Good evening! Yes, another chapter already. It's lovely to have time to write. Thank you ALL for the reviews! I've tried to PM all of you, but here's a quick rundown again:

KEZZ, you are always quick to review & so positive!

zeeksmom, sorry to be a distraction to your actual job of writing! But thank you for the reviews! Hopefully this chapter provides some help for you figuring out who is doing what.

Cyador, yes, Lucius is going to pay a high price for keeping Hermione in the dark.

Alesia, oh THANK YOU for getting what I've been trying to convey about Hermione and integrating herself into the Malfoy family. She is and has always been so strong and independent, and now she is faced with weakness (her pregnancy) and integrating her wishes with a larger family. I hoped this angst has been coming out and your review makes me think, yes, it is! So thank you! And I fixed that typo. You are a great copy editor!

casper22, I think you will like this chapter, and you will DEFINITELY dig the next one!

angstar, yes, Therese is quite the character! I like her, she is fun to write and I think she will be back at the end just because she is a hoot!

Ok, the next chapter is on the go, but damn, it is tough writing. Not because I don't know what to say, but because it is emotional and wrenching for me to write! It is a chapter that will probably make ME cry as the author, so, you are forewarned. So let's see what happens next, shall we, and if you lovely folks could continue to REVIEW, I would love it! Even those one liners just really give me a pick-me-up! Enjoy!


When Lucius and Bertrand pulled their heads out of the pensieve, Bertrand's jaw was tight but he was under good regulation again, his anger controlled.

"That was not me," Bertrand said as Lucius calmly retrieved the strand of memory with his wand and put it back to his temple.

"I figured as much after Thérèse's little 'intervention'," Lucius said. "If that was not you, what have you been doing?"

"I've been in China, buying tea," Bertrand said, pulling his own memory and tossing it into the pensieve. It was so mundane there was no way it could be a lie. Bertrand was many things, but a neglectful business owner was not one of them. He hoarded success the way other wizards hoarded Galleons, although of course Bertrand had plenty of those as well. They both went back into the pensieve, and Lucius watched his cousin negotiate ruthlessly for osmanthus flowers, haggling in fluent Chinese. Lucius pulled his head out of the pensieve and his cousin followed immediately, flicking the memory back into his head.

"Osmanthus is a valuable potions ingredient as well. You've been bidding up the prices with all your interest for your tea company," Lucius said.

"Well it's not as if some ingredients don't overlap," Bertrand sniffed. "You can't expect that I'm going to dither about when it comes to the right season for buying."

"Well I know it! I'm supposed to be there as well buying stock for Malfoy Enterprises—instead I am here, jumping and skulking about to catch those responsible for attempting to kidnap or maim my wife," Lucius replied irritably. "Now, would Bedell have access to your apartment in Paris?"

Bertrand's eyes gleamed dangerously again. "I would hardly think him capable of breaking my wards, but your evidence seems to point to the contrary. I have hardly flaunted my mistress among mixed company. And it is well known that I always go to China at this time of year for business. It's obviously one of the few things—"

"—that you don't trust others to do for you. Yes, I perfectly comprehend that. Obviously, he's been impersonating you. The question is, for how long? Have you been making inquiries into my work for some time?" Lucius' mind was already jumping through conclusions, and Bertrand was quick to follow.

"Well you could hardly expect us to let your branch of the family implode after so much work went into resurrecting it after the war," Bertrand sniffed disapprovingly. "Of course I was poking around! Nevertheless, my inquiries have been slow and have, I admit, not received my full attention. I can't say I found it particularly inspiring to fight to keep a Mudblood in the family. However, I could see that your choke collar was being skillfully employed—tell me, why do you put up with it?" Bertrand was haughtily curious, and Lucius shook his head, ignoring the insult to Hermione easily.

"I think you know full well why I allowed it, but suffice it to say, if I can clear up this nastiness, I have an oath that it will be gone for good. I assure you, I am prepared to take all necessary measures to ensure that it becomes so." His tone was steely, and Bertrand nodded.

"Let us compare notes. My Ministry contacts are sparse but at least they have been steady correspondents. I am sure that if Bedell is responsible, we will find the evidence of it. And when we do, I reserve the right to find out why he has done this," Bertrand said, his tone of voice leaving no doubt that he would not hesitate to turn his own wand against his brother if necessary.


"Mucky weather," Severt observed as they left the hospital. The wind was enough to be noticeable, and snow was falling in wet flakes.

"Now, Ron, are you looking for something that is about keeping a memory, something cuddly for the baby, something to pamper Lavender…?" Hermione prompted as they walked toward the intersection of Diagon Alley with Whimsic Alley.

