Author's Note: All disclaimers apply. I do not own the characters contained in this story. They belong to J.K. Rowling, her publishers, and Warner Bros. Inc. Also thanks for all of the reviews. They are very inspirational and appreciated! Edited to add credit to Kathleen E. Woodiwiss and her plot from Shanna. This entire disclaimer applies to her work as well.

Chapter 17

Hermione's Truth and Shame

She remembered everything, the magic that had held her in place while the unknown figures placed their hands around her throat, the knives that slashed at her skin. Hermione had faced much worse and honestly she wasn't traumatized. The attack wasn't as brutal as it could have been, but there would be left over bruises, some scars that might not heal. That didn't matter at the moment however.

They hadn't intended to kill her and Hermione knew that. It was all to frighten and humiliate her. They also wanted to make it seem like a Muggle crime, which was supposed to disgrace her further. Either way the haze that she had lain in for an indeterminable amount of time was finally beginning to clear, and as her eyes opened she blinked trying to focus. The person she had hoped to find leaning over her was not there, and though she knew it was improbable that they would allow Draco near her right now, that didn't stop her from wanting to ask for him.

Ginny stared back at her with a reassuring smile and kept squeezing her hand. "Hermione, can you hear me?"

"Hmm," she groaned, easing slowly up in the bed and deciding against trying to sit for the time being.

"Harry, Mum she's awake," Ginny whispered happily toward the direction of the door.

Harry and Molly Weasley came into view, each looking as relieved as Ginny. "Oh dear you gave us a start," Molly said, coming forward and kissing Hermione's forehead. "When George flooed us we weren't sure what had happened. Do you remember anything at all?"

"They had masks, bound me magically and then used knives, not wands," Hermione replied weakly, wondering why everything still seemed so fuzzy.

"Well we're just happy that you're going to be all right," Molly sighed, dashing back tears with her hands. "Don't worry about having to answer any questions until you're ready. When you're up to it the Ministry can send someone here and they can try and find who did this."

"Oh, my parents," Hermione sighed, while nodding at Molly's statement. "No one told them did they? They'll worry and there's no need. I'll be fine and I'll make certain to keep Draco at the shop instead of sending him over to the twins'."

A dark silence fell over the room, and Hermione instinctively knew something was horribly wrong. "Ginny? You didn't owl my parents did you? They've had enough of hearing about my past adventures. This isn't…."

"Mione'," Harry began softly, brushing a curl behind her ear. "Percy came to the shop after Malfoy and George found you. He came to arrest Malfoy for breaking his bond to the Ministry by leaving without your permission and for…"

"Harry, Draco hasn't left the shop except to help George and Fred," Hermione groaned, already sensing a disagreement brewing and not feeling up to the challenge.

"Mione' the Ministry has reason to believe that Malfoy committed another murder, well murders," Harry continued. "I'm so sorry, Gods I am, but Mione' there's significant evidence that suggests that Malfoy murdered your Mum and Dad."

She was going to be ill, no she was going to scream and never stop. It wasn't right, it couldn't be. Her parents had been placed in hiding at least three times during the war to protect them from Death Eaters. Now the Death Eaters were no more and they were supposed to be safe. Then, Hermione's mind registered another fact; they were convinced that Draco had murdered them. There was no second-guessing this as inaccurate. He'd been in the flat with her every night since they had decided to continue their marriage and in the sight of Fred and George at all times. "No," she whispered not recognizing her own voice.

"Darling, now I know this is a shock and..."

"No, it wasn't Draco," Hermione stated fervently, finding the strength to raise herself up in the bed and reach for Molly's hand. "When, when did they…" she couldn't finish the statement. The numbness would go away wouldn't it? The disbelief would fade.

"The night before you were attacked, about three days ago," Molly said, tears forming in her eyes again. "Harry told me you thought you were making some progress with that Malfoy boy, but everyone can misread another's character."

