The door into Granger's quarters was ajar; Draco knocked, regardless, then edged into her sitting area. Granger stood with her back towards him, fidgeting with a long curl as she stared around the furnished room.

"Getting on alright?" he asked, sliding his hands into his trouser pockets.

If he startled her with his presence, she hid it well. "Just deciding on where I'll put a few things. The elves took it upon themselves to unpack my clothing and books."

Draco stepped forward to stand alongside her. "They do that." Glancing around, he added, "Feel free to reorganise as you like. This is your space now."

Granger had moved in the evening before, and Draco had opted to give her space to get settled in. He had offered to show her around the rest of the Manor, but he didn't want to push when she wasn't accustomed to such a large space. Her quarters were next door to his, but he'd had the adjoining door sealed shut in case she wasn't comfortable with such direct access.

He hadn't wanted to open the can of worms regarding procreation because technically, that wouldn't be a rush, even if it was a part of the contract. They had more important issues to deal with first.

"I might." Her head fell to the side in a thoughtful tilt. "Although I do quite like the way everything is arranged now."

"My mother will be pleased. She decorated this room herself."

A trace of surprise flickered across Granger's expression. "I haven't seen your mother yet."

Ducking his head into a nod, he murmured, "She is hoping we'll join her for tea this afternoon; I believe she thought you might prefer the time and space to get your things in order as you like them."

"I appreciate that." Her chocolate stare landed on his for a moment. "Your room is through there?"

Following her gaze, Draco nodded again. "My living quarters adjoin with yours. But there is no connection between the bedrooms or the bathrooms."

A dull hint of colour swelled in her cheeks. "This is all very extravagant. Growing up, my family was well off by usual standards. But this…"

Swallowing, Draco felt uncomfortable, recalling what she had shared about her parents.

Pressing her lips into a somewhat forced smile, she finished her own thought. "I suppose it's a different level of wealth than I've experienced."

Attempting to infuse some of the casual ease from the other day into the stilted conversation, Draco mused, "And it'll all be yours."

But Granger only frowned. "Of course it won't be mine. As I said before, I haven't done any of this because I wanted your money."

"Call it a fortunate side effect, then," Draco said, making to retreat to his own quarters. Perhaps they would do the tour later.

Her lips curved into a smile, though, and some of the tension dropped from her countenance. "I suppose I can do that. I'll have to get used to it, right?" The question felt rhetorical, and he offered her a smirk. "When are we to meet your mother?"

"Two."

Peering at her wristwatch, Granger nodded. "Maybe we should do the tour beforehand."

Adjusting his tie, Draco mused, "Very well."

Draco paced forward to press a kiss to each of his mother's cheeks before dropping back alongside Granger with a gentle hand to her lower back. "Mother, please meet Hermione Granger. Properly."

A thoughtful expression sat on Granger's face. "Mrs Malfoy. It's a pleasure to see you again."

"Miss Granger," Narcissa said, stepping forward with her warmest attempt at a smile. "The pleasure is mine. And please—call me Narcissa. After all, you will be family in… what is it, two weeks now?"

"Two weeks," Draco echoed; the words clanged awkwardly in the space between the three of them. "Technically, twelve days."

Between the preparations for the open call, the meetings with Granger that had followed, and now her presence in the Manor, it was difficult to believe Draco's Ascension had already been more than two weeks ago.

It was also both remarkable and discomforting how quickly everything was happening.

Drawing out Granger's seat, even as she fired him a look, Draco called for Podski to prepare the tea. As the elf popped into the room, elation crossed his face at the sight of Granger, and she smiled warmly back at him as she took her seat.

The three of them waited in silence while Podski prepared the tea with a practiced efficiency, and Draco found his mother's stare on him.

"Have you shown Miss Granger around the Manor?" she asked, folding her hands carefully in her lap.

His mother had been anxious about the idea ever since he had announced she would be his Lunae Amor—Merlin knew Granger's earliest experience in their home had been volatile, to say the least. He nodded. "I have—parts, at least."

