As the days passed, little by little, Draco felt his magic return to him. It wasn't without hard effort, and he often pushed himself to the point of fatigue, but the results were worth the strain. Every night, Hermione focused her intentions with the affiliation into his magical core, but still Draco couldn't draw forth the affiliation.
He wondered whether he would ever regain that.
Because while Hermione had discovered her power over it through the connection and the bond between them, the situation now was different.
He couldn't help but dwell on the idea that both Cosette and Elias had split his former affiliation magic; he didn't know whether it meant they both had half of its power, or if they'd each harnessed it fully as their own. For all they had learned, so many questions remained unanswered.
Draco had seen that part of himself utterly stripped away, nearly taking the rest of his magic—and, indeed, his life force—with it.
He was doing his best to keep his expectations low since it felt like a miracle that he could even perform simple magic with his wand at all, but he couldn't help the spark of hope each time he tried.
Once his wager with Dagomir had come to fruition, he hadn't asked to venture out on another patrol, but in an effort to distract himself from everything else, Draco had taken to spending his days in the guards' lodgings to assist in any way he could.
The game had changed now that Cynthia was in their corner.
While Draco had been hesitant to fully trust her, she knew the situation now, and if she'd wanted them dead and betrayed them, they likely would have heard something by now. But there was no way to fake compliance with the Lunae command, as he had recognised upon meeting her.
Hugo had been ecstatic at a chance to see his sister, and he'd arranged to go on an excursion with Ben several days later. Although it was dangerous for her to work as an inside operative—and he could see the tension in both men when they returned—it was the best shot they had at learning about Avance from inside.
A hint of a smirk tugged at his lips at the bitter irony of Elias Bergen's daughter turning on him after everything he'd done.
And while Draco typically tried not to think ill of anyone—lessons hard learned from the last war he'd been involved in—he couldn't help but add Bergen to the short list, just below Cosette.
"Any news?" he asked as he strode briskly into the barracks, meeting Ben's stare as he hovered over the war table.
The man folded his arms as he shook his head. "Nothing today. Our infiltration patrols are beyond these borders." He tapped several spots on the map. "Whatever Avance is planning, they're still keeping a low profile."
Draco couldn't help the creeping thought that, just maybe, Avance was out of plans.
They'd taken what they wanted, and maybe now they were content to bask in the crumbling ruin of the Nocturnus Order.
"Anything on Glenneth?"
Ben frowned, staring down at the map. "According to Cyn, Avance is keeping Glenneth like little more than a criminal in fear that he'll break free of the thrall they're keeping him in. It's like the Imperius curse but stronger—you saw him at the battle in Italy. His magic is very strong but not enough to overthrow this."
For a moment, Draco caught Ben's stare, silence thick with words unspoken.
At last Draco spoke. "You know what we need to do, right?"
"We need Glenneth." Ben sighed, pacing around the table. "It isn't that simple. From everything Cynthia's told us, he's kept under constant guard, deep within the castle. Nocturnus won't be able to simply walk in."
"Then we need a plan," he went on, dragging a hand along the back of his neck. "If we can recover Glenneth, they can't chokehold our magic."
He didn't bother mentioning the fact that they would still be up against two people in possession of the lunar affiliation. But Glenneth had blocked that before, too.
Dagomir walked up, eyeing the two of them. "It's a ridiculous idea."
A smirk slipped across Draco's face as he met the man's eyes. "Of course it is."
Sighing, he shook his head. "But it is, of course, something we need to do before we expect to unseat Cosette and Elias from our castle."
The smirk widened into a grin.
As the one who had been designated to meet with Cynthia during her patrols, Ben shook his head. "I'll make sure we learn as much as we can about the situation. And then… we'll see about coming up with a plan."
"The other alternative," Draco murmured, gazing down at the map of the castle, "is that we simply learn how to negate the spell. I doubt it would be as simple as taking out Tressel—one thing they aren't is stupid, and they'll have learned from the last time."
"I like that better," Dagomir said, caution underlying his tone, "because we'll be able to keep our element of surprise longer. Then when we attack…"
"We reclaim our mage." Draco met his stare.
Ben huffed a loud exhale. "All well and good, Lunae, but how?"
The anticipation dissipated from Draco into the air like mist. "Not a bloody clue."
Draco had left his mother in charge of the oath-taking ceremony they were planning for their friends and other allies, knowing he wouldn't be disappointed.
As he walked onto the grounds in the area she'd prepared, he was right.
