Harry Potter 1. Chapter 1

**AN:**

*** * * Please Read * * ***

**This is my first attempt at HP fanfiction, so I hope it will be received well. I will not be posting AN's at the beginning of each chapter, so this will be the only AN for this story.**

**Disclaimer – I do not own HP or the characters. Those are JKR's. I drew inspiration for this story from an old NCIS episode. Otherwise, the storyline is mine. **

**Rating – The Token is rated M for language, violence, and sex. There are also mentions of torture and rape (no graphical descriptions). Be warned now, if that kind of thing bothers you, please don't read.**

**Characters – This is a Dramione story. Ron fans might want to go away now.**

**Posting – The story is completely written. There is a prologue, 19 chapters, and an epilogue. Most chapters are around 3,000 – 3,500 words, so kind of short by some standards but that length works out best for me.**

**Posting Schedule – The posting schedule is very important to me. I am posting this story as a tribute to my mom. ****Two years ago today, on July 13th, 2012, a CT scan revealed a tumor in the middle of her brain. It was later diagnosed as stage 4 glioblastoma brain cancer. She passed away ten weeks later. Mom loved reading, and she loved reading my stories. When she got sick, I stopped writing. A few months ago I had the urge to start writing again and The Token was born. In her memory, I am posting the Prologue today, on the anniversary of the day they found her tumor. I will post every Wednesday and Sunday for the next ten weeks. The Epilogue will be posted on September 21st, the two-year anniversary of her passing. So this one's for you, Mom. I love you, and miss you so very much. **

**Reviews – Feel free to leave me a note to tell me what you think of the story. I will read and respond to all reviews, and I always love to hear what you all think. **

**I think that's about all for my author's notes. A big thank you to Jenny for pre-reading and beta'ing the story for me. I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. **

****

* * * The Token * * *

**{ ****Prologue ****}**

Draco Malfoy practically fell out of the fireplace with sheer exhaustion. The clock struck one o'clock in the morning as he stood and dusted himself off. He had been working a late shift with Potter, patrolling Knockturn Alley. They were both members of the MLE, Magical Law Enforcement. There had been a rash of break-ins in recent days, along with thefts of several dark items. As a result, all patrols had been increased. Draco was feeling it in every bone in his body.

He collapsed onto the couch heavily and felt his eyelids sliding closed. Sweet sleep beckoned and he was ready to heed the call.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

His eyes flew open and his hand grasped his wand at the sound. Immediately he was alert, all evidence of exhaustion forgotten in a rush of adrenaline.

It didn't take him long to discover what was causing the offensive noise. An owl, small, brown and nondescript, sat on the windowsill and held an envelope in his grasp. The bird stared at him with a look that clearly said "it's about damn time, now what the hell are you waiting for?"

He released a breath that he hadn't even realized he was holding as he slid his wand back into it's holster. Mumbling something about damn ruddy birds, he made his way to the window and took the package from the owl. The owl didn't fly away immediately, which meant it was waiting for a reply.

_Great, _he thought. Sleep would have to wait.

He returned to the couch and examined the envelope in his hands. It was completely blank, no indication that he was the intended receiver at all. There was a bulge in the package, indicating there was some sort of object inside, and it had some weight to it. He retrieved his wand once again and performed a series of charms over the envelope, looking for any sign of magic, charms or curses. Finding nothing, he slowly opened the seal and looked inside.

His eyebrows furrowed as he reached his hand into the envelope and wrapped his fingers around a rock. The rock, or more precisely the piece of stone, was about the size of his hand. One side was smooth, cut and shaped to precision. The other side was rough, jagged. On the smooth side, a date had been carved.

His hand tightened around the stone and he closed his eyes as he inhaled sharply. The date, that date, would be carved into the wizarding world forever. The Final Battle, The Battle of Hogwarts, the day Harry Potter fulfilled his destiny, the day Voldemort was defeated once and for all. Different people remembered it different ways.

For Draco, it would forever be the day that Hermione Granger had saved his life, twice, and he had sworn to return the favor someday.

The piece of stone in his hand, a piece of rubble from Hogwarts, from the exact wall that had nearly crushed him, and would have if Granger hadn't pushed him out of the way. It was a reminder. A reminder of the debt he owed. After all, he owed his life to her, and now she intended to collect.

He stared at the stone, at the token of his debt, for many minutes. His mind went back to that fateful day, five and a half years ago.

He hadn't wanted to be there. In truth, he had lost his faith in the Dark Lord long before the final battle. He knew the blood purity bullshit that he had been taught his whole life was just that, bullshit. He needed to look no further than Hermione Granger to figure that one out. She was the brightest witch of their age, true, but she was also brave and beautiful and strong.

He had watched in horror as his Aunt Bellatrix tortured the girl mercilessly on his own Drawing Room floor. Her eyes had locked onto his and he had wished there was some way he could save her. There was nothing he could do, though. Any course of action he could think of would only result in both of them being dead. So he did nothing but watch and hope for it to end soon. Despite the horror he felt in those moments, he also began to feel something else. Pride. She never cracked under torture. She never told Bellatrix what she wanted to hear. He was proud of her for that. He had never seen anything like it. Once again, she had proven to him that she was better than most pureblood witches and wizards.

When Potter and Weasel rescued her, Draco never even put up a fight. He was too relieved. Relieved to see them rescue her before worst could happen. He was so relieved, he just handed his wand over to Potter.

The day at Hogwarts came soon after. He had been attending classes, otherwise he never would have been on the castle grounds. He didn't want to fight. He didn't want to die. He didn't want to watch others die around him. Unfortunately, he didn't have a choice. He had to fight. He had to watch others fight and die.

He was in a fourth floor hallway when it happened. The Death Eater behind the mask started taunting him, telling him he was a blood traitor, a disappointment, a liability. It wasn't the first Death Eater he had fought that day, but she was, by far, the deadliest. Bellatrix LeStrange. They dueled for several long minutes and he was starting to wear down when he felt someone beside him. He didn't dare look away from Bellatrix to see who it was, but he heard her firing curses off and he knew it was her.

The two of them fought together against the deranged witch, side by side. Finally Hermione had managed to hit her with a _stupefy_, but not before she sent a _reducto_ flying in his direction. Hermione saw it coming and jumped in front of him, throwing up a shield charm. The curse hit the shield and ricocheted into the wall beside them. It hit the wall with the force of an explosion.

Draco had just enough time to think "_that curse was supposed to hit me_" before Hermione was shoving him backwards and they both tumbled into a separate hallway. The wall and ceiling collapsed right onto the spot they had been standing in only moments before.

They sat in the hallway, side by side, as they each caught their breath and let the realization of their near death experience sink in.

"Why?" He asked her quietly. Why did she fight beside him? Why did she save his life? Why was she still sitting next to him? Why, why, why?

"Because it would seem that you've finally pulled your head out of your ass, Malfoy." She grinned into the dim light of the hallway, letting her head fall back against the stone wall as they both caught their breath.

His hand found purchase on a piece of loose stone and he picked it up. He studied it for a long while before he pointed his wand at the smooth surface and gently edged the date into the stone.

"I owe you my life, Granger." He held the stone in his hand and pressed it into her palm. Her brown eyes widened as they held the stone between their hands. "Do you accept this stone as a token of my debt, to be held until such time that the debt can be repayed?"

Her eyes searched his as the stone became uncomfortably warm between them. A Wizarding debt was not something to take lightly. By offering and accepting the token, they would be linking themselves together magically for possibly the rest of their lives.

With a deep breath she squeezed her hand around the stone.

"I accept your token." As she uttered the final words of the incantation, the warmth from the stone broke free and traveled through their hands to suffuse their bodies with a warm electrical like charge. The effect lasted only a moment and then they were left sitting in a hallway, surrounded by rubble while a battle raged on beyond the walls.

They had not spoken of the debt or the token since then, but he had known this day was coming. He knew what he needed to do to repay the debt. He also knew that it was his choice. She would never make him do it.

The owl screeched to remind him that it was still waiting for his reply. If he sent the token back in the envelope, he would in effect be declining her request for help. If he sent the envelope back empty, she would know that he was ready to repay the debt and he would do whatever he could to save her life.

He ran his fingers through his blonde hair and glanced at the clock again. It was now almost two o'clock in the morning, and apparently the next day was going to be a very long day. He stood, handed the envelope to the owl, and watched as it flew out the window, carrying a wordless message back to the witch that no one had seen or heard from in over two years.

The token weighed heavily against his palm.


	2. Chapter 2

**{ ****Chapter One ****}**

_Third Anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts_

Draco stood along the wall in the ballroom, watching the guests as they mingled together. Dinner had already been served and people were beginning to socialize as they waited for the Minister to give his annual speech about a job well done at the Battle, as well as the ongoing clean up effort.

Although Draco had been invited to the ball, he was there not as a guest but as security. There were four MLE agents stationed around the room. Himself, Dean Thomas, Theo Nott and Cho Chang were keeping a watchful eye over the guests and ensuring that no one without an invitation from the Minister was granted access. So far it had been a pretty quiet evening.

Theo stood next to him along the wall and the two chatted away as they scanned the room. Draco had been out of town for well over a year working on various assignments and had only returned home a few days earlier. He used this time with Theo to get up to speed on all of the latest news. Such as Pansy and Blaise getting engaged, or Astoria having her first little Goyle baby.

Sometime later, after the dancing had started, they started to weave their way through the crowd. That's when he saw her. Along the edge of the dance floor Harry Potter stood with his hands on a small brunette witch's waist. Her hands were tentatively placed on his shoulders and she looked as though she was trying to stand as far away from him as possible. She looked small, frail, weak. Draco had to stare at her long and hard before he realized why she looked familiar. It was Hermione Granger. It was her, but it wasn't. It was more like a ghost of what she used to be.

Her eyes. Her brown eyes that he remembered as being full of life and fire and spark, were dead, dull, lifeless.

"Mione, you look terrible. You need to go to St. Mungo's. Something isn't right. I haven't seen you in months, then you come tonight and you look like a damn zombie. Why didn't Ron tell me you were sick?"

She pulled her hands away from his shoulders and stepped away from him.

"I'm fine Harry. Don't worry about me, okay?" Even her voice sounded flat.

Draco watched as she turned and walked away into the crowd. For some reason he couldn't get her face out of his mind. What had happened to her?

An hour later the party was still going strong as Draco and Theo stepped outside to do their perimeter check. They needed to check all the outside entrances and make sure they were still sealed and warded shut. They had made it halfway around the building, almost to the rear entrance when they heard a noise.

It was a soft sound, somewhere between a moan and a sob. They preceded cautiously towards the sound, aware that it could be a trap. There was no way for Draco to be prepared for what they saw in front of them.

A woman, beaten, bloody and broken, lie on the ground. Draco knelt down beside her and gently moved the brown hair away from her face. Her eyes were open, they were looking right at him, but they didn't see him. For one heart-stopping moment he thought that she was dead, until she inhaled shallowly and whimpered in pain. Her eyes focused on him finally and he saw recognition there, and maybe relief, before they flitted closed.

Theo searched the surrounding area, but found no sign of the perpetrator. Once he was convinced no one was hiding in the shadows, he knelt down next to the woman on the opposite side of Draco. It took him longer to recognize the body lying in front of him.

"Holy shit! Draco, that's…"

"Hermione Granger. I know." He ran a hand through his hair as his mind calculated what needed to be done next. "Take her to St. Mungo's. I'll alert Dean and Cho to secure the scene, then I'll let Potter and Weasel know what happened. Wait with her at the hospital."

Theo didn't hesitate to follow orders, gathering Hermione into his arms and disapperating immediately. Draco sent off a message to Dean and Cho and waited for them to arrive before he headed back into the ballroom to find Harry Potter and Ron Weasley.

He found Harry sitting at a table with Luna Lovegood. They were not talking to each other. She was watching people dance. He was watching his bottle cap spin around and around and around. He actually jumped when Draco put a hand on his shoulder and sat in the chair next to him.

"Oy Malfoy! You about gave me a heart attack!" His hand flew up to cover his chest and his green eyes widened in surprise and then embarrassment at being caught off guard. That was a big no-no in the MLE.

"Potter. Sorry to distract you from the amazing bottle-cap there, but I've got to talk to you about something." He smirked at the man beside him. In the two years that they had worked together, they had put aside their animosity and learned to get along. Neither would go so far as to call it friendship, but they weren't enemies anymore either.

"Sure. What's up." Harry shrugged non-commitally before looking into Draco's eyes. Something he saw there made a cold chill go down his spine and he sat forward immediately. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Draco wasn't sure how in the hell he was supposed to break this news, and he was even less sure why he had volunteered for the job. He ran his hand through his hair and inhaled deeply, thinking he should probably just get it over with. Then he thought it would probably be easier to tell them both at the same time.

"Have you seen Ron anywhere? I have something to tell both of you, actually."

Harry's eyes narrowed when he said Ron's name. Damn, he should have said Weasel instead. Dead give away that something was very wrong.

"No, I haven't seen him for the last half hour? Forty five minutes? I don't know. He was with Hermione last time I saw either of them, and they were fighting again." He sighed deeply, not even realizing that Draco's eyes had just widened and his hand had tightened into a fist.

"Really? What were they fighting about this time?" Draco kept his voice steady, almost bored, even though he was on the edge of his seat waiting for the answer.

"I don't even know if I can say they were fighting? Ron was yelling at her about her weight of all things. She was just sitting there. She didn't argue with him at all. Anyway they went out back for some air. I haven't seen them since."

"Isn't that Ron, dancing with Lavender?" Luna's soft voice carried across the music and the two men at the table looked at her in surprise. They had both forgotten she was even there. Draco's eyes searched the floor and sure enough, he found the weasel dancing with Lavender Brown.

"Thanks Luna." Draco nodded at her once before walking on to the dance floor and stopping the couple mid-twirl.

"Mr. Weasley, I need to speak with you for a moment." He used his best 'official business' voice as he gently pulled the weasel off the dance floor.

"What the hell are you on about?" he practically screeched. Draco ignored him and continued to drag him out of the ballroom and into an empty office across the hall. Harry followed along, curious as to what was going on.

"There's no easy way for me to say this, really. Hermione Granger has been attacked. She's at St. Mungo's now. Theo is with her. I don't have any information about her condition or the person that attacked her."

"What? When? Where? Why?" Harry stuttered out questions as his legs collapsed and he sunk into the nearest chair. His face had gone completely white and his green eyes stared straight ahead but were a million miles away.

"Weasley." Ron said into the quiet that followed. He stood against the door, his fingers tapping anxiously against the side table.

"What was that?" Draco stared at him in confusion.

"I said, her name is Hermione Weasley, not Granger." Ron's blue eyes were as cold as ice as he glared at Draco.

"I would think you would have more important details to focus on right now than whether or not I said her name right, Weasley. Your wife is in the hospital right now, possibly dying, and all you're worried about is if I know she's married to you? Yeah, I know. It slipped my mind."

Draco's hands were tightening into fists at his side. What the hell had Granger ever seen in the weasel standing before him? He had no idea.

"What do you know, Malfoy?" Harry's voice interrupted the heated silence and brought Draco back down to earth.

"Not much. Theo and I were doing the perimeter check. Cho and Dean did the same check an hour ago and saw nothing, so the attack had to have happened in the last hour. She had been beaten. There was a lot of blood. Her clothes were torn. She was conscious when we found her, but barely. When she saw us, she lost consciousness."

"I'm going to the hospital." Harry looked sick as he stood and left the room. Ron followed him out and Draco started on the long task of interviewing people at the ball that might have seen or heard something. Of course, he came up empty.

It was several hours later before he was able to wrap up at the Ministry and apparate to St. Mungo's. The waiting room was full of Weasley's, of course. There were Molly and Arthur, George, Bill and Ginny, all sitting together on one side of the room. Harry and Luna were sitting along the opposite wall and Theo was sitting next to the door like a guard. Good. That's right where he was supposed to be.

Draco took a seat next to Harry.

"How is she? Have you heard anything yet?"

Harry leaned back against the wall and stretched his legs in front of him.

"She's alive. That's about all we know right now."

Draco nodded that he understood and settled back in the hard plastic chair to wait along with the rest of the group. He let his eyes wander, taking in each appearance, for several minutes before his tired mind realized that someone was missing.

"It seems we're missing a Weasley. Where is the loving husband, anyway?" The low murmur of voices in the waiting room stopped immediately, leaving nothing but heavy silence in it's wake. Potter's hand had curled into a tight fist, he noticed, and his eyes were hard, narrowed, and focused on a nameless point across the room.

"He said he doesn't like hospitals." Luna's soft voice sounded sad in the echoing silence. The words she didn't speak were even sadder. Ron Weasley was not at the hospital. Even though his wife had been beaten to within an inch of her life, he had not come to see if she would live or die.

"So he left already? He went home?" Draco needed to clarify her words, as one usually did with Luna.

"Left? The asshole never came in the first place." It was Ginny Weasley that answered. The fire in her eyes reminded him of Hermione. Of the old Hermione, not the shell of a person he had seen tonight.

He was about to comment on what a useless fucker the Weasel was when the door opened and a healer stepped out.

After some discussion Harry, as Hermione's next-of-kin and Draco, as the lead investigator on her case, were lead into a small debriefing room.

"Mrs. Weasley is lucky to be alive, honestly. She was severly beaten and sustained several broken bones. She had a broken wrist, a broken nose and a broken rib which punctured her lung. She was sexually assaulted, raped. And it appears she was kicked several times in the stomach area."

Both men shared identical horrified stares at the news. The healer wasn't finished though.

"I'm not sure if Mrs. Weasley was even aware at this point, but she was roughly two months pregnant. We were not able to save the baby."

* * *

Four days after the attack, Draco sat in a plastic chair at the end of Hermione's bed. He had been taking shifts with Theo, Dean and Cho, guarding her and waiting for her to wake up so they could question her. She had awoken earlier in the day, but hadn't said a word. Cho had been there, then, and said that she just looked around, figured she was in the hospital, and rolled over and went back to sleep.

Draco was on the night shift, so the hospital was relatively quiet around him. There were a few medi-witches bustling about their duties, but mostly it was peaceful. So when he heard a soft voice saying his name, he nearly jumped out of his chair.

His eyes found hers in the dimly lit room. She was awake, watching him warily.

"Malfoy," she said again, a little louder. "What are you doing here?"

"Just doing my job Granger. Sorry, I mean Weasley. It's my turn to babysit you and make sure no one kills you off before you have a chance to tell us who attacked you in the first place."

Understanding flitted across her face and she wrapped her arms around herself.

"You're wasting your time. I can't tell you who attacked me."

It was possible she never saw the attacker, or that she had been obliviated after the fact. He had his suspicions, of course, but without her testimony there would be no way to convict him.

"Well, that sucks. We were kind of hoping you knew who attacked you." He sighed as he ran his hands through his hair and sat back against the plastic chair again.

She was watching him and for the briefest moment, he noticed something. A spark. A hint of fire in her eyes.

"That's not what I said, Malfoy. I said I _can't_ tell you who attacked me."

He stared at her for a moment as his mind connected the distinction.

"You can't tell me, but you know who it was, don't you?"

She didn't answer him, which he took as a confirmation. After that, silence fell over the room. She opened a book that she had stuffed in her purse and started reading. He contemplated how he could ask her who attacked her without actually asking her who did it.

It was several hours later before she broke the silence.

"Do you still translate ancient runes, Malfoy?"

He started at the sound of her voice, again.

"That's a little random, isn't it Granger?" He smirked at her, ever the bookworm, sitting in a hospital bed with her nose stuck in a book.

"Not at all. I was just curious. That's what I do now. My job, I mean. I'm translating ancient texts for the Wizarding Library of London." She rolled her eyes at him.

"Only you would find that job interesting, Granger." He smirked at her and she smirked back.

"On the contrary, Malfoy. I find it fascinating, not simply interesting. The runes we learned at Hogwarts were really just elementary. As you get into some of the older runes there are tricks you have to know, otherwise they don't make any sense. Look at this for example." She sat up on the edge of the bed and pulled the table over so it sat between them. Then she laid the book on the table, facing him and pointed to a rune at the bottom left hand corner of the page.

"See this? This rune can be positioned in any of the four corners of the page. It basically means 'begin here'. In this case it's at the bottom left, so the runes are read from bottom to top and left to right. But look here, on the next page it's positioned on the top right. So this page is read from top to bottom and right to left. That's not all, though. The pattern within the pages is significant. So all of the pages with the rune at the top right hand corner go together, while all of the pages with the rune in the bottom left go together and so on."

He listened as she went on, as though she were teaching a course on ancient runes herself. He didn't know at the time that he would need to know the things she was telling him. He was just trying to pass the time before Dean took over the morning shift and he could go home and go to sleep.

*** * * * ***


	3. Chapter 3

**{ ****Chapter Two ****}**

_Three months later_

Draco sat at his desk going through old case files that needed to be closed out and filed. He had been at it for several hours now. His head and his shoulders were aching and he wanted nothing more than to take a break, walk away from his desk for a few hours and stop thinking so damn hard.

He dramatically threw the file he was working on into the 'completed' pile and picked up the last file sitting on his desk.

"Last one, Potter!" he practically shouted in triumph.

Harry still had several files sitting in front of him, and he groaned in frustration. Draco smirked in his general direction and opened his last file.

"Damn," he muttered to himself. "It's the file on Hermione's attack."

Harry stopped what he was doing and looked up.

"No luck figuring out who did it?" he asked, even though he knew the answer. No one had been charged and the investigation had stopped almost as soon as it started.

"Just the opposite, actually." He flipped through the pictures inside the file. A little reminder of what that asshole had done to her. "I know exactly who did it, but I don't have any substantial proof. Even if I could prove it, it wouldn't do any good."

That was true. His suspicions had been strengthened in the weeks following the attack.

"What? Who?" Harry looked at him in surprise, not knowing before that moment that Malfoy even had a suspect in the case.

Draco considered him for only a moment before turning back to the file in front of him.

"Don't worry about it, Potter. Who knows, maybe I'm wrong anyway."

He debated long and hard on whether to include his suspicions in the report. Technically he was supposed to record everything in case new evidence came to light later on, his insights could be helpful. He had already written out his statement months ago, right after the attack while the events were still fresh in his mind. With a resigned sigh he added his statement to the report and magically sealed it so that only himself or the Minister of Magic himself would be able to open it.

As he dropped the file into the 'complete' pile, the office door flew open, banging loudly into the wall. Harry and Draco both looked up in alarm as Ron Weasley came barreling through the door.

"Harry! She's gone! Someone's taken her!" The redhead had panic written all over his face. Pure panic.

"Who's gone?" Harry asked, though it was obvious to both of the men who he was referring to.

"Hermione! I went home for lunch and she's not there. She's gone!"

Harry sat frozen in his seat as the words sank in. His best friend was missing. The panic that Ron was exhibiting was contagious and Harry started to feel it as well.

"I thought she worked at the library? Shouldn't she be hard at work translating some thousand year old tome or something equally as boring?" Draco sat back in his chair and watched Weasley carefully.

"No one asked your opinion, ferret!" The two glared at each other for a long moment before Harry cleared his throat.

"He has a point, Ron. Why would she be at home instead of at work?"

Ron's eyes darted back and forth between Draco and Harry. Finally he took a deep breath and turned to Harry, ignoring Draco completely.

"She quit her job months ago. She hasn't left the house since the attack."

Draco immediately remembered the night three months ago when he sat next to her in the hospital room and listened as she told him all about her job and how much she loved it. He remembered the light in her eyes when she figured out a rune she had been stuck on, or when she talked of the ciphers that were used to make sure only the intended recipient could read the message. She gave that up? Just like that, she up and quit? It wasn't possible.

"Ron! I have asked you every single day for the last three months how Hermione is doing and you never once told me that she's scared to leave the house! What the hell!"

"She didn't want anyone to worry about her, alright! I've been taking care of her. She's fine, okay? Or she has been. Now she's just gone!"

"Maybe she just decided today was a good day to take a walk. You think?" Draco was already grabbing his cloak and his badge, but he couldn't resist the opportunity to poke at the Weasel some more.

Ron watched his movements carefully, his face already reddened with anger actually deepened in color when he realized Malfoy's intention.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"The attack on Hermione is my case. If someone has taken her, it's probably the same person that assaulted her. That would make her disappearance my case as well."

Ron was still seething, but Draco made it clear that he was coming along. Harry didn't argue the point, thinking that Malfoy was probably right. It would stand to reason that maybe whoever hurt her had also been the one to kidnap her. After a bit of a standoff, the three men finally floo-ed one by one to Ron and Hermione's house.

As Draco stepped into the parlor, the first thing he noticed was how immaculately clean everything was. It surpassed clean to almost sterile. There was no 'lived in' homely feel to it. It reminded him of the Manor, and that thought alone sent cold chills down his spine.

"There's no sign of a struggle." Harry noted as they entered the bedroom. Everything was in its proper place. "Maybe Malfoy's right. She decided she had let her fear rule her long enough and it was time to leave the house. I don't see her wand anywhere, so she must have it with her."

"Harry, you don't understand! She _can't_ leave the house! She should be here!" Ron was pacing agitatedly across the bedroom floor.

"Relax, Weasel. She's probably at the bookstore. She'll be home by dinner." Draco walked around the bedroom and noted that there seemed to be a few things missing. It looked like a couple of pictures should have been hanging on the wall, but instead there were only empty hooks. Next he went into the bathroom and started looking through the cabinets. Everything was neatly organized, but on closer inspection there were things missing there also.

"Is this the bathroom that Hermione uses to get ready in the mornings?"

"Of course it is." Weasley and Harry both joined him in the small room. "Why?"

"Her personal effects are gone. There's no makeup in here. No hairbrush, either. I hate to say it, Weasley, but I don't think she was taken. I think she left on her own free will."

The color drained out of Ron's face.

"That's impossible! She can't leave!"

"The pictures of her and her parents are gone also. I'm sorry, Ron, but I think Malfoy's right."

They walked back into the bedroom where Ron sat heavily on the bed, muttering to himself about it being impossible. Harry and Draco continued to look around, searching through drawers and closets, looking for other things that could be missing. They discovered some of her clothes were gone, as well as her beaded bag with the undetectable expansion charm.

Harry opened her bedside table drawer and pulled out a leather bound journal.

"Look Ron, it's her journal. Maybe there's a clue in here as to where she went?" He tossed the book on the bed and Ron picked it up and started flipping through it.

"What the hell is this? Leave it to Hermione to write her journal in some foreign language!" He tossed the book back on the bed and threw his hands in the air.

Harry picked up the journal and flipped through the pages the same way Ron had.

"It's not. It's written in ancient runes. Malfoy, you took ancient runes in school, didn't you? Do you think you could read it?"

Draco took the book from his hands and looked at it skeptically.

"I can try, but it could take some time. I'm not fluent like she is."

He opened the book to a random page and his eyes skimmed across the symbols. One particular rune caught his eye, there in the bottom left-hand corner of the page. Her words came back to him.

"_The location of the rune tells you which direction to read. This system was used to code important messages. It was like an ancient cipher. Only the person that knew the code would be able to read it. To anyone else it would not make any sense at all."_

He flipped the book closed and looked at the front cover. The rune she had pointed out to him that night was emblazoned into the leather.

"_It means roughly 'begin here'._"

He swallowed thickly as the implication hit him. Hermione had written her journal in a secret code, and she had given him the key to decipher it.

"How? How in Merlin's name could she leave without me knowing it?" Ron stood abruptly and grabbed a candle off the dresser. He threw it across the room, and it smashed through a window, shattering the glass into a million pieces.

"Calm down Ron. I'm sure she had her reasons." Harry was watching his friend wearily. It was no secret that Ron Weasley had a bit of a temper. Harry had learned how to deal with him long ago.

"You don't understand, Harry. I'm her _husband_. She can't just leave! She needs to come back home where she belongs right fucking now!"

Harry and Draco both stared at him in shock.

"Ron, mate, if you talk to Hermione like that, it's no wonder she left." Harry could have been joking with those words, but his tone was completely serious. He didn't like the way Ron was talking about Hermione, almost like she was his property or something. "Have you two been fighting again? Maybe she just needs to cool off. You know how she gets when she's angry or upset. She just wants to be left alone until she can collect herself again. That's how she's always been."

Ron's blue eyes narrowed and he took three steps across the room to stand right in front of Harry. His hand gripped Harry's shirt in a tight fist.

"Don't you dare try to tell me about Hermione. I know her better than anyone. I will find her, and I will bring her home where she belongs." His words were spoken in low, threatening tones and he shoved Harry away when he was finished.

Draco listened intently and watched every move, his wand at the ready just in case things got out of hand. The behavior that he was witnessing only supported his earlier suspicions.

"You're dealing with the brightest witch of our age, Weasel. Trust me when I say if she doesn't want you to find her, you won't." Draco didn't wait for a response. He walked out of the bedroom and stormed down the hallway to the fireplace.

Several hours later Draco and Harry were finishing up for the day and preparing to go home for the evening when Draco placed a hand on Harry's arm to get his attention.

"Can I ask you a question?" he asked in a tone so low no one else in the office could hear him. "Maybe over a drink?"

Harry looked at him, puzzled, for a long moment before nodding his ascent and following the blonde out of the Ministry. They went to a muggle pub that was off the beaten path and slid into a corner booth.

"This is a little too cozy for my tastes, Malfoy. In case you've forgotten I'm a happily married man."

Draco rolled his eyes at the implication and took a long swig of the muggle beer sitting in front of him.

"Speaking of happy marriages, Potter, how 'happy' would you say the Weasley's are in their marriage?"

Harry studied him from across the table, wondering if his interest was purely from the assault case, or if there was something else motivating him.

"Apparently not very happy, I would say." He sighed and ran his hand through his thick brown hair, causing it to stick up in random places. "Honestly I hardly ever see Hermione anymore. I probably haven't spent more than six hours with her in the last two years or so."

That was surprising news to Draco. He had just assumed that the Golden Trio had remained inseparable after the war.

"She works so much, you know? She's at the library fifty or sixty hours a week, and she's working on some kind of research project, but I have no idea what it is. She would only tell me it was confidential. It took up all of her spare time, though. Hell, maybe she just needed a break, yeah?"

"That can't be right. She supposedly quit her job and hasn't left her house in three months. She's already had a break." Draco took another drink before continuing. "Hell, she was probably going stir crazy stuck in the house and left just to have something to do. I mean, did you see how clean everything was? Has she spent the last three months doing nothing but cleaning?"

They sat in silence for several long minutes, listening to the music play, drinking beer, and contemplating the disappearance of Hermione Weasley.

"Maybe she was having an affair, ran off with another man?"

"You think Hermione could have an affair?" Harry's laughter rang out sharply against the din of the pub. "No way in hell."

"It wouldn't be the first time. Witches have affairs all the time."

"Not Hermione. She has the strongest moral or ethical code I've ever seen. She wouldn't even sleep with Ron until their wedding night, if you can believe that. She would never sleep with someone else while she was married to Ron."

Draco contemplated his words carefully. The alcohol in his brain was slowing down some of the normal functions, but for some reason he still thought that was important information, so he filed it away for future use.

