Holy Water

“The what?” she asked, allowing herself only a moment’s worth of shock. If Draco was using her for information, she would not make it easy.

He rolled his eyes, shrugging. “Look. I know you aren’t going to trust me, that’s fine. Go talk to Dumbledore, he was informed of this plan a few days ago. I’m not sure why he didn’t tell you, but that’s what’s going on. I’ve already sworn my loyalty to him, the Order, and Potter. As has my father.”

She simply stared at him, waiting for the laughter, and the subsequent take-back. When none came, she stood, making her way to the door.

“Draco, I’m not sure what you are playing at. I’m going home, it’s been a long day.”

She apparated away, turning around in the foyer of her apartment. This was the only spot in the small flat that allowed incoming or outgoing apparation. She resided in a muggle district of London, and never felt like trying to find a suitable place for her friends to apparate. While it sometimes gave her quite a shock, she had grown used to her friends appearing without much warning.

Stepping into the floo, she popped out of the fireplace at Hogwarts, into the empty room they used for Order meetings.

She took a peek onto the clock, a replica of the one Molly’s kitchen sported. The hand labeled Albus (colored in periwinkle blue, at his request) rested on available. It let any Order members know when they could enter his office, and when they needed to wait for a meeting to end.

Storming into his office, she glanced around for any sign of the older wizard, but found none. Just as she picked up her wand and prepared to hurl something across the room, Severus stormed through the very same door. He ducked just in time to avoid a bowl of lemon drops hitting the wall, scattering candies across the floor.

“Albus!” she shouted, incinerating the individual candies. She knew that later, she’d feel bad if she destroyed anything of value, so she instead mutilated something she could replace. If she wanted to. Later.

“Ah, Hermione,” his voice trailed off as he saw the candies zooming around the room, accompanied by dramatic sound effects. Severus looked fairly confused, and Hermione, well, she was furious.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Do you have any idea what this means?” she shouted, hands on her hips, the candies already decimated.

“Why didn’t I tell you what?” he asked mildly, hoping to not enrage her again. While she was no match for him, and everyone in the room knew it, he’d learned long ago not to piss off a witch. They were cunning, and often had a long memory of wrongs done against them.

“About Lucius, and Narcissa, and the man I just married!”

“Ah.”

Albus sat down at his desk, keeping a wary eye on Hermione. Severus looked as if he was going to duck out of the room, but Albus stopped him. He cleaned the candies up with a wave of his hand, and then gestured for them to take a seat.

He picked a spot above their heads to stare at, before drawing in a slow breath. “I was unsure of what Lucius really meant. At first, I thought it was a trick. However, he was not lying about Narcissa. Severus confirmed it, though he had not been summoned to the meeting when it occurred. Once the two of them swore loyalty, I could not find a time to pull you aside and inform you; the Governor’s Board has seen fit to summon me to every meeting these past several days. This was hardly something I could write down into a letter.”

Hermione shot a glare at him, then fixed her gaze on Severus. “You knew about this?”

The dark haired professor shot her a withering glance. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. However, I can guess; your words and childish tantrum give it away. The Malfoy men are switching sides?” The last question was directed at Albus, who nodded agreement. Hermione was glaring at him. Okay, so the tantrum was childish, and she probably should be embarrassed for acting that way in front of the headmaster, but he had seen her in far worse form. Spending the vast majority of two decades around a small group of people sort of stripped away the barriers of propriety.

Silence came over the room, each person thrown into their own worlds. “He thinks this means I’m going to be living with him. Did you tell him that would happen?” she asked quietly.

The headmaster shook his head. “No, dear. You don’t have to do anything. This marriage was planned by Lucius as a solid way to get Draco under my protection. He was prepared to remain in Voldemort’s service, after I Obliviated him, but we came to another arrangement. He will fake his own death, and go into hiding, remaining for Order training only. Draco will remain a Death Eater, and report to you. I’m sure that’s why he thought you two would be residing under the same roof. It would make his job a bit easier.”

Hermione snorted. “I don’t care about making his life easier. I have no desire to be tied to someone I don’t love out of a sense of duty. I owe him nothing. He has his way into the Order, and what’s left of his family is safe.”

She stood, and moved to leave the room. “Albus, next time you make plans involving me, you need to let me know. I’ve given almost everything to you for this fight. I want your respect of that sacrifice in return.”

With that, she was gone.

Severus turned a bewildered eye to the headmaster, who sported a small smile. The twinkle was back in his eye.

“What the hell are you playing at, Albus?”

“Severus, that woman is going to become a force to be reckoned with. I know you can feel it, she intimidates the best of us. She will keep Draco on his toes, and he will keep pushing her to improve.”

The potions master stood, not sure whether to be disgusted or annoyed. Albus kept them all dancing to his tune. Of course he could feel Hermione’s power, she held an unbridled passion, one that coursed through her magic, touching all exposed and leaving a trail of scorched earth in its wake. Her nature infuriated and frustrated him in her youth, and drew him to her like a moth to flame as an adult.

“What would you have done had I proposed?” he asked. Albus’ eyes lost that far away look, and his jaw dropped. Severus felt a rush of satisfaction at shocking the infallible headmaster.

“I honestly don’t know how I would have reacted. There’s nothing I could say, she is still her own woman, and would make her own decisions. Why didn’t you?”

