Hermione tried to distract herself from her pain and continuing decline in health by keeping busy helping Colby and Biddy decorate the manor for Christmas. She did her best to hide behind her smiles and enthusiastic instructions. Underneath the surface she was all too aware that her health was quickly declining. The thing that was most distressing to her was the fact that she was beginning to realize that her mind was being affected. The last week had proven frustrating for her as she had several moments when she had felt a bit confused and forgetful. Silly things like decorating the banisters on the staircase, and then the next morning telling Biddy that they would focus on the staircase that day; having forgotten that she had completed that task the day before. She had to struggle to even recall any memory of having done it. This development made her worry what else she may start to forget. Her mind had always been one of her most prized traits. A huge part of who she was had to do with the vast knowledge she had acquired through her studious nature. The thought of literally losing her mind caused her a great deal of stress. Her thoughts turned to Neville's parents. She knew they had been exposed to the Cruciatus curse for too long and had gone mad. It had happened all at one time. But her brilliant brain reasoned that the same could happen to her over a longer period of time with shorter bursts of exposure to the same curse. Was this the beginning of it? She tried not to think too much about it. At times she found her mind could only focus on the simple task of walking despite her quaking muscles. The last week had brought with it four more attacks. Her levels were at 44% and she felt it. At the moment she was sitting in the study stringing popcorn. A gentle smile touched her lips as she remembered years of stinging popcorn with her mother as a child. A touch of sadness entered her heart every time she thought of the parents she had that no longer remembered her. She took a deep breath and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. Her eyes went to Biddy, who was dancing around a rather large tree using her magic to place glistening ornaments to the top of the tree. Hermione turned her head toward the doorway when she heard footsteps. Her mouth turned up into a smile when her eyes met Harry's.

"Wow! What do we have here? You sure that tree is big enough?" Harry teased as he made his way to his wife.

"Oh, do shut up! It is glorious and you know you love it," Hermione replied with a smile. "Besides, Biddy has spent a lot of time making sure the ornaments look just right. She deserves your praise."

Harry turned to the little elf and said bowing said, "Biddy I bow to your expertise in tree decorating. It is prefect."

At this praise the little elf blushed furiously and said squeakily, "Master must not bow to Biddy! I is just helping Mistress decorate for the holidays. I is enjoying it very much, Sir."

"Well, I am glad. Though I stand by what I said, it is very well done," Harry replied.

"Indeed it is," Hermione agreed. "I couldn't do it without you Biddy."

"I is happy to help! The Manor must be looking impressive for the party," Biddy said excitedly.

Harry smiled at that and then turned to his wife and taking some popcorn from the bowl beside her asked, "And what have we here? Popcorn?"

Hermione gave a small laugh at his surprised and slightly confused look. "It was a family tradition of mine. Growing up my mother and I strung popcorn and used it as a garland on our tree. Though, I confess that a good amount of it often ended up in my mouth." At this she popped a few pieces into her mouth with a lofty and unashamed look that made Harry chuckle.

Harry bent and kissed her on the cheek. "Sounds like a fabulous tradition. May I help?"

"Only if you promise to string more than you eat!" Hermione replied with a smirk.

"I shall do my best," Harry smiled and sat on the floor near her feet. He picked up some string and began carefully putting popcorn on it. He didn't last long before he started to pop some into his mouth. His stringing efforts often resulted in broken kernels and he popped those in his mouth as well. After only a few minutes Hermione's voice floated over him.

"My dear, I don't think this is your thing."

