Your responses to the last few chapters have been incredible, thank you! I don't want to confirm any theories but I will say it's been really interesting reading them.

This story is different from my previous HLB fics in the manner that I didn't plan it out before I started writing it. The others were meticulously plotted out in advance which was a great help, even if sometimes I ditched certain plot lines. I guess I needed that more back then because I was trying to get a feel for where I wanted the fics to go, but by now I'm so comfortable in the setting and with the characters that I feel I don't need it as much. I have certain landmark plot lines in my head that I know the story has to reach but everything in between is floating in the air. It might not be the best approach but it's been working for me so far and the ending of this series is as much a mystery as it is to you, but the path there will hopefully be very interesting.

As always, thank you for your support and for reading. If you want to check out some fan art I've made for this series I've posted it exclusively on my ko-fi page (you can find me thewanderingdaughter). You can view and download it for free! There is more art on the way. I feel like I need to get a better grasp of how to draw Draco but more art is on the way so I'm getting plenty of practice in the meantime. Please leave a review if you can and tell me what you think!

Hermione had taken no more than three steps out of the bedroom when she found herself wrapped in a crushing hug. She stumbled, panic flaring in her chest, and reached up to push the unknown person away, one second away from willing her talons back, but found Pansy there and relaxed immediately.

"Oh, thank Merlin," Pansy said in a relieved gasp. "Forgive me, my Lady, I know I mustn't —I was so worried—"

Hermione hugged her back. When they pulled away, Pansy wiped at her eyes.

"I'm alright," Hermione said, trying to smile. "Just tired. And confused."

"Is my Lord still inside the bedroom?"

"Yes," Hermione said, turning pale, "and I'd like to put some distance between us and go see my son."

"Of course."

They set off quickly.

"How did it happen?" Pansy asked. "How are you?"

"I don't know," Hermione said, her breath short, shaking her head. "I feel like I can hardly understand it. I remember the moments before I went under and then I woke up. I'm sore all over and I just want to sleep, even if that's all I've been doing."

"My Lord was almost beside himself at the start," Pansy confided. "He had Healer Lewis come see you, and he almost refused to leave your side. It's the most worried I've ever seen him."

"Yes, I imagine," Hermione said stiffly. "He'd have hated to lose his favorite possession."

"I was worried, too," Pansy said. "He called me into the room just after it happened. I thought he'd killed you at last."

"So did I." She turned to Pansy. "How is Lucio?"

Pansy faltered. "Very subdued, my Lady. He couldn't fathom that you didn't say goodbye."

At Hermione's pained expression, she hurried to add, "My Lord ordered that he not know the truth of what happened to you. Lucio has been told that you were called away by a friend on an emergency visit."

"More lies." Hermione sighed and closed her eyes. "Has it really been two weeks?"

"Unfortunately, my Lady."

And the last time she had spoken to Lucio she had told him his father was a dangerous man. What might he have suspected? What might Draco have told him during her absence? She was afraid to find out.

"What have I missed?"

"My Lord ordered me to take Lucio out many times to distract him since he was so upset. He cried a lot."

Hermione closed her eyes.

"My Lord paused his lessons for a bit, as he wanted no one else in the house. He wouldn't leave your side… I encouraged him to get out of the manor and go about his usual business. Lucio barely saw him the first week."

The thought of Draco hovering around her still while she was unconscious was not surprising, but still unappealing. Hermione pressed Pansy's hand.

"Thank you."

"I knew that even if you were unconscious you wouldn't have wanted him there," Pansy replied softly.

"I wouldn't," Hermione agreed. She glanced around the corridor.

"Strange that it still feels like I'm dreaming."

"Do you want medicine?" Pansy asked.

"No," Hermione said. "I know I'm awake. I think it's still wearing off. I'll be fine."

They had reached the nursery.

"Are you hungry?" Pansy asked. "Dinner isn't for another two hours but I'll have something made for you if you wish it. You lost some weight while you were asleep with fever."

"No," Hermione said dismissively. "I have no appetite. I'll wait."

"But—"

"Enough."

Hermione's voice had come out a little sharper than she had originally wanted.

Pansy bowed her head at the rebuke.

"Of course, my Lady. Forgive me."

She began to leave. Hermione rushed to catch up to her.

"I'm sorry," she said in a rush. "I'm just overwhelmed. But I need to see my son."

"Of course," Pansy said. "I understand. I will send word when dinner is ready."

She left.

When Hermione entered the nursery she immediately located Lucio sitting with his back to the door, flipping through a book rather morosely. She knocked softly on the wall.

"Darling," she called softly.

At once he turned and on seeing her, his eyes went round. He threw the book aside and ran to her, threw his arms around her.

