She was backing him into a corner and Hermione knew it. She felt a little guilty but not enough to stop. Not enough to fly off with him and leave everyone else here fighting, with no idea how things would go or what would happen.

Draco's jaw clenched and he stared her down. "Granger, you don't understand how this feels. I have to do it. Please don't make me make you."

"You'll have to," she said in defiance. "And when you get me there, wherever it is, you'll have to disarm me and stun me. Or restrain me somehow. Are you going to do all of those things?"

This challenge could be met, she knew. She had no doubt Ronan would do all of those things to Rose. Maybe even if it wasn't strictly necessary. But Draco wasn't controlling or demanding. He was terrified for her, though, and she could feel it coursing through him.

What she was asking wasn't fair. She knew it wasn't. She was asking him to defy his core directive, the only purpose to his life. Her safety versus her happiness. It wasn't even a question to Ronan with Rose.

It was for Draco and she was shamelessly exploiting it. He wanted to give her everything she wanted, even things she didn't know she wanted. He deeply didn't want to make her unhappy, but better unhappy and alive. She felt his resolve hardening. He'd deal with the fallout later, with his still-living mate.

"Malfoy, just fucking take Padma!" Harry shouted. He'd been busy these last few minutes and Hermione cringed.

"Please take Padma," she whispered to him, knowing he could hear her over the fighting. "I want to know she's safe. Please."

"Bloody fucking Gryffindor," he muttered, plainly loud enough for her to catch it, and snatched Padma by the arm. "When I get back, you're going."

ooo

Now that it was just the two of them, Hermione felt Harry relax a smidge. Padma really was ill-suited to battle and Hermione felt relieved, too. Now she could focus better and her focus narrowed in on what might be happening with Ron.

After a few moments of blissful silence, no fresh attacks coming, Hermione darted off towards the cabins. Harry followed quietly, the two of them ducking and running in symmetry. It was halfway around the Manor and Hermione's anxiety was mounting. She tried to smother it down, not wanting to alarm Draco.

Draco was furious. Livid. Hermione hoped Padma could handle a frantic and angry flight better than she could, and then thought of how the simple yank out of the Manor window half an hour ago had almost made the nurse vomit. Draco might have his hands full.

But there was nothing to be done about it now and Hermione knew he was fully resolved. No matter how she felt about it, he was dragging her out of here next.

Hermione got a flash of Malfoy Manor and thought that was quite clever. No one would think to look for someone there, as long as Padma laid low. The Manor looked derelict. Long abandoned. It would do nicely as a temporary safehouse for a few hours.

Also, it was close by. Draco would be on his way back very soon.

Before that could happen, Hermione was determined to settle as much here as she could. Whatever she could contribute, she would. And first up was helping Ron. She and Harry were doing fine but they'd heard nothing since Ron sprinted off to defend the prisoners' buildings.

She was greeted with a shock. Ronan was handling O'Leary's building entirely on his own. She didn't see Ron at all and her heart leapt into her throat.

"Where are the other Aurors?" she hollered across to Ronan who barely glanced her way.

"I chased them off," he grunted. "Can't tell who's who. I'll do it myself."

Ronan had good reason to know that plenty of Aurors were willing to trade or barter for the prisoners. Some of their allegiances could swap anytime for the right motivation. Hermione understood his logic but still fought back rising panic. "What about the redhead? Ron?"

"Auror Weasley?" Harry supplied with a cooler head. Under Ronan's watchful gaze, Harry began to recast wards around both cabins. Shield charms, guarding spells, solidified doors and windows so they couldn't open. Cracks were sealed. Hermione was impressed.

Ronan only shook his head. He didn't know. He surveyed Harry's handiwork closely but made no motions to leave. "Go on, then. Go find him. I'll stay."

Harry paused, forcing Hermione to wait too. "Ronan, a lot of these people are just… people. They're from the protests. Watch your back."

Hermione felt a chill. She knew that was true but by his tone she could tell he was far more unsettled by the presence of the hate groups than by the untrustworthy Aurors. She heard another howl of pain from the woods and fought the urge to freeze in her tracks. Draco felt it, based on the corresponding anxiety and dread coming from him. He was almost back.

She couldn't leave without knowing where Ron was.

ooo

James felt the same stabbing agony slash across his head.

