Disclaimer: look chapter one!

I'm so sorry it took me so long, bur RL kept me busy!

cyiusblack, Darkness-Lightness, HermioneSnape, pinkpaws-marauder, MistraRose, Brass Camera, Vampric Dragoness, sucbatrex and Living in the Clouds thank you so much for your review.

I hope you enjoy this!

Chapter 10:

1. January – 31. January

The woman was moaning and writhing beneath him in a way that showed Nathaniel that she was simply playing her part, but he didn't care. He actually didn't even know her name, not that it mattered. He hadn't seduced her to give her a good time but simply to find some release of his pent-up...pressure.

He liked Isabelle and other as the wench beneath him he respected his future wife. But a man could only take so long without a quick tumble between the sheets and he wouldn't disgrace his little Belle by taking her before their wedding night.

Much to his disappointment though, his little interludes weren't as good as they used to be. Somehow it wasn't that satisfying any more, not to mention he could barely stand the brainless chatter or the not so subtle hints about marriage these days. His betrothal obviously hadn't changed their silly efforts to become the future Mrs. Fawkes.

As if he would ever consider one of this greedy slags, even without Isabelle in the picture. The thought of his fiancée made him instantly groan deep in his chest as he pictured her lying in his bed, moaning his name in pleasure and clutching his back for support. Her gold blond hair would fan around her head like a halo much like it did the afternoon they had a picnic on their grounds and she had let herself fall backwards into the soft summer grass. Nathaniel hadn't been able to resist and leant above her. To him she had looked like an angel and he had kissed her.

He was ripped rather harshly out of his dreamy state as the taste of firewhiskey invaded his mouth. Ripping his lips away from the witch, he had to blink a time or two to realise it wasn't Isabelle he had kissed. His Belle tasted sweet and her kisses were soft, nothing like the sloppy, foul tasting one he just received.

What in Merlin's name was he doing here? But even as he felt disgusted with himself thinking of Isabelle while laying with another, he didn't stop his hips from gyrating. Quite the contrary, he firmly pinned the hands of the nameless woman over her head and started to pump into the witch more forcefully, nearly violently which only brought a series of thrilled noises out of her. Somehow that disgusted him even more and with the disgust came anger.

He looked down at the woman with a nasty sneer on his face, while he forced himself deeper and faster inside her but she was so lost in her own sensations that she didn't even noticed it.

"Oh Nathaniel!"

"Don't talk to me!" he spat. This all felt so wrong.

"Nathaniel!"

Fawkes was just about to yell at her to shut the hell up, when he noticed the broken voice didn't come from the woman beneath him. With a start he rolled off of the obviously surprised redhead and looked to the door. There, dressed in one of his favourite robes, with wide open eyes and open mouth was Isabelle. She looked even smaller than usually as her eyes flickered between him and the nameless witch who didn't even have the decency to cover herself.

"Nathaniel...what...why...I don't understand," she whispered and Fawkes could see she had a hard time holding back her tears and he could feel his own panic rise in his chest.

"Belle, it isn't..." he shut himself short before he could end that sentence. She didn't deserve that. Although it was by no means unusual to have a mistress beside his wife, he understood that Isabelle was too innocent and kind-hearted to understand or accept that.

The hurt and betrayal was written clearly in her eyes, which weren't able to hold back her tears any longer. Thick, clear drops were running down her cheeks and each and every single one was like a stab in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms but as soon as he tried to stand up she made a step back.

"She doesn't mean anything to me, Belle. I don't even know her name, she is just a way to release some pressure." He winced as soon as the words were out. It wasn't helping that the stupid slag was shamelessly sprawling on the bed beside him and started to drew patterns on his back. He jumped out of the bed as if he had been burned, his hand clutching to the sheet around his middle.

"Belle-"

"Don't," she sobbed and he felt as if someone had stabbed him. "I...I thought you were different. I thought...I thought you really li-liked me," she hiccuped. "I'm so stu-stupid. I-I love you so much and you..." she stopped there shaking with tears while the stupid slag behind him had the gall to chuckle which distracted him for the blink of an eye.

"I hate you! I wish I had never met you!" Isabelle sobbed and with that she ribbed the diamond ring from her finger and threw it at him before she turned around and escaped through the door.

