65. It wasn't a wedding at wand point, was it?

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James Mulligan was looking rather grumpy as he took the letter from the owl that had woken him up shortly before 6 am. He had hoped to get a lie-in as his charge wasn't expected before lunchtime at the Weasley family home.

"Cissy."

Narcissa Malfoy was looking at him with sleepy eyes.

"What is it, James?"

"I've been summoned to the Ministry. Shaw needs me for something. It sounds urgent and official."

"What about the girl? Will you take her?"

"No. I can't. She has to stay here. You have to protect her for me."

"But..."

He gently stroked his thumb over her cheek.

"Block the fireplace and use a shield and concealment charm once I'm gone."

"How long will you be?"

"I don't know yet. I'll send you an owl with the sixth year Hufflepuff prefect's name, when I'm on my way back. I'll ring the door bell."

He gently kissed her forehead.

"Don't worry. She's not some defenceless child and neither are you."

Moments later he was gone. The witch he had left behind did as he had asked and then went to check on Hermione. She was fast asleep.

'Finally.' the Malfoy matriarch sigh. She had heard her daughter-in-law cry half the day yesterday and the times she hadn't cried there had been sobs, gut wrenching sobs.

With this Muggle born witch ended the pureblood history of the House of Malfoy. She was one of the few people still alive that knew about the real history of the House she had married into. There had been the occasional exception to the heritage line as even the Malfoys weren't stupid enough to know about the risks of too much breeding within the same circle of families for too long. There had been the one or other village... she knew that the only appropriate word would be stud that had had the good fortune to spend a night with a witch and with it freshening the gene pool without knowing it.

She sighed. Would it have been better, if Draco had found one of the society girls interesting enough to make the effort to woo her? No, this young woman was just right for him. She wouldn't bow or scrap before him. She was the only girl that had ever slapped him. In comparison to what her son had had to endure over the years this incident paled by comparison, but it probably had been a wake-up call for him. He wasn't as untouchable as he had believed himself to be. There was somebody prepared to discipline him, in whatever way necessary.

She went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea. A smile was playing around her mouth. He had been going on about that slap in his letters the entire rest of his third year at Hogwarts. Though Narcissa Malfoy knew that it had never ever been mentioned to his father. His indignation had close to dripped of the parchment about how she had dared to touch him, never mind slap him. It had riled her son to no end that she wasn't the least bit afraid of what he might do in retaliation. He had expected fear on her part but had only got confidence and the unvoiced threat promising more of them same should he decide to cross the line again. He hadn't.

Sitting at the table she sipped her tea. Her son... married... and expecting to become a father himself in only two and a half months time. It still felt a bit strange to her, but seeing Hermione clearly displaying the signs of pregnancy there was no refuting the fact. She was going to be the Lady Dowager of the House of Malfoy soon, not the Lady of the House any more. Though... if she would... James might want her to...

A smile lit up her face as her thoughts turned to the Auror only to be disturbed moments later as she heard the roar of the fire in the living room. She hastily got up to check what was going on only to just glimpse the last sparks of green in the hearth. Hurrying to the room of her daughter-in-law she found the door slightly ajar. There was a strange anticipation running through her as she thought she knew what she would be seeing once the door was fully opened. She was right. The room was empty. Hermione was gone.

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Kreacher had been rather surprised as Hermione suddenly appeared in his kitchen, but he had never forgotten that it had been her that gave him the locket of Master Regulus. It had unsettled him to find her sobbing and weeping all the time all over the house during the summer, but he didn't hesitate to promise her that he wouldn't tell a living soul that she was hiding in the house. He insisted on making tea for her and getting her some light biscuits as well. She should go and sit in the drawing room, he would prepare the tea for her.

So she went upstairs and sat in the drawing room. A flick of her wand started the fire in the large fireplace and all engulfing warmth was spreading through the room shortly afterwards.

What was she going to do now? What if Draco didn't come back? What if they hurt him? What if they killed...? Her mind refused to even go along this path. She had to keep positive. She had to maintain hope. Yeah, right! She felt empty, lonely and bitter. Why did she always have to fight? She had been trying to stay alive for the past eight and a half years. She had been on the run, captured, tortured and been instrumental in defeating the worst evil to befall the wizarding world for centuries. Why was it that the very moment she was trying to have a normal life everything seemed to just go on as usual. There had been a year of reprieve while she had finished her education, but everything afterwards had just been more of the same old same old.

She sighed, sipped the hot tea. A frown spread over her forehead. Kreacher had served the delicious liquid and she hadn't even noticed. Another sigh. What was she going to do now? James Mulligan, the auror who had collected her had told her that he would make sure he got Draco back to her, alive and in one piece. He had sounded absolutely sincere. She had wished to believe him more than anything.

Another few sips later and she was recollecting what she had witnessed at the flat the auror had taken her to. Her mother-in-law had been there. Hermione hadn't been quite sure why at the beginning, but when she had observed her with him, the conviction had risen within her that there was more going on that they both let on. They had come to her wedding together. Ron had commented that his colleague hadn't been there on duty. There had been secretive glances between them and she was positive that they had been kissing before her protector had left to answer his summons to the Ministry earlier. Luckily her mother-in-law hadn't noticed her to be awake when she came into her room shortly afterwards. So, maybe Draco would have to face the prospect of a new man in his mother's life soon.

She closed her eyes and wondered for a moment whatever else she would have to face up to before the year would end. Slipping in the realm of dreams was a swift affair and Hermione didn't even notice it happening. She did notice thought that she was suddenly standing next to a river, on an icy path. The landscape was covered in snow, there were long icicles hanging from the barren branches. There was no sound to be heard. She looked around. There was something lying in the snow not far ahead of her.

Approaching the something carefully she realised that she didn't have her wand. How could that be? She knew it to be in the inside pocket of... She was wearing a knee reaching, long sleeved dress, but no coat, scarf or gloves. Her feet were only covered by sandals and the show engulfed her feet without there being any feeling of cold. This didn't make any sense.

It was a human form half hidden in the white winter fluff. She stopped. It was a male lying before her and then it hit suddenly home, his hair was nearly as white as the snow. He lay face down and there was reasonable doubt that he was wearing the amount of clothing covering her. Her hands reached for him before she realised that they were doing so.

His skin was like ice to the touch. Slowly and with a thundering heart she turned him over, knowing which face she would find. To her utter surprise it wasn't the man dear to her but his father. His eyes were broken, all life had to have left them quite some time before her arrival. Why was he here? What had killed him? It was futile to wonder about this kind of thing really. There was nothing she could to for him. Would she want to help him in any case? He had tried to kill her, had tried to kill Draco. He had tried to kill his own son. It didn't get much more evil than that. No, she would probably make an exception with him and not help. Or would she?

He suddenly inhaled sharply, his eyes blinking rapidly. Hermione shrieked.

"Miss must wake up! Miss dreaming! Bad dream!"

The voice took a while to penetrate Hermione's horror stricken mind. It was only as she had managed to untangle herself from the blanket covering her that she finally realised that she was safe and sound in Harry's house.

"Merlin! What a nightmare."

"Miss feeling better? Kreacher bringing more tea and biscuits."

She looked at the house elf standing next to her in front of the couch. Taking a deep breath and leaning back she closed her eyes for just a moment. She regretted it instantly. The moment her eye lids shut she could see the cold, nearly white face staring at her with its broken eyes. She could still see him suddenly waking up. A chill ran through her.

"Miss okay now?"

She took a deep breath.

"Yes, Kreacher, yes, I'm okay. Thank you for the tea and biscuits."

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