This cut through the continual hum of his pack in their fights, their anger and their injuries. He'd been trying to muffle this as much as he could, careful not to get mentally involved. He didn't want to distract a single wolf. He couldn't help them from here and he couldn't risk sending out a command. He was terrified that in his own unfocussed state, a shouted 'no!' in his mind could come across as an alpha edict.

This was different from the pack. It could only be his mate. He grabbed Zabini's shirt in his teeth, something that took several tries mid-run the way they were, and brought him to a stop.

Zabini set Parvati on the ground gently and James snuffled under her chin with his nose. He sniffed all along her face, letting his whiskers tickle her cheeks, relishing the way her eyelashes fluttered back in turn.

"Sweet Salazar, that fucking hurts," she whispered weakly, her eyes barely cracking open. James was glad it was night, for her sake. "My head… gods, why did he have to keep hitting me?"

Rage coursed through him again. He'd almost been able to transform back, but not any longer.

"Where did he go?" Zabini asked, steady as ever.

"Back to the Manor. He was going to help. He wanted to kill her family for her, but he also wanted to draw out as many of you as he could, to come get me. I don't know if I was part of the original plan or not, but he didn't seem upset about it."

This sort of dry humour was quite like his mate and James felt a flood of relief. He nuzzled back under her hair to her ear and gave her a lick.

"Not now," she told him sternly, but she cracked a small smile before she looked up at Zabini. "Does my sister know? What's happening there?"

"A fight," Zabini responded succinctly. "Your sister knows you're safe. Malfoy got her out. I don't know where he took her, but I know she's not in the middle of the battle anymore. She's just worried now, not scared out of her wits."

Okay, well, that was one thing going right. James tried to focus on that. And they had his mate and she was awake. She definitely had a head injury and James wished he had some kind of pain-relief potion for her, but he didn't. Neither of them did. He'd feel better once they got her to St Mungo's.

This was why Mac hadn't simply killed Parvati, James thought. Finding her subsequent medical care had kept them occupied far longer than just Apparating back. And it was going to keep stalling them now. His frustration mounted, but each of his pack were capable. Each one was a vicious wolf when he needed to be, and even though they'd all been able to get out a lot of cathartic rage in the last few months, James bet they were channelling plenty of it tonight.

He desperately wanted to be among them. He wanted to find Mac himself.

But not yet. St Mungo's first. Zabini carefully hoisted Parvati back into his arms - James tried not to wince at the tears of pain this movement sparked - and they set off again.

ooo

Draco had dumped Patil and thought he might break the sound barrier returning to the Manor. Patil had been so thrilled to have the flight over that she hadn't argued. She'd waved him off with one hand covering her mouth, trying not to retch.

He wasn't worried. She'd be fine. And Granger would be joining her very soon. Draco himself hadn't decided whether he'd return to keep fighting, or stay with Granger at Malfoy Manor. He was torn. When he'd been there not long ago, he'd felt the attraction of the fight. He couldn't deny it.

But on the whole, he'd rather stay with Granger at Malfoy Manor than have to restrain her to leave her behind. He knew she'd been telling the truth that she'd just Apparate right back, and obviously the wards were breached. He couldn't count on anything else keeping her out.

A maddening sort of witch was Granger. What Draco wouldn't give for her to be just a little selfish. Just a teensy bit, sometimes.

He'd be risking everybody else thinking he was selfish, an inconsiderate prick for not helping out, but he'd never cared much about that. Only the ones who hadn't yet found a mate might not understand.

Draco certainly didn't expect Zabini to return to the Manor, for instance. Surely he knew Patil was out safely by now. If Rosier returned, it was only his obligation to his pack that would drive him. Ronan was a unique exception, but his motivation was still to avenge his mate. It still came down to Rose in the end.

No, Draco's forming plan - as the air whipped past his face, bitingly cold and damp at this altitude - was to retrieve Granger, deposit her at Malfoy Manor with her friend for company, and hopefully go fetch Zabini at St Mungo's for Patil before long. The six of them could regroup at his ancestral home.

Safely.

Whatever happened at the tenebris Manor was going to happen with or without him. Or her.

Granger wouldn't like it. Draco didn't care.

He aimed for the same spot on the grounds, near the two cabins for the prisoners. Ronan was the only one around, stalking angrily back and forth, making sure no attacks would come from the far sides of the buildings.

"Things seem quieter," Draco commented in relief as he scanned around for Potter or Granger. "Where's my mate?"

"Looking for her other friend. The other Auror."

