AN: What a time this is. A billion thanks to everyone still commenting. I love these chapters after they're written, but getting into the frame of mind to write them is harder than ever right now. You keep me going when it would be easier to stop and I thank you, from my shut in little heart. Wishing health and safety to all of you. DDD

Clearly, Narcissa Malfoy was still a madwoman.

That's what Ann Granger assumed when Narcissa introduced the name of her son into their conversation, calling him Ann's son-in-law.

Ann laughed, waving the remark away. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Cissa. Hermione's only just told me they're seeing each other. It is harrowing to see them getting close so young. But I think we may be able to weather a school romance without having to resort to a wedding."

She took a step toward Narcissa, one hand shielding the side of her mouth as she spoke, as if to keep anyone from overhearing. "Don't be too scandalized, Cissa, but before I sent her back to school, I took Hermione to the doctor to get a prescription for the pill."

Narcissa's brow furrowed. "Pill?"

Ann raised her eyebrows. "Oh, your people - no, of course you wouldn't. Magic, after all. I see. The pill, Cissa, it's medicine to keep the kids from - well, from getting in a family way."

Narcissa was still frowning, shaking her head.

Ann tried again. "To keep him from getting her up the duff."

Narcissa shrugged, still confused. "Sorry, Ann. I don't - "

"Pregnant," Ann burst. "Medicine to keep your son from getting my daughter pregnant, so no matter what happens, they won't feel like they have to get married as teenagers."

Narcissa cringed. "Ann - no, my dear. I don't mean son-in-law because of a baby, I mean the letter Draco brought here pleading with me to sign it. He risked his life to press the issue with me. It disturbed this entire household and led to him being tortured with a Cruciatus curse. How could I not sign it?"

Ann stepped forward to take both of Narcissa's hands, meeting her eyes, imploring. "What letter? What was it?"

"The letter of consent for him to marry," Narcissa finished, looking away. "Draco is not yet seventeen and needed my permission - or at least, for me not to forbid it."

Ann let go of Narcissa's hands, stepping back, and forcing another more desperate laugh. "Your son wanted a letter to marry my daughter, at age sixteen? Why in the world would he want such a thing? They're in school. They're young and free and - and I got them the pill. There's no excuse..."

Narcissa crept across the floor, leaned her ear against the door to see if she could hear anyone spying on them from outside. "Quiet the room," she said, sternly and clearly, as if she was speaking to the house itself.

"Now, Ann," she began, and she told her what she knew about the love charm she'd seen the Dark Lord try to cast out of Draco's arm before he branded him with the Dark Mark.

"I can't tell you exactly what it was," she said, helpless in Ann's barrage of new questions. "It's not that I don't think you'd understand because you're not magical. It's not that at all, Ann. It's just that I truly don't have a grasp of it myself. When the charm came apart in my drawing room, flying into hundreds of tiny, starry lights, one sank into my heart. I could feel something of what your Hermione feels for my son, Ann. I know their connection is more than infatuation. I hope you can find some comfort in that."

Ann was pacing the floor. "I do not," she said. "They can be as madly in love as they want. I was seventeen once myself and - well, they may very well be in love. But what's that got to do with getting married at this age?"

Narcissa was nodding, her eyes fixed on her hands folded at her middle. "I ought to tell you, we tend to marry young in wizarding Britain," she said. "I myself was engaged to Lucius shortly after I left school. An eighteen-year-old bride, a mother at twenty. There were many young brides that year. It was the beginning of a war - something like now."

"A war?" Ann repeated. "Cissa, you called your husband's people a movement."

Narcissa sighed. "Yes, a militant movement - revolution, insurrection. The Dark Lord downstairs - he's made my Draco into a soldier but it's all just a pretense to punish Lucius for the times we've disappointed him."

Narcissa beat her fists once against her thighs. "I've fought to save Draco myself but - I'm no warrior. Not like this. But Hermione has found a way. She is fighting to save his life. This charm between them is the key to that. I don't understand it but ever since the Dark Lord touched it, he's been ill and rabid to get rid of it. It has power over him somehow. All I know is that Draco and Hermione's bond needs to be strengthened in order for them to escape and survive - in order for all of us to survive: the children and Lucius, me, and - and you, Ann. You and your Tim as well."

