1994
Draco, now in his fourth year at Hogwarts, paced nervously in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor. He had made up his mind—tonight was the night he would confront his father.
Lucius Malfoy dressed in impeccably tailored robes, carried himself with an air of authority. Draco swallowed hard, gathering his courage.
“Father,” Draco began. “I need to talk to you about something important.”
Lucius raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “And what could be so important that it interrupts my evening? Speak quickly.”
Draco took a deep breath. “It’s about house-elves. I’ve been reading about this organization called S.P.E.W.—the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. I think we should support it.”
Lucius’s expression darkened instantly. “Support house-elves? Draco, that’s nonsense. They exist to serve us, not to be coddled. This is a waste of your time.”
“No, it’s not!” Draco shot back, surprising himself with his boldness. “They work hard for us, and they deserve better. It’s not fair that they receive no pay and have no rights. We have the power to change that.”
Lucius stepped closer, his voice low and dangerous. “You will not disgrace our family name with such foolishness. This S.P.E.W. nonsense is for sentimental Gryffindors, not for Malfoys. We are purebloods, Draco. We are meant to rise above those who are deemed less. House-elves understand their place. They are not equals; they are subservient.”
Draco felt a rush of frustration. “But Father, that’s exactly why I want to support it! Just because we’re pureblood doesn’t mean we should treat others poorly. It’s not right!”
Lucius’s gaze narrowed, and he placed a hand on Draco’s shoulder, forcing him to meet his eyes. “Listen to me, boy. Our family has a reputation to uphold. Weakness is not tolerated. If you want to be a Malfoy, you will learn your place and stop this nonsense immediately. What you’re proposing is treachery against our heritage.”
Draco refused to back down. “I don’t want to be part of that. I want to make a difference. Just because we have money and status doesn’t mean we should look down on those who don’t! Being a Malfoy shouldn’t mean embracing cruelty.”
Lucius’s face turned crimson with anger. “How dare you speak to me in such a manner! You are a Malfoy! Remember your heritage! Our blood is superior, and it is our duty to maintain that superiority. By sympathizing with the likes of house-elves, you are putting our lineage at risk!”
“I’m trying to remember my humanity!” Draco countered, his voice rising. “I want to be better than that! I don’t want to follow blindly. If we have the power to help others, then we should.”
Lucius’s expression shifted from anger to something resembling concern, though it was hard to tell whether it was for his son or for himself. “You think you know better than me? You think you’re capable of making such decisions? You’re a child, Draco. You have no idea how the world works. The wizarding world relies on bloodlines, and the status of our family is everything. If we start granting rights to house-elves, what’s next? Supporting those half-bloods who believe they have a claim to our world? Or worse, mudbloods”
Draco felt a mixture of rebellion and sadness. “Maybe I’m just starting to understand the world better than you think,” he said quietly. “I want to be someone who stands up for what’s right, not just what’s expected.”
With that, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, leaving Lucius standing in stunned silence. As Draco walked away, Lucius’s voice rang out behind him.
“In a few months, you will learn, Draco. Purity always conquers. Remember that.”
2001
"Draco? Are you alright?" Hermione asked, her hand squeezing his.
He looked at her then, still lost in thoughts, "yes love" and then he smiled his brilliant smile.
"Where were you just now?" Hermione wondered, sometimes he would get this look as if he is somewhere far away.
"Do you remember S.P.E.W?" He asked as he hugged her closer.
She laughed "yeah, I was actually planning on talking to you about it. When you were in the coma your mother mentioned you pay the elves and that in fourth year you mentioned S.P.E.W to your father and it did not go well.
He scoffed "well that's an understatement"
"Tell me, I want to know that boy, the one I know you had you had to hide back then" he caressed her cheek "how is it that you know how to make it all right?"
"Magic" she answered and they both laughed.
Draco exhaled slowly, his fingers tracing idle patterns on Her arm as they lay curled together. The gentle glow of the fire flickered in the room, casting soft shadows on the walls.
“You really want to hear about that?” he asked, tilting his head to look at her.
“Yes,” Hermione said, her voice firm but gentle. “I want to know you, the one you hid behind the mask when we were young."
Draco chuckled softly, shaking his head. “He was a bit of a tosser”
“I doubt that.” She smiled, urging him to continue.
He sighed, staring at the ceiling for a moment before beginning. “Alright. Fourth year, I was an arrogant little git, but… I heard you talking about S.P.E.W., and, well, something about it made sense to me.”
Hermione’s eyes widened. “You heard me talking about it?”
He smirked. “Of course. You never shut up about it.”
She swatted his arm playfully, and he caught her hand, bringing it to his lips. “But really, I thought you were brilliant. You had this fire in you—so sure you were right, so unwilling to let anyone tell you otherwise. And it made me think.”
Hermione’s breath hitched slightly, surprised by the honesty in his voice.
Draco continued, “So, one night on the break, I marched into my father’s study, sure I could convince him. I told him we should support house-elves, that it was the right thing to do. He shut me down immediately, of course. Told me elves were beneath us, that I was disgracing the Malfoy name. But I argued. I actually stood there, arguing with Lucius Malfoy about house-elves.” He scoffed at the memory.
Hermione squeezed his hand. “That took courage.”
Draco shook his head. “It was stupidity, mostly. He was livid. He said purity always conquers, and that I’d learn that soon enough, I think he knew what was to come.” His voice grew quieter. “And then, a few months later, Voldemort came back.”
Hermione’s heart clenched. “Draco…”
His grip on her hand tightened slightly. “That’s when I learned how naive I had been. I couldn’t keep fighting him—not if I wanted to keep my mother safe. So I put on the mask. I became the Malfoy heir he wanted, said all the right things, played the part.” He exhaled sharply. “But every time I looked at a house-elf, I thought about how you were right. Every time I heard you ranting about injustice, I thought about how brilliant you were. I just… I couldn’t be like you. Not then.”
Hermione shifted, cupping his face in her hands. “But you are now,” she whispered.
He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch. “Yeah,” he murmured. “And it only took a war, a coma, and you in my life”
"You changed the way you treated your elfs without me" she countered. "Still you love, I think I was always ment to be yours, now I am" he kissed her softly.
She laughed softly, brushing her thumb across his cheek. “Magic,” she whispered.
Draco opened his eyes, a slow smirk forming on his lips. “Magic,” he agreed, before pulling her close and kissing her like she was the most precious thing in the world is.