Hermione woke on boxing day alone. It wasn't unexpected. The jumper she fell asleep in was absent from the room. Draco had kept it on her the first time they had sex that night, and Hermione knew when he removed it after he second he intended on taking it with him. His murmurs now included repeating how he loved her. Hermione returned the sentiment, but found in her aroused state she had also taken to pleading for him to stay.
New Year's came and went, Draco unable to make an appearance. Neddy informed her that there was a celebration event at Hogwarts that the death eaters and associates were meant to attend. Voldemort's army was being dispatched at full force, and the boys would check in on her when their orders brought them there. The halls of the Manor remained empty, and she strolled the corridors, keeping her footsteps light only for the elves.
Lucius' study was locked and the door refused to open to her. Whatever secrets remained hidden aside kept safely out of reach. Meandering through the library, she walked past the stacks containing the Malfoy grimoires, taunting her. There was a ringing in her ear as she outstretched her hands towards them, growing louder until a CRACK behind her grabbed her attention.
"Mistress must get to the rooms!" Neddy wailed, reaching out her hand and Hermione took it without question. Once they appeared in the study, Neddy didn't linger for more than a second before disapparating. "Wolves."
Hermione opened the map and saw the herd of footprints entering the manor. Greyback appeared separate from the crowd with most of his pack surrounding him. There was no way for her to spy so long as he was downstairs, so she sat and watched the map for hours, praying the certain footprints wouldn't fade away.
The boys entered into the study, and Blaise had hardly cleared the door before Draco kicked it shut. It was the first time all four of them had been at the manor at the same time in weeks. They met in the middle and Draco kissed her in a way that almost made up for lost time. The other's kept walking to take a seat and Hermione realized that Theo was being half held up by Goyle and Blaise.
"Do you need healing?" She asked, turning towards him and Draco wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back into his chest tightly.
"You're a peach, Granger," Theo said, his voice quivering with pain.
Draco released her so she could grab an assortment of potions and she kneeled in front of Theo to look over his injuries. There was a raise in his skin around a partially healed wound and Theo hissed through his teeth when she gently pressed against it, confirming her suspicions.
"These… Theo, are these gunshot wounds?" She breathed.
"If gunshots are loud muggle weapons that stab you, then yes." The entry wounds had been healed without removing the bullets.
"Theo, I'm really sorry about this," she said, holding up her wand. "Accio bullets."
The small pieces of metal tore through his skin and he writhed with pain, Blaise holding down his shoulders so Hermione could heal him properly. After only a minute, his shaking seized enough that he could consume a blood replenishing potion and calming draught and he moaned, letting his head fall back on the couch.
"Better?" asked Hermione.
"If Malfoy wouldn't kill me, I'd kiss you," he sighed.
"Breath, Zabini. We told you Granger would know how to fix it." Goyle muttered, nudging him. Blaise kissed the top of Theo's hair before moving to sit beside him. He pushed Theo's fringe off his forehead where it was sticking to his sweat.
"Anyone going to explain?" Hermione pressed, moving to sit on the arm of Draco's chair. "What is Greyback doing here?"
"The Dark Lord lets him choose blokes from failed missions to turn. Keeps the members motivated."
"Your mission failed?" She asked Theo.
"My father handled it," Draco said, shortly.
No one knew if it was the Order, or simply the increased attacks that clued them into the wizarding world, but the way Theo described the ambush made Hermione believe the muggles knew exactly what was coming. The death eaters hardly had time to throw up shield charms or apparate away as hundreds of muggles opened fire on them.
"Muggle weapons are rather effective, even if a bit impractical. You think they'll start selling them at Borgin and Burkes?" Theo jested.
"Careful who you say that around, Nott. People don't take kindly to mention of muggles. Your father especially," Goyle said in a warning tone.
Theo brushed off his statement. "My father can eat slugs. Zabini, we ought to sneak into muggle London and look around the shops. See what we can find."
"You can drop the act. We all know you're not running off together to go on shopping trips," Draco added, sarcastically.
"We do more than just shag, Malfoy. But thank you for clueing us into the inner workings of your relationship," Blaise quipped back, and Draco hid his laugh behind his glass.
"We do more than just - Draco! Tell them." She elbowed his side gently and Draco set his glass on the coffee table before rattling off like he was reading from a book.
"Hermione and I have a deep, intellectual relationship that reaches far beyond our romantic interest." He looked at her with a smug smile. "And it makes it all the more satisfying when I get her to-"-
"Enough!" She says covering his mouth, laughing beside herself.
Draco grabbed the nape of her neck and lavishly kissed her with her hand between them, licking his tongue across her fingers. When she pulled away, his seeker reflexes presented, and she yelped when he quickly threw her over his shoulder and headed towards the bedroom.
