Draco looked around his home and considered the changes. The place had been fairly forbidding. He'd never bothered to decorate it. The old pile of rocks had provided a roof over his head, nothing more. On good days, the stone walls had closed in around him and kept the cold world away.

Then the tempest that was his wife had stepped in. The great room had furnishings he'd never seen before. There were tapestries adorning the walls. The place looked practically homey. There was none of the austere elegance of the manor. The place actually looked warm. The exposed beams that held the roof of the great hall up gleamed. He had never noticed that they were carved to be dragons as well. Their gemstone eyes seemed to watch him as he sat gobsmacked.

How could one witch do so much in such a small amount of time? Where had she packed all of the things that now settled around the room? And where in the world had she found that demon cat? The thing had settled on the rug by the hearth and stared at him unblinkingly since the chaos began.

The night had passed in a blur after the bonding. There had been hugs and a fair share of blubbering. Most of the later had been Neville, but he'd seen the sheen of tears in his wife's eyes as well. Gryffindors seemed to enjoy a good catharsis. He was going to have to adjust to that.

He ran his fingers along his arm. There were many things to which he would be adjusting. He let his eyes fall back to the unblemished skin of his forearm. His dark mark had faded after the boy that conquered had put the rabid bastard down, but the remnants had been an unsightly reminder of his worst moments.

Their bonding had healed his arm. The swirls and knots that decorated his upper arm glistened and moved, quicksilver in the light. He was well and truly married. The runes danced in his skin. Any pure blood knew the legends. A true bonding washed away all other commitments. Nothing could rival their oaths to each other.

It seemed odd to have regained his freedom and lost it in a single ceremony.

He took a deep breath and fought the urge to grin like a fool. He had never felt this sense of comfort and belonging. Trusting his magic was brilliant.

Bonding with Granger had freed him from more than his father's machinations. He smiled. He felt like a new man. He was able to admit things he'd always known. His wife was easily the most intelligent of their generation and he was more than a bit terrified by the amount of power she could bring forth. Her blood status didn't matter. The legacy of hatred that defined generations of his family would end with him. If he was a very lucky man, his children would be half as powerful as his wife.

Draco ducked as a tea set whizzed by his ear. He glared at the passing bits of crookery. Half as powerful offspring would be very welcome. His wife was a menace. A powerful menace, but a menace all the same. He glanced up at her as she directed the whirling chaos with complete confidence. She'd stepped into the tower his ancestors had built at the time of Merlin and smiled at the carved dragons adorning the fireplace. There has been no hesitation. Perhaps his children would be brave and cunning, ambitious and loyal.

She hummed and he watched books fly out of a tiny beaded bag. Of course, his swotty wife would come with her own bloody library. He should have expected that at the very least.

"Are you planning to continue this for the next few hours?" He smiled as her eyes landed on him. "Aiming for dawn?"

"I haven't been able to unpack in years." Hermione sighed as a lovely carpet unrolled itself under his couch. Of course, she was levitating him as well with nary a by your leave. "I can do the rest over the next few days. We should set the wards. We promised Augusta."

"I think you like spilling my blood." Draco grumbled as the carved wooden box floated passed him.

"I like being safe." Hermione's eyes dropped to the stone stairs she was standing on. "I want both of us to be safe."

"And you're nervous about our wedding night." Draco smirked until he caught the flash of fear in his wife's eyes. His brave and amazing wife was terrified. The woman had ridden a real dragon. How intimidating could a night spent in his arms really be?

He watched as she bustled about, grabbing a jumper that she disappeared in. Did she own anything flattering? He would have to take her shopping before his father tried to freeze his accounts.

"If you don't hurry, I'll make the cut deep." She tossed her hair over her shoulder.

He grinned and followed her out their oversized front doors. This he understood. His lioness had her back up. Casual threats and a stiffened spine came shortly before the Sparks of wild magic formed in her hair.

"Is the notion of being intimate with me so intimidating?" Draco smirked as little sparks decorated her hair in the darkness.

He could see her fighting the urge to attack. Perhaps pushing her buttons on their wedding night was poorly done.

She sliced his hand quickly and chanted as he rubbed his blood on the ward stones. He felt the push of power rise from the earth through him. She sliced her hand and he pressed her hand to the stone. Their blood soaked into the stone. The wards rose around them. It was like watching the northern lights dance around them. He smiled as a sense of security settled into his very bones.

Her hunched shoulders stirred his guilt. The witch had been planning a very different life for herself. Trusting in their magic was rewarding him, but she might be less pleased.

"I'm nervous." Her whispered words broke the silence between them. "I've never..."

Her blush told him all he needed to know. His wife was untouched. He swallowed. It might have been less shocking if she had punched him in the nose again.