A/N: Love to reviewers and Countess Black

The husband must see to the wife's every need. He is the wife's reason, as she is his sentiment and his sense of home.

Attilius Goyle

Neither Malfoy was sure what to expect. They'd surmised from Draco's latest missive that he and the girl had finally consummated the marriage, which made them both relieved and a bit sad. They were glad the mudblood was incontrovertibly their son's now, but the very fact of her parentage filled them with both with, to put it mildly, discomfort.

Still, they disembarked from the carriage smiling. Draco was there to meet them, grinning, and he embraced them both with all the usual affection he showed them. Narcissa stroked her son's fringe off his forehead and then looked around worriedly.

"Darling, where's Hermione?"

"She's finalising the details of dinner with Lirry, Mother. The cook."

"Of course. How are the elves working out?"

"Well. Hermione's maid, especially, is quite good. Abominably stupid, of course, but what can one expect?"

They both nodded. "Naturally. She's all right? Hermione?"

"Oh, yes. We spent most of yesterday exploring."

"Draco! After what happened between you, you dragged the poor child all through the castle?"

"She wanted to. I suggested she rest, but she was quite resistant toward it." Draco frowned, wondering why Hermione had acted so funny about it-she'd yielded to him without any emotion, but she'd not wanted to cuddle or be fussed over at all after.

"Should you like me to schedule an appointment with a healer for her?"

"Would you? That would be excellent." He turned, sensing Hermione before she appeared, and beamed as she came out, draped in a light cloak and looking determined.

"Dinner is almost ready. Hello, Mother Malfoy. Father Malfoy." Hermione hated calling them that. She didn't mind as much with Narcissa, but it stung like poison to have to address Lucius Malfoy that way. They both embraced her by way of greeting and, after a few pleasantries, the four walked into the hall.

The elves appeared, bowing low, and passed around trays of cold pumpkin juice for everyone. There was a fire burning in the grate to dissipate some of the damp, which seemed to come from the very stones.

"Hermione, that bracelet is wonderful. Where ever did you get it?" Narcissa smiled at her son, thinking he'd bought the girl a reward for submitting to him. Hermione said 'We found it here, Mother. There were a good many personal effects left."

An elf appeared and grovelled. "Lirry is sorry, Madam! Sorry! Sorry!"

Narcissa was prepared to intervene for the girl when she said, very calmly "Lirry, calm down. Whatever's the matter can't be as bad as all that."

"Worse! We is being out of fresh ginger!"

Hermione blinked. "Do we have any dried?"

"Yes! Terrible Lirry! Awful Lirry!"

"Then let's use that, and please stop wailing, no one minds very much." The elf stopped and threw herself at Hermione, sobbing rapturously about how good and kind Madam was, how forgiving.

"Would you please bring in the cheese now, Lirry?"

Lirry vanished, still sobbing. Narcissa, startled, watched the whole exchange. "Deftly handled, love, but won't you punish the elf responsible for doing the marketing?"

"No, Mother. I've been keeping the elves busy, so it's really my fault. We're very grateful you sent so much food with us, because otherwise we'd have had to interrupt the cleaning to send the elves for things."

Draco nodded. "Quite. Hermione's done beautifully, getting everything running." He gave her a warm smile, and Hermione smiled back, though Narcissa rather thought it had more to do with politeness that the affection she could feel radiating from her son like heat.

"I should like to see the rest of your clothes, Hermione. Lucius, Draco, do you mind entertaining yourselves a moment?"

"Not at all." Lucius gave his son a wink and Draco winked back. "Darling, do show Mother all the things we found you, hmmm?"

Hermione agreed and the women walked silently to the bedroom. Narcissa exclaimed over the view and then sat down at the dressing table. "Are you quite all right, darling?"

"Yes, thank you, Mother." Hermione sat on the bed and stared at a point above just to the left of the woman's head. "He didn't...hurt you?"

"No."

Narcissa nodded and decided that was enough. "And the elves? You find them adequate?"

"They're wonderful. Leesy especially is very good at what she does."

Narcissa nodded. "Madam Mink was a good friend to my mother, Druella Black. She married a much older man-he was seventy five and she eighteen-and they never had children. When he died, she opted not to remarry." She didn't mention that elderly lady's string of lovers, which stretched over a century and included some most interesting names.

Downstairs, Draco and Lucius were enjoying one another's company. "And she didn't resist you?"

"No, Father. She got quiet after, though. Is that normal?"

"Quiet how?"

"Sad. She seemed...dispirited, I suppose."

"Mmm, these things are a shock the first few times. She'll adjust, I'm sure."

