Chapter 29


"It will not be a big event, at least not by your standards," Hermione told Daphne with a smile as she looked at their announcement in the Daily Prophet. "We have decided that only the two of us and our witnesses will be present in the binding ceremony, which will be held in a private room in the Ministry. It will be followed by a dinner reception in the Malfoy gardens, where the guests will be waiting for us."

"Who will be your witnesses?" Daphne asked, a quill poised over a parchment as she took down notes.

"Draco Malfoy and Minerva McGonagall," Hermione said. "We've already asked them, and they have agreed and are aware of the date."

"Your dress..."

"Just simple dress robes," Hermione said. "Nothing too grand, and not white. Maybe cream? I'm thinking that I can have some accents done on it so it will not be too plain."

"The ceremony is easy enough. The dinner reception, though, will take a bit of work because it's only a month away but it's nothing we can't handle," Daphne said confidently. "How many guests are we expecting?"

"Tom has made a list of people he wanted to invite," Hermione answered, handing a piece of parchment to Daphne. "Mostly key people from the Ministry. The rest are made up of the Inner Circle and their immediate family. He gave me leave to invite whoever I want, but Harry and the Weasleys are definitely off limits without him even telling me explicitly."

"Anyone from school, then?"

"The teaching staff, Neville, Luna, Scott and Ginny. And Seamus and Dean," she added. "I think it will be safe to invite just Ginny. She had always managed to tolerate him in Hogwarts. So it will be fifteen people from my side, and Tom's list has about forty names so I think it would be safe to estimate that we could peg the dinner to be for seventy people."

"Since it's a short list relative to other society weddings, I think we can concentrate on the food. How does a five-course meal sound?" Daphne asked, her eyes glinting.

"As long as it's delicious," Hermione said. "I think food is the only thing most people remember from the parties that they go to."

"I'll take care of the program," Daphne said. "Be prepared for a short speech, both of you. And of course you have to open the dance with the classic waltz. You have no best man or maid of honor, but someone has to do the toast too, so perhaps Draco would be all right doing it?"

Hermione nodded. It would only be fitting, since Draco was probably the only person who had known them since they first started their unusual relationship. "Draco will be more than fine," she said.

Daphne finished her notes. "If you're up to it, we could go into Diagon Alley tomorrow and I can set up a food and cake taste testing session with the top restaurateurs. It would also be a good time to look for a dress maker to make your dress for you."

Hermione groaned. "Nothing too dramatic. I would be perfectly happy to just go to the Ministry and say our vows, but Tom needs at least a reception to show for the public."

"He's not in politics yet but he still needs to work the public," Daphne agreed. "I hope it's not stressing you out?"

She rolled her eyes. "It's manageable," she said. "But since people have seen me talk to a midwife at St. Mungo's, there hasn't been a day that my name was not in the paper, and I just know we will be attracting stares when we go to Diagon Alley tomorrow."

"Theo and Draco will come with us," Daphne said. She paused. "Er, do you think it's safe for you? I am worried about the Legion of the Chosen suddenly appearing and attacking you. I'm sure they'll think of something along the lines of they have to kill the 'spawn' of evil." She made quotation marks in the air with her fingers.

Hermione pressed her lips together. It was kind of Daphne to only consider her safety, when it was the Legion that had killed her parents only a year ago. "I don't think they will do anything in Diagon Alley in broad daylight, not after their failed attack at Tenebrae before, but I will need to ask the Tom about it just to be safe."

She broached the topic with Tom that night as they lay in bed. He did not answer her right away, for he considered the matter carefully in his head. "I don't think you should worry," he finally said. "It is an unplanned trip as you and that Greengrass girl only considered going today, and you will have Draco and Nott Jr. with you. I will be at the Ministry tomorrow with the Aurors so I can be easily reached if something goes amiss at Diagon Alley."

"How is your Auror training coming along?" she asked.

"They are enjoying it," he said smugly. "Quite hypocritical, if you ask me. They're supposed to be catching dark wizards but I have never seen a group more fascinated with the Dark Arts."

"Do you still feel it? The pull of the Dark Arts?" she asked, laying a hand against his chest.

"I always do, because the nature of my magic leans towards the dark," he said. "But feeling it is different from giving in to it. I am the master of my magic, not the other way around. Magic, though powerful, exists for us to use it, not to be commanded by it. It all boils down to choice, which is why free will is important and it is considered unforgivable to remove free will from a person."

She smiled. "I love hearing you talk about magic."

