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Chapter Text

Love is stronger than everything.

Sun rays gently caressed the bed. It was one of those early summer days when the light was so pure and bright. Narcissa held her miracle daughter, whose eyes shone like pure jewels, and her son, whose hair was as pure as the summer light. Despite her difficult delivery, she was not feeling the pain as she was absorbed in the pure bliss of having in her arms her perfect twins after years of hardship. Her husband was beside her, a loving hand on her shoulder, as she was fondly caressing her daughter’s cheeks. Life was perfect, and their joy was immense. 

However, the joyful moments came to a crashing end in the form of a devastating thunderstorm. At the end of Summer, storms were coming every night. Summer rain is nearly poetic, but summer storms are dark and brutal, tearing the heart away.

Servus Snape sat across the winter garden table; next to him, wriggling in his chair, was Sirius Black. Although estranged by divergence of opinion, Narcissa was trying to maintain a close relationship with her Black cousin and her sister Andromeda. She would often invite them when her Husband was not home. She did not like lying to him, but she could not sacrifice her family over some purity 'concept.'

Snape hated Black as the honorary member of the clan that bullied him all his tenure at Hogwart, but it seems fate had a peculiar way of tying destinies together.

"Narcissa," Snape started in a barely audible tone. "the oracles…they are clear," he stammered before being cut off by the woman sitting across him. She knew the prophecy regarding the One who would kill the Darklord.

"I know, dear, but Draco cannot be. He was born too early," she proceeded scooping her son from his cradle as the babe was fussing. Snape opened his mouth again, to be cut by Narcisa, presenting the blond infant to him, "Hold your godson, Severus! I need to pick up Diana."

Seeing the inefficiency of his former Hogwarts classmate, Sirius tried his luck: "Please cousin, it is not about Draco." He continued, "The Seer; she saw something else." Snape took the opportunity to clear his throat before reciting: 

Born on Saint James fires month as the heathen dancing. Stronger as the huntress, she will carry the most powerful wizard’s offspring.

The room fell into a cold silence with only the sound of the storm as a background soundtrack. 

The blond witch was petrified as if a mandragora scream had frozen her expression in a distressed mask.

“What does it mean?” she pleaded as if she suddenly realized, and a strangled sob erupted from her perfectly painted lips. “They cannot do that to us, to me,” she rectified. “Everything is so perfect. She is my daughter.” 

“ I am so sorry, dearest Cousin. It can only be her; she is the only one fitting the description,” Black added sadly. 

“No! No! someone else might be !” She cut, hastily calling the house elves to bring the Wizarding birth records. Suddenly, propulsed out of the silence, Snape reached toward his friend. 

“Narcissa, you should trust us. We already looked, Diana is the only pure-blood babe born in June.”

Time was suspended as tears ran down like diamonds rivers on her cheeks. Sirius was looking at the young Draco sleeping peacefully. He was unable to be a witness of that dire agony. Severus was still holding her hands as she stood abruptly. “I need to tell Lucius.” 

“No!” both men shouted at the same time. 

“The less people involved, the better. We must keep this information away from him as much as possible.” By saying him, Sirius was referring to the Darklord himself, as his shadow was looming over them. 

In between her sobs, the dark haired potion master last spoke. “I have plan” 

__________________________________

Few things happened after that night. Severus encouraged Narcissa to write a few letters, addressing the situation to him, Andromeda, and Sirius. Those letters had to be kept in a secret location for each of the recipients. She proceeded, still under Severus' command, to obliviate all of them, including Diana's father, Lucius. 

Now the only remaining person entrusted with her daughter's secret, she fled as fast as she could. Lucius was worried at first. Why would she want to leave so close after giving birth to their boy? However, Lucius ignored that his wife was a skilled manipulator. She brushed it off, saying that the house elves could take care of their son perfectly well for a couple of days while she was visiting her relatives in the Scottish countryside. 

Narcissa wanted to laugh at the simplicity of convincing her husband with her lies. He mostly thought he was in charge of their relationship, but she knew otherwise. 

When she woke up in the middle of the night to obliviate him, Narcissa felt her heart sink. She did not want to deprive, her husband of the joy of having a daughter, but she felt that destiny was too powerful. She had left Lucius a letter on his nightstand, explaining that she had left in the wee morning hours as her trip to Scotland would be draining for her. She was not going to Scotland to visit her relatives.

On a beautiful late summer night, she crossed the English Channel with her daughter securely clenched to her breast. The portkey journey was rough, as it was a black market portkey. She reached her destination, a small village in the southwest of France. There, she reunited with an old friend of hers whom she met during a semester abroad in "Beaux Batons." Her friend, Isolde, was now married to an Irish muggle and was living peacefully in a small village nested into the picturesque French landscape. She handed over her girl to her friend. She explained that the babe was the daughter of one of her relatives for which she could not reveal their identity. She added that the babe birth would cause scandal for her family and that she needed a foster home. Isolde and her husband had trouble conceiving, and the fair little girl was a beacon of hope for the couple.

Narcissa did not stay too long, letting the couple fussing over her precious little bundle. She knew that her little jewel was safe, but despair grew in her chest about the selfishness of her act. She deprived her son of his twin, the husband of his daughter, and herself of watching Diana grow as a beautiful human. Devastated by the situation and exhausted by her travel, she found solace in the forever snowed picks of the Pyrenees in the small castle she owned. 

Chapter Text

Diana grew up in a bucolic landscape, surrounded by parents who adored her. She knew from a young age two valuable things: Her parents, as much as she loved them, were not her birth parents.
It was obvious. Her adopted mother was a short southern lady with dark curly hair, olive skin, and dark eyes. Her adopted dad, being Irish, had strawberry blond locks with deep green eyes, the same color as the moss. However, it was someday complicated for her as the other kids at the muggle school were often cruel. They called her the phantom as her complexion was fair, her hair almost white, her eyes grey as a summer storm and her overall silhouette very lean. For that reason, Diana engulfed herself in her solitude, often reading books during the breaks and hardly talking to anyone.
She knew; she was not like the other kids because her mom told her. The Mediterranean woman was a witch and had confided in her adopted daughter that she was a witch too. Isolde, Diana's adopted mother, made sure to read all the wizarding tales. She explained to the young Arctic blond that her destiny would be to become a great member of the wizarding world. Outside of this little something added ( not so little, according to her mother), Diana had a standard childhood. She often played outside, making friends with the local ravens, feeding them, and giving them names. She loved the calm of the oak tree forest behind her house, where she often scavenged herbs and barks for her mother's remedies.
Every year, Saint-James fires marked her birthday month. Diana and her parents visited a family friend's manor called “La Gaité Castle". The beautiful British witch that owned the castle had long black hair and deep black eyes. She was very proper and well-educated, like a well-off lady from the old times. She offered tea and sweet pastries.
She was always curious about the young girl's well-being and daily life. On Diana's eleventh anniversary, whose anniversary marked her entry into the wizarding world, the beautiful British witch, now called "Aunt Cissa", offered her a beautiful albino Raven as a familiar. Diana would always recall that day.
"Aunt Cissa, Why choose a raven as a familiar?" the young witch asked. "Do you think Beaux-Batons would accept a raven?"
The older woman's eyes shone with a mischievous glow. "Yes, my dear niece, ravens are clever, sometimes as clever as humans", she politely laughed, "Perse Neige would be the best companion for you!"
Her mother added, “Ravens are as reliable as owls and their bond is often stronger than with any other familiar.”Diana looked at her raven. The bird had snow-white feathers like her hair and an intelligent gaze.
At the end of the summer, Diana and Percy (Perse-neige in short) entered the halls of Beaux-Batons school. The beautiful castle in the Pyrenees mountains shone like a fairytale castle. For the first time in her life, she was at ease. Even if her natural solitary nature remained, she made a couple of friends—notably, the school's most famous vela, Fleur Delacour. The beautiful and noble girl was a few years older than her.
Diana remembered their first meeting as one of her most humiliating moves. Mesmerized by the vela's beauty, her first words fell from her lips without realizing it. “I think I fell in love, and I cannot explain it. You look like a dream.” Shy by nature, Diana did not understand what was happening to her until a crystalline laugh broke her thought. “I am part vela that might be the reason. I am Fleur. Nice to meet you.” “I am Diana. Nice to meet you, and sorry.” They both laughed.
From there, as simple as this weird meeting went, the two girls started a friendship. Fleur was an excellent student, highly skilled in duels and potions. They both share a passion for potions. Life continued its course in an uneventful manner for the young French witch, surrounded by friends and family and of course, Percy was staying with her almost hundred percent of the time. Who knew that ravens were so attached to humans?

Chapter Text

“Young Master.” “My Little Prince.” “The Malfoy heir.”

Draco grew up in privileges and with a golden spoon in his mouth. He knew it so well. 

Being the sole heir of the wizarding England's wealthiest family helped. 

As a kid, he could only start thinking of what he desired, and his mother would have already provided it. She was showering him with presents and praises. He got the newest broom on the market before everyone else, even though he was not of age to fly. He received the original version of "Hogwart an History."

He was tutored by the greatest wizards; some say that even Newt Scamander taught him. It was not true, by the way. How can a lowly Hufflepuff be allowed to step foot in the Malfoy ancient estate? 

While his mom was overprotective of him, his dad was his greatest admiration. For him, he was the paradigm of the wizarding elite: rich, athletic, pureblood, and so very powerful. Once his dad was home from the ministry, he narrated Draco for all the complicated wizarding laws he enacted. The young boy was mesmerized. His dad was adamant about the purity of the blood. An obsession Draco would realize years later was borderline pathologic. 

He remembered his dad saying: 

“Today, this idiot of Weasley brought up again about muggle rights in our panel discussion. How can we consider such vile and low-ranking creatures to have rights? They are closer to the house elf than to us. What do you think, my dear?”

His mother smiled politely, “My dearest, do not stress yourself for such vile topics.” She signaled to the house elf to bring more wine to her husband, and she stood from the table. 

“Dears, I will get some sleep because I will have to leave early tomorrow.” 

Lucius sighed inelegantly. “Why do you always have to visit your relatives in Scotland? Why are you never bringing Draco with you?” 

Breaking the distance from her husband, she placed a delicate kiss on Lucius's cheeks. 

“My Love, we talked about it several times. My cousin Darcy lost countless kids. I do not want to upset her by bringing my precious little prince.” While saying this, she reached Draco, pushing to the table next to him, yet another present. 

“I brought you a nice book, my dragon, so you do not miss me so much.” 

After her departure, the same silence was falling over him. His dad would leave to work, and Draco would be alone. Growing up, he could interact briefly with other kids during some tutored sessions. His mom thought it would do him good to socialize. 

However, Draco was well aware of his status. He knew that even within Pureblood Elite, he was elite. This deep-rooted feeling resulted in him not having friends rather than minions. Perfect examples were Goyle and Crabbe. 

At eleven, like all the wizard kids, Draco received his Hogwarts letter. The boy did not feel excited as this event was bound to happen. Being a bit blazé, he strolled on Diagonal Alley with his mom to get the supplies and still being rather blazé, he embarked on the Hogwarts Express. The train was full of young kids. Someone already lost their familiar in the wagon. Before leaving, his dad had entrusted Draco with two missions:

• Staying away from mudblood kids and refraining from engaging with half blood 
• Befriending Harry Potter

Focused on his mission and eager to please his dad, Draco had tried to talk to Potter before embarking. On the train, he had searched for him. However, he did not find him in the chaos. Time was playing against him. Draco was starting to despair when he saw the brown-haired kid entering the castle. Rushing forward, he bumped into Potter's friends. Seeing that the friend was a Weasley, and not being at ease to approach Potter, he did the only thing he was good at. Taking his most condescending voice, he pronounced: “Ugly red hair, you must be Weasly! Potter, if I were you, I would choose your entourage better!” 

Potter looked confused and a bit shocked from such a first meeting. Before Draco could open his mouth again, the “chosen” one spoke,” He is my friend. I choose who I want to hang out with, and I believe I would not choose you.”

Everyone started to laugh at this public humiliation. It was the first time in Draco’s life that someone talked to him like this. Infuriated, he spat, “You do not know who my father is!” 

Ready to add more venom to the conversation, he was cut short by Mcgonagal's thick Scottish accent, “I am sure you have something very interesting to discuss, Mr Malfoy, but it would have to wait.”

Humiliated twice in five minutes, Draco was fulminating. Above all, he knew that he had failed his mission. How could he sustain a friendship with such a bad start? He would have to explain to his father that the young Potter was already too corrupted. 

Chapter Text

Sorted in Slytherin as expected, Draco thought his years at Hogwarts would be a simple formality. He had been tutored all his life. He was the heir to the Malfoy house. He was pure blood and a brilliant one. He knew that a bright path was waiting for him at Slytherin. However, failing to befriend the Potter boy should have been his warning. 

He always looked up to his father but always knew the high standards his dad had for him, especially when entering Hogwarts. In addition to the Potter fiasco, Draco failed the test for the Quidditch team. However, the biggest failure was that the first place in the ranking, naturally reserved for him, was occupied by another. She was not an ordinary person. She was a muggle-born: a muggle-born and a girl! How humiliating. 

At first, Draco could not believe it. The bushy-haired girl was a muggle, a dirty blood, and an underspecies, and she did not have tutors. How could she know all of that? Her little hand was always raised and ready to answer. She was getting the highest grades, always studying in the library. 

One day during the spring term, Draco was lurking outside the dinner hall when he heard a bright laugh. Getting closer to the noise, he saw her with friends. They were not ordinary friends: she was holding the shoulder of the red-haired Weaslebee. He could not believe it. Now, his disbelief became anger. He hated her because she was a filthy mulblood, and she was better than him. The honey-brown girl was good at school, a hard worker, and had friends who loved her. His anger became a burning rage. He wanted to crush the light in her eyes and make her cry until her eyes became red. 

She represented his failure. A failure his dad was reminding him of in every letter. It was funny how fast the proud dad became a bully for him. He dreaded every owl and every vacation. To crown it all, his mother was often away, and the only way to talk to her was via letters. 

He remembers one day writing to her over the third year: "Dear Mother, 

I have been well, and I thank you for the presents attached to your last letter. 

I wanted to let you know that I will be joining at the winter ball, as you requested. 

We won the match with the team in Quidditch. Potter was devastated, but I preferred Weasley's face. 

Regarding academics, I ranked first in potions, but in duel class, I am 3rd. Potter is first as he is cheating, and the second is this ugly mudblood, I talk to you about it in our previous letter. I want to make her cry, but I am following your advice to ignore her.

Yours truly, 

D."

A couple of days later, he sent another letter: 

“ Dear Mum, 

She hit me in the face! Can you imagine? I wrote to father that such a mean act should be reprimanded. 

I hate her, mother, and I apologize for not following your advice any longer.

Your son, 

D.”

Over the third year, Draco took pleasure in torturing her and calling her names. He totally forgot the purpose of the bullying; it was not to feel less of a failure. He wanted her attention, and he wanted her to know her place. Weirdly, she was a strong specimen. She cried, but she held her stand, always challenging him or, if not glaring at him with contempt. He hated even more her contempt. The bright witch could not be bought or subdued like all the others, and he hated it. 

Chapter Text

The air was bustling with an odd energy. The first day of school used to be exciting and a bit stressful at most. However, Diana felt it in the air that something was unusual. She was attending her first class when the school steward, Mrs Petronille, came to pick her up; she said with her very high-pitched voice: “Mademoiselle Diana Randal, vous êtes attendue dans le bureau de Mademoiselle Maxime.”

“Mademoiselle Diana Randal, you are expected in Mademoiselle Maxime's office.”

Diana, confused but well-educated, followed the tiny little steward in the silvery corridors. Beaux-Batton's head office looked like a fifteenth-century Renaissance salon with a coffered ceiling and rich tapestries. The abnormally tall headmistress sat in a ridiculously tiny velvet chair. Her plume was writing notes while the woman sipped a glass of what looked like whiskey. Without raising her gaze, she spoke, “ Mademoiselle Randall?”

“Oui, Madame Maxime, c’est bien moi” (Yes, Mrs Maxime, it’s me)

Mrs Maxime choked on her whiskey before rectifying, “Mademoiselle Maxime, ma chère, je suis encore une jouvencelle.” (Mademoiselle Maxime, dearest, I am still a youngling.)

The young witch could not refrain from a strange look to the headmistress. The headmistress looked older than her mom, but seems to be a bit delusional. Diana silenced herself to comment on anything. The “young” Headmistress spoke again: “Mademoiselle vous avez été sélectionnée pour participer à un échange universitaire sans précédent. Vous accompagnerez la compagnie Beaux-Bâton Outre-manche. Vous avez une chance immense de faire partie des privilégiés. Vos excellents résultats, votre conduite exemplaire ainsi que l'indéfectible amitié de votre chère Fleur, vous permette cette opportunité en or.” 

“Miss, you have been selected to take part in an unprecedented university exchange. You will be accompanying the Beaux-Bâton company across the Channel. You are extremely lucky to be one of the lucky ones. Your excellent results, your exemplary conduct, and the unwavering friendship of your dear Fleur will give you this golden opportunity.”

 Mrs Maxime started to look for a paper on her tiny desk. “Voilà” (Here) she said “Tous les papiers sont en ordre, vos parents sont prévenus, nous partons demain.”

“All the paperwork is in order, and your parents are informed. We leave tomorrow.” 

Diana had no time to process. She merely managed to utter, “Mais… Madame! Mademoiselle Pardon!” The old witch gestured her wand toward the door, and Diana’s feet walked themselves toward the exit. 

As soon as she was out of the headmistress's office, she ran to her friend Fleur. Out of breath, she found her strolling in the Chateau’s garden. “Fleur!” she shouted.

“Diana, Why do you look like a ghost?” the vela said playfully. 

“I was with Mrs Maxime… Sorry Mademoiselle Maxime. She told me we are leaving tomorrow for Hoghead ?” Fleur crystalline laughter resonated in the luxuriant gardens. 

“Hogward! Yes, I know, but I have to admit, I was made aware yesterday. We are going for the Trizarding contest. It has not happened in years. It is so exciting!

Three main champions would be chosen from three different wizarding schools. They would compete in three rounds. I am looking forward to it !” 

Diana was less excited than her friend, to say the least. She looked at Fleur, whose eyes were gleaming with excitement. 

“ I would have preferred staying here. I love the mountains and the people here. I am not ready to leave.”

“It will be fine! I promise! I will be with you all the time, and you will be making new friends”

Diana faked a smile. She was not worried about making friends. 

The icy blond witch had been alone before. She was worried about her family. She knew her birth parents were from Great Britain. What if they try to contact her? What if she had siblings? Or worse. She tried to occult all the anxiety that was raging in her heart. She could not sleep that night. 

The carriage ride was shaky, to say the least. Diana had never traveled in the Beaux-Baton carriage, and she now understood her peer called it the salad spinner. A bit nauseous but still alive, She set foot for the first time on British soil. In this month of September, the air was chill, and the sky was low with grey clouds. The Scottish countryside napped in a light fog, and the rain made the vegetation glistery slightly. Hogwarts Castle had nothing in common with Beaux-Baton. It had a rustic aspect with brownstones and many towers. On the inside, the tapestry and the hall fire made it warmer than its exterior, but she missed her home. 

Mademoiselle Maxime insisted on a full-blown demonstration. All the girls had to wear the ceremonial silk uniform and beret from the usual cotton uniform.

Gabrielle, Fleur's little sister, had to open the cortege while the rest of the students blew magical blue butterflies within the room.

Diana was already tired of such a ceremony, but to her great relief, it lasted only during the opening ceremony. After the discourse and the welcomes, the Beaux-Button company found their rooms and their schedule. A normal school schedule for which each exchange student Beaux-Batton and Drumstang would be mixed with their Hogwart counterparts. 

The young witch was excited to attend the potions class. 

They were taught by the famous Mr. Snape. Her excitement quickly transformed into fear as she attended her first class. The man was severe, to say the least. His dark features were perpetually frozen into a frown.

Diana was hiding behind her desk when he directed his contempt to some Drumstang boys a few rows in front. Turning her face, she saw her neighbor doing the exact same. Nervously laughing, she extended her hand; "I am Diana, nice to meet you.” 

The other girl's eyes met Diana’s." I am Parvati! Nice to meet you, and sorry that it is those circumstances.” 

“Is it always like this?” The Beaux-Bâton witch spoke again. 

“No usually, Mr. Snape is way more detached. I believe the increased teenage population put him on edge.” Diana chuckles at her new friend's sassy remark. Their little hidden conversation abruptly finished when both girls saw black dragon leather shoes in their vision. 

“Are we playing hide and seek? Are you both fourth year, or shall I bring you back to the first-year class?” 

The two witches stood from their hiding spot, and Diana noticed the professor's slightly dazzled look when he spotted her icy blond hair. 

“Mrs. Parvati, I will deduct 5 points for Gryffindor. And for you Miss?”

“Diana Randal!” She promptly added. “Sir, my classmate was merely enquiring about my well-being. I got weak, and she was helping me…” 

The stern professor cut her in an instant. “ Mrs Parvati, bring Mrs Randal to Mrs Ponfrey. Next time, I would appreciate your full attention during the class.”