"He was with me," Hermione blurted out, no longer caring who knew any longer. She'd kept the secret for more than a year and suddenly it didn't matter who knew or why. Something inside of her was crumbling, breaking into a thousand pieces and she couldn't stand the deceit any longer.

"I know you think he was in that cellar you let him sleep in," Harry said softly, keeping his temper from flaring at the fact Hermione immediately jumped to Malfoy's defense.

"He wasn't in the cellar Harry," Hermione snapped, eyes blazing. "Where's Neville? He can prove what I'm about to tell you."

"He's been checking in on you everyday and he should be here in a little while again," Ginny assured her, some comprehension dawning as to Hermione's true meaning.

"What do you mean?" Harry demanded, his reassuring tone gone.

"He was in my flat above the shop Harry, the entire night. Do I need to expound further or can you use your imagination?"

"Oh my," Molly gasped, eyes growing wide.

"Molly, it isn't like it sounds," Hermione rushed to explain, wincing as she shifted in the bed. "Ginny, the man I married to get my inheritance didn't die. I had to make the deadline in the will and I got desperate. So, I made a plan, and thinking back it sounds ridiculous and I must have been barking mad to consider it, but at the time it made sense. Draco was supposed to be executed, and since I didn't really want to marry, I thought it would be easier if the man I chose wouldn't be around to complicate things. "

"You didn't?" Ginny asked, a weird smile of shock and confusion turning up her lips.

"Fucking Malfoy! Hermione, you said you married some American bloke who died!" Harry shouted, thoroughly outraged and stepping away from her bed.

"You've got to floo Neville and tell him to come," Hermione pleaded with Molly and Ginny. "He helped me disguise the marriage certificate that had to be filed at the Ministry. Percy's made a mistake and…"

"You made the mistake," Harry accused harshly. "I thought you had more sense than this. Just for money you married yourself to the one man who tried to destroy everything we were taught to respect and uphold. He's killed Muggles Hermione! Gods, what were you thinking?"
"He didn't kill Muggles and what happened in the tower isn't exactly how you remember it," Hermione said defensively, not really wanting to approach the subject of Dumbledore's death. Hermione was in pain however, her husband was falsely accused once again, and she was still grappling with the news about her parents. That part had to be a nightmare, it must be. No, she would get Neville and he would make sure Draco was released. They would go home and she would owl her parents and they would respond.

"Don't you dare defend him!" Harry growled at her, green eyes flashing and fists clenched at his sides. "He was going to kill Dumbledore. Kill him, Mione'."

"He didn't did he?" Hermione snarled back. "Snape killed Dumbledore, not Draco and you can…"

"Harry," Ginny called, but the door slamming was all that answered her. Sighing, Ginny turned back to her friend. "You know he's never gotten over that night. Listen, I'll go floo Neville, but we're not through here. There's a lot to discuss."

Hermione didn't answer she only stared off toward the window watching the first spatters of rain hit the glass. She heard Ginny sigh again but still didn't acknowledge her. They weren't gone and now her secret was out. No more denying or lying to her friends and family. She wondered what her father would think of Draco after all of those years of telling him how horrid Draco had been to her at school.

"Dear, would you like me to get you something to eat?" Molly asked, not sure what to say or do. The news that Hermione was still married, let alone to the Malfoy heir, was surprising and shocking. She didn't know what to say about any of it.

"No, thank you," Hermione whispered, lost in her own thoughts. It was over, the secrets, the lies. She was sure her mother would want to make them renew their vows with caterers and flowers and everything she'd ever dreamed of for her only child.

Yet, somewhere in her mind Hermione knew she was hiding from the truth and making excuses. She wasn't ready to let go, to accept it yet. She couldn't let herself believe she was alone, that her family gone forever. Neville would come though, and he would make sure they knew it was all a misunderstanding. He would make sure they released Draco and then maybe she could stand it. If she could just maintain her control for a while longer, just until she saw Draco again, then it would be all right.

