Over the course of the following week, Draco consistently felt as if the affiliation would vanish every time he looked away, falling inaccessible once more. But as if he'd somehow revitalised the spring from which the magic was wrought, he was able to summon it once more.
It didn't harbour the strength it once had—and it wasn't as strong as Hermione's possession of her own branch of the lunar magic—but he'd developed it once before. Feeling the rush of power in his fingertips again was enough to embed a seed of hope in the back of his mind.
One idle afternoon, Draco found himself on the grounds, the heat of the Spanish sun blazing down on him, testing the magic. He'd strengthened it once before through focus and effort and now the floodgates were open.
Desire to possess the full strength of it once more had overtaken him.
Several days prior, Hermione and Hugo had surprised him with a cordoned off training ground, including a target range to practice with, and though it was mostly for show he appreciated the gesture.
Three times, he had destroyed and reassembled the row of targets. Some were closer than others, while others moved around.
The magic didn't run out, but after a while he began to feel sluggish, pressure mounting above his eyes. He sank into one of the benches along the edge of the gardens, eyeing the chaos.
The newly returned thrum of magic in his veins was a constant reminder of their purpose. To grow strong enough and knowledgeable enough to mount another attack. This time to reclaim what was once theirs.
And this time they wouldn't miss anything.
They had learned too many hard lessons in the aftermath of the last battle in Italy; Draco could sense the sentiment lingering behind Dagomir and Ben's almost manic coordination of the patrol teams.
As if his thoughts had brought the man into being, Dagomir approached the bench before sinking down beside Draco.
Draco only blinked at him, unused to seeing Dagomir partake in sunshine. He didn't know whether he'd seen the man outside of the barracks since the oath-taking ceremony a week prior.
At last, Dagomir sighed, leaning back. "Hello, Lunae Ortus."
Lips twitching, Draco nodded. "Hello." When the man wasn't forthright with anything further, he added, "Is something wrong? Do I need to return?"
"No." Dagomir swept a hand through his hair, dragging it down his face. When Draco looked closer, he could see the deep shadows below the strategist's eyes. Almost apologetically, he elaborated. "I only needed a short break."
The confession startled Draco. After long months of knowing Dagomir, he'd never seen him look worn out. In fact, Dagomir was usually the one to push others to carry on.
Concern mingled with guilt in the pit of his stomach. "You don't need to push yourself so hard," Draco admonished quietly. "We never expected any of this to change overnight. You know that better than anyone."
"I know." Dagomir turned his face upwards, squinting in the bright daylight. "I take my duties very seriously."
"I agree," Draco allowed with a nod. "More so than anyone I've ever seen." When Dagomir turned doleful hazel eyes in his direction, Draco cracked a grin. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off."
"I couldn't." The words slipped past Dagomir's lips without even considering the offer.
Stretching his legs in front of him, Draco interlocked his hands across his middle. "It wasn't a suggestion."
Dagomir's brow furrowed with contention, as if he regretted speaking his thoughts aloud. But he knew better than to defy an order, and Draco took the thought to his advantage as his grin widened. At last Dagomir huffed, crumpling on the bench. "I suppose it couldn't hurt."
"You and I both know your guards are more than capable of running the patrols themselves," Draco went on quietly. "You can spend some time outside with me. I've been practicing with the affiliation."
"Good," Dagomir grunted, but he relaxed a little, as if willing to accept that he could still be helpful and the day wouldn't be a complete waste. "I have been watching you a little. You have come a long way since Italy."
Scratching at his beard, Dagomir frowned; Draco could see the wheels turning in the back of his mind and waited.
"I can't help but notice, Lunae Ortus," he went on at last, "that the Lunae Amor has taken to utilising the affiliation for most of her magic."
"Yes," Draco said, "she's very proficient with it."
A frisson of pride chased through him, not only at how well she had been doing, but that others had taken notice.
"Most unusual," Dagomir went on, "when all I have heard of the affiliation—prior to taking this active role in the Order upon your Ascension—is that it operates with specific purpose."
Draco considered the thought for a moment. "You mean destruction, spell-breaking, healing."
"Yes." Dagomir nodded sharply. A wry grin crept across his face. "Yet she uses it to light the torches and open the doors."
With a chuckle, Draco glanced away towards the gardens. "Hermione has always pushed the boundaries on anything magical. I remember being astounded—although I suppose at the time I was annoyed—that she was so far advanced in our classes at Hogwarts despite being a Muggle-born."
"She is most worthy indeed," Dagomir acquiesced. "A wonderful selection for your Lunae Amor. And it is obvious the bond you share is rare. Which is why I wonder at the strength of her magic."
"In what way?"
