A/N:

Thanks to reviewers.

Madea finally let us out, so we've come en masse to visit Countess Black. It's very pleasant here, and unlike some muggles, Countess Black knows how to treat a Malfoy. And those candlesticks will look fine on her mantle. Many thanks to her for having us.

Speaking of muggles, Madea borrowed something from that Shakespeare bloke. A chocolate frog to whomever can identify the play.

Do leave a note, would you? Mother will be simply crushed if you don't.

Draco

"In the beginning, I was unprepared for some of what you did. It scared me, but I got used to it. And I never felt unsafe in your presence."

"What about now, though? Do I punish you too hard?"

"I don't think so. It hurts and I hate it, but..."

"But?"

" I can usually see why you did it. And like you said, we made an agreement and I have to stick my end." Draco kissed her on the cheek lightly and she snuggled into his chest. Draco made himself sit back and suddenly yelped. "Oww!"

Hermione smiled in a way not wholly benevolent as he reached back to rub, and caught his wrist in hers. "Ah ah ah, I see that, Malfoy."

Draco went still. "You little brat, I ought to--"

She giggled. "Turnabout is fair play. Anyway, it's no more than you do to me on a regular basis."

Draco looked wounded. "That's wholly different."

"Different how?"

"Because you deserve it, of course." Hermione gasped with outrage and pretended to move away. "I never!"

"Hermione Jane! I ought to tell Mother you're telling lies."

"I'm lying! You're the one telling fairy stories."

Draco snorted. "A Malfoy never lies. Prevaricates, squirms, dissembles, misdirects, omits, but never lies."

"You've been practicing that one."

"I've time on my hands. Dangerous thing to give a Slytherin."

"I agree."

Draco couldn't resist picking on his wife a little more. "And besides, you just look so cute like that."

Hermione huffed. "I do not."

"Do so. Squirming and kicking like you think it'll help, with your knickers down around your ankles. You usually kick them off, and that's even cuter. And after is the best of all. Know why?"

"Draco!" Hermione was blushing crimson and hiding her face in his chest, which didn't exactly dissuade Draco. He chuckled and lifted her face lightly by the chin, to kiss the tip of her nose.

"Oh, please. You know you love it."

"You are simply terrible." But she kissed him back and it would have turned into more had something not occurred to Hermione. "Draco?"

"Hmm? These buttons are damned hard to undo, you know that?"

"Have you always had—those urges?"

He stopped and thought. "I suppose. Didn't understand what they were until I was older, of course. Eleven or twelve, probably."

"Then what?"

Draco shrugged. "That night in the library. You?"

"What about me?"

"Granger—Hermione, I mean. You must have had some reaction to the thing."

Hermione got a strange look on her face. It didn't occur to Draco—had never occurred to Draco—that his wife did not see it, as he did, through a haze of erotic nostalgia. After all, everything had turned out all right, hadn't it? They were fine now.

"I was angry."

"Angry? It was only a smacking, love. An earned one, at that, given what you'd been doing."

Hermione made herself breathe deeply. "Try to see it from my perspective, Malfoy. You threatened me, made me swear a Wizard's Oath,and then took my knickers down."

"I explained I was smacking you, didn't I?"

"That's hardly better! You humiliated me. And it hurt."

"But what about now?"

"Now? It's—I mean—it's us. However I felt about it then…we've both changed, haven't we?"

"For whatever it's worth, Hermione, if I had it to do again…"

Hermione leant up to cup his face. "It's all right, sweet."

"I'd still take you over my knee. But I'd hug you after. Or something."

Hermione huffed loudly. "How very sensitive of you."

"I'm a Malfoy. Malfoys don't do sensitive. But I, for one, have the cure for all this serious talk."

"Do I want to know?"

He picked her up and carried her toward their bedroom. "I'll give you something to make you forget everything."

Hermione laughed. "Everything? Oh dear."

"Well, not everything. Can't have you forgetting how to say my name, can we?"

As they were speaking a flock of owls had risen from the house and winged toward points far flung, toward Nottingham and Glasgow and Cardiff and everywhere else. The invitations to the great ball were sent, and many in Wizarding Britain waited with baited breath to see whether they'd made the cut.

One certainly did. Harry Potter, sitting in the parlour of Grimmald place, stared at the invitation in silent horror. "I haven't the slightest idea what to get them." Beside him, Kreacher shook his head gently. "Kreacher is going, Master. Kreacher is getting nice gift, very nice gift for young Master Malfoy and his wife."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, Kreacher. What do you have in mind?"

"Kreacher is thinking perhaps Lemmy's head."

