"Sit down, Lucius, I'm certain that Hermione is in no danger."

There were few things as infuriating as being told to sit in your own home. Lucius raked a hand through his hair, and muttered a sticking charm to ensure that the door did not swing shut. When he was certain it would remain open, he stalked over to join Narcissa and Dumbledore at Hermione's tea table. He refused to have this meeting in his study, or Narcissa's sitting room, as both were too far away to hear if Hermione cried out.

Only Albus Dumbledore could make his children's playroom look like a headmaster's office. He was sitting sidesaddle on an enlarged rocking horse, and looked much more at home than Narcissa, who was sitting on a stool designed to look like a pink rabbit.

Lucius enlarged one of Draco's chairs (designed to make the young wizard feel as if he were riding a dragon) and drummed his fingers on the table.

Narcissa's cool hand reached out and wrapped around his, stilling it.

"Albus," Lucius wondered when she started using Dumbledore's first name, "what's going on?"

"I can't know for sure," Dumbledore pulled something small and yellow from his pocket, and popped it into his mouth. "You said that she injured herself?"

"Apparently to prove a point," said Lucius, his voice strained.

"You don't think that my sister has-has found a way to possess Hermione, do you?"

Dumbledore shook his head, "She bears none of the classic symptoms of possession, Narcissa. I think we would have known about this a lot sooner had that been the case."

"So then how did she speak to Hermione?" Narcissa asked, her hand squeezing Lucius' just a little too tightly.

"I have a theory-" Dumbledore stroked the cotton horse mane, "She was upset this morning after speaking to Arthur Weasley?"

"We told you that already!" Burst Lucius, "Everything we know, you know, so stop talking without saying anything, or else I'll-"

There was a crash behind him, and he broke off abruptly. Worry clenched him, and he turned, half expecting to see Hermione standing there covered in blood-

He relaxed as his eyes landed on a crop of sleep-tousled blonde hair.

"Mione's sick?" Draco asked, pronouncing her name so that it sounded more like "Miney." He rubbed his eyes tiredly, "She's still in bed."

"Yes," Narcissa said, getting up and stroking his hair back into place. "She's not feeling well, darling, so you'll have to play by yourself today."

"m'kay," Draco yawned.

Lucius watched her fuss with Draco's robes and knew that she was reassuring herself that their son was ok.

"Can I take her Colin?" Draco asked, blinking up at Narcissa.

Dumbledore's delighted voice asked, "Colin?"

The boy nodded eagerly, "When I'm not feeling well, Mamma brings me Colin 'cause he makes me feel better."

"Yes, Darling," Narcissa kissed him on top of his head, "that's very sweet. Why don't you go get him, and then we'll go give him to her?"

"Why don't we all go give him to her?"

Lucius turned to look at Dumbledore incredulously.

"I want to speak to her," explained the Headmaster. He was already getting to his feet.

Draco ran to his bedroom to find Colin- a green velvet hound- and the adults allowed him to fuss over Hermione for a few minutes.

Lucius busied himself by straightening the dolls on top of Hermione's bookshelf. Last year they had painted her room to look like the Enchanted Forest from the Young Morgana books. It was done in purple and green, with trees that fluttered peacefully in the painted wind. Several unicorns flitted in and out of the foliage.

The dark wooden floor was polished to a high shine, and cut in half with a blue rug that was enchanted to look like a flowing river. The "river" led to Hermione's bed, a tall, silver four-poster with dark green hangings.

He listened to Draco chatter on about how much better Hermione would feel once she spent some time with Colin. Lucius took in the girl's tired countenance, and hoped that they could get the conversation with Dumbledore over as soon as possible, before she passed out from exhaustion.

Fortunately Draco, though devoted to his sister, had a very short attention span. Narcissa convinced him to go back to the playroom and draw Hermione a "get well soon" card.

"I'll be back soon, Mione!" he promised, pushing Colin into her side and bouncing off of the bed.

Dumbledore chuckled as he watched Draco zoom out of the room. "You are a very lucky girl to have such a brother," he told her, easing into a chair by her bedside.

Hermione, who looked so small beneath her blankets, stared up at him with apprehension. "Am I in trouble, Uncle Albus?"

"No, my dear," soothed Dumbledore, "but we need to have a serious conversation about your friend."

Hermione paled, "Which one?"

"Hermione!" Narcissa admonished from the foot of the bed, "You know very well which one."

The girl sat up immediately, her face coloring, "No! We can't talk about her! I won't!"