"I suppose I should be thankful that I have gotten all of my soul's memories. Knowing what the other part of my soul has done has given me something of a roadmap, so I am still able to learn from his errors. And I don't have to keep asking you questions about what my other part has been up to before I existed," he added with a smile to match hers.

She turned around so she could spoon against him, letting him rest his hand on top of her abdomen, which only showed the slightest of bumps. "And things in the Ministry are going well?"

"Yes. The election for the new Minister of Magic is going to take place in October," he said.

"Are you going to run?"

He shook his head in the negative. "It's still too soon. I need to be seen serving in a public office first before majority will consider me as Minister. I am going to support Kingsley Shacklebolt in his bid for Minister."

"Do you think he has a good chance to win?"

"He will have the vote of the Aurors and the MLE. Lucius is going to deliver the business sector and the vote of the purebloods. And, should you support him publicly, you will sway the half-bloods and the muggleborns too. I should say it's a good chance, considering that no one else wants to run except an ambitious but largely unknown wizard from the International Magical Cooperation department, and Umbridge, whom you know the public blames for not putting an end too soon with this Legion of the Chosen business."

"I hope Kingsley wins," she said seriously. "Though he's more of a doer than a leader. Being Minister involves more than just getting things done. He needs to be able to maneuver around different people, know what would be good or not for the Ministry and the community."

"Which is why he asked me to come on as an advisor," Tom said. "And he gave me his word that he will give me the MLE if he wins the election."

"Really? Give you the MLE?"

"Yes," he said. "Since we started working together with the Aurors, Kingsley and I have come to see eye to eye on most things."

"You mean to tell me that Kingsley has accepted your harsher methods?" she asked, still not believing him.

"He knows that sometimes, one has to be unforgiving in order to yield the best results. Or to yield any results at all. Kingsley, though a good Auror, admits he can never be unkind without having his conscience take the repercussions. Having me in his team makes him feel better knowing that I would have been more cruel than him, and that I can deliver results without worrying about feeling guilty about my methods," he said with a chuckle.

"That is a twisted way of thinking," Hermione said, rolling her eyes.

"Ah, Hermione. That was a half-joke. What I meant was, sometimes, I provide the validation that Kingsley is unaware he is looking for," he said.

"So he asked you to be on his team? With the promise of the MLE?"

"Yes."

"I suppose, with you as Head of the MLE, you would be in a better position to catch Harry," she said with a sigh.

"Icing on the cake," he agreed. "You plan to plead for him, don't you?"

"Of course," she said. "He's still my friend, you know."

"I know," he said. "Though I wish he wasn't."


Amazingly, the next few weeks unfolded smoothly for Hermione's wedding. Tom divided his time between the Ministry, Ars Tenebrae, and ensuring that Hermione's pregnancy and wedding plans were coming along nicely.

The afternoon of their wedding day rolled around, and Hermione was in Tom's old room at Malfoy Manor. Daphne had helped her put her dress robes on and was currently rising up to the challenge of taming Hermione's curls.

"I think my hair is a lost cause, Daphne," Hermione said.

"Actually, it looks nice," the other girl said. "I remember when we were kids at school, your hair was really bushy then, but now the curls just give you a sort of wild, windswept look that makes you look fresh. I only need to get these clips in place so we don't have your hair falling into your face any time during the ceremony."

Finally, after several more minutes in front of the mirror, Daphne declared her work done. Hermione looked at her reflection and practiced her smile. It was a private ceremony, and she was not the least bit nervous.

"Tom said he would be waiting for me at the Ministry, as he had to swing by Hogwarts to collect Professor McGonagall out of courtesy," Hermione said.

Daphne nodded. "Draco will escort you to the Ministry by Floo. I will stay here and make sure everything is ready for the dinner reception, so don't worry about it."

Hermione gave her a hug. "Thank you so much, Daphne. It's been a whirlwind of preparations for this day and I couldn't have done it without you."

Daphne patted her back. "You helped me plan my wedding as well, so it was my pleasure to return the favor."

Hermione walked to the foyer where she was met by Draco Malfoy, who was wearing equally formal dress robes with a smart cut. He offered her his arm. "You look lovely, Granger. Shall we get going?"

"Thank you," she said, taking his arm.

The Flooed to the Ministry together, emerging from one of the many fireplaces at the entrance hall. The floor was busy but not too crowded, with many wizards and witches walking briskly about, doing their business. Draco led Hermione to the private room that they had secured for the ceremony, holding the door open for her.

