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 25

Unwavering Devotion and Fears Unfounded

Hermione sat quietly, something that was difficult to do as Arthur related the events of the night before. Understandably it was too difficult for the four who had witnessed what had happened. Neville had once again faced his past, the sister of the woman responsible for his parents' state of mind. Ron had been forced to wonder about the fate of his friends, held in the cellar until the battle in the study had ended, not knowing what was happening, and his temper unraveling with each second. Then Harry once again met with the professor that had destroyed the last of his youth and innocence. However, the worst was what Draco had learned, and witnessed, his mother's final decent into oblivion. Yet, Arthur did not reveal the entire scenario, not telling the fact that Narcissa had started to utter the Killing Curse and directed it toward her son. No one who had been present corrected him.

"You poor boy," Molly had cried, with actual tears forming in her eyes, but not quite falling. Not one to hold herself back she had reached across the table and taken Draco's hand, squeezing it and ignoring him when he jerked and turned a steely gaze upon her.

The entire room had held its breath, Hermione included, but she released her pent up sigh when Draco relaxed and merely nodded. The shocked gazes of Ron and Harry didn't change when it appeared Draco was going to allow the gesture. "Thank you, for taking care of Hermione," he said genuinely.

"Did you think Mum wouldn't," Ron asked, outraged before thinking better of it.

"Ronald," Molly snapped, still able to silence her child with her motherly rebukes. "Be still." After that no one, not even Draco decided to argue with her that morning.

No one had really eaten, and Molly and Ginny took away nearly a full plate from everyone except Ron. Hermione rose to follow Ginny to her old room to retrieve her robes and wand and Fred and George, happy the excitement and tension were over, left to open their shop. This left Harry, Ron, and Neville alone with Malfoy when Arthur even made an excuse about seeing to something in the garden. Ron and Harry knew immediately it was an empty reason to let them all discuss what had taken place.

"Why didn't you say anything when you were originally brought to the Ministry? Why didn't you say anything that night in the tower?" Harry asked bluntly, having kept silent long enough.

Snape had revealed everything after the group had left the manor, and though Harry was sure there could have been more done to save Dumbledore, it was galling that he could no longer let the blame sit squarely on Malfoy's and Snape's shoulders concerning his demise. Malfoy's erratic behavior the last year he was in school and Snape's vow to Narcissa made much more sense now, but Harry wanted to hear it from Malfoy's mouth himself.

"Do we really have to have this conversation Potter?" Draco raised an eyebrow and tried his best not to look weary.

"Yes, because if we don't talk about it now you'll never let me bring it up again," Harry stated, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "So you warned Dumbledore, but you still let the Death Eaters in and you still stood by and did nothing while Snape murdered him. That still makes you guilty by association. Snape's finally getting what he deserves, life imprisonment, even if there were extenuating circumstances. If you both had just trusted someone, spoken to McGonagall or the Ministry, but no, you played with the lives of everyone else in favor or keeping your secrets."

"Harry," Neville said sharply then, eyes narrowing at his friend. "We were sixteen years old, fighting for a cause that was noble, but we truly didn't understand. Malfoy was caught on the opposing side in much the same position we were. The past is that, the past. Maybe it's better if we don't talk about last night or school again."

"Longbottom, having you try and fight a battle for me isn't helping the situation," Draco sighed, but only to cover the surprise at the sudden defense. "All right Potter, have your say. Let me know how truly terrible and worthless I was that night, but remember you could have tried to shield Dumbledore. You could have focused on his well being instead of Snape and myself. I'm man enough to admit that when I'm in the same vicinity as you all I can think of is how much I'd like to hex you from my sight. It's the same for you as far as I'm concerned. We let our rivalry blind us years ago and we still are. I don't want to be your friend. Gods know I can barely tolerate the fact that Hermione will be thinking it's all right to invite you to the manor, but let's at least not dwell on that night. It's haunted us both and it's time to let it go."

"It's not that easy for me," Harry said quietly. "Don't you think I've gone over and over in my head how I could have done this or that differently? I lost too much to Voldemort and I can't simply let it be forgotten that for a time, you willingly served him. Hermione's happiness means a lot to me, but Malfoy simply putting the past aside and forgetting it. I can't, not yet."

"That's your choice," Draco said with a shrug. "Weasley, thank your mother and father again, but I think it's time Hermione and I went home." Standing he pushed the chair back into the table and turned to walk toward the entrance.

"Malfoy, don't you think that Hermione should stay here for awhile until you can sort things out a bit?" Ron asked suddenly, having only heard second hand about Narcissa's violent end and wondering if returning to the manor was the best idea at this time.

