Later that night, Draco went to the hospital wing to...get Hermione?
He knew she would be able to go to the common room by herself, but with all the Hufflepuffs that have been throwing hexes at them, it was unlikely that she will arrive with no scars.
Why do you care though? A small voice in his head kept repeating the same exact sentence.
And if he is being honest, he didn't know or he was not ready to come to terms with his answer.
The voice kept repeating and repeating until he arrived at the hospital wing. Hermione was sat on the side of the bed, tying her shoe laces.
Draco leaned against the entrance door, his ankles crossed as he surveyed the wing.
The Hufflepuff was still there.
Good, Draco thought as he fought to keep the smirk at bay.
"Why are you smiling like that?"
He looked up and met Hermione's brown eyes, she was standing a few feet across from him, her hands on her hips and a curious smile on her face.
He shook his head, "Nothing."
She furrowed her eyebrows but changed the subject nonetheless, "What are you doing here?"
He shrugged, not having a reasonable excuse if he is being honest.
She lifted an eyebrow before a huge grin broke on her face, "Are you here to escort me to our common room, Malfoy?"
He rolled his eyes and muttered, "Coming?"
The grin was still on her face when she said, "Yeah."
Hermione walked the few steps between them and both of them exited the hospital wing, leaving only the Hufflepuff with the company of the ghosts who were flying around.
***
After countless of times trying to persuade Draco to change their route, he finally agreed to take her to the Astronomy tower since Miss "I am not ready to face those many faces." wanted to have some time alone.
Alone was apparently different in her dictionary since Draco was still with her, leaning over the railings of the Astronomy tower as Hermione looked over the forbidden forest and the stars.
"Do I want to know why we are here?" He asked.
She huffed, "I already told you. I am not ready to answer all those "Are you okay?" questions when I am obviously okay."
He lifted an eyebrow, "Why are you so sure you are going to attract that much attention anyway?"
She smiled mischievously, "You—"
"I don't want you to answer that." He interrupted her once he figured how stupid that question was, in the end, it was worth it, because she laughed at how he changed his opinion so fast.
If he could get drunk by only her voice, then her laughter can put him into a dreamless sleep for the rest of his life, because damn it if Hermione Granger's laugh is not the best thing he had ever had the pleasure to hear in his life.
But back to the point, of course people would be interested to know how the golden girl was doing, how did she get into that mess, why did she get in that mess?
Draco got so lost in his own thoughts and Hermione's laughter that he didn't notice what Hermione was doing until she nudged his shoulder.
"Huh?"
"Look." She motioned to the sky.
He looked up.
The night was so dark.
But the darkness was comfortable, even if only for a few hours. Because no one can see how you feel in the darkness, where all of your feelings get intensified.
The stars were so small that they were almost impossible to see, but the small lines that connected them —lines that weren't there in the beginning— made them look so clear.
The pale crescent moon shone like a silvery claw in the night sky.
Draco looked to his right to find that those lines that connected the stars were from Hermione's wand.
The lines connected the stars, forming a constellation that Draco would have laughed at the irony of it if the silence of the night wasn't so comforting.
"Careful there, Granger, or I will start to think that you like the origins of my name better than yours." He smirked softly at the Draco constellation.
She rolled her eyes, "Just because I drew the constellation of your name doesn't mean I like your name better."
He smirked, "Whatever you say."
The two of them stood in comfortable silence for a while, Hermione looking at the stars and the constellations that she created and Draco, whose mind was having an internal battle on whether he should do it or not.
In the end, his guilt won, because he went from silent to a blabbering mess in seconds.
"I am sorry." He blurted it out, and with it, the feeling of guilt lessened, but it was still not enough.
Hermione turned her head towards him.
"I-I am sorry for those past years," he took a deep breath, "The first five years...I was a git and an arse to you even though you didn't deserve it."