"Later lads," Draco chirped and he carried her away. "Forgot to finish our conversation on the difference between wormwood and powdered root of asphodel."
Hermione couldn't hear what they shouted in response over their laughter.
"Subtle," she said when he dropped her on the bed.
"Not a strength I claim to have," he said mischievously before descending his lips onto hers.
The boys either understated the fallout of their mission, or they still unconsciously neglected to find equal value in muggle bloodshed with their own.
Lucius' handling of the mission was not a strategic maneuver as much as it was an obliteration of hundreds, potentially thousands of muggles. No effort or mercy to differentiate from those that were defending their city and others that just happened to be in it. The brutality pleased the Dark Lord. The devastation of a city desecrated into nothing but ruins, inspired him.
"We've always known one magical person was worth thousands of muggles, and now the world has seen that fact incarcerated," Voldemort spoke to his followers around the room. "You have served me well, Lucius."
"I am honored to serve you, my lord."
"I expect the same from all of you. If the Confederation wants wizards to submit to the muggles, we will make more examples of them yet." There were murmurs of agreement. More than there had been before muggles started going on the offensive. Whether or not they believed in Voldemort as a leader, nearly everyone in that room found the idea of muggles attacking them horrendous.
"There was a time Lucius, I thought your value was coming to an end. I am delighted to see you finally live up to your potential." Voldemort looked at Lucius. "I believe your redemption has earned you a reward. Don't you agree? Antonin!"
At Voldemort's call, Dolohov opened the doors of the drawing room and walked inside, and Hermione heard Lucius audibly choke.
Narcissa could have been mistaken as a ghost if Dolohov's hand didn't surround her frail arm as he dragged her into the room. When she stumbled, he yanked her up forcefully, causing her to yelp in pain. Her hair was frayed at the end and the strands surrounding her face short and broken, lined up at her mouth as if they had been gnawed on. The robes she wore looked the same from the Battle of Hogwarts, and her skin had the oily residue left behind from a hasty scourgify.
The light went out in Lucius' eyes, and Hermione knew the gesture from watching Draco practice his Occlumency. If not for the ability to push their emotions to the back of their mind, there is not telling what-
A chair screeched across the floor as Draco jumped up from his chair. He drew his wand and sent Dolohov tumbling back through the doors.
"Draco!" His father screamed, losing control himself.
"Neddy!" Draco yelled, ignoring him. "Take my mother to her private chambers, now!"
Neddy obeyed and Narcissa was gone, only moments after she had arrived. Dolohov was back on his feet, sending his nameless curse that Hermione knew all too well. Draco charged him, blocking curses with ease and they hit the other non-expecting members in the room. Once he was disarmed, Draco grabbed him by the cloak and started beating his face. Again, and again. Dolohov having no physical ability to fight without his wand, Draco was the only thing holding him up by the time Cyrus sent a curse at his back. He was winding up to curse Draco again as he fell to the floor when Zabini jumped in to block it.
Theo intercepted a curse next, and was dueling the elder death eaters as more started to join in. Draco was back on his feet, defending himself from the onslaught of curses being hurled at him. Hermione set up a shield charm around herself, backing away in the corner but not risking going upstairs in case Draco needed her help.
There was no stopping Draco, deflecting cursing wandlessly until he approached Cyrus and ripped the wand out of his hand with ease. He lifted him by his robes and slammed him on the table, right in front of where Voldemort sat. The sound seized the rest of the dueling in the room, and Daphne was the only one to turn away as everyone else looked at her father.
"You know what the Dark Lord says about failure, Cyrus," Draco spat before taking a step back. "My father would not have had to save the mission if not for Greengrass, my lord. He and Dolohov!"
Hermione could tell by Draco's eyes that he had gotten enough of his rage under control again to understand what he had done. Voldemort looked interested. Entertained? It provided anything but peace; knowing what the dark lords preferred method of entertainment to be.
Draco pointed to Dolohov's chair. "Get him to his seat! He is not done answering to the Dark Lord for his failures!"
Flint helped another member carry Dolohov, on the brink of unconsciousness to his spot at the table. Right in front of Goyle who had sat, too stunned to move, for most of the event. The others reclaimed their seats as well, waiting to see how the Dark Lord would respond.
Voldemort looked from Cyrus to Dolohov. "Shall we hear your accusations, Draco?"
"It was Dolohov's mission my father had to save, my lord. He wouldn't have been there to do so if Greengrass didn't request his presence at the last minute." He turned to Cyrus next. "Greengrass, who also happened to fail to secure the perimeter before arrival. Causing my father and their entire units to be fired upon by fucking muggles!"
"My lord! We have never encountered muggle weapons before! I had no idea-"
"More excuses!" Draco didn't have to fake his rage. It was as clear to him as it was to Hermione that they attempted to set his father up. He released his neck before taking a step back. "I will punish Dolohov and Cyrus for their incompetence myself, my lord. If you so wish it."
