The Missing Link

Time Apart

Draco still didn't talk to Hermione several days after the accident. They tried to stay as far away from each other as possible, to avoid themselves from clawing each other's eyes out. They were forced to mingle once they were summoned by King Lucius himself.

"Your Highness," Draco and Hermione said, bowing in unison. When Hermione lifted her head, she started to feel sorry for the man who had once tormented her.

His skin was pale with a greenish tinge, and there were pink spots all over his body. Hermione's guess was that this was a relapse of his Dragon Pox, which he'd been unfortunate to get at such an old age. His eyes were also watery, and his lips chapped.

"Children, take a seat," he said. The couple followed.

"H-How are you doing?" Hermione asked hesitantly.

"Not well, Princess," he replied with some amount of sincere respect. "I have something I require you to do."

They moved a bit closer to better hear what he was about to say.

"I have a scheduled visit to one of our comrades—Bulgaria," he began. "As it stands, I am ill. I want you to go in my stead for the new Wizarding Union. Give King Nikolas my regards."

"I'll go, Your Highness," Draco said immediately. "The princess must stay to continue her studies. She has a lot more to accomplish. I however, am far less busy."

Hermione bit her lip to stop herself from commenting.

"Very well then," the king replied. "That will be all." The couple stood up, bowed and turned to leave."

Hermione was about to give Draco a piece of her mind, but as soon as they arrived back to their palace, he made a beeline for his room and slammed it shut. It was clear that he was still mad at her.

"Why can't I tag along?" Hermione asked Edison later that night.

"The Prince hasn't made it very clear," he began, "but I believe he wants you to focus on your studies."

"'Focus on my studies,'" Hermione repeated with a scoff. "He's just upset with what happened at the Pitch."

Edison smiled. "I couldn't blame His Highness," he said. "Not that I am siding with him, or that I disagree with you coming to Dragon's aid. But I would have liked my wife to fuss over me if I had an injury like that."

_________________________________________________________

The boy with blond hair skipped across the palace gardens, bouncing his toy Bludger with one hand and holding his Beater's bat with the other. It had been a month since his father died, and his mum told him not to worry.

And so, he followed her orders. He continued studying, he continued playing outside with his cousin. He was really sad at first, but there was no need to be sad. "There's no use for it," his father always said.

"Hello, Edison!" the boy greeted merrily upon seeing their butler outside the palace doors.

"Hello there, Dragon," he replied. This was new. Edison always called him Prince, even though he'd asked him very nicely not to. Dragon was not complaining, though. Edison finally gave in after so long.

"Can Draco come out and play?" he asked.

"Draco—I mean, the um, Prince is in his room. Would you like to ask him yourself?" Again, this was new to him. Since when did Edison call Draco Prince?

But again, he didn't mind.

"Yes please."

Draco's door, which was almost always open and never locked, was now shut. Dragon turned the knob, but it wouldn't open. This was peculiar indeed. He knocked on the door three times. Bang! Bang! Bang!