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Summary
“Why haven’t you told them who she is?” Draco asked. He’d just thought she didn’t have much value outside of being Potter’s best pawn.
Lucius’s hand landed on his shoulder, light in touch but heavy with implication. “I’d like to see what she’s planning. Nothing less than the best. You’re a Malfoy, and you don’t choose scraps. That’s what it means to carry our name.”
The war lingers while futures are decided.
And there is Draco Malfoy who gets a choice for once—a war prize befitting the Malfoy name.
And there is Hermione Granger, a flame burning in her eyes beneath the dirt and grime.
And there's both of them, caught in the middle of it all.