All You Want Episode 34 - Harry Potter

 In the aftermath of the prefects’ bath, Draco bites Hermione by accident and spirals with guilt. Hermione is clear that she wanted it, calms him, and asks if he will soulbond with her during her next heat. He says yes. Hermione then meets McGonagall to put their decision on record and discuss protections. Back in their rooms, they celebrate Christmas. Draco replaces Bellatrix’s wand with a perfect match for Hermione and gifts her Bathilda Bagshot’s original Hogwarts: A History manuscript, including a lost chapter on house-elf labor. The night ends with mutual promises that there will never be anyone else. 

Transcript

**Chapter 34: The Only One For Me is You**

Hermione’s fingers grazed the base of her neck, feeling the spot where Draco’s incisors had pierced her skin over her left scent gland. She was so surprised that she could hardly find the words.

The thought of Draco biting her had loomed large in her mind, and now that it had actually happened, it felt surreal. “I thought—I thought I had it under control,” Draco said, his hands trembling.

“I swear, I thought I could manage it. I’m so sorry.”

Hermione pressed against the bite, feeling a twinge of pain.

Looking down, she noticed a small trail of blood flowing from her shoulder to her breast, seeping into the water. She glanced back at Draco.

“Well, I guess that answers one question I had.”

Suddenly, she felt more clear-headed than she had since boarding the Hogwarts Express. She reached out, gently brushing her fingers against his scent glands, then tilted her head up to kiss him.

But he pulled his mouth out of reach. “I am so sorry.

I promised I would never let anyone bite you—I didn’t even ask, I just—”

Hermione furrowed her brows and pulled his face down so she could meet his gaze. “Draco, I told you I wanted you to bite me.”

His eyes widened.

“In the general sense! Not the very next time we had sex.

A full conversation, when you weren’t dazed by my pheromones, would have been the appropriate starting point.”

He had turned so pale he looked like he might faint or run away. In all the fantasies Hermione had envisioned of Draco biting her, none had unfolded quite like this.

She shrugged. “Yes, well, generally speaking, our relationship has been fairly backwards.”

Somewhere, Ginny was laughing, and Hermione was certain of it.

But the words did little to soothe Draco. “Draco, it’s alright.

I’m not upset. Just calm down.”

“Well, I’m upset.

I promised I would never let this happen…”

“It was very strange being the calm one,” Hermione said, pressing her thumbs firmly against the base of Draco's neck, right over his scent glands. “Alpha,” she murmured in a low, quiet voice.

Draco's words faltered, and he froze as if petrified. “You’re my Alpha.

Mine. You asked me to tell you what I wanted, and I did.

I chose you to take care of me because I trust you.”

Her words seemed to jolt him. “That was clearly a mistake,” he said, frustration creeping into his voice.

“I couldn’t even control myself enough not to bite you when you’re not in heat. I meant to talk to McGonagall about sealing my mouth shut during your heat because I was afraid I might bite you then.

I didn’t consider—”

The corner of Hermione’s mouth twitched. “Draco,” she interrupted gently.

“We’ve already established that I can say no. You’re wired to claim me and please me, and I told you that what I wanted was for you to bite me.

I even said it again while we were having sex. It was practically inevitable.”

“That doesn’t make it alright,” he replied tightly, looking away from her.

“Fuck. I’m so sorry.”

She gently pulled his face back until their eyes met, and her heart sank at the devastation she saw there.

He had wanted to bite her, yet had resisted the urge for months. Now that he had, it felt like a failure on his part.

Hermione held his face in her hands and leaned forward until their foreheads touched, nuzzling him softly. “I’m sorry, Draco.

This is my fault.”

He snorted, and she felt the rush of air against her face. “Oh really?

Did you bite me? Oh wait, you didn’t.” 

Suddenly, he jerked his head up, burying his face in his hands, drawing a sharp breath.

“I held you when you were crying after Goldstein attacked you, and I swore no one would bite you, and then I’m the one who did. Fuck!

Fuck. Fuck.” His voice was ragged.

Hermione wrapped her arms tightly around him, offering comfort as they both grappled with the weight of the moment. Hermione felt Draco's chest jerk against her as he struggled to breathe.

She wasn’t sure how to calm him; he was usually the one comforting her. “Draco, listen to me.

I asked you to bite me. Maybe it would have been better if we’d talked more first, but I’ve always been clear about saying no when I meant it.