Hermione entered to see that the rest of their wedding party was there. Their officiator was Kingsley Shacklebolt, who was Deputy Prime Minister. Tom was already there, standing patiently before Kingsley, conversing quietly with McGonagall. The three of them looked to the door as Hermione entered, and she felt her heart skip a beat when she saw the expression on Tom's face. It was too private, too personal, and far too special for he never looked at anyone the way he looked at her.

He came forward to take her hand and lead her to their place in front of Kingsley. "You look perfect," he said, quickly brushing his lips against the back of her hand. "I trust you had no trouble getting here?"

"None at all," she said, giving McGonagall and Kingsley a smile. "I am so glad you could be the one to do this for us, Kingsley."

"Well I doubted you would have liked it had I asked the Minister herself," Tom said.

"You know me too well," she said, falling silent when Kingsley signaled that they should begin.

"If the witnesses could stand on either side of our couple, please," he said. McGonagall and Draco moved accordingly, and Kingsley cleared his throat. "Today, we celebrate the union of two individuals freely binding themselves to each other in the ceremony of marriage." He continued the short introduction to the rite, his deep voice ringing with just the right amount of solemnity to make Hermione feel the depth of what they were actually doing.

When it came to their vows, Tom spoke first. "I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, promise to take you, Hermione Jean Granger, to be my partner for life. I promise to walk by your side forever, to care for, help, and encourage you in all that you do. I will share your laughter and your tears as your husband, lover, and best friend. Wear this ring as a token of my promise, a promise that will never be broken for as long as I shall live."

Hermione pressed her lips together. Given that Tom was still looking for ways to become immortal, it was as good as saying forever. She smiled as he slid the ring onto her finger, a simple platinum band with their initials engraved on the inside. She cleared her throat as her turn came.

"I, Hermione Jean Granger, take you, Tom Marvolo Riddle, to be my partner from now until the end of time. I take you as you are, loving who you are now and who you are yet to become. I promise to listen to you and learn from you, to support you and accept your support. I will celebrate your triumphs and mourn your losses as though they were my own. As I have given you my hand to hold, so I give you my life to keep. Wear this ring as a token of my vow, unbreakable until the day I die."

She slipped the ring onto Tom's finger, a platinum band to match her own, and they continued to clasp hands as Kingsley waved his hand over their joined ones. "I now seal your vows to each other in front of these witnesses, and I pronounce you husband and wife. Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Riddle."

Tom's mouth gave a small quirk at hearing their Muggle name, and he quickly leaned forward to seal their marriage with a soft but full kiss. He drew back after a few seconds. "That was a fairly simple and straightforward ceremony. No backing out now, Hermione."

Hermione smiled at him. "On the contrary, you're the one who got stuck with me," she teased back. "Shall we go to the manor now?"

Tom nodded and turned to Kingsley. "You are invited to the dinner reception," he said. "Five-star meal, some socializing, and an agonizing speech by Draco Malfoy for your enjoyment."

Hermione laughed, hanging onto her husband's arm. They led the way to the entrance hall, where Tom threw a handful of Floo powder before stepping into the fireplace. They arrived at the receiving room by the foyer, where Daphne was waiting for them. She rushed forward as soon as Hermione stepped out of the fireplace.

"My lord, Hermione, the guests are in the garden waiting for your entrance. I had some hors d'ourves served with champagne," she said. "Are you two ready to make your entrance?"

"Best find a seat for Mr. Shacklebolt and Headmistress McGonagall first, though," Tom told her.

"I will take care of that, my lord," Draco said, leading the two guests to the garden.

Daphne waited for a few minutes before she ushered them both forward. The two of them stepped through the double doors that led to the garden, and Hermione drew in a breath in delight. The Malfoy garden had always been beautiful, but it had been further decorated for the event. Dainty lights hung from the tree branches that cast a soft, comfortable glow over the whole area. There were several tables, all filled with guests that rose to their feet as the newly married couple made their presence known.

Amidst the applause, Tom led Hermione to their table, pulling out her chair for her and waiting for her to sit down before taking his own seat. He looked over at the guests and made a vague gesture of his hand, which apparently indicated to Daphne that food was to be served immediately. Hermione was relieved with that. She had been feeling hungry already and she was uncomfortable being at the center of attention. At least people wouldn't be looking at her while they ate.

"Relax, Hermione," Tom said quietly as they were served their own starters. "Daphne assured me that the program will be brief. It will not go beyond two hours."