Severus smiled, a small one. “I highly doubt I will survive this war. My number came up years ago, and yet I still keep cheating death. I don’t love her, and I doubt I could love her the way she deserves. I like her though. She’s the only person who doesn’t take any shit from me. It takes some personal fortitude to do that.”

With that, he followed Hermione out the door, returning to his personal rooms.

Hermione sat, flipping through channels on the television, purposely avoiding thoughts about the recent revelations. She knew she needed to speak to Draco. If he was really to report to her after his meetings with the Dark Lord, he would need to know how to contact her.

The revelations had knocked the wind out of her sails. It was as though all her energy lately had been spent in panic and fear, she was going to be wed into a family of Death Eaters, and though she felt confidence on Albus’ ability to keep her safe, there was still a fear of being captured, or killed. Now she felt empty, there was nowhere else to direct that energy.

She debated for a few more minutes, before tossing the remote to the table with a sound of disgust. Grabbing the floo powder, and tossing a handful into the fire, she stuck her head in, shouting, “Malfoy Manor”.

As she briefly waited for the correct fireplace, she hoped that the wards at Malfoy Manor had been set to allow her. When she found herself facing a marble entryway, she knew she had found the right one.

Before she could call for her husband, a house elf appeared, giving her a disdaining look. Jesus Christ, even the elves are snobs.

“Could you please retrieve Master Malfoy?” she asked, kindly but firmly. “I need to speak to him.”

“Tinky must know who is calling the master,” the elf replied.

“It’s Master Draco’s new wife,” Hermione said back quietly. “I need to speak with my husband immediately.”

“Go on, Tinky, I have it. You are to tell the other elves that anything Hermione wants is hers. She is the newest member of the household.”

Hermione looked up into the tall figure of Lucius Malfoy. She blinked, and felt her heart pound painfully. Lord, the man was still terrifying, even after pledging his allegiance in the form of an unbreakable vow to Albus. For a brief moment, Hermione questioned the validity of it, before tamping down on that thought.

“Do come through. I wish to meet you more formally, and your head shoved through a fireplace is no way to do so.”

“I didn’t want to intrude,” she sputtered, but her father-in-law was having none of it. A few seconds later, Hermione stepped through the fireplace, quickly cleansing herself and the floor around her. Traveling by floo was always messy, and she admired the Malfoy household for having a dust-proof room for those arriving through the fireplace.

Lucius saw her admiring glance around the room, and chuckled.

“We do not receive many floo callers. Most people prefer the front. I’ll show you where you can apparate to. The wards were set to grant you entrance this morning.”

He waited for her to follow, before leading her out into a hallway that led to the tallest front doors she’d seen in a while. The foyer was gigantic, obviously for arriving guests to apparate into without landing on one another. It held very little view of the rest of the house, instead simply opening out into a hallway that featured more doors than Hermione could count.

Lucius led her into a sitting room, where Draco waited, eating a sandwich.

“Hey,” Hermione said, giving him a nod of her head. “Sorry for my abrupt departure earlier, I needed to talk to Albus before I said anything to you. The old bastard didn’t tell me what was going on.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “So now you know. What are you here to discuss?”

“Reporting.” Hermione helped herself to a seat, crossing her legs and readjusting her skirt. “I need to show you how to apparate to my apartment to make reports.”

Lucius shot her a glance, and Draco let out an exasperated huff of breath.

“Merlin, Granger, you still think it’s dangerous to live here?”

“I’m not Granger, anymore,” she said sharply. “And my only reason for becoming a Malfoy is so that Voldemort will be happy, and you two will be safe. This home is not mine, nor do any of us want it to be. Don’t make this arrangement anything more than is needed.”

The two men gave her stunned looks, and Hermione smiled inwardly, greedily taking pleasure in the knowledge that she had shocked them into silence. They clearly expected her to be more than willing to move in and take over the beautiful home. Any sane person would jump at the chance to live among such grandeur.

Before either could speak, the door flung open, and Severus Snape came in. Hermione closed her eyes briefly. This was too much.

“What are you doing here,” he snarled at her, seemingly uncaring of the other two men in the room. It wasn’t a question, more an exclamation of displeasure.

“Oh, Professor Snape,” she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “I guess you haven’t heard the amazing news! Draco and I were wed earlier today, and we’re just planning our honeymoon!” She dropped the high pitch, and glared at him. “I have as much right to be here as you, so shut the fuck up and leave me alone. I’ve had the worst day possible, and don’t want your drama.”

The room descended into uncomfortable silence. Hermione and Severus glared at each other, and the two Malfoy men simply waited for the explosion. Nobody talked to Snape like that and lived to tell about it. Hermione was unsure as to whether or not the Malfoy men knew of Snape’s true allegiances, and was afraid to spill his secret. They would find out soon enough, but not from her mouth. Draco was secretly glad he’d gotten to hear Hermione swear – he had been waiting for the chance for quite some time.

Hermione felt a brief flash of remorse. She and Severus fought most of the time, but she was rarely that nasty and vulgar. The tension of the day had just bubbled over.

Severus snorted, then turned to Draco. “Gentlemen, the true Hermione Granger.”

Draco narrowed his eyes. “What are you talking about?”