"You think it was Ron, don't you." Harry had only a small amount of beer left in his bottle and he stared intently at it as he swirled it around and around, waiting for the man across the table to answer his question. Once again, it was a question he already knew the answer to.

Draco studied him for a moment before deciding that he might as well be honest about it. He inhaled deeply and ran his fingers through his hair before speaking.

"If you received word that Luna had been brutally attacked, raped, and her unborn child murdered, would you simply go home because you hate hospitals?"

Green eyes snapped up to meet the gray eyes that were now staring at him intently.

"No, I wouldn't."

"Would you insist that she not have any kind of added protection, refuse the twenty four hour guard that the Ministry was offering?"

Harry swallowed thickly as he shook his head 'no'.

"Would you insist that the investigation be stopped when no suspects had even been named yet?"

"No." The word was barely a whisper.

"Hell no, you wouldn't. You would be inconsolable. You would be pissed off, and you wouldn't rest until the asshole responsible was either caught or dead." Draco's bottle slammed to the table with a loud thump, making Harry flinch almost imperceptibly in surprise.

"Put that with the fact that by your own admission the last time anyone saw Hermione before the attack he was yelling at her, making a scene, and then they went out back for some air. Thirty minutes later she's hanging on to life by a thread and Weasley's on the dance floor with another witch. So yeah, Potter, I think he's guilty as hell."

Draco downed the rest of his beer and through a few muggle bills on the table.

"I'll tell you this, though. I hope she knows what she's doing. The consequences could cost nothing less than her life." He had no doubt, none whatsoever, that if Ron were to find her now, not even the fine Healers at St. Mungo's would be able to help her. 


	4. Chapter 4

**{ ****Chapter Three ****}**

When Draco said it could take awhile to translate Hermione's journal, he wasn't kidding. Two months later he had barely made any headway at all. He had managed to almost translate the first two pages, but when he tried to make sense of his translation he couldn't. He expected a woman's journal to be filled with descriptions of events, feelings, hopes and dreams. What he had translated so far were mere sentence fragments. Section C, subsection two, things like that. The pages didn't even seem to be in order.

Several times he had gotten so frustrated with it that he had put it down and refused to look at it again for days at a time. As it was, it had been almost a week since he opened the bloody book, but his mind was never far from either the journal or the woman that had written it. Somehow he knew that he was meant to have the journal, and that he was meant to translate it. She had given him the code, after all, but still he felt like he was missing something. There was some vital piece of information that she had forgotten to give him.

After spending yet another evening trying to make sense of the runes and getting nowhere, he finally gave up, locked the book in his desk drawer and went to bed early. He lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling for hours before his eyes drifted shut. Behind closed eyes he saw her, lying in a hospital bed, covered in yellowish bruises that were in the final stages of healing, just as he had seen her that night. She sat up on the edge of the bed and placed a book on the table.

"_There's more to it than that_," she said. "_The symbol also tells you what order to read the pages._"

His eyes popped open and stared into the blackness of his room. Had she actually told him that? If so, he had completely forgotten about that. What else had she said that night that he needed to know in order to translate her journal? Wide awake now, he slipped out of his bed and made his way across the hall to his study.

His pensieve had been a gift, willed to him by his grandfather. He had used it only once, several years ago. Ironically enough, that had been to review a memory of Hermione Granger as well.

He set the bowl carefully on his desk and placed the tip of his wand against his temple. Concentrating on the memory of that night, he pulled the silvery thread from his memory and placed it in the bowl. He took a deep breath, then he allowed himself to be pulled into the memory.

At the time, he had assumed she was only talking about her work, trying to pass time and keep her mind off of the attack. He watched himself, sitting across the table from her, barely even paying attention to what she was saying, and he wanted to smack himself in the back of the head.

She kept looking at him, gauging how much attention he was really giving her. Several times she rolled her eyes and sighed deeply, but then she kept going.

"_The symbol will be on the cover of the book in one of the four corners. That tells you which group of pages to read first. See here? The rune is on the upper right hand corner of the cover, so all of the pages with the rune in the upper right hand corner are read first. From there, you go clockwise. Next you would read all of the pages with the rune in the lower right hand corner, then the lower left hand corner, and lastly the upper left hand corner. Do you understand?_"

The memory Malfoy nodded his head and muttered "um, yeah." The Malfoy that was watching the memory, though, was listening intently.

"_Usually when a text is written in this type of code, the message itself isn't even in that particular book. It's a map of sorts, telling you where to go to find the information that's needed. See? If you don't know how to order the pages, the directions you find will be wrong, sending you on a wild goose chase_."

Memory Malfoy made another noncommittal noise.

Draco rolled his eyes at his own memory self as he looked up from the book. His breath caught in his throat, though, as he realized that Hermione was looking right at him. This was a memory. There is no way she could know that he was standing there, listening to every word. And yet, her eyes looked right at him. No, more like they were looking right through him.

"_It's a long process, really. First you have to order the pages. Then you translate the runes. Next you follow the instructions. Then you solve the puzzle. It can sometimes take months, years even, but that's okay. Two years should be more than enough time, I think. Are you getting all of this, Malfoy?_"

"Yeah, I got it," he felt compelled to respond, even though he knew there was no logical way for her to hear him.

"_Well, I certainly hope so_," she murmured. "_Otherwise I am well and truly fucked_."

Memory Malfoy's head snapped up and he focused on her for the first time in many minutes.

"_What was that_?"

"_Of course you would hear that part, Malfoy_." She rolled her eyes before closing the book in front of her with a snap and lying back on the bed.

"_Sorry, Granger. I must have zoned out there for a minute. I'm listening. What were you saying about the code?_"

"_Never mind, Malfoy. Someday you'll realize how valuable this information is, and you'll wish you had paid more attention_." She smirked at him as she said it. He remembered thinking she was joking with him. In reality she had known exactly how true her words were.

Two days later he again sat in his study with the journal, only this time he was armed with Hermione's instructions. The first thing he did was make a copy of the journal. The original was placed back in his desk, locked away in the second drawer on the right.

He cut the pages from the copied journal and started four different stacks on the desk in front of him. The rune on the cover of the journal had appeared in the lower right hand corner, so all pages with the symbol in the lower right hand corner went in the first stack. The second stack was pages with the symbol in the lower left hand corner, and so on. Once the pages were sorted, and arranged correctly, he started translating the first page.

It was a long and tedious process. Most of the runes were not symbols he was familiar with, so he had to look them up one by one. They also had different meaning depending on the context, so he had to take into account all different possible meanings for each symbol.

He sat there, late into the night, thinking that it would take him forever to figure it all out. Two years, she had said. Two years should be more than enough time. Looking at the stack of papers in front of him, two years would not surprise him in the least.

* * *

The next day when Draco arrived at the office Cho and Dean were already at their desks and Harry walked in right behind him. It was the first of September, and a lovely fall day outside, complete with a cold drizzle and strong wind. The mood in the office matched the weather. Dull. Gray. Dreary.

Draco had just removed his cloak when a blonde witch carrying a thin white box knocked on the door. Every eye in the room turned to her and she smiled a dazzling white smile.

"I have a delivery for Mr. Ronald Weasley," she announced to the room in general.

"He's not in yet." Harry stepped forward. "You can leave it on his desk if you'd like."

He motioned to Ron's desk in the corner. The witch smiled at him again and set the box on his desk. With a wave of her wand the box disappeared and in its place sat a small vase holding three black roses. A card was lying next to the vase with Ron's name printed in a loopy script.

The delivery witch smiled again and left without another word. The occupants of the office stared at the flower arrangement for a long moment before anyone spoke.

Harry and Draco had both moved closer to the desk without really realizing what they were doing until they both stood next to the flowers.

"Is today the first?" Harry asked the man standing beside him. "I didn't even realize. Today is their wedding anniversary. Three years."

"Three black roses, sends one hell of a statement." Draco reached for the card and flipped it over. On the back was a series of letters.

**DCCXXX**

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Harry plucked the card out of his hands and stared at it, flipping it back and forth several times to see if he had missed anything.

Dean and Cho had both come over to see the flowers and the card. Draco was starting to feel crowded, so he turned and walked back to his desk.

"I'm starting to think that Granger is either bloody brilliant, or bloody insane. I'm not sure which one it is yet. Does she ever just say what she means, or is everything a code to her?"

Cho had taken the card from Harry and was inspecting it carefully when she laughed, a short chuckle, and handed the card back to Harry.

"It isn't a code. It's a number," she stated triumphantly. The three men in the room looked at her like she was crazy, because clearly there was no number written on the card. "Come on, guys, I'm not the only one here that took arithmancy, am I? It's written in roman numerals."

Draco went back over and looked at the card again.

"You're right. It is a number. It looks like…seven hundred and thirty, right?"

"Right," she smiled and laid the card back on the desk next to the vase. "So now we just need to figure out what the hell seven hundred thirty means."

They stood gathered around Ron's desk for a few more minutes before they all scattered and got back to work. Every one of them was thinking about the flowers, though, and the mysterious card. Ron himself was working a night shift rotation, so he wouldn't receive the flowers or the card for several hours yet.

It was lunchtime when Harry had a sudden thought.

"Of course! It's so obvious, isn't it?"

Draco was the only one in the room at the time and he nearly dropped his quill at the unexpected sound of Potter's voice booming through the room.

"What are you on about now?" He cleaned up the spilled ink on his desk and glared at Harry. The dark haired man stood and retrieved the card that was still lying on his friend's desk.

"When we were at Hogwarts, in second year Hermione hung a board over our dormitory doorways. She charmed it to count down how many days were left until NEWT's. The numbers were random, though. Sometimes they were written with regular numbers, and other times they were written in roman numerals."

Draco stared at him for a long moment before his face broke into a grin and he laughed. His first true laugh in many, many months.

"She started a countdown to NEWT's in second year? Seriously?" He laughed harder, imagining a twelve year old Hermione Granger counting down to an exam that was still five years away.

"That's beside the point." Harry rolled his eyes, caught between defending his friend and laughing right along with him. He slapped the card down on the desk in front of the blonde. "This isn't just a number, Malfoy. It's a countdown."

"A countdown to what?" Draco picked the card up once again and looked at the numbers. "Seven hundred thirty days? That's, what, two years?"

Harry started pacing back and forth between their desks, running his hand through his hair occasionally in frustration.

"Okay, so what do we know? We know that Hermione is alive. If the flowers are any indication, she hates Ron. And for some reason she's counting down the days between now and her fifth wedding anniversary, which is two years away. Does any of this ring any bells, Malfoy?"

"No. None." He lied. Inside his mind, her voice was echoing over and over again.

"_Two years should be more than enough time, I think."_

A cold chill ran down his spine and he dropped the card on the table. The message was clear to him now. He had two years left to figure out where she went and why. 


	5. Chapter 5

**{ Ch****apter 4 ****}**

_One year later_

Draco was home, sitting at his desk in his study. In front of him were two stacks of parchment. The first stack was the copy of Hermione's journal. The papers were worn from the countless days and hours he had spent studying them. The second stack was the translations that he had spent every spare minute of the last year working on.

Finally the translations were complete.

It had been a long and tedious process. He wasn't fluent in runes the way Hermione was. He had to look up each symbol, most of which had more than one meaning, then try to piece together which meaning was needed. Finally, though, it was finished.

True to her word, the translation contained directions. More specifically, book titles, chapters, subsections, right down to paragraph numbers. The next step was to follow the directions, find the books she referred to, and figure out what it all meant.

She had been missing for well over a year. The flowers that she sent to Weasley on their third anniversary had been the only communication from her since her disappearance. They had looked for her everywhere with no luck. Her picture still hung in many wizarding communities, and even some of the larger muggle cities. Not one sighting had been reported.

Tensions throughout the MLE were high whenever the subject of Hermione Weasley was brought up. Ron had not given up hope of finding her. The rest of the squad was less sure. Half of the team thought she was in hiding for some reason and simply did not want to be found. The other half thought she was being held captive by whomever attacked her three months prior to her disappearance.

Draco and Harry had both been leaning towards the theory that she was in hiding, but as the days, weeks, and months wore on with no further communication from her, they weren't so sure. A sign from her would have been nice. Any sign that she was still alive, that she was okay.

Today had been their fourth anniversary. Harry and Draco had both waited impatiently at the office long after working hours, hoping for another delivery. Another message. Another sign.

There was nothing.

"Where the hell are you, Granger?" Draco mumbled to himself as he stared at the translated papers in front of him. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration, wondering, not for the first time, if he should have asked Potter for help. With two of them working on it, they would certainly figure it out faster.

Two things were stopping him. First, he wasn't sure he could trust Potter not to say anything to Weasley. One thing he knew without a doubt was that Granger did not want Weasley to know the contents of her journal, so he couldn't take the risk of handing it over via the Boy Wonder.

The other reason was, well, call it pride. Hermione was challenging him. She had challenged him since they were eleven years old, always pushing him to be better, to go further, to push harder. She was counting on him to figure it out, and he wasn't going to let her down. He owed it to her.

The next day Draco went to the Wizarding Library of London to find the first entry on the list. _Ancient and Obscure Marriage Rites_, _Fifth Edition, Volume three, Chapter seven, Subsection two_.

It took him most of the morning, but he finally located it in a section on the third floor deep into the stacks. He pulled the heavy book off the shelf and made his way to a table in the corner. Flipping to the section she had indicated, he took a deep breath and started reading.

_The Perfect Wife_

_The perfect wife must follow the following guidelines:_

_She keeps a clean house._

_She maintains her figure._

_She is always faithful._

_She does not speak ill of her husband._

_She does not speak back to her husband._

_She does not speak to others of her marriage._

_She does not intentionally harm herself._

_She does not harm her husband._

_She respects her husband's wishes._

_She follows her husband into death._

_This rite is often referred to as a curse, as it basically removes all of the wife's free will in the marriage. The rite must be performed during the consummation of the wedding vows, on the day of the wedding, under a full moon. The wife must be a virgin at the time of the consummation._

_This rite was employed often among arranged pure-blood marriages in the eighteenth century, but is unheard of today._

It went on to describe how the rite was performed, but Draco had read enough. He felt sick to his stomach.

Why would this be the first passage that she had sent him to? He checked the book again, making sure it was the same as her list. He double checked the section, the subsection, all of it, hoping he had mistakenly read the wrong passage.

Surely the Weasel hadn't...

He couldn't have.

It wasn't possible.

Why else would Hermione have sent him to this passage, though?

He thought back to his interactions with her, limited as they were. At the ball that night, she had had a dull, lifeless look in her eyes. Harry had stated that Ron was yelling at her during the ball, but she wasn't yelling at him or defending herself. In the hospital room several days later she had told him that she couldn't say who had attacked her. She _couldn't_ say. Not because she didn't know, but because she had been cursed not to.

Four years.

Draco closed his eyes as his hands clenched into tight fists at his sides.

She had been married to this man for four years.

On the night of their wedding, probably the happiest day of her life, he had not only taken away her innocence, he had also taken away her free will.

He just couldn't wrap his mind around it.

Hermione was the strongest, bravest, smartest witch that he knew. She was passionate and outspoken. She was strong-willed and driven. Taking away her free will would break her.

Why would anyone want to do that?

Especially when that person had been her best friend for years and was supposedly in love with her?

His mind reeled as it processed the information and all of the implications. He truly did feel like he might be sick. Taking in a few deep breaths, he copied the passage from the book and disapperated from the library. He went home, dropping all of his papers on his desk before going straight to the gym. He really felt the need to beat the shit out of something.

For the next two hours he punched, he kicked and he ran out his frustrations. By the time he stopped, his lean body was covered in sweat, his blonde hair dripping with moisture. It still didn't seem like enough, though.

No, something told him that until he had Ron Weasley's scrawny neck crushed between his bare hands, it would never be enough to quell the rage that was burning throughout his body.

After a long, hot shower he dressed in blue jeans and a green Slytherin t-shirt and made his way back to his study. As he opened the door, though, he was surprised to find someone else already there, sitting at his desk, looking through his notes.

"Zabini. Find anything interesting over there?" His voice was cold as ice, clearly impressing his displeasure at finding the dark-skinned wizard snooping through his notes.

Blaise seemed to be completely disinterested in him, his eyes still scanning the parchment in his hand. Several seconds later, he dropped the parchment on the desk and met Draco's eyes. A smile formed across his face and he leaned back in the chair, lifting his feet to rest on top of the desk.

"Well, well, well. You are still alive. We've all been wondering."

"Of course I'm still alive. If I were dead, you all would have been partying in my honor by now." He poured himself a glass of firewhiskey.

"Come on, Draco. We haven't seen you in months. You've cancelled on Daphne like five times now, you've stood her up at least twice. I don't know why she's still bothering to hope that you two will ever be together. What the hell are you working on that has you ignoring all of your friends?"

Draco ran his hands through his hair. With the exception of Harry knowing that he was translating the journal, no one else had any idea what he was working on. He thought it better that way, safer for Hermione. He was starting to think that he was going to need to bring someone else in on it. There was a sense of urgency in his heart that wasn't there the day before.

Blaise was not a member of the MLE. Instead, he owned and operated a small bar and tavern on the outskirts of Diagon Alley.

"Alright. I'll tell you, but only under an oath. You cannot speak to anyone else about this. Lives could be in danger."

Blaise held his eyes for a long moment, contemplating his options. Find out what is going on with his friend, but be sworn to secrecy, or walk away without knowing any more than he did now. Honestly, his friend's behavior intrigued him. He had never seen Draco so dedicated to a project before, and he itched to know why.

"Not a word, Draco." They pulled their wands and muttered the incantation that would make their conversation confidential.

"Alright, lay it on me."

Draco considered him for a moment, trying to think how best to describe the events of the last year and a half. Finally he inhaled deeply and blew it out slowly.

"You read the passage about '_The Perfect Wife'_, right?" He spit out the title of the marriage rite as though it were poison on his tongue.

"Yeah. I was reading it when you came in. Don't tell me, you're planning on seducing some poor, sweet virgin into a lifetime of slavery?" The bitterness in his tone told Draco that he was being sarcastic, and in reality Blaise was as repulsed by this curse as Draco was.

"No. Not me." He drained his glass of firewhiskey and poured another. He swirled the amber liquid around the bottom of the glass and cleared his throat. "When Granger disappeared, she left a journal behind. It was written in ancient runes, in a type of secret code."

He crossed the room to stand behind his desk, shoving Blaise out of his way. With a wave of his wand, his desk drawer unlocked and opened. He retrieved the original journal from inside and handed it to Blaise.

"So you've spent the last year decoding her journal?" Blaise flipped through the pages of the journal, then looked at him like he was crazy.

Hell, maybe he was crazy after all.

"She was attacked at the ball about three months before she disappeared. Do you remember that?" He didn't even wait for a response before he continued. "A few nights later I was on guard duty and she woke up. She told me she couldn't help identify her attacker. Right? Okay, so I just let it drop. After a little while she starts telling me about her work, decoding ancient runes at the library. I went back and reviewed the memory after I had her journal. She was giving me instructions, Blaise. She was telling me how to decode that book."

Blaise had always been better at ancient runes than Draco was, but as he flipped through the book in his hands, there were very few symbols that he actually recognized. He could only imagine how long it had taken to decode.

"So what does it say?"

Draco took the book from him, putting it back in his desk drawer immediately, then handed him his stack of translations. He read through the list in front of him, his brows furrowing deeper with every line.

"This isn't a journal, Draco. It's a bibliography. Some kind of research she was working on, maybe?"

"The first entry on the list took me right to this page." He handed the copy of _The Perfect Wife_ to Blaise, and waited.

"Why would she be researching something as vile as this?"

He raised an eyebrow at his friend. Leaning back against his desk with his arms crossed over his chest, he drawled. "Yes. Why indeed. And more to the point, why did she want me, specifically, to know what she was researching?"

"And where the hell has she been for the last year and half? Doing more research?"

"I seriously doubt that." He ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath before voicing his suspicion for the first time. "He put her under that curse, Blaise. There's no doubt in my mind."

Both men sat on the couch, staring at the flickering flames dance around the hearth. Draco put his head in his hands and heaved a deep sigh. Blaise watched his friend curiously. He had never seen Draco so affected by a case before. He could tell that it was more than a case, more than a missing witch. It was this particular witch. Hermione Granger had a habit of capturing Draco's attention. She always had, and Blaise suspected that she always would.

If Draco was right, if the Weasel had cursed her in such a heinous manner, then he had the feeling that once this came to light there would be a long line of people waiting to rip the redhead to shreds.

"If that's true, then the Weasel fucked with the wrong witch. If anyone could figure it out, it's her, right?" He grabbed the translated list off the desk where Draco had discarded it. He gave a resigned sigh, well aware that whether he liked it or not, he had just become Draco's research assistant and confidant on the case of one missing Hermione Weasley. That's what he gets for seeking out his friend, he supposed. His goal had been to get Draco out of the house and away from work for awhile. Instead, he had allowed himself to get sucked in right next to him.

"So what's the second book on the list?"


	6. Chapter 6

**{ ****Chapter Five ****}**

_Five days later_

"I found it!" Blaise shouted triumphantly through the stacks. It had taken the two of them several days to find the second book on her list. _Unexplained Deaths through the Ages _was nothing more than a notebook where a wizard named MacAffrey had handwritten accounts of strange deaths. Chapter six was titled _The Perfect Wife_.

"This is definitely it." Draco took the book from his hands and held it closer to the lamp.

"_In the late 1800's there lived a farmer named Channing. His family had a long standing rivalry with the family to the North called the Aubrey's. In hopes of joining the families and ending the feud, the Aubrey's youngest daughter was married to Channing. Her brother, who was out of town on business at the time, was outraged. _

"_Three months into the marriage he confronted Channing. The confrontation turned deadly and Channing was fatally wounded. Aubrey, thrilled at the outcome, returned to Channing's home to retrieve his sister. He searched the house and found her in the kitchen. She was lying on the floor, dead. It appeared as though she was preparing supper and simply collapsed on the spot. Healers could find no reason for her death._

"_Upon examination of her personal effects, a journal was found written in her hand. It was determined from her writings that Channing had performed The Perfect Wife marriage rite on his young bride. __The cause of death was then clear. __After all, The Perfect Wife follows her husband in death."_

Silence hung thick in the air as the words sunk in. Neither man spoke for many minutes until finally Blaise broke the silence.

"You know what this means, right?"

Draco snapped the book shut and threw it down on the table.

"Yeah, it means we have to lift the curse before we can beat the Weasel to death with his own dismembered arms."

"Damn. You read my mind. What do you say we get out of here, get some fresh air and a stiff drink?" He didn't give Draco a chance to answer. He just grabbed his arm and disapperated on the spot. When the world stopped spinning, they were standing in Blaise's office at the bar.

"You asshole! You could have splinched me with a surprise apparition like that. Are you completely insane?" Draco had his wand out and pointed at the taller man's throat almost as soon as they landed.

"Relax man. Come on, I'll get the drinks." They entered the bar and Draco sat down at a small table while Blaise poured them each a glass of the strongest fire whiskey they sold.

"You think we can break the curse?" Blaise handed him a glass and sat in the chair next to him. The table they had chosen sat in the corner and gave them a clear view of the rest of the tables in the room, as well as the door.

"I think if there's a way to break it, she would have found it." He took a long drink and set the glass heavily on the table. "There are ten more books on her list. The answer will be there somewhere."

Blaise stared into his glass, watching the amber liquid swirl around the bottom, before running his fingers through his jet black hair and inhaling deeply.

"What if it's not there, Draco? What if she didn't find the solution before she disappeared?"

Draco's gray eyes were as hard and cold as steel as he glared at his friend. His hand tightened around his glass, which he picked up just to slam it back down on the table again.

"Then we keep looking. We pick up wherever she left off and we continue her research."

They stared at each other for a long moment before Blaise nodded in agreement. Despite his initial reluctance to help Draco with this little project, he was slowly becoming invested in the outcome. Draco's determination was rubbing off on him. Despite the fact that he wasn't sure he had ever so much as spoke to Hermione in the past, he wanted to find out what happened to her. He wanted to help her.

The bar was filling up around them as the evening hours drew near. It was Saturday night, and the bar was a hot spot for the young twenties crowd. Draco and Blaise watched the people around them, so they both stiffened as two wizards took notice of them and walked to their table.

"Hey Malfoy. I don't think I've ever seen you in here before. The place is packed tonight. Zabini, right? How's it going?" The two sat down at the table and motioned for a waitress.

"Potter. Weasel. Please, sit down. Make yourselves comfortable." Draco's voice was laced with sarcasm as he motioned to the two across from him.

Weasley glared at him. Harry just rolled his eyes. The two of them had become friends over the last few years of working together, and he was quite familiar with Draco's dry sense of humor. Never mind that he was not joking at all this particular time.

"Thanks Malfoy. Don't mind if we do." Harry smirked as Draco rolled his eyes.

The atmosphere around the table was tense at best. Draco had to make a conscious effort to be civil to the Weasel. Today was not the day for a confrontation. So he chose to ignore the redhead altogether and focused on Potter instead.

"Where's Luna tonight, Potter? Not trouble in paradise I hope."

"Nah. She's out of town with her father. They're searching for nargles in Australia." He laughed and rolled his eyes. His wife's eccentricities were often cause for laughter. Despite that, Luna was actually one of the most perceptive people he had ever met.

"That's right. I forgot you married Lovegood." Blaise laughed as he leaned closer to Harry. "So just between us guys, what's she like, you know?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Draco, sensing the discomfort coming from Harry's general direction, jumped in to help his friend.

"You know, that's an excellent question Blaise. I always wondered myself. I bet she's a tiger in the sack, isn't that right Potter?"

"That is absolutely none of your business." Harry drank down half of his beer before setting the bottle on the table. "However, I will say this. Luna has very few inhibitions. I'll leave it at that."

Draco and Blaise laughed. Ron groaned.

"What about you, Malfoy? When are you going to settle down?"

Draco shook his head no while Blaise laughed.

"His mother keeps trying to set him up with Daphne Greengrass, but he's blown her off like ten times now."

"Daphne is not my type, okay? I keep telling Mother that, and she keeps setting up these dates. She knows I'm not going to keep them."

"Daphne Greengrass isn't your type?" Ron asked incredulously. "She's a pureblooded heiress; she sounds exactly like your type."

Draco's eyes narrowed in on him and he had to take several deep breaths before he trusted himself to speak.

"She's an airhead and a bimbo. I want a woman I can actually have a conversation with." His words sounded casual with only a trace of the pure hatred that he was feeling laced in his tone.

"Speaking of, whatever happened with Anna?"

Draco turned his glare from the Weasel to Blaise. Why the hell would he bring up Anna at a time like this?

"I'm only asking because she's at the bar and she's glaring at you."

All four men at the table turned to see the blonde witch that was leaning against the bar. She was wearing a black skin-tight dress and four inch stiletto heels. Her blue eyes were narrowed and she was glaring at Draco. When his eyes met hers, she set her bottle down on the bar and sauntered over to their table.

"Fuck." Draco managed to murmur under his breath before she got there.

"Well, well, well. Look who managed to leave the library. You should really get out more. You're looking a bit pale these days."

"Anna. Always a pleasure. You look lovely as always." He laid on the charm, smirking at her in the way that always worked with the ladies.

"Save it, Draco." She rolled her eyes at him. "That charm of yours won't work tonight. I just wanted to let you know that I'm seeing someone else."

There was a chorus of "ooh's" from around the table, but Draco merely shrugged.

"I figured as much. Did you think I expected you to wait around for me?"

Her eyes narrowed further and with a muttered "fucking asshole" she turned and walked away. Draco released a breath and took another drink from his glass. Anna had been a good distraction and a means to release pent up energy, but that's as far as it was ever going to go. He didn't have the time or the energy to devote to a relationship right now. He was too busy obsessing over a missing woman that in all likelihood he would never see again.

"So Weasel, what about you?" Blaise broke the silence as he poured himself another round.

"What about me?" Ron's eyes were narrowed, not trusting the former Slytherin's that sat across from him at the moment.

"Is Granger a lion in the sack? Man, I used to fantasize about her in the library. You know, with her school uniform on and her hair up in pigtails." Blaise waggled his eyebrows dramatically.

"Oh, nice visual man." Draco groaned. It was a nice visual. He was picturing it right at that moment. He shook his head violently to dislodge the image. This was certainly not the time.

"You know she would kick your ass just for thinking about that, right?" Harry laughed and rolled his eyes. "I can hear her now. 'What _do_ you think you're doing, Ronald? This is a _library_, not a bedroom. Keep your hands to yourself and _read_ something. Honestly.'"

They all cracked up laughing at Harry's spot on imitation. Even Ron was getting a kick out of it. Draco, realizing he may have had a little too much to drink at this point, took another long drink of the fire whiskey in his glass.

"It's true. She's a nightmare. Always so prim and proper. Thank Merlin for Lavender, that's all I can say about it." Ron took another drink from his bottle, completely oblivious to the mood shift around the table. Harry and Blaise were both glaring at him. Draco squeezed his glass tightly in his hand. So tightly that it shattered into sharp slivers that scattered across the table.

"Oye, Malfoy! What the hell is your problem?"

Draco waved his wand a few times to clean up the mess he had made, and then returned his glare to Weasley.

"I'm just wondering if you started fucking around on your wife before or after she left you."

Ron's face tinged red as he realized that he had just confessed his infidelities to the rest of the table, most of whom were not friendly towards him. He should have stopped drinking then, instead he took another long swig.

"Don't you worry about it, ferret. I hardly think it's any of your business."

Draco sat back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest, and he glared at Ron. Harry and Blaise exchanged looks that clearly said "uh-oh" and they both prepared to draw wands if need be.

"Since we're all getting nice and personal here, Malfoy, Zabini, let me ask you a question." Ron's words were starting to slur together from all the alcohol he had drank. Harry eyed him skeptically, not sure at all what he was about to say, but pretty sure it wouldn't be good. "Why in Merlin's name are you fantasizing about a mudblood, huh? She's beneath you lot."

The noise of the bar did not quiet down any, but the table was coated in a thick, stunned silence. Draco searched the words for any sign of sarcasm. He found none. Anger surged through his body, a white hot rage that was barely controlled. He looked at the man sitting across from him and realized he had no idea who Ron Weasley really was. Harry and Blaise shared his look of complete shock and disbelief.

"Ron, what the hell is wrong with you?" Harry pushed his chair back, distancing himself from his friend.

"What? It was just a question." Ron seemed genuinely confused. He didn't even realize that what he had just said was highly offensive.

"You need to refrain from using that kind of language in my bar, Weasley, or you won't be welcome to come back." Blaise was keeping an eye on Draco, sure that he would snap at any moment.

"What? Mudblood? Malfoy uses that language all the time and he's still here."

Draco's fist shot out and connected hard with Weasley's nose. The redhead crumpled to the floor in a bloody heap. Draco jumped up and pushed the table out of the way, intent to hit the Weasel again. Two sets of arms tried to hold him back, but he broke free.

His knee landed on Ron's stomach and his hand wrapped around Ron's throat. He forced the bloody man on the floor to look at him.

