My Daughter (Dramione)

Chapter 22 (Updated)

Chapter 22 *2021 Update*

Malfoy Manor. It housed many generations of Malfoys. From Armand Malfoy, the first Malfoy to arrive in England to Lucius Abraxas Malfoy and now heir, Draco Lucius Malfoy has resided in the Elizabethan home. Not only was it a part of history it also showed the prestige of the old family. The Malfoys have always prided themselves in their pure lineage but the pride of the family came with a price. As the Second Wizarding War reached its climax the home housed one of the most dangerous wizards. Instead of a home that showed the elegance of pure life, it has been tainted by the powers of darkness. The halls that once entertained parties and soirees are now tainted with the memory of a massacre. It took a total of three years to completely rid the home of its bloody history.

Despite clearing the place, one could faintly hear the screams of agony and torture. The walls nor the paintings have not completely forgotten what they witnessed. The only way it could be fully clear is to let the light it but Draco had to move out leaving Lucius, Narcissa, and house elves to occupy and roam the manor. On this particular day, however, Lucius was out of the manor for business. Narcissa Malfoy was inside her own study holding yet another red envelope. Every day a new one came but it had the same message. The letter she was holding however was from yesterday's mail.

"Another letter, Mistress." The house elf slowly approached the desk and placed the tray of letters.

Upon seeing the red envelopes, Narcissa snarled. Without uttering a single syllable the tray of red letters erupted into flames startling the little elf. The elf panicked and quickly threw the burning envelope into the fireplace. Narcissa noticed the elf still glued in front of the fireplace. She stood from her chair and to her horror, the envelopes, and their contents were still intact. The words written on charmed stationery glowed in the fire.

You Can Never Run From What You Did.

Skilled. Whoever was behind these letters was clearly skilled in magic. It's best not to underestimate the culprit. Someone knows. The past was slowly creeping into the present.

Flashback

"Push!" The healer encouraged the young woman. The young woman screamed and let out another push.

"I can see the head. Give me one more big push."

Despite being completely exhausted, the woman gripped the rails and pushed with all of her remaining might. An infant's cry filled the room and the mother fell back on the bed completely drained of her strength.

With blurry vision, she watched as the healer and matrons wrapped the little one in pink blankets.

"It's a girl." Said the healer as she cradled the baby in her arms.

The young woman felt another contraction erupt causing her to shoot up from her position to grip the rails of the labor table. One more. She said to herself and gathered what's left of her strength for one more big push. It was like the gods were listening to her and she finally gave birth to another baby.

"It's a boy." Said one of the matrons and wrapped a blue blanket around the crying baby boy.

"Good work, Miss Granger. You are a mother of twins." The healer congratulated and carefully placed the two babies beside Hermione.

Precious. That was the word that kept on repeating in her head. Despite everything that happened she didn't know what she did to deserve such a blessing. I promise to always love you and protect you.

"Rest easy Miss Granger. Your children are in good hands."

Outside the labor room was a furious-looking Narcissa Malfoy. No one dared to even approach or walk past her in fear of getting hexed or jinxed on the spot. The pureblooded witch was boiling over the fact that her son had impregnated a muggle-born witch. Despite all that has happened in the war they must keep their status. The balance had to be maintained.