She'd woken up barely past dawn. She hadn't had nearly enough sleep and here she was, creeping out from under the covers and sneaking her way downstairs. As if she could be quiet enough, as if she could fool Draco for long.

Quiet or loud, Rose wasn't on the couch. Hermione's heart leapt back into her throat.

Draco was with her before she'd opened the door to the outside gardens. She was halfway through the doorway when his hand brushed her hair beyond her shoulder, turning it in a slow circle to stay reasonably contained in one large curl behind her back.

"Where is she?" Hermione asked, still drained. Her eyes were already welling up.

Draco looked over her head, scanning the gardens. "I don't know, but I'm sure she's here somewhere."

No one else seemed awake. They moved together, in the quiet, across the once-manicured grounds of Malfoy Manor. Dimly, in the back of her mind, Hermione knew this could be the first of several burials today. But consciously, she recoiled from it. All she wanted was to find Rose.

Before anything else, they saw the green shroud enveloping Ronan's body. Rose was sitting next to it, her legs crossed and her forehead dipped onto Ronan's still chest.

Hermione and Draco approached quietly, respectfully. Neither wanted to seem as though they were sneaking up on her, but there was a delicate balance to find. Hermione felt better about their presence when Rose finally looked up, her tear-streaked face red and swollen.

There didn't seem any point in dancing around it.

"Rose… what would you like us to do?"

The Veela looked down at her mate, her eyes overflowing with fresh tears.

"Do you want us to… to contact your family in France?"

Rose took a long moment of contemplation, still staring at Ronan's body on the ground. More silent tears tracked down her cheeks. "No. I don't… I don't want them to see me like this."

Rose had had family before she'd been kidnapped, a decade ago. To Hermione's knowledge, Ronan had become her family. Rose hadn't reached out yet - or maybe she had, but only in preparation for them eventually moving back to France. Hermione really didn't know. That she didn't know felt like a whole new failing.

Hermione nodded. She wouldn't do anything against Rose's wishes. "What - what do you want us to do?"

Gods, it felt terrible to even ask. But even though Rose looked healthy, they all knew what was coming. And wouldn't Hermione want a say in her own choices? Of course she would. She'd give Rose the same chance.

Draco's hand rested on the nape of her neck, curling around her and rubbing his thumb in deep. Hermione wished it didn't make her feel like crying all over again.

After another long beat, Rose looked up at Draco. "He hated the other Manor. He'd have liked this; the gardens. I bet they were gorgeous, once."

Ronan wouldn't have cared. Rose liked them; liked the idea of them. But she thought Ronan probably had hated the tenebris Manor. Hermione didn't say anything, and Rose went on.

"Could you bury us here?"

Draco hesitated, just a little. "I don't think we're going to settle here. I don't think these - these gardens will be maintained."

Rose managed a crooked half-smile. "Nothing about our existence was well-maintained. Would you agree? The wildness of it is… probably appropriate."

Draco looked around a second time. "Well… I guess I don't see why not. No one else will ever own this land."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat again and Rose looked at her squarely.

"Could I talk to Draco alone? Please?"

ooo

Rose's face crumpled as Granger moved away, and she visibly tried to get herself under control.

"Draco…"

She started crying in earnest again and Draco stood as patiently as he could manage, miserably. What good could he possibly do here? Granger had been Rose's closest friend, and Rose had sent her away.

Ronan's body lay on the ground, covered in green silk. Draco tried to keep his focus on Rose.

"I don't want to starve to death."

Her voice was both tremulous and firm. It cut through his reverie.

"Of everyone left, you know. Veela knew how it felt, when he thought Hermione had been shot. When he thought she'd died."

The combined layering of Draco and the Veela shied away. That empty thread, the lost consciousness…

"You understand. None of the others do. Ronan's gone. He's gone."

Draco looked down at Rose, still only partially understanding.

"I don't want to starve to death, Draco. Please. Please don't make me."

The blonde was on her knees on the ground, her face in her hands. She was crying hard, sobbing hard enough that Draco had to work to make out the words. "I just want to be with him again. Please. Please don't make me starve."

Realisation had dawned on him. Could he do it?

