The Art of War

“Liberty may be gained, but can never be recovered."
Jean-Jacques Rousseau

The sun was barely rising, and not that a single streak of it made it through his curtains. Time was an arbitrary concept, and he'd learned early in his life to enjoy the bliss of blackout curtains. Hangovers had ceded to the nature of his position. Even with more tolerable hours of late, his body never truly managed to sleep a full night. A life of building enemies certainly hadn't helped. He stared at the ceiling for a spell, listening to her soft snores and quiet murmurs beside him. She was out cold and likely would be for some time.

Slowly, he turned towards her, brushing the chestnut curls out of her face, studying her as she lay. She was stunning, even like this, unaware of his attentions. For years, she hadn't noticed how closely he'd monitored her. Reaching beneath the blankets, he smoothed along the edge of her body, following the dip of her hourglass and rising over the hill of her hip. Gently guiding her onto her back, he was careful not to wake her. Not yet. Not when he wanted to give her that final release she'd so wonderfully earned.

Hermione had been dead to the world through the night, tucked in close to Draco. Sated, satisfied, sore, and unsuspecting of what her husband planned for the morning. Her hair lay in a tussled disarray across their pillows, sleeping on her side towards him. The light touch of his hand had her let out a slow sigh of contentment, almost making her nestle closer to him until he guided her onto her back.

The shift only came with a soft huff of breath in complaint, as if even in her sleep, she didn't want to move away from the warmth of his body or the affections of his touch. She stayed where he put her, stretching a little bit with an arch of her back before settling back on the bed.

A smile perked his lips at her resistance, even in slumber. He could feel his length shift between his thighs, growing harder from her response. He peppered the side of her chest in soft kisses, smoothing his ringed hand down her abdomen until it settled between her thighs. Would she always be this tempting? He tried not to linger on such thoughts, not wanting to pursue them too far. Carefully, he stroked her folds with a finger, curious as to whether or not she had the same desires he did so early in the day.

The soft kisses had a sigh leave her lips, still asleep but soaking up the affection even like this. It was shifting her dreams more towards something more sensual as his hands stroked down her body, and one found its way between her thighs. Her breath hitched at that first stroke of his finger, shifting in place and almost closing her thighs around his hand, her body still incredibly sensitive from the previous evening's activities.

Watching her, he wished he could see what delicious scenes unfolded that had her thighs collapse over his hand. Open your legs, he let his mind croon, hoping to match whatever she dreamed about. He had half a mind of tying her to the bed, but he feared waking her. He was patient. He could play the long game to do his deed.

Even in her sleep, she gave a soft whimper at the command, his voice layering in perfectly to the dream version of him teasing and tormenting her, in the most pleasurable ways, of course, in her dreams. It took a moment or two before her legs slowly spread open a bit more, her body responding to his touch and to the dreams he was triggering.

This time, he settled between them to prevent them from closing, a single finger teasing her, offering a bit of friction. Every delicious sound she made, the way her soft breasts laid against her chest. Rising on a breath or shifting with her movements. He was careful, heeding every motion, ensuring she was slick before seizing his length, allowing his glistening tip to slide over her twice before sheathing himself to the hilt. There was no stopping the groan from his lips as he leaned over her, ready to grip her wrists if he had to.

The teasing had her nearly moaning in her sleep, her breathing a little more uneven. All the while, her body remained incredibly responsive under his attentions. The brushes of his length against her core had her whimper before she woke with a gasp as he filled her, almost jerking up off the bed with surprise.

"Mmmm," he sounded as she roused, pushing her back down on the bed. He knew he had a good angle, and he wouldn't have her stop him before he could make her moan. With her pinned, he pulled back slowly until he was nearly out before slamming back in. "Good morning, darling," he breathed against her ear.

As she was brought back down to the bed and pinned, she whined softly, eyes still a little unfocused from sleep...and now pleasure as well. That slow withdrawal had her think he was about to pull out before she moaned as soon as he slammed in. Her hips arched into him, pleasure and pain from how sensitive she was pulsing through her and making her whine. "Draco..."

His name on her lips had his spine tingle, a glimmer of mischief and pleasure lingering in his silver gaze as he eyed her in the shadows. He'd make sure she would remember their night all day, one hard thrust at a time. Leaning forward, he nipped her lower lip before pulling back up to keep his angle, picking up the tempo as he rocked into her, giving her body that friction with every filling motion.

That expression on his face made her realize she was in trouble. The nip had her smile a little bit, but as soon as he rocked back into her, she nearly writhed. As she tugged at her pinned wrists, soft whimpers left her lips. So sensitive. So hot. How did he get her to respond so strongly to him? "You're going...to be...the death of me..." she managed to get out, her voice almost a whine.

"For today...only a petite mort," his words a groaning promise. Her body felt good under him, shifting as if there was anywhere to go, her sounds almost like soft cries. His breath grew more shallow with his quicker pace, his own body heating as pleasure began to build. If anything, she'd probably be the death of him, but he wasn't about to admit such a thing.

A moan left her lips as she tugged lightly at her wrists, her gaze never once leaving him. "Only? Only?" She asked a bit incredulously, her voice pitching up before she gasped, her hips rising to meet his thrusts despite herself. It hurt. It felt amazing. She wanted him to stop. She didn't want it to end. Her mind spun with it all and made it hard to think all over again.

A wide grin spread over his features, flashing pearly white teeth in the shadows of the room. "Eight," he reminded firmly, punctuating the single word on a thrust.

The punctuation of that word with a thrust had her arch and moan, tugging at her wrists to try and grab at him. Her hand flexed. She needed to grip onto something, to feel a bit more secure as he filled her over and over again. Her body already trembling from the mix of pleasure and pain. "S-s-seven wasn't e-enough?"

The heat of her was almost excruciating. He knew she was swollen after the night before. Knew that she was sensitive, but he also knew her body. Despite it all, she was enjoying this. He didn't trust himself to respond. Not when he was getting so close. After last night, he was sensitive too, and the way she stuttered her question only added to his growing need to spill inside of her. Instead, he continued his punitive pace, gripping her wrists more firmly as she tugged and grasped.

Hermione gasped at the pinch of his grip on her wrists, squirming under him as her breath came faster. Soft sounds left her lips at his lack of answer and the building pleasure. Rolling her hips to meet that punitive pace had her nearly trembling, but she couldn't stop even if she wanted to.

He could feel the tension rising inside, that pleasure building. The more she struggled, the firmer he pushed into her. If his bed weren't as massive as it was, the posters would have collided against the wall from their motions. Instead, the room filled with her sounds, his breath, and the soft protests of the mattress as he pistoned her into it.

"D-Draco," she gasped his name, the sound turning to a moan halfway through. The way he drilled into built her up and up. Walking without the help of a potion wouldn't be possible. She'd be wobbling on her legs like a fawn. She didn't care, couldn't care, as she fell apart on a scream of his name, nearly sobbing in pleasure from the over-sensitivity of it all.

He was spilling into her by the time her inner walls clenched. He'd managed to time their ends a number of times, but not like this. The way her body milked him had him hiss as he gave three more thrusts into her. Panting, he slowly lowered himself, his chest to her breasts, his cheek against hers as he gave himself a moment to breathe. "Mmmm," he sounded in praise, releasing her wrists to touch along her side. "That's my good witch."

Her body trembled, whimpers and sobs of pleasure still falling from her lips at those little aftershocks. As soon as he let go of her wrists, her arms came up around him, one burying in his hair as she grounded herself in being able to touch him. Blush filled her cheeks at the praise that added to the pleasure of this moment. "...Insatiable man..."