"Weasley, Hermione comes and goes as she wishes. If she wants to stay here then I won't stop her," Draco said, not turning around to address Ron directly or halting in his steps.

Neville's head nodded once as though he just confirmed something he had expected. "I know the two of you won't ever see him as anything else than what he was in school. I understand your opinions, especially yours Harry, but Hermione's made her choice and trying to make her second guess herself, or make her miserable because you can't support it won't do any of us any good in the end. Honestly, the best thing for both Malfoy and Hermione is to go home and start going about life as usual."

"Neville, now I know you're feeling sorry for him because of his mother's death and what lead to it, but he's still selfish, and he still conspired against our school. You can't wipe the slate clean even if you do understand him in a way we can't. I know you think you share some kind of experience with him now because both of you had mad parents, but that doesn't change who he is and what you are," Harry said standing as well. He was angry because a part of him knew Malfoy was right. They should let it go and he should let Hermione be happy, but Merlin help him he didn't want her happiness to hinge on his acceptance of Malfoy.

"Harry's right Neville," Ron immediately agreed, "But so is Malfoy in a way. I'm just afraid he's going to brood even more and Hermione will be sorry she chose to stay married to him is all. I wasn't there but from what I can tell, having your own Mum tell you the things she did, Neville that's bound to bugger anyone's mind."

"Then leave him and Hermione alone and let them get on with their lives," Neville stated, realizing that this was a losing battle and that things were still too raw and emotional. "I've got to get back to The Ministry. Percy won't care we spent the entire night with Snape and filing reports. He'll want a fresh account and since Scrimgeour won't be speaking with him after hearing some of those false reports of Goyle's crossed his desk I'll be stuck with him all day."

Taking off in the direction that Malfoy had just left in, Neville paused at the doorway before walking out. Seeing Malfoy leaning against the wall glancing indifferently at a wall clock Neville took a deep breath and plunged ahead, not caring if he received numerous insults or a curt dismissal. "She didn't know what she was saying Malfoy. Sometimes my own Mum thinks I'm Bellatrix. Snape explained that she had lied in the diary at times because Lucius was reading it. Whatever was in there that made you turn it over to The Ministry might not be true."

"Longbottom," Draco hissed in warning, his eyes still not leaving the clock.

"All I'm saying is she wasn't in her right mind. For Gods sakes she'd been Polyjuicing herself since your father's death! Your father is the villain here Malfoy not her and not even you. You heard what the mind healer said from St. Mungo's last night, sometimes the thing we despise the most is all that we know. Your mother had become so familiar with your father's abuse that after he was gone her sanity suffered. She clung to the life she once knew and the only way to do that was to become the man she hated for all of those years. Malfoy it wasn't healthy, but it's what your father drove her to."

"Don't you think I know that!" Draco finally looked at Neville and there was self loathing and anger etched into his features. "My father abused her and I simply ignored it. When I was released from Azkaban did I try and contact her, or did I pursue my needs?"

"By then she was too far gone, even Snape admitted to that. Remember, he said that was why he wanted the diary. Your mother had stopped being herself for longer periods of time and was constantly becoming Lucius. He thought the diary could help her remember her true self. Malfoy, the moment your mother took that first sip of potion and lead that attack years ago she was lost. She chose to continue Lucius' plans. There wasn't anything you or Snape could have done." That much was true and Neville suspected that Narcissa might well have been descending into her condition long before Lucius' death. Numerous curses and constant abuse often lead to incurable ailments of the mind.

"Longbottom, I'm in no mood for placating or friendly overtures. I fucking know you think the same of me as Potter and Weasley and I'm not going to delude myself into thinking any different. Your approval doesn't mean anything to me and I wish to Merlin it didn't mean so much to Hermione, but…"

"Sod off, Malfoy. You don't know a damn thing about me anymore than I know anything really about you. We share something in common, morbid as it may be, and I was simply letting you know that despite our past I understand something about what you're feeling. I'm not going to pat you on the back and tell you everything is going to be all right. Molly Weasley will be doing enough of that I'm guessing whether you have anything to say about it or not, but whenever you want to talk and don't want to hear the pity and remorse from everyone around you I'll be ready to listen." Neville straightened what was left of his tattered robe and raised his wand.

"Longbottom," Draco sighed at last, as though in defeat. "Perhaps Hermione might like to have you to dinner if the house elves ever come out of hiding again. She'll owl you with the day and time."

"I accept the invitation then. Are Harry and Ron invited as well?" Neville knew the answer but couldn't resist. This was different, openly chatting with Malfoy and not worrying about a wicked retort or hateful hex.

"One step at time Longbottom. Don't think for a moment that I'm going to forget that I offered peace to Potter and he threw it back in my face."