"You didn't say goodbye," he said accusingly, his tears absorbed by her robe. "I was scared."

"I'm sorry," she said, clutching him to her. "I didn't have time. I missed you very much, my love."

He pulled away to see her face, wiped at his eyes. "Where did you go?"

Hermione hesitated. "To see somebody who needed my help."

"Why did they need help?

Damn. Hermione thought fast.

"They needed help with research."

Lucio frowned. "Oh. On what?"

Hermione closed her eyes. Her head hurt. "I can't tell you, my love. It's a secret."

"Ok," he said, hiccuping. "Can I go with you next time?"

"Of course," Hermione said. "I'll never leave you behind again."

There was a sound at the door, and they looked up in time to see Draco entering the nursery. Hermione immediately felt Lucio tense beside her and grip her hand more tightly. She put an arm around him and met eyes with her husband, who was staring at her expectantly.

"Aren't you glad mummy's back, Lucio?" He asked.

"Yes," Lucio said, his voice subdued.

"I am, too," Hermione replied, and kissed Lucio on the top of his head.

But I didn't come back for you, she thought to Draco. Only him.

"We both missed you terribly," Draco said. "This house isn't the same without you, my love."

"So I heard." She tried to keep her suspicion from marring her expression.

"Is it time for dinner?" Lucio asked. Hermione heard his stomach growl.

"Yes," Draco said. "You'll have to eat with Pansy tonight, Lucio. Your mother and I have an errand or two to run."

Hermione frowned. Draco gave her a meaningful look, encouraging her to look back and find the answer.

It hit her like a sandbag had fallen into her lap.

"Do you have to?" Lucio asked her.

"Yes, she must," Draco said firmly. "There will be no bargaining on this. Pansy's here to take you downstairs. You will eat your dinner and brush your teeth and go straight to bed and we'll see you tomorrow."

"Can't I go, too?"

"I'm afraid not, my love," Hermione said quickly. "It's boring stuff, and it won't take long. Besides, I can hear how hungry you are. Go with Pansy and I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"Okay," Lucio said unhappily.

Believe me, my little love, if I had a choice I would stay here with you, Hermione thought.

They walked to the door where Pansy was waiting beside Draco.

Hermione knelt down again, smoothed Lucio's curls, and kissed his cheek.

"We won't be long. I love you," she said, gave him a quick, meaningful look with her eyes.

Everything will be okay.

His eyes went to the floor. "I love you too."

"Goodnight, Lucio," Draco said.

"Goodnight, father," Lucio said, making no effort to hug or kiss him. Hermione could barely contain her surprise. What had happened? Why was Lucio so cold to his father so suddenly? Had Draco done or said something to him to change his attitude so drastically? Draco didn't seem bothered in the least.

Lucio reluctantly let go of her hand, then took Pansy's offered one. They left in silence.

Hermione blinked as a heavy cloak materialized from thin air, fastening itself around her. Draco held out his arm.

"Even with your magic back," he said as she took it, "you can't Apparate outside of the Manor without my aid or permission, or as an extension with Pansy. But you would need my permission for that as well."

"I guessed as much," she said.

Her wand appeared in his hand. She took it when he offered, secured it in the wand pocket of her robe, then took his arm again.

They disappeared with a muted crack.

They landed on a steep hill that overlooked the grounds.

It was night time at the Hogwarts ruins as well—the sky was clear and stars speckled the sky all over. The air was cool and crisp, a hint of humidity laced through the atmosphere as if it had rained recently.

Construction had already begun. Hermione could see at once that this new school was going to be at least twice the size that Hogwarts had once been.

"You could have just rebuilt the original," she heard herself say.

"The original was a hideous mess," Draco said. "Obnoxious moving staircases, blocked passageways, trapdoors. Dumbledore might have fixed them up and made the school look better but kept them out of his pathetic fondness for their novelty. My school will be the Hogwarts that always should have been."

"Will you name it after yourself, too?"

He ignored her sarcasm.

"We'll see."

"Why are we here?"

"I wanted you to see the progress," he said. "While you were under, I hated to leave your side. Pansy insisted I leave you be and get back to work. So I hurried the start of construction."

Hermione could easily picture him wrapped around her body and not leaving for the duration of her bizarre sleep. Despite Pansy's kind efforts she knew Draco still must have spent as much time with her as he could manage. She hated to think of what he had done (because there was no chance of there being a might, he had most certainly done something) to her while she had been unresponsive.

"It will be beautiful," he said, his pale eyes taking in the foundation that had already been completed, the stone walls that were not even halfway erected, the markings for towers. "And it will be formidable."