“Lucius, Draco,” Severus began, turning to pour himself a glass of firewhiskey. “I know all about you two joining the Order.” He spoke loudly over their immediately panicked looks and the beginnings of denial. They obviously thought he was still loyal to Voldemort. “Hermione and I are the Order’s tacticians, and I am going to train you in the delicate art of spying on someone. My true allegiances have been to Albus for over twenty years now. I’ve been working side-by-side with your wife for almost a decade.”

And the room fell silent.

“Awkward!” Hermione sang softly, shooting a dirty look at Severus. “You mean they didn’t know? What a shitty friend you are.”

“Hermione, don’t start with me. Will you go home? I’ll bring Draco by later to show him where to report.”

She stood up, nodded her head to her new family, and left, before shooting Severus a grin. He would sure have a fun night.

Lucius’ head was reeling. He didn’t have friends, he had acquaintances. People who feared him, or followed behind him, hoping for a bit of greatness to eke onto them. Severus, however, was like family. He and Draco were all that was left.

He had never once suspected. There was not an inkling. After the brunette left, the air grew thick with discomfort. Severus looked to Draco, then Lucius, before helping himself to a seat.

“Have you any questions, anything to say?”

“Why?”

Severus’ dark eyes bored into Lucius, but his school acquaintance wouldn’t back down.

“Lilly.”

Lucius closed his eyes, while Draco’s jaw dropped. Lucius had been one of the ones present the night Lilly and James were killed. He had never been told the whole story, but to find out that his friend had still harbored feelings for the woman – that felt like someone had sucker punched him.

“It’s over, and in the past. Do not trouble yourself.”

“Why didn’t you try to save Draco?” Lucius was suddenly furious. If Severus had felt this way years ago, then he was there for the seven years while Draco was at school. He had such an influence… at the time, Lucius knew he would have been furious had Draco turned from him. But now, he knew Voldemort’s capabilities, and just wanted the megalomaniac to fall. He wanted Narcissa’s death avenged, and his son to be able to live, free of fear.

Draco let out a sharp laugh. “He did. Looking back, I can’t believe I never noticed the ways he tried to encourage me to be something better, to chose a path that didn’t include the Death Eater fold. I just didn’t listen.”

There wasn’t anything to be said to that. Lucius only had one more question.

“Why didn’t you tell me? All these years… I never once suspected a thing.”

Black eyes met gray. “It would have meant my death.”

There was no answer to that. Lucius turned away. He felt angry, violated, and like someone had just beaten him upside the head with a club. It was true, what Severus said, and it disgusted him. The anger overwhelmed him, and for the first time, he wished he had never joined the Death Eaters. He wished he’d remained neutral. He would still have his wife. Draco never would have joined.

His quest was still about revenge, he wanted that bastard to pay for taking Narcissa away, but he knew it had to mean more. The desire for revenge wouldn’t last for too long. He didn’t have to like muggles, he could still believe in blood purity, but it was like a light was switched on.

Voldemort was wrong. Narcissa had known that. Draco and Severus knew that. He was the last to realize just what he had become, and thanked the gods that there had been time, that he had a chance to change things.

The other two men waited silently while Lucius attempted to control the oncoming panic attack. When Severus slipped a calming draught into his hands, he gulped it down and left the room, muttering a promise to talk to Severus at another time.

Hours later, Hermione was alerted to the quiet beep reverberated through the room. It let her know someone had apparated to her place. “Hermione?” came Severus’ familiar voice. He knew her apartment well enough, having been here many times, for a variety of reasons.

“Severus, give me just a minute. Do you have Draco?”

“Yes. Will you drop this blasted ward and let me in?”

With a wave of her wand, Hermione allowed the two men entrance into her apartment. She pulled some pajama pants on over her boxer shorts, and decided not to worry about the wife beater that covered her torso. This was her home, and she looked proper enough without a bra on.

It was a short walk to the living room, where she found Draco, collapsed on her couch. Severus was getting a pot of water boiling for tea.

“How did it go?”

Draco cracked an eye at her, shaking his head. “He’s a slave driver. How do you ever survive training with him? Voldemort only cares for curses… Severus makes those training sessions look like child’s play.”

Hermione burst out laughing. “You just get used to it. We have also had much longer than you do. It’ll eventually get easier.”

Draco just groaned as the older man brought him a cup of strong tea, instructing him to drink. Hermione accepted hers thankfully, offering him a small smile. He strode into the kitchen, washing a few dishes.

“What is going on between you two?” Draco asked quietly. “He’s more comfortable in your apartment than in my home, and he’s known my father since their schooldays.” Hermione nearly choked on her mouthful of the hot liquid, and shook her head.

“We’ll talk about it another time. You and I will have months to get to know each other. I never intended to marry so young, let alone during the war. I am still hoping to keep some semblance of who I was before this all happened.”

He looked around at the quaint place, taking in the moving pictures and the still ones. He recognized most of the subjects, and could guess the identities of several others. “Is that why you refuse to move to the Manor?”

She snorted. “No, I refuse to move to the Manor because there is no reason for me to do so. I’m happy here, you’re happy there. This is a marriage for nothing more than protection. We don’t need to live together to do that.”

Draco merely nodded. “We’ll see,” he mumbled. While her arguments made sense, the cold detachment intrigued him.

Within seconds, he was snoring. Hermione continued to sip her tea, before levitating his sleeping body into her guest room to reclaim her couch. Severus would wake him and apparate away later. She flipped through the channels on the TV, vaguely listening to the sounds of Severus in her kitchen.