Harry blinked. "What? I thought you said…"

"The young Master Malfoy is needing decorations. House elf heads were being good enough for The Mistress." Whenever Kreacher referred to Walburga, Harry could just hear the capitalization in the elf's voice. He smiled adoringly, and a chill ran Harry's spine.

"Kreacher, we can't behead Malfoy's own elf to give him. It wouldn't be right."

"Lemmy is being bad elf, Master. Would be a kindness."

"I couldn't get into the manor anyway, it's warded too heavily."

"Oh no, Kreacher would be going. House elves is slipping in easily."

"I really don't think that's a good idea. How about a vase?"

Kreacher looked crestfallen. "Would being boring! Must get the young Master Malfoy something special. The Mistress would be wanting it." That was, to Kreacher, the ultimate measure of a given thing, and the perfect argument ender.

"Well, you give them one gift, and I'll give another. Kreacher?"

"Yes, Master?"

"You're not to decapitate anything, understand?"

Kreacher nodded sadly. "We is not cutting off heads." His mind, however, was working and he thought he'd found the perfect gift.

In the Burrow, Ron Weasley was staring at the envelope in front of him. Molly had opened hers and Arthur's. "Ron, don't you want to open yours, love?"

"No, Mum." He swallowed hard and stood to go outside, never seeing Arthur following after. Standing on the stoop, breathing the cool, damp air, Ron heard the door close and turned to see his Dad.

"Are you all right, Ron?"

Ron shook his head. " I can't believe she's married him. And now she wants me to go and celebrate with them? I won't do it."

Arthur put a hand on Ron's shoulder. "I understand you're frustrated, Ron, but you have to go. We were invited."

"Dad, I can't!"

Arthur looked Ron directly in the eye as he talked. "Hermione is your friend, Ron. You can't abandon her because you don't like her choices. She's having a very hard go of things right now, and she needs to know we still care."

"But it's Malfoy! You hate Lucius worse than I do. He tried to kill Ginny!"

"And saved your life, Ron. At the very least, we must go and thank them for that."

"But Dad…"

Arthur sighed. "At your age, you must think the world has ended. But you aren't the only one to have suffered with this, Ronald. Fred is gone. Bill is disfigured. George lost his twin. But do any of them complain? Are they sulking about this way? And your mother. Molly's suffered as much as anyone, perhaps more. She's lost people in two wars. You haven't lost anyone, and still you're complaining."

Ron blinked a tear. "Dad, I…"

Arthur gave his youngest son a hug. "Why don't you go and rest, hmm? Mum'll call you for dinner."

So he did, and when he came down he had a small sack of coins which he gave his father. "For my part of the gift. I'm going to go."

Hermione stretched lazily and grumbled as Draco rested his head on her shoulder blade. "Would you like some salve?"

"Hmmm?"

"Salve, Draco. Shall I ask Lemmy to bring some?"

Draco lay down to face her, looked affronted. "You got salve? How did that happen?"

Hermione sighed dramatically and mock swooned. "I'm just so frail and delicate, I suppose Mother thought it a good idea."

Draco wrinkled his nose and huffed. "I never!"

"I was going to ask if you'd like to go again, but since I'm feeling fragile, I guess we ought to just chat."

Draco lightly swatted her arse, muttering dire threats mixed with complaints about the general unfairness of life. He finally nodded, still grumbling, and allowed Hermione to call the elf to bring salve and pumpkin juice for them.

The elf decided that her children were also in need of a snack to replenish their energy, and so when Lucius happened to see her carrying a tray loaded with salve pumpkin juice, fruit and whipped cream, he raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

Seeing his face, Narcissa said worriedly "Everything all right?"

"I should think."

"Is it the children?"

"Isn't it always?"

"Should we go upstairs?"

"Probably not."

"Do I want to know?"

"No."

"Lucius?"

"Hmm?"

"Let's never speak of this again."

"Quite."

Both having eaten, Hermione pulled the top of the jar off and motioned for Draco to roll over. He hesitated. "I think I'm all right."

"Malfoy."

"Really, I am."

Hermione snorted. "Draco, you aren't embarrassed?"

His pink ears told the whole story. She giggled, poking his ribs lightly and giving him a kiss. "Sweet, you've seen me this way a million times."

"I know."

"That's the problem, isn't it? You aren't comfortable with the role reversal."

Draco looked away. "Promise not laugh?"

She nodded solemnly while he rolled over and buried his face in the pillow, pretending not to feel her hand on his bum as she smoothed the salve on. It eased the burning sting tremendously, and he felt himself relaxing all over. He'd never, never deny Hermione salve again ever…unless she did something especially naughty. That was different.

Hermione smoothed some on her husband's thighs, feeling the heat under her palm. "Is that better?"

