Madam Umbridge Home for Wayward Girls

by A.Lovely.Villain

Hermione's life takes a dark turn after the death of her parents, leaving her at the mercy of a tyrannical Matron. Her new home is more prison than sanctuary, haunted by ghosts bearing terrible, bloody secrets. Though she's surrounded by troubled young women, it's the men in her life who teach her freedom comes at the greatest price of all. Victorian AU, Tomione, Dramione, no triad

21. White Rabbit

A/N: I've been reading some pretty intriguing predictions in the comments… let's see if I can surprise you clever foxes yet ;)

---

Wonderland's become quite strange.

How is one to find her way?

. . .

Tom dismounted the horse with swift efficiency, leading it by the reins to the ominous rod iron gates ahead.

He drew in a deep breath as he peered through the bars at the three-story grey brick building beyond. Gaslights lit the large entry, the rest of the utilitarian building outlined by moonlight.

The sound of crunching gravel at his back caused him to spin around, muscles tense and limbs coiled, ready to strike.

A man in uniform stood at the edge of the drive, face half illuminated by lantern. He gazed at Tom with a quizzical expression.

"Visiting hours are from ten to four, mate, you're way past the cutoff."

Tom drew in a slow, steadying breath, doing his best to keep the beast at bay.

"I'm not visiting. I'm here to discharge a patient."

The man blinked.

"Excuse me?"

Tom took a step forward, movements slow and calculated.

"I'm the physician of a patient who was recently brought in. However, the person who admitted her was mistaken about her condition."

He reached into his leather satchel, withdrawing a thin file. "I have the proper paperwork proving-"

"Whoa, slow down."

The man held his hands up and Tom's fingers clenched around the folder, the urge to throttle nearly overwhelming his senses.

"I'm just on gate duty. You gotta speak to the administrator about that."

"I'd be happy to once you let me inside."

The man's arms lowered to his sides as he slowly shook his head. "The building's closed, everyone's gone home for the night. You'll have to come back when it opens at nine."

"Nine?" He reared back with the force of his shock. "Are you joking? She was admitted barely an hour ago!"

"I'm sorry, mate, I can't let you in past hours, no matter who you are. Only authorized staff can get in and out once the sun goes down."

Tom's eyes narrowed, mind rapidly spinning as he deftly switched tactics.

"You've been manning the gate all night?"

"Yes."

"Then surely you saw the girl they just brought in."

The guard glanced away.

"I saw the carriage come through, but I didn't see the patient."

Tom's jaw tensed, the file bending in his hand. "You can clearly see the front doors of the asylum from where we're standing."

The man swallowed, eyes still averted. Tom's chest tightened.

"What condition was she in?"

The guard rubbed the back of his neck.

"I don't-"

"Just tell me. Was she restrained in any way?"

Tom held his breath as the man sighed deeply, at last meeting his gaze.

"She was unconscious. They had to carry her in."

Red flooded his vision. He blinked rapidly, pulse spiking. The guard took a step back, seeming to sense the dangerous transformation taking place. His hand moved to his side, a discernible bulge beneath the grey coat. Tom's spine went rigid as he forced his reaction to quell.

The fact the asylum felt the need to arm their guards was a disturbing notion, combined with their practice of drugging patients in order to admit them, Tom could only imagine what went on behind closed doors.

"What will it cost to let me through those gates?"

The man blinked, hand hovering halfway to his weapon. He opened and closed his mouth before dropping his arm entirely.

"I would lose my job."

Tom ground his teeth, forcing his grip to loosen on the folder.

"I just need you to deliver this paperwork to whatever administrator is working tonight."

With any luck, it would be a junior member of staff too nervous to defy a Doctor's orders.

The guard looked apprehensive as he stared upon the offered pages. Tom's eyes narrowed.

"I'll give you a pound."

The man jolted, gaze darting up.

"A pound just to deliver the papers?"

"Yes."

He wet his lips, covetous greed taking root in the depths of his eyes, much to Tom's relief.

"It doesn't mean she'll be released."

"The money is yours regardless."

The guard sighed, putting on a piss poor performance as he pretended to deliberate the offer. Tom tasted the sweet nectar of victory on his tongue before the man finally closed the distance between them.

"Alright. Give them to me."

Tom handed the file over and then fished his leather billfold out of his coat lining, removing the note and handing it over as well. The guard's eyes flashed as he accepted the money, staring upon the paper for a long while, as though he'd never encountered a pound so close up. Tom imagined he was paid in shillings.

After a few more seconds the man seemed to collect himself, pocketing the note with great care before glancing back up.

"I'll be right back."

Tom stepped away from the gate as the man removed a set of large iron keys from his belt and slid one into the lock.

The urge to knock him out and proceed inside by himself was strong.

So strong he found himself taking an unconscious step forward.

The horse brayed at his back, as though sensing the direction of his violent thoughts and warning him against such action.

The guard quickly slid through the narrow gap and relocked the barrier.

Tom took a deep breath, stewing in his ire.

It would do no good rendering the guard unconscious.

Even if Tom made it into the building he'd have to bypass an unknown amount of guards and orderlies while searching for Hermione. The building was massive, easily housing hundreds of patients. It would be a fruitless task.

Better to play this one by the book.

Or at least partially by the book, considering the papers he'd handed the man were forged in the span of five minutes. He'd scrawled out the necessary forms before departing the Home in a rush of adrenaline only moments ago. But he was confident in his skills at forgery, having earned pocket change in school by creating false immigration documents for fellow students and their families.

It would take a keen, professional eye to recognize the documents as false. And Tom highly doubted such a person was working the graveyard shift at the local asylum.

But on the off chance they were, Tom expected them to be equally motivated by cash. He harbored no doubt the guard would be eager to earn more money and favor with his colleagues by granting them the opportunity for wealth.

Everyone had their price.

Whether they were being bought or sold.

Within a few minutes, he saw the front door open once more and a familiar figure emerge.

By the stilted pace of the guard's walk and tight set of his shoulders Tom already knew the message he held. His fist tightened around the reins, the horse keening softly beyond his shoulder, obviously attuned to his dismay.

The guard unlocked the gate, movements quick and clumsy, as though dreading the exchange ahead.

He cleared his throat as he slipped back through.

"Sorry, mate."

A shadow passed across Tom's face, fire unleashing in his chest. "This is ridiculous, I'm her primary physician-"

"They say only her legal guardian can release her."

His blood percolated in his veins. "She's eighteen."

"But still a ward of the Commonwealth."

He ran a hand over his face, forcing himself to switch gears once more, the tight pressure of the reins cutting off the circulation in his fingers.

"Who gains custody if her legal guardian is d-" He stopped short, wetting his lips. "If her guardian is indisposed?"

The guard shook his head. "I don't know. You'd need to ask a solicitor or-"

Tom drew back swiftly, shoulders set.

"I'll be back at nine."

The guard blinked, taking a step back as well.

"I don't doubt it."

Tom mounted the horse as the lapping flames reached his eyes, smoke billowing from his lips as he commanded the animal forward, shoulders drawing tight at the realization of what he had to do next.

His gaze narrowed as the horse picked up speed, racing along the gravel drive back to the main road.

It was just the same.

He'd been meaning to pay another visit to his former benefactor anyway.

---

Harry breathed a heavy sigh of relief as the carriage rolled to a stop before Grimmauld.

He'd never felt such a flood of comfort infuse his veins upon seeing the Black ancestral home, even when returning from months away at sea.

The journey he was returning from now felt more treacherous than any he'd faced before. And knowing the battle that continued to lie ahead, crouched in wait, only made him more eager for the comforting embrace of home. Of the familiar and expected.

The front door burst open before he had a chance to fully step down from the driver seat.

Sirius threw his arms around him with such force he staggered back with the impact.

"You have no idea the hell you've put me through, kid." Strong hands braced his shoulders as his godfather drew back, gaze narrowing and voice sharpening. "You said you'd be back by nine."

"I sent Nev and the girls ahead."

"I don't give a shite, you told me you'd be back by nine!"

Harry sighed, glancing away.

"I'm sorry. Something important came up."

Sirius released him, eyes darting to the figure leaning against the carriage in careless repose.

"You recruited Draco as well?" He arched a dark brow, glancing between them. "Lucius is going to shit a brick."

"Potter and I crossed paths while looking for Granger, and my father has no idea where I am. It's best to let sleeping dogs lie."

A low moan sounded at Draco's back.

Both young men pretended not to hear.

Sirius took a slow step back.

"Bloody hell. What have you done?"

Harry held himself with such forced ease it made Sirius tense further.

"It looks a lot worse than it is."

"Harry James Potter. Who's in the carriage?"

Before his godson could respond Draco pushed away from the paneling and opened the door.

A rope bound body toppled out, landing on the packed earth with a dull thud, a muffled shriek of pain emanating from behind the gag.

Harry exchanged a brief but loaded glance with the blonde before looking to his godfather, silently bracing himself.

For several moments Sirius merely blinked.

And then he found his voice.

"Thank god. I thought you'd gone and kidnapped someone, but obviously, Avery is here of his own free will."

More muffled screaming filled the air.

Draco stepped forward, using the toe of his boot to roll the man to his back.

"I wanted to kill him."

Sirius nodded. "Fantastic, that makes me feel so much better."

Harry drew in close. "He had Luna held hostage in his house."

"Then why the hell did you bring him here? He needs to be at the Yard!"

"We can't involve the police in this." Draco's eyes gleamed brightly beneath the full moon. "Hermione could be captive with these people, we can't let them know we're onto them."

"Fucking hell." Sirius ran both hands through his hair, eyes briefly closing. "Get him inside before the neighbors see."

Harry visibly deflated, looking much the ten-year-old boy his godfather still considered him to be. "Thank you, Sirius."

"Don't thank me yet." His eyes snapped open, jaw tensing. "I haven't decided what I'm going to do, but if we linger out here any longer a pedestrian is going to make the decision for us."

Harry and Draco stepped forward and hauled the thrashing figure to his feet, dragging him up the stairs and over the threshold while Sirius rounded out the end of the procession, sweeping his gaze over the empty street before promptly closing and bolting the door.