Curiously, Hermione felt no pain at the sight of her former school and home completely wiped off the land. Her eyes roved over the stone and wood impassively, wondering how many workers he had on the construction. It had to be at least a hundred. She had never seen wizards doing construction and found she was extremely interested in how that might work.

There was the lake, just beyond. The Forbidden Forest. Hagrid's hut was gone, too. The Quidditch pitch was nothing but an oval set into the ground, the seating towers having been razed long ago. She wondered briefly whether he would build another pitch, then realized she didn't really care.

This new school would be a blank slate. Hogwarts and its history was gone. Reduced to nothing but ash, glass, and rock, and the stories that lied between pages of a book few would really care about looking into.

So much of her life was contained between those pages. The good and the bad. She thought of how Malfoy had ruined the castle for her in their time there, how he had fouled not only her nook in the library but their common room as well, and the Great Hall and the dungeons; even the room of requirement. He had turned her second home into a labyrinth of pain.

Here was where this nightmare had begun.

It dawned on her that she was glad to see it gone. The thought should have frightened her, but it didn't.

His hand was on her arm.

"I thought I'd lost you," he whispered, bringing her to him, crushing her with his hug. "To think that it was your magic that almost took you away from me…" he chuckled. "What irony."

"All your own fault," she said.

"Yes," he agreed. "Perhaps I should have curbed your magic from the start rather than trap and enclose it entirely, but how was I to know?"

"Hindsight is a gift," Hermione said. "It's a shame your arrogance keeps you from it most of the time."

He laughed.

"You've got a knife for a tongue, sweetling," he said, grinning, cupping her cheek in his hand. "I've avoided cutting myself thus far, I'm eager to see what the future brings."

She looked away.

"Did Lucio see me at all?"

"No. We told him you went away for a bit and that was all. Don't tell him what happened. He doesn't need to know about this."

She actually agreed, for once. No need to worry him further about something that was out of his control and had already resolved itself.

"We had Healer Lewis come examine you and he had no answers other than to wait it out. The fever ravaged you day by day and I was sick with worry. I didn't know what to do, but once it ended and I realized you weren't in danger of dying, I felt safe enough to leave you for short periods of time," he said, "but I would have waited as long as it took for you to wake. Luckily, my wait wasn't as long as I'd initially feared."

His hands cupped her throat. She looked at him curiously.

"You sound so sure," she said. "But you just said Lewis didn't know how to help."

Draco kissed her, bending his neck to nuzzle at her throat.

"Let me taste you, sweetheart," he said gently. "Now that you're awake again, you must taste divine."

She froze, the implication of his words sinking deep.

"You drank from me while I was unconscious."

He nipped at her throat and she flinched.

"At least I didn't fuck you. Or would you have preferred that instead? I did try to make an effort on that front, sweetheart, believe me. But the night before you woke…Were you conscious at all when you were twisting and moaning in your sleep, begging for my touch? I obliged happily—how could I resist you?"

She pushed him away but he held on to her firmly—she held him at arm's length.

"You said you weren't a vampire."

"I'm not. You saw me in the sun. My reflection is intact, even." He shrugged. "This is the Horcrux's doing, in my opinion, but I'll not question it further. If I hadn't taken your blood I might never have known for sure when you'd come back."

"How often?" She asked, her hands probing her neck cautiously, feeling for any wounds she might not have noticed.

"Every day to track your progress. I healed the wounds, you won't find them."

"What did you mean I was begging for you?" She asked.

"The night before you woke, you were the most active you'd ever been while you were unconscious," Draco said. "Until then, you were stiff as a board and barely moved except to breathe. Then that night, you were moaning in your sleep—I thought the fever had returned so I went to check on you, and found you wanting and wet. I figured it would help you wake up to comply."

The air around them was suddenly still. Her heart pounded.

So had the dream with Harry come about because Draco was already having sex with her body, or had the dream come first and she had been reacting in her sleep enough to catch Draco's attention? Or had they come about spontaneously with no relation to the other? Gooseflesh broke out over her skin. She didn't understand.

It had felt so real. She had felt everything so intensely. Every touch. Every kiss. Every stroke.

The last time she'd had a dream that vivid had been when she had dreamt of her parents receiving Mr. Weasley's letter informing them of her disappearance. She had tried to write it off as a result of her worrying over them. Now she wondered if it had really happened, if she'd had a vision through a dream.

A bead of sweat dotted her temple. She hoped Draco wouldn't notice, that he wouldn't question it.

Harry was dead. He had been for several years now. Why…how could she see and feel him as if he were flesh and blood? Suppose it was her internal desire for him manifesting into that dream. Then why had it not happened before?