Ah. Weasley. Bloody Weasley. Well, fine, the three of them together would be easier to spot. The Golden Trio. Draco stifled a frustrated sigh. But he couldn't say he wasn't reassured by his mate surrounded by two Aurors, her two oldest friends. She was as safe as he could have hoped.

As he started to move in the direction Ronan had pointed, the other Veela called out to him, "Where are you taking yours?"

Surprised, Draco turned back. "My family Manor, in Wiltshire. It seems abandoned but it's heavily warded. It's a good spot."

Ronan nodded, almost to himself. "After you get yours out, will you bring my mate to her? She's frightened and alone."

"Rose? Alright. Where did you take her?"

Ronan looked a little embarrassed, his long black hair partially covering his face. "The Leaky Cauldron. I couldn't think of anywhere else at the time. She's in a guest room in the inn - or she better be."

He closed his black eyes briefly, an annoyed look on his face, then gave a curt nod.

Seemed reasonable enough to Draco. Ronan had been trying to think fast under pressure, and Diagon Alley was close by. If Draco hadn't had Malfoy Manor to fall back on, Patil might have ended up there, too. "I'll go get her. Are you staying here, then?"

"Until it's over. I won't let them have her." Ronan inclined his head at the cabin with a grim smile.

"Whenever you're done, Rose will be at Malfoy Manor," Draco said, setting off.

It really did seem quieter. It was… almost eerie. It didn't feel over, though. He couldn't explain why. The Manor was still burning, the smoke thick and acrid. The smell burned his nostrils and even his night vision was clouded with the waves of smoke blowing past. He held his breath to get through a particularly thick spot, squinting to see as much as he could.

There were bodies. Draco skimmed each for telltale features but didn't pause beyond that. There were more that he didn't recognise than ones he did, which was reassuring.

Many had obvious signs of physical injury, animalistic mauling. The pack had been efficient. Draco wondered if they'd hunted together. They probably had.

He and Ronan could do that. Draco, always having been something of a solo operator, wondered what it would be like to have a real teammate. A physical equal.

Ronan had very slowly begun to grow on him. It's not like Draco suddenly wanted to be close mates, but occasionally, the other Veela wasn't so bad. He had his moments. And Rose definitely seemed happier lately.

Tonight, for instance. He'd had flashes of Ronan flinging Granger into the loo to keep her safe when things first got started here. Even though it hadn't been particularly gentle and it was mostly because Rose favoured Granger, Draco still appreciated it. Ronan had been prepared to defend all three, all on his own.

And now, refusing to let O'Leary's people near her - whoever they may be. Ronan was taking the responsibility on himself and he'd racked up a decent body count.

Not just that - Ronan was trusting Draco with Rose. If their places were reversed, would Draco trust Ronan? He found that he sort of had, already, even if he hadn't meant to. And now, if things came down to it, he thought he probably would again.

Draco decided to campaign for the other Veela to have his wand reinstated. He'd earned it.

This little mental track had taken Draco halfway around the flaming building. Where was Granger?

He prodded at her, irritated. He felt that irritation was showing quite a lot of restraint, in fact. What was she playing at? Yes, he was going to take her away from here, but she wouldn't actually hide from him, would she?

In a manner of speaking, yes. She'd been muffling the thread and he'd been too lost in his thoughts to notice, unconsciously content with the lack of fear coming from her. She and the other two stupid bloody Gryffindors were near the front gates.

That was why things had seemed more quiet. They were trying to reinstate the breached wards and keep a single point of entry, controlling the flow of protestors and people streaming onto the grounds.

Freshly furious, Draco lifted himself into the air. This had gone on long enough. The Aurors could do their own jobs. They didn't need a Healer down there filling in on the front lines just because their own ranks had been so thoroughly decimated by traitors. Not his Healer.

A sudden crack split the air and the small group of people defending the gates all ducked in unison, covering their heads. Draco had a very good idea what that sound had been and he wasn't sticking around to confirm it.

He didn't even land. He swooped her up, thrashing and squalling at him, and poured on the speed. Her hair whipped back into his face and he tried to spit out a curl, to no avail. Granger was viciously satisfied by this, doing her best to flail in his arms as if Draco dropping her from this height would get her back to the Manor. She continued to scream at him both mentally and out loud.