"Why did you? Why did you make the first move to end the feud?"

"One last gesture of good will I suppose," Draco said running a bandaged hand through his hair. "Potter's such a stubborn bastard and Hermione's been hiding it well, but it bothers her. At least she'll know I made the effort."

"Go home Malfoy. Hermione's probably exhausted and the healers at the hospital weren't exactly eager to release any of us. You're lucky you aren't going to scar this time and Ron's lucky that after being dispersed like that he didn't suffer any adverse mental affects. Besides, you'll need a potion soon." Saying no more Neville disappeared with a sharp and resounding pop, moments before Hermione emerged.

"What did he mean the healers didn't want to release you?" Hermione asked, her brow furrowing in concern. "You and the others said that your injuries were minor."

"Would you like to stay here for awhile until I can coax some house elves into the light of day and maybe repair the study?" Draco actually didn't want her seeing the singed marks in the floors and on the wall where his mother's wrath had lead her to set them all ablaze. Maybe Weasley was right, and there was also the possibility that after the shock wore off she would leave on her own anyway. Having her close again at the manor only to have to let her go would be difficult if not impossible.

"You mean do I want to take Ron's suggestion and stay here?" Hermione raised a meaningful brow shaking her head. "I knew Arthur was wanting you all to discuss things and so Ginny and I hovered to make sure that the 'discussion' didn't get out of hand."

"He might be right. It might be better if you stayed here until things are sorted out," Draco suggested inwardly fighting the urge to simply grab her hand, Disapparate them both, and never look back at the past events again.

"You'll need me to help you find the elves. They won't come to you, especially after what happened. Now come on do you want to Floo or Apparate?"

Her stubbornness and loyalty were endearing and Draco hoped she wouldn't find them misplaced but he was sure she would. Right now the events were still fresh in her mind and maybe as early as tomorrow she'd see the situation for what it was. She was married to the man whose mother murdered her parents. It wouldn't be possible for her to survive and happily live with him. However, he couldn't let the opportunity pass that if only for the moment she was committed to him, so without another word he Disapparated them home.

The entire manor was silent, almost resembling a tomb. Hermione immediately took off for the study, wanting to see for herself the extent of the damage. She knew they had all lied to her. Draco and Harry winced more than once at the slightest touch, and though Ron ate, his appetite wasn't as ravenous as usual. Even Neville's attitude was somewhat subdued making it obvious they were far more injured than any would let on.

She heard Draco's quick steps following her and he called out for her to stop, but she bolted through the door frightening little Auggy in the process who was circling a particular scorch mark in the floor near the entrance. "Mistress Hermione? Oh, dear, must not be here, must go. Master Lucius come and…"

"Master Lucius is dead Auggy," Hermione explained but her eyes never left the marks on the floor. Fire? Not a one of them had said anything about fire. There had been a barrage of curses they had said and she knew that Draco had been slashed in several places, but no fire had been mentioned.

"Mistress Hermione? Master really dead? Can't hurt Mistress Hermione or Auggy?"

Hermione was about to lean down and assure the elf when it shrieked and hid behind her robes as Draco appeared behind her. "Auggy, it's Master Draco, not Master Lucius. No one's going to hurt you anymore."

"Master Draco still didn't learn better," Auggy mumbled clinging to Hermione's robes. "Mistress Narcissa tell us to make Master Draco learn better. Shouldn't have brought Mistress Hermione here."

"Auggy, it's over now and my mother and father won't be back. You're welcome to leave if you like in fact," Draco explained but was watching Hermione intently. She knew he'd lied and she would be scolding him for it soon.

"Master Draco, not going to get rid of Mistress Hermione? Going to keep her?"

Rolling his eyes with exasperation, and the unintended mention of his inner most fears that she was in fact lost to him now, Draco walked past Hermione and poured himself a drink. "Mistress Hermione stays as long as she wishes. Now, for you Auggy, will you be staying as well?"

"For Mistress Hermione, Auggy stay, Franny too. Mipsy will want to stay, but Mipsy is afraid to come out of the cellar," Auggy said finally letting go of Hermione and facing Draco somewhat. "Master not mad Mipsy scared?"
"Let her know she can stay and when she decides to come upstairs again there won't be any mention of my parents, is that clear. I don't want them discussed in this house ever again," Draco said, slamming the glass he had drained quickly down with a clap against the desk.

"No talk about Master Lucius or Mistress Narcissa. Thank you," Auggy replied, and offering Hermione a timid smile bounded from the room.