For a moment, he just basked in the way she clung to him. Insatiable was a term he couldn't deny, but in this manner, it was only for her. Snaking his arms beneath her, he held her close and rolled her onto his chest as his breath slowed back to a normal rate. Gently, he petted her hair, smiling and pleased. Today would be a good day, or so he told himself before practically knocking her off at the burn on his arm. Instead of clutching for it, he held her tighter, not wanting to push her away. He'd never had flesh contact against his mark when it burned. Would she feel it? He let his arm drop, not wanting her to if it did.

As he rolled her onto her chest, she gasped, the sound almost turning to a giggle as she gradually relaxed on top of him. If the day were spent naked with him in bed, not having more sex but just pressed close, she would be a very happy witch indeed. Until he nearly knocked her off of him and then held her tighter. She grumbled before she glanced at his arm. The mark she normally could tune out completely. It seemed to pulse, and with each pulse while she was this close to him, the hair at the back of her neck stood on end. "...Bloody hell..." she whined softly, nuzzling into his neck, trying to soak up as much affection as possible.

"Fuck," the singular word escaped him as he looked at the ceiling. He hated it. Hated that he had to leave. With a sigh, he kissed her temple and slipped out of bed. It was the last thing he wanted to be doing on the worst of days, but when the alternative had been what he was doing... He steadied himself and cleared his mind, the cold detachment of occlumency settling in. There would be no time for showers or niceties, and who knew how long he'd be gone this time. He doubted she wanted to join him, so he didn't press. He reached for his wand and summoned his attire and robes. At least magic made quick work of such things.

"My sentiments exactly...And if I had a choice between going again and crying...or letting you go...I'd go with the first option," she grumbled a little as she slowly moved to sit up on the bed. Looking around, she found her wand on the bedside and chewed on her bottom lip a moment before summoning one of the vials that would at least soothe some of the aches. "...How likely is he to send you away?"

He’d been about to summon his mask when he realized what she was doing. “I don’t know,” he replied honestly. “I can be hours like I can be days…” he hoped for the former. He liked the odds if she joined him, but also feared she wouldn’t have time to properly occlude her mind. “Can you handle it?” He wasn’t sure which scenario he was asking about. Time was fleeting. He summoned his mask. “I can only delay so long.”

Taking the potion in one gulp, she summoned clothes. Trousers and a nice blouse rather than skirts. She took in slow, deep breaths as she moved to stand to get dressed, using a spell to tame her tresses. "Can easily report that I just managed a literal translation, so it is only a matter of time before I get the details he needs. And I may need the brightest wizard our age to help." The potion she took helped, but she knew it would wear off eventually, and then she could just bask in the aches of her body he had caused.

Draco nodded. She’d had a breakthrough recently enough. He extended his arm in invitation. There would be no flight today.

Pulling on a pair of ankle boots, she strode over to him. The potion didn't take away the slight burn of her muscles, but she could walk until she had to take another one. Hopefully, she would be able to get them back before too much time had passed. Taking his arm, she tried not to fidget at the feeling of his release dripping into her knickers. She'd need a shower once they returned. She gave a nod of her head and tucked herself in closer, clearing her mind of everything that she possibly could.

“Stay close,” he growled. He didn’t like this, but it was a necessary evil. It was perfect that she’d still feel him between her thighs. The sort of discomfort that couldn’t be faked. “We mustn’t keep Him waiting.” His tone matched the cold void in his gaze. He’d make it up to her later. With her tight against his chest, he focused on the pull in his arm and let it pull them to the Dark Lord’s demands. When they arrived, he sent a quick Kneel. Nose to the ground. through the bond as he fell to a knee before his master, kissing the hems of his robes as he had done so many times before.

“My Lord,” he greeted easily, always managing the words with a hint of worship. “Forgive me.” It was easier than trying to explain her presence.

As soon as she felt new ground beneath her feet, she moved immediately to her knees and bowed her head to the ground. Not looking up. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest. Unlike when she was on her knees for the blond, she had to keep revulsion from flavoring her tongue. She didn't say a word, staying knelt as she was.

The Dark Lord glanced at the blond with a slight smile that could have been a grimace. "Draco...Is there a reason that your...wife is joining us for a summons?" Even with the cool anger, he watched the pair with idle curiosity. It was winning for the moment, which was why neither of them was writhing in pain.

“She made a breakthrough recently, my lord,” he supplied smoothly. “I thought it best she explain it directly to you,” he concluded. He braced himself for the next steps. For now, her deep bow ensured they were being indulged. He had to hope it would continue the good graces they were being afforded.

The Dark Lord glanced between the pair of them, reaching for his lieutenant's mind first even as he spoke. "Excellent. Mrs. Malfoy? You may sit up. But stay where you are and on your knees," he drawled.

The brunette took in a slow breath and sat up, staying on her knees with her hands settled on them, head slightly bowed in what appeared to be deference. "Thank you, my lord." Her words were quiet and unsteady—a nervousness used to mask her truer feelings.

"No need for fright, Mrs. Malfoy. Especially not if what you have to say is useful...go on." He prompted.

Taking in a slow breath, she started. "Each of the artefacts has linked to each other, creating clue after clue. The previous items were all literal. It was why this translation took so long. None of the literal translations worked. It was meant figuratively, which has us researching more about the context in the culture it comes from to get you an accurate translation. It seems to be part of an instruction as to what the other artefacts are alluding to. With the proper help, it should be translated and accurately pieced together before Christmas. Longer without the proper tools, but manageable. The Muggle is useful, helping with a lot of the research and grunt work, but I would need someone that knows our world better, my lord," she murmured and dropped her head a bit further down.

Watching her on her knees with that look of deference was a sight Draco enjoyed. Honestly, he didn't make her kneel half as much as he wanted. Perhaps he'd change that. Kneeling beside her, he listened as she explained her breakthrough similarly to how she had to him. It beat bringing the muggle over, and though they always risked the Dark Lord's ire, Draco was ready with an excuse to avoid torturing his wife. After all, it was his job to do so.

"Do you have someone at your disposal?" The Dark Lord demanded, eyeing his lieutenant. "Or perhaps your wife has someone in mind..." he continued, delving into her mind as though to find a deception. Christmas was quite a while away.

Draco considered a moment. "I could assign Nott, but as smart as he is with complex magic, language would limit him. We didn't exactly leave Mexico on the best of terms..." That would certainly make getting a willing expert more difficult.

Keeping her head bowed, she could feel him delving into her mind and focused on the translations. The deep desire to get it accomplished, to prove she hadn't lost her touch when it came to academics. "Nott can help with the concepts...I think my husband might be able to help us get it faster. The pair of us were head to head in school when it came to marks...and under your guidance, he has stayed sharp and brilliant. Becoming more so over the years..." She gave a compliment to both of them, giving Him the credit.

She shifted a little uncomfortably but stayed where she was. The feeling of her knickers getting sticky with their morning activities wasn't pleasant. The thought almost had her blush.

"And neither of you would get..." he looked Hermione over with a knowing look before glancing back at his lieutenant. While amusement was there, there was also a warning. "Distracted?"

