Glancing up, Hermione froze at a rustling noise coming from the sitting room of her small flat. The stack of clothes she'd been levitating towards her trunk collapsed to the floor in a heap. Cautiously, she crept to the door of her bedroom and peered into the corridor, wand clenched in her white-knuckled hand.

"Hermione?"

Releasing a sigh, she lowered her wand. "Harry, what are you doing here?"

Harry's emerald eyes were startled as he stared around her flat. "What's happened here? Were you robbed? Why didn't you Floo me right away?"

"I wasn't robbed," she huffed, rolling her eyes even as a bitter twist of unease settled into her stomach. "I'm packing."

Lowering his chin, Harry shook his head. "I don't understand. Where are you going?"

Hermione fixed Harry with a stern look as she blew out a long breath. "I'm moving. To Wiltshire."

"What's in Wiltsh—" Cutting himself off, Harry's jaw dropped, and instantly he stuttered a step back. "No—don't tell me you actually—"

"Fine," Hermione sighed. "I won't tell you."

As if suddenly realizing the full gravity of the situation, Harry grabbed hold of her shoulders, his fingers digging into the fabric of her jumper. "Tell me, Hermione, you didn't go."

With a gentle nod, she said, "I went."

A long moment of silence hung, suspended, between them as Harry simply stared; she could see the cogs whirring behind his gaze. "So then you're, what—"

Hermione sucked in a breath and blew it out through her nose. "Malfoy's asked me to be his Lunae Amor. We're… I'm marrying him, Harry."

"No!" Harry exclaimed, shaking his head. "No, you can't—Hermione, this isn't your fight! Merlin, tell me this is a fucking joke or something—"

Although she gave an involuntary wince, she held firm, already having realized no one would understand why she needed to do this. In a startling, surreal moment, she felt more of a kinship with Malfoy than anyone else. Because people would ask why he cared so much, too.

"Don't you get it?" she asked, her voice a hoarse whisper. "It has to be my fight. This sort of discrimination needs to end. The situation in France is only growing worse by the week."

"Merlin…" Harry muttered, dragging a hand through his hair as he paced her sitting room. "Then find another way, Hermione! You can't honestly tell me you want to marry that bloody—"

He was cut off mid-tirade by the sharp scratching of talons on the window. Releasing a tight breath, Hermione stretched over a pile or boxes to reach the window, and the same massive owl from several days previous flew in, decked in its Nocturnus livery.

Harry grimaced. "Is that owl wearing a fucking kerchief—"

"Yes," Hermione interrupted, scrounging in a drawer for some owl treats as she swiped the missive. After swallowing the snacks in one bite, the owl faced her with large yellow eyes. Turning back to Harry, she forced a smile. "It's Malfoy's owl."

"That's the most pretentious thing I've ever—"

Cutting him off with a loud click of her tongue, Hermione read the letter, eyes widening.

Granger

What's your address? We need to go through this contract, and I need to get out of the Manor for a while.

DM

Having already packed her stationery, Hermione dug around for a stray quill and inkwell and scrawled a response on the back of the same scroll before handing it back to the owl. With a low hoot, the bird took flight through the window once more.

Feeling a dull flush colour her cheeks and neck, she watched the owl's flight. Softly, she said, "I have to meet with Malfoy. We can carry on with this discussion later. But everything's already in motion. He's asked me, and I've confirmed. The bonding ceremony is to take place under the coming full moon."

When she chanced a sidelong glance at Harry, he was gaping in horror. "You can't be—" Growing more agitated, he wrenched a hand through his hair again, and his voice dropped. "Why didn't you tell me you were doing this?"

"Because you would have tried to stop me," she whispered, feeling a sting of moisture at the corners of her eyes. Through all of it, she'd done her best to keep a level head because the entire matter was bigger than her. But now her doubts and insecurities bled through.

This was for the rest of her life. And how could she manage dealing with Malfoy for that long? What if she came to regret it?

The despair mingled with sympathy on Harry's face was nearly her undoing in that moment, and as she stared at him, eyes wide and burning with the threat of hot tears, she found herself lost for words, a heavy furrow in her brow.

"Hermione," Harry groaned, shaking his head. "You don't need to save everyone."

Barking out a laugh, she swiped at a tear as it broke and chased down her cheek. "Some might say I learned that from you."

Scrunching up his face, he muttered, "You bloody well might have done." Then he sighed, tugging her into his arms as she released a noisy sniffle. "But no matter what… you've got me, and you'll still have me. Even if you marry Malfoy. Which, by the way, is a repulsive thought."

