After finishing her glass she stands to her feet and grabs the coat that drips across the floor. "But I do not condone your actions."

Draco impatiently joins her side. "I do not require your permission to do whatever I please." He unknowingly gradually backs her up against the wall as she takes one step back after the other. "Wherever I choose.. whenever I desire.."

Hermione sharply inhales as her back harshly meets the wall, his face just inches from hers.

"Understand?" he mutters above a whisper. His jaw tightens as his ravenous eyes uncontrollably meet her mouth once more. Her lower lip quivers as he swiftly wraps his fingers around the back of her neck, centering it upon himself. "I said; understand?"

The firepit projects a reddish glow against Hermione's light brown glossy eyes. Her chest rapidly rises and falls as the oxygen is stripped from her lungs. She begins to shake her head as his grip tightens, his body now pushed up against hers.

Every ounce of resistance drives him absolutely wild, and she was well aware of that. With one last attempt at a head shake, Draco releases her neck and hastily grabs the bottom of her thighs. He abruptly hoists her up against the wall, the wine glass slipping from her fingers and shattering to the floor. She pushes her lips against his while wrapping her legs around his waist for balance. She runs her fingers through his unkempt hair, her grip tightening as she deepens the kiss.

Draco's voice lowly growls as his lips longingly graze the nape of her neck. She lightly moans as she pulls away from him. His darkened blue eyes dart back and forth once they meet hers, confused as to why she stopped him.

"The bedroom," Hermione pants wrapping her arms around the back of his neck. "Take me to the bedroom." Maintaining a sturdy grip on the bottom of her thighs, Draco separates her back from the wall and promptly obeys orders.

Chapter Text

The Next Morning

Peepholes of sunlight shine through lingering clouds, spotlighting different portions of the vast green land surrounding the Malfoy Manor. A large majority of the storm had passed leaving batches of dewy shrubbery drenched in its trail. Birds chatter briskly alerting the sunrise to various sorts of wildlife scattered across the endless acres.

Hermione stretches her legs and toes against the bed throwing straightened arms over shoulders. Her mind is cloudy and her temples lightly pulsate. Gravity viciously works against her as she sits up; her head growing heavy in her hands, her eyes squinting against the invasive sunlight.

“Mr. Malfoy?” A woman’s high-pitched voice alerts her on the other side of the bedroom door. She yanks the duvet to her chin over her fully clothed body. While remaining stealthily quiet, her hand instinctively fishes for her wand on the side table drawer. Her silence is granted as the morning newspaper is transported from beneath the bedroom door. It slides across the wooden flooring and gracefully levitates onto the side table drawer on the other side of the bed.

After glancing to the empty space beside her, Hermione swings her legs to the side of the mattress and touches the balls of her feet to the ground. The automatic firm defensive grip of her wand loosens as she tip-toes to the rolled piece of parchment. She checks the vacant room over both shoulders before snatching it from the table. The Daily Prophet has an assortment of live action pictures plastered spread across the sheets exhibiting utter destruction and chaos among the muggles.

The Purists: The New Death Eaters?

Unfortunately, the events televised yesterday were not empty threats. Over the span of the last 12 hours, The Purists have ambushed the United States; the East Coast to be exact. Black magic has been reported as being utilized in the area encircling the Empire State Building, leaving thousands of muggles dead.

From what we can tell, The Purists are constructing and forming their first base in the heart of New York City. It has also been told that an alternate variation to ‘Protego Maxima’ has been cast around the circumference, leaving the city impenetrable; only those who exhibit dark magical powers are granted entry.

We invite you to join the united wizarding community in remaining optimistic and calm, as it is our only option. In the meantime, all we can do is anxiously await Lucius Malfoys’ next tip.

Hermione’s heart aches as her eyes scan the text conveying The Purists’ timely conquests in America. The thought of her parents being eventually targeted in their current home of London makes her sick to her stomach; and the hangover wasn't helping. But she had to remain strong. As she learned from the second wizarding war, it was crucial that each individual participant remained levelheaded and focused.

The sensation of a balloon over-expanding in her skull reaches full capacity as she frustratingly folds the newspaper in half. She shoves the Daily Prophet in her bag with a scowl and sigh. After tossing the strap over her shoulder and gathering her shoes, she goes to find Draco. Even though it would most likely require the Marauder Map to locate the blond in the mansion with hundreds of compartments, she gives it her best shot.

After finally giving up and asking a staff member, Hermione’s led to his study located at the top of one of the towers. As they near the doorway she hears a vibrating object from within the room. She stops in place and quietly dismisses the assistant with a head nod and smile.

The rattling noise was a familiar one to Hermione, as her parents owned cellular telephones in the muggle world. To muggles, it was a common household contraption that pretty much every human owned. From her understanding, it was mainly used for communication purposes but provided entertainment abilities as well. For wizards and witches, however, it was used solely as an emergency method; something only used when an owl couldn’t suffice.

“I believe we aren’t on speaking terms,” Draco hisses into the receiver.

Hermione flattens her body against the wall and tilts her head back with closed eyes. She knew she shouldn’t be eavesdropping, invading his privacy, but the curiosity was deceitfully consuming.

“And just how have such events led you crawling to myself? Funny how things come full circle, isn’t it?” His desk chair moves across the wood floor as he stands to his feet. “I see,” he notes darkly. His footsteps trail back and forth in a rhythmic manner, pacing back and forth. After standing there for another few seconds on end, she hears a recognizably tense sigh. “You will be hearing from me soon. Thank you, Andromeda.”

Hermione restlessly fidgets with her hands as her eyes flutter open. She had no idea that Draco had been in touch with his estranged aunt, and Teddy’s grandmother. From the little she’d heard through Harry; the second cousins didn’t speak once over the holiday due to undisclosed reasoning.

The thud of continued footsteps cuts her thoughts short. She makes a sharp turn and enters the room nervously toying with her hair. With a forced, oblivious smile she softly greets, “Hello.”

Draco’s neck whips up at her as he hovers over his desk. As predicted, he’s already fully dressed in a fresh dress shirt with the top button undone and slacks. His icy hair and eyes match the pale complexion of his spooked, washed-out face. His vision viciously alternates between the doorway and the muggle contraption placed beneath him on the desk front and center.

“Was I interrupting something?”

“Not at all,” he briskly replies, her infectious smile brightening his face. Nonchalantly placing the cell back into his pocket he adds, “Sleep well, I hope?”

“Yes, very well.” She accepts her freshly laundered raincoat from one of the staff members who had entered the room. “Thank you for allowing me to sleep over. Nasty storm last night.” She bites her lip waiting for the maid to be out of earshot as she adds, “And I apologize, once more, for having to.. stop. It’s just, with circumstances at the moment, and-”

“No matter; it was merely a kiss, Granger.”

“Right. Merely a kiss,” she casually confirms fanning out her coat. “Well I best get going.”

Giving zero response, Draco closely observes a bird from the corner of his eye perched on the other side of the study window. It holds his fascination in a captivated state. Hermione tilts her head to inspect the miniature fowl that has the body of a raven, black feathers that shimmer like rubies, and two tiny cat-like ears pointed their direction. The deformed raven is seated at an unusually high elevation and watches Draco as closely as he does it.

“Indeed.” His eyebrows lower as his vision trails back to her. With constrained paranoia, he collectively strides over to her. Helping her into her coat he sternly adds, “You will be travelling by floo powder this time, yes?”

“Yes, mum,” she feistily replies tightening the strap around her waist. “I’ll show myself out.” She snakes her arms around the back of his neck, causing him to naturally hunch as she brings him in for a tight hug. As she draws her face away, she warmly absorbs the shameless smile that had formed on his face. “I’ll see you at school, then? I’m eager to see what you and Harry have in store for the students.”

Draco’s eyes enlarge as his head immediately turns to the same window from before. From where Hermione stood, she could make out that the stoic raven had remained in place. The snug grip on her hips is broken as he fetches his wand. With one swish, each individual set of blinds comes crashing down upon every rectangular window in the room.

“On the contrary,” he shortly notes tensely scanning the area. “I’d feel more comfortable if I were to escort you to the fireplace.”

Unsure of what to do or say without sending the incredulous Slytherin into a full-blown spiral of paranoia, Hermione compliantly goes along with his request. After placing the hand on the small of her back, Draco guides her toward the staircase.

It was the first week of Draco and Harry’s shared and expedited course; Defensive Charms.

The indefinite plan of working closely while creating an updated and modified version of Defense Against the Dark Arts had proved to be successful thus far. Sharing their respective knowledge of skillsets made the duo a great fit to lead the children.

As time went on and the instructors felt the students were ready, different professors were to be brought in each week to teach a modified charm in relation to their subject. The slew of students were ecstatic about the idea; it gave a sense of security, plus it was an exciting opportunity to learn from Hogwarts’ best.

“You were brilliant in Defense today.” A gorgeous girl from Ravenclaw with iridescent blue eyes approaches Teddy as they cross the quidditch pitch. “Of course, I didn’t expect anything less from Harry Potter’s godson.” She twists her finger in a lock of golden hair that shimmers against the lighting. “My name is Victoire, by the way. Friends call me Vic.”

“Pleasure, Vic. Your uncle is Harry's best mate I believe.” He stops in place and shoves both hands in his jeans while his robes sloppily slip off his shoulder. The Hufflepuff didn’t like wearing the robes, or the color yellow, so he wore it as sparingly as possible. “And I’m Teddy; Teddy Lupin.”

Victoire’s intense aquamarine eyes widen as a smile curls the edges of her lips. She smacks a piece of gum between her lips consciously curbing the inner urge to closely research his face. “So, you’re really a Metamorphmagus, then?”

“You really keep up with your research, don’t you?” he replies, uncomfortably scratching the back of his head.

“I wish to work for the Daily Prophet one day.”

“Seems you’d be bloody good at it,” he notes nudging an unruly batch of indigo hair from his eyes.

“Thank you,” she satisfyingly chirps intertwining her arms. She pauses, staring at him as though she were waiting on him to perform a quick song and dance. “So, are you going to show me, then?”

Feeling the Ravenclaw’s set of assertive eyes on him for long enough, Teddy decides to amuse his new fan. Requiring nothing other than to focus on the facial expression he chose to mimic, his thinned-out cheeks balloon as his blue hair abruptly shortens into a dark brown buzz cut.

Victoire’s eyes widen at the result; he had morphed into their renowned unruly classmate from Slytherin within seconds. “My name’s Grayson Goyle,” Teddy mocks with a lowered tone. She wildly giggles with a hand firmly placed against her mouth. “My parents were Death Eaters which is bloody wicked.”

The smile quickly drops from Victoire’s face as she awkwardly bites her lower lip. “Teddy,” she hurriedly whispers. He continues to mock, choosing to neglect the vicious shaking of her head as a small group of guys approach them. “Stop-”

“What do we have here?” Grayson Goyle storms up to the pair accompanied by two young men in Slytherin robes. Teddy’s appearance hurriedly transitions back to normal; his head full of royal blue hair, and his face slimmed. “Making a fool of me, are you?”

Teddy cringes and lightly blushes. “I’m sorry. That was-”

“At least my Death Eater parents aren’t dead, Lupin.”

Victoire gasps with an appalled expression. “That is not funny, Grayson.”

With a pompous chuckle and shoulder shrug Grayson replies, “Are you sure? I think it is.” He glances between his comrades snickering to one another as he retrieves his wand. “Incarcerous!” The complex sinister charm abruptly suspends Teddy mid-air. He lashes around upside down, gagged and confined in ropes.

“Stop it!!” Victoire screams punching the side of his bulky bicep. “You’re hurting him! Let him down!”

By the time she had the chance to run for help, someone had already lunged themselves at the leader of the troublesome group of Slytherins. The sound of a firm fist smacking Grayson’s face is followed by the footsteps of Goyle’s clan scurrying off.

The charm is instantaneously broken as the binds obliviate from around his limbs, and he comes crashing to the ground. The unidentified classmate in scarlet quidditch robes rubs his gloved hands together giving Teddy a disappointed look. “No need to bully, now, is there?”

“Who- who are you?” Teddy groans tracing the trail of blood from beneath his chin across his index finger.

“Jack Wood.” The athletically built Gryffindor offers a steady hand and hoists the scrawny Hufflepuff to his feet. “Can’t believe I’m missing practice for this rubbish,” he claims, authentically bothered. “However, that was quite the dig of the deceased.” He side eyes the Slytherin who remains on the floor, dramatically whimpering and leaning side to side.  

Hermione struts down the hallways with a book titled ‘The Dark Arts Outsmarted’ held snug in one hand. She’s wearing shapely black slacks and a maroon sweater with her hair up. Each firepit on the cobblestone walls lights as she passes, and a cool autumn breeze rushes through the castle. She takes a shortcut across the field for her third class of the day.

There she finds Harry’s godson, Ron’s niece, and the children of two of her classmates. The Gryffindor dressed in quidditch attire hovers over The Slytherin that lays flat against the grass. The Hufflepuff idly stands beside the Ravenclaw while accompanying Wood.

“What’s going on here?!” Hermione shouts. “Why is he on the floor?” She gestures to Grayson who haphazardly lifts his ass from the ground. Their Transfigurations professor’s unforgiving tone causes Jack to step a couple feet back with arms timidly folded behind himself.  

“Goyle used the Incarcerous curse on the blue lad, ma’am,” Jack calmly explains. “What was your name, anyway?” he quickly asks Teddy. “I didn’t get it.”

“Grayson did what?” Hermione’s voice harshly cracks startling Wood back on track. “Headmistress’ office, now,” she demands with her arm pointed behind her. “All bloody four of you.”

The late headmaster’s office hadn’t changed one bit. Despite several refurbishments to Hogwarts over the years, Professor McGonagall felt that Dumbledore’s old office simply didn’t require rejuvenation; she loved it just as it was.

The four students in question are seated across from McGonagall at the headmistress’ desk, while the Transfiguration teacher and Heads of Households hover behind their chairs.

“This is advanced magic,” Hermione sternly emphasizes. “Someone of Mr. Goyle’s age should hardly know of such charm; nonetheless use it! We cannot allow this to happen again.”

“I’ll handle it,” Harry and Draco speak over each other before exchanging a brief annoyed glance.

“Silence,” McGonagall reprimands. “The both of you. Mr. Malfoy, how many tasks do you intend to impose upon yourself before you snap into reclusion once more?”

Hermione’s chest quickly rises filling her lungs to capacity. The initial shock of the headmistress’ combative statement reflects in Draco’s body language. With an unsettled rearrangement of his stance and subdued nod, he presses his fist against his mouth with lowered brows.

“What do you suggest we do of this matter, Mr. Goyle?” McGonagall questions the young Slytherin in a manner that would have intimidated Lord Voldemort himself. “Surely you are aware that there is little room to attend to such nonsense at this time.” The three seated beside him sit with her their hands clasped in their laps and their heads shamefully lowered.

“I suggest.. I suggest that you have that freak removed from this school!” Grayson protests pointing at Teddy.

Draco’s fist remains magnetized to his mouth as his wand hand retaliates. With a quick flick, Goyle’s head whiplashes to the side as though an invisible heavy hand had smacked him upside the head. “Ow,” Grayson whines rubbing the back of his skull.

“Excuse yourself, Mr. Malfoy,” the headmistress demands. Draco’s eyes regretfully squeeze shut once McGonagall raises from her seat and frigidly struts toward him. “Is this some bloody circus to your amusement of some sort?”

“Headmistress,” he pleads with a firm hand gestured at Teddy. “Goyle candidly defiled another student.”

“Excuse.. yourself.”

Choosing to deter the awfully uncomfortable silence in the room, he turns on his heels with only enough time to glance at Harry who shoots him a satisfied ‘you had it coming’ look.

“May I make a suggestion?” Draco's pace slows as Hermione continues, “Perhaps Mr. Malfoy could attend to Mr. Goyle as a paternal figure of sorts; spend some time with him, take him under his wing, if you will.”

“A paternal figure?” Draco bewilderedly clarifies.

“Mr. Malfoy is the Head of Slytherin, after all.” She disregards his comment, speaking in a tone that sounds more directed at him than McGonagall. “I remember a time in which Mr. Goyle wasn’t so different from.. himself.”

“And what to do with the other three?” the headmistress counters with a sigh.

“Teddy is my responsibility as his legal guardian,” Harry states with eyes carefully glued on his godson. “And Jack also falls under my obligation.”

Victoire waves a rigid arm in the air. “Headmistress? With all due respect to the boys.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear before clasping her hands on the table. “I was simply a witness; a bystander. I believe it would be unfair if-”

“Not so fast, Ms. Weasley!” Professor Flitwick squeaks. “If I could only recall the amount of times I’ve heard the ‘innocent bystander’.. Detention shall be properly administered to each and every one of you.”

“Professor?!” Jack interjects in his most severe tone of the day. Every head in the room turns to him. “I have quidditch practice! The big game is coming up next week. Surely there’s an ulterior method of punishment!” The responsive frightening scowl on the headmistress’ face prompts Wood to expeditiously add, “Or, detention. Detention could work.”

Chapter Text

Two Weeks Later

A fire as bright green as Draco's apple erupts in the fireplace adjacent to him. He briskly tosses the fruit from one hand to the other as his new company enters the staffroom. Hermione fiercely brushes subtle traces off ash from her shoulders and shakes her head as speckles of dust snow from her wavy locks. She makes a pfft noise with her lips spitting out particles of dust.

Draco silently basks in her simple yet striking appearance; a black blazer, high heels, and a maroon dress that perfectly hugs her fully developed curvacious body. There was nothing sexier than Hermione Granger dressed in tasteful school uniform.

The Slytherin treats himself to an elongated gaze at the Gryffindor at his own leisure. "Travelled by floo powder like a good girl this time I see," he acknowledges with a self-assured smirk.

"Draco," Hermione gasps. The startled witch clutches her chest as the textbooks in her other arm rattle, almost escaping her grasp. "How many times must I tell you to stop popping up on me like that?" she fiercely lectures receiving an apathetic shoulder shrug. "And get off the bloody counter! There are those of us who prefer to prepare food in a hygienic environment."

Draco tauntingly dangles his legs over the countertop with a pompous smirk and straightened posture. "Frankly, I'm enjoying the view from up here."

Hermione groans at the predictable un-faltered disposition of her, to her own confusion at times, romantic interest. Her eyes begrudgingly feast on the Slytherin; routinely dressed in a black dress shirt, forrest green tie and slacks. His defiant hair, on the other hand, had a mind of its own and certainly didn't follow a schedule. A dab of gel barely holds together the tousled pieces of whiteish blonde hair that he presumably carelessly ran his fingers through once.

"What're you doing here Draco?" she sighs. Her lips purse to the side, the edges of her mouth uncontrollably rising. She draws her purple beaded purse, no bigger than a baseball, open with one hand. Her wand opens the shelf above the fireplace; stocking up on ink, quills, parchment, an assortment of feathers, and goblets that gracefully levitate into the pouch.

"I am a staff member," Draco clarifies with an assertive finger pointed at himself. "I frequent this location on Thursdays; free coffee and biscuits. Don't know where the others are though.." He casually checks over both shoulders before briefly lifting them.

"That's because there are no others during this time of day; especially on Thursdays," she insists with a short laugh. After digging through one of the cupboards she pulls out an empty kettle and places it on the countertop beside him. Her wand balances against the rim of the pot, a stream of boiling liquid streaming from the tip. "I visit the staffroom every Tuesday and Thursday to do some light reading. It's my only free period." She looks up at him through her eyelashes revealing a playful smile. "Of course, you already knew that."

Draco coolly rubs the apple against his dress shirt before taking a crisp bite. "I suppose you've caught me red-handed, Granger," he admits, the chewed contents ballooning the side of his cheek.

Raising a disapproving eyebrow at his afternoon snack she inquires, "What exactly is your obsession with apples, anyway? You're nibbling on one every bloody time I find you roaming about the castle."

"Jealous, are we?" he taunts. She ignores him, maintaining stern focus on her wand that now holds a mini pitcher of milk spilling into her tea.

Naturally, he takes her silence as a challenge to ruffle her feathers.

Draco stealthily pushes himself from the countertop landing just inches from her. Her body tenses the second his hand brushes her lower back. His lips part the hair near her ear from behind as he whispers, "Wish it was you I was nibbling on?"

A growing puddle of milk is seen on the counter from over her shoulder as she overflows her tea cup. "That's wildly inappropriate," she scoffs as he cautiously backs away. The conflicting look of annoyance and lust riddles her face; her eyebrows lowered, her cheeks burning a tomato red, a subdued juvenile smile making an appearance.

"Forgive me," he retracts throwing up both hands. Fighting back the urge to grin, he retrieves his wand and cleans up the mess for her. "I've found myself in a rare state of critical loneliness, Granger. I yearn to converse with another individual who possesses my level of intellect."

"Oh.. Draco." Hermione speaks in an empathetic tone pitifully shaking her head. His wand evaporates the last trace of milk as she adds, "Don't flatter yourself." Her head tilts toward her shoulder peeking at him sideways. "However.. you're in luck."

"Is that right?"

"You'll have the opportunity to converse with someone in the ballpark of your level of intellect on Halloween weekend. You will be attending Hogsmeade, yes?"

Draco's arrogant smile dissolves into a scowl. "I possess little interest in celebrating a holiday that holds an emphasis on the deceased," he belittles. "Hogsmeade; I've always loathed that bloody place."

Hermione hides her face behind the piping hot cup of tea as her curious eyes examine the brooding Slytherin. The volatile guard that persistently trailed behind Draco snugly embraces him in its clutches.

"That's a shame." Setting the tea cup down, she reaches elbow deep into her purse and retrieves her book. "I suppose I'll have to ask Ginny to accompany me then," she comments fluttering to the page she had left on.

"Ginny?" he states in an equally resentful tone.

"Yes.. Ginny. She is one of my best friends," she mutters as she turns the page.

"I was under the impression that the Weaslebees were cooped up in Dragonville." His expression sours as he bluntly adds, "For good."

"Well your impression was incorrect," she informs slamming the handheld book shut. "The Weasleys are returning from Romania due to the state of emergency."

"The whole lot?"

Both eyebrows are held high as she gradually nods her head. "Is there a problem?"

"Of course not," Draco retorts tossing the core of his apple into the bin. He turns back to her; both thumbs hooked in the belt loops of his slacks, his eyes thoughtfully scanning the ceiling. "Hogsmeade, huh?" Hermione bites the back of her knuckle fighting back a triumphant smile. "I suppose I could use a breath of fresh air. Tends to get a bit stuffy in this nut house of a castle."

Hermione satisfyingly reclines in her seat reopening the book with one hand. "I thought you would come to your senses," she pridefully announces. "A bit quicker than predicted, I'll admit." He narrows his eyes as she dismissively waves her hand at him. "Now, off you go. I have some reading to tend to."

Later That Evening

The initial implementation of Defensive Charms had successfully passed. Awareness of the core subjects that would be applied was covered, and the next phase of the course had been put into effect. As promised, a different professor would join the class on a weekly basis. They were to contribute their specific area of expertise in collaboration with a new defensive measure.

Neville would be demonstrating his self-made innovationfor the first week. Based off the standard curriculum, the Herbology professor had been teaching the second-year students the skill of potting mandrakes. For his upcoming contribution, Neville devised a variation to the task; the mandrakes fatal scream would be captured into a corked vial. Such vial would be teleported and thrown a great distance by use of Wingardium Leviosa; taking out an enemy within range at ease.

Due to the necessary expedited material being taught in both Herbology and Defensive Charms, detention had been pushed back. Unfortunately for the students, that certainly didn't mean it had been forgotten.

Herbology had come to a close for the day excluding the students who remained in the greenhouse; Teddy Lupin, Victoire Weasley, Grayson Goyle, and Jack Wood. They were to serve their first day of detention by cleaning up the mess following their lesson of re-potting mandrakes. No magic was to be used in helping them tidy up the area, and they were to be accompanied by their Herbology professor and Head of Slytherin.

Draco and Neville had barely spoken a word to each other since the start of term. Their interaction at the reunion was far from cordial, yet there was an underlying newfound acknowledgement of respect for one another. Each had been put through hell respectively, and it was to the benefit of everyone involved for the Gryffindor and Slytherin to let bygones be bygones. At least, to the best of their abilities.

The four students patiently stand beside their professors waiting for further instruction. Teddy is dressed in skin-tight ripped black jeans, a studded belt, and a black leather jacket cluttered with band pins. Victoire is in her Ravenclaw robes accompanied by two yellow rubber gloves that reach her elbows. Jack wears jeans and a t-shirt representing a well renowned quidditch team, and Grayson ditched his house robes for jeans and a sweatshirt.

Neville emerges from behind his desk grasping two jugs of flesh-eating slug repellant. "Alright you lot," he instructs. "Two of you will be spraying the mandrakes, and the others will be cleaning up after this rubbish. Professor Malfoy and I will be working on the upcoming project for Defence next week, so please keep quiet."

