A/N: Love to reviewers and my dear Countess Black

A few notes:

Dinner used to mean lunch.

Hippocras is spiced wine.

House Elves: For when your Mother's in Law's constant prying just isn't enough.(tm)

"In the act of marital love, a wizard and witch are joined as one in fact as well as fact of law."

Menelaus Lestrange, 'Commentaries on the Act of Love'.

The elves decided they'd finally had enough after dinner, where Lirry (the cook) served mutton collops with a salad of violets and rosebuds, roast artichoke pie with cheek of cod, and, for lasts, a pudding rich with dates and covered in spiced wine sauce.

Hermione, cheeks flushed with exertion, was surprised to find she had an appetite. She ate most of her mutton and a good deal of pie. Behind her, Leesy was hovering, ready to fetch whatever she required. Draco was smiling slightly, pleased beyond words his wife was actually eating.

In the past weeks, since Hermione's life had been upended, she'd felt herself moving in a cloud of cotton wool. All the colour had gone, as though the world was all in shades of grey and blue. Her few hours of freedom had been better, but the colours were the acid brights of nightmare.

But she'd woken up today with something she'd not had in all that time: a sense of purpose. She'd risen with the sun, standing naked in the window a moment, until Leesy appeared and draped her in a wrapper. Malfoy rolled over and grumbled sleepily. "Hermione?"

"Go back to sleep."

He rubbed his eyes and sat. "What's the matter, precious?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to get up." Hermione turned from the window, and Draco felt his heart clench as he saw her, limned by the sun, hair gleaming, skin caressed by light.

"Come back to bed."

She walked back to the bed but didn't undress. "I can't sleep any more."

"Did you have a bad dream, love?"

"No. Just enough sleep." He cupped her face lightly and brushed kisses on her cheek.

"Hmm, perhaps we should tire you out again, then. No need for us to be awake this early."

She stripped the wrapper off and laid down. "I'm sure I'm fine."

"I'm not. Is something the matter?"

"No." Draco rolled to look out the window. The waves were rolling against the rocks and he could smell a hint of salt in the air. Why, then, was he so unhappy?

"You mustn't shut yourself off, Hermione."

"I'm not."

He rolled back to face her. "Are. You've not said fifty words about your feelings since we got here."

"I'm not the sort."

"Every woman is the sort." What else would a woman talk about? Hermione was very bright, but she couldn't escape her natural destiny, no more than anyone else can. He stretched and yawned quietly, feeling the compulsion to continue warding fight his compulsion to bond with his mate.

"Darling?"

"Hmmm?'

"You really don't feel anything about having moved here?"

She shrugged. "I don't know why you're asking. You made the choice and I swore to do what you want."

He frowned. "Yes, but I also asked you to tell me how I could help you feel happier. Are you?"

"I like the idea of doing something useful."

It was a start. "You aren't an elf, love. You needn't work for the sake of it."

Hermione made herself breathe deeply. "M-Draco, I understand what you're saying, but I feel like all I've done the past few weeks is sit. I'd like to feel a sense of accomplishment again."

"Then I'd imagine you'd like to get up?"

"Please."

Leesy brought the tub into the room and filled it as Hermione and Draco rose. Having failed at his first objective, he slipped into his clothes and saw the second, checking the wards. He'd bathe later, in the small chamber attached to their bedroom so Hermione could have a few moments to do her toilette.

Hermione sat down, a shade awkwardly, in the huge copper tub. Leesy did as the elf at Malfoy Manor always had, rubbing her with oils, washing her hair and patting her dry, finishing with a sprinkle of lavender water.

Dressed, hair in a plain net for the day's work, Hermione met Draco as he paced the hall, muttering to himself as he rechecked one of the doors to the kitchens.

"Draco?"

"Precious! You smell divine." He kissed her properly and they sat down to a quick breakfast before they tackled the first tasks of the day. Leaving Hermione in the hall talking to the house keeper, Draco went to start warding the rest of the house.

Hermione had asked the elves to make an inventory of what was usable, and they had. She scanned the list and made notations here and there, approved the day's menu with Lirry and then decided that the thing to do was start from the top down.