"Listen up, Weasel. I haven't used that vile word in five years. Not since the night that I had to watch it being carved into the flesh of one of the bravest women I know." His hand tightened around Ron's throat. "I changed sides in the war that night, and I never looked back. You don't know me. Don't assume that you do."

Raw power was crackling in the air around him. The people in the bar had made a wide circle around the two wizards. They all watched, too captivated to move.

Harry and Blaise were the only two in the bar that were close enough to hear what Draco had said to Ron. Harry swallowed thickly as he remembered in vivid detail the sound of her screams echoing down the stairwell and into the dungeon.

Blaise took a step forward and clapped his hand on Draco's shoulder. He leaned over and spoke in a low tone, one that only Draco could hear.

"You can't kill him, Draco. Not yet. Remember? We have to lift the curse first."

Draco's hand immediately relaxed around Ron's throat and he staggered to his feet. Ron lay on the floor catching his breath for several moments before sitting up.

Draco considered saying something else, but didn't trust himself to say something without having to back it up with his fists. His arms were still shaking in rage as it was. It was probably best to just remove himself from the situation as fast as possible. With one final glare to each Blaise and Harry, he walked away.

The crowd parted for him as he made his way towards the door. As he stepped outside, he wasn't surprised to see a tall blonde witch waiting for him.

"Are you okay, Draco?"

"I'm fine, Anna. Go home to your boyfriend, okay?" He inhaled the chilly night air deeply, clearing his head just a fraction.

"We both know there isn't anyone else. That was me attempting to make you jealous." She batted her eyes at him and trailed her fingertips up his arms to his shoulders and neck. "You need some stress relief. Why don't you come back to my place and let me make you feel all better?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled his lips to hers, kissing him deeply.

He allowed the kiss for a moment, responding to her in kind, but it didn't take long for him to realize that he wasn't getting any enjoyment from it. It was simply a motion. There was no spark. With Anna there had always been spark, but it was gone.

He pulled away from her with a sigh and took a step back, preparing to apperate.

"Go home, Anna."

He could see the hurt in her eyes, but it was soon replaced with understanding and she actually smiled a small smile at him.

"She's a lucky woman, Draco, the one who's captured your heart." She winked at him, and then she was gone, leaving him to wonder what the hell she was on about.


	7. Chapter 7

**{ ****Chapter Six ****}**

_Six months later_

"Five years it's been since the Final Battle. In that time, we've seen Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry rebuilt to it's former glory. We've seen most of the fine establishments of Diagon Alley restored and opened for business. And we've seen the young soldiers of that horrible war grow into fine, outstanding adults, many of whom protect us still today as members of the MLE."

A round of applause echoed through the Great Hall at the Minister's speech. Draco sat back in his chair with something that sounded a lot like a snort. As Kingsley continued to drone on and on about all of their accomplishments, Draco let his eyes roam. They really had done a fantastic job rebuilding Hogwarts. Aside from a few marks left as residue from dark curses, you could not tell a great battle had taken place there only five years earlier.

Once the speeches were finished, dinner was served. Draco sat at a table with Harry, Luna, Blaise and Pansy. Conversation stayed light between them, mostly they talked about their days at Hogwarts.

After dinner, Draco slipped away and began wandering through the halls. He ran his fingers over the stone walls, and down the wooden banisters. He didn't have a destination as he walked and he paid no attention to where he was going, so he was surprised when his feet suddenly stopped moving. He focused in on his surroundings and groaned slightly to himself when he realized exactly where he was.

The fourth floor hallway.

There was no sign of the destruction that had been there during the battle. He ran his fingers across the stone silently as he replayed the scene in his mind. He spun around quickly, wand drawn and pointed at the empty hallway behind him.

He didn't remember every spell, every block or every parry.

What he did remember was the pure adrenaline rushing through his veins. He remembered the acceptance that he was going to die. He remembered the determination that he was taking that bitch with him.

He remembered standing, frozen in shock as Hermione jumped in front of a powerful curse that was meant for him. He remembered being shoved around the corner. They had both stumbled to the floor and he had reflexively wrapped his arms around her shoulders, protecting her from the falling stone and debris.

He opened his eyes to find that he was once again sitting on the stone floor. Only this time he was alone, and the threat they had faced then was now a distant memory.

"Is there a reason why you're sitting on the floor in the hallway?"

Draco jumped, reflexively reaching for his wand before his mind could tell him there was no threat in the woman standing in front of him.

"I'm just thinking, Mother."

"Yes, well Malfoy's do not sit on the floor. Now stand up before someone sees you." Narcissa left no room for argument from her son as she stepped back to allow him room to stand.

Draco contemplated her for a moment, wondering what she would do if he didn't comply with her 'request'. With a sigh he realized he probably didn't want to know, so he pulled himself up and leaned against the stone wall.

"I don't like this place. It feels cold and dark." She was staring down the hallway, around the corner from where Draco had been sitting. She crossed her arms over her chest, pulling her cloak tightly around her shoulders for warmth. "Do you think a dark wizard died here? It feels like it, doesn't it?"

Draco regarded her carefully before nodding his head in response.

"That's where Bellatrix died, Mother." He watched as her eyes widened and she took two steps back, stopping only as her back hit the wall.

"How do you know that, Draco? They never gave any details of her death."

He sighed deeply, not sure how much he should tell her. Surely she wouldn't want to know the whole truth, would she?

"I was here when it happened." True. Very true. But certainly not the whole truth.

Her hand flew to her mouth, many questions tried to tumble out at the same time, but the one she finally decided to ask was "Who was it, Draco? Who killed her?"

He noted the excitement in her eyes and wasn't sure what to make of it. Would she really be happy to hear who killed her sister? She was a deranged lunatic, of course, but still, she was (unfortunately) a blood relative.

"Does it really matter after all this time?"

"Of course it matters! Whoever finally managed to kill her should be commended! They should have medals and statues and a holiday in their honor! Whoever it was, Draco, did the world a great service and should be recognized for that."

Draco laughed in relief at her words. For some irrational reason he thought, for a brief moment, that she would want revenge on the witch or wizard that killed her sister. He should have known better. For as long as he could remember his mother had hated Bellatrix.

"I hate to tell you this, but that will never happen. She more or less killed herself."

"More or less? What does that even mean?" She narrowed her eyes at him, but allowed him to lead her away from the fourth floor corridor.

"It means that she cast a reducto spell that was deflected and it brought the ceiling down on her head."

She stopped walking, then, forcing him to stop as well. He gave her a questioning glance and was surprised to see her face had gone pale, her pale blue eyes wide.

"I've seen her use that spell many times, Draco. It would take a very powerful shield charm to deflect it. You didn't have that kind of power five years ago. I'm not entirely sure you have that kind of power today."

Draco gave her his patented smirk, to which she raised an eyebrow and waited.

"Thank you for that vote of confidence, Mother. Truly, I'm touched. You might recall that I never claimed to have cast a shield charm."

If possible, Narcissa's face went even paler and she reached out to the wall for support.

"Are you okay?" He grabbed her arm and led her to a bench situated along the wall. She sat down slowly and he noticed that she was trembling. "Mother? What is it?"

"Who was the curse intended for, Draco?" Her words were barely whispered and she was shaking like a leaf.

He sighed deeply. He never should have said anything to her about it.

"The curse was intended for me." He ran his fingers through his hair. "It was five years ago, Mother. As you can see, I'm perfectly fine. I'm alive and she's dead. There's no point in dwelling on the what-if's now."

Narcissa took his words to heart and slowly began to calm herself. A few deep breaths and she was back to normal, cool and collected.

"Who cast the shield charm?"

He sat frozen in mid-movement for a moment before slowly lowering his hand to his side.

"Honestly, I'd rather not say." His eyes implored her not to press the matter any further than that. She studied him for a long moment before nodding her head in ascent.

"Very well. Someday, however, I would like to properly thank this person for saving my son's life."

"Of course, Mother. Someday I hope you'll have that chance."

* * *

Later that evening, Draco found himself alone in the library at Hogwarts. It had been rebuilt beautifully. After the battle there had been nothing left. The wall had been smashed down by one of the giants. The shelves had all toppled over. Many of the books had been destroyed. Now it looked exactly the same as it had before the battle.

He remembered after the battle, when everyone was taking stock of the damage, he had wandered into what used to be the library. She was there, sitting in the seat that had become her seat over the years. She was devastated. He knew that the tears flowing down her face were not solely meant for the library. It was a mixture of relief that it was over, sorrow over the friends that had been lost, and anger any of it had to happen at all.

He had slipped out of the room unnoticed, recognizing her need to be alone in that moment. As he stood there again, five years later, he wished that she was with him. He wanted her to see how well it all turned out. He wanted her to know that it wasn't all for nothing.

He had managed to track down every book, journal and article on her list, with the exception of the last two. They had all been similar accounts of women that had been subjected to the Perfect Wife curse. In every case, the woman had died young, either as a result of her husband's death, or as a result of an unexplained accident. Every account that he read caused a surge of fresh anger coursing through his veins.

It appeared, by all accounts, that the curse acted much like the Imperius Curse. The wife is compelled to act a certain way, even if she doesn't want to. By the journal entries it appeared that the wife was always aware of the fact that she was not in control of her own body.

He tried to imagine what that would be like. He could only imagine that for Hermione, who was a strong-willed witch, it would be complete torture. She wasn't taking it lying down, though. True to her nature, she had researched this curse, looking for any and all clues as to how it works. He could only hope that in the last two entries on her list there was also a clue as to how to break the damn thing. By his count, he had roughly six months left to her deadline, and he wasn't entirely sure that was enough time.

The second to the last item on her list was a newspaper article written in 1915. It was entitled "Perfection is not so Perfect After All". He had already searched through the archives at the Wizarding Library, but to no avail. His next obvious choice was to check in the Hogwarts library. So as the party in the Great Hall continued, he once again found himself searching through the stacks.

He had resigned himself to spending the rest of the evening in the library, but he was surprised to find the article he needed in the first fifteen minutes of searching. There it was, lying on the top of the stack labeled "1900-1915".

He laid the paper out on the table and started reading.

_Nicolaus Wayland was a young man when he married his wife, Elizabeth. He was nervous about their __nuptials__ as he didn't have much experience with women. Also because this was to be an arranged marriage and he knew nothing of his betrothed. He confided in his older brother, Jonathon, before the wedding. Jonathon gave his brother the same advice that had been given to him by their father. To ensure a happy marriage, you must perform an ancient marriage rite known as 'The Perfect Wife' on the same night as your marriage bond. _

_Nicolaus thanked his brother and performed the marriage rite just as he had been instructed to do. He was pleased that his wife always kept the house clean, always had dinner ready for him. She always looked beautiful and satisfied him at any time he desired. He was quite happy with their marriage and came to care for Elizabeth a great deal. _

_However, as the years passed, he came to realize that something was missing in their relationship. Though she was always available for him, he felt no warmth from her. She simply did not seem happy. Nicolaus himself did not feel as though he had a companion, he began to feel more like he had a servant. This did not sit well with him. _

_He began trying to figure out what was wrong with his wife. Why was she so unhappy? He found his answer in the form of her journal. He read the words she had written, explaining how she wanted to tell him to go to hell, but she simply couldn't do it. She wrote that when she was sick and her body physically couldn't move without pain or discomfort, she still felt compelled to cook and clean and dress herself up to look 'presentable' for her husband. He realized he had never once known her to be sick. She wrote that she hated him for taking away her free will._

_Nicolaus was heart-broken. He had never realized the marriage rite he performed would have this kind of effect on her. He began researching the rite and trying to find a way to break the curse. After many years of searching, he found nothing. _

_Elizabeth slipped into a deep depression and he realized that he needed to do something drastic or he would lose her forever. In a move of desperation, he petitioned the Wizengamot to have their marriage bond disolved. Eventually the Wizengamot approved and the marriage bond was disolved. With the disolution, the curse on Elizabeth was broken. _

_After eight years of marriage, she was once again able to think for herself, control her own movements. She was grateful to Nicolaus for finding a way to undo the horrid marriage bond, and she fell in love with him. A year later the two remarried, without a curse binding them together, and they lived happily ever after._

_The two devoted the rest of their lives to educating young people of the horrors of "The Perfect Wife". They also petitioned the courts for a solution. Years after their deaths, their son Joshua was able to finally get legislation passed, though the usefulness of the legislation has yet to be seen._

_The moral of the story, of course, is that nothing is perfect. If something appears to be perfect, of course, dig deeper. _

Draco re-read the article twice before making a copy and placing it in his robes.

Legislation had been passed.

There was a solution.

Tomorrow he would find the last entry on her list. He had no doubt it would be the legislation that was mentioned in the article. It was the last piece of the puzzle.

Feeling more optimistic than he had in years, he returned to the party in the Great Hall and let himself kick back and relax.


	8. Chapter 8

**{ ****Chapter Seven ****}**

Draco had returned to the Great Hall and spent the rest of the evening drinking, laughing and relaxing for the first time in ages. When he returned home he had been so tired that he collapsed into bed still in his dress robes. Sleep had come quickly for him and soon he found himself dreaming.

He was at Hogwarts after the battle. Everywhere he looked he was surrounded by destruction and death. Looking past the rubble he was able to see that he was also surrounded by survivors. Heroes. Victors.

He walked the corridors, or what was left of them anyway, until he found the library. He knew she would be here. She was always here.

And there she was. Sitting on a pile of stone. She held her head in her hands and she sobbed, loud, hard, heart-wrenching sobs that echoed off the fallen stone.

He swallowed thickly before stepping through the rubble. She heard him coming, of course, but she never looked up. She just sat there crying, as though she had held the tears in for so long that now she had no choice but to let them flow.

He stood next to her now. Gently his hand came up to caress her shoulders and she leaned into his touch. He wasn't sure if she realized it was him yet, but for the moment it didn't matter. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his chest. She came easily, leaning into him and wrapping her arms around his waist.

He held her as she cried, rubbing his hands in small circles over her back, until she sniffled one final time and stepped back. He looked down into her chocolate brown eyes, expecting to see surprise there, instead he only found gratitude.

In a heartbeat he found himself leaning closer to her. His lips brushed against hers with just the lightest of touches but it sent a jolt of electricity through his system. Before he even knew what was happening, his lips were on hers again. He kissed her deeply, his arms wrapped around her back pulling her in close. She responded readily, tangling her fingers in his hair.

One of them moaned. He would never know which one it was and it hardly mattered. It was enough to shock his system into waking up. He sat straight up in bed, his head spinning from the alcohol in his system.

"Well, fuck," he muttered into the darkness of his room. He had fantasized about Hermione many times over the years, but this had felt much to real. It had to be the firewhiskey, he thought. That was the only explanation. Firewhiskey and to many walks down memory lane earlier in the evening.

He lay in bed staring at the ceiling for a long time before he realized he wouldn't be getting back to sleep any time soon. He stumbled his way into the bathroom and turned on the shower.

The dream had felt so real, he could almost still taste her. Standing under the spray, he let his imagination continue where his dream had been cut off. While he palmed his erection, he let himself imagine kissing her, touching her, making love to her. It didn't take long before he was spent and collapsed against the tile.

He would blame the alcohol for it, of course. It had been years since Draco Malfoy had resorted to jerking off in the shower. Maybe, just this once, he would blame it on Hermione. She was the one that got into his head, that took over his life, that occupied his every thought. Maybe it was all her fault, after all.

Draco woke the next morning with a hangover. Nothing a little pepper-up potion wouldn't fix, though. After taking his potion and a strong cup of coffee, he dressed in his MLE robes and went to work.

It had been quiet around the office lately. Several of the MLE agents had even been laid off or re-assigned to other departments in the ministry. Draco, Harry, Cho and Theo Nott were the only four full-time MLE agents left. There were part-timers that only worked special security detail or were on-call in case something big were to happen, like Dean Thomas and Weasley. Security had been bumped up a notch for the five year anniversary of the Final Battle, but there had been no attacks to speak of.

Today was another slow day at the office and he found himself counting down the hours till he could leave work and go to the Wizarding Library. He had one book left to find, and he was anxious to see what it had to say. When five o'clock finally rolled around he bolted as quickly as possible.

_1915 – A Year in Review _was the last book on Hermione's list. Now that he knew he was looking for a piece of legislation, he found it easily in the section on wizarding law. It felt as if he had been working tirelessly for years for this very moment. With a deep breath, Draco opened the book to the section indicated on her list.

There it was.

He ran his fingers lightly over the text before reading.

_By wizarding law a wizard may file to have his marriage bond disolved after one year of marriage, while a witch must wait until five years of marriage have passed before she is eligible to petition the court for the same. _

_However, a woman that has been cursed with 'The Perfect Wife' marriage rite is unable to speak for herself in such matters by nature of the rite. Therefore, it is hereby determined that in such a case a third party sponsor may come forth to speak on behalf of the witch. _

_The sponsor will file with the court a request to disolve the marriage bond. The sponsor and the husband will be required to testify under veritaserum regarding the state of the marriage. Upon disolving of the marital bond between the witch and wizard, the sponsor takes responsibility for the witch. The sponsor must marry the witch for no less than one year, as stated by wizarding law. _

_This law has been a long time in coming, but it is still unclear how much help it will really be to a woman inflicted with this curse. She is unable to ask for assistance from a sponsor, unable to tell anyone that she is under this curse. The sponsor must figure out for himself that she has been so cursed, and take it upon himself to release her from the marriage bond. This is the primary reason why the sponsor is required to take the witch as his own wife. It is the sponsor's responsibility to take care of the witch and to protect her from any possible retribution._

He read through it several times before making a copy of it and leaving the library.

He had the solution in his hands. He did not feel the relief that he thought he would feel in this moment. He did not feel pride at figuring out her puzzle. He did not feel satisfaction that he would be able to help her. What he felt was dread, pure and simple. This was not an easy solution. There were other factors to take into consideration, things that he simply couldn't ignore just because she needed his help.

He immediately went to see Blaise at the bar. He walked in the front door, caught Blaise's eye, and headed back to the office. His friend followed him, aware instantly that something was wrong.

Draco was already pacing back and forth in his office by the time he got there. He stopped his pacing as soon as Blaise walked in and pulled two pieces of parchment from his pocket.

"I found it, Blaise. The last two on her list."

Blaise's brown eyes widened and he stepped forward to take the parchment from his friend. As agitated as Draco was in that moment, he wasn't sure he wanted to know what they said. He did, however, sit down on his desk and start reading.

"Wow." He set the parchment down on the desk when he was finished reading and watched his friend warily. Draco was pacing back and forth in the small office. "Okay, so we've got like six months, right? We just need to find an eligible bachelor that wouldn't mind being married to Granger for a year to step forward and be her sponsor. That doesn't sound too hard. Thomas is single, right?"

Draco shook his head almost violently.

"No. The sponsor has to testify that no one told them about the rite."

Blaise stared at his friend for a long moment before his eyes widened in understanding.

"Draco, you can't seriously be considering this? Did you read the whole article?"

"I read it." He ran his hand through his blonde hair in frustration.

"Then why in Merlin's name would you be thinking about it? You cannot do this!" Blaise couldn't believe his ears. Draco would actually consider marrying this girl? Why?

"Let me ask you a question, Malfoy. How many conversations have you had with Granger in your entire life that did not consist of yelling insults at each other, hexing each other, or her punching you in the face?"

"Not many," he admitted, his hand automatically reaching up to feel the spot where she had broken his nose back in third year. A small smile flitted across his face at the memory.

Blaise saw the smile and threw his hands into the air.

"Look mate, I know you have some kind of wierd obsession with this girl. I can understand the whole moral imperative of figuring out the puzzle of her journal. But _marrying_ her? That goes way above and beyond the call of duty. There has to be another way."

"There's not."

Silence hung thick in the air as the two stared at each other from across the room. Draco's gray eyes were filled with resignation, but also the beginnings of determination. Blaise's brown eyes were imploring him to see reason.

"Why, Draco? Why would you consider doing this?" He asked one more time.

Draco paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair before turning to face his friend. He wasn't sure why it was so important to him that Blaise understand. He needed his friend on his side if he was truly going to go through with it.

"You want to know why, Blaise? I'll tell you why. Because the last time she needed help I stood by and did nothing. Because she fought alongside me at the Final Battle. Because she saved my life and I owe it to her to return the favor. That's why."

Blaise was struck by the amount of passion in his voice. It almost left him speechless. He swallowed thickly as the realization of how important this was to Draco finally started to sink in.

"Alright. I understand where you're coming from. But you have to know what will happen if you do this." He picked up the parchment for emphasis. "You need to decide if she's truly worth it or not, Draco, because at the end of the day she's still a muggle-born, and you, my friend, are still the only heir of one of the oldest pure-blood families still in existence."

"I know that, alright? I'll be disowned, disinherited, and probably burned off the family tree." He sat down heavily in one of the armchairs and put his head in his hands.

"That's exactly right, Draco. For a witch that no one has seen or heard from in almost two years? You yourself have had like one conversation with her since Hogwarts! Could you really give up everything for her?"

Draco stared at the wall in front of him, though his stormy gray eyes saw nothing.

"I think that maybe I already have."


	9. Chapter 9

**{ ****Chapter Eight ****}**

_Four months later_

Work had picked up for the MLE in the past few months. All of the part-time agents had been called back to full-time duty, and Draco had been working double shifts and weekends for weeks now. They were all wishing for the days when they merely sat around, hoping for something to happen.

That had ended when the first of three murders had been reported. All three had been found in their homes by a family member. All three had been muggle-borns. All three had been married to pure-bloods.

Draco and Harry were leading the investigation and had spent countless hours following leads and chasing down dead ends. Neither of the two men had slept more than a few hours a night, and they were both on call twenty four hours a day.

The stress was getting to him, but it was more than just the stress of the case. Draco had been putting off talking to his parents for several months now. He had actually contemplated not even telling them at all. He knew he couldn't do that, though. He would face up to his father.

Sooner or later.

He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself before stepping into the fireplace and emerging at Malfoy Manor. He did not visit the manor often anymore. There were far too many bad memories held within the stone walls. Ghostly screams echoed down the corridors. Cries could be heard coming from empty rooms.

No, this building was no longer his home. It was a house of terrors that he avoided at all costs. He came to the manor only once a month, for a family dinner that his mother had insisted on.

He sat at the dining room table to his father's right, across from his mother, as he always had. The food was exceptional, as always, prepared to perfection by their house elves.

"Do you have any leads in your murder investigation?" Lucius asked about halfway through the meal. Draco and his father had not had a great relationship growing up, but Lucius had grown to have a certain amount of respect for his son in the years following the war.

"Nothing solid." He chewed on his steak thoughtfully, realizing this could be an opportunity to feel his parents out on the subject at hand. "I don't think its coincidence, though, that all three were muggle-borns and married to pure-bloods."

He watched his father carefully. This was information that had not been readily given to the public. He saw a flicker of something cross Lucius' face, but he couldn't be sure what it meant.

"Out of curiosity, what would you think if I were to marry a muggle-born?" Draco somehow managed to keep the anxiety off of his face as he watched his father for a reaction.

"Surely you know the answer to that, Draco." Lucius sneered at him. "I would say my son is dead to me. I will not have a mudblood in my family."

Draco's heart dropped. He had expected as much, but found himself to be disappointed all the same.

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic, dear. Who is she, darling?" Narcissa's face had lit up and a smile formed on her lips. "Have we met her?"

Lucius nearly choked on his steak.

Draco internally noted her enthusiasm, but externally he rolled his eyes at her. Then he considered his response. He could always go for something snarky like 'yes, you both met her when she was being tortured in our drawing room.' Probably best to leave that part out for now…

"I was speaking hypothetically, Mother."

"Narcissa! You cannot seriously be excited about the prospect of our son dating, let alone _marrying_ a _mudblood_?" Lucius' voice was low and dangerous, but she didn't seem to notice.

"He has not shown any interest in any of the pure-blood witches we've tried to set him up with, Lucius. I was starting to think I needed to look into a good wizard for him. So yes, even the prospect of a muggle-born daughter-in-law is better than none at all!"

Draco's fork clattered to his plate. His mouth opened and closed several times as he tried to come up with the words to express his thoughts in that moment. He found none.

"I'm not sure which is a bigger disgrace, Cissy. To have a son that is gay or to have a son that marries below his blood status." He turned his focus back to Draco and sneered yet again. "I am quite sure that either will get you disinherited."

"Oh Merlin! I am not gay!" He stood, dropping his napkin on his plate as his chair scraped against the hardwood floor. "I work twenty-four hours a day. I don't have time for dating. And I am not going to marry some simpering half-wit simply because she's a pure-blood. Thank you for the lovely dinner, Mother, but I really must be going now."

He didn't wait for their response before turning and walking out of the dining room. Later he would be able to laugh at the idea of his mother thinking that he preferred wizards, for now, though, he was simply horrified at the entire idea.

He had been home only a short time, long enough to take a shower and put on some flannel sleep pants and a t-shirt, when his floo glowed green and Narcissa stepped out of the flames.

When he saw the flames turn green, he had assumed it would be Blaise coming through, so he hadn't bothered to cover up his work. Now, however, he flicked his wand and all of the papers stacked up neatly and stored themselves away in his desk drawer.

"Draco, darling, you left without any dessert! Pinky made your favorite, too. She insisted that I bring it to you." She set down a box full of chocolate mousse on his desk and stepped back.

"Why didn't Pinky just bring it to me herself?" He made no move towards the box, recognizing it for what it was. It was an apology, maybe, or a bribe for more information. Probably a little bit of both.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you at dinner, darling. You know that your father and I will support you if…"

"Ugh. I'm not gay, Mother." He threw his hands in the air in frustration. "What will it take for you to believe me on this?"

Narcissa smiled a very sweet, innocent smile. The kind of smile that told Draco he had just fallen into her trap.

"You can tell me who she is."

He narrowed his eyes. He could tell her. He really should tell her. Especially since he had less than two months left before he needed to act. He made his decision then and took a deep breath.

"It's a long story, Mother." He stood from his desk and moved over to his armchair, motioning for her to join him on the couch.

"I don't need the details, Draco. Just give me a name." She sat on the couch facing him and poured herself a cup of tea.

He watched her carefully, not at all sure that she could be trusted with this information.

"I can't give you her name, Mother. Lives could be in danger if it gets out to the wrong person."

Her lips curled down in a pout.

"So what can you tell me, if not her name?"

Draco watched her for only a moment as she sipped her tea before nodding his head and continuing.

"I can tell you that she's in an abusive relationship and she needs my help to file to have her marital bond dissolved. By law, though, if I file on her behalf I agree to take full responsibility of her. Which means that I have to marry her myself."

Narcissa lowered her tea cup to the table and watched her son carefully. He was leaving out quite a bit of the story, she was certain of it.

"This witch, she is a muggle-born?" She waited for him to nod his head in assent, and then went on. "You must be very close to her to be willing to do such a thing?"

He laughed as he poured himself a drink and sat back in his chair.

"You would think so, but I honestly haven't spoken to her more than once or twice since Hogwarts."

She eyed him closely as she chose her next words carefully.

"Your father was completely serious, you know. Personally, I never really put much stock in the whole blood-purity thing. Your father, though, he believes it whole-heartedly. He always has. If you barely know this witch, why would you give up your entire inheritance for her?"

Draco exhaled deeply before standing up and crossing to the window. He stood there and watched as a fine mist softly fell across the grounds. He could feel his mother's eyes on him, watching him, waiting for a response.

"She's the one that cast the shield charm, Mother." He watched her reflection in the glass and saw her hand rise to cover her mouth. She then lowered her hand to rest right over her heart. She knew exactly what he referred to. "After she cast the shield charm and the ceiling began to collapse, she pushed me out of the way of the falling stones. She saved my life, when she had no reason to do so. Now it's my chance to save hers."

Narcissa had tears in her eyes as she moved to stand beside her son at the window.

"I won't tell a soul, Draco. But please, tell me her name. I want to know who my future daughter-in-law is."

He considered her for another long moment before realizing that she would know soon enough as it was.

"Very well, Mother, but you can't tell anyone. Not for another two months." He swallowed thickly and took a deep breath. "Her name is Hermione Granger…Weasley."

Narcissa's eyes widened and the color drained from her face. She closed her eyes and leaned against the window sill. Of course she remembered the girl. She remembered the girl only too well. Slowly she slid down to sit on the window seat. In her mind she was calculating dates and coming up with something so unbelievable she could barely fathom it. If what Draco had said was true, and she had no doubt that it seemed to be, then this woman, this witch, had fought alongside him and saved his life only weeks after being tortured in his home. What kind of a person did that take? A stronger person than she would ever be, of that she had no doubt as well.

"I'll talk to your father. See if I can make him see reason."

"Don't worry about it." He took a deep breath and released it. For the first time in months he did not feel a weight sitting on his chest, crushing him. He felt free. "My decision won't be based on his approval, one way or the other."

* * *

_Seven weeks later_

Draco Malfoy practically fell out of the fireplace with sheer exhaustion. The clock struck one o'clock in the morning as he stood and dusted himself off. He had been working a late shift with Potter, patrolling Knockturn Alley. There had been a rash of break-ins in recent days, along with thefts of several dark items. As a result, all patrols had been increased. Draco was feeling it in every bone in his body.

He collapsed onto the couch heavily and felt his eyelids sliding closed. Sweet sleep beckoned and he was ready to heed the call.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

His eyes flew open and his hand grasped his wand at the sound. Immediately he was alert, all evidence of exhaustion forgotten in a rush of adrenaline.

It didn't take him long to discover what was causing the offensive noise. An owl, small, brown and nondescript, sat on the windowsill and held an envelope in his grasp. The bird stared at him with a look that clearly said "it's about damn time, now what the hell are you waiting for?"

He released a breath that he hadn't even realized he was holding as he slid his wand back into its holster. Mumbling something about damn ruddy birds, he made his way to the window and took the package from the owl. The owl didn't fly away immediately, which meant it was waiting for a reply.

_Great, _he thought. Sleep would have to wait.

He returned to the couch and examined the envelope in his hands. It was completely blank, no indication that he was the intended receiver at all. There was a bulge in the package, indicating there was some sort of object inside, and it had some weight to it. He retrieved his wand once again and performed a series of charms over the envelope, looking for any sign of magic, charms or curses. Finding nothing, he slowly opened the seal and looked inside.

His eyebrows furrowed as he reached his hand into the envelope and wrapped his fingers around a rock. The rock, or more precisely the piece of stone, was about the size of his hand. One side was smooth, cut and shaped to precision. The other side was rough, jagged. On the smooth side, a date had been carved.

His hand tightened around the stone and he closed his eyes as he inhaled sharply. The date, that date, would be carved into the wizarding world forever. The Final Battle, The Battle of Hogwarts, the day Harry Potter fulfilled his destiny, the day Voldemort was defeated once and for all. Different people remembered it different ways.

For Draco, it would forever be the day that Hermione Granger had saved his life, twice, and he had sworn to return the favor someday.

The piece of stone in his hand, a piece of rubble from Hogwarts, from the exact wall that had nearly crushed him, and would have if Granger hadn't pushed him out of the way, was a reminder. A reminder of the debt he owed. After all, he owed his life to her, and now she intended to collect.

He looked at his calendar and was surprised to find that it was now September 1st, their fifth wedding anniversary. He had known this day was coming, but it still shocked him that it was finally there.