Victoire gives a sigh of relief as the rubber gloves are instantly ripped from her arms. "Dispersing repellant sounds cleanly enough." She grimaces at the pile of mulch beneath her as she snatches one jug from Neville's grasp. Next, the Ravenclaw makes her way to the batch of potted mandrakes in the corner of the room with Grayson close on her heels.

Jack detaches a push broom hung on the wall and sweeps each row into a neat pile of dirt and shattered pottery. Teddy gets on all fours beneath a table full of toppled over pots with a handheld brush and bucket of soapy water.

"Your father is Oliver Wood," Victoire states matter-of-factly as she approaches Jack. "One of the most talented quidditch players to ever leave Hogwarts, of course."

"That would be him; the Keeper on Puddlemere United," he replies pridefully pointing to his t-shirt.

"Do you receive free admission? I've always fancied attending one of their events." Victoire enthusiastically bounces on the balls of her feet with enticed, sparkling eyes. Teddy somberly glances over his shoulder at them with the handheld brush held idle against a puddle of mud.

"Free admission?" Jack scoffs with a smile. "More like VIP treatment for every bloody game I attend!"

"Shut up!" she squeals in excitement.

"Yes, Ms. Weasley," Draco grumbles from the front of the room. "It would be wise to take your own advice, and get back to work."

Victoire glares at her professor as she retrieves the container of slug repellant. Grayson chuckles from the corner of the room, one hand holding the jug and the other dispersing the spray from a nozzle. "Yeah, shut up, Weasley. As if Wood would ever take you anyway."

Jack leans against the broom stick as he visually sizes up his classmate. "How would you know, Goyle?" He glances to Victoire, detecting her shameless passionate gaze of admiration, and awkwardly redirects his line of vision. "Why so quiet down there, my blue lad?"

"Not a fan of quidditch," Teddy quietly mutters from beneath the table.

"Not a fan of quidditch?" Jack pauses mid-sweep crouching beside him. He maintains a stable grip on the broomstick as he scolds, "And this is coming from the godson of the man who won several championships under my father's leadership?"

"I guess so. I'm more into.. like.. music," he states in an equally reserved tone. His apprehensive eyes scan Jack's face as he timidly adds, "You know, The Sex Pistols and The Clash."

Jack curiously tilts his head to the side with a shoulder shrug. "Never heard of them. You'll have to show me them sometime." He pats Teddy a couple times on the shoulder with an earnest smile. "Not to worry, my blue lad, I have yet to give up on you; you can't knock quidditch 'til you've tried it."

Teddy smirks at his new friend as Grayson snorts from across the room. "Psh. Muggle's music," he sneers.

"Quiet," Draco hisses.

"What's wrong with muggle's music?" Victoire fiercely chimes in. "I used to listen to these silver discs, I believe they're called CD's, at my granddad's house."

"Well, at least the muggle's grungy influence didn't give you the ghastly idea to dress like that," he sneers pointing the nozzle in Teddy's direction.

"I happen to fancy the way he dresses, Grayson," Victoire coolly defends. Teddy hides the bashful, vindicated grin on his face as he turns his attention back to the dirt ridden floor.

"Suit yourself. As if the freakish tendency to change his appearance wasn't disturbing enough.." Goyle lashes out with an obvious hint of jealousy in his tone. ".. I've heard he turns into a werewolf during a full moon."

Draco's fists slam against the desk with great force startling everyone in the room. "Must I cast a silencing charm on you Mr. Goyle?! Or would the Imperius curse be more effective?" he harshly threatens shoving his chair back and springing to his feet.

Neville closely monitors the livid Defensive Charms professor from the side of his eye. He had been warned of Draco's tendency to discipline Grayson Goyle based purely off emotion rather than logic. Therefore, empty threats of conducting dark magic on the young man didn't come as much of a surprise.

"Perhaps this will grant your silence." The rambunctious students freeze in place as Draco flies toward Grayson like a bat out of hell. "Follow me," he demands ripping the jug of repellant from his grasp.

"Malfoy," Neville addresses in a drawn-out manner. "What're you doing with him?"

"These mandrakes don't require two jugs of repellant, Longbottom," he explains setting the container down. "I have yet to locate a single flesh-eating slug threatening this batch. It would be beneficial for Mr. Goyle to exterminate the creatures head on. Advantageously, there is a nasty infestation on the other side of this wall."

"What?" Grayson protests. "May I remind you the name of these slugs, professor? Flesh.. eating?"

"Malfoy.." Neville warns in the same tone from before.

"Never fear, Mr. Goyle. Flesh-eating slugs are vegetarian." Grayson groans as the Head of Slytherin places a firm hand on his back guiding him toward the exit. "Mr. Longbottom can attest to that."

"Flesh.. eating," Grayson repeats.

"I strongly suggest you avoid the spittle contacting your flesh, then," the professor casually concludes. "In such a case; you know where to locate me, and I will gladly escort you to the hospital wing."

"Instructing direct involvement with flesh-eating slugs?" Neville ridicules storming to Draco's side in the moonlight. "Are you mad?"

"Hardly," Draco confidently replies. "Spraying poisonous mollusks from a safe distance, or investigating the appearance of unicorn blood in the Forbidden Forrest?" He flattens both palms above shoulder level, raising and lowering each hand. "Which would you have preferred in our first year, Longbottom?"

Neville thoughtfully tilts his head to the side with an exaggerated chin stroke. "I would have preferred you not plot mindless mischief and get us all in trouble in the first place."

They continue to banter, standing a good distance behind Grayson, as someone suddenly approaches them from their blind spot.

"Harry," Neville acknowledges. "I didn't see you there."

"Potter," Draco dryly acknowledges with an eyeroll.

"Why's Grayson outside.. spraying.." Harry saves his breath, the events quickly adding up in his head, as he slowly turns his head to Draco. "What did you do now?"

"Grayson was bullying Teddy again," Neville informs. "So Malfoy felt this was proper punishment."

"Teddy?" Draco's lips shutter as he harshly exhales a fake chuckle. The doubtful look of disbelief from his colleagues prompts him to add, "The boy had nothing to do with it."

"I don't know, Malfoy.." Harry blows out his cheeks with an impassive expression. "Neville's right. You are quite the guardian of Teddy."

"The spawn of Goyle is a bloody nightmare," Draco lividly deflects pointing a stern finger in his direction. "I requested his silence and he refused. You were there, Neville.. were you not?"

Before Neville can answer Harry interjects, "Well, I was there when you assaulted Grayson in front of the headmistress following his nasty commentary on Teddy not so long ago. Coincidence?"

"What are you getting at?" he snaps, his eyebrows lowering.

The Gryffindor irritably chuckles in astonishment, occasionally glancing to Neville who purposefully keeps his eyes lowered. "I'm getting at the fact that you clearly put Grayson on zombie-slug duty purely for insulting Teddy. You care about him; just admit it."

"With all due respect, Potter, Theodore has as much significance to myself as the next child."

"Brilliant," Harry shoots back with heavy agitation and sarcasm in his tone. "He is my godson after all, Malfoy. And if anyone felt the need to step in on his behalf, that would be me."

The Gryffindor and Slytherin hold unwavering eye contact in a silent stand-off.

The resurrected animosity between the two forces the Herbology professor to endure a prolonged uncomfortable silence. "This was my fault, wasn't it?" Neville grimly states looking between the two. "I've gone and started an argument.."

Chapter Text

Halloween Night

Immediately following the feast, the professors gather all qualifying students in preparation for the annual Halloween trip to Hogsmeade.

Three of the houses mingle and walk with one another under the direction of the participating professors. The Head of Slytherin, however, separately escorts his house that was well-known to taper off track.

Draco kept a tight leash on them and didn’t allow the same privileges as the other houses until they showed improvement as a whole. And even though he wasn’t present, Grayson Goyle was working heavily against his house’s advancement. The second-year’s debacle with the seasoned Slytherin was no secret to his resentful housemates.

Once they finally reach Hogsmeade the Head of Household allows them to run off; equally tired of them just as much as they were of his strict leadership. The crowd disperses into groups of friends eager to freely roam their favorite town outside of Hogwarts.

In a similar fashion, the group of professors scatter to find friendly company with one another.

Hermione finds Draco delayed at the entrance; dressed in a black turtleneck and slacks, a dark grey woolen blazer, and his hair neatly slicked to the side. He hadn’t moved one inch since he dismissed the Slytherins, and the light sneer on his face projects his utter discomfort.

Their eyes meet as his hesitantly flicker from hers. His chest rises as he draws in a deep breath and strolls toward her; each stride growing more confident as he nears.

“Good evening, Granger,” he greets with cheerful smirk. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

Hermione does a fake curtsy while exaggeratingly batting her eyelashes. She’s wearing a beige peacoat, black skinny jeans and a matching beret with straightened hair underneath. “As are you, Malfoy.”

Draco winces at the unexpected greeting. “I don’t particularly enjoy you addressing me by my last name.” His feet manually lead him through the entrance trailing beside her.

“The day you decide to address me by my first name; I’ll put it into consideration,” she playfully chirps back.

As they continue their walk, his heavily guarded body language doesn’t alleviate in the least. His shoulders are tensely held close to his neck, his lips are pressed into a thin line, and his stiffened arms keep both hands safely docked in his pockets.

The wizards and witches of Hogsmeade don’t refrain from gawking at him as they pass; some simply scoffing, some turning up their nose, and some sending drawn out stares of hatred.

The Malfoy name certainly incited a negative reaction, and there simply was no amount of years in solidarity that could prevent Draco from being objectified by society.

Especially considering the circumstances.

A wizard in his mid 50’s calls aloud for everyone to pick up the latest copy of The Daily Prophet from his newsstand. Draco’s eyes are uncontrollably drawn to the front page like a moth to a flame.

The Purists Sweep America: Who Will Be Their Next Target?

He clenches his teeth with so much pressure that he can hear them scrape together in his ears. His lower lip hangs as he stretches out his aching jaw with tightly closed eyes.

“Draco?” His eyes jut open at the sound of Hermione’s voice, instantaneously twisting his neck toward her. The disoriented expression on his face causes her to inform, “You haven’t said a word since we entered.”

“Have I?” he replies as distant as his demeanor.

She continues to peer at him from the corner of her eye, mindful that he wasn’t ritualistically peeping right back at her. Of course, she had also noticed the latest edition of The Daily Prophet. Yet, she remains patiently quiet as an anchor of emotional support.

If she didn’t know him any better; Draco Malfoy certainly wasn’t a man of many words when it came to inner personal turmoil.

Halloween was in full effect at Hogsmeade.

Although it was typically a muggle’s holiday, wizards and witches equally enjoyed the celebration. It was an excuse to stock up on sweets and dress up as whatever they wished.

A mixture of students from Hogwarts and the locals run about the small town. The younger crowd carries hollowed out plastic jack-o-lanterns filled to the brim with treats.

A crowd of them are huddled outside of Honeydukes Sweetshop; the main attraction on Halloween. Assortments of enchanted candy were at their prime this time of year, and an annual limited-edition treat was dispersed.

Managing to quickly slip into the shop by cutting the line, to Hermione’s dissatisfaction, Draco leads them through the swarm of people.

The blinding lime-green wallpaper accentuates the rainbow-colored packaging and treats dispersed throughout the shop. There are stacks upon stacks of Halloween themed chocolates and candies inventoried along the walls. Each cylinder glass jar contains a variety of sweet treats with several multicolored lollipops orbiting around them.

Honeydukes is filled from wall to wall; each eager child dumping piles of sweets into their festive buckets. The Defensive Charms professor was deeply annoyed to be stuck in a tiny shop enclosed by the teenagers he had planned on avoiding for the night. However, the infectious positive energy that Hermione exuded tended to counteract his grouchiness. Her festive elation was more than enough to keep him happy.

However, as soon as the Gryffindor got her hands on the acclaimed limited-edition candy, Draco was adamant to get them the fuck out of there. Hog’s Head was much more of an alluring attraction at Hogsmeade for the Slytherin.

“Fancy a gander at what I purchased?” Hermione digs into the tiny gift bag upon their departure. She hands him the ring sized box with black and orange striped packaging.

There’s an illustration of a lion, snake, badger, and a raven perched beside a pumpkin with innocent softened expressions. When he tilts the box to the side, devil horns grow from each of their heads and a deceitful grin widens across their faces.

Haunted ‘House’ Moody Ring: Limited Edition

Let this special ring do the talking for you! Watch the color and house mascot adjust to accurately represent your mood right before your eyes.

 It’ll spook you out!

Draco fishes out the velvet box from the cardboard packaging. He clicks it open to find a large see-through diamond candy attached to a plastic post; similar to a muggles Ring Pop.

“Isn’t it rather premature to be proposing to me- Ow!”

It didn’t take long for Hermione to harshly slap him on the side of his arm.

“Mood rings are a load of rubbish!” Draco insists, still lightly wincing at the warm handprint forming on his arm. “A silly candy has never proved the ability to get a read on my emotions; even if they’re enchanted,” he proudly adds.

“I hardly believe that.” Hermione sighs while placing the edible ring on her finger.

A cloud of yellow smoke is automatically released within the clear diamond. A miniature lion makes an appearance, baring its teeth, within the enchanted treat. She shakes her hand causing a snow globe effect. Miniature bats rain upon the lively lion which moves in a similar holographic manner as the Chocolate Frog cards.

“I’ll make an educated guess and assume that yellow represents irritation,” Hermione notes with a smug smirk. She sorts through the bag and pulls out another purchased treat. “Take your apple you sod,” she huffs with a deliberate perturbed expression.

“You’re gifting me a caramel covered apple?” Draco gawks at the treat as if she were holding a hunk of solid gold.

“You were standing right next to me when I purchased it; did you not notice?”

“No,” he bluntly replies. “I was paying mind to the nearest exit.”

Hermione slowly rolls her eyes, slams the beloved caramel apple in his hand, and storms past him towards Hog’s Head. She delightfully smirks to herself as his footsteps scurry after her.

A group of snickering fourth-year Slytherins run past them, foregoing the usage of hollowed out pumpkins. Instead, the treats overflow from their stuffed pockets and robes leaving a trail of candy behind them.

Draco inherently keeps his eyes glued to them as they pass. He absent-mindedly sets down both drinks that he had fetched from inside the pub.

“Did you hear about Gregory Goyle?” Hermione peers at the group of Slytherins as she adds, “He had a heavy hand in the demolition of Chicago..”

The Head of Slytherin raises a lackadaisical brow as he unbuttons his jacket and takes a seat at their table outside of Hog’s Head. “Were you expecting otherwise?” He swirls the glass of neat whiskey in hand, distractedly gazing past her as he draws the brim to his lips.

“How’s Grayson taking it? Surely the influence of his father will-”

“Care to change the subject?” he deflects, turning to her with a forced smile. She takes the hint and joins him in observing the festive atmosphere.

A dark purple hue drapes across the night sky against the full moon. The luminosity provides just enough lighting to illuminate the entire village. Bewitched jack-o-lanterns and swarms of bats oscillate over the full length of the town. Orange and black twinkling lights hang between each triangle shaped rooftop. The scent of cinnamon and apples wafts through the air.

“I love Hogsmeade in the fall.” Hermione lightly smiles brushing her hands together. “I haven’t visited since my seventh year. Trips resumed shortly following the Battle. They were put on hold after..” Her voice trails off as her eyes nervously flicker between Draco and her hot beverage. She places both palms on either side of her mug with a grimace. “Sorry..”

“You’ve never had a way with subtlety, Granger.”

Having unintentionally put her foot in her mouth twice now, Hermione decides to let him guide the conversation from here. She examines her ring; a cloud of light blue smoke now encircling the sulky lion with its tail between its legs. Nonchalantly covering it with her other hand, she glances over her shoulder to find that Draco had been glaring at the Three Broomsticks sign behind her.

“It was never my intention to hurt her,” he mutters above a whisper. His stormy eyes remain hypnotized by the sign swinging in the breeze. His shoulders naturally hunch while placing both elbows on the table. Exhaling a trapped breath, he hovers over his drink of comfort.

The Gryffindor hesitatingly affirms, “Katie Bell.”

“My actions could have killed her,” Draco speaks quietly through gritted teeth. He furrows his brows and protectively wraps his arms around himself.

It was evident that he was failing to compartmentalize the all-encompassing guilt that was inwardly gnawing at him. He could no longer stifle the remorse eating away at him from the moment they stepped into Hogsmeade.

Hermione remains patiently quiet with her cheek leaned against a flattened palm. Taken aback by the sudden uncharacteristic vulnerability, she waits for him to speak at his own pace.

They sit there for another few wordless moments; the chilling breeze pinching their skin, the leaves beneath their feet scraping against the pavement, the trees above them dancing in the wind.

She pulls the collar of her jacket closer to her ice-cold cheeks as she watches the Slytherin; slumped over in his chair with a hand covering his eyes. Her body naturally leans toward him, periodically glancing at the melancholy expression he tries to hide by keeping his head lowered. She perks up once he lifts his chin to look at her.

The look of undeniable fury on his face, however, isn’t so reassuring.

“I endured quite the beating for that one.” Draco agitatedly adjusts the cuffs of his jacket, his shoulders rigidly adjusting as if he were stretching them.

“A beating?”

“Of course,” he shortly replies as if this was common knowledge. “Failure to slay the headmaster? Impairing another student in his place?” With a saddened smirk he adds, “Father didn’t utilize that fancy walking stick of his as merely a wand.”

A mixture of frigid air and overflowing compassion irritates Hermione’s eyes. She sniffs against the wind, and her aching heart, as she looks to her enchanted ring. It had turned a dark blue and the lion sits with its head held low.

“The acts my father forced myself to act.. the acts my father is presently performing..” The elevated volume and anger in Draco’s voice creates protruding veins in his neck. He bares his teeth as he adds, “I fucking loathe the man.”

Hermione could stay quiet no longer. “Draco, look at me.” She gradually walks her fingers across the table trailing toward his hand. She covers one of his clenched fists and tightly squeezes it. “You are entitled to the way that you feel. Just remember that you are not your father. There’s two critical differences between yourself and Lucius. You possess remorse, and beneath that self-assured exterior; you possess humility.”

“I admire your confidence in me,” he states with an unreadable expression, his eyes set on her hand over his. “Considering the way I treated you; I don’t understand why you’re so good to me.”

“Because.. whether or not I’m absolutely mad; I believe in you,” she softly replies. The ring on her hand over his explodes with dark purple smoke. The coloration builds so dark that the lion was no longer visible.

Draco’s bright blue eyes drag up to her face and is greeted by an encouraging, kind smile that sends a chill down his spine. He certainly wasn’t used to this feeling; the sensation of a batch of rampant butterflies released in his stomach.

The alien, unsettling phenomenon causes Draco to gradually remove his hand from beneath hers. He tilts the back legs of his chair and casually kicks up his heels on the empty table beside them.

He points to the enchanted candy on her finger. “And what nonsense does that color account for?”

Hermione eyes dart, pause, and then shift again. She leans forward and places both elbows against the table, hanging her hands over her lap and hiding the ring. “Erm.. I believe purple indicates a strong sense of.. confidence.”

After suspiciously narrowing his eyes at her momentarily, Draco gives an apathetic head nod and tilts further in his chair. He observes the twinkling stars blanketing the night sky as he pulls the caramel apple from its packaging. His eyes blissfully close as he chews, with the shadow of a smile appearing on his face.

Chapter Text

Hermione and Draco remained posted outside of Hog’s Head well after last call. Most of the staff and students had made their way back to Hogwarts, but the Transfiguration and Defensive Charms professors took their sweet time in enjoying each other’s company.

The Head of Slytherin tended to be more lenient and relaxed when he was in the presence of the Gryffindor. Therefore, he frankly didn’t care how his house got back to the school, so long as the Prefect guided them.

Draco fills his mouth with bourbon finishing the last of his drink in one gulp. Standing to his feet, he strolls to the other side of the table and offers his hand.

Hermione yips as he lifts her with much greater force than expected. Her body momentarily pushes against his before cautiously taking a step back with pinkened cheeks. She peers up at him, met with bright blue eyes that contrast against the glossy whites of his eyes.

“Am I making you nervous, Granger?” The back of his fingers trace her heated cheeks. “You’re flush.”

“I beg your pardon?” she ridicules in an overly defensive manner, both hands now placed on her cheeks. “If you haven’t noticed, this wind is bloody bone-chilling.”

“Allow me to warm you up then.” With a cheesy smile, he opens up his peacoat and tries to catch her in it.

She giggles shoving his shoulder back. “Would you fancy another handprint on your chest this time?”

Draco’s eyebrows furrow, side-eyeing her, as he buttons his jacket. “You’re rather intimidating at times.”

“Not the first time I’ve heard that,” she chirps while tightening her scarf. “Now, are you sure you feel comfortable walking me home?”

“Father is well across the pond terrorizing America,” Draco insists placing both hands in the pockets of his jacket. “Did you fail to see the headlines?” He extends his elbow outward for her to intertwine her arm in his.

“No.. no I did not.”

With the testy subject being brought up once more, the duo exits Hogsmeade with minimal tame conversation.

As they continue their walk, Hermione occasionally glances up to Draco who’s noticeably entranced in deep thought. The emotionless expression on his face, however, doesn’t give much indication.

They remain bundled together, retaining their body heat against the frigid air, as they turn onto her street.

“Tell me about your father,” he suddenly states. He peers down at her with impassive eyes. “What’s he like?”

Hermione’s eyebrows raise in genuine surprise. “You.. wish to know about my father?” The faintest signal of a head nod prompts her to add, “Well, he’s.. a dentist. So is my mum. I suppose my parents fancy teeth.”

“Is that right?” An enigmatic grin spreads across his lips as the pace of his strides decreases. “I hear the muggles greatly fear dentists,” he notes with intrigued confidence.

“That’s right,” she replies with a hushed laugh and a cocked eyebrow. “The semi-annual checkups have been described as quite torturous.”

“Fascinating.” He uses little effort to hide the sadistic curiosity in his tone. They come to an ultimate halt as he turns to her with a quizzical smirk. It widens across his face as he inquires, “Is it true they place lethal instruments in their mouths?”

Hermione crinkles her eyes and nose holding back a laugh. She slowly looks over both shoulders and angles her upper body toward him. “I’ll let you in on a little secret,” she whispers, her hand cupped over his ear.

The sides of Draco’s lips curl, his fiery eyes following her hand as it inserts the gift bag from Honeydukes.

“This is the lethal instrument.”

Growing disappointment is evident on his face as she pulls out another treat. “A.. chocolate frog?” he notes unimpressed. The fire in his eyes is promptly extinguished. He rolls his eyes and picks back up his pace, leading them toward her cottage just a few houses down.

An audacious giggle escapes her lips prompting an equally unamused expression. “Dentists repair teeth, Draco; sugar causes cavities and gingivitis. Muggles don’t possess magic for hygienic purposes.”

“Gingivitis?” he sneers. “Is that some sort of sexually transmitted disease?” He grimaces as his tongue runs across his front teeth.

The witch throws her head back in hearty laughter, unable to obtain the amusement of his ignorance on something that was so simple to muggleborns. “No, you daft thing.”

Hermione unravels her arm from his and approaches her porch, leaving behind an uncharacteristically misinformed Slytherin with a slightly bruised ego.

“Thank you again for walking me home.” She shuffles through her purse while he waits on the step beneath her. “You didn’t have to.”

“I’m aware,” he bluntly replies folding his arms. “Nonetheless, I’m a chivalrous man. It would be rather rude to neglect escorting my date home, now wouldn’t it?”

Hermione tilts her head to the side with narrowed eyes and a tamed smile. “So that was our first date, was it?”

“Not the one I imagined.” He casually observes his fingernails as he adds, “Or the one you deserved.”

With a firm bite on her lower lip, her eyes flutter between the handsome Slytherin and the ground beneath them. The Gryffindor gasps, thrown off guard, as he swiftly grabs her right hand.

Draco peers at the enchanted Moody Ring on her finger; a darkened indigo color once more. “Feeling confident again, Granger?” he speculatively inquires with a devilish smirk.

“Not.. particularly.” She nervously removes her ringed hand from his.

“Well, I certainly am.” He calls her bluff, retrieving her hand once more and gently pulling it from her finger. “Since you believe in this rubbish; let’s give it a whirl, shall we?”

Her head subconsciously shakes, her forehead wrinkling, as he shoves the candy onto his finger. It takes a moment to adjust; the purple smoke lightening and diminishing, the lion disappearing.

A coiled snake unravels its body and straightens its posture within the ring. Draco amusedly shakes the clear diamond, bats raining over the serpent, as the snake attempts to bite the miniature nocturnal creatures. A bright orange smoke expels from the bottom of the candy as the snake, still standing rigid, sways its head back and forth.

“See?” Draco pesters. “Orange; nonsense.” He uncovers a vindictive smile that quickly falters once he’s met with the disheartened look on her face.

Hermione resentfully scoffs at the ring with quickened breath. She holds out a flattened palm and curls her fingers towards herself. “You’ve made your point. Hand it over.”

Draco quickly shakes his head in fake confusion. “Have I done something?”

“No.”

“I don’t understand,” he presses. “I advised that these sorts of contraptions fail to read me.”

