Fletcher and his herd stood in wait, just inside the fringes of the forest, when they arrived. Draco strode forth, Granger at his side, while the extensive team of Nocturnus guards stood farther back in an effort to avoid alarming the centaurs.

Clapping Draco on the shoulder, Fletcher ducked his chin into a bow. "Thank you for returning, my friend." His sister Willow nodded alongside, her face cold.

"The Nocturnus advisers have looked further into potential locations," Granger explained, "and we can assume that either or both may be the sites where your friends and family are being held."

Blue eyes shining, Fletcher said, "It is a good day when humans care for the interests of centaurs."

Swallowing, Draco murmured, "Come on. It's a long way from here on foot. We've brought a large force, and in the interests of catching the captors off guard, we will storm both locations at once."

Fletcher nodded, calling forth his herd. They numbered approximately two dozen, and when Draco recalled that they had left England with nearly twice that, his determination redoubled. He had given strict directions to Dagomir, who would lead his half of the guard towards one of the fortresses while Draco would storm the other with Granger.

The herd was well equipped with bows and knives, but in magical combat, they could find themselves lacking. In an instant, he reminded himself of the centaurs' practiced skills in long-range archery.

He could only hope the captors in charge of holding the imprisoned centaurs were not fighters.

Willow took one half of the herd with Dagomir while Fletcher approached Draco's other side, shoulders back and head held high. Since the centaurs were unable to Apparate and Draco had no interest in insulting them by leaving them out of the rescue efforts, they would approach the fortress on foot. Granger cast an impressive series of stealth wards to shield their approach from anyone who might have been watching.

While Draco was uncertain whether Granger's love for magical creatures was rubbing off on him, he couldn't stand the thought that the shifts in Arcand's anti-creature policy meant it was alright for humans to capture sentient beings and harvest them of their components. He dreaded the thought that the kidnapped centaurs might not be okay and had to hope that the humans had needed to keep them alive.

Fletcher and Granger made casual conversation as they walked, and Draco listened in, but his thoughts were elsewhere.

Would the anti-creature advocates retaliate? Would Arcand do something even worse? While Elias Bergen had urged him to act decisively with regards to Arcand and Draco didn't regret working with the centaurs to rescue the rest of their herd, he still felt as if he were taunting the beast.

And while he had an impressive team of trained guards at his back, they still didn't know anything of the depth of Avance's power. Were they working with the long-hidden Italian society, Alba? Was he continuing to underestimate the forces at play?

Unease and a lack of knowledge caused a churning in the pit of Draco's stomach, and an hour after they'd left the forest, Granger halted at his side.

The fortress was before them, and while a few guards lingered around the exterior, a quick revealing spell indicated only a handful of workers within. Researchers, most likely. Draco's lip curled in revulsion, and without hesitation, he set his guards forth to stun those parading the perimeter, unsuspecting of the impending onslaught.

Fletcher followed closely behind the guards, nocking an arrow in his bow with swift precision.

Draco called from behind him, "Unless you have no option—leave the people inside alive. They are most likely acting upon orders."

With a nod, Fletcher called forward the rest of his pack, and they ventured forth alongside the guards. Draco grimaced, hesitating at Granger's side.

Her voice was soft. "What are you thinking?"

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he shook his head slowly. A series of loud crashes came from within, but all the French guards were stunned, and within moments shouts filtered to the outside. He mused, "I'm trying to sort through all of this. Why the creatures? What other motivations does Arcand have? If Cosette wants to kill me, why has she bothered with anything else?"

Her gaze fixed on the fortress ahead, Granger shrugged. "They can't have made it look like an outright assassination attempt. Remember, you wouldn't have Ascended if you knew what Cosette was up to."

Lifting one hand, he said, "Captured centaurs, displaced vampires, a citizen's uprising." Then he lifted the other and added, "An ancient Italian society out for blood."

"You're right," she said, reaching for one of his hands. "It doesn't make any sense. But what we are doing right now makes sense to us." Her eyes sparkled as she looked up to see centaurs retreating from the fortress. "We don't know about Cosette's motivations, but for whatever reason—likely to do with the lunar affiliation not yet at its full potential—she's hesitating. We have to keep on our path and be ready to deviate when necessary."

As he watched, Draco saw Fletcher approach a young female centaur with crimson hair down to the middle of her back, before drawing her into a tight embrace. His chest tightened when he noticed, some distance behind, an older male centaur—looking roughed up and worse for wear, his hair shorn in patches and limping on one of his legs—walk free from the fortress.

Granger breathed, "Firenze."

"Can you send a Patronus to Dagomir?" Draco had never learned how to produce his own and didn't know whether he even could, due to the scarred Mark on his arm.

Chewing on her bottom lip, she nodded before sending a message with her fluttery pale otter.

Fierce determination sat in Fletcher's stare when he approached swiftly and drew Draco into an embrace, then Granger. Moisture shone at his eyes and he breathed, "Thank you, my friends, for your help."