"No!" Like so many years before Nathaniel jumped out of his bed over to the door but nobody was there. Isabelle was gone and this time it was forever.

Breathing heavily he leant against the dark wood before he glided down to the floor. He had been so stupid, so utterly stupid.

Sex was nice and fun but none of his pretty but brainless conquests had been worth the price he had paid in the end. The price wasn't fair, also he knew that had done wrong. That it was his fault...at the very least he should have followed Isabelle.

At least that.

Instead he had turned to the witch on his bed, had gripped her hair and kicked the screaming and still naked woman out of his room before he killed an entirely bottle of firewhiskey to drown his remorse.

Even now he could see her tear strained face clearly before his eyes, as if she had just left him and for the second time in his life he made the same mistake again. Instead of seeking out his witch and come clear with her, he drowned his self-pity and remorse in firewhiskey.

Nathaniel should have known better.

Draco Malfoy slowly browsed through a dusty part of the family library, while he was lightly humming to himself. A year or even some months ago it wouldn't even have crossed his mind to do something that outrageous. A Malfoy never expressed his feelings, regardless of their nature. His father had thumped that into him since he had been a small child. But things had changed, now that Lucius Malfoy wasn't any longer. Not that he would ever allow someone else to see him like this, but it was a start.

Well maybe Luna. But after all she was the whole reason he was humming in the first place. For a moment he stopped searching through the bookshelves, as a mental picture of her appeared in front of his eyes. Her blue eyes beaming brightly at him and her lips covert with a soft smile.

"Whipped," he mumbled with a snort but the smile remained on his lips. He couldn't really find it in him to be ashamed of his feelings for the blonde. She had been in his thoughts ever since the dreadful time she had spend in their dungeon but it wasn't before the Halloween feast that he couldn't stop thinking about her. And luckily she had given him a chance.

Draco had been with a lot of girls in his barely nineteen years. He had dated a handful, had his fair share of sex and kissed even more but not one of them had made him feel like Luna did.

Hell, he hadn't even been aware that he could feel the way he did around her. At times it was pretty frightening but after a few deep breaths and a look at her face, he usually mastered to get a grip on himself. But mostly he simply enjoyed her company. With her around he felt oddly at peace and he could allow himself to lower his defensive walls and simply be himself. Not the Malfoy heir or prince of Slytherin just Draco, who was a lot less spectacular than many claimed him to be. But it seemed enough for her and he was clever enough not to question a good thing when it was happening to him.

So it was only understandable that he wanted her to be happy. And if the odd creatures she was always talking about made her happy so mote it be. Merlin, he was even standing in his own library looking for books about rare creatures so he could surprise her tomorrow.

"Definitely whipped," he muttered again and pulled another book out of the shelve that looked interesting enough.

Magical creatures -Curses, cures and curiosities, was engraved in gold letters above the thick leather cover. It looked old from the sight of the worn of leather and faded letters but it was the odd title that had him frowning.

Curious he skimmed threw the pages, careful to not damage the old paper. The book was handwritten which wasn't odd considering its age but what had him frowning was that the texts were written in different handwritings and the pictures looked like they had been added by different persons too. It appeared more like a collection, ideas, facts and experiences gathered over a long time period than an actual book.

Before he knew it Draco was engrossed in fascinating facts about unicorns, dragons, hippogriffs and thestrals. Possibilities that never before crossed his mind about uses in potions, herbology and various other fields were carefully written on each page. What made him worry though were notes about curses and dubious suggestions that had all alarm bells in his head ringing. It wasn't dark magic in itself but it wasn't far away from it either.

Slowly he turned the page and stared at the very skilful drawing of another magical creature. This one was a phoenix. It wasn't gold and red like Fawkes had been but almost of a complete blood red colour bar a few feathers that shimmered silver white. He had never seen another phoenix apart from Fawkes so he had no idea if there was a normal colour for these creatures or if the headmaster's pet had been special due to the unusual circumstances. Anyway it wasn't the bird in itself that had him staring but the cycle that was pictured.

Instead of the normal bird-fire-ashes-bird cycle there was another cycle added. One where the creature was a wizard before it was turned into a bird while in the middle of it all all was the picture of a witch. Both wizard and witch were marked with runes. Nyd the rune of hardship, destiny and need was painted on him while Beroc the rune of womankind and femininity decorated her. Runes wasn't his best class so he had to look it up later what each of them represented beyond what he knew about them but for the moment he was more interested in the text on the next page.