Their paths didn't meet again until just before dinner. They'd both decided to visit the library, which was located in tower, just below the place where the owls would nest. Phoebe was quite pleased with her new accommodations, and hooted approvingly at Draco when he went to give her some crusts and a pat.

He went on a whim to the library and found his wife there, directing the elves to clean the room and find furniture. "A few armchairs, please, and some tables. We'll see about a desk and chair later."

"Some place." And it was. The dry shelves rose above Draco's head, to say nothing of Hermione's. Many of them were honeycombs, indicating that the contents were scrolls rather than bound codices.

"Yes."

"Hypatos Black had fifty scribes working for him, they say."

"Really?"

"Quite. You've not stumbled on his curios yet?"

"No. You?"

Draco shook his head. "Most of the living areas are warded, though. Still have to do the dungeons and the cellars, but all in all, it's been a most productive day."

"It isn't over yet. I'm nearly ready to send that list out."

"Oh?" He came a bit closer and pulled her against him for a hug. "That's wonderful, precious. I'd like a nap this afternoon, by the way. We'll pull the curtains and I'll read you to sleep, hmmm?"

Hermione nodded. She couldn't bear the thought of wasting another endless block of time lying motionless while Malfoy dozed beside her. She was beginning to understand why they called them the idle rich.

The elves had made themselves scare when the master came in. They'd had a meeting after both humans were asleep, and group consensus, as much as there can be between elves, was that Master and Madam needed gentle encouragement to form a closer relationship. Especially, to mate, so they could provide the elves with a baby to love and spoil relentlessly.

Leesy, hovering above them, quite invisible, waited expectantly for Madam to signal her willingness to Master so they could go and get on with the baby making. Madam, rather than doing that, tolerated his touch a moment and then stepped back.

"After, I'd like to explore the dungeons, wouldn't you?"

Draco's lip curled. "Dungeons are nasty places, precious. Wouldn't you rather stay here, where it's nice and dry and clean?"

"If you'd prefer it." Hermione loathed that she'd been forced to make a vow that relegated her to mealy mouthed compliancy, but she had, and she'd do her bit to uphold it.

Draco mentally weighed the likelihood of rats and spiders versus Hermione's apparent enthusiasm for that sort of thing. "I suppose if I were with you, it should be all right. But if I think you're afraid, we're coming straight back above stairs, understand?"

Hermione actually smiled a little. "I'd like that. To explore, I mean."

Draco's heart soared! He'd made her happy! He felt a bone deep, animal contentment in his body, as though he were immersed in some liquid that covered every inch of his person. He could, he thought, grow to want to feel this way much more frequently. Every day, perhaps.

Leesy felt sure mating would follow. She was already mentally preparing for Madam's confinement when that idiot Rinky popped in. "Dinner is being served, Master, Madam." The humans turned and walked to the hall.

Leesy popped into view as well. "Stupid! They is being mating soon!"

Rinky looked patient. "Wizards and witches is being in bed to be mating, idiot!"

"Not always! Sometimes humans is using divans!"

"Pah!" With that, Rinky Apparated smartly to the hall to serve and Leesy, vowing revenge, followed.

Lirry, having directed the meeting last night, had done her bit by creating a meal rich in foods with aphrodisiac qualities. She fully anticipated that the repast would lead to an explosion of, to say the least, good feeling between the two humans.

"Is not working!" Leesy carped when she was sent to get some more pepper for the pie. Lirry frowned and then, almost as quickly, smiled. "We is having just the answer."

A few minutes later, Draco was surprised when two glassess of wine appeared, steaming warmly and smelling of hot cinnamon and grains of paradise. "Lirry is making hippocras for Master and Madam' explained the elf, bowing.

Hermione took hers and sipped. It was delicious. She waited until the elf was gone and set it down. "I don't drink much wine."

Draco raised an eyebrow. "You should. It'll help you sleep this afternoon." He hoped a warm belly and the soft darkness of bed might help her to feel relaxed in his presence; perhaps she'd put her arms about his neck, or ask for a backrub?