We’ve been interfering with the bonding magic because I’ve been trying so hard to be careful. That might be why you’ve grown and why I’ve been such an emotional wreck lately.

The biology doesn’t usually need to be forced. You took care of me during my heat without biting me, and that’s unprecedented.

I probably should have asked you to bite me when we started dating, but I was afraid it would feel like an overcommitment. Please don’t be upset.”

She gently tried to pry his hands away from his face, and after a moment, he relented.

“Granger,” Draco said, placing a hand on top of her head as if he were petting her. “I know you mean well, but I’m not going to feel better about this.

I don’t want you to make me feel better right now.”

Hermione pursed her lips and buried her face in his chest. “Well, I’m not upset about it.

So, whenever you’re ready to stop being upset, we can talk.”

Draco wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly for a long time. She waited quietly, hoping he would relax or say something.

As the minutes passed, she closed her eyes, listening to his heartbeat and mentally cataloging her feelings. There was a throbbing sensation in her shoulder; it was somewhat painful, yet her mind registered it as wonderful.

He wouldn’t need to scent mark her daily anymore. When his teeth broke the skin over her scent glands, his saliva had mingled with hers, ensuring that her scent would now reflect his own.

Depending on how hard he’d bitten her,

Hermione knew how much Draco's bite had affected him. The damage to his gland could linger for weeks or even months before healing completely.

She suspected that the bite itself would only last a few weeks at most. It was clear he hadn’t intended to hurt her; he had probably just been nipping at her the way he often did, but this time had bitten down harder than he meant to.

In that moment, her Omega instincts had completely faded away. She felt neither aroused nor unclaimed; her subconscious had done its job, allowing her to regain full control of her thoughts.

She looked up at Draco through her lashes. His gaze seemed distant, but his fingers were tracing gentle patterns on her shoulders as he held her.

He looked traumatized—after all, he had endured a rather emotional day. “Draco?” 

“Hm?” He met her eyes, his expression carefully guarded.

“This is just a question, so you don’t have to say yes, but… do you want to soulbond with me next week?” 

Draco blinked, staring at her in confusion. Then, his eyes darkened.

“What?” His voice came out in a low growl. Hermione felt a tingle run down her spine, but his tone didn’t cloud her judgment as it usually did.

She shifted closer to him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “I’m going into heat in five days.

Would you be interested in biting me again then? We can talk about it as much as you want.

Obviously—” she added, nervously running her fingers across his chest, “it’s a bit soon, but I was talking to Ginny. At this point, we’re both worried that the bonding magic might hurt us if we keep doing what we’re doing without officially soulbonding.

I mean, you’re on the verge of not being able to comfortably walk through a doorway.”

Draco shifted, tension radiating through him, sending ripples across the bath. “Granger—Hermione, if you’re just saying this to make me feel better right now, it’s actually incredibly unhelpful.” His voice was so tight, it sounded like it might snap.

Hermione shook her head. "I’m not just saying this on a whim.

I've been thinking about it a lot—really, a lot—basically nonstop for the last several weeks. This isn’t a sudden idea for me.

I want to soulbond with you. I want you as my Alpha for the rest of my life."

"Tell Malfoy you love him, ask him to soulbond, and say you want to have his babies.

I guarantee he’ll be absolutely thrilled." 

She straightened up, lifting her face closer to his. "I love you, Draco.

I want to have babies with you someday."

A myriad of thoughts and emotions flickered across Draco’s face. "Hermione—please, don’t say things like that to me." His hands tightened on her shoulders, his voice almost a low groan.

Hermione leaned forward, dragging her tongue up his throat. His entire body shook.

"Do you want to soulbond with me?" she asked, her voice coaxing. "Yes," he growled, the word drawn out in a way that sent shivers through her.

"Good," she replied, her tone sharp with excitement. "Then we’re agreed."

Draco’s hand tangled possessively in her hair, tilting her head back until their eyes locked.

"Are you sure? You shouldn’t say things like that if you aren’t sure.

I can’t always tell if you mean it or not. If you don’t mean it, you have to take it back, so I know and don’t end up doing something you only said to make me feel better."

She met his gaze steadily, his quicksilver eyes studying her intently, searching for any sign of doubt.

"I’m not going to take it back. I wanted you to bite me, and I want you to do it again."

Draco still seemed skeptical.

Hermione raised her eyebrows, holding his gaze. "If you—"

“Don’t bite me.