Draco could feel his breath hitch in the back of his throat for a moment before a sore expression sprawled over his face.

It seemed it was time for a little talk.

Nathaniel was so drunk that he was astonished that he was even able to remember where he had put it, let alone to coordinate his legs to bring him across the room. But somehow he managed to stumble from one side to the other till he finally reached the old desk and sunk down on the chair. Clumsily his fingers started to nestle on the wood directly beside the drawer on the right side before he remembered that he had to use his wand to open the secret case. Slurring the indication he had to try five times till he was finally able to reveal his childhood hiding place.

It was magically enlarged and filled with all kind of treasures so he had to rummage around it for a bit, before he finally found what he was looking for. But finally he was holding the small box between his fingers and opened it. He felt nauseous and his vision was more than a bit blurry but somehow he managed to focus enough to get a passable view on the petite diamond ring sparkle in the dim light of the room. It was still as beautiful as the day he brought it -a perfect stone for a perfect woman.

Unfortunately it seemed that he wasn't the perfect man. And he wouldn't even be a man for much longer if he mucked it up a second time. The problem was that he would muck it up either way. Nathaniel knew that there was a right and an easy way -well not so easy if he was honest -but he couldn't bring himself to take a risk. Not if it was himself -his sanity, life and future that he was risking. No he couldn't do that. Even after all that happened he didn't find it in him to open up to her and well talk to her. That would mean that he had to be honest and honesty meant vulnerability and that...that meant...perdition.

And next time he would have no hopes for salvation.

His vision was getting more fuzzy with every passing moment and the fact that he felt as if someone had spun him around for longer than was good for anyone was the only warning he got before his vision got black and he sunk onto his outstretched arms.

"Where is he?" The shrill voice of a woman could be heard through the manor. Nathaniel mind was still foggy and his head felt as if it would burst every moment if he wasn't careful. So the loud, piercing voice didn't do anything for him. Unfortunately for him, the noises weren't only getting louder but seemed to get closer too.

"Madame I must -" A male voice -from the sound of is his very irritated father tried, but the woman would have none of it.

"Don't you Madame me," she screamed, her voice nearly overturning before she changed into a language that sounded suspicions like Italian. Something in his subconscious tried to inform him that that piece of information was important but instead of listening to his inner voice, he shut his eyes close, pulled the sheet over his head and tried to ignore his monstrous hang-over.

"Madame! You're forgetting yourself!" By now his father sounded angry, but was still trying to sooth the furious woman. "I think it would be best if you returned to you home until you' have cooled off, Lady Hend-"

"Don't you dare to patronise me," the woman interrupted him again. "I thought you and your family were noble and genuine people. I believed my husband when he told me I had nothing to worry about. That our little Liebling would be in good hands. That your son would treat her the way she deserved it!"

Something about the sound of her voice wasn't right, Nathaniel noticed though his foggy perception. Well, apart from the impossible high pitched tone.

"Look what he did to her!"

And than it clicked. The woman was sobbing. That was what made her sound so weird. Again his brain tried to tell him that this little fact was important. That it should tell him something, but all he could focus on was the throbbing pain behind his forehead.

"He is responsible for what happened to her! He destroyed meinen kleinen Schatz!" The witch howled and as if someone had pulled a switch in his brain he bolted upright so fast, he nearly fell out of his bed.

"Isabelle!" His mind screamed and his legs unsuccessfully tried to fight off the sheets, so he could stand up, while his brain tried to put all the pieces together. Merlin! It was Madame Henderson who was screeching like a banshee at his father.

A fearsome woman even without the raised voice, he remembered from the few times he had met her, but very devoted to her family. Belle had told him that she was from a very old wizard circle in Germany which she had left to be with Lord Henderson. A bond out of love, instead of money, power or wedding contracts between the families, which was highly uncommon. Maybe that was the source of Belles overly romantic views.

Thinking about Isabelle once again made him feel disgusted with himself, but this time fear was accompanying that feeling.