"I don't know, Hermione. I just want her to have some of the extras, you know? Something that will make her happy when she sees it," Ron said.

"That's not terribly helpful, but let's see what we can find," Hermione said, scanning the storefronts. Truthfully she had not been here very often, Astoria having dragged her a few times to purchase something for Scorpius.

"Uh, what about that shop Hermione?" Ron asked, pointing to a boutique with frilly baby clothes and what seemed to be vintage prams in the shop window.

"If you want frippery, that seems a good…" Hermione stopped in her tracks, grabbing Ron by the arm. "Ron, am I imagining things?" She gestured with her head toward a familiar platinum blond, walking along quickly with another wizard.

"Is that Lucius?" Ron asked as Hermione gawked at her husband, his hair dancing around his shoulders as he made his way through the crowds easily.

"Come on Ron! Lucius!" Hermione called, but he didn't hear her. Hermione began to pull him along with her, nearly breaking into a jog to keep up. She got glimpses of Lucius' face, and the other wizard—definitely his cousin, Bertrand.

"Hey!" Severt called from behind them, and Hermione could hear him running to catch up, trying to move through the crowds as Hermione darted along with surprisingly alacrity for a seven months' pregnant witch, dragging Ron who was protesting, "Hermione, wait! I'm sure he'll explain—"

The rest of what Ron was going to say was made instantly irrelevant as they turned a corner into an alley and were confronted with the drawn wand of Thorfinn Rowle. Everything seemed to slow down: Hermione registering a shock of green hair to her right, Ron parrying a curse, Severt's voice from behind them—"It's a trap!"

It was so frantic, Hermione felt disconnected from her body. She couldn't tell how many assailants were present in the dimness of the alley, merely worked to block hex after hex and return fire as best she could. Absurdly the baby began kicking her, a fact that she ignored in her mind as her wand moved almost automatically, her brain clicking into the too-familiar act of defending herself.

"Up there!" She heard Severt arrive, his wand flashing as he engaged a shadowy figure on the rooftop, taking him or her down nimbly and turning his wand toward the others behind. It seemed evenly matched, Hermione's Auror escorts giving as good as they were getting, at least holding their ground.

Someone screamed behind her, and the grin on Rowle's face told her he had cut someone down, presumably one of the Aurors. Hermione's face flushed with panic when she saw Ron flinch as a slicing hex cut deep in his shoulder when he looked back to see if it was his partner, but he turned back quickly and kept dueling with a fierce determination. Hermione was dueling Miss Green Hair, and the witch was putting quite a bit of power into her curses, causing Hermione to put all of her effort into countering them and not putting forth any complex curses of her own.

"Not so clever now, are you Hermione?" The green haired witch seemed coolly confident, driving Hermione a bit away from Ron with her hexes. It was a taunt, designed to weaken her nerve. Hermione barely blocked one when she heard the welcome relief of Harry's voice.

"You seem to like being captured in public places, Thorfinn," Harry said coolly, dueling in alongside the flagging Ron.

"Not today, Potter," he sneered, throwing an Incendio at Harry, which Harry blocked with a freezing charm.

"A little help here," Hermione panted, and Ron turned his wand toward the green witch, since Harry seemed to have Rowle in hand, and the remaining Auror(s) were effectively batting back the assailants further down the alley. The large ex-Death Eater was scowling now, Harry being faster with his wand. He was watching the wizard to see if he still dropped his wand slightly after attempting an Avada...this would be Harry's opportunity.

"Avada kedavra!"

Harry dodged the green curse as it zinged past, throwing his own underhanded curse at Rowle in a move reminiscent of Sirius Black. The magical ropes ensnared Rowle and he dropped with a yell of anger, causing the green haired witch to shriek in dismay.

"No!" Her eyes narrowed and she focused on Hermione, who cast a strong Protego as the witch whipped her wand in a sharp flick to the side. It was just a split second, but Hermione saw it, the slight change to her wand angle, taking the brunt of Ron's jelly fingers jinx, her own spell already darting at the wizard. He had no time to block it, and the witch was there just long enough to see it hit before she disapparated with a loud crack, leaving her wand on the ground where it had fallen. Hermione turned to Ron, whose face was ashen as he crumpled to the ground.

"Ron!"


Lucius was beyond exhausted when he finally portkeyed home to the Manor. Twigs instantly popped into view, waiting for instructions. The elves were finely tuned to the wards of the property, a convenience which Lucius often took for granted.