"I'm just not comfortable with all the stares," she said.

"You're married to me now," he said matter-of-factly. "You might as well get used to it."

She nodded at this and straightened up her back. "I eventually will," she said. She looked over at the guests as they continued to eat. "You know most of the people I have invited, but I don't know some of those you invited from the Ministry."

"Just potential connections, department heads and deputy heads. I will introduce you later when we go around after the dinner."

They continued their idle conversation until dessert was served and done. It was then time for Draco's toast. He stood up and pressed his wand to his throat, casting a Sonorous charm on himself. The guests stopped their private conversations and looked at him expectantly. He cleared his throat and began to speak.

"Good evening, everyone. Tonight, we are all here to honor my lord and my lady. Being a friend to both the groom and bride, I feel honored to be standing with them today. I feel honored that they trusted me enough for this toast, believing that I will say the right things, with just the right amount of sentimentality. I pray that I will not disappoint."

He paused to look over at Tom and Hermione, giving them a small smile. "The past two years have been tumultuous at best for the wizarding society. Lord Voldemort and Hermione were not exempted from it. In fact, it was the troubles during those times themselves that had caused the two of them to meet. I was a witness, though I was unwilling at that time, to the start of their relationship. I was also an unwilling confidante to both parties as they each confessed their growing affection for one another."

Hermione's head whipped to face Tom so fast she felt her neck would snap. "You talked to him about me?" she whispered incredulously. She never knew that.

Tom's mouth was turned up slightly. "When I was tutoring him, before we sent him as a spy," he admitted in a whisper. "I was curious about you."

"Draco Malfoy can actually keep a secret," she muttered.

"Only because it was about me," Tom whispered in her ear.

Draco took a breath and caught the indignant glare from Hermione, and his smile grew wider. "Yes, I was caught in the middle between my lord, whom I respect very much, and my friend, whom I care for as much as I respect my lord. Of course I wanted each of them to be happy, but I also wanted their relationship to be real, so for the first time in my life I resisted my Slytherin tendencies and did not do any manipulation of my own." There was a light chuckle from the crowd at this point.

"Well, needless to say, neither of them needed any help. Their friendship grew into affection until they decided that they did not want to part ways, and they ended up getting married. I admire both of you for your tenacity to hold on to each other. You are a constant reminder that good things may come when we least expect it, and I wish both of you more good things in your future. I toast to your happiness." Draco raised his champagne flute, and the guests did the same, drinking to Tom and Hermione.

Hermione smiled at the applause that followed, and looked up as Tom stood from his seat. "I only need to answer Draco's toast," he said. He approached Draco and shook his hand before turning to the guests. He did not bother with a Sonorous charm, for somehow his voice managed to carry over the ten tables that were scattered over the garden.

"Thank you, Draco, for that toast, and for keeping it short and sweet. I am not a fan of long-winded speeches myself, and those who know me are aware that I prefer to be direct to the point. Let me speak for both me and my wife when I thank all of you for coming tonight. Though we preferred to keep our marriage binding ceremony private, we still pushed on with this dinner reception because we wanted to share this day with you and, for some people, to sate their curiosity. Yes, good witches and wizards, Lord Voldemort did get married today to Hermione Granger." He paused and smiled as a gentle wave of murmurs passed through the crowd, then he walked over to Hermione, holding out a hand to her. "Allow me and my wife to lead the first dance."

Hermione allowed herself to be pulled to her feet and led to the center of the reception area as a small string ensemble started to play a waltz. She placed her hands on Tom's shoulders as he slid his hands down to her waist, stepping through the dance sedately. Hermione hummed in contentment as she followed him. The reception would be winding down to a close soon, and she was looking forward to resting for the night.

Tom squeezed her waist lightly, ever aware of her sentiments. "Not much longer, Hermione," he murmured as other couples came to join them on the dance floor. After finishing the first two dances, Tom led Hermione away, introducing her to the different dignitaries from the Ministry as he promised.

Soon, it was time for some of the guests to leave, and the couple made their rounds on those that were getting ready to depart. Seamus and Dean shook Tom's hand and each of them kissed Hermione's.

"Thanks for inviting us, you didn't forget," Seamus said.

"Of course I wouldn't," Hermione said. "I hope you both enjoyed yourselves?"

"We did. Congratulations, Hermione, Lord Voldemort," Dean said.

"Thank you, Dean. See you in Auror training next week," Tom said.