He stared at the stone, at the token of his debt, for many minutes. He had spent over two years figuring out what he needed to do to repay the debt. He knew what it would take, and he knew the consequences of those actions. He also knew that it was his choice. She would never make him do it.

The owl screeched to remind him that it was still waiting for his reply. If he sent the token back in the envelope, he would in effect be declining her request for help. If he sent the envelope back empty, she would know that he was ready to repay the debt and he would do whatever he could to save her life.

He ran his fingers through his blonde hair and glanced at the clock again. It was now almost two o'clock in the morning, and apparently the next day was going to be a very long day. He stood, handed the envelope to the owl, and watched as it flew out the window, carrying a wordless message back to the witch that no one had seen or heard from in over two years.

The token weighed heavily against his palm. He looked at the stone once more and smiled to himself, because despite knowing that he would in effect be signing over his inheritance the next day, at least he knew that wherever she was, she was still alive.


	10. Chapter 10

**{ ****Chapter Nine ****}**

Draco managed to get four hours of sleep before he woke up. The morning sky was just beginning to lighten up as he rolled out of bed and stepped into the shower. Twenty minutes later and he was dressed and ready to go.

He opened his desk drawer and pulled out two envelopes. One contained Hermione's journal and the translation. The other held the paperwork necessary to file at the Wizengamot. He had filled them out weeks ago in preparation for this day. He looked them over one more time as he drank his morning coffee.

He was ready to leave when the clock struck seven o'clock. With one final breath, he opened the floo and stepped through to the Ministry. The halls were still empty at this point in the morning, but that's exactly what he had planned on. He walked quickly through the hallways and ended up in front of the Minister of Magic's door.

"Malfoy. You're here awfully early this morning. Weren't you on night patrol with Potter last night?" Kingsley motioned him in and motioned him to take a seat in front of his desk.

"I was, actually. I'm here today on unrelated business, though."

Kingsley's eyebrow raised in question and he sat back in his chair, his hands clasped on the desk in front of him.

"Let's hear it then." He motioned for Draco to continue.

"I plan on filing these this morning. I wanted you to be aware before the shit hit the fan." Draco pulled the paperwork out of the envelope in his hand and laid it on the desk in front of the Minister.

He watched carefully as the Minister read through the forms and the attached paperwork that detailed the marriage rite and the legislation allowing a sponsor to speak on behalf of the afflicted wife. His dark face hardened and his piercing eyes pinned Draco in a powerful glare.

"These are very serious allegations against Mr. Weasley. Can I assume that you have irrefutable evidence to back up these claims?"

"Not at all, sir. Any evidence I have is purely circumstantial."

Kingsley read through the papers once again before handing them back to Draco.

"Does anyone else know about this?"

"Blaise Zabini helped me with research, and my mother knows bits and pieces." He placed the papers back in the envelope and sat back in his chair, by all rights looking relaxed and nonchalant. Inside, though, he was a bundle of nerves.

"Potter is going to wring your neck for keeping him out of this, you know."

Draco nodded in agreement, but did not justify himself. He simply could not trust Potter not to say something to Weasley. Harry Potter was many things, but patient and level-headed were not among them. For this operation it was imperative not to let on that anyone was on to the Weasel. It was the only way to keep Hermione safe.

"Very well. Good luck, Malfoy."

Recognizing the dismissal for what it was, Draco collected his things and left the office. His next stop was the legal office where he would file the papers.

The welcome witch smiled brightly at him. It was just wrong to be that cheerful at half seven in the morning.

"Good morning, Draco! What brings you to our little hole in the world today?"

He groaned to himself. Lavender Brown. The weasel's mistress herself. Wasn't that just perfect.

"Brown. I need to file some paperwork." He started to walk past her when she cleared her throat.

"Actually, you can just leave that here with me, you know. I can make sure it gets filed for you." She smiled and batted her lashes at him.

"Fat chance. I'll take care of it myself." He continued past her desk and opened the door to the legal office.

Oliver Wood was sitting at his desk drinking a cup of coffee and eating a donut. He looked up when the door opened and moaned to himself. So much for a quiet morning.

"Malfoy. We don't open until eight o'clock." He went back to his donut. Draco rolled his eyes and sat in the seat across from him.

"And yet, here you are. Please, don't let me keep you from your breakfast."

He considered the pastry in front of him for a few seconds before pushing it aside.

"So what's so important that it can't wait twenty five more minutes?"

Malfoy slid him the envelope.

"I need these filed as soon as possible."

Oliver was intrigued. It wasn't often that a Malfoy stepped into his office and needed something from him. He opened the envelope and pulled out the papers inside. As he read through them, he felt a deep, sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Hermione was his friend. If any of it was true, Ron Weasley would have hell to pay.

When he finished reading, he stamped all the papers as being received and he opened his calendar. He didn't say a word to Draco about the case, as much as he wanted to ask the man sitting across from him a million different questions. That, however, was not Oliver's job. His job was to file the paperwork and schedule the hearings. Plain and simple. The questioning would be left up to the Wizangamot under the influence of veratiserum.

"We had a cancellation late yesterday, so there is an opening at ten o'clock this morning?" He looked at Draco expectantly.

"That's fine with me. Can I assume that you'll notify all parties?"

"Absolutely. Owls will go out first thing."

Oliver made copies of all the paperwork and handed them to Draco, keeping the originals for himself. Draco nodded his understanding and turned to go. He paused at the door and looked back over his shoulder.

"Send them yourself, Wood. Don't trust Brown to do it."

Oliver looked puzzled, but he nodded in agreement anyway. He reasoned that it was too important of a matter to have Lavender mess it up or something. She had been known to send summons to the wrong witch or wizard from time to time.

* * *

Draco had returned to his office to get some work done before the trial. He had been sitting there for only a few minutes when an owl delivered his summons to be seen in front of the Wizengamot that very morning. He also got to see the look on Weasley's face when he received an identical summon. He was completely confused. It was perfect.

By ten o'clock they were all seated in the specified courtroom. The members of the Wizangamot, including the Minister of Magic, all filed into the room and took their seats. Kingsley met Draco's eyes for the briefest of moments before bringing the court to order.

"Mr. Weasley, today is your fifth wedding anniversary, is it not?"

Ron still had a confused, deer-in-the-headlights look on his face as he stood and faced the Minister.

"It is, sir, but I don't understand…"

He was cut off as Kingsley raised his hand in silence.

"Under wizarding law a wife has the right to petition the courts to dissolve her marriage bond on or after her fifth wedding anniversary."

The color drained from Ron's face and he shook his head emphatically.

"That's impossible! She couldn't…"

"However," he was once again cut off by Kingsley's booming voice. "It has been brought to this courts attention that due to an ancient type of magic, she may be unable to petition the court herself. In circumstances such as these, a sponsor may step forward to speak on her behalf."

Ron's blue eyes were wide as he stared at first Harry, then Draco.

"Mr. Malfoy, you are petitioning on Mrs. Weasley's behalf?"

"I am, sir." He rose and bowed his head slightly to the Minister.

"You are aware that as her sponsor you agree to take responsibility for Mrs. Weasley if her marriage bond to Mr. Weasley is broken? This responsibility includes taking her as your wife under normal wizarding law."

Ron and Harry were both staring at him now with eyes wide and mouths gaping.

"I am aware." A low murmur spread through the small crowd that had gathered in the room at his declaration.

"Very well. Under the law, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy will both be required to testify under veratiserum. Mr. Malfoy. We'll begin with you."

Draco nodded his head and stepped forward. One of the members of the court handed him a vial which he drank immediately. The first few questions asked were standard; name, age, etc.

Then came the more specific questions.

Did Hermione ask him to file the petition? Did he know where she was? Had he been in contact with her since she disappeared? Why did he believe she was under the influence of a marriage rite?

His answers had come easily. No, she didn't ask him to file the petition. He had not had any contact with her since her disappearance. He didn't know where she was, but suspected that her husband did. He had found mention of the marriage rite in her research when he conducted the investigation into her disappearance, and it had seemed to fit with the behaviors he and others had witnessed since her wedding.

When he stepped down from the stand, another low murmur could be heard coming from the growing crowd that had gathered in the courtroom. Sitting right behind his table were Blaise, his mother, and, much to his surprise and displeasure, his father.

Harry was watching him with an accusing glare, and Luna sat next to him with a happy smile on her face.

Ron still looked pale as he was led up to the stand and handed the vial of veratiserum. He looked out at the crowd nervously before swallowing down the potion. His family was sitting directly behind his seat, and they were all glaring at him.

"Mr. Weasley, did you or did you not perform the marital rite known as The Perfect Wife on your wedding night five years ago?"

"I did." His words were spoken through clenched teeth as he tried to fight the effect of the veratiserum. A gasp of shock echoed through the room.

Kingsley stared at the red haired man for a moment longer than necessary. When he had first read Draco's report that morning he thought the man had taken their childhood rivalry a step too far and would be humiliated in his courtroom. Ron's confession, therefore, sat like a stone in his stomach.

"Do you know where your wife is, Mr. Weasley?"

"Yes. She's at home, where she belongs." His blue eyes were shooting icy cold daggers at Draco.

Another murmur went through the crowd. Draco heard a noise to his right and turned his head just in time to see Harry jump over the barrier. He leapt to his feet and tackled Potter to the ground just before he crossed the witness protection line. Another step and he would have been zapped hard enough to warrant a visit to St. Mungo's.

"Enough. I will have order in my courtroom, do you understand me, Mr. Potter?" Kingsley shot them both a glare worthy of the Minister of Magic.

"I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again." Harry was literally shaking with rage as Draco pulled him to his feet and pushed him back to the visitor's benches.

"Pull it together, Potter. This isn't over yet." Harry nodded his understanding and took his seat. Blaise moved to sit next to him, and Draco sat back down at his table.

Kingsley waited for order to be restored before turning his attention back to Ron.

"You realize that the ministry has spent countless hours searching for Mrs. Weasley on your behalf. A false report is considered a minor infraction, but you will be required to pay back the ministry for any and all funds spent investigating this matter."

Ron swallowed thickly and nodded his head in agreement.

"But she was missing when I first filed the report!" He quickly stuttered out the words. "I mean, she wasn't really, she was there, but I couldn't find her. I really did think she was missing."

His eyes were darting between Harry and his mother, trying to find sympathy or support from those closest to him. He didn't find any.

"She was hiding?" Kingsley glared at him as he sought clarification, getting angrier by the minute. Ron fidgeted in his seat.

"She likes to push the limits." He mumbled it just low enough that only those closest to the front of the room could hear him, Draco and Harry included. Both men's fists tightened in anger.

"Have you during the course of your marriage, ever caused your wife bodily harm?" Anyone that knew Kingsley could hear the tightness in his voice as he asked the question that he was pretty sure he already knew the answer to.

"Yes."

"On more than one occasion?"

"Yes." Ron was now slouching in his chair, resigned to the fact that he couldn't fight the serum and his secret was out now anyway.

"On the night of the third anniversary ball for the Final Battle, your wife was severely beaten and assaulted. The lead investigator in the case felt that you were the one that assaulted her. Was he right?"

Again, Ron glared at Draco as he tried to fight the effects of the serum.

"Answer the question, Mr. Weasley. Did you assault your wife at the third anniversary ball?"

"Yes."

Harry had already known of Draco's suspicions, so part of him had already accepted the fact that Ron was guilty, but the other part of him, the part that didn't want to believe that his best friend could do that to his other best friend, was heartbroken to hear him admit it. Most of the women in the room had tears in their eyes. Luna, Ginny and Molly were crying openly. Narcissa was dabbing at her eyes daintily. Draco appeared to be calm, except for his hand that was still curled tightly into a fist at his side.

"And were you aware that under the marriage rite that you subjected her to, your wife was unable to defend herself or fight back against you?"

"That was the whole point, wasn't it?"

A hushed silence fell across the room, as though no one could believe what they were hearing. Kingsley himself was speechless for a long moment.

"I believe we can vote now. All those in favor of approving Mr. Malfoy's petition, therefore dissolving the marital bond between Hermione and Ronald Weasley, and creating a new marital bond between Hermione and Draco Malfoy."

Every hand in the Wizengamot, and most in the viewing section, raised high into the air.

"All opposed?"

No one moved.

"Very good. This court will take a one hour recess while Mr. Weasley and I go to the Weasley's home and retrieve Mrs. Weasley. She will need to be here when the marital contract is destroyed. Mr. Malfoy, as her sponsor, you will accompany us."

Draco nodded at the Minister and took a deep breath before standing. Idly he wondered, as he was following the Minster out of the courtroom, what he would say to her. What would she say to him? In a stark moment of realization he realized that he had spent over two years researching her disappearance, six months planning how he would go about getting her marital bond dissolved, and not a single moment thinking about what would happen next.

He shook his head slowly to clear away the errant thought. There would be plenty of time to worry about that later. For now, it was time to go save his witch and finally repay his debt to her.


	11. Chapter 11

**{ ****Chapter Ten ****}**

The courtroom buzzed with conversation as Draco followed the Minister into the hallway. Two aurors followed behind them. Draco wasn't familiar with the aurors, but they reminded him of Crabbe and Goyle. One man was tall and thin with dark hair; the other was short and stubby with no hair at all.

Kingsley went through the floo connection to the Weasley's house first, followed by Draco, then Ron, then the two aurors.

The house was just as spotless as he remembered from his one previous visit. The aurors searched the house while Kingsley, Draco and Ron waited in the sitting room. They spent several minutes glaring at each other before anyone spoke. It was an uncomfortable silence for all involved.

"How did you figure it out, Malfoy?" Ron had been asking himself that question all day. He tried to remember when he could have possibly slipped up, but had come up empty.

"Research, Weasley. I knew you were the one that attacked her at the ball a few years ago by the way you reacted afterwards. What I didn't know was why she wouldn't have fought back, why she stayed with you after that. When she disappeared at first I thought good for her. She managed to get away. When she never contacted anyone, like Harry or Luna, to let them know she was safe I started thinking maybe she didn't get away at all."

"She told you, didn't she? I don't know how, but somehow she managed to tell you." He picked up a picture frame and threw it across the room where it smashed into a wall and shattered. "Fucking bitch. She wasn't supposed to be able to tell anyone."

Draco watched him with caution, fully aware that the Weasel was hanging on by a thread.

"She never said a word. We've only talked one time since the Final Battle, Weasel, and that's when she was in the hospital. I took her statement and then she started talking to me about her work. Honestly, I tuned most of it out." A noise to his right had him looking over his shoulder at the wall. There was nothing there, but he could have sworn he heard 'hmph' coming from that direction. Shaking his head, he turned back around and continued. "I will never understand how she can find ancient runes so fascinating."

The aurors both returned to the sitting room empty handed, having found no trace of her in the house.

"Where is she, Mr. Weasley?" Kingsley was getting exasperated. To begin with, he was extremely disappointed in Ron Weasley, a man that he had mentored through the years following the war. When Draco had initially shown him the documents he planned to file with the court, he had thought it preposterous. After hearing the testimony, though, he was just anxious to see Hermione and make sure she was alright. He had always had a soft spot in his heart for the girl, as most in the wizarding community did. She was the epitome of what the light side fought for. To know that something like this had happened to her, at the hands of one of her best friends, simply broke his heart.

"She's around. She's gotten quite good at disillusionment charms over the years, isn't that right Mione?"

"Enough of these games. Tell her to show herself, Mr. Weasley."

Ron smirked at him before rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Hermione, let our guests see you."

The wall behind Draco, in the exact spot where he had heard a noise only moments earlier, began to shift and morph into the form of woman. Her curly brown hair was pulled into a tight ponytail. Her brown eyes remained downcast. She was wearing a red negligee that barely covered her thin body and matching three inch heels. There was a slight slump to her shoulders and Draco recognized immediately that she was embarrassed to be seen in such a manner, with five men standing around gawking at her. He removed his cloak and slipped it over her shoulders. She stood frozen in place, not daring to respond as he fastened the clasp around her neck.

"She's still my wife, Malfoy. I suggest you keep your hands to yourself." Ron's hands clenched into fists at his sides.

"Not for long, Weasel." Her eyes flickered almost imperceptibly up to meet his. He had been concerned that maybe, after all this time, maybe she had changed her mind. The hope he saw in her eyes at that moment, though, made him catch his breath and washed away any doubts in his mind.

"You think she wants to marry you, Malfoy? Really? She hates you as much as you hate her." Ron was fuming now. Seeing Draco act like he actually cared for her was just to much for him.

Draco's eyes narrowed and he glared at the red haired man, taking a step closer to him and positioning himself in between Hermione and Ron.

"I've told you before; don't assume you know me or anything about me. In fact, don't even talk to me, Weasel. Let's just get back to the Ministry so we can finish this."

"I agree. Let's move. Mrs. Weasley, if you would please come with us." Kingsley motioned towards the floo, but Hermione didn't move.

"I've already told you, she can't leave." Ron smirked. Draco and Kingsley watched him as he pulled a bottle of mead out of a wine cabinet and poured a small glass. He crossed the room and stood between Hermione and Draco. "What do you say, love? One final drink for the road? Drink it, Hermione."

A memory tickled at the back of Draco's mind, but it was forgotten as he watched Hermione's hand shakily reach for the glass. Her eyes flicked up to meet his and the hope he had seen earlier was replaced with sheer panic.

"You see, Malfoy, I think my 'Mione would rather die than marry a Malfoy. Isn't that right, 'Mione?"

Hermione's hand shook as she placed the glass against her lips. Her eyes closed and a single tear dripped down her cheek.

Suddenly the memory clicked. Sixth year. The bottle of mead. Poison.

He seemed to move in slow motion as he pushed Ron out of the way and reached for the glass in her hand.

He was too late. She collapsed to the floor and began to convulse.

"Weasley! What the hell did you do?" Kingsley held his wand to Ron's throat.

"Fuck. It was poisoned. I need a bezoar." Draco knelt beside her and tried to support her head. Her eyes had rolled back and she was shaking uncontrollably. Inside he was screaming. He was so close to saving her. He couldn't lose her now, not after everything they had been through to get to this point.

"I've got one." The tall, thin auror opened his field kit and pushed Draco out of the way so he could administer the bezoar. Draco, Kingsley and the two aurors waited anxiously as her convulsions gradually slowed and her breathing evened out. When her eyes fluttered open, Draco breathed out a sigh of relief.

"I swear to Merlin, Weasley, as soon as that bond is dissolved, you're a dead man," Draco ground out through clenched teeth. No one in the room bothered to argue the point.

Kingsley trained his wand on Ron. If he hadn't truly believed that Ron had placed The Perfect Wife curse on Hermione to begin with, he was now more than convinced. He forced Ron into a chair before using incarcerous to bind his hands and feet to the chair. Then he sent a patronus off to the Ministry. He had let this go on long enough and was determined to regain control.

Hermione was just starting to sit up with the help of Draco and the auror that had provided the bezoar when the fireplace glowed green and Oliver Wood stepped through.

"Ah, Wood. Do you have the contract?" Kingsley's eyes and wand never left Ron, but he lifted his free hand in the direction of the newcomer.

Oliver glanced around the room, taking note of Hermione sitting on the floor and Draco helping her to stand, Ron bound to a chair and Kingsley holding his wand steadily on him. He directed his attention to Kingsley and handed him the contract he had sent for.

Kingsley opened the contract and read through it quickly to verify it was the correct one, and then he waved his wand over it and muttered the incantation to dissolve the bond. A bright white light burst from the paper. It lasted only a few seconds before the paper itself caught fire and disintegrated in mid-air.

Hermione, who was now standing next to the couch, gasped as she again collapsed to her knees. Her hands covered her ears and she cried out in pain.

"Hermione? Are you okay?" Draco knelt down next to her. She shook her head almost imperceptively.

"It's gone." She whispered so low that he had to lean in closer to hear her. She looked up then and her brown eyes met his gray eyes. Her face broke into a brilliant smile and she threw her arms around his neck. "It's gone, Malfoy! Oh Merlin, you did it! I'm me again!"

His arms automatically wrapped around her as a wave of relief flooded through him. The curse was gone. She was free. He lifted her off the floor and set her down on her feet.

As soon as she was standing she kicked off her shoes and pulled the band out of her hair, letting it fall in curls down her back.

"I will never, ever wear my hair up again, I swear to all things holy." She looked around the room, highly aware that every eye was on her at that moment. Her gaze rested on Ron for a moment before focusing on Kingsley. "I'm going to go put on actual clothes. I suggest you have _that_ out of my house before I get back."

"Your house?" Ron yelled incredulously. "What do you mean your house? We aren't married any more, Hermione. Which means this is no longer your house. Besides, didn't you hear? You'll be marrying Malfoy by the end of the day. So get the hell out of my house, you bitch!"

"I bought this house before we were married, Ronald. That makes it my house. And I have every intention of selling it as soon as possible." She didn't wait for his response; she merely turned on her heel and walked back to the bedroom.

As soon as she was out of the room, Kingsley spoke up.

"Ron Weasley, you are under arrest. The charges against you are attempted murder, filing a false report with the ministry, and impeding a Ministry objective." Kingsley motioned to the two aurors in the room. "Escort Mr. Weasley to Azkaban until such a time that a trial can be scheduled."

Anti-apparition wards had been set up around the house, so the only way in or out magically was through the floo network. One of the aurors stepped forward to place the magic-binding cuffs on Ron's arms. Just as he was about to fasten the cuffs around Ron's wrists, without warning and with a small 'pop', he disappeared.

"What happened to the anti-apparition wards?" The short, bald auror asked. He was still standing in front of the spot where Ron Weasley had been standing only seconds earlier, holding the magic-binding cuffs in his hands.

Draco pulled out his wand and tested the wards, finding them still intact.

"They're good. He's here somewhere. Split up. Find him. I'm going to check on Hermione." He left the others in the sitting room and followed the hallway to the bedroom. He knocked on the door, but when he got no response he opened it and stepped through.

"Hermione? Are you in here?" He looked around and noticed that the bathroom door was slightly ajar. "Hermione?" He knocked on the door and gently pushed it open. She was standing on the other side of the door, fastening a pearl earring into her left earlobe.

Draco's breath caught in his throat as his gray eyes met her brown ones. Her brown hair fell in gentle waves down her back and across her shoulders. She was wearing a cream colored strapless dress that was fitted across her chest and flared out below her waist to fall just above her knees. Her shoes had a low heel and matched her dress perfectly. She was wearing simple pearl earrings and a string of pearls that matched. Her brown eyes had been highlighted with shimmering brown shadow and mascara; her lips were painted a dark rose color. Simply put, she looked classic, timeless, and absolutely beautiful.

She smiled at his reflection, a wide smile that lit up her whole face. It was probably the only real smile she had worn in years.

"You look amazing." He didn't really mean to say it out loud, but was glad that he did when her smile widened and she averted her eyes in embarrassment. "Are you about ready? We need to go."

She nodded at him silently and started packing her toiletry items into her beaded bag. He watched her for a moment before turning around and giving her privacy as he scanned the bedroom for any movement.

"I will never be able to thank you enough, Malfoy. You know that, right? I owe you a token, now. I swear to Merlin that I do."

"That's not how it works. We are even now." He laughed as he turned around to find her standing right behind him.

Without warning, she wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head against his chest. He hesitated only a moment before wrapping her up in his arms and holding her tight. They had both been ready and waiting for this moment for so long, it was hard to believe that it was finally there. Now that it was, he never wanted to let her go.

There were so many things that he wanted to say to her in that moment. There were so many things that he wanted to ask her. He just couldn't bring himself to break the silence between them, though. It was like they just needed that quiet moment between them before they had to return to the Ministry. There would be plenty of time to ask those questions that needed asked, to say those things that needed said.

For now, though, they just needed a moment.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: I know I promised no AN's during the story, but I had to drop a note to say I am so sorry for posting this chapter late. No excuses, it's just been a crappy week. I hope you are all enjoying the story. We're just over halfway through, so there is still plenty of story left to go. Stick with me and feel free to leave me a review letting me know what you think. I'm up to 50 reviews now. I'd love to hit 100! Thank you all for reading!**

**{ Chapter Eleven ****}**

Draco kept his hand on the small of Hermione's back as he guided her through the hallways to the courtroom. The hum of noise got louder as they got closer and she hesitated right outside the door. Her hand hovered over the door handle for a long moment.

"It sounds like all of wizarding London is in there." Her voice was barely more than a whisper and trembled slightly.

"You aren't far off, I'm sure." He could tell she was nervous. He could practically feel her trembling beneath his fingertips. But this was Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Princess, and she would never show her weakness. She took two deep breaths and he watched as she composed herself, wiping all emotion from her face and replacing it with a small insincere smile. She rolled her shoulders back and held her head high as she opened the door to the courtroom and stepped through.

A round of applause greeted them. She turned to the crowd and gave a small wave without actually focusing on any one person. She then allowed Draco to lead her to the table in the front of the room where she sat and waited for Kingsley to call the court to order. The applause had died down, but the conversation kept going, louder than before. She could hear people saying her name behind her, but she blocked them all out and kept her face forward.

Kingsley entered the room a few minutes later and the room immediately quieted. Draco noticed that the man looked agitated. He understood though. They had been unable to find Weasley at the house, which meant that there were more important things to do at the moment than waste time holding a wedding ceremony.

"May the court note the following. The marriage bond between Ronald and Hermione Weasley has been dissolved. Ronald Weasley has been charged with attempted murder, filing a false report with the Ministry, and impeding a Ministry Objective. He has escaped from Ministry custody and is still at large. A search is already underway to capture Mr. Weasley and bring him to justice for these crimes."

The crowd was stunned. Molly Weasley started crying and most in the room turned towards her and her family to see their reaction to the news that their youngest son was a wanted man.

"Mr. Malfoy, as previously stated you are now required to marry Miss Granger and remain married for no less than one year. This marriage will be legal and binding in every sense of the word. Are you prepared to marry Miss Granger at this point in time?"

"Yes, sir." There was no hesitation in his voice, which seemed to surprise many in the courtroom as a collective gasp echoed through the room.

"Very well. Miss Granger, are you aware that Mr. Malfoy has spoken as your sponsor and as such has taken responsibility of your well-being upon himself? Because of this, you will be required to marry Mr. Malfoy. Under wizarding law, you will have the option to request the marriage bond be dissolved on or after your fifth wedding anniversary. Are you prepared to marry Mr. Malfoy at this point in time?"

"Yes, sir." Again, no hesitation. Talking erupted in the courtroom as speculation began to spread. Draco's hand clenched into a tight fist under the table. Hermione didn't even flinch.

Kingsley sighed and motioned the two to step forward.

"Draco Malfoy, do you take Hermione Granger as your wife, to care for her and to protect her for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." The crowd had quieted down and the room watched in a shocked silence.

"Hermione Granger, do you take Draco Malfoy as your husband, to care for him, to honor and obey him, for as long as you both shall live?"

She swallowed thickly.

Draco could feel her hand trembling against his. He glanced over at her and noticed that the color had drained from her face. The entire courtroom held their breath waiting for her to respond.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened them again, she found Draco staring at her intently. She leaned closer to him and whispered, so only Draco could hear what she needed to say.

"I cannot vow to obey you." She squeezed his hand hard. "I won't ever make that mistake again."

Their eyes met again and he studied them for a long moment. He understood, of course, and he really couldn't blame her. Silently he nodded to her then leaned over to speak in a low voice to the Minister of Magic. Kingsley considered Draco's request before waving his wand over the contract.

"Hermione Granger, do you take Draco Malfoy as your husband, to care for him and to honor him for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." She smiled and released a nervous breath before squeezing Draco's hand once more in appreciation.

"Very well. Do you have rings?"

Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a green velvet box. He opened the box and set it on the table next to the marriage contract. On one side sat a gold band with a pattern of leaves inset in black gold surrounding the Malfoy family crest. On the other side of the box sat a gold band with an oval shaped emerald overlaying the same crest. The rings had been in the Malfoy family for generations. They were infused with ancient magic and protection charms which had long been coveted, but were completely useless to anyone other than a Malfoy.

"You have both read the contract and agreed to its terms. Draw your wands." He paused for a moment as Draco and Hermione prepared their wands. "Tap the parchment and state your full name."

Hermione went first, followed by Draco. They watched as their signatures were added to the parchment. Once complete a silver glow emanated from the paper.

"Now the rings. Draco, remove Hermione's ring from the box and place it on her left hand with the words 'With this ring, I thee wed'."

Draco picked the ring up off the velvet lining of the box and suddenly a thought flitted through his mind. _This is it, _he thought. _I'm actually marrying Hermione Granger!_

He swallowed thickly as he lifted her hand and slipped the ring on her finger.

"With this ring, I thee wed." The ring magically adjusted itself to fit her perfectly.

Hermione lifted his band out of the box and repeated his actions, slipping the ring on his finger and stating "With this ring, I thee wed." As she slipped it into place, both rings hummed in acceptance and the marriage contract glowed with a golden light.

Hermione and Draco could each feel the magic from the rings seeping into their energies. It was unexpected and enthralling. They stared into each other's eyes, caught in the moment until Kingsley cleared his throat.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. Draco, you may kiss your bride."

He hesitated only a moment before leaning in and brushing his lips over hers. He wasn't prepared for her reaction, though. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close. Her lips pressed against his and moved slowly, gently. His reaction was instantaneous. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close as he returned her kiss. It was a soft, slow kiss, but it was full of feeling, full of passion, full of spark. They pulled apart much quicker than either one of them wanted to, only because of the captive audience that was watching their every move.

Kingsley, like everyone else in the room, felt his curiosity increasing by the minute. From his point of view, Draco and Hermione had never been friends. They had never even been associates as far as he knew. Supposedly they had had no contact over the last five years. And yet they had both readily agreed to get married. And they were kissing each other as though they were old lovers reunited.

Someday he would figure it out, but it wouldn't be today. When the couple turned back to face him, he raised his hands over his heads and made the final pronouncement.

"May I present Mr. and Mrs. Draco Malfoy."

A stunned type of applause filled the courtroom as the couple turned to face the crowd. Hermione's eyes immediately landed on Harry. He looked…bewildered. Luna was sitting next to him with a small smile on her face, looking dreamy as always.

Draco's eyes found his parents. His mother was dabbing at her eyes daintily. His father was glaring daggers his direction. Suddenly Lucius Malfoy stood and cleared his throat.

"Minister Shacklebolt, please file this copy of my Last Will and Testament along with the marriage bond. As long as the bond is intact, Draco is to be disinherited." Another gasp sounded through the crowd. Draco himself cringed and Hermione squeezed his hand. He had known it was coming, but was hoping his father would choose a more private setting than this. As it was, all he could do was hold his head up and meet his father's penetrating glare.

"As of today, boy, you will no longer have access to Malfoy funds, property or land. If no heir is presented within the next year, then at sundown one year from today if the marriage bond still holds your name will be burnt off the family tree permanently and you will be dead to me."

The air around the two men was charged as onlookers held their breaths.

Draco had two options. He could placate his father, agree with him that the marriage would be over in a year's time and assure him the pureblood line would not be spoiled. Then again, he thought as he glanced at his new wife, he could always just tell the man to fuck off.