Hermione sighs as she crosses her arms with widened eyes. “It didn’t fail to read you, you bloody wanker. You’re as confident as ever. Congratulations.”

Taking a step onto the porch, Draco places his hands on her hips and gives them a light squeeze with a cocky smirk. Her eyes irritably dart back and forth scanning his face. “Hand it over.”

He swings the ringed hand behind his back as she tries to reach for it. She frustratingly grunts with a foot stomp. “Why so flustered, Granger?” he teases, subtly drawing her hips against his lower body.

Her eyesight falls to the floor as her hands naturally land on either side of his arms. “I’m not,” she replies adamantly.

“Bloody hell. Loosen up, would you?” He delicately raises her chin revealing a charming smirk. She twists her lips with a preserved a grin. “I was previously unstimulated. Perhaps this will incite a proper reading..”

Draco’s face hardens as his electric blue eyes zone in on her mouth. Tightening the firm grip on her hips, he inches his face closer while his eyes flicker to hers for permission.

“This is not wise,” she furiously whispers looking around them. “Someone could see us. A staff member could see us.”

“Do you think I give a damn?” He sighs as he places one hand beneath her ear and caresses her neck.

“Draco- I.. I really don’t think..”

Although her head was shaking no, her eyes were screaming yes. He lightly smiles while caressing her cheek with his thumb. “Your eyes are absolutely captivating, Hermione; even when you’re bloody unhinged.”

Without skipping a beat she quickly says, “You just stated my name.”

His eyebrows lower. “Did I?”

She stares up at him through passionate, demanding eyes. “Say it again.”

Draco glances down to his hand with a crooked smile on his face. He scuffs the pavement with his shoe as he raises his fingers before her eyes. The color of the candy diamond had morphed into a dark purple, and the snake was no longer visible.

“Appears as though our rings have matched, Hermione. I believe it’d be safe to assume that the color indicates-”

“Lust,” she cuts him off.

After being lunged at, Draco quickly stabilizes their weight so they don’t fall backward. Hermione wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him deeply, promptly parting their lips and rubbing her tongue against his. Her fingers dishevel his gelled hair, and his back remains arched at an angle from being pounced on so forcefully.

A sudden bright light floods the porch as the front door swings open. “Hermi- oh my God!!”

They stay frozen in place; her hands entangled in his hair, the tips of his fingers digging into her lower back.

“Ginny bloody Weasley?” Draco sneers, his grasp on Hermione loosening.

“Draco bloody Malfoy?” Ginny shoots back with a snarl on her face.

They both look to Hermione who raises the collar of her jacket in a subconscious attempt to hide herself.

“Ginny has been residing with you?” Draco scolds.

“You’ve been snogging Malfoy?” Ginny lectures.

“Ginny go back inside.” Hermione’s eyes hesitantly fluctuate between her friend and her complicated love interest. “It’s not what it looks like. We’ll discuss this later.”

Ginny crosses her arms attitudinally jutting her hip to the side. “You’re damn right we will.” With one last sneer, she slams the front door shut.

Draco completely releases her from his grasp holding hands up. “It’s not what it bloody looks like? Your tongue down my throat certainly gave a different impression.”

Hermione cringes hiding her face behind her hands. “I’m sorry,” she speaks with a muffled sound through her fingers. “I got nervous.. Ginny’s only been here for two weeks or so.”

“Only two weeks?” he fumes. “What other rubbish are you going present next? That that other Weasley is nesting up with you?”

“No. He’s staying with Harry and Luna. And even if Ronald were ‘nesting up’ with me,” she seethes quoting with her fingers. “It would be none of your bloody business!”

Narrowing his eyes and placing both hands in his pockets, Draco takes a few steps back with a brief nod. “You’re correct; my apologies. I wish you a brilliant evening with your guest, Granger.”

Hermione speechlessly watches him walk down her street, with his hands held behind his back, as he makes his way home.

Draco safely makes it back to the Manor and bursts through the front door. He slashes his wand at every room he passes, turning on every light in his path.

As he approaches the kitchen he recognizes that the window hangs wide open. The curtains flutter in the wind as he apprehensively approaches with his wand drawn.

While peeping his head out the window, the rustling sound of paper quivers across the countertop beneath him. His stomach drops as he picks up the uniquely stamped envelope that belonged to only one person.

Tearing the envelope open, he brings the piece of parchment closer to his face.

Dearest Draco,

I’ve become inpatient in awaiting your cooperation. Your contribution to the continuation of honoring our family name has failed me.

The knowledge that you’ve been teaching at that hideous school is nothing short of insulting. It has also been brought to my attention that you’ve had relations with a certain snooty mudblood..

My son; all can be forgiven, so long as you salute your allegiance to me. Of course, there shall be punishment for your reckless behavior. However, you possess the ability to prolong the lives of those you love.

All you must to do is abandon that vile school and begin your new life; the life you so deserve to pursue. You possess such great potential. I will be awaiting your company next Friday evening at Borgin and Burkes.

Failure to comply shall lead to several expedited deaths at that filthy school, beginning with a certain snobbish mudblood. And if you insist to deny that of your legacy, I will be forced to eliminate the very existence of you.

Make the correct decision, my only son. It is your duty, and it is your blood.

Truly,

Lucius Malfoy

Draco clutches the letter and storms to the living room without a single muscle movement in his face. He takes a seat and idly glares into the roaring fire. Unfolding the piece of parchment, he reads it over once more.

Chapter Text

"Have you gone mad?"

"Perhaps," Hermione admittedly replies with a sigh. She sits across from her best friend on her bed while gazing at the candy ring Draco tossed at her before his departure.

"Stop making that face, it's making me nauseous." Ginny flips her hair propping her back against the wall. "You were practically shagging on the porch," she adds in a combination of disgust and humor.

"No we weren't. In fact, we had just started kissing when you-"

"When I ever so rudely interrupted?" Ginny speaks for her, rolling her hand slowly as she speaks. "Look, 'Mione, I know a passionate kiss when I see one.. and-" She uncomfortably fidgets with her hands as she mutters, "And I'd never seen you like that before.. with.."

"You can't tell him," Hermione pleads clasping her hands together. "Ronald's already having a difficult enough of a time as it is, being back here. Harry's told me."

"I could never," Ginny snaps folding her arms. "He would be devastated."

Tears rim Hermione's eyelids as she wrings her hands together. "I never meant for this to happen.."

"'Mione are you crying?" Her friend places a hand on her shoulder promptly changing her hardened demeanor. "I was only teasing.. well, for the most part."

"But Ginny, Draco's changed." She stands to her feet and paces back and forth, as if she was pleading her case in court. "You should see him with the children. With Neville, and with Harry.. and with me.."

"Oh my God!" Ginny shouts with a scoff. "This wasn't just a kiss. You're in love with him!"

"No I am not!" Hermione stares back at her friend in horror. The smile that begs to cross her lips is securely held back. "It was only in the heat of the moment. Both times, I suppose."

"Both? So there were multiple snogs?"

"I'm going to bed." Hermione flicks her wand turning off every light in the bedroom aside from the illuminated tip of her wand. "I happen to have a class to teach in the morning."

"And a devilishly handsome Slytherin to drool over."

"Remember, Ginevra, you're sleeping in my bed. I have the power to send you out just as quick as I took you in," she lectures with a subdued smile. "Besides, devilishly handsome? I thought you weren't fond of Draco?"

"Oh, he's vial," Ginny sharply clarifies. "I never said he was ugly, however. Far from it. Unfortunately handsome, that bloke."

Hermione falls into her pillows with her arms lazily hung above her head. She blankly stares at the ceiling with a prolonged sigh.

"Unfortunately handsome indeed."

One Week Later

The professors of Defensive Charms stick around following their last class of the day. Hermione joins them, casually entering the classroom with a tray of three coffees.

The Transfiguration professor was aware that Harry and Draco tended to utilize this rare moment of free time to grade homework after class, and she needed to find a way to corner the Slytherin.

So, she turned to the caffeinated beverages as leverage.

Hermione wordlessly hands one over to Harry who silently thanks her before she turns to Draco. He's hunched over at his desk and behaves as if he hadn't noticed her presence in the room.

"You've been avoiding me in the halls," Hermione states matter-of-factly. She sets the coffee onto his desk with a docile smile.

Draco peers up at her with his chin tilted downward. He does a quick twirl of the quill in hand and shakes his head while looking back to the ungraded piece of homework beneath him. "I've done no such thing."

The unexpected lack of a sassy follow up delays Hermione as she stands there, feeling a fool, for seconds on end. "Harry? A moment please?"

Harry furrows his eyebrows at her, receives a death stare, and rolls his eyes before grabbing his briefcase. "You have two minutes, Hermione."

"Five."

"Three."

"Fine."

Draco pounds his fist against the desk wildly looking between the two. "How does zero sound?"

Harry plays it smart by ignoring his grumpy comrade and follows through with giving them a moment of privacy.

The moment the door closes behind him, Hermione thuds the bookbag from around her shoulder onto one of the students desks. She crouches at the desk across from Draco at eye level and places both forearms flat against the surface.

"I apologize for the way things ended last week," she begins. "I fumbled with my wording; I just panicked."

After a few elongated blinks he replies, "Honestly, Granger, I don't understand what you're talking about."

"Is this about Ginny?" she inquires. "She didn't mean to be rude. She's just protective, and-"

"I don't have time for this childish rubbish!" he snaps. "Can't you see I'm busy?"

The speechless Gryffindor observes his haggard and unkempt appearance; similar to the beginning of the year when he was in way over his head. He has prominent purple circles beneath each stormy grey eye, his light blond hair doesn't appear to have had a brush combed through it in days, his dress shirt is wrinkled and his tie sloppily hangs half-loosened around his neck.

"Are you alright?" The words fall out of her mouth quicker than she could hold them back.

And she wished that she had.

Draco glares at her with an unmistakable look of frustration and resentment. She hadn't seen this mood, this side of him since.. well, since 10 years ago.

There was something different about him.

It was as if a dark cloud lingered over his head, engulfing him in raindrops of misery. The lifeless look in his eye was eerily similar to the way he'd look at her back when he disregarded her as a wasteful race; cold and emotionally void.

The door slowly creaks open as Harry silently enters the room while checking his watch. Draco looks to Hermione with an enforced smile, irritated that she had been meticulously observing his sloppy appearance. "Your three minutes are up, Granger."

"It was actually five," Harry corrects.

"Time flies when you're having fun," Draco mutters full of snark. After briefly glancing at her one last time, he turns his attention back to the document beneath him.

Hermione slams both palms against the desk as she raises herself to her feet. "Fine. I won't waste your precious time any longer."

She hurriedly retrieves her things and snatches the fresh cup of coffee from his desk. His eyes longingly follow the hot beverage now back in her possession. Unfortunately for him, the attitude he had thrown her way wasn't making her feel very giving.

Both men flinch as the door harshly slams shut and echoes throughout the dome shaped classroom.

Draco's eyes flicker to Harry who stands to the side of the room, curiously observing him as he straightens his desk. "I see that the honeymoon phase is over," he notes with a smirk.

"There would have had to of been a honeymoon in order for such to take place, Potter." Draco grabs a stack of papers and straightens them against the surface of his desk.

The Gryffindor folds his arms as he slowly puts one foot in front of the other on his way to the Slytherin's desk. "So, are you going to tell me what's going on with you? You look like rubbish."

Draco gives a dismissive wave of his hand as the other picks the quill back up.

"You're acting dodgy," Harry adamantly insists. "Forgive me- dodgier than normal."

"That's it!" Draco shoves his chair back furiously shaking his head. He begins to shove loose papers into his bookbag, some of them scattering across the floor. "Can't get an ounce of bloody work done around here!"

As he storms from behind his desk, his colleague blocks him off. "Not so fast, Malfoy."

The look of pure hatred and agitation from the Slytherin was nothing new to the Gryffindor, and frankly doesn't faze him.

So, he continues to press.

"If you were aware of something that I should know, you would tell me. Wouldn't you?" He speaks in more of a demanding manner than as a question.

"If I felt it was deemed necessary."

Harry lets out an exasperated sigh and closes his eyes as he slowly repeats, "If you were aware of something that I should know, Malfoy, you would tell me. Yes?"

"Fucking hell; yes!" Draco aggressively shoves his shoulder against Harry's in passing as he storms out of their shared classroom.

Victoire closes her eyes with intent concentration. Slowly raising her right hand, she spreads out all five fingers. A flame, the same size as from a match, erupts from each fingertip as her eyes gradually flutter open.

"That's bloody brilliant!" Teddy holds the bottom of her hand in sheer amazement, his eyes hypnotized by the subdued flames.

"1/8th Veela," she proudly announces. "See? We all have our odd tendencies."

"Odd?!" he shouts with a smile. "More like fucking bad ass!"

"Teddy?" His grandmother calls through the bedroom door. Victoire viciously shakes her hand promptly extinguishing the flames. "What did I tell you about keeping your door closed when company is over?"

The gong of the doorbell echoes throughout his grandmother's house.

"Uh, sorry gran." Teddy guiltily looks to Victoire as his hand nears the doorknob. With a profound cringe on both of their faces he slowly unlocks the door. Luckily for them, by the time he had opened it, his grandmother was already on her way to answer the front door.

Draco knew he had to face his family. He had been putting it off for weeks and could never bring himself to do it.

Unfortunately, he simply didn't have the choice to run any longer. His back was up against a wall and his options had rapidly depleted.

"Draco; what are you doing here?" Andromeda hisses looking over her shoulder.

"I believe you requested my presence, not so long ago."

"You couldn't have phoned me before just showing up?" The woman with dark brunette hair and prominent strands of grey glances between himself and someone approaching her from behind. "I have company."

"Precisely," he slowly replies. "Thus why I'm standing here."

"Andromeda? Is someone here?"

Draco's heart flutters at the sound of the maternal warmth in the woman's voice. He resented her, and even believed he loathed her at times, but the woman who was now standing before his eyes was still his mother at the end of the day.

"Hello Mother."

"Draco." Narcissa clutches both fists close to her mouth as her eyes water. "Oh, how I've missed you."

"I've come here on unforeseen circumstances." He coolly shoves his hands in both pockets while maintaining fierce eye contact. "I possess no intention to rekindle a relationship with you," he rigidly informs.

"Of course. I'm- I'm sorry." Narcissa's voice fades as she nervously tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, her chest lightly heaving.

Her appearance had drastically changed. Her signature Cruella Da Ville colored hair was now died all black. The red lipstick that Draco had grown accustomed to all of his life was no longer existent, as she was barely wearing a trace of makeup.

The biggest change, however, was the lack of elegant overpriced clothing and lavish jewelry. Her sour, puckered smirk had also transitioned to a toothy smile.

"Well, come in darling," she insists eagerly looking between her son and older sister.

Andromeda briefly raises both eyebrows as a begrudging acceptance into her house.

They enter the humble town home; quaint, modest and about 1/10th of the size of the Manor. Draco follows the women to the kitchen where his mother heads straight for the self-serve bar. She offers to make him a drink but her son denies.

The afflicted young man frankly didn't trust consuming anything served by his disloyal mother and resentful aunt.

In this climate, he could trust no one but himself.

Narcissa's shaky hand pours herself a martini as the rim of the glass overflows. Her other hand nervously touches her face and the back of her neck as she tries to catch a good look at her son from the corner of her eye.

Unfortunately for her, Draco had mastered the side eye assessment, causing her to quickly break eye contact.

"I have important matters to discuss with you, Mother." He watches her guzzle the drink in almost one sip. She had never been a heavy drinker, in the middle of the afternoon nonetheless, but being married to the devil most likely influenced such. "Father orders my presence on Friday evening in Knockturn Alley. Prominent death threats have been made if I fail to grant his wish."

A hand is instantly pressed against her heart as Narcissa's saddened eyes search her son's face. Andromeda sympathetically looks to her sister as her tense body language unravels and softens.

"I've found that I possess no option other than to turn to you."

Teddy suddenly curves from around the corner with an earphone in one ear that's plugged into a handheld music player. Soon thereafter Victoire rushes to his side holding a muggles CD player that she had borrowed from her grandfather.

"Oh bloody hell, another Weasley popping up on me?!" Draco groans rubbing a hand over his eyes.

"What're you doing here, Mr. Malfoy?" Victoire shoots back with a disapproving glare. "Don't think we get enough of you at school?"

"This happens to be my mother, Ms. Weasley." Draco matches her glare. "How long have you lot been standing there eavesdropping?"

"Oh, the whole 'being murdered if you don't meet with your father on Friday' thing? Yeah, we heard that." Teddy casually pulls the other headphone out and nonchalantly wraps them around the device in hand.

"I tried to warn that I had company, Draco," Andromeda points out. "Harry and Luna are at a doctor appointment for the baby."

Draco momentarily turns to his mother and aunt with intentionally the fakest smile possible. "A moment, please." He promptly points to Teddy and Victoire and slashes his thumb in the other direction silently ordering them to follow behind him.

Once they end up in the backyard their teacher briefly raises his eyebrows and narrows his eyes. "I'm unsure what you think you may have just heard in there.." He places both hands on his knees and lowers his voice as he adds, "However, you would understand, if I were to request your confidentiality?"

"And you would understand how you made an error when grading my essay and gave me a B minus last week?" Victoire replies with a slick smirk. "Looked more like an A minus to me, right Ted?"

"Shut it Vic." Teddy rolls his eyes as her jaw drops in shock. "This is serious shit. If what he wants is our silence, then so be it."

Victoire groans and sends each of the men a death glare before stomping off inside.

Draco places both hands in his pockets with his eyes on the ground. "You've been aware that my mother has been residing here?" He takes one step toward Teddy and looks him directly in the eyes.

Head nod.

"And you've withheld this information from Potter?"

Head nod.

"Why would you do such a thing?"

"Because," Teddy sighs. "Didn't want to give you another reason to hate me."

"I don't hate you, Theodore." An uncalled for, unwelcome bump grows in Draco's throat that he adamantly swallows back. "Quite the contrary."

"I'm not going to try to get anything out of you," Teddy lightly jokes. "I'll save my breath."

"You're a wise man," he replies with a light smile.

Teddy forces a crooked smile while sullenly looking to the ground. After an elongated head nod in slow motion, the younger cousin silently dismisses himself.

"Theodore?"

"Yeah?"

"I apologize for not being present over the holiday," Draco states above a whisper. "I hope you understand that I'm a man of my word."

The Hufflepuff replies by giving a genuine head nod. "Yeah, you are. You're kind of a dick, but I've always looked up to you.. for some reason."

"Because you're a wise man," the Slytherin repeats with a widening smirk. He places a firm hand on both of his cousin's shoulders enforcing eye contact. "Teddy; I give you my word that it was not what I wished for. I desire nothing more than to possess a relationship with a family member who isn't criminally insane."

Teddy purses his lips to the side with a light smile as his eyesight drags to someone behind his cousin.

Draco turns to find Andromeda standing in the doorway to the patio with her head leaned against the wall.

"What is with this place and listening in on bloody conversations?!" he fumes.

Andromeda lowers her eyebrows with a tamed smile. "Run along, Teddy." Her grandson follows orders and plugs both headphones in his ears before running off to find his friend.

"I must say; Theodore truly cares about you," she shamelessly admits. "Perhaps I was wrong about you. Perhaps people do change."

Draco glances through the window to the kitchen where he finds Narcissa softly crying. His heart aches, and his mind goes into a spiral of self-loathing turmoil. He thinks back to his blatant lie to Harry, the way he harshly blew off Hermione, the saddened confusion he had caused Teddy, his father's troublesome letter..

The several people he had indirectly killed as a Death Eater.

One of whom used to live in this very house.

After a silenced pause, he casually straightens his jacket and fiddles with his cufflinks. "I'd regretfully have to disagree, Andromeda. People never fully change."

Chapter Text

Draco sits with one ankle propped on his knee and his fingers intertwined in his lap. He holds a straightened unyielding posture against the back of the chair.

His mother sits adjacent to him on the couch next to her oldest sister.

“Let’s get straight to business, shall we?” Draco slowly looks to Narcissa with an impassive, emotionless expression. “I request your attendance during my meeting with father.” He abruptly raises a finger. “Forgive me,” he adds. “I demand your attendance.”

Narcissa’s eyebrows briefly raise while she fills an empty teacup with warm water from the tip of her wand. She straightens out her trembling hand before clenching it into a fist over and over.

Draco notices her shakiness and overall fractured composure.

But he doesn’t buy it.

Not for one second.

“Surely you’re already aware of father’s agenda. Tell me, did you construct the note yourself?” He condescendingly smirks tilting his head to the side. “Very well written, I must admit.”

“She had nothing to do with this letter you speak of,” Andromeda stoically defends. “Narcissa’s been staying here, as you know, for the last few weeks. Away from your father.”

Draco’s lips shutter holding back a defiant snicker. “My mother abandoned me for that pathetic excuse of a paternal figure. And I’m supposed to believe this rubbish? That she just up and left?”

“I escaped. I finally realized what your father had become.” Narcissa’s voice quivers as her eyes water. “I had to get out.”

A black object catches Draco’s attention from out of his peripheral. He turns to find a hauntingly familiar, bizarre creature staring straight at him through the backyard window. The raven with cat-like ears hops back and forth along the windowsill excitedly tilting its head side to side.

He lazily points to the mutated bird. “And which one of your friends is that, mother?”

Andromeda’s hair whips to side as she peers over her shoulder. “What are you talking about?”

“Is it Greyback? Is it Goyle? Is it Father?” Draco grills. “Amuse me; which Purist have you had following me around for months?”

Narcissa’s teacup comes slamming to the coffee table as she promptly stands to her feet. “I refuse to be patronized.” She snatches her wand once more and points it directly at the raven. Her shaky arm leads her aim in uneven circular motions.

“Reducto!” she shouts shattering the window. A bright blue light discharges from the tip of her wand, missing her target by inches. The bird dodges the charm and promptly flaps off out of view.

“Lower your bloody wand, Cissy!” Andromeda shouts with her wand now drawn at Narcissa.

Narcissa’s eyes regretfully squeeze shut as she promptly lowers her wand hand. They flutter open, rapidly blinking as a single tear streams down the side of her cheek.

“I need the both of you to leave immediately,” Andromeda lowly states with a calmed composure. “It’s become too dangerous having you here. My priority is Teddy, and I can’t keep your company as a secret from Harry any longer. It isn’t fair to him.”

Draco slowly nods in silent agreement. After all, he had just made a bold-faced lie to Harry and would rather not get caught.

“I-I understand.” Narcissa sniffs back a tear wiping the back of her hand beneath each eye. “I’ll just.. I’ll just go get my things.”

Draco remains seated with a protective hand held flat against his slacks where his wand lied. Andromeda sighs as she repairs the window; her wand now pointed in the direction of each shattered piece of glass that aligns against the wall.

“Are you really going to send your mother out on the streets, Draco?” she inquires keeping her attention on the repaired window. “Dodgy birds, and all?”

“This is as little responsibility on myself as it is yours, Andromeda.” His tone fails to deliver as hardened as before. “These were her decisions.”

His aunt’s eyes flicker to him as her arm lowers.

“Draco.” She says his name with recognizable warmth. “I’m aware that your mother hurt you. She’s hurt me too; greatly. But she needs you. Otherwise, you may lose her.. forever.”

Andromeda observes her nephew staring off into the distance and she’s unsure whether he’s even listening.

But she continues anyway.

“She’s been worried sick about you. A mother’s love is unbreakable. Take it from me; I lost Teddy’s mother in the Battle. Cissy is aware how lucky she is; having you sitting here.. just simply breathing..”

Draco stiffly turns his neck just enough to peer at his aunt from the corner of his eyes. He had never experienced this approach from her; treated as an equal with genuine heartfelt sympathy.

“I can assure that your mother has had zero affiliation with Lucius since showing up on my doorstep; desperate and afraid. I’ve never given you reason to distrust me.”

“Likewise,” Draco mutters as his eyes drag to meet hers. He rests his forehead against his fist letting out a sigh. After a pause he mutters, “I suppose I’ll need to be aware of my mother’s whereabouts in order to ensure her attendance with my father. I’ll allow her to stay at the Manor.”

Andromeda lightly smiles placing a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you, Draco. You’re doing the right thing.”

“If I may I make one request.” He stands to his feet casually shoving both hands in his front pockets.

Her lips purse into a sideways smile as her arms fold. “What do you want, Draco?”

“I wish for you to allow a relationship between myself and Theodore.” His sincere icy blue eyes pierce through hers. “I have my issues; I’m a complex man. But I care for your grandson, Andromeda. A rather obnoxious amount, really..”

“I will allow it.” Andromeda complies with much more ease than previously assumed. “I owe you an apology,” she confides. “As I stated earlier; I had the wrong idea about you. You truly care for your family, and we’re your family.”

Before she has the chance to process the realization that Draco had wrapped his arms around her, Andromeda welcomingly embraces him into a tight hug. His entire demeanor greatly brightens as he takes a step back with a silent nod of gratitude. “Thank you, Andromeda.”