Why now?

Dizziness gripped her. She clenched her hand into a loose fist, her thumb tracing the inside of her finger where the ring used to be. Had the removal of the ring played a part in Harry's sudden visitation? Draco had made it to punish anyone who dared to touch her. Had that magic and his obsession bled through into her subconscious somehow to keep Harry from appearing?

Or am I reading too much into a dream?

Had Draco peered into her dream? Did he know who she had dreamt of? The answer had to be no, because his fury would have made itself known at once.

"I don't remember that," she said stiffly at last. If she had known her physical self was reacting to Harry's attentions she would have stopped at once out of fear to Draco's response to them. She thanked her unconscious self for not having uttered Harry's name during the dream.

"That's a pity," Draco said. "I'll relish that memory for some time."

Relish it all you want. It wasn't you I moaned for.

"I should have known it would take more than a kiss to wake you up, Princess," he said, chuckling, coming in closer to grope her bottom.

Hermione looked away.

"If you've fed from me, will that have any effect?" Hermione asked, her stomach twisting. Her hand felt her throat again.

"I've noticed no changes," he said, the slight night breeze ruffling his hair. "My feeding seems to serve no purpose other than satisfying myself."

"I don't like it," she said after a moment. "It's too animalistic, Draco. Even for you."

He was silent for a moment, staring at her.

"Why does my hunger still scare you, sweetling?" He asked, his eyes nearly glowing in the dark. "After all this time?"

She gave him a level stare. "Because you keep pushing it farther."

He approached her slowly and she stood her ground, fighting her flinch when he bent to nuzzle against her throat again, sighing at the warmth that rushed there under her flesh. His hand was pressed against her sternum, measuring her pulse.

"You would deny your Lord husband the right to your blood?" He asked, stroking her skin.

His other hand, still on her bum, slipped lower, pushed into her intimately. A reminder and a threat.

"You know I can take it whenever I want."

And he already had. She had a sudden, gruesome desire to tear him open and steal her blood back. If her attack had given him no pain then she would try again. As many times as it took, even if all it afforded her was merely a gasp of pain from him.

His teeth nibbled softly at her throat. She held her breath.

"How often is your craving?"

"Oftener than you'd like, I'm sure."

"How much do you usually take?"

"That depends but it's usually no more than a glassful."

"I don't believe you."

"Naturally," he said. "But I told you the truth. You can either let me continue to feed from you with your consent or I'll continue to take it regardless."

"If I consent," she began carefully, approaching her next words with caution, "I want to be able to Apparate on my own."

He smiled, his teeth gleaming.

"Are you planning on going somewhere?"

"I miss Apparating on my own," she said. "Plus, if I'm ever in danger or caught by the enemy, how would I escape?"

"You've been able to escape me without the aid of Apparition before. Plus, if you were ever in danger I would stop at nothing to get to you."

"If you want me to be on your side and fight with you, I need to be fully equipped," she said. "Or what if Lucio is ever in danger and you can't get to him?"

He thought on it for a moment. She waited tensely.

"My answer is no for now," he said at last. "You deceived me about Longbottom. I told you I know about the plans you made with him. Pardon me for saying my trust in you has yet to recover. I might change my mind but you're welcome to persuade me into changing it faster."

Hermione held his stare.

"Fine."

It was worth a shot.

"Speaking of Longbottom…"

He offered her his arm again and she took it warily. An owl hooted loudly nearby.

"Where is it?" He asked. "His hideout."

"It's not a hideout," she said. "I don't think it is. It's just a concealed space. I don't think it serves much purpose."

"Then where is this concealed space?"

"At the Burrow."

He frowned. "The what?"

"The Weasley's home," she clarified.

"Fitting name for it," he said, snorting.

He held his hand over her head, muttering a long string of Latin. Hermione felt no change and he offered no explanation when he finished and repeated the process on himself. He gripped her harder and they Apparated away again.

They landed on the front lawn. Hermione looked around, her heart pounding. Draco's hand was still gripping her arm but it loosened and fell away. A stronger wind blew here. Cold, Hermione rubbed at her arms. Draco surveyed the old home with disdain etched across his face.

"Lead me to it," he said.

There was nothing to be done. Hermione steeled herself, walked around the deteriorated tall and narrow house and reached the gate surrounding the backyard. She paused, turning to look at Draco.

"Pansy couldn't see it when we were here," she said. "Only I could. I don't think you'll be able to see it now either unless their wards are down, and I doubt that's the case."

"I could break them down if I wanted to," he said flippantly, his hand touching her back, then sliding up to hold the nape of her neck. "I've been studying wards for a very long time, now."

