Author's note #1: FYI possible trigger towards the end of the chapter. You'll begin to recognize what kind as you read. Carry on!

Just like Draco had said, Narcissa had passed by the suite to see Hermione and to express her deepest regrets about her attack. Among asking how she was feeling, she made sure to point out that no one got away with hurting a Malfoy and that whoever was responsible would reap what they sowed. Whether she had meant through the Ministry or other means Hermione didn't ask. She didn't want to know and she wasn't going to probe to find out. Before leaving Narcissa asked her about how she had liked the suite. There was no lie to be told about her current living arrangement, so Hermione was honest and said that it was beautiful. And then the lovely matriarch of the family (as Frizzle constantly described her) smiled quite proudly and replied that she was glad. She also added that it was one of the smaller suites, and that others went as high as eight bedrooms –perfect for when extended family and friends came to visit.

When Hermione had told Ron and Ginny this the next day, one was rolling their eyes while the other was having a laughing fit.

"Wow, she's really laying it on thick, isn't she?" Ginny said as she wiped her tears and got the last of her giggles out.

"Very much so, yes. Thank you, Frizzle." Hermione said as the lovely house elf put out a fresh pot of tea and three cups on the coffee table. He bowed out after she told him that they could pour the tea themselves.

"Not that I'm unhappy you're not ranting about SPEW-"

"S.P.E.W, Ron." The brunette scolded.

Ron smirked before reaching over for the pot of tea. "But why aren't you? I expected you to be stark-raving mad by now."

"Believe me I was. The idea still rattles me, I promise you. However, after talking to Frizzle a bit before bed I'm more...lenient with his position."

"How come? You've had a heart attack with all the other ones."

"Well, as much I detest the word 'cultured,' that is Frizzle's nature." Hermione sighed. "I asked him, outright, if he would rather be free. And honest to Merlin I would've given him a sock if he told me yes. But he said no. He said that it had nothing to do with the fact that, technically speaking, he was bound to the Malfoy family for the rest of his life. He likes the family since he's been with them."

Ron snorted. "Red flag, –Ow!"

Hermione smiled happily to herself at her Stinging Jinx and set her wand back on the couch. "May I finish?"

"Yes…"

"Right. Well, Frizzle's new-ish. He's only been with Narcissa and Draco about a year after the war ended. That said, according to him, he's been treated well. He likes being with them. Serving them...and me. So much so that he told me if I ever freed him he'd still follow me wherever I went."

"That's beautiful." Ginny said dreamily. "And some serious dedication."

"You're telling me." Hermione chuckled. "But I think after Draco and I leave here I'll still free him. His pleasant demeanor hardly fits those 'nice rags' that he's forced to wear."

"So you're really going to find somewhere else then?" Ron questioned with a sincere bout of hope.

"I'd like to, yes. I promised myself that I would still think about it though."

"Hmm, in that case I'm going to have to visit you every day because this…" Ginny took a minute to look around the living room. "This is a breathtaking bit of living space."

Hermione nodded. It really and truly was.

"How's the wedding planning going, Ginny?"

Ginny groaned as she cupped her face with her hands. "Ugh, don't talk about weddings. It's one month and three days away and I still feel like I have a million things to do. I've been planning for months! How did you and Malfoy do it in so little time?"

"Rich people," Hermione shrugged. Ron began choking on his tea and then stared at her as enlightenment seemed to hit him.

"Merlin's beard… Hermione, you're rich now!"

She couldn't help but laugh. "Yes, you're quite observant. Thank you."

"No, no, really think about it." Ron continued. "This isn't a normal kind of rich. This is… This is Malfoy rich. Do you realize the things you could get just at the drop of a hat? Or a drop of a name, rather?"

"I suppose so. Quite honestly I haven't given much thought to Draco's money-"

"Your money,"

"Our money," Hermione further amended. "Although, when it does cross my mind it's rather daunting. There's nothing that I would spent it on –not that I'd go on a spending spree or anything."

"A charity, perhaps?" Ginny asked. "Might as well do some good when you can."

Do some good when I can…

Hermione grinned. "I'll keep that in mind."

Hermione's second day at Malfoy Manor didn't only have Ron and Ginny for guests. Blaise and Liliana stopped by later on in the day as well as Uriel –Lydia too, to the brunette's surprise, seeing as she'd been on assignment up until yesterday.

"I'm so sorry that I couldn't see you sooner." Lydia frowned. They were all in the living room, this time eating light snacks before dinner in the next two hours.

"Don't worry about it, honestly." Hermione reassured her. "You had good reason to be away. How did the case go anyway?"