He thought he maybe could. He could make it quick. If he drew on exactly what she'd said, how he knew it felt. No one else here had lost a mate. No one else knew.

"...when?" he managed, his voice thick.

Rose looked up at him from the ground, the expression in her blue eyes both doubtful and grateful at once. "Now?"

ooo

Draco was sending her away. Hermione guessed she knew why, in an abstract way, but she didn't want to think about it.

If he died, would she want to live? She couldn't imagine it. She always thought she could handle anything, that she could be brave enough to face whatever came. But she wasn't brave enough for this.

They'd asked Rose what she wanted them to do. They'd offered to do what they could. This was what Rose had asked for.

Hermione made it inside the Manor door, one of the many side doors to the innards of the building. Her building, if it came down to it. They were all in Malfoy Manor and she was marrying the only remaining Lord Malfoy.

She sat down hard, just inside the doorstop. Her arms wrapped around her knees and she tucked her face into the crook of her elbow. She reached out to Draco with her mind.

She met a wall.

He was occluding her. He didn't want her to know. Didn't want her to see it or feel it.

That settled it, then. Her suspicions were right. Rose hadn't even wanted to say goodbye. Maybe she thought if she waited she'd lose her courage. Maybe it would have made it harder for her.

Hermione couldn't help herself. She knew this would be the longest day, far worse than the day before, but she began to cry. With no one around she picked up speed, her shoulders catching with her staggered breaths.

Crookshanks broke the spell, pushing his head up against her clenched fist. He gave her a low 'mrow,' and she scratched his ears absently with one hand.

"Thank you for helping her last night," she whispered, before breaking into fresh sobs. The next thing she knew Draco was lifting her into his arms, taking her back to his old room to sleep again.

ooo

There wasn't a big meet-up at a certain time. Everyone emerged from their rooms at their own pace, weary and grieving. When Draco and Hermione arrived at the former Manor, many of the tenebris ones were already there.

She couldn't believe the destruction in the light of day. The Manor was in ruins but the grounds were, too. Extensive spell damage was everywhere.

Kingsley was there, overseeing officers from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement cataloguing the bodies of those who had attacked. They'd be making identifications when possible. Hermione wondered which ones had been there for Raquel and which had just been protesters capitalising on the breached wards. She figured on many accounts they'd never know for sure.

The DMLE were respectfully leaving the tenebris seminio to their own kind.

Hermione walked around in a daze, just taking it all in. She didn't need to be here, strictly speaking. She'd come more for solidarity than anything. She'd have felt like a jerk sitting idle around Malfoy Manor.

But here, their group had segregated once more. The werewolves were taking care of their fallen pack members. The vampires were doing the same.

The other two of their own sort-of pack were already dead.

She thought she'd run dry of tears. She thought she had to be all out by now, but she was wrong.

Five more of their own gone here, including Felix, Leroy, and Stuart. Blaise and James were discussing next steps with those who were present and Hermione leaned back against Draco's chest to listen.

"Rose wanted to be buried at Malfoy Manor," said Draco quietly. "Both of them, of course."

Blaise looked startled and Hermione realised he didn't know what had happened just after dawn in the gardens, with Rose. He covered his eyes with his hand, briefly, and Padma took it in her own. Hermione saw her eyes fill with tears as she struggled to keep her composure.

James spoke. "Understandable. Ronan hated it here. He felt trapped. Confined here. But for us…" he looked around at the werewolves. "We felt happy here, for the first time since the labs were found. We were able to run free. We could roam. This is where we got our wands back and played Quidditch together. We… began to accept who we are here. What we are."

"We might have been excited to move out, but this is where we became a family," Hanz finished. James nodded with nothing left to add.

Blaise looked at his vampires in turn. "What do you all think? Should we lay ours to rest here?"

"In the woods," said Aidan and the wolves murmured their agreement.

William concurred, "In the shade. It was - really pretty here."

"It will be again," Hermione said softly.

They dug the graves with magic. It was debated briefly whether to do it by hand, but Aidan said they'd been so happy with the wand regulation, having wands of their own after the potential of never having one again - they should use magic. It was right to honour the victory, even if it felt hollow just now.

ooo

Back at Malfoy Manor, Draco kept busy. He'd decided to open it to any tenebris one who wanted to stay there.