"Not hurt badly? Only a few cuts here and there? You were bloody well set on fire weren't you?" Hermione raged striding forward to unclasp his robes, which she could now see were more ragged from singed material than anything else. "Harry's in the same condition I'm guessing. I should Floo Ginny so she's prepared."

"Leave Potter to his wife," Draco said avoiding her after she had thrown his robes aside and was trying to get a better look at his chest. That last thing he wanted was her poking and prodding him like that vicious healer had. When a man's chest is blistering and burnt one shouldn't think it was a good idea to pour all sorts of thick and reeking liquid on them.

"Let me see if there's anything else I can do. I know you're probably a horrible patient and didn't let the healer help you properly," she fussed, pursuing him.

"Leave it be Hermione!" Draco shouted loudly, before he could stop himself. "Just, go upstairs and rest. I'm guessing you didn't sleep all night and that's not healthy for you right now."

Hermione opened her mouth to fight, to disagree, anything, but held her tongue at the last second. He wanted to be alone and Neville had said something about a potion. Maybe he could take that and later when he was in a different mood she could see how badly hurt he was. "All right, but we haven't talked about what happened and I know Arthur said he told us everything, but obviously he left a few parts out," she said, nodding to the large scorched line on the wall to her right. "You're right, I didn't sleep last night. Ginny and I paced, and Molly cooked food that we didn't even eat. Maybe later you should get some sleep too."

She left him then, no longer worried when he became difficult or angry. There was more to what had happened and even though Hermione knew the basic facts, but that was barely scratching the surface. The Ministry had the diary, which honestly was the best place for it, and Snape was in custody even if he had only been following orders and been forced into an impossible situation. The past was revealed, the mystery behind her death threats and the death of her parents was clear. However, the depths of Narcissa's madness would have lasting repercussions, and though Draco wouldn't openly admit it knowing that even in her weakened state his mother had been so determined to control him and kill his wife was a devastating blow.

Resignedly Hermione climbed the stairs to their bedroom and hearing the scurrying of tiny feet she knew the elves were shuffling about, sharing the news of Lucius and Narcissa's departure from the manor. That she would have to remember was something that would be difficult for Draco as well. They had not been loving parents, but they were his all the same and now they were gone. There was no chance to make right the mistakes of the past. That was what he most likely would mourn, what ifs, and what never was.

"I shouldn't be letting you do this," Neville grumbled, for more reasons than simply it wasn't allowed to let anyone from the public speak to a Ministry prisoner. However, he obviously had done so before so what did it matter now. What concerned Neville more was whether or not it was wise for Draco to discuss things with the professor just yet.

"No one's going to know you let me in," Draco sighed, impatiently. "I won't tell that pompous prig Percy it was you."
"That's not what I mean and you now it," Neville countered, stopping in front of a locked room and waving his wand to take down the wards. "You're not up to this yet and what will Hermione say if she…"

"Mrs. Weasley is at the manor so no, Hermione's not alone if that's what you're asking."

"You won't reconsider?"
Judging by the resolute expression on the other man's face, Neville released a sigh of his own and led the way into the room. He really had to stop breaking rules like this, but these extenuating circumstances kept coming up. "Fine, Malfoy have it your way."

Severus Snape was sitting quietly behind a table in the center of a sparsely lit room. The four walls were a sickening shade of industrial yellow and no windows were present. The gangly former professor was hunched over, face down and he did not acknowledge the presence of anyone entering.

"Snape, you have a visitor," Neville announced quietly.

"Send them away." Snape's voice was even more hoarse and dry than normal.

"You don't have a choice. Malfoy, you've got five minutes no more," Neville said, firmly.

At that moment Snape's eyes lifted and some of the hair that covered his face parted slightly as he raised his head. "What exactly are you doing here? Shouldn't you be off nursing your wounds and taking care of that…"

"Why did you let her do it?" Draco asked bluntly, not offering to ease into the conversation.

With a loud sigh of frustration Snape shook his head. "Must we do this with Longbottom present?"
"Longbottom stays," Draco said harshly more to irritate Snape than anything else. "Now, answer me. I deserve that much at least, to know why you let her lose herself like that. I know my father was the worst kind of bastard, but when you saw her receding into her own mind why didn't you do something?"
"Like what? Turn her over to St. Mungo's so the Ministry could probe her mind, weak as it was, and use things against her? They wouldn't have cared if she completely lost all touch with reality and you know it," Snape snarled back.

"You thought you could fix her on your own? For Merlin's sake she was becoming a man she despised and each time she Polyjuiced herself she lost a little more of who she was. You could have been stronger you could have…."

"If you had just given me the diary she would have remembered who she was. I couldn't very well convince her of the fact with no proof!"