Lucius sighed, and moved to sit beside his wife. "Sweetheart, if your friend won't let you tell anyone about her than she might not be the best friend for you to have. People only tell others not to speak about them if they have something to hide."

"Please, Papa," Hermione cried, her eyes welling with tears, "She didn't mean it! She just lost her temper a little bit. She already apologized."

"Apologized for what?"

She clapped a hand over her mouth.

"Come here, Sweetheart." Lucius pulled her into his lap, and tucked her blankets around her so that she would feel safe. The last thing he wanted was for his daughter to feel as if she was facing off against all three of them.

"Now," he said, wrapping his arms around her, "what did she apologize for?"

Hermione still seemed unsure, and he was grateful when Narcissa spoke up.

"You won't get in trouble, Darling, as long as you don't lie."

He felt Hermione take a few deep breaths. "Bella apologized for yelling at me when I told her it wasn't nice to call Arthur a…" She twisted to look up at him, "Do I have to say what she called him, Papa? It wasn't nice."

"No, sweetheart. Not if you don't want to."

"Why was she so mad at Arthur?" the Headmaster leaned closer, his expression intent.

Hermione swallowed, "He said something bad about the Dark Lord."

Dumbledore nodded, "And does she speak to you about the Dark Lord?"

"Oh yes!"

"And what does she say?"

Lucius felt as if his insides had turned to ice as his daughter launched into a description of how warm and wonderful Voldemort was.

"-When he rises he's going to train me to be the best witch ever! Well, almost. Bella says I can't possibly be as good as she is-"

"Does 'Bella' know when he's going to rise?"

"Soon, I hope. Bella says he just needs a little time, but he'll be back. And when he comes back Bella will be able to come and play dolls with me for real."

"Tell me why you hurt yourself."

Lucius could have kicked Dumbledore for his tactlessness. Luckily, Hermione did not seem to care. She sat up a little straighter, and her voice was impassioned as she answered the question.

"Bella called me a bad word. She said I had mud in my veins and I wanted to prove that she was lying." she sat up a little straighter, "But I don't have blood in my veins. It's all blood!"

Narcissa gave a twitch, and he felt as if she must feel as disturbed by this conversation as he.

"That's what she apologized for. She feels bad for upsetting me. She says she never meant any of it."

Dumbledore folded his hands over his stomach. "Can she hear what we're saying right now?"

Hermione shrank into him, and he tightened his hold in reassurance, "Yes." Her head bobbed up and down. "She doesn't like it."

"Why not?"

"She thinks you're going to do something bad."

"Oh? What does she think I'm going to do?"

"Make her go away... But you won't, will you uncle Albus?"

Lucius had to hand it to Dumbledore, the man's smile never dimmed as he said "Well, there's nothing for you to worry about, Hermione. You've done nothing wrong."

His sweet, overly-trusting girl took that as confirmation that 'Bella' would not be going away. She sighed contentedly, and allowed him to move her off of his lap so that he, Narcissa, and Dumbledore could converse in the corridor.

"Albus, what is going on!" Narcissa hissed as soon as they stepped out of Hermione's room.

"Keep your voice down Cissy, she'll hear you." Lucius craned his neck to make sure Hermione was still tucked into bed.

Dumbledore tugged off his spectacles and used his sleeve to clean them. "Does she still have that scar from the incident with Bellatrix?"

"The one from when she was a baby?" confirmed Narcissa. "Yes… do you think it's cursed? Did Bellatrix-"

"I don't think Bellatrix intended for the bond to happen." Dumbledore began, but he was cut off almost immediately by Lucius.

"Bond? What Bond?"

Dumbledore settled his glasses back on his nose. "When Hermione was a baby Bellatrix came and attacked her with a knife-"

"You don't need to speak to me like I'm a child, I already know-"

The older man continued as if Lucius hadn't spoken, "If Bellatrix's blood was on the knife Hermione's magic might have binded it to her magical core-creating a bond. The night terrors she experienced when she was younger… I think those were caused by Bellatrix's incarceration at Azkaban. The timeline adds up, and they started without warning, correct?"

"Yes," Narcissa breathed.

Lucius looked at her, and then narrowed his eyes at Dumbledore, "So how do we break the bond?"

"We don't."

Narcissa crossed her arms over her chest. "What do you mean we don't?"

"I believe that there is nothing to be done. The bond exists, there has never been a successful separation in the history of accidental bindings. To try and cut Bellatrix out would be like slicing out a part of Hermione. The damage would be catastrophic."