Neville met them in the entry, shifting anxiously.

"Can I help?"

"You can look dumbfounded in the corner," Draco snapped, elbowing him aside as they continued to drag the man across the marble floors, nearly losing grip on his arm as he convulsed as though in the midst of a seizure. "Stop thrashing! You're arms and legs are bound, how far do you think you're doing to get even if you shake me off?"

"Come now, Drake," Blaise called from the room beyond, sprawled across a chaise with his arms folded behind his head. "It's poor manners to taunt a man after you've gagged him with his own sock."

"What the hell are you doing here, Zabini?" Harry panted as he fought to maintain his hold on their hostage. "I only sent Nev back with the girls."

The man shrugged casually, eyes darting across the room so fast Harry thought he imagined it. As they moved deeper into the foyer he caught sight of Parvati on the opposite couch.

"I wanted to make sure the dames made it home safely, proper gentleman that I am."

Parvati rolled her eyes, earning a cheeky smirk from the man that caused Draco to scowl.

"Fine. If you insist on staying then you're helping us move him."

Neville followed at their heels. "I just offered to help!"

"And while I appreciate the sentiment, Longbottom, you're more likely to cause damage to yourself and the furniture than the actual prisoner."

"Prisoner?" Sirius shook his head, hands tucked into his pockets as he trailed at a leisurely pace. "Let's avoid certain terms now so it'll be easier to convince a judge in the future."

"No one is being arrested!" Harry groaned, hauling the dead weight with added force. "Let's just get him locked in the parlor."

"No." Parvati stood from the couch, her voice a winter chill that seeped into all their bones. "The parlor is too good for him. He locked Luna in a room no larger than a wash closet. I say we stuff the bastard in the linen pantry."

Blaise smiled like a jester as he sat up. "I like that idea."

Draco rolled his eyes. "That's a shock. Why don't you try and win the damsel's favor by getting off your arse, Galahad?"

Blaise sighed deeply in mock offense as he stood, at last, crossing the room with an easy expression and determined step.

"Fine, I'll grab his feet. You gents pick the destination."

Between the three of them, they were able to haul Avery with much ease.

Until they reached the hallway.

As Sirius watched them wedge themselves into the narrow corridor with their prisoner stuffed awkwardly between them he pinched the bridge of his nose.

"It's moments like this I wish parenting came with a manual. I thought giving kids the sex talk would be the greatest hurdle to jump."

Harry grunted with exertion, trying to fit his shoulder through the door frame. "You never gave me the sex talk."

"I don't like jumping hurdles."

"Can you at least open the door?"

"I'm reluctant to aid and abet. One of us needs to be able to post bail."

"Close your eyes and open the door," Blaise panted from the far end, trying to keep hold of the man's bound ankles. "You can claim you thought we were moving a rug into storage. Legal amnesty."

Sirius tilted his head. "That doesn't sound right."

"Mum's fourth husband was a criminal defender, knew all the legal loopholes to protect his rich arse clients."

Draco huffed, cheeks red. "The bloke she poisoned?"

"No, that was the one she stabbed."

"Will you both shut up!" Harry shouted, teeth clenched. "Someone needs to open the goddamn door!"

"Fuck, I'll do it!" Parvati stormed around the opposite corner, coming up behind Blaise and earning a wink for her troubles.

"I like a woman who takes charge."

"I think you'll settle for anything with a pulse."

She pushed past him and swung open the door, quickly scrambling out of the way as they began to pile into the parlor.

"Not necessarily." Draco adjusted his hold. "I've caught him wanking to portraits of Louise de Kérouaille."

Harry groaned as he hoisted Avery higher, rolling his eyes at Blaise's deep laughter.

"What can I say? I'm partial to buxom brunettes."

"And blunt objects to the head and groin, apparently." She smiled sweetly from beyond the threshold, watching them haul their bounty the short distance to the nearest couch.

"Lay him down here," Harry commanded.

They all panted as they dumped his weight and stepped back, Avery exploding to life once more.

"If you roll onto the floor you're staying there."

The man stilled instantly, though his scowl remained decidedly fixed, poisonous gaze latching onto each of them in turn. Harry held his eye with an equally acidic look.

"You're lucky to be alive. Two of the three people standing in this room wanted to put a bullet in your skull."

The man beneath them paled, flesh turning as white as the gag between his lips.

Harry nodded slowly. "I suggest you continue staying out of sight and out of mind."

He led the way back into the hall, closing the door on their captive as soon as the others exited. Sirius stood at the wall, hands still resting in his pockets though his expression was tense.

"I take it you had no luck finding Mione?"

Harry shook his head, sighing deeply and running his hand through his hazardous hair, eyes drifting shut.

"When's the last time you slept?"

His lids snapped open. "I'm fine."

"You aren't doing her any good if you're dead on your feet."

He took a deep breath, standing taller. "I'm fine."

Sirius eyed him carefully. "At least you're home."

"I'm heading back out."

"What?"

Draco moved forward. "I'm going with you."

"Hang on-"

"We can't stop looking, Sirius."

"Where the hell are you going to go? You can't search the entire city with your bare hands."

"We can try."

Harry blinked as his godfather grabbed his arm, halting his path down the hall. "What aren't you telling me?"

"What?"

"Who's after her? Who's hot on her heels?"

Harry opened and closed his mouth, exchanging a look of confusion with Draco.

"Your guess is as good as mine."

Sirius stared at him in silence for several strained beats, eyes roaming his face with meticulous precision until his stance eased back at long last.

"You swear to god you aren't withholding information from me?"

Harry's own eyes narrowed, fists clenching at his sides. "Yes!"

Sirius took a deep breath, sweeping his own hair off his forehead and glancing away.

"Then you need to find Riddle."

Harry and Draco went still as stone, rocking precariously on their feet with the weight of the announcement.

Blaise glanced between them, brow raised.

"Who's Riddle?"

Parvati stepped forward, arms crossed as she addressed the eldest of the group. "How do you know him?"

Sirius met her eye.

"He came by tonight."

Draco and Harry burst free from their frozen stance, leaping forward at the same moment and expelling the same shocked syllable.

"What!"

Blaise smirked. "That was fun, do it again." Only to grunt in pain as Parvati elbowed him in the side, pushing past to get to Sirius.

"He came by tonight? Without her?"

Draco blinked, glancing between them so rapidly his hair fell free of its immaculate position. "Why the hell would she be with him? Why is he coming here?"

Harry ignored his inquiries, instead spinning on his heel to pin Parvati with the full intensity of his accusing glare.

"She took off on me to track him down, didn't she?"

She bit her lip and looked to the ground. Harry advanced on her mindlessly.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me that when she first went missing!"

Blaise stepped in between them, bracing a hand against Harry's chest, halting him mid-step.

"Watch it, Potter."

She rolled her eyes, forcefully pushing her would-be savior out of the way and advancing on Harry with just as much steam.

"And what good would it have done other than rile you up further? We had no idea where to find either of them, regardless if they were separate or together. But I knew if you had even the slightest suspicion he was involved you'd go apeshite trying to find him instead of looking for Luna!"

Harry opened and closed his mouth, but before a response could surface Draco stepped beside them, shouting above the fray.

"Everyone, shut up!"

They both directed their scowls upon him.

"Only one person speaks at a time," he snapped, carding his fingers through his hair and narrowing his mercurial gaze. "And since Parvati seems to have the firmest grasp on whatever the fuck is going on, she gets the floor."

She pursed her lips as the two men bored down upon her. Blaise rubbed the sore muscle at his arm, her point of impact when she shoved him away moments before, only to step to her side again, shooting both men a warning glare.

Draco held his friend's gaze for a long beat before reluctantly moving back.

"Alright." He took a deep, fortifying breath, scraping together the meager self-control left within his mental stores. "What the hell does the Doctor have to do with any of this?"

---

Tom took the steps leading to the front of the brownstone two at a time, despite the fact he was dreading reaching its door.

Once he arrived at his destination he didn't linger, bringing his fist against the wood three times in rapid succession, taking a deep breath and repeating the motion until he heard a distant and muffled shout on the other side.

The barrier gave way, revealing a set of startled eyes that he could never seem to escape.

"Tom? What-"

"You freed Greyback."

The man across from him blinked two more times before sighing heavily and stepping back, gesturing to the darkened interior of the home.

"Come in."

Tom brushed past, every line of his body drawn taut. The door closed softly at his back, driving out the moonlight and leaving both men submerged in the soft glow of oil lamps.

"Can I offer you-"

"I told you to stay out of my way and you went behind my back." Tom spun on his heel, eyes gleaming hellishly.

The man standing before him remained frustratingly unaffected.

"On the contrary, I only recall you asking for the keys to the shipyard and my reluctant acquiesce. I never agreed to stay out of your business, and I never will. You may be a man grown but you will always be a boy in my eyes."

"You freed a killer." Tom took a menacing step forward. "A rapist. A violent sociopath."

"I freed you from enduring yet another black mark on your soul."

Tom stopped just before him, fists clenched tightly, feeling like an impotent child once more. "It wasn't your decision to make!"

"I beg to differ." The utter calmness of his voice only raised Tom's hackles further. "You tortured a man on private property I own. You left him to bleed out. What if a stray dockhand had come across his remains in the morning? I would be directly correlated with the murder."

Tom drew back at last, desperate for distance, for space. "I wasn't going to leave him until morning."

"Semantics. The bottom line is you agreed to my interference the moment you came to me for those keys. We both know you could have found somewhere else to take him. You're the most resourceful man I've ever met. But you showed up at my door."

"I didn't have time to look for-"

"You came to me because deep down you know I will clean up whatever wreckage is left behind by your destructive nature."

Tom reared back, evading the lamplight and submerging half his visage in a pool of darkness.

"Your meddlesome bullshite is the last thing I've ever wanted!"

"My meddlesome bullshite got you off the streets and into Cambridge. It paved the way for you to enter medical school. And last night it saved you from killing a man you obviously were reluctant to kill. Otherwise, he would have been dead when I found him."

Tom swallowed thickly, the words getting caught and jumbled in his throat, everything he meant to say this night rapidly dispersing before reaching his tongue.