Neville shifted uncomfortably and almost stepped forward to suggest that Draco try this another time. Then, the potion's master dropped his head again in defeat and refused to look at them.

"Your mother was broken when I found her after the Ministry raid. They had taken nearly everything from her and she wanted revenge. She would go on and on about how your father would be livid if she didn't do something. Slowly she began to rely on what she remembered, your father's abuse, his absolute power over anything and everything he could touch. I tried to bring her back, I did. I researched a way to pry into her mind and make her see her madness, but everything I could find only mentioned certain cases, no cures. Your mother lost everything when the Ministry came to the manor. After that the only thing that she was accustomed to, the only person who had been a constant so many years, good or bad was your father. You know what numerous curses can do to one's mental state. She was already lost when I found her. It was just a matter of time until her madness chose which path to take. She became Lucius to hold on to something, and in the end she emulated him in everyway."

"That's all you have to say? Nothing else?" Draco snapped, impatiently. This wasn't what he wanted to hear. He needed to know that his mother hadn't meant the things she had said. He needed to hear that in the end she truly wouldn't have killed him or his new family. However, that obviously wasn't the truth. Narcissa Malfoy truly had no knowledge of herself or her own wants and needs.

"I think that's enough for now. Aren't your five minutes up?" Snape said no more after that.

Staring at the professor one last time Draco turned on his heel and stormed from the holding room, Neville in his wake. "I told you that it might be too soon," Neville whispered, before readjusting the wards and locking Snape within.

"All the same, I had to know. There wasn't anything anyone could have done was there?" Draco murmured almost to himself.

"No, there truly wasn't," Neville agreed regretfully, and followed Draco back to the Apparition point outside the Ministry.

Hermione awoke late in the evening having missed lunch, and when she saw that the time was almost eight, dinner as well. The fireplace was slowly dying in the center of the room and she ran a hand through her unruly curls before groaning and getting out of bed to rekindle the flames.

"Mrs. Weasley was here earlier," Draco said from the window but not facing her.

Not surprised or startled that Draco hadn't made his presence known sooner Hermione whispered the words and the flames leapt to life again, instantly warming the room. "Is everything all right? Harry and Ron didn't find anymore trouble to get into did they?"

"No, she came to check on us and insisted on staying until a couple of hours ago. I offered to come get you, but she wanted you to rest. I'm sorry you missed her."

"I can always Floo to The Burrow next week," Hermione yawned, before finishing her statement by raising her arms over her head to stretch. "Have you slept yet?"
"You should go tomorrow," he suggested. "Mrs. Weasley isn't as dreadful as I would have imagined. A bit eager, but she means well."

"I'd prefer to stay home for awhile," Hermione rejoined, feeling filthy and deciding to take a quick shower. She wanted to hurry and catch Draco since he seemed to be in a mellow mood. He might talk about things now, and she had to take the opportunity while it presented itself.

"If that's what you want," Draco replied, casually.

Going about her business Hermione appeared only ten minutes later, not even taking time to perform a drying spell. To her relief and consternation Draco had doused every candle and was in bed asleep. Sighing she was glad to see that he was taking care of himself, but there was the need to discuss the night before. Acting as though nothing happened wouldn't help and she hoped he wasn't intent on trying to take that approach. This time she would have to forget to tread carefully and simply force him to talk to her. There was time for that though in the morning she supposed, and feeling hungry for the first time that day, and knowing the baby would need for her to stay healthy, Hermione stole downstairs to find something to eat.

Breathing a sigh of relief Draco was thankful she believed his attempt to fake sleep and rolled to stare up at the ceiling. After speaking to Molly Weasley he had no doubt that if Hermione needed a family she could not find a better mother in the matronly Weasley. Though the instant he had come upstairs and watched her sleeping his resolve to remain fair and open to the probable outcome that she would need to end their marriage faltered. He couldn't stay near her, see her at home as though nothing had happened, and not simply want to give into the selfish urge to deny her the right to leave it if was what she needed and wanted. His father had kept his mother until it destroyed her and when an image of Narcissa's wild eyes and frantic features assailed him he couldn't imagine letting Hermione suffer the same fate. If you love something let it go. Hadn't some Muggle written that in a poem?

Too many thoughts were colliding with one another in his mind and Draco actually wasn't too far away from falling asleep. Rationally he should have just admitted his concerns to Hermione, and tell her about his visit with Snape. Then his irrational side informed him that then if she stayed he wouldn't know if it was out of desire to do so or pity.

Returning home, knowing that it was over was a relief that much was true. Then came the guilt that he was relieved that his parents were dead. That wasn't healthy was it? To be glad that the people who had given you life weren't there to share it with you? Then again when they had both worked in separate ways to end your life why should you owe them any loyalty? Maybe he was as crazy as his mother he wondered, when sleep finally came over him.

