Author's note: Thank you all for being so patient while I got my life together (sort of) and FINALLY finished this chapter! It went much differently in my head than what is on paper... but such is life.

Your kind words, comments, and predictions are so thoughtful, and I cannot thank you enough for taking the time to enjoy this story with me! Keep the comments and predictions and critiques coming :D They help me see where I am, and where I need to be going with the story.

Finally, I can't give enough praise and thanks to MCal and In Dreams for taking time out of their busy lives to give feedback on this story. Without them, The Alliance would not even be close to what it is now. If you haven't checked out their works yet, GO NOW! They are both fantastically gifted, creative authors.

The next chapter update will be at the beginning of November (And spoiler alert, it's my favorite chapter yet!) In the meantime, take a moment to check out my Tumblr. I'll be posting some mood boards and aesthetics with hints from Chapter 7.

Until then my lovelies,
AMJohnson0518

Chapter 6
I Saw You in the Water

I been alone so long
I feel like I'm on the run
Lover come over
kick up the dust
I got a secret
Starting to rust
She said I'm looking like a bad man
Smooth criminal
She said my spirit doesn't move like it did before
She said that I don't look like me no more

-Cringe, Matt Maeson

0oo0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Lucius would have been displeased to learn that Draco had tampered with the Floo access into Malfoy Castle. Certainly, Draco trusted Hermione far more than his own blood, though, that fact went unshared with the curly-haired witch. What was most important now was that he had ignored the expressed wishes of his father all so that his future wife could travel comfortably between her homes. With the changing of the wards, he had solidified his allegiance.

Outside the political ramifications of his decision, it made perfect sense to perform the cleansing at Malfoy Castle; the thought of soaking in the freshly brewed potion, naked together in a communal bath in Hogwarts, was appalling. And so, when he offered the ritual to be done in the privacy of his home, Hermione agreed so quickly there was no time to hide the smile that escaped his ironclad emotional control.

Leading the timid woman through the threshold of the fireplace and into their future suite at the Malfoy estate, he outstretched his hand before her.

"Have a look," Draco silkily commanded.

Unsteadily, Hermione stepped into the grandiose, Victorian styled room. The floors were a rich mahogany, covered in places by lavish dark sage carpets. She felt overwhelmed by the opulence; valor drapery, deep golden chandeliers, and ornate furniture emphasized the sheer wealth of the Malfoy family.

With hands clasped firmly behind his back, Draco keenly watched her wander further into the room.

First, she inspected the windows, noting the balcony facing an endless field of wheat - her future kingdom, she nearly laughed. Had circumstances been different, she may have enjoyed the serene view.

Only when her eyes fluttered over the tall bookshelves that marked the parlor area did Draco break the crisp silence.

"Your bedroom is through that door," he said brusquely. "I thought it best to give you space while you adjust to your new home. You have your own bathroom, of course. It's smaller than mine, but you are free to use anything within this room- it all belongs to you after we are bonded."

"To us," Hermione corrected firmly, meeting Draco's eyes with contempt. "None of this actually belongs to me."

"You'll be a Malfoy. Nothing of mine will be out of your reach. I think that makes it yours, don't you?" Draco wryly asked. Secretly, the sound of us pleased him, scratching the impossible itch that had planted itself within him years ago. Nevertheless, he knew Hermione was using the phrase to make a statement; she would no longer be her own, and she was decidedly bitter about it.

"Hm," she clicked her tongue against her cheek and brushed past Draco into the sitting room. The rising tension within her was taut, close to snapping. Noting the bar full of liquors she hadn't laid eyes on in years, she felt the sudden urge to drink; inebriation could only make the cleansing easier, she thought miserably.

Following the longing in her eyes, Draco scoffed. "Granger, I'm afraid we should remain sober to discuss the contract."

The condescension laced in his words caused a prickling sensation at the base of her neck. Numb with fear, she stood in the center of the ostentatious room. Regardless of what the contract would read, in Malfoy Castle, surrounded by dark artifacts, she was never to be more than an outsider; a stranger bound to a deceptive husband.

Straightening his posture, which had slouched at the sight of her steeled expression, Draco opened the door to the master bedroom. Adorned with a posh, four-poster frame, the bed was neatly made with a plush duvet over black silk sheets; seduction leaked from the fibers of the decor.

