{ Chapter Eight }

Four months later

Work had picked up for the MLE in the past few months. All of the part-time agents had been called back to full-time duty, and Draco had been working double shifts and weekends for weeks now. They were all wishing for the days when they merely sat around, hoping for something to happen.

That had ended when the first of three murders had been reported. All three had been found in their homes by a family member. All three had been muggle-borns. All three had been married to pure-bloods.

Draco and Harry were leading the investigation and had spent countless hours following leads and chasing down dead ends. Neither of the two men had slept more than a few hours a night, and they were both on call twenty four hours a day.

The stress was getting to him, but it was more than just the stress of the case. Draco had been putting off talking to his parents for several months now. He had actually contemplated not even telling them at all. He knew he couldn't do that, though. He would face up to his father.

Sooner or later.

He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself before stepping into the fireplace and emerging at Malfoy Manor. He did not visit the manor often anymore. There were far too many bad memories held within the stone walls. Ghostly screams echoed down the corridors. Cries could be heard coming from empty rooms.

No, this building was no longer his home. It was a house of terrors that he avoided at all costs. He came to the manor only once a month, for a family dinner that his mother had insisted on.

He sat at the dining room table to his father's right, across from his mother, as he always had. The food was exceptional, as always, prepared to perfection by their house elves.

"Do you have any leads in your murder investigation?" Lucius asked about halfway through the meal. Draco and his father had not had a great relationship growing up, but Lucius had grown to have a certain amount of respect for his son in the years following the war.

"Nothing solid." He chewed on his steak thoughtfully, realizing this could be an opportunity to feel his parents out on the subject at hand. "I don't think its coincidence, though, that all three were muggle-borns and married to pure-bloods."

He watched his father carefully. This was information that had not been readily given to the public. He saw a flicker of something cross Lucius' face, but he couldn't be sure what it meant.

"Out of curiosity, what would you think if I were to marry a muggle-born?" Draco somehow managed to keep the anxiety off of his face as he watched his father for a reaction.

"Surely you know the answer to that, Draco." Lucius sneered at him. "I would say my son is dead to me. I will not have a mudblood in my family."

Draco's heart dropped. He had expected as much, but found himself to be disappointed all the same.

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic, dear. Who is she, darling?" Narcissa's face had lit up and a smile formed on her lips. "Have we met her?"

Lucius nearly choked on his steak.

Draco internally noted her enthusiasm, but externally he rolled his eyes at her. Then he considered his response. He could always go for something snarky like 'yes, you both met her when she was being tortured in our drawing room.' Probably best to leave that part out for now…

"I was speaking hypothetically, Mother."

"Narcissa! You cannot seriously be excited about the prospect of our son dating, let alone marrying a mudblood?" Lucius' voice was low and dangerous, but she didn't seem to notice.

"He has not shown any interest in any of the pure-blood witches we've tried to set him up with, Lucius. I was starting to think I needed to look into a good wizard for him. So yes, even the prospect of a muggle-born daughter-in-law is better than none at all!"

Draco's fork clattered to his plate. His mouth opened and closed several times as he tried to come up with the words to express his thoughts in that moment. He found none.

"I'm not sure which is a bigger disgrace, Cissy. To have a son that is gay or to have a son that marries below his blood status." He turned his focus back to Draco and sneered yet again. "I am quite sure that either will get you disinherited."

"Oh Merlin! I am not gay!" He stood, dropping his napkin on his plate as his chair scraped against the hardwood floor. "I work twenty-four hours a day. I don't have time for dating. And I am not going to marry some simpering half-wit simply because she's a pure-blood. Thank you for the lovely dinner, Mother, but I really must be going now."

He didn't wait for their response before turning and walking out of the dining room. Later he would be able to laugh at the idea of his mother thinking that he preferred wizards, for now, though, he was simply horrified at the entire idea.

He had been home only a short time, long enough to take a shower and put on some flannel sleep pants and a t-shirt, when his floo glowed green and Narcissa stepped out of the flames.

When he saw the flames turn green, he had assumed it would be Blaise coming through, so he hadn't bothered to cover up his work. Now, however, he flicked his wand and all of the papers stacked up neatly and stored themselves away in his desk drawer.

"Draco, darling, you left without any dessert! Pinky made your favorite, too. She insisted that I bring it to you." She set down a box full of chocolate mousse on his desk and stepped back.

"Why didn't Pinky just bring it to me herself?" He made no move towards the box, recognizing it for what it was. It was an apology, maybe, or a bribe for more information. Probably a little bit of both.

"I didn't mean to embarrass you at dinner, darling. You know that your father and I will support you if…"

"Ugh. I'm not gay, Mother." He threw his hands in the air in frustration. "What will it take for you to believe me on this?"

Narcissa smiled a very sweet, innocent smile. The kind of smile that told Draco he had just fallen into her trap.

"You can tell me who she is."

He narrowed his eyes. He could tell her. He really should tell her. Especially since he had less than two months left before he needed to act. He made his decision then and took a deep breath.

"It's a long story, Mother." He stood from his desk and moved over to his armchair, motioning for her to join him on the couch.

"I don't need the details, Draco. Just give me a name." She sat on the couch facing him and poured herself a cup of tea.

He watched her carefully, not at all sure that she could be trusted with this information.

"I can't give you her name, Mother. Lives could be in danger if it gets out to the wrong person."

Her lips curled down in a pout.

"So what can you tell me, if not her name?"

Draco watched her for only a moment as she sipped her tea before nodding his head and continuing.

"I can tell you that she's in an abusive relationship and she needs my help to file to have her marital bond dissolved. By law, though, if I file on her behalf I agree to take full responsibility of her. Which means that I have to marry her myself."