Hermione, hearing the order in his voice, obediently sipped a bit more. The spices gave the wine a rich, buttery quality that almost took away the astringency that normally turned her off wine.

They were small glasses, the wine being quite rich, and after a few moments they'd finished. Draco rose and offered her his arm to escort them to bed. Hermione took it, Narcissa having told her very firmly to accept help whenever it was offered, and they went to their rooms.

Leesy was waiting to undress Madam, and hopefully sprinkled her with a bit of lavender water to encourage mating. Surely, between all of those factors, she'd have a baby to care for in no time. She was interviewing nurse elves in her head when Hermione slid under the bed robes and into her place near Draco.

"What shall we read, my love?"

"Whatever you'd like, Draco."

Draco was torn. He liked books about pirates and action and adventure, but that was hardly suitable fare for his wife. He wanted her calm, after all, and it would only get her worked up, hearing about something like that. And anyway, there could be frightening situations that would disturb her sleep.

"How about more of Mr. Llewyllen's poetry?"

If Hermione had to hear one more insipid word about flowers and sunrises she would scream. "I'd prefer something a bit more...substantial."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Should've known you'd say that. What would you suggest?"

"I could send for some muggle books from my parents."

It was on the tip of Draco's tongue to refuse out of hand. "What sort of muggle books?"

"Fiction. Stories. There's some I think you'd quite like."

"We'll see. For right now, let's just relax, hmmm?"

She nodded, feeling better at having been not exactly rebuffed. "The cook is very good."

"Yes. Mother got the elves from an estate sale. I think they all belonged to that Madam Mink."

Hermione said nothing. She couldn't quite reconcile the knowledge of the unhappy lot of most house elves with the knowledge that she, herself, know owned ten of them. Well, Draco owned them, but they served her, and that was just as bad.

"Do you like your maid?"

"Leesy? She's very nice."

" I think she'll work out well." Draco was pleased his wife had someone to rely on to help her with things. That pleased him to no end. Hermione was blinking sleepily.

"Precious? Are you tired?"

She nodded. "A bit." Surprisingly, she was. Snuggling her head down onto the pillow, Hermione found herself glad of the soft swansdown bed and the warm selkie robes, which the elves had turned fur side in.

Hermione was drifting warmly in the first stages of sleep. He held her closer and began to smooth her hair. "I daresay that wine was a good choice."

She didn't answer. Draco rested his head on his pillow, stuffed full of delicious food and wishing, not for the first or the thousandth time, that Hermione enjoyed his embraces. He wished she would open her eyes and tell him she was ready, that she knew he'd never hurt her. It would be dreadfully forward, but in the privacy of their bed, who'd know but him?

He had a throbbing erection he couldn't take care, right at the moment. His hand strayed downward, but then something occurred to him. When was the last time this had happened? That he'd woken with an erection, or had one at all? He couldn't remember.

At a purely animal level, it all made a kind of sense. His mate was unreceptive, and that meant there was no need for him to waste energy on it. But she was no more receptive than she'd been. So why... then he noticed her smell, that same metallic warm salt smell.

In her sleep, Hermione murmured and Draco instinctively held her tighter. "Shhhh, my pet. Just a bad dream." He wondered if they ought to see about treatment for her strange malaise. Mother's oil of violets and tisanes were helpful for most things, but perhaps this was a more difficult case.

He'd see to it tomorrow. He knew he'd have to mate with her soon. He'd done admirably in resisting his impulses, but their mere safety could prove a sort of undoing if it meant he wouldn't be able to resist his impulses any longer.

Something to help her mood would be the best solution. If she were in better spirits, she'd necessarily be more receptive to him. To risk coercing her-or even just wearing her down-would damage the small emotional bonds they'd already forged. And a love potion would simply make her resent him.

Draco let her nap over an hour. He found he couldn't sleep. When she woke, Draco waited until she was fully awake before, very calmly, he explained what had happened when she slept.

Hermione blanched. "You mean you might..."

