A/N: Sorry I've seemed to abandon you for the past week, but I was on vacation with the fambly. I've neglected both my updates AND review replies, so I'll take care of the latter reeeeeeally fast and lazy right now by thanking everyone who takes the time to leave a word or ten in that little review box (even if it's a critique). It means so much to me to get those review alerts in my inbox, and I usually do take the time to reply personally to them.

Enough blathering on the part of your author… ooh, except one more thing. I'm also sorry to say that updates might slow down from now on, as the muses are barely granting me trickles of inspiration (yes, I can blame mythical Greek entities for my writer's block if I darn well please!). But I do promise to finish it… eventually! Thank you infinitely for your patience so far.

Finally! Read, enjoy, review!

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Chapter Eleven:

The witness came at tea while Lucius and Hermione were sitting in a small white gazebo, complete with climbing ivy. They were sipping a French tea Hermione had never heard of, one apparently made with violets. She was enjoying the breeze, the afternoon sun, and the fresh pack of cigarettes Malfoy had procured for her. Evidently, that had been the purpose of his first letter (and, as promised, the fags had arrived within the hour).

Since neither of them knew just how public was any information regarding their flight and just who might be looking for them, Hermione had suggested that they Disillusion their appearances while the witness performed her duty as their Bonder. Of course, the witness would notice the charm, but no simple spell – as far as anyone knew, no spell, potion, or object – could mitigate the effect of an Unbreakable Vow.

When the Bonder arrived at the gazebo, having heard voices across the emerald expanse of lawn, she found a rail-thin woman with longish red hair and bulging brown eyes and a tall man about the same age as the other with lustrous black hair but otherwise going rather to seed. Hermione smiled as she pondered what the Bonder thought of their appearances (and the ill-fitting robes which they had found in various closets around the house) and recalled Malfoy's comment when she had completed her modification – that she looked like an unholy offspring of a Trelawney and a Weasely. Just for that, she had Disillusioned him to look like James Potter's portly brother.

"You requested my service as a Bonder for an Unbreakable Vow?" the woman began without preamble. She accepted the cup of tea Hermione offered and explained the procedure and full implications of the vow as they all walked inside the house, again upon Hermione's request. She had her reasons.

As they walked, she asked a bit hesitantly if there were any way they could keep their names confidential. The other woman, who named herself Alise Sevigny, smiled a little and replied that hers was a fairly common request, that the one asking the Vow could whisper the other's name at the appropriate moment. Alise spoke succinctly, without a single superfluous word, but politely. She was a civil servant doing her job as a witness to one of several Wizarding rites which required an observer or other sort of third party. Unlike a marriage, the administering of an Unbreakable Vow did not require any record, something Hermione had been sure to ask Lucius.

"Shall we begin? You two, kneel in the centre of the floor. Take the other's right hand."

As they knelt on a thick carpet in a patch of sun, Hermione reflected that she must be one of very few people to see Lucius Malfoy kneeling, even if he was disguised at the moment. Her mouth was dry as she mentally rehearsed the words she was to say. When her hand touched his, she caught in her peripheral vision a shimmer where the Disillusionment charm fizzed at their contact.

He held her hand like a suitor preparing to kiss his lady's hand or to slip a ring on it. At this close proximity, the charm did not function perfectly, and she could see his grey eyes staring out under the brown eyes she had given him for the occasion. No, not staring, boring into her. His touch was gentle but sure. She felt a thrill race through her.

The Bonder touched her wand to their joined right hands. "Begin," she instructed.

Hermione swallowed and briefly closed her eyes. She would not mess this up because those grey eyes dazzled her. A second later, she opened them and managed a shaky smile at no one in particular before tilting her head so close to his that she could see beneath the transfiguration charm as if it were a physical mask he wore.

"Lucius Malfoy," she whispered, and that damnable thrill coursed through her again at merely pronouncing his name. Never before had she spoken his first name aloud, and it seemed to her that her tongue and teeth and lips wanted to caress the word, Lucius, to taste it and savour its exotic flavour.

