When Hermione returned home, her Father was waiting for her in the library.

"Hello, Angel." He watched with interest as his daughter plopped herself down on the chair across from him with an unhappy scowl marring her face. "I see it went well today?"

"Not funny, Papa."

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Tilting her head back and closing her eyes, she just shook her head from side to side.

"Not right now. I think I'm going to go see if Harry wants to come over."

Pierre chuckled, watching his daughter giving him the stink eye.

"Enjoy yourself." He stood up and made to walk out of the library, before turning back to his daughter and asking, "If by happenstance, the young Malfoy decides to seek you out, what should I tell him?"

"Whatever you want, Father. Far be it from me to dictate where you get your amusement from."

Pierre grinned, but wisely chose to not reply as he left his daughter to stew in her own fury.

Back at Malfoy Manor, Draco came barreling through the floo and yelled 'Tinky!'

A small elf popped into view, her hands shaking as she noted her Master's ire.

"Yes, Master Draco."

"Where are my parents?"

"They are in the library."

Draco threw his cloak at the elf and stormed out of the receiving room, heading straight for the library. For every step he took, his ire only seemed to seethe further into his psyche.

How could Granger have been so...so...

...stubborn and mulish?

Couldn't she see that his questions and concerns were valid!

Yes, she was right that they didn't know if Astoria had the blood curse, but wasn't it better to be prepared?

As he made his way into his family's library, his Mother gazed up with a welcoming smile which quickly turned to a slight frown, immediately noticing the state of pique he was in.

His Father didn't even bother looking up at all, he just drawled out, "I take it your outing didn't end well?"

He huffed, as he sat down somewhat gracefully onto a large black leather sofa and stared morosely at his Father—who didn't seem all that concerned about his own son's precarious state of mind.

"What happened, darling?"

Turning to his Mother, he heaved a deep breath running both hands down his face in consternation, desperately trying to get his thoughts and emotions under some semblance of control.

"I don't know where to start."

Narcissa glanced over at her husband, who was now watching their son with a scowl.

"Perhaps it might be wise to tell us what set off the disagreement between you and Miss Alphonse." Lucius demanded, his bored tone belying his exasperated expression.

He glared at his Father, but his Mother's not so subtle throat clearing had him backtracking a bit.

"We went to Paris to visit Master Flamel," he began succinctly, "and I spoke with him cursorily about Hermione's research. Before I left the Manor this morning, I was briefly waylaid by the portrait of Grandfather Macrinus."

Lucius lifted an eyebrow and drawled questioningly, "The one who entered into the blood contract with Louis Alphonse?"

"The very same." Draco's steely gaze settled on his Father before biting out, "Were you aware that the Greengrass line suffers from a blood malediction curse?"

By the shocked look on his Father's face, Draco was fairly certain his father had no idea.

"No. Did Macrinus share this supposition?"

"Yes, he was courting a Viola Greengrass, when the curse came to his Father's attention. The courtship ended, but not before the details of the curse were shared. Apparently every few generations, a witch from the Greengrass line becomes afflicted with the curse."

"And you surmised that Astoria might have this affliction?" His mother postulated, and he nodded.

"She's never mentioned it. If I had to guess why, I tend to believe she doesn't know."

"Or she does, but since she hasn't developed symptoms, perhaps believes she is spared." Lucius pondered aloud.

"She turns of age this December, yes?" Narcissa inquired and he nodded again.

Both his parents shared an unfathomable look, causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand to attention.

"Draco," his Mother stood and walked over, resetting herself next to him as she gently patted his hand soothingly, "hereditary blood curses in most cases, don't activate until a witch or wizard becomes of age."

Paling slightly, Draco realized what his mother was telling him.

"So Tori, if she does have the curse...will likely become aware of it soon?"

"Yes." Narcissa hummed in the affirmative. "My guess is that some time this summer, before she returns to school—Randolph will probably have a sit down with Astoria. Daphne must already know, as I can't imagine either of her parents would've allowed her coming of age without some preparation. You may want to start there."

He realized his Mother was likely spot on. If anyone knew whether or not Tori was aware of the curse...it would be her older sister, Daphne.

"That doesn't quite explain the state you were in when you entered the library, Draco." Lucius reminded him. "Obviously something happened with your intended?"