With a watery laugh, Hermione wrapped her arms tightly around his midsection. "Thanks, Harry. I know this is a bomb."

Drawing back, he held her shoulders at arms' length. "Insane fucking bomb. But Hermione, no matter how many servants you have, how many Malfoy spawn you have to produce, or how powerful your little mysterious order is… you'll be my friend first."

His sentimental words spurred forth a fresh stinging of tears, and as she wiped at her eyes with a nod, there was a whoosh behind her as the Floo flared to life.

Startled, she leapt back, blinking at Harry. "Malfoy's coming over. We have to go through the contract."

Harry stood firm, his expression hardening as he folded his arms across his front and not-so-subtly turned himself towards the fireplace grate.

Clad in a simple Oxford and trousers—the most casual she had seen him since all of this had begun—Malfoy stepped from the Floo, his expression unreadable as he took in first Harry's protective stance and then Hermione—and she suspected her own face was red and blotchy.

With a quick, noncommittal, "Potter," he strode forward, chin held high as he approached her, drawing a shrunken scroll from his pocket and enlarging it. "We need to go through this."

Forcing a nod, she cast a glance at Harry, whose eyes were narrowed and focused tightly on the side of Malfoy's head.

"Right," she mused, accepting the scroll. "Harry, we'll talk later, okay?"

But Harry didn't respond but to take a step closer to Malfoy, who stiffened at the threat on Harry's face even as he didn't leave Hermione's side. In fact, if she wasn't mistaken, he actually angled himself between them.

"Do you need something, Potter? I imagine Granger's already told you everything there is to know," Malfoy said, although his tone was lacking the malice she might have expected.

"I need," Harry ground out, his jaw clenched, "to know that you aren't forcing Hermione into some convoluted arrangement for your own benefit." After a long moment, he released a breath and added, "And I need to know you aren't going to treat her as some pawn in your ascent to power. Because she deserves better than this for her life."

"Harry—" Hermione bit out, a flush creeping into her face, but Malfoy's stare snapped to hers for a moment.

"Firstly, Potter," he said, turning back to Harry, "Granger approached me of her own volition, fully aware of the situation. She has had numerous opportunities to change her mind, and given the contract isn't finalised, she can still walk away this very minute."

He paused, and when Hermione didn't say anything, he went on. "The fact that you even suggest I'll treat her as a pawn tells me you don't understand the bonds between the Lunae Ortus and his Lunae Amor, but for the sake of time, I'll simply say no, she won't be a pawn. If anything, she will have as much or more control over the situation than I will. And thirdly… you're right." He offered a simple shrug. "She does deserve better than being chained to me for the rest of her life. But Granger and I have a common goal, and we both realize the importance of the matter at hand—and this is all larger than any one person."

For a brief, fleeting instant, Hermione wondered when Malfoy had become so diplomatic—so regal. Even in his stance, he emanated a quiet strength she had caught only glimpses of in their previous meetings.

Opting to keep silent as the two men stared one another down, a quick breath of relief chased from her lungs when Harry nodded, stepping back. "Fine. But believe me, Malfoy, if you so much as hurt her—"

"I cannot," Malfoy interrupted, "hurt my Lunae Amor."

His words shot a chill down Hermione's spine, and for a brief instant, his grey eyes met hers with a hint of warmth she'd never seen.

Then he went on. "Physically, at least. I can't promise I won't upset her as we learn to work together."

With a gentle snicker, Hermione interjected, "I'm sure that will be mutual."

Eyes flickering between the two of them, Harry dropped his arms and slid his hands into his pockets with a nod. "Fine. Hermione, I'll see you soon." He activated the Floo and was gone.

Malfoy's quiet snort of derision broke the tension that remained as he peered around her flat. "What sort of disaster happened here?"

Scowling, Hermione paced towards the kitchen. "I'm moving, remember?"

"I know," he mused, rolling his eyes. "I'm only kidding. Potter seems… hostile."

With a sigh, Hermione reached for her chair only for Malfoy to beat her to it, idly drawing it away from the table as if it were a natural reaction. Startled, she eyed him for a moment before taking the seat. When he stared at her, lifting one brow, she said, "Are you surprised? I'd only just told him about all of this."

Malfoy barked a laugh as he slipped smoothly into the chair across from her. "Then no, I don't suppose I am surprised." Glancing around, he added, "It looks as if you're nearly set to go."

"Almost," she affirmed with a nod. If they could manage to keep things amenable for finalizing the contract, it would be best for them both. "Later today or tomorrow I will be able to bring my things over."