"The only reason I didn't slit his throat was-"

He stopped himself just in time, refusing to expose yet another damning secret to the man that possessed all the others.

"Yes?"

Tom shook his head, eyes narrowing in warning. "Nevermind. What's done is done. Where did you take him?"

A deep sigh.

"To the nearest Hospital."

"St. Mary's."

"Yes."

"I'm sure he's already discharged himself and is prowling the streets for new victims."

His companion ran a hand over his face, deep seeded weariness ever present in his ethereal gaze.

"Did you come here simply to berate me? If so I'd like to have a seat and get comfortable, the rain has been hazardous on my joints."

"I came here because you owe me."

The man blinked several times before the corners of his lips eventually turned up, making Tom's blood pressure rise.

"Excuse me?"

"You set a killer free and now I have to clean up your mess. And I can't do so until I take care of another matter which needs your brand of-"

"Meddlesome bullshite?"

Tom scowled.

"I need to get custody of a ward of the Commonwealth. Tonight."

A heavy beat passed. Pale eyes blinked.

"I think now is the perfect time to take that seat."

Tom's jaw clenched as he reluctantly followed his former benefactor into the drawing room, hands flexing at his sides as he waited impatiently for the man to sit upon an upholstered chair. He gestured to the couch and Tom pointedly ignored the offering, opting to gaze down upon him instead.

He sighed deeply, settling back into the cushions and holding Tom's eye without intimidation.

"Now perhaps you can explain to me why this is such a pressing matter at midnight?"

"I don't have to explain anything."

A brief, tense pause.

"Are you always this irritable or am I the lucky recipient of all your hostility?"

Tom raised his chin. "This isn't about you and me, this is about getting an innocent girl out of an asylum where she'll undergo barbaric treatments until her mind all but breaks!"

"This is the same girl you came to me about the other day? Luna?"

Tom glanced away, hands twitching.

"No. This is someone else."

"And you still haven't found the first girl?"

His shoulders drew back.

"No."

"Then shouldn't that be your main priority? At least you know where the other girl is. It seems that Luna is in more peril."

"I didn't come here for your opinion."

"No." A heavy sigh. "Of course not. You came here for my help, which you believe is owed to you, and then to storm out without so much as a parting word."

He tilted his head, eyes roaming Tom's tightly wound frame with a knowing glimmer in their depths.

"I will agree to help you under one condition."

Tom's fists tightened.

"And what is that?"

"I want you to answer one question. Honestly."

Tom's back stiffened, braced for whatever battle lay ahead.

"I want to know why you hate me so."

The silence pressed upon him, a suffocating weight that expelled all the air from his lungs.

And suddenly, all the words that evaded him moments ago came rushing back in a torrential downpour, the floodgates opening and the truth spewing from his lips in an explosion of volcanic ash.

He drew in a sharp breath.

"I hate you for not hating them."

The target of his animosity blinked, face paling.

Tom wet his lips, advancing on the chair slowly.

"I hate you for freeing yourself of this burden. This obsession." He swallowed thickly. "Because I can't escape it. And I know I never will. Not until every single one of them is dead. And even then, I can't imagine a life that isn't comprised of hunting, waiting, watching," His eyes glowed in the dim light. "Killing."

He took another step forward, sliced another vein open.

"You say there's another way. A path you discovered after years of searching. A path you now walk with ease."

His hands opened and closed convulsively, reaching for something that forever evaded his grasp.

"But I can't follow you down it. Even if I wanted to. It isn't in my nature. My make-up. I'm a killer. A predator. Somedays I question if I'm any different than the men and women I'm hunting."

As the recipient of his confession opened his mouth to respond Tom held up a silencing hand, closing the last bit of distance between them.

"You wanted honesty. There it is. I hate you because you were able to free yourself of the Dollmaker. Even after everything he took from you. But I'll always be enslaved by him, I'll always be just another one of his victims. Another one of his creations."

Haunted eyes gazed steadily up at him, the intensity of their focus piercing him to the core. He glanced away sharply, voice thickened at the edges.

"I need you to pull whatever strings need pulling. Leverage whatever office is in charge of such record keeping. I need to become Hermione Granger's legal guardian by 9am today."

Silence greeted him. Tom finally chanced a glance over his shoulder.

"Hermione Granger." The man said her name as though testing the words on his tongue.

"The name sounds familiar."

A measured pause.

"I believe we have certain friends in common."

Tom's eyes narrowed.

"We both know you do." He crossed his arms. "And if it's easier appointing one of them as her guardian so be it. As long as it's someone with her best interest in mind."

"I take that to mean her current guardian doesn't have such concern for her welfare?"

"He's dead."

A resigned sigh echoed through the room.

"I see you've obtained another black mark despite my best efforts."

"I don't know why you bother trying to save my soul. It's far too late for redemption. My sins are stacked too high."

"I will never give up on you, Tom."

He shook his head, heading for the doorway. "Spend your remaining years however you like. Just see to it you get Hermione transferred to me."

"I'll send a message first thing in the morning. I believe I have a contact in the Family Services Office who owes me a favor."

"Of course you do."

He began to round the corner.

"That's it then?"

"That's it."

"Tom, wait."

Tom sighed, reluctantly stopping just past the threshold, one hand bracing the frame as he fought back a cringe, knowing what was in store.

"You say you are beyond redemption, and I know which of your crimes you are most unsettled by. The one that haunts you to this day. But look at what you're doing now."

Tom continued to face away as he heard him stand, followed by the slow pace of footsteps.

"You allowed a man you wanted dead to live last night. Regardless of your reasons, you walked away before ending his life. And now your greatest concern is saving a girl from an undeserving fate. Not hunting. Not killing. You've found an appreciation for human life, whether you meant to or not."

Tom inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as he heard the footsteps stop just at his back.

"And you'll always find the upside to any situation, no matter how dire."

"It's in my nature."

"It's annoying."

A low laugh. "So I've been told."

Tom finally dropped his arm, slowly turning and meeting the pale eyes at last, though he could think of nothing more to say.

"Take care of yourself, Tom. Just because you've chosen to lead a life of solitude doesn't make your actions any less impactful on the world around you."

Tom held his gaze for a handful of fleeting seconds before glancing away sharply, turning once more on his heel and striding for the exit.

He heard a low sigh at his back as he opened the door.

"Goodnight, Tom."

He exited the residence without a backward glance.

---

Hermione stifled a pained gasp as Wilson dragged her up the stairs by her arm, pulling her into a long hallway lined by endless grey metal doors. It looked more prison block than dormitory, and the muffled screams and thumps from beyond the barriers served as a chilling reminder of exactly where she was.

He hauled her along with one hand and held a lantern aloft with the other, casting a bubble of orange light across the path directly ahead, the rest of the long hall submerged in blackness.

"Keep it down!" He screamed at one point, causing her to jolt as the frantic wailing seemed to intensify each time they passed a room, the small glass windows encased in each door revealing their presence as they progressed.

"Fucking animals."

She cringed. His eyes snapped down to her.

"You see dead people, right?"

Hermione blinked, opening and closing her mouth. He seemed to take that as answer enough, groaning as he gazed ahead once more.

"The hot ones are always out of their minds."

She quickly glanced away. His grating laughter met her ears, causing her skin to prickle.

"Christ, tough crowd."

A moment later they stopped before a door at the far end of the hall, as ominous as all the others. He released her to pull a ring of metal keys off his belt, unlocking the heavy bolt at the front and pushing the door open with his shoulder. As she watched him struggle beneath its weight her dreams of escaping purgatory on her own quickly split apart at the seams.

He entered the room and replaced the keys, affording her a brief moment of privacy as she hovered in the doorway, gazing into the moonlight bathed interior with wide, horror-stricken eyes.

It wasn't a room at all.

It was a padded cell.

The only other items within were a utilitarian cot against the wall and a narrow window near the ceiling, too high to reach even if she stood on the bed and too narrow for even her petite form to wedge through.

Her hopes of escape were further dashed, creating an expansive hollowness in her chest as Wilson stepped forward and wrenched her past the threshold.

"Alright, off to bed with you, pretty one."

She reared back as he pulled at the collar of her dress, stretching the fabric until she managed to twist out of his grasp.

"What are you-"

"I have to help you get changed, you're still unsteady on your feet."

She shook her head, rapidly backing away until her spine collided with the course padding.

"No, please, I can do it myself."

He tipped his chin up, eyes narrowing.

"Fine."

She breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

Until she saw the cruel smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"Strip."

She blinked, the blood draining from her head in a powerful rush, leaving her breathless and dizzy.

"What?"

"Down to your shift."

She shook her head again, too terrified to speak, pressing back into the barrier with all her strength.

"Want help?" He took a menacing step forward, hand outstretched.

"No!" She raised both arms protectively over her front, trembling violently. "I'll do it!"

He smiled, stopping just before her and holding the lantern out, illuminating her pale figure for his viewing pleasure. The light played tricks on her exhausted vision, a hazy mirage appearing at the corner of her eye.

She ignored it, refusing to take her gaze off the hungry beast at her front.

"While we're still young."

She closed her eyes, swallowing thickly as she swayed on her feet, lightheadedness rapidly increasing as she fumbled clumsily with the stays at her hips and back.

But she fought to stay conscious long enough to remove her own clothing, harboring no doubt Wilson would only be too happy to strip her bare the moment she passed out.

She slid her arms free of the sleeves, gooseflesh spreading rapidly over her exposed flesh, the room feeling unnaturally chilled all of a sudden, as though a winter draft was billowing in.

She glanced quickly to the window but it remained sealed.

"Cold?"

Fear sealed her throat. She ignored his question and amused laughter as she pushed her dress over her hips, pressing back into the wall the moment it pooled at her feet.

His eyes roamed her in silence for several minutes, or perhaps several hours, as time and reality seemed to be evading her as of late.

She turned her face away as his gaze darkened, lingering on her chest, her nipples hardening in the cold as they pressed against the thin material of her shift.

She wondered if he would violate her despite the strict instructions of the Doctor. She wondered if she could survive another attack. If she'd have enough of her soul left afterward to be considered a living being.