He released a shaky exhale, "I am not even going to make excuses for my actions, I should have understood and known that my father was wrong on my own, all of those unreasonable things he said —their blood is the color of mud," he rolled his eyes, "All of it was unbelievable and I still believed him, even when my mother told me all about prejudice, how it was all just one big lie, how everything purebloods said about muggle-borns was just what their ancestors taught them. Purebloods like tradition, they like to follow the rules that were set before they were even born. I am not asking you to forgive me because of that, I am just trying to say my part. I was taught by my father, my father was taught by my late grandfather and so on. But, that is by no means an excuse for what I did to you."
He inhaled deeply before exhaling slowly, "You didn't deserve to get bullied by a git who didn't have his own opinion, and for that I apologize."
"And those past few years, I knew that I was on the wrong side but my parents and I—" he shook his head, "We should have asked for help. Dumbledore offered me protection, but those lengths were not going to extend to my parents, and I only have them, I couldn't lose my family. So I did what I did best, ruin things, if I didn't let those death eaters into Hogwarts then maybe all of this wouldn't have happened."
He looked at her forearm, "Maybe this wouldn't have happened."
Silence encompassed them both.
Hermione started at him, lips pursed and eyebrows furrowed, as if she was debating what to do.
Slowly, she lifted her wand to her left arm.
Draco furrowed his eyebrows, "What are you doing?"
She smiled slightly, "Proving your ancestors wrong."
With one swift move, Hermione made a small cut on her forearm.
Draco's eyes widened, "What are you doing?!"
He moved to grab her forearm but she moved it out of his reach.
She lifted an eyebrow, challenging him.
He huffed and leaned back, his eyes on the blood pouring out of the small cut on her forearm.
"I hope you know that I know that your blood is red, I thought I made it pretty obvious." He remarked.
She smiled slightly, "I know, and I believe you," she moved to the corner of the Astronomy tower, "But it doesn't hurt to prove anyone else who thinks the opposite of how inaccurate they are."
She moved her wand and drops of the blood moved from her forearm to the wall of the Astronomy tower —next to their initials— and slowly but surely, a sentence was written on the wall by her blood that was drying slowly.
He furrowed his eyebrows, "What did you write?"
She smirked, "Come see for yourself."
Draco moved to her right and read the small letters that were almost invisible to the eye.
"That is what you call mudblood, see for yourselves."
Draco squinted his eyes before a smirk spread on his face. He leaned back and put his hands in his pockets before saying, "Nice one, Granger."
"I would love to hear that one again." She smiled mischievously.
He looked at her, his grey eyes focused on her brown ones, and Hermione was surprised to find flecks of blue in them, lightening his eyes and his whole face.
His smirk turned to a grin slowly, "Nice one, Hermione."
Hermione's eyebrows were on the brink of shooting up to her hairline but she stopped them from doing so.
Why is it that her first name sounds so lovely on his lips?
***
Draco stood in front of the mirror, adjusting his suit jacket.
Today was Sunday.
His father politely demanded to see him and Draco was debating whether or not was it worth it to waste an hour of talk with him.
But in the end, he finally relented to his father's wishes...not that he liked what he was about to do.
His hair was styled just like his sixth year —the way his father liked it— and his black suit was as flattering as always.
He didn't want to get on his father's wrong side before even opening his mouth to talk, Merlin knows how his father appreciates appearances.
Draco took a deep breath, reaching in his pocket to make sure his wand was where it was supposed to be.
It wasn't.
He rolled his eyes as he neared the bedside table, looking for his hawthorn wand.
He groaned in frustration when he couldn't find it.
"Looking for this?"
Draco turned around to see Hermione holding his wand in her right hand, a nervous smile on her face.
He nodded.
She walked closer to him before handing him the wand and stepping back a little.
"I forgot to ask you this earlier, but I was wondering if you asked professor McGonagall about the binding spell. We can't be away from each other for more—"
He shook his head, "I'll be gone for two hours at the most, don't worry about that."
She gave a nod.
"Well, good luck." She gave him another nervous smile and Draco just realized how much he needed to see it.
