A/N: Love to reviewers and Countess Black

Thank you again for all the concrit, it really does help.

"As all things have a role, that of the house elf is constant toil. As it accepts that axiom of it's own being, so must wizards accept that the elf exists purely to serve the needs of the master."

Virgillia Malfoy, 'Letters to Wives' Chapter 33, 'On House Elves', 1816

When Draco woke, he felt two things at once, with the force of what the French call 'une coup de foudre', a lighting strike. One was the sweet relief that his wife lay still beside him, breathing deeply in the pre-dawn stillness. The other was an immediate physical need to be with her, to work on deepening their bond, see that she'd never want to leave him.

She was stirring. Draco crooned wordlessly, wanting her to stay asleep so he could savour being here as the sky lightened. Hermione had, he perceived, a strange aversion to the sort of relaxed, sprawling life he himself had been raised to expect. Probably the result of her terrible childhood, he thought sympathetically.

Her eyelashes were fluttering. Hermione yawned, covering her mouth, and blinked sleepily a moment. Draco bent and pressed his mouth to hers, and tried to draw up the skirt of her nightdress at the same time, wanting, needing to lie with her, to reinforce their bond in the most primal way possible.

Hermione shook her head. "No."

"No?"

"I can't. Please." She sounded funny to him. Draco bent his head and pressed his cheek to hers. "There, shhh. I shan't ever do anything to make you feel scared or hurt, dearest. You know that."

Hermione nodded and breathed a sigh of relief as he rolled away. He took her hand and lightly stroked the skin between her fingers, desperate for the bond. "Is there some reason, my pet?"

"I...I need some time to process what happened."

"With the potion."

"Yes."

"Can we talk about it?"

"I felt helpless, Draco. I'm not ready to give up that kind of control right now."

"All right." He kissed her fingers, one by one. "Thank you for sharing with me, precious."

Crookshanks rose from his place at the end of the bed and walked toward them. Fixing Draco with a curranty, gimlet eyed look of disapproval, he crossed Hermione's chest to nuzzle her face, marking her afresh and bathing her cheeks with his raspy tongue. He groomed her for a moment and, feeling he'd made it clear what the order of males in Hermione's life was, he stretched contentedly and padded off to find his pan of sand to use.

Hermione rose as well. Shrugging into her wrapper, she called for Leesy, who appeared with a cup of tea. 'Thank you, Leesy. Would you draw a bath for me, please?"

Draco ordered Minky to do the same, and he went into the little antechamber he used so Hermione could perform her toilette in privacy. Hermione felt relieved when he walked out. She had learnt, if nothing else, to savour her privacy like a fine wine.

Stripping off her nightgown, she stepped into the tub. She didn't especially like being bathed, but Leesy had put up such a fuss when she tried to press the issue that she'd given up. The elf soaped her, and washed her hair, chattering happily the whole time, beyond delight at having Hermione feeling well again.

"Miss is wearing the dark brown robes? With purple dress and stockings?"

"That should be fine, Leesy."

"And gold net in hair."

"All right."

Leesy held out the warmed towel and Hermione rose. She did enjoy the sprinkle of lavender water, she thought, a might guilty as Leesy helped her into the old fashioned cotton undergarments, stockings, the dress, robes, shoes, and the promised hair net.

Coming down the stairs, she was deeply startled find the elder Malfoys sitting at the table, the remains of breakfast in front of them. Lucius rose politely when Hermione entered the room, and they both smiled.

"My dear, how well you look."

"Thank you. Were you waiting long?"

"No, not at all. Where is Draco?"

"Here, Father." Draco, also dressed, smelling of cologne, came down the stairs and embraced his parents. "Thank you both for staying yesterday."

"Not at all, love. You did quite well all on your own."

Narcissa nodded. "After you've eaten, I should like to speak with Hermione."

The men got the idea and Draco quickly ate his pound cake and jam. "Should you like to see the library, Father?"

"Desperately." The men made their way out discretely as Narcissa sat down across from Hermione and poured them both more tea.

Narcissa was prepared to give the girl a most important lesson, one she'd not given her before.

"Darling? We need to talk about something very important. About your relationship with Draco."

Hermione stiffened very slightly. Narcissa mentally sighed.

" I shan't scold you. I know you and Draco have had your...disagreements in the past."

"Yes."

"But, you know, sometimes...well, one draws more hinkypunks with pumpkin juice than bat spleen."

"Oh."