"Madame, what in Merlin's bloody name are you talking about," the fact that his father was cursing, which only happened on rare occasions, was a dead proof sign that he was on the verge of exploding. But there also was an underlying tone of unease. "I'm sure whatever misconception -"

"Misconception?" The fury interrupted the lord and master of the home and her voice boomed through the house as if she was using a sonorus charm. "You and your son may call it a misconception but where I come form it is an unforgivable humiliation! I should never have given in to my husbands pleas to move back to England. This country contains nothing but misery for us. All the sacrifice I've already made and now my daughter," the woman sobbed. "My beautiful, little daughter!"

Finally Nathaniel managed to stand up and after a moment of dizziness he even got his feet to carry him through the room. Once in motion it wasn't as hard as he feared it to be and although his head still hurt like hell he was determined to find out what the uproar was about.

Apart from the obvious -the clearer part of his brain remained him. But it was also that part who pushed him forward. Urging him to find out if there was more.

If he had thought the woman's voice loud before it was nothing compared to what his father must be experiencing. The more corners he rounded and the nearer he got the shriller and louder the voice got, till it reached a point where he almost covered his ears and turned around to find a calmer place where he could his massive hangover.

But he couldn't stop his feet from walking towards the source of the noises. It was his fathers turn again to sooth the woman, when he turned around the corner into the corridor where Madame Henderson, his father and a lot of frantic house-elves were standing.

The similarity between mother and daughter was undeniable. Both possessed beautiful golden hair and striking blue eyes that could easily capture the attention of anyone they liked. Other than Isabelle though, she was quite small. But the way she was holding herself upright, let alone the magic cracking around her like an angry swarm of bees made up for that.

Nathaniel hadn't much more time to look at the woman before her eyes fell on him and if it was possible the fury in them rose even further. If looks could kill he would have dropped dead on the floor.

"YOU!" she spat and hadn't it been for his fathers quick reaction would have done more than simply raised her wand.

"Madame, I demand that you leave my home! Now!" All compassion and calm was gone from his fathers voice and Nathaniel knew from experience that this was a bad sign.

"You killed her! You killed her!" Madame Henderson didn't seemed impressed in the slightest by his father. Truth to be told she didn't even acknowledge him. Not even as he took her wand from her. Her eyes were steadily fixed on him while her finger pointed accusingly in his direction.

"Killed her?" He choked and suddenly he felt oddly sober. Gone was the dizziness and he if someone had hit him with a bludger he couldn't have been more shocked.

He knew that he had hurt her -badly and he felt disgusted with himself but.. "I -I don't understand?" he finally stuttered, his tongue still a bit heavy.

"Don't think I don't know what you have done! You men are all the same. I tried to warn her," the woman spat while tears were still flowing down her cheeks. "But she wouldn't hear any of that. She said that you were different. That you would be her Märchenprinz, she dreamt about since she was a little girl. She believed you to be her Seelengefährte," she snorted. "As if someone like you could ever be her soul mate!"

Nathaniel could feel himself wince although it had more to do with his father´s sharp look than the angry woman. Slowly the older Fawkes seemed to get a picture of the finer details.

"You destroyed her, with what you did. I tried to comfort her, but words were not enough to nurse her bleeding heart, so she tried to stop the hurt the only way she could think of."

A feeling of fear found its way into his body and squeezed his heart in an uncomfortable grasp. "What, did she do?" he whispered. Not sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

For a long moment there was nothing but deadly silence. Slowly he dared to look into the eyes of the golden haired woman who looked so regal and dangerous that it was sending chills down his spine. But as if his question had drenched all energy out of her she remained silent.

"What what did she do?" he pressed on. He needed to know.

Blue eyes, that were so much like Isabelle's but coevally so much harder and unyielding stared at him and he had the feeling she could look into his soul.

"She tried to kill herself in the river not far from our home." Her tone was much too calm for his taste all too sudden and before his father could intervene she had stepped in front of him. "The healers did all they could and all that could be done now is wait and hope," she whispered. "But there is no will left in her. You took that from her."

He opened his mouth to say something. Anything, but no word would came out of it.

"I hold you responsible for it," Madame Henderson voice suddenly seemed to have found its lost energy. She wasn't screaming or screeching like before but she wasn't whispering either. Instead her voice was ice clear and didn't leave any room to answer back. "You destroyed her, and I curse you for it." And suddenly she changed into another language he didn't understand.