"You don't say."

He gave her a sly smile.

"Then why don't you?" she asked.

"Why would I raise their alarm before I've even got the intel I came here for? The destruction can wait, Hermione. But if you pull any funny business, al this comes down in an instant. Remember that."

She was still looking to the garden. "I will."

"They sensed you when you entered the space last time."

"Yes. They waited until I was deep enough to appear."

"They won't be able to sense us here now."

"You put protections on us before we came here," she said. "That's what you were doing?"

"Yes. Can't have your little saviors rushing in and spoiling our mission. Now describe it to me."

She hesitated. His hand curled more firmly around her neck.

"You've already betrayed them," he reminded her, breathing into her ear. "There's no going back."

"It's just the garden when you come in," she said. He stood beside her rigidly, his clear eyes intensely fixated on the garden, taking in every detail. "But they've expanded it somehow. You reach a certain point and just keep going. The garden isn't that big—when I was there it eventually turned into a forest and at the end of it was the gravesite."

"Then the graves I see now aren't real?" He asked.

"I don't know," she said. "They might just be illusions to keep you and other enemies away. I didn't think to ask."

He turned to give her a knowing look. "Potter's grave was there."

Her heart skipped a beat. "Yes. Among many others."

"If I'd known they'd mourn him so properly I might have sent them the remnants," he said. "Really, that's the best they could do?"

He was baiting her again. Hermione ignored it, let her anger ebb and flow through her until she was calm again. She took a deep breath quietly.

"What else was there?"

"Nothing. I only saw the graves. Then Luna and Neville came out. I didn't know it was them at first. I tried to run. I thought it was you."

He had let her go and began to walk, circling her slowly.

"And what did they tell you?"

"They told me they had warded the garden to keep you out. They said they've been studying wards as well and that they'd put some up around the Burrow so they could detect anyone who came in, and that they'd been waiting for me."

"What kind of wards?"

"I didn't ask," she said. "But they were able to touch me without the ring taking action."

At that, his eyes narrowed. "And that's why I didn't find out until later."

"Yes."

A smile quirked his lips. "Interesting…" Suddenly, his gaze sharpened on her. "He touched you."

She raised her chin defensively. "I hugged him."

"What difference does it make?" He snapped. "You still broke my rule."

"I am not yours to control any longer," she said through grit teeth. "I will touch who I please."

At that, he chuckled.

"I still have the ring, sweetheart," he said calmly. "Keep in mind that any time you disobey me I will seriously consider forcing it back on you. You might have your magic back but remember you will still obey me."

His eyes flicked toward the garden.

"Go back in there. See if anything's changed."

She looked to the garden then back at him, distrusting.

"I could go in if I wanted," he agreed. "But you've got to do your part. I told you you were going to take down Longbottom. This is where it starts."

Resistance welled in her, mixed with anger.

"What happens if they come again?" She asked coolly.

He approached her quickly, crushed her to him for a rough kiss.

"Then there will be new graves to be added here. Now go."

She entered the garden, steeling herself, his stare heavy on her all the while.

Now that she knew what to expect she felt no surprise when she walked toward the graves, watching them closely as they shimmered slightly, their illusion wavering. The space around her began to expand slowly and she stopped in her tracks to watch it but it stopped as she did and resumed when she began to move again.

How had she not noticed it the first time around? It was an actual sensation, how everything had changed.

Maybe you couldn't sense it because your magic was muted.

It made sense. Now she had it back, her nerves tingled at passing through the wards. It was like her own magic was responding to the magic already here.

After she had passed the wards she looked back to the direction in which she'd come.

She couldn't see the garden or Draco over the fence. It was like she had walked several miles in only a few steps.

This might have been another test. Maybe Draco was counting on Neville or Luna to come and try to save her to test her loyalty.

As much as she wanted to see Neville again, she fervently hoped Draco's counter-spell had worked and that neither of them would be sensed here. She would be in and out.

She walked in silence, dreading what might happen. Draco's watchful eye had been cut off some distance ago but curiously, she still felt watched. She took her wand from the pocket of her robe and clasped it tightly in one hand.

When the path led her to the gravesite, it was just as it had been previously. She stood before them, suddenly not wanting to come any closer.

It had been about a month since her visit here. How much had happened between then and this visit…

Gooseflesh rose along her arms. She rubbed at them, peering over her shoulder, and held out her wand.

"Homenum revelio."

There was nobody around. That settled her nerves a little.

Could it be Draco still watching?

No. His stare was always like a weight on her. This felt different, and she began to wonder if Neville had set up a different sort of surveillance on this area.