Narcissa had been pleased for something to do, and she'd enlisted Andromeda during her frequent visits as an assistant.
The gardens had been arranged similarly to the way the Manor had been during the bonding ceremony, and Draco felt a homesick pang at the thought of what the Manor had become. They still hadn't taken the risk of returning to England, and Potter's assessment was decidedly more vague than Draco would have liked.
The flowers were in full bloom along the path, small fairy lights hung in the air casting a warm hazy glow, and above him only a few wisps of cloud obscured the full brightness of the moon before drifting lazily past.
A large tent was set up to one side with a small assortment of tables and a long buffet table along one wall for one of Podski's infamous spreads.
Hermione and Hugo had spent hours tweaking the oaths so they would be just right to fit the situation. The night carried heavy significance, in that no one had been welcomed into the Nocturnus Order in centuries.
In true Nocturnus fashion, the ceremony would take place at midnight beneath a full moon. It felt reminiscent of both prior Nocturnus ceremonies Draco had been a part of, but yet wholly different.
At his Ascension he'd been alone, stepping into a seat of power that he'd yet to realise the depth of. The thought was oddly sobering—if he had known what was coming, would he have been so keen on the idea when his mother suggested it?
And during the bonding ceremony, Draco had only begun to feel the connection with Hermione that now encompassed their existence together. They'd been light on trust but heavy on hope, and he liked to think that trust had deepened tenfold over the short months since they'd been married on that clear night. That night, thousands had stood in watch.
Draco still had hope, even through everything. Hope that they would prevail in the end, despite the odds. A hope that was only bolstered by his love and trust for Hermione.
Tonight would be a celebration.
The Nocturnus Order was no longer large and powerful; no more was their assorted company characterised by the shine and glamour of an ancient magical civilisation with millennia of tradition behind it. But they were dedicated and focused, and those who remained fought out of more than obligation.
The small group was driven by a belief in Nocturnus. It was humbling to recognise that they believed in him and Hermione to lead them to the other side of the situation.
More than anything, Draco found his belief stemming from those surrounding him.
As he lingered in the tent, Podski popped in and began preparing the buffet; when Draco walked too close to peer at the food, the little elf fired him a look, and he made his way back outside.
With a little over an hour until the ceremony, guards and council mingled in the gardens, and Draco smiled as Hermione came up alongside him.
They'd opted not to wear full Nocturnus regalia but their battle leathers in recognition of the reality of what was at stake in the days and weeks to come. Even so, she was stunning, her sparkling silver coronet perched atop an intricate plaited hairstyle.
"You look beautiful, my Lunae Amor," he mused, planting a kiss to her temple as he drew her briefly into his chest.
"And you," she breathed in return when he drew back, "are regal as ever."
His lips pulled into a smile. "We haven't had anything to celebrate in a while. Our numbers may be small—smaller than can reasonably make a difference against so many—but we have belief."
"That we do," she said, slipping her hand into his. She cast a surreptitious stare towards the tent. "Shall we see what Podski's prepared?"
Draco chuckled, shaking his head. "I was just not-so-subtly directed away from the food."
The chocolate in Hermione's eyes sparkled with the light of the moon, and he realised she almost appeared to shine from within; he wondered whether it was the influence of the affiliation whirring in her veins. "I imagine if we ask nicely."
Scoffing, he followed as she ventured back towards the tent. "If you ask nicely, you mean. Podski would do anything for you."
She only flashed him a teasing smile.
"Theo!" Hermione exclaimed when they ventured back outside after picking at some of Podski's latest creations. "Blaise! It's wonderful to see you both."
Draco turned to his best mates with a grin, clapping each on the shoulder. A surge of hope built in her chest as Hermione looked out to see several others milling about in conversation; towards the far edge of the gardens, she could see Hugo and Madeline with the Arcands. Shortly beyond, Narcissa and Andromeda visited with several guards.
They caught sight of Dagomir, and the man offered a rare grin, ducking his head into a nod. Dagomir had dressed in his Nocturnus best for the occasion, his thick hair and beard groomed as he sidled over.
He wore a pleased expression she'd never seen on his face before, and a hint of curiosity nudged at her below the surface.
But she glanced away when Harry and Daphne walked over, enveloping each into an embrace in turn and holding onto Harry for a long beat. She felt a welling of emotion building within her at the thought that their friends had come to support them, underdogs though they were.
Her eyes stung as she pulled away, but to her surprise Harry turned to face Theo and Blaise.