“How the world seems to have turned all our lives upside down,” he said quietly, coming to sit next to her on the couch.

“I just want this all to be over, and it’s barely begun,” she whispered. “I can barely stand my husband. My father in law has spent the better part of his life trying to murder me. My own parents want nothing to do with me. What more should I give up, all for this madman?”

Severus didn’t answer, and for that she was grateful. He had given up even more, and they both knew it. She slung her feet up onto the couch, laying her calves across his lap, propping herself up on the armrest.

Severus laid a hand on her leg, wishing she would turn around and leave her head there, but it would be too inappropriate. Their affair had effectively come to an end with the ring that was now on her hand. Speaking of which, he reached over and grabbed her hand, wanting to see what ring Draco had given her. When he saw the diamond, he breathed a sigh of relief. It was not the ring that Malfoy wives wore.

“What’s up?”

“Draco didn’t give you his mother’s ring,” Severus stated. “The ring has been in the Malfoy family for longer than anyone can remember. The woman who wears it will be bound for life to the Malfoy name. Not that the ring you currently sport is anything less than priceless. Draco intends for this thing to be as temporary as you do.”

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, twirling the diamond band around her finger. It was beautiful, and she could feel the power radiating from it.

“That makes this all easier. I know my timing is horribly inappropriate, but if we both survive this, I want us to try, to make something work between us. After my divorce.”

Severus nodded, squeezing her hand and letting it drop.

Several days later, Hermione found herself receiving her first report. Draco apparated into her foyer, slowly peeling off his black robes. Hermione knew the drill, and immediately set her wand to record everything he said. This was the most important time to gather as much information as possible. Often times, Voldemort tortured his followers for infractions. Sometimes things got hazy in the days following, and Hermione never blamed Severus for purposely pushing details away after his reports.

“Are you hurt?” she asked briskly, pulling several healing salves from her cabinet.

“Yes,” Draco muttered, visibly wincing in pain. Hermione instructed him to be still, and waved her wand. She needed to make sure nothing was wrong with the vital organs, and that all injuries were not life-threatening. She didn’t have the skill to deal with those. Once she was satisfied, Draco was led to the couch. He had already begun to report on the meeting, while she worked on healing his wounds.

Hermione stayed silent, mentally making note of which aspects of his story she would like to probe further. She divested him of his shirt, and gently whispered the spells to mend the broken ribs. Draco let out several loud grunts, but otherwise continued with his report. Once she was satisfied with her work on his broken ribcage, she went to work fixing the slices on his chest. Once she had determined that they were simple cuts, and not the effects of a nasty hex, she gently covered the cuts in salve, watching as they mended themselves rather tidily.

Once he quieted, Hermione asked him the questions she had been waiting for, occasionally telling him to move this, or roll that way. Once satisfied that she had mended everything she could, she sat back, allowing him to sit up.

“Thanks,” he said, and she murmured the spell to stop the recording.

“You want anything to drink? Severus usually wants tea before he heads back to Hogwarts.”

Draco shook his head, and stood. He prodded several of the slices, which were now barely more than a silvery scar. “I’m going to head back to the Manor now.”

He stepped back into the foyer and apparated away.

Hermione glanced at the clock and decided to wait and see if Severus showed up. Draco had said that he did not see the older professor there, but Hermione still waited. Twenty minutes later, when he did not show, she retired to her bedroom.

Her life continued on in that fashion for several more weeks. Ginny gave birth to the twins, and almost all of Hermione’s spare time was spent visiting the family, and helping out. Ginny’s delivery was not a difficult one, but the petite girl was exhausted from the sheer effort of giving birth and raising two babies.

The first article regarding the Malfoy-Granger nuptials had already been written and printed, and while Hermione chose not to read it, Draco had nearly destroyed something in his anger. He had to report the night after the article came out, and the piece had crept into their conversation.

“You’ll have to get used to it. People love to talk about the Malfoy family,” Draco commented after calming down, as she fixed a slice that cut into the muscles of his leg. He winced in pain, but did not allow himself to move.

She sat back, simply listening as he talked. Today, he had escaped relatively unharmed. The one on his leg was the worst of it, and that had come from his dueling practice with another Death Eater.

“So how goes life in the private sector?” Draco asked nonchalantly, settling back onto her cushions. Hermione stared at him for a second, wondering where that question came from. The two had maintained a cordial distance, neither discussing personal matters with the other.

She stood, and set the coffeepot to make two cups’ worth. Two mugs were pulled out, as she asked Draco how he took his. After a few more seconds of stalling, she came back and sat in her papasan chair, sinking into the beige cushion.

“It’s going. I’m making some progress with my potions, though sometimes I wish I had just gone to work for someone else. What about you?”

He pushed himself up into a sitting position and waited while Hermione fixed the tea. As she settled back into her seat, he shrugged. “It’s going. I manage one of my father’s investment companies, so the job isn’t too taxing. I never really have the time for anything serious, with my extracurricular activities.”

Hermione nodded, unsure of where to continue.

“We’re completely ridiculous, aren’t we,” Draco murmured. “Here we are, a married couple, and we barely know what to do with each other. Neither of us knows a damn thing about each other aside from what half-truths we learned during our school days, over a decade and a half ago. Not to mention, we live miles apart.”

She smiled. “I’m rather thankful for this, to be honest. If my marriage has to be uncomfortable and awkward, the two of us can make it as awful as possible.” They laughed.

