Oh lord, I'm getting this chapter out way later in the day than I intended, but last night I was just so tired I couldn't finish. I also ended up deleting half of what I wrote because I wasn't happy with it. Excuse my lateness! Don't worry, I still intend on posting another chapter tomorrow on schedule. I was so thrilled that you guys seemed to like Adrian and Daphne's scene, and the fact that I'm complimented on my characterization is the best praise I could receive. I try really hard to give most of my characters a lot of depth and personalization, and the fact that that seems to be coming across is so great to hear! Some of you guests should make accounts, as I'd love to talk with some of you. I'm very pleased you're not bothered with some focus on other characters. I've been worried about that, but they're important to me and the story! Thank you so much for your support, as always. You guys are so awesome, and thank you for sticking with my story, especially since this is a bit of a slow moving story in terms of how the relationship progresses. As always, tell me what you think of this chapter please!

I don't own anything from Harry Potter.

"That hurts," Astoria told Draco softly, wincing at his savage attempts to unlock the memories hidden in her mind. It was giving her an incredible headache, as well as making her feel a bit dizzy.

Draco stopped at her words and watched her for a moment before nodding. "Alright. We can stop for now. They should come apart soon, and they may come undone randomly on their own. Tell me if they do, don't keep whatever it is from me."

"I don't wish to keep things from you, Draco," she replied, frowning. "You're my husband."

"Mmm. That I am." Draco pulled her closer to him in his bed, brushing his mouth against hers carefully, feeling her.

Astoria closed her eyes and was still for him, her head still throbbing just slightly enough to bother her. It was a familiar feeling; her head hurting like this. Her mind was constantly being dissected and tampered with, and sometimes it was uncomfortable in more ways than just mentally. She didn't mind too much what Draco saw, however, though she was sure her protectiveness over her memories was much less fierce than the average woman who wasn't used to being exposed. He didn't go near the memories she had asked him not to, the ones she had buried so deeply, and that was enough for her.

However, the fact that he had made her lead him to her father's Pensieve was another matter entirely. She wasn't sure why he wanted it, perhaps it was just to show he could, as he seemed to have a strong distaste for her father. He had asked her about the memories, but she truly didn't know where they were. She did know that Pensieve was unusual, and that it worked in ways she didn't understand herself. It made her incredibly anxious to know it was down in that sitting room, exposed and not in its rightful place in her family's home. He did seem interested in memories, and interested in other people as well, though he seemed to not want to admit it in order to not seem like he cared about anything but his own current matters.

Draco's calculated touches brought her attention back to the sensations he was leaving against her skin. When he was intimate with her in this way it was almost as if he was studying her, making a mental note of every curve, every different texture on her form. She expected a man to be sloppy and his hands feel grabby; like that boy that had touched her years ago in the halls at Hogwarts. That's how most men seemed to be with the women they were with from the public displays of affection she had witnessed over the years, at least most of them.

Draco made her feel unfocused, clouded when he would touch her. He made her feel beautiful in just the way he studied her and caressed her as if she were a treasure, a piece of art to appreciate every detail of. Her body hummed as his fingers grazed from her bare shoulder and down her arm, his hand taking hers and flipping her wrist up to trace the blue veins there, bright against her pale skin. She watched his eyes, focused and intent on what they were doing. He looked at her the same way he looked at his little puzzle toys he often played with at night.

"What are you thinking about?" She asked him, her voice soft.

"Nothing. At least that's what I'm attempting."

Ah, yes. That's why he focused so closely and details. Distractions. She was his distraction from whatever demons he was avoiding. She didn't mind, she liked the attention.

She reached up slowly to touch his face, his eyes moving from her skin to her eyes when she made the contact. She studied his eyes, admiring the color. They suited him perfectly.

She wanted to think of something to ask him, but as he said he was trying not to think, so she didn't say anything. Instead she moved her hand to rest lightly on his side near his hip, closing her eyes again, listening to his quiet breathing. She almost thought him asleep again when his lips claimed hers, his hand moving from the side of her ribcage to push into the back of her hair, his fingers curling into it slowly. Her lips parted as she accepted his kiss, her hand on his side sliding up his back when he dragged her forward to fit her body against his. She enjoyed his kiss while she could, as he usually took the liberty of breaking from her as soon as she really got into what they were doing. She was sure at this point that he was purposely winding her up, as it seemed he liked to see her react to him in different ways. She couldn't complain entirely, there was something alluring and electric about the way he built the sexual tension, but she was growing frustrated with it.

Didn't he want her?

Men weren't supposed to be so in control. They shouldn't be able to tease their wives this way, sex was meant to be something that they always wanted, and Draco had always been prancing off with women at Hogwarts.

When Draco broke the kiss much quicker than she had desired she felt her face drop into a flat, unamused expression. She blinked when his body shook against her as he laughed. Laughing at her now, was he?