Hermione thought this was a brilliant idea. Yes, they all wanted autonomy and homes of their own, jobs. Many of them would probably do just fine. But for those who experienced more harassment - like Felix had, his windows getting smashed in - and wanted a buffer, the Manor's wards were concrete and solid.

Draco still didn't want to settle here, she knew. He didn't quite hate being in his own Manor, but it had horrible, painful echoes for him. His parents, for one thing, but also the dark magic background he'd grown up with. The various evils that had been committed within the Manor over a decade ago still seemed to resonate in its halls.

Hermione knew this was true. She'd found herself unconsciously avoiding the drawing room altogether.

Draco spent days and days checking every room for dark or dangerous objects. One room he sealed off entirely with a shake of his head at Blaise. "Don't ask."

He'd silenced the portraits. Hermione hadn't noticed straightaway. There had been too much going on the night they'd arrived. But they stridently disapproved of the Manor's current inhabitants, for myriad reasons. Draco would glance up in irritation at his mute relatives shaking fists at him and roll his eyes.

"Once things settle down, I'll release a few of them. I'll see who can behave. Hopefully the threat of being either silenced permanently or thrown in the attic will do the trick."

On the whole, Hermione was just as glad they didn't plan to live here. Italy had never looked so good.

She'd rather lost her taste for Greece, though.

ooo

Harry stopped by to give them an update. Hermione listened in half-heartedly. Parvati had been working alongside the Ministry to manage media coverage of the attack, but Hermione barely tuned into this, either.

The DMLE was rounding up collaborators. Attackers who were captured alive had been arrested. The Ministry promised justice, and Hermione thought Kingsley would hold to it. She wasn't worried about a coverup the way she once had been.

It was going to take a few days for the prisoners to be moved back. Harry confided that until the DMLE was done at the scene of the tenebris Manor, he didn't feel confident in the secrecy. He wouldn't risk another attempted breakout. Malfoy Manor was much more secure.

Draco was annoyed by this but tried not to show it. They hadn't wanted to tip off O'Leary about the required change of locale, but in the end, it couldn't be avoided. At least Malfoy Manor had a dungeon.

This proved entertaining in a different sense to the tenebris ones. All three were chained to different walls. They could talk and interact, although they couldn't get close to one another. But sound travelled. After spending months in soundproofed cabins, Duncan and Jackson were avid talkers.

This drove Raquel O'Leary up the wall, visibly and often. And she couldn't maintain the facade of friendship. She couldn't keep up the act - which had, of course, been slightly different for each person she was targeting.

She tried, though, for a while. Maybe it was just a habit. Maybe she truly had hopes of getting out and continuing her life. At first, she played Duncan's 'best friend,' coddling her sweet and desperate Jamie, while playing up to Zeke Jackson's need to rescue her, emphasising her 'dependence' on him.

But she couldn't play her games faced with her audience twenty-four hours a day. Her exhausting personas and personalities finally broke under the pressure. The conditions of the dungeon surely weren't helping, dank and chilly. It wasn't what she was used to. Soon she began snapping at them both. Before long, she reeked of exasperation, of clear derision and scorn.

While Draco rid the Manor of miscellaneous dangerous artefacts, Hermione began sitting at the top of the stairs, out of sight. She liked to listen to the bickering, the escalating tensions. All three of their prisoners were breaking down, their mental states fraying at the edges. She knew Rose would have liked this, too, and it made her feel close to Rose.

The vampires came and went to feed. They stretched it out, one stopping by every couple of hours. The screaming echoed in the stone dungeons. All three of them had to listen to the agony, and feel it themselves when their turn came - several times a day.

Hermione took these disruptive moments to sit near Rose's grave instead. She'd been slowly working on the landscaping around it, making it beautiful - but the kind that could grow wild on its own and still be lovely. Padma often joined her here, and Parvati when she wasn't furiously working on her book, or the ongoing press coverage of the attack and attackers.

Back in the dungeons, Jackson had been the first to start refusing the blood-replenishing potions. It didn't take him long to figure out what they were, and he wanted to die, of course. He'd been aiming for this for months, and they had to stun him to pour it down his throat between feedings.

