EPILOGUE #1

Malfoy Manor – Wiltshire, England

2 January, 2003

Mopsy greeted her at the gate, at the boundaries of the property with a squeal of happiness. "Mistress is home!" With a quick pop, she appeared on the other side of the gate where Hermione stood. "Master will be so pleased! He has been so lonely without the Mistress. Mopsy knows."

The little house-elf grabbed her hand and slid them through the wards like melted butter over toast. She had forgotten that the little domestic servants had the ability, honestly, having not seen one since the last time she'd been here.

They appeared with a pop in the middle of the library.

In the middle of the day, Hermione hadn't expected anyone to be awake, perhaps except Draco. To her surprise, he wasn't awake either – he was passed out on the plush sofa.

"Mopsy will take Mistress' coat and bring tea while Mistress wakes the Master with kisses," the little elf, her first friend here at the house, kindly offered with a knowing smile that crinkled her grayish skin and brightened her eyes.

Hermione easily agreed, not wanting to make too much noise. The elf popped away with her coat and to go to the kitchen. She wouldn't be back for a bit, so Hermione glanced about, unsure where to put herself to wait. It seemed rude to sit without being invited to do so.

"Then I invite you to sit," Draco grumbled, his mercurial eyes opening with all the languid grace of a sleepy dragon's. His smirk was slow as it slid across his beautiful features. "I knew you'd come."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "After the dreams you've been throwing at me over the six months, how could I not?"

His teeth were white, his fangs deliciously sharp. "Wanna shag?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're unbelievable. I'm not in the house two minutes and you're already thinking about-"

He was on his feet and looming over her before she could finish the sentence. "I'm always thinking about sex with you, my beauty."

The dreams had been vibrant, tangible, but she'd known they were only dreams while living half a world away and could consider them simple fun. Now, up close and personal, she was a little intimidated to be back here, standing so close to the most dangerous creature she'd ever known – the man with the capacity to own her soul.

"If you'll let me," he whispered, easily reading her thoughts, his nose coming into contact with her temple, sliding across and down, past her hairline and over the whorl of her ear.

"How… do you do that?" she breathlessly asked as his hands reached out to lightly rest upon her waist, pulling them together until they meshed.

Draco placed a small kiss upon her lobe, and when she didn't protest, he moved down over her throat, sniffing as he went, reacquainting himself with her scent. "Not sure," he admitted. "Another unknown to add to the long list of them – like the daylight walking, the feeding off of…"

"Sex," she moaned as he licked her pulse point. "Can you still do that?" Her fingernails dug into his upper arms.

He chuckled and let his fangs graze her throat. "Do you want to find out?"

"You're asking me now - not just taking as you please anymore?"

"I want your happiness, Hermione," he murmured, caressing her cheek with his own. "I let you go because you needed me to, hoping every day that you'd want to come back on your own - and you have. Now, I want you to have me any way you want, my beloved. You say how much and when, and I'll do anything to you that you want. If you don't want me to mate you again, I won't. We can just be lovers. Or if you want... I would love to make you my Concubine again. But it's your decision to make, freely. You're all that matters to me - nothing else is as important as your pleasure."

He nipped very gently with his blunted teeth over her pulse, careful not to let his sharp canines pierce her flesh. It was a remarkable measure of control on his part, she knew from her research over the time they'd been separated.

She'd used their year-and-then-some time apart to learn all that she could about Vampires, traveling the world to speak to them - but only after returning her parents' memories and fixing that relationship, and reconnecting with her surviving friends from school and the Order. She'd recently agreed to take on the position of Head of the Department of Magical Creatures-Being Division in the new Ministry in London to keep in close, personal contact with the various Vampire Clans (Edward Worple had even come to visit her in her office one afternoon and they'd swapped stories over tea and biscuits that he'd brought in from his most recent trip to Japan - where he'd been when the plague had struck Britain).

In that long stretch of time that she and Draco had been 'divorced,' Hermione had allowed herself time to think about her life and what she wanted out of it. She'd realized that she'd missed her ex-lover - not just for the sex, although that was certainly a factor, but also for his companionship. When she'd spent months obsessively working on a cure for the zombie epidemic, he'd been right there with her, along for the ride. He'd cared for her in ways no one ever had, attentive to her needs and intuitively understanding her moods. Regardless of their bad past history as children together, and despite his role in the war, everything had changed between them the day he'd been Embraced. He'd become someone else as a result of that experience - someone unconcerned with blood prejudice any longer. He'd grown up, and the truth was, she'd liked the man he'd matured into. Yes, he'd retained his Slytherin underhandedness - as evidenced by how he'd handled their bonding and his withholding of information from her - but she really felt that he'd meant it when he'd said he was sorry for his bad judgment. That he'd been willing to let her go - to break their bond - to prove his sincerity had been the ultimate apology.

It was that revelation that provided the opening to let Draco back into her life. One night six months ago, she'd lowered her mental blocks and called for him, hoping something might still exist between them that would alert him to her interest. He'd responded immediately, as if he'd been waiting for the opportunity. From that point forward, they'd slowly, tentatively reconnected, their relationship evolving over time in a natural progression of stages from talking to holding hands to touching to kissing to... other things. It had been like a regular love affair, only the dating had all taken place in her head, while she was asleep.

Yes, leaving him had been the right decision for them both, despite the pain it had caused, as they'd both used the time to grow, to establish themselves into the new world order that had risen from the ashes of war and disease, and to determine what was most important in life.

She scraped her fingernails with light pressure along his skin, her arms coming about his neck, and ran her touch through his long hair, luxuriating in the feel of it once more against her skin. "Are you saying that you'll agree to be my slave now?"

"Absolutely."

"Will you wear a collar for me?" she joked.

"If you want." He teased her flesh with light licks and kisses, driving her mad with want very quickly. "Do you forgive me?"

Gods, she'd missed this - the real thing. Dreams had been nice, but flesh on flesh was the best. Her left leg ran up the outside of his, and she wrapped it around his thighs, pulling their cores together. "I already said I did in the dream last night."

"Say it again," he requested, his tone desperate, his erection hard through his slacks, against the juncture of her thighs. "Say it's okay to do this."

"I want you," she breathed against his neck, biting down with a bit of strength - enough to leave an impression of her teeth. "I forgive you. I love you."

Finally, she surrendered to the words and the feelings she'd been holding back for so long, and they – more than anything else – set her free at long last. With a groan, Draco gathered her up into his arms and in a flash they were gone from the library and appeared in his bedroom. Their clothes were banished with a negligent wave of her wand, and their bodies came together once more as if it were the most natural fit in the world.

They missed afternoon tea - and dinner. Mopsy didn't mind at all.

TO BE CONCLUDED...