Rose woke up in a cold sweat. She had had a dream – or rather a nightmare.

Standing in the cold, the air whipping the bottom of her dress around her legs, she was alone. She looked around, but there was no one anywhere. She called out, once, twice, three times but no one came. She was completely and utterly alone. Around her, the frozen grass bent in the wind, little frozen dew drops flying through the air to pierce anything they could reach. Rose shivered and wrapped her arms around her as she began to walk. Stepping around a fallen stone, Rose found herself wishing she was at home. In her warm bed, or in her mother's arms. Mother. She cried out, calling for her mother. But her voice just bounced around in the wind. Walking between the rows of thick slabs of stone, Rose thought she saw a figure. A person standing under a leafless tree. She cried out to them, but they made no effort to move to her.

As she watched, a second figure joined the first. A smaller, younger person. Rose began to run, her black dress and hair pounding out behind her as she headed into the wind. The moonlight shone down, illuminating the faces of the people under the tree. Two platinum blonds. She slowed as she reached them, calling out to them but getting no response. They turned, as if finally realising that she was approaching. They stared at her for a full moment before turning and walking away, leaving her behind. She tried to follow them, but her feet would not obey.

Struggling with herself, Rose eventually got her muscles to obey, but she found herself falling backwards to the ground. Her hands froze the second they met the ground, and she clambered to her feet, wrapping her hands in the hem of her dress. Then she realised she was wearing a dress. It was made of a soft silky material as dark as the night sky. The hem ended just above her knees and was torn and ripped as if she had run through a bramble bush. Her arms were bare and covered in goose bumps as the cold air raced over her skin.

Standing on her tiptoes, she looked over the barren land. The only thing she could see as she stood with her back to the tree, were rows upon rows of cold concrete stones. Curious, she walked over to the closest stone. She knelt beside the dirt mound that lay in front of the stone, noticing the stone had letters on it.

Stumbling back, Rose tried to get away from the stone as tears ran down her face. She tripped over a crumbled stone. Sobbing, she curled up as small as possible – her mother was dead and the people she considered her family had deserted her.

"Rose. Rose, honey. Wake up."

Rose's eyes shot open. She looked around in the dark, unable to see. She sucked a breath in, trying not to panic, but failing. Slowly, her eyes began to adjust to the little light in the room. She found herself being pulled from her bed and into someone's arms. Familiar smells surrounded her as she snuggled in. Then she pulled away sharply.

"You… you were dead."

"I'm right here. I'm not dead Rose."

Rose slowly raised a hand, putting it on her mother's cheek. She felt real, and alive. It was a dream. She isn't dead. No one is dead. She leaned back into her mother's arms.

"I'm...I'm sorry." Rose whispered softly as she cried silently.

Hermione was confused for a moment, unable to understand what the small girl was apologising for.

"Rose, honey, what do you mean?"

Rose stopped crying, looking up at her mother's dimly lit face, seeing nothing but concern.

"I done something. And Scor woke up. But I didn't wake you up."

"What do you mean? Woke Scor up?"

"When he was sleeping. In the coma. I don't know how, but something happened and there was warm light and then he awoke. But you didn't."

Hermione was temporarily stunned. She had no idea what Rose was talking about. The curious side of her wanted to go, leave the room and confer with Draco what had happened at the hospital. But the other side of her, the mother side, knew that Rose needed her more.

She stayed at her daughter's side, holding her. Not a word was spoken. They just revelled in the presence of one another.

The door slid open, allowing entrance to two blonds. Draco walked in quietly, holding Scorpius in his arms. The second he let Scorpius down, the boy was racing over to Rose. He hugged her before sitting down next to her. They held their own conversation in such quiet tones that Hermione, sitting a mere few feet from them, couldn't hear a word they said.

Hermione stepped away from the children, walking over and sitting next to Draco on a cotton candy coloured sofa. He didn't say anything, barely acknowledged her presence other than a brief nod in her direction. He was too involved in trying to work out what was going on.