"I don't understand that witch!" He sneered, "She's just so...ugh!"

"Did you argue?" His Mother queried softly.

"Yes." Shaking his head, he threw his head on the back of the sofa and took to staring at the library ceiling, not exactly wishing to see the expressions of judgement on either one of his parent's faces. "I went to pick her up for our outing, and we had a rather pleasant conversation, I suppose. I was very nearly late, and I had to explain why that'd happened. I shared with Hermione what Macrinus told me, and she was sympathetic...or so I'd thought."

"I don't understand?" Narcissa asked with a measure of exasperation in her tone, "How wasn't she understanding?"

So he explained to his parents what had occurred in Paris. His conversation with Master Flamel, and Hermione's reaction afterwards. When he was done, there was a complete—deafening silence for several minutes and when he realized his parents weren't going to speak, he sat back up and noticed his Father's disbelieving sneer and his Mother's pitying look.

"What?"

"Oh, my Dragon. You really are rather obtuse at times, aren't you?"

"Excuse me, Mother—but what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means, Son," his Father interrupted, with a scathing drawl, "that Miss Alphonse, despite your past assignations, has chosen to give you a measure of trust by allowing you to be privy to something intensely personal to her, and without so much as discussing it with her beforehand—you made the rather bold assumption due to her past shall we say, bleeding heart tendencies; that she would be willing to focus the fruits of her labors on a witch with whom you have a dubious romantic history. Or did I miss something?"

He just stared at his Father sullenly, as he processed those words.

"I would have to agree, my Dragon." Narcissa sighed, and his head turned sharply towards his Mother, "You may not have done so with the design to expropriate Miss Alphonse's research, but you did make the assumption, did you not?"

Well, when his Mother put it that way...

"I wasn't trying to be thoughtless, Mother."

"No, that just comes naturally." His Father replied dispassionately.

"Lucius!" His Mother admonished, but she clearly must've agreed cursorily, because there was no heat behind the word.

"Hermione accused me of being in love with Astoria." He admitted stiltedly.

"I would imagine from her perspective, it would likely seem that way..."

"...and she's probably with Mr. Potter as we speak." Lucius finished Narcissa's sentence, with a deepening scowl settling over his aristocratic features.

He paled instantly, as he'd not considered that possibility.

"Do you really think?"

"I would tend to agree," Narcissa shook her head at her stubborn son, "and I'm sure Mr. Potter will be far more understanding than you were today."

Well...Fuck...

Perhaps he needed to try and fix this...

At Hermione's home, Harry had come through the floo to find his best friend wearing a hole through the rug while she paced in front of him, her head down and mumbling to herself for several minutes completely unaware of his presence. He watched her closely, and could see how agitated she was.

"Hermione?"

Nothing...

"Hermione?"

More pacing...

Slowly, he made his way into her path and chuckled when Hermione slammed into him, her eyes coming up to lock with his in surprise.

"Oh...Harry! When did you get here?"

"A few minutes ago." Placing his hands on Hermione's shoulders to stop her from pacing, he cupped her cheek in greeting. "You okay?"

"Not really."

"Okay?" He tilted his head in worry. "Did something happen with Malfoy?"

"Other than he's a git?"

"Well, we've known that for years." He wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulders, and together they left the floo room and headed towards the back of the Ville. "What did he do this time?"

So, she explained what had transpired and how she'd handled it, and to Harry's credit, he listened and didn't comment until she was done speaking.

But when he did, Hermione was floored.

"I'm not sure I can exactly blame the ferret."

"What?!"

"Hermione, come on, love? I'm sure he cares for Astoria, and he was kinda hit for a huge loop, right? I can't imagine it's easy to find out the witch that you'd seriously considered to be your future, may not have one. That's gotta be tough."

"You're taking his side?"

Harry shook his head as they walked into the indoor pool area, and he set the bag down that had his swimsuit in it.

"No. I'm just saying that he probably wasn't thinking too clearly. We both know that Malfoy has always been a selfish git in many ways—but when it comes to people he truly cares about, he'll do anything for them. If I was him and Astoria was you...I'd do whatever I could to try and figure out a way to help you."