Thoughts of her wild curls splayed upon ruffled silk sheets tore at his racing heart. His nerves were balancing on needles. Given the murderous look she shot at him as she walked past, however, his dreams of sharing this room felt far removed.

Boldly, he placed his fingers lightly against the small of her back, and gently guided her toward the bathroom. "What do you think?"

The anxiety in his tone gave her pause.

"It's...well, it truly is lovely," she answered honestly, albeit reluctantly, ignoring the heat of his fingertips. Blue orbs flashed their approval, and his signature smirk settled once more on his face.

"If there is anything else you wish to have, I will try my best to accommodate you," he replied huskily.

Hermione deadpanned, utterly confused by the near warmth suddenly churning in Draco's eyes. The poison of her own anxiety created a stiffness in her shoulders. "You're being awfully nice for someone who referred to me as a know-it-all mudblood for nearly all of my formative years."

The muscles of his face tightened at the threat in her tone, and he glared unabashedly through his scowl.

"Would you rather I revert back to acting like a child?" Draco sneered.

"It's preferable to your attempts at manipulation of me."

Removing his hand from her back, his lips twitched angrily, and he stayed silent for a long moment. Any pleasant energy remaining from their day together disappeared. Sharpened glares clawed at one another.

"Can we get on with this?" Draco finally whispered acidically. "I'd rather not waste the rest of my day with such obviously useless efforts."

"Don't pretend like you're doing any of this for my benefit," Hermione challenged haughtily, her hand vaguely motioning to the luxurious decorum as her chest rose in agitated huffs. "The only reason you wish to renegotiate the contract is for you and whatever your goals are."

"Despite how you may feel about our arrangement, I'm not a monster who wants you to suffer," Draco growled with a ferocity that brought back memories of potions classes at Hogwarts, and taunts yelled down the old hallways. Shame fed his anger, and his cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he thought of their sordid past.

"I don't believe that to be true," she maliciously disagreed, but even as the words left her lips, she felt uncertain. Glancing over at the empty bed, she swallowed a lump in her throat, forcing her nerves deeper into her chest.

"For someone so interested in change, you're fucking terrible at recognizing it," Draco seethed, the rage in his voice was on the precipice of unfurling from its resting place within his chest. He took a deep breath and then released the air slowly past his lips.

He ran a hand through his hair, a habit, Hermione recognized as a telltale sign of his frustration. His hardened eyes were ablaze with an emotion she could not quite place. "Look, Granger, I know this isn't ideal-"

Interrupting him with an unnecessarily loud scoff, Hermione crossed her arms and bit the inside of her cheek. "Oh, you think?" She seethed sarcastically, thinking of the hour each day that would be spent with Malfoy, absorbing the potion through their pores to clear their magical channels of impurities that could hinder the bonding.

Draco's strong voice pulled her from her musings. "You think I want to bathe with you, unwilling as you are? This isn't exactly comfortable for me either."

According to her reading the prior night, cleansing rituals were not an uncommon practice, but this one required blood and a longer than usual soaking time as a precursor to the bonding.

"Have you considered that this isn't necessary? Cleansing," she let the word roll languidly off her tongue. "It sounds like a medieval attempt to force us to atone for the perceived sin of lust before marriage." Past trying to sound civil, her voice turned horribly shrill, even to her own ears.

"Have you considered it's so we don't destroy our magic at the time of our bonding, just as the original texts explain?" He remarked in a tone that revealed he thought her daft.

"Rest assured I did my research, Malfoy," Hermione countered sharply. "It just seems entirely excessive. Magical channels don't need to be purged."

"Would you risk your magic on that assumption?" A pale eyebrow quirked upwards in protest, and he lowered his eyes to meet hers.

Angrily sighing, she shook her head. "No, I suppose not. Sorry, I'm just-" she groaned. How did she feel? It was a means to an end, like Draco had said countless times; a way to change the Realm. One day, it might make her proud, to have endured for the sake of the world. "I don't want to do this," she revealed, "and I can't find a way out."