"Well, Potter?" Theo asked, the question in his words sparking Hermione's curiosity.
"Any minute now," Harry returned, rocking on his heels.
Draco frowned, looking between the small group. "What are you two going on about?"
"What?" Theo drawled, a smirk dragging across his features, "Didn't Dagomir tell you we have some other friends coming?"
Startled, Hermione exchanged a glance with Draco. Dagomir still looked inordinately pleased with himself—for a man typically so serious—and yet nothing made sense. She frowned at Harry, cocking a brow.
"You invited us here to offer us protection from the Nocturnus Order," Harry said quietly, his green eyes searching out her own. "But we've come to show our support for you. Both of you."
"And before you tie your knot in a wand over the wards," Theo drawled, fixing Draco with a stern look, "Dagomir's been involved the whole time, and he's vetted everyone."
Draco sucked on his teeth, his eyes squinted. "Who is everyone?" He fired Dagomir a scowl. "And will someone tell us what's going on?"
Dagomir only announced, "You will find out soon."
It was already half an hour until the ceremony was due to begin, and while they hadn't prepared anything overly formal—it was more of an excuse to celebrate with their friends than anything—it felt symbolic that it should occur at midnight.
In a strange way, it felt like a chance to make up for the fact that their friends hadn't been in attendance that night.
Hermione entwined her hand with Draco's, feeling her magic course and twist with his, much stronger than it had been even a week ago. The mark on her own wrist revelled in the deepening of the bond between them once more. His touch soothed the spike of unease that chased through her.
But before she could think too long on it she froze, a breath catching in her throat as a Portkey materialised a short distance away.
Then another. And a third. Three more Portkeys arrived—six in total—and for a moment Hermione's heart missed a beat.
Almost instantly, her eyes stung with tears.
Kingsley Shacklebolt held his own rusted fork Portkey, accompanied by Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood, and Pansy Parkinson.
Her eyes slid to the side, Draco's hand clenching hers like a vice as she took in friends and former classmates materialising on the grounds. People they knew and trusted and loved.
By the time Hermione caught the blue stare of George Weasley, her eyes were so blurred she could hardly tell one Weasley-ginger head from the next: Ron and Charlie and Bill. Dean and Seamus. She had no words, the emotions welling in her chest and throat stemming her comprehension until she remembered Harry's words. We've come to show our support.
"Draco," she gasped at last, swiping furiously at her eyes, "I can't believe this."
At her side, he appeared to be lost for words, a heavy furrow in his brow and a glassy sheen to his eyes.
Harry walked up on her other side, coiling his fingers around her shoulder. "We know how difficult it's been for the two of you to ask for help. But the people who know you both the best have your back. Your friends are here with you."
With a stuttering nod, Draco reached an arm around her to clap Harry on the back as he ground out a quiet, "Thanks, Potter."
Hermione shook her head, bewildered, and sought out Harry's bright stare before sneaking an arm around his back, pulling him close as she whispered, "Thank you, Harry."
Within moments, a great anticipatory buzz went up in the gardens, and Hermione found herself pulled into embraces and conversations with old friends who, quite suddenly, were allies. She couldn't manage the swelling of emotion pouring through her, magic sparkling across her skin and dancing along her fingers.
A wealth of happiness raced through her heart when she found herself within a small group of Weasleys, including Ron, who gave her a bit of a begrudging hug and muttered, "You've always been there for me, Hermione. We're here now."
But in the back of her mind she couldn't help but wonder if everyone knew what they were signing up for. Nocturnus wasn't the powerful order it had been even a month prior, and they were staring down the lines of a very one-sided battle in the not so distant future.
Although they wouldn't be diving into that fight without significant preparations. And it was reassuring to know that she had friends alongside.
When she finally caught up with Dagomir, observing the chaos from a distance with what looked like a bottle of pumpkin juice, she didn't hesitate as she dragged him into a tight hug. Drawing back, she met the man's hazel eyes with a quiet, "Thank you, my friend."
"It was my pleasure, Miss Amor," he said, voice thick as he nodded. "But it was your friends who came up with the idea." A roguish grin swept across his face. "I only made sure no traitors came through the wards."
Hermione wasn't sure she wanted to know what the wards would have done to someone whose intentions weren't pure, but she smiled all the same. "Draco and I appreciate everything you've done for us." Before he could speak, to diminish his efforts as he was prone to do, she added, "And I know it's been more than is necessary of you."