She instantly deflated as she pondered Harry's words, while he pulled her down into his lap—sitting on a lounger near the pool. "Is there some other reason you reacted like you did?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well..." he paused, "I don't believe it was out of jealousy, because your dynamic with Malfoy has never been based on anything remotely romantic..."

"You've got that right."

Harry's lips quirked in amusement at Hermione's sarcastic tone...

"But perhaps it has more to do with insecurity?"

"Excuse me?" She bristled, causing Harry to cup her face tenderly, his thumbs caressing her cheeks soothingly.

"Your history with Malfoy isn't positive at all. You both have done some rather mean and cruel things to each other, but in your case, it's been in defending yourself of his actions. He's made truly hateful comments to you in the past and despite how tough I know you are, love, words hurt no matter whom they come from. Especially when that's all you've ever gotten. Now you're going to be married to the ferret. You're trying to find something good in him, and I do think it genuinely surprised you that you discovered that Draco Malfoy, actually has a heart under all that bigotry. When he was just a hateful prat, it was easier to dislike him—but knowing that he has the capacity for something selfless...it confuses you."

She carefully pondered Harry's words for a few moments, feeling his thumbs continuing their path along her cheeks as he waited for her response.

"I know he took the Dark Mark to save his Mother, but there was still a large part of him that believed in all that rhetoric too, Harry. Draco Malfoy is not a good wizard."

"You've never seen him in that way, and it's not something any of us saw, love—but he's not evil. He lowered his wand up on the Astronomy tower, he didn't identify me at Malfoy Manor. Yes, he's a bully and a braggart, and many other things that a witch like you would never choose..."

"But..."

"Yes, isn't there always? But...I think he showed you today that his personality isn't as black and white as you'd assumed, and part of you greatly resents that fact. You were angry at him, not because he'd assumed, but because of your history. He didn't consider your feelings and that made you go back to that gut check reaction of when he tried to make you feel lesser than. He's likely never considered your feelings at all, but especially when he was being a first class git. Whether or not he got off on your pain, I can't say. I tend to think he's probably that clueless."

"He told me today that he didn't have the luxury of choice. That he was bound to play his part."

"Do you believe that?"

"I don't know what to think or believe where Malfoy is concerned."

Harry hummed, as he gazed thoughtfully over Hermione's shoulder up towards the ceiling...the water's glare, reflecting off the masonry as the light made its way through the floor to ceiling windows.

"I think we should table this for now and enjoy our day."

She nodded eagerly. "I think that's an excellent suggestion." Glancing over her shoulder she jutted her chin in the direction of the pool. "Swim?"

"Sure."

"Let me go get into my swimsuit and I'll meet you back here in a few minutes. There's a changing room over to the right, behind the door near the hot tub."

"Sounds good."

He helped Hermione to her feet and grinned as she dashed out hurriedly. He grabbed his bag, and headed for the changing area, surprised again at how opulent everything was. It was still a bit disconcerting to see how different Hermione's life was from what he'd thought, but it wasn't so difficult that he couldn't get on board with it.

He'd do anything for her.

Once he'd changed into his swim trunks, he walked back out to the pool area and set his glasses down next to a lounger near the hot tub, and decided to check the water temperature of the pool. Going over to the steps, he dipped his toe in and smiled at the perfect temperature of the water. Not too cold, but just cool enough to be refreshing. Following the steps down into the shallow end, he sucked in a quick breath when the water hit his waistline and it took a moment to readjust himself. He guessed that the pool was probably a good twenty meters long and about ten meters wide. The ceiling was probably forty meters high and had a glass roof to take advantage of the night sky as well as the sunshine. There was a diving board at the far end, as well as a curved slide that fell into the deeper end of the pool. Where he was standing was probably a meter deep, but he could see that the far end was probably three to four meters deep.

Diving under the water, he swam towards the far end and broke water about five meters from the end of the pool when he heard Hermione's voice calling his name.

He swam over towards the pools edge and turned around, squinting before he rubbed his eyes slightly and pulling his hair back with his other hand. Hermione was walking along the edge towards where he was, and after a second he was finally able to get a better look at what she was wearing, and his eyes widened appreciatively at her attire.

He simply couldn't help the wicked smile that formed on his face, and he could well imagine he was leering openly but frankly, he didn't give a rats arse.

