Chewing on the end of her quill, Hermione sorted through the piles of books they'd seized from the Alba stronghold before it had collapsed. According to a handful of guards who had returned to assess the situation, much of the basement had caved in and become inaccessible.

Malfoy had released a string of curses, swept a hand through his hair, and announced he needed to speak with the high mage.

Hermione, sensing he would require some time on his own, had ventured towards the castle library to begin dissecting the resources. In hindsight, she no longer felt any guilt over claiming the books when they likely would have been lost to history otherwise without the significant effort of removing the rubble and stone.

The problem was that the book she was the most keen to delve into—the ancient one with what they had surmised to be the symbol of Alba on the cover—was written in some dialect of Italian. She hoped Glenneth would be able to help but didn't care to bother him when she knew Malfoy had explicitly announced his intentions to speak with the mage. Perhaps Oro, the court scribe, could be of some help, but he had remained behind in England.

Deep in thought, Hermione glanced up, startled, when someone took the seat opposite her at her table. Half expecting it to be Malfoy, she slammed her mouth shut when she met the rich green eyes of Hugo Bergen.

"Hugo," she greeted, idly opening the cover of one of the other books—Italian as well. "What brings you here?"

His expression uncertain, he gave a one-shouldered shrug. "I thought maybe you could use a hand. And… I wanted to be sure the Lunae is alright."

Glancing at him, she said, "He is with the High Mage. I think he is as well as can be expected. And unless you can read Italian, you probably can't help me."

Hugo drew the tome with the sunrise on its cover towards himself, clicking his tongue several times in quick succession. "I cannot read Italian—but I know someone who does."

"Don't tell me it's another of your friends," she huffed, even as she recognised the necessity of reading the book's contents. "This is private, even among Nocturnus."

Hesitating for a moment, Hugo stared at her before returning the book. "It's my girlfriend Madeline. She studied in Italy for a year after we left Durmstrang."

"Oh." Twisting her lips to the side, she asked, "Is that where you two met?"

Hugo nodded, leaning back in his seat. "We started dating during our sixth year; now just past eight years together."

"Eight years," Hermione echoed, feeling curiosity spring up within her. "Draco said she attended his call for the Lunae Amor." When Hugo's expression fell stoic other than a hardness to his jaw, she asked, "Did that bother you?"

Hugo responded, "Of course it did."

"But you understood?"

Sighing, he fixed her with a long stare. "I did. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't relieved she wasn't selected. But if she had been… it's Nocturnus rule, and Nocturnus above all else when you grow up in it like we did. I would have done my duties to the best of my ability regardless."

Quietly, Hermione said, "I'm glad it worked out, then. For both of your sakes."

"Madeline didn't want to be the Lunae Amor," he said, idly drawing on a blank sheet of parchment with one of her quills. "She wanted to stay with me. But if she would have so much as mentioned it to her parents… I don't know what she said to the Lunae Ortus, but she was quite certain he wasn't going to choose her. Perhaps she downplayed herself. I don't know. But she is quite intelligent—I think you and she would get along."

Hermione offered a nod, considering his words. "I'll meet with her if she can help me decipher this text. It may prove useful." After another moment of silence, she added, "I have a friend who went to Durmstrang, but he would have been a few years ahead of you—Viktor Krum."

A roguish grin split Hugo's face. "I knew Viktor a little. Fantastic seeker."

"Did you play Quidditch?"

Canting his head back and forth, Hugo muttered, "I tried. I was never the greatest flier. I'm told the Lunae Ortus played seeker as well, at Hogwarts."

"He did," Hermione said, a vague smile drifting across her face to think back on it. "My best friend was the seeker for an opposing house, and they used to have an intense rivalry."

"It's interesting," Hugo mused, "to think of him in such a capacity. A student at school, playing Quidditch. When I was raised knowing his name—knowing I may one day serve him. And now I have such an opportunity."

Meeting his gaze, she leaned forward in her seat. "It's strange to me to hear you all speak of him with such reverence. I'm not sure how much you know, but Draco and I did not get along at Hogwarts. Although of course… you share those same views on blood purity."

