Chapter 18 : Planning
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Draco raised his eyebrows, fighting to keep his eyes open. “Your spell?” Hermione nodded excitedly and snuggled up next to him on the couch. “So can you tell me what it is yet?”
“No, it has to go through the Ministry’s experimental charms department and get approved for general use before anyone can know.” Hermione sighed and closed her eyes as Draco draped his arm around her. She smiled. “Did you tell anyone?”
“Ginny and Blaise knew it was happening tonight. Blaise owled, but I think Ginny is waiting for you to tell her before she tells the rest of her family.”
“I’ll tell her as soon as I phone Mum and Dad in the morning,” Hermione yawned tiredly and Draco smirked.
“I think it’s time for bed,” Draco pointed out as Hermione tried to stifle another yawn. Shifting slightly on the couch, Draco slid his arms under her and hoisted her up. He began to make his way back to their bedroom, taking caution not to let her head hit anything. Surprisingly, Hermione was far too tired to put up a fight. Draco looked down at her in his arms quizzically, “How long has it been since you’ve really slept?”
She blushed furiously. “It’s been a few nights.” Draco frowned as he pushed the door open. “It’s just… I was so consumed with this project at work and I knew something was up this week with you, and I couldn’t turn my brain off.” He gave her a look. “I know, I know. It’s not healthy,” she smiled sweetly up at him, “but I’ll sleep like a baby…” she yawned, “tonight.” Draco simply shook his head as he laid her on the bed. She was still wearing the clothes he had proposed to her in. Draco pulled his wand out and transfigured her clothes into racy lingerie.
Draco waved the wand again and Hermione was dressed in soft cotton shorts and a matching tank top.
“I love you,” she mumbled as she pulled the duvet up around her shoulders.
“I gathered that. It’s why you’re marrying me,” Draco smirked and pulled off his shirt.
“Maybe,” Hermione mumbled as she turned over to face him. “But it’s a good chance that I’m marrying you for your abs.”
He shrugged. “That’s fine. I’m marrying you for your money.”
After a moment of silence the couple burst into laughter and finished getting ready for bed.
A month had passed since Draco proposed. Of course, nearly everyone was thrilled for them. Her mother had cried, her father had shaken Draco’s hand in a very masculine way, and Ginny had squealed and then promptly scolded Hermione for missing the first time Draco had proposed. The Wizarding World entered a mild uproar when the news got out.
Malfoy Heir to Marry Muggleborn Member of the Golden Trio
Everyone in the community knew, and everyone wanted an invitation to what was sure to be one of the most important marriages since the war ended.
Needless to say, a date was picked and wedding plans were well underway. In fact, the wedding date had been set for sooner rather than later. Feeling sentimental, Draco and Hermione had decided to have their wedding on Christmas Eve. It was a rush, but with Draco happily throwing his father’s money around on a wedding his father would never approve of, things were falling into place accordingly and in record time.
The only wizard wedding Hermione had attended was that of Bill and Fleur, and she wasn’t sure if it had been very traditional considering it had been done in the middle of one of the most chaotic periods in wizarding history. As usual, she felt an overwhelming amount of pressure to make sure this was perfect, but there was something more important about this. This was her wedding. This was her wedding to Draco Malfoy and everyone would be watching. Of course, Draco told her to screw traditionalism and ritual and custom and do whatever she wanted. If she hadn’t had Ginny to help her along, Hermione swore that she would have imploded.
Though she was making a great effort to plan a typical wizard wedding, there was one thing Hermione wanted that was positively muggle: a wedding dress. And that was why she, Ginny, and her mother were standing in a bridal store. Upon entrance, Ginny had immediately begun rifling through dresses excitedly while Hermione and her mother met with the sales associate helping them with their appointment.
“I want something… not over the top, you know? Something simple.” Hermione glanced over to see that Ginny had pulled out a giant ballgown style dress. “Nothing like that,” she discreetly mumbled to the associate who smiled understandingly. “Maybe some lace and beading, but what I really want is something elegant. Something that looks like me.”
“Of course. We’ll find exactly what you’re looking for, dear.”
Mrs. Granger smiled at her daughter and reached over to squeeze her hand. She was one of the few people who could tell when Hermione was nervous. The sales associate began ushering Hermione and Mrs. Granger back to a fitting room when Ginny’s voice caught their attention.