She was stunning!

"You're staring." Hermione quipped, her tone playfully admonishing which only caused his grin to widen.

"I'm not going to apologize." He bantered back. "That's some bikini you have on."

And fuck all, if it wasn't the sexiest thing he'd ever seen!

It was red with tiny white polka dots...the top was two small triangles of barely there fabric, separated by circular appliqué while the bottoms were tiny boy shorts and when Hermione turned to set her towel down, his eyes widened at her backside—which basically left the lower part of her pert cheeks exposed.

"Fuck!" He growled out lowly, but apparently his singular word was still loud enough for Hermione to hear him, if her tell-tale blush was anything to judge by.

When her gaze locked with Harry's, his expression had morphed from playful to lustful, causing her blush to deepen even more noticeably.

"You're really staring." She quipped again, in a husky tone, and to his credit...he just grinned lecherously as he replied, "You're beautiful."

"Really?"

The word came out as a squeak, but there was also a questioning tone that Harry didn't like. Almost if Hermione thought she was undeserving of such praise.

"Yes." His response was quick and firm, leaving absolutely no doubt in his conviction. "But if you don't get yourself into this pool immediately, I might have to come out there and throw you in."

He watched his best friend's gaze narrow for a split second before she ran and launched herself into the pool, cannonball style as she doused him with water, the sounds of his laughter filling the room as Hermione surfaced with a wide smile.

He didn't waste a second in swimming over to her and enveloping her into his arms, bringing his lips down to meets hers in a searching kiss.

She could feel her heartbeat quicken as she allowed Harry to take control of the kiss as he moved them both to shallower water, her arms and legs wrapped were around him while her hands gripped into his wet hair tightly.

Harry for his part, had one hand cupping Hermione's chin while the other had a firm grip on her arse cheek as he rocked her into his body, his erection now fully at mast as he continued to pour his emotions into the kiss.

When air became a necessity, they both pulled back simultaneously with a shared gasp—though their lower halves continued to move against each other in a languorous push and pull.

Gazed were locked, and no words needed to be spoken between them. It seemed as if they instinctively knew what the other was thinking and feeling. Harry's heated gaze lowered to the swell of Hermione's chest as her tits bobbed above the water as he pushed her up against him and he cocked an eyebrow before lowering his head and nipping at a pebbled nipple through her swim top.

Her breathy whine of his name, had him chuckling but once he was able to nudge the barrier down—and his mouth attached to its preferred unobstructed destination...her moans only got that much more vocal.

Which was making things very hard for him...

So lost were the two of them in their own little world, they didn't notice that they were no longer alone until an angry voice cleared its throat and spoke out frostily...

"Am I intruding?"

Harry immediately turned his body to offer Hermione some modesty so his back was to Malfoy, and he could feel the irate gaze of his nemesis as Hermione quickly pulled her bikini top down—covering herself once again. When her eyes met his...there was surprisingly—amusement behind her gaze, and his lips quirked into a lopsided grin before they both turned simultaneously to their unwelcome intruder.

"Malfoy." Harry's voice held a warning edge, which wasn't missed by the two other people in the room. "And yes...you were intruding."

"I'm so sorry, Potter! Had I known you were illicitly engaged with my intended, I would've made sure to announce myself more appropriately."

Draco's words were dripping with venomous sarcasm, but Hermione could detect a note of something else underneath his tone, that she couldn't identify. Deciding to ignore it for the moment, she swam over to the edge of the pool and lifted herself out on the ladder there, purposefully not looking Malfoy's way, but Harry didn't miss the look of astonishment on the blonde's face as the length of Hermione's body came into full view.

Then iced grey eyes locked with his, and Harry couldn't help the smug grin that fell over his face.

"Why are you here, Malfoy?" He asked evenly.

"That's none of your business, Potter."

"You weren't invited, ferret, so I'm making it my business."

Draco's hands clenched and he was about to offer a scathing reply, when they both heard a heavy sigh coming from the other end of the pool. When Draco glanced up, Granger was shaking her head as she gripped her towel and began to dry the ends of her hair.

"Harry's right, Draco. I wasn't expecting you."

"Forgive me for wanting to come by and speak with the witch I'm betrothed to."