“I think that was the closest thing to a compliment you’ve ever given me, Granger.”

Hermione met his eyes, and they descended into an uncomfortable silence.

“You’re not a Granger, anymore. You’re a Malfoy, Lady Malfoy. My mom’s dead and you’re my wife. I’m trying, really trying. I know it’s too late to apologize for the times I called you a mudblood as a child, but know that my apology is there, and I’m incredibly sorry. I know I made your life miserable, and you have to be really thrown off, by the sudden change in both my father and I. He was the one who approached me, about me joining your side, to protect myself. After my mother’s death, it was a done deal. Albus taking in my father as well was just icing on the cake. I’ll try not to fight with you, as we become more familiar with each other over the next… however long this lasts. Although, I can’t promise – I’ve always enjoyed your temper, few people could infuriate me the way you can. I might start a fight, just to liven things up.” He flashed a boyish grin, and Hermione smiled in response. She liked this Draco much better than the one she used to know.

“Seriously? I hated fighting with you, it took everything I could to not start crying like a baby. It took me a while to learn that crying got me nowhere, Severus made sure I could hold any emotion inside for as long as necessary.”

He sat up, taking another sip of his cooling coffee, before examining his repairing muscles. They were still mending, and any walking would rip the wound back open. “So what is going on between you two?”

Hermione met his gaze for nearly a minute. He held her searching looks, before she looked away. “I don’t love him. I don’t think he loves me. He is almost two decades older than we are. I know we’re both still young by wizarding world standards, but I was tired of being lonely. A social life is difficult, given my own extracurricular activities. Most of my time is spent with the Weasley clan, and all of their children.”

“So you’ve had sex with him?”

She blushed a bit, nodding.

“I haven’t since our marriage, however. We hope to eventually pick things up, later. After the war, and you and I get a divorce.”

Draco just stared at her, bewildered. “You don’t have to put anything on hold for me. This is a marriage solely of convenience, as you’ve said multiple times. If you two have kept things quiet for so long, I have no doubts you won’t slip up now.”

Setting her coffee cup down, Hermione gave him a small smile and sat back, glancing up at the clock. It was only 9 PM, thank god. “I don’t want to risk it. The two of us living apart is enough to cause some questions across the wizarding world, but it’s not abnormal, especially with arranged marriages. What about you?” She was desperate to turn the conversation back on him. Her relationship with Severus was intensely private.

“No. I haven’t been with anyone in years. It’s difficult to find someone who doesn’t run screaming for the hills at the sight of the dark mark, and there aren’t many single Death Eater women. Pansy got married about five years ago. She’s out of the Death Eater scene, thank god. Both her parents’ were killed, and her husband is the quiet type. I occasionally see the two of them and their children. Pansy loves being a mom, and she loves spending her husband’s money. Her months in the Death Eater fold turned her off from the scene completely.”

His mouth opened and shut a few times, before he tossed his shoulder.

“Why not Weasley?” It came out in a rush, as though he’d wanted to get it out before he changed his mind.

Hermione snorted. Everyone had asked her that question, and for quite a while, the two would hex anyone on sight who asked why they didn’t get married. “It’s simple. Ron would have always been unhappy with me as a wife. He wanted what he grew up with – he wanted to take care of a family, bring home a paycheck to a wife and children. I never would have been satisfied; I always wanted to be successful in the professional realm. He makes quite a lot, contracting for a spells marketing firm. Turns out he’s absolutely brilliant at marketing, knowing what spells to push where, and when, and understands the spells market – he knows exactly when a certain spell is going to be needed, and seeks out a crafter to let him market it. I think his job is like a gigantic chess game to him; he loves it. Lav is happy running their house and decorating it; it’s beautiful. She really put a lot of thought into it. Before Diana, she did part-time work, as a home decorator and events coordinator. Since having her, though, she’s taken a break.”

Draco just nodded, seemingly impressed.

“What about you? You’re certainly… tamer than you were in school.”

He snorted. “That’s because I was in school, I was a teenage boy. You don’t go through what I have in life and not come out different. Blood politics is one thing… it’s another to do what the Death Eaters do. Some people love it,” he sounded disgusted, and swallowed noisily. “I never did. I couldn’t do it. A lot of us learned the hard way that the shit we liked to talk about during school meant an entirely different thing in the real world. I grew up.”

They were plunged into silence, this time, a bit less awkward. Hermione desperately wanted to ask Draco more about the ten years since graduation, but couldn’t bring herself to do it. He had dropped off the face of the earth, and she and her friends assumed him to either be a Death Eater, or dead. They never really cared.

After neither could come up with anything to idly chat about, Draco checked on his leg once more, and left for the manor.

“I don’t like this,” Harry muttered, as he folded the laundry. Ginny was taking care of their daughter, Lilly, while Sirius slept peacefully away. She gave him a dirty look.

“Harry, Albus knows what he’s doing. He wouldn’t put Hermione in danger for no reason. If he believes the oath Draco and his father took, then it’s good enough for me. And besides, Hermione refuses to live with him. She’s still got her apartment. He reports to her, just like Severus does.”

As the last towel was folded and sent to its proper location, Harry held out his hands for the small girl, taking her to her room. Ginny sank into the couch, rubbing her hands together. She was ready for a bath and bed. Twins were exhausting, and she was already looking forward to the day when they slept through the night.