She paused, catching her breath. "And so we have arrived here."

Ann cast her eyes around the room, held her arms in front of herself, scanning the lengths of them, clad in Narcissa's hand-tatted lace sleeves. "Arrived here," she repeated. "Here with the man downstairs, the monster no one has ever wounded but that Harry Potter character and my own daughter."

Narcissa nodded. "So it is."

Ann waved an arm toward the door. "He's brought me here as a hostage, hasn't he? He's using me to hurt her. He's going to hurt me in order to hurt and control Hermione."

Narcissa nodded. "I've come to that conclusion as well. I'm so sorry, Ann."

Ann stomped toward the bedroom door, calling through the wood. "If he's so bloodthirsty, why hasn't he come for me yet? What is he waiting for? Why is he letting me work it all out, here alone with you?"

Narcissa took her hand again, leading her away from the door. "He is still powerful but thanks to his wounds, he is slow and sick. He thinks none of us can tell, but it's plain to see. I've known him for a very long time, long enough to know that even at the height of his powers, he would attempt very little during the day, while the sun shines on him."

Ann gave a sad smirk. "Vampire."

Narcissa hugged herself. "Much worse than that. As for leaving you shut in here with me, it was supposed to make it easier for Bella to guard us and keep us from annoying him. Though she seems to have given it up. As for me, it's been weeks since they dismissed me as mad. They don't believe I'll be able to tell you anything useful. And since you're a Muggle, they believe you're completely helpless, as if there's nothing you could do to affect your situation. You're a mouse in their trap."

"I'm the bait in their trap," Ann sighed, sitting heavily on the bed. "But he will come for me, won't he? When the day darkens, he'll come. He'll let Hermione know I'm here and demand that she give herself up in my place. And she'll come."

Ann folded her arms across her aching middle. "And even if I were to drown myself in your bathtub to spoil their bait and keep my girl alive, he'd just bring Tim here and do the same with him." Her head fell into her hands. "Cissa, my whole family - what do I do?"

Narcissa dropped to her knees at Ann's feet, speaking up into her face in a fierce whisper. "You save them," she said. "We save them."

Ann's hands came away from her face, looking into Narcissa's. Her eyes were wild again, but not with madness.

She took Ann's hand and raised her to her feet. "No one here knows I'm in my right mind. They don't know I've got my wand. The house hid it from them while I was ill. What's more, they may have forgotten that, even though this house doesn't let them apparate in and out, as its mistress, the house lets me come and go as I please."

Ann blinked in recognition. "Apparate. That's the," she snapped her fingers, not knowing how else to talk about it. "The kids are preparing to take their tests."

"Yes, that's right," Narcissa said. "You won't like apparation, I'm afraid. But it's your only chance to get from here to Hogwarts. You must go there. It's one of the few safe places left in Britain."

"Right. How is it done?"

Narcissa extended her arm. "Take my hand. No, it'll still be too much for you." She held Ann around the waist instead. "Bow your face into my shoulder. It will help with the spinning. And remember to breathe. Ready, steady…"

Wand out, Narcissa turned both of them on the spot, like dancers in the Epicruvean waltz, Ann holding onto her tightly, choking as the spinning took them. Then they were stumbling on the road from Hogsmeade, fresh, cold air chilling them as they landed almost at the gates of Hogwarts.

Ann sank to the ground, hands on her head, panting in the frosty grass. She swore.

"Sorry, Ann. I was as gentle as I could be. Can you get up?" She tugged on Ann's hand, helping her fight to standing. "Do you recognize the place? Around this bend is the gate to the school. There are Aurors there all the time now - police, that is. Tell them who you are and that you need to speak with your daughter. They'll help."

"Cissa!" Ann called, laying a hand on Narcissa's wand as she was about to turn and leave. "You've got to come with me. You can't go back to that house, especially after I've gone missing. They'll punish you, like they did Draco. Your legs - the crusty attic curse." She struck her most authoritative, motherly tone. "Cissa, come with me to the school."

Narcissa shook her head. "I can't Ann. He has ways of forcing Draco to come to him. And if I'm gone, he will certainly bring my boy to answer for it. No, I'll go back and feign madness again. I'll tease the knots back into my hair and dress myself in that same filthy gown. I'll hide my wand away. Perhaps they won't blame me. But if they do - well, for some time now, it ought to have been my turn to face the anger of the Dark Lord."

