Author's Notes:

"Dark Lover" is the title of the book featuring Wrath & Beth's story in the B.D.B. universe, "The King" is their second story, and "Lover At Last" was one of the titles of the books in the B.D.B. series with such a catchy title, I just had to use all three here in homage.

~.~.~.~.~

Later, Hermione would wonder if she'd imagined it, that feathery white light surrounding both her and Draco that had felt so comforting, like a sun-warmed blanket on a rainy, grey day. It had surrounded her and penetrated her, and she'd fallen asleep content within its embrace.

The sounds of bird song woke her sometime later.

The bedroom window was open a crack to let in a gentle autumn breeze, and the loveliest trilling greeted her when she cracked open her eyes. Her head felt like sand; she'd overslept, it seemed.

What time was it?

Every muscle in her body strongly protested when she attempted to get up out of bed. It took several minutes, some hissed complaints, and a whole lot of effort to move, as she was sore in places she'd never been before…and in other places she didn't know it was possible to feel such a thing.

God, Draco had nearly shagged her into traction!

As she bent with some difficulty at the waist to pull the sofa's tartan throw up and over her naked form, she became aware of raised voices somewhere within in the house. Zeroing in on a nearby wall vent, and straining her hearing, she was able to pick up on what was being said in one of the other rooms.

"…brought that filth here? To your father's noble ancestral home?"

There was the sound of flesh smacking flesh rather hard, a slap that had been louder than even the one she'd given to Malfoy in their third year.

"How dare you, nephew! How dare you…mate…that filthy Mudblood!"

"I told you, she's half-blood, you raving bitch," Draco snarled back.

Hermione reeled back. Half-blood? That was a stretch for even for his ability to lie so well, she thought. There was no way Bellatrix Lestrange would believe such a thing, when everyone knew perfectly well Hermione's magical affiliations. She'd made it no secret over the years that she was proud of her Muggle parents.

The clinking of chains and the sounds of a scuffle indicated Draco was being held captive by an Incarceration spell—which meant he'd been captured by his mad Aunt. How the witch got through the Manor wards was a mystery…

Unless she'd never left in the first place.

They hadn't checked the greenhouse out back, where Draco's mother had grown her prized roses, had they?

Regardless, what was she going to do?

First things first, she found her wand in the folded pile of her clothing (Draco's doing, no doubt), and cast a Healing charm on herself. It would help to dull the pain in her muscles, but the after affects would be hell. She'd deal.

Next, she dressed, as quickly and quietly as possible.

Then, Muffling her feet and the door hinges, she left the library and followed the voices to the Drawing Room.

"Hold him down, Fenrir. We wouldn't want the knife to slip and cut him anywhere…vital," Bellatrix purred, sounding positively triumphant.

More scuffling, and then a body slammed to the floor and Draco grunted from the impact.

"What are you doing, you mangy mutt?" Bellatrix chided, sounding put-out by her lackey. "Just sit on him, for Salazar's sake! You outweigh the boy by two stone, easily!" More brawling followed. Someone threw a punch that connected. "Oh, must I do everything myself?"

Laughter followed from several mouths.

Hermione froze in the act of turning the doorknob, intending to surprise Bellatrix and Fenrir with a dual casting of a Petrification spell. The fact that she now knew there were more than just the two of them in the next room changed everything. She'd have to go with a Concussive spell to get them all at once, it seemed. Hopefully, Draco would already be on the ground, so he wouldn't fall and hit his head.

Just as she prepared the spell, a familiar hand reached out and covered hers, stopping her from turning the doorknob. She looked up and over her shoulder in shock to find her father standing behind her, a finger over his lips to indicate she should be silent. Behind him stood Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Malfoy, and Severus Snape.

Everyone had a wand out…including her father.

Her father indicated she should step back and allow him to take the lead. Adamantly, she shook her head, thinking this some sort of sick joke. From the back of the group, Snape made an exasperated face, stepped forward and grabbed her arm, yanking her back. Hermione struggled against her former Professor's grip, but he simply pointed his wand at her nose and she went still.

"Stay," he whispered, so softly that she barely heard him.

Before she could counter his word or his wand, her father opened the door into the Drawing Room and cast a Concussive blasting spell of his own.

Her father cast a spell.

"Well, that was refreshing," he said, flashing them a pleased smile. "Still got it in me, it seems."

Lucius Malfoy tsked and rolled his eyes, but Narcissa ran past them all, calling for Draco. As she entered the room, she cast a series of Petrification spells on every Snatcher, Fenrir Greyback, and her own sister. Then, she knelt at Draco's side.

"Oh, my son! Lucius, I need you!"