Hermione looked at Voldemort. Draco had been successful in diverting his actions from Narcissa's arrival to the two men. If Voldemort was a fraction more human, he likely would have seen right through it.
"First the Yuletide ball, and now this." Voldemort toyed with him. "How do you live with yourself, Cyrus?"
Cyrus was trembling in his seat. "My lord, I assure you-"
"You assure me of nothing but disappointment, Cyrus." Voldemort said, cruelly. "Your ineptitude cannot continue to go unpunished."
"My-my lord?"
"Avada Kedavra!"
Hermione covered her mouth to mute her gasp, while a thud hit the table. When the green light faded, Cyrus was still staring at Voldemort, the color drained from his face and blinking rapidly.
"Daph?"
Blaise's voice broke the silence from beside Daphne, his voice unassuming, innocent. Like she was playing a game and he didn't know the rules. He gently brushed the blonde curls back from her face that now laid on the table.
Malfoy Manor had never been home to ghosts. Daphne may have been afraid when she was killed, but she didn't fear death enough for her soul to be trapped on this plain. Narcissa still had domain over her earthly body, but her soul had either been filched by the dementors or buried deep where they couldn't reach it.
In the weeks following Narcissa's return, Hermione had only seen her haunting the halls a handful of times. The elves would keep her company, pulling her along, urging her to move. Lucius could hardly stand the sight of her and instructed the elves to keep her away from the first floor until she was in condition to retake her spot beside him. When Hermione did see them near each other, Lucius seemed as unwell as his wife, and Narcissa would quickly fall into a fit.
The map showed Narcissa's footprints in a chamber adjacent to the master's suite. Narcissa had not moved since early in the morning, and Hermione was starting to worry that she was declining rather than improving. The halls were vacant as she made her way over to the master's wing, never having explored it much in the past for fear it had wards similar to their private rooms. Once outside her door, she checked the map again to confirm Narcissa was alone inside before entering.
The clicking of metal when she turned the latch on the door echoed loudly through what was revealed to be a solar room. The windows lined the wall from floor to ceiling, light flooding the room and Hermione understood immediately why Narcissa chose to reside there. The tapestries were light and feminine, and furnishings were elegant in the same fashion Narcissa used to emulate herself. Narcissa was staring at one of the tapestries on the wall containing a family tree similar to the Black family's that hung in Grimmauld place. The threads were mostly silver, with black and green for the branches and what she assumed from the distance were name ribbons-
Hermione gasped as the door slammed and locked shut behind her.
"Who's there?!" Narcissa yelped, jumping and turning around. "No, no, no, no…"
She backed up until her back hit the windows, sliding down until she sat on the floor. She covered her head with her arms and turned towards the glass, letting the light from the sun wash over her. "Leave me alone!"
Thinking quickly, Hermione stashed her bag and cloak behind a cabinet and transformed. Narcissa may interpret her animagus form as a rat, but it was better than thinking dementors are descending on her. She scurried across the floor, coming out from under the tables just enough to be seen. When Narcissa huddled closer to the window, Hermione inched closer so that she could hear her nails against the floor.
"Oh!" Narcissa exclaimed sitting back. The shock was quickly replaced with annoyance. "For Morgana's sake, how many times have I told that boy, no creatures in the house."
It was like the moment before didn't happen, like Narcissa quickly exchanged the state of her mind with something more tolerable.
"Dobby, get Lucius. Draco has been smuggling creatures into the manor again. Dobby! Dobby?!" Narcissa stood quickly and walked over to a cabinet and pulled at a locked door. She patted her robes, and worry started to overcome her again. "Where is my wand?!"
One of the elves appeared and helped Narcissa back into her seat. Hermione had just gotten under her cloak and transformed back when she left the room again to fix Narcissa some tea. While she understood the sentiment of having her by the sunshine, she couldn't help but worry what would happen if one of the dementors lurked past her window. The necklace Draco gave her may better serve Narcissa than herself.
Hermione spent the next day marking the death eaters they had on their list for the Order to target. Voldemort didn't kill those high in his command, not if there was someone they loved to take the curse for them. It was a punishment worse than death that way. Anthony had been in the field since before Daphne was killed. Hermione was sure someone would have told him shortly after it happened. Was he with someone he could share his grief with? Or was he forced to mourn alone; with no one to understand the level of pain or know where it came from.
Draco's display of brutality and wandless magic impressed Voldemort enough to want to keep him close. From what Goyle shared, Voldemort hardly lifted his own wand anymore. Draco was his hand, and the residence at Hogwarts would tremble in fear when Voldemort, on the rare occasion, would deem it prudent to inflict punishments himself.
