A/n: Thanks to my beta JDeppIsMyLovely! Not yet edited.
"Voldemort loved my mother," he began, looking at the floor as he spoke. "Although my father followed the man religiously and said he would do anything to please him, giving up my mother was the one thing he wouldn't stand for. It infuriated Voldemort that Lucius wouldn't give up my mother, and that my mother didn't love him one bit."
Hermione nodded, listening to the blonde as he began speaking. Things obviously troubled him about this situation, and she hoped that he could explain things all of the way through. Sometimes he held back, and this time she was finished letting him do things on his own time. They were out of time. Gripping his hand, he continued speaking.
"As I said, Voldemort tortured him for being so stubborn. If he didn't have uses for my father he would be dead long ago. I don't know why he wasn't killed when we fell out of favor, but we all survived the war. It hurt my mother to watch my father suffer, but she couldn't will herself to love the man. He was too disgusting, controlling, and horrifying to think of in that fashion. She refused all of his approaches."
"Mother was really the only person Voldemort was soft on. He took the time at meetings to pay her special attention, occasionally dragging her away from my father and I to have her sit at his side, as though she wanted to be there. She was the only person who could ever refuse him and escape with her life."
"How awful."
"No, it was lucky. Otherwise, she would be dead. But mother was headstrong and never cracked under the pressure Voldemort put on her to be with him, something that made my father proud. He just never showed it, and instead let frustration and anger shine through everything else when he came up to beat us. He couldn't get over the fact that his Lord also desired his wife."
"Sometimes, Voldemort would pay her special attention in different ways. Instead of making her sit by him or soemthin he would get her something special to drink, something the rest of us couldn't have. It always put me on edge when he did that because I could never be sure what was in the drink. Once, he laced it."
"Now, since he was a true master of the Dark Arts, he knew what to throw in that would make her lose control over herself. He made sure that she drank every drop that night, and before long she was… lusting after him. Everyone knew what had happened and was disturbed by the notion- even Bella. It only lasted one night but was potently strong, and I try to not think about what happened when my mother disappeared for the night, only to re-appear in the morning looking horrified."
She squeezed his hand, encouraging him to go on despite how difficult it was to talk about. He still wouldn't look up at her.
"Mother wouldn't say what happened, but it was easy enough to guess. Horrified with what happened she slipped into a state of depression for weeks, with my father trying to keep her spirits up. The potion had worn off by then, but the aftereffects were awful. Splitting headaches, pains, loss of breath, they were all part of the aftereffects of it all, something that would make it hard for her to forget the experience. It was truly terrible."
"It really is," Hermione muttered, unable to think of what she would do if she was put in a similar situation. She would probably lose her mind.
"Eventually she got better, but it took a lot of time. Despite the fact that my father was angry, it was during the weeks that followed that potion that he stopped beating us for quite some time. I think he was too disgusted, realizing that Voldemort would do things like this, even to his followers. Once my mother returned to normal though, he returned to his cold self. I think he tried to forget about what happened, as did I."
Hermione nodded, thinking the information over in her head, piece by piece as Draco got lost in his thoughts for a moment. "No one ever gave her a remedy for the love potion he used?"
He blinked, looking up at her. "Why would we? It wore off."
"No," she said, shaking her head as she stood. "If it's that strong, tainted with dark magic, then I don't think that type of thing would just wear off. I think it would require an antidote."
"We never used an antidote," he whispered, feeling foolish. "Fuck. You think that she's still suffeting because of that?"
"I think that a love potion dipped in dark magic probably isn't something simple and commonplace," she corrected, beginning to pace. "You said she started acting like a doll after her return from Azkaban, right?"
"Right."
"When did he lace her drink? At what point in the war?"
He shrugged, mulling the information over in his mind. "Right after you and your friends escaped from the Manor. It was a few days later when it happened."
Hermione did some quick calculations in her head, eyes widening. "You say that she's never been treated for it?"
"No…"
"Draco, that potion has been in her system for over five years. There are some incredibly strong love potions in the world, as you very well know, and one laced with dark magic can only be that much worse. Do you realize what this means?"
"I'm beginning to," he grumbled, wanting to strangle himself. So a possibly, logical answer was sitting in front of them all along, and they just overlooked the obvious signs for how many years? During the war his mother was indeed a big factor and concern in his life, but when she got over the effects of the potion he let it slip out of his mind. He didn't think about the lasting effects, the dangers, or the fact that this dark potion might linger inside of her. It would be a conflict.