She looked up, frowning, trying to reach out with her magic to sense anything amiss. She wasn't as studied as Draco in wards so she wasn't sure what to look for.

Nothing.

Quickly, before she lost confidence, she magicked a large flat stone from a short distance away and embedded it into the ground so that it stood as tall as the others.

She raised her wand higher, frowning in concentration, taking pains to be precise as her arm moved.

It felt so good to use magic again, even for the simplest things. Nevermind the fact that each time she was about to use it she found herself with the long-ingrained fear that it would do nothing, thanks to Draco.

When she lowered it, the engraving on the stone still flared red from the heat of her wand, but cooled an instant later.

Danielle, the stone read.

I don't know her last name.

It would have to do.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly, still feeling watched.

A gentle breeze blew around her.

She looked around again.

"I don't know if you can hear me," she began slowly. "Something tells me you can."

Trees rustled softly around her, as if encouraging her to go on.

She looked down at her wand.

"I got my magic back," she continued. "But I paid a price. You've probably heard what I did by now."

A tear trickled down her cheek and she wiped it away quickly.

"They would have given her to Crabbe. It doesn't excuse what I did. But I couldn't condemn anybody else to a fate like mine."

Her hands gripped at the loose, roughly-woven material of her robe. She felt a broken fingernail snag on the fabric and impatiently yanked it loose. The tip of her fingernail tore off and fell onto the floor.

"I warned you something like this would happen. He'll corrupt me to keep me on his side. I'm only doing enough to increase my chances of escape but he always wants more and even with my magic back I can barely fight back. Don't come for me. I couldn't keep this secret from him—he knows about this place and he's outside the Burrow right now waiting for me, and he isn't in the mood for negotiating."

The wind blew stronger. She raised her voice.

"I don't know if I'll be allowed here again. If I try to contact you, he'll know. Don't come for me. I'll figure this out on my own."

She turned and left quickly, unable to bear the sight of the grave markers any longer.

The wind continued to rustle at the greenery around the little clearing of the magicked forest. As the leaves moved a tiny light on a small, cleverly hidden Muggle surveillance camera blinked red from where it had been stationed inside of a shrub.

When they arrived back at the Manor Lucio had already been put to bed and Pansy waited on them at the front door.

"Shall I warm up your dinners?" Pansy asked.

"Yes," Draco said. On seeing Hermione's look of disagreement he cut her off before she could speak.

"You need to eat something, Hermione. You've had nothing but liquids all this time."

Their meals were served and ready for them on the table when they entered the dining room. Draco held out a chair for Hermione and then sat down once she was seated.

"So," he began, grabbing his fork and knife, looking at her expectantly. "What did you find?"

"Nothing," she said, taking a drink of water. She met his eye. "There was nothing new or different. I saw nobody there."

"The graves were all still there?"

"Yes."

"And you're sure there was nothing else there?"

"Yes. It's just a gravesite, Draco. There was no sign of them staying there before and there was no sign of it now."

"I have to be thorough, sweetheart."

They ate in silence and when done, retreated to the bedroom.

There was a knock at the door, and Pansy entered.

"My Lord," she said, bowing. "Healer Lewis has arrived."

"Send him in," Draco replied.

Hermione looked at him curiously.

"You need to be examined," he said gently. "You're awake, but I won't take any risks if whatever hurt you is still inside you."

Footsteps trailed up to the door and Hermione looked up to see Healer Lewis standing there, wand in one hand, his kit in the other, his robes draped over a bent arm.

He bowed.

"My Lord, my Lady," he said. "Good evening."

"Come in and close the door," Draco said.

Lewis obeyed. Hermione watched him carefully.

Healer Lewis was a man she had met time and time again although she had not always been conscious enough to remember every occasion. He had delivered Lucio and had given her potions to heal properly afterward. He had treated her on several occasions after Draco's beatings, before Pansy had come to work for them. Pansy could heal bruises and cuts but she could not mend fractured bones, and that happened to be something Healer Lewis was very good at. He was friendly and professional, and she supposed she ought to trust him by now judging by the amount of times he had healed her, but she could never shake the fact that he was employed by Draco and by now had to know the awful extent of their relationship, and still chose to work for her husband.

Then again, she wouldn't have been surprised in the least if Draco had him under some sort of threat.

"It is good to see you awake, my Lady," Healer Lewis said, setting his kit down on the floor.

She nodded.

"She awoke naturally this morning," Draco said.

"Did you? Would you please sit down, my Lady?"

An examination. She'd had plenty of those in the years past. And always under Draco's scrutinous eye. This man, however professional he might be, had tended to her unconscious self many times over. Healer, he might be, and the occasions warranted, but she didn't like the thought of it.