Dagomir squinted into the sky again, as if he couldn't quite find the right words. At last he met Draco's stare again. "The strength of the affiliation is determined by the strength of the bond. Not only was she able to draw her own affiliation from your bond—something no other Lunae Amor has ever done outright—but she has been able to manipulate it beyond anything in recorded history. It leads me to believe you will be able to achieve the same."
Something behind his words left Draco feeling unsettled, and he shifted, toeing the earth beneath them. "What do you think this says about the bond?"
"I don't know." Dagomir shook his head, sinking back once more. "Perhaps she was meant to be the one you chose."
A deeper sentiment hovered in the back of Draco's mind, and he couldn't help but dissect Dagomir's meaning, even as he released a snicker. "Crazy to think, if you had seen the two of us growing up."
With an indulgent smile, Dagomir murmured, "Children."
Although their past went far beyond such a trivial sentiment, Draco couldn't quite shake the thought as he offered a belated grin. He thought back to the point in time when Hermione had come for the open call for his partner; he had been so dismissive initially—a knee-jerk reaction—but after their first decent conversation he'd felt the thought of her niggling at the back of his mind.
And even when he had been trying to select from the dozens of women who had attended the call, he'd carried little doubt that Hermione was the one he needed to choose. Despite the fact that they hadn't yet realised how well they got along.
He could remember the tug in the back of his mind, pushing him to select her.
"Do you think magic was at play?" Draco spoke aloud. It felt odd to discuss these things with Dagomir, and to share such vulnerabilities, when he didn't know the man well in a personal capacity. If anything, it was something he might discuss with Hugo. "When I selected the Lunae Amor. I felt… I don't know, that she was the one I needed to choose. Even though there were so many others."
"I recall," Dagomir nodded. "You scarcely looked at the others after you'd met with her."
Draco didn't realise he'd been so obvious.
"The ancient magic of the Nocturnus Order goes deeper than we even realise," Dagomir said with an idle shrug. "Perhaps this is one of those things. Your magic selected her magic for the bond it would bring, and maybe it was as simple as that. Magic in its basest form doesn't care about anything else. It recognised something in her that you hadn't yet—you're lucky to have found something so pure."
The words crept into his chest with the sudden escalation of his heart. He wanted to press and to ask more questions, but they both knew how ambiguous and convoluted the information about the Order tended to be. Maybe he would never have a definite answer about what had drawn him to Hermione so immediately and why the bond that now existed between them ran so deep.
After a long moment, Dagomir broke the silence again as he straightened in his seat. "Just some thoughts, Lunae Ortus. Shall I help you practice?"
He summoned a stack of thin clay discs that Draco found vaguely familiar, and without warning Dagomir directed one high into the air with his wand.
Following the spinning trajectory, Draco fired a jolt of magic from his palm; the brightness of the affiliation chased the disc, shattering it in midair. With a grin, Dagomir muttered, "Very good," before launching the next.
Hermione hadn't seen Draco since breakfast, and after a while she decided to venture onto the grounds. She wasn't used to feeling idle, and even the time she had spent living in Malfoy Manor felt more active than certain days at the villa.
After the oath-taking ceremony, Hugo had created custom Portkeys for the friends that had joined them, and every so often someone stopped in to say hello. But the rest of them lived in England, and largely it was the original Nocturnus Order members who lingered around the villa.
Still, it was nice to visit with friends. She had spent some time with Neville and Luna the day before which had been a balm to her fatigued soul.
Hermione drifted into the barracks complex, and to her surprise Dagomir wasn't commanding the situation as usual; he appeared to have left Vlad in charge, who looked a little harried but in control as he scrawled some new information on the wall.
"Hello," Hermione breezed as several guards looked up from their training sessions when she entered. "As you were, please. Is everything going well here?" she asked, peering over the table.
Vlad nodded, a little distracted, before flashing her a grin. "Everything is as expected, Lunae Amor. Dagomir stepped out two hours ago and hasn't returned, which is unlike him, but we have all been telling him to take some time off."
She hesitated at the words but smiled as the pieces fell together. "The Lunae Ortus is away as well. Maybe they're together."
With a nod, Vlad sunk at the information. "The next patrols are due back any minute. Ben arranged to meet with Cynthia today, so we will see if anything comes of that. Otherwise, very little new to report."
Hermione gazed at the map for another moment before stepping away. "Wonderful. I'll wait and see what he has to say."
She ventured deeper into the room, observing the guards as they practiced their training routines. Often she admired the intensity and dedication they had, and it always left her feeling humbled that they were so willing to fight for the Order.
For several minutes she visited with the guards, enjoying the simple feeling of connection, but they all looked up when the last patrol rotation returned to the grounds.
Hermione spotted Ben and moved back towards the strategy area where they'd been keeping all the information they learned. Ben looked a little out of sorts as he quietly conferred with Vlad.