"Were you pleased to find Miss Granger injured? Did it save you the trouble later on? It must be a relief to you knowing she's dead," Percy repeated the same questions he had asked for the past three days.

The sodding coward didn't even come close enough for Draco to reach him anymore. He was nothing if self preserving and smart. So, instead he was forced to imagine the bastard lying prone on the floor bleeding and writing in agony, moments from death. Thinking about Percy's death put other morbid thoughts aside and kept him from remembering the last time he'd seen her.

Hermione was dead. Percy had stated the fact and Draco didn't trust himself to speak or acknowledge the Junior Minister. He kept his back to the man, arms to his sides and fists unclenched to appear outwardly calm and simply defiant. However, when it was proven that he wasn't guilty, and he was released again, Percy wasn't going to be able to hide or run far enough. Draco would see to that. The bastard had all but given the Du Mariers free reign to do as they pleased, and Draco was convinced they were behind the attack.

"Still not talking. That's another night then," Percy sighed, meaning he would withhold food again until Malfoy decided to answer his questions.

There was no response from the other side of the cell, not that Percy had expected any. He'd known Malfoy would return and he'd show himself for what he truly was. He was the son of a Death Eater, had joined Voldemort's ranks himself. This was a fitting punishment for betraying the Ministry. There were some discrepancies in the claims, but Malfoy deserved to be reprimanded for his crimes in a more substantial way than at playing Indentured Servant. "We'll resume this tomorrow. Improving your attitude might benefit you later."

The door to the cell couldn't close fast enough, and when Draco knew he was alone, he released the breath he had been holding also letting the some of the fury escape as well. Unable to contain the pent up cry of rage he slammed an already bruised and bloody fist into the nearest wall. Finding that did him little good he slumped down to the floor leaning his head back and closing his eyes. The same familiar clanging echoed around him as the manacles on his wrists pulled the chains linked into the wall.

Maybe staying in prison wouldn't be so terrible after all if Hermione were dead. If he was lucky they might find him guilty and give him The Dementor's Kiss. Then he wouldn't remember anything, wouldn't remember what happiness had felt like. That was better than living each day having known what his life could have been, seeing he couldn't have what he wanted any longer.

Draco had begged Percy that first night, shamelessly after he'd recovered from Longbottom's spell. Why couldn't the bugger be as inept now as he was in school, but that was beside the point? He'd denied everything at first, and again like he swore he would never do, he'd begged Percy to tell him that Hermione was alive and safe. Finally at the end of his interrogation Weasley had stood at the door of his cell and shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid Miss Granger's condition deteriorated rather quickly after her arrival at the hospital. At least the poor girl had my family with her in the end."
Recalling those words Draco decided The Dementor's Kiss could wait, and he'd punish Percy first. Revenge assuaged the soul, or so he was taught. When someone caused you pain you returned the favor as it were. Percy had been so intent on destroying him and catering to the wealthy families he'd failed Hermione when she needed his help the most. No, you failed her, Draco snarled to himself. Just like Potter failed Dumbledore in the tower. You're no better than the scar headed git you've despised for years.

Dropping his head onto his knees that he drew to him, Draco didn't hear the cell door opening again. Footsteps were also lost on him until the visitor spoke. "Malfoy?"

Out of surprise he forgot to maintain his silence and lifted his head to peer up at the intruder. "Longbottom? Gods, what do you want?"

"She told them," Neville said simply, without preamble. "She told them that you both were married last year, that she was planning on remaining married to you, and that you were with her the entire night that her parents were murdered."

"Why? Why does it matter now?" Draco shrugged, and shook his head, his tone distant and detached.

"Because this means that you're cleared of the crime and Percy, narrow minded sod that he is, has to release you."

"Again, that matters how?"

"What the bloody hell is the matter with you?" Neville demanded harshly. "Why aren't you jumping at this? This is what you've wanted, for Hermione to admit to your marriage, for you to get your freedom. She signed the release papers and they're waiting on Scrimgeour's desk."