"What happened at the hospital?" Hermione asked softly, keeping her voice as quiet as she could to exclude the children.

Draco shrugged a shoulder elegantly. He buried his head in his hands for a moment before looking at the woman beside him. Her face showed nothing but concern and confusion. Probably mirroring my own expression.

"I have no idea." He muttered. Hermione instantly frowned at his words.

"But, you were there. You should have some idea..."

"I don't know. Okay? I have no idea what happened." He snapped, cutting her off instantly.

"How...?" She whispered.

Draco didn't bother answering. He was thinking through what had happened at the hospital, but he was asleep, he didn't see his son awaken. Therefore he had no evidence Rose was involved at all.

"Draco..." Hermione started. He swung his gaze to look at her, frowning as she flinched at his stare.

"Sorry, what?" He asked softly. He was suddenly aware she had been speaking and he hadn't heard a word of it.

She frowned at him disapprovingly. She walked out of the room, indicating for him to follow. He did so, but reluctantly. He had a headache and knew that nothing good would come out of listening to Hermione's theories. But, in his efforts to be nice, he decided to listen. No matter how outrageous they were.

"As I was saying...Hey!" Draco walked past her, into his open bedroom. He motioned for her to take a seat as he leaned back against his pillows and headboard. She followed him in, gazing around. Or, attempting to. The dark made it hard to make out any details.

"As I was saying..." She paused, waiting for him to interrupt of ignore her once more. But he didn't.

"Yes?"

"Oh, so you are listening now. Glad I have your attention Master Malfoy." She huffed. He didn't react which just fuelled her annoyance.

"Now, I think Rose woke Scorpius up. Healed him possibly from whatever was keeping him under."

"Yeah." Draco drawled lazily.

"Yeah? That is all you have to say?" Her voice began to rise.

Draco found himself glad his room had a silencing charm on it.

"My daughter possibly saved your son's life and all you can say is yeah?" She shrieked. She took a few deep breaths to try and calm herself.

Draco had to bite his tongue to stop himself replying with 'yeah' again.

"Did the doctors at least give you a copy of their findings?" She asked, this time more calm than she was before.

"Nope." Draco hadn't even thought of that.

Hermione muttered something that sounded like 'useless males...can't do anything right..."

"Would we be able to get the report?" Her voice had dropped so it was quiet. Quiet and dangerous.

"I don't know." He muttered foolishly. The second the words left his mouth he regretted it. She leapt up from where she had been sitting. She glared at him – or at least he assumed she did as he couldn't see her face properly in the dark. Good thing too, because if looks could kill...

"Something major has happened. Rose saved your child. Something could have happened; she could have a healing ability and all you don't even care."

"I never said I didn't care."

"You act like it. And actions speak louder than words."

He could easily imagine her standing with her I-know-more-than-you look on her face and her hands on her hips. He couldn't actually tell, but she was.

"I never said I don't care." Though at the moment I don't feel like caring, my head is pounding as if someone slammed me into a brick wall. Or I was drinking for a month nonstop. Or at a very loud quittich game for twelve days. Or all three at the same time.

Hermione continued to look at him, silently.

"How do you know it is not just her magic kicking in? Her accidental magic?" He spoke softly, sensing Hermione was feeling scared of the magic her daughter had performed.

"I..."

"Has she shown any magic before?" Draco had to admit he was hoping this was just a case of her magic showing itself, but something was nagging him in the back of his mind, saying it was more than it seemed.

"Yes. She was only two when she began summoning her teddy bear to her at night."

"Well, so chances are this is just a flare up of her magic. She must have wanted to prevent what happened to you from happening to Scorpius."

"I hope so." She replied. Draco thought he could sense her hesitation.

"But...?" He had to ask.

"But I get the feeling it isn't. Rose seems to have gotten closer to Scorpius lately."

"Hmm" Draco had actually believed that the reason the two children had become closer because they disliked Hugo. But then, the two had been close since day one. Vaguely aware of Hermione's voice, he stared out the door. In the hall, his son slipped into his own room having left Rose to sleep.