A moment of silence passed between them before Ann lunged forward to throw her arms around Narcissa's neck, pecking her cheek, speaking into her ear. "Thank you, Cissa. For my whole family, for everything - thank you."

Narcissa squeezed her ribs, sniffing at tears. "Take care, Ann. Perhaps we'll meet again, as family."

It was mid-afternoon, the streets deserted, when Tim Granger parked his car outside his house, fumbling for his keys, rushing to the front door, an ember of hope burning in his chest, telling him it was possible that Ann might have come home while he was gone.

He pushed through the door, calling out. "Ann?"

She didn't answer, but just inside, perched stiffly on the little bench no one ever sat on in the Granger's front hall, was a tall figure in a pointed hat. At the sight of Tim, she stood up, looking him over - his eyes red, face unshaven, his hair bushier and more unruly than ever, as if it had dried wet before he could comb it.

He jumped. "Professor McGonagall! You've come. Do you have her?" he said, taking a giant step toward her. "Ann - do you have Ann with you?"

McGonagall's eyes grew wide. "Dr. Granger, is everything alright? When I saw the sign fixed to the door of your surgery announcing you were closed for a family emergency, I feared the worst."

He grit his teeth. "As do I, Professor." He paced in the hall as he explained how Ann had gone downstairs to get the paper and put the kettle on this morning and he hadn't seen her since.

"I've been up and down the street, knocking on doors. No one in the neighbourhood has seen her. She wasn't here to open the surgery this morning. Her family doesn't know anything. I even filed a report with the police."

McGonagall's posture was getting straighter as she grew more and more alarmed.

Tim stopped pacing, turning a desperately hopeful face to her. "I hadn't thought of you people though. She might very well have made her way to Hermione at the school. Why not? Ann and I are not like the rest of you, but we can visit our child's school whenever we want to, can't we? Has she…"

His voice trailed off, as if he couldn't bring himself to hear McGonagall tell him Ann hadn't come to the school, and that meant he couldn't bring himself to finish asking. Why wouldn't she give him a smile, or at least do something other than purse her lips and frown?

"Dr. Granger," she said. "You must come with me to Hogwarts, at once. I'm not sure how much Hermione has told you, but for some months now there has been trouble among - our people. Some of the students have been involved - "

Tim's gaze drifted off, remembering. "Last summer, when Hermione came home with cracked ribs…"

McGonagall nodded. "I'm afraid things are degenerating quickly, to the point where you and Dr. Mrs. Granger might be caught up in it."

Tim blanched. "Degenerating - what kind of trouble?"

"I don't know for certain."

"Is Ann in danger? Is Hermione safe?"

McGongall took another one of her immense breaths. "Hermione is safe at school. That I know. As for your wife - well, if she is threatened by anyone from our world, our best chance to help her is to meet with Professor Dumbledore at the school. Come now, Dr. Granger, the sooner we're off, the better. Take my arm..."

Hermione stood with their star chart rolled up in her fist, tapping her foot in front of the closed door of Professor McGonagall's office. "Where is she?" Hermione asked Draco. "She told us to inform her immediately when we worked out when the ceremony will be. Come on, McGonagall. There isn't much time."

Draco was sitting on a hard wooden bench thumbing through the lessons he'd missed that morning. "Come sit down, Granger. She'll be off getting ready for dinner with your parents, like she told us," he said, shuddering a little at the thought of the impending meeting. "Come tell me whether you're going to tell them everything or not."

She sat beside him, lying back to rest her head on his knees, looking up at the vaulted ceiling. "I don't know, Draco. Didn't McGonagall tell us to follow our feelings when we see them? It's the opposite of deciding beforehand, isn't it?"

Draco hummed, setting down his book and tracing along the smooth skin of her nose, brow, and jawlines with his fingers. "Follow our feelings? If I'm honest, my feelings are terrified and telling me to disappear for the evening."

She caught his hand in hers. "You wouldn't dare."

He sighed, combing the fingers of his free hand through the hair at her temple, flowing behind her ear. "No, of course I wouldn't. But when will it stop, Hermione? When will all the awful things about being engaged be finished so we can settle into…"

"Into what?" she asked when he didn't finish, nestling the back of her head a little higher on his legs, smiling archly at him. "Into our new quarters on the seventh floor? You and me, together all day and night? Never going home, because we're already home?"