Teddy waits on his grandmother’s porch while Victoire finishes gathering her things inside. He knew that their escort back to Harry’s would be arriving soon, and believed it was in the best interest of everyone to allow the privacy of those inside.

The rushed ‘family reunion’ of sorts should remain between Draco, Narcissa, and Andromeda for now. He believed that he and Victoire had already unintentionally intruded enough.

“Hi Ms. Granger,” Teddy briskly greets.

“Teddy.” She tilts her head to the side with a smile of endearment. “How many times must I tell you to call me Hermione? Only in class is it appropriate for you to address me otherwise.”

“Still getting used to it. Who’s your friend?”

“Well aren’t you cute?” Ginny chirps with a coy smile. “The Clash is one of my favorites as well,” she notes pointing to his t-shirt.

“Wicked.” Teddy smiles as he pushes the long choppy bangs from his eyes. “I like your friend,” he notes to Hermione.

“Where’s Vic?” Ginny asks looking between the two. “I was told she’d be here. I’m honored to be the first to teach her to travel by floo powder.”

“Wait- how do you know Vic?”

“I’m only her favorite aunt, of course,” she replies with lowered brows.

“Oh! You must be Auntie Ginny.” Teddy extends his arm and shakes her hand. “.. and Harry’s ex-girlfriend.”

Ginny momentarily winces as she tilts her head to the side. “Let’s stick with Auntie Ginny,” she replies with a quick wink.

“Shall I go grab Vic?” Hermione inquires as she glances to her watch. “I must get home soon. I have yet to finish constructing my agenda for tomorrows class.”

Teddy nervously fidgets with his fingers as she approaches the doorstep. “No, no. Don’t worry,” he hurriedly spits out. “Vic should be out any second.”

The Transfiguration professor instantly picks up on his nervous mannerisms and raises a skeptical brow. He lets out a deep sigh as she passes him on the porch.

Hermione promptly takes a step back from the door as it creaks open. She loses most of the oxygen in her lungs as Narcissa Malfoy breezes straight past her.

Narcissa momentarily glances at her, her head held pridefully high, and stares straight through her. She glides past the three on her mission toward the street.

Draco follows directly behind his mother, his head held equally high, but his pace falters once he lays eyes on Hermione. Her head slowly shakes in dismay with a relaxed hand held over her heart.

Victoire soon comes flying out the door juggling a stack of textbooks in her arms.

Teddy nervously readjusts the backpack on his shoulder and raises an awkward hand in greeting. “Hey Vic! Brillianttiming,” he groans.

“Sorry for..” Victoire’s voice fades as she looks at the peculiar gathering of people on the porch. “.. the wait.” Her eyes eventually trail to her surprise guest brightening up her face. “Auntie Ginny!”

Ginny smiles, spreading her arms wide and bringing her niece in for a hug. After placing a quick kiss on the top of her head she guides Victoire away from the door. “Teddy,” she whispers with a light nudge. “Let’s go wait over there, shall we?”

Teddy uncomfortably scratches the back of his neck as he edges toward Draco and Hermione. Their frenzied emotions are exposed with each rapid breath visible against the frigid air.

Narcissa impatiently calls for her son, holding a beat-up suitcase and a coat draped over her arm.

Draco breaks from the trance peering over Hermione’s shoulder. “Mother.” He wiggles a finger toward himself. “A word please.”

Ginny smacks Hermione on the back of her arm and vehemently flicks her hands in the opposite direction. She snakes a protective arm around Victoire’s and Teddy’s shoulders guiding them from the porch with Hermione close behind.

“You will be staying with me at the Manor,” Draco rigidly instructs his mother within earshot.

“Oh, Draco,” Narcissa’s voice quivers. “Thank you.”

“I’m not doing this for you,” he barks. “It’s merely my duty.”

Hermione promptly freezes in place.

Ginny fails to grab her arm in time as she storms off in the opposite direction. She sighs while muttering to herself, “Here we go..”

“Draco, what on Earth do you think you’re doing?” Hermione uncontrollably ambushes Draco and Narcissa, a feeling of warm rage pounding her chest. She daringly points directly at Narcissa who is just inches away as she shouts, “What the bloody hell is she doing here?!”

Draco waves the back of his hand at his mother, who scowls at Hermione, encouraging a moment of privacy. Narcissa peers down her nose at them with a soured expression of displeasure.

However, she was left with no option other than to obey her son’s orders under his hospitality.

So she saunters away.

“I could ask you the same, Granger,” Draco lowly states.

“I happen to be Harry’s best friend,” Hermione fumes placing both hands on her hips. “I happily assist Teddy whenever Harry needs.”

“Brilliant,” he blandly replies. He rolls his shoulders glancing to Narcissa waiting behind her. “I mustn’t keep my mother waiting. And you mustn’t keep Potter waiting; go on.”

Hermione tightly folds her arms over herself with her lips pressed into a thin line. Her fists clench, withholding the temptation to draw her wand and transform Draco into the very snake he was being in the moment.

Refusing the allowance of another moment to humiliate her further, Hermione huffs and flicks her hair over her shoulder before stomping toward Ginny and the children.

Her pace hesitates as she turns back to him one last time. The Slytherin stares back at her aloofly placing a supportive hand on his mother’s back.

“Grab my arm,” Hermione harshly orders Teddy without looking to him. Victoire mirrors his actions, grasping Ginny’s. “Hold tight.”

Within the blink of an eye, they postpone their teaching of floo powder, and apparate straight off the premises.

Later That Evening

Hermione soaks in her bathtub with a glass of wine and lavender candles that soothingly oscillate above her. Ginny was in the kitchen washing dishes; cleaning and tidying things up ‘like a muggle’ as she tended to do when stressed.

Once Hermione dries her hair and wraps herself in a warm robe, she exits the bathroom ready for bed. If there was any chance of making it to class tomorrow she had to at least try to get in some sleep.

She gasps in shock once she finds Draco facing her, his body slouched over, sitting on top of her bed.

“Draco,” she sighs.  

“Granger.” His voice is raspy and he neglects to look up at her.

Hermione cautiously nears him with one foot slowly trailing after the other. She passes her side table picking up her wand.

Draco’s overall distant demeanor is eerie. It appeared as if he had been sleepwalking and ended up in her bedroom in some confused, motionless daze.

“What’re you doing here? Surely your mother is waiting for you,” she mocks.

Draco lets out a harsh breath as the bottoms of his palms rub against both eyes. “I’m sorry, Hermione.” He speaks so lowly she can barely hear him.

“You’re what?” she tests, genuinely surprised by his submissive behavior.

“I’ve only ever wished to protect you,” he hoarsely whispers.

“You being here, at a mudblood’s house, is your idea of protecting me?”

He winces at her comment weakly shaking his head.

“Explain yourself!” she shouts causing him to jolt. She holds her wand inches from his hung head. “I put my trust in you; we all did! How could you make me out to be such a fool?”

Draco whimpers as he leans over the bed burying his hands in his hair. Her hardened demeanor softens at the heart wrenching audible noises escaping his mouth.

All she can make out is the outline of his body as the room is pitch black aside from the moonlight projected through the window above her bed.

It sounds like he’s lightly crying with minimal capacitated oxygen to spare.

Her jittering wand hand hesitantly lowers as she extends her other arm. He allows her to place her hand on his quivering shoulder while failing to look up to her. Her fingers slide from his shoulder to the dip between his neck and collar bone.

Draco lets out a long sigh, erratically breathing, as Hermione takes a seat beside him on the bed. She strokes his back as her eyes begin to concernedly scan him.

“Draco,” she says softly. “Talk to me.”

“You can trust me.” It’s the only defense, the only words, he’s capable of delivering at the moment. He falls back against the bed staring into the darkness.

Hermione’s mouth opens several times before defeatedly closing it. Her body uncontrollably gravitates toward his, the left side of her body lying on top of the sheets beside him. She perches her elbow against the surface and stabilizes her head on her fist as she peers down at him.

Draco’s eyes are shut and his eyebrows are lightly pinched together. But for once, for some reason, he appeared to be at peace. She places a dainty hand on his chest, feeling it rise and fall with each bated breath. Her thumb affectionately strokes against him in a rhythmic motion.

“Will you allow me to..” Draco’s voice drifts off before he resumes. “.. May I lay here for a little while?”

“Yes,” she whispers nuzzling her face against his neck. She keeps a protective arm draped across his torso.

Hermione had so many questions: Where was Narcissa now? Why was she and Draco at Andromeda’s house in the first place? Was this all part to a strategy in gaining Lucius’ gratification?

All she did know, was that the uncharacteristic vulnerable behavior he was exuding reveled that there were detrimental pieces to the puzzle missing. Hermione simply didn’t know the full story, and she was smart enough to come to terms with that.

Her jumbled distressful thoughts are interrupted by guttural deep breathing. She slowly retracts her hand and raises her head to find that Draco had fallen into a deep sleep within a matter of seconds.

The bedroom door clicks open flooding the room with light. The lighting withholds Hermione from reading the expression on Ginny’s face. She glances back to Draco; now lightly snoring and gradually adjusting onto his side.

She watches Ginny’s silhouette draw her wand pointing it into the room. Two pillows perpendicular to Draco levitate from the bed and slowly trail into her arms.

“I suppose I’ll take this as a valid reason to sleep on the couch tonight,” she viciously whispers.

The minimal illumination from the tip of Ginny’s wand reveals a tamed smile of support.

Clearly Ginny was just as conflicted over Draco’s unpredicted actions as the next. But she trusted Hermione’s judgement, and was attuned to the fact that her friend was the best source of comfort for the affectionately starved Slytherin.

Everyone deserved someone to turn to in their darkest hours; even Draco Malfoy.

Hermione smiles to Ginny as she resumes her positioning curled up next to Draco. She mouths ‘thank you’ to her best friend as the bedroom door softly closes shut.

And there they fell asleep, horizontally across the bed; both of their legs hanging from the sides, with Hermione’s hand held in Draco’s over his heart.

Chapter Text

Draco wakes with a start, sharply inhaling as he hoists himself against his elbows. He sits up in Hermione's bed with legs spread apart. He turns from side to side observing her bedroom; quaint, tidy and much easier to see in the daylight.

Hermione stirs in her sleep beside him as she turns on her side facing him. She's still in her bathrobe with nothing but her panties underneath. His hand reaches out and readjusts the opening to the front, ensuring that she remains properly concealed.

After using the tips of his fingers to push a few wispy bangs from out of her eyes they slowly flutter open. He retracts his hand as she rapidly blinks against the rising sun.

"Good morning," she whispers. Her hazel brown eyes stare into his baby blues; distinctively greyer in the morning.

Draco's eyebrows are concernedly lowered. His eyes take their time scanning her face while deep in thought.

"In regards to yesterday.." he blurts. "I was.."

He licks his lower lip and bites down on it while pausing. It was obvious that the words were struggling to come together.

"Last night.. I was in a state of weakness." He re-starts the sentence once more and takes a deep breath. "I apologize.. for my behavior-"

Hermione's places a delicate finger over his lips silencing him. "There's no need to apologize for snoring, Draco." His face sours as she adds, "It's perfectly natural."

Draco chuckles, diminishing to a slow head shake with narrowed eyes. "Clearly that's a lie, Granger."

Hermione yawns, her lips rising at the corners, as she stretches across the bed. She then closes the space between them and nuzzles her nose against his neck.

While glancing up at him she finds that his eyes are peculiarly focused on something beneath the covers. She tilts her chin and peers at her exposed inner forearm facing up; the term Mudblood carved in her left arm.

Her smile decreases to a frown as Hermione self-consciously pulls the sleeve of her robe that's too short to cover the scar.

Draco gently brushes her hand out of the away and delicately raises her arm. He bows his head, planting a few soft kisses along the mark before stroking his thumb over it. Her forehead wrinkles as he solemnly looks up at her through his eyelashes.

After a moment she snatches his left arm freezing him in place. Following suit, she gradually turns his wrist upward. She curiously tugs at his sleeve eventually revealing what remained of the Dark Mark on his inner forearm.

It was located in the exact same positioning on the same arm.

She can't help but gawk at it. She'd never seen the mark up close before.

Although most of its dark coloring had vanished, the original outline remains like a faded tattoo. She traces her fingertips along the muddled symbol of the fallen Dark Lord.

Hermione was admittedly naïve to the haunting symbol. She understood the basics of the Dark Mark and the functions that it provided for Voldemort at the height of his time, but seeing it in the flesh instigated a roster of questions and curiosity.

The sensation of her fingernails running across the faded print causes him to wince.

"Does it hurt?" she asks delicately.

"Just to look at," he sighs. "If only you were aware of the number of hours I've spent; trying to get rid of this sadistic blotch on my arm. The number of failed spells, potions, herbs.."

An uncomfortable crooked smile crosses her lips. "I could say the same." She instinctively tugs on the robe sleeve once more. "Bloody ugly scar."

"It represents your strength, Hermione." She looks into his eyes as he adds, "I was there.. the day that it happened."

"I.. honestly had forgotten. Had other things on my mind, I suppose."

"I don't blame you. But I don't forget; I can't. Your screams.." He pauses, sucking in a strained breath. "Your screams haunted me for days.. weeks."

Hermione pouts at the memory as a lump grows in her throat. It was the most scared she had ever been in her life; the moment that Bellatrix Lestrange, Draco's late aunt, pinned her against the ground and engraved the heinous word into her arm.

"And when I see this.." he continues, tracing the back of his forefinger against her scar. "I'm reacquainted with the fact that I refuse to allow this abuse to continue, any longer, based off blind hatred."

They sit there in a moment of silence both unaware of what was yet to come.

These scars represented undoubtedly the darkest times in their life. And yet, they were about to enter the unknown; the next chapter.

Draco's eyelashes flutter a few times as he stiffly rests his head against the pillow.

Hermione strums the back of her knuckles against his cheek peering into his eyes. "It's not safe for you to be here, Draco."

"Does it look like I bloody care?"

"Well you should," she replies softly. "It's borderline irresponsible."

"Please." Draco retrieves her hand and raises it to his lips. He gently kisses the back of her hand while keeping strong eye contact. "Allow us to have this moment."

Hermione glances away before immediately looking back at him. The self-assured charming smirk on his face makes her melt, yielding to his embrace.

"And what of your mother?"

"Still figuring that part out," he answers in full sincerity. "All I ask of you, is to put your faith in me."

Sliding further beneath the sheets she glimpses at him hesitantly. "It's not as if I have much of a choice, do I?"

His body sinks beside her, an arm snaking around her waist. "I'll communicate my knowledge of the situation every step of the way."

He answers this time not so sincerely.

Only a handful of people were aware of Draco's scheduled meeting with his father tomorrow and he wished to keep it that way. The more information Hermione knew equivalated to the amount of danger she was up against as well.

The scar imprinted on her arm signified that alone.

Draco pulls the back of her knee toward him as she wraps her bare leg around his. She inches forward beneath the sheets; their legs intertwined, their faces merely centimeters apart.

"Okay," she whispers.

Their foreheads gently press together as he runs his fingertips along her thigh.

Hermione slowly raises her face and lightly nudges her nose so her lips can directly press against his. His grip tightens on her waist as she cups his face, deepening the kiss. A hand slides beneath her robe while digging his fingertips into the back of her thigh.

Draco throws her on her back and rolls on top of her while fluidly grinding his lower body against hers. She weaves her fingers in his hair and tugs his head to the side while running her lips down the length of his neck.

The front of his shirt is aggressively ripped open as some of the buttons sloppily pop off. He lifts his upper body momentarily, both of their chests heaving, while he yanks the shirt from off his shoulders.

He kisses her deeply and with a sense of passion she'd never received from him.

He was slow, taking his time, enjoying every second.

Draco's eyes seek hers for permission as he unties her robe. "May I?"

Hermione eagerly nods with her eyebrows pinched together. Her lips part with harsh breaths as he grabs his wand from the side table. He mutters an incantation under his breath she can barely make out.

She gasps as a set of invisible handcuffs grip each wrist and magnetize her arms against the head board over her head. She shimmies back and forth unable to move her upper body.

Her chest elevates, her back arching, as he keeps his hands firmly clasped on her hips from beneath the sheets. She stares down her nose at his frosty blonde hair, his mouth lowering from her neck to her chest. He plants soft kisses across her breasts and lightly massages them with his hands.

She exhales harshly as his tongue moves in circular motions against her nipples. He continues to hungrily kiss and nip at her body, his face moving down the slope of her stomach.

Her legs wiggle in anticipation as he sternly holds down each thigh against the mattress. He leaves soft kisses down her navel while disappearing beneath the covers.

Her body shivers as he pulls up each knee from underneath and positions his shoulders in between. A light whimper escapes her lips as he keeps her hips forcibly held against the bed.

"Hold still," he growls.

His hands slowly work their way down her torso gripping onto her hips. She feels the warmth of his breath between her thighs.

Her lower body is convulsing, and he had yet to even-

Beep beep beep.

The spell binding her wrists is instantly broken as Hermione's arms languidly flop to either side of the bed.

Draco collapses beneath the sheets cradling her lower body.

Beep beep beep beep.

Hermione groans, glancing to the blaring muggle digital clock on her side table.

"What the bloody hell is that?" Draco submerges from beneath the covers with the blankets wrapped around his head and his wand drawn.

Beep beep-

"Reducto!" The alarm clock abruptly bursts into tiny pieces spraying across the room.

"Draco!" Hermione scolds. His eyes dart back and forth as she covers her face, giggling erratically at the frenzied expression on his face. "You owe me a new alarm clock, you bloody git."

His cheeks flush in embarrassment as he defeatedly tosses his wand to the side.

"Why on Earth would you own one of those devices in your home?" he scoffs as she slips her legs from beneath the sheets. "And just where do you think you're going?"

"To the shower," she replies as he lashes the pile of blankets from off his head. "Classes start in two hours."

Draco dramatically rolls his eyes while running a hand through his hair. "Brilliant," he complains.

"Oh, don't be such a grump." As Hermione nears the bathroom she turns and curls a finger toward herself. "Come shower with me?"

Faster than the speed of light, he sloppily flails from the bed and obediently trails after her. She wraps her arms around his neck bending his upper body closer.

"We still have time to kill," she whispers in between kisses. "I think I'll skip breakfast for today."

Draco makes her yip as he swings her into both arms; one beneath her knees and the other supporting her back. He carries her to the shower as she giggles against his lips and keeps a safe tight grip around his shoulders.

Chapter Text

Later That Day

Teddy had been looking forward to today's class of Defensive Charms for weeks. It was where he and the rest of his classmates would be learning the usage of Patronuses. Draco was to teach his skill of occlumency; the ability to clear one's mind from being read by others, and Harry would be implementing the foundational skill of the incantation Expecto Patronum; creating the ability to focus on one's happiest memory for the protection of one's self through a Patronus.

The fusion was promised to create the ability to clear one's mind of invasive thoughts while simultaneously using a Patronus as protection from evil forces.

Teddy sits front and center beside Victoire and Jack. The three had become very close over the weeks and brought different assets to the group. The three students from Hufflepuff, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw created a unique special bond. And despite being a prideful Slytherin, Grayson Goyle tended to hang around the group. Even though he generally got along with them like oil and water, Grayson was a loner in Slytherin and found comfort in the trio of friends from different houses.

Harry stands at the front of the classroom as his eyes erratically search his desk. He races against the clock stacking each graded piece of homework into a neat pile. His eyes are droopy and he looks as though he hadn't slept in weeks.

Luna had given birth just four nights prior to a beautiful baby boy named James Sirius. He had blondish brown hair with bright green eyes that matched his father. Being a new parent was the biggest feat to date for the Gryffindor and also the most fulfilling.

The door to the classroom swings open and Teddy looks over his shoulder expecting to find his cousin. To his dismay someone much shorter and older stands in the doorway. The four-foot renowned Charms teacher with a defined middle part, mustache, and circular glasses waves a quick hand to the students.

With an animated smile and cheerful tone Professor Flitwick chirps, "Hello, students." He hops on top of a chair behind Draco's podium reaching eye level to the students. He coolly instructs, "Please open up your textbooks to page 32. Professor Potter and I shall be discussing-"

Teddy's hand shoots in the air. "Excuse me, professor." He looks to Harry as he adds, "But I thought we were learning about Patronuses today. Mr. Malfoy said-"

"Mr. Malfoy will not be in today," Flitwick replies placidly. "Therefore, such curriculum shall not initiate until he is present."

"Why's Malfoy not in class?" Grayson complains in resentment. "We all have to be here, don't we?"

Teddy narrows his eyes at Grayson. "Is he sick?" There's a level of noticeable concern in his voice.

"No.. no, I don't believe so." Flitwick clasps his hands together while hesitantly glancing to Harry. Harry absent mindedly yawns and rubs a thumb and forefinger over both eyes.

"Professor?" Victoire is next to raise her hand. "Does this have anything to do with those creepy birds that have been invading the school? I've read all about them.. well, at least tried to. The muggles have seen them loads of times."

The teachers are over ruled with gossip interchanged between the students. There had been several sightings of the rare species of bird lurking around Hogwarts within the last week. The mutated birds littered the campus, more of them multiplying by the day, from the Forbidden Forrest to the entrance to Hogsmeade.

In fact, Teddy's grandmother had given him a stern talking to in regards to the raven hybrid that she had located outside of her house the day prior. She wasn't sure what they were, yet was adamant that it was something sinister.

"Nothing to worry about my dear," Flitwick reassures. "Now.. page 32, please."

Teddy swings a leg over the table bench and takes a seat beside Victoire. He pulls an apple from his backpack and wipes it on the sleeve of his robe. "So are you coming with me, then?"

"I don't think it's a good idea," Victoire insists.

Jack turns the corner to find his friends in the courtyard. He casually throws his quidditch gear across the lunch table before removing the bookbag from over his shoulders. "Going with you where, my blue lad?"

"Draco's.. er, Professor Malfoy's." Teddy takes a bite of his apple. "Vic thinks that it's dangerous."

Jack removes the gloves from his hands and takes a next to Victoire swinging an arm around her shoulders. "Why so shy, love?"

"It's the Malfoy Manor." Victoire removes a textbook from her bag slamming it against the table. "Not the most inviting of places."

"Malfoy Manor?" Grayson's deep voice appears from behind startling them. "So when're we going?"

Victoire straightens her posture crossing her arms. "And just why exactly would you want to venture off to our professor's residence?"

"The Head of Slytherin's infamous mansion?" Grayson snickers. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Where exactly is this mansion?" Jack asks, ignoring Grayson's advances. "Can't imagine we can just pop up on the premises."

"We'll use floo powder." Teddy eagerly nods his head as he adds, "It'll be easy; I know how to do it."

"No you do not," Victoire snaps. "Auntie Ginny didn't have the chance to teach us yesterday. That dodgy scenario with Draco's mother ruined that.."

"I know how to travel by floo powder," Grayson interjects once more. "My mum taught me just last week."

Teddy smirks with half an eye roll. He turns to Victoire and nudges his shoulder against hers with his head tilted to the side. "So.. are you coming with us, then?"

Victoire groans while pulling out her pocket mirror. She casually runs a few fingers through her hair and purses her lips. "Well, someone has to keep an eye on you lot."

The four decided to meet near the fireplace well into the evening. After successfully teleporting to a shack outside of Wiltshire, they continue their mission to the Malfoy Manor.

It was a gloomy foggy night with near freezing temperatures.

"I can't believe you've got me to do this," Victoire complains to Teddy. She tightens the scarf around her neck and rubs her gloved hands together. "It's bloody starting to snow."

Teddy rubs the sides of her arms for warmth. "We're almost there."

They finish walking the long windy road and approach the entrance gate to the Malfoy Manor. The group of four stare up at the securely locked gate that's easily two stories high.

"Well now what do we do?" Grayson grips the metal bars while aggressively shimmying his shoulders.

"I have an idea." Jack casually shoves the Slytherin into a batch of bushes on the outliers of the gate.

"Oi you tosser!" Grayson grumbles as the shrubbery shakes around him.

"You're half way there, little lad!" Jack encourages with a snicker. "Do you see any way around?"

"Why would I tell you?!" he sneers, the plants shivering around his plump body as he weaves around the gate.

"Did you really have to shove him, Jackson?" Victoire scoffs. She pulls the beanie further down her forehead before ducking beneath the same batch of snow frosted bushes. Teddy is close on her tail and Jack follows suit.

They crawl through the tiny space that was only big enough for someone the size of a child to squeeze through. Once on the other side, they pick up the pace on their adamant mission to the Manor; now only feet away.

The entire mansion is illuminated with a yellowish daunting glow projected from numerous windows.

"At least we know he's home," Teddy notes. He's interrupted by Grayson returning Jack's favor from earlier; shoving him straight to the slick dampened ground.

Unfortunately for the Slytherin, the Gryffindor had an athletic build and much more muscle mass than the pudgy young man. Jack mounts him and gathers a sludgy pile of snow between his gloved hands. Grayson howls as Jack throws the batch of murky ice chips down the front of his shirt.

"Would the two of you shut it?" Victoire snaps. "Someone could hear us."