It was freezing in the room again when Draco woke abruptly his arm immediately stretching out and finding Hermione's side of the bed empty and cold. It took great effort, but he ignored his first impulse to go and search for her, deciding to accustom himself to the feeling of loneliness. Uneasily laying back he heard the door to the bedroom open and then close. He was at war with himself as to whether or not to feign sleep again, but decided against it. Foolishly he was glad she had come back upstairs and decided to enjoy her presence for as long as he was able.

"You should have told me about the ladder, and you should have told me about the other notes when I thought most of them had stopped," Hermione began, without offering any indication what she was intending to discuss. "Neville, the twins, Harry, and Ron all knew, but me, the one it affected didn't. No more lies, even under the pretense that you're protecting me."

"Would you have been more careful if you'd known?" he asked incredulously, brining a candle to life with the wave of his hand and sitting up in the bed.

"That's not the point," Hermione huffed impatiently. "The point is I had every right to know."

"All right. I'd say the next time your life is in jeopardy from any charitable activities I'll tell you right away, except I don't intend for there to be a next time. I don't care what injustices you see or how many times you decide that this or that culture is being abused you aren't going to devote your time to anything but quiet, safe charities, understand."

Hermione bristled at the obvious arrogance in the command, but decided against letting him know that she wasn't going to have him order her about. For now she would have to take care of herself and watch her safety. "I Flooed Neville," she said, quietly.

The tension that immediately came over Draco became instantly obvious to Hermione, but she continued. "Those burns and cuts are supposed to be looked at every few hours. The potions will run out tomorrow and the healer specifically requested that you return in the morning so she could check you again. Is there anything you've neglected to tell me? Oh, yes and the fact that your mother nearly killed you. There was mention that she wasn't herself and had thrown some hexes here and there, but Arthur forgot, as did the others, to inform me of that fact."

"She didn't know what she was doing," Draco whispered, not knowing why he was bothering to defend her. It was true though, she hadn't known who she even was.

"No, but that doesn't mean that you didn't know yourself. Your mother pointed her wand at you and tried to kill you. Whether she was in her right mind or not that doesn't make it hurt any less. You've got to admit that and then you can start to forgive her," Hermione said with conviction, knowing that she was dangerously close to pushing him to lose his temper.

"She killed your parents too!" he snarled at her, and the candle light dancing in his eyes intensified the rage she saw there. "Are you feeling generous tonight and plan on forgiving her as well?"

"What I feel for you mother is difficult to explain. I hate her, I pity her, I'm sorry she's dead and then I'm not. It's conflicted and so that's how it must be for you. It's okay to feel all of that."

"Did you suddenly become a mind healer or has Longbottom been filling your head with this shite," Draco snapped, afraid that this would be the last conversation they would ever have and it would be an argument where things would be said that could never be taken back. "My mother was fucking insane and she murdered Muggles, your parents, that barrister, and damn near killed you as well. What do you want me to feel?"
"Whatever you want? If you want to miss her, if you want to hate her then that's what you need to do. What you can't do is simply forget everything and block it out. Something terrible happened last night and no one can take it back. We all can move on and, either become stronger, or let it destroy us," Hermione continued quietly, sitting down on the bed even though she knew he probably didn't want to be close to anyone at the moment.

"You're not going to let this drop are you?" Not, now, and without any way to prepare Draco inwardly groaned. It wasn't fair but here it was, the discussion that would lead to her realizing she was better off taking herself and their child away from the madness of the manor.

"Did you let me ignore it when my parents died?"

"That's hardly fair," he said, angrily. "Your parents were murdered, viciously, left in their own blood for hours until a gardener found them. Don't you remember some of the details?"

"You're not going to shock me into saying or doing something that will make this worse," Hermione whispered, pushing the image of her parents' bodies aside. "Would you like to have a service for her or your father? That might help put things to rest."

"She was killed by an Unforgivable Hermione and my father is a useless pile of bones. What exactly is there to put to rest?"

"There could be an alter, a picture, someone to say some words."

"I'd rather not, just let this go. That's the only way I can manage with this right now. Leave it alone!" It came to him then, the real reason he had so much anger toward his mother when he should have been feeling pity and loss. She had committed the one crime that would take Hermione from him forever, effectively fulfilling his father's wish from the grave, that his wife and son's lives be as miserable as his had been.

"No," Hermione stated with a shrug, and scooted closer to him on the bed. "Now we can keep talking about this while I look at those burns. Burns can be difficult. Cuts, bruises are very easy to manage. Next to growing bones, though I think burns can be the most painful to heal at times."