She heard him set into motion and she closed her eyes, braced for his hands upon her, the heat and stench of another unwanted body pressing against her, clawing and devouring.

She unconsciously grasped the frayed ribbon at her wrist, suddenly recalling its presence. Her memories of the night were as fractured as broken glass, the details of how this particular accessory came to be in her possession as faded as its color.

But it was a great comfort, one she desperately clung to and prayed he wouldn't take from her.

But he seemed more concerned with other things.

"This will warm you up."

She blinked as she heard him move away, turning her head forward as he stepped to the wall and removed something hanging from a hook bolted into the padding. The darkness of the room made it hard to see what it was, though from a distance it appeared to be a blanket.

Her brows creased, distrustful of any gesture of kindness, especially from him.

The lantern revealed his eager smile as he drew near and her worst fears were proven true as the item came into view at last.

She scrambled into the corner, nails raking the padding as she tried to burrow through.

"I don't need that!"

His teeth gleamed as a grin split his face in half. "I beg to differ. Until we can get you onto a stable medication schedule you pose a danger to yourself and others."

"How can I harm myself or others when I'm locked in a padded cell!"

"The crazy ones always think creatively."

"Please-"

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way." He licked his lips, leaning down to set the lantern on the ground. "I think you know which I prefer."

She squeezed her eyes shut, tears leaking from the corners, framing her face in abject misery. She took a shaky step forward, resigned to her situation, determined to do whatever it took to get this creature out of her room.

She held her arms aloft, biting her lip to stifle her cries as he stepped behind her and began sliding the straitjacket into place.

She swallowed thickly as he fastened the straps at the back, glancing down at her body, trying to keep her rising panic at bay by reminding herself her chest was at least covered now.

"Comfy?"

She drew in a deep, unsteady breath, sanity wearing thin.

"You're good to go, princess." His voice was right at her ear, causing her to jolt. Large hands grasped her hips from behind, holding her in place. A moment later she felt his body pressing alongside her spine, his face brushing against her hair.

"You smell like smoke." She swayed once more, spots appearing before her vision. "We'll have to give you a good scrub down tomorrow." The restraining fingers dug into her flesh painfully before releasing her all at once, leaving her to stagger in relief and shock.

He picked the lantern up, illuminating half his pleased expression as he stood before her.

"Sweet dreams. Don't stay up too late talking to ghosts."

He winked, then chuckled to himself all the way to the door. She sank to the floor the moment the heavy barrier slammed shut with him blessedly on the other side. His laughter continued to ring down the hallway, along with mocking remarks to other patients, before his footsteps disappeared entirely.

Hermione continued to sit in the pool of moonlight, gazing blankly at the door with tears welling in her eyes, vision blurred.

But still sharp enough to see the outline of the figure standing in the darkened corner.

She set her jaw with determination, pulling futilely against her binds until sweat collected along her nape.

New mocking laughter began, as deeply disturbing as it was frustrating. She gasped in exhaustion, finally giving up the struggle and slumping against the wall, directing her eyes to the occupied corner at long last.

"You aren't real."

The blackened corpse tilted its head.

"Are you sure about that?"

Her heart beat through her chest as visceral fear set in.

An apparition had never spoken to her before.

The delusions are evolving.

I truly am mad.

She tentatively wet her lips, voice strained. "You're dead."

More laughter emanated from the shadows.

"No argument on that front."

She pushed away with her legs, back still pressing the wall. "What do you want from me?"

"What I've always wanted, Hermione. To take care of you."

She shook her head, scrambling awkwardly to her feet with great effort and crossing to the opposite end of the room, sitting upon the cot and pressing against the headboard.

"You want to drive me insane. You're a vengeful spirit." She drew her legs up, resting her forehead against her knees. "At least I hope that's what you are. Otherwise, I may truly belong in this room for the rest of my life."

His answering sigh echoed through her head.

"You could be touring the Italian countryside right now, drinking fine wine and watching the sunset over the rolling vineyards… if only you'd accepted my offer."

She shook her head, swallowing thickly.

"I'd just be a prisoner in a different type of cell."

"Was I really so awful?"

"Yes."

A weighted pause. "More awful than the fate that awaits you at the hand of the Dollmaker?"

She released a strained breath and dragged her weary gaze up, staring into the corner and shivering as the moonlight glanced off the empty sockets of his skull, his lipless mouth set in a grotesque parody of a smile.

"It may not be him." She nodded, as though trying to convince herself. "It can't be. What are the chances I was delivered directly to his door..."

Another humorless laugh grated at her skin.

"You know the truth in your heart, even if that clever brain of yours hasn't caught up yet." A weighted pause. "Besides, why else would I be here if not to protect you against the man I tried to save you from in life?"

She sat up, thoughts sluggish even as her resolve strengthened.

"He won't succeed. I'll find a way out." Her shoulders tensed beneath the oppressive weight of the jacket. "My friends will help me."

"Your friends have no idea where you are, sweetling."

She shuddered violently.

"Don't call me that."

He tipped his head, loose skin dangling from his exposed cheekbone, following the path she'd made with the scalpel. "Or else what? You'll kill me?"

She turned her body away as the mocking laughter resumed, laying down upon the cot and facing the padded wall, willing her madness at bay.

"You can't ignore me, Hermione. You've ensured I'll never leave you again."

Swaying branches fractured the moonlight, causing it to dance along the wall before her face. She sought out patterns in the pale fabric of the padding, looking for images, anything to distract from the sound of movement at her back, the broken gait of dragging footsteps across the floor.

"You keep what you kill, sweetling. Didn't he tell you that? Or was he more concerned with getting you on your back?"

Tears ran along the bridge of her nose as she fought to ignore the voice, the ominous shuffling drawing closer and closer.

"The lives you take become a part of you."

Her heart thundered in her chest, blood rushing through her ears.

"Forever."

She felt his presence as clearly as if she was gazing upon him. The air shifted as his skeletal hand drew near, two fingers missing.

Her eyes scanned the wall frantically, at last seeing a pattern in the fabric, latching onto the faint outline of a rounded body and long ears.

The hand curled around her shoulder, tearing a horrified gasp from her throat as an arctic chill filled her lungs.

"White rabbit," she whispered with the same frozen breath, vision hazed by tears, the creature's faint outline radiating before her eyes as though coming to life on the wall.

And just as suddenly, the cold, dead weight at her shoulder disappeared. The air shifted once more, the oppressive presence gone. She turned over on instinct, eyes wide.

Dolohov was nowhere in sight.

But something else was.

A familiar apparition levitated at the opposite end of the room, long hair swaying in an invisible current as she watched Hermione with her signature serene expression.

Hermione blinked rapidly, face glistening with tears.

"Thank you," she whispered, voice thickened with emotion, knowing in her heart the floating figure was somehow responsible for Dolohov's disappearance.

The girl tipped her head, countenance unchanging, seemingly content to simply hover and watch.

Her presence was a deep comfort. A warm blanket wrapping her tight.

Hermione wet her lips.

"Will you stay?" She took a deep breath. "Until I fall asleep?"

The girl didn't respond, just as Hermione knew she wouldn't. But she read the acquiesce in her pale, guileless eyes.

Hermione turned to the wall once more, the outline of the rabbit startling clear now that she knew where to look, a pulsating beacon she clung to as she felt the calming presence at her back, eyelids weighted by the leftover drugs still swarming through her system.

And as she closed her eyes at long last she felt the cot drop out from under her, her body submerging beneath the cold river of ink for the second time that evening.

She surrendered to the powerful current, willing it to pull her under.

To drown her completely.

---

Draco stood eerily still at the far end of the study, arms crossed as he gazed out of the window to the overgrown garden beyond.

The others exchanged loaded glances behind his back.

Sirius opened his mouth, prompting Harry to shake his head.

"Give him space."

Parvati leaned forward. "Is he… alright?"

Blaise sighed from his spot beside her. "He tends to shut down when he's at his limit."

Hannah bit her lip, having just returned downstairs after getting Luna settled in a guest bedroom. She caught the tail end of the explosion before the eye of the storm encapsulated them all in unnerving calm.

"Are Draco and Hermione… involved?"

Harry ran a hand through his hair as he leaned back, resting an ankle on his knee. "Something like that."

Neville cleared his throat, fidgeting awkwardly. "I thought it was just casual."

"He'd be content to let everyone think that. Including Granger. He doesn't like to display any vulnerability." Blaise rested an arm over the back of the couch, prompting Parvati to roll her eyes and scoot away, pressing further into Hannah's side.

"Such a man."

He smirked. "To which of us are you referring, darling?"

She pointedly ignored him, glancing to Harry instead.

"Maybe someone should talk to him?"

Harry's hands curled over the arms rests, jaw tensing. "I'm not the right candidate. I'm as pissed as he is. The next time I see Riddle I'm going to-"

A heavy pounding at the door rendered them all mute.

Sirius leaned in, grabbing the glass of scotch he poured moments ago. "Wonderful. I'm sure only great news awaits us."

Hannah turned to Neville, grabbing his arm and causing a brilliant flush to appear on his cheeks and neck. "Do you think it's about Avery?"

Harry stood, spine rigid. "I have a connection in the Yard, if worst comes to worst we just tell them the truth."

Sirius drained his glass in an impressive swig before hauling to his feet beside him. "Telling the truth is the worst case scenario. I'm back in the running for parent of the year."

He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Stay here, I'll take care of whoever it is."

Harry nodded, fists clenched and shoulders braced as he watched his godfather walk to the entry. Everyone held their breath as he turned the corner and disappeared from sight, the silence stretching, creating an endless vacuum until at last the sound of the opening door could be heard.

Harry swallowed heavily, heartbeat reverberating through his ears as the low sound of voices echoed down the hall.

He recognized Sirius's voice immediately.

The other took a full beat to process.

The moment he realized who their visitor was his eyes snapped to Draco. The blonde came to the same conclusion half a second later.

And all hell broke loose.

"Draco, don't!"

The blonde sprinted the length of the room faster than Harry had ever seen a human being move, his form a blur as he darted past. Harry exploded into action a moment too late, losing any hope of catching him in time. The others gasped and shouted, lurching to their feet in shock and confusion as Harry chased the man into the hall.