"Why was Scorpius awake?" She didn't get a response, even after waiting for as long as her patience could handle. "Why were you in with Scorpius?" Hermione tried.

"He woke. Something about a nightmare." Draco really didn't think anything of it. If anything, all he wanted was to go back to sleep. But that nosey woman was still blabbering on as she stood in his bedroom.

"Hmm..." She thought, then realisation sunk in. "Rose woke up from a nightmare."

"So?" He couldn't help thinking Hermione was grasping at straws.

"So, what are the chances of both kids waking up from a nightmare at the same time?"

Draco thought about giving her a random probability, but then realised Hermione would not like his smart answers. Not one bit. He contemplating the probability of the children having the same nightmare, then contemplated the chance of Hermione spending her time sticking her nose into this new mystery. The latter had the higher chance. By a long shot.

Hermione scowled as she looked at Draco, who hadn't been listening to a word she had said. She sighed but got no response. Huffily, she walked out of the room, slamming his door behind her. Thankfully, she didn't see that even that didn't get a reaction.

Draco looked up, finding his door shut. Finally, that woman was getting on my nerves. Can I now get some sleep?

"I've got it!"

Draco sighed as Hermione's shrill voice cried out. He had barely seen her for the past three days. No one had seen a lot of her. She had spent all her time in the library, buried in mountains of books. She called it 'research'. He called it 'insanity'. In all her research she managed to forget about her kids. Leaving Draco wondering as to what would happen if he was not there; What would happen if she had never been taken to his house. Instead, left living with Ron. She wouldn't have been researching what she was, but if she had something that she had to research, chances are her kids would have been forgotten. But then, he had stopped Rose from interrupting her mother. So chances were also that they would be fine.

She burst into the room, a dusty tome in her hands. He noticed of the two kids in the room, neither of them gave her a second glance. And Hugo was upstairs in his room so he didn't see the outburst.

"I've got it!" She cried again, shoving the book into his face.

He didn't bother looking at the book. Instead he gently pushed it down to look up at the witch in front of him. Her hair was frizzy, a reminder of the old days where her hair was a nightmare come alive. Her skin was a shade or two paler than normal and shadows on her face told him that she was tired after having very little sleep for the past few nights. His one attempt at getting her to go to bed had ended after she sent a hex at him and blown him out of the room.

She dropped down onto the sofa beside him, shoving the book onto his lap. She had a gleam, a sparkle in her eye. She knew she was onto something.

Draco looked down at the heavy book. The smell of dust wafted through the air, causing him to wrinkle his nose. Impatiently, a finger tapped at a paragraph halfway down the page. He let his eyes wander down to the indicated paragraph, and reluctantly began reading. Knowing full well it was better to skim read the text rather than have the know-it-all rapidly explain it to him.

Famila Bond; a rare and strong, irreversible bond. Done through uncontrolled, powerful wishing magic, one child wishes with as much power as they can for something for the other child. Often this is when one of the children is sick or dying. This bonds them through their magic and through their emotions and is almost always between siblings or best friends. They will often share the same emotions and the same dreams, able to calm each other with just their presence. Stronger bonds have differences, no two are the same.

Only able to be done by children as they cannot control their magic, the Famila Bond is always an accidental result. This bond lasts for their life, often lessening as they come into the years where they learn control.

"So you think Rose managed to perform this…bond?"

"Yes. Look at them; they are as close as can be. And you did say Scorpius woke up after having a nightmare identical to the one Rose had." Hermione looked to be conflicted between wanting to bounce around and be happy, or sitting down, confused and saddened by the situation.

There had been only five examples of the bond listed in the book. None of the pairings had successful lives; all had been unable to live far from each other and had not had long lives, three examples had died for each other. It was a dependency bond that could be strong enough to kill. The very suggestion sent a shiver down his spine.

Could it be a coincidence? Or did Rose really manage to form a bond with Scorpius. Somehow, the thought didn't surprise him much. He knew Hermione's children would have strong magic, just like that of their mother. But how strong, no one knew.