"Who is at home?" he demanded of the house elf, shrugging off his cloak and the snow. Twigs cleaned off his shoes as he walked toward his study, the house elf delegating the wet cloak to Firkin.

"Mistress Astoria and young master Scorpius are at home," Twigs replied. "Do you require a late luncheon?"

Lucius was quickly flicking through the post that had accumulated while he was gone, sorting it into items that would need to be dealt with urgently and everything else. "Where is my wife?"

The house elf bowed deeply, a sign that he was about to impart news that Lucius would not like. "Mistress went to St. Mungo's, Master."

Lucius dropped the week-old Daily Prophet with its eye-catching headline slandering Hermione, slowly turning the full force of his gaze on the house elf. "Why?"

His tone was pointedly clipped, and Lucius knew something was very wrong when the venerable Twigs began to tremble at his age. "Is not for Twigs to say, Master! I apologize, drop stone urn from roof on myself, I will!"

"My cloak, now!"


Hermione watched as her best friend writhed on the ground, his chest spasming and causing more blood to pour forth from his shoulder. She rolled him onto his back as best she could, trying to discern what was wrong with him using her wand and her eyes. Ron was trying to suck in air, but his face was turning blue as the last of the skirmish was being concluded around them.

"Ron, I'll help you, I'll fix it," Hermione said, trying every healing spell she could think of. It didn't help, and he was suffocating in front of her, his shoulder still bleeding heavily. He was like a fish out of water…a fish out of water! Hermione's wand snapped, and she cast a bubble head charm on him, then on a hunch she began enhancing the air inside, enriching the oxygen levels and increasing the pressure with a guided Deprimo. Harry knelt down as pops of apparition signaled the arrival of reinforcements and the departure of those who had not been captured.

"Ron, mate, breathe please," Harry said, holding Ron's hand. "We need help here! Auror down!"

Ron's chest began to swell alarmingly even as the color started returning slowly to his face, and Hermione waved her wand somewhat unsteadily, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'll ease off the pressure…"

"You're doing good, Hermione. Just keep doing that, we'll get him to Mungo's and he'll be right as rain in a tick," Harry said steadily, seeing the panic still in Ron's eyes as he struggled for each breath.

"Yes, of course Harry," Hermione said, tears spilling down her cheeks. "You'll be just fine, Ron."

"Let's get him going! Careful now," Harry said, and Hermione saw that it was Ron's partner, Severt, who was helping to levitate Ron out of the alley. "Slow and steady! Make sure Hermione can keep up with you—watch your step with the curb, Hermione…"

It was an agonizing four minute walk back to St. Mungo's, made more difficult by the snow and the repeated 'notice me not' charms that the Aurors had to cast to get them through the last, Muggle, street.

"Help!" Harry said, his voice carrying through the lobby, recognition sparking an instant response from the receptionist. A team of Healers rushed out from a set of double doors, and Hermione gave a choking description of his symptoms, reluctant to stop administering the spell that was forcing oxygen into the bubble.

"I've got him, Granger. Let it go and let us work on him." Draco's voice was like an anesthetic, and she let him push her wand away gently, his attention fixed on Ron as they moved him off to a treatment room. She turned back to the lobby to see Molly Weasley rush through the entrance.

"Where is Ron? His hand pointed to Mortal Danger—where is my son?"

"They're treating him now, Molly," Harry said, cutting Mrs. Weasley off. "We were with Hermione, about to go to lunch and do some shopping. We were attacked, and Ron was hit with some kind of a curse that affected his lungs. Hermione managed to get him stable enough to get him here."

Mrs. Weasley fixed her attention on Hermione, enfolding her in a hard hug. "Oh my dear, I am so very sorry you are going through this. You've been through beyond enough in your lifetime. Thank you so much for what you did for Ron."

Hermione pulled back and attempted to downplay it. "He would never have been cursed if he weren't with me—"

Molly Weasley's expression turned fierce. "Don't start that nonsense. He's an Auror, danger is part of the job. I just hope those Healers are still as top notch as they were for Arthur. They work miracles here. Now, you weren't hit yourself? Have you been checked?"

Harry shook his head in answer to Molly's question, and she wiped her few tears from her eyes and said, "Well, let's have that seen to while they take care of Ron. It will give me something to do and some peace of mind to boot."

Fifteen minutes later Hermione was cleared by a mediwitch and they settled to wait for word, Arthur Weasley having arrived with Lavender in the interim.

"Molly!" Lavender shrieked, and Mrs. Weasley hugged her tight.

"There, there, Lavender, I'm sure he'll be right as rain," she said. Hermione felt Arthur put an arm around her shoulder and give her a squeeze.