"Ich verfluche dich, Nathaniel Fawkes. Wie einst Odin sollst du Leiden und Schmerzen erfahren auf dass du in ihnen Weisheit erwirbst. Brennen sollst du und zu Asche vergehen nur um wieder auf zu erstehen. Deine Stimme soll anderen Trost spenden, doch selber sollst du keinen erfahren. Deine Tränen sollen Leben retten, doch niemals dein eigenes Leid stillen. Lasten sollst du tragen, so schwer wie neun Mann, doch die Last deines Herzen soll dich stets erdrücken. Nur die die deiner Seele ebenbürtig ist soll die Macht haben den Kreis zu brechen. "

Even though he didn't understand a single word he couldn't stop the shivers that were running down his spine. Whatever curse she was using, it was powerful he could feel it even without the magic crackling around her body.

"'Vom Fest der Toten bis zum Fest des Feuers soll es dir gewährt sein um sie zu werben, wie es Recht ist. Doch gelingt es dir nicht sie für dich zu gewinnen soll das Feuer dich erneut verschlingen auf dass du aus der Asche wieder auferstehst. Ohne Hoffnung auf Erlösung. Für alle Zeit."

And with a cruel little smile she finished it. "So mote it be!"

„NO!"

It was his own cry, which woke him from his dream this time. He was still sitting in front of his desk, his clothes damp from cold sweat and his head throbbing like hell. Nathaniel wished, not for the fist time, that he taken her more seriously. Though he had feared her words while she spoke them, he soon shrugged them off, as nothing happened, as a desperate try of a hurt mother to frighten him.

Two weeks later he was punished thoroughly for his arrogance and carelessness. He didn't even remember his last moments as a human, since all he did in the days after Madame Henderson left was wallowing in self pity with the help of an extra large bottle of his father´s best Fire Whiskey.

His father was far from being amused after hearing what really happened between Isabelle and him and also he wasn't really happy about Madame Henderson`s performance he blamed him. Not for having a mistress, mind you, but for being stupid enough to get caught in the act, literally and in consequence destroying every chance to bind their families together.

Isabelle was all that was on his mind, but not once did he think of visiting her and eventually ask for forgiveness or at least look after how she was doing. No, he couldn't bear the thought of being eyed with the same look she gave him before she left his chamber.

He had been such a coward.

"And you still are," he muttered to himself before he pushed himself up and walked to the bathroom. He knew the right thing would be to talk to Hermione and explain things to her. Not only his past with Isabelle and the curse but also the situation between the two of them.

He should tell her the truth. But like the fearsome coward he was he didn't.

Hermione was happy. Genuinely happy.

The auction had been a complete success and the money from it would help a lot of orphans in the future. After all that happened in the war they shouldn't have to worry about money. And now there was no need for that.

Harry was trying to make up for the last month and she was willing to make it work. She had missed her best friend terrible, and although she couldn't overlook his past behaviour she was sure that they would find back to each other. Maybe not to the point they once were but to something more real and stable. In the past they had been thrown together mainly because of Voldemort. With him gone now they had to find a solid base with there friendship that could withstand day to day problems.

Funny that that seemed so much harder than fighting the darkest wizard of all times.

Ron on the other hand was a complete different matter. He had stopped making side comments, though he didn't stop other from making them. Specially Lavender seemed more hostile than usual towards her, probably to make up for Ron's silence.

Hermione wasn't sure what to make of it, honestly. The sneer on his face when ever he was looking at her had chanced into an odd mixture of anger and shame but most of the time these days he made an effort to avoid looking at her at all. It still hurt to be treated like trash after everything they had been trough, but she wasn't willing any longer to let that affect her happiness.

And with a warm feeling, her thoughts turned towards Nathaniel. The last month seemed like a part out of someone else´s life. Hermione Granger could never have so much luck as finding someone like Nathaniel. It felt to much like a silly, hidden wish come true and she had to remind herself frequently that she wasn't dreaming.

Not since she had started at Hogwarts had she felt that hopeful and excited. Back than her hopes emerged from the wish to be finally accepted. To finally find a place where she was like everybody else, with children who didn't fear her abilities and would understand her thirst of knowledge.