Hermione bit her tongue and sat stiffly on the armchair.

"Do you remember what happened before you fell unconscious?" Healer Lewis asked.

"Draco took my ring off," she said. "And my magic came back."

Draco went to stand beside her, stroked her cheek.

"You were in pain. You said it was too much."

"It was," she said. "It overwhelmed me. I couldn't handle it."

"It was tearing you apart," Draco added, his voice slightly bitter.

"How painful was it, my Lady?" Lewis asked. He approached and wordlessly indicated he was going to begin the examination. Hermione nodded and he stepped closer, ran his wand along her form, frowning in concentration. She had found herself holding her breath, ready to flinch in pain at the streak of pain Draco's ring would surely deliver once Lewis touched her, and then froze, remembering it was gone.

"I could hardly speak," Hermione replied. "I thought it would go away quickly but it didn't stop. It felt like burning. I think I went into shock."

Lewis nodded, carefully lifting her arm to scan it, then the other. Blue wisps emerged from his wand but he seemed to be searching for something else. He didn't find it. He lowered his wand and straightened, summoned a thermometer from his kit. Hermione wanted to sigh in frustration.

"You were unconscious for a fortnight," he said, reading the temperature. It was normal. He stowed the thermometer away. "Your body was very rigid and your fever lasted over a week. You have lost a considerable amount of weight from the last time I saw you, my lady. I feared it would not stop."

Hermione looked down at herself, mildly surprised. No wonder Pansy and Draco had insisted on her eating. She had been too preoccupied to notice.

Healer Lewis now bent on one knee before her, holding his wand aloft, and with another gesture indicated he was going to conduct another examination. Hermione stared straight ahead as he shined a light into one eye, then the other, instructing her to look this way and that. Finding nothing amiss again, he stood.

"May I take your pulse, my Lady?"

She offered her wrist and he took it, holding it for a minute to count her heartbeats. He finished and let her go.

"That you went into shock is reasonable considering you were not prepared that my Lord would give back your magic so easily. Rather, I wonder why the fever should occur. To last so long and yet you exhibited no other symptoms of illness…and then none of my potions alleviated it." Lewis shook his head. "It raises more questions than I can answer."

"What if the magic was the fever?" Hermione asked, frowning. "There's no other reason why medical potions couldn't cure a simple fever."

"An interesting theory," Lewis said slowly. "I have never heard of magic reacting in such a manner so it is difficult to come to a conclusion. Why would it eat (for lack of a better word) at you in the guise of a fever? In the cases of magical folk who unintentionally unleash magic, it is fleeting and radiates outward. Why would it go inward?"

"It did both," Draco said, his eyes on the stained glass window. "She shattered that window there."

"Fascinating." Healer Lewis hesitated. "Have you used magic much today since waking, my Lady?"

Exposed gore. Blood pouring from Draco's abdomen. The sound of ripping flesh. She knew with certainty that Draco was smirking even though she couldn't see his face. She pictured the handmade grave marker she had inscribed.

"Yes."

"How did it feel?"

"Easy," she said. "I didn't have to try hard."

"Would you try again please, my Lady?" Lewis asked. "Something different, if you please."

She summoned her wand, pointed it toward the bed, and concentrated, muttered a spell.

They waited. Hermione's stomach sank. She closed her eyes and concentrated harder.

There was a spark, then an audible woosh. The bed burst into flames that reached the ceiling.

Draco's stared at the flames impassively, his eyes alight with their intensity. Lewis staggered backward.

She ended it swiftly, settling more comfortably into her seat as if nothing had just happened.

Lewis stared at her. There was fear in his eyes.

"I believe that should answer your question," Draco said to Healer Lewis. "We will continue this another time. Pansy will see you out."

When Lewis was gone and Draco had cleared the smoke from the room and restored the bed, Hermione was still seated, holding her wand.

"You'll have to become less reliant on that," Draco said, gesturing to it.

"Why?"

"It's easier to do magic wandlessly."

"I don't care," Hermione said, clutching the wand more tightly. "If I want to use my wand after being kept from it for so long, that's my prerogative."

He sighed. "If you insist. But I would still have Pansy train you in wandless magic."

She stood, and her wand was taken from her hand and floated into Draco's waiting palm. He set it down on the night table.

"See how handy it can be?"

She glared.

He helped her undress, his hands roaming over her skin.

"Were you telling the truth when you said you didn't have sex with me while I was asleep?" She asked.

"Yes," he said, his voice coming in a soft rush of breath along the nape of her neck. "I only touched you on the last day, when you wanted me to."