"Honestly, Father, that's more than I expected from you. I will make you no promises on the duration of my marriage, though. Hermione will remain my wife for as long as she'll have me as her husband."

Hermione was as surprised by his words as everyone else that was listening. She felt herself smiling, just a little bit. Through her years of research, of planning, and of waiting, she had come to terms with the fact that she would have to marry Malfoy. She had always thought of it as a transitional phase, a large step up from being married to Ron, and when the year was over she could go off to live by herself in a small cottage in the middle of nowhere with twenty cats and a gigantic guard dog.

Maybe, just maybe though, maybe it wouldn't have to be like that.

_Don't be ridiculous, Hermione. He's just trying to get under his Father's skin. It's not like you're going to live happily ever after with Draco Malfoy! Still, I wouldn't mind trying that kiss again, later when we're alone, in the dark, naked. _

She shook her head slightly. It would not do to continue that line of thinking. She was certain that he would not want her in that way. This wasn't a real marriage. Draco was merely paying off his life-debt. In a year's time the debt would be paid and they would go their separate ways.

As Hermione became lost in her thoughts, she tuned out everything going on around her. She didn't notice when Lucius left the courtroom with a barely veiled threat and a sneer, or when Narcissa smiled sweetly at them and followed her husband. She didn't notice Harry and Luna watching her from across the room, watching but not stepping forward to say hello to her. She didn't even notice when Draco took her elbow and guided her out the door into the now empty corridor.

He wasn't sure exactly when he had lost her, but at some point during his conversation with his Father he had realized she wasn't paying any attention. She was standing next to him, but her mind was a million miles away. As he guided her to an open floo, he began to wonder what she was thinking about.

"Are you okay?" he leaned down and spoke into her ear in a low tone.

The sound of his voice broke her from her thoughts and sent a wave of energy coursing through her body. She reflexively turned toward the sound of his voice and was surprised further by his proximity. His face was only inches away from hers.

Their eyes connected, molten silver and chocolate brown collided and neither one dared to breathe. In that instant all of her other thoughts melted away. Hermione was not a spontaneous person. Under normal circumstances she was all about planning and contingency planning. For this, though, there was no planning. There was no forethought. The only thought that echoed through her mind was that she wanted to kiss him again. In the spur of the moment she could not think of any reason not to kiss him.

For a long moment they stood in the hallway, inches apart, eyes locked together, neither moving, neither breathing. Then before she could talk herself out of it and before she could think of the million reasons why it was a bad idea, she moved forward, closing the gap between them and pressing her lips against his.

His hands wrapped around her waist as he responded to her soft kiss. Their lips moved against each other with increasing intensity and he was about to deepen the kiss when the sound of laughter echoed down the corridor. He suddenly remembered where they were and pulled away reluctantly, leaning his forehead against hers as he caught his breath.

He had never considered that a possible perk of being married to Hermione was that she would be such an incredible kisser.

"Are you ready to go home?"

She took a shaky breath before nodding at him, stepping back and taking his hand. They stepped into the green flames together and emerged moments later in the study at his…their house.


	13. Chapter 13

**{ ****Chapter Twelve ****}**

Draco stepped into his study next to Hermione. He watched her for a moment as she looked around at the unfamiliar room, but soon he found his mind wandering to the kiss they had shared at the Ministry. A part of him had dreaded marrying Hermione. Being disowned had only been one of his concerns. The two of them did not exactly have a good history and they really didn't know each other at all. At best he thought it would be uncomfortable living with her for at least a year. Blaise had been less optimistic. He had given them two weeks of living together before they would be ready to kill each other.

What Draco hadn't expected was the attraction, the spark, and the desire that he was feeling. That kiss changed everything. What did it mean? What did it represent?

A movement to his right caught his eye and he looked up to see Hermione pacing in front of the desk. She was mumbling to herself. He couldn't quite understand her so he stepped closer so he could hear her. She didn't seem to realize that he was listening to her.

"…and that kiss was amazing. I mean, it actually made me want more, and I've never wanted more. Oh Merlin! What if it made him want more, too? That would mean sex, and I'm not good at sex. At all. He'll be disappointed and then we'll end up being awkward and counting down the days until we can get away from each other. And just because I've never enjoyed sex doesn't mean that he doesn't. He's a man right? Every man enjoys sex. And I can't really expect him to go a whole year without, can I? Fuck. I really shouldn't have kissed him." She stopped pacing and covered her face with her hands as she took a deep breath.

Draco stood, dumbfounded as he listened to her rambling. His mind reeled at the things she was saying. She couldn't really think that he would do that to her, did she? He swallowed thickly as he realized that she had just spent five years living with a man that would, and most likely did force himself on her. He was just thinking about how they didn't really know each other. For all she knew, he might be just like that asshole Weasley.

"Hermione," he stepped in front of her and gently pulled her hands away from her face. Her cheeks were tinged bright pink.

"I just said that all that out loud, didn't I?" Her brown eyes were wide and her voice was slightly louder than a whisper.

"You did, yeah." He smirked at her before reaching up and hooking her hair back behind her ear. "Let's just take a step back here, okay? We're obviously attracted to each other, which is unexpected but not a bad thing."

He tilted her chin up so that she was looking into his eyes and hoped that his expression conveyed the sincerity that he felt. He needed her to believe him because what he was about to say was the most important thing that he had probably ever said to anyone.

"I need you to understand this. I will never force you to do anything that you don't want to do. Never. When we sleep together…if we sleep together, it will be because you want to."

She searched his eyes for a long moment before nodding her head slowly to let him know that she understood. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

"I'm not him, Hermione."

The façade she had kept up all day crumbled as the enormity of the day's events finally hit her with full force. Her shoulders shook as sobs overtook her. Draco didn't have a lot of experience with women having emotional breakdowns, but he hesitated only a moment before gathering her in his arms and letting her cry.

He didn't know how long they stood there. It might have been five minutes or two hours. However long it took, he held her until the tears stopped and she was breathing normally again. She stepped away from him slowly and wiped the tears from her face.

"I'm sorry, Draco," she said with a small laugh. "I'm such a mess."

"Don't be sorry. It's fine." He performed a quick drying spell on his shirt. "What do you say to some dinner? Then I'll give you a tour of the house."

She nodded in agreement and let him lead her down the hall to the dining room. Pinky had prepared them a grilled chicken dinner with salad and potatoes. He wondered if she would say anything about the small elf that was setting the table when they walked in, but she didn't say a word about it. She didn't even seem to notice the small creature.

They ate slowly and didn't talk much at all other than a few words here and there. It wasn't uncomfortable, though, they were just both lost in their own thoughts.

When they were finished eating, the meal and the plates disappeared and was replaced with a box wrapped in silver paper.

Hermione eyed the box for a long moment before she laughed lightly.

"Do you always get presents with your meals?"

Draco rolled his eyes at her implication. Yes, he was a spoiled brat in school. It's not like they were still in school, was it? Not to mention he had been disowned only hours earlier.

He opened the envelope and pulled out a wedding card. He opened it to find his mother's signature on the inside. He really should have known.

"It's a wedding gift from my Mother." He noticed that she stiffened, automatically on alert. "Don't worry, Mother has nothing against you; or us for that matter. I'm pretty sure she's just thrilled that I'm not gay."

Her eyes widened and she couldn't hold in her laughter.

"There is nothing wrong with it if you are, Draco."

"Very funny, Hermione." Though he wasn't thrilled that she was laughing at his masculinity, the sound of her laugh was worth it. He opened the box and removed a white wedding book and a silver picture frame. Both were engraved with the words "Draco & Hermione Malfoy, September 1, 2013".

"Awe. That was really sweet of her." Hermione picked up the book and started flipping through the pages. Of course they were all blank, except for one. On the page titled 'How we met' there was a picture. Her fingertips glided over the picture as she studied the image.

They were in Flourish and Blotts buying their school books. Hermione was standing on the stairs overlooking the first floor. Draco was standing at the bottom of the stairs. From the look of their uniforms, they must have been in fifth year. They turned at the same time and met each other's eyes.

They didn't sneer at each other. They didn't reach for their wands. They just stood there.

"I remember that day." She handed him the book so he could look at the picture. "Funny how in that moment we don't look like we hate each other."

Draco watched the moving picture for a long moment. He remembered that day as well. When she had turned towards him, the sunlight had filtered through the window to glow softly behind her making her look quite radiant. It almost took his breath away.

"In that moment I'm not sure that we did." He closed the book with a snap.

"It didn't last long." She smirked at him as she remembered that day and what happened in the following moments. "When I tried to walk past you, you tripped me. I broke my wrist when I fell down the stairs."

"I couldn't have people thinking I was being nice to you, now could I?" Draco rolled his eyes at the thought. Back then, that would have been the worst thing he could do. "Not to mention, my Father was watching, so I had to make an ass out of myself. I had a perfect opportunity, I took it. And then you hit me with a stinging hex right in the face. I looked like I had been attacked by an entire bee-hive for the next eight hours."

Enough time had passed and they had both grown up enough that they could look back on these immature moments and laugh at themselves, and laugh they did.

Since they were both finished eating, Draco took her on a tour of the house as promised. On the ground floor were the study, the kitchen and dining room, and a sitting room. The second floor held the bedrooms.

He opened the door to the master suite first and she tentatively stepped inside. It was decorated beautifully in earth tones with a king size bed and a walk in closet that was big enough to house her former bedroom.

"I have to tell you, I expected green and silver."

"Of course you did." He laughed at her joke, but his mind was elsewhere, namely on the beautiful brunette standing only inches from his bed. He swallowed thickly. "So, um, your room is across the hall."

She stopped what she was doing and turned to look at him.

"My room? I had assumed…" her face flushed bright red and she averted her eyes.

"Not until you're ready. Come on." He led her back out to the hallway and opened the door on the other side. He had the room decorated in shades of purple and white. The room was slightly smaller than his. There was a queen sized bed and a walk in closet. There was also a balcony overlooking the backyard.

The two bedrooms were joined by the master bathroom, which held a four-head walk in shower and a bathtub that was big enough to be a small pool.

"I have to tell you, Malfoy, I think I'm in love with your bathtub. I will be spending long hours in there, I assure you."

"Well, before you dive in, there is one more room that I'm pretty sure you'll like. Follow me."

Intrigued, she followed him down the hall and up the staircase to the third floor. As she stepped through the doorway she couldn't believe her eyes. The entire third floor was a library with floor to ceiling shelves overloaded with books.

Draco smirked to himself at the look on her face. He had known she would love this room, probably as much, if not more than he did.

"This is absolutely perfect." Her whole face lit up with her smile. She surprised Draco by wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. "I love it!" she whispered in his ear.

"I figured you would. It's getting late. I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted."

She readily agreed, but was reluctant to leave the library without exploring it first.

They went back downstairs and Draco stopped in front of the door to the spare bedroom. He had the urge to kiss her one more time, which he tried to suppress. Really, he did. But then she looked up at him from under those thick lashes and he lost his self control. He leaned in and kissed her. Like the kiss at the Ministry, this one started slow but quickly grew in intensity. A small part of him worried that she felt like he was pressuring her. That part stopped worrying when she tangled her fingers in his hair and shoved her tongue in his mouth. He captured it, sucked on it. She moaned deeply and her knees weakened. His hands splayed across her back gripped her tighter so she wouldn't fall.

He knew he needed to slow down soon or he wouldn't be able to stop. He slowed the kiss down and stepped back away from her. She tried to follow him, but he stopped her gently.

"I can't Hermione. I don't know how much self-control you think I have, but we're getting very close to the limit. We need to stop now." Although he was saying they needed to stop, his hands were still running gently up and down her arms and he was peppering her face and neck with small kisses.

She bit her lip gently as she thought about what he was saying. She didn't want to have sex with him tonight. Well, she did, obviously. Her body was ready, but her mind wasn't.

"Right then. We're stopping now." She kissed him one more time slowly before backing away. "Good night, Draco."

She turned to go into the bedroom, but Draco put his hands on her waist, stopping her with her back turned to him. He stepped up behind her and kissed her neck tenderly. She leaned into him and moaned softly, tilting her head to the side to provide better access. If he kept that up, her body was going to overrule her mind.

"When you're ready, Hermione, I will make you feel better than you ever have before. I guarantee that you will enjoy every minute," he whispered before kissing her neck one last time, then turning away and going to his room, where he intended to take a very cold shower.

Hermione's heart was beating fast as she closed the door behind her. She reached up and touched the spot on her neck where his lips had been only moments before. He had already made her feel better than she ever had before. And yes, she had enjoyed it immensely. She could only imagine what it would feel like to do more with him, and imagine it she did as she lay in bed alone that night and dreamt of her new husband.

**AN: Again, sorry for the late posting. I'm getting behind in my schedule and need to get caught back up. I'm going to post an extra chapter this weekend, then I'll be back on schedule. Thank you all for reading. If you have a minute, drop me a review and let me know what you think. :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**{ ****Chapter Thirteen ****}**

Draco didn't sleep well at all that night. Too much had happened; too much had changed. The next afternoon he found himself in his study reviewing case files, but unable to concentrate on them. He wasn't surprised at all when the fire glowed green and Harry stepped through.

"I wondered when you would show up. I really thought you would be here hours ago."

Harry didn't answer him at first. He plopped down in the armchair and sighed heavily. Draco waited and watched as Harry opened his mouth several times to speak but nothing came out.

"I didn't want to interrupt your honeymoon," he finally managed to respond.

Draco rolled his eyes. He expected shit from Potter about the whole situation. He had just really hoped it would wait a few days.

"I know you have a million questions, so just spit it out, Potter."

"Right. It was in her journal, wasn't it? That's how you knew?"

"Not exactly." He closed the file in front of him, knowing this would be a long conversation and he wasn't likely to get any more work done. "I told you it was a list of books and references. It was her research on the curse. I followed the research and put two and two together."

Harry regarded him for a long moment. It seemed like he couldn't decide which question to ask next. Suddenly he stood up and glared at Draco.

"Dammit Malfoy! I'm your partner and she's my best friend. You should have told me what the hell was going on!"

Draco stood also and met Harry's glare.

"What would you have done? If I told you a year ago that she was still at his house against her will? That he could be forcing her to do things she didn't want to do and she had no way to fight back? That without another message from her to let us know she was alive, he could have easily killed her and buried her in their backyard for all we knew and no one would ever know the difference? So what would you have done with that information, Potter?"

Harry's face had turned dark red as his anger mounted. Anger at Ron for what he had done to Hermione. Anger at Draco for knowing what was going on and not telling him. Anger at himself for not knowing. And anger again at Draco for being so damn right not to tell him.

"That's exactly why I didn't tell you. You would have tipped him off that we knew and he would have taken it out on her. I couldn't take that chance!"

Harry had the strong urge to throw something. He settled for smacking his palm on desk.

"I should have known!" He turned around and paced back and forth a few times before returning to stand in front of the desk. "I need to know what happened. I need to know what he did to her."

Draco's eyes snapped to his. They were hard and cold. Harry almost flinched just from that look.

"I didn't ask her and I have no intention of doing so. If she wants us to know, she'll tell us when she's ready."

Harry was taken aback by the fierce protectiveness in his voice. It brought him to the other question that he had. The other reason that he had come over. He couldn't think of a good transition to the topic, so figured he would just jump in with both feet.

"Were you and Hermione secretly involved at Hogwarts?"

Draco barked out a laugh and ran his hand through his hair.

"Why in Merlin's name would you think that? We hated each other in school. Everyone knows that."

Harry turned away from the desk and walked across the room to stare out the window as he thought about their Hogwarts days.

"Did you really? She defended you a lot back then, you know."

Draco went completely still at those words.

"She defended me? When? Why?"

"Sixth year, when I was convinced you were up to something."

"You were right. I was." Draco's hands balled into fists. He wasn't proud of the things he had done that year, and he didn't like being reminded of them.

"Yeah, I was right, but she spent the whole year trying to convince me that I was wrong."

Draco swallowed thickly. Why would she have done that? He was a complete ass to her in school.

"When I hit you with the sectumsempra curse, she didn't talk to me for weeks. She went to visit you in the hospital wing, more than once."

"You're full of shit, Potter. She never visited me in the hospital wing. Why in Merlin's name would she do that?"

Harry turned away from the window to look at his partner. He looked to be genuinely surprised. But Harry knew it to be true. He had watched her on the marauder's map. She had stayed there with him for hours.

"You tell me, Malfoy." The room was silent for a long moment as the two men glared at each other.

"She even defended you after we were captured and she was tortured right in front of you and you did nothing! She insisted that you were as much a prisoner as we were. Ron and I, we just thought she was naïve, wanting to see good in people that wasn't really there. But it was more than that, wasn't it?"

"That's enough Harry."

Both men snapped their heads toward the clearly angry female voice. Hermione was standing just inside the doorway wearing jeans, a brown sweater and brown boots. Her hair fell in soft curls over her shoulders. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her brown eyes flashed with anger.

"I was naïve about a lot of things back then Harry, and it ended up costing me five years of my life. But I wasn't being naïve about Draco. I was right about him, and you know it. You work with him every day. You know that he's not the evil git that you thought he was back then."

"Yeah, I know that now, but how did you know back then?" Harry crossed the room to stand in front of her. His green eyes were flashing with anger as he stared into her brown ones for the first time in years. "If the two of you weren't involved, how did you know?"

"Because I pay attention, Harry." She took two steps away from him. "You would have known too if you could have looked past your hatred and bias."

Harry turned and paced away from her, running his hands through his hair in frustration. He was getting nowhere with this. Apparently they were both sticking to the same story. It was time for a new tactic.

"Fine. If it wasn't at Hogwarts, then when was it? You and Ron got married six months after the Final Battle, and you spent most of that time in Australia looking for your parents. It just doesn't make any sense! You hated each other in school. You had one conversation, what, three years ago? About Hermione's work? That you said you didn't even pay attention to? And now suddenly the two of you are in love? What the hell am I missing?"

Draco and Hermione's eyes widened.

"Woah. Wait a minute, Potter. No one ever said anything about love here." Draco waved his hand between himself and Hermione. "We did what we had to do to get her out of Weasley's grasp. That's all."

"Exactly!" Hermione nodded her head in agreement.

Harry looked from one to the other in bewilderment. Could it be possible that they didn't know? That they didn't see what everyone else had seen the day before? He reached into his cloak and pulled out the Daily Prophet from that morning and tossed it on the desk.

"In that case, the two of you put on one hell of a show."

Hermione crossed the room to stand beside Draco as he opened the paper. On the front page was a picture of the two of them standing in the corridor outside the courtroom. They were staring into each other's eyes, and then they were kissing. The image repeated in a continual loop.

"Holy shit." She swallowed thickly as she watched. They looked like lovers that had been reunited after a long absence. "It's not what it looks like, Harry. And you should know better than to believe anything that Rita Skeeter writes."

"What is it then, Hermione?" His eyebrows rose. "Explain it to me."

"It's none of your damn business, Potter." Draco dropped the newspaper back down on the table. His eyes remained on the image, though.

Hermione felt her anger rising. She clenched her hands into fists in an effort to control it, but just the thought that Harry could actually believe the rubbish in the paper, that he could actually think that she and Draco had been secret lovers for years and had planned this elaborate ruse just to get _him_ thrown in Azkaban. Why? For what reason or purpose? Why not just kill the bastard and be done with it?

"You want to know what it was, Harry? Why I kissed him? How about gratitude? Or relief? You have no idea what it was like, being trapped in that house day in and day out, a prisoner in your own fucking home for years. Years, Harry! With nothing to do but wait and hope that Draco would figure it out. That he would do what needed to be done, knowing what would be at stake for him. You have no idea, Harry, so don't you dare judge me." The air around her practically sizzled with her anger.

"You're right. I don't have any idea. Give me an idea. Tell me."

Draco's hand hit the desk and echoed off the walls as he stood and glared at Harry.

"Dammit Potter. You just couldn't resist, could you? I told you she would talk when she wanted to talk. You don't have to tell him anything, Hermione."

Hermione glared at Harry for a few long moments. Her anger was simmering just below the surface. Her eyes were narrowed, and her hands were clenched into tight fists.

"What the hell do you think it was like? You don't really want to know, Harry. You want me to say 'oh, don't worry; it wasn't all that bad really.' Or maybe you want me to tell you that even though he had the power over me, he didn't abuse it. Well, I can't tell you those things because they aren't true." She wiped angrily at the tears that had started to fall and took a few deep breaths. Draco reached for her but she shrugged him off and took several steps back.

"On our wedding night he told me he had something special planned. I was nervous and excited and, what was the word you used? Oh yeah, naïve. He caught me off guard because I trusted him, because I thought I loved him. Love. Ha! He never loved me. He never wanted me. All he wanted was to prove to himself that I was nothing. That he had outsmarted me. Fucking asshole."

"Hermione, you really don't have to do this." Draco approached her slowly. The air around her was still sizzling, literally, with sparks radiating from her aura sproradically.

"No, I do. You both want to know, don't you? It's okay. I'll tell you. But we are having this conversation only one time and then we are never discussing it again. Do you both understand?" Her eyes were practically glowing. Draco tried to get closer to her, but the static field around her held him back. Harry had sensed it too and both men had their wands out and ready. Uncontrolled magic of this magnitude could cause a lot of damage. They needed to be ready for it.

Hermione started pacing back and forth across the room, trying to calm herself down. She knew she was upset and angry, but she had no idea how much power she was emanating at the moment. After a few moments she stopped and turned her glare back to Harry.

"It was mostly about humiliation with him. Insults. Threats. Treating me like dirt. But yeah, it was physical too. He would slap me around or have sex with me. Not as much in the last couple of years. Apparently he preferred sex with Lavender. Thank Merlin. And he didn't want to risk getting me pregnant again. Wouldn't want a little half-blood spawn running around, now would we?"

"Fuck. He knew about the baby." Draco commented to himself, but she heard him loud and clear. She clenched her hands into fists and curled them around her stomach. A vase sitting on the table next to her exploded into a thousand shards of glass. She didn't even notice.

"Hermione." Harry spoke calmly as he stepped closer to her. There were small trickles of blood running down the side of her face where the glass shards had embedded themselves in her flesh.

At the sound of his voice her eyes refocused on him. When she spoke again her voice was low and rough. The sound of it sent cold chills down his spine.

"You want to know what it was like? It was terrifying. Every day. The only thing that kept me going was knowing that Draco had my journal, that he knew how to read it, and that he owed me one hell of a favor. So I'm sorry if you're feeling a little left out here, Harry, but honestly keeping you in the loop has been the least of my fucking worries."

A shockwave of raw power ripped through the room. Furniture was overturned. Frames were ripped off the walls. Books were pulled from the shelves. Draco and Harry were thrown backwards like ragdolls where they collided with the wall before falling to the floor in a heap.

Hermione, her power completely spent, collapsed at the epicenter of the damage.


	15. Chapter 15

**{ ****Chapter Fourteen ****}**

Draco opened his eyes slowly against the dim lighting in the room. He was lying on a hard mattress and there was a soft beeping noise coming from somewhere above his head. It didn't take him long to realize he was in a bed at St. Mungo's. He got the distinct feeling he was being watched; a feeling that was confirmed when he turned his head and saw Theo sitting in the hard plastic chair next to him.

He tried to sit up, but quickly realized his whole body was in pain. He inhaled sharply and lay back down.

"What the hell happened?" His voice came out rough from disuse. "I feel like I got ran over by a stampeding herd of hippogriffs."

"We were hoping you could tell us. Cho and I were sent to your house to investigate a magical power surge and an explosion. The place was a disaster."

Images started to flood back to him. Potter asking questions he shouldn't be asking. Hermione getting angry, yelling at him, telling them awful things, and then losing control of her magic. He remembered the shockwave. He remembered flying through the air. Then, nothing.

"Hermione? Is she okay?" It was the first thought on his mind. When had her well-being become so important to him that he would ask about her first instead of his partner? Theo seemed to notice as well, raising his eyebrow in question but not commenting.

The door opened and a Healer with short blonde hair and a bright pink uniform walked in. She smiled brightly when she saw that he was awake and practically bounced across the room to his bedside.

"You're awake! How are you feeling Mr. Malfoy?" She started waving her wand over his body, checking that broken bones were healing and there was no more internal bleeding. She didn't wait for his answer and she didn't listen to his grumbling. "It looks like everything is healing up just fine. You should be able to leave in the morning."

"What about Hermione?" He asked again. "Is she okay? I want to see her."

The Healer faltered, glancing at Theo before returning her attention to Draco. She plastered another smile on her face, this one as phony as could be.

"We did not find anything wrong with your wife, Mr. Malfoy, with the exception of a few cuts and scratches. She did not sustain the same injuries as yourself or Mr. Potter."

He wanted to breathe a sigh of relief at her words, but the nervous look she was shooting towards Theo stopped him. There was something else. Something she hadn't told him yet. Something that he wasn't going to like.

"She's home then?" Judging by the atmosphere in the room, he knew that was the wrong conclusion to jump to.

"No. She's still here, under observation." Theo watched him carefully for his reaction.

Draco nodded in understanding. They knew that she had caused the explosion then. She was probably in the uncontrolled magic ward.

"Can you bring her in to see me, then?" A terrible thought crossed his mind. What if she didn't want to see him? What if she blamed him for what happened? That was just ridiculous really. He had specifically told Potter not to ask her any questions about her time with Weasel.

"I can't do that just yet. We have some business to discuss first."

"I want to see my wife, Theo. It's not a complicated request." His eyes narrowed and his voice took on that cocky Malfoy tone that he always seemed to fall back on when he wanted to see results. Probably because it always worked.

The Healer fidgeted with her smock and avoided eye contact like the plaque.

"That's not a good idea, Mr. Malfoy. You need some rest. Perhaps tomorrow you'll feel up to seeing her, yes?" She smiled at him once more before flouncing out of the room as quickly as possible.

"I'm not going to ask again, Theo. Where the hell is Hermione? And is she okay?"

Theo watched him carefully. He, like many others, had been under the assumption that Draco had married Hermione simply to save her from Weasley, and they would be split up within a year. The look in his friend's eyes at that moment convinced him that there was more to it than that. Draco had feelings for her, whether he intended to or not. Theo rubbed his forehead slowly. He would have to proceed with caution.

"What happened in your study, Draco?"

Theo was doing everything right. He was maintaining eye contact. His voice was steady. He wasn't jittery or fidgeting. He was relaxed in his chair. To the casual observer he would look like a friend visiting a friend in the hospital and asking what had happened. He was good, very good, at making an interrogation look like a conversation. Unfortunately for him, Draco had seen him use the same technique many times in the field. It wasn't going to work on him.

"You know its funny Theo, but I don't remember a thing. Talking to my wife just might help to jar my memory though."

Theo knew immediately that Draco had seen right through him. He pushed the chair back and stood, rubbing his hand across his forehead.

"Dammit Malfoy. You're as stubborn as she is! The two of you are absolutely perfect for each other. Do you know that? As long as you can keep from killing each other, you should be looking at Happily Ever After." He paced back and forth next to the bed, trying to make up his mind. Once his decision was made he moved quickly to get a wheelchair moved over to the bed. "You want to see her? Fine. I'll take you to see her. Then you're going to talk."

Draco eyed the wheelchair for a moment before sitting up painfully and moving to sit on the edge of the bed. As irritated as Theo was, he didn't like to see his friend and co-worker injured, so he helped Draco move from the bed to the chair with limited issues. He charmed the chair to roll ahead of him. The chair turned left out of the room, rolled down the hall to the elevator and took them all up to the fifth level.

"Why is she on level five? Five is high-security risk and prisoners, right?" The chair rolled down the hall and turned right.

"Until we know what happened the other day, she is considered a high security risk." Theo watched for a response, expecting a denial, but none came.

Draco was in an observation room. One wall was one way glass. He could see into the other room, but she couldn't see them. The room was white. Very white. She was wearing a white gown and sitting on a white bed. The only splash of color in the room was her brown hair. In the lighting it looked dull, limp, and lifeless.

"You have her locked up like a common criminal!"

"She tried to kill two MLE officers! She is a common criminal!" He knew he had to push Draco if he wanted to get any information out of him at all. As he suspected, Hermione seemed to be Draco's Achilles' heel.

"What are you talking about? She never tried to kill anyone." His eyes never left her. She was sitting on the bed, staring at the blank, white wall in front of her. She didn't move much at all, she just stared forward.

"You have no idea how close to death both you and Potter were, do you? Here, look at this." He handed Draco a case folder. He spread it out on the table in front of him. There were pictures of his study, or what was left of it. It looked like a tornado had ripped through the room. One wall was completely missing. There were pictures of Draco and Harry lying mangled in the rubble. And there was a picture of Hermione, lying on the floor completely untouched from the destruction around her.

Then there were the lists of injuries. Draco's was a collection of broken bones, a punctured lung and a concussion. Potter's list was very similar.

The next page was a group of questions. They all had "no comment" written next to them.

"Can I assume you showed this file to her?" His voice was ice cold, his hand flexing into a fist as he asked the question and waited for an answer.

"Of course. SOP, you know that. Malfoy, if we had gotten there two minutes later, you would be dead right now. You and Potter both."

Draco dropped the file on the table. He knew Theo was right. But he also knew it wasn't her fault. He needed to get her out of there somehow.

"I'm going in to talk to her." He turned the chair towards the door then slowly lifted himself to his feet. The bone in his leg had healed quite a bit, but was still pretty sore when he placed his weight on it.

"What are you doing? First, you can't go in there, it's a conflict of interest. Second, you aren't supposed to be on your feet until tomorrow. You're going to re-break your leg."

"I'll be fine. I need to go convince my wife that I'm not lying in my fucking deathbed. Just stay here."

He moved slowly down the hall and opened the door leading into her room. She didn't look away from the wall she was staring at.

"You're wasting your time, Nott. I'm not telling you anything until I see Draco." Her voice conveyed no emotion. He got the feeling she had said that sentence many times in the last few days. He sat down on the edge of the bed, thankful to be off of his leg.

"Hermione."

Her head snapped toward the sound of his voice, surprised to hear Draco's voice instead of Theo's.

"Draco! You're alive!" She sat up and threw her arms around his neck. He hissed at the sudden movement, but wrapped her up in his arms anyway.

"Of course I'm alive. Why wouldn't I be?" His voice was strained, just barely, but she heard it. She let go of him and sat back a little bit.

"You're alive, but you're hurt. I'm so sorry, Draco. I swear to Merlin I never meant to hurt you or Harry, or to destroy your house. I don't even know what happened." Her eyes welled up with tears and they fell quickly. "They locked me in here and wouldn't let me see you and they told me that I might have killed you and Harry and I was going to be charged with 2 counts of attempted murder unless you died, then it would be changed to murder charges."

He pulled her into his chest and let her cry for a good long time. Theo was still watching and wondering if Draco had forgotten he was there, especially when Draco leaned down and kissed Hermione slowly and gently. He almost turned around, not wanting to intrude on a personal moment like that. He wasn't expecting the kiss to escalate from a kiss to a full on snog session but soon enough Draco was kissing his way down her neck to the opening on her nightgown. Hermione leaned her head back to give him better access and moaned in approval as his hand found the first tie.