"I, ah, yes. Much. Are you done?"

"No." Hermione capped the jar and sat back, appreciating the view. She still didn't understand Draco's visceral pull toward that sort of thing, but it was oddly sweet, to see Draco so vulnerable.

"Granger."

"Malfoy."

"Are you done?"

"I don't know. You do look awfully cute this way." She giggled as Draco rolled over and reached for her, scooted back just out of reach. "Should I continue?"

"Certainly not! You're just lucky I'm not feeling up to addressing this issue at the moment."

Hermione grinned just as Leesy appeared. "Young Master and young Madam is being requested downstairs. The replies is coming in."

In Grimmald Place, Harry watched as Kreacher tied the twine on his gift to Hermione. He'd looked hard, and narrowed it down to a goblin made bud vase in purple. He felt good about it. It seemed right.

He turned to Ginny, who'd come over. She kissed his cheek."What're your parents getting her?"

"This set of hideous candlesticks great-great aunt Clothilde left us a while back. It is Malfoy, after all."

Kreacher picked up his parcels and made to leave. Unfortunately, the 'pop!' woke Mrs. Black, who yawned and said sharply "You, Halfblood, where is Kreacher going?"

"Harry, Walburga. My name is Harry."

"I don't care what your name is! And you, blood traitor, why are you here?"

"We're to be married. Get used to it."

"Kreacher left to bring my wedding gift to Malfoy manor."

"Oh? Why is that? Has my grand-nephew married? Who is she? A Pureblood, no doubt."

"Er, actually, it's Hermione."

"The mudblood? My great-nephew has married a mudblood? Cygnus' grandson has married a mudblood?"

"Well, yes, but they've been---"

"HOW DARE YOU SPEW THESE LIES, YOU FILTHY WRETCH?"

"They aren't lies! They got married a few weeks ago and I'm going to the ball to celebrate."

"It's true. Look' Ginny held up the invitation for the wedding and Mrs. Black read it.

"OH! SHAME! SHAME! SHAME AND ETERNAL SHAME! NOTHINGBUT SHAME!"

"STOP IT!" Startled, Mrs. Black stopped howling and looked at Ginny, who stood and approached the painting.

"No one wants to hear it, Walburga. Hermione is worth ten of you, easily, and you know why? Because people like her. They love her. I love her, and so does Harry. So did Sirius, and Remus, and everyone else who died because of people like you. Even your own children hated your guts, you racist cow, so why don't you just—shut—up?"

In life, no one had ever dared tell Walburga off. She was so shocked she forgot to say anything. In the silence, Harry pulled Ginny against himself and kissed her. "I love it when you're feisty, Gin."

"I know."

And even when they kissed again, Mrs. Black didn't say anything.

Dressed, they came downstairs to find a large pile of parcels sitting on a table in the salon, along with a madly grinning elf in a filthy teatowel, holding a bulky, badly wrapped parcel in its withered hands.

"Kreacher?"

"Young master Malfoy! Young madam! You is remembering Kreacher!"

"How have you been, Kreacher? How's Harry?"

"Master is being very well. He is allowing Kreacher to give a special gift to the young master and madam to celebrate their marriage."

"Would you like to stay while we open the gifts?"

"Kreacher would like that! Will young madam open the others first?"

Lucius motioned for the children to sit on the swan's down poufs on the other side of the table, they being the softest, and handed Hermione the first package.

"What's this?"

"Your wedding gifts. People who wish to come have responded to our invitations with gifts to show they support your marriage. Open it, love. Minky, write down the name and what the gift was." Minky took up a quill and Hermione carefully untied the twine.

Over the next hour, the happy couple received things from friends and family, well wishers and politicians. The Goyles sent a beautiful cake, Andromeda a set of new quills, and the Weasleys a pair ofgrotesque candlesticks in pewter, shaped like Grindylows. Even Teddy sent a parchment on which he'd been allowed to scribble as a show of affection.

"I can't imagine what possessed Molly and Arthur to give us these."

"Well, they'll look smashing at the bottom of the hole I'm having dug for them."

"Draco!"

Finally it was time for Harry and Kreacher's gifts. Hermione carefully undid the twine and smiled. "Oh, how pretty." Harry had chosen a blown glass vase in purple, Hermione's favorite colour. She showed it to everyone and gently set it aside, vowing to fill it at the first chance.

Kreacher beamed as Lucius handed over the gift. Wrapped thickly in brown paper, it had a strange, irregular shape. Loosening the paper, Hermione pulled it away, only to hear Narcissa gasp with horror.

"Blippy?"

It was a head. Mounted, the eyes stared sightlessly from the wrinkled face. Kreacher, still beaming, said proudly "Is Kreacher's gift! Young madam is liking?"