“Hermione! How about this?” Ginny called across the boutique. Rhinestones and taffeta. That’s all Hermione saw. Loads and loads of rhinestones and layers upon layers of taffeta. For a second, Hermione feared that she was going to be blinded by the glittering garment.
“I don’t think so, Ginny.”
Frowning, Ginny hung the dress back up and followed the rest of the group to the back of the boutique where Hermione was led behind a thick curtain and Ginny and Mrs. Granger were seated on couches. A few minutes later, the sales associate working with them (who had now introduced herself as Janet) came back, a few dresses slung over her arm, and entered behind the curtain where she had ushered Hermione. The sound of rustling fabric could be heard from behind the curtain for a few more moments before Janet swept the curtain aside and Hermione walked out.
Mrs. Granger gasped softly when she saw her daughter walk out her first wedding dress. It was simple in the extreme. It was strapless and flowy with a band of beading just under her bust. It was pretty and understated.
“I don’t like it.” Ginny commented when Hermione stepped up onto a pedestal in front of a mirror to fully survey it.
“You look beautiful, honey.” Mrs. Granger countered Ginny’s comment softly.
Ginny shrugged. “Of course she looks beautiful. Anything we put her in is going to look beautiful, but this is underwhelming. It’s just a white dress. We can do better.”
After a few more moments pause and turning slightly to the side, Hermione finally gave her opinion. “I agree with Ginny. It’s pretty, but it’s too sweet you know? I want something a little more grown up. Something fitted.”
“I have just the thing. Come on back, dear,” Janet said while she and Hermione once more disappeared behind the curtain of the dressing room. Mrs. Granger and Ginny made small talk about the wedding, specifically the invitation list that had yet to be finalized. Propriety mandated that many pureblood families associated with the Malfoys be invited, and the Grangers wished to invite some of their close friends who didn’t know about the magical world. Everyone was trying to figure out the best way to include both groups of people without freaking anyone out too badly. Ginny and Mrs. Granger were trying to discuss more options when Hermione shuffled out of the dressing room.
This dress was also strapless, but had a sweetheart neckline with silver embellishments along the top. The bodice of the dress was covered in rouched satin and laced down the back and had been tightened considerably so that the dress was fitted. This trend continued halfway down her thigh to where the dress flared out around her feet. Ginny practically squealed when she saw it, nearly singing, “I love it! I love it! I love it!” Hermione laughed as she managed to separate her legs enough to step up onto the pedestal and twirl around a little bit.
“It does look nice, doesn’t it,” Hermione mused as she looked at herself in the mirror with furrowed brows. “Mum, what do you think?”
Mrs. Granger didn’t respond immediately. Hermione turned to look at her, her brown eyes curious, but something deeper hid behind the curiosity. Deep down, Mrs. Granger saw her daughter’s desire for her mother’s approval. For everyone’s approval. She wanted to be perfect, to rise to the expectations set before her. Mrs. Granger smiled. “It’s beautiful, Hermione, but I don’t think it’s quite right. I think something that you can breathe in would suit you better.” Hermione exhaled slowly and an unspoken moment passed between mother and daughter.
“I don’t know,” Ginny began to say, “I think breathing is overrat-“
Hermione cut Ginny off. “No, she’s right. It’s a beautiful dress, but I feel like it’s wearing me and not the other way around.” Hermione sighed, a bit frustrated. This was the fourth boutique they had shopped at, and she still hadn’t found the perfect dress. Hermione looked at Janet. “Shall we try again?”
“Of course,” Janet replied quickly. “I’ll unlace you, and then I’m going to pull a different dress.” She looked particularly thoughtful as she continued, “I think I know the perfect one.” She helped Hermione off of the pedestal and held open the curtain for her again as they once more disappeared into the dressing room. Seconds later Janet reappeared and strode quickly to a different part of the bridal boutique.
“Hey, Malfoy!” a voice rang out from a cell in Azkaban jeeringly.
The voice of Lucius Malfoy rang out sounding quite bored. “What do you want, Macnair?”
Walden Macnair wasn’t a particularly pleasant man. The former death eater had been in Azkaban for a fair amount of time and had first been imprisoned after Lucius failing to obtain the prophecy at the ministry in Harry’s fifth year. Though he had to admit, without the dementors, the prison cell he now inhabited was really just more of an annoying cage than a torturous one. A fairly recent copy of the Daily Prophet lay haphazardly on the corner of his bed, open to a picture of Draco’s face, the headline proclaiming his engagement to Hermione. Knowing that everyone in the hall was about to be worshipping him for providing entertainment, Macnair raised his voice again. “Heard anything about your son lately?”
