For nearly a week, things progressed day by day, almost diminutively. But when she looked closely, Hermione could see things begin to shift.

The Nocturnus Guard had begun their initiative of learning as much as possible about the Avance takeover of the Nocturnus Castle, and each time she visited the guards' barracks, more information had been added to the map as well as a running list along one wall. None of it was explicitly much to go off of and certainly didn't give them enough of an edge to risk breaking through the wards, but piecemeal, it made sense.

And theirs would be the long, patient game.

Until the point came where they knew everything there was to know, and Avance wouldn't see them coming.

Draco had continued his efforts to draw his magic out, and most of the time he needed a nudge from her magic to stir his, but the night before he'd been able to cast a basic spell without her assistance. Hermione had been caught with such surprise tears had sprung to her eyes, and she found herself pulled into his embrace before she had a chance to properly react.

Both Hugo and Dagomir had agreed with the idea of expanding their dwindled network of official Nocturnus members, especially since their friends had already been privy to nearly everything that had happened since the battle in Italy.

As Hugo had been working with Hermione to draft a revised version of the oaths, he'd suggested the inclusion of the Arcands as well.

After a week without incident, Madeline had been allowed to attend meals with the rest of them, but out of an abundance of caution, she wasn't allowed to explore the grounds on her own yet or use her own magic. Hugo had been more than willing to act as her guide.

And while Andromeda had been able to return to England, she still frequented the villa often—sometimes with Teddy—to visit with Narcissa. The buzz of life that often lingered was oddly reminiscent of the Manor, and despite the somber circumstances, the energy was brighter.

The austerity of Nocturnus had given way to something else entirely, and it mingled with the affiliation as it danced in her veins. Purpose—hope.

While they fought to regain their strength, those who remained of their company were driven by a sort of faith and belief that Hermione knew, without a doubt, Avance lacked.

She could only hope it would give them the edge they so desperately sought.

Hermione ventured into the sitting room after a trip to the barracks only to find Draco seated on the sofa with his wand aloft, staring fiercely at a glass of water. Eyeing him from the doorway, she watched as several droplets of water trickled over the edge of the glass of their own accord, a slow smirk spreading across his lips.

"Very nice," she whispered, drawing his attention up. The smirk broadened into a grin as she took a seat beside him. "When is our company set to arrive?"

"Any time now," he returned, leaning back in his seat as he laid his wand down on the table beside the glass. "Let's hope for good news."

Either Harry or Kingsley—sometimes both—had taken to Portkeying in every second day with updates from England. Even though the information rarely served to further their cause with regards to Avance, it was nice to know what was going on back home and even nicer to see her friends.

Between their updates from the British Ministry, everything the guards had learned, and the occasional message Madeline relayed from Cosette's voice in the back of her mind, they had begun to amass a slow trickle of information.

"I wager," Hermione said, leaning back into Draco's hold, "you'll be able to access the affiliation soon."

His lips grazed her temple with a murmured, "Maybe."

Taking his hand into hers, Hermione allowed her magic to flutter over his crescent marking, searching for the pulse of magic she'd come to recognise. "It's growing stronger." Where before the pulse had been infrequent, abnormal, and faint, she could feel the soothing pressure of it against the pads of her fingers.

Each night, Hermione had taken to infusing her own intention into his magical core, hoping that it would serve to strengthen his magic further, as well as the bond between them.

"I'm trying to tell myself not to be impatient," he said with a heavy sigh, "but it feels like I should be further along than this."

Hermione hummed, releasing his wrist. "I can understand that, but I think you'll get there soon. You'll have more magic than you know what to do with before you realise it."

He only muttered into her hair, "I love you for never giving up on me."

Before Hermione could respond, a dull flush creeping into her cheeks, a quiet swoosh filled the room and a smile spread across her face as she leapt to her feet.

"Harry!" she exclaimed, engulfing Harry in a hug before turning to flash a wide smile at Daphne, who stood alongside him looking a little out of sorts. "Daphne—it's wonderful to see you both."

Draco rose from the sofa, extending a hand towards Harry with a grin, before pulling Daphne into a brief hug. As they all made themselves comfortable, Hugo slipped into the room with Madeline; the girl offered a brief wave before vanishing back towards her room while Hugo dropped into an armchair, offering the newcomers a nod.

Leaning forward, Draco interlocked his fingers and turned to address the rest of the room. "What news can you share with us from England?"

Daphne and Harry exchanged a look, and Harry turned back towards Draco with a grimace. "Not all that much to be honest, mate. Kingsley would like to be able to offer more assistance, but the Ministry can only do so much, especially since you aren't currently located in England."

"We can't be in England right now," Hermione deadpanned.