A soft pang of regret worked its way into his hardened heart, and smoothed the edges of his anger. "We're in this together," Draco said at last in a softened voice. Comforting others was unfamiliar but the slight thawing of copper eyes reassured him his words did in fact still mean something to her. Turning, he opened the door to the master bathroom. "Let's get on with it."

The bathroom felt soothing with its dark tile, and white marble. The clawed tub, so large it could easily fit four grown wizards, sat innocuously in the middle of the room.

Rolling up his sleeves, Draco approached the tub and turned on the water.

The incessant tapping of Hermione's foot against the stone tile echoed against the marble. "I thought you were in desperate need of water?"

"This occasion necessitates our use of the supplies, and besides," he flashed her a sinister grin, "what's yours is now mine. Water should no longer be my concern." He motioned for her to step closer. "Granger, I need your blood."

At the sight of the jet black blade Draco produced from his robes, she could feel the pulsating liquid flowing beneath her skin. For a moment she thought he would draw her blood first, but instead, he dragged the blade along the tip of his thumb. Blood, so valued for its purity it had caused wars, dripped into the water.

"Would you like to do this yourself?" Draco asked. "I don't much like the thought of causing you to bleed."

Hermione's eyebrows furrowed, and she tilted her head slightly, but Draco ignored her curious stare and softly placed the knife into her open palm.

Before her body had a chance to protest, she sliced through her skin; the sting of the blade was instantaneous. Like Draco, each droplet of blood tumbled beautifully through the water, feathering out in wisps. Cringing, she watched her blood, considered impure and weak, mix seamlessly with Draco's.

By the time he shut the water off, the air had thickened with steam.

Reaching into his robes, he removed a vial of the potion and handed it to Hermione. The awkwardness she felt did not appear to be shared by Malfoy; his steady hand and unwavering gaze betrayed none of his emotions.

In a tone that Hermione did not have the capacity to analyze, he breathed out through the thick air, "I'll close my eyes while you disrobe. Let me know when you're comfortable for me to join."

Layer by layer, her clothing piled listlessly around her feet. Not bothering to fold them - she had larger concerns to attend - she tentatively stepped away from the discarded clothes and toward the bath. Gingerly uncapping the vial, she spilled its contents into the steaming tub.

The water foamed a lovely lavender color, releasing an aroma of crisp wildflowers and sandalwood, a scent she was quite fond of, and one she had not had the pleasure of smelling since before the disaster.

When at last she waved her wand over the pool of water, whispering the incantation to activate the cleansing, she became hyper-aware of her naked body and its proximity to Malfoy. The cool air caused her skin to prick in small goosebumps.

"Everything alright, Granger?" Draco's concern laced voice nearly caused her to slip on the tile.

"Fine. Just another moment," she responded haughtily.

Casting soft ripples as her feet dipped into the hot water, Hermione sunk below the foam. The potion felt luxurious against her skin; she could not remember the last time she had the fortune to feel bubbles coating her body. She bit back a moan of pleasure.

With a last glance to ensure the bubbles were properly covering all her necessary bits, she whispered, "I'll close my eyes now."

She placed her hands delicately over her eyes but still squeezed them shut for good measure. She heard his soft footsteps against the tile, and the harrumph of his clothes hitting the floor. Even with eyes tightly closed, she heard the confidence of his steps, and the easy way he walked into the warm water.

The bubbles shifted around her, the water rising ever so slightly with the newly added weight.

Draco's deep voice broke the strained pause."Granger, you can open your eyes."

Though she removed her hands from her face, her eyelids remained tightly shut.

The vibration of Draco's dark chuckle carried through the water, where it lapped against her skin. "Is the temperature alright for you? Your cheeks are quite flushed."

She nodded tentatively.

"Are you a virgin?"

Flabbergasted, her eyes ferociously blinked open and her mouth moved for a few seconds before words finally formed. "What in the bloody hell gives you the right to ask me-"

Hermione froze. His hair was wet against his face, the drops cascading down onto his well-formed shoulders. An arm was slung casually around the edge of the tub, eyes shining with playful abandon, and surprisingly, a touch of trepidation. The mixture of vulnerability and his hooded gaze was as potent as any potion, and she gulped in a short breath.

He hummed at the feel of her eyes on his skin. "You act as though you've never seen a naked man."