Theo knew he had to do something or he was liable to have a front row seat to something he really didn't want to see. Draco heard the door slam in the hall and knew he only had seconds before Theo would open that door.

"Listen to me, baby. This was not your fault. I'm going to find a Healer that will be able to help you remember, okay? In the meantime, don't tell Theo anything. Understand?"

She nodded in understanding before pulling his lips back to hers. She tried to pour all of the relief she had at seeing him alive into that kiss. He did forget then, where they were, that people would be in the room any minute. All he knew in that moment was the feel of her lips against his, her skin under his fingertips. They got lost in the kiss and neither of them noticed when Theo opened the door.

"Come on, Malfoy. Do that shit on your own time."

Draco pulled away from her, only to rest his forehead against hers and try to catch his breath. Were they actually lying on the bed? When had that happened?

"Let us go home, Nott, and I'll gladly continue this on my own bed."

"I bet you would. Okay Mrs. Malfoy. You got what you wanted. You've seen Draco. You know he's okay. Now it's your turn. Why did you try to kill Malfoy and Potter?"

"Do you know a Healer named Matilda Brunswick?"

Theo looked at Draco in confusion. That seemed very random and had nothing to do with the question at hand.

"Hermione and I will talk to Matilda about what happened. In the meantime, I can assure you that Hermione did not intend to kill anyone."

Theo stared at his friend for a long moment. He really should have expected the man to pull something like this.

"Well, I guess since I have your assurance I should just let her go home, huh?" His voice dripped with sarcasm, which Draco completely ignored.

"That sounds like an excellent idea. You can bring Matilda by the house at her earliest convenience." He stood, albeit slowly, and held his hand out to Hermione.

"Sit down, Malfoy, before you fall over. I'll see if I can find her. You two, stay here." Theo slammed the door shut on his way out. After a moment he opened it again and glared at Draco. "And for Merlin's sake, keep your damn clothes on while I'm gone!"

The door slammed shut again and a lock clicked into place.


	16. Chapter 16

**{ ****Chapter Fifteen**** }**

Several hours later Draco and Hermione had been escorted to a small office on the second level of the hospital. Theo had brought Draco a pair of blue jeans and a long sleeved black pullover. He hadn't been able to find any clothes for Hermione at the house, so she was wearing one of Draco's old Slytherin quidditch t-shirts and a pair of black sweat pants that were way to big on her. She looked like a little kid swimming in the over-large clothes.

The two of them sat side by side in front of a large wooden desk and waited as the witch in front of them finished writing on her parchment and finally looked up at them. She was an older witch. She had black hair streaked with gray running down her back. Her face was kind, though, and she smiled at each of them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. I've heard many things about you. Before we get started, may I offer my congratulations on your nuptials? Yours will be a story for the ages, I am sure."

Hermione raised her eyebrow at the woman in surprise. What kind of story would they make? A fairy tale? A drama? A romance? A horror story? At this point it could be any of the above and then some.

"Thank you, Healer Brunswick." Draco wasn't sure whether or not to laugh at the woman. That seemed a bit rude, so he smiled politely instead. "I'm sure Theo has filled you in on why we're here?"

She regarded him for a moment before responding. It was obvious to her that he wanted to keep the discussion off of their relationship and on to more important matters. Like why his wife had blown up part of his house and nearly killed himself and one other man.

Matilda had reviewed all known information on Hermione prior to their appointment. She knew that Hermione was a very bright, very powerful young woman that had fought alongside Harry Potter in the war and was instrumental in the downfall of You-Know-Who.

She was also a woman that had experienced much tragedy in her young life. There were unconfirmed rumors that she had been captured and tortured during the war. She had seen many deaths and escaped death many times. Her parents had been murdered. She had married only months later to one of her best friends. Two and a half years later she was found beaten nearly to death. Three months after that she disappeared off the face of the earth. Until a week ago, when Draco Malfoy had filed to become her sponsor and brought to light the cruel circumstances she had been living under for five years.

Matilda had expected to meet a young woman that was beaten by life. Sad, depressed, introverted and shy. Instead, she found herself looking at a woman that was tired maybe, a little anxious certainly, and very much annoyed.

"I wish someone would fill me in on why we're here." Hermione muttered under her breath as she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her new husband.

"Mrs. Malfoy, there was an explosion at your home a few days ago. We're here to figure out what caused that explosion. Your husband has agreed to show us his memory of the event so that we can determine who is liable for the damage."

"I didn't try to kill Harry and Draco. I'm pretty sure I've already been clear on that." She turned her glare first to Theo, then to Matilda.

Matilda wasn't ready for it. For the dark brown eyes that penetrated her mind and made a cold chill shiver it's way down her back. There was power behind those eyes. Even more power than her research had led her to believe.

"Let's see then, shall we? Mr. Malfoy?" She motioned towards the pensieve on her desk. Draco eyed it carefully for a moment before pointing his wand at his temple and producing a thin silver strand of memory that he maneuvered carefully into the stone bowl. He took Hermione's hand and pulled her gently into the memory. Healer Brunswick and Theo followed close behind them.

Hermione found herself standing in Draco's study, listening to Harry listing off all the reasons why it was obvious there had been a secret affair going on between her and Draco at Hogwarts. She watched herself enter the room and the conversation, yelling at Harry for sticking his nose in where it didn't belong. As she watched the memory, she noticed a change in the air pressure. A slight hum filled the room. She could tell that the rest of them noticed it as well. Theo and the Healer were looking for the source of the hum. Draco was merely looking at her.

When the vase exploded in his memory and the memory of herself didn't even flinch, she knew exactly what had happened. She knew she had lost control of her magic. She could feel it building in the air around them. The explosion still shocked her and she found herself ducking her head and screaming at the shock and intensity of the explosion.

The memory faded to black as Draco had lost consciousness.

When the four of them had regained their footing and their bearings, Hermione shot Draco another death glare before smacking his arm.

"You moron! Why didn't you protect yourself better? Put up a shield? Stupify me? Anything? You didn't even try to stop me! Or to warn me, or…or…or anything!"

The room was silent as Matilda and Theo watched the couple in the middle of the room. Hermione was torn between being horrified that she had lost control so thoroughly, and being angry with Draco for letting her and getting himself hurt in the process. Draco was trying to figure out how to answer her questions, questions he didn't quite have the answers for.

"It's quite obvious, isn't it?" Matilda sat down at her desk and motioned for them to sit as well. They remained standing.

"You wanted to know, too." Hermione nodded her head in understanding as she spoke those words. He wanted to know what had happened to her at the hands of Ronald Weasley. He didn't want to stop her, because then he may never get the answers to those questions. She sank down into the chair. He sighed deeply before sitting next to her and taking her hands in his.

"Of course I want to know, Hermione. I don't want to inadvertently say something or do something or suggest something that is going to remind you of him and make you uncomfortable."

She pulled her hands away from him and stood, walking at least five steps away from him before turning back around and facing him. Her eyes were narrowed, her arms were crossed, and she looked extremely annoyed.

"I'm not a damn china doll, Draco. You've seen it firsthand, or have you forgotten? I don't break that easily."

Draco felt like she had slapped him across the face. He had seen it first hand, more than once. First at the Manor, and again when he found her in the alley during the ball. He wanted to say something, anything to let her know that he would never forget either instance, but words failed him as he watched her pace the floor and run her fingers through her hair. All eyes were on her, and everyone in the room was well aware of the distinct crackle of uncontrolled magic in the air.

"You don't have to walk on eggshells around me. If you have questions to ask me, then ask." She stopped pacing and turned to stare out the window. The things she had to say were easier if she wasn't looking him in the eye.

"The truth is, there isn't much to tell. Ron turned out to be another bully, just like the rest of them. The first year was the worst because I fought it so hard. The second year was spent doing research. It was no worse than any other woman stuck in a marriage to a man she despises. The third year was really bad emotionally. After that, things changed. I felt more like hired help than anything else. He staged my disappearance and tried to forget that I was around at all. We barely saw each other, barely spoke. He never touched me again after that night at the ball. He started sleeping with Lavender and tried to forget that I even existed. For the most part he did a damn good job at it."

Draco was running through the timeline in his head, considering the things she was saying. He rubbed his hands across his face as he tried to pick out the more important details and put them all together.

By the time she had finished the anger had died down in her voice and she had regained control of her magic. The room was silent, almost too silent, for a long moment. Finally she turned to glare at Theo, who had leaned up against the door and was watching them silently.

"I didn't try to kill Draco or Harry. Can we go home now?"

Theo looked back and forth between Draco and Hermione several times before sighing deeply and stepping aside so they could leave.

"Oh, Mrs. Malfoy. There is still the matter of controlling your magic when you are angry. I'd like to see you in the office at least twice a week for the next few weeks to see what we can do about that, okay?"

Hermione nodded politely and walked out the door. Draco stopped long enough to thank Healer Brunswick for seeing them on such short notice, then he followed her into the hallway.

They stepped out of the fireplace into what used to be the study. There wasn't a whole lot left of it. The outside wall was missing. Furniture was tossed around. Books and papers lay in shreds on the floor. Hermione gasped when she saw the destruction she had caused.

"I'll get someone over this week to fix it up. I didn't realize they hadn't already done that." Draco led her through the debris and into the hallway where the floor was clear.

"Maybe you should leave it like that, you know? As a reminder not to piss me off." She smirked at him before heading upstairs to a nice long bath.

* * *

Hermione soaked in the pool-sized bathtub for almost an hour. She let the lavender and vanilla scent soak into her skin and she tried to relax, truly she did. But her brain wouldn't stop thinking about things that she simply didn't want to think about. Finally she decided she needed a distraction. She stepped out of the bathtub determined to find something to eat, then go to the library. She could always get distracted when she was surrounded by books.

She wrapped one towel around her hair before she dried the rest of her body with a second towel. She hadn't thought to bring clean clothes into the bathroom with her, so she picked up the green Slytherin t-shirt and slipped it back on. She inhaled deeply as she pulled it past her nose. It smelled like Draco. The thought put a smile on her face.

She towel dried her hair and brushed it out carefully. Once she had brushed it all out straight she reached for her wand so she could dry it.

Her wand was not on the counter.

Confused, she tried to remember the last time she had seen it. She hadn't had it at the hospital.

A noise from Draco's bedroom caught her attention and without thinking about what she was doing, she crossed the bathroom and opened the door into his room.

"Hey Draco, have you seen my wand? I didn't…" Her voice trailed off as her brain comprehended what her eyes were seeing.

Draco was standing at the end of his bed. His shirt, shoes and socks had been discarded on the floor next to him. His jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped. Pajamas were lying on the bed. He was obviously changing for bed. He had frozen, though, when she walked in, his hands still on the waistband of his jeans.

His pale chest nearly glittered in the lighting of the room. The dark mark on his arm stood out in stark relief. She found her eyes frozen to that spot, if only because it seemed to be the safest place to look. She had the sudden urge to cross the room and lick every inch of his chest. She had taken two steps closer before she realized that she was actually moving.

Then she noticed that Draco wasn't moving, or talking, or even breathing. She tried to catch his eye, but his eyes were busy. They were roaming across her body hungrily. That's when she remembered what she was wearing. His Slytherin shirt. And nothing else.

She glanced down at herself and nearly rolled her eyes. Here he was looking like sex on legs, and she was wearing an old t-shirt that didn't even fit her. When she lifted her head again, he had crossed the room and was standing right in front of her.

"Do you have any idea how hot you look in my Team Captain shirt?"

She felt her face burning and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth to hide her smile. She shook her head back and forth and averted her eyes. He had to be wrong.

"I didn't mean to barge in like that. I should, umm, I should probably go." She stuttered out the words, but did not turn around to leave.

Draco, who was more experienced with sexual tension, smirked as he watched how flustered she was becoming. He watched her eyes as they darted across his chest, down past his waist, and then back up. He saw the exact moment when her eyes stopped, transfixed on something. Puzzled, he looked down to see what she was looking at and cursed at himself when he realized his dark mark was not concealed.

He immediately reached for his wand, but was stopped by her hand on his wrist.

"Don't." She spoke softly, but firmly. His gray eyes met hers and he found himself transfixed by the intensity he found there. "We all have scars from the war, Draco."

She slowly waved her hand across her left arm, wordlessly and wandlessly lifting the concealment charm to reveal the raised letters that would forever mark her flesh. Draco watched her every move. His eyes widened at the ugly scar on her arm. She had done an excellent job of keeping it hidden, to the point that he figured it had healed completely.

Without thinking, he reached for her arm. His fingertips glided over the letters as he vividly remembered how they had gotten there. His eyes returned to hers as he felt her fingertips on the faded Dark Mark on his own arm.

"The scars are part of who we are, Draco. They are reminders of what we've been through, but they don't define who we are. I already know your past, as much as you know mine. You don't have to hide it from me."

His eyes searched hers for a long moment. The tension in the room had changed from a pulsing sexual tension to something…more. Slowly he lifted his hand to her face, pushing her still damp hair out of the way and cupping her cheek in his hand. Then he leaned in and kissed her. Softly. Slowly. He tried to fit all of the emotion that he was feeling in that moment into that one kiss.

There was no hesitation on her part. She returned the kiss with the same emotion, though she couldn't put a name to it. All she knew for certain was that she was not close enough to him. She wanted to feel him against her, around her, inside her. She wanted to live in this moment forever. This moment, this one perfect moment, when two hearts realized that the one they had been searching for had been right there all along.

As the kiss escalated in intensity, Draco knew he would not be able to stop himself this time. When he felt Hermione's hands pushing his pants off of his waist, he knew he wouldn't have to. This was right. For both of them.

He kicked his pants off quickly, never breaking the kiss, before sweeping her into his arms and laying her on the bed. His hands glided under the hemline of her shirt, only to find that she was completely bare underneath. He groaned out loud as he lifted the shirt over her head and saw her lying naked beneath him for the first time.

He kissed her again, deeply, before moving his lips along her jaw, down her neck and across her collarbone. She moaned as his tongue circled her hardened nipple before pulling it into his mouth and sucking gently.

His fingers trailed a path down her stomach to her center, where he found her to be slick and ready for him. He pushed two fingers easily inside her, eliciting an immediate response. As he began to pump his fingers in and out, she began writhing on the bed beneath him. She was muttering nonsense, words he could barely understand as she bucked her hips into his hand.

He brought her right to the cusp of orgasm, so close she could almost taste it before he pulled his fingers out and positioned himself at her entrance. He pushed in slowly, deliberately as he covered her mouth with his and swallowed her groans of pleasure. He pulled out and pushed back in slowly a few more times without ever breaking the kiss.

Hermione had never felt this kind of passion, this kind of pleasure before. She wanted more. She needed more. She encouraged him to move faster, pushing her hips up to meet his over and over again until she was peaking, then falling. Her orgasm rushed over her, filling her with warmth and pleasure until she almost couldn't breathe. She clutched at Draco, her walls tightening around him, forcing him to release deep inside her.

They both collapsed to the bed, completely spent and drifted off to sleep before they could even cover themselves.

Draco's last thought before he drifted off was that he had had sex many times before, but what he just experienced was not merely sex. He didn't want to face his emotions, much less give a name to them, but he knew in his post-coital bliss that he had just made love to Hermione. And given the chance, he would do it again tomorrow, and the next day, and every day for the rest of their lives.


	17. Chapter 17

**{ ****Chapter Sixteen ****}**

_Three weeks later._

Draco woke with a start. His hand was automatically reaching for his wand before he was even aware of his actions. Every sense he had was tingling, telling him, warning him of some as yet unknown danger lurking in the dark. His heart thumped loudly in his ears as he strained to hear any noise that would explain the adrenaline pumping through his body.

Something was off. He could feel it. It hung in the air, thick and foreboding.

He turned to check on Hermione, only to find that she was wide awake and staring at him wtih wide eyes. She looked up at the ceiling and pointed in that direction. Whatever it was that had awakened him was upstairs in the library.

_Creek._

_Thump. Thump. Thump_.

His breath caught in his throat and his fingers tightened around his wand. Someone was in his house.

There was a small amount of moonlight filtering through the windows. It was just enough that Hermione was able to locate the t-shirt she had discarded earlier in the evening and slip it over her head silently. Draco was also able to dress quickly. He handed the flannel pajama pants that he had not gotten around to putting on earlier to Hermione and she slipped them over her bare legs.

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

They both stopped moving as the clear sounds of footsteps on the stairs echoed down the hallway. Draco moved first. He wrapped his arm around her waist and held her close.

"Where is your wand?" He whispered into her ear, barely making any sound at all.

"I don't know," she whispered back just as quietly. The sound seemed to echo through the room and she tensed, sure that whoever it was had heard her.

"Use mine. Disillusion us. Now." He forced his wand into her hand and felt the magic wash through both of them as his wand accepted her. He didn't really have time to ponder that fact right then, but he filed it away to come back for later. His wand had never accepted anyone but him. Others had tried and failed, but Hermione merely had to take it from his hand. There was something to that. He was sure of it.

She tapped him on the head with his wand and he felt the spell taking effect. She repeated the action, tapping herself on the head this time, and faded from her hair to her toes into nothingness. He gripped her hand and led them both to an empty spot against the wall, in between the bookshelf and the closet.

Then they waited.

It was only moments later when they noticed the door knob turning slowly, silently. The door inched open slowly and stopped. From their vantage point they could not see into the hallway. All they could see was the tip of a wand as it was pointed through the small gap. The wand was pointed at the bed. At Draco's bed. At the exact spot he would have been sleeping in if something hadn't woken him not five minutes earlier.

"_Petrificus totalus."_

Draco and Hermione barely heard the spell as it left the intruder's lips. It wasn't wordless as Hermione's disillusionment charm had been, but it was still spoken very quietly. The spell flashed across the room and hit it's target. If Draco had still been in bed asleep, he would be frozen to the spot at that moment, completely defenseless.

Hermione still held Draco's wand in her hand and it took every bit of self control she had not to attack. Logically she knew she couldn't. There may have been one person in the hallway or there could have been twenty people out there for all they knew. No. They would only defend themselves if they were discovered. Otherwise they would hide, and hope to both make it through the night alive.

The door swung open wider, the intruder no longer worried about the element of surprise. As far as they knew, Draco was incapacitated and hardly a threat.

More footsteps were heard in the hallway. There were at least two of them, possibly three. Another quiet creak echoed through the stillness as Hermione's door was opened slowly. She could picture it in her mind, they were taking aim at her bed much the same way they had Draco's. She expected to hear the same spell, whispered in that same barely there voice.

What they heard next, though, was not a person that was concerned with being quiet and sneaky. This was a person that didn't care how much noise he made, and really the more the better.

"_Crucio!" _His voice was rough and raw and sent a jolt of surprise through her.

Draco wrapped his arms tighter around Hermione. He couldn't see her, but he had to feel her. He had to make sure she was really there in his arms and not across the hall being tortured in her own bed.

The flash from the spell illuminated the room for only a second.

"Why isn't she screaming?" A woman's voice from the hallway. "You aren't doing it right. Do it again."

"_Crucio!"_ This time it was louder, angrier, and the flash from the spell illuminated the room enough that the intruders could see that the bed he was aiming at was empty.

"Where the hell is she?"

"Where are you, Mudblood?"

Hermione's entire body tensed. She stepped back reflexively, moving away from the voices and as close to Draco as possible. He moved with her, tightening his arms around her waist and grabbing his wand from her hand before she could drop it to the floor.

"Do you really want to play this game with me? We both know what will happen when you lose. Show yourself!"

A cold chill ran down her spine as she recognized the voice as well as the words. How many times had he issued that particular order over the years? No matter how hard she had fought it, the result was always the same. The disillusion charm would lift against her will and she would be revealed. And punished.

Draco cursed under his breath. There was no doubt in his mind that the man in the other room was Ron Weasley, even before Hermione's reaction had confirmed his suspicions.

"_Reducto!"_

The walls of the house shook as the spell hit it's target. They couldn't see the damage from where they stood, but they could hear the explosion as the closet door in the room across the hall exploded into nothing more than splinters and dust.

"We have to get out of here," Draco whispered into her ear. There were at least two intruders, possibly more, and they only had one wand between them to defend themselves. It wasn't impossible, but he wouldn't take that risk. If it were just him, then maybe. He couldn't take that chance with Hermione's life, though. He wouldn't.

"The window," she whispered quietly as she nodded her head in agreement. They moved silently across the room and slipped behind the curtains.

There was another explosion from the other room as the dresser was obliterated. Laughter rang out in the aftermath of the explosion. A man's voice, dark and dangerous but lined with humor followed.

"You really think she's hiding in the dresser? You moron. She's more likely to be across the hall bedding Malfoy than hiding in the bloody dresser."

Hermione froze, her hand on the window latch, and held her breath while Draco pointed his wand at the open closet door and wordlessly commanded "_Accio Firebolt_".

The woman across the hall laughed now. It was almost a maniacle laughter that reminded Hermione of Bellatrix LeStrange. Of course it wasn't Bellatrix. It couldn't be. She was long since dead and gone.

"Don't be ridiculous. Draco married the mudblood out of some warped sense of duty. The marriage is a farce. There is no way he would touch that...that...that filth!"

"She might be a mudblood, but she's still hot. Maybe he couldn't resist? Don't you think we should check it out?"

There was another explosion as the windows in Hermione's bedroom were blasted.

"Now. Go." Draco pushed her forward urgently. The window latch slid open easily and she stepped through onto the roof. Draco followed, ducking around the corner of the eve just as the bedroom door inside slammed open.

"Wakey, wakey, Drakey-Poo. Tell us where that filthy wife of yours is."

Draco peered through the window pane and watched unseen as four figures entered his bedroom and surrounded his empty bed. He was surprised to see that it actually looked like a person was lying under the blankets. Somehow he just knew that was Hermione's doing. She stood next to him, gripping his arm tightly.

"We need to get out of here." He tried to guide her to the waiting broom, but she wasn't moving. She was to busy staring at the shadows inside, trying to figure out their identities.

"Not yet. Give me the wand."

He stared at her incredulously. What the hell did she think she would accomplish? As soon as she fired off one spell, they would all know exactly where the two of them were hiding. It was suicide.

"No. I need to take you someplace safe and I need to get Theo and Cho as backup." He tried to tug her towards the broom, but she still wasn't budging.

"By the time you get back here they'll be gone. Give me the damn wand."

He muttered something that sounded a lot like "Damn Gryffindors" as he handed his wand over to her once again.

The first thing she did was conjur a patronus and sent it on it's way to Theo and Cho at the MLE office. Then she focused on the room beyond the window and the four people currently standing in a semi-circle around the bed. They were throwing curses at the bed, gleefully ignorant that all they were hitting was open air in the shape of a person.

The bedroom door had somehow been closed, which worked to her advantage. She silently cast a barrier charm around the doors and every window except the one she was currently looking through. The window they had passed through was still open, just a crack. She cast a bubble head charm on herself and Draco before sticking the tip of the wand through that small crack and muttering a spell.

Draco watched her in fascination. Most of the spells and charms she was using were wordless, an extremely difficult task. Beyond that, she was simply brilliant. A fine mist was emitting from the end of his wand, noticable only to him and Hermione because they knew what to look for. The four occupants of his bedroom would never notice it settling around them. It was colorless, odorless, and tasteless. And it would render them all unconscious before they even realized what was happening. The barriers she had placed against the doors and windows worked as a seal, keeping the gas inside the bedroom. He also noticed, belatedly, that a light wind was blowing into the window, pushing the gas further into the room and preventing it from escaping through the cracked opening of the window.

When the first of the four fell to their knees, a slight panic erupted inside the room. Hermione quickly cut off the spell and sealed the remaining window shut. Moments later, all four intruders were unconscious on his bedroom floor.

"That was bloody brilliant." Draco couldn't hide the fact that he was impressed. He idly wondered if she had ever thought of working for the MLE department. "So now that they're contained, can we get out of here?" Draco tugged on her arm gently as he tried to pull her towards his waiting broom. She eyed the broom with mild disgust. She would rather jump off the roof than depend on that...that stick to take her anywhere except to her death. She hated flying with a desperate passion. She always had and probably always would.

"Why? They aren't going anywere. We're safe until Theo gets here." She removed the disillusionment charm from herself and her husband before sitting down on the shingles. Draco mumbled to himself about what a stubborn witch she was before sitting down behind her.

The night air was chilly and a bit damp. Draco noticed that Hermione was rubbing her hands against her bare arms in an effort to combat the cold. He didn't even think before wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her back against his chest. He couldn't see her face, but she was smiling softly to herself as she leaned into his warmth.

"Do you suppose that everyone assumes our marriage is a sham?" He asked her thoughtfully. He stared into the night as he held her and wondered to himself why he cared what anyone else thought. Let them think whatever the hell they wanted.

A short burst of laughter escaped her lips. She had not been expecting that particular question from him.

"I would say that's probably a safe assumption." She didn't particularly care if everyone thought it was a sham. Hell, it was a sham. The only reason he had married her was because she saved his life and he owed it to her to save her life as well. It just so happened that the best way for him to save her life included marriage.

"Why would they think that, I wonder?"

"I don't know, Malfoy. I imagine they have a plethora of reasons to choose from." She tried to keep her answers light, not really sure what he was getting to.

He pushed her tangled mane of curls out of the way before resting his chin against her shoulder. An involuntary shiver ran through her body as his warm breath caressed her bare neck.

"Name one reason," he said finally.

She turned her head slightly so she could see into his eyes. She expected to find humor there, but instead only found the hint of a challenge lying in those silver depths. They stayed there for a long moment, lost in each other's eyes, before she broke contact and turned to face the night sky once again.

"How about because we hated each other throughout school."

He leaned in and kissed her neck softly.

"That doesn't count. Try again."

"What do you mean, it doesn't count?" She laughed at him as she pulled away, denying his lips access to her skin.

"It's a complete fallacy. We never hated each other. Not really." He raised his eyebrow in challenge, daring her to contradict him. She wouldn't, though. He knew now that she had never hated him.

She watched him carefully for a moment before settling back into the warmth that he provided. He was right. She had never hated him. She had thought him to be an arrogant, spoiled rotten pain in the ass, but she hadn't hated him. Harry had thought it was because she was naive and always wanted to see the good in people, even when there wasn't any good there to see. But she had known better. She had looked into his eyes and known that deep down Draco wasn't a bad person. He put on a good show, but even back then she had been almost certain that that's all it was, a show. Now she knew she had been right all along.

"Yes, well, no one else knows that, do they? The rest of the world assumes that we are what they've always seen us to be. Enemies. Opposites. They don't realize that once you take away blood status we're actually very much alike."

Draco thought about her words for a moment. He supposed she was right. Just because they had figured each other out long ago, didn't mean that anyone else had. He was about to respond to her when they heard noises coming from the bedroom. They both moved quickly to the window to see what the noise was.

Through the window they could see Theo and Cho entering the bedroom. Both were wearing bubble-head charms as Hermione's patronus had instructed them to wear. The two MLE officers stared in surprise at the four unconcious figures lying on the bedroom floor.

Theo reacted first by binding two of the figures, Cho followed suit quickly and bound the other two. Only then did they look around and see Draco and Hermione standing on the window ledge watching them.

"I figured you two would be long gone by now." Theo waited until they had bubble-head charms on before he opened the windows and let them in. The gas started slowly drifting out the windows behind them.

"We would have been, but someone just had to stay and make sure these guys didn't get away." He rolled his eyes at that. She knew perfectly well that they wouldn't have gone anywhere. Not after the stunt she pulled.

"Sorry. I've seen to many James Bond movies." Theo actually laughed at her joke while Cho and Draco just stood there looking confused. "James Bond always got captured by the bad guy, who would set some elaborate trap that would kill Bond in the end, then they would leave. Bond would inevitably figure out a way to get away and...you know what? Nevermind. Not important."

She realized she had been rambling and cut herself off before she could keep going for hours on end. She tended to ramble when she was nervous and/or anxious, and at this point she was. Nervous and anxious, that is. To find out who the attackers were that were lying on Draco's bedroom floor.

Theo seemed to read her mind because he stepped forward at the same moment and grabbed hold of the hood covering the first person's face.

"Okay, so let's see who your late night visitors were, shall we?"

Theo pulled their hoods off one by one. Two of the faces revealed did not surprise either Draco or Hermione. They had already recognized the voices of Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown. The other two, though, shocked Draco to the core. They were former classmates and friends, Gregory Goyle and Daphne Greengrass.

He stared down at them, completely dumbfounded. Goyle had a young son at home and another baby on the way. And Daphne, though spoiled rotten (as most purebloods were apt to be) had never been a mean-spirited person. She had stayed neutral during the war, as had the entire Greengrass family. Why would they attack him? Why would they attack Hermione?

He swore to himself, rather loudly, as soon as he realized he knew the answer. Goyle and Weasley had worked together for years, and Goyle had always been a bit of a follower. All Weasley would have had to do would be to plant the seeds in his mind and Goyle would have followed right along. He had always bought into the pureblood superiority bullshit and he had always hated Hermione. His friendship with Draco had come to an abrupt halt after the war, after it had become known that Draco had switched sides. Although they were still cordial to each other in passing, he couldn't really say they had been friends for a very long time.

His mother had been trying to set him up with Daphne for years, but he had been so busy and so focused on Hermione's case that he had never kept any of the dates she set up. Was Daphne acting on jealousy because she wanted him for herself? No, not him, he amended. She wanted the Malfoy name and fortune, that's all. He had never seen Daphne as a petty and selfish gold-digger before, but in one evening everything he knew about her had changed.

He found himself looking at Hermione and thanking every deity known to existence that he had found her and she had, once again, saved him from a fate worse than death...marriage to a pureblood bitch like Daphne.

**AN: I know. My posting schedule has gone completely to hell. I am still going to try to have the whole story posted by Sunday. I think I have to post a chapter every day this week to make it happen, so keep an eye out for them. And be sure to review and let me know what you think. :) I haven't replied to every review, but I swear I read them all and smile at every single one. Thank you all for reading.**


	18. Chapter 18

**{ ****Chapter Seventeen ****}**

Once Theo and Cho had left, along with their uninvited guests, Draco and Hermione sat down with warm cups of tea and stared into the fire. Both of them had so much on their minds. In the three weeks since they had returned home from St. Mungo's, there had been two more murders. Draco had been working the cases along with Harry, while Hermione had been at home or at her appointments with Healer Brunswick. They hadn't had much time to talk, and as he sat there by her side watching her twirl his wand around her fingers, he realized that he hadn't seen her wand recently.

When they had woken up and heard intruders he had asked her where her wand was and she said she didn't know. How could that be possible? He tried to think back to the last time he had seen her with it and he couldn't remember.

"Where is your wand?" he asked her again. She was startled out of her thoughts and jumped slightly in her seat.

"What?" Her eyes widened as she looked down at the wand in her hand and seemed to realize that she was holding his wand rather than her own.

"Your wand. I don't remember seeing it lately. Where is it?"

She swallowed thickly. Surely he knew where her wand was better than she did.

"Healer Brunswick won't let me have it back yet. She says I'm repressing or something and I'm a danger to myself and others until I regain control of my magic and deal with everything that happened with...well, you know." She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "You saw me tonight. Did I seem to you to be out of control and a danger to others? I don't think so."