And see her.
"Thanks, I'll need that."
***
His shoes hit the floor with thuds every step he took, and his heart pounded along the quiet thuds.
Maybe he should turn back...
No, he wasn't backing down now. He is not afraid and certainly not of his father.
Not afraid of his father.
Despite himself, a memory that wasn't even two years ago was playing in moving images in his mind, reminding him of his fear and weaknesses.
"Draco, go check on the prisoners, we don't want them escaping now, do we?" Bellatrix ordered as she twirled her wand, sitting on one of the chairs in front of the fireplace.
"Bellatrix, that is not his—"
Draco interrupted his mum, "That's okay, mum. I got it." And with that, he stood up and headed towards the dark cellar where Luna and Mr. Ollivander were imprisoned.
Draco's feet pounded on the marble floor as he walked towards the stairs of the cellar, once there, he casted a lumos before descending down the stairs.
Upon his arrival, Luna smiled at him as she sat in front of the iron door, Mr. Ollivander was sleeping on the side, a blanket covered his body, a blanket that Draco secretly provided for him, seeing as he was old and his bones were weak and the coldness of the cellar was certainly not helping.
"Lovegood." He gave her a slight smile that was barely visible.
"Hello, Draco." She smiled brightly at him, as if she wasn't imprisoned.
"How—"
He stopped himself. "How are you doing?" Was he just about to ask an imprisoned and starved teenager how she was?
Utterly idiotic.
He swallowed, "I came here to check up on you guys, do you need anything? A blanket? Food? An—"
She shook her head, smiling, "I am okay. But if you can, Mr. Ollivander would undoubtedly appreciate it if you got him something to eat."
Draco furrowed his eyebrows, wondering why would she didn't ask for something for herself.
Probably because she is a human being and cared about other people.
Draco suppressed the urge to snort, the fact that he was never put in this position speaks volumes. The fact that he always cared about only himself —and his mother— described his selfish self just fine.
Draco nodded and turned to leave but stopped moving when another muffled sound came from inside.
Draco furrowed his eyebrows, "Who is there?!"
More muffled sounds.
He turned to Luna, "Is there someone else here?"
She shook her head, "There had been voices since we came here. We didn't investigate, thought it was a rat or something."
He quirked an eyebrow and reached for the keys, unlocking the iron door and closing it behind him.
He moved tentatively towards the back of the cellar, his wand trained on the dark wall.
Once in the back, he turned around the column that was in the middle of the right wall and came face to face with a closet.
His eyebrows furrowed. He didn't know this was here.
"Stay back!" He called to Luna when he heard feet shuffling.
"I have got this, don't worry." He assured her before opening the closet with a swish of his wand, not before taking a deep breath of course.
The closet flew open and —unsurprisingly— a mirror appeared.
Draco stepped closer, knowing already what his boggrat was.
In the mirror, an older and stricter Draco Malfoy stood. His eyebrows raised high and his eyes burning into younger Draco's.
Draco swallowed and took a deep breath, the resemblance between this older version of Draco and Lucius Malfoy was immaculate and he didn't like it at all.
Draco glared at the eyes of his older self and seethed through gritted teeth, "I will never be you."
And with a swish of his wand, the mirror broke into million of pieces, the reflection of the older Draco Malfoy now disheveled and barely recognizable.
He took a few steps back...and left without another word.
Draco didn't realize he was in front of the iron door until a guard with black robes cleared his throat.
"Are you ready, Mr Malfoy?" The guard opened the door as he said so.
Draco thought "No" but said "Yes" as he entered the cell, sweat already forming on his eyebrows and hands clenching and unclenching.
***
Hermione was confused. Utterly confused.
After the owl had dropped her chasse aux partenaires letter when she was in the library, Hermione decided to go check if her friends were in the common room.
But that wasn't what Hermione was confused about, no. Hermione was confused about this.
Just as she left the library, Hermione pumped into a smaller frame than hers.