"Stop! Stop!" she shrieked. "Those were gunshots, we have to go back! We have to -"

Draco had never before done this - and hoped he'd never be compelled to again - but he commanded her to stop. He wasn't going to fight her the entire flight. There was no earthly way she was going back. If those had been gunshots, he no longer had a single compunction about physically restraining her at Malfoy Manor. Not after the last time she'd been shot. Nope. No way.

Granger did fall silent and he felt her seething resentment, her tearful fury. She was terrified anew, for her friends and for the residents still on the grounds. They didn't know about the guns, they didn't know -

But they did, he insisted with forced calm. Guns on the grounds had happened once before, after all. And this time, the residents had wands. Potter and Weasley were extremely capable and certainly relieved she was being flown off to safety. There was no reason left for Granger to be there.

It was over. She wasn't going back. He was absolute.

ooo

Hermione tried to understand where he was coming from. She really did. It just wasn't in her nature to leave a skirmish she could still contribute to, with her friends still fighting behind her. And she'd have no idea if they were alright… no idea how things would go. And the situation had escalated.

The Manor fighters were missing several of their best. Their leaders, when it came right down to it.

What finally decided it for her was remembering the horrible feeling of Veela disappearing. Of the thread just dangling there, empty and lost, nothing on the other end.

Draco couldn't handle the possibility. He was going to remove her from danger. And in his place? She didn't want him going back either. Hermione had to admit she didn't want him risking his life.

But that was such a selfish thought. How many might die tonight? How many were already dead? And Harry and Ron, still fighting.

Draco had essentially muzzled her. Hermione had no idea how the command worked, hadn't even known for certain that Veelas could do it the way James seemed to with his pack. But it had seemed like Ronan occasionally commanded Rose - Hermione had just never asked outright. She tugged on one feather of his wing and he looked down at her, surveying her temper.

Realisation dawned in his eyes and she felt his flood of regret. He hadn't meant to silence her. He'd just wanted her to stop fighting him. She sensed a release and prompted him.

Malfoy Manor. To Padma. And then he'd promised to fetch Rose, because she was alone and scared. Would Hermione cooperate and stay at the Manor? For him? Please?

He'd die if she died. His life was on the line, too. Would she risk them both by going back?

She closed her eyes in perfect misery. No, she wouldn't. She'd stay with Padma. She remembered the pain and horror of her first gunshot, Veela's feelings of failure. She wouldn't put him through that again, not even as an injury. And if she died - no, she wouldn't risk his life. She did put him above all others.

Her husband.

His relief was overwhelming. He wouldn't be gone long; Rose was only in Diagon Alley. He'd check on James and Blaise at St Mungo's and let Blaise know where Padma was, in case he didn't already. He'd get Rose and be back as soon as he could.

And then they'd wait. Together.

ooo

Draco left Hermione with Padma and departed at once, promising to bring Rose. Padma had sworn everything was alright at St Mungo's; Blaise knew she was okay and Parvati was being seen. Rose was the only one left isolated. Draco could go get Blaise after collecting Rose.

Hermione couldn't wait for him to return with the female Veela. Rose would be their only connection to what was happening at the tenebris Manor.

While passing the time, Hermione was on the floor with her knees to her chest. She dipped her head between them, trying to block out her anxiety about what could be going on with Harry and Ron. She'd unexpectedly reversed positions with Padma from an hour or two ago - Merlin, was that all the time that had passed? It felt like so much more.

"How is this place still so protected?" Padma asked, deliberately to distract her. Padma was looking around with fair caution, torn between exploring and keeping Hermione's mind busy.

Not entirely sure, Hermione reached out. Draco was focussed on Diagon Alley, but sent back enough for her to explain. He was just glad she was curious about his Manor instead of focussing on returning to the battle.

No, she wouldn't do that. She solidified it for him.

"He's the only surviving Malfoy. He -"

Hermione swallowed hard. The wards and Draco's control over them was confirmation that his father, too, was dead. "He was able to enact them when he dropped you off here. No one can breach it."

"Didn't you come here with Veela, early on? You all breached it, with a whole team." Padma was bewildered.

She had. Hermione nodded. "I think… because Veela still had control, the Manor didn't recognise Draco. There was something there in the magic, something that was different. He wasn't projecting Malfoy magic. I don't fully understand it. I'd have to do some reading. But tonight was the first night he's been back here as himself. The Manor knew it was him."