The tenebris ones handled this themselves, though. Hermione had no direct contact with any of the prisoners any longer. It suited her just fine.

The dungeons worked so well, they decided to keep the prisoners there until the full moon after all.

ooo

Draco had come around to the idea. He couldn't deny the dungeons were efficient. His only real objection to it was that Hermione still felt oddly attached to staying - for now. He'd hoped when the prisoners were out of sight once again, their execution date set, she'd be ready to move on.

He'd had to fiddle with Malfoy Manor's wards and protective enchantments to permit the tenebris seminio access without him, and it had taken a few days. But he was confident now that they could use the Manor if they wished. They could come and go, and have a safe haven if they needed one.

They were thrilled with this offer. Several had moved back out again already, eager to get back on with their lives. All Hermione knew was that leaving felt… unfair. It felt like she was washing her hands of all the misery and going to live on the sunny Italian coast. Their unique position to do this made her feel guilty, all the time.

Maybe it was Rose Hermione wasn't ready to leave. That was part of it, she knew. They'd buried both Veelas right where Rose had requested. The gravesite was lovely, overlooking the small lake and gazebo. But those were such small solaces.

Hermione didn't know how there could ever be closure on such a tragedy. How could she ever make peace with what had happened to Rose?

"Granger, we can come back here as often as you want," Draco told her, pressing his lips into her hair. "We'll have the Floo connected, for Merlin's sake. You can walk right out into the gardens every day."

Finally, she agreed.

The next day, she tendered her resignation at St Mungo's. Healer Johnson was sorry to see her go, but after all, she'd been away for a year already. The hospital had gotten quite accustomed to having neither her nor Padma around.

Parvati and James were going to stay at Malfoy Manor for the foreseeable future. She promised to keep feeding Crookshanks, scratching the cat under his orange chin.

"I've grown quite fond of him," she confessed. "James said he was defending my work in our cottage. He's my little buddy now, aren't you?"

Crooks yowled agreeably and leaned into her hand for more pets.

Parvati was fast at work on her book and having easy access to the Ministry was useful. Harry and Ron were coordinating a share of the interrogation memories for Parvati to review, and promising to exchange other details as well.

Parvati had found some interesting things from the O'Leary family - before Mac had clocked her over the head - but Hermione found she couldn't be fussed any longer. Her rabid fascination had long since faded.

Padma and Blaise were staying a bit longer, too. Hermione offered for them to come stay with her and Draco in Italy, while Blaise explored what was left of his extended family. They could take their time finding a place.

Draco hoped they didn't show up too soon.

Hermione gave him a stern look. He thumbed her ring back and forth with a smirk.

ooo

On the day of the full moon, Zabini was helping James prepare their quarry. Along with Weasley and Potter, they Apparated the three stupefied prisoners back to tenebris Manor grounds.

The two Aurors broke off at once, checking and reinforcing the wards to keep the werewolf transformation zone safely in place. The rest of the wolves would be joining them in another hour or two, well before sunset.

Zabini was inspecting the cabins. Their plan was to shove all three into O'Leary's until dark, since it hadn't been split in half to house two prisoners. Three in there would be tight quarters and James was looking forward to the inevitable tempers and outbursts. They were at each other's throats all the time.

While Zabini did this, James took a moment to go into the woods and pay his respects to their fallen family. Leroy's grave was closest to him as he knelt on the cool ground. James scooped up a small handful of loose dirt from the top and let it trickle back through his fingers. He silently promised to honour them that night, patting the dirt back down with his hand. He would do the best he could.

As his pack began to arrive, he handed out the final doses of Wolfsbane potion to each of them in turn. Every member wanted a full recollection of this.

Some outside the tenebris community might have found that bloodthirsty; why not just let the wolf mind have it? The rabid, feral attack of a wild pack in sync and hunting their prey would be petrifying, by any standards.

James had left it up to each, running it by them earlier in the week. Each one wanted the hunt drawn out, deliberately tormenting the prisoners for hours. Stalking, threatening, intimidating.

Fair enough. He downed his dose fast and transformed proactively. It was less painful when he did it than when the moon drove it.