"I know she's dead Longbottom!" Draco shouted, coming to his feet, and advancing on the Auror before him. "That Weasel told me…"

"Good Gods no," Neville sighed, this time with exasperation. Percy had probably wanted to make Malfoy slip and say something if he thought Hermione had died in the attack. The thing was Neville was beginning to suspect that Percy's determination to make Malfoy believe the worse had the opposite affect. "She's fine. She's going to be released tomorrow, but Malfoy that's what…"

"She's alive?" The question was a hesitant whisper. "Weasley lied?"

"He was trying to trick you, make you say something probably to incriminate yourself. That's not the point though…."

"You're certain?" Draco asked again, impulsively shaking Neville by the shoulders. "She's fine and she's going to be able to leave the hospital?"
"Yes, and go straight to the Ministry for interrogation," Neville said, shocked that Malfoy was acting so strangely. "They found the certificate in her flat with some of your things and the one here as well. Percy knows she married you through dishonest means and he's going to charge her with sedition."

"You let this happen?" Draco raged at Neville, his mind already trying to devise a quick scheme. He hadn't been as careful with the certificate after Hermione's agreement that they stay married. Having the Ministry discover it was his fault. Then Draco's thoughts shifted again, money, that had always worked before and obviously the Du Mariers were flashing about quite a bit to create such a fiasco lately. He'd have to buy their way out of this now. "Longbottom, just when I thought you might be useful…" he trailed off beginning to pace.

"What she sees in you I'll never know," Neville sighed, his own anger growing. "I came here to tell you this so you could be informed. Percy's bringing her in tomorrow when she's released. Luckily, whoever attacked her only meant to scare her. Just minor injuries really, nothing that shouldn't be completely healed by the end of the week the healers say. They'll try again possibly, and I'm guessing it has to do with that elf nonsense of hers."

"Is Scrimgeour still here?" Draco asked halting for a brief moment.

"No, he signed your release papers a few minutes ago and left for the evening. Again, all of that isn't the point. Actually with you free and able to claim your inheritance this might be better for Mione' in the long run."

"I want to see him as soon as he is in. Do you suppose he could be persuaded to return and discuss some business?"

Neville shook his head. "Doubtful. He's rather fed up with this S.P.E.W. drivel and the Du Mariers altogether. Also, he's none to pleased that you're going to be walking around in society again."

"Oh, but I'm certain he'll accept whatever donations I make as long as he keeps Percy from pursuing Hermione's case," Draco sneered, having no great love for the Ministry anymore himself. He'd lost most of his respect for them years ago, but if he thought about it, Percy was the real problem.

"I don't care what you do or how you do it but you can't let them take her tomorrow," Neville urged his face growing serious and stern. "Malfoy, she's. She's not herself. You know her parents are dead now and she hasn't made any arrangements or even talked about it. I made sure to spare her the details, but it was obviously a wizard that killed them. She barely speaks, hasn't eaten, and Harry's made her miserable for admitting she's your wife. He's got his reasons to be angry with you, Gods knows he does, but she's, Malfoy she needs to get out of the hospital and go home. That's the only way she'll start to deal with things."
"Where did this sudden faith come from that I'd be determined to help her?" There was no question about it. Draco knew he'd hand over his entire inheritance, and the Malfoy estate, as long as Scrimgeour told Percy to go to hell and leave Hermione well enough alone. However, Longbottom must have been desperate to come to him, risk his job at the Ministry to be seen in his cell.

"The first night I stayed with her after Harry and Ginny went home for the night and Ron took his Mum back to The Burrow. As incomprehensible as it was to me she trusts you, and she didn't stop begging me all night to go get you. She wanted you and no one else." Admitting that was painful, excruciating but it had to be said. Malfoy's money could be the only thing Scrimgeour listened to now. Hermione was a powerful and well-respected witch for her role in the war, but the wealthy families held the true control and force. To end it all and have it wrapped up Scrimgeour would give Percy free reign to send Hermione before the Wizengamot.