Jack chuckles and stands to his feet, offering Grayson a hand. The Slytherin slaps his hand away and brings himself to his feet in a rather sloppy manner.

"Look!" Teddy exclaims above a whisper. He directs a pointed finger through one of the large windows.

Draco sits at the head of his living room table; rigid as a board, placid expression, hands intertwined against the table, and an apathetic disposition. He stares off into the distance in some sort of entranced state.

They quickly sprint and crouch beneath the window while exchanging glances. "Well, are you content, then?" Grayson complains, spitting out particles of snow. He raises his head once more peering indoors. "Malfoy's right there; brooding. Seems perfectly normal to-" He sharply inhales as a male's figure joins Draco's side.

Teddy, Victoire and Jack stare at Grayson in thorough confusion. Off natural curiosity the rest of the group joins in looking through the window. The man that now stood beside Draco had a large build, brunette hair, and clearly held some significance to the snarky young Slytherin.

"That's my.." Grayson gulps as he takes a few steps back. "That's my FATHER!" he shouts.

Draco's neck instantly snaps their direction, peering directly at them through the window. The four of them gasp as he narrows his eyes and slowly shakes his head; his expression remaining unreadable.

Draco is quick to redirect his line of vision as someone approaches him with long whiteish blonde hair. Lucius Malfoy places a hand on his son's shoulder while circling behind his chair. He speaks in his ear as Draco's eyes flash to the four outside once more.

"That's.. that's.." Teddy's too afraid to spit out his name. "We've got to get out of here."

Lucius stops talking and tilts his head to the side while observing his son in suspicion. Draco's neck had snapped back in the other direction, but it was too late.

"Shit, duck!" Victoire hisses. The four huddle beneath the window with their backs held firmly against the wall. They all hold their breaths, their bodies lightly shaking, as the front door clicks open.

The sound of weighty boots thud against the cobblestone floor as someone approaches them. Teddy grabs Victoire's trembling hand as Jack throws an arm around them. Grayson remains curled up in a ball with his arms wrapped around his legs. His lower lip quivers as he looks up to the shadow approaching them.

A deep voice chuckles. "Thought I smelled something." A large creature, easily 7 feet tall, lurks over them. He's a beastly man with iridescent unhuman-like eyes and large fangs. His greasy hair is slicked back and his face is abnormally hairy. He points a chubby finger at Teddy. "Remus' son. I could never forget a Lupin."

Teddy's eyes widen as his eyebrows pinch together.

"Your dad and I have.. a history of sorts." Fenrir Greyback cracks his knuckles and neck from side to side while placing one fist in the other. "Ever had the desire to become a werewolf, just like your father, little boy?"

"Don't hurt him," Victoire pleads, her grip tightening on Teddy's hand.

Jack pulls his arm from around their shoulders and reaches into his coat. He staunchly draws his wand on the werewolf with fearless aim. Greyback cackles at the young man.

"Stupefy!" A burst of light explodes from the tip of Jack's wand and misses the werewolf's head by a few inches.

Greyback growls as one foot slowly follows the other toward the group. "That's the best you've got?" he taunts. A quadrant of ropes are expelled from the werewolf's wand onto each student individually.

They're now bound with their hands tied behind their backs; similar to the spell that Grayson had performed on Teddy during the beginning of the school year.

"No need to be rude to our guests, Mr. Greyback." Lucius exits the mansion looking down his nose at the four restrained students. A sinister smirk curls the corners of his lips as he extends an arm, his son joining his side. "Are these some of your little friends, Draco? Students, perhaps?"

Draco clenches his jaw over and over again. His enlarged eyes are on fire, closely focused on Teddy.

"Well, you know what to do, Fenrir," Lucius coolly demands. "Kill them."

Draco shakes his head without breaking eye contact with Teddy. "No," he states firmly. He physically cowers as his father yanks him by the lapels of his jacket.

"How dare you talk back to me?" Lucius hisses through pressed teeth. He fiercely backhands his son who stumbles back a few feet.

Draco winces as he runs a hand across his bright red-hot cheek. "The blue haired one is Harry Potter's godson," he states lowly. "We can utilize them as an asset. Collateral, of sorts."

Lucius snarls while folding his arms. He peers between Greyback and Draco in full contemplation. "Very well." After peering between the four students he adds, "Bring them to the dungeons."

Chapter Text

The dungeon is dark, dank and grim. A bone chilling gust rushes through the chambers. Teddy, Victoire, Grayson and Jack huddle together in a dim corner, horrified and freezing. They listen in as Lucius has a stern talking to his son.

"What exactly transpired during your attendance at that dreadful excuse for a school?" Lucius grills. "Planning a revolt, perhaps? With that Potter boy, nonetheless?"

"Indeed," Draco replies lowly. "I was manipulated; I had a moment of weakness."

"A mere moment? No- no, Draco. You've had a severe lapse in judgement; aligning with the enemy. You have disgraced the Malfoy name."

"I know that now, father. I have sinned. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me. But I've gained information; useful information that can be used to your advantage."

"There is hope for you yet, son. We will be having a sit down with the rest of my comrades, your comrades, to expose that bloody school of yours. Inform us of everything that you know, or pay the consequences. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes father."

Grayson paces the dungeon back and forth with his hands intertwined over his head, his elbows pointed out.

"Would you stop pacing?" Victoire protests.

"I don't know which conversation you're listening in on," Grayson fumes, pointing toward the gate. "But we're bloody trapped and Malfoy's gonna get us killed!"

"No he's not." Teddy stands to his feet dusting his pants off. "Don't you get it, Goyle? If it weren't for Draco, I'd have been turned into a werewolf and the rest of you would be dead by now. He has a plan."

Jack somberly plays with his wand that had been snapped in half by Greyback. "You have a lot of faith in him, little blue lad. Why is that?"

"He's my family."

Two Hours Later

Grayson sits in a damp corner by himself with his arms wrapped around his legs. He soothingly rocks himself back and forth. His head is buried in his lap and he nervously hums a loud tune to himself.

"Honestly, you're going to drive me mad," Victoire warns. She throws Teddy's arm from off her shoulders darting toward Grayson. "Stop humming, stop fidgeting. It's only been a couple of hours and you're going to drive us insane!"

"Piss off Vic," Grayson mutters against his knees. "We're on the brink of death; I'll do whatever I bloody please."

"I can't stand another moment in here with him!" Pulling up both sleeves, Victoire flattens her palms and sternly focuses on her hands. "I can't see a thing in here. We'll need light."

"What're you doing?" Teddy frets. "You don't know how to fully control your abilities yet."

Victoire slowly rubs her thumb over all four fingers in her right hand igniting a miniature flame from each fingertip. "We have to get out of here." She elevates her hand at eye level as she searches the corridor. "There must be a way out." The chamber illuminates every newly discovered section.

"Find anything, Vic?" Jack calls.

"No." The minimal lighting surrounding Victoire flickers into nothingness. "Shit," she hisses. Vehemently rubbing her hands together, a small fireball elevates from the palms of her hands.

"Vic," Teddy warns. "Put it out."

"I'm trying." She whimpers while juggling the fireball between her hands. After flicking her wrists, miniature embers fly across the ground.

"Vic!"

A small circle of fire surrounds Victoire as the flame transports from her hands to the floor. The flames slowly engulf the room, creeping closer to the guys on the other side of the chamber.

The group panics. All of their wands had been taken from them upon their arrival to the dungeons, aside from Jack's which was currently snapped in half.

"HELP!" Grayson shouts. He runs to the gate gripping the railing and violently shaking it. "Help us!"

"No one's going to hear us you wanker!" Jack panics. He uses one half of his wand flicking it toward the flames. "Aquamenti! Aquamenti!"

"AQUAMENTI!"

A sudden stream of water ejects from the other side of the gate hitting Grayson directly in the face and knocking him on his ass. It continues to stream into the chamber masking the flames. The fire promptly diminishes as a familiar voice nears the gate. "Teddy? Teddy are you there?"

"Harry?!" Teddy darts to the gate stumbling over his own feet.

"Reducto!" Hermione's voice is heard.

A spark is sent from her wand shattering the lock on the other side of the gate. It swings open as Harry, Hermione and Ron race into the dungeon.

"Uncle Ron!" Victoire cries. She runs into his arms as Teddy runs into Harry's.

"You know, I'm rather spooked myself, Ms. Granger." Jack drags his feet toward Hermione with arms held wide and a smirk on his face. "Could use a hug." Hermione gives half an eyeroll before providing a quick embrace.

"How did you get down here?" Teddy asks Harry. "Where's Draco?"

"Haven't seen him," Harry sighs. He squares Teddy's shoulders with his hands. "What were you thinking, coming to the Malfoy Manor with zero protection? Zero supervision?"

Teddy guiltily rubs the back of his neck as he looks between his friends. "We thought Mr. Malfoy was in trouble."

"And look where that got you!" Hermione reprimands.

"Ms. Granger, how did you all know we were here?" Victoire asks hesitantly.

"Did you really think that Harry, Ron and myself wouldn't have done the same sort of action back in our day?" Hermione lightly smiles. "The second Harry noticed that Teddy was missing, and Ron and Ginny missing Victoire, we knew it had to do with the disappearance of.. of Mr. Malfoy."

"Who cares how they found us?!" Grayson interjects. "Let's get the bloody hell out of here already!" He's the first to lead the pack out of the dungeon on his mission up the stairs. His pace slows as the staircase creaks with every step.

Harry passes him on the stairwell with cautious steps. They successfully emerge from the dungeon and slowly tiptoe their way across the living room. The mansion is dead silent and it seemed as though everyone had left. There was a fighting chance that they would make it out unscathed.

"Stay close," Harry whispers with his wand drawn. Teddy remains safely close behind holding Victoire's hand. Jack and Grayson trail behind them followed by Ron and Hermione.

They turn a corner to the kitchen. Harry stops in place causing a domino effect on those behind him.

Unexpectedly, Draco storms to the group with his wand drawn. "What are you doing here Potter?" he seethes, his wand pushed directly against Harry's neck.

"Draco!" Hermione gasps. "What do you think you're doing?!"

Draco side-eyes Hermione while his vision expeditiously transfers to Ron. The harsh pressure of his wand inches further into Harry's neck.

"The students can't leave," Draco calmly advises. "I strongly suggest the rest of your departure."

"Like hell," Ron speaks up. "Expelliarmus!"

The wand flies from Draco's hand and shoots into the sky. He takes a few steps back as Ron's wand inches closer to his face, held directly between his eyes.

"Do you know how long I've wished to do this, mate?" Ron whispers with a smirk. "Stupe-"

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Hermione shouts disarming Ron. The rattling of his wand rolls across the floor as the group stands frozen still. Hermione keeps a wobbly aim at Draco as she inches further. Her chest heaves as she peers into his eyes. "How dare you betray us?" her voice quivers.

Draco harshly swallows with a slow head shake.

"You've chosen the wrong witch to tamper with," she threatens. The grip on her wand tightens as Draco gradually raises his hands above shoulder level. He slowly backs away with a precarious gaze, his eyes obsessively interchanging between she and Ron.

"Go," Hermione instructs the rest. "Now."

After retrieving his wand, Ron assists Harry in escorting the children from out of the kitchen. "Hermione?" he calls. "Let's get on with it, then."

"Wait for me outside," she quietly instructs, her wand still directly drawn at Draco. "I have matters to discuss."

Ron pauses and looks between the two as the rest file out the front door. With a disappointed head shake, he takes a step on the porch and slams the door shut.

"I was only trying to protect them," Draco adamantly insists, his hands enthusiastically gesturing to Hermione. "We aren't safe to talk here. You're not safe." He rushes an anxious hand through his hair.

"And you really expect me to be so daft as to believe your concern?" A single tear streams down Hermione's cheek as her wand hand circles. "Did you ever even care for me, Draco? Was it just another shag? Another notch on your belt while you continued to deceit the entire wizarding community once more?"

"What's Weasley doing here?" He impulsively ignores her comment with eyes narrowed. "Did he come back for you?"

The off-topic invasive comment makes her blood boil. "How dare you? As if you have the right to treat me like a jealous boyfriend? All the while kidnapping your students? They trusted you; they endangered themselves for your safety!"

"I do care," he states firmly with a blaring hint of annoyance. "For you, and for the students. Now lower your bloody wand already and allow myself to explain."

The comment only aggravates her further. "I will do no such thing." Her shaky hand keeps direct aim at his forehead.

"I care," he repeats sternly. "I care deeply."

Hermione's arm stutters as she sluggishly lowers her arm. She keeps her eyes on his wand on the floor to ensure that he doesn't attempt to reach for it.

"My father has returned," Draco states with palpable anxiety. "And if I don't follow through with everything that he instructs, everything that he wishes; he's going to kill me."

Hermione swallows a harsh lump in her throat. "And how does this concern me? And the children?"

"If they escape, my father will become aware of it, and he will go searching for them. Searching for them at Hogwarts and stop at nothing. And how does this concern you, you ask?"

Hermione takes a step back, her wand hand raising once more, as he fearlessly approaches her.

Draco's eyes ignite into a stormy grey as he places both hands in his pockets. "You aren't going to hurt me Granger, so quit the act and put your bloody wand down."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because." He boldly reaches an arm toward her wand hand. Lightly covering his hand around hers, he demands her eyes. "I'm aware of your feelings for me, and you're aware of mine."

Hermione's body is shivering, her neck is held painfully stiff, and her cheeks are stained with tears. Draco interweaves his fingers with hers as he helps lower her wand. He uses his other hand to lightly trace the back of his knuckles across her cheek. She yields against his touch, her head tilting against his fingers.

"It wasn't just a shag," he whispers. "Truth is; as much as I've tried to run from it.. as much as it conflicts me to this very moment.. I've fallen in love with you Hermione." His fingers wrap around the back of her neck forcing her to stare into his eyes. "And you love me." He doesn't blink as he adds, "Admit it."

Hermione's eyebrows pinch together as she tries to catch her breath. Her eyes search for answers that his are unwilling to give. "I.." Her lower lip quivers as she squeezes her eyes shut. "I.." With one swift movement she thrashes her wand hand from his grasp and points it directly at his chest. "Stupefy!"

Hermione cups her mouth as Draco's body flies across the room, harshly colliding with a wall. He listlessly rolls to the floor upon impact. She gives one last look at him, knocked out on the floor, before shoving her wand back in her purse and rushing outside to meet the others.

Chapter Text

Upon Ron's arrival the Weasley family joined him in coming back to London and bought a new house. With a third war on the horizon, the infamous wizarding family knew the importance of every participant. They had lost one of their own in the Battle of Hogwarts which tore them apart greatly. But after years of separation, they felt it was their duty to return to the school that raised their entire family.

After departing the Malfoy Manor the group apparated to the Weasley residence. It wasn't well known as to where the new location was and served as a safe hiding place for the time being.

Hermione sits across from Ron, Ginny and Harry at the kitchen table. She peers out a frosted window in an entranced state. She holds a handheld book in one hand and a teacup in the other.

"Alright there, Hermione?" Ginny pours herself a cup of tea. "You've been doing that thing that you do when you're upset."

"And what is that?"

"Reading yourself into oblivion, of course." Her eyebrows lower as she takes a sip. "You've barely said a word since we got back."

"I'm not up for much conversation," Hermione replies distantly.

Ron irritably adjusts in his seat placing his forearms on the table. "Seemed like you were perfectly fine speaking with Malfoy."

Hermione raises the book in hand covering the scowl on her face. Her eyes dangerously scour her ex-boyfriend from over the top of her book.

Harry sighs resting his chin on his fist. "I know you trusted him, Hermione. Blimey, I even trusted him.. but he's up to no good."

Her chest rises, her eyes softening, as she looks to her best friend. "I know, Harry. It's just.. Draco told me that-"

"Told you what?" Ron interrupts. "That he's a bloody twit?"

Hermione fights to remain impassive. She couldn't allow her emotions to be presented on her face in front of her company. It was too adverse of a topic, and she herself didn't fully know what to believe.

Slamming her book closed with one hand, she silently excuses herself from the kitchen table and walks into the other room. Ron interchanges a confused look with Harry who raises his eyebrows at him in an encouraging manner.

"I'll uh.. I'll go see if she's alright." Ron self-assuredly nods his head while peering between his sister and Harry.

Ginny rolls her eyes and places her cup of tea down. Her eyes follow her brother, waiting for him to exit the room. "About time he came to his senses," she mutters.

Hermione stands in the living room with her back to Ron. Her arms are crossed and she leans on one hip to the side. She idly stares out the window exposing the snow flurry outside.

"'Mione," Ron says making her jump.

"Ronald," she gasps twirling toward him and placing a hand over her chest. "Scared the bloody day lights out of me."

"Sorry." He chuckles while awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

Hermione's eyes expeditiously scan him up and down. "It's alright."

"Not just for scaring you." His voice fades as he holds up a finger and shoves a hand in his front pocket. He pulls out a crumpled-up piece of paper that's balled up in the palm of his hand. "I, erm.. I wrote you this after the reunion. Was too afraid to ever send it, if I'm being honest.."

Hermione stands serenely still as she watches Ron scramble to open up the raggedy note. He presses a fist against his mouth and clears his throat before sloppily flattening the paper against his thigh. He visibly starts over on the first sentence a few times. A smile of endearment crosses her lips as his eyes nervously dart across the page.

"Oh bloody hell," he mutters under his breath. He grasps the piece of paper in each hand and slowly rips it in half. After disposing of the note on the ground he places both hands in his pockets and slowly shrugs. "I don't need a note to tell you what's on my mind."

The warm smile remains on Hermione's face as she takes a seat on the sofa. Her posture is rigid and her hands are held spread against her thighs.

Ron half trips over his shoelace on his way over to her. He takes a seat beside her and gives her a timid smile. "I'm sorry for how things ended at the reunion," he finally says. "I said things that I didn't necessarily mean."

"It's okay," she replies sympathetically. "Breakups are never.. easy. I don't believe there's proper instruction on how to perform one."

"Right," he says slowly. He's thrown off guard, as if he wasn't expecting her to take the conversation so well. "Do you ever wonder how things.. could have turned out?"

"You broke up with me, Ronald." Hermione defends. "That's not fair."

"I know; it's just.. when I saw Malfoy go after you right after we.. you know.. broke up, it only made things worse. That memory at the reunion frankly drives me mad."

Hermione looks to the ground and lets out a restrained breath. "Draco didn't 'come after me' in the manner that you're insinuating," she clarifies quoting with her fingers. "He came to inform that he would be taking the position at Hogwarts that I suggested."

"That's exactly what he'd want you to believe," Ron scoffs. He defeatedly closes his eyes and shakes his head. "And besides, look how that turned out."

Her eyes narrow as she tilts her head to the side. "So it's my fault, is it?"

"No one's fault but his own."

"I suppose so." The discomfort of the topic is palpable in her voice. Her eyebrows skeptically lower as she reclines in the seat against the pillow. "But it doesn't matter now, does it?"

"No, no I guess not." Ron takes a pillow from off the couch and tosses it to the side as he scoots closer to her. "At the reunion I believed I could never come back here; never come back to Hogwarts. But now that I've had time apart from the school.. time apart from you.. I've realized how greatly both meant to me."

Hermione glares out of the sides of her eyes at him. Her intense expression dissolves and her shoulders relax as they make eye contact.

"I miss your smile, Hermione." His tone changes to a friendlier, higher pitch. "I miss your laugh."

The corners of her lips gradually rise. "You've always made fun of my laugh; that my giggle sounds like-"

"A pack of hyenas," he notes with a smirk. "Doesn't mean it isn't bloody adorable."

"Ms. Granger!" Teddy suddenly enters the room at a running pace. His chest rises and falls as he eagerly catches his breath. "I have to speak with you."

Harry begrudgingly follows him into the room shaking his head. "I tried to stop him," he remorsefully advises. It wasn't the first time that he had trouble containing his erratic, heavily opinionated godson. However, Harry wouldn't change a thing about Teddy. He saw himself in the young man; at his age, he wouldn't pause at anyone's instruction.

"You believe Draco, don't you Ms. Granger?" Teddy deflects. "Harry still thinks he's guilty, but he doesn't know the full story. Surely you know the truth; you've always seen the good side in him!"

Ron suspiciously peers between the blue haired boy and his ex-girlfriend. "Is that right?"

Hermione's cheeks flush as she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. Nothing was more uncomfortable than outwardly addressing matters between her ex-boyfriend and the infamous Slytherin; the Slytherin who she had just slept with last week, unbeknownst to anyone other than she and Draco.

Victoire enters the room with her arms crossed. "I told him that he's guilty, Mr. Potter." She flicks a batch of hair behind her shoulder as her eyes go to the ceiling. "At least, I think.."

Hermione bites her lower lip while looking to the floor. She knew that it wasn't her place to interfere with Harry and his godson even though her beliefs were mainly at par with Teddy's.

"Greyback threatened to turn me into a werewolf just like my dad," Teddy insists. Hermione keeps a close eye on him as he speaks. "Draco was only trying to buy us time; do you really think he wouldn't know that you guys would come looking for us?"

"I don't know anything that's on that bloke's mind," Harry tiredly admits. "But I do know that he kept their presence as a secret when I told him to be nothing but transparent."

"What if we don't know everything?" Hermione blurts. "We only have so much information."

Ron's eyebrows lower with a flabbergasted head shake. "You can't be serious, Hermione."

"Draco needs our help," Teddy states firmly. "Who knows what's going on in that mansion as we speak."

Hermione decides to remain silent for the rest of the conversation. Her head was telling her that Draco was guilty and working with the Purists while her heart was telling her different. The young stubborn Hufflepuff only heightened her doubts in an automatic accusation against her love interest.

Draco couldn't sleep the entire night. He was attacked by Hermione after professing his true feelings for her, and was ordered to have an invasive meeting with the Purists' top commanders this morning. They would be interrogating him on his time of teaching at Hogwarts to figure out what exactly his motives were.

Draco sits at the head of the elongated dining table while waiting for his unwelcome guests. He finishes the malt whiskey that he had paired with his eggs for breakfast. He hears the fireplace ignite in the other room signaling his father's appearance.

He calmly folds the newspaper in his hands and flattens it against the table. He peeks his head out the entrance of the room to find Lucius, joined by three others, emerging from the living room.

"It's rather quiet in here." Lucius enters the room with his nose in the air. "I don't believe I hear the soothing sound of children's laughter."

Draco pours himself another glass of whiskey. "They're gone."

"What do you mean they're gone?"

"They escaped. Potter and his friends pulled yet another heroic act; saving his godson."

"Should have turned Lupin when I had the chance," Greyback grumbles curling his fingers into a fist.

Draco temporarily blacks out as he's wacked upside the head by his father's cane. His chair rocks to the side as he clutches the right side of his head. He pounds a fist against the table clenching his jaw.

"How could you be so foolish?" Lucius harshly reprimands. His upper lip curls as he adds, "Couldn't even contain a group of children for 12 hours for god's sake."

Draco inhales a shaky breath while keeping his eyesight on the table. His head was aching and his temper was through the roof. He decides to stay silent for as long as possible.

"We had originally come today in peace. We were to ask you a few questions and gain information. But now.." Lucius circles behind his son's chair placing both hands on his shoulders. "Now I find that I was being too lenient. We must take a different approach."

Draco's hands clench into fists against the table. "Whatever I have to do."

"Get up," Lucius hisses, shoving his son to the side once more. "Stand up and extend your arm." He reaches his left arm toward him with his fingers held spread apart.

Draco sneers at him. "What're you getting at?"

"What you will be getting at, Draco, is making a vow to me; a vow to the Purists. I've found that I have zero reason to trust you. Therefore, we must take much more of a drastic direction."

Draco subconsciously yanks on his tie, loosening it so it doesn't restrict his neck. His fingers curl around the knot of his tie as his eyes sullenly observe his father.

"Extend.. your arm," Lucius repeats. "You won't keep me waiting all day, will you?" His lips barely move as he speaks.

Gregory Goyle emerges from the shadows with a sinister grin on his face. Draco's childhood best friend removes the wand from his robes while approaching the Malfoys.

Draco simultaneously follows orders, his clammy hand reaching for his father's arm. He firmly grasps Lucius' forearm while his eyes fall to the floor. "An unbreakable vow," he states meekly. "To do what, exactly?"

"Come now, Draco. There's no need to be afraid." An amused smirk traces Lucius' lips. He cocks an eyebrow as his eyes devour the visibly timid young man before him. "In order for the Purists to make their first attack on Hogwarts, we must take out their strongest ally."

"Potter?" Draco mutters. "He's a new father.."

"Do I sense sympathy in your tone?" Lucius digs his nails into his son's forearm causing him to wince. "No, not that Potter boy. There are much greater threats, including the headmaster; wouldn't you agree?"

"McGonagall." Draco's bright blue eyes meet Lucius'. He blinks a few times and takes a deep breath. "You want me to kill McGonagall?"

"Very well done," Lucius patronizes with a head nod. "It wasn't so long ago that you were positioned with the same task of assassinating the headmaster and failed."

"I didn't fail." Draco tightens his grip with a slow head shake. "I was merely interrupted."

