Harry Potter and the Unlikely Gryffindor

Cecilia and Jerold sat open mouthed at Headmistress McGonagall's desk, utterly speechless. The two looked at each other, sharing the same astonishment.

They had been sitting here for nearly two hours as McGonagall explained to them the circumstances leading up to their daughter's abduction by a rogue professor who had killed the Headmaster last year, and was now probably scheduled to marry her cousin in short order. How in the world were they supposed to explain this to Hera's older brothers?

They were just a normal family from suburban Houston. They owned a home, had their share of debt, and had three grandchildren by their older sons. Cecilia was a stay at home mum who owned her own catering business. Jerold was a board member of a highly successful wireless equipment manufacturing company, and got to make his own hours.

Normal as normal could be, until this happened, however. Cecilia could swear her hair was getting grayer by the moment as she listened, her hand gripping her husband's so tight her knuckles had turned white. The things they were being told sounded impossible to them both. And yet they knew them to be true.

Cecilia Thomas was born Cecilia Gomez, of Ecuador. Her family had moved to the United States when she was twelve, and made a comfortable life for themselves. Cecilia was about 5'3” tall, with black hair that was shot through with gray. Her face had become filled out over the years of being married, but she was nowhere near fat. She had a pleasant olive complexion, dancing caramel eyes, and the kind of mouth that made her look like she was always smiling.

Jerold was nearly seven feet tall, with corn silk blond hair that stood straight up on his head. He had ancestors in Scandinavia and Ireland, and it showed in his shamrock green eyes, and long face that made him almost look like he belonged to the Weasley family.

Both were Catholic by birth, and had a hard time believing the letters when they first started appearing in their mail box eight years ago. But they had seen the things their daughter could do that had convinced them that there was more going on than mere possession. Theresa had convinced them of that when she had demonstrated her magic to them when they proved most skeptical.

“You see now why I had to explain this to you personally,” McGonagall asked, sighing when she got a nod from both parents. “There is more. You see, when your daughter arrived here, and was sorted into Gryffindor house, she formed a sort of bond with three other students. All seventh years. It is rare that this happens, but they formed a strong bond of friendship that enhanced their abilities. The three other students have taken it upon themselves to look for your daughter, even though we have every available resource within the Wizarding world looking for her. Frankly, I would bet my money on the three students.”

Cecilia and Jerold stared at each other. This was most definitely going to make it up on the list of 'You would not believe what just happened'.

Draco closed the door behind him, smiling smugly at himself. He patted the pocket on the left side of his long jacket. He strode to his own bed chambers that he would soon share with Hera.

Locking his chamber doors behind him, Draco pulled out a small panel in the wall, replacing the empty vial in his pocket with a full one stored in the false wall. This was Draco Malfoy's secret to winning his betrothed. Truth be told, by the time he was finished with the batch, she would be so weak of mind he could order her to jump off of the top seats at the World Cup Quiddich pitch and she would obey with a smile and a kiss.

His father would have rather Draco won Hera the old fashioned way, through romance and wooing. But Draco was never a patient person. If he was going to marry and be expected to produce a child within the first year, him and his wife had to be on more than just speaking terms.

At least that was the reason he gave his father. The real reason he was using the potion, had everything to do with Hera's wand.

Draco had wanted an Ebony wand like his father's, but instead all that chose him was a Black Palm. A pale imitation in Draco's mind. That and the style Hera's wand was shaped in had told Draco that there was no chance he would beat her if he had to cast a Confundus charm on her, or if she suddenly got tired of a Wizard two years her junior and decided to kill him in a duel.

Thorned vines were almost never used in the design of wands because of all the work that went into shaping the wood. Only two kinds of wood were ever shaped into thorned vines; Ebony, and Yew. Both trees were great sources of magical power. But only Yew had the power of rebirth. Ebony had the power of life, and the manipulation of it. It made sense for Lucius and Snape to have Ebony wands because of what they did. But both were structured beings, where Hera was wild, and untamed. A force of nature that could not be controlled by conventional methods, hence the unusual shape of her wand.