When she walked a few steps back, she was met by the dark eyes of Daphne —no— Astoria Greengrass. The resemblance in both of the sisters was very obvious if it wasn't for the hair color difference.
Astoria was in her Slytherin robes, her face wore a cold mask and her eyes were dark, showing no emotion, however, there was a hint of...annoyance and envy in her eyes and in the way she kept clenching and unclenching her hands.
"Sorry, I didn't see you there." Hermione attempted a smile but failed miserably.
Astoria glared at her hard, her features not changing, "Maybe get some glasses. I heard muggle-borns have bad eye sight."
Hermione was taken aback by the reply. Astoria and her never had bad blood, in fact, they never even talked.
Astoria pushed past Hermione, her shoulder pumping into hers on the way.
Hermione had the urge to turn around and retort with something, but she suppressed that urge and managed to only roll her eyes as she headed towards the common room.
***
Once Hermione was in the common room, she was met by Blaise and Adrian, who were both sitting on the couches.
"Granger! Over here!" Blaise called as he spotted her.
Hermione smiled at the pair and approached them.
During the few weeks she has been at Hogwarts, she has gotten closer to all of the Slytherins, with them going to classes together, sitting in the great hall together and sharing the common room of course.
Adrian scooted to the side, letting Hermione sit, before dropping his head on her lap.
Hermione snorted at his easiness, maybe if some people were like him, life would be so much easier.
"Careful there, someone might get snappy and we all know that he will not be in the best mood when he comes back." Blaise warned Adrian, a smirk on his face.
Hermione furrowed her eyebrows as she listened to Blaise's comment and Adrian's reply, "He can't be angry at me when I am already spoken for."
Both Blaise and Hermione's eyes widened, "Spoken for?!" they asked at the same time.
He hummed and nodded his head.
Hermione forgot about Blaise's comment compelled as he asked Adrian to spill.
"Who is it you bastard?!" Blaise threw a pillow at him that ended up in Hermione's face.
Hermione gritted her teeth, "Him, Blaise. Not me." She threw the pillow at Blaise who was stifling a laugh, "But yes, who is it?"
Adrian shook his head, "I don't kiss and tell."
Blaise and Hermione rolled their eyes and were about to try and convince him to tell them who she —or he, they don't know for sure— was when the common room door opened and a wave of blond hair, grey eyes and a black suit stormed inside.
The blond gave Hermione and the two Slytherins a look before his jaw clenched and his fingers dug into his skin more. He rolled his eyes and stormed up the stairs to their room.
Hermione blinked a few times as Blaise put his hands behind his head and relaxed back on the couch, "Told you so."
Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed Adrian off, he muttered a "rude" but let her stand up nonetheless.
"Where are you going?" Blaise asked, suddenly tensing.
She shrugged, "I'll see what twisted his knickers."
Blaise laughed nervously, "I don't that's a go—" but she was already up the stairs.
Blaise rolled his eyes and threw his hands into the air, "And she is gone."
"Want to bet who will we hear yelling first?" Adrian smirked.
Blaise grinned.
***
Draco sat on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands and his mind swirling.
Apparently, his visit to his father wasn't enough, no, he just had to see Adrian and Hermione being lovey dovey together.
Wonderful.
He groaned and fell on his back, his hands rubbing his eyes.
"Trouble in Azkaban?" Hermione leaned against the door, her arms crossed over her chest.
He rolled his eyes, "Not funny."
"I wasn't trying to be funny." She said as she approached his bed and sat down.
They have been living in the same room for weeks, no need for formalities or that kind of shit.
"What do you want?" He groaned as he grabbed a pillow and put it on his face.
She rolled her eyes as she took the pillow out of his grip, "No need for dramatics."
He glared at her, "I am not being dramatic, that visit was horrendous."
She furrowed her eyebrows as she grabbed his hands and pulled him against the bed so he could be sitting next to her.
She leaned her head on top of his shoulder and he huffed, "Are you drunk?"
She shook her head, "No, but pretending to hate each other has gotten out of hand, don't you think?"