Harry looked up at her and saw her amused smile. "Perhaps you are right." He set down the string and taking her small foot in his hand he began to slowly peel off her sock. "I think my efforts would be better spent elsewhere. As I'm on the floor I think this foot could use some attention." He saw the soft smile Hermione gave him and placed a small kiss on her calf before beginning to gently massage her foot. He was pleased to hear her sigh in obvious pleasure. They sat in silence for a time. Hermione stringing popcorn while as Harry used his fingers to caress her feet. Not long after he started massaging her other foot he looked up to find her head resting on the side of the chair and her eyes closed. Her breathing was deep but slightly wheezy. He looked down at her hands and saw them slightly trembling even in as she slept. He let his eyes travel her body taking in her condition. Harry couldn't help the slight frown that tugged at the corners of his mouth. His heart ached watching the love of his life sleeping there. She was too thin, her face too pale. Her eyes were rimmed with dark circles. Despite all the sleep she got she was constantly tired. He knew she was trying to put on a good show by staying happy, smiling and keeping busy. Times like this though, times when it was quiet and he could simply observe her he was disturbed by what he saw. Even in sleep her brow was somewhat furrowed with what he knew was a deep ache. Madam Pomfrey had been correct as well, Hermione had had several moments of dizziness. Harry rose from the floor and pushed back a curl from Hermione's cheek. She didn't stir. He rubbed her shoulder lightly. "Hermione? Hermione, let's go to bed love. Can you wake up a bit?" He watched her eyes flutter open slightly and a small smile graced her lips. "Come on dear, I think popcorn stringing is done for tonight."

Harry watched her head loll to the side and she lazily looked up at him, sleep still fogging her eyes. Her quiet voice reached him. "My mom and I used to string popcorn." She yawned, "It's a tradition." Harry began to help her stand. His heart dipped at her words knowing she probably had forgotten that she had already told him that earlier. Knowing she was half asleep he took her arm and began guiding her toward the stairs. "It's a lovely tradition my dear. But I think it's time for bed."

"It's your fault I fell asleep. Your foot massage was too good," Hermione said softly, leaning on him even more.

Harry smiled at that and he was glad she remembered that bit of their evening. He noticed that she was moving slowly and that a tremor ran through her, causing her to sway. He quickly put his hand under her legs and swung her easily into his arms. He was disturbed by how light she was. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. Harry carried her to their room and laid her gently on the bed. He used his wand to transform her clothes into soft pajamas and tucked her in under the covers.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered.

Harry kissed her lightly on the lips. "Goodnight my love."

"Love you."

Harry kissed her forehead and was pleased to find it wasn't warm. "I love you too."

Hermione was trapped. She was pinned to the floor, Bellatrix carving another letter into her arm. She tried to get away but her body wouldn't obey her. The weight that was holding her down was suddenly gone, and before she could even take a full breath her body erupted into fire. She was aware of a horrifying scream that pierced her to the core unaware that the sound came from her own lips. For a moment her senses seemed to turn off completely. Then it was over and Bellatrix was on top of her again, the knife making her bleed more. She begged her to stop but it only made things worse. As another scream began to surface she heard a different voice. It was familiar but seemed far away. She was trying to understand it but her body was sluggish to respond.

Harry rolled over, half awake, when he heard Hermione's harsh breathing. He immediately scooted toward her. He cast a wandless Lumos that lit the room in a soft glow. Hermione thrashed about and just as he was registering what was happening she let out an anguished scream. Harry jumped up and quickly took her in his arms trying to sooth her and wake her from her dream. "Hermione! Hermione, it's alright. I'm right here. You're safe." He watched her closely but her eyes didn't open and her breathing remained erratic. He felt her tense and he quickly shook her, speaking more loudly, "Wake up Hermione. Come on. I'm right here. You're safe. Wake up. I've got you." He saw her eye lids flutter and continued his mantra, holding her tightly. "That's it. Wake up. I'm here Hermione. It's alright." Her eyes finally opened and she abruptly sat up breathing heavily. "Whoa, whoa, it's alright," Harry said as he pulled her into his chest. "Just breath for me. That's it. It was just a dream." He felt her breathing begin to slow even as her body shook against him, whether out of residual fear or from the damage to her nerves he wasn't sure. He heard a small sob escape her lips. "Shh, shhh, it's aright my love. I've got you." After several minutes, she seemed to calm down.

"I couldn't move. She was holding me down…the knife…then she…" Hermione's voice trailed off.

Harry immediately understood what she was referring to. How long would Malfoy Manor haunt her? The unfortunate answer was that it probably always would. She had a permanent reminder of her time there etched into her forearm. He looked down to find her holding the arm in question, her fingers rubbing at the scar. He quickly took her hand and pulled it away. "You're safe now."

"It hurts."