His eyes shone before he ducked his head. "Thank you, Lunae Amor."
"One day," she chuckled, "you're going to call me Hermione."
Dagomir looked mockingly affronted at the words, but then a wry grin crawled across his face again, and he announced, "It is nearly midnight. Shall we begin?"
Across the gardens, she found Draco's gaze, sparkling with warmth. She turned back to Dagomir with a quiet, "We shall."
Although a few of the more magically-inclined guards had been training, their council glaringly lacked a high mage. Draco had requested Hugo perform the honours of hosting the oath-taking ceremony, and he had been happy to oblige.
Once everyone had offered their greetings and settled down, Draco had dragged Hermione to the front of the gardens where Hugo had prepared a sort of floral altar; as far as Draco knew, it was simply for appearance and had no bearing on the oaths, but it looked nice all the same.
"Thanks for coming," he announced, feeling a little uncomfortable as the group turned towards him, many of whom were former Gryffindors. Taking a deep breath, he squared his shoulders. "Hermione and I are grateful to see every one of you; it's been a tumultuous few months, and it's been easy to forget we have so many friends still willing to look out for us."
Her fingers laced with his as she smiled out at the gathered crowd. Guards, council, and friends.
"It isn't our intention to lead anyone into a dangerous battle," Draco went on, hesitating, "but unfortunately that is what looms in our future. We won't hold it against anyone who decides to leave now."
No one moved. Forcing his lips into a grimace to contain the emotion that had threatened to overtake him ever since the Portkeys had arrived, he nodded.
Hermione spoke, recognising his need for a moment. "As you become members of the Nocturnus Order, we vow to protect each of you to the best of our ability. It's an exchange of loyalty for loyalty; we're honoured to have each of you here with us tonight." Her voice wavered a little towards the end, but her head remained high, her coronet glistening with the silver of the moon above.
Draco managed a smile before turning back to face the group. "Our chief adviser Hugo Bergen will be performing the oath-taking ceremony tonight, and I've asked him to trim out the old pretentious wording so it doesn't take all night." A quiet chuckle went up, and he offered a smirk. "And welcome, each of you… to the new Nocturnus Order."
The darkness of Hermione's eyes shone with excitement when they met his.
The excitement of the evening finally caught up with Draco hours after the ceremony wrapped up and fatigue began to settle in.
He still couldn't quite believe their friends had conspired behind their backs to invite others into the fray. And while he might have been nervous about the thought of allowing another potential traitor into the ranks, he knew that each person who was in attendance was someone either he or Granger knew and trusted.
Besides the fact that he knew how strict Dagomir would have been with vetting anyone new.
Podski had been thrilled with the additional company and had spent half the evening preparing more food, much to everyone's pleasure, and the drinks Hugo had brought in from the local village had poured steadily all night.
But Draco's social quota was all used up, and at half past two he crept from the gathering, feeling the moon call to some faint and unused part of him. He'd transfigured a rope into a ladder a few days prior, and though it took a couple tries, he'd managed a sticking charm to secure it to the back of one wing of the villa.
It wasn't fancy, but it worked. The sentiment summed up just about every aspect of their modified version of the Nocturnus Order but for one detail he hadn't expected: there was something joyful about working towards a cause.
When he had Ascended, everything had been coordinated and arranged for him; the bonding ceremony had been prepared by mages and handmaidens and advisers.
But now… everything they were working towards was of their own volition. The small council that remained and the guards who diligently patrolled the grounds near the Nocturnus Castle day in and day out.
Everyone now had their purpose, and each of them believed in the idea of Nocturnus growing stronger once again. Of taking back what was theirs.
And Draco liked to think with a fresh beginning could come a fresh Nocturnus. The thought itself was embodied by the idea of all the people who had taken oaths to support the Nocturnus Order that very night, regardless of blood or status.
Maybe this was how the Order ought to have been all along. A small, quiet part of him suggested that maybe this was how Nocturnus was born in the first place.
The Order had been formal and efficient but cold. And now… he could feel the wild churning of life and purpose below the surface, and he harboured a secret hope that it just might be enough to carry them through all of this.
Quietly, he ascended the rope ladder to the roof of the villa, settling along the angled roof so that he could gaze down upon the revelry still rampant below.
The last he had seen of Hermione, she was gathered with a group of friends and former classmates, and he hadn't wanted to intrude. But with the power of the moon, he could vaguely feel the pulsing of the bond between them, and that too felt like the return of an old friend.