"Is that right?" The leader of the Purists narrows his eyes. "Let's see if there's any validity to your courage; if that's what you wish to call it. Goyle? Carry on."

Goyle clears his throat while eagerly pointing his wand at their arms. A stream of intricate glowing lights encase their forearms tightly wrapping their limbs together. It feels like the spell is painfully magnetizing them together, morphing them into one.

"Will you, Draco Malfoy, ensure the demise of Minerva McGonagall upon the Purists' attack on Hogwarts?"

Draco squeezes his eyes shut before opening them wide, daringly staring into his father's soulless eyes.

Without missing a beat he promises, "I will."

Goyle's smirk widens. "And will you sacrifice yourself, through this unbreakable vow, should you not carry out this noble task?"

The sides of Lucius' lips curl at the words. He gives a slow nod of encouragement. Draco maintains pristine eye contact, his shoulders tensing.

"I will."

Chapter Text

"I'm afraid we're on the brink of a third wizarding war," Professor McGonagall gloomily informs.

Harry sits next to Hermione in the headmistress' office. It was an exclusive emergency impromptu meeting regarding the revelation of the Purists' appearance. The pair had informed the headmistress on the events of yesterday at the Malfoy Manor including the kidnapping of four of their students.

Though Harry and Hermione didn't fully see eye to eye on the matter, Hermione was aware that the protection of the children was their top priority. The truth of whether Draco was guilty was bound to remain hidden for some time, and they didn't have the time to spare.

"I've been faced with no decision other than to place Hogwarts on lockdown," the headmistress advises. "All students and teachers must remain on the premises."

"And what of the curriculum?" Hermione asks. "What of Defensive Charms?"

"Classes shall resume, and Mr. Potter and Mr. Flitwick shall continue Defensive Charms in Mr. Malfoy's indefinite absence."

Harry nods his head in compliance. His hands steadily grip either end of his wand held against the table. He jolts in place as the doorknob from behind them jiggles. The group of teachers peer to one another as the door slowly creaks open.

Harry rigidly points his wand at the door as a precautionary measure. The door swings open to reveal Draco in normal uniform; wearing a black dress shirt and slacks along with a pine green tie.

Professor McGonagall emerges from behind her desk with her hands folded before herself. "Good afternoon, Mr. Malfoy."

"Headmistress," Draco replies stiffly. He casually makes his way to the front of the room with a briefcase held in one hand. His footsteps echo off the walls and high ceilings as he approaches the three.

Harry automatically stands from his chair, his wand still drawn, and slowly pivots toward Draco. "What are you doing here, Malfoy?"

"On my way to class, of course." Draco places his briefcase across one of the desks and tightens his tie with one hand. His feet slowly drag one after the other and he keeps his eyes on the ground. "However, based off recent events, I felt that a meeting between myself and the headmistress was mandatory."

Hermione stands to her feet and places an agile hand on Harry's arm. His wand hand falters while glaring at his best friend. In an unspoken manner, Harry rejects Hermione's request to lower his wand and instead points it more fiercely in Draco's direction.

Draco raises an eyebrow at the wand pointed in his face. "I come in peace." He raises his hands in view before gradually lowering them.

Harry remains perfectly still while maintaining pristine focus on his target. He looks to the headmistress for further instruction.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter; Ms. Granger." McGonagall closes both eyes before reopening them; exposing a fire from within. "I will take it from here."

"We're not leaving you," Hermione insists, her eyes darting between the headmistress and Harry.

"She's right," Harry affirms.

Draco slowly walks toward them with his hands held stiffly at his sides. "Stay here all you'd like; my father wishes for myself to keep a close eye on you lot, after all. However unfortunately for my father, he isn't aware of my agenda."

"And what agenda is that?"

"There's a war on the horizon, Potter. Surely someone such as yourself would be attuned to such events."

"Harry asked you what your agenda was," Hermione interjects with a slow head nod. "Go on, then. This is your chance."

Draco's face softens as his eyes delicately examine the woman before him. He calmly folds his arms behind himself and takes a few more steps toward her. "As I expressed last night, I was only trying to protect the children from the Purists. And now, I am acting off that same sentiment. Hogwarts needs my help."

"That's a strong statement, Mr. Malfoy." McGonagall professes. "Who's to say that you would be a useful asset during this time?"

"As an example of my loyalty, I'd like to disclose that I have reason to believe the Purists are targeting you, headmistress." Draco straightens his posture. "As such, you have my permission to utilize myself in any regard that you see fit."

McGonagall purses her lips as her head tilts to the side. She takes a few steps back and lowers herself into her desk chair. She composedly folds both hands on top of the other against the desk. With a slow head nod she encourages him to continue.

Draco neglects to look at Harry and Hermione while approaching their side. He grabs an empty chair, scoots it up to the desk and calmly takes a seat across from the headmistress. "The Purists plan to make their initial attack on Hogwarts on the first of December. Once the attack happens, it'd be in your best interest to accompany myself during that time period," he advises.

Harry takes a couple of steps toward the office door with his wand remained pointed at Draco. Hermione joins Harry's side allowing a moment of solitude between the blonde and the elderly witch.

"That would require a great amount of trust, Mr. Malfoy; a great amount of trust that I believe has yet to be established between the two of us."

With half a smile, Draco mirrors McGonagall's body language; placing both hands in a visible location against the desk. "I'm afraid that our time is limited in creating such. My father is aware of your strength; being one of the strongest witches on the planet. Following Dumbledore's footsteps, you've withheld the most prestigious of wizarding schools which is a direct threat to the Purists. I wish to continue to gain information from them and relay the intel to you."

McGonagall takes a deep breath while tapping her fingers against the desk. "What's your plan?" she asks simply.

"I remember a man, not so long ago, who risked everything he had.. everything he knew, just for the sake of his fallen beloved's son." Draco pushes up the sleeves to his shirt while leaning forward in his seat. His voice lowers as he adds, "He worked as a double agent; some would call it. Care to fill in the blanks?"

"Snape," Harry speaks up from behind. "You plan on working both sides, do you?"

"On the contrary, Potter, I wish to remain loyal to one side only. And that's what I've come here to make clear; I possess little interest in supporting my father's reign of terror."

"Then prove it," Hermione fiercely demands. "Prove to us that what you say is nothing more than a load of rubbish."

"Allow myself the chance."

McGonagall keeps close focus on Draco, her arms now tightly folded against her chest. "You're still sitting here, and not currently on a one-way trip to Azkaban. Doesn't that say enough?"

"Precisely, headmistress," Draco confidently replies. "I am forever indebted to your faith in me.. ever since the reunion. Just point me in whatever direction you feel is appropriate, and I will obey."

"You will meet with me daily," McGonagall instructs. "And you will join Mr. Potter in the revival of Defensive Charms full time."

Harry finally lowers his wand. The look of confliction is evident on his face; however he trusted the headmistress' decision. She was wise beyond her years and this wasn't her first rodeo in dealing with a wizarding war. "Professor, if I may make a suggestion?"

"Of course, Mr. Potter."

"I think it'd be wise to teach the children how to duel along with the current curriculum."

Draco turns to Harry and finally makes stern eye contact with him. "He's right. I'd like to volunteer myself to partake in such events."

Hermione clears her throat on her way toward Draco. "I'd like to volunteer as well."

"Ms. Granger?" McGonagall questions. "I've never known you as one who enjoyed dueling."

"I don't particularly," she replies coolly. "However, I think it would be beneficial for the female students to feel strongly in participating." She looks down her nose at Draco with the hint of a smile. "Besides, Mr. Malfoy would be rather easy to take on."

An amused smirk crosses Draco's lips as his eyes flash a glow of excitement. "Sounds like a plan, Granger."

Chapter Text

Today marked the first day that dueling would be implemented in Defensive Charms. Draco spent most of his day straightening his classroom and finishing up a few ungraded pieces of homework.

Most of the staff members who passed him in the halls either ignored him entirely or gave him looks of suspicion, but he turned a blind eye to them. Draco was aware that there was only so many relationships that could be salvaged considering his relationship to those in the upcoming war.

Hermione, on the other hand, was unique from the rest. She didn't choose to ignore him like most of the staff. Instead, she decided to remain impartial to the scenario and left their relationship open ended. After her Transfigurations course was done for the day she went to find him to prep for their upcoming duel.

Hermione darts through the castle on her way to the Defensive Charms classroom. Time was limited and she wanted to take advantage of their rare moment of solitude. Along the way she picked up two cups of coffee.

Hermione finds Draco in the vacant classroom at his desk. He's seated with his chin lazily rested against his fist and he appears on the verge of sleep. She uses the back of her knuckle to lightly tap the door upon her entrance. His disheveled blonde hair swishes as he shakes his head awake.

"Tired already?" she greets with a smirk.

"Granger," he mutters. "Was just thinking about you." He inwardly rolls his eyes at himself for making such a blatant vulnerable statement.

She smiles warmly while extending an arm toward him. "I brought you coffee. Looks as though you'll need it."

The smile on Draco's face is covered as he draws the cup of coffee closer to his lips. "Perhaps." He peers up at her with tired glossy eyes.

Being in his mere presence naturally softened Hermione's guard. Although her personal relationship with Draco was controversial, their professional bond was undoubtedly beneficial for the students. "We should discuss our plan for the children. Do you have any thoughts?"

The cup in his hand lowers as he lets out a sigh. "Simple, really. We demonstrate how to disarm, I let you win, and we move on to volunteers."

"Let me win?" Hermione scoffs holding back a grin. "If that's what you wish to tell yourself." She takes a seat on the edge of his desk and swings her legs from beneath the table. "Do you have any students in mind?"

"I do." He flattens his quill against the table and interlaces his hands against the surface. "A chatty blue haired boy, and an equally mouthy bloke whose father happens to be in the Purists."

Hermione frowns while taking a sip of coffee. "Teddy and Grayson? Need I remind you of the Incarcerous curse that Grayson committed on Teddy at the beginning of the year?"

"He learned his lesson," he replies confidently. "A month's worth detention with yours truly will do such."

"I can't argue there.. well-" She stops mid-sentence as the voices of Harry and Ron approach the classroom from down the hall.

Draco glances between Hermione and the floor as he aggravatedly rubs his thumb and forefinger across his forehead.

"So you just plan on popping up on her, do you?" Harry asks.

Their footsteps near closer as Ron replies, "I expect she'll be in her classroom; Hermione always stays behind on Thursdays."

Hermione's eyebrows pinch together as she freezes in place perched on top of his desk.

Ron turns the corner holding a bouquet of pink roses. He's uncharacteristically dressed in a suit and tie. A prominent scowl appears on his face as his eyes land on Draco from the doorway. "Was I interrupting something?"

Draco wrinkles his chin and slowly shakes his head no. Hermione places both hands on the desk pushing herself from it. "Ron," she states meekly. "We were just discussing the curriculum for our duel this afternoon."

Harry shamelessly cringes as he passes his best friend and enters his classroom. He throws his bookbag against his podium and begins to gather a grouping of textbooks that he intended on retrieving.

The hand gripping Ron's batch of flowers lowers as he enters the classroom at a snail's pace.

"Come to bring me flowers, Weasley?" Draco greets with a smug smile. "That's rather thoughtful of you."

"Draco," Hermione warns. She nervously wrings her hands together while approaching Ron's side. "Those are lovely."

"They're.." Ron peers at Draco in pure hatred before looking back to Hermione. "They're for you."

Draco rolls his eyes and picks up his quill before turning his attention back to the paper beneath him. He can't help but do one last double take at the bouquet of flowers now held in Hermione's arms. His eyes turn into slivers as he resentfully glares at them.

Ron forces a smile while straightening the lapels of his jacket. "I know roses are your favorite," he says to Hermione.

"Actually, they're sunflowers," Draco states matter-of-factly.

"And what do you know, Malfoy?" Ron challenges.

Draco snorts shaking his head. "A hell of a lot more than you do, apparently."

"Oh bloody hell," Harry irritably interjects. He tightens the bookbag over his shoulder and pats Ron on the back. "Not getting involved." He promptly makes his way to the exit. "I'll see you lot in the Great Hall."

"Just wanted to make it clear, Malfoy.." Ron struts to the front of the classroom and places both palms on Draco's desk. "Just because McGonagall trusts you doesn't mean that I do. You're nothing more than a snake, and that's never changed."

Draco makes stern eye contact while stroking his chin. A hint of a smirk appears as he reclines in his seat. "How unfortunate," he condescends. "I've always yearned for your acceptance, after all."

"Ronald. Draco." Hermione reprimands them with a look of disappointment. "That's enough."

"She's right." The Slytherin casually peers at his watch before filing the stack of papers against his desk. "Class starts in five minutes."

The Great Hall is fully capacitated with second-year students from each house. Students continue to trickle into the expansive room as Draco calls for their attention. He stands at one end of the dueling stage opposite to Hermione.

Although the Slytherin verbally instructs the growing crowd around them, the Gryffindor across from him keeps his full attention. Hermione can feel his eyes on her as she pushes up the sleeves to her shirt and centers herself on the platform.

Each house is ordered to stand beneath their corresponding house crest lining the walls. The Slytherin house is noticeably obedient to their Head of Household, taking instruction with ease and compliance. The rest of the houses, however, chatter to one another regarding Draco's troubling circumstances.

It required Hermione to step in; firmly instructing Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw to line up in their designated areas and keep their mouths shut.

"Today Ms. Granger and myself shall be giving a demonstration on dueling based off basic disarming. With the rise of the likelihood of dangerous spells being used in our surroundings, it is imperative that each of you understands how to defend one's self," Draco explains.

A Gryffindor in the front row eagerly raises their hand. "And why should we listen to you? Aren't you a part of the Purists?"

Jack Wood lightly shoves his housemate with a sneer on his face. "Shut it," he warns. "He's not with them."

Draco remains tight lipped and composed. It took loads of confidence to face the students; aware that they knew of the scenario surrounding his personal life. He loathed the invasive treatment of the Daily Prophet and what the newspaper reflected him as; the troubled antihero.

Another hand goes up.

"I heard he kidnapped Teddy Lupin and had him turned into a werewolf."

Teddy pushes his way through the crowd of Hufflepuffs with a sneer on his face. "Does it bloody look like I'm a werewolf?"

"How should we know?" a Ravenclaw scoffs. "It isn't a full moon." The student follows this up by mimicking a loud howl.

"That's enough," Hermione interjects. "There will be no further gossip under my instruction." The crowd falls deathly silent. Her eyes fall upon Harry, Professor McGonagall and Ron who sit at the front of the Great Hall segregated from the rest.

Ron sits with his elbows rested against his thighs and his hands folded before his mouth. He looks troubled and highly irritated, and he visibly has trouble paying attention to anyone in the room other than Draco.

"Firstly, you must stabilize your positioning." Hermione rigidly points an arm forward while holding her wand directed at Draco. "The incantation must be said loud and clear." She holds eye contact with him; rotating her body and swishing her arm at him. "Expelliarmus!"

Draco lazily mirrors her stance with a smirk on his face. He stands perfectly still, purposefully allowing the charm to target his wrist. His wand shoots in the air causing the crowd to giggle and chatter in amusement.

"Perhaps you should teach the children how to block?" Ron suddenly speaks up. The students turn to him in confusion. "Or.. I don't know; actually try to act as if this was a real duel, Malfoy."

Harry cocks an eyebrow at his friend while exchanging and implicit look with the headmistress.

Draco shrugs his shoulders. "If you wish to slander my teaching, perhaps you'd like to come up here and demonstrate yourself?"

The crowd breaks into a series of 'ooo's.

Draco instructs him to join him on the stage by waving a hand toward himself. "Come on, then."

"What on earth is my uncle doing?" Victoire whines. "This is mortifying."

"Shush Vic; this is gonna be good," Teddy replies with an eager grin. His eyes casually scan the room, falling upon a particular raven-like bird that he recognized from his grandma's house. It sits idly and stares directly at him. It's located in the corner of the high ceilings and it blends into its dark surroundings. His eye contact is broken as the students part and make room for Ron.

Ron confidently approaches the platform with his wand ready.

Hermione uncomfortably rubs the side of her arm while peering between the two men. "Alright then," she states apprehensively. "On my count.. one, two-"

"Expelliarmus!" Ron shouts preemptively.

"Protego!" Draco dodges each shot fired his way one after the other. He pivots left and right while holding a light blue halo from the tip of his wand; deflecting each charm.

One charm after another ricochets from off the force field surrounding Draco and shoots up toward the ceiling. A chandelier is hit from above them and drops a foot; becoming unhinged.

Without leaving a moment for Draco gain his footing Ron hollers, "Impedimenta!". A turquoise light projects from the tip of his wand and viciously escalates toward the Slytherin.

Draco uses yet another blocking spell to defend himself. He was beginning to lose his temper. Not only was Ron being too aggressive with his charms, but he was clearly casting the spells with a personal vengeance.

Two could play at that game.

"Depulso!" Draco sweeps his wand and alternates with his other foot forward as a bright white light shoots toward his target. Ron misses the block and is promptly shoved back a few feet by the powerful charm. He falls on his ass causing the crowd surrounding them to break into laughter.

Draco fails to withhold a smirk as he looks to Hermione who has a worried look on her face. In the mere seconds that he was looking at her, Ron had already fired back with a spell much more severe.

"DIFFINDO!"

A light green flurry of light launches from the tip of Ron's wand sending a large surge Draco's way. He's caught off guard and clipped on the shoulder, instantly falling to the ground. The severing charm instantly creates a deep abrasion from beneath his shirt.

The crowd gasps and McGonagall stands to her feet with both hands clasped over her mouth. Harry hops over the post and rushes to the stage to Ron's side. He aggressively tears the wand from his hand as Hermione jumps onto the platform; using herself as a human barrier between the two men.

"STOP IT!" she orders.

"What're you playing at?!" Draco shouts gripping his right shoulder. He winces in pain as he raises a bloodied arm that saturates his dress shirt down to his hand.

"Are you okay?" Hermione rushes to his side and drops to her knees beside him. She unbuttons his shirt and observes the gashing wound pouring blood from his shoulder. The students break into a frenzy at the sight.

"Everyone make their way back to the Defensive Charms classroom," Harry tries to instruct calmly. Ron hops off the stage with his head low and disappears in the group of children.

Hermione tends to Draco; muttering an incantation under her breath while using her wand to heal him. He grimaces at the sight and breathes heavily against the pain. It took him a moment to realize that she had been stroking his other hand with her thumb the whole time.

Draco calls it an early day and plans to make an exit to his mansion. He needed to change his bloodied shirt and gather some belongings for the rest of his stay at Hogwarts. With the school being on lockdown, it was imperative that the Head of Slytherin remained in constant attendance while working against the Purists.

As he exits his classroom he's faced with Teddy. He appears as though he had been running; his chest rapidly rising and falling. He's gripping a book close to his chest that he silently offers to his cousin.

Draco accepts the textbook while looking to the young man suspiciously. "What's this?"

"It's from Ms. Granger."

"A textbook? For what reason?"

Teddy shrugs his shoulders. "I.. I'm not sure," he replies distantly. "All I know is I was supposed to give it to you."

"Right," Draco mutters shoving the book in his briefcase. "Thank you, Theodore."

"Anytime."

After arriving via floo powder, Draco exhaustively checked each room in his mansion. He was relieved to find that it was clear of his father or any Purists.

He packed his suitcase and gathered his belongings before laying on his king-sized bed. He lay wide awake with the textbook that Teddy had given him earlier. Flipping through the pages, he had come to find that all of the pages were blank.

He grabs his wand from the side table and flicks it at one of the pages. Unbeknownst to Teddy, there was a hidden message that had intended to be kept secret:

Draco,

I deeply apologize for today. I'd like for you to visit me at my house for a moment alone. Meet me tonight at midnight. I look forward to seeing you.

Hermione

Draco tosses the book to his side, grabs his luggage and rushes toward the fire place. In his hurry he had failed to notice a black bird with cat-like ears outside his window that had been watching him the entire day.

Chapter Text

Hermione hears her fireplace erupt from her living room. She closes her suitcase and grabs her wand. With her wand rigidly pointed before her, she makes her way into the other room. She's surprised to find Draco exiting her fire place, brushing off soot and dirt from his dress shirt.

"It's you," she says faintly while lowering her wand. "Almost gave me a bloody heart attack."

"Hello, love." He retrieves the single sunflower from the pocket of his dress shirt and offers it to her.

Hermione's fingers wrap around the stem as her hand covers his. "Thank you," she giggles with a warm smile.

"I wished to apologize for my secrecy," he states while watching her closely. "We never got the chance to speak of my actions following the incident at the Manor."

"There isn't anything to speak of. I know now what your incentive was. If anything, I should be apologizing for Ronald's behavior earlier." She places a hand over his shoulder feeling it tense.

"It was only a scratch." He swiftly grabs her hand and holds its close to his chest. Raising it closer to his mouth, he delicately pushes his lips against the back of her hand.

Hermione turns her face away feeling her cheeks burn. Draco continues to stroke the back of her palm with his thumb. Letting go of her hand, he goes to grip either side of her hips and pulls her in closer. He looks down at her with mysterious narrowed eyes.

"This is probably one of our last few moments of solitude together," he states lowly while placing an index finger and thumb on her chin. He delicately lifts her head and forces eye contact. "That night at the Manor, I meant what I said, Hermione. And I intend to tell you that; over and over, for as long as you wish."

Hermione grins while using her fingers to push a few wispy bangs across his forehead. Her body naturally leans against his; feeling herself melt against his touch. She snuggly wraps her arms around his torso while walking her fingers along his waist line. Her head tilts to the side while snuggling her face into the crevice of his neck.

While listening to his rampant heartbeat she deeply inhales the intoxicating cologne from his shirt. His chest visibly rises and falls with each shallow breath. She places an agile hand against his chest while her lips trace the side of his neck. He breathes out heavily while kissing her forehead.

Her fingers wrap around the back of his neck as her other hand directs his face toward hers. Standing on the tips of her toes, she forcefully presses her lips against his. He has to take a step back and regain their balance against the strength of her kiss.

She walks him backward and pushes him flat against the wall. He hungrily moves his mouth to the indent of her neck and places soft kisses along her shoulder. Her fingers responsively dig into his back.

He hastily scoops her up in his arms and takes her to the bed. While taking a seat, she uses her legs to straddle him; pinning him against the bed. Her hands cup his jawline as she resumes their kiss. His hands slips beneath her blouse as his fingers trace the length of her back.

A loud bang from the other room stops them in place.

"What was that?!" Hermione hisses. She readjusts her shirt in place while getting off of him. Draco is quick to grab his wand.

Another loud rumble causes the walls to rattle. It sounded like the front door had been blown open. A frigid breeze makes a quick appearance throughout her small cottage.

Draco presses a finger to his lips while leading her from out of the bedroom. His hand firmly grips hers as they reach the corner to the hall. Hermione harshly inhales while cupping both hands over her mouth.

"I thought I'd find you here, son." Lucius stands before them with his wand drawn directly at Draco. "I see that the boy with blue hair successfully delivered my message."

"Father," Draco's voice quivers. He had been caught red handed; his hair messily disheveled and his shirt sloppily wrinkled.

"And look who we have here?" Lucius' hateful eyes scan Hermione from her head to her toes. "Just as I suspected; my son's in love with a mudblood."

Draco glances to Hermione who has her head held high. She tightly grips her wand while glimpsing between he and his father.

"That may be," he replies confidently. "But this doesn't concern her, father."

"That's where you would be correct." Lucius rigidly raises his wand with it held right in between Draco's eyes. "This matter solely relies on myself and the pathetic excuse of a son that stands before me."

Within the blink of an eye, a flash of bright yellow inundates their surroundings. Hermione had cast a severing spell which Lucius promptly blocks.

Lucius coolly flattens his hair in place with a sinister smirk. "You stupid girl," he growls.

Draco finds that he had no choice other than to attack. With one swift movement he lashes his wand hand toward his father, expelling a dark purple bolt of energy. His father is shoved back a few feet as Draco grabs Hermione by the waist and leads her to the kitchen.

Lucius enters the room and sends a stream of fire from the tip of his wand that trails closely behind them.

"Get down!" Draco forces Hermione's shoulders with his hands so that she's closer to the ground. They duck behind the kitchen counter as a vicious charm targets a glass bowl behind them. Shards of glass are sent flying throughout the kitchen, nicking Hermione's cheek. She peeks her head from behind the surface before throwing another counter attack Lucius' way.

Hermione screams out as she's hit in the chest with a powerful spell that aggressively shoves her against one of the cupboards. Her right arm makes a large snapping sound at the shoulder as she comes in contact with the surface. She holds her arm snugly against her body, her other hand gripping her head, as her back slides down the surface.

As her injured arm falls limp, her wand slips from her finger tips and rolls across the tile floor. After wiping a hand behind her head, she spreads her bloodied finger tips before her eyes. A gash from the back of her head leaves a blotch of red on the cabinet.

In a flash, Draco emerges from behind the counter and begins to partake in a vicious battle with his father. Hermione yanks her wand from the floor while crawling on hands and knees to the other side of the kitchen. She cradles her injured arm close to her chest as the other struggles to hold up her body.