Harry stepped back into the living room, and she smiled inwardly. The years since graduation had been good on him. Everyone thought he would go into the Auror force, but he didn’t think it was a wise move, not while his number one loyalty was to the Order. Instead, he worked on defensive spells, and ward crafting. He and Ron worked in the same building, often working side-by-side on the same project, just from different ends.

She caught Harry’s thoughtful look as he glanced out the window, and knew immediately what was on his mind. “Don’t you dare, Harry Potter. You are to leave the two of them alone. And don’t go running to Severus over this, either, he wants nothing to do with it.”

He had the decency to look sheepish – he had been considering asking Severus to run interference. Ginny knew he had no clue about the relationship between their friend and their former professor, and intended to keep it that way. No need to make a volatile situation worse.

Harry forced himself to stop thinking about it, Ginny was right. This was out of his hands, and in more capable ones. He smiled impishly at Ginny and dove for her, his hands tickling her sides. It had been too long since they could roughhouse, given Ginny’s multiple miscarriages before the birth of Lilly and Sirius.

She let out a shrieking laugh, and unsteadily tried to push his hands away, managing to yelp out a muffliato to keep the two children asleep, at least for the time being.

Summer came to a close, and Hermione found the absence of the Malfoy senior a relief. She rarely visited the manor, but when she did, Lucius was nowhere to be found. After two months of silence, she finally asked Draco where his father was. He simply shot her an impish grin, wincing when she hit a tender spot on his abdomen.

“Training. He wants to be completely prepared for an elaborate scene, making sure nobody doubts his death. Then he intends on going to work for the Order, with Severus, training new recruits.”

Hermione briefly winced at the imagery. Between Lucius and Severus, none of the newcomers would escape unscathed. The two knew more creative and painful spells than anyone she knew, because of the sheer time they’d spent in the Death Eater circle. Many of the old crew, those who had been around the first time Voldemort began his ascent to power, were no longer part of his circle. Many were dead or completely incapacitated, and some had simply fled. Nobody heard from them after that, and it was an unspoken assumption that they had been quietly killed, their bodies disposed of properly.

Draco briefly glanced away, his jaw working in frustration. Hermione could see a question coming, and had a feeling she was not going to be too happy.

“Look, we need to make a public appearance. I’m not talking like a huge party, Voldemort doesn’t expect that, but…” his voice trailed off, before clearing his throat. “The whole point of this marriage, at least in his mind, was to lull you into a sense of security, and make you give up some secrets. Or at least the name of any spies. Voldemort thinks I’m not doing my job, and wants proof that I’m attempting to court you.”

She sighed, feeling momentarily annoyed. Of course, he would expect that. Draco stared at her, his face a mask. He showed no emotion, which irritated her further. She had not yet fully mastered the poker face.

“And he seriously won’t accept that I’m not like other women? I’m much more likely to fall in love with and give secrets to someone who comes and cooks me dinner and rents a movie with me?” She was hoping that Draco could tell the Dark Lord that she hated public excursions.

He shook his head. “Doesn’t work. Voldemort is extremely sexist, and patriarchal. In his world, women are fancy arm decorations, and love nothing more than diamonds and money. He can’t accept that you don’t fit into his idea. Would you mind terribly playing dress up for an afternoon?”

Hermione closed her eyes, feeling a piercing headache coming on.

“This is more than I bargained for,” she muttered, rolling her head and cracking her neck. Finally, when it was apparent that Draco would wait for an answer, she responded. “Fine. But you are going to owe me for this.”

He grinned, moving his shoulders tentatively, checking out her repair job. He and Severus preferred her healing job to going to Madam Pompfrey, and Saint Mungo’s was out of the question. There was no explanation for the scars on their bodies, nor the wounds they received. “So when should we go out? I need to make sure someone spots us, so Voldemort will get off my case.”

“This Saturday?”

He nodded, then stood, moving to leave. He paused, as though he wanted to say something, then clearly thought better of it, and apparated away.

Hermione grinned as the new recruits left the training room, clutching at various extremities, sporting blood and bruises. She didn’t miss these days, the ones where she barely walked away.

It was their turn. Severus and Lucius were chatting away at the head of the room, while Albus and Remus looked on from the sidelines. Hermione was wearing appropriate clothes for sparring today, having remembered the time she forgot to bring anything other than jeans and a t-shirt. She grimaced, remembering the beating she took that day.

Harry and Ron filed in after her, followed by a good portion of the Weasley clan, Neville and Luna Longbottom, Lavender Weasley, and finally followed up by Draco. Hermione shot him a small smile, while several of the others slowed their chatter. She felt bad for him – nobody aside from she and Harry had seen Draco since graduation, and most remembered the nasty schoolboy from their former days.

She went to stand by his side, shooting him a grin. This would be interesting. All in the room had heard of their nuptials, but it was odd to see their favorite brunette acting chummy with their worst enemy-turned-ally.

“Let’s begin,” Severus said in his low voice, and everyone turned their attention. The addition of Lucius Malfoy was certainly a shocker, and Hermione felt a sick satisfaction at the various pale faces around the room. While her father-in-law was still a bastard, she had come to respect him for his attempts. The few times they interacted, he was extremely polite, and Hermione noticed him excuse himself whenever the mood got too tense and he seemed on the verge of an outburst.