Seamus and Dean bade their goodbyes, and Ginny came up to them. "Congratulations and best wishes," she said somewhat shyly. "Thanks for inviting me, Hermione, given the circumstances…"

"Today should be a happy day, so let's refrain from talking about the circumstances, as you referred to them, Miss Weasley," Tom said, giving Ginny a reassuring smile. "I am glad Hermione decided to extend an invitation to you, and that you chose to come."

"Very gracious of you, Professor Riddle," Ginny said, still a little flustered.

Tom gave her a curt nod before moving away to talk to someone from the Ministry, allowing Hermione and Ginny a little time to have a private conversation. Hermione flashed her husband a grateful look before turning back to Ginny. "I wasn't sure you would come," she admitted.

"Mum didn't want me to, at first," Ginny said. "But I told her that in spite of everything, we are still friends and you only get married once. She relented after a few days and even helped me pick out a present for you. I actually can't believe that you got married before I did! You look lovely, Hermione. Are you happy? The rumors are true and you are expecting?"

"Yes, I am happy, and yes, I am expecting," she answered with a small laugh. Gods, she didn't realize how much she had missed Ginny.

"Well, I'm happy for you," Ginny said, reaching out to squeeze Hermione's arm. "And I'm actually glad that you're all right with him."

"More than all right, Gin," Hermione reassured her.

"That's good to know." Ginny leaned over to give her an impulsive hug. "I need to get going, though. I have Quidditch practice early tomorrow morning. Take care, Hermione."

"You too, Ginny."

Hermione watched her friend go, and Tom rejoined her after a moment. She slipped her hand into his as they watched the last of the guests depart, leaving only the residents of the manor and Daphne and Theo. Hermione looked at Daphne, tired but happy. "You did an amazing job with everything, Daphne."

Daphne waved her hand. "I enjoyed it. Anyway, Hermione, my lord, your presents have been brought to Serpensgat, where you can open them at your leisure."

"Not tonight, I'm tired," Hermione said, looking at Tom for confirmation.

He nodded. "Then we shall rest," he said. He led her to the fireplace and they Flooed to their own home, where they spent their wedding night curled together simply basking in each other's proximity.


Hermione padded to the sitting room late next morning to be greeted by a large mountain of presents. She groaned, thinking about all the thank you notes she would be writing for each one. "That is a lot," she commented.

Tom stood beside her, holding a cup of coffee. "There are many who want to remain in my good book at the moment," he said. "Come, best start on it if we want to finish by lunch time. These have been scanned by my Inner Circle last night. No traces of dark magic in any of the packages."

However, as Hermione started to open package after package as Tom handed them to her, she felt him scanning each parcel for dark magic himself. She hid a smile at his meticulousness. He really never did things halfway.

Most of their presents were, as was the tradition for weddings, items for the house. There were several bottles of wine, the most interesting perhaps was an eighteenth century vintage that came from, of all people, Ginny Weasley.

"I thought the Weasleys were not that well off," Tom said, turning the bottle in his hands to inspect it. "A bottle like this would cost galleons."

Hermione took the wine from him to examine it. "She said her mother helped her pick it out. Probably thought you had a sophisticated taste with regards to wine when your favorite drink is actually hot chocolate with cinnamon," she said with a chuckle.

He was considering it carefully. "Have that bottle examined for poisons first before drinking it," he said. "Actually, you can't drink it, you're pregnant."

"The seal hasn't been broken, though, but I agree with the caution," Hermione said, looking closely at the cork. She took her wand and waved it over the bottle, uncorking it with a loud pop. Tom rose from his seat to stand behind her as she peered into the bottle. "In any case, if it is indeed poisoned, I've got a bezoar in your study for emergencies. I can't smell anything from it, though," she said, leaning closer to sniff at it.

Tom grabbed the bottle from her hand and put the cork back on. "I will examine this later. Shall we continue with the rest of the presents?"

They opened the rest of the presents, and an hour later Hermione called for them to stop. They had only ten more to go, but she was feeling feverish and short of breath. "I'm tired," she told him. "Perhaps we can continue this later?"

He nodded, coming forward to help her to her feet. His hand tightened on her arm when she swayed into him, surprisingly unsteady. "You are ill," he said tersely, placing a hand on her forehead. "You should have told me you were feeling feverish earlier and we could have rested in bed a little longer."

"I was perfectly fine earlier," Hermione said, leaning more heavily against him as he led her back to their bedroom. By the time he sat her down on the settee in their suite, she was already panting, her cheeks flushed.