He swallowed and didn't give a reply.
"Now, you going to tell me what happened?" She murmured, closing her eyes.
"Don't want to talk about it." He grumbled, laying his cheek reluctantly on top of her head.
But is it actually reluctantly if he wanted to do it in the first place?
"Was it that bad?" She asked.
Draco thought back to his meeting with his father, memories rushing to the forefront of his mind.
"Draco." Lucius Malfoy stood in front of the smallest of windows —the only window in the cell— and clasped his hands behind his back, not facing Draco.
"Father." Draco clenched his hands.
The cell only had a table and two chairs, presumably for Draco and Lucius.
From the looks of it, this cell wasn't were Lucius stayed, for the cells that the prisoners stayed in were far worse than this.
Lucius turned and faced him and Draco supposed the urge to grimace.
The Lucius Malfoy he knew wore the best of robes, the shiniest of footwear and had the smoothest of locks.
But this Lucius Malfoy was nothing like the one he once knew.
This Lucius Malfoy wore ugly and dusted robes, his feet were bare and his hair was in a disheveled state and longer than usual.
His father smiled at him, "Sit, Draco."
Draco approached the chair and waited for his father to sit first before he sat down as well.
"Why did you want to meet me?" Draco asked right away.
Lucius's eyebrows went high to his hairline, "Straight to the point, I see. Very well."
Lucius clasped his hands together and put them on the table in front of him, "Your mother."
Draco glared at him, "My mother is none of your business."
Lucius shook his head, "You got that wrong, dear son. Cissy will always be my business, we are married after all. Marriage, lovely concept, something that you should—"
"What do you want with mother?" Draco interrupted him.
Lucius shook his head, "Manners, manners, manners, forgot them, haven't you?"
Draco glared and bit the inside of his cheek to suppress a retort, "Why did you request this meeting, father?"
"I want your mother to visit me." Lucius said.
Draco shook his head, "You know that is not possible, she is in ho—"
Lucius slammed his hands on the table, "You know there is a way around this! You know if she wants to come meet me, she will! You know she can respond to my letters if she wants to!"
Draco took a deep breath as Lucius calmed down.
Draco held his head high when he said, "She doesn't want to see you."
"Draco, son, you can convince her otherwise. I want to see her, I need to see her." There was a hint of desperation in his voice, desperation that Draco hadn't heard since Voldemort's stay at their manor.
"This is her choice, I am not forcing her to do something she doesn't want to do. That includes meeting you." Draco seethed.
"Son, please."
Lucius Malfoy never pleaded for anything —other than his and his family's life— so it was really a shock when he pleaded to meet his wife.
Draco swallowed, he knew he couldn't get his mother to meet him, there was a very fine line between hate and love and right now, He knew his mother didn't know if she hated or loved his father.
"Look, I will try to get her to write to you, but I make no promises. If she says no, then it is a no from me as well."
Lucius nodded eagerly and clasped his son's hands, "I owe you for this, Draco."
"You owe me for a lot of other things, father." Draco muttered then pulled his hands away.
"If that's it, then I'll be goi—"
"I am not done yet, son." Lucius shook his head.
"What else?" Draco asked, clenching his jaw.
"The Malfoy heir."
Draco rolled his eyes, "I am eighteen years old, I don't think that this matters now."
"Our trad—"
"I don't care about our tradition, father! I am not falling victim to one of those arranged marriages just because you want an heir! If I want to marry someone, then I'll marry whoever I want and you'll have your precious heir, but if I don't want to get marr—"
"Then what? What will happen if you don't want to get married?" Lucius seethed through gritted teeth.
Draco took a deep breath, "Then the Malfoy line will end with me."
Before his father could say something else, Draco turned around and exited the cell.
Draco grimaced as he remembered the awful visit, "Yes, it was."
***
Follow me on my tiktok for sneak peaks and Dramione videos! Username is mar_writer.
Chapter 17 will be up next Saturday!