"Distracted?" Draco asked unphased by the accusation. It wouldn't be the first time it was thrown around casually. "Hardly. Just ensuring she carries to term her vow to give me an heir. We should know soon enough whether we've succeeded or not." It was cold, calculated, ever the expectation of maintaining the bloodline. Even if it weren't pure, a Malfoy heir would still retain the power of its title, more so because of how strong his witch was, even if she was displaying her best behavior. He'd have to reward her for it later.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, remembering the vow. The cool detachment with which he stated that would have made most uncomfortable. Even with convenience. She kept her head bowed. "Research and academics are my passion. I won't let this mystery remain unsolved." It was enough of her own pride and reassurance that she could give. Nothing was half finished or half attempted by her. Including all of this, despite her best efforts at the beginning not to be this involved. Knowledge was a temptation she could hardly resist.

"Your wife should have been a Ravenclaw, with passions like those," he drawled to Draco, ignoring the with completely for the moment. "Anything besides your wife's breakthrough to report?"

She might have made a good Ravenclaw, but he certainly still believed she could have done great things in his former house. "I've received word that a few key players from the insurgents have gone missing. They blame us, but considering none of our units have reported them, I assume either they're covering friendly fire, or my wife and Luna's defection have caused quite the exodus...I have a list compiled," he reached into his pocket and extended it. Remembering the names of traitors wasn't worth his while.

Taking the piece of parchment, he unfolded it and glanced over it with a cruel smile. "Longbottom and Abbot...A healer and a tactician. Good defections...keep an eye out for them in case they are planning something like the Finnegan boy." He drawled, looking between the two of them like he was attempting to learn something that wasn't solely based on their memories. Or their thoughts.

"Of course, my Lord," he bowed his head in acknowledgement.

Hermione kept her gaze downcast. Part of her hated it, but she didn't dare move. The bit of self-loathing she had during this would also make sense. She doubted He would believe she adored everything about her new position. Like the implication of her simply being a good brood mare for the Malfoy heirs. It grated a little bit, something she hadn't realized he would pick up on.

"Draco? Perhaps if the pair of you aren't expecting by her own little deadline...a potion or two could be the remedy....Stop focusing on what ails her after and start focusing on getting an heir," he looked at her directly before glancing at the blond with narrowed eyes. "Or perhaps one of yours should be skipped." The implication that he knew that one or both of them was taking some sort of potion was there, a simple warning not to trifle with him.

Another few moments ticked by in silence. "You'll help your wife, Draco. I expect an update at the Halloween gala. If sufficient progress hasn't been made with your help, we'll get helpers that won't distract your wife. Or perhaps will keep both of you on task better...." He warned them both.

At the mention of his name in such a manner, Draco lifted his chin to meet his master's gaze. The implication made him scoff, as if he would leave anything to chance. "I swapped her potions during our honeymoon," he said honestly. It hadn't exactly been easy considering how much their bodies had demanded one another, not that it would have helped. It was nearing the end when he'd finally had the opening to do so. He couldn't deny taking potions, but then that didn't mean he hadn't swapped them out, too. "You'll have a report at the gala. I've no doubt working together will yield better results."

That scoff and that admittance were like a cold splash of water that chilled her to the bone. The bit of shock there was something she couldn't completely hide before it was masked completely.

The Dark Lord chuckled as he watched her reactions. "Making sure she can't raise a hand against you was certainly necessary...I'm sure a new Malfoy will be announced before too long, then. Assuming her body has recovered from how malnourished those insurgents had her," he added, watching her carefully before giving his attention back to Draco. "Very good, son. Very good. I expect them."

"Is there anything else you require of me, my lord?" he inquired, not wanting to offend and take his leave before being dismissed. It'd been a while since he'd avoided some form of ire, but then, he figured he'd have enough of that once they were back home. He could practically taste her anger at his side, not that he bothered to look. He would handle his wife at home, as he always did: behind closed doors.

"You're both dismissed," the Dark Lord waved them off as he glanced at the piece of paper as if the names on the list were infinitely more important at the moment than either of them.

Rising, he gripped his wife's arm a bit more firmly than he intended, knowing she'd likely struggle to get near him after the admission. He had anticipated it, though he had always thought it'd merely be a secret for him to keep with her none the wiser. It didn't change anything. "Come on, darling," he eyed her with warning through his mask. They'd be working quite closely for the foreseeable future. There'd be no avoiding one another. Not with current deadlines.

She didn't fight him, though she did wince at the harder grip and nodded her head as she shifted closer to him. The term of endearment had started as her simply playing her role but had become something...different over the last few week. Now it felt like ash on her tongue. She couldn't say it. Didn't trust her voice or how quick she was to snap. Could that also be why she was more emotional lately or be why her sub drop was so bad?

Instead of saying anything, she gave a nod of her head. Quiet and obedient outside, while in her mind, she seethed.

That silent hatred masked in compliance did more for him than he cared to admit. He felt himself stir at the sight of her. Holding her tight to his chest, he disapparated them back into the foyer of the Manor, where the wards allowed them to. He wondered if she'd make it all the way to their wing before she exploded.

As she stumbled a step as they landed in their foyer, no his foyer, she took in a slow breath and started for the stairs to their quarters. There was a slight wobble to her steps, still feeling all of what he had put her through the last night and this morning. Her body was sensitive, and that wet feeling in her knickers that had nothing to do with her being turned on or stirring for him had that anger burning in her chest. She didn't stop. She strode as gracefully as she could ahead of him.

Draco followed, a sigh on his breath as he watched her struggle in her steps. He kept close but didn't help her. She was already mad, and he wasn't about to irritate her further. This was exactly why he hadn't told her, because she wouldn't think about it rationally. When the doors of their wing closed behind them, he quickened his pace, reaching for her elbow as she neared the study.

She winced a little. Her body was still so sore, and she wanted out of these clothes, and she needed a bath. Needed to scrub what they had done that morning off of her body. His fingers brushing her elbow had her jerk her arm away with a pointed glare at him as they walked into the study. Once the doors closed, she laughed. The sound brittle.

"I should have realized....very naïve of me to think that you not lying to me meant that you wouldn't keep secrets from me...secrets that absolutely do concern me," she seethed, not shouting, but that rage burned in her eyes along with something else. Hurt and betrayal.

Draco pulled off his mask and set it on his desk to properly look at her. She was fuming. "I did what was expected of me to take the blame off of you," he responded calmly, though he couldn't say he wasn't annoyed at this. "When we don't produce an heir, they'll try to blame you," he reminded sternly. The longer she spent without carrying his heir, the more the likes of Astoria would come sniffing around. He had needed to ensure he was the one getting the heat, not her. "I haven't stopped taking my potions," he hissed. "Nothing has changed."

Hermione ran one hand through her hair and shook her head. "And you didn't think that warranted saying? That you'd make a choice about my body and just hope I didn't realize? Make me think my brewing had gone faulty when I suddenly had another period?" That thought process had her freeze. She had no products for that anymore. Hadn't for years. A groan left her lips as she rubbed at her face. "...Really? You think my moods are volatile now? Throw PMS into the mix, Draco." She hissed right back as she shot a glare at him. " 'Nothing has changed.' About me not getting pregnant? Perhaps. But no, things have changed."

Every time she thought she was getting closer and thought she could relax enough around him, she got thrown another curve ball.

"You act like I don't enjoy your feistiness," he stepped closer, trying to keep calm. She could be angry with him. He wouldn't apologize for protecting her. "So you'll be angry and a little messy," he drew closer, one slow step at a time. The elves had stocked their en suite. He vaguely remembered his mother's monthly rampages in his youth. "At least you won't be on the receiving end of a cruciatus curse in the near future," he added pointedly. Even the Dark Lord wouldn't risk his lieutenant's heir. There were lines that weren't to be crossed. Not unless they were warranted, and short of realizing his long-term goal, he doubted there'd be reason.

