Bride of the HP Dragon

As Narcissa stood in the showroom of Madam Malkin's robe shop, watching Draco in his Hogwarts robes, the mother looked tearful.

The hem of the reserved robe is a bit too long and needs to be lifted.

Draco watched his mother's reaction in the mirror, standing right behind him, and suddenly Draco wished his mother would stay home.Goyle's dad had volunteered to take the boys back to school shopping, but Narcissa insisted on accompanying Draco herself.After all, this was the last time the two saw each other before Draco started his first year at Hogwarts.

Narcissa Malfoy wasn't a very good company for going to places like Diagon Alley.Goyle's dad is like a fairy-tale ogre, but he's no fool when the situation calls for it.He would throw "exploding ants" at the feet of Muggles, for example, and Muggles are a bunch of people who are bound to be dumbfounded at everything.

Narcissa, on the other hand, was worried about the sun, too many Muggles, the crowds, meeting people she didn't want to meet, like Mrs. So-and-so at tea last Sunday, and that sort of thing.

But she still had to be with her son, so she smiled fondly at him and picked up a loose thread from the black fabric of his robe.

She masks her sentimentality with a sharp assessment: "At the same age, you're not as tall as your dad was, but I think you've had enough time to reach the mark."

Draco sincerely hoped so, so he wouldn't be two heads shorter than Goyle, but as tall as Pansy Parkinson.In Malfoy's bloodline, short stature has long been rejected.

And giggles too.

"What's left on the list?" his mother asked.

Draco remembered that the list was hidden in the back pocket of his trousers, he took out the list and opened it, and the mother and son studied the last two items.

"I haven't bought an owl or a wand yet," Draco said.

Narcissa nodded: "Your owl is ready, your father chose it himself. His name is Pietro, and he is a very good owl."

Of course the bird would be fine, Lucius didn't know what "inferior" meant.Draco knew he wasn't allowed to pick owls, and the tiny fire in his heart was extinguished.He was even going to take a little joy at the possibility of getting a cat, but now the results were obvious.He will demand a safe and secure means of communication with his parents, which a school owl cannot provide.

Then there was only one thing left to do, Draco changed his school robes, Narcissa paid Madam Malkin, and they crossed the road with their shopping bags, heading straight to Ollivander's wand shop. , where his mother parked directly outside the shop.

The breeze and the walk had exposed strands of blonde hair in Narcissa's perfect bun, and she tucked the loose strands behind her ears.His mother was probably the most beautiful witch Draco had ever seen.Not the kind of vibrant flamboyance, like Blaise Zabini's mother, but a beauty that you can only take a step back to appreciate.Her facial features are almost ordinary when separated, but together, they seem to be blessed with perfection.

"Draco, come here."

He did, and she smoothed Draco's already smooth hair and straightened Draco's ironed collar with a touch of thoughtfulness that reminded Draco that there was nothing motherly about her actions.

Everything, from the preparation of the meals when you come downstairs to the nightgowns you place by the bed in the shower, is made by the servants of the manor.

"Mother..." he grumbled as Narcissa touched his cheek with her long, fragrant fingers.

Thank goodness Goyle's family is still in Lihen Bookstore, Goyle's dad won't know from Greg.There was still a bit of baby fat on his face, which Draco didn't like.

"The wand means many things," Narcissa explained, somewhat breathlessly. "Draco, the wand means you've grown up. You were born a wizard and a Malfoy, and you've got to earn those titles yourself. Your father and I Expectations are high from you and you have made us proud without a doubt."

"As long as I end up in Slytherin House." He emphasized that if his father gave him a Galleon every time he brought up Sorting, Malfoy's fortune would have doubled.

She raised her eyebrows: "Honey, Slytherin is not the end, but the birth."

Her tone was not open to questioning, so he simply said, "Yes, mother."

"Now, after we've bought your wand, what are you going to do? We've got an hour to spare."

Draco's mood suddenly brightened, and he happened to notice that his mother looked a little sad: "Really? We can do anything?"

She smiled: "Anything can be done."

"Ice cream, too?" He knew she didn't like the crowd at Florin's Soda, full of kids and parents.

"Yes," Narcissa agreed, touching her son's cheek, "let's go get some ice cream."

During the first period of time when people wake up, they sometimes forget where they are and what happened until they wake up.