Before her mind could pursue that train of thought any further, she drew back and finished her first question. "Will you swear to do no harm to me-" here she leaned forward again and whispered her own name, just so he could not wriggle out by claiming the vow applied to some 'unholy offspring of a Trelawney and a Weasley', "- so long as we dwell in this house, which for the purposes of this Vow, includes when we are physically in the house and when we are not?" The wording was terribly awkward, but it was vastly preferable to sound like a rambling idiot now than to face the tender mercies of the Death Eaters, which was sure to happen if Lucius escaped.

"I swear it," he replied. Hermione watched as a wire-thin strand of bright scarlet shot out from Alise's wand and twisted around their hands, forming a sort of glowing net.

"Will you swear to deliver me into no situation where you know I may come to serious harm, from yourself or from others, so long as we dwell in this house?" That question had been even more difficult to phrase than the first. She had not wanted to force a situation where he would not be able to allow her to leave the house or go to the loo by herself any more than she wanted to leave him room to justify handing her over to Voldemort or his followers by telling himself that he did not know for sure that they would harm her.

"I swear it." His voice, usually confident to the point of lazy, sounded a bit tense. She could see the muscles of his face tighten. Good. It was somehow comforting to know that he was also beginning to feel nervous.

A second glowing wire left the Bonder's wand and joined the first in the complex net surrounding their hands. The two strands were soon indistinguishable in the fine mesh.

"And will you swear to tell me only the truth so long as dwell in this house?"

"I swear it."

The third and final strand of scarlet interlaced with the first two, so they formed a dense weave over their hands. The spell looked as though it was burning their flesh, but all Hermione felt was a tingle in her right hand.

"May no one, no thing, or no force tear asunder what we have promised here today," Alise intoned. The words rang familiar to Hermione… she thought they sounded rather like a Muggle matrimonial blessing.

The scarlet weave settled into their flesh, illuminating their bones and blood vessels a dull red for a split second before fading entirely. Hermione felt something tight settling over her whole body. She had not even sworn anything; she wondered what Malfoy was feeling at that moment. She was disinclined to stand just then, feeling strangely weak after that mental exertion. Lucius showed no more desire than her to stand.

Evidently Alise was accustomed to this reaction to the rite. She concluded her visit with a few bureaucratic formalities; even in the midst of her daze, Hermione noted that the Bonder did not so much as request their names for any sort of record. When Alise left, Hermione and Lucius had not moved from their place on the floor in their patch of sun. As she began to feel a little more like herself, Hermione realised that her knees were protesting vigorously this unusual treatment. She slowly tried to remove her hand from Malfoy's, but he only gripped hers harder.

He raised her trapped hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss on her still-tingling skin before releasing her. When he spoke, it was with that secret little smile. "You were my first, Miss Granger. And you were very thorough."

Well, there was just no right way to respond to that. She stood shakily and brushed imaginary dust from her knees. Nifti chose that moment to rush into the sitting room and ask if they needed anything, more tea or perhaps some of the biscuits her Master loved or the little scones Master Marius liked? Hermione was not hungry but replied that tea would be nice and asked Lucius if he wanted anything. Yes, he also would like some tea and also to be released from the body bind Hermione had cast. Nifti cast a perplexed look at Hermione, who shook her head. Honestly, what pleasure did he take in confusing the poor creature like that?

While Nifti fetched the tea service from the gazebo, Hermione found the wand she had last used to transfigure their appearances. When she returned to the sitting room, she found Malfoy, looking for the world like an uncle of Harry's, sitting on a pale green sofa with some kind of floral pattern. It shifted before her eyes, and she realised that it was cycling through the seasons. She smiled at this example of the luxuries of the Wizarding World she had been missing for months now.