Some of the companionable feel to the conversation dissipated as Hermione recalled her first impression of Hugo—that he had attempted to deter Malfoy from selecting her because of her blood status.

But he only waved a hand. "At Durmstrang, there was a great emphasis on blood purity. I may have been heavy handed in my initial judgement of you, but to hear the stories of your war in Great Britain… I cannot imagine being so blinded by something so inconsequential. It is readily apparent you are both brilliant and excellent with your magic—two things that matter far more than your lineage."

Taken aback, Hermione said quietly, "Thanks, Hugo."

He went on, glancing away. "I know the Lunae Ortus doesn't take me seriously. And I shouldn't expect him to, as I have not earned his respect." Expression hardening, he met her stare again. "But know that I hold my duties with the Order to the highest level—and I would not hesitate to give my life in your defense."

With a tight smile, she responded, "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

"In light of recent events…" Hugo flipped through one of the other books, trailing off. "It feels as if it needs to be said."

Feeling unease settle in the pit of her stomach at the recollection of the lost guard, she nodded, and a heavy silence fell over them. Hermione flinched when a hand grazed her shoulder and Malfoy dropped into the seat beside her.

He lifted a brow and stared between the two of them, before turning to Hermione. "Everything okay?"

"Yes," she said, gesturing at the books. "Madeline is going to help me with the Italian translations. Are you alright?"

With a hint of a grimace, he nodded. "I needed to ask Glenneth a few things about the affiliation." Turning towards Hugo, his brows lowered. "And you—" He offered a somewhat stilted smile and blew out a long breath. "Thank you—for getting me out of that basement. You acted faster than I could think."

Hugo ducked his head into a deep bow. Glancing between them, he said, "Aside from the fact that it is quite literally my job—it was my honour. I am only sorry things did not go as planned."

Hermione could see the calculating look in Malfoy's eye as he stared at Hugo for a long moment. Then, as if making some sort of a decision, he nodded. "As am I. I was lucky, in that moment, that I had you at my side."

His hand gripped her thigh beneath the table, and Hermione dropped her own on top, entwining their fingers.

Hugo's eyes looked a little glassy when he offered a wry smile in return. "I would do it again and again." Then he chuckled and added, "And might I say, you can shoot the moon from your hands, Lunae. It's the most badass thing I've ever seen."

Huffing a surprised laugh, Malfoy cracked a grin. "Let's hope I can figure out how to control it."

"So." Idly jotting a few things down on a sheet of parchment, Hermione turned towards Malfoy in the dim candlelight of the library. "What did Glenneth tell you about the affiliation?"

Malfoy was pensive for a moment, staring at the Italian book about Alba. "He couldn't tell me much. He was young during the rule of my great-grandfather, and he only knows what's been passed down from the last high mage. All he could say was that the affiliation is volatile—as we saw at the stronghold—and I need to learn control of it. But that once I do, it'll be powerful beyond all estimations."

Propping an elbow on the table, Hermione dropped her face into her hand. "Which explains why Cosette wants it."

"Cosette," he drawled, tone dripping with disdain, "can go to hell."

Snorting, Hermione glanced away. "Unfortunately, we need to deal with her in a more proactive manner than that." He gave her a sardonic grimace, and she added, "Hopefully this book contains something helpful. Hugo said Madeline would be here shortly."

Malfoy sighed, levelling her with a stare. "I'm not crazy about letting Madeline know anything more than what Hugo's already assuredly told her, especially after the other night. I'd like to keep this within the council… but if she's the only one who can help I suppose it's better than an outsider."

Recalling her conversation with Hugo earlier that day, Hermione said quietly, "The way Hugo speaks about her, she sounds lovely. Recreational proclivities aside."

Gazing thoughtfully at the table, he let out several long breaths before speaking; with bated breath, Hermione waited, sensing his hesitation. When he finally spoke, his voice was soft. "I am trusting your judgement in the situation as I have other business to attend to." He considered his words once more with a wince. "Something about Hugo's inconsistency bothers me. He claims he takes his role seriously, but he's late for council, he wants to throw parties… I can't figure out his angle. I need you to keep caution in your interactions with Madeline. Make sure you don't share too much about Cosette and the affiliation."