"I've seen plenty," Hermione sniffed in indignation, but her eyes suddenly found interest in anything but the man in front of her. His foot grazed hers under the water, and she let out a startled yelp.

At least he had the audacity to look embarrassed at the unsolicited touch.

"Sorry" Draco murmured tightly. "Don't forget to lower your head under the water."

With a sigh, she dipped her curls beneath the warm water, careful not to disrupt the bubble barrier floating over her breasts. When she emerged, she noticed Draco's eyes were pointed toward the ceiling and she almost smirked; she wasn't the only one affected by the fear of shifting waters.

Silence stretched endlessly across the short length of the bath.

"You can't go quiet on me now," Draco teased stiffly. "We need to have the new arrangement drafted for approval from Kingsley and my Father."

She shifted uncomfortably, which consequently made a sloshing sound as her movement rippled the water. "Where do you want to begin?"

"We have some leeway with the date of the wedding, but, given the circumstances surrounding the bonding ritual, I think it's important we know when you are fertile this month."

Hermione choked on air and sputtered ungracefully. "I am not having this discussion," Hermione seethed.

"Remember, we can't use any other magic during the ceremony, including fertility potions or charms." Not one to miss an opportunity to make her squirm, Draco's mouth curled into a suggestive smile. "Eager to have my children, Granger?"

Now, Hermione felt, was a perfect time to drown. Warm water did not stop the chill that raced down her spine.

"You loathsome, vile... " but she mentally began counting the days since her last menstruation.

"I recommend early next-"

"Ten days should suffice. Since this will only be happening once, we should be covered against any accidents. I won't be producing a Malfoy heir-"

"You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with," Draco interrupted. "My father removed that particular requirement from the contract."

"Of course," Hermione bared her teeth in mild disgust. "Lucius could hardly want a grandchild of such lowly breeding."

He cringed, though he couldn't disagree. "You're not wrong," Draco replied reluctantly. "Regardless, it's something you just admitted to not wanting, so why bother to complain?"

Perturbed by his logic, Hermione rolled her eyes and leaned back so the curve of her neck was exposed and her face was upturned toward the ceiling. "How will you continue the Malfoy line?"

A flush erupted across Draco's pale skin. "It's not uncommon for pure-blooded men to take mistresses if his wife is barren. Just because you're uncomfortable with the prospect of a bonded marriage does not mean I will give up my duties completely."

"I'm not comfortable signing a document when I can't for the life of me figure out why you would go through so much trouble for a bonded alliance," Hermione grieved, still flustered by his cryptic secrets.

"Just as you find me to be untrustworthy, I find you to be as well," Draco explained plainly, in a tone even a child would be offended by.

"I'm not the one hiding anything. Your possible motivations frighten me. Kingsley frightens me. Your father frightens me. This," her hand splashed as it lifted the bubbles out of the water, "this frightens me."

The soft tone of her cracking voice forced a tightening in Draco's chest. Suppressing the urge to explain, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, releasing his guilt into the steam. "We can discuss my motivations once you've signed. Know that my intention is not to hurt you."

"A politicians answer," she goaded.

"Quite frankly, Granger, before we are married, it is none of your business," he said with clipped precision, his patience again waning. "As far as I'm concerned, you're a member of the Order, and until I am given assurance you cannot harm me, it does me no favors to acquiesce your request. Be grateful I'm allowing you time to negotiate at all, or else you may have been pregnant by months end."

"Malfoy, the moment you sign the contract today, only death will do us part. If you mean to cause me harm, I want to know."

Hazy steam clouded Draco's piercing eyes. "Do you really think so poorly of me? Even after all these years."

"You've given me no reason to trust you. You yourself told me not to. I'm many things, Malfoy, but a fool will never be one."

"I can't cause you harm once we are bound."

"Not physically," Hermione hissed. "I want it written in the contract that you, nor your family, will be able to cause me harm...not intentionally.

Exasperated, Draco rolled his eyes. "If we must, but it's redundant. This bond was chosen specifically because of what it does for us."

"And what exactly is that?"

" It protects against cross breed binding, it gives us access to each other's power, and it prevents us from hurting one another. I'm giving you freedom to pursue your political desires."

"Yes, all the foundations of a proper marriage," she sarcastically shot back.