Their boots pounded the marble as they raced for the door. Both men standing in the entry spun around, Sirius with his brows creased and their guest with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

Sirius backed away just in time to miss Draco's swinging arm as the blonde drove his fist towards Riddle's head. The Doctor caught his wrist and twisted his arm, earning a feral growl from Draco's throat as he was forced to pivot, the limb pinned behind his back within seconds.

Harry scowled at the sight, leaving his momentum unchecked as he crashed into the pair full force, sending all three crashing to the hard marble with groans of pain.

They landed separate from each other but Harry recovered first, crawling to the Doctor's side and driving a fist into his side. Riddle hissed and drove his knee upward, prompting Harry to retreat just in time to avoid being clipped in the jaw.

Draco joined his side in the next beat, diving for the Doctor.

Sirius stood at the wall, watching the scene unfold on the ground with a bored expression before carefully stepping over their tussling forms and closing the door.

The others raced into the room, freezing beneath the archway.

"Christ!" Parvati shouted, then glanced at Blaise. "Do something!"

He blinked. "You mean join in?"

She rolled her eyes, looking to Neville next.

"Stop them!"

Neville rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding her eye. "I don't know what side I'm on either."

By the time they glanced forward, Harry was sporting a blackened eye while Riddle licked blood from his split lip, both men staggering to their feet.

Only for Draco to push Harry aside, charging the Doctor around the middle, driving them both to the ground once more.

"You fucking bastard! I'm going to tear you apart with my bare hands!"

The Doctor punched him in the kidney even as he took a hit to the jaw, both grunting in pain. He managed to roll the blonde off, narrowly dodging Harry's kicking boot, sweeping his own legs out and knocking Harry clear off his feet. He collided hard with the wall as he fell, knocking a portrait loose, the heavy frame cracking on impact with the ground.

Sirius shook his head.

"If you're going to destroy the house at least take the fight upstairs, I've been looking for an excuse to toss out mum's portrait for decades."

The three men rolled clumsily on the floor, covered in sweat and various injuries, clothing a rumpled mess. Riddle wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, smearing blood across the five o'clock shadow on his jaw as he pulled himself up against a decorative column.

"Would you rather continue this exercise in futility or would you like to know where Hermione is?"

Harry froze in place halfway to standing, but the words only seemed to spur Draco on further.

"You're the reason she was taken!"

The blonde staggered unsteadily to his feet, sporting a small laceration above his left eye, blood running a thin line down his cheek as he charged the man yet again.

Harry dove forward, knocking him off course before he reached his destination and driving them both into a decorative table, which promptly collapsed beneath their shared weight.

"Stop! He knows where she is!"

Draco pushed him away with a murderous scowl. "Then why the fuck isn't she with him?"

Riddle moved away from the column, crossing towards the pair without an ounce of trepidation.

"Because I can't get access to her." He stopped at their side, looking remarkably composed with his bloodied lip and bruised jaw. "At least not until the morning."

Sirius walked up next, offering Harry his hand and hauling him to his feet as he spoke over his shoulder.

"Explain."

Before Riddle could open his mouth Draco was roaring like an angry dragon, tensed to pounce. Harry groaned, stepping between them with his arms out. "Draco! Stop!"

He tried to catch the silver gaze with his own but the blonde's eyes were fastened to his target standing only feet away. For his part, the Doctor made no effort to retreat, instead electing to watch the men struggle against each other with casual detachment.

Heels clicked across the tile at a determined pace. A moment later Parvati stood at their sides, her small hands managing to push Harry aside as she slipped herself between them and slapped Draco with all the strength in her body.

His head snapped powerfully to the side, a red handprint blossoming across his pale flesh, a perfect compliment to the gleaming blood.

He blinked rapidly, struggles ceasing as he gazed down upon her in shock. Harry wore a matching expression, jaw hanging loose with his forgotten words.

She drew her shoulders back, chin tipping high as she glared down her nose at them both.

"Get your shite together! This isn't about who has the best punch or the biggest cock! This is about finding Hermione!"

She directed the full force of her fury upon Draco, causing him to step back. "If you really care about her you'll put your differences aside for however long it takes to find her!"

Draco stared upon her for another long beat before glancing at Harry, and then to Riddle, eyes glittering like silver daggers.

But he stayed rooted to the spot, fists tight at his side.

Riddle held his gaze with the steady calm of a predator, leaving Harry glancing between them, arms still raised, ready to break them apart at a moment's notice.

Parvati eventually stepped back to the group, oblivious to the look of awe Blaise bestowed upon her as she retook her place at Hannah's side.

Draco inhaled deeply through his nose, spine lengthening as he straightened his coat and ran a hand through his hair, realigning the strands.

"Where is she?"

Riddle licked the blood from his lip once more, pressing his hand to the cut and examining his fingertips.

"Rutledge Mental Asylum."

Hannah gasped, clutching Parvati's arm.

Harry staggered back.

"Who the hell committed her?" Sirius demanded.

"The Matron of the Home."

Draco blinked. "Why would she do such a thing?"

"Because she's a right bitch." Parvati snapped with venom, earning the men's attention. "And she has it out for Mione especially."

Sirius shook his head. "Even so, she'd need valid grounds to have her committed."

Parvati met the Doctor's eye. She opened her mouth, only to close it once more as he gave an imperceptible shake of his head. The others were too distracted by the revelation to notice the silent exchange.

"Not all establishments are known for their reputable admission policies," Riddle provided, eyes darkening. "One accusation is often enough to have someone committed without investigation. Especially if they don't have family to speak on their behalf."

Harry's shoulders tensed. "We're her family."

"Not legally," Draco said, voice edged in steel. "And that's what matters." He looked to Riddle once more. "But you can get her released?"

He nodded. "I'm working on it. But on the off chance something falls through, I hoped one of you could assist, given your rank and connections."

Harry glanced at Sirius.

"Who do we know that can help?"

His godfather sighed. "We'd need a proper solicitor-" He broke off as Harry and Draco shared a heavy look. "Christ. What now?"

Harry ran a hand over his face. "Dolohov is her guardian."

Sirius arched brow. "I thought he only controlled her estate?"

"Her wealth and autonomy are one and the same," Draco said with no small amount of spite.

The Doctor gave him a carefully assessing look while his back was turned.

Sirius nodded. "Then we can get him to-"

"He's dead," Harry said without emotion.

His godfather blinked.

"Or at least I think he is," he added as an afterthought. "And if he's not, he soon will be."

Sirius rubbed his eyes. "I don't even know how to begin unpacking that."

"Then don't," Draco snapped. "All that matters now is transferring Hermione's guardianship."

The Doctor placed his hands in his pockets. "I'm trying to get it transferred to myself."

Draco rounded on him instantly. "You?" He took a menacing step forward, fists raising. "No fucking way-"

"As her primary physician it would be a sound decision for the Court to make in lieu of blood relatives," he responded with narrowed eyes, seemingly unphased by the renewed threat the blonde posed. "However I'm perfectly fine with anyone in this room gaining custody if the Judge is willing to sign off on it."

Neville shifted forward.

"What if someone else already has custody?"

Draco froze mid-step, glancing at him sharply. Neville flushed.

"If Dolohov is dead, or even missing, someone has to inherit his active cases, his clients, right?"

Sirius nodded. "That's very likely. A man like Dolohov would surely have a contingency plan in place." He glanced at the Doctor. "If there's an existing contract it may negate anyone else's claim."

Shadows danced across his face. "Does anyone know who's next in line? Did he have any partners?"

"Not that I know of." Draco's body tensed. "But I can find out."

Harry raised a brow. "Your father?"

The blonde nodded.

"If word has spread about Dolohov I can pretend I'm asking out of sheer curiosity."

"He'll see right through your rouse. Look at the state you're in."

Draco scowled.

"Do you have a better plan?"

"I'm going to break into his office," Riddle said evenly, causing Draco to face him once more. He met his eye without hesitation. "To see if I can find Hermione's original contract."

Harry took a step forward. "I'm coming with you."

Draco's eyes narrowed, jaw ticking.

"Why are you doing this?"

Riddle tipped his head, voice carefully void of inflection. "Doing what?"

"Don't play dumb. I've sat across the poker table from you. I know your tells as well as you know mine."

The Doctor drew to his full height, eyes flashing.

"We shouldn't waste any more time."

Harry took another step forward, casually situating himself between both men. "Agreed."

Sirius sighed at their backs. "This is where I tell you committing more than one major felony in a day is a terrible idea."

"It's after midnight. Technically we're onto day two."

"Ah, nevermind then."

The Doctor glanced between them.

"What other felony has been committed?"

"None of your business," Draco snapped.

Parvati rolled her eyes. "We kidnapped Jonathan Avery. After we found Luna at his house."

Riddle took a step back, visibly reeling.

"You've found her?"

"No thanks to you," Draco added lowly, grinding his teeth.

Riddle didn't spare him a glance, still focused upon Parvati. "Is she alright?"

She nodded. "Greyback handed her off to Rabastan Lestrange, who apparently handed her off to Avery. We found her in a hidden room. She's resting upstairs."

Riddle dragged a hand over his face.

"She must be kept safe. She can provide witness testimony when the time comes." He glanced to Sirius. "Can you protect her?"

"Protect her from what? Who knows she's here?"

"Greyback is still on the loose, along with the rest of the Dollmaker's minions."

Harry reared back. "How the hell do you know about-"

"I'll explain on the way to Dolohov's office. There's no time to waste. If someone else has custody of Hermione they could take possession of her at any time."

Draco paled, exchanging a loaded glance with Harry before nodding reluctantly.

"Go. Find the contract."

And don't let Riddle get his hands on it went unspoken between them.

Harry wet his lips. "You should still talk to your father, see what you can uncover just in case the office is a bust."

Draco nodded once more, holding his gaze a moment longer before glancing at Riddle.

The two men held each other's gaze without blinking, some silent battle taking place that caused a painful tightening in Harry's chest, waiting for the worst, until at long last Draco took a step back, shoulders tense as he turned on his heel and headed for the exit without a parting word.