Murmurs echoed in the classroom as Parvati led Diana to the infirmary. 

“Thank you for trying to save me !” The dark-haired witch beamed and reflected:” I never saw him that disturbed before, or maybe with Harry. Mr Snape might really hate teenagers.” 

Diana dismissed the remark, and the pair happily chit-chatted, forgetting to reach Mrs Pomfrey. 

Diana started to believe Fleur that “everything would go well.” Parvati introduced her to her twin sister. While Parvati was lively and talkative, sometimes a bit cheeky, Padma was calm and collected, but she was always there to listen and help. The twins were lovely company for Diana, and she felt that her year would not be that terrible in the end.

Chapter Text

The selection of the champions was completed. The school knew that Fleur Delacour would be representing Beaux-Baton, Victor Krum would represent Drumstag, Cedric Digory for Hogward, and Saint Potter. As the years passed, Draco hated the Gryfondor superstar more and more. He achieved to be included as the fourth champion of the wizarding tournament even if he was not of age.

To top it off, the boy who lived was allegedly going out with the annoying brown-haired girl from all his dreams. Draco was now fourteen and was very accustomed to intense wet dreams. The dreams were inhabited by Granger herself. He hated to admit it she was not suitable, but his hormone-filled brain could not help it. 

When the Daily Prophet published the article about the champions' love life, he was agitated all day. He blamed it on Potter and used the justification to hex first years. Little did he know that would be only a mere detail in the future as a much bigger storm formed. 
After the first task, in which Potter nearly finished grilled barbecue style in front of the audience, came the infamous Yule ball.

Draco could pride himself on being exempted from dance lessons as Mrs. Macgonal had judged his level sufficient. Among the several choices of girls, he selected Pansy to be his partner at the ball. The blond wizard hoped it would make his father proud and secretly hoped that Pansy could keep him company till the late hours of the night. He was not really interested in her. She was decently looking but had a terrible personality. The Slytherin girl was known to be petty and childish, but Draco could not fail again. He had to get this ball right. 

On the Yule evening, as a gentleman, he came to pick her up in front of the Slytherin dormitory. She looked great in a long emerald green shift dress with heavy makeup and impressive silver jewelry. Her heavy look contrasted with his plain white robes, which his mother sent him. 

“How do I look ?” She said while twirling. 

“You look ravishing,” he said with a slightly formal tone. To be very frank, he did not really care about her outfit or her make-up. 

They strolled toward the main hall. Draco could not ignore the stares of the other students, but it was not in their direction. He saw Saint Potter with one of the twins: Parvama or maybe Parmi. He never remembered their name. He also saw Weasley in the most ridiculous robe when he heard Pansy chucking.

“I am sure none of them could convince the bushy haired girl to go with them. I am sure she might be crying at the library.” Pansy venom was short-lived when the brightest witch of the age appeared in a dazzling periwinkle dress.  Her hair was pinned in an elegant updo, with some wild curls escaping. The dress was flowy yet fitting, the color making her eyes shine. He could not stop looking at her, and even more when this brute of Krum reached his hand toward her.

“Wow ! she landed the Bulgarian superstar. Either she is better in bed than I thought, or she is doing his homework.” Pansy said with disdain while dragging Draco to the dining hall. The school converted the hall into a winter wonderland-inspired scene. The enchanted ceiling was replicating the snowing weather from the outside. However, all Draco was thinking about was Granger in her fabulous dress. A mix of jealousy hit him in the face when the couple started waltzing. Draco had put himself in auto-pilot mode, completely forgetting his dance partner and staring without stopping at the girl in the periwinkle dress. Hermione was certainly laughing with Viktor and his terrible dance moves.  Her smile was constantly adorning her pretty face. What Draco found fascinating was her small hand cusping the Bulgarian arm. His eyes were burning. How could she be so happy,  when he was so miserable? He decided to remediate his growing hopelessness by doing what he was always doing: ruining the girl's night. Striding toward her, he was stopped mid-track, by her high-pitched voice: “....Maybe you are jealous that I am having fun tonight Ronald.” 

For the only time in his life, he felt thankful for the Weaselbee sense of the timing.  After her altercation with the ugly red hair, she departed the main hall with her bulky Bulgarian. Draco felt the need to follow them, maybe misplaced curiosity. His heart was beating so fast in his chest. Sneaking behind a pillar, he saw Hermione tiptoeing to kiss the Quidditch champion's cheek while hugging him fearlessly. Draco kept staring at the scene like a moth attracted to a flame. A fire started to burn within him, ravaging his interior: Jalousy! 

For the first time, he was not jealous of her but about the others being close to her.

Chapter Text

Diana did not want to attend the ball. She had made a couple of friends over the winter terms, but like all teenagers, she felt so self-conscious to be dancing in front of such a big crowd. Above all, she was also terrified by the idea of being picked by a random guy to go to the dance. At fourteen, the Arctic blonde was not really acquainted with boys. She mainly had women friends Beaux-Baton obliged. Talking about her friend, Fleur was overjoyed to go to the ball. The beautiful and bright witch had no trouble finding a date. 

“What would you wear?” she said to Diana, jogging to match her pace. 

“ Oww, you know I am not sure if I will attend. I do not have a dance partner, and I am terrified, to be honest with you.” The young witch said, staring at her feet. 

“ I will be your dance partner,” Fleur beamed brightly. 

“Dear, you cannot. You have this guy. André, no Alexander. I do not remember.” Diana tried to find a way out of this conversation, but the vela was stubborn. “I need to make a good impression, of course, I am a champion. However, as soon as the music starts, I will be in your arms mon amour.” She said, batting her lashes. 

“Oh my!” Diana scoffed. “You haven’t forgotten when we first met, didn't you? I am not in love anymore with you, as you are forcing me to socialize.” They both laughed. Diana was feeling a bit better. 

The first snow started to coat the Scottish countryside as Diana prepared for the ball. She had kept her icy hair loose and opted for a flowy burgundy silk dress. Fleur was ecstatic. She opened the ball with her dance partner Samuel (Diana had to ask 10 times to remember). 

The young witch was patiently waiting for her friend to finish her dance when her attention got caught by something moving next to the bar. She looked at Professor McGonagall slow dancing with a very annoyed Snape. Visibly, the bar was vulnerable. Approaching slowly, Diana thought she saw double: Two red-haired boys were visibly spiking the punch with god knows what liquor.

She cleared her throat loudly, “This is not the punch! This is the ice bucket dedicated to cooling the drinks down but go ahead. You both look very dedicated to the task.”

One of the twins turned abruptly to face her,” how long have we been visible?”

Diana replied sternly. “A good 20min Why?”

“You see George! It was a bad idea,” The first one said when his brother started to drag him away. 

“Mcgonagall incoming! Abort mission! Retreat !” Murmured the guy called Goerge. They started to retreat slowly, but instead of letting Diana on the side, they dragged her toward the exit. 

She could only stutter, “What…re.. doing?”

The unnamed twins whispered in her ear: "Go with the flow, please. By the way, I am Fred .” 

The weird trio exited the room promptly, successfully escaping from McGonagall, who had turned her attention to some third-year's behavior.

Exiting the main hall, both brothers started running toward the stairs still dragging Diana with them. While running, Fred shout at her: “Let’s go to a real party!” 

They dragged her into what seemed to be Gryffindor's common room. 

It looked like a cozy space when not packed with drunken students. 

“Welcome to our soirée, Mademoiselle….” Said George.

“Diana, I am Diana” She laughed nervously. 

She was still processing what was going on. 

“Butterbeer for the Beau-Batton Mademoiselle!” Fred pipped while placing a glass in her hand. “Cheers!” the crowd clamored. She could see Padma already sipping her beer and discussing it with some of their friends. 

 “Hey there!” The Gryffindor girl said while hugging her. “I can see that you met Gryffondor's other set of twins. Well, they are slightly more troublemakers than Parvati and I.”

Diana could not help laughing again, maybe it was the Gryffondor's hall or the bright energy of Fred and George that warmed her heart. In the end, she did not regret having joined the ball. 

The night extended itself till the early hours of the morning. Diana got to know Fred and Goerge a bit better. 

At four in the morning, perched on a window, the twins decided to smoke. (Diana had refused. she hated the smell of smoke) 

“So Mademoiselle,” added Fred, “How are you liking Hogwart so far?”

“Please call me Diana,” she said shyly. Diana was not accustomed to late-night discussions with boys. She felt out of place but enjoyed the twins' presence and happiness. 

“Diana!” said the other twin.“What an odd name!” 

“It is not,” said the girl fakely offended. “It is the Roman goddess of the moon. In Greek, she is called Artemis.” 

“You sound like Hermione!” Grunted Fred.

“Come on” Diana answered in a patronizing tone, “You asked, so I answer. Parvati told me that your grades in magic history were not that high, I am just helping. I am a good soul.”

She smirked. 

“A good soul indeed,” added Fred, laughing slightly.

“Now my turn, Gentleman. Would you care to explain to me the strategy behind your failed coup?”

“Well, Mrs Goddess of the Moon,” both said at the same time. “It is Jinx! brother!” Screamed euphorically, Fred.

 “No, it is not, Jinx on you!” reproached Goerge. 

The pair argued for a couple of minutes until George resumed. 

“Well, take a comfortable seat, a tea, and let me explain to you our Grand coup.”

She learned that Fred was the mastermind behind all their coup and Goerge was an operating agent. She could not stop laughing at their endless jokes. The morning ended in the vapor of Goerge cigarettes, and Diana felt at home for the first time since her arrival back in September. 

Chapter Text

The fourth year ended in a brutal and gruesome way. Draco had written to her about Cedric. How still he was, his beautiful features petrified in death. The young wizard was particularly affected by Cedric’s father's scream of agony. Draco detailed the horrified crowd and Potter’s shocked expression. The young wizard repeated, “He is back!” 

In his letter, her son asked if the dark lord had truly came back. She could not reply to him because she knew that he was back. Her blood ran cold. She was scared for her son and daughter, who she knew was studying abroad at Hogwarts. 

After Cédric’s tragic death, Hogward decided to offer emotional support as well as summoning the parents. Narcissa made sure to make an appointment with the Headmaster during school hours so she would not cross her son and daughter. Diana knew her by a different name. For the young witch, she was Aunt Cissa. 

Entering Dumbeldor's office felt odd. She knew him when he was only a teacher. The Headmaster was seated in front of a massive cherry tree desk. He greeted her with a genuine smile, which also felt odd.

“Narcissa, It has been a long time. How have you been faring?”

“Thank you for inquiring about it, Albus. I have been well, yet the latest news is occupying my thoughts.” She replied sincerely. 

“I can imagine, and I would like to apologize for the trouble it caused. Although, I have to confess that my intention was not to discuss the matter.” 

Narcissa searched the old wizard's face. Dumbledore has always been an enigma, and this time was no different. 

“Albus, respectfully, I am not sure which subject you wish to discuss with me.”

“You Daughter.” the powerful wizard replied nonchalantly. Mrs Malfoy felt the earth crumble below her feet. Nausea reached her mouth, and sweat pearled from her front. 

“What do you mean? I do not have a daughter.” She stammered. 

“Do not play your games with me Narcissa. Your secret is safe with me. Diana’s name was added to Hogwart's repository when she turned eleven. I have to admit, I was a bit surprised at first when I could not see her joining in the first year. I figured you were behind it.”

Narcisa was astounded at how the headmaster had seen through her. He was really the greatest wizard of the century. 

“Diana needs to stay safe, Albus. I hide her from the world for good reasons, and I intend it to remain this way. I would appreciate your discretion on the matter.”

“Certainly! However, in the light of the recent allegations, I believe Hogward would be a safer place for her than Beau-Baton.”

Narcisa scoffed in annoyance, “You cannot be serious, Albus. If the rumors are true, my daughter would be at the center of the storm. I refuse, Hogward is not safe for her.”

Dumblerdor marked a deep pause, “I am aware of her destiny. I can assure you that she would be safe under our care at Hogwarts. If it would ease your mind, I am willing to take an unbreakable vow.” 

Seeing the Headmaster that determined, Narcissa could not help asking. “It will, but why Hogwart?”

“This place is old; some say that Merlin himself selected the place as an early place of settlement for wizards. The wards are the strongest in Europe. Diana will be safe here.”

“She cannot quit Beau-Baton in that manner,” Narcissa thought aloud. 

“She will transfer here under our Potion scholarship, as she is already a brilliant student. It might take a bit of time to convince the French ministry for the transfer. I recall them slow toward administrative work.” He chuckled while eating a chocolate frog. “We will be able to host her in a year from now, for the start of her sixth year.”

“Right,” Narcissa commented dryly. She had no choice. As usual with her, she needed to take a decision quickly following her gut, she added: 

“Then let’s proceed for the unbreakable vow.” 

She was not sure it was the best decision. However, having the wisest wizard of his time agree to an unbreakable vow with her comforted her in her choice. 

Now laughing openly, the Headmaster remarked, “You will never stop to surprise me Narcissa. I recall you as a young girl. Your priorities were clear from the start, and how you maneuver in the dark keeps me in awe!”  

Chapter Text

When year six came, Diana was a bit different. When she reached France after her year abroad at Hogwart, she received a strange letter from the British school. Her astounding skills in potions lent her a selective apprenticeship with the best teachers in the British institution. The formalities would take a year, but she would be ready to attend Hogwarts for her last three years of education and pass the prestigious NEWT there. 

At first, the young witch was skeptical; she made friends at Hogwarts, and she started liking the place, but this move would determine her future career. She wrote to Fleur, who was interning at Gringotts. The Vela encouraged her to press for the opportunity. Firstly, Hogwart was THE best wizarding school in the world, and secondly, they would reunite on British soil. The beautiful Fleur fell head over heels for one of the Weasley brothers, Bill. She had received the information over the summer, not by Fleur, but by Fred and George, who had taken the habit of writing to her. They had grown closer after the Yule ball party and regularly met for butterbeer or sweets. She had also deepened her relationship with Parvati and Padma. When she wrote to them that she would potentially attend Hogwarts in the sixth year, the twins sent her a Gryffindor scarf with a note: “We are waiting for you.”

All those reasons finally helped her to decide, and on an early summer morning, she was waiting in front of Dumblerdor’s office.

As a privilege for joining in the sixth year, the blond had the exclusive rights of a private session with the sorting hat. The young witch knew where her destiny lay. She had consulted with Fleur over the summer, and her friends had recommended she aim for Gryffindor. In addition, she knew that Fred and George were from Gryffindor. Although the twins had finished their studies, she knew from the Yule party in the fourth year that Griffondor was a great house. She also wrote to Aunt Cissa, whom she knew had studied at Hogwarts. However, the noble witch was not keen on giving her details, and she politely avoided Diana’s questions in all her letters. 

A loud guttural noise interrupted her from her train of thought. She had forgotten that she was in Dumbeldor's office. 

The sorting hat was talking to her. “I see, a bit lost in your thought, missy. You are a cunning young miss but too shy to align your scheme. Slytherin would be a great house to help you develop your skills.”

Panicked, she murmured to the hat, “I want to be in Gryffindor! I have friends there already.”

The hat replied.“I see! You are attached to your friends! Is it a true feeling or are you just scared to be alone?”

Her pannick transformed into impatience. The bloody hat was taking pleasure in torturing her, maybe because of their private session. “Fine!” she exhaled in annoyance, “I am a teenager, coming from another country, I am a socially awkward person, so I would love to be in a familiar place surrounded by friends.” 

“I see,” said the hat, “then I would ask you one last question. In times of peril, what is the most important glory or survival?” 

Without hesitating, she replied to the annoying question. “Survival, and hopefully survival of my loved ones.” 

The hat laughed “Well! You would be a weird Gryffindor, but GRYFFINDOR.” he proclaimed. 

Dumbledore was scribbling something on his desk, and without looking at her, he said, “I see that this old sorting hat had some trouble with you.”

The young witch looked in his direction, "we had an interesting discussion, but I am happy with my new house.”

“Gryffindor.” enunciated the Headmaster “Intriguing choice for you, Miss Randal! Your books will wait for you in the dorm room. Mrs Granger, the prefect, would guide you during your first days. Welcome to Hogwarts!” 

Diana was excited about the challenges ahead, little did she know that the road ahead would be a winding path. 

Chapter Text

Draco had spent the most horrific summer of his life. He thought that Cedric's death would be the most traumatic event of his teenage years, but he was so far from the truth. As soon as the Dark Lord came back, the Death Eater militia started to organize again.

The denial of the ministry helped the creation of a dense network of sympathizers. Draco’s dad, Lucius, was one of the most esteemed members, stirring the Dark Lord’s strategy in the heart of the ministry. In addition, his crazy aunt, Bella, escaped Azkaban during a grand coup organized by Voldemort's henchmen. Draco's house was now rooming with strange people: murderers, criminals, rare animal smugglers, rapists, and sociopaths from all corners of the earth. He tried to stay locked in his room, hidden away from that grotesque crowd. His mom had begged Lucius to take him to France with her, but the Malfoy patriarch had refused categorically. Draco heard his mom cry, “My dear, I implore you on my knees! He is a child! We cannot let this happen…” A silencing spell cut her pleads. When she emerged from the room, her eyes injected with blood and her face distorted in a forced smile, she reached out to him to pet his hair tenderly. 

“My dearest, I am so sorry if you heard us. Everything is fine.” His mother forced a smile. “Do you remember your occlumency lessons with Mr Snape?” 

“Of course, Mother.” He said in a tone that betrayed his distress. 

“You will need it, my love.”She concluded. He did not know what to expect, but the summer between the fifth and sixth years became his personal burning hell. 

On a stormy morning, he was woken up by his aunt. She was screaming some nonsense, dragging him across the castle. Draco had learned that we should not resist her, as when he did, he was rewarded with some sick torture. Cruciatus spells, poisoned dagger, and invasive mind games had left countless scars in his frail body and mind. However, that day was different from the others. In the wee hours of the day, the air was cold, and a weird dampness accompanied it. Bellatrix was dragging him into the wood behind his castle. He knew the area as we had played there as young kids. However, he did not recognize the place. The forest looked sick. In the middle of the summer, the trees were left bare without a single leaf, and the grass looked more like dirt than anything. 

A crowd of masked death eaters gathered in the middle of the clearing. Bella threw him on the floor between them, and he landed on the feet of a strange man. He was not wearing a mask, and he glanced at Draco with some small reptile eyes.

“I can see Lucius that your kid takes after you. He looks as much of a coward as his dad. How fascinating?” The man laughed hysterically, and the rest of the crowd soon joined him.

“My lord…” a small voice said. Draco knew it was his dad.

“Enough! Lucius!” Aggressively cut DarkLord. “My dearest Bella, did you bring our amusement for the night?” Draco started to panic. Was he the amusement? His fears were confirmed when his aunt dragged him back to his feet. 

“Bring the Mudblood!” Bella shouted. A pit in his stomach formed. He thought about the annoying Griffondor that was occupying all his thoughts. On a whim, he blocked his thoughts of her, his fear for her, and all his feelings for her. When a brunette woman appeared, his heart beat so fast in his chest. He realized with relief that the woman was not Granger. She was shorter, her hair straight, and her skin was white as the snow.

“Today, by blood, my dear Draco, you would tie your destiny to ours. You will be the vessel of Dumbledore's downfall. Shall you fail, the consequence will be dire. Now complete the vow and embrace the darkness.” the Dark Lord recited solemnly. 

“Kill her! Kill her!” chanted his aunt. Draco did not remember anything after this point.

The rest of the night went in a blur. He heard the young woman plead for her life, but a fire was burning in his soul. He felt the blood running on his hands and his mouth. The blood was not his. Draco saw the life leaving the girl’s frail body leaving only an empty corpse. He felt so hollow.

Some painted images were dancing in his eyes, but he could no longer see or feel.His soul would be forever stained by the atrocious murder he committed. He was only sixteen and already an assassin. A deep feeling started routing in him. He should be proud of becoming the Dark Lord's youngest servant, but an uneasiness installed itself within his bones. He was not worthy anymore. He was a criminal, and his heart was as black as the eyes of Voldemort. For the rest of the summer, he heard her scream. In his dream, he was killing Granger: Her eyes were full of tears, and her lips were full of blood. Dark magic was contaminating his tissue and mind, and his body was only an eerie vessel of shadows.

He hated himself, even more than before. He was no longer a failure by his father's standards, but he did not understand why his heart was so hollow. 

Chapter Text

Hermione started her sixth year on a packed schedule. The Dark Lord was back, and everyone knew it. She had to care for Harry and help him uncover the truth about defeating the dark wizard. This year, she was also Prefect responsible for a new sixth year called Diana Randal. The discrepancy between her two main tasks made her laugh. On one side, she had to help her best friend save the world. On the other, she had to do orientation work for new students. The latter had proven more complicated. Her role as a prefect was exhausting. She had to mother the first years, and chase the fourth years, who started fooling around in corridors late at night. The easiest part of her prefect work was guiding around the new Beau-Batton transfer: Diana. 