"Can't discuss specifics, but it went well." Lydia beamed. She then turned to Liliana and added, "Be glad I can't talk about it. It'd probably be enough to send you into premature labor. How much longer do you have?"

"Three more months," Liliana replied proudly as she patted her stomach. "I still can't believe it. The time went by so fast."

"It sure did." Blaise said with a wide grin. Then he turned his mischievous eyes on Draco before adding, "Before we know it it'll be Hermione saying that she's only got three more months to go."

Draco immediately began to choke. He had been in the middle of eating a finger sandwich during Blaise's statement and both of those things had been a bad combination.

"Blaise," Hermione playfully admonished as she patted her husband on the back. "How many times do I have to tell you not to drop bombshells on him when he's not expecting it?"

"Well, it wouldn't be called a bombshell if he was expecting it, would it?"

"I bloody hate you." Draco glared as he got the last of his coughs out. Blaise laughed.

"On the contrary you love me and nothing you say will get me to think otherwise."

Draco rolled his eyes before attempting to eat again while Uriel picked back up the conversation.

"Have you thought of any names yet?"

Blaise nodded. "Just this week as a matter of fact. Giana Carolina if the baby is a girl and Luka Giovanni if it's a boy."

"Oh, those are lovely names." Hermione practically squealed. "I've always been partial to French names myself, although," she said with a side-glance to Draco. "I'm pretty sure I won't be using any of them in the future."

"Why not?" Lydia asked.

"Tradition. Draco's mother's family has a penchant for using constellations and stars as names."

"That's a wonderful tradition!"

"Not if the kid's name turns out to be Corvus or something equally horrible." Blaise gave a mock shiver.

"Our children will have great names, thank you very much." Draco grumbled at him.

Blaise chuckled before turning to Hermione. "I sure hope you have as much fun as I do annoying him."

Draco chucked what remained of his sandwich at Blaise's face. Hermione watched the juvenile display with a wide grin as a true food fight broke out between the "adults." Uriel played referee while Liliana waddled her way to the restroom, leaving Lydia ample opportunity to ask a desperate question.

"Has there been any sort of breakthrough with your case yet, Hermione?" Lydia questioned her. Hermione sighed and shook her head.

"No, there hasn't. According to Harry, it's a temporary dead end considering Nott's compromised memories. Travers is handling the painting's frame and maybe that can lead to something, but the others never did so…I don't know."

"Might I make a suggestion?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, of course."

"I think espionage would work wonders for your case. Dark attracts dark. That said, the case that I just wrapped up stumbled a bit on the cursed objects cases that's had the Ministry stumped. I didn't overhear much –just a whisper here or there –but...what I'm saying is that I want to go under again. You know, get into contact with a few of Nott's people and maybe figure this out."

"Lydia...oh…I…I couldn't possibly ask you to do that!" Hermione stammered. Lydia took her hand and squeezed it gently.

"You're not asking me. I'm telling you. Someone tried to kill my friend and that monster, whoever it is, is not going to get away with that. So, here's me informing you that I'm taking this on. I already talked it over with Uriel this morning and he's on board." Lydia smiled. "Anything for our friends."

"It's a bit odd to have a Healer appointment on a Sunday, isn't it?" Narcissa asked as she watched her son help his wife into a thick cloak. She was sitting by the fire after having just finished breakfast with the pair. It had been lovely, in her opinion, to have meals with them since they had been staying at the Manor. Hermione was turning out to be quite the conversationalist and it made their family gatherings that much better.

"It is, but special arrangements and all that." Draco replied. "We'd rather not grace the cover of the Daily Prophet again."

That had been an utter disaster. The day of Hermione's attack someone had managed to get a wonderful snapshot of Draco carrying her in his arms and calling out for help. The headline had been heinous. The speculations that had followed were worse. Thank Merlin for Potter (who knew he'd ever say that one day?). With his statement about what had really happened to Hermione circulating it had cut down some of the rumors. There were still those, however, who were convinced that he had done something to his wife and hoped and prayed that he would be held responsible sometime soon.

"Oh yes, of course. Well, I hope your appointment goes swimmingly, dear."

Hermione beamed. "Thank you, Narcissa. Ready to go, Draco?"

Draco nodded, bid farewell to his mother, and then led the way out of the suite and soon out of the Manor altogether. His wife's Healers had been very specific concerning her travels. Until after her first post-attack evaluation (which was today) she wasn't supposed to do anything strenuous. Apparating and taking a portkey counted as such as it altered the body a bit during travel. Flooing might have been alright, but ever-paranoid, Draco didn't think breathing in soot and Floo flame smoke would be good for her. And so they would be taking a hideously long journey from Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire that included both a bus (the blond was not thrilled about that aspect of the trip) and a train to London.