The fact that these wards were needed made Hermione wonder if the other properties had them, too. Hopefully those wouldn't be necessary past tonight. But the Malfoy home protected the heir. It wouldn't let anyone in. She felt safe, completely safe. She hoped this confidence seeped into Padma, too. And Rose, once Draco got back with her.

Hermione hadn't realised how vulnerable the protests had made her feel, how much she'd relied on the tenebris Manor wards. She trusted them entirely and once they were gone…

She felt like throwing up. What was happening there? Her anxiety was mounting again, rising fast.

She went to sit by Padma and clutched her hand. "What do you feel from Blaise?"

Padma concentrated. "He's glad I'm safe. He's worried about the others at the Manor fighting, but he'll be on his way here soon.'

"And Parvati?"

"Fine. Healers say she has a serious concussion but they're treating it. She's angry and battling every treatment, which is normal for her, so -" Padma broke off with a short laugh.

"What about James?"

Padma hesitated. Hermione figured she was trying to ask Blaise. "He's waiting. I've tried to tell them Rose is coming here. Once we know how - how things are going there, James will decide. Vati is safe at St Mungo's and James wants to catch Mac. He wants to help his pack, too, but he really wants Mac."

ooo

But when Draco arrived with Rose, nothing was alright.

Hermione reached out a hand to Draco, who joined her at once. She was still on the floor and he sat down behind her, his knees on either side of her hips.

Rose was looking elsewhere. Listening to Ronan, Hermione presumed, or just feeling him. But every absent expression from the Veela made her stomach turn over again. She couldn't bring herself to break Rose's concentration and Draco let her grip his hand so hard she thought it would have broken her own if reversed.

"Was she like this the whole way?" Hermione whispered, for Padma's benefit. The nurse was watching with rapt attention.

Draco nodded. "Almost. She met me downstairs at the Cauldron without a word. It was creepy."

Hermione's stomach clenched. Rose, empty-eyed and blank, had begun to pace. Finally, Hermione had to jump to her feet and join Rose in her repetitive path, taking her hand from the empty space it occupied.

"What's happening, Rose?"

She didn't miss that Draco subtly tucked her wand beneath his thigh on the floor. He was petrified that with the wrong news, Hermione would Apparate right back to Harry and Ron. He didn't want to command her again, but taking her wand was almost the same thing. She sent him a scolding thought - she wasn't going to do that - but turned back to Rose at once.

He felt bad, but not bad enough to hold her wand out to her. Hermione didn't care. Rose was scaring her as the minutes passed.

"Rose, please -"

Finally, Hermione pinched the skin of the Veela's forearm between her fingers. One quick pinch and Rose sucked in a breath and looked at her, hurt.

"What's happening there, Rose? What's going on?"

Rose's vision seemed to clear. "More attackers," she whispered. "Guns. They've gone to get Raquel. And Ronan -"

Rose's hand went to her mouth and she choked back a sob. "Draco, please -"

Draco's eyes met Hermione's, horrified. They both knew Ronan was standing between those cabins and anyone else. Draco couldn't go. He would, if Hermione demanded it, but she couldn't bring herself to do this. Finally, finally, she was being selfish, and she felt no regret from Draco's side.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and Rose gasped, "Draco…"

Hermione wrapped Rose in her arms instead, trying to provide physical comfort in lieu of what Rose was begging for. It was cheap and ineffective, and Hermione knew it. Every bit of her hurt in Rose's place, what she'd be asking - begging - Ronan to do for Draco. But -

"I'll try -" Draco choked out and Hermione sent him a panicked, desperate plea. No, please… please. Please.

Now, finally, she understood his angle. Anyone but her. Anyone but him. No. Rose's knees had started to buckle and Hermione followed her to the once-beautiful, dusty hardwood floors of Malfoy Manor.

Rose ducked her head to Hermione's shoulder and she clutched her friend as Rose sobbed. She didn't know what was happening, not exactly, but were there any guesses left?

Tears pricked her eyes. Could Draco even get there in time? Was it a true no, or just the no that Hermione was begging for? He was no use, he shouldn't even try to go - shouldn't risk -

Her vision was blotted by her tears. Rose was gasping incoherently, gripping Hermione's shoulders and hair in her fingers. Hermione couldn't help returning it, sobbing into Rose on the floor, limbs tangled together.

She felt Draco, bereft and lost. She saw Padma's confusion and dawning horror. She felt her own loss, the empathy she couldn't help but live through.

The death.