"He's a stubborn one, our Ron."

"Yes he is," Hermione felt the tears coming but held them back. Harry had disappeared, probably to deal with Thorfinn Rowle at the Ministry. Finally, after what felt like an hour but was probably less than that, Draco Malfoy and another, more senior Healer came out.

"We've stabilized him, but it's not a curse we've seen before," the senior Healer explained to Lavender and the Weasleys. "He's in an induced coma for the time being, as it allows us to regulate his breathing and oxygen saturation better. But our best curse breakers are working on it, and we have every hope of being able to bring him out within a few days, perhaps a week."

"Oh my," Lavender said quietly, and the senior Healer offered, "Would you like to see your husband, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Yes, please," Lavender whispered, and the Healer offered his arm. "Only one visitor at a time, please."

"Of course," Arthur said, clasping Molly to his side. Draco took the opportunity to draw Hermione aside.

"Look, Father is back," he began, and Hermione interrupted him fiercely, her voice rising above the whisper Draco was using and drawing Molly and Arthur's attention.

"Yes, I know that. I saw him, Draco! He was there, just before the attack," Hermione said, and Draco was momentarily stunned into silence. A disapproving look on his face, Arthur stepped over to Hermione and Molly jumped into action.

"Hermione, dear, I would love it if you would come to the Burrow with us. I expect Lavender will want to stay with Ron, and we will come back to see him this evening, and to make sure Lavender gets a good night's rest."

"Granger—" Draco began, recovering his power of speech as Hermione embraced Molly fiercely.

"I would love that Molly, thank you." The absolute horror of the afternoon was beginning to tell, and Hermione was determined not to begin crying again in front of any Malfoy. Ignoring Draco's protests, Hermione marched firmly toward the Floo point, loudly saying, "The Burrow!" before she vanished in a swirl of green flames, Molly and Arthur Weasley right behind her.

"Fuck," Draco muttered to himself as she vanished.


The Burrow was warm and cozy as always, and Molly was fussing over her in the manner at which she excelled, insisting that Hermione put her feet up on a small needlepoint ottoman, and urging Arthur to stoke up the fire and "fetch the ginger lemon biscuits from the tin, there's a dear!"

Hermione felt numb, her mind unable to process everything that had gone on. It was as though the horrific curse on Ron had blotted out all other aspects, bleeding into her consciousness like the throbbing, dull panic that had shredded her self-confidence during the attack. The tears that had been threatening at St. Mungo's were now entirely absent. She just felt cold, deadened inside.

"Hermione, dear, have some tea." Molly had wisely decided that Hermione would talk about what happened when she was good and ready, and she could see that Arthur was prepared to wait, although he was too anxious to eat any biscuits. Hermione's mind now clicked into high gear, images shifting like a dreadful kaleidoscope. She kept freezing on the sight of Ron, his shoulder nearly cleaved off, his face ashen as he tried to get oxygen into his lungs. When she spoke, her voice was clinical, detached.

"You know, for some reason, I thought that if we three had survived and defeated Voldemort, that nothing could ever touch us. That despite the dangerous line of work that Harry and Ron chose, their injuries could never be as dangerous as those days. I realize now…that I was wrong." Hermione's voice broke, and all of a sudden the tears came gushing, her body wracked with sobs. Molly was instantly there, comforting her with an arm around her, rubbing her shoulder and offering soothing words as Hermione cried. Finally, Hermione sniffled, "You would have been so proud of him, Molly and Arthur! He fought so hard, against Thorfinn Rowle, and defending me from this awful witch. He was brilliant, truly brilliant, just as we know Ron to be. And I just can't stop picturing that small flick of her wrist, that little sign that she was casting at him and not me. But there was no time to warn him, no time to do anything to prevent it—"

"Duels are always messy and unpredictable. You did a great job protecting yourself and you did your best for Ron too, and he will be just fine," Molly said stoutly. "Just look at the clock dear—no longer on Mortal Peril. That's how I know, he'll be just fine."

"You said something about Lucius being there, Hermione. Can you explain what you meant?" Arthur's question was conveyed in a level tone, but there was a glint in his eye that indicated he was perhaps less objective about the subject than he'd profess to be.

"We were following him, with his French cousin. That is when we got attacked," Hermione said, although suddenly that moment stood out in sharp clarity for an instant in her mind. Before she could pinpoint why that was so, there was a knock at the door of Burrow, and Arthur got up to answer it. He opened the door to Lucius Malfoy.

"Arthur," he said coolly. "I believe you have my wife here."