They followed him in suit, one by one, until Hanz was the only one left. He was standing by Zabini, next to the cabin. James wished the vampire would go. He was cutting it close and it was making James nervous. The Aurors were long gone. They'd patrol outside the wards on principle, but no one had any concerns at this point. They'd been using this same system for a year now.

Zabini opened the cabin door and stepped inside with Hanz. James hoped he hurried it along.

He and the pack moved into the shadows of the woods, spreading out. The three were used to pain from Blaise and any other vampire who approached them, but this still ought to stand out as unusual. None of them was stupid. Something must be going on.

Hanz got right to the point. James approved.

"If you can make it off the property," Hanz said cheerfully, "you can go."

Stunned silence from the three. They'd been bickering nonstop. Surely none of them really believed Hanz, but the offer had to be tested.

Ezekiel Jackson was first out the door, bolting for the trees. James had to hold in a snort at his quick abandonment of the two women, when push came to shove. Maybe he was just sick of them. James would have been. James probably would have strangled one or both of them before now, if he were in Jackson's place.

The women were more cautious. O'Leary was wary, suspicious. Jamie Duncan followed her every move like a paranoid ghost, even after living with Raquel's true temperament for over a week, her relentless mocking cruelty.

On his own way out, Zabini clapped her on the shoulder and the scientist shrieked in tense surprise.

"Got to go," he said. "Good luck."

He grinned at her and Apparated away. Duncan's face paled in awe at the magic, her eyes widening, and James felt a sadistic grin try to spread across his face. Too bad he didn't have traditional lips at the moment.

Hanz transformed next, once the women were finally also out of sight. Ten more minutes of exploration. The grounds were mammoth, the wards invisible. James felt the pack's restless impatience and mounting anticipation as their prey moved further and further out into the darkening woods.

There was a chill in the air, something that seemed fitting. It was almost misty, a little damp. The prisoners all had shoes on to help them move better and make things more engaging, but James was pleased with the weather. The thick forest was almost spooky, even without the werewolf presence that was about to saturate it.

The moon began to crest. James heard Caleb howl and hoped it sparked the dawning horror he imagined. Dwayne answered it from far away and James added his own.

Time for the hunt.

ooo

O'Leary lasted the longest. James wasn't very surprised.

Jackson had actually sought them out once he'd realised the game. The soldier was shrewd and ruthless to the last. He wanted freedom more than he wanted to die, but it didn't take long for him to understand what they were doing. There would be no freedom.

And there was his executioner. He stood tall and waited. James knew Jacob and Caleb had the honours with Jackson, only wishing it had lasted longer. He'd fought back some, when they finally attacked him. A basic survival instinct, more than likely. He couldn't not fight. But it was all over by then.

They'd separated Duncan from her precious Raquel without much effort, splitting them up on purpose. Duncan ran for a good long time. Then the pack would feint back and forth with her and make her think she was gaining some ground. It was good entertainment. They even left her for nearly an hour to stalk O'Leary instead and give Duncan false hope.

In the end, though, she'd crumpled into a terrified and exhausted ball on the forest floor and just… let Dwayne attack her. Bit of a letdown, he confessed, but he was nitpicking. He'd happily do it again.

O'Leary tried everything. She was afraid, yes, but she didn't let it stop her attempts to save her own life. She moved and hid cleverly, no less than James had expected. She cajoled. She tried to bargain. She used every flirtatious and flattering move in her arsenal, and really seemed to believe it was effective when the wolf in question would back off temporarily.

Of course, they were only drawing things out. But it gave O'Leary more fight, more momentum. She'd try harder next time and they'd let her think it was working.

By now, the other two were long dead. O'Leary had the whole pack on her, though she didn't know it until it was almost over. They took it in turns emerging from the trees. One would drive her in a particular direction where another would be waiting. At one point, Caleb's sudden appearance shocked her so badly she fell over backwards into a stream.

Went arse over tit, some would say.

Hanz actually let her get close enough to stroke his head, letting her believe she was winning him over. James felt his keen desire to snap and bite her hand right off, but he cautioned his pack member to hold off a little longer.

Dwayne was eager for his own chance at subterfuge. Jacob had other ideas entirely.

Oh, the games they played. Such fun.