First she removed the transfiguration charms, then the modified body bind. The black hair and flabby body melted away to reveal the figure she knew so well by now. He stood and stretched, not quite smiling but looking strangely… mellow.

"You may not believe this," he said, "but I have absolutely no…" When his voice trailed away, he blinked and frowned.

She raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

He drew a breath and released it. "I have very little desire to kill Ms. Sevigny despite the not insignificant likelihood that she will report to a friend or to a superior the strange half hour she passed her."

Hermione wanted to laugh and settled for a wide grin. He had paused just then because what he had originally tried to say was not entirely the truth. Because of the vow, he was physically unable to tell her even such a minor untruth. Excellent.

"How magnanimous of you." She raised an eyebrow. "And how interesting. Only the truth, from now until…" she shrugged. "I should seize the opportunity while it lasts."

Lucius sat back down and rolled his shoulders before settling in the most casual position she had ever seen him, head thrown back against the sofa cushions and arm flung over the edge. "I cannot lie to you, but I am in no way required to respond to your every query."

"True. We'll start with something easy." Hermione thought back to the past few days as she gazed out the window in the opposite wall. Nifti came in chattering with the tea service and set it on a low table near the sofa. She bowed out when neither responded to her. Hermione definitely felt too lazy to pour herself another cup and imagined Lucius probably shared her sentiment. "Why were you so charming with my flatmates?"

He lifted his head to regard her with a touch of incredulity in his expression. "My dear girl, you have a chance very few people will ever have: Lucius Malfoy is unable to tell you even the slightest falsehood… and you're using this incredible opportunity to ask why I was polite to your friends? I really do wonder what sort of image of me you've built up in your head."

She said nothing, just tilted her head and waited for him to answer her question and tried not to think about how it was he could continue to call her his dear girl. One hand, it was insulting, and on another she felt warmed at those simple words. Mostly, though, it was unsettling.

"As you like. There are generally several motivations which come together in any action I choose or choose not to undertake, but I believe the main factor in my decision was… your inevitable confusion at such conduct."

She had certainly not expected that. "My… you were just screwing with me?" Okay, she had thought of it but had not seriously considered it.

"Think of it any way you like." He shrugged, his head returned to its spot on the sofa cushions. "Oh, it also occurred to me that it was more beneficial than not to maintain your goodwill, and I had not had the opportunity to socialise much recently in any case, but mostly…"

"My confusion."

He pulled his head just far enough up to look her in the eyes when he responded. "You had certainly caused me a good share of confusion a few minutes before."

Damn him. "Right. Listen, about that, you're not…"

"As I said, I'm under no obligation to answer your every question."

"Right." Her eyes fell to the fabric under her hands. "What's that little white flower?"

"Queen Anne's lace."

She twisted her body to peer closely at the flower before it disappeared. Her eyes were wide when she straightened again. "It's not. It's baby's breath."

Malfoy turned his head to look at her for a long moment. She held her breath. "So it is. My mistake."

She exhaled and let her head flop back on the cushions. "Mr. Malfoy, I believe I despise you."

"You're a promising girl, but you must learn to relax if you're to reach a ripe old age and leave as many possible footnotes as you can in the history books."

"Mm." It looked uncomfortable, but she was finding this position quite pleasant. The cushions were firm and plump enough that they cradled her head and neck. Yes, this was very comfortable. Her breathing slowed as she felt part of the load of stress she had been carrying dissipate now that Malfoy was under oath not to harm her or potentially harm her or…

The patch of sunlight had lengthened and lazily crossed a few panels of the carpet when Hermione jerked awake, silent tears streaming down her face. Her breath came in ragged gasps, and her body was racked with convulsive shivers. Lucius, who had also fallen into a doze, twitched awake at the noise.

She did not realise that Lucius was present until he spoke in a low voice. "One of your nightmares?" From the sound of it, he was quite close. That did not help her mood any.