Harry met Riddle's eye next. "Let's go."

"Wait a minute," Sirius said, grabbing his shoulder. "I need to speak with you. Privately."

"Sirius-"

"I'm not going to try and stop you from going. I know by now I stand no chance of winning that argument." The hand clenched upon him, a pained look crossing his godfather's features for the space of a heartbeat, a deeply unsettling sight. "I just need a minute."

Harry swallowed, tilting his head towards the hall. Riddle stepped aside, allowing them to pass with an unreadable expression upon his face.

Harry entered the hallway beside his godfather, step harried.

"I have to go-"

"I know." Sirius took a deep breath, grabbing Harry's shoulder once more, holding him in place before him. "I know you'll do anything for the people you love. Just like your parents. But you're even more stubborn and determined than they ever were."

Harry's brows creased. His godfather shook his head. "That's not what-" He sighed once more, stepping back and running a hand over his mouth.

"What I mean to say is… please, please be careful, Harry. I have no idea what the fuck is going on or who this Dollmaker person is. But there's a tied, gagged Peer in my study and a former kidnapped victim in my guest room. I don't know what will come through these doors next and I really don't care, as long as you're included."

He pinned him beneath the soul-crushing weight of his fatherly gaze.

"You hear me? You come home, Harry. No matter what it takes."

Harry swallowed heavily, nodding slowly. "I'll come home."

Sirius's jaw tensed as he pulled his godson forward, embracing him tightly.

"And bring our girl back with you."

Harry sighed into his shoulder. "I will."

They parted without another word, striding for the entryway where the others lingered silently, pointedly ignoring their gazes.

Except for Riddle.

Who met Sirius's eyes first, nodding once, before looking to Harry.

"Do you know where his office is?"

Harry nodded, leading the way to the door.

"Yes. It's not far." He glanced over his shoulder. "You know how to break and enter?"

"Quite well."

He bit back a smirk. "Good. Let's go."

After the door closed behind them the room's five remaining occupants glanced at each other.

"So…" Blaise said at long last, rocking back on his heels. "That was the Doctor."

Parvati arched a dark brow. "In the flesh."

He smiled brightly.

"I like him."

She rolled her eyes, the corners of her lips tipping up as she headed for the study. He waited a full beat before trailing at her heels.

---

As Draco sat in the darkness of the carriage on his way to Malfoy Manor he reflected on the insanity his life had become.

And at the swirling center of the chaos sat one person.

Hermione Granger.

He drew in a long breath, closing his eyes and tipping his head back against the seat, trying to recall when the madness began, when the obsession seized him with both hands.

His jaw tensed as he realized the beginning of the end was, in fact, the very first time they met.

He was at the Potter Estate, celebrating Harry's twelfth birthday. All the children were running amuck outside on the lawn, boys and girls alike, too young to be constrained by traditional gender roles just yet.

Draco had been chasing Harry with a fencing sword when a body collided with his own from seemingly out of nowhere. He'd only caught a flash of navy skirts and pale skin before he was toppled on his backside, choking on voluminous curls while delicate hands pressed upon his chest, a soft voice apologizing profusely.

He'd bitten back with a scathing retort, no doubt something he'd memorized from his father, unable to make out the annoying girl's face with the sun directly overhead, casting her visage into darkness. By the time they both scrambled to their feet and he was able to see her in stunning clarity they were both scowling, his suit covered in grass stains and her hair full of leaves.

He'd told her to tie the rat's nest back, then maybe she could see what was in front of her feet. She'd called him a pompous arse, causing him to flush deeply as he'd no idea what pompous meant, but it was clearly an insult and no one insulted a Malfoy, least of all some skinny, nine-year-old brat.

By the time Harry found them they were both red in the face from screaming, Harry's mother intervening just to get them separated.

At that moment he'd sworn to whatever deity was listening he hated the girl with every fiber of his being and would spend the rest of his life making her life a living hell.

That was the excuse he continued to use for years as he tried to justify his need to constantly seek her out.

Harry's parents had died three months later to the day following that first, fateful encounter and Draco began seeing far less of the orphaned boy as he was whisked away to Grimmauld. Lucius didn't want Sirius Black's rakish reputation rubbing off on his only son, after all.

While Draco and Harry grew apart, Harry and Hermione grew much closer, developing a brother and sister like bond that left Draco deeply jealous for reasons he was too young to fully comprehend, fostering a sense of animosity and competition between him and the pair.

But he especially loved to challenge her, anyway he could. Anything to earn her ire, her undivided attention.

Anything to lure her away from Harry's side and closer to his, even just to yell in his face.

Then he hit puberty, and everything had turned on its head.

The sound of her lecturing drawl started to have… unsettling effects on him. He'd squirm in his seat, heart palpitating, hands clenching, the typical urge to throttle her so overwhelming he found himself walking away from fights, throwing in the towel simply to escape the unavoidable cloud of her presence. Her scent.

And then she hit puberty, and he realized he didn't want to throttle her at all. His hands ached for something else, his entire body yearning in such a way that left him aching and dazed long after she exited the room in a puff of smoke and righteous fury.

By the time he realized what he really wanted to do to her it was too late to escape, to walk away. The longer he avoided her the more he wanted her, the more she plagued his thoughts. Every time his eyes scanned a room for her chestnut curls he told himself it was the last time. Every time he stared blatantly at her mouth while she delivered an impassioned speech about whatever social issue struck her current fancy he told himself it was just hormones.

Hermione Granger was just a phase.

But he couldn't rid himself of his desire, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how many beautiful girls flocked to his side at parties, clinging to his arm and placing their hands to his thigh beneath dining room tables.

He always found some excuse to leave them at the edge of the dance floor as he sought out the source of his festering obsession, the face that haunted his dreams every night, leaving him gasping in a pool of sweat and uncomfortable stiffness.

He never asked her to dance. Never offered his arm to escort her to or from a room. All he did was provoke her. So he told himself it was okay. It wasn't a problem. His father couldn't possibly disapprove.

And then one rainy afternoon they found themselves sequestered in the glittering gem of the Palm House, both separated from their respective group of friends as they scattered to seek shelter from the sudden downpour.

They'd been surrounded by manufactured heat and tropical flowers, she'd been spitting mad at him for telling her she looked like a drowned rat. Another cutting remark had been sitting on the tip of his tongue, ready to go, but a sudden madness had seized him and he'd grabbed her instead, earning a shocked gasp from her parted lips before he descended upon her, half pulling and half dragging her into the corner as he claimed her mouth for the first of many times.

The moment she first collided against him at Harry's birthday party had been his awakening.

But that first kiss…

That first kiss was his death.

A boy had perished away with the soft moans emanating from her throat, a man reborn in his place. A man who knew exactly what he wanted.

And would do anything to get it.

But that moment was also when their fate started to unravel faster than either could weave it together. They continued meeting in secret, fighting in public, instilling the false reality that their liaisons were a sin, a mistake, a dirty secret best left to shadow-strewn corners and empty hallways.

He ignored the deep seeded emotions taking root within him, evolving with every passing year, month, second. He thought one more kiss, one more caress would exercise her from his system. Free him from her thrall.

He never intended to marry her.

He never intended to marry anyone.

Marriage enslaved men and women alike, why would he subject himself or the woman he desired above all else to such a dark fate?

But he'd taken their arrangement for granted.

Taken her for granted.

Which led to The Fight.

The epic blow up, when hateful words were exchanged with such venom there couldn't possibly be any going back.

He'd watched her storm away with fire in her eyes, the same inferno raging in his chest. Within minutes he started to chase after her, only to berate himself, forcing his feet in the opposite direction.

To a gaming hall on the East End. Where he'd drowned his troubles away with ale and cards and women until he couldn't stand upright.

And while he was wallowing in the black bile of his vices, Hermione had watched her childhood home burn to the ground, taking her only family with it.

He'd been passed out for the entirety of the next day, not receiving word of what happened until she had already been hospitalized for a night. The administration wouldn't allow him in to see her, and he'd been too afraid to ask his father to pull any strings, years of keeping their relationship a secret making it impossible to form the words when he needed them most.

And by the time she was allowed regular visitors Potter had already returned to London, taking up permanent residence beside her bed, refusing to leave the room except to piss.

Her eyes had been so hollow, so haunted as she sat upon the hospital bed, Draco had simply stood at the foot of the mattress and stared at her in silence, half-formed apologies dying on his tongue, everything sounding grossly inadequate in his mind, undeserving of her forgiveness.

If only he'd gone after her that night.

If only he hadn't been such a coward, so terrified of the depths of his feelings for his childhood nemesis.

How pathetic that it took nearly losing her altogether to realize that he loved her with all of his soul.

But how to tell her?

The time never seemed right. His courage always failed at the last second, or she would glance away and the moment would pass.

Excuses, all of it. He knew that objectively. But it didn't change the fact the words became lodged in his throat everytime he tried to expel them.

Proposing to her had seemed the logical alternative. Surely she would understand the magnitude of his longing then.

Her rejection had stung more than her fist colliding with his face all those years ago. The damage far more long-lasting.

If only he'd told her...

And now he sat at the brink of losing her yet again, another raging inferno chasing at her heels.

Another man.

His stomach clenched painfully, teeth grinding.

Not just another man. A dangerous stranger who had everything but her welfare in mind.

The bastard may be trying to help set her free, but as far as Draco was concerned, it was Riddle's fault she was in the Asylum to begin with. It was his job to see to his charge's safety. He should have fought the spiteful Matron tooth and claw.

One thing was certain, Draco wouldn't let the man gain custody of her.

Not that he felt he was any more entitled to such a claim.

For Draco knew without a shadow of a doubt he didn't deserve Hermione Granger.

Just as he knew without a shadow of a doubt he loved her.

And in the back of the carriage, he made a silent vow to God that if he would please just deliver her back to him safely he would tell her the words festering within his heart for so long.

And never let her out of his sight again.

Unless it's too late…

Unless she doesn't want you anymore.

The driver shouted down to him, the horses slowing their pace as the carriage rolled to a stop.

He forcefully suppressed his churning thoughts, leaping to the pavement and paying the man before quickly ascending the stairs of his ancestral home, bracing himself for the battle ahead.