"I'll have the elves—" Malfoy began, but froze partway. "I mean, I will come over and transport your boxes—"

Snickering at his reaction, Hermione shook her head. "I'm not going to throw a fit over your house-elves. But I am perfectly capable of bringing everything over myself."

"Nonsense," he muttered. "That isn't your role."

Choosing to accept his words at face value, she bit down on her tongue with the realisation that she would be a Malfoy soon. And having been a Malfoy his entire life, it was all he knew.

"So," he prompted, duplicating the contract laid out on the table between them so they could both view a copy. "Where are we at since we last spoke? Have you decided which job you're going to keep?" There was a hint of amusement on his face that she also opted to ignore.

"No," she said primly, "I haven't. And I won't need to decide until the bonding, will I?"

"Preferably before," he intoned, marking a note on his copy of the contract. "There will be a lot to do in order to prepare."

"Then I will keep my job at the Ministry," she mused, "and leave Flourish and Blotts."

"You do realize your involvement at the Ministry is sort of a direct contradiction to everything the Nocturnus Order stands for, right? It was created long before organized government as we know it now, in an effort to establish order." He looked bored as he leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms across his chest. "Besides, you'll have daytime meetings to attend."

"Fine. I'll keep my part-time job at Flourish and Blotts."

Rationally, she understood it wasn't about taking away her ability to work so much as it was managing her time and the image they presented as a unified front, but there was something about not letting Malfoy take everything from her that had her digging in her heels.

Leaning forward again, Malfoy said, "I hope they're flexible with your schedule, then. Because we'll have evening functions, travel out of country, and other things that will inevitably come up."

Hermione scowled. "I will be sure they're aware."

Staring at the table for a long moment, Malfoy tapped an irritating rhythm with his fingertips that made her want to snap at him. But she drew in a long breath instead, until he said, "Were you able to go through some of the materials I sent over?"

"Yes," Hermione said with a nod. Academia was comfortable territory. "It's all quite fascinating, isn't it? The way everything originated and how it's progressed."

"It is," he agreed. "And I don't imagine you found any of that in your research beforehand."

Shaking her head, Hermione stared at him. "Would you like something to drink?"

He blinked at the offer. "Water would be good."

Hermione filled a carafe from the tap, silently daring him to complain as she delivered two glasses. But he simply poured himself one and took a long sip before turning the page in the contract.

As Hermione settled back into her own seat, she sighed. "Why were you so anxious to leave the Manor? I can't imagine my flat is your idea of a proper place to hold a meeting."

Malfoy rolled his eyes before dropping his head back over his chair. The word he spoke was drawn out and full of irritation. "Hugo." After another sip of his water he went on, "You'll meet Hugo, but only because he's on the council and I can't stop you. He won't stop prattling about the most inane things imaginable, and his attitude."

His melodrama made her titter, and unable to stop herself, she quipped, "He sounds like you."

Scowling, he responded, "That's the problem. He's me if I hadn't fought in a war. He told me not to select you as my Lunae Amor because your blood will sully the Malfoy line. Just so you're aware what sort of a person he is."

"That isn't entirely surprising," Hermione mused, "and in fact, I'd be shocked if he's the only one that feels that way."

He gave her a hard look. "And now he won't stop going on about taking me out for a stag do. Which is the least of my concerns right now."

Despite his irritable countenance, Hermione couldn't stop the mirth that escaped her before she could clap a hand over her mouth. "You should," she offered with a grin. "Unwind a little. Sounds like Hugo's just trying to look out for his Lunae Ortus."

"Trust me," Malfoy muttered darkly, "the only person Hugo's looking out for is himself."

Given the intensity of the situation and everything that had been going on lately, Hermione found herself giggling at the thought of him going out for a casual evening and celebrating his impending nuptials. Between the serious circumstances around the selection process, and now the finalizing of the contract, it felt so banal and ordinary to imagine Malfoy sloshed on whisky at the club.

When he lifted a pale brow, she only repeated, "You should. Go out."

It was also the first conversation the pair of them had engaged in that hadn't been about details regarding the marriage. So when he flashed her a weak attempt at a smile, it set her off again.

"You're off your bloody rocker," he said, dragging a hand down his face. "I'll consider it. Blaise and Theo have been on my case to go out as well. Like this is just any old wedding. I never asked for a stag, nor do I want one."

For an instant, discussing such a topic, and with the reference to his old mates from school, it felt like just any other day—except for the fact that Draco Malfoy was in her kitchen.

"Then you should do a hen thing," he said, waving a hand. "Although maybe we should agree to no strippers. The Prophet would have a field day. And I'm sure the guards will feel the need to go along, so that might be awkward..."