I might end up biting the next witch who looks at you. And who knows, I might blow up the Great Hall again.

Maybe I’ll even cry.” She widened her eyes dramatically. Draco’s hand twitched at her words.

“Don’t cry,” he said, his voice low. Then he narrowed his eyes.

“God, Granger, let a man be upset in peace for ten minutes.”

Hermione snorted and hugged him tightly. “I would, but I’m kind of stuck here right now.” She shifted slightly, tightening her grip around him to make her point clear.

“Besides, I don’t want you to be upset about this. I’m not upset, and I’m the one bleeding.

Stop moping. I’m trying to talk about soulbonding, and you’re sulking.

This is the third thing I’ve proposed that you’ve been discouraging about. It’s almost hard for me to believe you’re the Alpha.

I’m the one who initiated everything—shagging, dating—and now I’ve basically proposed to you. Good thing you said you loved me first and bit me, or I’d really be questioning your ability to take any kind of initiative.” She lifted her chin defiantly.

“I’m starting to think I’m the Alpha here.”

Draco made a choking sound, and Hermione let out a soft laugh. “I’m just teasing you.” She wrapped her arms around him again.

“I’m sorry. I know this didn’t happen the way you wanted it to.

I shouldn’t have waited so long to bring this up. We don’t need to discuss soulbonding right now.

I know you’re upset, and this day has been… a lot. Maybe we can talk about it over the next few days and see how we feel.

If it’s too soon, there’s always March. Or June.” She glanced down, her heart racing.

“If you want to wait, we can wait.” 

She hoped he wouldn’t want to wait. The thought of that made her uneasy, but she would try to handle it.

He always waited for her. He tilted her face up to meet his gaze.

“Hermione, if you’re sure, the answer is yes.” His silver eyes were wide, and as she looked into them, her stomach fluttered with a mix of hope and anticipation. Hermione felt a rush of emotions flood over her.

“There’s never going to be anyone after you,” she said, smiling as her heart raced with excitement. Her throat tightened, and she fought back the urge to cry.

“Good. That’s good, because there’s never going to be anyone else for me either.” 

The water temperature was finally bearable, according to Draco, by the time they stopped kissing and hugging and got out.

“That was—well, that was definitely a shag for the record books,” Hermione remarked with a sly smirk as she dried off. “Quite the Christmas present.” 

Draco rolled his eyes.

“This was not your Christmas present. This was merely some personal fantasy fulfillment.” 

Hermione shrugged while she started getting dressed.

“Well, if it had been my present from you, I wouldn’t have minded.” 

She noticed Ginny’s Firebolt by the door. “I should give Ginny her broom back and apologize to McGonagall for blowing up the glassware this morning.

I think I’ll mention that we’re considering soulbonding this Christmas. I wonder if there are consent forms or something I’ll need to sign.

Is that alright if I tell her?” 

Draco pulled on his shirt and nodded. She looked up at him, her heart racing with giddy excitement.

“So, we’re really doing this. I feel half-afraid I’m going to blink and find it’s a dream.” 

Draco raised an eyebrow as he buttoned his robes.

“If it is, please tell me everything you said today.” 

“Right. I’ll sit up in bed in a minute and find you hungover and asleep, and I’ll just order you to get up and bite me.” 

Draco smirked.

“If you had, I would have moved past my hangover without a potion.” 

Hermione laughed softly as she bundled her extra jumpers inside her cloak. “I can take those back to our room.” 

Draco reached out to take them, but Hermione shrugged.

“It’s fine. I can try to shrink them.”

“and stick them in my bag.” 

Draco raised an eyebrow and extended his hand again.

“I’m going there anyway. You don’t need to drag them around the castle with you.”

“Alright.

I’ll see you in a bit then.” 

Hermione made her way through the castle and stopped at the prefects' office, leaving Ginny’s broom at the desk. As she headed toward the Headmistress’s office, she spotted Neville down the hallway.

He immediately turned on his heel and bolted in the opposite direction. Hermione watched him vanish around the corner, then reached up to lightly touch the cut on her shoulder.

The gargoyle began to move as soon as it saw her. Hermione climbed the stairs and knocked softly on the door at the top.

“Enter,” McGonagall’s crisp voice called. Hermione lifted her chin and opened the door.

McGonagall looked up and gestured for her to come forward. “Miss Granger, please sit down.

I was hoping to see you today.” 

Hermione settled on the edge of a chair, gripping the hem of her sleeves. “Headmistress, I wanted to apologize for the explosion in the Great Hall this morning.” 