Particularly given, from the last update they'd heard, the Manor was still unlivable. They'd toyed with the idea of returning to reconstruct it, but ultimately they were safer where they were. If they were to return to the Manor, no matter how heavily warded the property, they'd be sitting ducks as soon as Avance realised where they were.

"I know," Harry responded. "It's just the way of it right now. From what I've heard, the French Minister Laurent hasn't returned to France in nearly a week. The Ministry has begun a search since the business between Nocturnus and Avance is hazy to the public eye at best. They've initiated an interim minister for the time being."

Hermione felt an uneasy churn in her stomach at the thought of how much disruption all of this had caused in France from the very beginning when they'd decided to step in.

It felt like so long ago now.

"But all in all," Harry went on, his tone chipper, "it seems as if things in France have otherwise calmed down. Laurent was able to set the cogs in motion to overturn the aggressive anti-creature policies originally put forth by Arcand."

"Good," Hermione breathed, sinking back into her seat. While it was nice to see her friends and to stay updated, none of this was particularly relevant to their cause at the moment. It was reassuring, however, to know that the standard of living for creatures in France would return to how it had been.

If nothing else, they'd achieved that.

"Listen, Potter," Draco cut in, exchanging an anxious glance across the room with Hugo; the other man nodded before drawing a scroll from his pocket, crossing the room to offer it to Harry. "We have something to discuss with you."

Hermione caught Draco's stare, feeling a smile curl her lips as Harry and Daphne peered at the letter, furrows in their brows.

At last Harry looked up from the page. "You want us to… join the Nocturnus Order? Is that even possible?"

Draco offered a wry grimace. "I know it looks like a losing proposition right now—" he paused while the room gave a collective snicker "—but you've done more to help us than most. We'd like to repay the favour and offer our support and protection in return. Once we're strong enough again, of course."

"To answer your additional question," Hugo added, "yes. The ruling Lunae Ortus of the Nocturnus Order—no matter how precarious the rule—is able to alter the stipulations surrounding Nocturnus oaths." Looking uncertain, he went on quietly. "The Nocturnus Order hasn't sought to expand in three centuries."

Harry looked briefly towards Daphne, a flush in his cheeks before he offered a stiff nod. "It would be an honour."

A smile curling her lips, Daphne said, "We'd love to."

"Great," Draco said, clapping his hands together. A smirk drifted across his lips. "There aren't a lot of people who have our trust right now, but those who do have it in spades. We'll gather a group—make a bit of a celebration of it. Merlin knows we could all use a break from the bad news."

"Agreed," Harry said with a wry grin.

Hermione felt a swell of reassurance in her chest, and there was something special about seeing Draco and Harry finally getting along. It only took chaos in abundance and the threat of death for them to realise they weren't that different after all.

Catching Draco's eye, she murmured a soft, "Wonderful."

That evening, after Draco had checked in with the guards, Theo and Blaise came over with several bottles of Firewhisky. They'd both been keen on the idea of joining Nocturnus, and while their group was still small—and would likely remain so—it was promising to know they had people on their side who they knew, implicitly, they could trust.

When he asked his mother whether she would like to plan an oath-taking ceremony in the near future, she had appreciated the idea, more so than he had even anticipated.

Dagomir had been keeping the guard contingents coming and going from the vicinity of the Nocturnus Castle around the clock in an effort to learn everything they possibly could. But many of them were around and joined the small gathering in the villa; even Dagomir himself, looking slightly resigned, ventured into the house.

Narcissa, who wasn't keen on the idea of a raucous party, had vanished to the parlour to read.

And when Draco ventured into the kitchen, he was surprised to see Podski had outdone himself with a large spread of food. He hadn't intended the evening to turn into a party when he'd invited his two best mates over, but maybe it was about time they did something fun.

He came up behind Hermione, selecting some hors d'oeuvres from her plate, and a grin stretched across her face as he banded his arms around her midsection.

"Does it feel weird," he murmured in her ear, "to have a party in the midst of war?"

"It does," she admitted, turning her head to briefly capture his lips, "but maybe it'll be a good thing. The guards have been working themselves to the bone—"

"Dagomir has been," Draco cut in with a grin.

"Dagomir has been working the guards to the bone," Hermione corrected, "and they could use a night off." Turning on the spot, she eyed him for a moment. "Maybe we all could."

"You're right," he mused, tugging her in closer. The jubilant atmosphere had done wonders to ease the strain on his heart. "How did I get so lucky as to wind up with a wife who knows so many things?"

Colour suffused her cheeks as she smiled up at him. "I could say the same about my husband."

Plucking a bite from her plate, he flashed her a grin before setting out to prepare a plate of his own.