"We need to find Dagomir. He hasn't responded on his coin," he announced, and Hermione nodded, adrenaline jumping through her veins. If her suspicion was correct and he and Draco were together, there would be no need to search the sprawling grounds.
She pressed the tips of her fingers to her own crescent marking, feeling the flare of magic; moments later she felt Draco's signature echo back at her. She flashed a smile. "They'll be here shortly."
Several minutes later, Draco and Dagomir rushed through the door of the barracks together, and Ben cracked a grin. "Impressive, Miss Amor."
Dagomir strode forward, his expression all business as he approached Ben. Draco came up along Hermione's side, taking his hand into hers; an unusual intensity shone in his stare when she met his gaze, but she didn't have time to unpack that at the moment.
"Cynthia has news," Ben announced once they were all assembled. Hugo had drifted into the room as well, as if someone had informed him of the meeting via his coin, and Hermione caught his eye as his expression remained stoic at the mention of his sister. "About Elias Bergen."
Hermione's stomach rolled at the mere mention of the man who had betrayed them, her magic spiking in her palm.
Ben grimaced as he scrawled something on the map before glancing back up. "And about Glenneth."
Pacing forward, Draco peered closer at the map, and Hermione felt herself still in anticipation when he growled, "What about them?"
"Start with Glenneth." Hugo stepped forward, his jaw clenched and expression dark, before he added a muted, "Please."
Despite the distance between them, Hermione could feel the chill radiating from Hugo's countenance; rarely had she seen the man look so stern. She felt a spasm of guilt sweep through her that she hadn't checked in with him more often. Not only did he have to face his father's betrayal on a daily basis, but now he was left wondering about his sister's fate inside Avance as well.
Ben sank into a chair as if he needed it to stabilise himself; the rest followed suit, dragging a stack of chairs away from one wall and dispersing them around. Hermione couldn't help the fear that chased through her.
At last, Ben released a great sigh and spoke. "Avance are keeping Glenneth isolated where no one else can reach him, and he's under heavy guard day and night."
"They know he is the key to keeping us at bay," Dagomir growled; sucking in a breath, Hermione nodded.
"According to Cyn," Ben went on with a grimace, "they've fashioned him an amulet. Whether it's stifling his magic or directing his obedience, she isn't certain, but I think we can safely guess at both."
"Because we broke through their Imperius last time," Draco muttered at Hermione's side, his palm clenched into a fist; she could see vague streaks of light breaking free.
Glaring at the table, Dagomir rose to his feet and began to pace. "That's exactly why."
"What did she tell you about the amulet?" Hermione asked, hoping to refocus the discussion at hand. "Neither Cosette or Elias are stupid, so I can only imagine there's something more to the situation."
"It was crafted using the affiliation," Ben said, the words hanging in the haunting silence that followed.
Hermione collapsed deeper into her seat, spinning the idea over in her mind. "It'll likely be impervious to spell damage then." Casting a glance around she added, "That's what I would have done, anyways."
Draco cursed under his breath. "So we need to not only figure out how to destroy the amulet but also how to get to Glenneth in the first place. I think we can all agree that it's imperative that Cynthia is not revealed to her father and Cosette as our informant. There is only so much we can ask of her."
"And if we ask her to get close to Glenneth..." Hermione added, letting the sentiment fall into place between the group.
"Right," Dagomir bit out, wearing an aggressive path into the floor.
Hugo stepped towards the table, his arms folded tightly across his front as he met Ben's stare; idly Hermione wondered whether they trusted one another more than anyone else in matters dealing with Cynthia since they were the two who had the most emotional investment in the girl.
"Did Cyn say where they were keeping Glenneth?"
Ben rose from his seat, circling the map before waving a hand. "She doesn't know specifically without trying to access the wing, which will raise suspicions. But she's seen the guards changing watch and she said he's somewhere in the east wing."
Catching Draco's hand with a squeeze, Hermione thinned her lips. No matter what they learned about Avance, it was all irrelevant while they controlled Glenneth, who had the magical ability to stifle them all.
Dagomir stopped by the far wall, dropping his face into a large palm. "No one's saying it," he bit out gruffly, "but there is another option in dealing with Glenneth."
"No," Draco growled, his hand squeezing Hermione's like a vise. "No one's mentioned it because it isn't an option. Glenneth never asked for any of this; I could see it in his eyes that he regretted how they'd manipulated him during the battle."
As she followed the line of thought, Hermione swallowed a sudden lump in her throat, nausea churning in her stomach. "You're suggesting we remove Glenneth from the equation."
Dagomir only frowned, his eyes mournful. "Glenneth is a friend. I do not want to consider this either, but if Avance is left without our mage, the playing field is equal."