Lucius did not immediately reply. The last news he had received from outside of Azkaban was that his wife had died. Since then, he had actively ignored and shunned any kind of information that stemmed from beyond Azakaban’s walls. The prisoners were offered old copies of The Quibbler, The Daily Prophet, and Quidditch Weekly to wile away their time. Lucius had since rejected them all since hearing of Naricssa’s death. After a long pause, Lucius responded to Macnair. “No, I have not.”
Laughter. Cruel laughter could be heard throughout the hall coming from Macnair’s cell. He still blamed Lucius for his arrest that night at the ministry. It was time to make him pay. “Oh, you haven’t?” His voice held a sense of false warmth. “Your little boy is getting married, Lucius. It’s all over the paper.”
“Ah, so he finally proposed to Parkinson’s girl, did he?” Lucius smiled for the first time in a long time. He knew he could count on his only son to continue the pure bloodline of his family. “That’s a good boy. Keeping our blood pure. You all should be so lucky.”
Whispers of murmurs could be heard from all of the cells now, as could the rustling of paper as they searched through the latest issues of the Prophet they had been given. After a few moments, howls of laughter could be heard from nearly every cell.
“Yeah, Lucius, pure as mud!”
“Draco’s marrying Granger the golden girl!”
“Malfoy and Mudblood, together at last!”
“NO!” Lucius cried frantically, suddenly pacing his cell. “I don’t believe this!” He was being betrayed. His son, his precious pureblood son, would never do this to him. Draco knew better. He had been raised better. A copy of the paper had been tossed in front of his cell with a flap. Warily, Lucius Malfoy approached the blasphemous bundle of paper. Draco’s gray eyes looked up into those of his father from the picture, the headline stating “Malfoy and Granger Wedding Confirmed.” Suddenly, Lucius raised his voice above the others.
“He is no son of mine.”
Defeated, he walked back and sat on his bed. His own son had betrayed their ways. He had, in every way, failed the Dark Lord. He had to fix it. He would find a way. He would not let his son marry filth.
If It’s the last thing I do,
I will stop this wedding.
I will not fail you, Master. I will not.
It only took Janet a few moments to return with a new dress draped over her arm. She only hoped that this dress would satisfy everyone and she could make bank on commission. It seemed to be the perfect compromise. Once more, she helped Hermione into the long white dress. As soon as Janet saw the look on Hermione’s face when she glimpsed herself in the mirror, she knew this was the dress. That was the look.
The second Hermione stepped out from behind the curtain, both Mrs. Granger and Ginny gasped. The A-line skirt flowed around her legs and tapered around her waist to hug her curves. The subtly beaded neckline dropped into only a hardly provocative V while the straps ran over her shoulders and crossed between her shoulder blades before meeting the daringly low back of the dress. A five foot train trailed behind her, glistening every so often with light beading that matched the neckline. Hermione stepped up on the pedestal once more to look at herself in the multiple mirrors about the same time that Mrs. Granger burst into tears.
Even Ginny was tearing up. “Hermione, it’s beautiful. It’s perfect.”
“It’s the dress,” she confirmed her voice wavering slightly as Janet came back with a veil and arranged it in her hair. It was even longer than the train of her dress and was trimmed with lace. “Mom?” Choked up, Mrs. Granger managed to nod wholeheartedly but couldn’t speak. Hermione looked at Janet decidedly. “I’ll take it. The dress, the veil, all of it,” here came the hard part, “and I need it by December 24th.”
Excitement was visible on Janet’s face when Hermione told her that she would be buying both the dress and the veil. However, her smile fell when Hermione told her that it would be needed so soon. That was hardly enough time for the dress to be made and then to do alterations… “I don’t know if that will be possible, Miss Granger.” Janet smiled apologetically at Hermione, trying not to be visibly upset that she was about to lose a huge sale. Hermione smiled softly right back.
“I have enough money to make it possible. Trust me.”
A week later Hermione and Draco sat at their kitchen table, pouring over invitations and colors and pictures of flowers, cakes and venues.