He considered her words carefully, and had to admit she was right. She had been brilliant, and completely in control. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her closer so she could lean her head against his chest.

"I'll see what I can do. There's no reason why you shouldn't be allowed to have your wand." Idly he wondered why she hadn't told him about this weeks ago, but he supposed she had her reasons.

The following morning he paid Healer Brunswick a visit. Needless to say, he didn't like the things she had to say. In his opinion Hermione was doing fine. In her opinion Hermione hadn't even started to heal yet. In the end, though, she had reluctantly agreed to give Hermione's wand back, but she warned him to keep an eye on her.

"She's basically an emotional time-bomb. We have no way of knowing what her trigger will be, but at some point she's going to have to face these demons she has locked away in that brilliant mind of hers."

That statement hadn't exactly put his mind at ease. Not at all.

* * *

The next several weeks were a buzz of activity around the MLE offices. After the four suspects had been brought to the Ministry and formally charged word was 'leaked' to the Daily Prophet and by morning the entire wizarding population knew that Draco and Hermione Malfoy had been attacked in their home. And they knew the wizards responsible for the attack were Ron Weasley, Lavender Brown, Daphne Greengrass and Gregory Goyle.

The office was immediately swamped with anonymous tips and allegations of other crimes these four might have committed. The office was so swamped, in fact, that they had to hire someone just to catalog these references. Hermione was absolutely perfect for the job and jumped at it as soon as the Minister suggested it to her. She needed contact with the living world, and she needed a task to do to keep her hands and her mind occupied. Within three days she had streamlined their entire operation and cut the amount of paperwork that each agent had to fill out by half.

Two weeks after the attack they had enough solid evidence to charge all four of the suspects with so many crimes that none of them would see the outside of Azkaban prison for the rest of their lives. Still, Draco felt as though they were missing something. Something big. He just couldn't place his finger on it.

Draco and Harry had been out most of the day investigating another lead. This one indicated that a fifth wizard, Marcus Flint, had been seen socializing with all four of the accused within the last few months. They're job was to see if there was any evidence linking Flint to their activities. After several hours of finding absolutely nothing against Flint, they decided to call it a night and made their way back to the Ministry. Neither of them was surprised to see Hermione still in the office, despite the fact that work had ended several hours prior.

"Hey guys." She looked up from the file she was reading and gave them each a tight smile. Draco didn't know her quite well enough yet to read that smile, but Harry did. Harry knew every single expression that she wore, and exactly what they meant.

"No." Harry didn't bother to ask her any questions. Because he knew that look. And he knew that tone of voice. The one where she tries to keep her voice calm, her face impassive, so other people couldn't read her. It worked on most people, but not on him. She had some kind of crazy scheme in that over-active brain of hers. One that was probably dangerous and brilliant at the same time. It was always a bad combination that usually ended up putting her in harm's way.

Draco glanced back and forth between the two former best friends; sure that he had missed something. Hermione's eyes narrowed and she sat back in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest. Then she raised her eyebrow and stared at Potter, like she was waiting on something from him. Though Draco was tempted to say something snarky to try to figure out what the staring contest was all about, he opted to just wait it out instead. The last thing he wanted to do was piss Hermione off again. It didn't turn out to well the last time.

After a long, tense moment, Potter relented first. He sighed heavily before running both hands over his face and through his thick black hair. Then he leaned back against a desk and sighed again.

"Well go on then. Out with it." He crossed his arms in frustration at the stubborn witch and waited.

Draco was watching intently, not surprised at all that Potter had given in first for this impromptu battle of wills. He didn't miss that small smirk of triumph that graced Hermione's lips. He also didn't miss the weary sigh that followed as she uncrossed her arms and picked up a piece of parchment. She turned it over in her hands a few times, looking at the parchment rather than at either Draco or Harry.

"Does someone want to fill me in here?" Draco was already bored with the exchange. He just wanted to go home, eat something, take a shower and fall into a deep sleep. Two weeks of fifteen to twenty hour days was starting to get to him.

"Hermione has that look in her eye." Harry straightened and took a step closer to the desk where she was sitting. "She wants to do something that she knows we won't like, most likely something dangerous, and she's prepared to defend the reasons why she has to do it."

"Really Harry, have you always been this melodramatic?" She pushed back in her chair and stood up. She didn't like that he was standing over her, looking down on her. "It's not necessarily something I want to do. It's something that needs to be done. And it's not dangerous, it's just...personal."

Personal.

Draco, not for the first time, felt like an intruder in the conversation. Whatever Hermione needed, she obviously didn't want to discuss it in front of both of them. He swallowed thickly as he realized that she didn't want him there. She hadn't looked at him once since they had walked in the office. No, she wanted to talk to Potter, and he had a pretty good idea what this 'personal' issue was that she wanted to discuss.

He didn't want to say that their relationship had been strained in the last two weeks. It was more like it was completely nonexistent. They lived under the same roof and they slept in the same bed, although usually not at the same time. He was working all hours of the day and night trying to wrap up this case. She was working at the Ministry and seeing Healer Brunswick every day in an effort to control her magic. They had barely had time to speak to each other outside the occasional passing, much less anything else.

He felt anger bubbling up inside of him, but he tapped it down quickly. It wouldn't do to lose his cool now. Even so, he let some of his irritation show through as he stomped over to his desk to drop his notes in the drawer and grab his good cloak.

"Draco? What are you doing?" Hermione watched him from across the room with sad, almost scared eyes. His gaze locked on hers, and the emotion he saw in there almost melted away his anger. Something was bothering her terribly.

But she didn't want to speak to him about it. She wanted to speak to Potter.

"I'm dead tired. I'm going home and going to bed." In four long strides he was passing her desk and heading for the door. He could see the surprise on her face. Hell, she almost looked heartbroken. It almost made him pause as he walked by her. He didn't trust himself, though. He was sleep deprived, hungry, and all around in a bad mood to begin with, throw this irrational anger that he was feeling on top of it all and he was worried he would say or do something he might regret. Like hex his partner, Potter, for talking to his wife about her 'personal' problems.

"Seriously? But I really needed to..." The door closed behind him. She stood there, staring at the door for a moment before she finished in a much quieter voice "...talk to you."

Draco had heard her, just barely. She had wanted to talk to him, and he had just walked away from her. He banged his head against the stone wall once before turning back around and preparing to walk back into the office. He had his hand on the door handle when he heard her talking to Potter again.

"This is all your fault, you know." He couldn't see her through the door, but he could imagine her standing with one hip jutted out to the side, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes narrowed and glaring at Potter.

"What did I do?"

"You scared him off! I've been trying to find time to talk to him for days. Days, Harry! Ugh!" He vaguely remembered her saying something about needing to talk to him at breakfast yesterday. Or was it the day before? Fuck. He couldn't remember.

"What's so important, then 'Mione? Maybe it's something I can help you with."

"I said its personal, Harry! That was supposed to be your hint to clear out so I could talk to my husband." She sat down heavily in her chair and put her head in her hands. Maybe she could wake him up when she got home. Or if she hurried she might be able to catch him before he fell asleep at all. She reached for her bag and her cloak.

"Oh Merlin, Hermione. Are you pregnant?"

Draco's eyes snapped open and he felt his heart skip a beat. Surely she wasn't. They'd only been together a few times. He tried to remember if they had used a contraceptive charm. His mind was drawing a blank. He involuntarily held his breath as he waited for her to answer Potter's intrusive question.

"I seriously doubt it, Harry." Her voice was strained as the unexpected question hit her a little harder than she would have thought it should. She wasn't pregnant. She was positive of that.

Draco heard the strain in her voice. Though he didn't know what it meant, he knew it was time to stop eavesdropping and figure out what the hell was so important she had been waiting for him hours after her shift was over. And maybe, just maybe, he didn't want to stand there any longer because he just might have to acknowledge that the twinge he felt when she denied the allegation felt something like disappointment.

He pushed the door open and stepped in the office. His eyes immediately locked on Hermione's. Her big brown orbs filled with something like relief when she looked at him and her lips tilted up in a small smile. In his mind he imagined what she would look like, pregnant with his child. His heart skipped a beat.

He had been so busy the last two weeks that he hadn't spent any time with her at all. In fact, this was probably the first time they had even really looked at each other in weeks. He heard Potter mutter something about going home before he brushed past and disappeared out the door. Draco wasn't paying attention, though. He was transfixed by the woman in front of him.

The atmosphere in the office had changed as soon as their eyes locked together. Sexual tension radiated between them. In that moment, he wanted her. In that moment, she wanted him. Everything else, the job, the case, the parchment, it all just disappeared.

"I thought you went home." Her voice wavered slightly. She took two small steps in his direction.

"I was going to, but I realized I forgot something." He took two larger steps, bringing him close enough that he could reach out and touch her.

"What did you forget?" She was almost smiling now as she took another step closer and placed her hands on his chest. His hands wrapped around her waist and she nearly moaned at that contact. He hadn't touched her, really touched her since the night of the attack.

Energy simmered through his body, starting at his fingertips and spreading up his arms and into his chest as he pulled her closer. He didn't answer her question. He was too lost in her eyes and in the sensations of holding her again to formulate a thought. One second he was gazing down at her, and the next he was devouring her. His lips met hers hungrily and she returned the kiss with fervor.

His lips moved against hers with increasing intensity. Merlin, how he had missed tasting her like this! When was the last time they had kissed? A small peck here and there in passing didn't really count. Not in his mind anyway.

He found himself wanting to do much more than just kiss her. By the way she moaned as his hand slipped under her shirt to caress her breast, he knew that she wouldn't object. But this was his wife, not some cheap floozy. He could wait until they got home to fuck her senseless.

Begrudgingly he removed his hand from under heir shirt and slowed the kiss down. He pulled away slowly and leaned his forehead against hers as they both tried to catch their breath.

"Are you ready to go home?" His voice was filled with lust. She shivered at the promise that was hidden in those words. The promise of continuing what they had started once they got there.

She nodded in agreement and turned to collect her belongings. As she did, she noticed the piece of parchment that she had been holding earlier.

"Fuck. I'm sorry, Draco, but there really is something I need to talk to you about."

"Later," he growled. "It can wait until later." His hand circled her wrist and tugged her gently towards the door. She followed along hesitantly, knowing that it really couldn't wait much longer. Her mind was fighting a losing battle, though. The desire that he had awoken coursed through her body. The heat filled her, pulsating with a need she had never felt before.

So she didn't fight him as they walked down the hallway towards the lifts, but as her mind began to clear she realized that she really did need to tell him what was on her mind. The lift doors opened immediately and they stepped inside. She was just about to tell him that what she needed to talk to him about really was important. All rational thought left her, though, as he pushed her against the wall and kissed her again.

He was right. It could wait.

When the lift door opened, Hermione pushed him away, breaking the heated kiss before grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the floo. He growled at the disruption but reminded himself that he could wait until they got home.

Home. Their house. Because this beautiful, vivacious, sexy woman was all his. And it seemed she was in just as much a hurry to get home as he was.

They stepped through the floo into the study. He cleaned the dust off of them with a flick of his wand, closed the floo down for the night with another flick, and then pulled Hermione in for another searing kiss. His hands explored her body while her fingers worked on the buttons of his shirt. It seemed they both wanted to do this at home, but it didn't matter to either one of them where exactly they were at home. The bedroom just seemed like it was much too far away.

Piece by piece their clothing was discarded. Most of it landed on the floor. Hermione's silk blouse. Draco's trousers. Her bra was tossed to the side and somehow landed on the credenza.

His lips trailed down her neck leaving wet kisses from her ear to her breast. His hands trailed down her bare back to ass, just barely caressing her skin and sending waves of heat throughout her body. She moaned and arched her back as he sucked her nipple into his mouth. His hands curled around her legs and lifted her easily onto his desk before his fingers delved into her wet heat.

He moaned deeply when he found how wet and ready she was for him. His lips returned to her mouth, one hand tangled in her dark curls and held her closer, the other hand pressing in and out of her heat steadily. She writhed against his hand, wanting more. Needing more.

He wanted to take his time with her, to go down on her and worship her body with his tongue. For now, though, he just needed to be inside her. He pulled her to the edge of the desk and pushed her gently so she was lying on her back. Then he lifted one leg up over his shoulder and pushed inside of her in one quick motion.

She gasped out loud at the sudden intrusion then moaned loudly as the sensations filled her up. He pulled out and pushed back in again. And again. And again.

Sounds of sex filled the study and echoed through the empty halls of the house. Skin slapping together. Feminine moans of pleasure. Male grunts of exertion. His name,"Draco" screamed in ecstasy as she came. Various expletives right before he came, followed by a breathy "fucking hell, Hermione" as he fought the impulse to collapse on top of her.

As their breathing slowed down and the haze of lust began to dissipate, Draco came to a stark realization.

"You know, I'll never be able to work at this desk again without picturing you like this." He lifted her up so she was again sitting on the edge of his desk.

"Like what?" She trailed her arms up his bare chest to rest on his shoulders, her hands playing with the fine hairs at the base of his neck.

"Naked and beautiful and thoroughly fucked." He smirked down at her briefly before bending and kissing her once more, slowly, gently. Reluctantly he ended the kiss and stepped away from the desk. He slipped his trousers back on and turned to see Hermione buttoning up his shirt. It looked better on her anyway.

"I don't know about you, but I'm starving." She didn't bother putting on the rest of her clothes before she headed to the kitchen to find something to eat. He watched her go and honestly debated if he would rather eat or just go to bed. Their recent activity had only increased his exhaustion. Not that he was complaining or anything.

His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast, so he followed her to the kitchen. She was warming up some roast and potatoes when he walked up behind her and put his arms around her waist. She melted into his touch, leaning into his chest. His hands spread across her stomach as he held her and he was reminded of her earlier conversation with Potter.

He realized with a small thrill that they had once again had sex without using a contraceptive spell. The thought didn't scare him. It did, in fact, excite him.

Hermione pulled away from him when the food was ready so she could prepare the plates and set them on the small kitchen table. They sat down to eat in silence, both having things on their minds and not sure how to broach the topic.

"There really is something I need to talk to you about, Draco. Before you go to sleep tonight."

He looked up from his potatoes to see that she was nervous again.

"Talk. I'm listening."

She nodded her head once and continued to pick at the food on her plate. He waited patiently for her to say whatever it was that was on her mind.

"Sara has someone that wants to look at my old house. I took a lot of things with me when I left, but there is still a lot of stuff in the house that needs to be packed up and cleaned. I, um...the thing is that I really don't want to go alone. I know how busy you've been with the case and everything and its horrible timing. If you can't go, I understand and I'll do it myself, but, well, you know."

He knew. She wanted him to be there with her. That house held nothing but bad memories for her, but she needed to go clean it out.

"When?" He knew that it didn't matter. He would be there for her.

"She wants to show it on Saturday." She bit her lip and waited for his reaction. It really had been important that she talk to him days ago. She had told him that, right?

"Hermione, today is Thursday." He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. As if he didn't have enough on his plate, now he had thirty six hours to clean out an entire house. "I guess we're not going to work tomorrow. I'll owl the Minister and Potter so they know not to expect us."

Relief flared through her eyes. She really didn't want to face that house alone. It held bad memories, that was true, but there was something else. A sense of foreboding that washed through her every time she thought of going back there.

She shook off the feeling when she took her shower and crawled into bed next to Draco.

When he kissed her, she forgot she had even had the bad feeling at all.

When he made love to her she forgot everything but him and the way her body responded to him, so naturally.

So perfect.

And when she fell asleep against his chest she felt like she was finally home.


	19. Chapter 19

**{ ****Chapter Eighteen ****}**

Hermione was nervous. Oh, she hid it well enough. Someone that didn't know her well probably wouldn't be able to tell. She had that same confident air that she always had about her. Underneath that, if a person bothered to look, there was a deep-seeded anxiety coursing through her body. Draco could see it in the way she chewed on her bottom lip. The way her right leg was bouncing up and down in a fast rhythm. The way the fingers of her right hand occasionally picked at the fingernails on her left hand.

He thought back to the meeting with Healer Brunswick weeks days ago. The older witch had been concerned about Hermione. Even though she had been able to control her anger and her magic since the explosion, the Healer was concerned that she has yet to deal with the events of her past on an emotional level.

"_She's basically an emotional time-bomb. We have no way of knowing what her trigger will be, but at some point she's going to have to face these demons she has locked away in that brilliant mind of hers." _

That conversation was the reason that he hadn't put up a fight when she told him she needed to go clean out her old house and she wanted him to go with her. Did he have a million other things he needed to be doing that morning? Yes, yes he did. But he wasn't going to send her into that house alone. He would be willing to bet all the gold in his Gringott's vault that if a trigger existed for her, it would be in that house. If her emotional time-bomb were to detonate today, he wasn't going to let her face it alone.

They didn't talk much as Draco ate his breakfast and Hermione picked at hers. They were both lost in their own thoughts, both dreading the trip to her old house for the exact same reasons. When the breakfast plates had been cleared they silently stood from the table together and made their way to the floo in the study.

They entered the sitting room of her former home together, both of them dusting themselves off as they glanced wearily around the room. It appeared to be exactly as it was months earlier when they had last been there. Everything was still spotless, sterile almost. Draco was automatically alert. After several weeks of being empty, he would have expected at least a fine layer of dust on the tabletops by now. He wiped his finger across the table just to be sure, and it came up clean.

Hermione saw him investigating the furniture and allowed herself a small smirk.

"Who needs house-elves when a simple cleaning charm set to repeat every twelve hours does the trick just as well?" She ran her hand across the mantle to emphasize her point. "I suppose I'll need to cancel that charm before we leave today."

"You are absolutely brilliant, did you know that?" Draco laughed. He remembered the first time he had been to her house he had noted that she must have spent hours cleaning. Leave it to his witch to find a way to automate the process.

"I've heard that a time or two."

The house itself was eerily quiet. Silence buzzed through the place in an almost deafening roar. Hermione stood in the middle of the sitting room and closed her eyes as she took a deep breath. She listened to the house and she grounded herself. This wouldn't be an easy task, but if she never got started she would never finish it. And Merlin she wanted to be finished with it. One more deep breath and she opened her eyes, finding Draco about three feet away from her, watching, waiting for her to make a move.

"Right then. I'm going to sell the house furnished. I don't need the furniture anyway and they can dispose of whatever they don't want. It really shouldn't take long to pack up the kitchen and bedroom. There isn't much left."

"So let's get started then." He let her lead the way into the kitchen first.

As they boxed items up, they sorted them into three stacks; donations, keep, and trash. All of the non-perishable food items, the dishes, pots and pans, and clothing that had been left behind went into the donation stack. The rest of Hermione's books, pictures and decorations went into the 'keep' stack. The perishable food items and a few other odds and ends that she couldn't see keeping but really didn't think anyone else would want them either, went into the 'trash' stack.

The process went quickly and by eleven o'clock they had entered the last room in the house, the spare bedroom. Draco was starting to think that he had worried over nothing. If Hermione had a 'trigger', this house certainly wasn't it. She had barely batted an eyelash all day long.

In the closet of the spare bedroom they found a few boxes of holiday decorations.

"Finally! I hoped they would be here somewhere." She opened the top box and her face lit up as she looked at the glass ornaments and sparkling angel figurine. Really, you would think she was looking at a box of diamonds and jewels the way her eyes sparkled and mouth tipped up in a smile.

"You know I can buy you a thousand of these glass bulbs that have real diamonds on them instead of cheap glitter." He was teasing her. Her smile widened and he knew that she knew he was only joking. He exhaled quickly in relief. Some people would have taken that statement as him being pompous. Not that it wasn't true or anything. He could afford to buy her any decorations that she wanted. He had a feeling, though, that the only ones she truly wanted were the ones in those two plastic cases.

"These were my parents'. Every year they would buy a new set of bulbs to go with their collection, and one special ornament to commemorate the year. I don't have many of their belongings left, but I'm so glad to see these are still here. Deep down I figured _he_ threw them out or something. I haven't even seen them in years."

She looked through the boxes for a few more minutes. Each new item she picked up from the box brought a small smile to her lips. Finally she closed the boxes and added them to the 'keep' stack.

With a deep sigh, she sat down on the small loveseat in the corner. She had made it through the whole house, but somehow she felt like she was missing something. She stared at the wall across the room, trying to figure out what she had missed. The idea of it was tickling the back of her brain, but didn't seem to want to come to the surface.

Draco sat down next to her and put his arm around her shoulders. He watched her for a long moment. Her brows crinkled in concentration, her head tilted to the left, then to the right. He couldn't figure out exactly what she was doing, but he knew she was damn cute while she did it.

"What, exactly, are you doing, love?"

Her brow furrowed in concentration once again and she shook her head in frustration.

"We're missing something."

He raised an eyebrow and waited for her to continue. They couldn't have missed anything. They had been through the whole house.

Once she said it out loud she realized that it wasn't something they were missing, but someplace. There was some _place_ they hadn't checked yet. Mentally she ran through the locations in the house. Basement, check. Kitchen, check. Dining room, sitting room, master bedroom, master bath, guest room, office, half bath, attic.

She snapped her fingers as it came to her.

"That's it! The attic. We didn't go in the attic."

Draco realized that she was right. He hadn't even seen an attic door while they were cleaning. He had just assumed the house didn't have an attic at all.

"Where's the doorway? I don't remember seeing it anywhere."

"It's in the spare bedroom." She answered quickly, not even thinking about it as she answered. This had been her house before she married Ron. Even though after they were married Ron had forbidden her from going into the attic, she still remembered that there was an attic and the access door was in the spare bedroom.

"Hermione, we're in the spare bedroom. I don't see a door anywhere." Draco stood and looked around the room, but without any luck.

"That's not right. I would have sworn the door to the attic was in this room." She looked at the wall again and suddenly they both understood what was going on. There was a shielding charm to hide the door from view, and a compulsion charm to keep prying eyes away. Draco raised his wand and uttered the counter charms. The wall they had been looking at dissolved and in its place was a different wall with a door in the right hand corner.

The door stood before them, daunting. Hermione felt the same sense of foreboding that she had the night before and felt a cold shiver run down her spine. She involuntarily wrapped her arms around herself.

Draco ran a series of spells designed to check for curses on or around the door. It came up clean, but he was still leery of opening it. He didn't have a good feeling about it. Something close to dread was settling in the pit of his stomach. This door had been hidden for a reason. He was almost afraid to open it now that he knew what kind of person Ron Weasley truly was.

"I don't suppose that's where he kept his porn collection," he joked, trying to crack through the suspenseful atmosphere that had filled the room.

"I have no idea what's up there. I haven't been since before Ron and I were married." She was worried, but still she stepped forward and opened the door.

"Wait." He stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. "Let me go up first."

She turned to look at him and their eyes met. As she looked into the silver depths, she saw concern there, right under the surface. She wanted to tell him that she could take care of herself, but deep down she wanted him to be concerned. She wanted him to take care of her. So she nodded her agreement and stepped back so he could lead the way.

The staircase was dark and narrow. It opened to a large room that was about seven feet tall down the center. The ceiling sloped down on both sides to meet the walls about five feet off the floor. On the right side of the room there were two windows set into dormers that let in enough sunlight to brighten the room.

The room itself was sparsely furnished. A few chairs were set up in a circle around a round table at the far end of the room. A long table set along the left hand wall with stacks of parchment and a couple of shoebox sized boxes on top. A bulletin board set on the back edge of the table and leaned against the sloping ceiling. It was full from edge to edge of pictures and parchment hung with colorful push pins.

Draco stepped into the room slowly, his eyes automatically drawn to the bulletin board and the pictures that were on display. The board was split into five sections. Each section held various pictures and parchment.

His breath caught in his throat when he realized that he recognized the women in the photographs. All of them.

Mariska. Juilianna. Sarah. Victoria. Lauren.

He had been working their murder cases for over two years. He knew their files inside and out. He knew everything he could possibly know about these women. Everything except for one very important detail – who had murdered them? Until this moment, he didn't have any idea.

He studied the pictures that were hanging on the board. Some of the photographs were directly from their case files. The others seemed to be surveillance photos, taken by someone that was following these women. There were pictures of them in their homes, out and about in Diagon Alley, or having tea with family members or friends. Personal, intimate moments in their lives that had been stolen and put on display. There were other pictures as well. Graphic, humiliating pictures of these women. Pictures that made his stomach churn and his blood boil.

"Oh, Merlin!"

He turned quickly when she gasped, not even aware that she had followed him into the room and was standing next to him, looking at the same pictures he was looking at. Drawing the same conclusions that he was drawing.

"What is this?" Her voice was barely a whisper. He wasn't even sure if she was talking to him or to herself. Her hand lifted up slowly and her fingertips skimmed across the photographs on the board. "Who are these women?"

Draco was surprised when she asked that question. He had been so tied up in the case that he thought everyone knew about these murders.

"Victims," he stated. "They're all murder victims."

He watched her carefully and saw the exact moment when she made the connection. She had heard about the case, but she hadn't seen the files. She hadn't read the newspapers. She didn't know who the victims were, until now.

She turned back to the bulletin board and pulled a random piece of parchment out of one of the sections. It was the coroner's report for Sarah MacMillan.

_Victim was severely beaten and raped before her wrists were slit open and she bled to death._

_Evidence of an Imperious curse being present at the time of death._

Hermione's hand covered her mouth as she read the words. Then she put the report back on the table and examined the reports for the other four women. They were all the same. Beaten. Raped. Imperioused. Killed.

Draco watched her as she examined the other items on the board. She shook her head, mumbled to herself, ran her fingers through her hair, chewed on her lip. All the things that he knew meant she was concentrating on the puzzle, putting the pieces together and coming up with a solution. He had always loved watching her work. Even at Hogwart's, she had fascinated him.

He wondered, though, if this was one puzzle she should be trying to figure out. It was awfully close to home for her. He probably needed to get her out of there and collect Potter and Theo to help him bag up this evidence.

"Hermione. Love, we should go." He put his arm around her shoulders and tried to move her towards the door. She shrugged him off, completely ignoring him.

"He was following them. For weeks, he would follow her, learn her schedule, and learn her husband's schedule. Look." She pointed to a list on a parchment that Draco hadn't even noticed earlier. She was right. It was a list of dates, times, places. "He watched, and he waited until the perfect time to strike. He would have approached her while she was out somewhere and cast the Imperious curse, probably weeks ahead of time."

"Why weeks ahead of time?" She had his attention now. He had also come to the conclusion that the Imperious curse had been used to gain access into the houses of the victims, but he had always assumed it was cast right before the murder.

"Look at these pictures. They were taken over a period of time. See? Her clothes change from one picture to the next. These pictures were taken inside her home, so she had to have been imperioused at least several days before she was killed. Who knows? He could have terrorized these poor women for weeks or even months before he decided to kill them."

Draco was surveying the photographs, noting that she was right about the time lapse when he noticed she had stopped talking. He turned to see that she was still standing next to him, but her face had drained of all color. Both her hands were covering her mouth and she was shaking her head back and forth slowly.

Her eyes. Merlin, her eyes! They were wide and sad and terrified and horrified all at the same time.

"Hermione?" He glanced back at the board, wondering if there was something he had missed that would put that look in her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?! Are you serious? Look! Look at this!" Her voice was nearly hysterical as she motioned to the board in front of them. "**This** is what's wrong!"

"These women…they were…they didn't have a choice, Draco. They couldn't even fight back. They were helpless." Her eyes glittered with unshed tears and her hands shook. She turned her back to him. She didn't want him to see her fall apart and that's exactly what she felt like she was doing. She felt like she was on the edge of a precipice, so ready to tumble off at any moment.

She tried to take a few deep breaths. She ran her fingers through her hair and swiped at the tears in her eyes. Draco watched as she rebuilt the walls. Her face became impassive, stony once again.

_At some point she's going to have to face these demons she has locked away in that brilliant mind of hers._

The Healer's words echoed through his mind as he watched her shutting down in front of him. Did she realize that these five women, these murder victims, were not the only ones that had been helpless against this man?

He looked up at the board again and with a sickening feeling in his gut he realized it was the same. The curse to take away her free will. The abuse. The rape. The only difference was that he had murdered five of his victims, and one of them had survived.

He tried to think of anything but that. He didn't want to think of Hermione being that helpless, even though he knew that she had been for a long time. His eyes landed on a small box that was sitting on the corner of the table. He checked the box for curses before lifting the lid.

Her eyes followed his movements. She saw what was in the box at the same moment that he did.

Hermione was no stranger to humiliation. She had lived it for five years. She was no stranger to feeling vulnerable or violated either. It had been a way of life for her. Now that she was away from all of that, though, to suddenly feel it all over again was like being kicked in the stomach. She felt like she might throw up.

The box was full of photographs. Photographs of her. She didn't have to look through them. She knew what they were. Ron always did like to take pictures. The more he had to drink, the more graphic the pictures would be.

Draco reached into the box and picked up a handful of the pictures before she registered what he was doing. As soon as he looked at the first image, though, he regretted it. It was an image of Hermione. She was wearing nothing but scraps of lace that had once been a negligee. Her creamy white skin was darkened with various bruises on her face and arms. She was lying on a bed with her arms pulled out to the sides, her legs stretched open. Her eyes stared into the camera, dull, lifeless, and resigned.

His stomach clenched tightly at the sight in front of him. He glanced at a few more of the pictures and knew that they were all the same. In some of the pictures she was posed indecently or performing sexual acts. In others she was showering or sleeping. In all of them she was vulnerable, helpless.

With a sickening clarity he knew that in his hands he held the answers to their questions. The answers that she didn't want them to have. The proof of the hell she had lived through at the hands of Ronald Weasley.

She saw him looking through the pictures. She saw the images that he saw and memories flooded through her mind. Memories that she had locked away for years and never intended to remember again. Merlin, how had she ever allowed herself to become so weak? That wasn't who she was. Hermione Granger was a fighter. Independent, brilliant, brave. She didn't want to face what she had been reduced to. She didn't want to remember any of it.

It wasn't real.

It hadn't happened to her.

It couldn't have happened to her.

She wouldn't have let it happen to her.

Except, it did happen to her.

She was the woman in those pictures.

She was the woman that had been victimized for years by this man.

Beaten.

Raped.

Humiliated.

Mind fucked.

Enslaved.

A cold shiver passed down her spine and suddenly she felt as though she couldn't breathe. A gasping breath ripped through her as the reality of it all hit her full force.

Draco dropped the pictures back in the box when he heard her fighting for air. He turned quickly, just in time to see the walls she had carefully constructed come crumbling down right before his eyes.

In a heartbeat his arms were around her and she was sobbing into his shoulder. She grabbed hold of him and clung to him like a life raft in the middle of a storm. The tears came, huge, sobbing tears that wracked her body and her mind. She cried. She screamed. She yelled and she cursed.

She mourned for the loss of her innocence. She grieved for the loss of five years of her life. And she finally let herself remember the horrors that she had lived through.

For hours the tears fell and he held her. He was her rock, her safe harbor, the lighthouse on the craggy shore that lit her way to safety.

The tears slowed down as the sun began to fade into the horizon. She took a couple of deep breaths and leaned away from his chest so she could look into his eyes. What she saw there nearly broke her heart. His beautiful silver eyes were swimming in pools of tears. A few of the tears had escaped and left dried tracks on his cheeks.