He grazed his crescent marking with his thumb, feeling the echo of her magic in kind, and a smile dragged across his lips. As he leaned back, letting his eyes flutter shut with exhaustion, he could feel the gentle prod of the moon.
Hermione was insistent he could learn control of the affiliation again, and he appreciated her optimism. But the magic had been wrenched from within him, and it was different from her being able to draw the affiliation from their bond.
Even so, he couldn't help the shred of hope that had grown forth at the idea, like one of his mother's flowers that she'd nurtured from the sun-baked Spanish earth.
Idly, he lifted his palm towards the moon, allowing himself to focus on the magic he could feel mingling with his own core magic that he still worked at every day. He breathed in the intention of it, searching every dark corner of himself for the richness of that lunar magic that had once flowed abundantly through his veins.
The steady rhythm of his heart kept him grounded and tempered his expectations when nothing happened, and no surge of magic coursed through him.
He knew better, but it couldn't hurt to try.
Opening his eyes again, he sat up, stretching his long legs before him as he fixed his stare on his palm. Hermione had drawn the affiliation forth from him once, although he still wasn't certain whether that had been her own magic reaching through the connection between them.
But that night, she'd talked about belief.
And what better to encourage belief than to know so many stood alongside them, willing to offer their loyalty to a cause they hardly knew.
His eyes slid shut again. For a moment, he pictured it.
A not so distant future, wherein the Nocturnus Order had reclaimed that which was theirs. He lived with Hermione in the castle, they were surrounded with council and friends—one and the same.
A breath caught in his throat, tears breaking from his eyes as a visceral, intense longing swept through him at the thought of a proper future with Hermione. A future heir to the throne of the Lunae Ortus. Heirs or heiresses.
Draco desired to have children one day, but he'd scarcely allowed himself to dream of it. But now he could see them—children running around, all blond hair and wild curls, playing on the endless rolling Tuscan hills. His bride, beautiful as ever, now a mother as well.
It was a time when they wouldn't have to fear and fight for their lives. A time when they could simply exist.
Silent tears leaked down his cheeks as the images of it flashed with such sharp relief in the back of his mind that Draco might have believed them to be true if he didn't know any better. With a deep, shuddering breath, he dropped his face into his palm as true pain wrenched through him at the reminder that none of it was real.
Brightness seared through his eyelids to the backs of his eyes, and he jolted upright with a startled intake of breath.
The lines of his palm glowed a bright silver to match the moon above, the light leeching towards the tips of his fingers. A swelling of magic raced through him, and the intensity of it shocked him to the core.
At his side sat Hermione, knees drawn into her chest and arms coiled tightly around herself. Tears streamed down her cheeks.
"You were projecting your thoughts," she whispered. Briefly, she shook her head. "I've never seen it before."
His eyes snapped to her, nerves rippling through him at the thought that she'd seen his deepest desires. But she hadn't touched him at all, and his palm positively shone with the lunar affiliation. He gaped at his hand, fixing all of his remaining energy on drawing the magic forth.
They both watched, Draco with incredulity and Hermione with a soft smile on her lips, as the magic lifted from his hand, hovering as a ball of light in the air between them.
As if consciously choosing to ignore the affiliation, she only breathed, "Those are my dreams, too." Her hand found his other one. "That we might one day have the safety and freedom to have a family of our own. That all of this might be over."
Draco squeezed her hand, grounding himself to her magic as he coiled the affiliation along each of his fingers, his chest heaving with the effort of the magic even as disbelief echoed in the back of his mind.
"I knew you would do it," Hermione added softly.
As if it were that simple, as if it had never been a question.
The images of a future together still clung to the backs of his eyelids, his heart raw at the idea of them. He only nodded, squeezing her hand once more.
"We aren't the villains in this story," he breathed, banishing the doubts and fears that had chased him for months on end. Swallowing, he watched as the light from his palm flared, breaking free and hovering around them as he idly directed it outwards.
At last he blew out a breath and finished with a wry, "Maybe that means we'll get our happy ending after all."
Hermione ducked in, her lips finding his with a whispered, "I believe in us."
And, just maybe, he could too.
Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I'm thrilled to announce that Nocturnus is fully written as of this week at 57 chapters total! I can't wait to share the rest of it with all of you.
Thank you to my wonderful alphas Kyonomiko and LadyKenz347, as well as my amazing beta ravenslight. Through to the end, LadyKenz will be stepping away from alpha reading Nocturnus; so many thanks for all the hours she spent helping make this story its best.