"I think I agree with you. I don't know what it was but it stuck to the skin and burned almost as much as the fire had," he muttered, giving into her ministrations hoping that it would turn her train of thinking.

"Then the healer knew what she was doing," Hermione announced, pulling back the bandages that were tightly wrapped around his waist and one on his left shoulder. "I can see these haven't been checked. Do you want an infection? The potion to cure that is even more disgusting than the one for the burn and you have to drink it."

"Why aren't you working in a hospital somewhere if you know this much about potions, healing, all of those things?" Keeping her talking about anything else would be better. Draco would even suffer if she tried to poke a little, but only a little.

"It's only a hobby. I'd much rather pursue charities again. Maybe get involved with Muggle-Born rights, something like that. Actually, I remember someone not so long ago offering to let me give money to a Muggle children's hospital if I wanted." For the first time since they had returned home she smiled, even if it didn't quite reach her eyes.

"I wonder who that was," Draco hissed when the bandages pulled away from the flesh that was fresh and pink.

"You can't take it back. I chose to stay married to you and that was one of the enticements if I recall." Hermione frowned, but then nodded approvingly at the newly forming skin. "It's healing well. Whoever saw you last night will be pleased. Now, you are sure you don't want to have a small service for your mother or father? If you don't think that will help maybe you should tell me everything yourself about what happened. It's cathartic to retell something, relive it, and know that it's really over."

"Gods, will you shut up. I don't want to remember my mother, I don't want to give her a proper service, and I don't want to discuss this anymore. This is most likely the last night you'll spend here and I don't want to remember it like this!" The second his outburst ended Draco groaned, and closed his eyes in defeat. She always drove him to lose his temper in someway and most of the time he knew she did it on purpose.

"You made perfect sense up until the part about this being my last night here," Hermione sighed, with aggravation. "We had this fight before, I don't intend to have it again. Now turn over and let me wrap these bandages back. They'll need to be changed tomorrow but we can let the healer do that."

"That's all you have to say?" Draco stared back at her sullenly at how casually she had let his comment slide by her.

"We are discussing your mother, not your obvious attempt to bait me into a fight to make me forget what I want to talk about."

"My mother killed your parents and you don't see anything wrong with staying here?" Was she deliberately provoking him now? No, she couldn't know what he had been dreading, fearing the entire day. Draco's eyes narrowed at her and she truly was as exasperated as he was, but that didn't make the sudden turn of topic any easier.

"Your mother did things that she didn't realize and couldn't remember. Besides, how I choose to deal with that fact is my business. I told you to turn over."
"Someday you're going to look at me, maybe in passing, and you'll see her and remember what she did. Someday you'll know it's too difficult and you'll leave and never look back," he promised darkly, fully believing what he said.

"That's the most daft thing you've said yet and that is a feat in itself." Hermione fell silent studying him and discovered he was completely convinced that he was right. "Gods, Draco if I wanted to leave you for something it would be for your insensitivity, your arrogance, or your overbearing ways, not for something one or both your parents did. You've got enough terrible qualities of your own to try and take on the sins of your relatives. Maybe Neville should hex you because Bellatrix is your aunt and she destroyed his mother and father's sanity."

"I don't fucking care what Longbottom thinks of me, but you're not being rational. This isn't sane, living with the son of the woman who murdered your parents." Despite himself Draco raised up and turned like Hermione had asked, still not convinced she knew what she was saying or thinking.

"You're not being rational," she snorted, but took the opportunity to finish wrapping the bandage back and started on his shoulder. "If I didn't know better I'd think this was a scheme to get me to run away so you wouldn't have to deal with the added responsibility."

"Quit turning my words against me. I was…"

"Feeling sorry for yourself and making assumptions. If I haven't walked away by now you should understand that I wouldn't ever." Hermione finished with the shoulder bandage much more quickly than the other, her temper starting to flare and her patience with him waning. Before when he had winced and exhaled sharply she'd felt sorry for causing him pain, but if he was going to be this dense and inconsiderate then she didn't care.

"I look exactly like them both," he rambled, frowning at her for her less than gentle approach. "One morning you'll wake up and think about all of the terrible things they did and that's all you'll see. You won't see me, but one or both of them and their crimes."

"Well until you started acting like a complete prat again I was going to tell you that all I see when I look at you is the man I love and the father of my child, but I don't think I want to be that nice to you right now." Satisfied that the burns and cuts were healing better than she had expected Hermione rolled to her side of the bed and pulled the covers around her tightly. "Maybe in the morning you'll make more sense."