The witch was pleasant. Their conversation around potions was lovely, and Diana was a great library friend. Since the start of the class, both witches often crossed paths there. Diana seemed to appreciate its calm.  The new transfer student and Hermione shared some silent moments studying together. In the beginning, Hermione did not notice the blond witch, but one day, during a very exhausting session, Diana offered her some calming tea, which worked wonderfully. From that day, once the two shared intense working sessions, they often brought tea to share. 

During one of those occurrences, Diana asked: 

“How have you been lately?” looking a bit confused, Hermione looked at her library companion. Diana was looking at her, waiting to receive an answer. No one had asked in a long time to Hermione: "How has she been?" Everyone expected her to be ok, and she never thought about having to answer this question. 

“I am ok. I am just tired from all the pressure from school. I guess.”

“I can imagine,” said the blond. “ also war seems to be upon us, and we are so young to live that. It is unfair!” Hermione saw fear in Diana’s eyes. 

“Why did you accept to study at Hogwarts? The Dark Lord is in the UK, so it is not necessarily a good choice.” Added Hermione, surprised by her bluntness. 

“I will not stop my own life for a war.” Diana smiled shyly "As per what my parents told me before I left, it seems that this castle has the strongest ward in Europe. I am still scared. Very scared. I will not lie to you, I am not sleeping well at night. However, we should carry on and try to protect our future.” 

Hermione reflected on her fellow Gryffindor's comment. She seems resigned and scared, but within her, a strong will to live seems to be burning. She was in the right house, Hermione thought.

Outside of the library meeting, the two girls attended the same potion-making class. Professor Slughorn, their new professor, seems to be at least less cruel than Professor Snape. Hermione lamented the loss of Snape as a potion master, as his knowledge was legendary. However, she quickly started to like Slughorn. The ancient wizard loved showing off to his students, so most of the potions they learned were dangerous and intriguing. 

During one of their first classes, the professor let them smell Amortentia. Hermione was confused when, among her beloved parchment smell, she distinguished peppermint. Her torment was only starting. The professor pulled out from his sleeves a vial of liquid luck and set a challenge. The first student to produce a perfect living Death Draught would win the vial and the teacher's admiration. She did not consider herself a “know-it-all”, as her classmates liked to call her. She was a fierce competitor in the academic realm. Why could Quidditch players call themself competitors, and she could not call herself a competitor in academics? 

The challenge started. The Draught was complicated to brew as the timing was crucial. In a weak moment, the young witch turned to her classmate. Diana was frowning, her icy blond hair hastily tied into a messy bun. As usual, Ron looked a bit lost, his cheeks slightly red. In front of her, and to her great surprise, Harry seemed relaxed. Looking at his workstation, she noticed that he was not following the receipt. 

“Harry, the school manual is saying that you should crush the ingredients,” she added in an annoyed tone. “My book is saying that I should squeeze it. It is not all about the rules! Hermione!” He teased. She wanted to push his face to his cauldron, but she was too busy with her mixture.

She stirred and stirred, but the mix was slimy and smelled like rotten eggs. Hermione was so appalled because she could not stand losing. Losing meant questioning her title as the brightest witch of her year.

 Her hopes shattered completely when the professor stopped to inspect her mix. “Mrs Granger, I heard you could do better than this. It is the same for you, Mr Malfoy, and Mrs Randal." Hermione did not look at the others. She was too ashamed. 

Her cheeks were flushed in annoyance when the last stroke broke her spirit. “Ah, Mr Potter!” pipped the Potion master “What wonderful work you did! I think we have a winner.” Hermione gritted her teeth, she wanted to hex her best friend. When he winked at her, that was her clue. She stormed out of the classroom to cool down her annoyance as the class had consumed her last bit of patience. What an awful day. 

Chapter Text

Draco had started his semester in an awful banality. It felt so strange going back to class after the summer. His arm was burning from the freshly tattooed skin, and his head was still full of the screams from that night. However, the year started as usual: the Welcome ceremony for the new kids and the same long and useless discourse about unity. This year's special was “Voldemort did not come back.” What a horrendous lie! If those young kids had seen what he had seen, they would have cried in their mothers' skirts. 

The blond wizard felt that every day, his heart was hardening in his chest. He had to occlude his feelings, his fears, and complete his mission. 

Almost mechanically, he attended his classes, and even the potion class, his favorite, felt dull. 

This year, Snape was replaced by Slughorn. Slughorn was a renowned potion master, but his style was questionable. In a true Slytherin fashion, he favored the best students and completely abandoned less gifted students to their fate.

He hosted the unfamous “Slughorn Club” reserved for all the future stars of the wizarding world. 

Above all, Slughorn was more lenient in teaching borderline legal potions. 

For instance, the first class topic was all about Amortentia. A very questionable potion that all young witches revered as the “True love potion”. In reality, none of them knew that his potion was merely highlighting an obsession and intensifying it. What a bunch of brainless dumbasses. 

Overall he had his fair share of fooling around with girls over the years. Pansy was his principal source of entertainment, or maybe he was her source of entertainment. He was not sure. This year, Draco refrained from meeting with his usual late-night dates as duty was more important than amusement. In addition,  he always found girls dull. Outside of being a nice way to relieve his stress, he did not engage in relationships with them. He was even more re-ensured of his conviction when he saw the girls act so frivolously for such a dumb potion. 

Draco realized that he was staring into the void. His cauldron was full of the death draught, which started to solidify like a rock. What bad news, he was out of the shitty competition the old professor had put in place. When the man had announced the price of obtaining the “liquid luck potion”, Draco felt his interest rising again. He could win it to fulfill his mission in the best way. It would have been a perfect plan. He had to win it, but he knew that death draught was not an easy task. He tried his best as a brilliant potion student; it shouldn't have been a problem for him. What had he dissociated at that exact moment?

His shame washed his features, and above all, he was pissed. The winner was beaming. It was none other than Saint Potter. He was whispering something to Hermione. She looked as annoyed as Draco, and after Potter whispered, she stormed out of the classroom. 

The young Slytherin saw an opportunity. She would be alone outside of the classroom, and he needed to evacuate his stress. She was the perfect victim of one of his famous tantrums.

Everything happened very fast. He swiftly left his desk after the teacher dismissed them and followed her on the first floor's damp corridors. She had a sour expression on her face and,  her hair was out of control. Draco prepared his composed expression and his best smirk. 

“How come the Great Granger is running away with her tail between her legs?” 

Without waiting for her reply, he continued, “Is it Maybe because she failed to prepare such an easy potion.” 

He sneered looking at the bitterness in her eyes. She was about to reply when a flash of platinum blond blinded him and a melodious voice called: “Hermione! Wait ! You forgot your book.”

Draco analyzed the voice. It was unlike the only platinum blonde he knew, AKA Luna. This voice was firm with a slight drawl. He already hated its proprietor for interrupting him.

When he turned his gaze, he was surprised to see an arctic blond witch with the most annoying grey stare. To top it off, she was dressed in an ill-fitted Grifondor uniform. Irritated, Draco needed to dismiss the new intruder. “I can see that you have a new friend Hermione. Is she as Dumb as all the others? Where did you find her in the trash?”

Hermione ire was now visible. Maybe this time, he would receive a push in his face or a slap. He was so looking forward to it. However, his disappointment was intense when the blond insect came into his view. Those annoying grey eyes!

“Who are you?” 

She added in a nonchalant tone. How can she not know him? He was the Slytherin Prince, the Malfoy heir, and a Brilliant Student. He was about to reply with a disrespectful comment, but the girl spoke again. 

“You know what, dear, later. I have a class to attend.” 

She turned to Hermione, who was still drowning in her bitterness “Let’s go! We shall not be late.” As easy as that she turned, grabbing Hermione by the elbow, and disappeared in the school corridors. 

What just happened? That vile Griffondor did not know who he was, cut him while calling him dear, and ran away with his stress reliever. 

When he got back to his room, he let his anger overflow. He crashed his whole room imagining that the furniture was Hermione and the Ugly grey-eyed girl. He had to find who she was and avenge himself. No one was allowed to treat him that way! 

Chapter Text

Hermione followed Diana up in the corridors. She was not really sure of what had just happened. Her emotions were still all over the place: Her failing a class assignment, the Draco Malfoy ferret harassing her again, and Diana’s bizarre rescue. 

Thinking about it, Diana had pulled the rug out from under Draco at an off-putting speed. How can the blond witch not be affected by Draco's Harsh words? 

Hermione was overthinking again. Her brain was restless, and on top of that feeling, she felt annoyed. The bright witch grew closer to Diana over the weeks, but Hermione did not like that her fellow Griffondor felt the need to defend her. She saved the day various times, and by all means, she was not a damsel in distress. 

 Diana was walking in silence in front of her. She did not seem affected by the altercation. Curious and in the search for an answer, Hermione asked.

“You did not have to protect me that way. Why did you do this?” 

Diana turned toward her with a blank expression. 

“Defending you? I might have done it, but it was not fully intentional. I mainly wanted to go to the next class with my friend. This punk seems to be annoying you, so I just stated the obvious.”

Hermione was still mad, but Diana's nonchalance smoothed her nerves. 

“I see, but please know I do not need a knight to defend myself against this guy.”

Diana smiled and added, “This jerk, you mean?”  

“Yes!” the brightest witch laughed “To be frank, he has been like that all this life. I mean, since I know him. Did you know that one day, he got transformed into a ferret? I also punched him in the face. Great memories !”

“You punched him in the face?” the arctic blond witch pipped surprised

“Yes, he was bullying me once again for some obscure reasons. He bullied me and my friends all our lives.” Draco has been a pain, ever since the first year. He made consistently Hermione's life impossible, always there to push her down or remind her of her dirty blood status. 

“Ok. What a lovely gentleman!” her friend said with an ironic tone.

 “I am glad we did not have time to get acquainted. I will make sure not to get acquainted with him in the future. I do not have time for bullies. I endured too much as a magical kid in a muggle school.” 

Diana grew silent. Hermione knew too well what that silence meant. She had been bullied by Draco and his clique for so many years now. She knew how draining it was. 

She was more confident now, and Harry and Ron were always there to support her, but she recalled the days she had to hide in the hallway not to cross him or anyone from the Slytherin house. The fear she felt when he approached her to throw poison at her face: The laugh of everyone around and the overarching feeling of loneliness. She could only empathize with the French witch. 

“He is a pain and not worth to be known. But, you have me now, and I know you are also friends with Parvati and Padma, so do not trouble yourself too much.” 

“I will not, no worries. All those years, you know Fleur trained me. She seems calm and noble, but she has a feisty personality. Some days, Fleur scares me to be very frank. I used to be a very shy little bird, but she taught me to stand up for myself. She is an amazing friend.”

Hermione smiled, Diana's friendship with Fleur was as strong as hers with Ron and Harry. 

Thinking of her friends washed away her morning anger. Once the two girls entered their next class, Arithmancy, Hermione was back to her normal self. 

_________________________________________________________________________

Later that week, the anticipated Gryffindor VS Slytherin derby took place in Hogwarts Quidditch stadium. At the beginning of autumn, the air was freezing and the fog veiled the mountains in a melancholy shroud. Hermione did not want to attend the match.

She would be better off with a tea reading in the library. However, the peer pressure was intense. She had engraved in her brain Harry puppies eyes when he asked her to attend. Ron had also requested her to attend, telling her to cheer for him.

She could not admit it to herself, but all those years, she had a growing crush on the red hair. He looked awkward and had a bad temper, but he was also fiercely loyal and a kind friend. He also saved her countless times not hesitating to put his life on the line to protect her. He was like those literary heroes who started as an outcast, saved the day, and got the girl. She thought, did she want to be that girl? A trophy rather than an equal partner? 

She was overthinking again. Gosh, she hated it! She knew that her brain would not stop until she focused on something else. 

All squeezed on the Gryffindor stand, Hermione was looking for Harry and Ron on the field. 

Next to her, Neville was eating what resembled popcorn. Luna, although Ravenclaw had come to cheer for Gryffindor. Diana was seated further away, bundled between Parvati and Padma, laughing at the Slytherin keeper who received the Quaffle in the face.

She also noted the ferret on the fields. She knew something was going on with him as his annoying self seemed off. He had a dark circles under his eyes, and he did not bully her as intensely as he used to. 

During this match, the Slytherin seeker seems to be only looking at Diana. How odd!

His stormy grey eyes glared at the blond witch. Hermione did not have to be the brightest witch of her age to know he held a grudge against her friend. Diana did not seem to care or at least was completely ignoring him. 

Draco's lack of attention gave the chance to the Gryffindor team to launch their offensive. 

Ron as the team keeper, seems to be leading the dance. Hermione had attended countless matches but still refused to understand that stupid game. When Ron beamed with pride, she understood that Griffondor had won. The Slytherin team left the field promptly amid their defeat. Hermione couldn't stop thinking about how Draco looked at Diana. She felt concern for her friend and hoped the ferret would not torment her. Looking at the field, Ron and the team were still celebrating. This excitement foreshadowed the long night of festivity Hermoine would have to attend. She could say goodbye for good for the tea and her book. 

Chapter Text

Diana had sat for the Quidditch game sandwiched between Padma and Parvati. Since the girls meeting during the fourth-year exchange, the trio had developed a nice dynamic. Diana liked the cheerful Parvati and the calm yet sweet Padma. They had a lot of fun during the match, laughing at the keeper and gossiping about the teams. Diana also saw Hermione seated close to them. Her expression was oscillating between gloomy and extra bored. Nonetheless, the blond witch waved cheerfully at her friend, who waved back with a forced smile. Diana was not passionate about Quidditch, to say the least, but with good company and snacks, the terribly damp Scottish weather was acceptable. 

She had asked Neville, one of the Gryffindor boys, to share some of his snacks with her. 

Next to them was also sitting Luna, whose hair was so close in color to hers. 

“I am happy to see someone with the same hair color as me. We could pass for twins.” Diana launched cheerfully at Luna in the middle of a gossip conversation she was having with Padma.

“Indeed,” said the Ravenclaw witch. “ I very much like your hair. It looks like fresh snow.”

It was an unusual response, but Diana liked her honesty. 

“By the way, Diana, any explanation why Malfoy is looking at you with such a strong intensity?” Playfully added Parvati. 

Diana saw Malfoy looking at her with the scariest death stare she had ever seen. Frankly, she did not care. She vowed to avoid him, and she intended to keep her promises. If he wanted to stare at her, then good for him. She wanted out of such childish behavior. 

“I saw! He is bitter because I did not recognize his majesty when we first got acquainted.”

She sighed. 

“How could you not recognize him?” Said Luna in a surprised tone. Diana thought it was ironic at first. She would later understand that Luna was not a fan of irony. 

 After laughing together, the girls changed the conversation to discuss Ron's probable romantic endeavor with Lavender. Still, Diana could not put a finger on the weird feeling Luna’s comment had on her. 

—------------------

To the delight of the Gryffindor House, Ron, Harry, Ginny, and the team had won the match. This victory ignited the Gryffindor's fiery spirit, and everyone was ready to celebrate the victory. 

When Diana reached the common room, Ron was already suspiciously red as if the butterbeers were actually Oden. 

Diana was not born yesterday. This party would have everyone drunk in the next 30 min at best. 

Looking for familiar faces, Diana saw that Parvatil was busy flirting with Seamus, which was odd, but both were already pretty drunk. Padma had left for her beauty sleep. Judging by Ron aggressively snogging Lavender, she also guessed that Hermione would have left horrified. 

Feeling desperate, Diana sat in a small corner far from the drunken crowd but close enough to see the situation unfolding in front of her eyes. 

She did not want to go to sleep. It was her first official common room party (not counting the one she got dragged into in her fourth year) Yet she felt a bit lonely not knowing how to approach new people. 

She was nearly dying of despair when someone tapped on her shoulder. 

“Well Hello, dear goddess of the moon!” Without turning, she knew it was either Fred or Goerge. Since her meeting with the twins during the fourth year, the two kept calling her the goddess of the moon. She had more opportunity to see them as Fleur was infatuated with Bill, one of their brothers. 

“Which one am I talking to?” She responded playfully 

“Madam, you wound me! not recognizing my fabulous self.” The Weasly boy said.  

“George, You are Geroge.”She finally said.

“Ding Ding. Hundred points for Gryffindor.” He replied while sitting next to her. 

“What brings you here? I thought you left the school to pursue a professional endeavor.”

“I did, indeed. However,” George said, pointing to his brother. “This young fella is taken with a certain Quidditch player: Angelina. We sneaked in a couple of hours ago. Did you know there are some secret getaways from Hogsmeade?”

“So you are here for love?” Diana replied pleasantly

“I am, and I also missed the fun of Gryffindor parties. Although I have to say, I just saw Ron snogging with this blond girl, and I am a bit appalled. I do not want to see that spectacle.” He added in a falsy disgusted tone. 

“Come on! Cut him some slack. He looks like having fun.” She smiled, although she thought that as she was being sober, the whole drunk flirty felt a bit awkward to her. 

“He does,” George remarked. "All of them are having fun. They are all bloody drunk.”

“You are not partaking in flirting with some people?” She launched abruptly, which she regretted almost immediately. 

“No. To be frank, I would rather stay as a spectator and tell people tomorrow morning how dumb they acted.” A comfortable silence fell between the two. Diana really liked the twins' company. Although they were equals in looks, Fred was more outgoing than George, and George was more composed. Just like Padma and Parvati, she thought. George was sweet and funny but could look more wary of others. She would say that her few moments with George always had been pleasant. He also had a certain melancholy that interested the girl. She felt close to him because she also had a certain longing. Being an adopted kid was not always easy. She loved her parents, but she knew deep down that her biological parents, for whatever reason, had decided to let her go. Someday, she felt melancholic about how things could have been if those hypothetical people had cherished her like their daughter. She feared to be let go and clung to her friends like glue. Fleur knew it and had insured her over one of their late-night talks that she would never let go. Diana trusted her friend with all of her heart, but she knew deep down that nothing was written in the stone. She had left her thoughts running wild, and her stomach slowly dropped with worry when George talked again. 

“What is happening in your head?” he said in a light tone, but his eyes had a cloud of worry. 

“Nothing, nothing.” Diana brushed it off. 

“I think I am just tired. I also get homesick sometimes, and I miss my adoptive parents.” She realized that she had referred to her parents as adoptive. She now felt wary of explaining to the Weasley twin. She felt surprised when he did not ask.

“I do sometimes.” He confessed. “I mean, I do feel homesick. Weirdly, I am not homesick from the Burrow where my family is. I would feel homesick of a place I do not know. It is odd, is it?” 

“It’s not.” Diana added, “I understand. Have you found that place?” 

George took a couple of seconds to think before adding: “ I am not sure. I feel at home when I am with Fred.” He took a couple of additional seconds and then argued: “Ok it sounds a bit creepy, but he is my other half. Don’t get me wrong. Sometimes, I would love him to be less him. You know what I mean.” Diana chuckled at that as she knew Fred to be a very intense person. 

“However, he is my comfort zone and the person I can call home.” 

Diana felt grateful to have such a moment with George. She felt that he often presented his funny self to others, but never his serious and sentimental self. The blond witch took it as a gift and she felt honored that someone could open up to her.

“That's wonderful,” she breathed. “I wish I could have experienced that” She paused. “Someone to call home.”

“You will,” he said while grabbing her hands. It was an unusually bold move. His eyes gazed at her with an unusual glow. All of a sudden, she felt warmth spreading in her body and her cheeks becoming red. Her heart was rising as the moment seemed stuck in time. 

However, as fast as it came, the red-haired boy added: “Or I will lend you my home AKA Fred. He can be exhausting and frankly completely crazy.”

Still, a bit affected, Diana laughed, but more as a polite automatism. 

George and Diana spent the rest of the night sipping on butter beer chatting about life, and occasionally gossiping about other people. The night ended around 6 am when the fire had died down in the hearth. She kissed goodbye (on the cheeks) to her night companion as he carried a  sleeping/drunk Fred in the Hogwarts corridors to their secret passage to the exterior. Tired but Happy, Diana gazed at the sunrise from her window, storing the memories of that night and the feeling of her beating heart. 

Chapter Text

After the defeat, Draco changed himself rapidly to attend his second mission. The second mission was: “Acting as Voldemort's minion, finding a way to breach Hogwart security and additionally killing the strongest wizard of the century.”

Draco thought to himself, it was such a great mission, and above all very easy. He would be home for summer holidays to share teas and useless ceremonies with his mama. Sighing , he straightened his shirt. Since that dreadful summer, he was only dressing in a shirt and suit. It was not for style but rather to conceal the dark stain on his arm. Being a minion was okay, but staining his arm with such a horrible tattoo was annoying the young boy. 

He realized that he was automatically walking toward the room of requirements to take care of the bloody cabinet. As Hogwart wards were too strong for a full-blown invasion, the Dark lord found an ingenious way to breach the castle defenses. 

Repairing the old vanishing cabinet would allow the death eater to use its twin in Borgin and Brukes as a gateway. However, for the time being, the young Slytherin was not efficient. The pressure was immense on him. He received letters every day from his parents and his aunt. He slept a little, plagued by nightmares from the last. He barely ate as the food tasted like dust. Most of his night, he roomed in the castles like a ghost: aimless and restless. 