"You do understand that under the terms of the bond, should you not at least attempt to be open to our marriage, you'll destroy us and any chance we have at changing the current status quo."

Forced into silence by the truth of his words, Hermione slumped deeper into the water, closing her eyes. "This hasn't been done for ages, how can we be certain of anything the bond promises?"

Draco dragged his fingers through wet hair and pushed his chin out slightly. "We can't. But my great-great-grandparents performed the ritual, and their parents before them. A Malfoy would never do something so rash."

Noticing Hermione's deep frown, he rolled his eyes upwards. "What else can I do to alter the contract so you feel more secure?"

She had thought long on this exact question the night before. "I want wards on this room- no one should have access to it that I do not approve."

Draco nodded seriously at the request. "Done. What else?"

"I want my friends to be able to visit me freely. Both Harry and Ron, at the very least," Hermione added when she saw Draco scowl.

Draco groaned. "Fine, but please respect my need to see them as little as possible."

Hermione nearly stuck her tongue out, but her desire to keep civil won out. "Fine," she heaved.

"And?" Draco pressed, knowing the Gryffindor did not simply have two requests.

She prattled on about house-elf rights for a considerable time, and then about the rights of the indentured servants. In spite of the tension that enveloped them, Draco remained largely silent as he listened to her needs.

When his fingers had begun to prune, Draco paused to consider his mental list of changes she requested. "It surprises me, Granger, that after our discussion yesterday you've added not one stipulation regarding your own power."

Much to Draco's chagrin, Hermione bit her lip again and blinked her lashes slowly. Under the foam, his loins stirred.

Softly, Hermione replied, "I don't know where to begin with that."

"You want our servants better fed and paid, but you get nothing in return for that," Draco mused. Unreasonable as it was, he admired her resolve to fight for others.

"I'm not removing it," Hermione quickly disagreed.

Holding up his hands in surrender, Draco responded cautiously, "All I'm saying is that you get nothing in return."

Hermione's eyebrows knitted together as she puzzled over how to alter this particular requirement to be more beneficial to her goals. There were many problems that plagued the Realm of the Order, and her mind fluttered across the most urgent.

Her voice was barely a whisper when she said, "Many at Hogwarts wander aimlessly through the day. There are far too many people," she revealed carefully.

Leaning forward, Draco clenched his jaw to hide his smirk. "And?" He questioned slowly.

"To alleviate your need to overwork those who work for the Realm of the Death Eaters, I'd like to propose opening up farm work to the Realm of the Order. Having more help could eliminate exhaustion. Those working should not only get additional food rations but coin as well."

"And?" He pressed, grey eyes sparkling with mischief.

"And…" Hermione huffed out a long breath, "-and I want the authority to speak at Realm of the Death Eater meetings."

"Now you've gotten it, darling." Draco smiled wickedly, the action brightening his face. "Brilliance is your best weapon," he whispered demurely. "Never give anything without something in return."

She gnashed her teeth together. "That's selfish."

"That's politics," Draco shrugged. "You'll learn it's important to your survival here. Anything more?"

Through narrowed eyes, she shook her head with a frown. "I suppose not… though you haven't said anything about your own wants."

"You've given me everything I need," Draco smirked darkly, and he shifted in the water before she could ask any more questions. "Time's up."

Leaning forward, he gracefully stood, revealing the defined muscles of his chest that led down into a sharp cut of his hips. Unprepared to see any more, Hermione let out a small squeal and pressed her palms against her eyes.

"Draco!" She hissed.

The soft timbre of his laughter momentarily enchanted her. "One down, six more to go," Draco whispered as he left her alone in the bath.

Only when she heard the click of the bathroom door did Hermione peek out beneath her fingertips. Emerging from the water, she stepped a toe on the warmed, impossibly soft bath matt. The effects of the potion were tangible; her breathing felt heavy, but her body was weightless. Whatever effect the potion had, it felt far too pleasant for Hermione to enjoy. Her legs pressed together with a small shiver.

Once dressed, she shuffled into the parlor only to find Draco still wrapped in his robe, writing on the parchment she recognized as the original contract.

Gruffly, he cleared his throat, and Hermione's eyes snapped from his still dripping hair to his face. "I added in the new timeline for our marriage. We will wed in ten days," Draco softly informed her. The fear in her eyes elicited a clench in his stomach that was far too familiar.