Those slow steps towards her, as if she were a spooked animal, made the glare more intense. "You enjoy quelling it or when it's targeted at others," she snapped. He liked making her obedient and needy, but she pushed those thoughts aside. Thinking about last night was not going to help her anger and would make her body react when she really did not want him filling her back up. "A little messy? Clearly, I'm not the only naïve one. I've been on the receiving end of a cruciatus curse many times. Before you scooped me up from the insurgency, it was basically just a Tuesday if it happened," she nearly growled the words.

"You are incredibly lucky that I can't hex you right now, Draco Malfoy. I've consented to you doing what you please with my body while we're in bed. That did not include what potions I do and do not take." Betrayal. Trusting him was a mistake. And yet she responded to him, and he was attentive in bed. He gave her free reign to do as she pleased with his money, his houses, and his properties. Where she might have feared treading dangerously close to hitting one requirement of their vows, she wasn't afraid of that now.

That glare, the tone in her voice, it did it for him. He could stand here and counter her arguments until she was blue in the face, but he saw it for what it was. "Naive?” He held back the derision at the accusation as best he could. “You think I’m naive?” He met her gaze. “In all your self-righteous ire, did you ever consider why the Dark Lord brought it up?" He asked. "You want to hurt me? Go for it. You want to convince yourself I won't desire you because your body what? Follows its natural rhythm?" He practically scoffed at his own words. "I can handle your anger, and since you still seem to be shaken by how hyper-aware of you I am, you’re likely PMSing as we speak."

"No, I didn't. My apologies for realizing that the man that keeps telling me to just trust him fucked with my potions without telling me a damn thing!" She knew he likely had to. Her reaction, the devastation of it, was likely exactly what the Dark Lord wanted. And yet she couldn't stop that anger. Her body ached. She could still smell the scent of him lingering on her skin. Still feel on her wrists where and how firmly he had pinned her to the bed. "No, I'm not attempting to convince myself you won't desire me because my body does what it's meant to do. That is not why I'm angry, Draco." She was seething as she took a few steps towards him, almost wobbling a little. Damn them both for going that many times in a row last night. It made it very hard for her to prove her damn point. "It's the fact that you took my agency in this. Isn't that something you wanted to give back to me in this? Wasn't that one of your selling points on wedding you?"

His hands cupped her cheeks, meeting her gaze. He wanted to steady her but didn’t want to make her feel even angrier for it. “I took what is expected of me,” he replied. “You want your potions; find me your alternative,” he reminded her of the bigger picture. She didn’t want a power vacuum. Every delay came at a price. “I give you every inch of leeway I can,” he reminded, sighing and pulling away before he did something like kiss her.

The way he cupped her face made her tense. Part of her wanted to lean into the touch and cry, which had her clued in that she likely was PMSing all over again. Perfect. And the other part of her wanted to punch him square in the jaw like she had third year. Her right hook had only gotten better with time. "And what have I been drinking then if you swapped my potions?" She dropped the hisses, the growls, her voice such a deadly calm that it was like she was about to turn everything off for a little while. As much as she could.

“A mix of adaptogens that reduce stress,” he responded gently. It wasn’t much, but it was something he’d hoped would be soothing, if anything. “Let’s get you settled in a nice warm bubble bath. I’ll get you another dose of your potion for the soreness and order some brunch.” He knew she was pulling away again, and he wasn’t going away. He could give her time, but he also wouldn’t let her wallow, not when she’d gotten him to work with her. “Perhaps something chocolaty?” He offered. If it worked for Boggarts, it worked for PMSing witches, right?

She snorted. "At least you were attempting to help," she grumbled, still glaring at him before she ran her fingers through her hair. "...I'll go and shower. Don't particularly feel like soaking...Not going to give me a different potion?" Her tongue was moving faster than her brain. Or perhaps her emotions were. All she wanted to do was yell or cry or scream. Fucking hormones. Whenever she felt those first cramps later, he'd be really damn sorry for messing with her potions. "...Dark chocolate. And that doesn't fix this."

At least she seemed to realize it, and he was enough of a gentleman not to rub it in. “Shower, I’ll get you potions as I have always provided you with, and all the dark chocolate you can stomach,” he responded calmly. Of course, it didn’t fix things; he wasn’t exactly fixing anything. He’d take care of her, just like he vowed. She was stuck with him until death, and that was final.

She sniffed slightly at that. Potions like he had always provided. It had her eye him carefully, as if he could be hiding anything else, before she turned and walked back to his room and his bathroom. Maybe she'd even keep taking the stupid potion that helped reduce stress because she wanted to scream. She stripped once in his room proper, using a spell to summon a robe to hang up on the door before she went straight to the shower. The heat of it was enough to steam up any reflective surface and make her skin tinged a light pink, but it was helping.

Where her anger was welcome, he only really enjoyed her sobs when they were warranted. He let her get ahead, calling his elf forward to have food prepared for his wife with an emphasis on dark chocolate.

Once the kitchens were hard at work, he entered the adjoining bathroom to pull out potions, sending a few salves to their bedside. The other he walked to the shower, considering his options. The steam in the room should have kept him away, but he’d made his bed. Avoiding her wouldn’t solve anything, and after their morning, he could use a wash with a side of pain. With a flick of his wand, he undressed and stalked in, stifling a hiss at the heat of the water against his alabaster skin. Every contact with the water turned his flesh redder than the lattice on her back. “Drink before you fall,” he handed her the same potion she’d taken before joining his summons. He hoped she’d at least learned something they could use down the road. He should have anticipated his master’s ability to sew discord.

As he joined her in the shower, she lifted a brow at the small bit of a grimace as he stifled his hiss. Taking the potions from him, she opened the vial and downed it in one go. The taste let her know it was the exact same one she took before the summons. It helped with some of the aches. She would summon some of the books she'd been combing through for translation to try and read in their study. She didn't want to go to the library and see that emerald chair right now. Instead of saying a word, she started on her hair.

Draco washed himself as she silently ignored him. He didn’t shy from the heat or the sizzle. It made him feel where her nails had dug into his back and scalp. “If you want pain, you know you can just ask, right?” He drawled. Maybe pissing off his wife after granting her verbal consent to hurt him wasn’t the best idea, but they couldn’t function if they were ignoring each other. He’d rather she catch him up than Lauren if he were going to be working with translated artefacts to decipher rituals.

She scoffed slightly. "Doesn't hurt. Not really. You want me to not show signs of anger at you outside these quarters? Fine. I'm finding an outlet that won't have me pull away any time you casually touch me over the next few days. And because of my big mouth and foolishly wanting you around, you're to help me with the damned translations." She grumbled, clearly upset with herself for even admitting she had wanted him around. It was infuriating, and while she understood it was to protect her, she wasn't a damsel. She could stand on her own two feet. At least, she normally could when pleasure and overstimulation didn't leave her body aching.

Draco gripped the back of her neck and pulled her close. “How’s this for casual touching,” he pulled her in close. She wanted an outlet he’d give her one. As much as he wanted to slam her in the wall and kiss her, he stopped himself. “I can’t say I have any complaints when it comes to your mouth,” he responded gently, stepping into her space. “Even less being given over a month to produce results.” Because that’s what they had. A little more than six weeks ahead of them, thanks to that big beautiful mouth of hers that he eyed.