Firenze looked bedraggled and confused, but he clapped Draco on the back as well, and Draco thought he heard Granger sniffle. Nodding, Draco said, "Of course. Shall we send along some healers to tend to your wounded?"

Granger clicked her tongue, and for an instant, Draco considered that the request might have been offensive, but Fletcher chuckled. "We may not wield wands, Lunae, but we have healers of our own." Then he bowed his head, deeply, and the others followed suit. "Consider us in your debt, Lunae Ortus of the Nocturnus Order."

Even though his life was crumbling all around him, Draco found himself in good spirits when they returned to England once more. While it may not have been Arcand himself spearheading the capture of centaurs, it was his policy that had allowed for such a thing to happen in the first place.

Not only had they assisted Fletcher in recovering his herd—because the other extraction had been likewise successful—Nocturnus had made a loud and decisive statement that they weren't going to sit idly by and watch marginalised populations be mistreated. Just because Arcand was on an anti-creature rampage it didn't mean there would be no one to check his power, even if there was too much bureaucratic red tape for the British Ministry to act.

It was a small step, to be certain, but after a continuous string of bad news, it felt good to have something go right for once.

With a spring in his step, Draco made his way towards the owlery to pick up any mail he had missed while abroad.

But when he rounded the corner into the Nocturnus Wing, he came to a dead stop. Granger stood with Hugo, and their matching expressions of trepidation chased the elation from him with cold dread to his heart. Hugo's eyes snapped to his approach, and moments later, Draco realised the man held a letter.

Clenching her jaw, Granger turned to face him. "We've had mail."

"Looks like bad news," Draco drawled, appraising the pair of them as he reached for the scroll. "Has someone died?"

Without waiting for an answer, he unrolled the parchment, eyes skating rapidly across the page. An uncomfortable lump formed in his throat; he read the missive again.

"This is… a summons?"

Confused, Draco looked to Granger. She nodded, worrying her lip. "Our actions in France have triggered an inquiry with the Wizengamot, or so it appears. We've been called to speak for our actions in a foreign country. And if we take any further actions in France… the Ministry will take proactive counter-measures."

"Bollocks," Draco snapped, turning to Hugo, who was exceedingly pale. "Nocturnus has always operated outside the reach of organised governments. It's the reason we're able to address these issues when the Ministry is unwilling or unable."

"You're right," Hugo said with a grimace. "Legally, your Wizengamot has no power to control the actions of the Nocturnus Order. There is no modern precedent for anything we're trying to achieve." From his lingering hesitation, Draco sensed more to the statement. Hugo lifted an unimpressed brow. "But what they can do is drown us in red tape and make their best efforts at stalling our progress."

"But why?" Draco ground through his teeth, waving the letter with an increasing sense of ire. "Why do any of this at all? We are actively working to prevent war within France with a wider effort at prevention across Europe. If anything, the Ministry should be pleased that we're stepping up to take care of what they are not."

"What this letter implies," Granger said, exchanging a glance with Hugo, "is Cosette got to Shacklebolt."

Sneering, Hugo added, "Your Ministry is running scared because Avance has frightened them."

"Which means Avance is trying to shut us down." Frowning, Draco crumpled the letter into a ball in his fist. "If they're trying to stall us out by any means necessary. It certainly doesn't help matters any by having the Ministry dragging us back. And this summons… what a bloody waste of time. They can't do anything."

A hint of a smile crossed Hugo's features, and he stared between them. "And yet… it means we're doing something right."

A full moon shone high in the sky, and without having to think twice, Hermione ventured through Malfoy's personal quarters and up the spiral staircase to his rooftop hideout. This time, she felt the shimmering of his protective wards and smiled when she found him laid out flat on the roof, his eyes pressed shut.

A late spring warmth hung on the air, despite the late hour, and she sat on the mild slope beside him, folding her legs beneath her as she propped her hands back to gaze up at the moon. Even though she hadn't been able to call forth the lunar affiliation in the same way Malfoy could, she felt a connection with the moon she'd never experienced before. Something rejuvenating—empowering. It sent a tingle down her spine and brought to life the magic of the bonds from its dormancy in her veins.

Malfoy cracked one eye open at her presence, and his chest sunk with a long exhale. Drowsily, he murmured, "Hi."

Keeping her gaze fixed on the moon, she responded with a quiet, "Hello." After another silent moment she added, "I hope you don't mind me joining you here."

"I don't mind." His eyes fell shut again, as if he were asleep. But he trailed his fingers along her knee closest to him and smiled. "It feels good—being out here."

"With the full moon," Hermione surmised. At his hummed agreement, she mused, "It's been one lunar cycle since we were bonded. And it's felt like…"

"A long time," he stated, eyes opening again. "It's felt like so much longer."

"A lot has happened."

Sitting up alongside her, he lifted a hand. "Look at this." As she watched, the white light of the moon accumulated above his extended palm, quickly building to beyond the tips of his fingers. A breath hitched in his throat, and he added, "It's easier during the full moon."