Draco said nothing to this only nodding and holding out his arms motioning for Neville to release him. Then he froze, and leveled the other man with a steely glare. "How is it that Percy's not locking you up and charging you with sedition? You let her in the Ministry, you helped me leave for the evening we were married. Shouldn't you be sharing some of the blame?"

Neville did look sheepish at this, and couldn't meet Draco's eyes. "Yes, I'm as guilty as she is, but she refuses to give the name of the Auror responsible for helping her. She wouldn't even tell them where or how you were married because she was afraid they'd use it as an excuse to charge you with intent to flee. If you could see her you'd understand that right now, disagreeing with her about anything at all isn't possible. Well, trust me you can't let her be sent here. She can't wait in a cell and go to trial."

Everything Longbottom was telling him Draco was intently listening to, and absorbing, but he couldn't let himself be distracted now. His first impulse was to sign the release papers and go directly to St. Mungo's. That would do Hermione little good tomorrow when Percy came to take her. He couldn't focus on the relief and joy he felt at knowing she was alive, that she was all right, nor could he focus on worrying about her obvious grief that was killing her inside. "Whatever, get me those papers and then I need to get some things together. Is there a way to Floo to the manor still or did the Ministry seal any and all entrances and exits except the more conventional ones?"

"I don't believe so. When they searched it after your mother fled they made sure there were no easy ways to make it to and from the manor," Neville answered him reaching out and undoing the manacles. "Aren't you going to the hospital?"

"I'll have to go the manor first and make sure it's fit to even sleep in, then I have to make an appointment with Gringotts to discuss the transfer of my inheritance. You will see to it that Scrimgeour is in his office early tomorrow?"

"You're really going to help her?" Neville asked, still not believing what he was seeing or hearing.

"Don't look so surprised Longbottom," Draco sneered, as they walked from the cell. He rubbed his wrists a few times deciding he wouldn't feel the vise of such a restraint again. "Did you think I'd let her rot in here?"

"Honestly, yes," Neville shrugged, closing the cell door and continuing up the hall with Malfoy at his side. "Not very long ago I would have been sure you'd wanted a front row seat for her ultimate downfall."

"Things change," Draco allowed as a noncommittal answer.

"Maybe people can too."

Raising an eyebrow Draco turned his head to glance sideways at Neville. "Did you almost offer me a compliment?"

"Don't get used to it."

"I wouldn't dare."

"Mrs. Malfoy, do you understand what has been stated here?" Percy asked Hermione calmly, while she gazed beyond him out the window.

"You don't have to do this," Ron snarled at his brother, sitting at Hermione's side and waiting until the last possible second to clap the manacles on her wrists.

"Ronald, even famous witches and wizards must abide by the rules and laws placed before us. Mrs.Malfoy, your answer please," Percy said again, his voice condescending and patronizing.

"She bloody knows you ugly prat," Ginny snapped, arms crossed as she stood to the side glaring at her brother. "How you can be this cruel I'll never know. Mum didn't give birth to you I'd swear it."

"Ginerva, your opinion isn't important. Now, stop your childish ranting and…"

"Mind yourself Percy," Harry warned softly. "You're speaking to my wife."

"I would think you'd be on my side here Mr. Potter. Mrs. Malfoy chose a deceitful way to solve her problems and with the help of someone of a rather devious character. I was sure I was safe in assuming that there was no love lost between you and Mr. Malfoy."

When Harry didn't answer, and shuttered his gaze to hide his thoughts, Percy returned his attention to Hermione. "We're going to leave now. You'll be given a private cell, and in the morning when you feel more up to it we'll have to try and work this out further. The more you cooperate the easier I can make this. Ronald, the restraints if you please."

"Mione' hold up your wrists. I won't make them too tight," Ron whispered, squeezing her shoulders before bending to do his task.