It was one of those nights that he heard her.  

He walked back from the room of requirements on the same night of the match. He was strolling in one of the most secluded corners of the castles when he heard a strangulated noise.

At first, he got scared that someone was following him. Moaning Myrtle could not be in that part of the castle. As he was getting closer, he realized that they were sobs.

Someone used that abandoned part of the castle as an emotional release place. Why not?

He nearly envied them. However, he quickly realized that the sobs were emitted by someone he knew: Granger. Granger, herself! 

He was struck to see her curled on the stairs. Her hair messier than ever, and her face reddened by an intense crying session. After taking the mark, he had forbidden himself to talk to her, or even think of her. Even if he hated her so much, he did not want her assassinated by the Dark Lord. She was a filthy mudblood, but she didn’t deserve to die. 

 Granger took a couple of seconds to register his presence. When she did, she hastily dried her eyes with her jumper. Sniffing loudly, she said “Go away Malfoy!” 

He should not have replied, but it was too tempting. “I will Mudblood, I do not want to disturb your self pity session.” 

She burst in the scariest nervous laugh

“Why are you always like that, Malfoy? What did I do to make it worth spending your precious time? Can you hate me in peace on your side?” His ego was boosted by that outburst. Draco felt his heart pulse in his ears. What a perfect occasion to destroy the indestructible Granger. He was full of self-containment when he answered: “My poor Granger, I enjoy tormenting you because I would love to see your eyes full of tears. Reminding you: How inferior you are! How filthy! How inutile! You are a perfect failure.”It felt so well. He was exhilarated. Maybe Draco would win over Hermione for once. He will not fail with her. He was about to strike again with worse comments when she raised her honey-brown eyes to face him. He did not expect what she would say next.

“You are a failure!” She spat. “You are a failure!  because all those years, you never got under my skin.” It was so unusual for her to react like this when Draco thought his ire would be his first answer, but he was stunned. She looked like a wounded animal, her hair in a puffy mess and her pupils completely dilated. She added with contempt: “ Where are you now? You have friends that are more like minions. Your daddy pays for everything you want, yet you never succeed in getting my tears. Those tears were caused by the very boy you called a loser.”

It was so unusual for her to react that violently, and her rawness ignited within him a deep anger. Her mentioning the Weasley boy, comparing him to his person, and making him win hurt his ego. He tasted blood in his mouth for having bited his cheeks violently.  He abruptly rushed to her, cornering her between the stairs and the wall. 

“I can start to make you cry! You will forget that tosser and cry for real.”

He was enraged when the brown-haired girl approached him a mere inch of his face. 

“I dare you !” She launched. All her sadness evaporated from her features. Draco was consumed in anger, but at the same time, a strange feeling ignited. He had lusted over for years. His hormones are not letting him sleep. However, at that exact moment, it was not lust nor anger that drove his steps. She was challenging him, and he loved challenges. All this years, to make her cry, but now a more perverse plan was blooming in his mind. He would break his heart, crush it until she could not feel anything. He did not care about blood status anymore. He wanted to tackle her challenge and, for once in his life, succeed. Very slowly, he brushed her lips with his finger. He saw her pupils dilating with stupor and her eyelashes fluting, but she did not move. She held his gaze without fear. Her lips were dry, by her crying. Even more slowly, he approached his face from her, in the same fashion as she had done minutes ago.

He felt numb when his lips touched hers. They were cold. He expected the girl to push him away and curse him for trespassing. Unexpectedly, after hesitating for a couple of seconds, she leaned on him. To his surprise, she deepened the kiss, reaching through his hair. Draco realized that the numbness was washed away by an intense lust. He had kissed many girls before, but none of them had occupied his dream like her. He matched her intensity. He felt her anger mixed with sadness in this kiss. She was telling him: “You want to play it like this? I am not surrendering!”

When they both reached for air, Draco was stunned. His hair was falling on his face hiding his burning eyes, and her cheeks were flushed. It took her a couple of seconds to regain her composure before rushing down the corridors. Draco stayed a couple of seconds in place. The cold air in this part of the castle did not calm down the heat that was burning his cheeks; he had kissed her, and she had kissed him.

It was already a complicated period for him, and because of his foolishness, he would be digging his grave even deeper. 

Chapter Text

They had kissed! When the blond Slytherin boy touched her lips, the surprise was quickly replaced by delightful bliss. When Ron kissed Lavender, in the Gryffindor common room, her heart stung painfully.

During all those years, she held Ron close to her heart. She had it very clear that Harry was like a brother to her. They both grew up in the muggle world. He understood her so well, but she never got a spark for him. On the contrary, Ron was not entirely her friend, and over the years, her crush grew stronger. They bickered like an old couple and shared a deep connection.

When Hermione got petrified in her second year, he diligently waited for her, next to the hospital bed.  They shared countless holidays, and the red-haired boy had always protected her. Ron was her first love. 

However, kissing Malfoy was different, and it got all her thoughts mixed up. The intensity she felt was exhilarating. She should have hated him for all the years he tormented her, but she could not help it: her heart was beating so fast.

After the kiss, she had escaped cowardly in the corridors. Her cheeks were crimson, her lips still feeling the intensity, and her hair in dire state.  

She ran directly to her room, making sure to avoid the Gryffindor party that was still going on.

Hidden in her four posters, she hardly slept that night. 

Her mind was racing with all kinds of thoughts. The few minutes of sleep she would get were filled with disturbing dreams. 

The next day, she attended the traditional breakfast with dark circles under her eyes. 

“Jez, someone seems to have had a good night of sleep,” Ginny aid in an ironic tone.

Ron, who was sitting next to his sister, had a small embarrassed laugh before saying: “Indeed.” 

It was followed by Ginny glaring at him. “I was not talking to you. I know too well that you had a good night, you moron. I was talking to Mrs Granger.” She purred, looking at her friend. 

“Do not get your hopes too high. I studied until late,” Hermione said,  looking at her toast. Ginny was a skilled negotiator. She knew that her gaze would betray what had happened that night. 

Diana, sitting next to Gini, added: “I was not there to give you my precious sleeping tea. You would have had a better night.”

“Do you have any other kind of tea?” Ginny launched with enthusiasm. “Like, you know, for those types of things.” 

“Which type of things?” Diana asked blankly. Hermione was relieved that the stoplight had left her. Ginny continued to grill Diana on her tea-making abilities, which distracted Hermione from her crazy thoughts. 

After the Hundred and one question asked by Ginny, Diana finally concluded: “My dear, I am a witch. I am not Merlin. I cannot make miracles.” 

To which Ginny replied playfully: “ Do not underestimate yourself! One day, you could be the master of the teas.” 

To which Diana replied: “Let’s not hope for such a terrible fate. I would have to reply to a lot of annoying questions.” 

The breakfast ended with those wise words. Hermione had nearly forgotten the previous night when Ron, now named Ron Ron, exited the hall with Lavender on his arm. 

The blond witch was beaming. She was holding Ron like a lifeline and kissing his hands like he was some demi-god. The brightest witch of her age felt like an idiot. She wanted to puke, and her eyes were filled with tears. 

She felt Harry jogging to reach her side when she was about to sob.

“Hermione! You are here. I need some advice on something.” He said while squeezing her hands. She knew that he was not really interested in talking about something. He was just there to support her. 

“Let’s talk later over a chocolate or a nice tea.” He said, smiling at her.

“That’s a very good idea. I will catch up with you later.” Hermione uttered. She had to run to the loo to splash water on her reddened face. 

Dropping Harry’s hand, she directed herself to the loo. However, on her way, her path was obstructed by the annoying blond tosser: Draco Malfoy. 

He did not say a word to her. He actually barely looked at her. He just handed her a sealed letter while crossing her. 

Hermione, whose primary goal was to stop crying, felt tears run down her cheeks. She was sad for Ron, and she was mad at herself for Draco. She wanted to stop this Soap opera situation. The school was to study and not be dragged around by useless boys. 

In the 1st-floor toilet, she took the executive decision to stop that mess. She would read Draco's letter and put an end to that nonsense for once. 

When she opened the missive, only a few elegant words calligraphed: 

“We need to talk. Arboretum 6 PM Today.”

She was determined to end things once by meeting with her nemesis in the Arboretum.

Chapter Text

Draco knew she would be right on time. He was not surprised when at 6 PM to the dot, the brown haired witch appeared. She was dressed in her regular uniform. Her hair gathered in a loose bun. The young witch looked weirdly determined, ready to get a mountain down. 

Draco was not afraid. He was the one who decided to call on this meeting. After the kiss, he spent the night wide awake, repeating the scene in his brain. The Slytherin Prince should not be dragged into such a low affair, yet he could not help it. He also had vouched to break her heart, but going back to his dorm, he realized that it was a terrible idea. Draco could be associated with a low life form like Granger, yet he wanted to see her. He wrote the letter on a whim and realized only after giving her what he had done. 

Deep down, he felt that he had to see her. He had to kill the thought growing like weeds in his brain. He could not associate himself with a mudblood. He also imagined all the scenarios in which the Dark Lord would find out and ask him for punishment to kill the Gryffindor princess. Draco was terrified. He remembered Hermione's doppelganger he had to kill brutally. To be fair, he did not remember killing her as he lost consciousness, but he remembered the odor of the blood left on his hands. His hands felt stained forever, and the tattoo on his arm was a testimonial for that. All the occluding would not hide this visceral fear he experienced daily. However, for that meeting, he decided to hide his feelings behind a mask of indifference. 

“Here I am. What do you want?” Hermione broke the heavy silence. Her words echoed in the empty greenhouse. Draco was so lost in his thoughts that he had forgotten that the witch was there staring at him in disbelief.

“Right,” he uttered. 

“In theory, I would not have asked for a meeting with one of my sexual partners, but you are a mudblood, and I needed to clear the air between us.”

Dumbass! he thought directly after speaking. How could he be that stupid? Calling her “sexual partner”, after a kiss. He wanted to bang his head on the wall. He was getting so nervous that hiding his feelings became unbearable. 

Slowly, he raised his eyes toward the Gryffindor witch. Her face was blank, and her eyes widened by the surprise of his comment. Feeling that he could not stop on that statement, the blond wizard continued: 

“Let’s say, nothing happened, ok? Let's keep hating each other or even ignoring each other. I do not want to have anything to do with you.” He said harshly enough and hoped she would not react badly. She was still in a state of shock, her gaze locked in his. 

She took five horrible seconds to reply to him.

“For once, I agree. It was a mistake, and I hope it will never happen again.” She replied in a neutral tone. 

Now, it was his turn to be stunned by her reply. She actually agreed and did not comment on his awkward opening.

“Right.” He breathed.

“Right.” She replied sharply.“Then, goodbye.” The brown-haired girl said while turning our heels to the exit. 

“We are exiting through the same door. To be the greatest witch of your age, you are pretty dense.” He whispered, but he knew she heard him when she launched an exasperated puff.

Nonetheless, she promptly exited the room, leaving the young wizard once again lost in his thoughts. 

Draco's heart was pounding in his chest. He did not understand why. A powerful wariness was clinging to his bones. He had corrected the course. He could be back in his role of the “perfect pure blood.” The kiss would be an old story, and he would bury it in his brain for the rest of his life. However, the Malfoy heir could not bury it in his brain. He still felt her lips on his and her body between his arms. His heart ached with pain, and he did not understand why. 

All the pain and the anger he had suppressed resurfaced like a tsunami of emotion. He was suffocating, and his only thought was to find relief. However, he was on the floor of the greenhouse crouched to find his breath. 

He hated himself for being that weak, unable to manage his emotions, and for having his heart pinched by a girl like Hermione. 

After his shameful collapse in the greenhouse; he spent his night thinking about their meeting. He should be happy, but he hated the coldness of her reaction as if their kiss had meant nothing to her. He should be happy about her indifference as she was not suited for him, but he wanted her to suffer like he was suffering. He should be happy, but he was bitter, and he could not stop thinking. 

Her being away from him also represented her safety. Voldmort message to him was clear: He had killed a muggle-born so resemblant to Hermione that no doubts were admitted. 

If he would get close to the honey-eyed witch, he would condemn her to her doom. Although Malfoy had killed, he was not an assassin and could not bear the thought of being responsible for Granger's death. 

The next day, as usual, Draco left his dormitory to inspect the bloody vanishing cabinet. In the wee hours of the morning, the air was cool and enchanted with a glistering mist. The dark corridors felt like welcoming company for the young wizard, whose brain was mentally exhausted. In spite of his mental fog, Draco knew he was being followed. Potter seems to be obsessed with him. Draco thought it would be such bad timing to bump into the Saint Potter now. The youngest death eater increased his pace making sure to hide from alcove to alcove. Reaching one of the darkest corners, he could finally breathe when his vision registered some ruffled sounds and a crystalline voice enumerated: “Checkmate.” 

Draco knew he was utterly screwed, to remain polite. 

Chapter Text

Hermione was so proud of herself. Before reaching the arboretum, she had panicked a little, but she remembered her goal: No distractions and, above all, no distractions with Draco Lucius Malfoy. 

She arrived at 6 PM at the dot, and she was not surprised to see the blond wizard already passing there. 

He was his nonchalant and annoying self, but Hermione could sense some apprehension when he uttered his first words. Everything felt so awkward, and she was delightfully surprised to learn that Malfoy had the same intentions as hers. He wanted to stop this masquerade and avoid any displeasing consequences. 

To his long monologue, Hermione quietly agreed and promptly left. She did not feel relieved when she exited the greenhouse. She rather felt agitated, and it was not because the Slytherin Prince had taken the opportunity to slander her while she left the meeting point. 

Hermione knew how to read people. She was a bloody swot, a nerd, a bookworm, but she knew how to analyze people like an open book. Malfoy had been his arrogant self, but she detected his stormy grey eyes a pitch of disappointment, maybe even sadness. 

Based on that observation, she had to understand the hidden word the wizard was not pronouncing to her. 

Hermione had also to admit to herself, that her fling with Malfoy felt like an unfinished business. She wanted more of him, but she was neither ready to admit to herself nor ready to admit to him. Thus, as rationally as she could, she decided to track the Slytherin boy and take her turn demanding explanations. Obviously, he had sent a beautifully written letter to ask for her time in the Arboretum. Hermione felt that this modus operandi was not suited to her more informal style. She would research his whereabouts and then follow him. What was convenient for her was that Harry had developed a weird obsession with Malfoy. The research part then became simpler than she thought. 

“I see him walking alone in the castle early in the morning or late at night.” reflected Harry with his green eyes narrowed on the marauder's map. 

“What do you think he is doing?” Candidly asked Hermione. She hated manipulating Harry that way, but the bright witch needed to locate Malfoy and corner him alone. 

“I am not sure exactly, but something sketchy. Something for his bigoted dad or worse….”

The boy who lived explained. Harry had seen the dark lord killing Cedric, and since that instant, his usually vivid green eyes had turned pale. 

“Ok, maybe it is linked to our encounter with him this summer in Diagonal Alley?” Added Ron joining the conversation. Her former crush managed to detangle himself from the blond glue. 

“You know what?” said Hermione while snatching the map from Harry’s hands. 

“I will take the next night shift.” 

“No,” Harry sharply replied. “We do not know how dangerous he is. He could be armed or worse.”

“Harry is right,” Ron added. 

“Firstly, Ronald, I saved you both countless times rather than you saving me. This proves the point that I can take care of myself alone. Secondly, Harry, you had countless night shifts, and nothing happened to you. I would love to have you guys trusting me in this. Plus Harry, you will use some sleep. You look awful! For you, Ron, you have your blond sweetheart to tend to.” The last word tasted bitter in her mouth, but she was happy with her tirade. She left the two boys open-mouthed on the Gryffindor’s common room sofa. 

Research check..now came tailing Malfoy. 

—--------------------------------

On a chill autumn morning, she was ready to find Malfoy. Like a skilled hunter, she had prepared her plan. She would sneak out of the dormitory when the first lights did not penetrate the sky. She would hide in an isolated alcove until locating her prey on the map. She knew the prefect and teacher surveillance routes, and she had a joker in her pocket thanks to Harry’s map. After several hours of waiting in the cold morning air, Malfoy showed up on the map. Ready for the action, Hermione launched her tailing strategy. In the darkness, she followed him from alcove to alcove. He most likely felt he was being followed as his pace increased. However, Hermione was clever enough to redirect his path to corner him in one of the remote alcoves. She knew that the place was calm and most importantly outside of the regular prefect routes. Hidden in the shadow, she smirked in success as she managed to stalk the Malfoy heir with flying colors. 

“Checkmates.” She whispered in the Slytherin ear. 

Malfoy reacted like anyone who got cornered in the early morning hours in a remote alcove of an ancestral castle. 

“FUCK!” he shouted while crumbling to the floor. Hermione remarked, however, that the blond wizard had his wand up. “EXPELIARMUS.” He shouted again, this time facing her. He was in his usual attire: a crisp white shirt and simple black trousers. On the contrary to his posh outfit, his hair looked messy, and his grey eyes were darkened by the jump scare. 

“Protego.” she launched before his spell reached her. While casting her spell, Malfoy had time to stand up again. He was facing her with a murderous expression. 

“WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU? YOU BLOODY LUNATIC. YOU ARE LUCKY. I DID NOT AVAD YOU ON THE SPOT. I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!” he yelled while pushing Hermione to the nearest wall. His eyes were still dark, and his fists were ready to punch something, most likely her face. Hermione braced for the impact. She closed her eyes and thought that maybe Harry was right: Malfoy was dangerous. However, the punch never came. When the young witch opened her eyes, Malfoy was crunched on the floor with his hands buried in his hair. He was panting loudly like he was in pain. She knew PTSD symptoms when she saw them.

 Harry was basically plagued with them. 

“Hey. hey.” She murmured while reaching down to touch him. He was so weak that he did not have the strength to push her touch away. “Breath Malfoy! look into my eyes.” He raised his gaze toward her. All the grey had melted like mercury. 

“Good!” She breathed. “Now, hold your breath, five seconds.” which he did. 

“You are doing great, Draco.” It was the first time she uttered his first name. She knew how to calm panic attacks, as she had helped Harry countless times. 

Couple of minutes passed, and Hermione knew things were back to normal when the storm in Malfoy's eyes came back to life. 

“Are you doing this often?” She asked like a doctor to their patient. 

“Whatever! Granger! It is too early in the morning to play the crazy physician with me. Get lost! I am going back to bed.”

“No! You will not escape like this, you moron. I helped you! You owe me 5 minutes of your time.” She quickly added while blocking his path. 

“Make it fast!” He grunted. 

After he pronounced those words, the young witch forgot why she followed him. Like a moth to a flame, her attention got struck by Malfoy grey eyes and the intimate moment they had just lived.

Without an additional word, she launched herself to kiss him fiercely. Bold move! Her well-prepared discourse was completely forgotten. Kissing him was actually a panic move. It could happen to all the best strategists. 

The taste of his lips came back to her memory, and they tasted divine. However, Malfoy was not on the same page, as he immediately violently pushed her. 

Hermione felt her heart drop from the rejection, but Malfoy's gaze was telling another story. 

“I cannot do this.” He painfully whispered, looking at her with the most intense stare. She knew he was fighting himself not to continue. He avoided looking at her swollen lips. “Please leave before I regret it. LEAVE! RIGHT FUCKING NOW! 

Defeated and slightly scared, Hermione turned and started running away. She could feel the tears running down her cheeks. She had to admit, deep down, that she wanted to kiss Draco Malfoy and maybe more than that.

Chapter Text

Hermione had trouble recovering from her previous encounter with Malfoy. She was even more confused than before. She thought she was just a bloody fool, and if she had stayed with the explanation in the arboretum, none of this would have happened. 

Her ego was bruised,  and she had to admit that now she was a bit scared of the blond Slytherin. The brown-haired witch had never seen him like this. 

Weirdly, his panic attack was not unusual, as Harry had some regularly, Ron had horrifying nightmares, and she also often felt overly anxious.

What troubled her was his contradicting behavior. He had rejected her, but his eyes and his body language meant something else. Hermione knew she had to let go, but she was too stubborn to understand what Malfoy was sincerely thinking. 

The weeks went by and she did not get to cross paths with Malfoy. He was avoiding her. The only time she heard from him was during one of the “Slughorn Club” meetings when the old professor inquired about him. 

“Mr Zabini,” Slughorn piped. “May I inquire about your friend, Mr Malfoy, whereabouts? He seems to be shunning our meetings.”

“Mr. Slughorn.” answered the Slytherin wizard with his aristocratic accent. “I assure you that it is not Mr Malfoy's intention. He very much appreciated your soirées. However, I admit that his family duties became somehow a priority over the last months. Far be it from me to partake in gossip, but I heard about his dear mother's unstable health.” 

As soon as Zabinis ended his sentence, Harry scoffed. Hermione could have sworn she heard her best friends muttering: “Death eater scum.” 

“Oh that’s unfortunate,” lamented the potion master. “I wish for dear Narcissa to regain her health fast.” It was now Diana’s turn to nearly choke on her soup. Hermione thought that Malfoy was not only her little secret obsession. Diana and Harry both seem to have some unfinished business with him. She felt dumb having thought she was the only one having an oddly special relationship with the Malfoy heir. 