Draco experienced a feeling of "nothingness", and he opened his eyes to find himself warm and comfortable, and these are the things he cares about most in this particular moment.

Then he remembered.

It wasn't grief, grief was better than the guilt he felt right now.Guilt is funny, and grief is boring, but guilt is a real, constant force.Draco squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the immeasurable, invisible weight of reality weighing on him.He wanted to pull the sheet up over his head and lie there until the nightmare passed on its own.

He wants to believe that it's years before he grows up, and that the problems he's facing now will wait until he's damn ready to face them.Draco sighed, he couldn't escape reality, couldn't escape the following things that had happened in the past two weeks:

He is threatened with a dangerous assignment by the Ministry of Magic.

His mother was murdered.

A cousin Oro whom he knew but hadn't met disappeared, less than two days after meeting him.

The Death Eaters apparently did it for his sake, and last, but not least, he married Hermione Granger.

Marcus Flint, the former Slytherin Quidditch captain, kept saying that Draco was better, stronger and more focused every time he was at the bottom of the game.

Now this is no different.

He eventually got up, grimacing because his head was heavy, but his sanity was clear and the headache would resolve with a trip to the infirmary.It was important to move forward, and if he stopped to imagine his mother dying, he would... he would...

Draco swallowed the dryness in his throat.No, he won't think about it, he can't.Solving the mystery would be dangerous, and he was exhausted and his shoulder hurt, which meant he had slept on it for too long.

Merlin, he felt like an old man looking forward to a long, relaxing vacation without anyone to interrupt him, target him, dislocate his shoulder, make him fall in love or murder his family.

The only ones he had left now were Lucius and Tory, their loyal remaining house-elves.

The irony was that his father was probably the safest place in the entire wizarding world.Meanwhile, Tory had magic to protect himself, and none of Voldemort's minions would have believed Draco's feelings for an old elf.

The rest is Granger, she's family now too, isn't she?

The evil already knew about them, Draco was sure.He wanted to speak to Potter about it, and there was no doubt that the boy who didn't even have a comb knew about Narcissa's death.

After all, Snape's mention of his death had been published in the papers, so it must have been known.Draco knew Harry wasn't the type to gloat, and that really made it feel better.But finding an excuse to punch Potter in the face would make him feel better, but Draco knew the response he'd get from Harry would only be sympathy.

And sympathy, but he can't bear it.

Draco realized that there was not much left in him to escape from being isolated from the world, and self-compassion was something he'd never wanted to wallow in, even though he found it very tempting.

Damn, he wanted Hermione.Where the hell is she?Why is she not with him?Isn't it her duty?For those she cares about, shouldn't a girl like Hermione take care of him, pamper him, or use something soft and fluffy to take away his pain?

But as soon as he had the idea, he got the answer.If they weren't at Hogwarts, he'd be free to take her to bed and lie there for a week as atonement for the trouble he'd put in his own life.She could be with him and watch him wake up.She can touch him, kiss him, distract him.He could see the pain in her clear brown eyes, because he knew with absolute certainty that he couldn't bear to see the same pain in his own.

Draco thus avoided the small mirror on the desk, it was his last formal day at school, and when he put on his school trousers, he was only annoyed by the crumpled trousers.

Then he put on his tie, still not feeling the poignancy he thought he should feel.He decided that all he could give at the moment was passion.

He had made a decision when he left Snape's office last night.

This is not a difficult choice, but a difficult task.Draco didn't have confidence in the so-called fairness of the Ministry of Magic. What he wanted was real justice, and he didn't want that kind of bureaucracy and the standards of the Wizengamot.

He wants revenge, that's all he can think of, it's the last thing he can do for his own mother.

God, it's going to be tough.He has no combat training except the joke dueling club.He has brains, reflexes, a vast knowledge of unconventional spells, and witchcraft.He was still a Malfoy, undoubtedly possessed of a natural gift for doing bad things, was that enough?

It didn't matter, he could find his mother's killer, and he'd investigate it himself, even if it took years.

They dared to touch his mother, and he felt a new pain, suspicion mixed with anger.Imprisonment is one thing, assassination is another.

It was his father's fault, the pathetic bastard couldn't stop his wife from leaving him, and when she did, he couldn't offer any protection.