A scathing reply readied itself on her tongue, but she restrained herself. He did not deserve that for his innocent inquiry. "Yes. I hate it. I can only sleep when I'm exhausted to the point of delusion, and even then I'm afraid. Please, you have to know something about this." She lifted her head to gaze at him, eyes wide and pleading.

He laid a hand on her shoulder so she faced him a little more directly. "I swear to you, I know of no spell which could have this effect, not from merely touching her wand."

"No spell," she repeated, "but there must be something. There is something, isn't there?"

He sighed. "Perhaps, but you will not like hearing it."

"Tell me!" It came out almost a shriek, but he did not wince at the sharpness of her tone.

"I have heard of extremely rare cases… it's never been proven, mind you. But one does hear occasionally of people who have…" For a moment, he seemed at a loss for words. "… who appear to have somehow cursed themselves."

She stiffened, and rage replaced the helplessness she had been feeling after her nightmare. "Cursed themselves? Are you saying I did this, that this is all… psychosomatic?" If the circumstances had been different, Hermione would have been amused to note that he looked wary when he made his reply. As it was, she was just annoyed.

"In a sense, yes, but the effect is no less powerful for that. I'm no Healer, as we both well know, so I know very little about the cause or cure for such a case, but that's my only guess." That intensity had returned to his eyes again, and Hermione felt some of her anger melt away. Well, he did not sound like he thought she was nutters.

"It never ceases to amaze me," he continued, "how strong a sway our minds have over our bodies. It may be that your mind is so convinced of the evil taint of Bellatrix's wand that it has convinced itself that you had actually been somehow contaminated by it. The obvious solution is, of course, for you to realise that evil does not come from without but from within, however you look at such matters… but I do not think it will be so easy."

She could not think of anything to say but hiccoughed a little. Of course he was right on one point, in a general sense, but it was impossible right now for her to believe that she had made all this up. How could her mind have created those detailed scenarios, starting with Malfoy's torture? No, there must be something more to her nightmares. Just as he had been able to name the wrong sort of flower because he believed it to be something else, he could have said there was no spell capable of causing these nightmares because he did not know of any.

Her eyes fell to examine her hands, and she shrunk away from his touch. He did sound genuinely concerned, but she did not want the kind of concern that told her she was doing this to herself. Just as she was preparing to make an excuse to leave, he spoke again, and it was from pure surprise that her eyes met his again.

"Shall I tell you a secret?"

She nodded.

"In my heart of hearts, as the saying goes, I've always been convinced that the ability to perform magic derives from strength of character, or rather, than the inability to perform magic results from a weak character. It wasn't the sort of thing people said much even when I was a child, but it's a belief I've never been able to completely abandon. So when I say that that the power of the mind over the body astounds me, I mean that very seriously." He lifted his hand from her shoulder to touch her cheek. "And you, my dear, have an incredible mind."

Finally, she was able to manage a weak smile. "Now, now, flattery won't solve anything."

He smiled back, and she felt a soft warmth steal through her. Now was not the time for that, she tried to tell herself. "You know that I am incapable of telling you anything but the truth, so long as we dwell in this house."

Somehow, he had slid closer to her during that conversation and now was near enough to stir her hair with his breath. He was looking at her in a way very few people had ever looked at Hermione Granger, and when he slowly leaned forward, she knew she was not mistaken about his intent. And as much as she would love to receive some human comfort right now, this might not be the best idea when she was feeling so… unstable.

She ducked her head and nestled it in the curve between his neck and shoulder. This close, she felt him sigh a little and then arrange himself to accommodate her. He patted her hair and wrapped his other arm low around her shoulders.

"Have I told you you're making things very complicated?" he murmured. Although she did not believe for a second that this gesture of holding her was entirely sincere, his quiet strength did have a calming effect on her. A cynical part of her wanted to insist he was only doing this to keep her quiet, but most of her did not care this point what his motivations were. She decided to enjoy this display of sympathy while it lasted and let herself drowse in his arms.