Tricking his father was all but impossible, which meant he'd have to tell the truth… selectively.

He took a deep breath, reaching for the handle, only for the door to swing open with his arm still extended.

His butler stood on the other side, eyes sweeping over his form, widening considerably.

"Master Draco, are you alright?"

He blinked.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?"

"You're bleeding."

Draco blinked again.

Shite.

He nodded quickly, stepping inside.

"I'm fine. Where is my father?"

"He isn't home, Sir, but your mother is-"

"I'm going to go clean up, don't tell my mother the state you saw me in, understand?"

The butler pursed his lips. Draco shook his head, running his hand through his hair. Lady Malfoy had the entire staff wrapped around her diamond-strewn finger.

"At least don't tell my father."

Parker nodded. "Of course, Sir."

"Any idea where he is?"

"A last-minute session, I believe."

He stood taller. "For the Medical Act?"

"I don't know, Sir."

He set his jaw, hands clenching as he turned for the stairs.

"A letter arrived for you, Sir, would you like for me to leave it in your room?"

Draco turned back around.

"A letter?" His heart skipped a beat. "From who?"

Could it be?

"Your Uncle, Sir."

He deflated at once.

"Oh." He held out his hand. "I'll take it now."

Parker handed the sealed envelope over before bowing deeply and exiting the room with graceful swiftness.

Draco blinked when he saw it was Rodolphus's wax stamp. He'd assumed it was a missive from Rabastan regarding the session.

He broke the seal, unfolding the parchment.

Only to stagger back as he read the five simple words scrawled in precise cursive.

He crumpled the note in his fist as he sprinted out the door once again, not bothering to close it in his wake.

The message rattling through his mind on an endless loop.

Your wedding present is ready.

---

Harry glanced either way down the darkened hallway, keeping watch as Riddle continued to pick the lock at Dolohov's door.

After a few more minutes there was a loud click, followed by the turning of the knob.

"Got it."

Harry quickly followed him inside the equally dark office, feeling his way to the gaslight on the wall and turning the dial, bathing the room in a soft glow.

"Where did you learn to pick locks?"

Riddle tucked whatever tool he'd used back into his coat. "I have many skills."

Harry's eyes narrowed.

"I'm starting to see that."

The other man was already pulling open drawers and grabbing files, carefully thumbing through the pages. Harry walked to the nearest cabinet, reaching for the handle.

"Put everything back where you find it," the Doctor instructed. "If the police search the office we don't want to leave any trace behind."

Harry raised a brow.

"Unless he isn't dead."

Riddle's jaw tensed but he remained silent, putting the file back and reaching for another. Harry sighed and opened the door, beginning his own search, the room filled with only the sound of pages being turned and drawers being pulled for several minutes.

"How did you know about the fire?" Riddle asked at last, not bothering to glance up from whatever he was reading.

Harry straightened, heartbeat slowing even as the blood rushed through his ears. He glanced at the man sharply, studying the rigid lines of his back and shoulders.

He took a deep breath.

"Avery tipped us off that Dolohov might know where Mione is. Draco and I swung by his Estate." His gaze narrowed. "It was already engulfed."

"What led you to Avery in the first place?"

Harry shook his head.

"Why don't you answer a few of my questions for a change?"

Riddle stiffened but made no further remark. Harry pushed on.

"Parvati said you were helping Mione look for Luna. But she didn't mention anything about you knowing the Dollmaker."

"I assume Avery told you about him?"

"Not much. Who is he?"

Riddle shoved a file back into place with extra force, knocking over a framed certificate. "That's the question I've spent the majority of my life trying to figure out."

"Why?"

A tense beat. Riddle's hands flexed at his sides.

"He took someone from me."

Harry tipped his head, eyes scanning the man's stoic profile. "And now you want revenge?"

"Now I want to stop him."

"What about the rest of his organization?"

Riddle turned around, brow raised. "What about them?"

"Powerful people are involved in this."

"I'm well aware."

Harry raised his own brow, setting the pages in his hand aside. "How do you intend to take them all down?"

Riddle stared at him in silence, finally shaking his head and turning back around.

"Let's start with retrieving Hermione."

Harry's heart skipped a beat. "The last time we met you still called her Miss Granger."

"A lot has happened since then."

His fists tightened at his sides. "Anything I should know about?"

Riddle's jaw worked silently for a moment as he rummaged rapidly through a stack of papers. "I imagine she would have told you what she intended for you to know."

Harry's chest tightened. He spun back around, slamming the cabinet door shut.

"How was she taken?"

Riddle blinked. "What?"

"If she was with you earlier in the evening, how was she dragged off to the Asylum?"

A brief pause.

"She returned to the Home."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

Harry spun to face him once more, emeralds flashing in his hardened gaze. "After she was almost kidnapped from the same place? I don't buy it. Mione is too clever for that."

Riddle braced his hands against the counter, taking a deep, steadying breath. "It was a trying evening, she wasn't in her right mind."

"And yet you let her wander off alone."

The Doctor slammed the drawer with such force it shook the wall, knocking the portrait hanging above askew.

"Why does it matter? What's done is done. All that matters now is retrieving her."

"She's my best friend. It matters." Harry's spine lengthened, ribs cracking and reforming as his chest expanded. "And I'll find out the truth eventually. One way or another."

Riddle didn't reply, merely crossed the room on stiffened legs as he began rummaging through another cabinet.

Harry took a slow step towards him. "You didn't look surprised when we told you Dolohov might be dead."

Riddle avoided his gaze, voice flat. "I didn't know him beyond a vague acquaintance. The news didn't affect me."

Harry nodded, eyes fixed upon him, taking in every nuance of his expression.

"Or perhaps you already knew because you killed him."

Riddle stiffened for half a beat, fingers clenching upon the file in his hands.

"And why would you think that?"

Harry wet his lips.

"Because I never said anything about a fire." Another step closer. "Neither did Draco."

Riddle took a deep breath but said nothing. Harry continued to approach, slow and wary, muscles tensed.

"Who are you really?"

Riddle shook his head, setting the file aside. "I'm the man trying to stop this madness before any more girls are taken or killed."

He met Harry's eye over his shoulder, halting his slow advance. "Starting with your best friend."

His grey eyes narrowed. "Are you going to continue asking questions or are you going to help me look for her contract?"

Harry's shoulders dropped. He swallowed lightly, Hermione's face flashing before his mind's eye. He reluctantly turned on his heel without another word, walking back to the cabinet.

They continued to search in silence, the papers never ending, until at long last Harry found a cabinet full of surnames starting with G. His heart sped as he flipped through the stacks in haste.

And then he saw her name.

He rocked back on his heels, nearly losing his grip on the file.

"I think this is it."

Riddle glanced up, watching as Harry continued to thumb through pages before nodding quickly. "This is it."

The Doctor moved quickly to his side, grabbing the oil lamp off the table and holding it aloft, illuminating the pages.

"I only see Dolohov's name." Harry wet his lips. "That's good, right? If there's no other name then-"

"Let me see it."

Harry's gaze narrowed as the man snatched the file out of his hands without preamble.

The Doctor began to rapidly scan the pages with his eyes, so quickly Harry thought there was no possible way he was actually taking any of the information in. But then-

"It says if anything prevents Dolohov from fulfilling his legal responsibilities the contract passes to his beneficiary."

Harry blinked, drawing back.

"How do we find out who that is?"

Riddle's jaw tensed as he closed the file.

"We find his will."

Harry sighed, starting to turn away. "Let's keep looking."

"He wouldn't keep such a document in a regular file cabinet." Riddle carefully tucked Hermione's contract back into the folder. "He'd put it somewhere special, protected…" His glanced up. "Like a safe."

Harry swallowed. "Fuck."

"Indeed."

Riddle closed the drawer. "Start looking on the walls, behind picture frames and bookcases."

Harry nodded as they spread out again. He was lifting the third picture frame when Riddle spoke from the wall behind the desk.

"Here it is."

Harry practically sprinted across the room as Riddle moved the seascape portrait aside, revealing a wide and narrow metal rectangle set into the wallpaper.

"Any chance your repertoire of skills includes breaking a safe?"

"I'm afraid not."

He dragged his hand through his hair, making some of the dark locks stand on end.

"We're screwed. Unless we bash it open."

"That's two inches of steel. We aren't bashing anything."

Harry tensed. "Then what-"

"It's a dial lock." Harry blinked as Riddle tilted his head, studying the gleaming safe cover. "A number combination. Most likely between three and six digits." He ran a hand over his mouth, deep in thought. Harry continued to watch with intrigue. "Given the manufacturing seal and overall quality I'd lean towards maximum security, six digits. Which means it'll be one turn each, starting with the standard clockwise."

Harry blinked once more.

"What kind of Doctor are you again?"

Riddle started to examine the dial. "A general practitioner."

"Right." He rolled his eyes. "Well unless you can also guess the numbers he uses, we're still up shite creek."

Riddle wet his lips, stepping away from the wall and meeting Harry's gaze.

"I don't have that information." A shadow moved across his face. "But you do."

Harry's heart stuttered.

"I do?"

"What day was Hermione born?"

He took a step back.

"What?"

"You heard me."

He shook his head. "I… like, day of the week?"

"No. What day in September?"

Harry fell motionless as realization set in.

And fire exploded in his chest.

"No…" His fists clenched. "No."

Riddle drew in a slow breath, moving further back. "Try it."

Harry remained frozen to the spot, unable to see or think past his blinding rage. He shook with the force of his pent emotions, desperate to destroy anything he could get his hands-

"Harry." He jolted, eyes darting up. Riddle held his gaze steady, voice calm. "Enter her birthday, with the year."

Harry swallowed thickly, moving forward slowly, lifting his trembling arm and grabbing the metal dial.

And started spinning it clockwise, each number, each turn a painful lance through his heart.

1… 9… 0… 9… 5… 7

The door clicked loudly, swinging free.

Harry staggered back, wiping his hand on his pant leg, desperate to rid himself of the dark taint on his skin. He met Riddle's eye once more, shoulders tight.

"Is he dead?"