It was also his own fault that he hadn't bothered to see her after she left the estate.He was too caught up in hurt feelings when she abandoned him.Those ideas didn't apply to the Malfoy family, and she was a Black at heart.Bloody revenge is inevitable, and he owes too much to the woman who brought him into this world.

His father killed, and his mother stood by her husband, just accepting, if not always understanding and approving.Yes, Narcissa would not blame her son for avenging her.

"Mother, wherever you are, I hope you will be happier than with us."

Draco wasn't at all worried that the gods would frown at him for blasphemy because of his impromptu prayers.

God has a terrible sense of humor, after all, he gave Draco a Hermione Granger.

"So," Hermione asked, "what do you want to say?"

After breakfast, Hermione, Harry, and Ron sat in her favorite corner of the deserted Hogwarts library.Hermione felt that this was the safest place within Hogwarts to tell them the news, and she knew no one would be visiting them on the last day of summer.

The sun was shining outside, a good day for bad news, she figured Ginny was still sweeping her breakfast in the Great Hall and didn't know anything about it, and Hermione figured that would be the best.

She can tell the boys first, because they are undoubtedly harder to accept.

Harry was still staring at her oddly, though his mouth had been closed, and Ron was in a different way.He walked away and came back, pacing in front of the desk with his hands on his hips, staring at the ground with a deeply emotional expression.

"I'm still dazed trying to understand the part where you said you sneaked away with him at the graduation party, and then you threw out the fact that you two were married." Harry was stumped.

Hermione noticed that he was slowly taking off his glasses and placing them carefully on the table, which he only usually did when he was extremely troubled or had a terrible headache, and the look on his face meant that he was ready for both now .

"So you've got your head around it now?" Hermione interjected, and she couldn't help feeling like she was telling her parents that she was sneaking out of the house to date a boy they didn't approve of.

It would be great if they could just skip the "Oh my God, how could you? That's Malfoy!" stage.

"I can't believe you kept it a secret for two weeks." Harry sounded overwhelmed.

"I can't believe it either," she admitted.

Ron's reaction, or lack thereof, began to genuinely worry her.

"I'm good at keeping a secret from you two," she said to Ron.

"It's better to be ignorant in this case," Ron muttered at last, at least he stopped walking around and pulled a chair over and sat down.

Harry tapped his finger on the table: "Did you tell Ginny?"

"No, not yet."

"Don't tell her," Ron added, "she's going to die."

Harry snorted. "She won't, she'll accept it sooner than we do. I should tell you we suspected you were dating a Slytherin, but we thought it was Zabini," he told Hermione.

Hermione raised her eyebrows and disappeared into her bangs: "Brace? What the hell makes you think it's Blaise?"

Harry's answer seemed unbelievable: "That's why we didn't guess that it was Malfoy! Because you like Zabini and hate Malfoy."

"I never disliked him, Harry."

"Yeah, you fooled us with the slap he gave him in third year," Harry muttered.

"Things are different."

"How different? I wish I could slap Malfoy myself every week."

Hermione ignored the words, she turned to Ron: "Weasley, say something."

Ron satisfied her: "Are you crazy?" His voice rose an octave: "This is Draco Malfoy we're talking about, he's a scum!"

Hermione sighed, as she expected: "Then I'll take it as your disapproval, right?"

"No, damn it, of course I don't agree!" he snarled. "Did you forget that his father wanted to kill us?"

"Keep it down!" Harry shushed him.

"Draco is not his father! I wish you would stop blah blah blah!"

"Oh, already called him Draco?"

"Well, they're married." Harry felt the need to point out the truth, and then wished he hadn't.

Ron stood up: "I think I'm going to be sick..."

Hermione glared at him. "Where are you going? For God's sake, can you sit down? I have something to tell you!" For a moment, it looked like Ron was going to leave, but then he sat down and hugged him. Staring at her with folded arms.

"Why him?" Harry asked.

She wanted to tell them why, but stopped.She'd had too many arguments with Ron already, and she knew when Ron didn't accept logic.

"You two really feel like you're in the mood to hear an answer? I'm not here to be humiliated, I'm here because I need your help."

"You've always had our help," Harry assured with growing calm. "What are you going to say! It sounds like I don't think it has anything to do with Malfoy's injury."

She blushed: "No, of course not."