She nodded, a hidden weight slipping from her shoulders. At the same time, he had unzipped her gown and it pooled to the floor. He took a chunk of her hair in one hand and moved it away from her neck, stepping in closer from behind her, kissing her shoulder.

Hermione looked down at herself, gauging how much thinner she looked. She could see her ribs and hip bones more clearly than ever before. Shock bent her brow.

How much did I lose?

She hadn't had time to inspect herself at all since she had woken. No wonder Draco and Pansy had been so worried.

"You didn't use a contraceptive spell earlier."

His hand gripped a breast, thumbed at her nipple. "What of it?"

"Fix it now, my Lord," she said, her heart beating fast. "Please."

He nipped at her skin. "I told you I wanted more children from you, wife. Let it be."

"No," she said, struggling against him. "I don't want it."

"Let it be, Hermione."

She summoned her wand.

"I'll do it, then."

He flicked his hand to the side and her wand skittered from her hand, falling to the floor.

"I think not."

He pushed her onto the bed, straddled her, catching her wrists in each hand.

"First you would deny me your blood, now you'd deny me another heir. You've grown rather bold, sweetling. If you want your ring back so quickly, I'll oblige you."

"Now isn't the time, Draco!"

"It's the perfect time," he hissed into her ear. "I could have lost you. I decided I wouldn't leave it for a second longer. You'll take my seed until you're carrying another heir. We'll build an empire, you and I."

"One son should be enough for you!"

"You don't see how bored he is by himself?" Draco asked. "He'd benefit from company closer to his age and you know it."

"You're not going to manipulate me into agreeing." She raised her hand, tearing it from his grip. Her talons had returned and she moved to strike.

Draco's eyes flashed. Her arm halted in mid-air, her talons gone as quickly as they had come.

She glared. Draco leaned in closer.

"Save your fires, little bird," he reminded her, his voice low. His eyes were venomous. "I am not in the mood."

He brushed a tear from her cheek.

"Remember that I don't need your consent," he warned as his hand traveled down her body. "Speaking of which, you should know that I finished your Horcrux for you while you were unconscious."

She froze for a second as she absorbed the news.

She felt no surprise. Just rage. It was exactly the kind of thing he would do—and apparently had—done. To take advantage of her unconsciousness in such a way had her seething.

It was too late. He was always one step ahead.

"I knew something felt off," she whispered, her nostrils flaring. "I told you I didn't want one, husband. Let me open up your chest again to make it clear to you just how happy I am by this news."

Draco laughed gently. His hand cupped her mound, playing with the soft curls there.

"I told you I'd take no risks after I thought I almost lost you."

He pushed her thighs apart farther, settling comfortably between them. His cock was erect, dripping precum.

"Look at me," she said urgently. "I'm in no state to have another child. I need to recover, Draco. Give me time."

He paused.

She was breathing quickly in both fear and anger, and seeing his uncertainty, pounced.

"Did you even research to see if one can still conceive after making a Horcrux?"

He bent down to kiss her deeply, his tongue sliding against hers. He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against hers as he pushed inside her slowly, then lost patience and rushed the rest in in one sharp thrust. She gasped.

"There's no other way to find out than by trying."

She rolled away from him, moving to get off the bed when he caught her by the arm.

"What," she said dully.

Silently, he pressed his hand to her lower abdomen and cast a contraceptive spell.

Hermione felt relief sweep through her.

"Thank you, my Lord."

"Once you're recovered, this stops," he said. "And I won't have any more protests from you."

She said nothing, holding his stare until he settled an arm under his pillow and fell asleep. She went to the bathroom and locked herself into it.

The next morning Hermione rose before Draco. The morning sky was gray. She had stretched and moved to roll off the bed when Draco's arms pulled her back, startling her.

He breathed in deeply, yawning, and kissed her shoulder, then let her go.

Gratefully, Hermione rushed to wash up and change and left the room as quickly as possible.

The grass was cold under her bare feet. She clutched her shawl around herself more tightly, her wand grasped in one hand. A cool and heavy mist hung in the air. The scent of lavender carried through the air and she breathed it in deeply, trying to fill her lungs.

When she had got a far enough distance from the manor, she stopped, turned to make sure Draco or Pansy had not followed her.

She stepped under the protective cover of a tree and raised her wand. She thought hard.

"Expecto Patronum."

A silvery mist emanated weakly from her wand. It flickered and could not take shape.

She grasped at another memory and tried again.

"Expecto Patronum."

It produced the same result.

She thought of herself, Harry and Ron, their happiest moments together. She thought of herself and Harry. She thought of her first train ride to Hogwarts. Of her parents. Of Lucio.

She tried again. And again. And again.

The otter never took form.

She had expected as much.