She wiped the tears away gently and kissed him softly on the forehead. There were so many things that she wanted to tell him in that moment. She wanted to thank him for letting her cry on his shoulder for hours, or for the sweet words of encouragement that he whispered in her ear. She wanted to remind him that she wouldn't have survived without him. She wanted to lie to him, tell him it wasn't so bad after all.

She couldn't tell him any of those things, though. As she looked into his tear-filled eyes, she realized something she had never quite realized before. It made her breath catch in her throat and her heart race in her chest. All other thoughts disappeared as she recognized this one fact.

He hadn't saved her because of the token. He hadn't risked his family name and fortune because of a life-debt. She didn't know when, or why, or how, but she knew without a doubt that he had done it all for one simple, unbelievable reason. Draco Malfoy was in love with her.

He saw it in her eyes. The moment she realized what he hadn't had the courage to tell her. Understanding, followed by acceptance.

His lips met hers only moments later in a slow, gentle kiss that tasted of salt and tears, but promised sweet smiles and a lifetime of happy memories.

**AN: Just so you all know, this is my favorite chapter of the story. It gave me cold chills when I re-read it. :) What did you guys think?  
**


	20. Chapter 20

**{ ****Chapter Nineteen ****}**

Following their discovery, new charges were brought against Ron. Draco and Harry spent weeks gathering all the evidence and preparing to present the case before the Wizengamot. The hearing went seamlessly. In the end, the decision of guilty was unanimous. The sentence was the Dementor's kiss.

Two weeks before Christmas Draco and Hermione sat together in the round court room. Harry and Luna were there, as well as Arthur and Molly Weasley. They all sat silent as they watched.

Harry still couldn't understand what had went so wrong. When had his best friend, one third of the Golden Trio that had saved the wizarding world from Voldemort and Death Eaters, become so evil? Was it so gradual that no one noticed? Or was he possessed or something? It wasn't the first time that Harry had thought of that possibility. It certainly would explain it. Ron wasn't in his right mind and hadn't been for years, not since the end of the war.

He thought about saying something, just to raise the question of the possibility that Ron had been possessed. Then he turned his head and saw Hermione. His other best friend. The other third of the Golden Trio. She had lived through so much. She had survived so much at the hands of the man in question. Still she was here, sitting next to Draco, his hand wrapped tightly around hers. Her back was straight, her eyes unwavering as she glared at the red-headed man in front of them. Her strength and resilience was evident to anyone that saw her.

Harry knew, though. He knew how close she had come to being lost to them forever.

He remembered the evidence that he, Draco and Theo had sorted through. The pictures and the notes that were written on the back of them, clearly in Ron's scrawling handwriting. The memory sent a cold shiver down his back and he let his gaze return to the man that he used to call his best friend. In that moment he knew that it didn't matter. The black soul that had committed numerous heinous crimes was about to be eaten by Dementors, never to return again. Whether that soul belonged to Ron, or to some other dark entity (Voldemort?), it really didn't matter. So he didn't say anything about his suspicion. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, put his arm around Luna and watched justice be served.

When the Dementor's were finished, the small crowd stood and walked quietly towards the exit. Harry followed Luna, his hand resting on the small of her back as she walked down the row of seats to the aisle. As they turned into the aisle and started towards the door, he was surprised to feel a small hand on his arm. He turned to see Hermione standing next to him. Her brown eyes were misty as she looked up at him, and she hesitated only a moment before throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a hug.

Merlin, it had been ages since she had hugged him.

He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly, the way he wish he could have done all along. After a long moment, or two or three, Hermione pulled away from him and took a shuddering breath. She chewed on her lower lip for a minute before she seemed to make up her mind.

"If you want to come back to our house, I'll answer any questions you might still have." She glanced at Draco quickly, not sure what he would make of her invitation. He just raised his brow at her and waited for Harry to answer.

"Luna, you're welcome to come as well," she added as an afterthought when she noticed the blonde was staring at them. Or through them. With Luna, you never could really tell.

"Oh, that's okay Hermione. I really should be getting back to the Quibbler. The place falls apart without me." She smiled sweetly and squeezed Harry's hand before making her exit.

Harry was still surprised by Hermione's invitation. Part of him had a ton of questions that hadn't been answered yet, but another part wondered if it was really a good idea for her to be talking about it. He had seen the pictures, he had a pretty good idea as to what she had been through. He didn't really need to make her relive it all over again.

"It's okay, Harry. I won't blow the house up or anything. I promise." She smiled a small smile that only got wider when she heard Draco chuckle behind her.

Harry still wasn't sure, even though his lips involuntarily turned up at her unexpected joke. He looked between her and Draco a couple of times, trying to figure out if he should take her up on the offer or not.

"Look, you both still have questions. I'm ready to talk about it, but I only want to do it once. So this is your chance. Come, don't come, it's up to you. But I won't offer again." She sensed his hesitation, but she also knew his curiosity only to well. He wouldn't be able to resist if he knew it was a one-time offer.

"Very well. Lead the way." He stepped back so she and Draco could walk ahead of him to the floo. As they walked the halls of the Ministry, he tried to focus on the questions that he wanted to ask, the questions that he needed answered. By the time they arrived in Draco's study, his mind had come up blank.

Draco poured each of them a glass of firewhiskey. Hermione sat in the chair. Her back was stiff, her hands rested on her knees, and her knee bounced up and down quickly with her nerves. Draco and Harry sat on the couch across from her, their stances nearly mirroring her own.

The room was quiet for a long time. They were all lost in their thoughts, not sure where to start. Draco was pouring them each a second glass before any of them spoke.

"Well, this was easier than I thought it would be." Hermione shifted back in her seat in a relaxed position, crossing one leg over the other and letting her arms lie across the armrests. Her fingers tapped along the fabric in a slow rhythm. "Draco, ask me something. Anything."

He sat back as well and took a long drink from his glass. He wasn't sure where to start. Unlike Harry, he had at least fifty questions already floating around in his brain.

"Might as well start from the beginning, yeah?" he muttered to himself. Then he directed his silver eyes at her and launched into his first question. "When did you figure out you had been cursed?"

She raised her eyebrow, took a drink, and sat forward in her chair again.

"The day after. I woke up early, took a shower, fixed my hair and make up, then went in the kitchen to start breakfast. The thing is, I was doing all of this without any conscious thought. It felt kind of like sleep-walking. I was going through the motions, but I didn't have control over the motions I was going through. I knew something was wrong, different, but I didn't know what.

"When he came in for breakfast..." She hesitated. Her knee started bouncing again and she averted her eyes so she was staring at the oh-so-interesting carpet instead of at the two men on the couch. "He...well, he told me to take my clothes off. And I did. I was horrified. There I was, in our kitchen, with the blinds open, stripping off my clothes. I tried to stop myself. I tried to fight it, but it didn't matter what I did. It was like my body had a mind of it's own.

"He started laughing at me. He stood right behind me, put his hands on my waist and he whispered in my ear. '_There's no point in fighting it, Mione. You belong to me now._'" She shivered as she remembered him saying those very words. She still remembered the way her heart had dropped in her chest, the way her breath had caught in her throat. She didn't tell them that his next words were '_Now make yourself useful and suck my cock_.'

She took another drink from her glass, took a deep breath and steeled herself before looking at them again. They both seemed to realize she was finished with that question and ready to move on.

"How did you do it?" Harry had been trying to think of questions for her, and that was the only one he could come up with.

"How did I do what?" Hermione raised her eyebrow at him in question.

"I know you pretty well, right? You're all about equality and being in control of your own destiny. You were thrown into a situation where you had no control whatsoever, even over your own actions, right? Even without the physical abuse, that in itself would have been a living hell for you. And you did it for five years. How?"

She watched him carefully for a long minute. She knew exactly what he was asking, and she knew the answer to his question. She just wasn't sure how he would take what she had to say. He would either think it was brilliant, or he would suggest psychiatric care. Draco was looking at her expectantly, obviously as interested in her answer as Harry was.

"Okay," she nodded her head, more to herself than to them. "I knew I needed to protect myself. Not my physical body, because I didn't have any control over that, but my mind. My soul. The essence of who I am. I had to protect that, or I wouldn't have a chance of finding a solution. Have you ever heard of a muggle condition called Dissociative Identity Disorder or Multiple Personality Disorder?"

Harry's brow scrunched in confusion. He had heard of it, but wasn't sure where she was going with her explanation.

"What is that?" Draco had never heard the term before.

"It's a mental condition where a person has a dominant personality, and one or more other personalities. When the dominant personality is threatened, it retreats and one of the other personalities takes over. It's like a defense mechanism."

"So what? You gave yourself multiple personalities?" Harry scoffed at her and she smirked in return.

"Not exactly. I used techniques from occlumency to create barriers in my mind. I let my dominant personality retreat behind those barriers whenever I was in danger, or when I was being asked to fulfill the requirements of the curse. Meanwhile, my body would continue to function on it's own, controlled by the curse. I was always aware of what was going on, but I was separate from it all. Like I was watching it happen to someone else rather than to myself. It's kind of like DID, except the muggles can't control which personality is in control, and when one of them is in control, the others aren't aware of what is happening."

"Bloody brilliant." Harry sat back in his seat and took a long drink from his glass. He drained it quickly and reached for the bottle. After refilling his glass he again looked at the witch sitting across from him. Brightest witch of their age. No fucking doubt about it.

After a long pause, Draco shifted in his seat and caught Hermione's attention yet again.

"What happened the night of the ball?"

The question hung thick in the air. She had known this question would come up. How could it not? Her hand automatically went to her stomach and she sighed deeply. Her eyes became unfocused as she relived the night over in her mind.

"_What the hell is wrong with you? Harry said you look like shit, and he's right! How could you let this happen? You're supposed to always look your best. It's part of the damn rite! How did you get around it?" People were starting to look at them and he didn't want to risk anyone finding out what he had done, so he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out the back door. _

"I hadn't been feeling well for days. I suspected that I was pregnant, but I hadn't had a chance to take a test to verify it. When he asked me what was wrong with me, I couldn't lie to him, so I told him what I thought. He was furious. I had never seen him so angry." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "Of course, you both know what happened next. He wanted to make sure there was no baby. That there would never be a baby."

She raised her glass to her lips as Draco and Harry sat in stunned silence.

"When he was finished, I looked at him. Looked him right in the eye, and I said 'Go ahead, Ron. Kill me. Just remember, you bound us together.'" She smirked to herself as she remembered the way his face had drained of color. "He asked me what I was talking about, even though I'm pretty sure he knew. I had to word it carefully, or I wouldn't be able to say anything. It couldn't be perceived as talking back to him or arguing with him. I said 'Did you read the curse you put on us? When spouses are bound they follow each other in death. What do you think that means?'"

Draco's brows furrowed as he thought back to what he had read of the curse. He had been over it all so many times, he had it memorized. He was almost positive...

"I'm pretty sure it only worked the one way. If the husband died, the wife would also die." He looked up to see her looking at him, a triumphant smile on her lips.

"I'm pretty sure you're right." She shrugged her shoulders as if to say 'oh well'. "He didn't know that, though. And from that point on, he barely touched me, so I'd say it worked out pretty well, wouldn't you?"

"You tricked him?" Harry was shocked, amazed and more than a little impressed. She had found a way around the curse. She had managed to beat Ron at his own game.

"I asked the right questions." She shrugged again.

Draco's mind was whirling with all of the new information, plugging it into the right spots, creating new questions. One of which he wasn't sure if he should ask now, or if he should wait a bit until after Potter had left. It was a personal question, but it was one that he needed to know the answer to. And she had said this would be their only chance to ask.

"Did you say that he wanted to make sure there would never be a baby? What does that mean?" His voice was quiet. He thought he knew the answer, but he was afraid to hear it. She looked right at him, her brown eyes full of surprise and regret, and he knew.

"I never went back to St. Mungo's for the follow-up, so maybe not. But they told me while I was there that the chances of me ever having a baby were very small. Even if I were to get pregnant, which is in itself unlikely, there is so much scar tissue that it probably wouldn't be viable. I'm sorry, Draco. You read my hospital file. I assumed you knew."

"No. I didn't." He shook his head slightly. The silence that descended on the room was tense, sad, haunted. He decided then and there to make her an appointment with the best healer money could buy and find out if anything had changed in the last three years.

Harry cleared his throat and waited until both Hermione and Draco were looking at him before asking his next question.

"Hermione, you told me that Draco owed you a huge favor and that's why you chose him to be your sponsor. What favor did he owe you?"

Hermione's eyes met Draco's and they both smiled.

"She saved my ass."

"Twice."

"Yeah, twice." He laughed at the look of amusement on her face.

"When? Where?" Harry was still looking between the two of them. He had already surmised something along those lines, but he wanted specifics. He still had suspicions that they had secretly been in involved at Hogwarts, as crazy as that seemed.

"At the Final Battle."

"Bellatrix was kicking his ass. I stepped in. He was about to be blown up with a reducto charm, so I cast a shield." She stood and walked around the table to stand in front of him.

"The reducto rebounded and half of the castle started falling on our heads." He took her hand and she sat down on his lap. Her arms went around his neck while his arms went around her waist. It was then that she realized they had never talked about it. Not until now.

"I pushed him around the corner into a safe hallway." Even though they were answering Harry's question, they weren't really talking to Harry anymore. Their eyes were locked on each others.

"She had saved my life, so I gave her a Token."

"And in return, he saved my life as well." Her lips descended on his in a sweet, gentle kiss.

Harry watched the scene in front of him, and he finally got it. They hadn't been involved at Hogwarts as he had suspected.

They had been linked through a Token, a life-debt.

Somewhere in the middle of saving each other they had fallen in love.

* * *

_Two months later_

Hermione stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom. She was wearing a long black skirt, a cream colored sweater and black boots. Her hair was pulled up on the sides, with the back hanging in long curls past her shoulders. Small diamond earrings glittered in the light as she tilted her head to the left then to the right, studying the reflection of the woman in the mirror.

She saw past the expensive clothing and jewelry. Past the milky white skin that was peppered with small freckles. Past the chocolate brown eyes that had small golden flecks floating in them. She looked past all of that and saw a woman that had beaten the odds. A woman that had survived a war only to turn around and survive something even worse. She saw a woman that was clever and resourceful. A woman that was brave and stubborn.

Her eyes caught sight of Draco in the mirror and held his gaze. He was impeccably dressed, as always, in black trousers and a blue button down. His blonde hair was getting a little bit too long and the fringe nearly covered his silver eyes.

"You look absolutely amazing," he told her as he wrapped his arms around her waist.

She smiled as she turned around in his arms. He kissed her, slow and steady, for a long moment before pulling back and staring into her beautiful brown eyes. He wondered if she had any idea how proud he was of her.

"Are you ready to go?" he asked, even though he knew the answer. She had been reluctant to the idea at first, but once she had decided to go through with it she had been unstoppable.

She pulled away from him and smiled. A real, genuine smile that was so very rare for her. She smiled and it took his breath away.

"I am. Let's go." She took his hand in hers and pulled him towards the study. She was excited and nervous at the same time.

Two months ago, after she had sat with Harry and Draco and answered their questions, she had felt the sudden urge to write. It had taken her six weeks to write it all down. She started with her wedding day. She chronicled their five year marriage. She described the relief she felt when she saw Draco Malfoy in her sitting room on her fifth wedding anniversary.

She wrote about finding Ron's stash of memorabilia and the emotional torment she went through. She told of her recovery efforts, the therapy and the group meetings she attended with other survivors in the weeks and months following her escape. She ended her memoirs with Ron's trial and subsequent sentence.

She wrote it all down, the actions, the feelings, the memories. Everything. And when she was finished, she closed the book on that part of her life and walked away from it stronger, wiser, and slightly more damaged than she had started. The most important thing, though, was that she walked away. She had beat the odds, she had beat him at his own game, and she had survived.

Draco watched as she wrote, her quill scratching against the parchment for hours on end. He read through most of what she wrote and he realized that a lot of people out there wanted to know her story, just as he had. She was a war hero, beloved throughout the wizarding world, and people were more than curious. It took him a small amount of convincing, but he was finally able to talk her into publishing her memoirs.

Tonight they were attending a dinner with the publishing company, in celebration of her book release the next day. The early reviews were amazing, and the pre-sales were unprecedented.

Hermione's story was a success, and it hadn't even been released yet.

As they walked through the study, he suddenly stopped her.

"I almost forgot. Happy Valentine's Day." He handed her a small box wrapped in red foil with a silver bow across the front.

She took it from him and opened it with a large smile on her face. When she saw what was inside, she squealed in excitement. She picked up the book that was lying in the box. It was bound in brown leather, and in silver script across the front and the binding were the words

_The Token_

_A story of survival in an anything but perfect world._

_- Hermione Malfoy_


	21. Chapter 21

**{ ****Epilogue ****}**

_September 1__st_

Draco blinked his eyes open slowly. It was early. Far too early to be awake already. For some reason, though, he couldn't force his eyes closed again. Instead he focused on the beautiful witch lying beside him. Her head was cradled between his arm and his chest. Her hand was on his stomach. Her leg was thrown across his legs, her knee almost on his…well, a little too close for comfort. He shifted slightly so that her leg straightened out and his family jewels were once again a safe and clear distance from danger. He took his fingertips and lightly ran them through her curly brown hair while he thought about their first year together. Had it been a year already? Where had the time gone?

After her book had been released, they had taken an extended holiday. They spent two months traveling the world. They visited Italy, Greece, Egypt and America. They spent the time together getting to really know one another, relaxing and just having fun.

Fun. That was something neither of them really had a lot of experience in. They figured it out together, though. Draco taught Hermione how to fly a broom. She introduced him to movies and pizza. Together they spent days doing absolutely nothing but lounging in a beach chair watching the clouds float by. They explored caverns. They flew on an airplane. They took walks in the evenings and they made love to each other all night. In short, for the first time ever, they were both happy.

When they returned home Draco went back to work at the MLE and Hermione went back to work at the library. Despite their schedules, they made time for each other every day, and they made time for their friends. Harry and Luna had become frequent dinner guests, as well as Blaise and Pansy.

Lucius and Narcissa, however, had not. In fact, he hadn't spoken to either of his parents since he married Hermione one year ago. He had received a message from his dear old father the night before. The lunatic actually thought he was going to file for divorce in the morning.

Yes, since it was their one year anniversary, he technically could file for divorce. But really, anyone that saw them together could tell they were in love. He was the happiest he had ever been in his life. Why would he ruin that by leaving her? That would just be crazy on his part.

Of course, he was prepared for the consequences of his actions. As of today, he would be burned off the family tree. He would be banned from the family vaults. He would be denied access to all family lands, including the Malfoy Manor. As far as his parents were concerned, he was dead and gone.

He looked down at the witch in his arms again. Her big brown eyes were open now, and they were looking at him. Their eyes locked and again, just like every time, he knew that it didn't matter. He would gladly give it all up for her. Besides that, Draco Malfoy was wealthy in his own right. He inherited quite a chunk of change from his grandfather, not to mention his house and a small cabin on the beach. Even without the Malfoy fortune, Draco and Hermione would never want for money.

A shot of lustful energy sprang from his loins and spread throughout his body as a thought formed in his mind. Today was the day. After today the whole world would know that they were together, they were happily married, they were in love. Because when the deadline passed, the whole world would know that he was married to Hermione, not because he had to be as part of the sponsorship, but because he wanted to be.

It was like she could feel his desire building. She didn't resist at all when he flipped her to her back, covering her body with his own, and kissed her hungrily. No, she didn't resist. In fact, she encouraged him by digging her nails into his back, fighting with his tongue for dominance, and moaning deeply when he just barely teased her dripping wet pussy with his rock hard cock.

They merged together, hard and fast, over and over again until they were both grunting and moaning, panting and cursing, screaming each other's names into the darkness.

He could feel himself getting close, so fucking close to cumming. He clasped his hands over hers, intertwining their fingers and stretching both their arms above her head. His forehead came to rest on hers, their eyes locked together as he continued moving inside of her.

"I love you, Hermione." The words came out breathy and nearly whispered, but her eyes widened anyway as she heard them. Love. She knew that he loved her. She even knew that she loved him. Neither one of them had dared say those words, though. Her lips curved up in a smile that she couldn't have stopped if she wanted too. Her hands moved from his shoulders to the base of his neck, her fingers weaving into his platinum blond hair and she pulled his lips closer to hers.

"I love you, Draco." Her lips brushed against his as she said those words. Even though they both had known they were in love, hearing those words, saying those words, it filled both of them with strong emotions of joy, love and happiness.

Their lips met again and Draco picked up the pace, pumping into her almost frantically until they were both screaming out in ecstasy.

Neither of them noticed their wedding bands glowing a deep silver color as they came together, or the soft glow that covered them as they both collapsed into a deep sleep, wrapped around each other once more.

* * *

_Two Months Later_

Draco sat across the table from Hermione as they ate dinner. It was a rather common occurrence in the Malfoy family household. This was the third night, though, where he noticed his wife wasn't eating. She had a bout of the flu the week before, and she still looked pale and weak to him. She had stopped throwing up every time she ate, though, so he figured she was on the mend. Either that or she had simply stopped eating, which he was beginning to suspect from the look of her still-full dinner plate.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" He looked up at her face and noticed her eyes were drooping shut. She was about to fall asleep right into her mashed potatoes. Although it would be quite funny, he probably should try to stop it from happening.

"I think it's just this flu. I'm exhausted and really don't feel like eating anything."

He looked her over one more time. She looked miserable.

"Why don't you go lie down for a little while?"

She looked like she was going to protest, but reluctantly she agreed. He stood from the table as she did, he did have manners after all. As she stood, he saw her eyes flutter then roll back in her head. She started swaying on her feet. He barely made it around the table to catch her before her knees collapsed and she fell into his arms.

Fuck. He knew he should have made her go see a Healer. She had insisted that she was fine. Well, obviously she wasn't fine.

He scooped her into his arms and went straight to St. Mungo's. She opened her eyes once when he placed her on the hospital bed. She seemed to recognize where she was, then her eyes closed again and she fell into a deep sleep.

Draco sat beside her as the Healers ran test after test. An hour later Hermione woke up and demanded to know what had happened and why she was in the hospital. Draco had just finished explaining to her that she had simply collapsed when Healer Nadine walked in.

"Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy." She smiled brightly and sat down in the chair at the end of her bed. "I have some good news for you. We know why you collapsed."

Draco squeezed Hermione's hand tightly. Deep seeded anxiety had converged on his chest. Somehow in the hour since they had gotten there, he had managed to convince himself that whatever it was, it was something horrible that was going to take her away from him.

"Congratulations. You're going to have a baby."

His breath left his lungs in a whoosh of air. Those were words that he thought he would never hear, words that he had convinced himself he never needed to hear. A baby. Hermione was going to be a mother. He was going to be a father. Oh Merlin.

He slowly became aware of Hermione's hand in his, squeezing as tightly as she possible could. He glanced up at her and saw that her face had drained of all color. She was still staring at the Healer, but she wasn't seeing her at all.

Healer Nadine was staring between the two of them, obviously not sure of their reactions. Usually when a young couple is told they are having a baby they are happy about it. But these two just seemed…shocked.

"That's not possible." Her voice was barely a whisper. She looked terrified, although the Healer could not imagine why.

"It is entirely possible, Mrs. Malfoy. You are approximately eight weeks pregnant." She paused to pull out a few pamphlets and a prescription pad. "You'll need to eat better than you have been and I'm prescribing you some prenatal vitamins. I'm also going to suggest you make an appointment with a Healer that specializes in obstetrics within the next few days. You're free to go as soon as you're ready." She handed them the paperwork and left the hospital room, sparing only one more confused glance at the young couple.

"A baby, Hermione." A grin spread slowly across his face. They were going to have a baby.

"Don't get your hopes up, Draco. We need to talk to a Healer that knows what the hell they're talking about." She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up slowly. He put his arm around her shoulders and together they left the small room.

He didn't lead her to the floo, though. Instead he led her up two floors to the obstetrics department. After another two hour long wait, they finally got to see a Healer.

Healer Williams looked through her medical history carefully. He ran tests on her to see what the status of her scar tissue was. And he confirmed that she was, in fact, two months pregnant.

"We'll consider it a high-risk pregnancy, but from what I can see right now everything looks fine. The baby is doing well, the mother is doing well, even though she does need to eat a little better. We don't have anything to worry about at this point. We'll need to see you in the office once a week so we can keep an eye on everything. No apparating from this point forward, and I would only use the floo network in emergency situations. Muggle transportation is the way to go for the next seven months."

He gave them some more information, some more instructions, and sent them on their merry way.

They didn't tell anyone about the baby for another two months, and at that point they only told their closest friends. Harry, Blaise, Luna and Pansy.

At six months along they were told most of the danger had passed. Hermione's baby bump was spotted in Daigon Alley and was on the front cover of the Daily Prophet the next day.

At seven months she finally relented and let Draco turn their spare bedroom into a nursery. She absolutely refused to let him paint it green. They settled on (read: Hermione decided on) lilac colored walls and white trim. Draco was painting the walls while she painted the trim. The muggle way. It annoyed him that she wanted to do everything the muggle way at first, but he found the end results so much more satisfying. He actually preferred using the muggle way in most things anymore. Unless he was in a hurry, then magic worked just as well.

Draco turned to put more paint on his roller just as she stood up behind him. A lovely lilac streak of paint covered her hair and her back before he realized he was painting her. They both froze in place and then started laughing. That was when she felt the first twinge in her abdomen. It didn't hurt so much; it was just a little uncomfortable. Just enough so that she stopped laughing and her hand flew to her stomach.

Draco didn't notice. He was still chuckling even as he reached for his wand to clean the paint off of her. He vanished the wet paint from her hair and her clothes in an instant.

The second twinge was sharper. She gasped and bent over at her waist in an attempt to stop the pain.

"What's wrong?" Draco watched her for a minute before she straightened up and took a deep breath.

She cried out as the third pain hit her.

"It's the baby, Draco. Get the car. We need to go to the hospital. Now."

"It's not time yet." He had his arm around her and was heading for the door despite his lame protest.

"It's time. Trust me. It's time." She was gasping for air through the sudden onslaught of pain.

Within twenty minutes they were at the hospital. Healer Williams met them there and whisked Hermione away, leaving Draco in the waiting room to wait, and wonder. He notified their friends, who all came down to the hospital to sit with him.

Seven hours later, they were all still sitting there, still waiting to hear any kind of news from beyond those swinging white doors. Finally…finally! Healer Williams entered the waiting room. He looked tired and weary. There were splotches of blood on his green scrubs that caught Draco's attention. So focused on the blood was he, that he almost missed hearing the words that would change his life forever.

"Mr. Malfoy. We almost lost both of them, but you know Hermione, she's a fighter. I'm pretty sure your daughter is going to be just like her."

It took a long moment for the Healer's words to sink in. When they did, his eyes widened and his lips lifted into a smile.

"They're alive?" He had to ask for clarification. As soon as the healer nodded, the smile on his face became a full-blown grin.

"Are you ready to meet your daughter?"

Draco took a deep breath before following the healer passed the swinging white doors, down the hallway and into a small hospital room. Hermione was lying on the bed, exhausted but awake. Her eyes lit up when she saw him and he released a sigh of relief when their eyes met.

The door behind the healer opened and a nurse walked in pushing a small cart. Inside the cart was a tiny baby wrapped in a pink blanket. Her face was scrunched up and her little hands were curled into fists. She was screaming loudly to anyone that would listen. Draco carefully lifted the tiny little girl out of the cart and held her in his arms. Her screams quieted down and she fell asleep as he bounced gently back and forth.

He glanced up at Hermione and smiled when he saw the small smile on her lips. When she had his attention, she nodded behind him, towards the door. He turned to see what she was looking at. He was startled to discover an extra person standing just inside the doorway, and another standing right behind her, not quite in the room.

"Mother. Father." He nodded to them. It was odd to see them both standing there. He hadn't spoken to either of them in well over a year and a half. Somehow, it seemed right though. This was their granddaughter, after all.

His mother had tears leaking from her eyes and a wide smile on her face as she looked at the small child in his arms. His father was looking back and forth between Draco, Hermione and the baby. Up until this moment he had assumed that Draco was merely rebelling against his wishes. He hadn't bothered actually cutting his son off because he was sure the boy would end this charade at any time.

Looking at the small family in front of him made him realize that wasn't going to happen. The fool boy was actually in love with this muggle-born girl. The pureblood Malfoy line was ruined and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. He thought back to the words that Narcissa had said to him earlier when she was trying to convince him to go to St. Mungo's with her. She said "Pureblood or half-blood, it doesn't matter at all. Because that baby it still our blood."

Lucius looked up from the baby to meet his son's eyes. There was a question in there. Are you hear to cause trouble? He shook his head slightly and wrapped his hand around Narcissa's waist to show Draco that he meant no harm. When the message was received the boy noticeably relaxed and smiled at them. Smiled. He didn't even know that Draco knew how to smile. A warm feeling spread through him and he found himself stepping forward along with his wife, stepping closer to his son, his daughter-in-law and his granddaughter.

Draco held his daughter cradled against his body with his left arm. His right hand found Hermione's hand and squeezed it gently before he returned his focus to his parents.

"I would like to introduce you to Cassiopeia Marie Malfoy."

Hermione lay in bed as she watched the exchange between her husband and her in-laws. She was absolutely exhausted from the labor and the emergency surgery, but she couldn't let herself go to sleep. Not yet. She wanted to be awake to see Draco reunite with his parents, to see them welcome their granddaughter into the world.

This was her family. This was their family. Even though she fought it, her eyes drifted closed. Somewhere between being awake and falling asleep, she heard the words she knew would mean the world to Draco, and someday to little Cassie too.

"We don't agree on certain things, Draco. We probably never will, but that's okay. You followed your heart son, and I can't fault you for that." There was a long pause where she could hear the older man taking in a deep breath before he continued. "Keep an eye on her. Before you know it she'll be all grown up, making her own decisions and moving on with her life without any regard to how you feel about those choices. It happens faster than you think it will."

Draco smirked at his father. It was the closest thing to an apology that he would ever get.

Two weeks later Cassie was released from St. Mungo's. They took her home and put her in her freshly painted lilac and white nursery. She opened her little silver eyes when they laid her down in her crib, her curly brown hair sticking out in small clumps. Then she opened her mouth and screamed. And screamed. And screamed some more, until her daddy picked her up and bounced her again. She closed her eyes and fell back into a contented sleep, knowing that all was right in the world, fairy tales really do come true, and everyone, including her Mommy and Daddy, deserved a 'Happily Ever After'.

**The End**

**AN: Thank you all so much for reading, following and reviewing this story. I know my posting schedule got messed up a little bit, but I managed to get back on track in the end. Today is the two year anniversary of the day my mom passed away.**

**She was more than just my mom, she was my best friend. She would have loved this story, although she would have made me give her the epilogue first so she knew how the story ended before she started reading it at all. LOL**

**Again, thank you all for helping me honor her memory this way. I hope you enjoyed the story. Please leave a note on your way out and let me know what you think. **


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