Hugo drifted into the room, one arm slung over Madeline's shoulders as he clapped Draco on the back. "I didn't know we were having a party, but I am not complaining."

"You're also not indulging, please," Draco murmured, lifting a brow. "In case any issues arise, I need everyone able to snap back to it with a sober-up potion."

He'd never directly broached the topic of Hugo's recreational potions usage, but he'd also not seen the man utilise any since that first time in the Nocturnus Castle. And certainly, he'd had no cause to acquire any since they'd fled Italy.

Hugo only offered a somber shake of his head. "You don't need to worry about that, Lunae."

The words affirmed what Draco had already suspected—that Hugo had long ago started to take his duties more seriously. He offered a nod. "Then enjoy yourselves."

He and Hermione ventured back into the nearest sitting room, where Dagomir and several of the guards were involved in some sort of game with dice and playing cards. Even the gruff and serious Head of the Guard appeared to be enjoying himself.

When he selected an empty sofa, dragging Hermione down with him, she tucked herself into his side, stretching her legs across his lap as she picked at her plate.

"This is nice," she said softly, observing the activity going on around them. He caught the sparkle in her eyes as she dragged her fingers almost absently along his crescent.

Draco had begun to recognise the distant pulse of his magic responding to hers; in an effort to enjoy the evening, he decided to put the thoughts of his own damaged core aside. Little by little he was seeing improvement, and that was all he could hope for.

But still, he could feel his magic as he relaxed, enjoying the gentle warmth of it swelling in his veins, although it had nothing on the way it had felt to have the affiliation roaring within him.

He rolled his head along the back of the sofa to look at Hermione, an absent smile lingering on his lips as they ate in silence.

At last Hermione spoke up, quietly enough that no one else could listen in. "I can't help but wonder what it will take in the end. The guards have been doing so much, but our numbers are so low."

"I know," he mused, idly eyeing the dice game going on in the centre of the room; there appeared to be a gambling mechanism whereby they wagered knuts and sickles. And as far as he could tell, Dagomir was handily beating everyone else. "We're going to need to discover something big before we can even consider making a move." He caught her stare. "At least we're here and we're safe."

She offered a small smile. "Safe and together." Sinking back, she mused, "I wish we could see what's actually going on in Italy."

"Let's go," he said with a smirk. "Along with one of the patrols."

Hermione snickered. "I highly doubt Dagomir will let you go on a patrol. Especially without your magic fully operational."

"You're probably right," he murmured, watching the mechanics of the game closely; it was simpler than it appeared at first glance. "At any rate, it certainly would be nice." With a thick swallow, he met her stare. "I'm going to jump in for a game."

He rose from his seat, lips twitching as she shifted into the corner of the sofa, sipping from her drink. Dropping into an empty seat at the games table, he met Dagomir's stare, lifting his brows.

The man offered a wry chuckle. "Do you know how to play, Lunae?"

Draco offered a flippant shrug, nodding towards the cards. "Not particularly. But I'm a quick learner."

For a moment, Dagomir stared at him as the other guards fell silent, grins spreading across their faces. At last he said, "I'm not going to take your money."

"I don't want to wager money," Draco said, leaning back in his seat. Although they'd left Lithuania with nothing, his mother and Andromeda had brought plenty of galleons with them when they arrived. But he wasn't interested in money. Catching Dagomir's stare, he breathed, "I'd like to wager a favour."

A chuckle broke out between the guards; in his periphery, Draco could see Hugo and Madeline join Hermione on the sofa. Her chocolate eyes were zeroed in on him as she observed the discussion.

"A favour," Dagomir echoed, frowning. "Games aside, Lunae, you know I would—"

Draco smirked. "Humour me."

At last the man chuckled, offering a sturdy hand across the table; Draco shook his hand, feeling a faint shimmer of magic to commit the wager. "Whatever you ask, Lunae." Draco had been watching carefully while the game had been going on, and he hadn't seen the man consume a drop of alcohol—not that he found that even remotely surprising. Dagomir wasn't the type to drop his guard for any reason; the fact that he was even engaging in a game was rare.

Idly, Draco watched as he shuffled the cards, trying to remember everything he'd picked up from studying the gameplay. He rolled his dice, drawing cards from the deck as he'd seen. Dagomir remained silent as they played through the game.

And though Draco could feel Hermione's stare lingering on him, he did his best to keep focused. Actually playing the game was more complex than he'd realised from watching, and Dagomir was well-versed in the strategy of it. But it included a small element of luck that he would need to rely on.

Dagomir played his last roll of the dice—a four and a six—before exposing his final cards, the Jack of Spades and King of Hearts.