“Right, so we agree on the colors crimson and cream for the wedding, marble cake with buttercream icing, having the wedding at the Zabini Manor, and,” Hermione picked up a cream colored invitation with a simple crimson bow tied at the top that would be enchanted to speak when delivered to wizard families, “this invitation.” Draco nodded his consent as she checked off the list. He wasn’t overly involved in the wedding plans, but he liked that Hermione made an effort to include him in making most of the decisions. It made him feel in control, even though he wasn’t.
“I think I found a way around our problem with inviting your muggle friends,” Draco offered as he continued to scan the table in front of him. Hermione perked up and looked at him expectantly. “Why don’t we tell them it’s a theme wedding? That way they won’t wonder why people are dressed differently or why we’re waving wands everywhere. We’ll just tell them everything is a really elaborate… What are they called? They’re in a lot of movies. Make things look smashing.”
“Special effects?” Hermione offered, smiling. She had a feeling this might work.
“Yes!” Draco nodded, “Those.” He went on excitedly. “They can dress up too, if they like. We can take muggle pictures of our clothes and send them as examples. And if someone slips up and talks about magic to a muggle, the muggle will just play along. We probably won’t even have to alter anyone’s memories.”
Hermione stared at Draco for a few seconds before her face broke into a grin. “Draco, Darling, you’re brilliant! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner.”
“That’s right, Ms. Highly Logical,” he teased her, “this took creativity.” She pretended to glare at him and he smirked.
“Shut it, you little git.”
“Git, yes. Little, no.”
Hermione rolled her eyes. “Alright, so now we get everyone that we want at the wedding. I’ll send out the invitations tomorrow for people to save the date early. Today’s October 6th, so everyone should have their invitation by the 10th at the latest. We should register at a few muggle places by the 15th for when they start looking for wedding gifts.” Draco furrowed his eyebrows.
“But we don’t need anything,” Draco argued. Hermione shrugged in response.
“It’s customary. When someone gets married, you buy them a gift.”
“I know, but we have everything.”
“We’ll figure something out.” Hermione assured him. “I think we’ve done enough tonight. We can pick things back up in the morning. Yes?”
Draco smirked mischievously. “I’m all for going to bed if you are.”
“I’ll race you there.”
“Don’t be so sure. I’m faster than Harry on the ground.”
“I’m sure he’d contest that.”
“No way. Next time we’re together. One hundred yards. I’ll race him.” Hermione met Draco’s eyes. After a moment’s hesitation, they were both practically scrambling over the table for their bedroom.
“Lucius Malfoy,” the guard stated his name as he stood outside the cell. Lucius sat on his bed, staring at the ground listlessly. His graying hair hung limply around his face. He slowly raised his eyes to look at the Auror who was standing before him. “You have a visitor.” Lucius stood slowly, quite confused. He had spoken to no one on the outside since being imprisoned, and he hadn’t spoken to anyone on the inside since news about Draco had been released. The Auror opened the door to Lucius’ cell after casting a charm that bound his hands and led Lucius down the hall to the occasional jeer from a hall mate.
Eventually Lucius and the Auror made a turn, followed by another. The interior of Azkaban resembled a maze, halls branching off in every direction leading who knew where. Apparently the auror knew where. He made one last turn, opened a door, and ushered Lucius inside. A lone man stood in the room, his back turned to the door. “Thank you, Harper.” His voice reverberated off of the stone walls in the empty room. The man turned to face Lucius and the Auror now known as Harper. Lucius smirked as the man held out a handful of galleons, which Harper quickly reached out for. After the exchange, Harper left the room and shut the door behind him.
“It’s good to see you, Phillip.”
“I wish I could say the same, Lucius.” Phillip Parkinson smirked as he looked at Lucius disapprovingly with nearly black eyes. “I must say, you’re looking a bit rougher these days.” Lucius narrowed his eyes, coveting the black, perfectly tailored suit that Phillip Parkinson was wearing. He’d kill for one of his old suits right about now. “Anyway, I come on business, Lucius.”
Lucius held Phillip’s eyes. “You know that I have nothing to do with business now. Everything has been turned over to the Ministry or my worthless son.” He refused to say Draco’s name, and his voice dripped with venom at the mention of him.
“I think you mean valuable son,” Phillip corrected him. “A valuable son who is no longer marrying my pureblooded daughter.” His eyes flashed. “We had an arrangement, Lucius. We still have an arrangement, and I can’t have my dear little Pansy heartbroken any longer.”
