A/N: I don't own Harry Potter or any related characters

I have not given up or abandoned any fics, I promise I'm going to try to update things! Just bear with me, it's been a crazy year, this one and the last, but I'm going to try.

Draco waved his wand over the wards protecting the manor. Hermione watched him.

"There, that should be all of them. I already did a spell to check to see if anyone is here. There's no one. Even the house elves are gone."

"Good," Hermione muttered. Draco bit back the urge to laugh. He remembered Hermione's save the house elves thing from school. It had been one of the most ridiculous things he'd ever heard. Now, it seemed almost tame compared to this latest farce.

"You ready to enter your new home, Granger?" he asked, remembering how she'd been brought here during the war, tortured here during the war.

"I'm ready and you should probably stop calling me 'Granger', I mean, we are married and logically I have taken your last name."

"Fine, Hermione, ready to enter your new home?" Draco corrected, smirking at the slight look of fear on Hermione's face.

"I'm ready," she answered, meeting his eyes. He could see her trying to be brave, trying not to let the past resurface. Part of him almost called it off, said they could go to her flat, but this was his home and if she wanted to drag him into whatever she was up to, he didn't think for a moment it was just about saving his father's soul, then he was going to play the part.

"Good," he replied, pushing open the door.

He could see the manor had fallen into some disrepair. Draco cast a light charm, causing all the lights in the house to turn on. He could see Hermione looking around. They couldn't see the drawing room where she'd been tortured from here, but it was obvious it was on her mind. Draco ignored her looking around his former home. There were large cobwebs forming in the corners of the high ceilings. There was a layer of dust coating everything. He wondered how long it had been since anyone had been here.

His parents had both died during the war, at least that's what he'd been told. Apparently that had been a lie, at least if he believed Hermione. He'd seen his mother fall, seen his aunt holding the wand that fired the spell killing her. Bellatrix had always been insane, never believing anyone to be as loyal as her. The fact Narcissa cared more about Draco than Lord Voldemort had never sat well with her.

"It looks alright, I mean, there's some cleaning to be done," Hermione was saying, pulling Draco from his thoughts.

"I'd offer to see if I could get one of the elves back, but I doubt you'd approve," Draco commented. Hermione glared at him. He smirked at the expression on her face.

"You're right, I wouldn't. The party announcing our marriage is the day after tomorrow. That will give us all tomorrow to work on fixing this place up enough. Then we've got to go over the files, see if any of the leads are worth tracking, maybe this is going to take longer than I thought," Hermione groaned, sinking into one of the chairs. Draco snorted as a cloud of dust filled the air.

"Cleaning won't take us long. I know a few spells that will help. Mother always said learning domestic spells was a good way to win a witch's heart, not that my father could do any of them."

"I don't see Lucius as the cleaning type."

"No, Father was one of the ones who made certain we had the elves. It's late, we should get some sleep. I'll show you where the guest rooms are, you can take your pick."

"Fine," Hermione agreed, following Draco up the stairs. They stopped in front of a door.

"Here's one of the guest rooms. This one has the soft bed and a bathroom. I'll be in my room," he stated, pointing to a room two doors down and to the right. Hermione nodded.

"Fine, but if anyone asks..."

"We're sharing a bed because we're married and we had a wild time because I finally got to see you after being in Azkaban," Draco replied, rolling his grey eyes. Hermione shot him a half smile half smirk.

"Right, night Draco."

"Good night, Hermione," he replied making sure she was in for the night before heading to his own room. It hadn't changed since he'd been in school. Ignoring all the Quidditch posters, the books on the desk, and everything else, Draco flopped down on the bed and wondered if Hermione was right.

Was his father really alive? If so, where was he? Hermione probably thought Draco would know, otherwise why would she have broken him out? He wondered what she would do once she realized the truth, that he had no idea where his father could be hiding. Would she hate him, call off this charade and have him thrown back behind bars? Sighing, Draco closed his eyes and started to drift off to sleep. At least here, he knew he could sleep safely without having to worry about someone attempting to kill him.