When she returned from the first floor, their room was dark, and once she closed the door behind her she saw Draco sit up on their bed.
"You're back!" She exclaimed, running to him. He grabbed her and rolled them, so they laid side by side, his arms tight around her. His lips were on her and he tasted like tea and green apples.
"I wandered the first floor for nearly two hours looking for you," he grumbled to her.
She pulled back and rested her head on the pillow. "I was in the drawing room nearly all day."
"Naturally, since I was avoiding it," he said with comforting sarcasm, and she pecked his lips again. He looked at the clock and groaned. "I have to meet with my father again. He will be leaving for Hogwarts in the morning."
"You're staying?" She said excitedly, sitting up and he shifted his head to rest on her lap.
"For at least the rest of the month." He smiled up at her while she ran her fingers through his hair. His eyes fluttered shut. "I feel like I haven't slept in ages."
"Well… have you?"
He huffed. "Not really."
Draco turned his head, lifting her shirt to kiss across her stomach. When his hand went to the button on her denims, she grabbed his wrist.
"Should you go meet with Lucius?" The last thing they needed was Draco getting in trouble when he finally was in good standings.
"I'd already forgotten." He sat up quickly and kissed her lips. "Stay here for me?"
Goyle was nearly as relieved as she was when he came by and she told him Draco was getting a break from his post at Hogwarts. Throwing missions was one thing, but Draco finding ways to serve Voldemort and reduce the harm to the students was a balance impossible to maintain forever. He stayed and kept her company until Draco came barging in from the halls.
"Alight?" Goyle asked as Draco disappeared into their bedroom. Hermione gave him an apologetic look before following.
"Draco…" Hermione called out tentatively as she watched him from the door of his closet.
"My father is a pathetic!" He snapped, grabbing clothes and shoving them in an open trunk. "He's no idea how to keep his wife safe."
"Did he say how she was doing?" It was wrong, but Hermione was relieved that she didn't have to be the one to inform Draco of his mother's fragile state.
"He doesn't even know! She's locked herself away in her chambers and he just carries on like nothing has changed!" He shrunk his trunk and put it in his robes pocket, and Hermione's heart sank.
"You're leaving." It was a statement rather than a question.
"I can protect her. I won't fail like he has." He walked past her and into the bathroom.
Hermione grabbed the diamond of her necklace. "Would this help her? The dementors on the ground can't be good for her… condition."
"There are no dementor's where she is going." He went into their potions cabinet and swallowed a vial of calming draught. "And that is yours. It is meant to protect you."
Hermione nodded and tucked it back under her jumper. "Where are you taking her?"
"Away." He answered shortly.
"Draco, where?" Voldemort would surely notice if Narcissa was suddenly absent from the manor again.
"We've plenty of homes across the U.K. there is no reason she couldn't be at any one of those. She's not a member and has no responsibilities. If anyone has a problem with it, they can answer to me."
"Draco, you're- you need to think this through," she grabbed his arm, and he finally met her eyes.
He looked over her face wistfully. "I disagree, Granger. I think some of my best work comes from acting on impulse."
He grabbed her face with both hands and kissed her deeply. When he pulled back, his eyes went to a stack of her shirts through the open cabinet door.
"Can I have this?" He said, picking the one off the top. She smiled at him and nodded, trying to hide her disappointment. If he was taking an item of her clothing, it meant he was planning on being away for a number of days.
They walked back into the study hand in hand, Draco in his mission mentality and nearly dragging her behind him. He told Goyle even less of his plan than he shared with her, but his friend looked not the least bit surprised.
"The Manor is all for business now, I don't think anyone will question why you don't want her interfering," Goyle said, supporting Draco's decision. "Especially with all of the tension between our fathers. Nott's father has all but chosen Cyrus's side."
The divide between the elder members has turned into a battle between families. To Greengrass's dismay, the Malfoys were now miles ahead of every other when it came to the Dark Lord's favor.
"I don't care what our fathers do. We keep with the plan. We stick together. And when it is over, we'll decide what to do with those who still wish to pursue Voldemort's ideals."
Goyle nodded and Draco turned to Hermione once more before he left.
"Two bloody hours wasted," He grumbled before he kissed her. As valuable as her spying was, knowing it cost her time with Draco was making her resent it. "Leave the map for me next time so I can find you."
"You're about to make me wait an awful lot longer," she replied, not ready for him to be gone again. His demeanor finally softened, and he pulled her into his arms.
"I love you," he murmured into her hair.
"I love you, too," she said back, getting lost in him for the last few seconds they had left.
When they finally had to break apart, Draco turned to the door and Goyle was standing there with wide eyes, and Draco raised a brow in challenge.
Goyle snorted. "Sorry mate, I only fancy you a friend."