Draco instantly reassured her. "I'd never want to hurt you, my angel. But I'm afraid if I don't...establish a claim...to you soon..." Hermione swallowed hard. She hated the idea of sharing herself with Malfoy. Hated it. But she hated the idea of having him take it by force more.

She sat up on her heels and slid her nightdress over her head and then laid back down. "Have you ever..."

"No. What do I..."

As clinically as possible, Hermione explained. Draco found himself atop her, gently parting her legs. "Darling? Are you all right?"

"Fine. You?" She could do this. She could. She could. Hermione prepared herself to be brave, endure what had to be endured and, as Narcissa was constantly counselling her, to be cheerful after. Well, not cheerful, but she respected that Malfoy had told her the truth.

He slid in as slowly as possible to keep from hurting her. It stung-Hermione arched and forced herself not to fight him. Draco did his best to ease the process, kissing her neck, whispering promises into her hair, praising her beauty and gentleness and kindness in a sort of low constant monologue designed to distract her from the unpleasant necessity of coitus.

The whole thing took only a few minutes. It was rather a let down. Draco had expected something explosive, something magical, and what he'd got was a few sticky minutes of something his wife obviously didn't care for.

As soon as he'd done, he stopped and gently disentangled himself. Father had warned him that ladies didn't have a taste for these things, and especially, that the first few times were most disturbing, but he'd expected tears and wailing, not what Hermione was doing now. Which was nothing. She was lying very still, staring at a point on the ceiling, hardly even breathing.

Hermione had got quite adept at finding her internal keep, the place no one can touch, and she was there now. The first pain had faded to a sort of dull, achy pounding, and she was vaguely aware that Malfoy had finished. Her thighs were wet.

"Darling? Talk to me, Hermione. Are you all right?"

"Fine. You?"

"Yes. Thank you, precious. I feel ever so much better." He nuzzled her neck and wondered what he should get her as a reward for enduring that. A necklace? Some earrings?

Hermione felt separated from herself. She'd agreed to it to spare herself the terror and pain of being attacked by an animal. Why did she feel dirty, then? Had she whored herself? Had she betrayed...whom?

"Darling? Talk to me. What do you need? Shall I call Mother to come and sit with you?" Draco rubbed her hand in both of his, crooning softly. Tears would have been a hell of a lot easier to cope with than this. Tears could be soothed, fears gently jollied away, but this sort of...whatever this was, he couldn't fix.

"No. No, I'm all right. Shall we go?"

"Go where?"

"Exploring. We're going to the dungeons, is that right?"

"I...are you sure you're well enough? Wouldn't you rather rest?"

Hermione shook her head. "No! I mean, I'd rather get up. If you don't mind."

"No, of course not. But if you should...change your mind, we'll come straight back, love. All right?"

Hermione stood. "Leesy? I'd like a bath, please."

"As would I. Minky' Draco called his valet 'I should like a bath as well."

Draco sank into the water of his tub and sighed. He ought to have felt exultant, delighted. And part of him did. But the other part longed for Hermione to...what? Be happy? Be present for him? Want him to touch her, make love to her?

Hermione let the elf sponge her clean, making a soft, low humming noise. Leesy was, in many ways, the most disturbed of any of them. She'd never seen such joyless, strangely fraught behaviour after something experience told her should be a happy, laughing sort of event.

The elf beamed happily as she ordered one of the house maids to bring in the long boxes from Madam Malkin's and the cobbler. This would surely make Madam's mood a bit brighter. She selected a soft, very light wool gown in a deep blue, with robes in navy and sturdy little leather shoes for Madam to wear on her extended tour of the castle.

Strangely, Madam didn't seem any more cheerful for her pretty new things. Draco came out and complemented his wife's new things. Leesy had braided and pinned her hair, and even fastened a goblin made necklace about her neck.

Hermione smiled wanly. "Thank you. Shall we go?"

On his Hermione, thought Draco, would ever be more excited about dirty old dungeons than new clothes and jewellery. But he offered her his arm and off they went, down, down, into the belly of the castle that was their home now.