“Nonetheless, You are all invited to my winter soirée to celebrate Yule.” Slughorn announced with pride. He immediately turned to Diana: “Did I pronounce soirée correctly? I pride myself on being fluent in French.” 

Diana did not look like her usual nonchalant self. She seemed preoccupied, so she simply replied with a forced smile: “Your accent is delightfully British, professor, but French people love a slight accent in French, it is very distingué.” 

“You flatter me, Mrs Randal.” The old man beamed. “Please be aware that you need to bring a plus one to the soirée. The more the merrier.”

After Slughorn finished his sentence, Diana's face dropped as well as Harry’s, Gini’s, and even Hermione felt embarrassed. She did not have time to find a date. Malfoy was out of the picture, and Ron was occupied with his new girlfriend. She would have to scrap the button off the guys' list and she hated it. 

—--------------------------------------

Hermione had to do the maximum with the minimum of suitable candidates. She thought Neville would be her savior, but he announced that he had other plans. The young witch had to find the most distasteful guy: Cormac McLaggen.

Not only was Mclaggen a show-off, but also, he also had the most annoying way of tailing Hermione wherever she was going. 

On an early morning walking to potion class, the blond wizard jogged up to her: “Hey! Hey baby. I wanted to let you know to wear your periwinkle dress for the soirée. Let’s see! You did not gain too much weight, so it shall do.”

Next to her Ginny scoffed angrily, and mouthed to Hermione: “A-HOLE”

Hermione was hopeless. She had to endure this douchebag until the Slughorn party, and she hated it. 

To her great relief, the party arrived faster than she thought. 

“What should I wear?” Hermione asked Ginny, who was sitting in her bed next to her. 

“What is the goal tonight?” Asked the red-hair.

“Attend the soirée while escaping my date,” Hermione replied sternly. 

“Gotcha!” replied Ginny. “So simple make-up, and a nice simple black dress, and " she grabbed something from her closet “a crocheted cardigan. It will be sophisticated yet I do not fuck on the first night vibe.”

“Gosh Ginny!” laughed Hermione

“Girl, you asked, I provided. I will also be there, to protect you, and Harry will be there too.”

“Thank you!” Hermione replied while hugging her friends. 

The Cormac boy came to pick her up, and right away, Hermione felt an uneasy thrill when he placed his hand on her hips. 

When they reached the party, she made everything possible to reach her friend group. 

Ginny was chatting with Diana and Luna. 

“Nargles are all over you Hermione.” greeted Luna. 

“Ah! I should have not been careful.” The brown haired witch smiled. Luna was a bit special. She wore her name perfectly as some days she seems to be a bit lost between the moon and the stars. 

“What are Nargles?” Asked sincerely Diana. Luna was about to reply when Gini spoke, certainly to avoid Luna to enter in one of her hour long explanations on Nargles. 

“Diana, Where is your date?” Ginny said while sipping her alcohol free drink. 

“I do not have one.” the blond witch replied. “Well your brother volunteers himself, but I politely decline. Poor him. That’s not the party of the century”. She whispered the last part.

“Which brother?”playfully asked Hermione. 

“Georgi” Diana replied slightly blushing. 

“On a nickname basis, as I can see,”laughed Ginny.

“You are bound to many twins. How odd?” Remarked Luna. 

Luna had always had an eye for this type of thing, though Hermione. 

“Malfoy is here.” launched Harry, who, for some reason, had joined the conversation. 

“And?” rudely replied Ginny. “Do you have a plan to seduce him tonight or what?” 

Luna and Diana started to laugh at Harry's embarrassed face, but Hermione could not laugh. 

It was the first time she had seen him again after her kiss fiasco. Malfoy looked thinner than usual, and the dark circles under his eyes were darker than before. What shocked Hermione were his grey eyes. The storm was strong in them, but a veil of pain was dancing in them. He looked like a shadow as if something consumed him from inside.  As soon as he registered her presence, he averted his gaze to not look at her. Hermione wanted to reach out to him and once again ask for an explanation, but she was blocked by Cormac popping up again in front of her.  

“A drink for my date,” he sweetly said while giving her a glass of an unknown liquor. He once again placed his hand on her hips and dragged her to an isolated corner of the room. The place was an adjacent small room whose door was hidden from the main room with some curtains. Hermione wiggled to escape, but the guy was taller than her and stronger. She started to panic. She had to think fast, but the blond Gryffindor started to press himself to her. Her survival instinct started to kick in. She was alone. A guy cornered her. She did not know what the content of her drink was, but she bet it was not pumpkin juice. 

“Fuck fuck” She thought while pressing her side to find her wand. In those tense moments, she always had trouble finding her bloody wand. Hermione started to despair as her options of escaping got thinner when suddenly a guttural sound escaped from the darkness. 

“Shall I record while you rape her? Or do you want me to just watch?” asked a slight drawl. Cormac straightened himself promptly with shame and fear. 

“Who is there?” McLaggen stuttered. 

“Someone you do not want to anger, dickhead.” Malfoy added while entering Hermione vision. He looked murderous, just like during their last encounter. 

“I would advise you to go grab yourself a drink and never talk to Granger for the rest of the evening… or even for the rest of your life. Otherwise, I would report your unpleasant behavior to McGonagall. Your pathetic international Quidditch career would be ruined.” Draco spat while grabbing McLaggen by the collar. “Now, hush, leave the lady alone.”

Cormac left promptly, leaving Hermione in shock but free. When she raised her gaze toward Draco to thank him, he was already leaving the room. 

“Wait!” she stammered.

“No!” he coldly replied. 

 “Colloportus!” she launched, and the door closed herself. “I just want to thank you for driving Cormac away. He was pretty embarrassing.”

“Pretty embarrassing?” asked Malfoy in a falsy surprised tone. “He spiked your drink and most likely wanted to do unbelievable things to you, and you find that pretty embarrassing. You are a bloody fool.” He added. 

“The situation was in control.” She lied. 

“He was corning you in a dark room, and the situation was in control.” His voice was raised, but she knew he controlled himself not to lose his temper. 

“It is ok!” she replied. “Thank you! Now let’s move on.” She had done that on purpose. She knew it would annoy him at best or make him murderous at worst. The second option occurred when she was brutally pushed to the door. “Open the bloody door now or I will hurt your pretty face.” He whispered in her ear. She might have played with the fire too much. 

Chapter Text

She had stalked him in the shadows. Draco could not believe it. For his whole life, he had Granger in most of his thoughts. He had to admit, it was his little obsession. At first, it started with a powerful hatred, as she was better than in most aspects, and it was not acceptable for a Muggle-born to be better. However, with the years, Draco realized that he did not hate her that much. He actually wanted to attract her attention and feel her gaze on him. He wanted her to recognize him as an equal.

Draco did not know if the whole Voldemort interlude had modified his brain chemistry, but he knew one thing for sure: The dark lord and his group of mentally deranged people were not the people he wanted to associate with. 

However, life was not that easy, and even if he wanted to move away from the Death Eaters cult, he could not. The Dark lord had made it clear to him that failure to comply would be torture, crucio, and then death. Draco was mortified by the idea of being responsible for his parent's death or anyone’s death for that matter. 

He had to stay strong and keep his focus. When Granger had found him back and kissed him in the shadows, his heart came back to life. It felt like a breath of fresh air in the inferno he was living in. This time, she was the one who initiated the kiss, which meant for Draco that she was somehow interested in him. 

However, reality had come back to him like the coldest of the shower. If he initiated something with the witch, he would put her life in danger. Firstly, she was a muggle, and with his death eater oath, he vouched to terminate them.  Secondly, Draco remembered his idea of making her fall for him and breaking her heart. At that exact moment, he was not sure anymore of that plan and suspected that maybe the opposite could happen to him. 

“Hey Draco! Are you in dreamland? You should recommend to me the drug you are taking, It looks efficient.” added Blase in a condescending voice. 

“Cut me some slack, Mr aristocrat.” spatted Draco. “I am tired these days. My drug is called Nightmare and Insomnia. Try it. It works wonders. However, not sure your perfect skin would resist.” 

Blase only grunted while Theo, who was studying next to them, laughed mockingly. 

“Go back to studying Nott! You would need it.” Added Zabini, exasperated. “Draco.” The Italian wizard added, “You will be expected at Slughorn winter soirée. Your absence has been remarked upon. I covered for you, but I cannot do more than this.”

Draco rolled his eyes. It was the last thing he needed. 

“Ok. Thank you, Blase! Sometimes you are not that bad.”

It was now Blase's turn to roll his eyes.

_____________________

The day of the soirée, Draco felt sicker than any other day. The dark magic embedded in his arm tattoo was killing him from the inside. In addition, he refrained from sleeping too much as his dreams were plagued with horror visions of him killing Granger. Voldemort torturing his mom. His aunt, Bella, killing his mom. He also refrained from eating as all food tasted like sand. His life was like an inferno, and he was constantly drawing in fire. 

When he arrived, he had seen her: Granger. She was laughing with her friends. Draco used all his remaining energy to avoid her gaze but to stick to Professor Slughorn's discourse. 

When the discourse became unbearably mundane, Draco decided to get to the bar to find something strong to soothe his nerves. 

“Are you looking for her?” A feminine voice asked.

“What do you mean?” he replied while facing the owner of the voice. It was again the girl with the annoying grey eyes. Draco learned that her name was Diana Randal, a transfer from Beaux-Batton. 

“You creepily looked at her all night.” She added what looked like herbal tea while sipping. 

“I did not, and please refrain from talking to me. Weirdo!” He hoped that his distasteful remark would drive her away, but it was the contrary. She got closer to him; so close that she whispered in his ear. 

“If I were you, I would follow up. I saw Cormac taking her away in a pretty rude manner.” 

While pushing her away, Draco added: “I do not CARE! Why are you not gonna save her like you did last time?” 

Diana looked at her tea with a sad expression: “I am afraid, OK!  This guy is sketchy and way stronger than me. I do not know what to do.”

Draco felt the witch fear and hopelessness. What started like a normal conversation was in reality a plea for help. The young wizard had sworn to himself to not interact with Granger ever again. However, in a dire situation, he had no choice but to act. 

Abruptly giving his drink to Diana, he marched toward what he thought would be Cormac's destination. 

In the darkness, he waited for the dumb Gryffindor boy, and after a couple of minutes without a fault, Cormac entered the room. 

Draco's blood started to boil when he realized Diana had been right. Hermione was trying to escape Cormac, but the blond wizard was taller and stronger than her, which made the task difficult. He needed to calm himself before speaking to avoid killing the guy on the spot. 

“Shall I record while you rape her? Or do you want me to just watch?” he asked with a neutral tone. 

“Who is there?” McLaggen stuttered. 

“Someone you do not want to anger, dickhead.” he added while closing the gap between him and Hermine.

“I would advise you to go grab yourself a drink and never talk to Granger for the rest of the evening… or even for the rest of your life. Otherwise, I would report your unpleasant behavior to McGonagall. Your pathetic international Quidditch career would be ruined.” Draco spat while grabbing McLaggen by the collar. “Now, hush, leave the lady alone.”

After shoving Mc Laggent out of the room, Draco was trembling and trying to regain his composure. To be honest, It could have been for any lady. He found it very distasteful to corner someone like this in spite of basic etiquette rules. Even if he would have loved to stay longer with his Gryffindor crush, Draco decided to promptly leave, when he heard her voice again.

“Wait!” she stammered.

“No!” he coldly replied. 

 “Colloportus!” she launched, and the door closed herself. “I just want to thank you for driving Cormac away. He was pretty embarrassing.”

She had to lock the door. What an excellent idea, Draco thought. 

“Pretty embarrassing?” he asked. She was testing his patience. “He spiked your drink and most likely wanted to do unbelievable things to you, and you find that pretty embarrassing. You are a bloody fool.”

“The situation was in control.” She candidly added. 

“He was corning you in a dark room, and the situation was in control.” He was slowly but surely losing his shit. 

“It is ok!” she replied. “Thank you! Now. Let’s move on.” Draco's blood had boiled before, but this time the sensation was different. All the accumulated rage and tiredness resurfaced. 

He had lost the ability to occlude and to contain himself. “Open the bloody door now or I will hurt your pretty face.” He whispered in her ear. If she really wanted to play that game, he would not contain himself any longer. 

“Not until you give me some answers.” She breathed. At that exact moment, she looked so small, all her fire was gone, but she still held his gaze firmly. 

“You kissed me, but you claimed that it was a dumb mistake yet your eyes say something else. What do you want?”

Draco passed his hand in his hair. He was mad as hell, but also he could not bear having this conversation now. Life had exhausted him, and he knew that she would not take his lies as an answer. 

“You!” he blunted without realizing. Somehow it was better to tell the truth than suffer more years carrying this secret. At least, he was free of one burden. 

“I want you.” He calmly added this time. “But I will never have you. You are everything I should not have and yet I want your attention. I crave your approval.”

She kept looking at him with tears in her eyes. He did not understand why. 

“How long?” she asked with a trembling voice. 

“I do not remember.” he lied. Of course, he remembered. He wanted to tell her that he had been crushing over her for years now. He wanted to assure her that she was the only person, his bloody ego was trying to impress. However, the image of Voldemort bloomed in his mind, and fear grew again in his throat. 

“You know what? Let's forget about it. I am not a good person. I have bullied you with intense pleasure all those years. I felt happy every time you cried. Let’s just forget ok.” he said with distress in his voice. He hoped it would work. Granger was silent. 

“Absolutely not,” she added, having regained her fire. “You are not gonna be a coward! You told me the truth, now you shall face my feelings. Since that kiss, I have been reflecting, and I enjoy what we have.

“What do we have?” Draco asked genuinely. He did not understand her reasoning. 

“I like our meeting in the shadows. I want more of them” She added while blushing 

“You know that I am a piece of shit and I will drop you as soon as I do not want you anymore.” he lied, again. 

“I nearly died countless times, so a piece of shit like you will be ok”She added while launching herself to reach his lips. He thought about resisting, but his heart was too weak. He knew that one way or another, he had great risks to be dead at the end of the war. If not dead, he would be sent to Azkaban for his crimes. Ignoring all the alarms raised by his conscience, he kissed her back with all the rage he had accumulated. Draco felt that the fear and the pain had been lifted, but he knew that his heart was now on the death row. Hermione would be the executioner of his downfall. 

Chapter Text

Hermione and Draco continued their encounter in the shadows. They did not have a lot of time for more than snogging, as their encounter points kept on being busted by the prefect and professors. Outside of intimate moments, they both shared intellectual moments. Hermione loved debating with him about potions or magic creatures. She remembered one night when she launched the hippogriff topic. 

“You remember in 3rd year.” she laughed, “ Buck hated you so much.” 

“That Dumb chicken.” He commented. “And my dad did everything to kill that beast. It was embarrassing. The bruises they had found at the infirmary were actually not caused by Buck.” He sighed. 

“How come?” Hermione asked. It was one of the rare times Malfoy seemed to open up about his private life. Usually, they kissed or talked about school subjects, but rarely asked about their private lives. It was a true “fuck friends” situation. If Ginny would have known, she would have been so proud of her. 

“My dad beats me sometimes. It is quite common in pureblood households. Nott sometimes cannot go to school because his lunatic father loves breaking his bones. My father is not a lunatic. He just has high expectations that I do not fulfill for which I get reprimanded.”

“Wow! I am so sorry.” Hermione lamented. She thought that Malfoy had lived a privileged life that was far from any difficulties. It looked like appearances were often prefabricated. 

“Don’t feel sorry for me. I sometimes deserved the beatings. I was such a piece of shit. I am still a little brat.”

“You are a bit egocentric.” She admitted, “But no one deserves to be beaten, because they do not fulfill their parents' unrealistic goals.”

“Thank you for the compliments.” Malfoy ironically commented. “Pure blood world is different from anything else. You would not understand.”  

“I would not.” She conceded. “I just hope it is not happening still.”

He started to laugh like a mad man so much so that tears formed in his eyes. 

“You are so clever yet so naive. Of course, those things are still happening, but now they crucio me.” Hermione's stomach dropped. Draco had just admitted casually that he was frequently reciving  dark magic beatings. 

“But again, it would not be your problem. Let it go.” He casually admitted, still not aware of the bomb he had just dropped. A heavy silence installed itself between the two. There in the darkness, Hermione reflected for the first time. Maybe Draco had a much more complicated life than she thought, and maybe he knew something about Voldemort. Crucio's torture was only known in Death Eater circle. 

“I would have to head back.” She heard Malfoy proclaim. 

“I will also head back,” Hermione added while grabbing his wrist to kiss him. 

Draco had a pained expression on his face when her hand made contact with his wrist. However, he acted like nothing wrong happened, and promptly abandoned Hermione in the dark corridors. 

____________________

The next day in the library, the young witch had taken her traditional team with Diana. The arctic blond witch had prepared her decoction with some cardamon and cayenne to warm the hearts on those cold early spring days. 

Harry and Ron had joined her a couple of hours later. 

“It is so obvious that he took the oath,” explained Harry. “He is linked to all those weird incidents. He was in Hogsmeade when the weird necklace was given.” 

“He is a master in potion making.” Added Ron. “And it is true, he wears long sleeves. I am sure he is hiding something.” 

Hermione wanted to believe her friends, but she also had some conflicts of interest. Both Ron and Harry did not know about Malfoy. Even Gini, her best female friend, was not aware. Hermione suspected Diana to know something, as she understood from Malfoy that the blond witch had begged him to follow Cormac. 

“Ok, can we organize the evidence?” She tried to help. 

“I think he is doing something in the room of requirement, that's for sure.”Declared Harry while raising his voice a little too much.  

“We have to follow him,” added Ron. 

“Already done.” Hermione and Harry answered in unison.

“What would be the next steps then?” Asked Ron. 

The trio fell into the silence. Hermione knew what she had to do, but she felt it was terribly wrong. 

“Let me take care of it.” She finally added. “Harry. I beg you to let me have full control over the next steps. You need to trust me, and in any circumstances, you should not intervene.”

Harry remained silent a couple of seconds before adding. 

“How do I know, you are not gonna risk your life?” 

“I cannot give you any guarantee, but I promise I will be back alive. You know, I always survive.”

“Right. When are you planning to align your strategy?” Harry asked with caution. 

“Tonight,” Hermione replied in the plainest tone of voice, she could summon. 

“Right. If you are not back tomorrow morning at breakfast, I will come looking for you.” Harry bargained. 

“Deal.” She concluded. 

“Guy, I do not like the idea. It could be dangerous.” Ron commented, worried for his friend. 

“It will be, but that is the only solution for now.” Hermione was decided. Tonight, she would confront Malfoy and ask him to confess whether he was a death eater or not. 

Chapter Text

Hermione was so anxious. She hated herself because, as usual, she had taken responsibility, and she was not sure what to do. Harry and Ron were right. All the clues led to him. She was not blind, and she also had doubts. Malfoy always reacted weirdly when someone touched his wrists. He had told her that he was regularly Crucioed. Above all, his physical state reflected a strong internal turmoil not to mention the panic attack she had witnessed. 

Hermione knew deep down that something sketchy was going on, but how to confront someone like Draco Malfoy. She had seen him in various settings already, but not in the one where she accused him of being a “death eater.”

Hermione started to panic because she knew the outcome of the discussion. Death eater or not, he would become murderous, and she would not be able to control him. She hated to lose control and not be the master of the situation. 

Unlike her usual self, the bright witch decided to go with the flow and not sketch a plan beforehand. She would use the relationship they formed to get her answers. Thinking about it, it was a horrible idea because he would believe that her interest was staged. 

Hermione held her head in her hands: she was the dumbest witch alive. 

Like an execution, she slowly advanced to their rendezvous point. Draco was already there, looking very agitated. He was passing like an animal in a cage. 

“You look troubled.” He remarked. 

“I am, and you look troubled.” She replied. 

“We should stop this.” He bluntly added. “You are not safe with me. You are in danger. You know what? You should leave the school.”

“Draco, you do not make any sense.” She was stunned. Hermione had seen Draco in many scenarios but never saw a “worried” Draco. He was suffocating like a worried mother. (Hermione's mother was anxious, but nothing compared to Draco.)

“I do make sense, and I beg you to pack your stuff and leave now.” He was too serious to be a worried mother. Hermione's heart knew that this reaction confirmed her fears and Harry's hypothesis. She could swear at that moment she heard her heart shattering.

“You know something I do not know. Right?”She successfully articulated.

“No, but the prophet is saying that an attack will occur before the end of the week. You are a muggle born. You will be a target.” Draco failed to explain to her. 

“Show me your wrists.” Hermione knew that if he would be a death eater, he would be marked as one. 

“I beg your pardon?” He faltered 

“Show me your wrists.”She repeated with a strange serenity. 

“But why? You are the one not making sense now.” He was trying to escape her demand, and Hermione knew it.

“If you have nothing to hide, then let me check those.” Hermione was reaching to unbutton his cuffs. 

“NO!” He loudly reacted. A couple of seconds passed, and with a grave tone, he spoke again: “Let me do it myself.” 