"You're making this damn difficult to be fair and noble. I'm trying to give you the chance to make a choice and not keep you here. I'm trying to give you something my father never gave my mother, your freedom."

"I made my choice and I'm as free as the day I was born. At any time I could have called your bluff and sent you back to The Ministry, but I didn't. When you lost your temper for no reason about Percy I could have sent you away, but again I didn't. When you were being unreasonable about making peace with the Weasley's and Harry I could have decided it was too difficult, but realized I wanted a life with you more than caring day in and day out about what other people thought." Hermione pounded her pillow once angrily and then settled down again. "Now if you don't have any other rubbish you want to say or ideas about what I want and need then I'd like to get back to sleep."

There was silence from her husband's side of the bed and Hermione didn't know if she wanted to wonder what he was thinking or if it was better when he shared is ignorance with her. The candle was doused and she felt the other side of the bed dip slightly when he stretched to lie down again. Still, there was no response. "I have poured my heart out to you and you say nothing," she raged flipping over furiously. "At least tell me how overly dramatic or analytical I'm being."

"Why bother, you know when you go to far, and I know that it annoys you to no end when no one acknowledges your opinion. Besides, I'm still reeling from the heartfelt declarations," Draco drawled deciding that maybe she meant what she said. He was a conceited arse, most definitely selfish and spoiled, but she had known that, seen it daily and hadn't turned away. Maybe this was what it truly meant to commit your life to someone and honor vows.

"I take it back," Hermione snapped, and tried to turn over again. "I don't mean a word of it now."

"I thought you never said or did anything you didn't mean," he teased preventing her from twisting away by reaching out to trap her with a firm grip on her shoulder. There was no point in making himself into something he wasn't and it was finally apparent that Hermione wasn't asking him to change either. They were both too stubborn and used to getting their own way, but somehow that didn't matter. Twice, without hesitation she'd made it glaringly clear that she intended to stay with him and not let the opinions of Potter and the Weasley's matter. Why was he so concerned? Of course she would have chosen him and would be happy at the manor. There had never been any doubt he assured himself now, arrogantly.

Hermione's eyes became narrow slits and she was instantly suspicious of the superior grin that she could see spreading across his face even in the darkness. "Maybe I should have stayed with the Weasley's if you're going to be this difficult tonight, except I'd have to listen to Harry ranting about how depraved you are."

"No, I've shared you with them enough lately," Draco mused lifting her to straddle him and ignoring her indignant glare. "Anyway, you don't need Potter to tell you how depraved I am. You knew that even before Longbottom brought you to the Ministry so you could proposition me."

"I didn't proposition you," Hermione growled, squirming to get back over to her side of the bed and worrying that her weight would be too much since he was injured. "I had no choice and Neville tricked me. He didn't say it was you and if he had I would have given the money up and found another way."

"Then I suppose I should consider myself indebted to Longbottom for his discretion," Draco continued to smirk back at her. Her struggling was only making her situation inevitable and she had to know that bucking and rubbing against him only intensified his determination. Then again she could be so innocently oblivious at times, which made her more appealing.

"It's the middle of the night and we should be sleeping. You've been hurt and you need your rest," Hermione said as firmly as she was able. He wasn't paying attention to her, trying only once to yank the nightgown over her head before grunting with frustration and muttering something under his breath. The cool air in the room hit her sharply as her clothing landed almost noiselessly beside the bed leaving her completely exposed.

Her outraged gasp was appreciated but disregarded. "I'm feeling much better actually and you shouldn't be so surprised. I could always make you think you were sleeping if that would make this easier for you."

Hermione raised herself up to lean forward and pummel him with a clenched fist and Draco took the opportunity to arch himself up. Then grasping her hips firmly brought her back down, burying himself deeply. "Still want to argue?"

The annoyingly placating drawl shouldn't have made her feel contented, but it let her know that he was comfortable again. By no means would he be forgetting his mother's betrayal, but he was acting as unbearable and endearingly conceited as always, which was a beginning. "This doesn't change the fact that you behaved terribly tonight," she breathed raggedly when he brought her forward, and leaned up to take a rigid nipple in his mouth.

"You can shout at me later," Draco murmured against her skin, then rolled the bud around his tongue. "Then again, I doubt that you can resist from screaming and begging for too long. You're amazingly responsive and you forget to hold yourself back when you're angry."

Intending to refute that statement Hermione pulled back slightly to scowl at him. Instead she eagerly let Draco pull her down until she was completely draped over his body, his mouth hot and insistent upon her own, and her hips rising and falling in a rhythm he was allowing her to create. She didn't feel any embarrassment when without much coaxing she proved how right her husband truly was concerning his prediction.