As he grabbed her neck, she gasped, shivers wracking down her body as he pulled her in close. She stifled a whimper, hating for just a moment how easily her body responded to his touch. "Well, I suppose eventually that someone was bound not to have complaints. You're welcome..." she responded with a sniff. She wanted to wrap herself in her irritation while she was in the shower, but it seemed like he didn't want that kind of space. Because, of course, he didn't.

Those sounds, he hated how attuned he was to them. How, with a single whimper, she could make the burn on his back be overridden by the desire hardening between his thighs. Leaning forward so that his lips were at her ear, he breathed. "Get used to it," he spoke in an undertone. Because he didn't really have complaints, and where he enjoyed breaking her in the bedroom, he liked her fire. Was this more damage from her side, constantly chiseling away at her? "Because I will never complain about that mouth of yours." He met her gaze. It didn't mean he had to agree with it, but then, no two people would ever agree on everything.

Feeling his body reacting against hers almost made her press into him. She was tired. Her body was sore. And if she wanted to be able to stride through the manor like she did, she'd need the break. Not letting him go for nine or ten in a twenty-four-hour period. His words in her ear had her tremble, a soft sigh leaving her lips before she pulled away to rinse her hair, moving to put her hair potion through it. "Never is an awfully long time when you're stuck with me for the rest of our lives."

Every movement she made didn't go unnoticed. He could practically feel her fight her wants, confirming it with that sigh. A huff of mirth as he let her go to rinse her hair and continue her routine. "I like my odds," he shrugged, reaching over her head for his hair potions. It wasn't like she'd get sated anywhere else, and though she might feel sore now, eventually, she'd be back for more. Until then, he would be around. She'd made sure of that herself.

The huff had her look at him, actually look at him. She was mad about the potions, but should she really be surprised? He didn't lie about who he was or what he did or what he was like. Never claimed that saving her was selfless or anything of the like. Letting the potion sit on her hair like she needed it to, she paused before leaning over quickly and nipping his jaw. "Course you do...." she said simply while leaning against the shower wall. The marks on her back likely blended in with the pink of her skin at the moment. "I'm assuming since neither of us was hexed or cursed that I did well?" At least redirecting a little would help.

"Extremely," he praised, amused by her nip. It had him step in as she pressed her back to the wall. "I'd assume he supposed your temper would suffice to punish me," he slicked his lips. If anything, he liked it when she was infuriated, when she brought that fire to the table. "Such a pity I promised myself to let you rest today," he settled a hand on her hip and pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. Just as quickly as he'd invaded her space, he braced himself for the heat against his scalp, searing as it removed the product. "Any preference on where you'd like to eat?" he asked.

Despite how sore she was, her body still reacted to how close he was to her. That light kiss to the cheek made her want to claim his lips, but they'd get carried away, especially with how angry she was. A sigh left her lips as she watched him remove his product before she went under the hot spray to do the same. "Anywhere in our wing. I'd rather have someplace comfortable to sit where I don't have to see your men for a little bit...can only imagine the looks I'd get..." which would test their respect for her title as lady of the house and maybe give her an outlet for her anger. One that wouldn't make the aches worse.

He could work with her request. Her discomfort wasn't for his men to see. She was his to torment. "I should probably send a good chunk of them out," he sighed. If he was going to be stuck at the manor, he didn't want to deal with most of them. He still wouldn't complain about being close to her for an extended stretch without having to deal with other people's problems. It would be refreshing. Though he doubted he'd sleep in, it was nice to know he potentially could if he wished. "I can take a moment to send Theo to help Lauren and get us whatever titles you want..."

That offer had her pause before leaving over to place a quick kiss on his jaw before turning off the water since they were both clean, and she summoned them both towels. Passing him one, she took the time to dry herself without magic. "I won't complain about having fewer people in our home. It would help with the work we still need to do." Like Neville and Hannah. Like the translation. Like preparing for Halloween. Her birthday trip had completely slipped her mind. "That would be perfect. Thank you. I'd rather dig into everything with minimal distractions. And your library happens to be one of my favorite ones." One of. Why couldn't she have claimed it was her favorite? Because it wasn't true.

Fewer people meant Zabini would probably get more comfortable. He'd deal with it as it arose, he figured. They did have quite a bit to handle. As he towel-dried himself, he considered a timeline to achieve it all in. Warrington and Pike wanted more leeway. It seemed fair to give it to them, if only to get them out. "I'll go pave the way for our busy schedule," he gave a single breath of laughter as he reached for his wand and summoned clothes from his closet. "I'll meet you in our study for lunch." Nothing was his any more, not since they'd signed the paperwork and slapped a blood vow on top. "Send a list to Theo. I'll make sure he knows to expect it."

Summoning clothes from their shared closet, she walked over to the bed and dropped the towel as she started to get dressed. Part of what the ladies had told her had got in her head. The blouse she picked left her back open, showing the crisscrossing of the flogger against her back. No bra to push into them, but a built-in section helped support her. She pulled on a pair of knickers and a skirt before picking flats. No need to make the wobbling worse. "I thought you were promising brunch," she stated simply with a raised brow. It was still early enough for it. "I'll compose the list for Theo. It'll be sent before you're done with the rest of your men."

“At this hour, it can be anything you want it to be,” he chuckled. He wasn’t going to contradict her on it. Especially when she was displaying herself for him as she did. He perked a brow. Was she openly teasing him? After he offered her a truce? He tried not to overthink it, or he’d never manage to do what needed doing. “I’ll be as quick as I can,” he promised, stealing a kiss.

"Good," she said with a little bit of a huff as she ruffled out her hair, using magic to properly dry it before tucking her wand into the pocket of her skirt. The kiss had her blink a few times, seemingly debating for a moment before she grabbed him, pulled him in, and kissed him quickly before leaving for the study. Kisses she wouldn't deny him. Not when she wanted them despite her anger.

A smile perked his lips as she met his lips, scampering off quickly. He'd planned to do so, to leave her wanting, and that sly minks...He chuckled under his breath, giving her a few moments before following and going straight to the hall to handle what needed handling.

Summoning parchment and her quill, she curled up on one of the comfier couches, pulling a throw blanket over her legs, and quickly jotted down all of the titles that she needed. Calling for one of the house elves, she sent the note to Theo and then summoned a book to read for herself until they all arrived. A disgruntled mreow got her attention a moment before Crookshanks jumped up and landed on her stomach. Feeling much heavier than she ever recalled him being.

"Who gave you so many treats?" She asked while petting behind his ears, hearing his stuttering purr with a smile.

After squaring away most of his men onto missions outside the manor, Draco made his way back to their wing. He'd caught Theo as he received the note from his wife before discussing with the elves to have brunch served in the study as he'd promised. They were obviously annoyed but knew better than to fight.

Draco entered the study as a couple of elves walked on his heels. They began using their magic to set a table for two, settling a number of dishes heavy on the dark chocolate. Heart-shaped chocolate cakes with fruits and whipped cream, dark chocolate souffle, and nearly everything present featured the key ingredient she had requested. Pulling out a chair, he silently beckoned her to join him.

Hermione kept petting her orange menace, murmuring to him every so often as she read. She had been rather comfortable. As Draco came in flanked by their elves, she almost snorted. They looked so very frustrated that they were dining in a non-dining room. They could learn to deal with it, she supposed.

Standing up carefully, she stretched and rolled her shoulders, taking careful but smoother steps over to the table, sitting in the chair he pulled out for her. She supposed she could let him be a gentleman. It was only a matter of time before she started cursing his name worse.