Lucius’ eyes clouded with anger. “I am aware, Phillip. However, there is little I can do here. I’ve been planning to break out ever since I heard about the engagement. This atrocity must be stopped immediately. Unfortunately, I have no way to do that seeing as I lack a wand and a way to get off this Merlin forsaken island.”
“That, my friend,” Phillip smiled wolfishly, “is where I come in.”
“Hermione?” Celeste called from the outside of Hermione’s experiment room.
“Come in!” Celeste opened the door quietly and slipped inside. She closed the door behind her. Hermione spun to face Celeste in her chair, a smile on her face. “What do you need?”
Celeste smiled back at her warmly. “That’s just it,” she held up a piece of paper with the Ministry letterhead across the top. “I don’t need anything. Hermione, your spell got approved!” Hermione squealed and her face lit up as she leapt out of her chair to see the letter for herself. Celeste handed it to her.
“Miss Granger, the Department of Experimental Charms of the Ministry of Magic is pleased to inform you that your advanced protection charm has been approved for public use in Britain. We believe that this spell is of the utmost importance and should be spread internationally. With your permission we request to send this spell to magical communities across the globe.” Hermione looked up at Celeste. She couldn’t believe it. “This is huge. What does it mean?”
Celeste grinned. “It means that I’m going to be in business for a very long time.” She thought for a moment. “It means that Charles could blow up this place about fourteen separate times and we’d have money left over to rebuild it again.”
“Wow,” Hermione breathed. “So I don’t have to keep it a secret anymore?”
Celeste shook her head in response. “No you don’t. If you read further the letter says that the Ministry is going to recommend the spell be placed in Hogwarts’ defensive curriculum immediately for seventh years. Of course, it won’t be tested on for N.E.W.T.S. because of the precariousness of the spell. Not everyone will be able to cast it. But when it’s cast, apparently it works perfectly. That’s what the department at the ministry said.”
“So it really works, then?” Hermione asked. “I wonder if it works with the unforgivables. Of course, they could never test that. It would almost mean certain death.”
“Let’s hope no one ever has to find out.”
“Agreed. I don’t think it would hold up if you cast it on yourself,” Hermione mused, “but if you cast it on someone else, someone that you really love, I feel like it could hold up against anything.”
“It’s a great charm, Hermione. It will do a lot of good.”
“I’d prefer people not have to use it at all, really.” Hermione sighed. “I only wish I had come up with it before. It would have saved a lot of people.” Her eyes suddenly watered as she remembered all of the people who wouldn’t be able to attend her wedding. Because they were dead. Hermione looked away. She knew nothing could be done about the past. Without a word, Celeste stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Hermione. It was easy to forget how young she was, how much she had been through that a person her age should never have to experience. “I’m sorry,” Hermione whispered, holding back tears.
“Oh, Hermione, don’t be sorry.” Celeste pulled back and looked Hermione in the eyes. “You have done more for the wizarding community than anyone else I know. And you’re only twenty.”
“I’m almost twenty-one.” Hermione sniffed and tried to smile.
“Regardless,” Celeste continued, “you did more than anyone expected you to. And you’re still doing more.”
Hermione sighed. “It just never feels like it’s enough.” Celeste smiled sadly.
“One day it will. One day you’ll look back and realize that it was more than enough.”
Hermione had owled Draco at lunch and told him that the ministry had approved her charm and that she could show it to him when they got home. She had expected him to be excited when she arrived home that evening. What she did not expect, however, was to floo home and see Draco, Blaise, Evangeline, Charles, Harry, and Ginny all excited when she arrived home that evening. Ginny’s squeal of delight immediate accosted her ears.
“Hermione! We all heard the good news! We’re so excited to see your new charm!” Ginny made little to no effort to hide her excitement. As soon as Hermione brushed the powder off of herself Ginny ambushed her with a hug. Evangeline was far more demure, probably because Blaise was there, but she too looked excited. Hermione looked at Draco and he smiled sheepishly.
“Word is all over the Auror office, Hermione. It’s supposed to revolutionize our defenses.” Harry commented, enthusiastic like the others. “We all can’t wait to see it.”
“Yeah,” started Hermione, “they want to add it to Hogwarts’ seventh year curriculum.”
Ginny turned to Charles. “Has anything of yours been added to Hogwarts’ curriculum?” Hermione and Evangeline laughed while Charles gave them a dark look.
“Not quite,” he answered. “All of my charms so far have been a bit too… explosive.” Ginny looked at Hermione, slightly confused.