She laughed, coy as he faltered in the slow, rhythmic stroking of her hair. He grinned back at her, and bent to brush his nose against hers. "Will they give us a honeymoon?" he mused. "Even if it's just here in the castle? Or will they expect us to report to class as usual, just a few hours after…"

"With everyone looking at us, knowing we've been…" She turned her face, as if already embarrassed, hiding against his thigh.

He smirked, squirming slightly as her breath passed through the light fabric of his trouser-leg, warm on his skin. "Courage, my girl. Now for the love of the Mitrian monks, sit up."

They were sitting side by side, looking at tomorrow's potion assignment, still waiting for McGonagall when, across the Entrance Hall, a strange figure came into view. It was a person - not a student, not a teacher, not close enough to see clearly, yet she was somehow familiar to Hermione all the same.

Hermione stood to see her better. Overdressed in an ornate gown like a pureblood, aristocratic lady, the visitor looked lost, perhaps scared.

Into the vast empty space, the visitor called out, "Hello?"

Hermione gasped. "Mum?"

"Hermione!"

They ran to each other across the stone floor, Ann catching Hermione's face in both her hands. "Hermione, darling, you're safe?"

"Yes, of course, Mum. What are you doing here?" She spoke the rest into Ann's shoulder as she crushed her in a hug. "And what on earth are you wearing?"

Behind her, Draco was standing up, approaching carefully, saying quietly, as if to himself. "It's - I think it's my mother's."

Ann nearly shoved Hermione out of her hug, clearing a path between herself and Draco. She announced his name. "Draco Malfoy."

He made a slight bow. "Madam Granger."

Hermione winced. "It's Doctor, actually." She took her mother's arm, trying to disrupt the intensity with which she was glaring at Draco. "Mum, what's going on? Where is Dad?"

Ann looked to where Hermione held her, snatching at the hand closed on her arm. It was her left hand, where Hermione wore her platinum engagement ring. Ann waved it between them. "When were you going to tell me about this?"

"Tonight, Mum," Hermione said, flicking a panicked glance at Draco. "Professor McGonagall went to London to bring you here so we could talk about it. There's so much to explain - "

"London?" Ann interrupted, her hand pressed to her sternum. "McGonagall's gone to London? She'll get your father then. Oh - Tim - thank heavens."

Hermione frowned. "Don't tell me you came from London without them. How is that possible?"

"She didn't come from London," Draco said. "Excuse me, Dr. Granger, but I can tell you've come from our house."

Ann was jarred out of her momentary relief that Tim might be on his way to the school. "Yes, that's it precisely. Some thugs picked me up out of our garden - Death Eaters, or some nonsense - and they hauled me off the Malfoy Manor."

Hermione gaped at her. "You were captured by Death Eaters? Today?"

"And they," Draco stammered, "they dressed you up in one of my mother's favourite gowns?"

Ann looked down at herself. "No, Cissa did this herself. I could have done without it but I couldn't have done without her magicking me out of there before that monster man woke up to interrogate me about my daughter's love life."

Hermione was clinging to her mother's hand. "Mum, I'm sorry. I never meant to - "

"Mother rescued you?" Draco interrupted, his face flushed red. "She couldn't have. For months now, she's been..." He couldn't finish.

Ann's face changed, staring at Narcissa's son. The sadness in his eyes was the same as his mother's - the stormy grey. With the sadness now was a fleeting but genuine look of relief. In telling him what his mother had done that morning, Ann had borne him an incredible gift, and he stood in front of her now, reeling in its power.

"Yes," she went on. "Your mother was brilliant and brave. Her mind was much disordered when first we met, but we cared for each other and before long she was well enough to get me to safety. I asked her to stay here with us, but she said you'd only be safe if she went back. She went back to them for you, Draco."

His eyes were glassy with unshed tears. He looked from Ann, to Hermione, then down at his feet.

Ann hesitated, considering the top of his bowed, white head. If she were to touch his hair, it would feel just like Cissa's had between her fingers that morning. Her heart cracked open. "Oh, go on," Ann said, springing across the floor to take him in her arms. "There, there, son. It's alright."