Harry barely heard her. The words were short and quieter than a whisper but they cut him to the center. She was not only referring to the pain she had felt years before from the attack she had endured but was confessing the pain that she was currently feeling, even as she sat cuddled in his arms. He held her closer and felt her tears wet his nightshirt. Starting to get up he said, "I'll be right back with some potions."

As he moved away from her he felt her cling to his shirt, begging, "Please don't go."

Harry kissed her on the head and gently settled her on his pillow. "I'm not leaving. I promise. I'm just going to the bathroom. I'll be right back." He watched her nod slowly before he quickly went and grabbed a calming potion, as well as a pain potion. Harry helped her drink the vials and physically saw her body sigh in relief. He quickly climbed back into bed, embracing her once more.

"Thank you," Hermione said softly.

"It's alright love. Just rest now. I'm here," Harry cooed. He was pleased that she settled further into the curve of his arm and that her breathing was even. He still felt the slight shaking of her hands but he also felt her body relax against his. Within minutes Harry was sure she was asleep again.

However, it was not meant to be a peaceful night. A couple hours later, at what Harry later discovered was 4am, the pendant burned against his skin, waking him harshly. He immediately sat up to find Hermione tense and convulsing beside him. Her eyes were closed and her jaw was clamped down tightly. Harry took her awkwardly arched body in his arms and was alarmed to find that she was holding her breath. He watched her gasp as an anguished cry escaped her lips. She gasped once more but did not exhale as her body quaked violently. As suddenly as it began it ended and Harry sat with the limp body of his wife in his arms. He watched her exhale slowly and anxiously waited to hear her next breath, which was slow in coming. Blood ran from her nose. He held her for a moment while he observed the shallow rise and fall of her chest. He had come to observe that her breathing had become more labored with each attack. He blinked back his own tears and bent to kiss her lightly on the forehead. Not wanting to leave her he whispered, "Biddy?" In less than ten seconds the little elf popped into the room looking slightly drowsy.

"Master called?"

"I am so sorry to wake you Biddy. But Hermione has had another attack. Can you fetch her potions?" Harry pleaded in a husky voice.

At this news the little elf jumped into action squeaking, "I is being right back Sir!"

Harry held his unconscious wife as aftershocks rocked her muscles. Biddy retuned quickly and the potions were administered. "Thank you Biddy. You may go back to sleep. Sorry again for waking you so early."

"No, no. Biddy is happy to help Mistress. I is always here to serve. When is Master wanting breakfast today?" the elf asked.

Harry shook his head, "Not for some time. I may sleep past breakfast to be honest. It has been a trying night. Hermione will probably sleep most of the day. Don't worry about fixing anything for now."

Biddy bowed, "I will check on you two later. Get some sleep Master Harry."

"Thank you Biddy," Harry smiled. The little elf popped out again and his attention again returned to Hermione. Harry had already wiped away the blood from her nose but her eyes were sunken and dark. Her cheeks were a bit flushed though and he was disturbed to find her temperature at 102. Getting a cold, wet cloth, he gently placed it on Hermione's forehead. He cast a cooling charm and took her temperature again. The new reading was 101 degrees. Sighing, Harry laid down. Despite his concern for his wife his eyes felt like lead and he quickly fell asleep.

Harry woke a few hours later to find the drapes open and a steaming cup of tea on his bedside table. He smiled to himself. Having house elves definitely had its advantages. Before taking a sip of the tempting liquid, he checked on Hermione. Her fever was still there but was only 99.8 degrees. Harry knew she wouldn't wake for several more hours. Yawning and stretching his tired muscles Harry slowly got out of bed and drank his tea. An hour later he was dressed and sitting at the small desk which occupied a corner of their bedroom. He opened a small leather book and wrote down the details of the night before. Madam Pomfrey had asked him to keep a record of the attacks and the after effects, as well as times when Hermione suffered from headaches or memory loss. When Harry was done writing down the information he sighed heavily looking down at the entries of the last week. There had been too many and he somehow suspected this week would be much the same.