Hermione heard the clink of the manacles as they went into place and wondered if she would be able to stand. What would her mother think when she heard this? Your mother already knows, she's watching you right now and so is your father. Someone murdered them and instead of finding the person responsible the Ministry is taking action against you, Hermione thought bitterly. Actually it's Percy, Scrimgeour's only letting him take on the Du Marier case and they can't prove anything there.

She knew she was rambling in her mind and not making sense, so Hermione focused on standing, keeping her knees strong, and not wavering. Draco must have been released by now and he had abandoned her. Why had she ever thought he would do differently? She'd revealed their secret, and now Draco had all that he needed, his money and his freedom. Dejectedly, she walked from her room not able to meet Harry or Ginny's eyes. Molly hadn't been able to stand it any longer, and when Percy had arrived she'd let Arthur lead her away. It was probably more along the lines of the fact that Molly had some choice words for her middle child that Percy was a prat enough to use against her. Luckily the Weasley's had promised to find her the best barrister they could and with Percy telling them there was no need they'd departed.

"Mione', this will all be over before you know it," Ginny said, sniffling and reaching out to pat her arm as she drifted by.

"Ginerva, giving false hope isn't polite," Percy stated as he followed Hermione and Ron toward the door.

"Not all hope is false Weasley. Fate's been pretty generous as far as I've been concerned. Apparently, it's done my wife a favor as well."

Percy's face twisted into an even uglier scowl than most thought him capable of. "Already insinuating yourself into society, and barely a day after your rather dubious reprieve."

"Is there some law that states I'm forbidden to escort my wife home after she's been ill and hospitalized?" Draco stood blocking the doorway, but couldn't look at her yet, not until Percy was out of the room and he could find something else to distract him from ripping the man's throat out. Well, then again he'd managed to purchase another wand just that morning from Ollivander's so a simple curse would suffice. He supposed the Cruciatus Curse would land him back in Azkaban, and that wouldn't do now with things seemingly going his way. Maybe a few meaningful hexes, but he digressed. There was more important business at hand.

"Malfoy you're the cause of all of this." Harry rounded behind Percy and glared vengefully at his enemy. Coming closer he stood nearly nose-to-nose with Malfoy not sure if he could keep himself from resorting to hexes and a physical retaliation. "We're handling this, and Mione' doesn't need you making things worse."

"Step away from me Potter. I'm afraid you're contagious, and stupidity is an infliction I would rather not have." Bloody fool was handling it? Merlin the man was an arrogant arse and more dense than Draco had given him credit for being. "Weasley, I've discussed this matter with Scrimgeour himself and obviously there's been a misunderstanding."

"Mrs. Malfoy has committed treason. Now, it is a minor form yes, but treason all the same," Percy asserted, wondering why Malfoy looked so very smug. Probably because he was once again wearing his silk and tailored black robes with his hair freshly clipped and slicked back severely. Standing tall and superior he was every inch the heir of the manor again and Percy wanted to wipe the maddening smirk off of his face.

"This is from Scrimgeour personally absolving Mrs. Malfoy of any wrong doing. Now, kindly remove those restraints or will you disobey a direct order from the Minister?" Draco kept his gaze trained on Percy as the conceited bastard read the parchment that Draco had handed him. It was satisfying to see the rage and hatred building up inside of him, contorting his rigid features and igniting in his eyes. "The Du Mariers are wealthy and well known. However, if you chance to read your history you will see that the Malfoy name precedes the Du Marier's by at least three centuries."

Ron didn't wait for Percy to answer and readily removed the manacles, pocketing the rotten things in his robes, and breathing a sigh of relief. For once he didn't care that Malfoy was flaunting his Pureblooded status or using his money for a means to an end. At least he was doing the noble thing and helping Hermione. "Come on Mione'," Ron said, comfortingly. "Harry and Ginny will take you home."

"Did you misunderstand me?" Draco turned a sharp look of displeasure upon Ron. "I said I've come to take my wife home, with me."