Narcissa lowered her tea cup to the table and watched her son carefully. He was leaving out quite a bit of the story, she was certain of it.

"This witch, she is a muggle-born?" She waited for him to nod his head in assent, and then went on. "You must be very close to her to be willing to do such a thing?"

He laughed as he poured himself a drink and sat back in his chair.

"You would think so, but I honestly haven't spoken to her more than once or twice since Hogwarts."

She eyed him closely as she chose her next words carefully.

"Your father was completely serious, you know. Personally, I never really put much stock in the whole blood-purity thing. Your father, though, he believes it whole-heartedly. He always has. If you barely know this witch, why would you give up your entire inheritance for her?"

Draco exhaled deeply before standing up and crossing to the window. He stood there and watched as a fine mist softly fell across the grounds. He could feel his mother's eyes on him, watching him, waiting for a response.

"She's the one that cast the shield charm, Mother." He watched her reflection in the glass and saw her hand rise to cover her mouth. She then lowered her hand to rest right over her heart. She knew exactly what he referred to. "After she cast the shield charm and the ceiling began to collapse, she pushed me out of the way of the falling stones. She saved my life, when she had no reason to do so. Now it's my chance to save hers."

Narcissa had tears in her eyes as she moved to stand beside her son at the window.

"I won't tell a soul, Draco. But please, tell me her name. I want to know who my future daughter-in-law is."

He considered her for another long moment before realizing that she would know soon enough as it was.

"Very well, Mother, but you can't tell anyone. Not for another two months." He swallowed thickly and took a deep breath. "Her name is Hermione Granger…Weasley."

Narcissa's eyes widened and the color drained from her face. She closed her eyes and leaned against the window sill. Of course she remembered the girl. She remembered the girl only too well. Slowly she slid down to sit on the window seat. In her mind she was calculating dates and coming up with something so unbelievable she could barely fathom it. If what Draco had said was true, and she had no doubt that it seemed to be, then this woman, this witch, had fought alongside him and saved his life only weeks after being tortured in his home. What kind of a person did that take? A stronger person than she would ever be, of that she had no doubt as well.

"I'll talk to your father. See if I can make him see reason."

"Don't worry about it." He took a deep breath and released it. For the first time in months he did not feel a weight sitting on his chest, crushing him. He felt free. "My decision won't be based on his approval, one way or the other."

Seven weeks later

Draco Malfoy practically fell out of the fireplace with sheer exhaustion. The clock struck one o'clock in the morning as he stood and dusted himself off. He had been working a late shift with Potter, patrolling Knockturn Alley. There had been a rash of break-ins in recent days, along with thefts of several dark items. As a result, all patrols had been increased. Draco was feeling it in every bone in his body.

He collapsed onto the couch heavily and felt his eyelids sliding closed. Sweet sleep beckoned and he was ready to heed the call.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

His eyes flew open and his hand grasped his wand at the sound. Immediately he was alert, all evidence of exhaustion forgotten in a rush of adrenaline.

It didn't take him long to discover what was causing the offensive noise. An owl, small, brown and nondescript, sat on the windowsill and held an envelope in his grasp. The bird stared at him with a look that clearly said "it's about damn time, now what the hell are you waiting for?"

He released a breath that he hadn't even realized he was holding as he slid his wand back into its holster. Mumbling something about damn ruddy birds, he made his way to the window and took the package from the owl. The owl didn't fly away immediately, which meant it was waiting for a reply.

Great, he thought. Sleep would have to wait.

He returned to the couch and examined the envelope in his hands. It was completely blank, no indication that he was the intended receiver at all. There was a bulge in the package, indicating there was some sort of object inside, and it had some weight to it. He retrieved his wand once again and performed a series of charms over the envelope, looking for any sign of magic, charms or curses. Finding nothing, he slowly opened the seal and looked inside.

His eyebrows furrowed as he reached his hand into the envelope and wrapped his fingers around a rock. The rock, or more precisely the piece of stone, was about the size of his hand. One side was smooth, cut and shaped to precision. The other side was rough, jagged. On the smooth side, a date had been carved.

His hand tightened around the stone and he closed his eyes as he inhaled sharply. The date, that date, would be carved into the wizarding world forever. The Final Battle, The Battle of Hogwarts, the day Harry Potter fulfilled his destiny, the day Voldemort was defeated once and for all. Different people remembered it different ways.

For Draco, it would forever be the day that Hermione Granger had saved his life, twice, and he had sworn to return the favor someday.

The piece of stone in his hand, a piece of rubble from Hogwarts, from the exact wall that had nearly crushed him, and would have if Granger hadn't pushed him out of the way, was a reminder. A reminder of the debt he owed. After all, he owed his life to her, and now she intended to collect.

He looked at his calendar and was surprised to find that it was now September 1st, their fifth wedding anniversary. He had known this day was coming, but it still shocked him that it was finally there.

He stared at the stone, at the token of his debt, for many minutes. He had spent over two years figuring out what he needed to do to repay the debt. He knew what it would take, and he knew the consequences of those actions. He also knew that it was his choice. She would never make him do it.

The owl screeched to remind him that it was still waiting for his reply. If he sent the token back in the envelope, he would in effect be declining her request for help. If he sent the envelope back empty, she would know that he was ready to repay the debt and he would do whatever he could to save her life.

He ran his fingers through his blonde hair and glanced at the clock again. It was now almost two o'clock in the morning, and apparently the next day was going to be a very long day. He stood, handed the envelope to the owl, and watched as it flew out the window, carrying a wordless message back to the witch that no one had seen or heard from in over two years.

The token weighed heavily against his palm. He looked at the stone once more and smiled to himself, because despite knowing that he would in effect be signing over his inheritance the next day, at least he knew that wherever she was, she was still alive.