"Why are you laughing at me?" She asked him, forcing her voice not to come out as a pouty whine.

"Your frustrations amuse me, love."

"I don't understand this game. Are you punishing me for something?"

"What, refraining from snogging you all day when we have to get up is a punishment in your eyes?"

"You.." She trailed off, frowning and furrowing her eyebrows at him. "You know what you're doing. You're just purposely annoying me."

"Annoying you?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. "I see."

She pursed her lips, not responding to him.

"As much as I would love to be in bed all day and torture you even more until you were begging for me to touch you properly: I have to get on with it. I want to be productive before the Aurors arrive later today," he told her smoothly, pulling away from her.

Astoria felt cold at his departure from the bed, curling the sheets closer to her body to compensate for his lost body heat.

"Draco?"

He made a sound of acknowledgment, but didn't turn back to her.

"Please be careful with the Pensieve. I know it has alterations from ordinary the ordinary. Just.. Tread carefully. I'm already very nervous."

"I know you are."

"So please?"

Draco sighed in mild irritation, pausing to glance up at the ceiling. "Alright, Astoria."

Adrian examined the office, squinting at the name before entering the building. Last time he had been here he had been looking for another woman who had told him she worked in the building, obviously now when he was looking for a different woman it was for a much different reason.

Hopefully that last woman he had been looking for wouldn't be in today.

He waited at the front desk as the squat woman at it went to retrieve the employee he had requested and he tapped his fingers on the counter restlessly, wondering how these people worked in such a stale office every day. He would probably lose his mind just sitting in it for as much as one.

"Hello, sir. How may I help you?" The pretty witch he had been looking for asked him, smiling brightly. Her smile faded slightly as she recognized him, but she held it stiffly before tucking a piece of her tight, shoulder length brown curls behind her ear.

Eh, her efforts were decent.

"Hello, love. I've been looking for you. Actually, I'm looking for your husband. When do you get off?"

The girl faltered, looking confused before she shook her head. "No, I'm sorry. You're Adrian Pucey, no? Then I don't think it's a good idea."

"What's wrong with Adrian Pucey? He's a fantastic guy, I've heard. Charming and sexy, as well as a new member of your family," he said to her, leaning forward over the counter and grinning slowly.

"I'm not following.." She murmured, glancing around somewhat nervously.

Did she think he'd attack her? Honestly, as if he didn't have better to focus his violence on should he feel a desire to use any.

"I recently married your sister in-law, you see. Daphne. You haven't met, but personally I believe in getting acquainted with all of my family members."

The girl blanched, taking a step back as she seemed to be reaching into her pocket for her wand. "I think you should leave, Mr. Pucey."

"Nah, I don't think I want to. Relax, darling. I'm not here to hurt you," he snorted, rolling his eyes and taking out his own wand before setting it on the counter in front of him, pushing it towards her. "You see? Now get a hold of yourself. Deep breaths. Count to ten. Isn't this your area of expertise?"

She glanced between him and his wand, still guarded but she seemed to calm down a bit at his surrender of his wand. "What do you really want?"

"To talk to your husband," he said simply. "Take me to him."

"You can't just demand me to do things," she bit at him, glaring. "That's not how you get what you want."

"Oh, come on. You should be used to demands by now. Disowned or not, you're married to a born and bred prestigious pure-blood male," he drawled, looking her up and down lazily.

"I still don't understand what you're doing here," she said stiffly, ignoring his comment.

Because his comment was right, of course.

"No understanding needed as I'm here more to speak to him and not you. I know, I know. You feel less special now, but don't feel bad. It's not you, it's me. I'm sure you have a lot of amazing qualities that plenty of people would go out of their way to come explore. Unfortunately, that person is just not me, and I want to see Edric Greengrass."

"Well I'm fairly confident that Edric Greengrass does not want to see you," she muttered, looking away from him as she seemed to be conflicted with herself.

"That's where you're probably wrong, I'd bet. Everyone ends up loving seeing me."

"When does the love set in?" She grumbled, looking back to him with slightly narrowed eyes.

"It helps if you don't fight it."

She sighed, bracing herself against the desk for a moment. "There are the new Death Eaters to worry about."

"For fuck's sake. I just offered you my wand, woman. Do I look like I wallow around in dungeons and scream about how much I despise Harry Potter all day?" He demanded, offended at her suspecting him miserable enough to be a Death Eater.

She frowned, her eyes traveling down his body. "No, I suppose not, but the new attacks have come from families that have confused Edric."

"Confused us all, believe me. Perhaps him and I can discuss it when you take me home with you."

"You just expect me to lead you to my home? My muggle-born home to meet my blood traitor husband because of some ridiculous reason that you've married his sister who has never even attempted to contact him."