Draco nodded. He hadn't tried anything before bed, and had exercised self control despite the raging erection he'd found himself possessed of this morning. It wouldn't do to hurt Hermione by demanding too much too soon.

"But her behaviour is satisfactory?"

"Ideal."

"You hardly seem very pleased about it, love. I should think you'd feel proud of yourself, having made so much progress in so short a time." Lucius certainly was; he gave his son a fond smile, feeling a nearly painful cramp of love for the boy in his chest.

"Well, I'm delighted she's stopped defying me, Father, but...' Draco sipped his juice. Father and Mother, so far as he could tell, had always loved one another totally and been in utter accord; he literally couldn't image them having any sort of serious dispute. Mother had always deferred to Father and Father had always used Mother's comfort and pleasure as his guide in things. And Draco's, of course.

"But?"

There's no pleasure in affection compelled, nor satisfaction in obedience forced rather than given from the desire to please. Hermione was endlessly polite, attentive to her responsibilities, willing to discuss problems reasonably.

"She's unhappy." Draco couldn't sum it up better than that. Father frowned thoughtfully and nodded. "I expect some of it is simply shock, wouldn't you say?"

"Perhaps it was. Now, I think...' Draco summed up the conversation they'd had the night before. Lucius smirked at his son.

"You expected different?"

" I would have thought she'd be relieved, if anything, to know she'd be cared for."

Lucius sighed. "Darling, she'll come to see. All I can suggest is be kind, but very firm, and be consistent. She'll never adjust if she doesn't know what to expect."

"It's hard, Father."

"Of course it is. But you've done splendidly, and will do in the future, I know." Draco smiled at the praise and sipped at his juice. "Harpies won last night?"

"Hmph."

"That's a yes, then." Grinning, the two Malfoy men settled in for a long, pleasant moment of banter and play.

They ladies returned for dinner. Lirry had outdone herself, with a jugged hare, baby lobster salad, dandelion greens in a dressing of cucumber vinegar, fruits glacee and a terrine of sweetbreads, with a blanc mange to follow. And, of course, the white wine, of which Draco was very proud; being master of his own house made him feel a bit like a new father, he thought.

Narcissa waited until the blanc mange had been eaten to speak. "Darling I've decided to make an appointment for you with our medi-wizard. He's served our family for Draco's whole life and then some. You'll love him, I'm sure. He'll help you to feel better, hmm?"

Hermione felt her blood chill a little. "I feel very well, Mother."

"Do you, love? Really? You don't look well. And we've all thought you seem rather withdrawn."

Lucius nodded. "Mother is absolutely right. You'll feel much better, honestly."

Hermione knew better than to argue. She gave Draco a look, which he returned by smiling encouragingly. "We'll be there, Mother. Just tell us the date and time."

"I was thinking-this is Saturday?-Monday at two PM ought to be ideal."

"Don't you have to owl for the appointment?"

All three Malfoys looked amused. "Darling, the medi-wizard will clear his schedule for us."

"That's hardly fair to whomever is there already, Mother."

Draco raised an eyebrow at his father; 'see what I mean?' "It'll be fine, precious. Let us know, Mother."

"Of course. Now, darlings, Father and I will be off. Hermione, I'll be coming back with you Monday so we can continue with your lessons, hmm?"

When they were gone, Draco turned to Hermione, grinning. "What was that, Hermione?"

"Sorry?"

"Let's go upstairs, and we'll talk about it."

In their bedroom, Draco climbed naked under the robes and stretched out luxuriously, warm with food and deeply amused by Hermione's behaviour. How precious! She was scared to go to the medi-wizard. He'd reassure her, and she'd be all right.

"Now, why don't you want to go to the medi-wizard, hmm?"

Hermione slid under the robes as well, dressed in her nightgown. She didn't like the indolence of napping in the middle of the day, but had decided that it wasn't a battle worth fighting.

"Because I don't see any need."

Draco sighed. "You aren't well, darling. We just want you to feel better, is all."

Hermione laid back into the bed. " I feel a little...you said that you'd decide my treatment, Draco. I...hesitate, I suppose to put myself into a stranger's hand with no control at all."

Draco leant over to nuzzle his wife's neck. "Don't you trust us to make the best choices for you?"

Hermione could feel the minefield she'd stepped in. She inhaled deeply and said "It's not that, Draco. I want to be able to take an active part in my own health, is all, because I...wouldn't want to burden any of you." She felt enormously clever for having phrased it that way.

Draco went from being amused to being charmed. "Darling, it isn't a burden. We want to do these things for you. It's our job." He smoothed her hair, gently taking out the braid that Leesy had put it in for their nap.

"But how sweet of you to worry. There, shhhh."