In a slow motion, Draco unbuttoned his cuff. He held Hermione's gaze during the whole process. She knew he was trying to read her mind. His grey eyes betrayed his distress. Hermione was hardly surprised when she noticed the snake tattoo on Draco’s pale skin. She was not sure why, but she felt moisture on her cheeks. 

“Before you ask, it occurred this summer. I was not consenting, and, yes, I know something you do not know.” He painfully said. 

“What do you know?” Hermione forced herself to keep her composure. 

“I cannot tell you in detail.” Draco’s eyes were cold.

“You will tell me, and maybe we can ask Dumbeldors’s help. He will know what to do.” 

She was desperate, as she knew Draco was not doing anything willingly. 

“It is too late. I am gonna die anyway. I do not care anymore about myself, but I care about you. I beg you to leave. Now.” He begged her, nearly falling to his knees. 

“Hogwarts is my home. Even if the school is under attack. I will stay and fight.”She would not back down against a dark lord. 

Malfoy laughed. “If you think you can do anything against them, you are mistaken. Even if you are the brightest witch of our generation, you will not resort to dark curses. They will use dark curses, and they will aim to kill you.”

“I am not leaving, Malfoy.” Hermione maintained her stand. 

“Then you will regret it. I would not be able to protect you.” Draco looked sad, more than enraged. “Hermione, let's stop all of this. It was nice while it lasted, but war is upon us, and we will fight on different sides.” 

“You can still change sides!” She cried 

“I can’t, and you know it.” Hermione's heart shattered, and she knew for a fact that Draco’s too. He was fighting to hold back tears. She was convinced. 

As a last goodbye, the Slytherin prince gently kissed her hair before uttering: “Bye, Granger.”

He left Hermione alone at night, sobbing in an abandoned corridor. She did not understand why her heart felt so heavy, and the physical pain was excruciating. 

_____________

The following morning, over breakfast, she saw Harry’s relieved face when she came to sit next to him. 

“So,” the boy initiated. 

“Nothing!” Hermione lied. “My genius plan failed.” She bitterly admitted. Her genius plan of not falling for Malfoy failed. Her plan of focusing on her studies and not having her heart broken by a jerk failed.  However, she had ethically to make Harry understand that Malfoy was a death eater, or the whole school would be in danger. 

“But, I have heard some rumors in the Slytherin common room.” she promptly added. 

“That’s where you went!” added Ron his mouth full of pudding. 

“I will not reveal my secret plans, even less to you Ron.” She puffed. 

At the Slytherin table, Draco Malfoy was missing, which altered Harry even more. 

Hermione knew the reason for his absence, and her heart pinched. 

During the afternoon, Draco reappeared in the potion class as an important paper was due. He looked like his usual self: malnourished,  fantomatic. 

“Halloween is over. I wonder if Draco wants to dress up as a ghost.” laughed Seamus. 

“It's a bit ugly to laugh at people’s appearance. Don’t you think?” added Diana.

“Come on, it is funny. Why are you defending this freak?” The Irish boy added. 

“Maybe our senses of humor are different.” Simply replied Diana. 

Hermione was far from Diana's verbal sparring. The only thing she wanted was to reach out to Malfoy. When the class dismissed, she ran outside to chase him. Despite his poor health, he was still walking fast. She managed to reach him at a corner near the Slytherin dorms.

“Malfoy!” she cried. “Stop!”

The wizard stopped to face her. She was shocked to notice his blank stair. She knew he was occulting. 

“This is for you,” she said while handing over a letter. 

“Get lost, Mudblood.” He simply replied while crushing her letter between his hands. 

It was the last time Hermione saw Malfoy that year. 

Chapter Text

During a cold spring night, the castle seems to be buzzing with a strange energy. It was not the light and hopeful energy associated with spring. It was a dark and twisted energy that was leaving a putrid aura in the castle. Diana knew something was going on when she heard people running in the hallways. To investigate all these crowd moments, the young witch exited her dorm toward the main corridors. Her eyes grew wild when she saw countless kids flooding outside. Most of them were screaming: “We are under attack”.

Following the crowd, Diana managed to spot Hermione, who was exiting toward the patio. She had her wand firmly glued to her hand, and she was screaming some indication to the first years. 

When out of the sudden, the crowd grew silent. 

Almost in slow motion, all the kids turned their heads toward the astronomy tower. A corpse falling like a rock through the water was tumbling down.

Dumbledore had died, or was murdered. Diana had seen the Hogwarts master falling to his death from the astronomy tower. It could not be an accident. It was the first human that she witnessed die. She thought seeing death would be a devastating moment, tearing her soul, but the feeling was completely different. 

In the first second, she felt uneasy, and her stomach dropped. After a couple of minutes, the uneasiness grew to disbelief. Was she sure of what she had just witnessed? 

When Hermione, who was at her side, started to scream, Diana knew that she had not dreamed it. Everyone experiences death differently. The blond witch was just paralyzed, staring at the place of the impact. Hermione had screamed and was now panicking. Diana felt hopeless. Setting her feelings aside, she grabbed Hermione's hands in order to settle her. The blond witch had no idea what to do. She never dealt with trauma-induced panic attacks. She just knew that she had to be there for her friend. 

In between two sobs, Hermione managed to utter, “I have to find him. Make sure he is safe.”

“We will find him, my dear.” Added Diana, not being sure who he was. “We just need to get you to settle a little bit.” 

“I have to go to help.” The Gryffindor prefect pleaded. 

“No, not in that state!” Diana ordered her friend. “You are shaking! I will take care of things. Stay close to me.” She added while grabbing Hermione by the elbow. The witch had started to settle back to normal.

In the meantime, Diana managed to spot McGonagall in the crowd. Her stern expression remained, but her eyes were full of tears. 

“Professor!” the blond witch yelled. 

“Mrs Granger, Mrs Randal. Would you be kind enough to bring the youngest back to their dorm? We cannot have them witness such a spectacle. Mr Slughorn and Haggrid secured the castle. It shall be fine to re-enter.”

“Alright, Professor. One question, what will we become?” asked Diana promptly. The young witch was in survival mode, but she had seen the Dark Lord's mark in the skies. She felt a deep-rooted fear starting to bloom in her stomach, and she needed reassurance from an adult. 

“That’s not the time for questions, Mrs Randal, I am sorry. Go grab the first years, please.”

“Understood.” Simply added the witch, as she could hint that the situation was dire than she thought. 

Turning back to Hermione, Diana could witness that the witch had stopped shaking and that her eyes had regained their honey color. They had fire in them, and Diana knew it meant that her friend was determined and most probably angry.

“Can you take care of the first years, Diana. I will search for Harry and Ron,” she coldly said. 

“Yes, I will do it. Meet you in 1h at this exact spot.” Diana added while Hermione simply nodded. War had just started, and it seemed that the young witch was part of it. 

______________________________

It was just a struggle to bring back all the first years to their dorm and lock them there. They were bombarding Diana with questions: Who had died? Who were the people who breached the castle security? Will they all die?

It was an exhausted Diana who regained the meeting point 1h later. Hermione was already standing there, surrounded by Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Neville. Harry was only seated on the floor with his head in his hands. 

“Diana!” Greeted Hermione. “Everything ok with the first years?”

“Yes, nothing to declare. They had a lot of questions, but I managed to lock them all in their dorm. The fourth year is supervising them. Why is everyone here?” asked the young witch with a hint of worry in her voice. 

“Dumbledore had been murdered by none other than Snape himself.” Spitted aggressively, Ron. “He had no mercy, and he killed him, after the useless Malfoy cornered the Headmaster.”

“How do you know this?” Asked Neville. 

“I was there.”Harry simply commented. He was in a disheveled state. His clothes were full of filth, his glasses half broken, and his face stuck in a painful expression. 

“Some Death Eaters were there. Malfoy is one of them. I feel so dumb for letting this happen.” Harry's voice broke. 

“It means that you know who is back? And attacking us?” Ginny spoke. 

“It is WAR,” declared Harry. 

The pit in Diana’s stomach grew bigger. She always knew war was an option, and was sitting there like a Damocles' sword. It seems that the sword had finally fallen on their head in the form of the headmaster's murder. 

“We should avenge Dumbeldor,” promptly added Ron. 

“Ron!” Hermione said calmly, while grabbing his shoulder. “It is war, but we should be strategic. You know it better than anyone. They are playing chess with us.”

“I think I know a way.” Solemnly added Harry, “but we need more time.”

“We will give you more time, guys.” Added Neville. “You are the golden trio, we've got your back.”

“Yes!” cheered Diana, as she had said a long time ago to Hermione, war will not stop her life. She would fight for her future, and she hoped that in the chaos, she would be able to uncover who her real parents were. 

In a very childish manner, Harry extended his hand, and all of them reached out to hold it. They were still kids entering the war without knowing if they would come out of it alive.  

Chapter Text

Over the summer, Diana decided to remain in England as Fleur's wedding was around the corner. It took her a lot of convincing to do it with her mother. 

Isolde, Diana's adopted mother, was more than a witch. She had a deep rooted connection with nature, and had become one of the most respected herbalists in western europe. That being said, Diana’s adopted mother was a caring and loving mother, but she also gave her daughter a lot of freedom. Isolde believed that kids like seeds had to fly away to root themself somewhere further in the forest. 

However, Isolde's lenient nature had grown more rigid with the Dark Lord rising. Diana knew her mother was terrified for her, and that she would prefer her back to France. However, Diana was skilled and convincing. She had begged the Weasly’s parent to write her mother a later to insure, she would be safe over the summer staying with Fleur at the Burrow. She also had McGonagal write a recommendation letter to insure she would protect Diana at Hogwart. No one could tell if those letters where forged or not, but Isolde at ploid under the amount of good arguments. 

She made her daughter promise to wear a bouquet of Rosemary and Lavender to her uniform, and always carry moon infused rose water which Diana did religiously. 

“Do you think I should wear my hair loose or tied?” Asked Gini.

Diana had arrived in the Burrow a couple of days after her birthday at the beginning of July.

She came back from a short trip to France to see her family, before leaving her mom had commented: “my little bird, keep your friends close, and do not forget your plants.” 

“I guess you can wear them loose.” Diana commented on a weary tone. 

“You feel homesick already?” Checked Ginny. 

“No no, my dear. I am just a bit worried. You know tonight everyone would be helping Harry to escape. I am worried for Fleur, Hermione, Fred and…”

“George.” Gini interrupted. “Mainly about him.”

“No, all of them!” Diana blushed. “It is a dangerous mission, and I regret I was not invited.” the young witch lamented. 

“George convinced Mad eye to not bring you. He said if  I recall properly: "She is a great potion maker but she is not a fighter.”” Ginny reacted. 

“Puff…” Stomped Diana, "He said that?"

“He did. But do not worry, I am here too. It was not a boy who convinced the Order not to bring me to the mission. It was my lovely mum.”the red hair added in a bitter tone. Diana could not help but laugh at the young girl in front of her.  She was mad at Goerge, because truth be told, she knew she would have to participate in the war, and the earlier the better. The wizard was right, she never fought in real conditions, but Diana knew she was a good asset. She was a skilled herborist like her mom, and she knew how to brew medicinal potion like a pro. She was not bad at fighting, and she was resourceful. 

“Come !” Diana told Ginny while dragging her down to the kitchen. “I will brew tea for us.”

“The special sexy tea?” Ginny added playfull. 

“Arrggg enough of this!” Replied in an equally playful tone. 

—----------------------

 Diana was offered a room with Ginny, but as the house was already crowded, both girls slept in the same bed. Diana appreciated her time with Ginny. She was strong and proud, yet she was also playful like her brother. The young witch could not imagine how life was growing up with that many brothers. She felt envious, because she had grown up alone. The closest of a sister she had was Fleur which she met when she was eleven. During one night, Ginny and Diana were sipping some lavender tea Diana had made to calm their nerves. They both knew it was the night of Harry’s transfer. 

Ginny was worried sick for her brothers and friends, but Diana knew that her worries were mostly directed toward Harry. Over the couple of days they both cohabited, Diana got to know the deep link Ginny shared with Harry. She had grown up with him, always in Ron's shadow, but she had an important admiration for the chosen one. The girl would never admit it, but she would blush every time he talked to her. 

“The forest is restless,” commented Diana. 

“Maybe it is only us. I have to check where Mum is,” replied Gini before the girls heard Mrs Weasly calling. 

“GINNY” she cried in the night. 

Both girls ran toward the front of the house. Barefoot in the grass, Diana saw GinNY  rushing to Harry, who had just landed with Hagrid. The red-haired girl was pressing him so strongly to her chest that Diana felt a bit embarrassed. 

“Where are the others?” Asked Harry. 

Mrs Weasly was about to reply when Mr Weasly landed holding a bloodied body in his arms. Diana, who stood there, knew in her heart it was George. She had felt it earlier during the night. 

“Bring him home, Arthur,” the Weasley matriarch screamed at her husband. 

“Diana, you are good with medicinal plants. Go to the apothecary reserve and bring me materials to prepare a Poultice for the wounds.” 

“Yes, Ma'am.” The young witch added. 

She ran quickly to the reserve to grab comfrey leaves for the burn and some valerian salve to cool the pain. 

When Diana reached the living room, everyone was positioned next to the sofa around George. He was lying there like a romantic painting, which internally made Diana laugh. He was trying to be funny even though he had just escaped death.

Fred was also laughing.  Diana thought George might have joked with his brother. 

“Hello Fred!” the young witch greeted, “May I access your brother?” 

“I disinfected him already and cleaned the blood,” commented Molly. “My dear, please save my son.” The older witch begged. 

“Alright,” Diana said, approaching the wizard. She had never tended to people herself. She always loved to watch her mother curing people. She always wished that one day, she could also use plants to save people. 

“Goddess of the moon,” said George, a bit groggy from the injuries. 

“Hi!” Diana replied with her voice cracking. He would live for sure, but he was badly wounded. She started to work on patching the wounds with her homemade poultice. 

George hissed from the pain. 

“Little revenge for thinking I would not be suitable to fight,” Diana muttered. 

“You are a bad goddess of the moon, you should not hurt your patient for unfounded information.” He added with pain in his voice, but a hint of mischief. 

“I am not hurting you on purpose, your wounds are deep. You can only blame yourself,” she said, feigning to smile at him. A few minutes of silence passed, and only the noise of the clock was heard. Most of the evasion squad had left to rest, and Molly was busy in the kitchen preparing tea.

“This war is not your combat, Diana. You know it. You are not forced to stay here to fight with us.” George broke the silence. 

“I know.” She simply replied, “But I will stay; otherwise, who will fix your wounds?” 

“Arhhh, you are a tough little blondy,” he laughed and then hissed again in pain. 

“Do not underestimate me.” She smiled. 

“I am not, and I will never underestimate you, Diana. Just, I might hear you a little less.” 

He added, referencing the deep cut in his ear. 

“Too late for the jokes,” she added while laughing. 

Chapter Text

Even amid a wizard war, Fleur and Bill had decided to maintain their wedding. The young couple had opted to celebrate it with close family and a couple of friends at the burrow. It would be a bucolic wedding in the English countryside. The decor was set in the Wesley garden under immaculate tents, which were meant to welcome the guests for the aperitivo and the dinner.  Fleur added some of her French culture to the wedding by importing a considerable amount of French wines. She had confided in Diana about a strategic mission: to keep Fred and George from messing around with the wine. Diana had laughed at her friend, but she knew that she was right to worry. Even if he was forced to bed rest, George plotted countless new pranks with Fred. 

Diana knew it because she had been tasked by Molly to bring George some calming tea and clean his wound. The young witch felt proud that Mrs Weasley trusted her to take care of her son. She did not know if she trusted her medical abilities or if she wanted to set her up with George. Ginny and Hermione had told Diana about Mrs Weasley's nosy behaviour and her aggressive match-making. Diana smiled to herself. She had a slight crush on George, but it seems that for the moment, the young man was still stuck with his twin Fred.

When Diana brought George’s afternoon valerian decoction, Fred was by his side. 

The twins were laughing, and they looked lost in the inner world they created for themself. 

“Can I bring tea, or will I disrupt a 'we are taking over the world' team building session?” she proclaimed while entering the twins' room. 

“You will, my dear! You will and the world will be disappointed in you forever.” Fred laughed, launching himself at her tray to steal some cookies. 

“Fred! Those cookies are not for you.They are for your brother!”Diana reprimanded the red-haired boy. 

“They taste funny. What did you put in those?” Fred replied disgustedly. 

“I have no idea, Luna baked them for George.” Diana retained her laugh as Fred was on the verge of puking. George was crying and laughing. 

“You could have told me before! Wicked witch!” Cried Fred. 

“Life is punishing you for being a thief. I am the goddess of the moon. I have other important things to deal with.” She replied while placing George’s tea on the night table. 

“I will rinse that with some of the good wine my future sister in law brought,” Fred said while exiting the room. 

“Fred !” the blond witch yelled. “Do not do things you will regret later.” Diana was about to leave when George cleared his throat. 

“Don’t you want to stay a bit with your patient?” He asked with puppy eyes. 

“For what?” Diana asked bluntly 

“I do not know. Maybe we can converse like human beings? But that’s just a silly idea.” 

He joked. 

“Ok,” Diana simply added while sitting next to him. A heavy silence started to surround us, and the young witch started to grow awkward. At first, she really enjoyed their solo moment. George was witty and funny, and they could talk forever about everything. 

However, the last few times Diana had been alone with him, she felt his gaze upon her, and her heart could not stop beating fast. Even though she was on medical duty with him, she had tried to avoid at all cost to be alone with him. 

“I wanted to ask you.” George broke the silence with a husky voice. “Would you like to go as my date to the wedding?” A couple of seconds passed, and he added:” Nothing super serious or official, but Ron will go with Hermione, Fred with Angelina, and Ginny with Harry. I will be the only one without a date.”

Diana was not born yesterday; she knew he was trying to find excuses. She was terrified about his proposal, but she thought to herself that she had to try for once in her life. 

“I will be your date for the wedding.” She added. Shyly, “I just hope you are ready to listen to my rambling all night.” 

His eyes lit up with relief. The red-haired wizard had a genuine smile before adding, “I will give you my good ear for your rambling.” Diana laughed, but her heart was still troubled by a very intense rhythm. 

__________________________

The day of the wedding was a beautiful summer day. The sun was high in the sky, and a small breeze made the summer heat like a delightful breath of sunshine. Fleur was stunning in her simple white dress. Diana could not stop crying, and she was glad George and Luna, who were sitting next to her, provided the tissues. 

The ceremony was simple yet charming. While the sun was setting, the couple was married, grasping the last ray of sunshine and the first ray of moonlight. It was so very romantic, and Diana dreamt that one day she could have such a beautiful moment with her partner. 

At the diner, she was seated at Harry and Hermione's table. Sipping on the delicate French wine Fleur had brought to England. 

“The wine is very good!” Ron added a bit of redness due to the alcohol. 

“It is divine!” Added Hermione. “The wedding was beautiful!” 

“It was !” added Diana 

“By the way, all good accepting to be my brother's date, Diana?” Ron questioned with a hint of mischief. 

“It was easier than I thought.” The young witch chuckled.

“I bet !” the red-haired boy reacted, “George is not as flamboyant as Fred.”

“Goerge is flamboyant too !” Ginny interrupted. “Fred is crazy, that's different.”

“Is he? Maybe it runs in the family.” Joked Ron 

“What are you implying?” questioned the youngest Weasley. 

“Ok, I am out of here,” Harry said while standing up to leave the table. 

Harry knew well that Ginny had a temper, and Ron's awkward comments often led to Ginny's wrath. However, as soon as Harry stood up, a strong explosion blew the tables. 

Diana could see Harry’s fast reaction. He grabbed his wand and pushed Hermione outside the tents. 

Some diabolique laughter started to invade the space. Some flashes of green and red, most likely unforgivable curses, flew around. 

In the panic, Diana could see that Harry had left with Hermione and Ron. Professor Lupin was screaming some order to the people still present in the room. Diana was stuck as if life was going in slow motion. She was not able to move or act. She knew deep down that if she stayed there, she would get killed. 

Diana felt a hand grabbing her shoulders and push her outside. When she looked up, she recognized Fred's red hair. Diana realized that his hand was bloody. She quickly understood that the boy had protected her with his own body. 

“I am sorry!” she muttered when she finally managed to exit the tent. 

“No time, my dear, no time.”He panted “GEORGI!!!!! ANGI !!” 

Another explosion rang in Diana’s ear while Fred jumped on her to protect her. She was momentarily blinded. The young witch understood who had commanded the attack once a skull appeared as a storm in the sky. She could always smell fire and blood. Next to her, Fred was still screaming to locate his brother and girlfriend. The landscape looked like a war zone. The tent was ripped open, the house was burning like a torch in the night, and Diana’s anxiety grew. She had to locate Fleur and make sure her friend was alive and well. Tears started to well in her eyes, but the young witch tried to stay strong. George was right; she was not meant for the war. 

The silence came back in the middle of the fields as the dirty work from the Death Eaters was completed. Diana could feel Fred growing agitation when she heard a feminine voice reaching out to her. 

