Her letter came the next morning, as expected.

Mr. Malfoy

The following is a summary of your recent appointment with the Office of Elfish Welfare regarding:

-Ceely the Elf

-Risly the Elf

Prints (magical and physical) were obtained to register Ceely and Risly into the O.E.W. Database.

In addition, ID paperwork was distributed.

Plan: Ceely and Risly are to attend medical appointments with ministry-appointed healer Waverly at St. Mungo's. Please have all records owled to the Department of Elven Welfare before our next meeting.

You may expect an owl from my secretary to go over availability.

Thank you for meeting with me, and for your continued effective efforts of cooperation.

Hermione Granger

Coordinator of Elfish Welfare


Effective efforts of cooperation, Draco thought with a snort.

He didn't stop himself this time, choosing to quickly scratch a follow up note that read:

Granger,

Working with you has been most inspiring. Your agreeableness had made the process most satisfying.

As mentioned before, feel free to reach out again, as needed.

D.M.


2 weeks later

Hermione Granger sat at her desk in her office, belly full from the lunch she had just consumed as she sprinted through some paperwork before her next meeting in an hour. She'd had a really good day, really good past two weeks, with a notable pep in her step.

"What's gotten into you?" Gia had said on Monday as Hermione brought in a box of assorted breakfast pastries and coffee for them both. Hermione furrowed her eyebrows as she picked out a round glazed cake and took an eager bite.

"You've just been..." Gia started, "cheery... less uptight."

Hermione shrugged and took another bite of her pastry before saying, "I can be cheery."

"Right," Gia responded skeptically.

Tonight, Hermione planned to have a good soak in her tub and dig into a popular muggle fantasy series her cousin Holly has suggested. Things at work had been calmer too. Overall, Hermione felt content; it was a rare feeling for her, but one she wanted to hold on to.

"Hermione," she heard Gia say from the doorway. Hermione turned to the witch who continued, "Mr. Malfoy is asking to be put through the Floo... says it's an emergency with one of his elves."

"Oh dear, " Hermione said, looking over to her office fireplace, "put him through then."

Gia exited the office and Hermione rose to close the door behind her. When she turned back around, she could just barely make out Draco's face from the ashes at the bottom.

Draco's head went into a coughing fit until he was finally able to choke out, "Damn it woman, all those elves and you can't clean out the soot from your fireplace?"

Her face sharpened, "you told Gia you had an emergency."

"I do," he let out another cough and she could just make out the sneer he was making at her on the other side of the floo.

"I need you to come speak to her. I can't ..." he coughed again, "I just can't believe this has happened," he finished.

Panic curled in Hermione's stomach, "Alright then, move out of the way and I'll come through."


Hermione entered Draco's apartment swiftly, followed by a cloud of soot and ash. Malfoy was looking in a mirror that hung on his wall and picking ashes out of his white blonde hair. Risly sat, practically swallowed up, on a nearby arm chair. Her arms were crossed, and Hermione noted how the elf smiled at her sheepishly.

The witch caught Draco's eye from the mirror and he spun around.

"Granger," he said, with another cough, "have you seen the report?"

Hermione shook her head incredulously. "What on earth is going on?"

Hermione watched as Draco looked to the elf, his lips pulling back into a thin line before one side curled up.

"The report," he spat, looking away from the elf with disgust and back to Hermione. "From the elf healer, we went today."

"They... usually take a few days to get to us... what's happened?"

"Go on Risly, tell her what you've done." Draco said, but the elf only sank further in the chair.

"Is Risly okay?" Hermione asked, an edge began to form in her voice.

"Oh fine, Risly is just fine. In fact, THEY are all fine, and healthy. All THREE of my elves are perfectly healthy and developing just brilliantly!" Draco said, and his voice went up a few octaves after each word.

Hermione gave him a confused look before it dawned on her.

"She's…" Draco continued, pursing his lips as if he had a habit of keeping lemons in them, "pregnant," He finally mustered out the word, saying it as if it were something vulgar.

Hermione sighed and gave Draco a muted look of acrimony before turning to the elf. "Risly," she said softly, "how are you feeling about this?"

"Risly is proud." The elf's statement was determinedly strong and was accompanied by a raise of her head.