Lucius was going to be sick. His eyes focused on one of the photographs that lined the walls. In it, a three year old Hermione held Draco on her lap, and waved happily at Lucius. "So there's nothing to be done?"

"No," said Dumbledore carefully, "I wouldn't say that."

Lucius flexed his hand in an effort to keep it from wrapping around Dumbledore's throat. "Then what would you say?"

"We can put in a barrier to keep Bellatrix from speaking to Hermione."

Narcissa shifted closer, "Will that work?" Her eyes fixed, unblinking, on Dumbledore's face.

"Not forever," the old wizard warned, "Eventually- around puberty, I'd say- Hermione's magic will attack the barrier and remove it because it should not be in place. But by that time we'll have taught Hermione how to be an Occlumens-"

"She's too young," Lucius said dismissively. "Only skilled witches and wizards are taught-"

"There have been numerous children who have become very successful Occlumens. We will teach her the basics, and slowly build from there. As long as we continue to emphasize the importance of her practicing her skills there is no reason why she shouldn't succeed."

Narcissa seemed more optimistic than Lucius felt about this plan. "And it will block Bellatrix completely?"

"Not completely," sighed Dumbledore, "Bellatrix will not be able to speak, or communicate with Hermione directly, but the bond will remain intact. Hermione will still be able to feel her emotions, and Bellatrix will be able to feel Hermione's as well."

"Then what's the point?"

Narcissa shot him a dirty look, "If Bellatrix can't speak to Hermione, she can't tell her how wonderful the Dark Lord is! She can't tell her to kill us all in our sleep."

"If she's feeling Bellatrix's emotions then she's going to- Cissy we can't let that happen! She's too young to feel the effects of Azkaban all the time. For whatever reason, Bellatrix has found a way to keep her emotions to herself. Would you agree, Dumbledore?" He spat, feeling as if he was dangling above a pool of Grindylows.

"That would make sense."

Somehow that didn't make him feel better.

"Then maybe we should just, leave things as they are." Did he really just suggest that they leave the raging, psychopathic maniac in his daughter's head?

His wife scoffed, "Absolutely not, Hermione's just as endangered with Bellatrix there anyway."

The headmaster stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I may have a solution."

Both of them stared at him for a few moments, waiting for him to elaborate. When he remained silent, Lucius prompted, "Would you care to share the solution?"

"I'd rather not say anything until I know for sure." Dumbledore began striding down the corridor with long, purposeful steps, and the two Malfoy's had to hurry to keep up with him.

"I'll look into it at once. When I learn more I'll be in contact. Keep her calm, and don't say anything about our conversation. The less Bellatrix knows, the better."

"Is it safe though?" asked Narcissa, "What about Draco, could he be in danger?"

They had come to the staircase, and Dumbledore stopped short, causing Lucius to bump into him.

"My apologies Lucius, I sometimes forget that I'm not as fast as I used to be," the Headmaster said, turning to smile at Narcissa. His eyes did not have their trademark twinkle. "I understand your fears, Narcissa. But Hermione has been connected with Bellatrix for years without incident. Keep an eye on her, of course, but I have no reason to believe that Bellatrix is a danger to you or your family."

"But she's a danger to Hermione!" Lucius spat.

"A moment ago you were prepared for Hermione to face that danger if it meant sparing her from the effects of the Dementors," retorted Dumbledore cooly. "I am trying to find a solution that will suit us all, and keep Hermione from both dangers. Believe me, Lucius. I have the child's best interests at heart."

Lucius did not particularly believe these words, "You just want to keep your spy as intact as possible."

Something shifted in the air, and Dumbledore pulled himself up to his full height. The smile was still in place, but his eyes were a blaze of blue fire.

"I can see that you are upset, and so I won't take up anymore of your time," he said softly. "Narcissa, I will come when I find a solution. Look for my owl."

"O-of course," Narcissa said, eyes wide as she looked back and forth between the two men.

Dumbledore gave a stiff nod, turned on his heel, and trotted down the stairs. A minute later the ornate front door slammed shut behind him.

"Sometimes," Lucius swallowed the lump in his throat, "I think that man is worse than the Dark Lord."

Narcissa turned sharply to him, "Lucius! You can't mean that?"

He glared darkly at the closed door. "I don't know anymore. I just don't know."

Ronald Weasley was used to being the target of his brother's pranks. He had been locked in more cupboards than he could count, tricked into swallowing all sorts of household items, and put in harm's way so many times that his mother automatically said Episkey every time he walked into the room.