It would take days to show her every minute detail.

"As expected," Granger said as she accepted her cup of tea from Podski with a gracious nod, "my favourite room was the library. I'm only concerned I won't be able to find it on my own—the Manor is quite the labyrinth, isn't it?"

Draco smirked. "You'll be there often enough, I'm sure."

His mother offered the pair of them a demure smile. "In fact, Miss Granger, Malfoy Manor was not always so large or elaborate. Over the years, the grounds were annexed and the house expanded. The earliest Malfoy ancestors in England were… paranoid. There are many hidden rooms and pathways—Merlin knows if we even know of them all."

Eyes lit with intrigue, Granger turned to him. "Perhaps I'll go exploring."

"Of course," Narcissa added hastily, "there are also corridors and rooms you'll want to avoid. In many areas of the Manor, dark curses linger."

Her expression flashed, but Draco cut in before she could speak. "What she means is, over the years, traces of magic have built up. It's only important to exercise caution in areas unknown."

Granger relaxed a little, even though her face remained tight.

"I'll take you exploring," Draco offered, uncertain why the words left his mouth when she lifted a brow. "If you want."

But she gave a prim nod and took a sip of her tea. "That sounds nice."

At his low snicker, her lips twitched. Despite anything else, Granger was trying—and he knew, at times, she would be ready to hex him just as soon as trust him. But they would need to work together. She understood as well as he did what was at stake, and while his world had flipped on its end in preparation of the bonding ceremony, on the continent the news only grew more chaotic by the day.

The situation was unorthodox, but they would need to work on it. And just maybe, they might accomplish something.

"Hermione, is it?"

The first thing she noticed as she spun on the spot, eyes tightening on instinct, was that her name was drawled in accented English—Scandinavian, perhaps—and the second was that the possessor of the voice was remarkably attractive.

With rich, chocolate brown hair, and brilliant green eyes, the man before her eyed her as if he had a secret—about her. The square cut of his jaw twitched with amusement as his gaze swept the length of her before he reached for her hand, bringing it to his lips.

His head ducked into a slight bow as he dropped her hand. "My dear Lunae Amor. My name is—"

"Hugo," she commented dryly, retracting her hand. "I've heard about you."

Full lips pulled into a taunting smirk. "Is that true?" He dropped a shoulder into the wall of the corridor, leaning lazily between two massive portraits. "All good, I hope."

Allowing a soft smile to linger on her own lips, Hermione quipped, "I'm afraid I can't lie."

Far from offended, Hugo snickered. "The Lunae has an interesting sense of humour, does he not? My name is Hugo Bergen—Treasurer to the Council of the Nocturnus Order."

Fixing him with a tight stare, Hermione nodded. "Indeed."

Dropping some of the pretense, Hugo chuckled. "It is truly a pleasure to meet you."

"Even with my blood?" Her head dropped to the side with a tilt as she held his stare. "Or, perhaps, in spite of it."

She wasn't willing to let a pretentious worm like Hugo Bergen make her feel less than—she had been through too many years of prejudice for something like that to still matter. Especially not when she was about to wed his precious Lunae Ortus.

But he only smiled at her once more. "My opinions on blood matter naught here. You are to be the Lunae Amor—which means I will defend you with my life, should it be required of me. Much as I would for our Lunae."

Hermione blinked at him, startled at the overt statement of loyalty, before schooling her expression. "Then I suppose, Hugo Bergen, I see no reason why the two of us shouldn't get along."

"Except," Hugo retorted, brandishing a single finger, "for the fact that I'm told you disagreed with my suggestion of taking Draco out for a stag night prior to the bonding ceremony."

A surprised laugh burst from her lips; he was the first of the Nocturnus whom she'd heard refer to Malfoy as Draco rather than some variation of his formal title. "Is that what he told you? I encouraged it." Shaking her head, she added, "In fact, I insist. Drag him out if you must."