"Proud," Draco said, his voice so high-pitched now that it made both females wince a little, "that's not even the worst part, Granger. Shall I tell her or will you, Risly."

Risly gave him her own confused look this time.

"The... father," he sputtered, Hermione couldn't help but think Draco looked very much like his own father as he ranted and raved, "tell her who could be the father."

Risly sighed and held up her fingers, counting them off. When she'd passed through several fingers she gave up and shrugged. Draco made a choking noise that sounded a great deal like he had swallowed a flobberworm.

"So... you, Granger, I need you to speak with her because I... I cannot fathom..."

"Malfoy," Hermione said cautiously.

He cut his eyes to her in expectation of agreement but found none.

"Could I speak with you elsewhere, for a moment," she said narrowly.

He gave her a disbelieving look and he mouthed something that resembled "me?" As he acquiesced to follow her out of the room.

When they had made it to the dining room she turned to him, her hair whipping behind her like a wave, "Don't you think you are being rather childish?" She snapped.

"Childish?" He repeated, an annoyingly befuddled look on his face.

Hermione continued, "You're treating her like you've come home to find your teenage daughter has been knocked up. She's a grown elf. What on earth did you think she was doing on all of her 'travels'?"

He stood there blankly for a moment as if he had forgotten to speak, blinking at her a few times before hissing out through gritted teeth, "Traveling."

She scoffed, "Of course, you would know nothing of their nature," she snapped. "Nature," Draco repeated, his voice an irksome monotone.

"It's perfectly... natural for them. It's typical for elves to have multiple partners when they mate—"

"Mate," he said, his face twisting in disgust.

"Have you turned into a parrot, Malfoy? Yes, elves mate, just like any other creature. It might go quite over your supercilious brain, but elves have need of..."

"I've had elves my whole life, Dobby never—" Draco began, then stopped with Hermione tilted her head comically.

"Ceely..." he tried, shaking his head. Her eyebrows lifted.

"Disgusting," he said with horror.

Her eyes narrowed, "You're being quite hypocritical, Draco. Though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised that misogyny runs in the pipeline of racists, recovering or not."

He looked at her as if she had morphed into a hippogriff right before his eyes, "What?" He said.

"I seem to recall you being quite eager to have your socks rocked off, just there," she said, inclining her head to the wall.

He looked as though he had been stupefied.

"That was... that is different," he said, shaking his head.

'Is it?" Hermione asked sharply.

Now Draco looked as if the flobberworm had wriggled its way to his intestines.

Hermione continued, "Tell me, Draco, did you have Risly clean me off your walls or did you actually lift a finger yourself for once?"

His abashed demeanor chilled into its familiar frigidity as he seemed to contemplate her words.

"You've made your point," he drawled, "So what, pray tell, would the O. E. W. suggest I do?"

She stood for a moment in thought. This was actually a really good thing for the office. The first birth since its commissioning; they were currently making history.

"Well," Hermione started, "in years before, elves really weren't given much of a choice about what they wanted to do when it came to their young. I suggest you talk to her, and come up with some sort of agreement. Elves bind themselves to wizards, and for the help they provide it is our responsibility to care for them." She paused to take an excited breath. "There are several options, the best thing we can do is to present them to her, and support her. Some elves kept their young to be the next generation to serve their family, others would hide them so as not to be seen as incapable to do their jobs..." Her hands gestured wildly as she spoke, reciting information she obviously found particularly interesting and fascinating, "This would be the first since O. E. W. has been formed, so we have an opportunity here to... set the standard, as it were. Of course I would like to be a part of things if you and she would have me... this would be a very exciting report on the steps being made for elfish welfare."

"And what do I do with... what will she need... for her condition?" he asked slowly, and Hermione couldn't help but let out a chuckle.

"As it so happens, development is similar to human's in that many of the symptoms are similar. Luckily for you I happen to have a very good friend in a similar... state." She checked her watch, "I have a meeting soon, but I'll stop by after work with a few things, in the meantime— talk to her."

Draco took in a breath and nodded at Hermione, spun his heals and headed back for the sitting room.

She followed, if only to referee should he get out of hand again. "Risly," he said, and Hermione could tell he was measuring his words carefully.