Harry's intuition was unfortunately correct. The week before Christmas resulted in Hermione suffering from two debilitating migraines, five incidences of memory failure, and three more pain filled episodes. Hermione spent the majority of that week sleeping in whatever room in the house Harry set her up in for the day. Harry felt it was important to at least get her out of the bedroom and give her a change of scenery. It also helped her feel a part of the continuous decorating that Biddy and Colby continued to do. Whenever possible the elves made sure to ask Hermione her opinion on where things should go and Biddy made an extra effort to consult Hermione on the specific foods and drinks that would be offered Christmas afternoon to their guests. Harry had suggested they cancel the Christmas party but true to form Hermione wouldn't hear of it. "Harry I will be fine," She reassured him. "I don't want all this effort we have put in to be for not. Besides I am looking forward to seeing our friends. I feel rather cooped up here lately." Harry was glad she was excited about the coming gathering but he feared how it was going to affect her health. Her levels were approaching critical. The last reading was just the day before and results showed her core being 40%. It showed. Harry couldn't help but notice how weak Hermione was. She could no longer make it up and down the stairs without help and it clearly exhausted her. He had often taken to simply carrying her. She hardly ate anymore claiming she was too nauseous from her headaches to stomach much. He knew she was aware of her steady decline, and yet she seemed to be pushing her worries aside in favor of trying to appear as normal and happy as she could. Harry suspected she was doing this for his benefit but she wasn't fooling him. He could see the pain in the fine lines of her face and the tired glaze of her eyes. It made his heart clench.

According to Ron the mission to bring Atticus in was scheduled to take place just three days after Christmas. Harry had finagled Ron into telling him some of the details. He was determined to be there whether he had been officially invited or not. Too much was riding on bringing Atticus in for him to sit back and wait for others to handle it. Hermione was slowly slipping away and he had to do something to stop it.

Hermione had greatly enjoyed seeing the transformation of the manor into its warm and festive holiday decor. She loved the smell of the pine trees and the fresh wreaths. The soft glow of the small lights was relaxing when her head was aching. She listened to her favorite Christmas melodies and reminisced about Christmas's long past. Tears sometimes slid down her cheeks at the thought of her parents. Sometimes however, the tears were more introspective. Hermione was the smartest witch of her age, even despite the memory lapses she had been experiencing. She knew how bad her condition was. If the constant shaking, weak and painful feelings in her body were not enough of a reminder, she had the numerical evidence of her core levels to prove to her that she was dangerously ill. Hermione tried her best to keep smiling, be positive and act as normal as she could. She knew Harry was increasingly worried but she didn't want to add to his anxiety by being morose. Deep in her heart she understood that this could very well be the first and last Christmas she spent as Mrs. Potter. At times it felt so unfair that she couldn't help the sobs from wracking her body. If indeed she was destined to die young she did not want to waste her time mourning the fact. She wanted to try to enjoy every moment she had left with those she loved. This was the reason she pushed to continue on with the Christmas gathering. If she was honest with herself, the thought of simply cuddling up in bed all day with Harry was more appealing. Yet she couldn't give up the idea of seeing her friends and playing lady of the manor. She knew that despite how exhausting it would be that she wouldn't regret it. She only hoped it was not marred by an attack.

Christmas Eve proved to be less than ideal. It had started out well enough. When Hermione woke she was met with gentle advances from Harry that led to a very enjoyable, slow and tender moment of ecstasy. Harry had then brought her breakfast in bed. She had done her best to eat the warm oatmeal that was flavored with honey and almond milk. She managed a few sips of the mint tea and a couple strawberries before she had to admit she couldn't stomach anything else. Harry had helped her shower and get dressed. He had then surprised her by giving her one of her gifts. Hermione was speechless as she held a first edition Runes book in her hands. She enjoyed a lazy morning reading part of the book as Harry sat beside her polishing his broom. Hermione had given Harry a new snitch. She knew he still loved to fly despite not doing it very often anymore. She suggested he give his broom a good polish and if the snow held off that he go test out his new snitch. She was so pleased when Harry's eyes had lit up as if he was a young school boy again and hurried of to get his neglected broom.