"You," he mused, lips quirking with humour once more, "are trouble. I see now why he was so vehement in selecting you as his Amor."

Not entirely certain what that was supposed to mean, she felt colour suffuse her cheeks. She blinked, out of sorts and startled, as Malfoy sidled up alongside.

"I can't say I care for the thought of you two skulking in the corridor," he said by way of greeting, though his stance was relaxed. "But I suppose introductions are no longer in order."

"No, Lunae," Hugo drawled, "we've become acquainted. And Hermione tells me she supports the idea of you going out after all."

Malfoy scowled. "I'm busy."

Hugo's eyes flashed. "Not that busy, surely."

Snickering, the blond glanced away for a moment before firing Hermione a look. "I told her I'd do a stag if she does a hen."

"That can be arranged," Hugo responded with a widening grin. "Leave it all to me."

Before either Hermione or Malfoy could say anything more, Hugo bustled off in the opposite direction. Gaping slightly, Hermione only shook her head. Malfoy lifted a brow, a frown on his lips as he turned towards her. "So that's Hugo."

"He's…" She swallowed, forcing a grimace. "Interesting."

Malfoy chuckled. "That's one word for it."

Turning the corridor towards the centrally located kitchens in the Manor, Draco released a sigh when he noticed Hugo walking with Theo and Blaise, the three of them making their way towards the kitchens ahead of him.

For a fleeting instant, he debated making a run for it, but he knew it would only make matters worse. His friends—and Hugo, who had yet to earn the designation—were convinced Draco needed to celebrate his last days of being single. Despite that his bride would be less of a wife and more of an adviser, and that Draco had the future of countries on his mind more so than the idea of getting sloshed on too much cheap whisky.

Beyond that, it had been a long time since he had spent time with his old friends, and with the way he had felt so frazzled with responsibilities ever since the Ascension, maybe it would be nice to escape for a while.

He found Granger already in the kitchens—she had taken to preparing her own snacks and sometimes meals on evenings when they hadn't planned for a formal dinner with Narcissa. It was something he couldn't begrudge her when she hadn't fussed over many of the things he'd expected, house-elves included. She appeared to be making casual conversation with Blaise and Theo, a coy smile on her face.

The woman would be the death of him—she was the most vocal about his need to go out for a stag night, second only to Hugo.

Which only meant he would make her hen night a pain in the arse.

As she noticed him, popping a grape between her lips, she paced forward. "I've been hearing all about your evening."

"Great," Draco muttered, helping himself to a slice of cheese from the plate she'd prepared. "I suppose it's going to be a wonderful time."

"It is," Theo retorted, folding his arms across his chest.

"It's supposed to be wonderful," Blaise interjected, "and you haven't given us proper time to plan, of course, but Hugo's got something sorted."

Hugo merely lifted his brows in a taunt; Draco was of half a mind to let the man go and find a new treasurer. But it would most likely annoy Hugo's father, and Elias Bergen was a genius in strategy and incredibly well connected. Draco had a feeling he would need him.

Relenting, his shoulders sunk as he leaned forward on the expansive island, picking at the snacks Granger had selected for herself. "So when are we supposedly leaving?"

"Twenty minutes," Hugo announced, then strode from the room.

Granger seemed in a better mood than he'd seen her since she moved into the Manor—some of the tension in her stance was beginning to dissolve, and even with his old Slytherin mates, she wore a smile. "You'll have fun; I'm sure of it."

"You," Draco breathed, quietly so only she could hear, "are going to regret encouraging this."

Lips twitching, she flashed him a stare. "Come on," she whispered, "you're about to tie yourself to me for the rest of your life in a little over a week."

Lifting a brow, he replied, "Good point."

When he looked back up, there was something unsettling in Blaise and Theo's faces as they exchanged a look.

"If you two are done canoodling," Theo stated, and Draco felt colour infuse his cheeks as he stood upright again, "you need to get ready."

Scowling, he folded his arms. "There's nothing wrong with what I'm wearing now."