Severus paired the group off, matching Hermione with Draco. Lucius shouted instructions. He wanted to see them in action, to know what everyone was capable of. He was going to step training up a notch, using the various pieces of information that Severus and Draco fed him about the Death Eater activities. He would be faking his death in less than a week’s time.

Hermione glanced around, checking out the other pairs. There were no two normal pairs, everyone made sure to fight with someone new each week. She was surprised that Harry didn’t get matched up with Draco, the two were probably the best fighters.

Lucius called out a few instructions, nothing unusual – fighting went on until someone was unconscious, or fatally injured. The room had a protective charm on it to alert both Madam Pompfrey and the match’s instructors when someone needed immediate attention. Otherwise, there was very little interference.

And then the fight was on.

Both she and Draco shouted curses at the same time, each throwing up a shield. Hermione chose to keep her power loosely checked, not letting Draco know of her ability to wandlessly shield herself. She was gaining control in dividing her magic, splitting it into sections. As long as she could maintain absolute control of her mental faculties, she could hurl up to three curses at once, and control them with incredible precision.

Provided that nothing distracted her. Her mental shields were thrown up, and as she easily parried the attacks back and forth, she summoned the control. It was both easy and difficult – to envision magic as a physical entity, and to feel it. The feeling was hard, but she’d managed it. It felt… not like her body was splitting in pieces, but like there were cores of energy. And when she split her magic up, she simply created new energy cores.

Draco threw a particularly nasty hex, and she barely managed to deflect it, immediately returning with something of her own. The three centers of light were dimming, and she cursed her inattentiveness, allowing him to gain the upper hand. He was testing her, and she knew it. She feigned a mask of complete indifference, and once again poured her energy into those three centers of light, maintaining the center as the largest. The two side ones would be a silent disarming charm, one to throw Draco back into the wall, and the center was to completely immobilize him. They weren’t aiming for harm today, though some days they fought with the specific intention of drawing as much blood as possible – and fighting as long as they physically could, losing the use of various body parts in whatever manner. Those days were the worst, skele-gro was foul and painful beyond belief.

Just as Lucius and Severus reached her side, she let the light explode, shooting a sort of boom across the room – it was completely silent, but she could feel the tremors from the effort. I think I overdid that one, she thought sheepishly. The two older men were thrown back a few feet, but it was Draco who felt the brunt of the attack. He cracked his skull on the wall, and slumped to the floor, completely immobilized.

She made no move to release him from the control she had tightly wrapped around his body, and instead waited for her to be told to do so. Lucius just stared in wonder, while Severus made a motion with his hand. “Finite Incantatem,” she muttered.

A second later, Draco stood, shaking his head wearily. “I did not see that coming.” Lucius patted his shoulder.

“None of us did. So, Hermione, how did you do that? Did you devise a new spell?” he inquired, turning to the brunette who was doubled over, hands on her knees. She had exerted all of her energy in making sure the job was done right, which was a big no-no. They couldn’t afford to expend all their energy on one enemy.

“Magic,” she tossed under her breath, settling onto the cold floor, observing the ‘not amused’ look on her father-in-law’s face. Luckily, Severus came to her rescue.

“She can split her magic. It’s extremely taxing, as you can plainly see, but she can wandlessly and wordlessly control three basic spells at once. Much quicker, and her target only gets time to block one of them. Draco, she disarmed you, threw you into the wall, and petrified you. Nothing more.”

The two men were agape, that she could do something so simple, and yet have such a profound effect.

In the corner, Albus’ eyes were sparkling. Each student had their own way of fighting – Ron was much better at the spells that required brute force and a bit of violence behind them, and could wandlessly throw spells that had the power to shatter bones from the sheer force. Harry was a bit darker, he had always been, and so his spells were much more subtle – but no less destructive. His partners were always weary, because the powerful wizard would silently send spells that slowly incapacitated his opponent, all the while keeping up a steady stream of minor curses, designed to do nothing more than distract. His opponents rarely lasted 3 minutes in a duel, and often found themselves in a puddle on the floor.

Lavender was downright horrible at offensive moves, but she was the best defensive fighter in the room. Her ability to throw the appropriate shields over any of her comrades was uncanny. When the timing was right, she often used a reflective one, that sent a curse back on its caster. That got dangerous, because sometimes they shot off at other people, but she was quick to control the wayward magic.

Neville and Luna worked seamlessly as a team. Neither of them were exceptionally good, but combined, they worked as well as the best military unit. They could understand each other’s every move, and always combined their efforts. When Luna threw some off-the-wall spell first, something that was more likely than not completely harmless, Neville would wait a beat for their opponent to try and deflect it, and then would follow up with a much more powerful attack, while Luna worked on shielding the two from another opponent.

And Hermione, she could split her magic. She came from a simple-is-better approach, much like everything else in her life. She had given up trying to best Ron or Harry with the more powerful magic. They outdid her any day, through sheer strength and determination. However, her cunning allowed her to devise an approach that made the best use of her expansive knowledge of spells, some obscure and nearly useless. Until Hermione’s quick thinking brought several spells together into one powerful combination that often left her opponent as Draco Malfoy just was – completely immobilized, in a pile on the floor. She had physically manifested her magic into something touchable and real, and was working on the control needed to be truly effective.

The duels were slowly winding down as Albus focused his attention once more on the oddest group in the room. Those who were already finished were catching their breath, healing various wounds as best they could, and focusing on the group, chatting away. The two blondes made a stark contrast with the black-haired professor, and the darker brunette.