"There's nothing wrong with using a bit of gentle persuasion. Men can be very...oblivious, sometimes, to what women need, or like. So if you ever need some help, feel free to let me know."

Hermione was intrigued. She lifted her head and was surprised to see Narcissa smiling slightly. "Persuasion?"

"A bit of help to see things our way. Women are meant to be fragile, protected creatures, darling, not stupid ones. You aren't-I thank the ancestors daily for that- so I daresay you understand what I mean when I say that."

"I don't understand how you can be happy living this way." Hermione was rediscovering herself, and she felt better for having said it, for all it likely wasn't terribly prudent.

"No? I could say the same for the way you lived."

"But there's no freedom here, no choice."

Narcissa took the girl's hand. "My dear, you must understand you missed on a few important lessons by not being bore among wizarding people."

"How do you mean? Mother?"

"There's a place in life for more direct sorts of action, and a place for skill, hmm?"

"You're talking about subtly?"

"Yes, but also...well, we ladies are awfully frail and weak, aren't we? We've so many winning little ways."

Hermione found a little pellet of liking unfurling like a flower in her heart. What Narcissa was saying was repugnant, at some level, but hearing it put so baldly was rather enlightening.

"Go at it more gently?"

"Well, there's having something-choice, power-and the appearance of having it."

"It's hard for me to reconcile myself to this, Mother. Draco sometimes...we have different ideas about things."

"No doubt, but you must remember that Draco will always win. Everything is set against you except your own cleverness and the help of other ladies."

Hermione chewed her lip, deep in thought. "But it isn't right."

"No? It's a bargain, like anything else. The right sort of woman can do anything while appearing to do nothing at all. You find no pleasure in the challenge?"

"I'd rather do things directly." Hermione sipped her tea and then set down her cup.

"But that isn't always an option, my dear. I agree, and would never suggest you keep something from Draco, or do something immoral. But if you can't achieve your aims in one way, don't rule out another, is all I'm saying."

Hermione wanted some time to let this digest. She smiled and stood. "Would you like to join them in the library?"

"I would."

The Malfoys decided to stay a bit longer, and as the elves swore this was no problem, they moved into a guest bedroom. Hermione went about her normal routine, making small decisions, setting menus and the like.

All four of them were resting in the solar off the main bedroom when Peasey appeared wailing. Hermione, after weeks of this, was relatively inured to it and finished her sentence before she addressed the elf.

"Something the matter, Peasey?"

"Peasey is bad elf! Terrible elf!" He would have howled further self imprecations had Hermione not held up a hand. "Stop, and tell me what's happened, please."

Peasey dried his eyes on the edge of his tea towel. "We is knocking over ink well!"

Draco huffed. "You interrupted us for that? Just clean it up, idiot."

"No! On rug! Ooohhh!" Peasy began enthusiastically punching himself in the head, still wailing. Hermione felt her head beginning to pound. "Peasey, it was an accident."

Peasey wailed louder. "Ooohhh, Peasey should be punished! Bad Peasey!"

Everyone turned and looked at Hermione. "I really don't think-"

Peasey shrieked and began to pound his head on the stone fireplace. Lucius stood and helped Narcissa stand. "Children' he half yelled to be heard over the elf 'we shall be in our chambers. Do let us know if this gets out of hand."

They beat a hasty retreat. Hermione finally managed to get Peasey to stop before he brained himself. "Peasey, I don't want to punish you. I-"

The din was deafening. Peasey set up a blood curdling howl and began to smash his face against the wall so hard Hermione feared he would kill himself. "Stop it! Make him stop!"

Draco stood. "Peasey, enough. Madam and I will decide your punishment, now go before you bleed all over everything." Peasey, sobbing rapturously, clutched Draco's legs in a gesture of gratitude and then vanished, having neatly cleaned his blood from the stones first.

Draco sighed. "Darling, why did you do that?"

"Because I didn't want him to hurt himself! There was no need, it's only a rug."

Draco put both arms around his sweet, childlike Hermione. "Precious, it doesn't work like that."

"But he was hurting himself!"

"Yes, it was. That's what it was bred to do."

"That's obscene. He can't want me to hurt him."

"No? Then why did he get so upset when you wouldn't punish him? In his mind, that means you don't love him."

Hermione flung her hands up. "This is impossible."

Draco held her closer, gently stroking her hair. 'You just aren't used to not knowing, is all. Think how it is for people not as smart as we; they feel like this all the time."

Hermione snorted despite herself. 'Draco, that's terrible."

"I'll help you, love. But you do need to deal with Peasey."