Granger snickered; Theo and Blaise shared another look. "Fine," Blaise drawled. "Then let's go. It'll take ten minutes to walk to the bloody Apparition point in this place."

As she took a bite out of a slice of cucumber, Granger smiled. There was an irritating sparkle to her eyes as she said, "Have fun!"

Draco decided she was enjoying this altogether too much; with a frown, he skulked along after his mates, attempting to summon hope the night wouldn't be a complete drunken mess.

Hermione glanced up from her book at a distant noise; rubbing her eyes, she checked her watch. It was shortly past midnight. A loud thud sounded beyond the wall of her private quarters, and she set aside the book, startled.

"Malfoy?"

There was a heavy silence, during which she sat poised and alert, tuned in to listen for any further disturbances. The doorknob of the door that separated her sitting room from his fiddled awkwardly before the door swung open; Malfoy's face appeared in the gap, his eyes wide.

"Granger. Hi." He squinted at her for a moment; his hair was a bit disheveled, his tie askew as he dragged a hand down his face. "You're still awake."

Brandishing the book, she offered a thin smile. "Not for much longer, I don't think."

Malfoy snorted and pushed through the door. "What are you reading?" Uninvited, he took up the seat at the other end of the couch, peering closer at the book.

"I borrowed a few selections from the Manor's library, I hope you don't mind," she managed, dragging her bottom lip between her teeth.

Setting the book on the coffee table, he shook his head as he stifled a wide yawn. "That's what they're there for. I know better than to ask that you not damage the books." Barking out a laugh at the look on her face, he leaned back, interlocking his fingers behind his head.

"How was your stag party?" Her lips pulled into a teasing smile as he grimaced. "I thought you'd be out until the small hours of the night."

"If those other three had their way, I would have been." He shook his head, sweeping his fringe back. "It was fine—admittedly, more fun than I expected. But having three guards follow you around all night sort of puts a damper on things."

"They're always around, aren't they?" she asked, her voice quiet.

Malfoy stared at the far wall for a long moment. "The old Order was very powerful and outspoken. This, now… I'm told this is a shadow of the way things once were. In turn, they developed a lot of powerful, ancient enemies. Things happened back then that were never chronicled."

A shiver crept down her spine at the look in his eye when he glanced her way with a flippant shrug, belying the tension his words had incited. Trailing his fingers along the cover of the book she'd been reading, he added, "I wouldn't be the first Lunae Ortus to be assassinated. The Nocturnus guards take their oaths seriously. Of course…" He trailed off, and Hermione swallowed, her mouth dry. "It feels odd—to have stepped into the top position of an Order more ancient than I can even comprehend. Some of the advisers on the council remember the rule of my great-grandfather. There are so many layers of information beneath the surface, and there are things I'll never know. I feel as if I'm constantly second-guessing whether I've made the right decisions."

"It's astonishing," Hermione contributed lamely, her voice soft. "The depth of it all." A frisson of unease lingered beneath the surface of her skin. "You don't think it's still like that, do you? The way things were back then."

Malfoy shook his head. "With Avance?" He gave a low snort. "No. I don't think Avance knows what they're in for if they don't step down."

Even though his words were placating, Hermione couldn't keep the chill from settling into her bones. "I suppose not."

"Who knows, really, though," he murmured, a teasing smirk lingering on his lips as she stared into the depths of his eyes. "Dig deep enough… you never know what you might find hiding in the dark."

A harsh breath chased from her lips.

Rising to his feet, Malfoy cracked a grin. "I'll let you sleep. Have a nice night, Granger."

As she watched him retreat into his own quarters, her heart racing anxiously in her chest, she wondered whether sleep would come while the last of his words settled into a pit in her stomach.

Author's Note: Thank you so, so much for reading, and for the lovely reception to this little story so far! We're still just digging into things, and there's plenty to come! I'm hopeful you enjoyed the chapter!

Pre-reader squad hype to Kyonomiko, LadyKenz347, and ravenslight!