Harry watched silently as Lucius offered his hand, while Draco’s laugh slowly seeped through the chatter. Hermione tensed, that much he could see – she was too tired to control herself well enough. Severus’ hand was on the small of her back, while Hermione shook her father-in-law’s hand.

The moment was over, and they all moved apart, but Harry could immediately see what had been missing. Hermione was a link between them, something that brought the tightly knit group of Death Eaters together in a whole new way. She was Draco’s wife, Lucius’ salvation, and Severus’… his thoughts trailed off, not wanting to think about that. He had once thought the two were flirting, but Ginny quickly brushed off his concerns, laughing. They were just fighting, viciously. He’d stopped paying attention, never for once suspecting that anything could be brewing under the surface.

He vowed to keep a closer eye on them.

Just as the last duel came to a close, Lucius nodded, and followed Severus to the front. The black haired man pointed out the flaws in each person’s performance, it was nothing they hadn’t heard before. When he got to Hermione and Draco, he paused. This was Draco’s first fight with this group, and Severus knew what he was capable of. He also knew what Hermione was capable of.

“Both of you underperformed. I’ll expect you to work harder. Hermione, you must gain a tighter control of your little trick, you cannot let it deplete you like that. Draco, don’t ever underestimate her again. She’s vicious, just ask several others in this room. Next time, I want to see you bringing your skills into this room.”

He turned away from the two of them, addressing the group as a whole. “Overall, dismal performance. The only ones who improved enough were the twins.” Fred and George high-fived each other – they always fought as a team, and were as tightly wound as Neville and Luna. Where George was outright dangerous, Fred was cunning. The two had yet to be bested in a fair fight, and Severus often pitted them against five and six enemies at once.

The group was dismissed with assignments for the next two days, and Hermione groaned. She was working on developing better healing spells, to counteract the curses Voldemort was developing. His spells specifically wound themselves through the body, and fought off any attempts to heal. They weren’t strong yet, but they were deadly, given enough time and inexperience on the part of the victim. If someone continually tried to heal themselves with the wrong spells, ignoring the signs, they could kill themselves.

The work she was doing at the office had taken a serious turn, attempting to find a better use for berries of a holly bush. They had never been critically inspected by the wizarding world, having been immediately dismissed simply because they were a favorite of the muggle world. Hermione, however, had found that they increased the effectiveness of spells involving the Arathas’ Tears. Her team was hoping that, due to the use of the Tears in Wolfsbane, they could increase the time between transformations for werewolves. Severus had already developed a potion that allowed the wolf to remain in human form for one transformation, but the next one was almost doubly painful.

Most of the werewolves preferred Severus’ potion, because it allowed them two months’ time to be human. Hermione had been granted permission to use the Professor’s formula and notes, though the rest of her crew weren’t allowed access. She instructed them on what she needed finished, and kept her secrets tightly wound. Severus rarely politically put his name behind any of his discoveries, instead, publishing them through his various puppet companies. It would bring too much scrutiny on a man that already walked a very thin line.

Hermione absentmindedly remained seated on the floor, waving various good-byes to those that left to return to their homes. A few stayed behind, though Draco was the only one who actively engaged her in conversation. He was picking apart her physical manifestation of power, extremely peeved that his wife had so thoroughly bested him in their first duel. He had hoped to walk away with the knowledge that she wasn’t proving best in every way.

“Why don’t you try and divide it into four?” he asked quietly, his mind obviously a million miles away. He had a leg cocked, his knee raised to almost eye-level, his arm resting on it. “You might have enough to keep a fourth in reserve, that way you can maybe hold your own in battle. At least you can save enough to shield you until you can get to safety.”

“Hold my own in battle?” she shot back, her voice raised.

He lifted an eyebrow, shooting her a smirk. “That was a great trick, but you’ll get yourself killed if you are that tired after doing it on the battlefield. Your energy obviously replenishes itself quickly, it only took you five minutes to get back onto your feet and breathing normally.”

“You’re an asshole,” she shot back. “You’re just pissed off because I won that one, in front of everyone.”

Blood rushed into her cheeks, tinting the already flushed skin pink. Draco felt a spark of giddiness, this back and forth verbal sparring always brightened his mood. It was an adrenaline rush, his body thrumming with its fight or flight reaction.

“No, I let you,” he corrected, now just hoping to see her get angry. “Surely you don’t think that a Death Eater knows so few spells? My father just needed to see you in action.”

“Draco, we all know what this was for. You are such an intolerable pain in the ass, you thought it’d be an easy fight. I’m just a girl, what do I know? Now you’re pissed because I had you pinned to the damn wall-”

“Whoa, whoa, easy there tiger,” he said, poking her in the leg. “Don’t get all worked up. This weekend, we’ll see who has real skills. I won’t hold back, and you’ll be the one needing to be stitched up.”

She shot him a glare that would’ve singed a hole through concrete. He simply grinned, blood racing through his body.

Hermione stood, walking over to where Severus and Harry stood, talking. Their conversation drifted to an end as she approached, both eyes appraising her.

“What?” she snapped. “Do either of you have some asinine observation to make?”

Harry shrugged, wrapping an arm around her waist, as he took to lead her out of the room. “Let’s go, Mione.” The two left for Harry's home, for a much needed dinner amongst friends.