After tucking her in, he took a seat. Looking over the couch, he watched as one of the elves offered Crookshanks a small coupe of his own with minced meat of some kind. The cat was absolutely spoiled. "I saw Theo on the way to meet Lauren. We should have your requested titles by the time we're done eating brunch," he broke the silence, placing a few items on his plate. Hopefully, she was appeased by the selection. He'd make a note to ensure the house always had a stash of dark chocolate.

Selecting a chocolate souffle, some French toast, and getting herself some juice and water, she glanced over at the elves and Crookshanks. She couldn't help but chuckle. "...So, that explains why he's gotten so plump," she murmured. But Crookshanks wasn't listening, eating his food gratefully. Spoiled little ball of chaos.

Looking back at Draco, she nodded with a faint smile. "Excellent. I'm sure with both of us working on it, it will get down rather quickly."

"For both our sakes, I certainly hope so," he responded between bites. The sooner they figured out the ritual the Dark Lord wished, the quicker they could figure out a plan to ensure he didn't find a new source of immortality. He had to hope it was another dead end, even if it was painful.

"And the cat will always be spoiled rotten," he added, stirring his cup of tea. Honestly, sometimes he felt like she kept waiting for him to torture small animals.

For both of their sakes. And hopefully, she could find a way to twist it to break that dream of the Dark Lord's or at least help keep it from happening as hard as that might be. There had to be an option where they both still lived, and the Dark Lord died. "You're going to make him too fat at this rate," she teased just a little bit, eyeing him before taking a bite of her food. The dark chocolate was pure indulgence.

Closing her eyes to enjoy it a moment, she sighed before taking another bite. "I almost think you enjoy spoiling him."

"That almost sounds like a compliment," he offered with a slight perk of his lips into a corner smile. He also enjoyed spoiling her, but he wasn't about to point it out.

"You can always have the elves lessen his portions," he pointed out. Crookshanks was old; he wasn't about to be the one to deny him anything, but then he'd always had a softer spot for animals. Even more so that he was her cat.

"It almost was," she said simply with a light shrug before taking another bite of her food. Glancing back at her cat, she sighed and shook her head. "No...he struggled enough with me for seven years. He deserves to be a pampered house cat like he was when I was in school..." The thought almost had her grimace. Her parents had spoiled him, too.

Pushing that memory aside, she enjoyed the chocolate, using that to help brighten her mood. In times of strife, she did try to remember Professor Lupin's advice: Eat, you'll feel better. It had certainly helped her transition here. Once she realized the food wasn't poisoned.

They both deserved to be pampered, but Draco knew better than to speak such things. Instead, he silently enjoyed the way her lips wrapped around her fork, how she seemed to enjoy every bite. He could have sworn he watched her grow more content as she ate. At least dark chocolate wasn't overly sweet, which made it palatable.

"Once we have more information, you can always enlist Luna in our research," he reminded. He had every intention of roping Theo in, no reason not to get every useful pair of eyes on deck.

The way he watched her had her almost fidgeting, and it was almost enough to make her blush. It wasn't the eating her alive look, but something else. Almost like appreciation or attentiveness that wasn't sexual? Which had her glance back down and take another bite of the chocolate. It was helping. At least a little bit.

"Oh good. Having our friends aid us in this would be helpful." To a point. They wouldn't know what the research was exactly for. But she felt like they could trust them to be more loyal to the both of them than to Him.

He nodded. It certainly could be helpful. There was always something minute to delegate, or so he remembered from the times he'd had to follow a magical lead through. He'd done wonders separating information into palatable pieces, dividing them into cells to later reassemble the information. It was how he'd kept tabs on her without being everywhere at once. Before that, he'd used his friends to research smaller ventures to piece together more complex thoughts.

Before he could say anything more, a knock resounded on the doors to the study. "Come in," he called, fairly certain it was Nott, either that or something had gone terribly wrong.

Before she could say anything more, that knock had her glance at the door before taking another bite of her chocolate souffle. It was tempting to grab another one. The craving for chocolate wasn't sated with just this but that was fine.

Theo opened the door and had a rather sizeable stack of books that he carried over, walking to a nearby desk and setting them down. "All of the books you requested," he offered with a small smile to Hermione.

"Morning, Theo," she replied with a faint smile and took another bite of her sweet.

"Either of you need anything else?" He offered, glancing between her and Draco, but noticing all of the chocolate, he eyed Hermione a little bit.

"Do you want him to stay?" he asked his wife, ignoring Nott for a while. They'd already exchanged pleasantries earlier; there was no need to do so again. What was more important was the fact that his wife was still angry with him while also reconciling wants and hormonal shifts. He doubted either of them would get off task with the blond around, but then, with how she dressed, part of him wondered if she hadn't planned to torment him some.

"He certainly can. Or he can come back in about half an hour to help. Assuming you're not busy, Theo," she drawled and glanced at him. Studied him. Was his more consistent companion here? No. It was getting late enough that if he were, he would have snuck out by now.

Theo let his gaze bounce between the two of them. They weren't being icy to each other, but there was a bit of tension. "I'll come back in half an hour. Make sure that Lauren is settled and let you both enjoy breakfast. Rather decadent spread this morning..." he trailed off, almost like he might be asking if there was an occasion.

Hermione didn't elaborate and took another bite filled with dark chocolate.

“We’ll see you later,” Draco responded, finally acknowledging his friend. He wasn’t about to deign that statement with an answer. It was no secret that he took care of his wife; decadence, to some, was merely expected of a Malfoy.

Rather than respond, Theo gave a slight dip of his head and turned on his heel to check on the muggle. Whatever was going on between the pair wouldn’t be so easily extracted.

Watching as the other blond left, she chuckled slightly before finishing off the soufflée. It was tempting to grab another one. Later, she'd crave salt and chocolate, but the fact that it hadn't hit yet meant that she was doing alright, for now.

“What’s so amusing?” He asked, returning his attention to his meal, wondering what changed that had his wife in brighter spirits with Nott’s departure.

"How you interact with Theo and Blaise," she said simply before finishing off the juice.

He perked a brow. “And how’s that?” He demanded, unsure what she was implying.

"Dismissive at times and yet not...it's fascinating to watch. Especially when compared to school," she said simply with a light shrug of her shoulders. They were trusted, but not as much as she was by their vows. The startling thing was, she had to trust him more than she trusted Harry too, though. She knew she couldn't tell him anything she wanted to...

Draco knew what she meant but merely shrugged his shoulders. He’d been lenient on Blaise once, and it had straddled them with Luna and a learning curve, to say the least. “He understands the distance I have to put,” he supplied as casually as he could.

She sighed a little wistfully. "I suppose. At least I don't have to be so distant with Luna." Though apparently, she had to be careful how close she let herself get to Theo or Blaise, even in a friend capacity. For their own good. Finishing up the least chocolatey things that had been on her plate, she slowly moved to stand and stretch a little bit, taking the time to roll her shoulders.

If she was honest, she could probably use another massage, but she wasn't about to ask for one.

“It’s unlikely either of you will be sufficiently summoned to warrant as much caution,” he agreed, focusing on his tea. He took his cup and moved to a nearby armchair as she stretched. He’d wait a short while longer before summoning an elf to clean up the makeshift dining arrangements.

She gave him a bit of a look, doubting that after their stunt this morning, before walking back to the couch and picking up one of the books. She took a glass of water with her as well. Hydrating would be important as well if she were about to experience all the joys being a woman had to offer again. It took an effort not to grumble.

Draco had the elves clear the setup, drinking his tea as he studied her demeanor, her features showing the slightest bit of aggravation. She still held that tension in her frame. “So, what do you need my help figuring out?” He asked. She had asked for him specifically. She could have demanded an expert, instead she’d requested him.