So when he found himself stuck to the bottom of the kitchen table with his lips sealed shut from joke taffy he was not surprised. In a few hours, when his mother checked on each of her children to make sure they were asleep she would find his bed empty. He hoped she would let him stay in the room when she punished Fred and George.

The dark kitchen was suddenly thrown into bright light, and he heard his parents bustle into the kitchen.

"-what you were thinking, Arthur! Did you really talk about-"

"To be fair, Molly, any normal child would have already known that You-know-who is a bad sort. There's something going on. The way he manhandled her out of the office-"

"He didn't?!"

"It certainly seemed that way. The poor girl was screaming and kicking. It was obvious she didn't want to go with him, so naturally I filed a report-"

"You don't think he would ever hurt one of his own children?"

There was a scrape of chairs, and his father's worn woolen slippers came into view.

"Remember what I told you, about the file I accidentally found in the family records?"

His mother's voice grew irritated, "Yes, and I still think you shouldn't have looked. It's none of your business if the child was ado-"

"But it would make sense that Malfoy wouldn't have the same qualms about mistreating someone he viewed as a charity case."

Ron's nose scrunched up in confusion. Why couldn't adults talk about things that made sense? Like Quidditch, or sweets?

"But there was a picture of them in the Prophet last winter, when they attended the Father-Daughter luncheon at the Ministry. They looked very close."

"Pictures lie, Molly."

There was a thunk! as his mother slammed something down on the table, and Ron thought for a brief moment that he might become unstuck. Sadly for him, whatever the twins used held true, and he glowered at his father's feet.

"I don't think Narcissa Malfoy would have sent that nasty howler if she did not care for the child."

"More like she cared about her image. No one likes it when a child makes a scene in public."

"I think that you're determined to think the worst of them. Oh Arthur, did you really file a report?"

"I did." His father's voice, usually so cheerful, was surprisingly harsh. "There's something off about that family, and I will not stand by as an innocent is punished."

"Poor dear. It sounds like she was upset."

"It was… unsettling. Believe me, Molly. If you had been there you would understand.

There was a sudden rap on the kitchen door, and Ron's ears perked in excitement. Both of his parents leapt to their feet.

"Who could- No one's used that door since…"

"Stay there, Molly."

There was a creak of the lock sliding out of place, and his father shouted-

"Dumbledore!"

Ron's eyes widened, and for the first time he was glad to have been a victim of Fred and George's pranks.

"Hello, Arthur, Molly. I hope you can forgive me for the late hour, but there was something I had to tend to this evening, and I'm afraid this discussion cannot wait until morning. I promise to be brief."

"Of course, Albus," his mother said, "come in, come in, tea?"

"No, thank you. I'm afraid that my night is far from over. I really do mean to be brief."

"What is it?" Asked his father.

"I came across a report filed this afternoon, and I wanted to address it in person. I understand that you are concerned about the safety of young Miss Malfoy?"

"I am," his father affirmed.

"Your fears are unfounded. I came here to assure you that Miss Malfoy is very well taken care of by parents who love and adore her-"

"With all due respect, Dumbledore, today Hermione was-"

"-overwhelmed and exhausted. I checked in on her myself, and she is perfectly well. I understand your concern, Arthur. It is commendable that you care so deeply, but in this particular case I believe your prejudices are clouding your judgement. I, myself, visit regularly with Hermione- we are related, after all- and I am content with the fact that few children have ever been as well looked after as she and her brother."

"Did you say related?" his mother asked.

There was a light chuckle, "I am aware that you found yourself with access to the Malfoy family file, Arthur- No need to look alarmed, Molly, I am not here to judge. Sometimes we cannot help ourselves- yes, I am a related to Hermione, and given the circumstances I decided to take a special interest in her upbringing. I had a mind to adopt her once, myself! But when I got to witness the special bond she has with her parents- Lucius in particular, I knew that she was in a better home than I could ever provide."

There was a deep breath, and the old man continued.

"Which is why I have destroyed your report."

His mother gasped, and his father exclaimed, "Surely and investigation is in order!"

"I think an investigation would do more harm than good. Like I said, I am monitoring the situation, I have deemed it safe, and I hope you will bring any future concerns to me. The Malfoy's are not the people you think them to be, Arthur."

Had Ron been a little older he might have caught the hint in Dumbledore's voice. As it was, he had grown very bored, and was counting the cracks on one of the floorboards.