The corner of McGonagall’s mouth twitched.

“Well, I had anticipated several explosions following your presentation. If you limit it to one, I will have few complaints.” 

Hermione felt her cheeks warm.

“That’s—actually the main reason I wanted to talk to you. Draco and I have discussed it, and we—we want to soulbond next week.

I know that’s soon, especially considering our history, but—I—I’m not sure if my hormones will give me much more time to evaluate options.” 

McGonagall’s expression was unreadable. Hermione swallowed and pressed on.

“I don’t want you to think this is a choice I’ve made carelessly or irresponsibly. I’ve been giving it a lot of thought, and I’ve done some research over the last few weeks that you can look over—” She reached into her beaded bag and, after a moment of rummaging, pulled out...

Hermione entered the room, carrying two armfuls of thick, tightly-wound scrolls. She laid them in a neat pile on McGonagall’s desk and straightened them nervously.

“I understand there may be some reservations about this,” she began, glancing up to gauge McGonagall’s reaction. “However, I believe, based on my analysis, that Draco and I have a legitimate relationship, and it’s not just biological.” 

She took a breath, trying to steady herself.

“In my research, I’ve done my best to control for bias. I know that as one of the subjects involved, my interpretation might not be entirely objective, but I’ve worked hard to account for that.

Ginny has reviewed everything as well. I would have liked to have it looked over by magi-biologists with more expertise in Alpha-Omega dynamics, but since I’m unbound, there’s little precedent for how my research would be protected as an Omega subject.”

Hermione swallowed hard and sat back, twisting her sleeve and running her thumbs over the glands on her wrists in an attempt to stay still.

“I’m concerned about the way my hormones have been spiking recently, and given that Draco has just experienced a secondary growth spurt, I worry that delaying the soulbonding until March or June could have negative consequences for us in the long run.” 

She paused, waiting for McGonagall's response. “You’re an adult, Miss Granger,” McGonagall said, surveying the mountain of scrolls between them.

“You have never required my permission to soulbond.” 

Hermione fidgeted, feeling a mix of anxiety and determination. “I know.

But I would like your approval because I want it on record that this was a decision I made. I don’t want the Ministry to accuse Draco of soulbonding me without permission or to penalize him when my presentation comes out.”

McGonagall arched an eyebrow and gave a short nod.

“I’m relieved to hear you’ve given this such serious thought. I intended to meet with you regarding your plans this week to discuss everything and plan accordingly.”

Hermione felt her cheeks flush as she realized she should have come sooner.

“I should have come earlier, but I was…”

“I’m worried that my conclusions might be skewed by personal bias or that my hormones could be clouding my judgment. However, Ginny agrees that delaying our bond is interfering with the natural process and carries risks.”

McGonagall tilted her head, pressing her fingers against her temple as she looked up from Hermione’s scrolls.

“I’m inclined to agree. The situation between you and Mr.

Malfoy has certainly been unconventional.” She met Hermione’s gaze. “Are you planning to inform your friends of this decision beforehand?

Have you heard from your parents recently?”

Hermione pressed her lips together. “I think I should write to Harry and Ron, but I’d prefer they find out when they can’t interfere.

If we end up arguing about it with my magic heightened like this, something might explode. As for my parents, their memories are coming back, but they still believe I’m eight years old.

I don’t think they should be told until I can visit them outside of Hogwarts.”

“Is Mr. Malfoy planning to inform his parents?” 

Hermione’s mouth twitched.

“I think his mother is suspicious, if not already aware. He hasn’t had any contact with his father since returning to school.”

McGonagall nodded.

“Well, he’s an adult too. I’ll do my best to arrange everything.

I assume you’ll still want a contraceptive potion?”

“Yes,” Hermione replied firmly. She stood up and hesitated.

“Would you like to review my analysis?”

The corner of McGonagall’s mouth twitched as she glanced back at the scrolls. “If you’re convinced, Miss Granger, I’m sure your conclusion is sound.”

Feeling her face grow warm, Hermione gathered the scrolls and stuffed them back into her bag.

“Right. Well.

Alright then. Thank you, Headmistress.”

As she returned to her room, Hermione was taken aback to find a massive Christmas tree in the center.

Christmas carols played on a gramophone, and Draco stood next to a large box. that came up past his knees and was tied with a large green ribbon.