As the afternoon wore on Harry rose and suggested they go down for some lunch or after snacks. By this point Hermione was aware of a dull ache in her skull and that her vision was beginning to blur. Agreeing with Harry she made to stand but swayed as her head gave a nasty pounding to the movement. She felt Harry's arms encircle and support her. "Whoa, take it slow. Are you alright?" his voice full of concern as he looked her over.

Hermione gave him a small smile. "Thanks. I think I just stood too quickly." She could tell he was not completely convinced but was glad that he didn't press it. As they moved to the study, to partake of various snacks, the ache in Hermione's head took on a more pounding affect. She felt her stomach turn and after only a couple bites decided she better stop. She reached for her teacup and it rattled as her hands trembled. Harry's voice reached her, "Alright love?"

"Yes, just a bit shaky, as always," she replied with a small smirk. Instead of eating she moved slowly and carefully to the piano. "Perhaps I'll play the piano to try to calm my hands."

She saw Harry smile. "I do love when you play."

Hermione let her fingers play a tune she knew without thinking. When she looked at the keyboard she realized her vision was getting worse too. A dark spot had appeared and it cut her view of things in half. Her hands stumbled on the keys and she withdrew them taking a deep breath. She felt Harry pull up behind her placing his hands gently on her shoulders.

"That was beautiful. Thank you," Harry said. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Hermione started to nod but thought better of it. "It's my head," she finally confessed.

"Here, come sit down and I'll get a pain potion for you," Harry offered. He helped her rise and furrowed his brow when she swayed unsteadily, a look of pain crossing her face. Helping her to the couch he said, "I'll be right back."

Hermione closed her eyes but the light from the window penetrated her eyelids. Squinting she slowly stood and began to make her way to the window. She pulled the drapes closed and sighed with some relief as the blinding sun was blocked out. As she made her way back to the couch her hand pressed into the side of her head in an attempt to squash the violent pain that had erupted there. She felt dizzy and sunk to the floor. Her stomach lurched and soon the little she had eaten came back up. Hermione curled into a ball trying to block out the blinding pain.

Harry entered the study to find the room darkened and Hermione on the floor, her hands holding her head. Her eyes where clenched shut. Harry was horrified to find a puddle of sick next to her. He quickly vanished the mess and knelt down. "Come on honey. Just drink this." He pressed the vial to her lips and she drank it easily. He felt her body relax a little as the potion took effect. He took note that she felt warm and waving his wand performed the spell which revealed her temperature to be 99.9 degrees. Harry picked her up and placed her on the couch. She was still holding her head and began rocking back and forth breathing unsteadily. Harry wasn't sure what to do to stem the pain. "What can I do?" he desperately asked.

A single word escaped Hermione's lips. "Ice."

Harry instantly understood and called Biddy to fetch an ice pack. Within seconds Harry gently pried Hermione's hands from her head and settled the ice there instead. He covered her in a blanket to keep her from getting too cold and laid down beside her. He hoped the ice would also help reduce her fever. Fifteen minutes later Harry noticed Hermione's breathing had settled into a slow rhythm. She was finally asleep. Harry knew from experience that she would most likely sleep the rest of the afternoon.

Hermione didn't remember anything after the ice pack began to numb her skull. She knew she must have drifted off to sleep but had no memory of ending up in her own bed. When she woke the room was dark except for the small glow of a lamp that Harry had turned on near the writing desk. She groaned as she shifted to look at him. "What time is it?" her voice was hushed rough from disuse. She saw Harry move toward her and he was soon at her side pushing her gently back down into the pillows.

"It's midnight my love. I will join you shortly. Go back to sleep. I know you are still tired." Harry smiled down at her before kissing her lightly. "Do you need any more pain potion or anything else?"

Hermione gave him a weak smile and hummed, her eyes already closing again. "I love you."

"And I you," Harry replied. He let his hand push back a curl from her soft cheek. He looked down on her, admiring her beauty. He blinked back tears and bent to kiss her again. He thought about the coming day and the party. It all seemed in such opposition to the current circumstances they were struggling through. She deserved so much more. "Merry Christmas my love," he whispered sadly.

PLEASE COMMENT! THE CHRISTMAS PARTY WILL BE NEXT! Things are coming to a climax. Hermione doesn't have long left...what will happen?