Hermione noticed that the elf had removed herself from the chair, and had begun fussing with the soot the witch had dragged in at the base of the fireplace.

Risly turned to look at him, and Hermione was surprised to see him take a knee to be level with the elf.

"I was a bit crude before." He glanced behind him at Hermione, then turned back to the elf. "Perhaps we can discuss... what you'd like to do, and we can talk with Ms. Granger about it tonight."

Hermione felt odd as she watched the exchange, mostly because she felt a warmth creep up in her chest. She'd had sex with this man twice. This man, who was quite different from the boy she once knew. Years had passed, and she had certainly changed, but the scene before her was quite abnormal. She suddenly felt self conscious as a bit of shame crept up her spine for her past brazenness. She had used Draco, taken advantage of him in a vulnerable state. Played into his loneliness for some sort of feckless gratification without really considering the consequences of those actions. Perhaps she wasn't doing as well as she thought. Had they both just been... following nature? Banging out resentments and meeting urges? It seemed barbaric, but so is the idea of war, which they had both experienced in their lifetime. Perhaps this was a more civilized way to battle.

That was different, he had said. The words rang in her ears, so she cleared her throat to silence them then blurted, "You two talk, I'll be back after work tonight and bring you a few things, Risly."

"Ms. Granger will be at dinner?" Risly asked, perking up slightly.

Hermione looked to Draco cautiously before saying "Oh... um, I wouldn't want to impose."

"Miss, you must!" The elf pleaded. "I-" Hermione stammered, "I really shouldn't..."

Risly didn't hide her disappointment, as her ears practically sank to the sides of her head.

Draco turned to Hermione, "Oh, come on Granger, you'll break the poor thing's heart if you don't. Besides, she always cooks more than she and I can finish, it will be no trouble."

"No trouble at all, Miss!" Risly squeaked.

Hermione knew she shouldn't. She needed to keep this relationship professional. Needed to not cross anymore lines, but something about the way they both looked at her caused her to say "Alright then, dinner tonight, but only if you eat with us, Risly"

The elf instantly perked up, but before she spoke her face turned confused as she said, "Risly always eats dinner with master when Risly is not away."

Hermione looked to Draco again, unable to hide the surprise from her face. Full of surprises, she thought. "Right..." She said, "Well, until tonight then."


Hermione had arrived that evening from the floo to deliver a basket of Ginny's recommended necessities including dried mango, potions for the skin and nausea, and a body pillow (which Hermione has magically shrunk to match the elf's size better,) all of which Risly accepted excitedly.

The elf beckoned the witch and wizard into the dining room and then disappeared with a crack. When she was gone, Hermione looked to Draco in awe and said, "I have to say I am surprised ... you take meals with your elf?"

"Sometimes," He began moving a chair before encouraging her to sit. "I've all these chairs, she might as well sit in one, shouldn't she?" When she sat, he took his place at the head of the table.

Another crack, and Risly reappeared in the seat across from Hermione, along with three plates of steamy, delicious smelling food.

"Lamb chops with Tibar sauce, cous-cous, and broccoli, Master's favorite." The elf then promptly folded her hands politely on her lap.


Draco still felt a little queasy, but sought solace in how Hermione widened her eyes and smiled at him as he relayed some of the plans he and Risly had discussed.

"Risly has expressed desire to keep it," Draco started, picking up his fork and knife, "and would like to raise it here."

Draco noticed the witch's prolonged stare, but chose to focus on cutting into his lamb.

"When did the healer say you're meant to give birth, Risly?" Hermione asked, tearing her eyes from Draco.

"End of September," Draco responded for the elf, whose mouth was now so full of lamb she was unable to respond immediately.

"Oh!" Hermione said excitedly, "that is around Ginny's due date as well!"

"You mean... the Weasley girl?" Draco asked, picking at his food.

"Potter, no longer Weasley." Hermione corrected.

"Right." Draco said, finally popping a bite into his mouth. He didn't want Granger to know that he knew Potter had been married years ago when it was on the front page in the Daily Prophet.

"The Boy Who Wed," the headline had said, along with a picture of Potter and the Weasley girl looking happy and proud… as well as the images of Granger and the Weasley boy looking quite cosy in the back of the photograph cheering them on.