“Diana, thank god! You are ok!” It was Fleur. Her beautiful dress was stained with blood, but the blond witch still looked beautiful like those church icons. She promptly embarrassed Diana in a suffocating hug. Both of them were crying. 

“I am! Thanks to Fred. He saved my life. How are you? All this blood? Are you ok?”

Diana said in a panicked voice. 

“Not mine. The blood is not mine. I guess my dear Bill wanted to have his wife alive for our wedding night.” Fleur added sadly and then turned to Fred, who was still screaming for his brother and girlfriend.

“Fred, Angi, and Geogi are at the safe house already. Let’s go!” Fleur took the young wizard by the hand. He had not stopped panting, and he still looked like a wounded animal. He was wounded, Diana recalled. 

“Fleur, let me patch him. He will not be able to travel with this wound.” Diana commented. Her heart was still beating fast, but her brain had regained control. She knew that the next step would be training to avoid a similar fiasco. That night, she vowed to herself that she would never let anyone take the hit for her, and that she would make sure to not be a burden. 

Chapter Text

Narcissa was pacing in her office. On the desk, the horrible attack perpetrated at the Weasley residence was on the front page of the Prophet. According to the news, several guests had died during the wedding, and a couple more were badly wounded. In the article, the new Minister of Magic stated that it would be the punishment for anyone supporting mudblood and rising against the Dark Lord's wishes.  

Behind her perfectly made-up face, Narcissa was restless. She knew her daughter was there. She was in the list of the wedding invites being Fleur's best friend. The blond witch was appalled, she had to make sure Diana was alive without attracting the attention. 

She had tried to contact Isolde in a securised, but she realized that the war had broken down all the communication between Britain and the mainland.

Narcissa could not contact either McGonagal or Snape, and her dear cousin Serius had been murdered the year before by her sister. 

One last option opened to her. She had gifted an albino raven to her daughter for her 11th birthday. The bird was clever, and she knew how to locate him, as he had placed an enchanted ring on his leg. 

Narcisa smiled with delight. She was a very clever witch, and that thought she only helped her to survive the inferno, her husband had dragged her in. 

Outside of the lunatic now residing full-time on her estate, she had witnessed her son falling into a spiral of despair. Once the boy had taken the death mark, he still looked a bit like himself. She was afraid mostly for him, she thought, but he still looked like her little boy. However, over the year and after Dumbledore's death, his overall health had declined rapidly. He looked thinner than usual and was always sulking with the darkest of expressions. Narcisa could attribute Draco’s despair to the traumatic events he had to witness and live through at his young age, but she was not fooled by some obvious statement. She felt in her heart that something deeper was going on. On Draco’s birthday, the witch started an approach. 

“My dearest! What would be your wish for this year?” She asked once they were both in Narcissa's apartment. With the Dark Lord moving in, privacy was just an old souvenir in the ancestral estate. 

“Maybe a fast death,” Draco replied absentmindedly. 

“Do not joke like this with your mother, young man!” Narcissa replied irritably. If he wanted to play it like those rebel teenagers, she would not have it.

“I am not joking, mother.” He calmly added. “But if you want another idea, maybe a book on potion would do.” 

“What’s going on?”Narcissa asked while lovingly grabbing her son's hands.

“It is ok, mother, and I found it odd that after all this time, you want to have a heart-to-heart with me. Don’t you have family to visit?” He bitterly questioned. 

“Draco! What’s going on?” Narcissa knew he was petty like his father, and in that case, she should not react to his acid words. 

“I am tired. Mother, would you let me get some rest?” Draco looked horrible. He had hollow cheeks, dark circles, and Narcisa felt that his heart was broken. She allowed herself to dig deeper. For a teenager of his age, the heart topic was a sensitive matter, but she could not let go. 

“Is it about a lady?” She shyly inquired. Narcisa regretted immediately her question when Draco's shoulder seemed to drop under a thousand pounds. His eyes could not hide the sorrow that was eating his insides. However, the young boy kept his mouth firmly shut. 

He briefly looked at his mother as if he begged her to leave. Narcissa, heartbroken but compassionate, got her clue to let her son intimately deal with his internal battle. 

She felt her heart heavy, and she also felt frustrated at not being able to support him. She was a terrible mother, letting her son be drawn into a deep sorrow, and not being able to locate her daughter. 

Passing every day since the attack, next to her window, to maybe spot Diana’s albino raven to give her some news. Narcissa got rewarded when, on a stormy summer day, the raven abruptly landed in her rose garden. 

“Perce neige!” the blond witch cheered with relief. “Hope you are bringing me good news.”

The clever raven looked at her with cheekiness. Narcissa's hands were trembling when she opened the letter. 

“My dearest aunt, 

I am sorry, I could not write earlier to let you know that I was safe and sound. I was present on the night of the attack, and I got Fred wounded because of my stupidity. I was petrified with fear, and I would have most likely been killed if Fred had not launched himself to save me. Please know that I am doing fine. Despite all this, I will be returning to school this autumn. I can see from here your disgraced reaction. My dear aunt, I have made friends in Hogwarts, and war will not compromise my future. I want to continue my studies there, and Papa and Maman have already agreed. 

I would love to see you soon, and I am sorry I could not see you this year at your chateau for my birthday.   

I am sending you a big hug and some rose petals, and my mother told me they help with the sorrow. I hope you are doing well, and I wish the war is not taking a toll on you. 

Lovingly, 

D.R.”

Narcissa's anxiety got momentarily relieved until her daughter wrote that she would be returning to Hogwarts to study. She was so mad at Isolde for allowing her precious daughter to remain in peril that she almost broke her cup of tea on the wall. 

She wanted to write to the French couple to give them her peace of mind. However, all the letters from the house were monitored by the Death Eaters militia, and all the letters being sent abroad were censored by the Ministry. Narcissa was stuck in an impossible bagend. She was unable to send a letter to France to convince her friends to bring back Diana to Beau Batton, and she could not write a reply to Diana without looking suspicious. 

Heartbroken and hopeless, Narcissa did the only thing she could. 

In her garden, beautiful carnations grew like wild weeds. In her distress, Narcissa wrapped one of them around Perce Neige's claws. She hoped Diana would understand the message, and she prayed for her daughter to remain safe. 

Overall, the war had already taken so much from her, and the blond witch felt a wind of revolt growing in her heart. However, she was as patient as a wolf. She would wait until the right moment, and she would attack. Narcissa had made peace with her own death, but she would fight until her last breath to salvage her kids from that horrible nightmare. She only hoped that time would not play against her and her scheme. 

Chapter Text

As promised to her aunt Cissa, Diana resumed school at Hogwarts. It was a very strange back-to-school under the new dark lord's rule. 

The rules were strictly enforced. If students did not comply, they were punished severely. The new Headmaster, Sevrus Rogue, was a severe man and intended to keep it this way. Each night, the students had to return to their dorm in silence. It was forbidden to linger in the common rooms or to chat intensely during breaks. Focus was on studying the “revised curriculum,” a special, bigoted selection from Ombrige. 

Times were tough, but Diana could count on her newfound friends. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had left the school to pursue their quest to find a way to kill the Dark Lord. As promised, Neville, Ginny, Luna, and the rest of the crew attended Hogwarts to buy time. On top of the harsh rules, Diana and her friends had to undergo heavy scrutiny. 

Snape was suspicious, and he made sure to tail anyone who was acting a little bit out of line. Ginny and Neville were his top suspects, and Snape spent countless hours summoning them to his office. He also summoned Diana a couple of times. At first, the young witch was threatened. She dreaded being finally summoned into the infamous Snape meetings. However, she quickly found out that they were not that dreadful. He only made them sit at his desk for hours reading school material. It was a bit uncomfortable because the Headmaster refused to let them use the toilets, drink, or eat. 

They were often stuck in his office for 8-9 hours without being allowed to escape. 

It was uncomfortable, but it was not the end of the world. Professor Slughorn, who had kept his title as potion professor, was also more inclined to punishment. He also retained students for hours in his potion lab in order to produce potions for the new Dark Lord force. 

Diana started to regret her choices. Her mother was right, it would have been wiser to return to France, where the war had not started yet. 

Awake at times, the young witch contemplated her life. She had indeed made a bad choice. The young witch truly loved her friends and wanted to fight with them, but her heart was torn apart. In addition to the intense pressure she was receiving, the Death Eater dedicated to Hogwarts security bullied Diana. For them, she was “only” half blood, and she did not deserve to be here, as her blood was mixed. 

Diana was not sure about her status, as she had been adopted. Her adopted dad was a Muggle, and her adopted mother was a witch. The young witch had never asked herself about the status of her blood. Her adopted mother, Isolde, had told her that it did not really matter in the end. Her magical power was present and healthy, and it was the only thing that mattered. 

The intense scrutiny, the uneasiness of her decision, and the blood nonsense made Diana angry and rebellious. 

After the death eater attack, something had broken in her soul. She was no longer a child dreaming that the future would go smoothly. Diana had felt a deep-rooted fear that stained her insides. She thought she knew fear before, but seeing people killing others without any regret made her weary. 

Diana tried to keep a straight face, but she knew her features had hardened under the fear. She felt relieved in a way that Ginny, Neville, and the others were also undergoing such a transformation. 

The only one who maintained her composure and kept her normal behaviour was Luna. 

Luna did not change, as if the war had no grip on her psyche. She kept looking for some hidden creature, smiling at the school ghost, and wandering in the corridors alone at night. 

It was during one of these occasions that Diana’s life took a three hundred and sixty turn. 

---------------

The young witch was exiting a very intense “punishment” session. Diana only wanted one thing: to go back to her dorm to eat and sleep. The castle felt eerie at this moment of the night. The dampness of its old stone and the absolute silence made Diana uncomfortable. In the middle of the corridors, she spotted Luna barefoot, strolling carelessly very far away from the Ravenclaw dorm.

Rushing to grab her arm, Diana whispered. “Luna, dear, it is not the moment nor the place to be out. If the Carrows’ brother and sister see you, you will be punished.”

Alecto and Amycus Carrow now ran the castle's “security”, and anyone found during their watch ended up harmed, badly harmed. 

“Diana,” Luna said while reaching for Diana’s hand. “I felt that we would be reunited at that moment. The wandering soot told me you will be there with me.” 

Diana was trying very hard not to lose her temper. Luna was gentle, and her sense of wonder was beautiful, but it made her completely unconscious sometimes. 

“Luna, we need to go, NOW,” Diana whispered, but her last word was uttered loudly. As soon as her words echoed in the empty corridor, an uncomfortable chill filled the air. Some loud noise tore through the silence, and Diana could smell the bloody odor associated with the Carrow’s siblings. 

They were utterly screwed to remain polite. 

“Well, well, well.” one of the siblings launched. “Who do we have here wandering alone in the corridors?” It was Alecto who spoke. 

“Mrs Lovegood and Mrs Randal. The blondie club, it appears.” Alecto paused before approaching the two girls aggressively. 

“Sister!” Spoke Amycus. “Do you remember Mr Lovegood? How did he beg for the Dark Lord not to harm his precious little daughter?” 

Diana felt the fear grow in her. Eying Luna, she realized that her friend was calm and composed. Diana could not believe her eyes. Luna was either a very good actress and hid her fear like a pro, or she was completely insane. 

“I say, why not have this good old Lovegood begging! I will teach him a lesson to rub shoulders with the Order scums.” Alecto said while grabbing Luna by the elbow. 

“Oh my dear sister! What a wonderful idea! What will we do with Blondie number two? Collateral damage? Fun experiment?” the wizard said while rubbing his dirty palms on Diana's shoulder. The young witch was petrified and did not know how to react. 

“I would not kill someone who might know where the golden trio is !” pipped Luna. 

Diana felt stabbed in the back by such treason from Luna, but she quickly realized how strategic that statement had been. If the Carrow put some value in her, Diana would not be killed on the spot as the siblings were suggesting. Did Luna just save her life? 

“Does she?” Amycus purred in Diana’s ear. “In that case, let’s bring them both to the Manor for a friendly chat.” He laughed, pushing Diana and Luna to the nearest flow system. 

Diana looked at Luna, she still looked deadly calm. She even smiled at her. 

Diana understood that Luna had saved her life, but the dreamy witch did not save them from what awaited them at the manor. They were both thrown into a damp dungeon with little to eat and nothing to resist the harsh elements. In addition to the dire circumstances, a few days after their arrival, the torture began. It was light at first, with some physical violence and simple bullying to squeeze the truth out of her. However, one stormy day, a curly-haired witch happened. She had the craziest eyes, which represented her deranged state of mind. Bellatrix loved a good old torture session. She enjoyed sending Crucio spells to Diana, cutting her skin with various poisonous daggers. On a span of two days, the mad witch had tried the Legilimens curse countless times. 

Funny enough, Diana was immune to Legilimency because she got trained by her adopted mother and her aunt Cissa to resist it. This piece of information was missing to Bellatrix, which took the impossibility of reading Diana’s mind as a challenge. The young witch was drained of her blood and her vital energy, but her mind was occupied by a strong fire. Diana wanted to live so badly, and she was getting more and more upset at this absurd game Bellatrix and the Death Eaters were playing. Diana knew she was still a young witch, but she felt a powerful magic within her blood which she intended to use to get herself and Luna out of her. 

Chapter Text

Draco was the shadow of himself, but deep down someone was still there. His heart was shattered into pieces, but in a Frankenstein manner, he had pieced it back into a grotesque sculpture. He could not say he was not hurting, but he occluded like a madman to forget the pain and the fear. If he were honest with himself, he would have preferred to disappear from the face of the earth, but some strange feeling was keeping him alive. He hated to feel the spark still. A spark he did not know where it came from. His body was also strong. Draco was tortured daily to repent from his father's inefficiency, or to amuse his aunt. In the end, he was just pretending to suffer from all the curses to end the torture, but he was so numb that nothing felt like anything. 

Nothing felt real until Granger landed at the manor. Some snatchers had captured what they thought was the boy who lived. However, the wizard they had captured was so disfigured that they were not able to recognize him, so they had the great idea to bring Granger, Weaslbee, and what was surely Potter to the manor.

His crazy aunt summoned him to check on the boy, but Draco was not sure. Bellatrix was bloody crazy, a perfect psychopath, and Draco had trembled while he was identifying the boy. This hint left enough suspicion for the madwoman to throw the disfigured wizard to the dungeon. Draco knew that Luna and Diana were in the dungeon together with Olivander and some goblins. He had refrained from visiting them as he was so ashamed of what he had become, and he could not face his old classmate imprisoned and tortured in his home. Almost every night for two weeks, he had heard either Luna or Diana screaming in pain from Bellatrix's nightly games. Draco wanted in that instant that his mother was here to smooth his nerves and tell him everything would be ok. The spark he felt in his heart was the strongest during the screaming, and he could not understand why. 

As soon as Bellatrix evacuated Harry from the living room, she remarked that Granger was carrying a Godric Gryffindor sword.  The sword was, in theory, safely stored in Bellatrix’s gigantic vault in Gringotts. This discovery enraged Bellatrix in one of her maniac events. 

She threw Granger to the floor and started to rip her hair out, screaming at her face. 

Draco felt so numb, and he hated it. Hermione was crying in pain. Her eyes were begging him for help. His makeshift heart shattered again, and Draco could feel the warm blood dripping from it. He could also feel the blood in his mouth because he was biting his cheeks so violently that he had drawn blood. Narcissa positioned close to him, trying to hold it together, but Draco knew she felt as bad as him. His mother was just more skilled at hiding her feelings, and he sensed she was keeping a straight face to protect him. If Bellatrix saw his compassion for Hermione, she would kill him too and his mother did not want such an ending. Narcissa used all her strength to squeeze Draco's hand with the intent of stopping the boy from acting and potentially worsening the situation.

When Bellatrix pulled out her poisoned knife like it was her favorite Christmas present, Draco felt his body moving. He was a coward, but he had to act to put a stop to Granger's misery. However, it was quickly frozen in place when the Gryffindor witch started to scream. It was the most horrifying cry he had ever heard in his life. He killed before, so he knew how people's pain cries ripped one’s heart. How their eyes injected in blood and full of fear would engrave in one’s brain. However, Hermione's cries were different. His heart shattered, but it seemed that her pain was tearing out its pieces even more.  Draco realized that the sound was emitted because his crazy aunt was carving something into her arm. Blood was running splashing the wooden floor. In this surreal moment, Draco could admit that he was fascinated by the color of her blood: It was the same as his. Her pain was the same as his, her cries were the same as his, and she most probably would die like he would. Draco prayed that if she had to die, she would go peacefully, and he vowed himself to go right after her. When the cries started to be unbearable and Hermione slowly started to lose consciousness, Bellatrix announced:

“Greyback, Bring me the other little bitch. The more, the merrier. I will make a two-body work of art with my beautiful knife, and those mudblood/half mudblood things .” The witch added nearly in a trance. Greyback grumbled something to which she replied: “Of course, You would be able to play with the bodies after I am done. Now, be a good dog. Chop chop !” 

Some long minutes passed before Diana appeared in the room, dragged like a bean bag by Greyback. Draco was glad he had not made an effort to see her before. She looked disheveled, her clothes ripped and torn with some old blood-stained, and her face full of scares. However, Draco was shocked by her grey eyes. They were stormy, and she still held his gaze like a challenge. She was alive as if being alive was a gigantic thumbing in Bellatrix’'s nose. 

“Ahh! the Blondie! She is tough this one.” His crazy aunt laughed. 

Draco could see Hermione's horrified eyes when she saw Diana. Diana had a similar expression, but her eyes melted with anger.  Draco was not sure how, but he could feel Diana’s wrath. It did not feel like Granger fire. Diana’s anger was cold and violent like a storm. He could not hold the weird feeling that grew in his chest.

“Well! Let’s start, Greyback leaves us for a moment, would you? It is only for family entertainment. Cissy, do you want me to wait for the tea to brew?” Bellatrix mocked. 

A couple of minutes passed with Bellatrix hysterically laughing and dancing around the two young witches. Draco could feel his mother's anger bubbling in her chest: Cold and Violent. 

“No!” His mother replied with a cold and hard stare. Something was wrong, Draco felt. It felt wrong. He could not understand why, but his mother’s stare looked terribly familiar. 

“Because you are not part of the Malfoy family, so I reckon you should also leave!” Added Narcissa harshly. Before Bellatrix could not react, Narcissa pulled out her wand to simply pronounce: “Petrificus totalus.” 

Draco could not believe his eyes when Bellatrix fell on the floor like a dead tronc. In a horrifying calm, his mother then proceeds to obliviate his aunt and summon the free house elf: Dobby. 

“Draco, dear, do not stay like this, and help Mrs Granger to stand.” Narcissa was still very tranquil. 

His mother immediately reached Diana, who was still trembling in fear next to Hermione. 

Narcissa's eyes were full of warmth, and the anger melted in a beautiful motherly stare. The one he would have wished to receive a couple of hours before. 

“Aunt Cissa !” cried Diana falling into Draco’s mom's open arms. 

“My dearest, we do not have time,” Narcissa said sweetly embracing the blond witch. 

“If I would have known, I would have come earlier. I am so sorry, my darling. I am so sorry.” His mother said while hugging Diana even stronger than before, and cajoling her. 

Draco had no time to question his mom's behavior now. He had to tend to Granger who was still bleeding on the office floor. He murmured a couple of first-aid spells while the young witch tried to regain her bearing. The contact of her cold skin burned Draco’s skin. Her blood on the floor felt like it was screaming what a failure he was. 

The moment with Hermione was fleeting, and Draco could hear some footsteps approaching. It was Potter and the prisoner band. As predicted, the annoying red hair pushed him from Granger's side with unprecedented strength. Draco was still so moved that he did not react and fell to the floor in Granger's blood like a mannequin. He was about to spit some horrible words when Narcissa interrupted them. 

“Mr Potter. We do not have time. Take everyone and leave.” She commended. “Diana, my love, I beg you to stay away from the conflict. You suffered too much already.” She paused while kissing the crown of the witch's head. “Now chop chop! Maybe one last point. Mr Potter, please hex me in the leg and knock my son down so we can make this convincing.” 

She promptly added. Draco only had the time to scream: “No”. He was knocked out by Potter. Slumber felt oddly liberating, but the funny feeling he had felt earlier only brought unanswered questions and a strong uneasiness. 