Hermione jerked her arm out of Severus Snape's hold and ran past her father—was that really him? It couldn't be! It had to be Polyjuice potion or some new Weasley invention—and into the room, to kneel at Draco's other side.

"A Healing charm won't work," she explained to ease Narcissa's fretting. Putting pressure under one of his arms, Hermione attempted to force Draco into a seated position. "Concussive spells have the potency of three Stunning spells going off at once in a concentrated area, with the added effect of a one-hundred and seventy decibel bang. It doesn't cause permanent damage, just temporary disorientation, deafness, and dizziness caused by the fluid in the ear being disturbed. He needs to get up on his feet and walk it off. It'll help."

"That's my girl," her father stated, proudly. "Always with an answer."

As she put all her weight on one leg and shifted her body to support Draco under one arm, she pushed, lifting her muddled lover up off the floor…and causing every muscle in her body to scream in pain, nearly causing her to stumble sideways. It seemed the Healing charm she'd earlier cast had limits after all.

"Instead of gawping at my brilliance, how about a little help?" she asked the others.

Immediately, four wands were made available to help Draco's recovery, and to secure the prisoners into the Malfoy dungeons below.

Once everyone was settled, and she'd gotten Draco back to the library to lie back on the chaise sofa, she turned to the man who looked and talked like her father, but absolutely could not be him, because…because that would be preposterous! "All right, who are you and what did you do with my father?" she asked him, pointing her wand in the imposter's face. Then, she waved it back and forth between the others in the room. "And for that matter, aren't the rest of you supposed to be dead?"

Across the room, Snape snorted, pouring himself a drink from the liquor caddy. "Clever though you believe yourself to be, Miss Granger, wisdom still escapes you, it seems."

She glanced between the Malfoys, her former professor, and her 'father', then she took a seat next to Draco, her wand still at the ready, just in case.

"By all means, please do enlighten me."

~.~.~.~.~

Her icy fury was the first thing Draco heard when his hearing returned.

"You're a WHAT?" Hermione seethed, staring down her father with that same death-glare she'd given Potter just the other day. "Do you mean to tell me that all this time, you've been lying to me about who and what you really are?"

Hermione's father held up his hands in surrender. "Now, now, petal…let me explain."

"You're a pure-blood?" she screeched. "A Princeps, too? Our last name isn't even Granger?!"

"Technically, it is. I changed my last name, legally, when I married your mother."

"But you're a Burke!" she argued with her dad. "One of the Sacred Twenty-Eight!"

"The last of his line," Lucius interjected with a slight sneer curling his lip.

Draco shot his father a quelling look, as he wriggled a finger in each ear to assure they worked properly. "But that's fine, seeing as how Hermione's lineage will carry on in our own, Father. We're just uniting two great houses."

Hermione's head spun towards him fast enough to give her whiplash. "Was that–" Her eyes narrowed dangerously. "I don't recall you actually asking me to marry you."

He laughed. "We bonded, Granger. It doesn't get more permanent than that."

Eyebrows shooting into her hairline, she looked at him as if she was daring him to say something else stupid so she could have an excuse to hex his 'bits' all over England. "A bond does not a marriage proposal make." She turned her nose up at him and folded her arms over her chest. "Don't assume you can boss me around now that we've consummated our relationship, Draco. I still have a wand, you know."

Granger's father let out a hearty laugh and clapped Lucius on the shoulder with a heavy hand. "You see, I knew our children would get along, old friend. You just needed a little more faith."

"As I recall, I wasn't given a choice," Draco's father hissed. "You shoved that rhythe down my throat and forced it on my son's shoulders!"

"Come now, Luc, surely you can see how good they are together? It all worked out in the end."

"It all worked out?" Lucius sputtered. "Y-You magically gagged me, you…you great woolly oaf!"

Hermione turned to look at the two bickering patriarchs of their ancient families, interrupting their fight. "What rhythe?"

They instantly shut up and looked at her. Hermione's father was the first to look away, guilt flushing his features. "I made…arrangements…with the Malfoys, in advance, to ensure you made it through your Transition, my dove," her father explained. "I was sick when you were little. I thought… It was leukemia."

Draco felt Hermione stiffen next to him, and he reached out and took her hand in his to provide her support and his strength, should she need it.

"When? Why didn't you ever say anything?"

Her father held up a hand to quiet her barrage of questions. "You were eight, and you'd already manifested powerful magic. I didn't want to take the chance that you wouldn't have a strong partner come your Transition. I was afraid for you, especially since…well, you'd been conceived when I was a Squib."

She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. "A Squib? But…how?"