“It seems we’re doing Christmas today,” he said when he saw her. She smiled slightly as she tossed her bag onto the couch.

“McGonagall’s alright with us soul bonding.” 

Draco raised an eyebrow and snorted. “It’s hardly her business.” 

“Well, she is Headmistress, and she’s overseeing your probation while you’re here.

I think it’s important that she sees it as a responsible choice, not just our biology driving us.” 

Draco’s mouth twitched as he shrugged. “Right.

Well, as long as you’re not expecting Potter and Weasley to be alright with it too.” 

Hermione shook her head. “They’ll only come around if they have to.

I’ll tell them afterward so they won’t have a choice but to accept it.” 

She pulled on Draco’s robes until he leaned towards her, rubbing their noses together. “You aren’t getting out of this, Draco Malfoy.

You said you’d bite me again, and I’m going to hold you to it.” 

Draco snorted and drew back. “I told you from the beginning that I wanted to bite you.

That’s never changed on my end.” 

Her gaze dropped. “I know.

Intuitive really isn’t the right word—the more I wanted it, the more I feared it meant everything was fake. I should have asked you to bite me when we started dating.

I feel so much better now. It’s like half of my mental energy lately has been consumed with wanting it and trying to hold myself back.” 

“I wanted you to be sure.

I didn’t want you to feel like it wasn’t a choice.” 

Draco’s fingers brushed lightly over the left side of her neck, and his eyes grew slightly guilty as he looked down at her. Hermione caught his hand and held it there, feeling the heat radiate from his touch, causing her to shiver.

“It was a choice. You’ve always been who I chose, Draco.

Now—give me my Christmas present.” 

Draco stiffened and gave her an appraising look. Hermione’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Bossy,” she said, lifting her chin and flashing him a cheeky grin. “Very.

How do you think I kept Harry and Ron alive for seven years?” Draco laughed, shaking his head. “Maybe you are the Alpha,” he teased.

Hermione snorted, then turned her gaze to the box beside them. “Right, Christmas present.

I have to say, you are a nightmare to shop for.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m the easiest person to buy for.

Just give me a book that’s not about Divination or Quidditch.”

Draco grimaced. “Right.

Giving you a book wouldn’t be predictable at all.”

“So… you got me a box of books?” Hermione tried to contain her excitement as she eyed the box beside him. Draco smirked and leaned closer, towering over her.

“I didn’t get you a book at all.”

“Oh…” Her heart sank slightly. She couldn’t think of anything she wanted more than a box of books.

Shoving the disappointment aside, she resolved to be excited about whatever he had chosen for her. “Your present is actually not as large as this box makes it seem.” Draco nudged it toward her with his foot.

Hermione dropped to her knees, untied the ribbon, and lifted the lid. Inside were dozens of long, narrow boxes.

She stared in disbelief. “I hate that wand you use,” Draco said, watching her reaction.

“I hate it. Every time I see it, I think about you in my drawing room, and it frustrates me that you’re stuck with a wand that tortured you.

I know you claim it’s fine, but I can see it’s affecting your magic. Your warming charms wear off too quickly, and it’s hurting your performance in several classes.

I’ve shared classes with you for years, and I’ve never seen you struggle to cast a spell until this year.” 

Hermione’s hands trembled slightly as she processed his words. Hermione started trembling as she gripped the sides of the boxes, her eyes fixated on the wand boxes inside.

Draco knelt beside her, gently touching her hand. “You should have a wand that works.

You deserve to be in this world more than anyone,” he said softly. “Draco—” she managed to choke out, feeling too overwhelmed and stunned to articulate her thoughts further.

“The wand shortage isn’t an issue at this point,” he continued. “I wrote to Ollivander, asking if there was any way to obtain a wand without visiting his shop.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t interested in helping me.”

Hermione looked up, and Draco met her gaze with a faint smile as he picked up one of the boxes. “I wrote to him again, explaining that I wasn’t asking for myself.

I mentioned someone I knew who lost her wand during the war. Because of private circumstances, it wasn’t safe for her to visit his shop and get a new one.

I was worried that someday someone might try to hurt her, and the wand she had wouldn’t work, even though she’s one of the most brilliant witches I’ve ever seen.” He opened the box and tilted it toward her. “I had to wait a few days, but then Ollivander wrote back.

He said, 'Wands choose the witch,' and asked me to tell him about what kind of witch you are.” He chuckled softly. “I ended up writing an essay in response, detailing everything about you that I thought might be useful.

