I asked for a boy
Hermione (Present time)
Hidden beneath the invisibility cloak, Hermione crept through the deserted streets of Muggle London. The eerie silence, broken only by crickets and the occasional hoot of an owl, amplified her sense of isolation. The enchanted streetlamps, their warm glow fading with each step away from the Leaky Cauldron, did little to dispel the encroaching darkness.
After Rodolphus's screams subsided, she'd Flooed to Diagon Alley, relieved to find it deserted. Now, she navigated the desolate streets, resisting the urge to cast a Lumos charm. The chill in the air and the looming, empty buildings quickened her pace. Despite living here for nearly a year, being alone in this ghost town still unnerved her. London, a once vibrant city, was now a somber reminder of Voldemort's reign.
A year of intense training had honed her magic, but it remained unpredictable. She gripped her wand, her knuckles bone white.
Reaching the dilapidated complex, she quickly scanned the surroundings before unlocking the front doors with her wand. She climbed the dimly lit stairs, her footsteps echoing in the stillness, until she reached the fourth floor. With a wave of her wand, and her flat's door creaked open.
Only once safely inside did she shed the cloak, collapsing onto the floor in a heap. She flexed her wand hand, then unraveled her braid, letting her curls tumble free. Exhaustion tugged at her, but she had to update her friends and return the cloak.
She left her flat and climbed the stairs to the seventh floor. Three knocks, a pause, then a final knock. A pair of familiar green eyes peered cautiously from the opening door.
"Hermione! Thank Merlin," Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "We were so worried. You were gone far longer than expected." He pulled her into the apartment by her jumper, securing the door with a quick locking charm. She handed him the cloak, but instead of taking it, he let it fall, enveloping her in a tight embrace. "I'm so glad you're safe," he murmured into her shoulder.
They walked down the hallway, the soft strains of music and the dying embers of the fireplace welcoming them into the spacious flat. Four familiar faces, etched with worry, visibly relaxed as she entered the dimly lit living area. They stood around the kitchen island, anxiously awaiting her return.
Hermione had met Harry a week after escaping Malfoy Manor. Six harrowing nights spent hiding in alleys and under bridges had nearly ended in capture by Draco's soldiers. But something about Harry inspired instant trust. When he'd offered his hand, she'd taken it without hesitation. He'd brought her here, to this abandoned Muggle complex, and introduced her to his friends.
Ron, Ginny, Neville, and Luna were now her family. They were part of the resistance, the Order of the Phoenix, and now, so was she. After Voldemort's victory and Dumbledore's death, the Order had crumbled, but Harry and his friends had spent years rebuilding it, preparing for the final battle against the Dark Lord. Then, in an unexpected twist, Draco had killed Voldemort and seized power himself.
In the wake of Voldemort's downfall, London erupted in celebration. Hope bloomed, a collective belief that their new leader, Draco Malfoy, would restore the world they'd lost. Order members, long forced into hiding, could finally emerge and savor life's simple pleasures.
Draco was hailed as a hero, but the euphoria was short-lived. Whispers of the caste system, a rigid hierarchy based on magical power, replaced the initial optimism. The Order, recognizing the danger of Draco's regime, began plotting his removal, aiming to reinstate the fallen Ministry of Magic.
The wizarding world remained divided. Draco's supporters saw the caste system as a progressive step, replacing outdated notions of blood purity with a quantifiable measure of magical strength. But for others, the loss of freedom under Draco's rule was a bitter pill to swallow. They were unaware of the true reason for his draconian policies, yet fear and respect for the only known Level 10 wizard kept most in line. Draco's unmatched power, his mastery of Legilimency and wandless magic, made him an unassailable force.
Hermione had kept her true purpose for visiting the manor a secret. Though framed as a reconnaissance mission, her desire to find Arys remained her own.
Ginny pulled Hermione into a tight hug. She closed her eyes, savoring the comfort of her friend's touch. Ginny guided her to a plush sofa, and the others followed suit, finally allowing themselves to exhale.
After a moment, Ginny's gentle voice broke the silence. "Hermione, are you feeling up to telling us about tonight? If you'd rather wait until morning, we completely understand."
"No, no, it's alright," Hermione replied, her hands twisting nervously in her lap.
Panic clawed at her throat. How could she explain keeping such a monumental secret from them for an entire year? There was no easy way, so she decided to plunge right in.