The big man sighed and sat back in his chair, fiddling with his wand. "I'd met your mother by accident soon after graduating from Hogwarts. I'd had one too many to celebrate, you see, and left the Leaky Cauldron on foot. Got lost in Muggle London. She'd been kind enough to help me. Gave me a place on her sofa, so I didn't sleep in the gutter. I never left." He gave his daughter a shy smile. "She taught me that Muggles weren't so bad."

Lucius snorted, and Draco cast his father a baleful eye, letting him know his prejudicial commentary wasn't appreciated.

Hermione's father ignored his old classmate. He kept his attention on his daughter as he explained his darkest secret to her at long last. "At that time, the Dark Lord was starting to recruit from all the noblest families. By then I'd bonded to Maggie. I loved her and couldn't betray her, so I left the magical world and my name behind. I went off to Uni with your mum, and then we became dentists together. Opened a practice. Had you. The rest was history."

"Simply turning your back on the wizarding world wouldn't have made you lose your magic," she pointed out.

"You're right." He tapped his wand over his heart. "I used an ancient spell to cover up my magical signature, so Voldemort would never find me. It worked too well. I lost my magic. I got sick from that."

"Then, how did you get it back?" Hermione asked him, nodding towards his wand.

He stood up and crossed over to her, and knelt at her feet, taking her hands in his. "Your accidental magic at the age of eight was powerful enough to begin knitting my broken magical soul back together."

Everyone in the room gasped at that revelation, including Draco, who looked at his new wife—for all intents and purposes, she was that, regardless of her insistence on tradition—in utter amazement.

"With the return of my magic, strength returned to my body as well," her father explained. "It took a dozen years, but there's no sign of the cancer in me, and my magic has nearly all returned to me. It cost you, however, in that it delayed your Transition by years, and for that I am sorry, but…" He smiled at her, pressing a kiss to the backs of her knuckles. "You saved me, my petal. How could I not want to do the same for you?"

"Oh, Daddy!"

Granger flung herself into her father's arms and cried. The big man clung engulfed his petite daughter in his bear-like embrace and together, they set the past to rest.

It wasn't that easy for Draco, who wanted explanations of his own.

He turned to his father, who slid his eyes to the side and would not meet his gaze. His mother did the same, so he depended upon his godfather for answers. Snape swallowed half a glass of Firewhisky before offering an account of that day, years earlier.

"Draught of Living Death," he explained. "Time delayed."

"You faked your deaths."

The three adults nodded.

"And you didn't think to let me in on the plan, or to contact me all these years later and let me know you weren't actually dead?"

He was doing amazingly well in controlling his temper, he thought.

"We couldn't," his mother finally interjected, looking with disgust at her husband for not speaking up. "We were undercover, hunting down the Dark Lord's horcruxes for you and your Order."

Hermione gasped and pulled away from her father to stare at the three of them. "It was you. You're the one who told Shacklebolt about Hufflepuff's cup, and captured Nagini for Neville."

"For Slytherin's sake," his father snarled and waved his wand around, summoning forth his Patronus. It was a jackal.

Hermione squeaked and pointed at it. "It was you!" She looked at Draco's mother. "You're the fox, then?" His mother nodded. "And you're the doe?" she asked Snape.

Their old professor merely sighed, but it was clear the answer was 'yes'.

Hermione turned to her father. "So that makes you the lion."

"Chimera, actually," he admitted, and summoned one for her to see. "The tail, you see?"

"What in the bloody hell are you people talking about?" Draco finally asked, his patience having finally come to an end.

His witch reached out and took his hand. "Your parents and Professor Snape and my father…they helped us find the horcruxes, so we could make Voldemort mortal once more. I knew someone was feeding the Order information, but I didn't know their identity. Then, when Harry, Ron, and I struck out on our own, it was their four Patronuses who came to us and clued us in on certain things so we could find Slytherin's locket, Ravenclaw's diadem, and discover Nagini's true purpose as another horcrux. Without our parents and Professor Snape, we'd still be floundering around looking for clues, and the war would still be going on."

"And let's not forget our assistance in assuring Mister Potter slipped around the wards into the Manor through the hidden passage, shall we," Lucius added, sounding supremely smug. "That, I believe, was the end game to it all."

"You gave Harry his shot to face the Dark Lord here," Hermione stated with awe. "I wondered how he'd accomplished that feat. Not even his Invisibility Cloak could have gotten him through those spells. He'd needed someone on the inside."

Draco stood up, glaring at his parents and Snape. "Okay, so you helped Scarhead. How magnanimous of you all! Thanks ever so for helping us win the war. Still, you made me believe you were dead! Why the fuck would you do something like that?"

"I will not have that language in this house, Draco," his mother warned him, getting her back up.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he stared her down. "And I won't tolerate being lied to by my own parents."