The Doctor raised his chin, eyes gleaming bright.

"Yes."

Harry set his jaw, nodding.

"Good."

And then he moved back to the wall, pushing the door aside and rummaging through the safe contents.

"He's got a gun in here."

"Leave it," Riddle said from his side, raising the lamp as he peered into the opening as well.

Harry pushed the firearm aside, his hand grazing another heavy item.

"And a knife."

Riddle stiffened, eyes narrowing.

"That isn't a knife."

Harry raised a brow, pushing the object away without any additional thought. "No?"

"It's a letter opener."

Riddle reached inside and extracted the gleaming item, staring upon it for several beats. Harry was focused on extracting a large manilla envelope from beneath the pile and failed to notice when the Doctor pocketed the narrow blade.

He opened the flap of the folder, sliding the first page free.

"Shite. You were right." He inhaled sharply. "It's his will."

Riddle held out his hand silently. Harry relinquished the paperwork without hesitation, trusting the man to find the information they needed faster than he could.

He watched as he slid the rest of the stack free and began speed reading once more, eyes flickering back and forth so quickly it made Harry dizzy.

And then the Doctor went rigid as a board, hands tightening on the documents.

"What is it?" Harry stepped forward, his own hands clenching against the invisible weight of something terrible. "Who's his beneficiary?"

Riddle met his gaze over the top of the pages, darkness swelling all around them.

"We have a problem."

---

When Draco arrived at the Lestrange Estate the moon was starting to dim, the sky turning from black to indigo as the night waned thin.

Though the letter made no reference of where Draco should go, or when, he knew without a shadow of a doubt whatever Rodolphus had procured for him would not be taken to his club.

And if he expected Draco to wait until the morning he wouldn't have bothered sending a courier to the Manor in the dead of night.

He darted up the steps and pounded on the gleaming black door, gargoyles overhanging the roof, slitted eyes boring upon him with fang and talon extended.

He drew in a deep breath, pulling his gaze away as the door opened, revealing a young, beautiful, and barely dressed maid.

She smiled.

"Master Malfoy." She dipped into a low curtsy that revealed more of her bare thigh. "Lord Lestrange has been expecting you." She rose to her full height, eyes gleaming. "Please come in."

Draco entered swiftly, gaze quickly scanning the lavishly decorated black and crimson interior for any sign of what lay hidden within these walls.

He knew it couldn't possibly be Her…

But if there was even the smallest chance Riddle was mistaken and she wasn't trapped at the Asylum…

He had to be certain.

Though he wasn't sure what he was hoping for. While he was desperate to get her into his custody he was terrified of what she may have been subjected to in the meantime. He didn't put much stock in hypnotism, but one thing was certain, the Dollmaker was manipulating these women's minds somehow.

His stomach clenched painfully.

"You may wait in the parlor, Master."

Draco blinked, pulled back to the present. He began following the maid across the entry hall, the exaggerated sway of her hips telling him all he needed to know about her true purpose in this household. He doubted she'd ever held a feather duster in her life.

A moment later she came to a stop, gesturing to the interior of a damask and velvet-adorned room while remaining in the doorway, causing her chest to brush his arm as he passed. She giggled softly as he lurched away with a scowl.

And then she turned around, heading for the main stairs. Draco began to pace the room restlessly, hands sweating, when he caught a glimpse of a young, shirtless man walking past the doorway, seemingly oblivious to Draco's presence in the room.

A moment later a topless woman and pantless man headed down the staircase, laughing and carrying half empty fruit and cheese trays.

Draco ran a hand over his face.

Fucking hell.

A bit much for a Wednesday...

He put his back to the doorway, in no mood to see what else was wandering these halls. After several more minutes of being trapped inside his own hellish mind, he heard heavy, determined footsteps down the hall. He spun around just in time to see his Uncle sweep into the room in loose trousers and a billowing silk robe, no shirt in sight.

"Drake!" He called at deafening volumes, cheeks flushed and breath smelling of liquor. "Should have known you'd come right away, a bit eager to unwrap your present, are we?"

Draco arched a pale brow.

"I hope I'm not…"

A stark naked young woman walked past the door, playing with a golden chain around her neck.

"...interrupting."

"Of course not, darling."

His blood ran cold as a new figure emerged in the hall just behind the girl, wearing a floor-length black lace nightgown, the neckline cut nearly to her navel.

His fists clenched.

He'd been hoping to avoid her entirely.

"Bella."

She entered the room with a red-lipped smile, only for her expression to freeze the moment she laid eyes upon him.

He blinked in confusion as she darted across the room with fire in her eyes, reaching for his face. He tried to duck away but a table blocked his escape, her hand gripping his chin and holding him still before her.

"What's happened to you, Draco? Who did this?"

He cursed himself for not cleaning away the blood better. He'd yet to look in a mirror since his impromptu scuffle.

"It's fine-"

"It is not fine! No one lays a hand on my sister's son!"

His chest tightened, unnerved by her reaction and concern, never comprehending her twisted adoration for him since his youth. He turned his face away, prompting her hand to drop.

"You should see the other guy."

"I should hope to see him dead."

Draco wet his lips.

"Wishful thinking."

She sighed wistfully, taking a half step back as her dark eyes carefully scanned his face.

"You aren't a child anymore, are you? No matter how dearly I wish you still were." She reached up once more, stroking his cheek. He paled, swallowing heavily.

"But nothing can stay precious and pure in this life, can it?"

Her voice sounded strange and hollow as her eyes took on a vacant quality, their gleam rapidly dimming. Her body fell unnaturally still, arm froze in mid-air, and suddenly it was as if a mannequin stood before him.

Rodolphus stepped forward quickly, grabbing her arm and pulling her back, large hand squeezing her pale flesh until she cringed. Draco blinked, brows creasing, a protest forming on his lips despite the fact he didn't normally give two shites what went on between the twisted couple.

But before he could think of what to say his Uncle was speaking low in her ear, just loud enough for him to hear.

"Come now, my luv, Drake isn't here for auntly affection." He squeezed her arm again, but instead of flinching she jolted lightly, life flooding into her eyes once more, limbs loosening. "He's here for his wedding present."

She smiled, leaning into her husband's touch as though nothing were amiss.

"Of course." She licked her lips, voice back to its normal seductive cadence.

"When Roddy told me you approached him about such a topic I admit I was quite shocked." Her eyes gleamed more cat-like by the second. "But then he told about me the… specifications you were seeking."

A knowing grin curled her lips, teeth sharp.

"And I knew exactly what you were after."

Draco's heart lurched painfully against his ribcage as he took a slow step back.

They know.

She started towards the doorway with unhurried grace, speaking over her shoulder.

"However, we weren't able to meet all of your wishes…"

He blinked, halting mid-retreat.

Maybe not...

"Which I believe is in your best interest anyway."

His muscles tensed, braced for whatever madness she was sure to unleash.

"You are young yet, my darling, and I assure you, what you think you want now is not what you will want in five years time."

She laughed to herself, voice deep and smokey yet grating to his spent nerves. "Or five days time, given that you are also male."

And then footsteps started down the hall.

His spine went straight as an arrow, body vibrating with dark anticipation.

Her smile deepened as she stood in the doorway, gesturing to someone just beyond his line of sight.

Rodolphus stepped beside him, clapping a heavy, weighted hand to his shoulder.

"Trust us, Drake, as long as you have an open mind, you'll absolutely love it."

It...

Draco swayed on his feet with the force of his heartbeat, vision tunneling in on the doorway, everything else falling away as at last a figure turned the corner and emerged into the room, stopping just beside his Aunt.

Bella squealed with delight, holding her arms out as though unveiling some grand prize.

"Surprise!"

Spots appeared before his vision as he staggered back in horror, grasping the back of the settee for balance, thoughts rapidly spinning but only one making it past his lips.

"Oh my God."

---

Hermione awoke with a jerk, gasping for breath and thrashing against her binds, forgetting where she was for a terrifying second.

She fell still, gazing around the sun-strewn room, the white padding blinding to her eyes.

Only to realize with crushing swiftness last night wasn't a nightmare.

Her terror increased ten-fold.

And then she heard the noise that woke her, the sound of groaning metal and heavy footsteps.

The orderlies were making their morning rounds.

Muffled shouts met her ear, desperate wails that caused her to shrink back against the headboard, curling in on herself.

And then a familiar face appeared on the other side of the window at her door.

She held her breath as Wilson unlocked the metal barrier, pushing the heavy weight aside before entering with a bright smile.

"Rise and shine, princess." His eyes carefully roamed her figure. "Shite. You get any sleep?"

She wet her dry lips, swallowing lightly.

"Some," she whispered, pulling her knees in.

He raised a brow, lips tugging higher.

"Ghosts keep you up all night?"

Her jaw tensed as she met his eye with brazen swiftness.

"One tried. He's still a little upset I murdered him."

Wilson blinked, rocking back on his heels.

And then he tipped his head to the tiled ceiling, bursting into boisterous laughter.

"Christ!" He wiped the corners of his eyes. "I knew I liked you."

She glanced away, fighting the urge to shrink back as he crossed the room and gestured for her to turn around.

She endured his touch in order to be free of the straitjacket.

Nothing felt as terrible as having her limbs confined.

As the stays loosened she breathed a deep sigh of relief, fishing her arms free of the constraining fabric as soon as possible, welcoming the cold air against her bare arms and shoulders.

"Here's your uniform."

He tossed a folded pile of grey garments on the bed beside her. She stared at them without expression, struggling to keep her voice even, unaffected.

"Are you going to watch me change?"

He chuckled.

"Afraid not, luv. Have to keep making my rounds. But I'll be back for you in a few."

She swallowed heavily as he strode for the exit, thoughts of escape running rampant through her mind now that she was afforded mobility, clothing and temporary privacy.

But her thoughts quickly scattered as he stopped in the doorway, peering at her over his shoulder.

"Don't dawdle for too long, you've got a busy docket ahead of you."

The sinister glee in his voice made her stomach knot as she pressed a hand to her left wrist, covering the frayed ribbon.

He flashed a wicked grin, teeth gleaming as he grabbed the door handle.

"Today is your first treatment."