I left Draco's room feeling flustered. Having to hold his nearly entirely naked body in my arms had been unbelievably stimulating and frustrating. He was slightly thinner than before but his form hadn't changed that much from the one I knew so well, and I was starving for his body.

Naturally, he smelled identical to his prior self and his skin felt the same on mine. There had been several moments filled with sexual tension where he'd looked at me with his familiar silvery eyes, our noses close as I held him up in the warm water, and all I had wanted to do was kiss him. But it was imperative that I keep in mind he was both terribly injured and also, he didn't remember me at all. Any move I made on him would be wildly inappropriate and might even upset him deeply.

I braided my now damp hair as I walked towards the fireplaces in the front lobby, having previously dressed myself properly for a visit to the Ministry of Magic. Unfortunately the bath scenario could not have been foreseen and now I was questioning whether or not to wait an additional day to apply for a job there, given that I was slightly less presentable.

The job idea had announced itself to me after waiting days for a return owl from France with no luck. I had been fidgety in my room, and could no longer withstand the sensation of being trapped there once again. If I couldn't go home, I wanted to keep myself busy instead of mulling around in the Manor depressed and trying to forget about Draco. I had been horribly nauseas every morning so far which was only tempting me to try and sleep in to avoid it, which could in turn snowball into a terrible habit. It was important that I structure my days more appropriately.

As I entered the lobby I abruptly halted, almost running into Dr. Hallewell who was poking at a stone statue with awkward, feigned interest. When he noticed me eyeing him down he turned and popped on the spot like a popcorn kernel on the stove, then straightened his yellow suit with his mustache twitching, "Ah. Madeleine, what excellent timing. I have come again today to evaluate Draco and yourself - you and I have yet to speak regarding your...recovery." An ill expression drifted across his face.

"I am busy," I curtly replied in a rude tone. I crossed my arms and stared at him darkly, daring him to challenge me.

He coughed and tugged at the collar of his dress shirt, "Your mother...mother IN LAW, my apologies, has insisted that you be examined immediately. This is without request. It is compulsory of us both that we ensure that your health is being met to standard." His brown eyes held my gaze in return, and I was impressed. He was clearly scared of me, but somehow standing his ground.

I decided the day was already thrown off by having to take care of Draco, so I let my arms drop to my sides. "Very well," I snarled in a rancid tone, fighting to control a sneer creeping across my face. He nodded, swallowing deeply, and gestured his thick hand towards the informal dining room down the hall. I followed him with my high heels clicking rhythmically and threateningly behind him.

He stopped and pulled out a pale pink dining chair with rose patterns that groaned with the movement, obviously dating back decades. I sat across from him in a matching one. It was silent for a moment as he ruffled in his briefcase, pulling out stacks of research parchments and placing them on the table. I glanced out the arched windows into the gardens as he set up for what was likely going to be more of an interrogation rather than a basic assessment. He prepared a blank piece of parchment and paused with a quill at the ready, "Madeleine, you were in winter for nearly three weeks. Tell me, what was this experience like for you? What level of sentience did you possess for the duration of the chrysalis?"

I narrowed my eyes at the odd verbiage. "What do you mean in winter?"

He pressed his lips together in a weighty frown and his thick, white mustache twisted in a half moon on his round face, "Surprising, that you are lacking knowledge of such matters. What I refer to is termed as a Veela winter. An ancient comatose transformation, occurring when a Veela overexerts one's magic, and crosses the line. My research suggests that it is a dark place within the mind."

I slammed my flat palm down on the table, enjoying watching him shrivel backwards into his chair. He had once, when I was weaker, mercilessly provided me with harsh medical care. I grinned at him with burning black eyes, "It was like...peace. Quiet. Darkness. I meditated at de bottom of a black ocean surrounded by maleficence. I was aware dat I was dere, but I could not leave it of my own accord. I simply woke up one day, 'ere, wit' no sense of time 'aving passed."

He scribbled furiously in what could arguably be described as ornate chicken scratch. I watched his hand and the words that it produced, trying to decipher the doctoral calligraphy. Once he was done recording, he prodded me further, "Were you alone in this place?"

My eyes roved over the grey tablecloth's design as though something were quite interesting to be found there. I thought of my nightmare the evening prior, Ascelin, and the so-called Kingdom of Moons. I had been alone during my "winter", but since then I had returned, and discovered another being in that realm. I decided he didn't need to know about what could possibly have been a nightmare, but also possibly not. "I was alone," I replied dryly.

He wrote that down as well with a raised eyebrow, "You are sure? Literature proposes that this transformative space is tied to a domain that can be accessed for communication between Veela."