A sudden thought occurred to him that caused the bite of lamb in his mouth to sour. Was Hermione married? Still with Weasley? He didn't have a clue. Could that be why she rushed out both of those times, why they seemed so frantic, forbidden?

Her left hand sat in her lap at the moment, so he attempted to incline his head to check for a ring, but his investigation was disrupted by a loud crack at the other end of the table.

"Master." It was Ceely and tears were welling in her large green eyes. "What is it?" Draco said, rising, and throwing his napkin on his plate in alarm.

"M-my mistress is sick again. Not taking Mistress's potion, Mistress is..." Ceely caught sight of Hermione and pressed her hands over her mouth hurriedly.

"Has she hurt herself?" Draco said, having no time for secrecy. Ceely only stood, frozen as more tears fell from her eyes, too upset to form words. Draco cast a worried look to Hermione who forcefully said, "Go!"


"Mother?" Draco began calling as soon as he exited the floo, his voice reverberated against the stone walls. The Manor was dark and eerie, which was to be expected on a normal day, but something sinister lined his nerves as he stepped out of the sitting room.

"Mother?" He said again, making his way into the main hall.

It was pitch black, but even with every candle lit and window drawn in the brightest part of the day could not chase away the darkness of this house. The things that happened here, the evil that had been inside. It left a film that could not be scraped clean, not even by the magic of elves.

He could hear his footsteps echoing as he walked past the dining room where he watched a snake eat a Hogwarts professor and past the drawing room where Hermione had been tortured. Screams that eventually faded into soft defeated whimpers as his mother's sister carved words into her flesh. Flesh he'd tasted, touched, and been inside.

He felt bile rise at the back of his throat, because even now he heard the cries. They bounced off the walls, muffled through the door behind him, haunting him.

Wait.

Draco turned back to the drawing room door and opened it.

"Mother." He said, seeing Narcissa Malfoy on the other side.

"Draco!" She shrieked, tears running down her face as she barreled into him, hugging him tight. "I couldn't find you, I thought..." she pulled herself off of him and grasped his shoulders.

He was taller than her now by several inches, and fine lines etched around her eyes. Draco could still see the beautiful woman he knew, even behind the gaunt and tortured look she now gave him.

"I don't know what else to do," she sobbed, "You are just a boy—he cannot make you do this!" She took his face in her hands, "I never wanted this for you. I told Lucius that I did not want to do this again, and now..." her voice broke off as she rubbed the sides of his face.

She shook her head, first slowly and then violently, "No..." she said slowly, "No, no, no..." She sobbed again, and her feet gave out. It was all Draco could do to keep her from falling over.

His mother held on to him tightly, and Draco finally said, "Mother, everything is okay. We're safe now." He lowered her to the floor as she buried her face into his neck, her tears falling and absorbing into the material of his shirt.

"I told Lucius I did not want this again, not for you. None of it matters..."

"Shhh," he said soothingly as she curled into him while he held her on the cool floor. She leaned into his chest and rocked.

Draco called for Ceely who herself had calmed, though her eyes were still red. He'd have to thank Granger later, who no doubt said just the right thing to soothe the elf.

Narcissa continued to repeat herself, along with other garbled things through her continued tears.

Draco looked over his mother's head as he held her and said to the elf, "Please apologize to Ms. Granger, I won't be back tonight."

Ceely nodded and disappeared.

"Severus will help. You're just a child, he cannot do this. How are we here again, I did not want any of this..." his mother mumbled.

He held her for a long time on the drawing room floor as she lamented about things long done.

Things too late to change.

She hadn't had a spell like this in a while. As long as she kept up with her potions, she remained relatively docile, though she typically stayed confined to her wing of the house.

Ceely kept up with her care, making sure she ate and washed. The elf occasionally would take her on walks around the grounds, and helped her pick and arrange flowers for her quarters.

The mind healers had done all they could at the moment, and Draco half wondered if her lack of continued progress was because his mother refused to allow them to do more. Maybe this was how she chose to punish herself, reliving her failures, blaming herself.

After some time, he thought she might have fallen asleep in his arms. He called for Ceely again, and together they were able to coax her into taking her potion, and put her back into bed.