It turned out to be about sixty inches long, and I even left out all the bits about how sexy you are.” His smile shifted into a smirk. “Ollivander sent this box of wands and said to test them.

If none of them worked, I should send them all back, and he’d send another box.”

“Draco…” Hermione could barely breathe, her throat closing around her emotions. “This—” She let out a small sob.

“My god—I don’t even know what to say.”

He held the box out to her. “Don’t say anything yet.

I don’t know if any of these will work for you. I may have done something…

"An abysmal job describing you," she said with a disbelieving laugh.

"I didn’t even think to ask Ollivander if it would be possible to send wands here." 

He smirked and waved his hand lazily, as if bowing. "You aren’t nearly as presumptuous as Malfoys are."

She let out a choked laugh, her hands trembling slightly with excitement.

A long, grey wooden wand lay in the box before her. She picked it up and waved it, but an ornament on the tree exploded.

She shrugged. "Well, not that one." 

Putting it back, she pulled out another wand.

It was made of vine wood and dragon heartstring, just like her first wand. "I do hate Bellatrix’s wand," she murmured as she waved the vine wood wand.

The reaction was muted, so she returned it to the box. "I had thought I’d be able to visit Diagon Alley during the first Hogsmeade visit this year.

But after I presented, I couldn’t leave the castle grounds. I gave up on the idea of getting a new one until—well, whenever I could leave." 

She tried wand after wand, working her way through the box, and Draco's expression began to show concern.

Finally, she removed the lid from another box and discovered a long black wand. Her fingers tingled as she picked it up and swished it.

A burst of light shot from the tip, transforming into hundreds of tiny, glittering lights that drifted down over her and Draco like falling snow. She stared at the wand in her hand for several seconds.

"I almost forgot how easy it can be." 

Draco tilted the box to read the label. "Ebony with dragon heartstring, twelve inches." 

The corner of her mouth quirked as she examined it.

"Not my birth month anymore." 

"Ebony chooses those who hold fast to their beliefs, no matter the external pressure," he said quietly. "That does sound a bit like you."

Hermione smiled and looked over at him, gripping the wand tighter.

"I guess you described me well. Thank you, Draco." 

He gave her a wry smile.

"I was starting to get a bit worried."

Hermione flicked her wand, conjuring a small flock of canaries that fluttered around their heads. She huddled closer to Draco, resting her head against his shoulder.

“I haven’t been able to do that spell since I lost my wand. I used to charm them to sing to me when I was sad.”

They sat in silence, watching the birds for a moment before Draco shifted slightly.

“So—I lied.”

Hermione looked up at him, curiosity piqued. “I did buy you a book,” he admitted.

“I was worried that Ollivander would refuse or that none of the wands would work, so I got a book as a backup plan.” He reached into his bag and pulled out another present. “Happy Christmas, Hermione.”

Hermione reached for it, her ears warming at the thought.

“Draco, you didn’t need to get me two presents. A wand is more than enough.

I didn’t even buy you anything.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You subverted a Wizengamot decree to give me a Christmas present.”

She grinned to herself.

“It was a pretty good present, wasn’t it?”

Draco pressed a gentle kiss on the top of her head. “It was the best present I’ve ever received—second only to you asking me to date and then soulbond with you.”

Hermione looked down, her cheeks beginning to ache from all the smiling she’d done that day.

She carefully unwrapped the book, revealing an unbound folio wrapped in leather. “Hogwarts: A History” was etched across the cover.

Draco brushed his hand over the leather. “This is Bathilda Bagshot’s original manuscript for Hogwarts: A History.

The publishing company auctioned it to promote the updated edition coming out this spring. Blaise’s mother knew someone who knew someone, and I was able to get it for you.”

Hermione was nearly speechless.

“Draco—this must have cost—”

“The reason I got it for you is that it includes an additional chapter I thought you’d find fascinating. In Bathilda’s original manuscript, there’s a chapter on the use of house-elf labor to run Hogwarts.”

"That section was omitted by her editors because it was deemed too political.

Considering the contributions of house-elves during the war and the recent republication of *Hogwarts: A History*, I thought you might find this useful in advocating for legal reform for house-elves, especially since you mentioned that’s why you want to work in the Department of Magical Creatures."

Hermione stared at the book in silence for a moment, her fingers gently gripping the edges of the leather cover. "Draco—" She turned to him, her eyes shining.

"I don’t even have the words. God, I love you."