"Are you in danger?" Harry's green eyes were the most striking part of him, as if they were going to penetrate her skull.Suddenly he seemed to notice the intensity of his unusual gaze, and suddenly broke the connection.Hermione knew that Harry's Occlumency abilities would sometimes explode when he was particularly curious.

So is she in danger now?

"Yes." she whispered.

Ron, already nodding vigorously, stood up again: "Damn it, Harry! We're going to have a word with him, aren't we? Damn Seamus and Dean are gone. Who else can we have as backup?" We can go find Hagrid! You asked Malfoy to meet us outside, and…"

Harry had heard enough, he jerked Ron to sit down: "Ron, you're giving me a headache. Sit down and shut up."

Hermione glanced at Ron in disgust: "Let me guess. If it was Blaise, you wouldn't mind so much? Right?"

"Zabini's different," Harry put in. "He's not like the rest of them."

"Others? Listen to yourself, this is the kind of immortal academy hostility!"

Ron let out a stifled growl to convey his anger: "Oh! Oh, there's a pair of murderer parents who don't close the college...enemy...enemy..." He couldn't get the word out.

"It's hostile," Hermione said coldly, "Weasley, would you like me to spell it out for you?"

Ron blushed. "Spelling doesn't cover up your sleeping with the villain's son, does it?" he squealed.

"You don't have to shout to me, I can hear you clearly," Hermione interrupted abruptly.

"He obviously didn't treat you well, look at you!" Ron reached out to her: "You are flesh and blood, but you hardly eat these days, and you haven't spoken more than three words to us since last week!"

Hermione scowled, she could see how hurt Ron was, and she knew why, but they were mature enough to deal with it, damn it.

"Don't tell me 'Mudblood' has become his disgusting little pet name for you?" Ron sneered.

"Ron, you're going too far," Harry began.

"For your information, he hasn't called me that this year!"

Ron rolled his eyes: "Merlin, give that man a medal!"

Hermione shook her hand. "I knew you would! I knew Harry was taken aback, but you! You get mad at every excuse. That's why Ginny said she liked Seamus, and Seamus In Gryffindor."

"It's different, you know it yourself! We all know Ginny likes Harry, but Harry wants to appear selfless and doesn't want to put her in danger, which is much more noble than you and Malfoy, in this kind of... ... such uncertain times!"

"Oh, for heaven's sake..." Harry was embarrassed to have his privacy told.

Hermione shook her head at him. "Good job, Ron. I hope someone in Hogsmeade didn't hear you!"

"So what do you want us to do?" Ron and Hermione shouted at each other, the distance between the two sides was on the verge of tension: "We thought it was bad enough that you were holding hands with the cold Zabini! I mean, that There's some truth to it. You can talk to him about 'Hogwarts, a piece of school history' until you blush! But this man! We're talking about Malfoy now! Hermione, whose father was a murderer!"

"Don't yell at me, Ronald!"

Harry hissed at them hurriedly, he could hear footsteps approaching, and guessed it was Mrs Pince trying to see what the yelling was about.He also noticed that Hermione was about to cry.

"Ron, calm down!"

Ron turned to Harry. "No, I won't be calm, and you, Harry, would be crazy to sit there and accept it. Tell her to be smart!"

Harry also stood up: "Could you stop being a jealous jerk and listen to what she has to tell us!"

"I can't believe I'm hearing these words..." Ron turned away from Harry, as if Harry was something unclean: "You're both crazy! My best friend slept with Malfoy! If Mom finds out You'd be crazy. How convenient it is for you to be friends with Harry, the son of the Minister for Magic. That's what you're after, isn't it? Of course it is! How do you know he's not using you... "

Hermione's expression made Ron pause, and she looked over Ron's shoulder, looking devastated.

Tears rolled down her face, and Ron knew he was sorry for Hermione's crying, but it was beyond repair.

"Weasley," Draco seemed to have frozen all his warmth into the cold December wind, "if you don't stop this insult, then you have to know that I will do my best to beat you to a pulp .”

Ron turned around, looking momentarily speechless, standing in front of Draco so he couldn't find anything to talk about.But then, a cold light flashed through his eyes.

"Malfoy, I have no deep sympathy for your mother's death, because I have no regrets about it."

Harry cursed and Hermione held her breath.

Draco smiled.

"Thanks," he said, punching Ron in the face.