"The truth is... I haven't been completely honest with you."
She met their confused gazes, her breath hitching in her chest. Luna, sensing her distress, crossed the room and knelt beside her, taking her hand in a reassuring squeeze.
"Would you like some tea, Hermione?" Luna's voice was a soothing balm.
"No, thank you, Luna," Hermione managed a weak smile. "If I don't say this now, I might never find the courage."
She paused, her eyes finding a small crack in the wall to focus on. Then, the words tumbled out. "Draco Malfoy has a brother. A twin brother."
When Hermione finally lifted her gaze, four pairs of eyes stared back at her, widened in a mixture of astonishment and disbelief. The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken questions.
"I suppose I should start from the beginning," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
****
Hermione (Age 10)
"I asked for a boy." Lucius Malfoy's voice dripped with disgust as he glared at Severus Snape, before he cast a disdainful glance at Hermione.
Hermione shrank back, her dark curls shielding her tear-stained face. She tried to hide behind Snape, but he gently nudged her forward. She curtsied awkwardly, her shiny black shoes scuffing the floor.
"No suitable males were available within your requested age range," Snape drawled. "Rest assured, she is quite civilized."
Her cheeks burned under Lucius's silent scrutiny.
"Very well," Lucius finally conceded with an irritated wave of his hand. "You may go."
Snape turned and vanished with a sharp crack, leaving Hermione alone with Lucius. She fidgeted with her blue lace dress, her gaze fixed on the ground.
Suddenly, black dragonhide boots appeared in her peripheral vision. Lucius's hand gripped her shoulder, his touch cold and firm. She flinched, her brown eyes meeting his steely grey ones.
"What is your name?" he demanded.
"Her-Hermione," she stammered.
"How terribly unfortunate," Lucius remarked, his tone flat.
Without another word, he spun them around, and they Apparated away.
She found herself in a meadow, surrounded by wildflowers taller than she was. The air hummed with the distant sound of running water. Lucius's grip remained firm as he led her toward a charming stone cottage nestled amidst a sprawling garden. Smoke curled from the chimney, carrying the sweet scent of baking.
"Mippy!" Lucius's voice boomed across the meadow.
With a loud pop, an elf appeared before them, startling Hermione.
"Yes, master?" the elf bowed deeply.
"Take this child to Master Arys," Lucius instructed. "She is to be his new companion."
"Yes, master," Mippy replied. "And for how long is miss to be staying?"
"Indefinitely." With that, Lucius turned and disapparated, leaving Hermione and Mippy alone in the meadow.
Her stomach rumbled, her gaze lingering on the cottage.
"Would Miss like to come in for some pie?" Mippy's voice was cheerful. "We baked it special for Master Arys's birthday."
Pie? She had never tasted it before. "Yes, please," she said shyly.
Mippy beamed and took her hand, leading her up the steps and into the cozy cottage. "Oh, Master Arys will be so happy to finally have a friend!"
Inside, the cottage was surprisingly spacious. The living room boasted two large corduroy sofas and a coffee table overflowing with unfamiliar books and games. Golden sunlight streamed through the windows, and the old floorboards creaked under their feet as they headed towards the enticing aroma wafting from the kitchen.
The kitchen windows were flung open, birdsong drifting in from the nearby apple tree. A large wooden table occupied the center, where a lone boy sat, his back to them. His dark hair shone in the sunlight as he scribbled furiously in a leather-bound journal.
"Mippy?" he asked, turning in his chair. "Was that Lucius I hea—" His voice caught in his throat when he finally noticed her. His eyes, the most brilliant blue she'd ever seen, widened in surprise, and his quill clattered to the floor. After a stunned pause, he jumped up, sending his chair tumbling backward with a loud crash.
They stared at each other, the silence stretching between them. Finally, he took a few hesitant steps forward, his hand twitching at his side. He reached out, his touch feather-light as he brushed a stray curl from her face. She held her breath, surprised by the lack of fear she felt.
He lowered his hand, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Mippy?" he asked, seeking an explanation.
"Master Lucius says Miss is to be staying here with you, Master Arys. She is to be your friend."
"Friend..." The word sounded strange on his lips, unfamiliar and full of wonder.
Hermione's gaze flicked nervously to the pie. "Happy birthday," she blurted out.