"It might slow down the cleaning, if I'm laid up."

"And that's what elves are for. They don't want you running yourself ragged with minor things, anyway. Nothing is more important than your health." He brought the robe up higher on her chest and gently let his hand trail down to brush her breast.

"Hermione..."

Hermione frowned slightly. "Draco, I think we should discuss this futher."

"Discuss what, darling? I've told you my decision about the medi-wizard. And it'll just be a bit of potion. Not so bad, hmmm?"

Hermione was appalled when she realised her first impulse was to wonder how she could use this to her advantage. But, she reasoned, demanding that Malfoy be reasonable would hardly encourage him to actually be reasonable-likely it would make him clamp down all the harder. She put her mind to beating him at his own game.

How sweet Hermione looked like that, Draco thought, chewing her lip, ringlets carelessly tossed every which way. He was understanding what Father meant by harnessing her own lack of reason to use to manage her; he'd done, he thought, rather cleverly just now.

"Since we'll be out, why don't you think of another place you should like to go?" Draco braced himself for something utterly Hermione like, perhaps Flourish and Blotts. Or perhaps he could convince her to look at something a bit more feminine, like a jewellery store or something.

"I'd like to go and visit my parents."

He blinked. "Your parents?"

"Yes."

"When you're better, love." 'When I can trust you to tell them you're happy with me. When you are happy with me.' He felt better since they'd consummated the marriage, his veela side well sated, but the human part of his mind, the hard pragmatic Malfoy part, didn't want an ugly scene.

Hermione had hoped. She hadn't seen them in forever, and it hurt to even think of them. But in her heart, she wasn't surprised he'd told her no. It confused her sometimes, that Malfoy could say things and mean them, when it came to her happiness, and then do nothing to improve the situation in any meaningful way.

"There's somewhere else, I'm sure. Perhaps a lunch out?" He trailed his lips a little lower and gently brushed her belly with his hands. He'd distract her from the unpleasantness, and then perhaps she'd oblige him.

"If you'd like to, Draco." Hermione knew precisely what he was doing, and she wouldn't be put off so easily. She was finding her inner place, finding the calm in the storm her life was now.

"See, love, this is exactly what we mean. This sort of...inwardness. It's not natural."

She raised her eyebrows. "Why not?"

"Because you're closing us out. You need to talk to us, Hermione. It's all this keeping feelings inside that's made you sick to begin with." Draco said it as one who regards it as axiomatic, which he did.

"Wouldn't it make up upset, my arguing with you?"

"Upset? Annoyed, perhaps. And anyway, you promised to share your feelings with me."

Hermione inhaled deeply. "I feel sad I can't go and see my parents. And reluctant to visit this medi-wizard."

"Why is that?"

"Because I don't like not having control."

He gently smoothed her cheek. "No? But you know you're cared for and safe."

Hermione sighed helplessly. She'd never be able to make him understand. "That's not the point, Draco."

"What is the point?"

She smiled humourlessly. "I feel diminished. Everything Harry and Ron and I did, and...' she felt horribly guilty and selfish for thinking such a thing, but she'd not stop now.

"And?"

"It's not fair." She looked directly at the ceiling. Some long ago hand had painted a scene on it. Witches and wizards danced eternally in a circle, with hounds barking at their feet, silent musicians playing silent tunes on silent instruments. That was how she felt, at the moment: going through the motions, never accomplishing anything.

Draco could smell her sudden burst of grief. It was cold and thin, sharp smelling as a cut lemon, with a sourish, bitter note that disturbed him. He laid down and pulled her close.

"We'll discuss this later, angel. You're very tired right now."

She wasn't. She felt cruelly, fatally lucid, but she also knew protests would fall on deaf ears. Draco was talking to her and she pretended to hear him, unable even to find her inner solitude. Everything was a sort of terrible white noise.

As for Draco, he wasn't tired either. He wanted his wife to be with his whole heart; that, or have a good long cry. To that end, he pressed his mouth to the shell of her ear and whispered comforting little phrases he'd heard since he could remember.

Her eyes were shimmering. He wished Mother were here; surely she'd know what the problem was. Hermione forced herself to breath deeply and the noise started to recede. Despair and self pity made a noxious stew inside her; she'd not give in. To give in would be to become Snape. She forced herself to look at the positives. What could she accomplish? How could she change the situation for the better?

"What if we invited my parents here? The elves could bring them."

"I suppose that would work." Draco felt his heart catch as Hermione actually beamed at him, and even kissed his cheek.

"Really?"

He was happier than he'd been in forever, because his Hermione was happy. He wished he'd done this ages ago. "Yes, darling. I only want you to be happy."