Hermione had had her shares of laughs while on the bus. Her husband had been particularly bothered about the "lack of space" and the "constant jerks" when the bus stopped. Trains were the only forms of muggle transportation that he liked, as well he should what with the Hogwarts Express. It was her great hope to get him on a plane one day.

"Ah, Mrs. Malfoy, Mr. Malfoy." Hermione's Healer greeted once he saw them.

"Healer Hasbrook," the brunette nodded as she slipped off her cloak and passed it to Draco.

"How have you been feeling?"

"Fine. Great, actually. And quite frankly that bothers me a bit."

"I keep telling her to stop looking for something to be wrong and just be happy about it." Draco said from his chair in the corner of the room. Hermione had moved to sit on the examination chair while Healer Hasbrook took her arm in his hand.

"Your husband is right, Mrs. Malfoy. You should be thankful –especially considering the other victims." He raised his wand and pressed it in the crook of her elbow. After a quick spell her blood pressure numbers appeared in a puff of red above her arm. "A little high, but nothing out of the ordinary. We can attribute it to nerves if your blood work doesn't turn up anything else."

"Trust me," Draco chuckled. "It's nerves."

Hermione childishly stuck her tongue out at him while her Healer went about drawing a bit of her blood. It was handed off to one of his aides and soon the examination chair had been lowered down to an examination table and Healer Hasbrook's wand was working its way from her head down.

Draco, ever proficient in hiding his own emotions but accurately assessing them in others, was trained in on the Healer's face. He smiled here and there. Nodded at other times. He even gave a "Good. Very good," once in a while. Everything was fine until the man's wand reached Hermione's abdomen. The change in his demeanor was instantaneous –as well as Draco's.

"What is it?"

Hermione hadn't been looking at Healer Hasbrook's face. She wasn't sure what she would've done if she had seen him frown while examining her, and so she had closed her eyes throughout the entire thing. But upon hearing Draco's tone of voice, she detected something that she feared and finally opened her eyes.

"Healer Hasbrook?" Hermione addressed him. He glanced at both her and Draco in turn before lowering his wand and taking a step back.

"More tests still have to be done." He said immediately. "This was just a precursory examination to detect any anomalies. Nothing here is definite."

"But there is something." Draco pressed. "What did you find?"

Healer Hasbrook sighed before allowing Hermione to sit up. "It didn't show up before, and perhaps that's the nature of the curse in the painting's frame. It would be up for a DA Auror to decide. There's...a concentrated mass of magic residing in your uterus. As I've said, more tests need to be done. It might be removable. It might not be a mass at all and just be scarring. However, depending on the damage then…"

"Then what?" Draco asked as he stood from his seat.

"Then...the likelihood of having children could range from minor difficulties to...not being able to have children at all."

Hermione had heard everything Healer Hasbrook had said, but it was muffled and sounded miles away. She could see the frown that she had been dreading. She could also see Draco from where she sat and his facial expression completely crestfallen. As her Healer said, more tests still had to be done, but how long would that take? Today? Until the end of the week? Next week? No, she couldn't wait that long.

She wouldn't.

Hermione hopped off the examination table and headed straight for the door.

"Mrs. Malfoy?"

"Hermione?"

She didn't pay them any mind. She did, however, slow down when she passed her husband and grabbed her wand that had been protruding out of her cloak pocket. Alarmed, Draco rushed out of the examination room after her and hurried down the hall.

"Hermione!"

She still didn't say anything. Instead she raised her wand and Draco knew the beginnings of apparation when he saw it. He ran forward in order to grab her arm before she left without him and felt the awkward pull through the air before finally landing in an alley, wobbling on his feet.

Draco shook his head, quickly checking himself for any signs of splinching since apparating mid-motion was not the best of ideas. He would've checked Hermione too had she still been by his side. Instead she was gone. He stepped out onto the sidewalk, hastily looking left and right for his wife when he spotted her further down the street. By the looks of it she was headed towards the Ministry.

Draco ran after her, completely out of breath when he reached her, and continued following her as they headed inside the quiet building.

"Hermione," he panted. "What are we doing here?"

"It's Sunday." Hermione ignored his question. "Do you think Travers would be working on the frame now?"

"I don't know. Maybe? Hermione," he reached for her hand to stop her from going into the lift. "Stop. We need to talk."

"No, we don't. We need to get to that frame, so are you coming or not?"