“He has a Seamus complex. Everything he works on ends in an explosion.”
“Ooooh,” Ginny responded to Hermione’s explanation.
“Alright,” Blaise interrupted the conversation. “I was told that there was going to be food. Is there not going to be food?”
As soon as the words left Blaise’s mouth, Twylla popped into the room. “Twylla has finished dinner! Masters and Mistresses please will follow Twylla to the dining room.”
Dinner was a happy affair. Everyone chatted amicably. Hermione and Draco talked a little bit about the wedding, Evangeline and Blaise announced that they were officially dating (it was about time), and Harry updated them on the latest Auror things going on. Everyone teased Charles a little bit about not having a date and he said it was because Celeste still wouldn’t agree to go out with him. Afterwards, everyone moved to the living room ready to watch Hermione demonstrate her new charm. Everyone crashed onto a couch and waited expectantly.
“Alright…” Hermione started once everyone had settled down a little bit. She twirled her wand absentmindedly. “I’m going to need a little help demonstrating. Draco? Blaise? Care to help?” Blaise looked at Hermione skeptically, but Hermione flashed him an innocent look. Draco noticed that the innocence didn’t reach her eyes. Both men stood slowly. “Okay, Blaise, you go over there,” Hermione motioned across the room, “And Draco, you stand here.” She positioned him out of the way of everyone. Just in case. “And I just have to cast the charm.” She lifted her wand. ”Diligo Contego.” For a moment, the air right around Draco seemed to shimmer. “Blaise, try to disarm Draco.”
“Whoa!” Draco exclaimed. “I did not sign up for this.”
Hermione laughed. “Don’t worry. You’ll be fine.” She nodded to Blaise. “Go for it.”
Blaise needed no further encouragement. “Expelliarmus!” The spell shot across the room and Draco visibly winced; however, the second the spell hit Draco, it wasn’t his wand that went flying. In fact, there seemed to have been no effect on Draco at all. Blaise yelped though, as his own wand flew out of his hand. The spell hadn’t even rebounded. It had been absorbed by the shield around Draco and had affected Blaise.
Every jaw in the room dropped.
Blaise went after his wand.
“Hermione, that’s amazing!” exclaimed Harry. Hermione smiled.
“It was inspired by you, Harry. I thought maybe there could be a way to duplicate what happened to you when Voldemort attacked you as a baby. You know, without anyone having to die.” Hermione blushed. “Any of you can try whatever you like. The charm lasts about twenty minutes regardless of how many spells are thrown at it.” Hermione smirked. “Just don’t do anything you don’t want to happen to you.”
“Stupefy!” Blaise called out. A second later, he was on his back. Everyone watched as he slowly, and slightly painfully, propped himself up on his elbow. “Well,” he mumbled, “at lest I know my stunning spell packs one hell of a punch.”
Midway through October one morning, Hermione was rifling through RSVP’s to her wedding at her dining room table. Over half of the families invited had already confirmed their attendance, and a month was left for guests to give notice. It was Saturday and Draco still slept. A small peck on the door leading out to the balcony aroused Hermione’s attention. The Daily Prophet owl had arrived. She meandered over to let the owl in, picking up a knut and a small owl treat from a bowl along the way. She opened the glass door and the owl flew in, dropping the paper on the table. It returned to Hermione and she dropped the knut in a small pouch attached to its leg and gave it the treat before it flew out the door again.
Yawning, Hermione walked back to the dining room table and unfolded the paper. When she saw the headline, her eyes widened. “Draco!” she called, her voice holding worry and fear. “DRACO!” she yelled again.
“What?” came his groggy voice from the bedroom. Numb, Hermione made her way slowly to him. When she didn’t respond vocally, Draco poked his head out of the bedroom door, pulling a shirt on over his head. He took in her pale face and hurried to meet her. “Hermione, what is it?”
“Your father,” she whispered, holding out the paper to him. There on the front page was the headline, “IMPOSTER FOUND IN CELL AT AZKABAN. LUCIUS MALFOY ON THE LOOSE.”
A/N: Hello, beautiful people! I really like this chapter, so I hope you do too! I'm sorry that it's a little bit shorter than usual, but I didn't want to put too much in it. I don't have too much to say. Two chapters left, so get excited! I hope you're all hooked! Uhm, if you get bored waiting on me to update, feel free to show some love to my One-Shots. I placed in both contests that they were written for, which I think is a good sign.
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