Chapter Text

For the first time in months, Draco's sleep was not disturbed by nightmares. He could thank Potter for his spectacular spell. However, when he woke, his mind started to ignite again, and he was assaulted with questions.
Why did his mother react this way? Why did Diana call her “Aunt”? How can his mother pull such a stunt? Did they remain unnoticed? Was his mother part of the Order? Who was Diana?
Draco woke up in his bed with some ray of sunshine picking through the window. He was visibly unharmed and not restrained,d which was a good sign. Detailing the room, he remarked that his mother was drinking tea while looking outside with melancholy.
“Mother!” he said in a husky voice.
“Mon dragon!” she cried while reaching his side promptly.
Draco was still surprised at how his mother could be that composed and calm. Her make-up and hair were impeccable. Her leg was bandaged, hiding a staged injury as a testimony of her plan with Potter. He could not believe it. Above all, he needed answers now, or his psyche would implode.
“I need answers. Would you give them to me now?”Draco managed to utter. His mother searched his eyes. Her eyes were shining with an uncanny glow. Draco realized in a shock to whom his mother's eyes reminded him. Narcissa's eyes were not grey, but they had this stormy glow. They hide this strong will to live and a tempest ready to unleash itself. Draco felt stunned by this realization.
He had to ask his mom to be sure. He needed to know why those eyes bothered him so much.
“Who is she?” He asked, but he already knew who Diana was. Her grey eyes, Her white icy hair, the contempt she could have some days, the shape of her nose, the way she stood her head high, the way she mastered potion like a second nature. He always felt bothered by her. Her stare annoyed him. It annoyed him because her beautiful, stormy eyes were the same as his. Her arrogance which had angered him so much when they first met was the same as his. Her mastery of herbs and potion-making was as excellent as him. She was oddly familiar. The cold anger she had against Beatrix reminded him of the undying spark he had in himself. He could not believe it he had been so blind. She was in front of him with her head held high and her stare telling him that he was an idiot. Draco felt his stomach pitting, and he reached to grab his mom's wrist.
“WHO IS SHE?” He repeated loudly. It was too emotional at the same time. Seeing Hermione nearly dead on his floor and finding Diana. His mom had tears in her eyes. The same stare as Diana had The same spark Diana had.
“Why are you asking me?” she asked with her trembling voice. “You are a clever one, my dear. You already know.”
“She is the one you were always going to see. She is the “distance” relative, right?” He asked, feeling his heart harden.
“She is.” Narcissa could not hold back sobs.
“Why? Why didn't you tell me?” he paused. He started to lose his patience. He felt anger rising in him, and he did not at what he was angry. His mother hiding such a big secret or his mother abandoning him to see HER.
“WHY!” He spat completely unhinged. “WHO KNOWS? AM I THE ONLY ONE IN THE DARK AGAIN? THE GUY WE LEAVE BEHIND BECAUSE HE IS NOT ENOUGH TO KNOW THE TRUTH.” He could not keep the sob from coming out. He felt so broken but happy at the same time. For the first time in his life, he was not alone. He had another person to suffer with and to confide in.

“My love!” his mother tried to keep her calm. “No one knows! not even her.” He looked at his mother in silent tears that ran crazily down his cheeks.
“No one knows because no one can know. I am the only one who knows who she is. She is this family’s most precious jewel. She should be hidden like the most precious gems. I am sorry, my dragon. I am the worst mother, I have separated you for her.”

Draco felt the immense sorrow his mother had to carry on her shoulder. Narcissa had to keep this secret for all those years tearing her heart in the process. He felt like an idiot for having lost his temper. His mother had always kept an impassive mask of the perfect pure-blood wife, and he could not fathom the pain she had to endure for the family.

“There’s a prophecy.” She added between two sobs. “No one needs to know about it, or she will be in danger. Secrecy will protect her.”
“Tell me,” Draco added with the plainest voice he could summon.
“No, I carried it all those years. I cannot risk it even with you my dear.” She added sadly.
“Diana is my sister.” Draco felt weird saying it out loud.”Let me help you protect her. I am a skilled Occuluman. I can take it on me. You should not carry it alone anymore.”
“It will be too much for you. You are already a shadow of yourself. I cannot have you carrying it on your shoulder.” Narcissa lamented.
“You will. Mother. Allow me to help you! To help the family.” Draco's anger had left. Knowing that Diana existed added a new hope in his life. He was not alone anymore. He had someone with him forever. Diana would maybe not see him as a failure.
“Diana was cursed with the most horrible curse.” his mother added while regaining her chair next to the window. “She would be the mother that carries the millennia’s most powerful wizard.” Draco's heart dropped so low in his ribcage that he was not sure he kept beating.
“No!” he gasped, horrified. His mother's face was distorted in a painful expression.
“All those years, you tore the family apart, and you kept to yourself for that reason. Because of that mad man,” He remarked.
“Believe me when I say that I had no other choice. If the dark lord would have known, he would have fetched her at the youngest of the age. He is so twisted !” Narcissa looked like she tried to conjure some horrible visions out of her mind.
“Why did you accept her to attend Hogwarts? and stay in England even if we are at war ?”
Draco asked completely out of words.

“Dumbledore promised me she would be safe. He made an unbreakable vow, but now he is dead.” She bitterly added. Draco felt so guilty about being indirectly responsible for Dumbledor's death, and indirectly depriving Diana of protection.
“but he does not explain why she is staying in England ?” He reflected.
“She is like your dad. She is as stubborn as a mule. I discussed with her foster family to convince them to bring her back to France, but she managed to talk them out of it.”
His mother looked slightly annoyed at the young Gryffindor, and Draco could understand. Diana had proven to be stubborn and some days narrow-minded. He thought that’s why she was getting along so well with Granger.
“Mother, I promise that I will be there for my sister. Let me take that burden from you!” Draco was determined to not fail this mission and to make his mother happy.
“My dearest!” his mother said while hugging him. “I am not asking you to take the burden off my shoulders. I am your mother. I will endure for you both, my two precious jewels. I wish you both to reunite one day and think about me.”
“Mother!” Draco felt so helpless, but also so hopeful to one day reunite with his sister and create a link. Maybe dying was not the most obvious choice for him.
“Let’s go!” she said. “Love is more important than anything. I hope you will understand it someday.” Narcissa left Draco alone with his thoughts and this fresh revelation. He had a sister, he was not alone. He will forever march the same path as someone else: Diana Malfoy.

Chapter Text

After their great escape from the Malfoy Manor, Diana, Harry, Luna, Ron and a very injured Hermione lended on a sandy beach in the south of the country. 

Diana felt her limb sore from the intense torture, and her scars still fresh with some of them infected. However, the most important was Hermione who was still bleeding abondanly from her arm. Ron was surrounding her like a worried mother. Diana had heard from Parvati that Ron had broken up with Lavender which explained his possessive behavior with Hermione. 

Harry was helping the old Olivender to stand in order to reach the safehouse. The safe house was nested in the moorland surrounded by gentle hills of sand. Diana felt she had seen this place before. She could see some human figure rushing to their location. 

“Luna, are you ok my dear?” Diana launched. 

“I had seen better days, but I am alive. I am glad we reached the Shell cottage.” The blond ravenclaw answered. 

Shell cottage ! Fleur had mentioned the place to her in one of their letters. Diana had no time to think further once she was squeezed into a tight embrace. She recognized the person right away. The patchouli smell had given Fleur away. 

“Diana ! J'étais si inquiète. Tu ne peux pas t’imaginer.” (Diana! I was so worried ! You cannot imagine.) Fleur's tone was slightly mad. 

“Fleur, je suis navrée. Je vais bien. Hermione needs support tho, she is injured.” (Fleur, I am so sorry. I am doing well.)
Billy arrived shortly after his wife, and helped Ron to bring Hermione to the house. Diana felt heartbroken to always be a worry for Fleur. 

“Fleur!” Diana said while sprinting toward the blond. “I am sorry to be such a burden for you. I was captured one night, and Luna lied to save my life. I feel dumb. I was not careful enough.” 

“I am not mad at you, Diana. I was worried to death over those past weeks. I care for you, and I am appalled that you had to live such a traumatic experience.” Fleur said while grabbing Diana’s hand. The movement scared the Gryffindor witch as her arms were full of scars from her past encounter with Bellatrix. Diana promptly avoided Fleur grip which resulted in the French witch shock.

“What's going one?” Fleur asked with concern.

“We got tortured by Bellatrix, Fleur.” explained Luna. “Diana heavily due to her faculty to protect her mind which by the way it's impressive. Maybe you can summon the wandering soot or not, because I feel that someone is there. Oh well ! George is coming.”

Diana felt a bit weak, but in the blurriness of her gaze she could distinguish George and Fred rushing to help them. Hermione was carried by Ron and Harry. Fleur had forced Diana to lean on her. Every steps became complicated, and Diana fought hard to keep her footing. However, once George arrive, she could not even ear his voice, as the darkness invaded her vision.

—‐—------------

Diana woke up in a neatly decorated room. She understood that they had carried her back to Fleur and Bill's shell cottage. Her room had beautiful pale blue curtains giving on a rond window to the ocean. Diana could hear the waves. The sun indicated that it was early morning which meant that she had passed out for couple of hours. Sore but able to stand without fainting, Diana made her way down the stairs to what it seems was the kitchen. 

At first glance, the kitchen looked empty, but Diana could sens a presence. In a small adjacent dinning room, George was sipping tea. 

“It's muggle whiskey.” He said looking at Diana still going down the stairs.

“It's a bit early.” Diana surprised herself with a raspy voice. 

“It's tea then.” George smilled. “I told you, you were not meant for war.” He added the smile evaporated from his features.

“George, it's a bit late to give this opinion, and you cannot judge without knowing the full story.” The young witch was annoyed. She got captured by mistake. George had the arrogance to comment on something she was not responsible for. 

“Nonetheless, the results are here ! You are full of scars, and I'm not even sure that you are still sain due to the intense torture.”

Diana blood started to boil. She had to contain herself. Since her time at the Malfoy's mansion, an intense anger started to build into her stomach. She was outrage about all  this nonsense.

After a pregnant pause, she shot a death stare to George saying: “I prefer when you were funny.”

She left to the outside to calm her nerves on the never ending land. The sea breeze was cool on her skin. George was right again, but Diana had to admit that she felt proud of surviving those couple of weeks. She felt that the anger within her blood was meant for something. Seated on the sand, the blond witch contemplated the morning light, and felt grateful to be alive even if war was raging.

Lost in her thoughts, she could not hear George approaching.

“The sun will be out soon.” He spoke, surprising Diana out of her slumber. 

“I wish to be alone.” She replied coldly not looking at her.

“Hear me out Diana ! I'm sorry, my words hurted you. I still believe that you are not meant for war. I say it out of concern. Only two weeks imprisoned, and you are already bruised and cutted.” He blunted out. 

“However, I am not meant for war either. None of us are. We are just kids wandering in the shadows of the adult limbs. Again please accept my apologies for my harsh words.”

Diana turned her gaze to the red hair. His words looked sincere, as a veil of sadness clouded his looks.

After some long minutes, Diana spoked.

“It's ok. I'm not proud of my jail time but I feel I did pretty good at surviving so far. Crucio curse is like having my periods.”

She intended to joke, but George did not react.

“Do not joke with that. It fucked you up pretty good.” George added with a harsh tone.

“Yes, but I'm alive and that's all that matters to me. Luna is also alive, so it turned out ok.”

Diana commented. 

“I'll let you think what you want” added the red hair while sitting next to her. 

“I brought tea. Would you want some?” He said while giving her a cup.

“With pleasure, dear.” She said will grabbing the cup.

“Now we are back to dear?” George asked playfully.

“Do not make me regret it.” Diana joked.

Both stayed until the sun was high in the sky.

They sat in silence listening to the waves. Diana and Goerge had found a type of agreement, which made Diana smilled.

She knew that more struggle would come her way, but with Goerge by her side, she felt safe. The young witch kept on looking at the water wondering if the sea would be whispering some untold truth.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Diana was sipping tea at the shell cottage kitchen counter when Hermione arrived carrying travel gear. 

“Already leaving. Ain't you ?” Asked Diana. 

“Yes,” replied Hermione while stuffing gear into her tiny purse. 

“It is illegal to have an extension curse like this one. Non?" Diana inquired with a falsely candid tone. 

“I do not see what you are talking about?” Hermione pipped. 

“Then in that case,” Diana took a pause. “I would like to acquire such a bag.” Hermione looked somehow shocked, but she started to search in her extended bag. After long minutes, Diana looked at her friend with disbelief. Hermione pulls out a cotton tote bag with some dark character: “British museum”. 

“Here you go. It is a lovely and absolutely normal muggle grocery bag.” The brown-haired witch smiled. 

“It is indeed.” Laughed Diana. 

“What naughty business you guys are conducting here?” Interrupted Fred while grabbing an apple and sitting on the counter. 

“Girls' secrets!” Launched Hermione. 

“Girls' secrets! Come on! Hermione! You can do better than this.” The red-haired twin teased. Hermione was about to reply to Fred's teasing when Diana interrupted.  

“Fred, Where is Ginny? and Goerge for that matter?”

The young wizard sighted before adding: “The Order sent them yesterday for a quick resupply mission, according to what Goerge told me. They shall be back in a couple of hours. How nice is it to experience calm without Goerge following you around Diana and Ginny being all lovey-dovey with Mr. Potter.” Fred added to his statement with a fake sour smile. 

“Glad Ginny is not here to listen to you, Fred.” Laughed Hermione. “You would have been dead by now.” 

Diana added, in a falsy menacing tone: “ You mister, are spreading very dangerous assumptions. George and I are friends. ok?” 

“Do friends watch the sunrise every day together and embrace themself? I think not !”

Fred teased. 

“Come on!” cried Diana while getting closer to Fred to throw her counterargument. 

Hermione separated them while adding: “Sorry to interrupt the brother-in-law-sister-in-law conflict, but I am leaving in a couple of minutes, and I have to finish packing.” 

Both Diana and Fred shooted daggers at the brightest witch of her age. 

Although it felt only like teasing, Diana felt that Fred was not really teasing. It is true that she had been very close with George those days. The war intensified the feeling and magnified attractions. She could deny that her feelings toward the red-haired boy were not all purely amical. She felt safe with George, and he made her laugh and understood. Diana shakes her head as if she is shaking her though. She could not fall in love with anyone. It was war, and even if Fleur had the strength to get married, Diana was not that strong and could not fathom losing her beloved in the war. Lost in her thoughts, she just went out to the land to feel the fresh air on her face and in her hair, abandoning Fred and Hermione in the kitchen. 

_____________

The day went by slowly. The only event of the day was Hermione and her crew's departure. Hermione embraced Diana before leaving. 

“Take care! and stay alive.” She launched like a prayer. 

“You too. My dear!” Diana said, feeling her stomach pit. She had no certitude to see Hermione alive again. 

In the late hours of the night, Diana was busing herself in the kitchen preparing some herbal remedies to replenish her stock. 

Fred came to sit in silence at the counter to look at her. Diana felt a bit observed, so she started to comment on her protocol. 

“I am preparing a balm with some arnica blossoms for bruises. They are delicate, and you need to make sure the oil is not too strong.” 

Fred was sometimes reacting with some “mmhh” and “Ahh ok”. Diana felt that he wanted to be there not for herbal preparation but to be with someone. She sensed that he was missing his brother. He was also worried about his sibling out on a mission. 

Diana offered him rose tea to smooth his beating heart and help him wait in better conditions. She felt proud of herself until something crashed in the living room, breaking their comfortable silence. The “something” was someone. It was George covered with filth and dried blood. His face was like the one of a wild animal being hunted. He was panting, and his movements were herating. 

“They took her!” he cried in a husky voice. 

Fred and Diana were directly by his side. 

“Who? Who did they take Georgi?” Said Fred with all the calm he could summon. 

“GINNY” George could cry before collapsing to the floor like an unanimated mannequin.  

Fred looked completely helpless. Diana felt her “survival mode” ignite within her. 

“Ok. George, what do you remember?” She felt bad for pushing George, who was visibly shaken. 

“They talked about a prophecy or something. They are dragging her to Malfoy Manor for interrogation.” He managed to breathe. 

“We need to rescue her before it is too late,” concluded Fred. 

“Wait. Fred! We cannot take this decision. We should inform the order and your parents. We cannot go like that on a whim. They will kill us.” Diana started to panic a bit because her brain seemed to agree with Fred in leaving for a rescue mission. 

“Scourify!” launched George to clean himself. “Fred, pack your bag and find Dobby. We go now.” George said, looking like he had regained his strength in a magical manner. Diana felt they were pulling the same stunts as in the fourth year by adding alcohol to the punch. However, the stunt was not at all the same level. This one involved death or worce. 

“Guy! We cannot!” Diana tried to stop them in vain. 

“It is our baby sister, and it is my fault. I would jump into fire for her.” George added, in an uncharacteristic cold tone. 

“You do not have a plan.” Diana tried to augmentate while Fred came back into the living room with Dobby. 

“He does.” Said Goerge pointing Fred with his chin. 

“Fuck!” Said Diana holding her head. What would Hermione have done in that situation? She felt hopeless, but she could not let the boy endanger himself without her. 

“I am coming with you. You would need a healer, and I know the manor very well.” Diana finally breathed. She thought that George would react badly to her statement, but he might have been so desperate that he simply replied: “Ok!”

“What’s the plan?” Diana asked before they gathered around Dobby to teleport there. 

“Follow my flow. It is too dangerous to give you all the details if we get captured.” Fred added five seconds to teleport to the manor. Diana had vouched to herself never to come back to that horrible place but seems that destiny liked to torture her. She prayed to see the morrow, holding her lavender pouch sewed to her robe. 

Chapter Text

Diana and the twins landed in a cellar in what they guessed was the Malfoy’s manor main house. The young witch felt a surge of panic gripping her bones. She was not an oracle like some of her classmates, but she could sense it was a terrible idea. Yet she kept a straight face before asking Fred: “What’s next?”

Fred was listening to the door to make sure no one was in the corridor. He handed over a whiskey flask to Diana and Goerge. She could not believe her eyes. She had trusted the twins with her life and volunteered to help them in those dire circumstances, and Fred planned to get drunk. She wanted to face-palm herself for the horrible decision she had made recently. She felt that destiny in the same manner as a hurricane wind was hurling her forward. Diana felt the need to hide in a dark corner somewhere, but once again Diana's survival instinct kicked in. She would trust Fred's plan and exit this hell house as fast as she came in. 

When Diana raised her gaze toward the twins, she was met with two pairs of interrogating eyes. 

George tried to laugh discreetly. “You truly believe we will get drunk on such an occasion. Come one!” 

Diana whispered in an exasperated tone: “You cannot judge me for thinking that way. Your brother just pulled out a flask of whiskey.” 

“Oww, my dear! That!” said Fred while raising the flask. “That’s our masterpiece. It is called Absolut Vortex. It is our only invisibility potion. We learned from our failed attempt in the fourth year, and that sexy genius here made a batch that is chef kiss.”

Diana did not feel relieved at all, but she simply grimaced at the boys and drank the liquid. It was acrid, and the girl nearly puked. However, she had to admit that the potion had worked as she was seeing neither Fred nor Goerge. 

She only saw the cabinet door opening itself and one of the twins whispering: “Let’s go straight at the end of the hallway and into the dungeons. Diana lead the way. We follow you.”

“How can you follow me if you do not see me!” she whispered in the apparent void. 

“I'll tell you later, Mrs Moon goddess.” one of them said while pecking her cheek. 

“George!!” She could only protest. She knew it was him. Trying to regain her bearing, Diana led the way down to the dungeons which she escaped from a couple of weeks back. The air was damp and heavy with the smell of death. Diana squeezed her lavender pouch to give herself courage but could not stop her heart rate from rising uncontrollably. She stopped in front of the wooden door, and she felt the twins' energy surrounding her. 

“It’s here.” She breathed. 

“Ok then follow me. We enter. We pick her up, and we fly back. Dobbies knows the instructions. Guys do not look back if anything happens to any of us, just follow the plan.” A voice added which she knew was Fred. 

“Roger that.” Replied George

“Well, I have no other choice,” said Diana in the driest tone. 

“Showtime!” Said Goerge while pushing the wooden door. 

Diana's eyes took a couple of seconds to adapt to the light. Her nose adapted first to a pungent metallic odor: Fresh blood. When she looked at the floor, she saw a river of blood and some spare body part. The place had changed in a couple of weeks. She wanted to scream, to puke, to leave all at the same time, but she remembered that the potion she drank was not masking her voice. She also realized with horror that the place was full of hooded people with silvery masks. With the blood, the candles, and this weird crowd, Diana felt she had landed in some type of cult. Quickly, she tried to localize her friend. When Diana saw a spark of red hair in her vision, her stomach dropped so low. Ginny looked unconscious on an altar, barely dressed and full of blood. Next to her was standing a tall man in dark robes. He was the only one not wearing a mask. His face was pale as death. He had shark teeth and the meanest of the gaze. Diana understood quickly that this guy was the leader and the unfamous Darklord: Voldemort. A cold chill transpearced her bones until her vision got black. 

Diana checked herself she did not faint, but yet she could not see anything. People were shouting, and she felt a hand grabbing her to lead her toward the altar. 

“Fast!” she heard a whisper in her ear.

When they reached Ginny, she could barely touch her friends because a powerful light projected her and the twins in the air. 

She could not even understand the spell. The result was that her libration squad was surrounded by the hooded figure. 

The Dark wizard from which emanated the spell looked at them with his small evil eyes before laughing. 

“Well my friends, our entertainment has arrived.” 

Diana felt helpless as she was dragged toward the Dark Lord. The death eater holding her pushed her to bring her to her knees. The fresh blood on the floor stained her pants, and nausea reached her throat. When she locked eyes with the snake like a dark wizard, she felt as if she was falling from a cliff. She could not even scream when her body crumbled to the floor, tasting the blood in her mouth and the fresh blood that was flowing on the floor.