A conflict, which very well might be the reason why healing and removing her Dark Mark did ntohign to change her condition. Something else sinister was at work, something that he hadn't considered until now.
"What were the effects of the potion?" Hermione asked, her mind turning everything over again and again, looking for another slip of information. It was all coming together now.
"The usual," he said, sounding dazed. "She wanted Voldemort, which was incredibly creepy. She would do anything for him, and stated so outright. Everyone knew that something was wrong."
"Anything else? A skin reaction, hair changing color, anything like that?"
"She got really sick afterwards and couldn't eat for three days," he recalled, memories flooding back. "She got paler than usual, but it might be from losing the contents of her stomach over and over again for several days. Her hair didn't change color though."
"Did she act any differently towards your father?"
"Actually, he was a lot kinder during that time. Seeing his wife suffer opened up that spot in his heart that still had some humanity, and he comforted her. She was very clingy the first few days after it all."
"That's not too surprising," Hermione muttered, rubbing her temples. "Do you understand how many love potions there are in the world?"
"A couple handfuls?"
"More like six. But you gave me some information, so I can use that to start my research."
"Wait- research?" She was already up and headed towards the bedroom door, and he had to jump up to catch up with her before she opened it. "Hermione, slow down."
"Why?"
"Because I want to know what you're planning," he admitted, staring down at her. "What will doing all this research amount to in the end?"
"Draco," she said, placing her hands on either side of his face, "It's a potion, not a spell. Potions, no matter how intense and awful they are, can be reversed. Whatever kind of potion Voldemort used, it was either dark to begin with or the dark magic influence was added at the end to make the spell stronger and to probably hurt her. If he loved her and she refused him, he probably secretly found a way to make her hurt. And it's still in play today."
"And you're going to go and try to figure out what it is?"
"Precisely," she said, grabbing the doorknob while he wasn't looking. "Look, why don't you go see your parents? We're do to go visit you know, and maybe you can speak to your father. I'll give you a bit of the potion to remove the tattoo and you can slip it to him. I'm sure he'll be grateful. Meanwhile I need complete and utter silence to try and utter silence to try and figure out what we're dealing with."
"And when you do?" he asked hopefully, ignoring the fact that it coul take a while and might not even happen.
"Then we can worry about how to revrse it. If there's no known way to remove the spell, then we might have to get creative."
Before she could say anything more his arms were around her, enveloping the slim girl in a tight hug. She smiled into his chest, enjoying the single moment of calm, collected love. He was grateful fro what she was going to do, and she would take his appreciation in handfuls. But she couldn't accept his help at that moment. He really did need to see his parents, and she knew he wanted to check in on his mother.
Pulling away, she gave him a smile. "Go on then, go visit- though, I wouldn't mention that you told me all of that to your father. There's no telling what he'll say. Just go and visit for a bit, and I'll get started."
He nodded, though he remained hesitant. "I can help you know."
"Yes, I do know, and I'm sure you will once you've returned. Go and see them for a bit Draco; it won't be detrimental."
The blonde nodded, kissing her softly before turning away. She left the room without a backward glance, her mind still turning things over in her head. She needed to get to the library right now and start researching.
"She looks calm when she sleeps." Lucius mused, brushing his fingers over his wife's cheek. Draco stood to the side, watching his father tentively interact with his mother. Despite the fact that the elder man had a bed of his own in there now he chose to ignore it, taking up the only chair to sit by her side and hold her hand. Draco didn't really know what to think of the interaction.
"Yes, she does," he said at length, unsettled by it more than comforted. He'd rather that she was awake, speaking, talking, living. But that couldn't happen, not yet.
Lucius nodded his agreement, continuing to brush fingers over his wives face. From what Draco was told upon entering St. Mungo's that afternoon, Lucius had yet to eat anything all day. He liked to spend every second of his time as his wives side.
"I brought you some more of that potion," his son said lowly, fingering the vial in his pocket. "Hermione sent it."
"She's a sweet girl. Tell her I thank her. I'll use it in a moment."
Draco had nothing to say to that, too thrown that his father just told him to thank Hermione. The world might be upside down for all he knew. And as his girlfriend recommended, he said nothing about what he'd informed her about. Lucius still didn't know how much she knew.
When his father moved to apply the potion, Draco took over his seat, clutching the same hand Lucius did. Hope dared to pool in his chest, the desire that his intelligent girlfriend might actually be able to pull this off rising. He desperately wanted her to succeed.
"Don't worry mom, we'll get you out of this."