"There was no choice, Draco," Lucius coldly replied. He'd been an icy, hard man before, and 'death' hadn't changed him a bit, it seemed. "It was the condition we agreed to when Scrimgeour approached us just after Albus Dumbledore's death."

"We four took the Unforgivable Vow," his mother stated, putting a hand on her husband's arm to persuade him to let her do the talking, "to go undercover to lend aid to the Order of the Phoenix in destroying the Dark Lord, and to have absolutely no contact with our children until the Dark Lord was dead."

"In exchange for what?" Draco roared.

"A full pardon for all of us, including you, should the war be won by Potter," Snape snapped, clearly irritated with Draco's insubordination.

That took Draco aback. "A pardon…for me? For what?"

The minute the words were out of his mouth, he knew: for all of sixth year. For the sin of letting the Death Eaters into Hogwarts, where they attacked students and staff. For the death of the Headmaster. For cursing Katie Bell, poisoning Ron Weasley, and using an Unforgivable on Madam Rosmerta. For killing Antonin Dolohov. Hell, he was sure that stealing Granger's first kiss was probably a charge the post-war Ministry would heap on him, too, if they could.

His anger deflated, knowing his parents and Snape had been forced by a very cunning Minister, who had been bright enough to recognise that the Order had been England's only real hope of defeating Voldemort and his army of darkness.

"What did you do to break the law?" Granger asked, staring askance at her father.

The man grinned, and he looked more shark than mammal right then. "I called a rhythe down on Lucius Malfoy."

"A crime well-deserved of an Azkaban sentence," Lucius stated, glaring at Hermione's father.

Draco considered that. "A desperate gamble," he finally said and held his hand out to Hermione. She slipped out of her chair and sat next to him on the chaise sofa, falling into his embrace. "Well played, sir."

Richard Granger Burke, his new, unofficial father-in-law, beamed at him with pride. "Still such excellent manners, lad. It does a man's heart good to see it." Clearing his throat, he lumbered to his feet and stood over them, his mood having quickly shifted so that now he was back to his jolly giant self. "There, you see, Luc. I told you they'd be like us!"

Hermione gasped and sat up straight. She looked between her father and Draco's father. "You're…you're my father's pyrocant. And his bête noire!" she accused Lucius.

As Draco knew he and both his parents spoke fluent French and ancient wizarding terminology, they all understood the terms and their social context. Lucius snorted and looked away, but for the first time in Draco's memory, he could see his father's embarrassment in the pinking of his cheeks. He gaped at the revelation that his father actually liked Richard Grange Burke, despite his vitriolic response to the man.

More than liked, if his suspicions were correct…

Draco's mother laughed. "My, my, but you are clever and wise, aren't you, young lady?" she asked Granger, with an arch look over her shoulder at Snape.

The former Potions professor sniffed and turned back to the liquor caddy without another word.

Hermione's father reached out and touched his daughter's cheek with reverence. "That's my princess. Shining star of this generation."

Draco growled, his possessive instincts as a bonded male taking over. He tightened his hold on his woman. "My princess," he stated, very firmly, leaving no room for doubt.

Hermione laughed as her father quickly moved away, warned off by her possessive lover. "Easy, Sir Galahad," she chided Draco gently, kissing his cheek. "I'm all yours. You saved me, as promised."

Draco took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He had, hadn't he? She was, wasn't she? Still… "I'm no 'white knight'," he groused, embarrassed at the beaming attention he was receiving.

Hermione assessed him with a roving eye. "No, you're more the anti-hero, aren't you? A 'dark lover'." She soothed his ruffled scales with a gentle kiss to his cheek. "And I'm no genteel princess, as I'm sure you're very aware."

He snorted. Understatement of the century. Princesses didn't pack such a nasty right hook.

"How about this instead? A dragon reforms his evil ways and becomes a dark knight," she amended their tale. "He meets a princess, who has been disguised as a lonely bookworm by her cunning father, The King of Slytherin. They fall in love—which had been The King's plan all along. They fight incessantly, though—which had been the dragon's father's plan all along. Altogether, they battle a dark lord who wants to enslave the world and they win. Then, they all live happily ever after."

Draco grinned down at her, his lover at long last. "My leelan, now that's one story I could believe."

~FIN~

Author's Notes:

Orig. version 1.0 - 2 September, 2016
Revised version 2.0 - 1 January, 2017

Well, we come to the end of our tale. Everything answered for you, bad guys presumably going to Azkaban once the Aurors are called in, and with a solid hope that strained relationships will eventually mend all around and everyone will live happily-ever-after.

I have considered an Epilogue for the story. I'm still mulling it over. What story arc would you want to see if I did write one more chapter (Hermione/her dad talking, Draco/his parents talking, baby or child in the future, etc.)? Send me a review and let me know!

XOXO,

- RZZMG