"I'm afraid I must be going. Think about what I've said. If you are not convinced you may owl to arrange a meeting where we can discuss this further. Thank you for your time."

Strained goodbyes were exchanged, there was a groan as the door opened, closed, and then the sound of the lock sliding back into place.

"Well, I hope you're satisfied," His mother said, and there was a sound of tea pouring into a cup.

"I don't know," his father admitted, "I trust Dumbledore, but he wasn't there! We need to keep an eye on the girl. Look out for her, let her know that she's not alone-"

"Oh Arthur, she's going to be fine."

"Maybe. But that family never does anything without a reason. Why take in another child when they already have an heir? Something is going on."

"Or she's just incredibly lucky, and Dumbledore might have been correct when he said that they aren't the people we think they are."

"No," something in his father's tone made Ron listen. And the next words would be the only thing he remembered of this conversation. "You can never trust a Malfoy because everything they do is for themselves. They'll make an allegiance with you one moment, and then turn around and curse you the next. If Dumbledore believes them, that means he's been fooled."

"Arthur, what exactly are you saying?"

"I don't know," there was a tired chuckle, "I've been awake too long, I think. Don't mind me, Molly dear, I'm sure a good night's sleep and a proper conversation with Dumbledore will clear this whole thing up. How was your day?"

"Oh, you'll never guess what word Fred taught Ginny today…"

And as they switched to the lighter conversation of their children, both Weasley's were unaware that their youngest son was staring wide eyed at the floor as he came to a conclusion about a family he had never met.

The Malfoy's were evil. So evil that they had tricked the only person who could stop them, Dumbledore, into believing they were good. You can never trust a Malfoy.

And without Dumbledore, who would stop this tyrannical family from taking over the entire Wizarding World?

Three days later, Narcissa paced anxiously up and down the corridor between her children's bedrooms. She had not slept since her last conversation with Dumbledore, and finally the Headmaster had written that he had found a solution.

I will arrive tonight after 10, the letter had read, Make sure she is asleep.

There had been a healthy dose of sleeping potion in Hermione's bedtime snack. Now the girl slept peacefully, her arms clasped around Colin.

Narcissa leaned against the doorframe and watched Hermione sleep, her chest a flutter of emotions.

As Hermione had been drifting off to to sleep she had called out "Mother?"

"Yes, Hermione?"

"I didn't know that you and... Bella were friends."

"What makes you think that."

"Because Bella said to tell you that she loves you…. and that… she didn't mean..."

Narcissa had tried to get Hermione to finish her sentence, but the girl had already fallen asleep.

Now, several hours later, she studied her daughter's face and wondered-briefly-if it would have been so bad…

She shook her head to clear those thoughts. Of course they were doing the right thing. Hermione had enough to worry about without Bellatrix's voice in her head all of the time.

Narcissa looked around at the sound of footsteps, and stared as she took in Dumbledore's acid green rubber gloves that stretched up to his elbows. Lucius, wearing a similar pair of gloves, carried a sack made from the same material.

Her eyes were immediately drawn to the moving lump at the bottom of the sack. "What's this?"

"The solution to our problems," sighed Dumbledore. "Lucius, if you'll just hold it still- yes, like that. Here we are."

He reached into the sack and gently pulled out a small, white puppy.

"You've brought Hermione a pet?" Narcissa tried to keep the skepticism from her voice.

Dumbledore looked mildly amused, "Yes, but it's not just any pet. I've brought her a Wubble!"

Apparently he had expected her to be more excited by this proclamation, but she found herself unable to respond to his unhelpful statement.

Lucius, apparently, knew more about strange dog breeds than she did. He leant closer to the animal and whispered, "The Nursery dog? I thought they were extinct."

"Not extinct, but almost. There is only one breeding pair in existence right now. Luckily, the owner owed me a favor."

"I'm sorry," Narcissa stepped a little closer, noting the way Dumbledore drew the puppy away from her, "but what exactly is a Wubble?"

"A Wubble, or Nursery dog, as they are sometimes called, is a dog that was developed to help children who had been exposed to trauma of some kind. They were mostly given to Royal and noble children who had witnessed the murder of their loved ones. It's a way to track Hermione's moods- just Hermione's, not Bellatrix's.

"When Hermione touches this puppy, it will bond to her emotions. Somehow-I must admit, I'm not entirely sure- it will convey what Hermione is feeling. That way if Hermione is scared, or distressed, you will be alerted if Hermione herself can't tell you. Additionally, Wubbles have a calming effect on the person they're bonded to. I hope that it will help her sleep soundly."