Harry snorted, but one single glare from his best friend had him clamping his lips shut.

"You couldn't have owled me?"

"Yes, I suppose I could've, but after what happened today, I'd figured it would be better to have this conversation in person. I wasn't expecting to walk in on what I just did."

Draco watched as Hermione methodically glided over and set herself down in the lounger across from him, her head cocked to the side as she considered him. Her expression was closed off, and if he were honest, it was quite disconcerting, as he'd been so used to seeing Granger at Hogwarts and how fiery and expressive she was in everything.

In some ways, he felt like he was now dealing with a completely different witch.

"Are you looking for an apology?" She finally asked, and he visibly bristled at her brittle tone.

"Would you offer me one if I was?"

"No."

"Then I won't waste my breath."

In the background, Harry scoffed again and Hermione turned her head and said, "Why don't you go get changed, Harry."

The Boy Who Lived nodded, and did just that...while Draco watched him leave with a heavy frown on his face.

"So," he began after Potter disappeared behind a door, near what looked to be a smaller pool of some kind, "you've made up your mind already, I take it?"

She didn't immediately reply, as she was mulling over Draco's words. She didn't know what she wanted exactly, but she also knew that she didn't want to be forced into a loveless marriage.

"Malfoy...Draco..." she flinched slightly at the scowl on Draco's face, "our history isn't going to fade away overnight. You obviously care more about Astoria than you're willing to admit to, and Harry and I...well, it's complicated. He's important to me, and I love him. He's my best friend."

"And you're in love with him?"

She bit her lip in contemplation, as even she didn't know how to form the words for what she and Harry were.

"This is so difficult..."

"Really?"

"Yes." She bit back at his disbelieving tone, but then the far door opened and Harry walked through it—his gaze locking with her's and he could see the discomfort in her body and feel her distress from where he was standing. Sauntering over, he ignored Malfoy's glare and sat down next to his best friend.

"What are we discussing?"

"We," Draco pointed between himself and Granger, "were having a private conversation."

Harry's green eyes glinted like chipped ice as he stared Malfoy down, but Hermione's soft voice broke him out of his ire.

"Malfoy wants to know if we are in love with each other."

"Ah." Harry nodded, his own body now tense. "And what did you tell him?"

"I haven't. You walked out and, well..."

Nodding, Harry could well imagine how awkward the conversation had gotten before he'd interrupted. Deciding to spare Hermione from having to break any confidences, he turned to Malfoy directly and spoke...

"I love Hermione and she loves me. What we have is hard to explain, Malfoy. Sharing a tent for a year, being on the run...sharing a wand..." Draco's eyes widened, and then he glanced at Granger for confirmation, seeing her nod sheepishly, which caused him to sit back stunned...

"Salazar! That's not common."

"No, it's not." Hermione agreed readily. "We had no choice. On Christmas Eve last year, Harry and I went to Godric's Hollow to look for the Sword of Gryffindor. Ron had abandoned us by that point, and we had no idea it was even Christmas until we'd arrived and heard singing inside the church. We were attacked by Nagini, and barely escaped with our lives but Harry's wand was badly damaged when my spell deflected off the snake. We shared my wand for a couple months until Ron returned, and then we were captured later—and you know the rest."

Draco nodded, tilting his head down in shame as he didn't need to be reminded of what happened over last Easter in his home, nor the fact that he stood by and watched his future wife being tortured by his insane aunt.

"I am sorry, you know." He said slowly. "I didn't know how to..."

"Please don't." Hermione interrupted shakily. "I'd rather not discuss that day, if that's alright."

"Hermione..." Harry's voice was soft and filled with worry, but she just shook her head emphatically.

"We can't change it, Harry—and I wouldn't, if it meant you defeating Voldemort. The truth is if we hadn't been captured, we would've never discovered the location of the cup and you would've never had another opportunity to..."

"Okay..." he concluded sharply, with a nod. "I get it."

Draco gave them both a curious look, knowing instinctively he was missing something important but decided to let it go for the time being. Potter was side-eying him too, the Boy Wonder's expression held a warning edge to it.

"Anyway..." Hermione continued after a brief moment of stilted silence, "the bond Harry and I share is something that can't easily be explained."