"Yes I was alone, I don' know what you are talking about," I seethed partially dishonestly, leaning towards him like a tiger prepared to strike. He was writing and didn't notice my advance, and I looked away at pillars supporting the architecture of the room with my eyes blinking in rage. I had to take several substantive breaths to calm myself down and force the dark magic back underneath my skin.

He shoved his chair back a few inches and the pitched screeching of wood on wood drew my attention back to him rapidly. He was watching me intently with unmasked concern that I would burst into flames, "I mean you no encumbrance, Madeleine. Let us conclude this as quickly as possible so that I may be on my way to Draco who requires a considerable amount more care. Let's continue. I would go so far as to assume that you have, based on your contemporary disposition and how I knew you to be before, that you are experiencing some changes in personality. Please elaborate on any revisions to your emotional state."

I raised my chin and glared at him through hooded eyes. He looked back at me boldly with his quill hovering over the parchment. I wondered in that moment what his motivation was to provide me with medical care at Narcissa's request, despite my attempts to veer him off. He seemed to have enough distinguishment amongst wizarding society; why on Earth he felt the need to respond to the Malfoy's like a servant was being me.

He had in fact known me before taking the dark mark when I was sweet and innocent - when I had been a prisoner in the Malfoy residence and cried more often than not. Of course he would be noting updates in my temperament. A thought crossed my mind that he would gain significant prestige from any findings he took from me, being the only Veela for hundreds of years to ascend, and this only served to inflate my irritation.

I shriveled my nose as I replied in a low voice, "Yes, I am not de same. I never will be. You would be a fool to attempt to mitigate it. It is too late for me."

"Why is it too late, Madeleine? When would you say that you began to identify as crossing over?" He responded hastily, his expensive quill making sharp scratching noises that caused my eye to twitch. He was interviewing me as though I was the demon from The Exorcist, and I despised every second of it.

I lifted my left arm and let it drop with a loud thunk on the table, ripping the blue sleeve of my dress back to reveal the slithering dark mark of Lord Voldemort, "When I was branded wit' dis fucking thing."

His brown eyes trailed over the quivering movement of the tattooed dark mark that was heavily pronounced against my pale white skin; the skull, the snake slithering from it's mouth... The imagery was uncomfortable and hostile at best. I could see him diagnosing me even before he spoke, "Interesting. Veela have been known to be temperamental for centuries, and have often pushed themselves across the line with a singular emotional crisis. This is a matter of more than one factor - an unprecedented case, certainly. I wonder, Madeleine, would you be willing to provide me with a sample of your blood?"

At the mention of it I quickly retracted my arm with an unfriendly expression, "No."

He closed his eyes temporarily and then dropped the quill. He toyed with his wand on the table, "Then perhaps, a diagnostics check? I would like to evaluate your energy and physical state. I can hear already that your lungs and ribs are damaged simply from the manner of your breathing."

I pushed my chair back aggressively and stood, having lost my patience with the interaction. I straightened my dress to dismiss him. "Den you may give me 'ealing potions. I do not consent to dis diagnostics," I growled in a biting French tone. "And as for Draco, I took care of 'im already. 'e is sleeping now, leave 'im alone."

Hallewell also stood, eyeing me with disdain as he collected his notes from the appraisal, "Alright, Madeleine. I will provide you with a set of healing potions, one to be taken each morning." He reached into the suitcase and lined up a row of glowing pink potions in small glass vials in the center of the table. They throbbed with the obnoxious colors of Easter eggs, like liquid candies. "These should clear up any internal injuries, as long as they are not extraordinary. I will return in two days time - if they cause any sickness or are perfunctory, please inform me then."

He turned to leave, then abruptly rotated back to me with a quizzical note in his eyes, "Although, I am curious as to why you administered any treatment to Draco, when you insinuate that you are beyond saving?" He shut the briefcase with a sudden snap and remained in place, waiting for me to respond.

I ground my jaw back and forth as I thought. I could not explain either why I had been so generous to Draco in his time of need. Perhaps below it all there really was a fragment of my former loving self clinging to the edge of my heart. Something was holding my nose just above the surface of evil that I was swimming in. I couldn't say for sure, but maybe it could be expanded upon, somehow. I cocked my head to the side and looked at him blankly, "Because, I don' 'ave memory loss like 'im. I remember all dat 'e did for me. 'e is my 'usband, and 'e as been by my side for years. Why wouldn't I?"

He levelled his gaze, and his voice came out gravelly, "Just a curiosity. You should know, if you truly have taken care of him since your awakening, there are conflicting signals in your recorded behavior. Something to consider. Perhaps you are not as lost as you purport. I will follow up with you next week - consider it therapy." He left without another word, briskly making his way to the front door as though a gnome was gnawing at his heels the entire journey across the ground floor of the Manor. I glanced down at my darkened wedding ring, where the little moonstone fought to continue glowing in the beautiful metal it was embedded into.