"It's…very kind of you, Kreacher."

Narcissa looked traumatized. "It's Blippy! Blippy was Mother's maid when I was a child."

"Oh, yes. When Madam Druella was joining the ancestors, she is giving Blippy to The Mistress. The Mistress is thinking after a few years that Blippy is getting too old, so she is allowing her to join the heads on the wall. Someday Kreacher is being there, too." His misty eyes gave no doubt that he greatly anticipated being beheaded and stuffed.

"Well' said Lucius, trying to lighten the morbid mood 'I suppose we could always use it as a sweets dish."

"Lucius! It isn't funny. I have very fond memories of Blippy."

"Oh no, madam! Blippy would being happy to serve in any way. Blippy would be loving to be used as sweets dish."

Hermione smiled sweetly at Kreacher. "Wouldn't you rather we just buried her, Kreacher?

Kreacher wailed."Kreacher is bad elf! Please don't be burying Blippy! Kreacher is loving Blippy! Blippy is being our mate!"

Leesy Apparated into the room to see what all the noise was and shrilled gleefully. "Kreacher!"

"Leesy!"

"You know one another?"

Leesy nodded. "Kreacher is being mate to Leesy's mother at the end of it's life."

Then she caught sight of the head. "Blippy!" She flung her arms about the head and began to kiss the wrinkled brow, howling.

Draco lowered his voice and leant into Hermione's ear. "Just thank them for the damned thing and we'll vanish it."

Elves, unfortunately, have very acute hearing and so both of them began to screech protests. "No! No! Is Leesy's mother!"

"Blippy was being good elf! Deserved to have head mounted! Please, young madam!"

Hermione looked at Narcissa, who was leaning with elegant languor against the arm of the divan she was occupying with her husband. No help to be had here, clearly.

"I suppose we could put it, ah…"

"In bedroom? Blippy would be liking to live in the young master and madam's bedroom."

Hermione looked away."No, not right now. Maybe in your sleeping area,Leesy?"

"Yes, in bedroom."

"Or the wardrobe? Would that be all right?"

Leesy nodded, ecstatic, and began to sob with pleasure at the idea. Taking the head, she Apparated away.

An owl thumped the window and Kreacher swiftly went and opened it. A ragged looking barn owl swooped in and dropped a parcel, screeching, before it flew out just as fast. The thing had landed directly in Hermione's lap and she picked it up slowly, feeling a faint warmth and…wetness?

Draco took it from her hand and slowly drew the string away. He knew, at some level, what he would find, but he wasn't prepared for the wave of dizzying that overtook him as the paper fell away and the smell hit him. Narcissa, having just got over the shock of seeing Blippy's head, took one look at the parcel's contents and swiftly fainted.

Gagging, he turned aside as Hermione swiftly took it back, wrapping it loosely and shoving it at Kreacher. "Take this and do something with it, Kreacher. The aurors will want to see."

Lucius,a little white in the face but still composed, slit the seal on the letter." Soon" it said, the smell leaving no doubt as to the medium. He quietly closed it and set it aside, calling for smelling salts for Narcissa and calming draughts for everyone.

The aurors came and could give no help. "Well' said one of them 'I reckon we know what would happened to Fletcher." They had to restrain Hermione from hexing him, and then they left.

That night, Hermione carefully arranged the new quills in Harry's vase. Teddy's drawing had been hung proudly on the near wall, to torment him with when he was older.

"You know, I'm not sure I'll be able to sleep with a severed head in our wardrobe."

"I have a cure for that."

"You've an endless supply of those, haven't you, Draco?"

"Bottomless. Come to bed."

In London, Bellatrix was laughing, sprawled on a bed in the townhouse. Greyback poked his head in and snorted. "Finally lost your mind?"

"The hell with you." She sat up, still chortling, and stood. "Think they liked their wedding gift?"

He smirked. "Oh, yes. She'll like what I have for her even better."

"Not if Narcissa's been training her properly."

"How d'you know it was today?"

She rolled her eyes. "What good is Wormtail if we can't use him?"

"And you're sure he's safe?"

"As long as he keeps his wits about him"

Also in Malfoy manor, Lucius and Narcissa were chatting. "What about a wand stand, then? It's not doing any good just hanging in the dark."

"No, Lucius. No wand stand."

"Cissy, darling, do be fair. No one else would have a house elf sweets dish."

"Lucius, if I should find you eating sweets from that elf's head, I shall be very cross with you."

In Nottingham, Andromeda Tonks heard a faint scraping in her wall and thought nothing of it. She'd put down bait, was all. Perhaps she ought to take Cissy up on her offer of a house elf. Everyone knows how they hate rats.