A sigh left her lips at that, and she had to try not to fidget. The reason she'd asked for him was because she wanted him around, and now she wasn't sure that's what she wanted. Messing with her potions and causing her to have a bigger problem with emotion regulation. She'd figure it out. She had to, or they were in more trouble than she wanted to think about.

"Research. Piecing together what sorts of figurative speech could be used and how that ties into whatever spell or ritual is being described. There are pieces I don't mind Theo helping with; the man likes picking apart theoretical magic, but more....sensitive pieces that I think will be more pivotal to what He's planning. Didn't want anyone but us dealing with that." The unspoken addition of in case that's what we have to subvert was just a given.

He tried not to smile. It wasn’t like he had some expertise she wanted. Her secret would be safe with him. The fact that she craved his proximity. Sure, the last bit might be accurate, but the rest? Nott could have easily been put to use.

“Then choose what you want to keep away from Theo and what to keep him busy with. Give me whatever you think is most pressing.”

She could feel him watching her and knew that he would absolutely be reading into her original intention. Stop looking at me like that. That was before I knew what you did. Her voice was a grumble, the lightest pink colored her cheeks as she sorted through the books. The translations they got from the pyramid on their honeymoon were the key component. So she flicked her wand, sending him a few of the books with one translation of it that she had.

There had been snippets of translation for a spell or ritual on the other artifacts that she'd let Theo try to figure out further. She put those translations and books on the table neatly before curling up a bit more.

Draco held back a scoff. How many times would they dance this number together? He did something unforgivable; she still ended up accepting it and moving on. Rinse and repeat. “I can deal with you being a brat,” he reminded her, slicking his lips at the memories of other nights.

Taking a first book, he summoned parchment and his quill. He set to work, as if he hadn’t just offered to punish his wife the way she enjoys it.

Looking over at him with narrowed eyes, she scoffed. "I am not being a brat." This was a valid reaction to someone fucking with her body. He'd likely regret it later. Apparently, she might, too, if she kept pushing.

She almost didn't notice when Theo joined them. She was jotting down different ideas and had tied her hair back into a messy bun to keep it out of her face, her wand set in waves of her hair as she worked. Maybe she needed to get new quills...If she was to be writing a lot more again. The work had her engrossed, chewing at her bottom lip and shifting forward to work, leaving anyone who looked over the back of the couch to see the crisscrossing on her back, and she ignored the aches in her body as she poured over the books.

Sometimes you’re my good witch, he reminded without looking away from the page numbers he jotted down that he wanted to look back to. After everything, he knew her body would crave what he offered it. He’d practically trained it to.

Theo cleared his throat, and Draco looked up. “We need a translation on the portions laid out on your stack,” he told him.

The darker blond nodded, the motion bringing his gaze to Hermione’s back. It didn’t exactly surprise him. “Okay,” he agreed, pulling a few supplies from the enlarged coffee table and setting to work on his part.

And sometimes you're not loathsome. She countered even as a shiver went down her spine. Why did she have to enjoy his touch so much? It was like she was a moth drawn to a flame, craving all that he could do to her. All that he would do to her.

When Theo made a sound, she glanced up, blinking a few times. She caught where his gaze landed, and she offered the smallest shrug before looking back at her work. Tapping her fingers against the book, she jotted more down onto the parchment. Piecing it together wouldn't take too long. She was sure she'd get it done before Christmas...but she wanted as much time as she could get them. It would also have her continue her research for alternative outcomes to whatever plan to bring this all to an end there was.

A smile lingered on his lips as he took a moment to read over a paragraph. Is that so? he let his mind trail. He struggled between the desire to punish her and make her crawl and beg to sate that need she had.

Theo did his best to focus on the translation he’d been given. It was simpler than attempting to make sense of whatever silent tension was growing between the couple. He noted their distance, the smile on his friend’s lips, the hint of pink in her cheeks. He assumed it had to do with the marks she displayed, but then the pair were clearly in denial. He held back a smile of his own, opting to bite on his lower lip as he scratched out a word and changed it out.

She tried not to blush at that and focused on her book. Sometimes. Rarely. She almost huffed mentally even as she worked. At the very least, she'd be able to hold out until this soreness went away. Probably. Though her body might make that decision for her if her hormones caught up to her sooner rather than later.

Having another deadline felt odd...but at least they were on the same side of this deadline now.

Draco pressed his lips tighter together to conceal his amusement. She went from scalding rampage to conflicted indignation. As much as he wanted to reply and tease, he kept his lewd thoughts to himself. He had assured his master he could work without being distracted. He was patient, and they had many years ahead of them. Or so he hoped.

Time ticked by. She got more written down for possible translations based on the figurative language used, but none of them made sense in contrast to what she was connecting to the other artifacts, at least from the translations they currently had of them. She ordered tea once, sipping at her cup a few times before she forgot about it as she worked, utterly focused, even when Crookshanks headbutted her side a few times to try and get her attention.

After a few hours of taking notes and feeling as though he were reading the same thing over and over, Theo slipped a black cigarette from his pocket and went to find the nearest balcony.

Draco watched his friend leave for a moment; pausing in his reading, he sat pinching the bridge of his nose. It’d been some time since he’d sat and researched like this. It almost felt foreign with the time it was taking. Had it always been this time-consuming? It was why he had taken Lauren, to do things he couldn’t. He summoned a refresher of tea and ensured a cup was available for Theo when he returned.

Finishing one more note on her piece of parchment, she sat things down on the coffee table before leaning back and almost wincing. Her back was still a little sensitive, and she could feel the aches of her body. She'd need another motion before too long, but she'd wait till she was going to be moving around again.

Pulling her wand from her hair, she let down the tussled locks and let out a slow breath. Her fingers rubbed lightly at her temples. This was part of why she asked for as much time as she did. It wasn't that the task was overly difficult. It was that the task was time consuming and mind numbing at times.

Over his cup, he can’t help but watch how she winced against the couch. He wondered if sitting was equally uncomfortable for her. As much as he claimed she wouldn’t be a distraction, he knew that had been a damn lie.

You look so good when you can’t sit still, he praised through their bond, carefully setting his cup down. It’d be a few minutes before their babysitter returned from his smoke break.

The words crooned into her mind had her shiver, and that blush colored her cheeks a little bit more as she shifted in her seat. It was a little uncomfortable to sit, not exactly painful, but not exactly pleasant. It brought to mind everything he had done to her last night, and she had to take in a slow breath.

I thought you always thought I looked good. She offered through the bond, picking up the refreshed tea and taking a sip as she spared a glance over at him.

He held her stare. “Always,” he agreed, his tone low and husky. There was no denying he appreciated her beauty. Seeing her at the Yule Ball, descending the grand staircase in that periwinkle dress, had certainly left a lasting impression. His desires had greatly changed since. But being the loathsome man I am, his inner discourse was amused. I enjoy knowing I’m the main source of your discomfort.

That low husky tone sent a shiver through her body and had desire heat through her. Damn him. Damn him for making her continue to want him. Clearly her sanity had cracked over the last seven years. Had Luna been just as conflicted about her attraction to Blaise? Before she looked away, his voice caressed through her mind, and she gave a slight roll of her eyes. You've become a literal pain in my arse. The line was there to use, and she felt that if she didn't take the opportunity to use it now, she might lose her nerve.