"Can't I just tell him not to do it again?"

"Do you honestly think that will work?"

Hermione breathed through her teeth. "This whole situation is appalling."

"It's for Peasey as much as anything else, love. He'll not have any peace until he thinks we care about him again."

Hermione squared her shoulders and nodded. "I understand. Could I please speak to Peasey? Alone?"

Draco wondered what Hermione was up to. He nodded and gently slid her off his lap. "All right, darling. If you need anything, send for us, hmm?"

Hermione nodded, reaching for the bravery which had allowed her to survive so many things in the past. She could do this. She could.

"Peasey?"

Lucius Malfoy had made the acquaintance of Hermione's ginger tom. Unfortunately, he couldn't seem to unmake it; more specifically, he couldn't get the insolent creature off his lap. He'd quite resigned himself to belly rubs, at least for the foreseeable future.

Draco knocked and then sat down. The cat snuffled at him for a moment and put his head back down, clinging to Lucius' trousers with his claws. Lucius sighed softly and scratched the creature's ears.

"What's happened, love?"

"Hermione is struggling with this, is all."

"Will she be able to do it?"

"I hope so, Father."

Narcissa handed Draco a goblet of the pumpkin juice she'd ordered sent for the children. He sipped a little and then set it down. "She's not been well."

"No' agreed his mother, and patted his shoulder 'she's not. But this was bound to happen."

"Just wish it weren't so hard."

"Everything worth doing is hard, Draco." Lucius smoothed the cat's soft, downy coat. Crookshanks purred, kneading, and then jumped down. He'd go and find his Girl and see what she was doing.

Hermione wished the elf would either stop crying or let go of her legs. She couldn't bring herself to shove him off, but she was trying to find a way to gently disentangle the sobbing elf.

"You really want me to punish you?"

"Yes! Oh, yes!"

Hermione's brain was swirling wildly. "But...why?"

"Is being bad elf! Ooohhh!"

Hermione spent a long moment debating the ethics of this.

"I, ah...how did your previous mistress deal with this?"

"Was having Peasey boil toes."

"Oh." Suddenly, Hermione had an inspiration. She smiled, and then, reminding herself this was serious business, shook her head to clear it and said 'Peasey, I've an idea. Why don't you alphabetise all the books in the library-not the scrolls, the books-by hand? Probably your arms would be sore after, but you wouldn't have to maim yourself."

"Madam is so good! So kind!" Peasey's tears were pattering off Hermione's shoes and she finally said 'Peasey, please!"

"Madam?"

"Would you mind starting now?"

Peasey bowed and DisApparated just as Draco poked his head in. "Hello, pet. How did it go?"

Hermione rose and said 'Better than I had any right to expect."

"Is Peasey feeling better?"

"Much."

"What did you have him do?"

Hermione explained. Draco laughed out loud. "Jolly good, Hermione!"

They looked at one another, a trifle awkwardly, and then Crookshanks finally wandered in, having made a detour. He miaowed to be picked up and sniffed Draco haughtily, wondering when the two would finally mate and be done with it. His Girl's mate smelt of pheromones and it was annoying him.

Hermione bent and hugged the cat, taking him from Draco's arms. The cat nuzzled closer, sighing with pleasure, and then wriggled to get down, stalking about the room and then depositing himself on the softest chair, preparing for a quick, four hour nap.

"Draco?"

"Hmmm?"

"Does it bother you they were bred this way?"

"Whom?"

"House elves."

"No."

"Why not?"

Draco, whose social conscience could charitably be called vestigial, shrugged. "We've all a part to play, Hermione. That's theirs, is all."

Hermione turned to look at the ocean. She missed her old life with a pain that was becoming more cerebral by the day. That hurt almost worse than the actual pain-that her emotions were turning elsewhere, and that ringing something that she'd taken as a right two months ago from Draco and seeing it as a victory just made it worse.

It was a dry, dull aching these days. She would have brooded further but his arms went about her and he pressed his lips to the nape of her neck and then feathered them lower.

"Knut for your thoughts, love?"

"I miss...some things."

"What sorts of things?"

"Taking walks with Mum, the British museum." Freedom, choice, self determination. But Narcissa's comments had led her to wonder some other things, too. Was it wrong to do things that way? Wouldn't it make her like them?

Draco smiled and kissed her neck again. "Once everything's calmed down, love, we'll go all sorts of places."

She didn't say anything. Together, they looked out and were lost in their internal wanderings like a ship on Homer's wine dark sea.