"Other than the thousands of Nocturnus they're holding hostage," Draco snipped, a sharp edge to his tone that shot a shiver down Hermione's spine. He rose to his feet, pacing towards the map, his shoulders back and head high. "We are doing whatever we have to do in order to extract Glenneth and get him safely back with Nocturnus."
As if with relief, Dagomir deflated as Draco dismissed the other, less-than-savoury option.
But Draco turned towards Ben and Hugo, who wore remarkably similar expressions. "But we're going to need Cynthia's help—and if anything goes wrong, I promise we'll do everything we can to get her out too, even if it means compromising her intelligence."
"If we get Glenneth back," Dagomir growled, "we'll have traded one advantage for another. And recovered a loyal Nocturnus member."
"Then it's settled," Draco stated, his words ringing through the room. Many of the guards who had been training had come to listen in on the discussion. "Our priority is to recover our mage."
Like an old friend, Hermione felt pride in her husband bubble to the surface; his leadership qualities shined more than he cared to acknowledge.
"We haven't acknowledged something," she said quietly, leaning forward in her seat; more than a dozen sets of eyes swivelled towards her. "If the amulet was made with the affiliation… it'll need to be unmade."
"With the affiliation," Draco finished, easily picking up the thought.
Silence fell once more, this time coloured with an anticipatory hesitation. Still staring at the map, Dagomir announced, "Avance is not aware that we possess the affiliation, is this correct?"
"Correct," Ben affirmed. "Cosette genuinely believes the Lunae Ortus was killed in Italy when Glenneth seized the affiliation. What she fears now is the continued existence of the Lunae Amor, and those members of the council and guard who escaped from the battle. But she has no knowledge that Nocturnus is actively rebuilding."
"If Cynthia has no way of getting to Glenneth without giving herself up," Hugo reasoned, gesturing with one hand, "we'll need to get to Glenneth ourselves."
"Which means one of us needs to go into the castle," Hermione breathed. "To dismantle the amulet."
It was the only answer she could see, and although no one immediately spoke, she could see the answer in each of their faces. If they wanted to recover Glenneth, they would need to delve deep into their enemy's stronghold.
And this time, the enemy was many times stronger and ready for them.
"We aren't ready to mount a full scale attack," Dagomir said, cursing under his breath.
"Looking at the numbers," Hugo said, his tone delicate, "we may never be ready. We will need to figure out something else."
Draco dragged a hand down his face, glaring at the map, but before he could speak, Hermione rose to her feet.
"I'll do it," she said softly, ignoring the feel of Draco's hard stare on her face. She flexed her palm, abundant magic sparkling from her fingertips. "But we'll need to know as much as possible before we go in."
"You aren't," Draco snarled under his breath, but the words didn't carry weight. They both knew his grasp on the magic still wasn't as strong as hers.
Drawing a deep breath to quell a sudden spike of fear, she nodded towards Ben once more. "What can you tell us about Elias?"
Hugo's white knuckles tightened around the edge of the table, his jaw set in a hard line. If she wasn't mistaken, he had been far less jovial than usual. Again, Hermione felt a swell of shame that she hadn't paid due care to how much he had been struggling.
"According to Cyn," Ben said, sinking into his seat once more, "Cosette isn't the worst of the problem we're facing right now—Elias is. He's abusing the power of the affiliation, to the point where no one wants to deal with him."
Draco caught Hermione's eye with a dark look, chewing his tongue.
Quietly, he mused, "I can't honestly say I'm surprised. The power of the affiliation is… unlike anything else. It must be tempered and balanced—the Lunae bonds went a long way to control the affiliation between us. And if Elias was willing to betray his Order to obtain it…" With an apologetic frown towards Hugo, he trailed off.
"He's drunk on the power," Hugo scoffed.
"That isn't all," Ben said, a hint of a smirk pulling at his lips. "We aren't certain because the response manifests in different ways when someone breaks their Nocturnus vows, but we might be seeing the cracks in Elias Bergen's facade at last."
Hermione's heart leapt into her chest at the words, and she briefly met Draco's stare again. "In what way?"
Ben's expression broadened into a grin, and Hermione felt a hint of apprehension chase across her skin. In a low voice he bit out, "The lunar magic he's stolen isn't loyal. It's begun to backfire."
As Draco's hand found hers again, she felt the pulse of his magic against her own, and her soft intake of breath was the only sound that broke the sudden, all-encompassing shock in the room. She squeezed his hand in return. They might have finally caught a break.
Author's Note: Thank you as always for reading! I appreciate the support so freaking much. I hope each one of you are keeping safe and well.
Alpha hugs to Kyonomiko, and beta hearts to ravenslight.