Lucius is hot on her trail as he eagerly sprints after her. She takes cover behind a trash can while placing a hand on her heaving chest. Lucius was within inches of her.

Draco pivots to the side of the room; exposing himself and standing rigid in plain sight. "Stop!" he shouts halting his father in his tracks. "You're here for me; aren't you? Not her." Lucius takes the bait and redirects his aim toward his son. "Go!" he yells to Hermione.

Hermione takes the limited time to scurry into the bedroom behind a dresser. She groans in between gasped breaths while clutching her shaking body. Blood trickles down the back of her neck and soaks into her blouse. Raising a hand before her face, she finds that her vision had gone blurry.

She listens on as one spell after the other is shot back and forth between son and father. Weakly peeking her head from behind the furniture, she watches on as their charms collide mid-air.

The power struggle is adamant on Draco's face as he emits a stream of red electricity from his wand. He has trouble maintaining focus as he gapes at Hermione; injured on the floor. His counter charm meets in the middle and resists against the stream of blue light from the tip of Lucius' wand who appears to be having much less of a struggle.

Draco takes a few steps back while casting the powerful spell that combats his fathers. He was slowly losing the battle; the blue light creeping closer to his wand hand.

Lucius lowers his wand and quickly ducks the cascade of red electricity that was emitted from Draco's wand. He points one arm forward while arching his wand over his head. He swishes his wand hand in front of himself while using his other arm for balance. Lucius' chest puffs out as he shouts, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Hermione grips her wand in her left hand and cries out as she listlessly directs it at a bookshelf. "ACCIO!"

The bookshelf comes hurtling toward her and serves as a barrier between the killing curse and Draco. The bookshelf explodes into pieces as Draco loses his balance and falls to the ground. The explosion causes Lucius on the other side to lose his footing as he's thrown backwards.

Draco promptly rolls from his back onto his stomach and scrambles to his feet. He takes the opportunity to swiftly attack Lucius with a charm that required little effort. "Expelliarmus!" The elementary spell promptly disarms Lucius; his wand soaring up into the air behind him.

With the look of resentful defeat, Lucius waves his cape from around his body. He shrinks and morphs into a tiny raven-like bird that flaps into the other room. Retrieving his wand in its beak, the bird erratically flutters out of one of the broken windows.

Draco tries to catch his breath as he scurries to Hermione's side. She lays on her back with her hands held tightly gripped against her stomach. He hovers over her while delicately wrapping his hand around the back of her neck.

"Have you gone mad?" he fiercely lectures with a tightly clenched jaw. "Going to toe to toe with my father?!"

Her eyes weakly close in response. "People commit mad actions.. when they're in love."

Draco's eyes widen as he notices the trail of bright red blood trickling down the side of her neck. His eyes focus on the subsequent patch of blood that had transmitted onto his fingers. "Hermione?"

While coughing and struggling to take a proper inhale, Hermione's eyes roll back and forth beneath closed eyelids.

"We have to get you to Hogwarts." Slipping an arm beneath her knees and upper back, Draco lifts her body while keeping fragile maintenance of her head and neck. Her uninjured arm wraps around his shoulders as she rests her cheek against his chest.

Draco bustles out of her small cottage and into the moonlight. "Stay with me," he pleads. He holds her body close to his chest while taking large fast strides. A snow flurry surrounds them as they turn the corner to her street. He peers up to the large ominous castle that was about a mile and a half away. His feet slide across a patch of sleet as he trips over himself. "Stay with me," he repeats.

Hermione mutters something under her breath that he can't make out. He maintains pristine focus of their destination while keeping a firm hold on her lethargic body. He comes to the gloomy realization that they were simply too far from Hogwarts to safely transport her.

While crouching beneath a tree, Draco rests her body against the trunk and tears the jacket from off his shoulders. He launches a few flairs from the tip of his wand into the night sky. After throwing the jacket around her shoulders he rubs the sides of her arms and keeps her close to the warmth of his body. "Stay with me," he repeats once more. "Everything will be okay."

Chapter Text

Later That Night

"Do you think we should wake them up?"

"Like hell," Victoire whispers. "Look at them; bloody adorable."

Teddy shrugs his shoulders in agreement. He looks over to the tiny hospital bed, meant for one, currently occupied by two bodies. Hermione lays peacefully asleep on her back with her repaired arm in a sling. Draco lays on his side with his arm snuggly draped across her waist. His face is rested on the incline of her neck and his lower lip hangs open as he lightly snores.

"Mr. Lupin." Madam Pomfrey scurries toward them with her arms full of different potions and equipment. "Ms. Weasley. How did you get in here? It's after hours."

"We heard Ms. Granger was injured," Teddy informs. "Harry told me."

"It was one frightful evening for Ms. Granger and Mr. Malfoy, and they should be left to rest."

"Wait." Teddy wrings his hands together while thinking quickly on his feet. "I'm family.. Draco's family that is. It should be my right to visit."

"And visit you may," Madam Pomfrey responds irritably. "When he's awake in the morning."

Hermione stirs in her sleep as her eyes slowly flutter open. "Teddy. Victoire." Her voice is scratchy and hoarse. She sits up in her seat which nudges Draco awake. He sharply inhales while his body naturally leans back. He has to catch himself from falling off the miniscule hospital bed.

"Draco! Is it true your father was at Ms. Grangers?" Teddy eagerly interrogates.

"Perhaps," he mutters with a yawn. He wipes his face with his hands before placing a shoe on the floor and bringing himself to his feet.

"We've been practicing dueling," the boy with blue hair impatiently informs. "We're starting our own new club and everything."

Teddy looks over his shoulder to find Professor McGonagall standing in the doorway. Her mouth is puckered and she holds both hands interlaced in front of her. "I see you both have awakened." She moves toward Teddy and places a hand on his shoulder. "And it appears as though you have company."

"Headmistress!" Victoire speaks in an innocent high-pitched voice. "I told Teddy that we shouldn't visit after hours."

"That's rubbish," Teddy scoffs. "It was your idea."

McGonagall calmly raises a hand silencing them. "No matter," she sighs. "We have much greater issues at hand, I fear. Feeling better Ms. Granger?"

Hermione gingerly nods her head. She glimpses to her arm in the sling with a sigh. "Rather unfortunate break, but it was properly healed by Madam Pomfrey. Her only wish is that I keep it rested for now."

Draco smiles at her in visible admiration. He uses his fingers to tenderly tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.

Victoire cups her hands beneath her chin. "The two of you are so bloody cute."

A prominent scowl appears on the blonde's face. "I shall never be referred to, by anyone, as cute."

Hermione snorts while rolling her eyes. "So what's the plan, professor?" she diverts.

"The school is officially on lockdown," McGonagall informs. "The students have been instructed to remain in their common rooms at all times, except for transfer in between classes by the House prefects."

"How are we supposed to practice dueling?" Teddy groans. "There's only so much time we get in class.."

"I will allow extracurricular activities under the advisement of Mr. Malfoy or Mr. Potter." She turns to Draco. "That is, if they are willing to put forth such effort."

"Of course, headmistress."

Draco's eyes linger on the professor for longer than intended. He absent mindedly strokes his chin while thinking back to the unbreakable vow he committed a couple weeks prior. It was a secret that was only known between himself and his father.

And he intended to keep it that way.. for now.

The Next Day

Harry sets his briefcase across his podium. He opens it while stacking a heap of papers against the surface. "Ready for today's lesson, mate?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Draco sighs. He walks past the windows of the classroom, raising the heavy curtains by wand. The sunlight floods the area and illuminates the dome shaped ceiling.

"And how's Hermione?" Harry asks while flattening his jacket with both hands.

"Brilliant." Draco lightly smiles. "She's a firecracker, that one."

Harry repositions himself behind the podium as students eagerly flood the classroom and disperse to their desks.

A flurry of chatter ignites at the sight of the return of their blonde professor. Many questions are asked regarding Lucius and the appearance of the Purists. He does his best to avoid their interrogation and keep focus on the subject at hand.

Harry takes the lead and centers himself at the front of the classroom. "Today we are focusing on a very powerful charm," he begins silencing the room. "It will be both an offensive and defensive spell that can be used in the face of battle. And it all starts within yourselves. You are not merely young witches and wizards, but gifted individuals who happen to possess the unique ability of magic. Today's demonstration will prove such. Mr. Wood, if I could borrow you?"

Jack shoots up out of his seat faster than the speed of light. He eagerly nears Harry side while lightly bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Which unique ability do you believe you possess, Jack?"

"Being an excellent Keeper on the Gryffindor quidditch team, of course." Grayson chuckles to himself causing Jack to turn to him. "Think something's funny?"

Grayson rolls his eyes. "Your ego," he scoffs.

The children ensue in laughter causing Harry to have to get their attention on track once more. "Quidditch; brilliant. Now, if you had to envision yourself as an animal, what do you see yourself as? A hawk or an eagle, perhaps?"

"An eagle, sir."

"Brilliant." Harry squares his shoulders with his hands. "Now, keep pristine focus of that image of an eagle.. or, as Mr. Malfoy and myself are teaching today; something that we refer to as your Patronus."

Jack squeezes his eyes shut while licking his lips and nodding his head. "I'm doing it now, sir."

Harry guides Jack by his shoulders to the corner of the room. A display of life-sized dummy's stand next to each other in a row. "Now take out your wand, flick with your wrist like this, and repeat the incantation "Engorgio Patronum."

Jack's eyes flutter open. He puffs out his chest while taking in a deep breath. He raises his wand and points it rigidly at the dummy. Moving his wrist in a circular motion, he powerfully yells, "ENGORGIO PATRONUM!"

A blue wisp of smoke escapes the tip of his wand and twirls in the air. It slowly transforms into the appearance of an eagle that's twice the size of a normal one. It lets out a squawk while soaring around the classroom, flying over the heads of each student who watches on in awe.

"That's it!" Harry encourages.

Jack keeps focus on the Patronus, guiding it's movement by the direction of his wand hand.

"Now cast it toward the dummy!"

He follows instructions and eagerly swishes his arm directly toward the human-like doll. The eagle folds back its wings while darting at the dummy. It's beak pierces through the doll, sending it crashing to the floor.

The classroom erupts in applause. Jack proudly crosses his arms before doing a quick bow.

"Brilliant!" Harry shouts with a grin. "Ten points to Gryffindor."

Draco slowly walks next to Harry while clapping his hands together. "You may have a seat, Mr. Wood."

Jack makes his way through the sea of students, high-fiving a row of Gryffindors as he passes.

Draco points to the floor next to him. "Mr. Goyle, if you would."

Grayson's eyes slowly dart from side to side while sinking lower in his seat.

"Since you wished to speak up during Mr. Wood's presentation, perhaps you would like to demonstrate yourself?"

"Fine," Grayson grumbles. He wipes a finger under his nose before placing his palms against the desk and pushing himself up from it.

"And which unique ability do you believe you possess?"

"Being an excellent Slytherin, of course," he mocks Jack.

Draco sharply inhales. "Very well.. position yourself in front of the dummy."

Goyle shrugs his shoulders and walks over to Jack, standing right before him. The Slytherins in the classroom snicker among themselves.

Draco dramatically rolls his eyes while taking long strides toward the snarky young man. He yanks on the back of his robes and directs him toward the doll standing in the corner. "Carrying on.. which animal do you envision your Patronus to be?"

"Well, snakes are our House mascot. I want it to be a serpent."

Draco does a quick nod. "Now close your eyes."

Grayson obeys orders and clenches his eyes shut. He raises his arm and violently swishes it toward the dummy. "Engorgio Patronum!" He flicks his wrist over and over, but nothing happens. "ENGORGIO.. PATRONUM!" He messily flails his wand around with gritted teeth.

The class begins to break out in mutters and giggles.

Draco's eyes narrow. "Are you envisioning the serpent, Grayson?"

"What do you bloody think?" he groans. "ENGORGIO PATRONUM!"

The rampant snickering only heightens in the classroom. The doll stands perfectly still in the corner and the tip of Grayson's wand refuses to dispel a thing. Harry tries to contain the classroom for the third time today, but they defiantly chatter among themselves. Some students bang their hands against the desk while throwing their heads back in laughter.

Draco glances to Grayson who's head hangs miserably low. The defeated expression on his student's face makes him feel admittedly remorseful. "SILENCE!" he defensively roars. "It is perfectly normal for one to struggle the first time when casting a charm. If I hear one more hint of a giggle or chatter, the whole lot of you will be serving detention indefinitely." The class quiets all at once.

Grayson's face is tomato red. His wand comes clanging to the floor as he defeatedly chucks it to the ground. "Can't do anything right," he mutters with a shaky voice. Draco goes to place a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but Grayson had already bolted toward the door. Without permission of leaving, he throws the door open and slams it shut behind him rattling the walls.

Chapter Text

It was reaching the end of November and the upcoming battle was nearing more with each day. The students were instructed to remain located either in their common rooms or the Main Hall in between classes.

Teddy, Victoire, Jack and Grayson sit together at the one of the tables in the Main Hall after eating their evening feast. Each of them were exhausted from training in Defensive Charms as they had been for the last few weeks. They had the class every four out of five days, and they practiced dueling along with new magical measures for hours at a time.

Defensive Charms was the focus for all students and Harry and Draco had been putting in overtime to fulfill the student's needs in preparations for battle.

Jack sits with his back against the table and his broom stick in between his legs. Tossing it from hand to hand, he stares at the floor in contemplation. "I can't believe the amount of homework Malfoy is having us do. It's intervening with my quidditch practice."

Teddy leans his forehead against his palms. He interweaves his fingers through his hair which is a similar shade of grey as the stormy ceiling above them. "We've seen the bloke so much lately; I nearly have his face etched in my nightmares," he groans.

"It's not just the homework," Grayson complains. "This lockdown is really getting on my nerves. I'm stuck here with you oafs constantly."

"No one's stopping you," Jack offers. He takes a big bite out of a cupcake before adding, "Why don't you go bugger off with your mates from Slytherin?"

Grayson shrugs his shoulders. "I haven't got any," he replies flatly.

"Oh would the lot of you hush up already?" Victoire groans. "No one's forcing us to stick together.."

"Eh, she's right." Jack puts Grayson in an uncomfortable head lock. Goyle tries to shimmy his way from out of his grasp which only causes Wood's grip to tighten. "We balance each other out well."

"Get off of me," Grayson threatens, breaking free and flattening the disheveled hair on top of his head.

An echoing thud suddenly hits the side of the castle. Repeated blasts launch from what sounded like miles away.

Everyone in the Main Hall remains perfectly still as the music and chatter falls silent. Another crashing sound causes a visible wave of panic between the students and staff.

The stone walls shake and dust rattles from off the ceilings causing little dirt piles on the floor.

Teddy places both hands flat across the table while leaning towards them. "Follow me!" he whispers. Single filing out of the room, the four of them scatter around the corner toward a broad window.

They see a volley of charms being catapulted from the direction of the Forbidden Forest. It was clear that the terrorist army had set up camp in the same destination that Voldemort stood just 10 years prior. They continuously set off a stream of threatening charms, like a machine gun, toward the castle.

Teddy holds Victoire tightly in his grasp as they peer out the open window. The arctic breeze blasts their faces as they stare at one of the northern towers engulfed in flames.

"I don't get it!" Victoire cries. "Mr. Malfoy said the Purists would be striking on the first of December!"

"War holds no time constraints," Teddy replies in a stable voice. He rubs the sides of her arms as she shivers against him like a leaf.

Jack does a double take before directing an arm outside the cobblestone window. "Look over there!"

The four of them cram themselves in the body length sized window eager to get a look at Draco; flying on a broomstick at top speed toward the Forbidden Forrest.

Teddy turns to them with the look of blatant severity. "He needs our help."

"Are you mad?" Grayson scoffs. "Not trying to get myself killed."

Victoire confidently takes Teddy's side. "What do you think Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter have been teaching us Defensive Charms all year for, Grayson? They've been training us for a reason."

Jack cradles his broom in one arm while looking out the window apprehensively. He gives a self-assuring head nod, as though he were trying to convince himself. "The blue lad is right. Malfoy needs us."

Grayson looks between them; his mouth opening a few times without saying a thing. His face scrunches up in frustration as his arms tightly wrap around himself. He slowly rolls his eyes while letting out a huff. "Oh, alright.."

They make it toward the west side of the castle, closely following Draco's tail.

Cracks of lightning brighten up the night sky as they emerge from the castle. Harsh rain pelts their skin while sprinting against the wind.

Draco flew further and further away, becoming a mere speck in the soggy sky. He was noticeably alone and seemed to know exactly where his destination was.

Screeching their heels against the thick mud, they find themselves at the entrance to a bridge. The flimsy bridge connecting the castle to the Forbidden Forrest was rebuilt following the Battle of Hogwarts.

Jack steps onto the bridge and leads the way as the others follow closely behind. The rickety bridge sways dangerously in the wind, being hurtled to and fro in hurricane level gusts.

Jack throws himself before the other three extending his arms. "There!" he shouts directing a pointed finger toward the other side to the bridge. "Someone's standing there!"

Teddy bears his wand and points it toward the sky. "Lumos Maxima." He directs the lit wand it in front of them, illuminating their direct surroundings. The charm isn't big enough to extend across the lengthy bridge, but there's enough lighting from the sporadic lightning to make out the fact that there was a shadowy figure lingering from the other side.

"It's only one of them," Teddy ensures in a shaky voice. "We can take them; there's four of us."

Grayson holds onto both sides of the bridge for dear life. "Yeah, four bloody kids!"

They stop in place with their wand hands trembling. As the figure grows nearer, they can tell that the person is approaching them at a sprinting pace.

Jack backs them up a few steps with his arms.

"They're getting closer!" Grayson hollers. "Run!"

Eagerly cramming past one another, they backtrack toward solid ground. Teddy clasps Victoire's hand as they sprint to the other side.

Once they return to safe ground they make their way toward a broken piece of cobblestone lodged in the mud that's just tall enough to cover their bodies.

Grayson immediately trips behind them and loses his footing. The other three scatter behind the barrier as he tumbles through the sludge.

Victoire peers from behind the blockade and extends her right hand with her fingers held spread. She gradually raises her hand while shouting, "Get down, Grayson!"

Grayson cowers to the floor in the fetal position as Teddy and Jack tensely watch on from behind the hunk of cobblestone.

The tips of Victoire's fingers set fire, growing weak against the pellets of rain. She uses pristine focus as her hand powerfully surges another burst of flames. "It's working!" she shouts in elation.

Using her other hand, she rotates her palms together creating a fireball the size of a basketball. She cocks her arm backward and launches her hand forward. The surge of fire bombards their side to the bridge. The ropes catch fire and weaken the grip of the chains to the ground.

The person running toward them is flung to one side as the overpass weakly tilts to one side. The bridge gradually begins to collapse prompting the students to break into cheer.

"Great job, Vic!" Teddy hollers as he and Jack emerge from behind the cobblestone. "That'll slow 'em down!"

The figure stops in place and whips out their wand. "Aguamenti!" With one swift movement, the Purist instantly extinguishes the fire and puts a halt to the destruction of the bridge.

"Shit!" Victoire screams. "I hadn't thought that far!"

The three of them watch on as the Purist calmly approaches Grayson with his wand drawn. He had made it halfway across the bridge and no longer appeared to be in any sort of hurry. With another flash of lightning, the Purists' true appearance is revealed. "Good evening, son."

Grayson weakly brings himself to his feet before tumbling and collapsing to the ground once more.

Teddy grips Victoire closer to his body. "That's.. that's his father!"

Thunder rattles their chests as another crack of lightning erupts above them.

Grayson's wobbly knees bring him to his feet once more as he slowly trudges toward Gregory Goyle on the bridge. With a wave of confidence, he keeps a rigid arm fearlessly directed toward his father. His feet slowly follow one after the other as he continues his journey across the fragile bridge.

"What's he doing?" Jack shakes his head in disbelief while peeking his head from behind the barricade. "Trying to get himself killed?!"

"We can't sit by and do nothing," Teddy says through pressed teeth.

They helplessly watch on as the Purist stands before his son with his wand held behind his back. "What're you going to do Grayson, kill me?" Goyle snickers. "You couldn't cast a proper charm if your life depended on it.. how unfortunate."

Grayson glances back to his friends while licking his lips. They frantically shake their heads at him while motioning him to come back to their side. His wand remains pointed at his father; his arm rotating in sloppy uneven circles.

"Come, now." Goyle tempts his son with a come-hither motion of his fingers. "I'll allow you your best shot."

Grayson wiggles his wand arm while weakly shouting, "Stupefy!" The tip of his wand sputters one weak shot after the other. His father proceeds to block each charm without his wand or an ounce of effort.

"I have to help him," Teddy insists, confidently striding from behind the barricade.

Victoire keeps a tight grip on his shirt from behind. "How?!" she pleads.

"Trust me." He grips both of her hands and places a quick kiss on her cheek. "I'm a Metamorphmagus."

Victoire loses grip as Teddy slips beneath her fingers and transforms into an eagle right before their eyes. With another crack of lightning he dives off the cliff and soars to the other side of the bridge.

"The Patronus, Grayson!" Jack shouts at the top of his lungs. "Use your Patronus!"

Victoire stands by with both hands clasped over her mouth. She watches on as Teddy circles over the Purist. The eagle flutters to the other side to the bridge and lands safely before turning back into Teddy. The boy with royal blue hair closes one eye shut while aiming at Goyle. "EXPELLIARMUS!"

The wand held behind the Purists' back simultaneously shoots into the sky before falling off the bridge onto the razor-sharp rocks beneath them.

Teddy cups both hands over his mouth while shouting, "NOW, GRAYSON!"

Grayson takes another few steps toward his father while feverishly nodding his head. He arches his wand hand high over his head before swishing toward the Purist before him. "ENGORGIO PATRONUM!"

A blinding light emits from the tip of his wand and brightens the night sky. The silvery smoke that had projected from his wand slithers into the formation of a boar. The boar charges against Goyle and knocks him off his feet.

The powerful Patronus causes the bridge to shake and shimmy. It charges past Goyle and rocks the barricade like a powerful earthquake.

A vigorous cracking sound litters the air as the bridge shifts unforgivingly to its side. The area that Victoire had hit with her fire was slowly disintegrating.

Teddy instantly transforms back into an eagle and viciously flaps his wings in the air.

On the other side to the bridge, Jack grips his broomstick and darts off from behind the cobblestone. Kicking off from the ground, he freefalls off the cliff before positioning himself safely against his broom. He soars through the sky beneath the overpass while keeping a close eye on the Slytherins from above.

Grayson's head fiercely turns on a swivel as he grips the sides to the overpass. He peers over the side to the bridge and a look of alleviation washes over his face as he locates Jack; drifting in the damp air beneath him. With another final snapping noise, the ropes fly into the air before lifelessly flopping to the ground miles beneath them. Grayson shrieks as he free falls from the sky.

The Purist across from him holds onto the railing as the bridge collapses. He loses grip and falls out of sight into the darkness beneath them.

Jack circles beneath Grayson and leans on the front of his broomstick while escalating velocity. He reaches top speed and intertwines arms with the Slytherin mid-air. With one swift movement Grayson wraps his body around Jack and holds onto him from behind on the broom.

Victoire cheers, hopping on her feet, as Jack directs them upward. Teddy reaches her side and transfigures back into human form. They run to the side of the cliff as Jack and Grayson safely return their feet to solid ground.

"My dad," Grayson whispers. Their audible cheering comes to an immediate close. "He's gone."

Teddy throws an arm around his shoulders and lightly shakes him. "I'm really sorry, Grayson."

Victoire comes in for a hug and holds Grayson in an embrace. Jack tosses his broom to the side and throws his arms around all three of them. They all take a deep breath as the Gryffindor holds them in a big bear hug; all four of them drenched in rain.

"Let's get back to the castle," Jack suggests. "I think Malfoy can handle himself."

Teddy looks over his shoulder to the Forbidden Forrest where flashes of continuous charms can be seen. "I hope so."

Chapter Text

Draco approaches the Forbidden Forrest at top speed on his broom. His legs dangle in the wind as he leans to one side. His eyes scout out the scene beneath him; searching for a sign of his father. Hundreds of black birds with catlike ears pass him in the air on their way to the castle.

Once he finds himself in the center of the Forbidden Forrest he presses on the front of the broomstick to descend. He circles above Lucius who's accompanied by approximately ten other Purists standing in human form. Flocks of black ravenlike birds litter the branches of trees surrounding them.

Draco's heels slide against the dirt as he grounds himself. Clutching the broom in one hand, he pushes the damp hair from his eyes with the other.

The clouds continues to dump copious amounts of rain upon them. A bolt of lightning illuminates their surroundings and highlights the enemies swarming him.

Lucius stands centered among his comrades with his shoulders held back. Those encircling him hold their wands directed at his son who stares back at them fearlessly.

"Go," Lucius instructs them. "Leave the boy to me."

One by one the Purists transfigure into mutated birds and flap toward the castle.