Thinking of the sincerity in Hugo's tone earlier, Hermione frowned. "He told me he would give his life to protect you—he pulled you out of the collapse the other day."

"I know," Malfoy said quickly. "And maybe it's nothing. Just… keep an eye on him."

Something about his dismissal of Hugo's intentions rubbed her the wrong way, and she shook her head. "No, I think you're misreading him. He wants you to trust him; he told me he wants to earn your respect."

"Then he needs to do things worthy of it," he growled. "Granger, I don't want to argue about this—"

"Then quit it," she ground out.

His eyes flashed as he scowled, folding his arms across his chest. "You can honestly tell me you trust him." His expression softened at her ire, and he said, "I don't mean to upset you—I just don't want him to take advantage of your trust. He strikes me as the sort that can pull strings to manipulate the situation to suit his own interests… and I can't allow that on the council."

"Luckily," she breathed, "we're both heads of the council. Equals, remember?"

"Granger," he groaned, "all I'm asking for is caution. Is that so much to ask?"

Releasing a long, rattling breath, Hermione pressed her eyes shut for a moment. When she blinked them open, the tension sank from her shoulders. "No. That isn't too much to ask. If you can try to give him a little benefit of the doubt."

Malfoy nodded, holding her gaze. "Okay. I can do that. Merlin, I can't have you angry at me on top of everything else."

The admission startled Hermione on many levels, and she softened, taking his hand into hers. "I'm sorry I got defensive. We need to be on the same side, now more than ever." With a sheepish grin, she added, "I guess it's habit."

Smirking, he dragged his thumb across the crescent marking on her wrist and whispered, "We'll just have to develop new habits."

"I think I like the sound of that," she teased, smiling. Energy raced through her at his touch, the bonding magic between them flaring to life, and she leaned in, his breath mingling with her own.

"Shit."

In an instant, Hermione recoiled to see the uncomfortable faces of Hugo and Madeline. Malfoy released her hand, turning to face them with a hint of irritation on his face.

"Sorry to interrupt," Hugo said, grimacing.

Madeline pressed her lips into a thin smile and said, "Hello, Lunae Ortus and Lunae Amor. Thank you for this honour to help."

"Absolutely." Gesturing to the other side of the table, Hermione waited while they both settled in. When Malfoy remained seated at her side, she turned to him. "What time do you have to go?"

Leaning back in his seat, he flashed her a smile before turning his focus on the Italian book. "As it turns out, this is the most important thing I could be doing right now."

Hermione stomped her heel into the top of his foot beneath the table.

Yawning widely, Draco skimmed the stack of notes from Madeline's translation. The book from the Alba stronghold had been written in an older dialect, so certain things she had been unsure of, but the notes largely made sense. After the first few pages, they had enchanted a self-inking quill to write down her translation, but it still took well into the night and a large portion of the next day to get through the thick tome.

Having grown tired of the hard chairs in the library, once the translation was complete they had thanked Hugo and Madeline and retreated to the Lunae quarters.

Granger lounged at his side in bed, her nose buried deep in one of the other books she had seized from the stronghold that was written in English. Stretching her arms out widely, she asked, "Anything?"

Rubbing at bleary eyes, Draco said, "I don't even know what I should be looking for. All of it could be important, or it could be useless. It's a history of Alba, and there are mentions of Nocturnus—but what's notable?"

Frowning, she dropped her head onto her shoulder to read the page he was on. "I understand what you mean. It's like trying to find something we don't know we're looking for. Can you do a magical keyword search? Lunar affiliation, or Lunae Ortus, or something like that?"

"Yeah," Draco muttered, reaching for his wand, "yeah, that might make more sense."

Casting the spell, and waiting for it to detect instances of certain words, he set the translation aside and turned towards Granger. "Anything in that one?"