"And the allowances for the servants? Their increase in food and wages?"

"All accounted for," Draco replied, his long fingers pointing to the passage that she requested.

Delicate hands brushed his arm as she reached for the contract; the flush that appeared on Draco's cheeks surprised her. Momentarily ignoring his reaction, she turned her focus on the parchment, reading every word carefully.

"This looks fine," she begrudgingly announced.

"Excellent. I will get properly dressed and we will take this to my father."

"We?" Hermione gulped.

"Yes. Do you trust him alone with the contract?"

Resigned, she vehemently shook her head. "I'll wait here for you."

The dress robes and shined leather shoes Draco changed into made Hermione feel inadequate; the holes in her sweater were hardly appropriate alone in the comfort of her room, nevermind in front of her future father-in-law. Walking down the halls of Malfoy Castle, Hermione knew she would need to revisit her wardrobe before becoming a member of the Malfoy family.

As expected, Lucius instantly noticed her drab appearance when she stepped into his office; his eyes peered mercilessly up and down her body, disgust marring his features.

"Miss Granger," he said with a small nod, not bothering to stand from his desk. "Are you finally satisfied?"

Red cheeks gave away her embarrassment. With a bitterness that would make Professor Snape proud, she quipped, "I don't think I'll ever be. But at a minimum, this will suffice."

Draco stepped in front of her at the sight of his father's piercing gaze, and he placed the open parchment down on the desk. Not interested in saying anything more, Lucius raised his brow in much the same manner Hermione had seen Draco do countless times. His grey eyes scanned the document with meticulous deliberation.

The scowl that expanded across the Malfoy patriarch's face was expected, though, it still caused Hermione's heart to seize. "Unlike you, we are more careful about who is given access to Malfoy Castle," Lucius patronized. "I will not freely allow Mr. Potter nor a Weasley, onto the property."

"I assure you, they are harmless," Hermione scoffed.

"Have you forgotten their history with the Death Eaters?" Lucius stressed with agitation. "It will be bad enough you are here."

Fighting against her urge to shrink away, she lifted her chin. "I thought we were starting a new beginning for relationships between our Realms?" Hermione dissented.

"Members of the Order will not be permitted into the Castle without my knowledge!" Lucius angrily lashed. "Furthermore, your request to have citizens of your Realm tend to our crops is a travesty. We already provide enough to our own laborers. I see no need to expand our operation." Lucius fixated his glare at his son. "What are your thoughts, Draco?" Lucius said, analyzing his son's unreadable features.

Draco shifted his weight, and in a tone cold enough to rival his father began speaking slowly. "Father, extra assistance on the farms will turn over a larger profit, of which will counter the losses from providing servants wages," Draco determined. "Although, I believe we will still acquire more gold from the additional production."

Hermione's face tightened. Unknowingly, she handed Draco a win with her request, and she watched him suspiciously as he answered more of his father's questions regarding increasing their labor force. Words slipped easily off Draco's tongue as he sold the prospect of increased wealth to his father.

Lucius placed his finger over his lips and his nostrils flared. "Though this deal seems to be of benefit to us, you cannot have everything, Miss Granger," his shoulders straightened. "Choose; either your friends have free access to Malfoy Castle, or I allow the people of your Realm to work in our fields."

"That's entirely unfair!" Hermione griped, taking an intimidating step toward the solid wood desk. "There is no reason for you not to grant both-"

"Either request costs me something!" Lucius hissed. "I pay in infiltrated security into the castle, or in coin. Now, decide," Lucius commanded sharply.

Without her friends, the loneliness that Malfoy Castle promised caused Hermione's stomach to churn. However, logically, the decision was an easy one.

And so, she sacrificed again to better the Realm of the Order over her own needs. The toothy grin Lucius unleashed added to her discomfort with the decision.

Lucius eyed the contract a final time. "What is the need to push the wedding back ten full days?" Lucius deftly questioned.

Draco interjected before Hermione could move her lips. "The cleansing requires ten treatments if performed with a mudblood," Draco lied smoothly. The slight drop in Hermione's jaw went thankfully unnoticed, and she hastily composed her features.