"Where is that Mudblood girlfriend of yours?" Lucius taunts. "No longer here to protect you?"

"Her presence is unnecessary," Draco replies with confidence. "Though I will admit her astute ability to disarm came of great use."

Lucius raises his eyebrows with an amused smirk. A glimmer of dark excitement crosses his eyes; his lips curling at the corners as he takes a step closer.

"Besides, this is between father and son."

"You've always been a despicable excuse for a son," Lucius jeers. "An embarrassment to the Malfoy name."

"And you've been a stand-up father?" The blonde gives a short laugh. "You raised me to be a self-serving bigot. You stood by as I was tortured; faced with the task to kill my own headmaster at the age of sixteen." He raises his wand hand, calmly directing it at his father. "However, I didn't come here to discuss pleasantries," he adds. "I came here to finish this; once and for all."

"You don't have it in you to kill," Lucius presses. "It was always your weakness." He folds his arms behind himself while tilting his head to the side in contemplation. "Receiving those orders at such a young age was a great honor; a direct order by the Dark Lord. And yet, you failed him."

"I didn't fail Voldemort, father; you did."

The statement causes visible tension in Lucius' face. His upper lip curls as he tilts his head back in displeasure. "You've caught me in a good mood. I'll give you this chance to flee; take your dirty blooded girlfriend and leave this town for good," he instructs through pressed teeth. "This is a sign of mercy for your mother. Now leave before I change my mind."

Draco grits his teeth while effortlessly directing his wand at Lucius. "This is for mother as well." With the quick twirl of his wrist, a flash of white light crackles from the tip of wand.

The charm crashes over Lucius like a hurtling wave; projecting his body feet away from Draco. His father is thrown onto his back and into a pile of sludge. Lacerations cover the Purist from head to toe as blood spills from his face and limbs. He kneels over in pain while gripping his cane close to his chest.

Lucius lets out a sudden sinister chuckle which chills Draco to the bone.

The blonde takes a few steps back with his wand held securely before his face. Lucius rolls onto his back, howling in laughter, as blood continues to spurt from every crevice. With one swift sudden movement he hurdles himself to his knees while delivering a curveball of a charm. "Crucio."

Draco is blown quite a few feet back as he's now shoved into the mud. He thrashes back and forth in the muck as his body aches from head to toe. The torturing charm stings every muscle in his body and ignites what feels like a wildfire on every inch of his skin.

Lucius continues to cackle, blood staining his mouth and teeth, as he retrieves a vile of potion from his cloak. He watches on in amusement as his son continues to helplessly flail in the sludge. He keeps the target of his wand focused while heightening the torturing curse with all of his might.

Draco screams out in pain as Lucius casually uncorks the potion with one hand. He presses it to his lips and tilts his head back while digesting the contents. The potion instantly heals all lacerations across his face and body. He licks his lips dry and tends back to his wand hand; held rigid at his son.

"Pity," Lucius whispers. "This is how my son dies.."

Draco rolls on his back and desperately tries to reach for his wand that was sinking in the mud. His fingertips dig into the dirt while clenching around his wand. His body convulses as he sucks in copious amounts of strangled air.

Using every ounce of energy he has left, he chokes out, "Wait." He places both palms against the mud, his wand held firm beneath his right hand, as he struggles to lift his upper body.

Lucius lowers his wand for a brief moment. The torturing charm alleviates with each passing second.

As Draco continues to regain his strength he keeps his head held low. Time was limited and he was running out of options.

Lucius arches his wand over his head and directs his other arm straight at Draco. With one fluid movement he takes a step forward and swishes his wand hand from around his head. "AVADA-"

The sudden screeching of a bird circles overhead and halts them in their place. Lucius stares up to the winged creature that levitates midair above the Purist.

Draco has his breath hitched in his throat as he shakes his head. He was now up against two Purists and he knew deep down that he was a lost cause.

To his surprise, Lucius begins shooting one charm after the other at the feathered creature. As a crack of lightning illuminates their surroundings, Draco can make out the fact that the appearance of the bird didn't match that of a mutated raven.

It was an eagle; with a massive wingspan and a large hooked beak. It smartly dodges each charm shot its way and moves through the air in some sort of controlled dance.

Draco takes the chance to dig his fingers fist deep in the mud and retrieve his wand. Without putting much thought into it he lashes his wand hand toward his father and shouts, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

A green lightning bolt explodes from the tip of his wand and zig zags its way to his target. Upon impact, Lucius falls lifeless to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Draco stumbles backward against the trunk of a tree while catching his breath. He gapes at the wand in hand and back again; in disbelief that he had finally cast the killing curse that he had been destined to conduct since he was sixteen.

The bird overhead lets out another ear-piercing squawk while hovering toward the ground. The second its talons touch the ground they transform into human feet. Teddy staggers across the mud; drenched in rain and covered in wet dirt.

"Draco!" he calls out.

A confused grin crosses the Slytherin's face as he takes a step closer. "Theodore?"

"I knew you needed my help," he proudly replies. "Did I do well?"

"Well; Teddy?" Draco places both hands on his shoulders. "You saved my life."

Upon their return Teddy and Draco sprint toward the Main Hall; saturated, dirtied and disheveled. The sounds of colossal blasts echoes throughout the halls as they pass each corridor.

They run almost face first into Harry and Hermione who stare at them as though they had seen a ghost.

"Draco," Hermione cries. She runs into his arms and tucks her head beneath his chin. He closes his eyes while slowly rubbing her back.

Taking a quick step back, she firmly smacks him across his face.

Draco winces as a scowl forms on his face. "What the bloody hell what that for?!"

"If you ever.." She points a stern finger held inches from his nose. "Disappear on me like that again, I'll kill you!"

Harry takes a slow step toward his godson with a very stern expression. His eyes are narrowed and his arms are tightly folded across his chest. "Just where have you been?" he scolds the blue haired boy.

"Teddy!" Victoire appears from behind, bolting past Harry and into Teddy's arms. "If you ever disappear on me like that again, I'll kill you!"

Draco forcefully blows air from his nose while withholding a laugh. He and Teddy share an exchange of similar guilty looks.

"How could you be so thick?" Victoire scolds. "Going off without us?"

"He saved my life," Draco informs. "I'd be dead if it weren't for him."

This statement appears to alleviate and frustrate Harry at the same time. "You can't be so reckless as to go up against the Purists alone, Teddy. It was a great risk."

"I remember a man I went to school with not so long ago." Draco tilts his head while looking to Harry. "He wouldn't have listened to that same principle."

Harry gives a dramatic sigh while rolling his eyes.

"There you are, Mr. Malfoy." McGonagall hurries up to them with a fearful yet contained expression. "They've broken the shield."

The smile on Draco's face fades as he looks the headmistress up and down. He opens up the lapel to his drenched suit jacket and pulls out a snake-headed walking stick; flattening out the wand in the palm of his hand. "He's dead," he speaks lowly. "The Purists will crumble without their leader."

"Your father is dead?" Hermione repeats. "How did you..?" The expression on her face tells that she already knew the answer.

An explosion erupts from behind them and McGonagall promptly swishes her wand over her head. She shoots at a stone pillar adjacent to them.

The pillar comes crashing to the ground within a matter of seconds. It had landed atop one of the ravenlike birds that had been fluttering toward them. It promptly transfigures back into a man in his early thirties who's trapped beneath a pile of rubble.

The six of them have their wands drawn at the Purist injured on the floor.

"Please," he coughs out. "I have a family."

Draco emerges from the rest, slowly taking one step after the other. He directs his wand in between the Purists eyes. "Crucio."

In a similar fashion to the status of Draco just thirty minutes prior, the man wiggles back and forth in immense pain.

"Draco!" Hermione wails. "Stop it!"

Draco's jaw clenches as he keeps pristine focus on his target; the Purist twitching beneath the pile of rubble while screaming out in agony.

"Oh, I'll stop it," he replies coolly. "Once he's agreed to obey my orders."

"I'll-I'll d-do anything!" he chokes out.

"You will turn back into that bloody bird suit of yours, and alert the others. Lucius Malfoy is dead. And unless the lot of you wish to end up like him, I'd suggest you leave," Draco advises. "Understand?"

Another explosion rattles the walls as the Purist digs his fingernails into the ground. His silence causes Draco to intensify the torturing charm.

"Under.. stand?" he slowly repeats.

The man fervently nods his head, his entire body convulsing. "I'll-I'll do it."

"You're letting him go?" Teddy interjects, leaving Victoire's side. "How do you know he won't kill us the second he gets a chance?"

"They boy has a point," Draco contemplates, the grip of his wand tightening. "Expelliarmus."

The wand is ripped from the Purists hand and flies into Draco's. He breaks the charm being expelled from his own wand but still holds it fixed on the man's bloodied face.

The Purist crawls on hands and knees from beneath the rubble with his chest heaving. With wobbly knees he brings himself to his feet and dusts his pants off. He twirls his robes from around his shoulders and morphs into the black bird. The bird, sputtering wildly in the air due to a broken arm, vehemently flaps off into the distance.

"Do you.." Harry approaches Draco's side. "You can't believe that'll actually put an end to this?"

"We'll have to find out," he replies. "At the very least it'll delay them." He turns to McGonagall with a solemn expression. "In the meantime, headmistress, our focus should be to keep you safe. Potter; take Hermione and the children back to the Main Hall where you'll be safe for now."

"And you?" Hermione asks. "Where will the two of you be going?"

"To higher ground. The Astronomy Tower."

McGonagall presses her mouth into a thin line while solemnly nodding her head. "Very well."

Harry, Hermione and the children look to one another. "It never gets easier admitting this, but Malfoy's right," Harry states with confidence. "Keeping the children safe is our priority."

"No he's not!" Hermione insists. "What if something happens?"

Draco gives a firm head nod to Harry who places both hands on Teddy and Victoire's shoulders. He directs them from out of the room toward the Main Hall.

"Harry, where are you going?" Hermione pleads.

Draco walks up to her with his hands in his pockets.

"Draco, no." Tears well up in the waterline of her eyes. "It's safer with all of us together!"

He interlaces his fingers in hers as he presses his forehead against hers. He sniffs back a few tears while deeply staring into her eyes. "You're the most brilliant witch I've ever met. Just remember that I love you."

"Why're you talking like that?" her voice squeaks.

Placing both palms on the side of her head he presses his lips against her forehead. "I love you, Hermione," he repeats.

Her hands wrap around his forearms as tears stream down her cheeks. "I love you too, Draco."

And with that, Draco takes a step back and places his hand on McGonagall's back. "After you, headmistress."

Chapter Text

In a fit of hurry, Draco and Professor McGonagall make their way to the tallest tower in the castle; the Astronomy Tower.

Upon their arrival Draco stands in one of the glassless windows that was twice the height of his body. Resting his shoulder against the windowsill, he peers at the scene below.

The height of their vantage point gave the view of the front doors to Hogwarts which was cluttered by black ravenlike birds; dwindling by the moment and gradually fluttering away from the castle.

"Appears as though your plan has worked," McGonagall notes from behind him. "They're fleeing."

"Cut the head off the snake," he states in some sort of daze. Staring into the twinkling night sky, he contemplatively strokes his chin. "I find this location rather daunting, professor."

McGonagall tilts her head to the side, her eyes glued to the young Slytherin who turns to her.

"This is where I faced my greatest fear at the age of sixteen," he shares. The grave expression on his face hardens. "It's where I was ordered to assassinate the headmaster due to my father's shortcomings."

"That was a very unfortunate day, indeed," McGonagall agrees in a subdued manner.

"And now, here I find myself once again, revisiting something of the same sentiment."

"Mr. Malfoy?" The headmistress takes a considerate step forward with her fingers intertwined before herself. "I'm not sure I understand.."

"Do you know why Snape stepped in on that fateful night?"

McGonagall's eyes slowly rotate to one side. "Because you were unable to follow through with the task, of course."

"Be that as it may, Snape committed an unbreakable vow with my mother." Draco shoves both hands in his pockets while taking another step toward the edge of the windowsill. "If I were to fail in killing Dumbledore, he was to step in." He gradually wraps one leg around the other while turning back to the visibly tense headmistress. "Snape would have been killed if he hadn't followed through with the act; despite his own personal achievements."

While placing both arms behind her back, McGonagall slickly retrieves her wand from her robes and holds it safely between both hands. "There are certain rules that follow unbreakable vows. Certain limitations.."

With his back turned to her, he places both palms against the sides to the windowsill. "I've considered this," he offers. "But to no avail; I've found myself cornered into a promise that I've found I can't keep." The transparent unsteadiness in his voice is palpable.

"You're not a murderer, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall says delicately.

The statement bitterly reminds Draco of his father's words from earlier that night.

You don't have it in you to kill.

It was always your weakness.

"I killed tonight," he corrects almost too quickly. He turns to face her once more; his pale features completely stripped of color. "Watched the life flicker from my father's eyes."

McGonagall shifts her weight while clenching her wand tighter between both hands. She notices that his eyes gleam against the natural lighting projected through the window. Tears rim his icy blue eyes and his eyebrows pinch together.

"I made a commitment to my father that I would assassinate you; headmistress," he advises. "Although prior actions to this evening state different, I've found that I don't have it in me to follow through with the task, once more."

Running a quick hand under his nose, Draco peers at the ground stories beneath them. A sensation of someone clenching his heart into a fist fills his chest. Tears blur his vision as he stares at the property now cleansed of mutated birds.

"I view it as a sign of strength," McGonagall reassures, the grip on her wand loosening. "Mr. Malfoy, please remove yourself from the windowsill."

"And why would I do that?" Draco seethes, a sudden wave of anger washing over him. "I'd rather take my own life than place it in the hands of another. My father is dead, yet he still holds the last laugh."

"As noble of an act as it is for you to offer your life over mine, that won't be necessary," McGonagall advises sternly. She takes a gentle step forward and places a hand on his back. "Remove yourself, Mr. Malfoy," she firmly repeats.

Draco's head, shivering with fear, slowly turns back to her. His head hangs low as he doesn't move an inch. The upper half of his body tilts toward the gusting winds blasting his face from the opened window.

A sudden force field takes over his body, aggressively yanking him backward by the neck as he's forcefully shoved to the ground. He's held captive against the stoned floor, in an invisible body bind, as McGonagall takes a slow step toward him with her wand drawn. Her body towers over him as she looks down her nose at him.

The corners of her mouth crack into a light smile. "An unbreakable vow is only valid if both participants are still alive."

The binding charm alleviates as he reflexively stretches his limbs.

"Surely you wouldn't be so reckless as to commit to such a critical act without research, Mr. Malfoy?"

Draco places both palms and feet against the ground as he slowly crawls his way back against a wall. "Didn't possess that option when I was faced with a bloody terrorist army forcing my hand."

McGonagall offers her hand and he brings himself to his feet. His eyes curiously glance to the windowsill once more while straightening his jacket.

"Thank you, Draco," she states warmly; the usage of his first name catching him by surprise. "I don't know many people who would sacrifice themselves for the greater good. Especially for an elderly witch such as myself."

"A brilliant witch that Hogwarts requires," Draco corrects. The severity of the scenario remains on his pensive face, still shaken. "My loyalty has always lied with Hogwarts."

A toothless grin spreads across her face as she places both hands on the sides of his arms and brings him in for a rare hug.

The Purists made the executive decision to clear the castle and flee the scene. Without the advisement of their leader, the terrorist army crumbled within a matter of minutes as predicted.

Draco and McGonagall join Harry, Hermione and the rest of the staff to ensure the clearance to the outer castle. The students were currently returning safely to their common rooms under the advisement of the house prefects.

Draco separates himself from the rest and shakes Harry's hand. "I wanted to thank you," he states with a shameless smile. "You took care of Hermione and the rest in my absence."

"I'm rather experienced in these types of things," Harry reminds him. "Though I must ask; how does it feel, making the right decision and being on the good side this time around?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

Draco turns to find Hermione giving McGonagall a departing hug. She coyly smiles at him while tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"She's waiting for you mate," Harry mutters while firmly patting him on the shoulder.

Draco inhales a deep breath while giving a curt nod. He watches Harry give Hermione a hug in passing before escorting McGonagall through the corridors.

Once they're alone, Hermione sprints toward him and pulls him into a tight embrace. She reflexively nuzzles her nose against his neck.

Draco closes his eyes and strokes her back, holding onto her as though he never wanted to let her go. He slowly extends her at arm's length and traces a thumb along her cheek. The corners of his mouth curl as he lifts her chin and plants a quick kiss against her lips.

Pulling back, his eyes narrow as they examine hers. "All right, love?"

"I am now."

Draco scratches his head and swallows while taking a step back. A lot appeared to be crowding his mind and the vacant expression on his face didn't help depict his thoughts.

Hermione's eyes concernedly search his. "Are you alright?"

"I should be," he answers candidly. "Yet I wouldn't be fully honest if I said such."

"He was going to stop at nothing," she reassures. "You saved many lives; wizards and Muggles alike."

"Then why do I feel so.. so bloody guilty?" The sneer on his face gives the appearance that he was displeased with the words falling from his mouth.

"Because you're a good man, Draco Malfoy." She yanks on the collars of his shirt while causing him to hunch over her. "The man that I love."

He smirks while cupping a delicate hand around her cheek. "Say it again," he whispers against her lips.

She clenches his shirt harder, shaking his upper body. "I said you're a good man, Draco Malfoy."

"Not that part," he tempts.

"You're insufferable, do you know that?" she giggles.

He furrows his eyebrows and yanks her closer. "Not that part either."

Placing both palms against his cheeks, Hermione lowers his face to hers. "I love you; you prat."

Intertwining their fingers and pressing his forehead against hers, he stares deeply into her eyes. "I've wished to ask you something, yet I haven't found the appropriate time."

Hermione places her arms around his shoulders and nods her head.

"I feel like I'm a bloody teenager all over again," he groans, rolling his eyes at himself. "Would you give myself the honor of being your boyfriend, Hermione?"

Hermione's bites her lower lip before wrapping her fingers in his hair and passionately kissing him with great force. She breaks the kiss while keeping their noses pressed together. "Nothing would make me happier, Draco."

Chapter Text

Three Months Later

Hermione sits at the dining table in the spacious kitchen reading the Daily Prophet. Fresh out of the shower, her hair had been neatly curled and she wears a fuzzy bath robe and slippers. Draco cooks her breakfast as she tends to the cup of tea in hand.

"Can't believe it's already been a month since I've moved in," Hermione comments with a warm smile. "The Manor certainly needed a woman's touch."

Draco places a fresh plate of scrambled eggs and bacon before her. He takes a seat beside her while summoning the salt and pepper shaker from the end of the table. "Whatever you say, love."

Hermione pulls the cup of tea to her lips with both hands. "Next is that dreary, god awful dungeon downstairs," she mutters between sips.

"Whatever you say, love," he repeats with a smirk while stabbing a forkful of eggs.

They finish their breakfast and head to the bedroom to get dressed for the day. It was the last day at Hogwarts before the holiday and McGonagall would be addressing the House Cup.

Hermione removes the robes from her shoulders exposing the lacey slip that she was wearing underneath. Draco pauses while tying his tie in the mirror and gazes at her reflection. He spins on his heels and rushes toward her while wrapping his arms around her waist. She giggles as he tenderly kisses the length of her neck, pressing his lower body against hers.

She crumbles against his touch while fighting to maintain composure. Her finger slides down the length of his torso to his belt buckle. "We're already late, Draco."

His hand wanders from her waist to cupping her ass. "You can't do this to me," he lowly growls. "I'll go crazy all day, imagining you just like this."

Snapping out of it, Hermione swipes his hand away and takes a step back. "How many times must I tell you; I will never miss school events for a shag. It can wait." She gives him a slick smile while walking toward the closet, intentionally swaying her hips in a seductive manner. "Besides, maybe I enjoy driving you crazy."

"I'd believe it." Draco chases after her and scoops her up in his arms, holding her up by her thighs. She wraps her legs around his waist while bringing him in for a kiss.

"Fine," she folds. "But we must be quick."

"Good afternoon," the headmistress addresses the students in the Main Hall. "I'm proud to announce the end of the school year."

Teddy, Victoire, Jack and Grayson sit side by side at one of the elongated tables. All of the houses had slowly muddled together over time. The consolidation of the students was important during the Battle against the Purists no matter the house, and they felt a newfound sense of unification.

"Each of you has exhibited the strength of selflessness this year," the headmistress begins. "To reward the heroic actions of every house this year, I wish for us all to celebrate in unison."

The room breaks into applause that dwindles as the headmistress raises a hand.

"However, there must be only one, true winner of the House Cup. I'd like to address a few last-minute points to a select few." McGonagall clears her throat before announcing, "For the best transfiguration I have personally seen to date; Mr. Teddy Lupin. 50 points to Hufflepuff."

Jack elbows Teddy from the side who sits with pinkened cheeks. Being a Metamorphmagus was something he was born with yet was still trying to master. The headmistress' recognition gave him the inspiration to keep toying with his unique abilities.

"And for the admirable ability for one to create fire at the flick of her fingers; Ms. Victoire Weasley. 50 points to Ravenclaw."

"Did you hear that?" Victoire beams at Teddy. "How did she know?"

Grayson rolls his eyes. "Because she's the bloody headmistress, duh."

"And for the pristine agility and skill to fly their broomstick like a professional quidditch player; Mr. Jack Wood. 50 points to Gryffindor."

Jack puffs out his chest while looking across the crowd importantly.

"Congrats, Jack," Teddy comments with a pat on the back.

"Just like always," Grayson groans, shamefully rubbing the back of his head. "The lot of you get recognized, and I get-"

"And for the bravery of knowing between right and wrong, and one of the greatest loyalties that Hogwarts has ever seen; Mr. Grayson Goyle. 100 points to Slytherin."

Grayson turns beet red as Victoire grips his shoulders and excitedly shakes him.

"One hundred?" Jack repeats slack jawed. "Surely that'll put them in the lead," he adds resentfully.

"Don't worry, lad," Grayson mocks while throwing an arm around him. "You Gryff's still stand a chance."

"If my calculations are correct, that would conclude that Slytherin has won the House Cup." A broad smile crosses McGonagall's lips as she leads the room into applause.

Those wearing green and silver robes erupt in cheer; some standing from their seats and bouncing on their feet. "SLYTHERIN! SLYTHERIN!"

Draco sits at the front of the room beside Hermione and Harry. A genuine toothy smile crosses his lips as he joins in on the applause.

Harry reaches across Hermione to shake his hand. "Gryffindor was a close second," he advises. "Don't let it get to your head."

Draco tilts his head at him with a firm grip.

McGonagall claps once above her head revealing an array of lamb chops, mashed potatoes, pies and pudding across the tables. The students eagerly dig in while conversing among themselves and congratulating the Slytherin house.

Teddy holds Victoire's hand concealed from beneath the table. She gives him a coy smile while reaching for a piece of pie.

Draco, Hermione and Harry appear from behind them. Draco holds Hermione by the waist with one arm and his other hand in his pocket.

"Hi Draco," Victoire greets. "Congratulations on the win."

"Thank you, Victoire."

Teddy stands to his feet and widens his arms in front of Draco. The Slytherin's normal icy demeanor melts as he brings in his cousin in for an embrace.

"Aww," Grayson and Jack say in unison.

Teddy then turns to Harry who ruffles his hair; transitioning between the colors of the rainbow.

"I brought a Disney movie for tonight," Victoire informs holding up a finger. She retrieves the Muggle DVD from her bookbag and proudly displays it for the bunch. "It was laying around my granddad's house."

'Muggle movie night' had become a weekly commonality for Draco, Hermione, Teddy and Victoire. Every Friday evening they would get together at the Manor to bond over a newly selected, incredibly foreign to Teddy and Draco, movie. Hermione had brought her television from her cottage after moving in with the Slytherin.

Draco pinches his eyebrows together with his fingers. "Another bloody Disney movie? Please tell me this once doesn't end in some bloke kissing a dead girl; dodgy bastard."

Hermione giggles while retrieving the DVD from Victoire's hand. "Don't be such a grump," she warns. "I think I saw a tear or two escape your eyes when Snow White ate that apple and fell into a coma."

Draco dramatically rolls his eyes. He fervently shakes his head, assuring the men at the table that his girlfriend was surely blowing things out of portion.

"Besides, it's girls' week to choose the selection for Muggle movie night," Hermione reminds him. "Can't give up on tradition."

"A movie night, huh?" Jack asks full of curiosity. "And why haven't the Slytherin lad and myself been invited?"

Grayson tightly folds his arms. "I don't want to watch no Muggle movie about princesses."

"Sure you don't." Jack pinches his cheek causing Grayson to swipe at him.

"You're formally invited," Draco offers. "In fact.." He throws an arm around Harry who skeptically stares at him from the corner of his eyes. "Why not let Potter in on the fun? Wouldn't want for him to miss out."

"Yeah!" Teddy encourages. "It'll be fun."

Harry glares at Draco with a smirk. "Fine. For Teddy."

"It's settled, then." Hermione looks between all of them with a beaming smile. "Best finish up your feast in a hurry. Looks as though we're in for one thoroughly entertaining evening."