"That makes sense." Peering closer at the magic, she could see the individual shimmers like iridescent stars; she swiped a hesitant finger through the accumulation of magic. Malfoy flinched, recoiling his hand, but the affiliation was cool to the touch. A few of the sparkles lingered on the tip of her finger, and she brought the hand closer to her own face.

Though his expression was pensive, he offered the affiliation towards her. Trailing her fingers along the edge of it, Hermione smiled when her own hand shined with the white magic where she touched it. She rotated her hand and pressed it to the top of the sphere of magic, and a swath of it drew away.

She could feel the shimmers hover above her skin, cool and enticing, and she held it between both hands.

Malfoy flashed her a grin, and with a flourish of his hand, some of the magic released, fluttering into the night sky. "I wonder," he mused, breaking the easy silence of their experimentation, "how much the intent plays a role. Because it looks so innocuous."

Biting down on his bottom lip in thought, he aimed his hand towards a distant patch of the roof and projected the magic; the affiliation collided with the roof in a small explosion, and Hermione flinched. He rose to his feet and walked along the roof to check out the damage. Hesitant, she followed and gaped upon realizing he had blown a small hole into the room below. His grin was contagious, however, and she found herself laughing while he smoothed the damage over with sparkling fingers.

Staring at the patch, which once again looked fully intact, Hermione blew out a breath as they resumed their seats. "Intent indeed."

He pressed his hands together until the affiliation clung to both hands, and with a slow, crooked grin, he planted his hands to either side of her face. Her bright laugh chased into the air between them, and in the dark of the night, she could vaguely see the shimmer on her cheeks before it slowly faded away.

With a grin, Hermione took hold of his hands, collecting a dusting of magic along her fingers before dragging it through the stubble on his jaw. Snickering, he buried his hands into her curls, and they sparkled with iridescent light.

"Who says we can't have fun sometimes," he breathed, staring at her; the grey in his eyes illuminated from within with the silver of the moon.

Breathless and heart racing, Hermione ducked in, the lunar magic mingling with the magic of their bonds—and something else entirely—when she pressed her lips to his. For as natural as his touch had come to be, the feel of his kiss set alight something deeper within her as he kissed her back, hands cradling the sides of her head. She could feel the tug of a smile on his lips against hers and drew him closer, tracing the seam of his lips with her tongue.

Malfoy deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing against hers, and a heated tightness settled in her core when he dragged her closer, one hand sweeping down her side. Shifting her so she laid back on the roof, he planted a trail of kisses along the curve of her jaw, and when he caught her earlobe between his teeth she arched towards him, a whimper escaping her throat.

Pulling him closer still, she kissed him again, a heated fervour growing in the contact as she wound her foot around his calf; propped above her, his lips ghosted the sensitive skin of her throat, sucking at her neck and collarbone.

Her magic raced through her and danced with his, spurring her onwards as she fumbled for the collar of his shirt, and he groaned against her throat as he pressed against her, igniting a desirous longing in her core. Sweeping her hair aside, he continued his meticulous efforts down her neck, tugging the fabric of her jumper aside so he could reach the smooth skin of her shoulder.

Dragging her hands down his back, his arms, and drawing him still closer, Hermione groaned when his other hand slipped beneath her jumper, his fingertips trailing up her ribcage and beneath the fabric of her bra to palm one of her breasts.

Breaths mingling, he kissed her again, his thumb sweeping the sensitive peak of her nipple, and she nipped his bottom lip, clutching a hand to his arse as he pressed himself against her. With another lingering kiss, he drew back, eyes dark when they met hers. Even as he withdrew his hand from beneath her jumper, his lips curled with a smirk. Against her cheek, he muttered, "We're on the bloody roof."

"Yes," Hermione managed, her heart racing and chest heaving with the effort of drawing breath; her head spun from awareness of him.

Nuzzling her jaw, Malfoy went on. "It isn't ideal." Dragging his tongue along her neck, he added, "I'm surprised you haven't lectured me on the hazards of ravishing you on the roof."

"Now that you mention it," she whispered, pulling his mouth to hers again, "it's awfully unsafe."

Deepening the kiss again, slower and more meticulous, as if he were savouring her, he murmured against her mouth, "I cannot put your life at risk. The contract and all."

Grinding into him as he slipped a hand beneath her arse, she whispered, "We'll have to wait, then." Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared at him for a long moment, the magic of the bonds reaching for him. Sweeping his fringe back from his eyes, Hermione smiled up at him.

A returning smile played about his lips when he drew her into one last kiss, a barely there press of the lips as he moved her into his arms. While her magic settled within her veins, Hermione sunk into his warmth; entwining her legs with his, and with a semblance of peace she hadn't felt in a long while, she allowed her eyes to fall shut.

Author's Note: Hello, and thank you all for reading! I hope you're all keeping healthy and safe. Your lovely comments are certainly keeping me going these days, so thank you!

Alpha and beta squad hugs to Kyonomiko, LadyKenz347, and ravenslight.