"I don't want a hen party," Hermione mused, interrupting his aimless meandering. "I don't have many female friends, and I certainly wouldn't want any strippers there."

Rolling his eyes, he scanned the contract once more. "I'll get you some bloody friends. You're about to become one of the most influential women in the entire wizarding world."

"And by friends, of course, you mean—"

"Sycophants," he continued, a wry grin spreading across his face.

"Right. I'll pass."

Malfoy offered her a grimace. "If I have to have one, you do too."

"That isn't in the contract."

A trace of a smirk lingered on his face. "I'll write it in. Don't think I won't."

As a laugh bubbled past her lips, she couldn't stop herself from grinning at him. There was a moment, before his smile faded away, when things felt almost comfortable between them. Then Hermione was reminded of the fact that he'd treated her like the dirt beneath his feet for years—and she was set to marry him within a matter of weeks. The smile fell, sour, from her face. He glanced back to the contract.

"Was there anything else we needed to finalise?" Lifting her brows, she stared at him expectantly. "I've got to finish packing."

"Right," he muttered, sweeping a hand through his hair. "I guess there's the matter of your family—Muggles won't be able to cross through the wards at the bonding ceremony, so they'll have to—"

"You don't need to worry about my parents," Hermione interjected, feeling the old despair clutch at her chest as colour graced her cheeks. "They're in Australia. They won't need to come to the ceremony."

There was something like curiosity on Malfoy's face. "I thought you'd fight me on that for sure—demand I fly them out or something, which of course, if it were any other wedding I would—"

As evenly as she could manage, she said, "They don't remember me. I altered their memories during the war so they wouldn't be targeted as a way to get to me."

Malfoy fell silent, lips parted as his cool stare met hers. "They don't—" He made a face. "They don't remember you at all?"

"Not at all."

Looking awkward, he shifted in his seat. "That doesn't sound right. Have you consulted with Healers?"

"Both here and abroad," she said, her tone quiet. "I wasn't certain at the time, and for years I held hope, but there's nothing to be done." Releasing a long breath, she added, "I prefer if we don't speak of it, if you don't mind."

Thick tension hung between them, as evident as the tightness in his shoulders as he breathed, "Fuck, Granger." Shaking his head slowly, he added, "Do you want me to look into it—"

"No," she whispered. "I've looked… and looked."

Something flickered in his stare—she couldn't stand the thought that it might have been pity—until finally he nodded. "Fine." He skimmed the rest of the contract before turning to face her. "Was there anything else you thought of that you'd like to add? And keep in mind this isn't set in stone. Either of us can bring something up once the marriage is in place, and as long as we both agree it'll be accepted. This is just a means of creating a preliminary agreement. Since this isn't a conventional marriage, we are foregoing the dowry… but now would be the chance to name a bride price."

Huffing a breath, Hermione wished the conversation would steer clear of family. "I don't have a bride price… and if you would have required a dowry, I probably wouldn't be able to pay it."

Chewing his tongue thoughtfully, Malfoy leaned in. "It doesn't make a difference to me. My mother and I are willing to offer you a tidy sum. You'll have access to the Malfoy vaults soon enough, and… Granger, you could ensure your parents never want for anything the rest of their lives."

Staring back at him, her mouth felt dry as she said, "I haven't done any of this for your money."

"Think about it." Leaning back, he gave the impression that the time for sensitivity was over. "There is one last thing, and I know you're going to say no without consideration. It's unorthodox, the way I've Ascended after two generations without a Lunae. And obviously you know the situation with Death Eaters after the war—" Grimacing, he carded a hand through his hair. "I'm going to need to tell my father."

"I see," Hermione replied, "and does that require my presence?"

He tapped the tip of his quill on the table as he stared at the contract for a long moment. Finally, he released a sigh. "Yes. I'm afraid it should."

"Very well." Forcing a smile, she added, "Let me know when. I hear Azkaban is nice this time of year."

Author's Note: Thank you all so much for reading! I really hope you're enjoying the story. I just wanted to make a quick mention on the update schedule, since a few people have commented. As of now, the story is set to update on Mondays for two reasons. The first being that the story isn't yet complete, and I'd rather post weekly than every 4-5 days and run out of content, and then have nothing to share. And secondly, I have three other people helping me with this story, and it's important to me to respect their time as well :) Once the story is completed, or at least further along, I'll look to increase the pace. I hope that makes sense!

Alpha love to Kyonomiko and LadyKenz347; beta hugs to ravenslight!