"This is insane," Harry snapped, impatiently. "Malfoy what are you playing at? Now it's all fine and decent I suppose that you've helped her today, but…"

"Potter the very sound of your voice is beginning to annoy me," Draco warned, as a muttering Percy stalked past him, making certain to push him into the edge of the doorway as he went. Finally free of the man who he considered the root of his problems Draco let his gaze rest on Hermione for the first time.

She was pale, almost deathly so, and the bruises on her neck were harsh and painful to look at. Her eyes were staring at him, fathomless as though she didn't truly believe what she was seeing. Though he doubted it very much, if the Ministry were to ever find the people responsible for hurting her he'd make certain they met their deaths discreetly before going to trial. Taking a deep breath to give himself a moment to find his voice he extended a hand out to her. "Hermione, it's time to go."

For a second Hermione didn't move, but then slowly she stepped away from Ron and took the hand offered. He'd come back for her, and though she was surprised, and nearly on the verge of tears, she didn't want to appear pathetic or make him wish he'd left her behind. His fingers closed over hers securely and she welcomed the strength it gave her, that small gesture. Taking her free hand to adjust her robes she felt Draco give her a gentle tug in the direction of the door.

Not offering another word to any of her friends Hermione kept walking, letting Draco lead her down the winding halls of the hospital. Neither spoke as they continued, and she wondered if he was merely going to help her back to her flat, and then be on his way. She didn't want to ask and didn't have the courage to. She simply followed him until they were at the entrance. Eyes, both disapproving and curious bore into them as they walked down the front steps, and to Hermione's, surprise toward a waiting carriage. She did turn a questioning glance to Draco then, while a small elf hurriedly opened the door for them and placed a stepping block beside it.

"The Ministry made it impossible to Floo to or from the manor. You're in no condition to Apparate so, this will have to do," Draco said standing aside and helping her step up into the conveyance.

Hermione stepped inside and took a seat, finding the interior very rich and expensively decorated. As with any carriage there was an old Victorian feel about it and the golden trim around the seats, and plush green fabric, added to the style. Draco appeared sitting next to her, waving the elf ahead, and soon they were moving the carriage jostling over the uneven streets.

More silence followed before the wave of anguish engulfed her. Tears that Hermione had held back since the night she was told of her parent's brutal death readily flooded her eyes and sobs that she couldn't control shook her entire frame. She sounded horrible, choking and sputtering while she tried to bite back the wails torn from her throat. Mortified that she was unable to manage herself any better Hermione knew Draco would think she was weak and pitiful. What did that matter? Draco was probably going to be disgusted with her now at her behavior, and she had revealed their marriage before he had wanted to most likely.

Her jumbled thoughts and aching body kept Hermione from realizing for a time that Draco had drawn her up into his arms and settled her on his lap. Rocking her as if she were a child Hermione became aware finally that he was there as she had wanted all of those days before. Clutching at him desperately she cried and he said nothing letting her release all of the emotions she'd suppressed. After what seemed like hours she quieted and slumped into his chest, limp and weary. The potions given to her were beginning to wear off, and the slashing wound in her side began to throb. It was nothing compared to the pain of knowing she would have to face the truth. Her parents were gone, dead, and she would have to properly bury them and see to arrangements that she was far from ready to make. "Are you going to take me home?" Hermione asked after a time, suppressing an exhausted yawn.

"Yes, and I would like it if you would sleep. Did they give you any potions to take with you?" Hermione had never heard him speak so softly before, and it soothed her more, making her eyelids grow heavier.

"No, but there are some spells…" she whispered, but changed the subject abruptly. "It's not far to Diagon Alley, just a couple of hours. I can sleep when I get home."

"It's a good deal farther to Malfoy Manor and I intend for you to rest when we get there as well." She felt Draco lean down and adjust her so he could press a kiss to her temple. "Where did you think I was taking you?"

Draco had mentioned the manor hadn't he, she mused and the weight and pain lifted somewhat. Even the sharp throb in her side eased a little, and she curled contentedly against him. "Nowhere, just home," Hermione sighed, and was asleep seconds later.