He flicked his wand at her, delivering a short burst of cool air towards her face to relieve her a little. They were in their private suite, so he was not bothering to hide the anxiety on his usually placid face. "It may have something to do with that bottle you opened," he said.

"I didn't ingest any of it."

"But you inhaled it," he reminded her. "We should go to St. Mungo's immediately."

"Tom, we're not even sure if it was the bottle," she said, gasping out each word by now.

"Regardless, you need attention," he said, baring his forearm to touch the Dark Mark with the tip of his wand. "Draco," he muttered.

Less than a minute later, Draco came walking in briskly, Serpensgat's wards adjusting to allow him entrance. "My lord?" he asked, but his voice faltered when he saw Hermione.

"I believe she has been poisoned," Tom said in a low voice. He gathered Hermione in his arms, pulling her close to him. "There is a bottle of wine I suspect, the eighteenth century vintage we got from Ginevra Weasley. Get the bottle to Slughorn and tell him to strip it of its contents, I want to know what was in it. Tell him Hermione got affected merely by inhaling it."

"Will you be apparating to St. Mungo's, or will you go by Floo?" Draco asked, locating the suspected bottle and taking it.

"I shall apparate," Tom said. "Tell Nott Sr. to start searching for the Weasley girl, or any member of her family. They will answer for this."

"Yes, my lord," Draco said, casting a final worried glance at the now unconscious Hermione before turning to do Tom's bidding.

Tom apparated to the lobby of St. Mungo's, right in front of the reception. Boldly, he walked past all the other witches and wizards standing in the queue waiting to be served, only throwing them a warning look before any of them could speak.

"I need your best healer immediately," he said to the receptionist briskly. "My wife was poisoned."

The witch at the desk took one look at Tom and jumped to her feet. "Of course sir," she squeaked, throwing an apologetic look at the people that Tom had passed.

Tom followed her gaze and saw the small crowd that was starting to gather around them. "Get to it now," he snapped at her, and she swallowed nervously.

"Please follow me," she said, half walking, half running to one of the rooms that the hospital used for emergencies. She opened the door and pointed to a bed. "You may put her there while I get a healer."

"Liam Greenwell, if he is around," Tom said, recalling the name of the healer who had treated Lucius. He remembered that the man was thorough and experienced and knew how to act around the Death Eaters with discretion.

He set Hermione down on the bed and brushed her hair from her face. He pressed his lips together, his mind working to unravel everything that had happened so far. It had to be a poison, potent enough to have an effect through inhalation. He looked at Hermione's face, which had gone from flushed to pale as her breathing worsened, each breath sounding like a feeble whistle as her lungs worked to get her air. Tom's hands tightened into fists.

"It was poison meant for me," he muttered when he felt someone enter the room behind him. He registered the magical aura as Draco's.

"What was it, my lord?" Draco asked, coming closer to look at Hermione worriedly.

"It was poison meant for me," he repeated, deliberately opening his hands to relax himself. "Weasley would not expect Hermione to drink it, as she is pregnant. What did Slughorn say?"

"He's working on it as we speak," Draco answered. "However I did bring a minute sample back in case St. Mungo's wants to have a look at it as well."

The door opened again Healer Greenwell came striding in. He took one look at Hermione, and gave a brisk nod to Tom and Draco. "If you can tell me what happened?" he asked crisply.

"We were opening wedding presents, and we happened to come across this suspicious bottle of wine. We had suspected it to be harmful, but my wife tried to smell it for any telltale signs of poison. Apparently what was in it was potent enough to cause symptoms through inhalation," Tom said. "It happened about an hour ago, and her first symptoms were flushing and shortness of breath accompanied by fever. It seemed to me like an allergic reaction."

"I agree," the Healer said. "But it was severe enough to affect her breathing, and the lack of air pushed her to unconsciousness."

Greenwell took a mask from a drawer and fitted it over Hermione's nose and mouth. "This mask will help her breathe easier until the effects of the poison wear off. I will also be giving her potions to control her immune system, get the inflammation down as much as possible."

"She's with child," Tom said, for it was not yet obvious at the time.

The Healer looked grave. "I am aware, but I did not want to say anything until I perform more diagnostics on your lady and the baby. As you know, poisons eventually break down and do not stay permanently in the body, but their effects can sometimes be permanent."

"Do your best, Healer," Tom said in a low voice. "Because I cannot account for the things I might do if I should lose my wife."