"She can't contact him. He's disowned," Adrian pointed out.

"She absolutely can contact him! He's her brother!"

"I don't think you get it, darling. Aren't you supposed to be good with different people's views and how they think?" He asked, tapping the side of his forehead. "We, especially the ancients, are not to speak of the disowned, and we are most definitely not to contact them. Why? Well, for few different reasons, but the ultimate one that will usually be given to those who so inquire summed up into a few words is: daddy doesn't like it."

"Yes I've heard it all before," she replied, looking aggravated. "My husband insists on defending them. Forgive me for being defensive over the man I love."

"You've heard it all before but you don't understand? Or you do but choose not to?"

"It's hard to understand when I went through everything with him," she said stiffly. "Right as he was cast from his own family."

"He had you. His sisters and his mother had no one," Adrian offered thoughtfully.

"They had each other."

"Wrong."

The girl stared at him for a few moments, her deep brown eyes searching. "I'll take you to see him, but I wouldn't expect him to be overjoyed about it."

Adrian smirked, expecting her acceptance. Didn't take as long as he thought, actually. "Perfect."

"I'll take you now. I get off very soon anyway, and I have no other clients for today," she mumbled, going to the back to speak with her coworkers and to grab her things.

"Wonderful news, as I absolutely hate waiting and being still for too long," he told her peppily as she left.

The home was much bigger than he expected, though he wasn't sure why he had expected less. Children usually had their own funds in their own banks, and it was likely nothing happened to that when Edric was disowned. However, it was odd seeing a woman working in a small, stuffy building go home to a small mansion.

Once in the house, she called out loud for her husband, setting her things down to the side carelessly and leading Adrian to an oddly cozy living area.

"Ophelia," the deep voice came accusingly, a sound of alarm and irritation attached to it. "What have you done."

Adrian turned to face the owner of the voice, examining Edric and his clothing as well as his demeanor, finding him to present himself exactly as all the other men in his family's circle. You wouldn't be able to tell at all that he was a rejected son, gone to hand his prestigious name to some muggle-born.

"So good to see you, Edric. It's been some time," Adrian said heartily, grinning at him in greeting.

Edric narrowed his eyes at him before turning his cold gaze to his wife, waiting for an explanation.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, Edric," she said, glaring and crossing her arms. "You can at least wait for an explanation before you are angry with me."

"Adrian Pucey is in my home. There's not much room for explanation."

"But we're brothers now," Adrian tsked. "It's only polite to be acquainted."

Edric blinked slowly before an amused look of doubt covered his features as he did him a once over. "A much more believable excuse for being here would suit you better."

"You're right. It's hard to believe that Daphne Greengrass could land such a highly esteemed bachelor, but here we are, and she's Daphne Pucey now."

"It's extremely unlikely my father would agree to marry her to one of you."

One of you. Rude.

"Well, that's what happens when you fuck Draco Malfoy in an empty classroom and then he tells the whole community about it," Adrian said, shrugging. "Your options have to broaden a bit. I'm sure you'll hear about it soon enough, as you have access to the papers that circulate our circles I believe,"

Edric winced at his comment about his sister and Malfoy before his expression hardened, becoming more guarded. "Why are you here, Pucey."

"I told you, my dear brother. I'm here to get acquainted. Daphne was telling me so much about you, and I was curious."

His expression faltered and he looked beside Adrian, looking confused.

"I thought you said they didn't talk about the blood traitors, Adrian," Ophelia said, watching him, standing a bit away from her husband as she knew she had upset him.

"They don't, but Daphne had been holding it in so long she wasn't hard to crack. People tend to love talking about their problems to people who care to ask when they've never experienced that before. Don't you know that, doctor? Daphne didn't even know there was a muggle-born out there going by the Greengrass name. Imagine that."

"What did she say," he said quietly, a vulnerability in his tone.

"Lots of things about what happened when you left them."

"I didn't leave them," he ground out. "I was disowned."

"Yes, yes, but you knew the consequences of fucking around with a muggle-born, don't give me that. Especially visibly in public and near an event everyone in your community was attending. I also doubt you were disowned simply for being seen with her, and I'm sure you were given a choice. So you left them. It's alright. It's miserable there. I get it, but don't try to say you didn't choose your life. Unfortunately, your choices affected those who loved you as well."

"A choice that I was only given moments to think about."

Ophelia was watching the floor, looking a bit hurt at Edric's statement about not leaving on his own choice. Adrian understood, an understanding wife or not; people wanted to feel like they were the only and most important thing in the world to the people they loved.

"Come here," Edric ordered, walking passed him and out of the room to a study, going to the near end of the room and opening doors to a small Pensieve.

"What the fuck," Adrian complained. "How does everyone get a hold of these? They're harder to purchase than you'd think."