Frowning, Draco flashed Hermione a look as he dragged a hand along the back of his neck. Picking up his dice, he rattled them for a moment before releasing them onto the table. A four and a five. He blew out a breath, eyes darting up to meet Dagomir's narrowed hazel ones. Then he selected two cards from his hand, exposing a suited Queen and Ace.

A raucous cheer went up from the guards as Dagomir huffed a curse under his breath, shaking his head good-naturedly. Somehow—mostly through the luck of the draw—Draco's plan hadn't backfired. He flashed his Head of the Guard a grin.

Dagomir let out a sigh of resignation. "You've bested me Lunae; what favour do you seek?"

Draco darted his tongue out to moisten his lips, gaze flickering briefly to Hermione again before drifting back. "Take me on a patrol to the castle."

Silence fell across the table.

"Absolutely not," Dagomir snipped, scowling. But Draco recognised the flicker of magic from the wager drift across his skin, and he knew Dagomir felt it as well when the man's frown deepened. "It's unsafe, especially without your magic."

"I promise I'll stay out of the way."

They stared one another down from across the table for a long moment, and Draco could see the other man regretted making the wager. But he only leaned back in his seat, lifting a brow. "I won't do anything stupid, and I'll stay well back from the wards. I just want to see the situation there."

It was facetious, since Dagomir couldn't back out of the magical wager, but he made his displeasure known as he sunk back into his seat. "Very well."

Draco could only imagine what sort of rules and stipulations the man might put in place, but he'd allow him that, so long as he had a chance to witness for himself what was going on in Italy.

With a snicker, Ben clapped him on the shoulder. "Beginner's luck, Lunae. Stay and play another round."

For a moment he considered bowing out and quitting while he was ahead, but it had been so long since he'd allowed himself to relax and unwind that he nodded, shooting a wink at Hermione, who only stared at him with a secretive smile on her lips as she engaged in conversation with Hugo and Madeline. Theo and Blaise had slipped onto the next sofa, joining the group.

It felt almost carefree to sit back in his seat as Ben dealt the cards for a new game, discussing menial subject matter. Almost more valuable to Draco in that moment was the idea that they were all on the same level playing field.

The guards weren't looking after him, prepared to give their lives if need be—they were just his friends. It had been so long since anything had felt so simple.

After several games he'd just about figured out the strategy of it. And while Dagomir still looked vaguely disgruntled that he'd been bested, he'd been laughing and joking with the rest of them. Draco stifled a yawn, considering calling it a night, when the atmosphere in the room shifted, the idle chatter dropping off.

Instinctively, his gaze leapt to Hermione, whose eyes were fixed on Madeline. The girl wore a deep frown, her fingers coiled around Hugo's forearm. Dagomir rose from his seat, wand already drawn, and Draco felt his heart jump as he followed suit.

It took several moments for Draco to realise Hugo had a firm grip on Madeline so she couldn't move, and idly, Hermione stood from her seat and made her way towards Draco as he stared, fixated, at the girl.

He hadn't seen Madeline behave in any way incongruent to loyal, but they were surrounded by guards.

"Forsake your loyalty to Nocturnus," Madeline gasped; her voice was quiet but in the sudden silence of the room her words carried with an eerie stillness.

"Cosette," Dagomir muttered, "the voice."

When Draco looked closer he realised Madeline's stare was tight, as if she were focused. A tight breath of relief chased from his lungs.

"She says, 'Nocturnus is defeated. No one is coming for you.'" Madeline scrunched up her face, her breathing a little heavy as she shook her head, her grip a vise on Hugo's arm. "You've been abandoned by those you once claimed to serve."

"Cosette fears defection," Hermione breathed at his side; Dagomir cast her a sharp stare. "She must, if she's using her control over the former Nocturnus Order to force these thoughts."

Dagomir growled, "Cosette fears a power that isn't truly hers."

The idea of it stirred something in the core of Draco's being. Conviction mingled with a soft, quaking fury that he felt in the flicker of his magic.

Into the heavy tension of the room, he asked, "Did she say anything else?"

Madeline's stare snapped up to his. Although her eyes were a little glassy, her gaze was clear. He wondered whether she had to force herself not to move against them or if she'd managed to control the impulses since arriving at the villa. "Cosette believes the Lunae Ortus to be dead."

As the words settled into the back of Draco's mind, he felt Hermione's fingers lace with his. Despite everything else, a smirk pulled at his lips before spreading into a slow grin, the feeling of it building in his chest.

"That," Draco mused to the room as a whole, "is the best fucking news I've heard in a long time."

Author's Note: Hey everyone, thanks as always for reading! I appreciate you all so much. Also, I am now quite certain this story will land at 57 chapters and I have just three more to write! Until next time xoxo

Alpha and beta hugs to Kyonomiko, LadyKenz347, and ravenslight.