Stifling a yawn, she said, "Nothing yet."

"Maybe we need to call it a night," Draco said, frowning. "We aren't getting very far with any of this half asleep."

"Sleep sounds good," Granger admitted, marking her place in the book and setting it on the bedside table, before placing the translation atop. With a wave of her wand, the lights in the room blinked out. Turning towards him, she asked, "Do you think they know we're here? In Italy?"

He said emphatically, "I hope not." Hesitating for a long moment, he added, "But I wouldn't be surprised. Never mind the fact that I destroyed one of their fortresses… they clearly have eyes and ears everywhere. Our presence here, guarded as we are in this castle, can't have gone wholly unnoticed. I just don't know if it makes me more or less uneasy that we haven't heard from them."

The last hints of dusk fell into the sky beyond the open balcony, and Draco watched the moon on its slow ascent to culmination, feeling the comfort of its energy seep into his soul. It soothed some of the worries and the unease, and he pulled Granger into his arms, pressing his lips into her wild curls.

"I don't know what to think about any of this," she said quietly. "I don't know who to trust, what to believe… what path do we follow?"

"Unfortunately," he drawled, "we don't have any of those answers."

Expression lost, she gazed out into the night sky, the earliest stars dotting the darkness with their vibrant points of light. Tucking closer into his side, she wound an arm around his abdomen, resting her face on his chest. "The most ironic part of this entire situation is that the only person I feel safe with is you."

With a low snort, he muttered, "I'm going to take that as a good thing."

A gentle smile curled her lips as she looked up at him. "Take it however you like."

"Here's what I know, Granger." Releasing a long, shuddering sigh, he dropped his voice. "One day, you and I are going to pull through all of this. I don't know how yet or what it's going to cost us… but we will. And then we'll look at our lives—married, wealthy, with the ability to do whatever we choose."

She drew in a tight breath against his chest, but he couldn't see her face.

"And… maybe one day you'll regret marrying me." He hesitated, falling silent for a moment. "I hope you don't—but let's face it. You might."

She gave a watery snicker.

"But if you don't…" Adjusting his hold on her, Draco felt a vague sort of tightness take hold in his chest. "Merlin, Granger, I'm going to show you the life you deserved to have—even though it would have been with someone other than me." Despair hung heavy on his heart, and for a moment, Draco couldn't remember how it felt to be happy and unconcerned with life.

Granger remained uncharacteristically silent, and he wondered whether his words had struck a chord—if she had perhaps already wondered what her life could have been like had she not chained herself to him.

Loosening his grip, he leaned back against the headboard. "I regret dragging you into all of this."

"Except," she whispered, with a sniffle, "you didn't." Extracting herself from his hold, she sat up alongside him, her eyes glassy. "I knew what I was getting myself into—well, not all of this, here. But a life with you. I bonded with you because it was what we needed to do… but Draco, I haven't needed to do all the rest of it."

Her face rolled along the headboard and the depth of fierce determination in her watery stare drew him in. "You didn't drag me a single step of the way—and you aren't about to start."

The falling darkness of the room cast half of her in shadow, and a breath chased from his lungs.

"And you and I, Draco Malfoy," she breathed, "are going to put Alba and Avance and all the rest of them back in the hole they came from—because no one is going to underestimate us."

A chill crept down his spine at her words, and he drew her towards him, her lips crashing into his. Moisture broke from her eyes and against his cheeks as he kissed her with a sort of reverent desperation, his hands sweeping her sides and tugging her shirt over her head.

Panting, Granger shifted to straddle his lap, grinding down against him, her eyes full of something he wouldn't dare name. As her hands dropped to his trousers, she breathed against his mouth, "We're going to have that life. And anyone who tries to stand in our way…" Kissing him again and dragging her fingers along his cheekbones, she said in little more than an exhale, "They're going to be the ones who regret it."

Author's Note: I hope, so much, that you're all keeping safe and well. And I hope you're enjoying the story. Thanks for reading!

Alpha and beta hearts to my loves Kyonomiko, LadyKenz347, and ravenslight.