"So you want to create another bond?" Narcissa scoffed, "How many things do you want in Hermione's head? Let's just bind her to all of us!"

"Cissa," protested Lucius, "This isn't the same. The pup will be bonded to Hermione, but Hermione will not be bonded to it. It's a pet, a pet with calming properties, nothing more."

"And the gloves? Are we to wear gloves for the rest of our lives?"

Dumbledore chuckled, "Not at all. Once the Wubble has bonded with a human, it will stay bonded for life- her life. After she touches him and the bond is complete the gloves will no longer be necessary."

"Him?"

Lucius smirked, "Surely you won't hold that against him, Cissa."

She opened her mouth to retort, and promptly closed it. "Fine." Exhaling slowly, she stepped back towards Hermione's room. "Let's get this over with. I don't want to worry about it anymore."

The dog was placed back in the sack, and the three adults entered Hermione's room.

Narcissa felt slightly sick as she peered down at Hermione. "How are you going to do this?"

"First we will have her bond with the Wubble, that way she can be shielded as much as possible from Bellatrix when we put in the barrier."

They watched as he gently set the puppy down by Hermione. He gently pressed it against the bare skin of Hermione's forearm.

There was a flash of light that sent had all three adults recoiling. The puppy, who had been snow white, was now a light blue. Narcissa held her breath as she watched the puppy circle around Hermione, and finally curl up against the curve of her neck.

She exhaled shakily, and watched Dumbledore begin placing the barrier. A thin silver mist flowed from the tip of his wand. It twisted over itself rapidly, until it resembled a very tight net. With a twitch of his wand, the barrier seemed to melt into Hermione's skin.

"This is the difficult part," whispered Dumbledore, a shine of sweat on his brow. "I need to place the barrier."

Hermione's brow furrowed, and the puppy let out a whine and rolled closer.

It was faster than she expected. There was a moment when the puppy's coat darkened, and then his snout glowed golden, and his color returned to the light blue.

"Occlumens!" Dumbledore whispered.

Hermione shifted in her sleep, and let out a faint whine. Both Narcissa and Lucius reached to stroke her hair.

"It's done." Dumbledore smiled tiredly. "Bellatrix is no longer in her head." He pulled out a snowy handkerchief and mopped his brow with a sigh.

Lucius gently tucked the blankets around his daughter, "What should we do now?" He straightened, and began stripping off the gloves. "Should we Obliviate her? Get rid of the memories?"

"I don't think that's necessary," Dumbledore threw his gloves into the sack, and held it open to that Lucius could do the same. "Young children are often able to rationalize things that no one else can, and the imaginary friends of our childhood are often forgotten."

Narcissa did not feel like pointing out that Bellatrix was not an imaginary friend, but she was very ready for the Headmaster to leave their home. The last few days had been a blur of emotions, and she needed some time to process what had happened.

Dumbledore lingered for only a few more moments. He left with a promise to stop by in a few days.

Narcissa watched him go from Hermione's window. Once he had disappeared through the gates she moved to join Lucius by Hermione's bed.

His arm snaked around her shoulders, and she leaned against him, savoring the warmth.

"It's ok, Cissa. It's over. Hermione is ok."

His reassurance did not soothe her tension. "For now it's over. But Dumbledore said that Hermione's magic will break down the barrier on it's own. We're going to be dealing with this again in a few years."

"Not necessarily," argued Lucius gently, "She's a smart girl. We'll teach her Occlumency… She'll be prepared next time."

Narcissa wished that she could have as much faith in a six year old as her husband did. She reached out and picked up Colin, who had been pushed out of Hermione's arms by the snoring puppy, and hugged him to her chest. Inhaling deeply, she was surrounded by the peppermint scent of Hermione and Draco's soap.

"If Bellatrix mentions any of this to-"

"I know," said Lucius, his gaze fixed on their daughter. "I've been thinking the same thing. We've just got to hope that by the time she's reunited with the Dark Lord we've come up with a very good excuse. After all," he swallowed thickly, "Hermione's going to need all the help she can get if she's going to be…"

He trailed off, and Narcissa glanced up at him. His eyes glistened in the candlelight, and a bolt of guilt struck through her body.

She hugged Colin tighter. Hermione will get through this, she thought, she's got three highly skilled teachers, and more nerve than any child I've ever met. Yes, she was certain that if anyone could handle being a spy for Dumbledore-

But the thick lump in her throat had her pressing closer into Lucius' side.

What had they gotten themselves into?

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