"So maybe not a soul bond."

"Why do you ask that?" Harry wondered, but Hermione's eyes widened in sudden understanding.

"Because if it were—it would likely negate my betrothal to Draco. A soul bond pretty much is the highest order of bonds...higher than even marriage Wizarding bonds."

"How would we know if that's what we're dealing with?" Harry queried, not fully understanding how that would be determined.

"A true soul bond leaves a mark or rune upon the individuals, usually once the bond is consummated but that's not always the case. In some readings, mated pairs can't be away from each other for long periods of time either, and magical cores can align."

"Do cores have to align to share a wand?"

"I honestly don't know." Draco admitted, as he stared down at his Hawthorne wand with a deep frown. He then glanced over at Potter's wand, which was the Holly wand he'd had from before. "You repaired your wand? How?"

"The Elder Wand."

Draco's eyes widened, as he hissed in a shocked breath.

"Merlin! I had wondered what happened to it. Was what you said to the Dark Lord true?"

"Yes." Harry replied, unequivocally.

"I noticed my Father returned your wand to you, Hermione?"

She nodded. "He brought it over the day he told my Father and myself, about the betrothal."

Draco gazed back down to his wand and silently handed it over to Hermione, the look on her face was priceless as she was completely caught off guard.

"What?" She blurted, and Draco shook his head.

"Potter gave me back my wand after the battle."

"He told me he was going to."

"Potter and I have both used this wand, we both for a time were masters of the Elder Wand. I'm curious just how far that extends."

Glancing over at Harry, he had a contemplative look on his face.

"Ollivander said the wand chooses the witch or wizard."

"True." Draco nodded. "Allegiances can change as you know, but in some cases a wand will refuse to bend to the will of its new master."

"Bellatrix's wand." Hermione whispered, and Harry nodded in understanding.

"It never did work properly for you."

"No, it didn't."

"But my Hawthorne wand worked for you Potter, right? And Hermione's Vinewood wand did as well, correct?"

"Yes. Not as well as my Holly wand, but well enough."

"Have you ever used Potter's wand?"

Hermione shook her head. "There was never a reason to." She stared at Draco's outstretched hand that still held his wand aloft. "You're thinking your wand may recognize me?"

"If what I'm thinking is right, then yes—I'm thinking it will."

Biting her lip, she set her wand down and reached for Draco's wand hesitantly—but the minute she closed her hand around the base...a warm feeling shot up her arm and she gasped in shock as silver sparks shot out from it.

"Cast a spell." Draco said softly and watched as Granger lifted his wand and conjured a flock of canaries seamlessly—her eyes alight with wonder. Once she vanished the birds, she handed him back his wand and picked up hers, silently returning the courtesy. Draco took it instantly and felt a tingling sensation pull in his gut, so he didn't waste anytime casting an avifors, turning the chair next to him into an bird and smirked as the spell felt nearly as effortless from Hermione's wand as it had from his own.

Potter was frowning, but he silently handed his wand to Hermione and watched in bemusement as she repeated the same spell as before...her canaries coming out white instead of yellow this time. When she was done, she glanced at Harry and he nodded. Gently handing it over, Draco gripped Potter's wand and felt the power of his nemesis wand shoot up his arm. He cast the counterspell on his transfigured bird and though it didn't feel quite as effortless as it had with Hermione's wand, it had worked.

When he was done, Draco handed Potter his wand and watched as Harry instantly cast a Patronus like it was nothing, and he couldn't help but feel jealous of the innate magical power that Potter wielded.

But that aside, he suddenly realized they had a larger issue at play.

"This complicates things." He said lowly.

"What does it even mean?" Potter asked in confusion, looking to Hermione who was lost in thought, her eyes glazed over.

"I need to head back to the Manor, but if I'm right..." Draco began hesitantly, "this is larger than just my betrothal with Hermione."

"Draco!" Hermione stood up as he did, and placed her hand on his arm to stop him. "You can't just leave it like that!"

"Hermione, I don't know if my hunch is correct and I'd rather not speak out of turn again, so you'll just have to be patient."

Harry stood up too, and glared at him, but Draco didn't flinch or back down. He just gently removed Hermione's hand from his arm and walked out of the pool house, leaving two very confused people staring after him.