Edric ignored him, motioning to the Pensieve impatiently.

"What, you just want me to subject my wife to exposure of her vulnerable state with no consent when your hospitalities towards me have been completely lacking?"

"I can.. Offer you some tea?" Ophelia offered sheepishly after following them.

"Sure, dove. Tea is fine," Adrian answered, amused by her poor host skills.

"She is my sister. I'm the last person to view her maliciously," Edric argued.

"I believe she views you maliciously."

"She.. Has a right to," he said slowly, looking down as his eyes darkened.

Adrian considered him for a moment and shrugged. "Alright. I'll need my wand back. Your wife has it."

Edric's eyebrows raised. "You surrendered your wand to my muggle-born wife?"

"She didn't believe that I wasn't a Death Eater," he snorted. "Have you not corrected her in stereotyping all pure-bloods as Death Eaters? Especially my lot."

"She's a bit stubborn when it comes to what I tell her about our sort. However, based on the recent attacks it's correct to be wary of nearly everyone."

Ophelia returned, handing him a cup of tea which he set aside, drawing an annoyed scowl from her. "Why did you ask me for it if you didn't want it?"

"I didn't ask for it. You offered, and I just felt like seeing you fetch me something if I'm being honest. I'm giving you a hospitality exercise."

She made a disgusted face and turned to look at her husband, who offered her an unsympathetic look. "You brought him here, love."

Adrian took his wand back when she finally offered it, pulling the memory of Daphne's words from his head and dropping it in the Pensieve. Eric hesitated before moving forward to watch, his body tense.

Once the memory ended, Edric pulled back, his face much less composed than before. Mourning covered his features as he scrubbed a hand over his face, pain in his light eyes. He greatly resembled his father. Ophelia frowned, moving to touch her husband's arm in concern. "None of that was ever my intention," he choked out, his voice breaking.

Adrian felt uncomfortable, wondering if this was a good idea. Making people upset was certainly not the highlight of Adrian's life.

"No, it wasn't, but there are still consequences to actions. It doesn't make it your fault, however, though it seems as if Daphne feels that way."

"Of course she feels that way, and I knew that. It's different hearing it."

"Astoria may not feel that way," Ophelia offered, attempting to provide a bit of comfort. "Maybe you could ask her about it, Adrian."

Adrian snorted loudly. "Absolutely fucking not. You want me to offer myself as sacrifice to the reputation assassin? Listen, my wife is the shitty daughter of the family. Astoria is the golden child, and she's well up her father's arse, which was even more evident when Malfoy brought that Pensieve from her house. It's entirely incorrect to ask about these things, and I won't be asking asking her of all people. Fuck, she just exposed Zabini to Potter for having fucked his Weasley just for mocking her. I'm already treading dangerously just for being here, I'll pass on suicide."

"What about the Pensieve from our house, Pucey?" Edric asked, his eyes snapping to his.

"My Auror friends tell me Astoria is quite reasonable," Ophelia argued, shaking her head.

"Astoria is politically correct. I can assure you she has no warmth in her heart for your Auror friends, my dear."

"Pucey," Edric growled. "The Pensieve."

"Right. The big one. Malfoy took it. Astoria looked mortified I'll tell you that much."

Edric shook his head slowly, staring at Adrian. "He's a fucking idiot. You have to return it."

"I'll do no such thing. I don't fancy being the center of conflict, my brother. Plus, I want to use it. Tell me, where are the memories your father allegedly collects and has stored somewhere?"

"In the Pensieve," Edric snapped. "It holds them, and it will start extracting memories against the knowledge of the people around it eventually. You'd be intelligent not to go near it, and intelligent to tell Malfoy to put it back where it came from."

"Really?" Adrian asked, fascinated. "That's brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. I'm even more excited now, actually."

Edric grit his teeth, looking away from him coldly.

"Won't Astoria get in trouble with her father for taking it?" Ophelia asked, watching her husband.

Adrian shrugged. "Probably. Maybe. She's supposed to listen to her husband though, so. I don't know how'd he'd handle that one. I don't know him, and have only come across him a few times. He wasn't there to sign the papers for our marriage either, just Freya. Freya would not like you, lovely." he told her, eyeing her wild hair and common clothes.

"Astoria was so close to him from the memories I've seen," she said sadly, ignoring his assessment of her worth to her husband's mother. "Daphne seemed much more cold."

"You really want to like Astoria, I can tell, but you're wishing for someone who doesn't exist," he said, matching her sad tone to exaggerate sympathy. "This is the same girl who used the Cruciatus on a fellow classmate for well over the time suggested in only her fifth year before running into the arms of a Death Eater, a much better Death Eater than the one she married. A man who has likely killed multiple of your kind with no sympathy at all. At least Malfoy is a terrible murderer."