Draco recognized a witch with a vendetta when he saw one, so he sighed and nodded. They both got into the lift together and it wasn't until they had made it to the Auror Department that he realized that he shouldn't be here. He was still suspended. And of course as luck would have it Travers, the overzealous git that he was, was here on a Sunday, in the Containment Center. He was walking down the hall with massive parchment notes in his hands and a self-inking quill between his teeth when said quill fell to the floor as he spotted the couple.

"Malfoy? What are you doing here? Aren't you suspended?"

Before Draco could respond (not to mention threaten him in a thousand ways not to tell anyone that he was here), Hermione beat him to the punch.

"Where's the frame?"

Travers furrowed his brows. "I'm sorry?"

"The frame," she repeated. "I need to examine it."

"Are you mad?" He sputtered. "I can't let you near that thing. It nearly killed you!"

"Listen to me, Travers, and listen well." Hermione raised her wand and aimed it at his chest. "I will see that frame, and you have three seconds to tell me where it is before I curse your prick clean off. One," she lowered her wand below his navel. "Two,"

"It's three doors back this way." Travers blurted out. Hermione walked around him and headed where he gestured. He let all of his notes fall to the ground as he began to follow her. "You shouldn't be touching it! Malfoy, what the hell is up with your wife?!" He asked once the blond got in step with him.

"Don't ask." Draco replied.

The men got to the door just as Hermione stepped inside.

Travers sucked in a shot of air. "Don't touch-!"

"I don't need to touch it to read it, you arse." Hermione snapped at him.

The first thing she realized once she had gotten to the room was that the pull she had first felt was gone. Either the magic inhabiting it had tapered off by now or all of it had drained into her. Into the...mass that Healer Hasbrook had talked about. She walked all around the frame, training her eyes to spot the tiniest details if they were there. They had to be there.

"What are you looking for?" Travers asked.

"Runes. There has to be runes here."

"There were, but you can't see them just with your eyes. Wait, let me go grab my notes."

Draco waited in anticipation as Travers went to retrieve his fallen notes. In the meantime he watched his wife –his very angry and determined wife –as she continued to try to spot the runes that she wouldn't be able to see anyway.

"Here," Travers said as he came back. He had shuffled around parchment pieces until he found the one that he was looking for. It was a superimposed image of runes carved onto the inside of the painting's frame.

"These haven't been translated yet." Hermione announced. "Why?"

"It's Ancient Runes," he scoffed. "We're having someone portkey in to have a look tomorrow because no one here is competent enough to translate it. No one except you."

Hermione slowly nodded, her anger slowly transforming from blind rage to deep sadness as her eyes flickered over the runes repeatedly.

"That's why I came." She said softly. "So I could know. So I could be sure." Tears filled her eyes and they began to trickle one by one before she handed the parchment back to Travers. He slipped it from her fingers, confusion written over his face, before turning to Draco and wordlessly asking what was wrong.

"It's another Targeting Spell." Hermione told him –Draco too, so that he could understand. "A Targeting Spell coupled with one for infertility. Tell Harry and the rest of the Investigative Division that they're most likely looking for a pureblood aristocrat dead set against sullying a fellow pureblood lineage with that of a muggleborn. This particular Targeting Spell requires something very personal of mine for it to work –hair, blood… I'd suggest going through the guest list at my wedding. It's the only way whoever did this would know for sure that Theo wasn't there..."

There was a heavy pause after she had finished talking. And then she stumbled on her feet, her body aiming straight for the floor.

"Hermione!" Draco shouted as he ran for her and grabbed her around her waist before she hit. She wasn't unconscious though. She hadn't even fainted. She was just crying. Crying with her hands over her face and her shoulders shaking. He just sat there with her on his lap and let her sob violently into his chest.

As for Travers, he simply stood where he was, deeply uncomfortable and astounded at the scene he had just witnessed. He was no fan of Malfoy's, but he wouldn't wish this on anyone. Certainly not on Hermione. And so he frowned bitterly, slowly backing out of the room and giving one last look at the dastardly cursed object that had ruined a couple's life.

Author's note #2: Well, things have certainly taken a terrible turn :(. I had thought about doing this early on, changed my mind because I thought that would be horrible for Draco and Hermione, but then the lovely nikimass09 brought up the suggestion in a review. After that I said screw it and just put it in after all. This story isn't all smiles and fairy dust hence the "hurt/comfort" portion of the rating. They've been through a lot as a couple already, so here's a bit more.

-WP

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Guest: Thank you! Glad that you liked Narcissa. I really do enjoy writing her :)