"I see," Lucius responded, seemingly satisfied with his son's answer. "Very well. I accept the changes to the contract."

Hermione reached for the parchment. "I'll bring a copy to Kingsley for final approval."

"Is that necessary?" Lucius sneered. "Surely, if I approve, and you approve, this should be satisfactory."

"Kingsley is head of The Realm of the Order," Hermione stated cooly. "He must agree to the arrangement."

"Ah, but from what I've seen here, you are actually the one who makes the decisions." Lucius smiled sinisterly.

The shrewd assessment threw Hermione off-kilter, and she tried not to stumble upon her next words. "I am his adviser, nothing more," Hermione corrected, swallowing her pride. "We will contact you by Floo when we have reached a decision."

"Very well, but do hurry. I do not want to needlessly wait all night."

Lucius pointed to the Floo powder on a pedestal next to the fire, dismissing her with little more than a jeering glare.

A brief glance back towards Draco told her what she needed to know; His small nod and heady gaze whispered promises of tomorrow.

Kingsley was startled when Hermione stumbled through his fireplace.

"You really must be more careful with the Floo access," Hermione criticized, brushing the ashes from her robes. "I have the revised contract for your consideration. Lucius negotiated changes to my propositions, but I believe you will still agree to the terms."

"Lucius saw this before me," Kingsley wallowed as she handed him the parchment.

"Only because we performed the first cleansing there...for the sake of keeping the arrangement private," Hermione explained quickly. "Final acceptance is pending your approval." She purposefully omitted the part where Lucius had disrespected Kingsley's role as leader.

Kingsley glanced over the document, smiling at times as he read.

"The people of the Realm will thank us for the new prospect of employment. Excellent work, Hermione," Kingsley said, though his lips were turned downward. "However, I am disappointed that you shut me out of the discussions this morning." He glared down at his desk. "I never meant to hurt you," he admitted with what Hermione felt sounded like genuine agony, "But, I need you to remember who you work for. Lucius is not to be trusted. Draco is not to be trusted. You know better than this."

Crossing her arms over her chest, Hermione stared silently into Kingsley's eyes.

"This," Kingsley motioned toward the world outside his window in frustration, "is something we have never faced, and I am trying to set things right. I cannot do that without inside knowledge of our enemies. This is our opportunity to get just that."

So badly did she want to believe him- her natural instinct to trust the Order was alive within her very core. But trust, as she was learning, had no place amongst decaying ruins; it thrived on dependence and reliability, both of which were the scarcest resources on earth. Draco was right, it was her turn to play the game in the same way others had been around her for some time.

"Of course," she forced a smile, her voice sowing lies as sinister as the ones she once believed. "It was a shock, but you know where my loyalty is. I will report anything of importance to you."

The satisfied smile that unraveled on Kingsley's plump face fed the anger she had starved deep within. "Excellent! We need to understand more about what they are providing the other Realms…" And then he was off, assigning tasks to his newly appointed spy.

When she finally left his office and made her way toward her room, she could barely keep track of the days, let alone her feelings.

Resting tangled curls onto her pillow, Hermione shifted uncomfortably in the old bed.

Something felt wrong.

The darkness of the space, normally soothing after a hard day, did nothing but smother her. Tonight, home felt ever less welcoming than it did yesterday; a fact that caused her body to search in vain for a chance to feel at peace within Hogwarts once more.

Amongst the clanging of metal, in a place deep beneath the surface of the earth, far from the damage of radiation, two goblins toiled away. One worked tirelessly on the making of small chains, forged with magic and runes powerful enough to contain the force it was to one day house. The other read carefully through a piece of parchment, received days before, and compared it against a newer parchment that had arrived mere hours ago.

"Should we be taking part in this?" The goblin clanged his hammer thrice more before turning his gaze upon his companion. "The wars of the outside world are none of our concern."

"Why should we care?" The other sneered in response, not bothering to look up from the orders. "We are getting generously compensated. Neither party knows of what we are doing."

"And when they do find out?"

"By then, it's likely one side will be dead- This power is not for man nor creature to control alone," the Goblin paused. "Let them battle each other, we are safe here."

The metal clanging continued, the future thrown deeper into unrest with each crack of the hammer.