Of course it hadn't taken her long to realise that she would never be like everyone else. Even here in the Wizarding world she was different. Her blood and intelligence had always separated her from the world that should have welcomed her, but in the end she had found her place. She had to fight for it, bore insults and even torture and although a lot of things had changed she knew that the fighting would never end, but somewhere between it all she had found her place.

With Nathaniel she had hopes to fulfil her long lost longing of companionship and love. Since New Years eve they had spend nearly every day together. Talking, laughing, reading while simply enjoying each others company and kissing. A lot of kissing, Hermione thought with a fluttering heart and a warm smile on her lips.

She had not much to compare him to, but Merlin Victor's and Ron's kisses had never affected her the way Nathaniel could. Those two never managed to raise that funny feeling in her -like she was running on adrenaline and could burst every moment from the sheer amount of energy that ran through her body. She could get easily drunk on his kisses and from the way he was responding to her, she hoped he felt the same. He sure was as hell was as eager to be near her, touch her and speak to her as she was. That feeling was completely alien to her but likewise she felt that she could get accustomed to it easily.

Today was the last weekend in January and she had promised Nathaniel that she would spend it with him in Fawkes manor, since she was nineteen she was free to spend the weekends as she pleased. They planned to take a ride with the Sleipnirs and explore the grounds of his property some more. They had done that before and it had been a lot of fun, although it was ice cold and she couldn't feel her fingers afterwards.

Snuggling and kissing with Nathaniel on the couch in front of the fire afterwards had been even more fun, she thought and could feel her cheeks heating up a bit as the memory crossed her mind.

With quick steps and a silly smile on her face she crossed the last corner and hurried towards the guest quarters where Nathaniel was staying. She had agreed to meet him there, after she had her breakfast with Remus and Teddy.

The witch in the paining in front of his doors, an old witch in a bright purple dress, wasn't in the frame so she was just about to knock, when she heard voices from the inside.

Hermione was more than a little surprised when she noticed that the second voice belonged to Draco. It was odd, because she never had the feeling that those two liked each other very much, though it was always hard to tell with the blonde, even though he had changed in some ways.

"...know enough!"

"I'm sure I have no idea, what you are talking about." Nathaniel sounded irritated and although it wasn't like her to eavesdrop on others, her raised hand stopped in mid air.

"Oh, save the act," Draco drawled and sounded entirely like the spoiled boy she remembered form her previous school years. "I'm not some stupid Hufflepuff or one of those goody-goody Gryffindors."

There was along pause before Fawkes finally responded. "And what do you want?"

"I want you to tell her," Draco's ice cold voice answered without hesitation, "I want you to tell Granger the truth! About the curse and why you are so determined to claim her."

"That's none of your business."

"Oh, but I make it my business!"

As if someone had spilled a bucket of ice water over her Hermione felt her smile and happiness fading away, before she slowly lowered her hand.

The truth? Hermione remembered that she wanted to ask him about the curse all along but somehow simply forgot about it with the events in the past month.

So there was more to the curse and to why he was so eager to spend time with her, she added. That hurt. It hurt a lot, but now she wanted to know more and the best way it seemed was to simply wait and listen.

Hesitantly she pressed her ear against the door.

TBC

A/N: I used my mother language for the curse. So here is the translation

part 1

I curse you, Nathaniel Fawkes. Like Odin you shall suffer and experience pain in order to gain wisdom. You shall burn to ashes only to rise again. Your voice shall give comfort to others yet you shall never be comforted. Your tears shall save lifes yet your own suffering shall not be ended.

You shall carry the burden of nine man, yet the burden of your own heart shall always crush you.

Only the one who is equal to your soul will have the power to break this circle.

part 2

You may be granted the time from the feast of the dead until the feast of fire to court her as it is proper. If you fail to gain her favour fire shall once again consume you and you shall rise from the ashes. Without hope for salvation. For evermore.

The runes:

Nyd: the rune of hardship, destiny and need. It symbolize Odins sacrifice of the nine days and nights he hung stabbed (by his own spear) against Yggdrasil to gain wisdom through pain and exhaustion.

Beroc: the rune of womankind and femininity decorated her.

A/N: First: Please don't kill me for the cliffhanger.

I know this is not what some of you hoped for but there was a reason Nathaniel was cursed after all. But, this story isn't finished yet and there is still hope...

So let me hear what you think^^