Both shapes strove to control both sides of her psyche. The scepter channeled the more controlled part of herself that was governed by logic and fact. The thorned vine channeled the wildness in her heart that swirled like a hurricane. Warning others of the danger of fooling around with such forces.

From what he had gleaned from 'The Official Liste of Wands and Their Designs', before some first year accidentally set the page afire, was that the design was mailable. When the wielder acquired control over both sides of themselves, the tips would merge. There would be no beginning or end to the scepter and vine. Draco was going to make sure that that merging would never happen. Otherwise, he was a dead man.

XXX

Magnolias. He had never had the pleasure of experiencing their heady aroma, but Snape had known at once what trees he was walking through in his dream. He had caught the scent in the air several times before as he had walked by Hera's door.

He did not need to intrude to know exactly what she was doing behind that door. He didn't even need to hear her soft whimpers and silent moans to know why the air felt thick. She smelt like Magnolia blooms when she was in ecstasy. And when Draco walked into the same room as her.

Damn it all, if the boy would rather turn her mind to mush than have the power of a strong woman at his side. He would never understand the kind of passion a strong willed woman would have every minute of every day.

Draco could never fathom the damage he was doing to Hera with that damned potion he was brewing. The boy had talent, Snape knew that for a fact. But he had no intelligence in the application of his potions. He was trying to find a quick fix, as always, not paying any mind to the consequences of his actions.

Perhaps, if Snape had had a few more months with Draco, he could have taught him about tact, and subtly. Given him every skill he needed to be a true Slytherin. But the boy was too focused on the prize at the end to pay any attention to the journey itself. And that was why things never turned out right for him.

It was why this would not turn out as planned. If Snape let the boy have his way, Hera would be so weak willed she would barely have the strength to speak her own words at their wedding. But even if Severus wanted to counter the potion, he would need a bit of the original brew.

But he had no desire to go snooping around Draco's personal bed chambers looking for where he kept the batch. There were only so many things the Dark Lord would tolerate from him, and so far he had managed to keep himself in Voldemort's good graces.

Perhaps that was what the dream had meant. If he meddled, he would be cast in the same boat as Hera, to be used as a tool and nothing more. But there were still so many things Hera needed to be taught. She was only a first year, and had almost no knowledge compared to Draco and the others here regarding magic.

But maybe that was how Draco wanted it, perhaps. He was so afraid of her potential as a Witch that he would rather have a puppet than a powerful woman who, if she chose, could kill him with a single spell. If that was the case, not only was Draco a fool, but he was a coward as well. If he gained her loyalty as a spouse, then there would be nothing that could drive them apart.

Severus sighed, brushing a stray strand of hair out of his face. He wouldn't even be thinking this way if he himself was not attracted to her. He had watched her from the time she had entered Hogwarts, been surprised as most to see her sorted into house Gryffindor, and watched with some semblance of pride as she demonstrated her prowess in sometimes humorous and comical ways.

It was he who had used Poly-juice to assume the identity of the gentleman who had taken over Ollivander's while said gentleman was petrified under the desk. Snape was the one who had seen first hand the wand that had chosen her. She was a true Malfoy, that much was evident from the wood.

But she also had a good heart, and was loyal to the end, hence the Phoenix talon. The talon was much different from the tail feather in that it offered much more than just protection from evil. The talon allowed her to combat even the most subtle of attacks if they were done with evil intent.

Snape furrowed his brow. Perhaps in that lay the key to getting her from under Draco's thumb. Perhaps if she were aware of the magic used against her she would be able to combat it. Snape descended the stairs to his lab, warding the door so that no one could enter without his express permission.

He was going to have to be incredibly subtle if he were to help Hera. Once she became aware that Draco was using the fumes of the Infinite Obedience potion, she would not be affected by it. And it would not be long before Draco put three and three together and fingered Snape for it.

He only hoped that the other three members of the Gryffindor Tetrid were on their way to rescue Hera, otherwise, Snape himself would have to spirit her away. He hoped this as he took out a piece of parchment and quill, tapping both twice with his wand before he set pen to paper, beginning his plan.