“Didn’t sound painful to me, but that can be arranged, darling,” he reminded. If she wanted pain, he could certainly make her dreams come true. Part of him wanted to remind her who she was, make her scream that she was his. That in the end, he could do anything he well pleased with her. To her. It was a side to him he was both glad and annoyed when it came to their vows. He could only hurt her as much as she wanted him to. He hadn’t exactly expected her to enjoy the same things he did.

Looking over at him, she lifted a brow as she shifted in her seat. "Considering it isn't exactly pleasant to sit at the moment," she drawled. She didn't want that to hurt. Had been shocked that it had felt so good in the first place. If she didn't want him to hurt her, he couldn't. She had as much control there as he did. She could easily not want him to harm her, and he wouldn't be able to. Perhaps that was a card she could play later when he really wanted to hurt her in bed, make him have to beg her for a change, just to show she wasn't just his.

A bit of a dark chuckle escaped him. “I was thinking of a paddle, but if you have other ideas…” he slicked his lips. Your discomfort is just from it being new. You’ll get used to it, his mind supplied. That ass of hers. He would certainly want it again. He had half a mind of bending her over, and filling her with a plug and watch her squirm until he was ready to enjoy her.

"I do not," she said a little curtly, but her cheeks flushed all the same. Will I? I was pretty drunk on pleasure when you did that. What makes you think I'll agree to it again? Why did he just have to state things like he assumed she would let him do whatever it was he wanted to her body? The fact that it was almost true was irrelevant.

Draco merely laughed. He didn’t bother dignifying that with an answer. Whatever she needed to tell herself. Instead, he picked up a book and shook his head, trying to make sense of the sentence he fell on. It took a few read-throughs. As focused as he’d been on making her flush, he was reaching for his wand to bring forth another text.

The laugh had her glare at him a little before she sipped her tea, mulling over the sentences she was working on. All of it had to make some sort of sense together. What was the literal meaning of all of the figurative language? It felt like trying to translate a poem for a literature class and then trying to figure out what the author had really meant in the first place.

“Come here,” he beckoned her, needing a second opinion. It looked similar to what they had found in the ruins, only it came from the two-headed serpent statue from the museum.

Without having been as involved as she had with the entire project, he wasn’t quite sure what he had stumbled upon, just that it had to have some sort of connection if his memory was to be trusted.

Standing up, she sipped at her tea before setting it down. She could feel an ache as she moved but pushed those feelings aside as she crossed over to him and the armchair, leaning over to glance down at what he was looking at.

"Found something?" Had she missed something by being too engrossed in it?

He pulled her down into his lap and tapped the paragraph he was on. “Right here, we saw this in the pyramid or something like it,” he recalled. “Lauren has been going on about duality, but if I’m reading this right…” he began his train of thought.

She blinked as she was pulled into his lap but settled there against him as she looked over the paragraph, her brow furrowing a little bit more as she read over it. It had knots starting to form in her stomach as she drew the tome closer to them both, rereading it several times. "...Bloody hell..." she murmured. "It's more saying two becoming one or two swapping to become whole..."

“I’ve never heard of anything like this being successful,” he said quietly. “As far as immortality goes, jumping ship or consuming another…” he shrugged. If he were reading this right, he’d probably have to find a sacrifice for it that would suit his master.

Wrapping his arms around her, he pressed against her bare back. Despite himself, he resisted kissing her shoulder. “We’ll have Lauren focus on the logistics; she won’t be tainted by the laws of magic to decipher it; Nott can translate the timeline when it needs to be done." It was easier to compartmentalize everything.

"Neither have I. But Horcruxes hadn't exactly been seen as successful in the amount he had created them in either," she murmured back quietly as she looked over the paragraph, frowning a bit more, her fingers tracing over the words. Was that why he was more obsessed with finding Harry lately? It would certainly allow him to have much more time. Plus, Harry had some of his powers before when he was a Horcrux...

As he wrapped around her and kept himself pressed to her bare back, she almost shivered. "Alright...Timeline would be safer for him to translate rather than the rest of it..." she agreed without question.

Draco nodded. He’d have to go back and report this; a few months ago, he would have already done so. As much as this was a major breakthrough, there was still so much to uncover.

“Am I interrupting something?” Theo asked with amusement, returning to his armchair.

Draco didn’t move to let her go. If anything, he kept her on him. “Just my brilliant wife making good headway,” he drawled. “I need you to drop that translation. You’ll focus on the temporal aspect of the items. Lauren can help you get situated.” The muggle had spent most of her academic career researching the various structures around the globe and their measure of celestial occurrences. “She’ll be busy working on a different project once you’ve started.”

As Theo returned, Hermione glanced up from the book and almost blushed, though the compliment from Draco also had her glance back at him for a moment. Brilliant. Well, she wouldn't pick that apart too much. Looking back at Theo, she shook her head before she chuckled. "Lauren could use the break from the timeline of it all. And I think you'll be better suited to it," she agreed without too much issue.

While the blond wanted to question it, he simply nodded before he put the notes he had together, placing them on the table next to the rest of Hermione's research. "Alright. Should I go tell her now? I think she was planning on eating lunch near the garden. Apparently, she still can't believe you have four peacocks," he said simply with a small touch of amusement. Muggles were fascinated by the strangest things sometimes.

Draco watched his friend. “She can probably use the company,” he shrugged. “Go,” he added dismissively. Lauren was going a little stir-crazy. It was probably best to have her with Theo. He wouldn’t hurt her, not the way any other of his men would.

Theo had things he wanted to do but knew better than to counter his friend. “I could use some lunch,” he agreed. Maybe he’d get some of those chocolate cakes from the kitchen. “I’ll send a note if we uncover anything,” he concluded and left the room. It was best to leave the couple to their own devices.

"Tell her I say hello," she said casually enough with a faint smile to Theo. There was that bit of hesitation; it had her wondering what else Theo would be up to. He hadn't convinced his companion to stay, had he? That would be problematic for so many different reasons.

It took a concentrated effort to not just relax completely against Draco. His body was so familiar to her at this point that she could probably trace over all of his scars through his clothing from memory alone. Trying to stay focused on the task at hand, she looked over the book, picking up his notes to read over them.

Once the door closed, Draco took a moment to breathe. It wasn’t helping. “So we’re pretty sure this is what it all means?” He asked gently. Part of him hoped he was wrong. “Once I tell Him…” he paused. He might want the timeline shortened. They had until Halloween for a strong foundation, but this… this was something his master would want to know as soon as possible.”

Hermione ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it out of her face as she looked over the book and his notes, chewing at her bottom lip gently. "It seems likely....but I'd want to check the translations on a few of the other artifacts, just to be certain...Wouldn't want to give him inaccurate information on the first idea we have. That would make him rather vexed, wouldn't it?"

She knew she was grasping at straws, but she didn't want to give him this information. Not yet.

Knowing this, he planned to delay as much as possible. To give them a head start because as terrifying as the idea was, it also presented an opportunity. He could tamper with whatever poor soul his master wanted. There had to be magical caveats. Something to be turned into a tragedy.

“A week should do…” he agreed. They couldn’t bring the theory without the proper evidence. It was a complex ritual, it wouldn’t be so well guarded or needing so many walls of glyphs to transcribe if it weren’t right?

She let out a slow breath and then glanced back at him. "....A little longer if we are to leave for my birthday, Draco." She reminded lightly, half expecting him not to want to know that they had this. But there were plans in place, and they had some time. A little bit of time. Dear Merlin, she hoped that they could figure out who he wanted to do this with.

“Then after,” he nodded. At least he knew she still wanted to be alone with him, even if he was as loathsome as she claimed him to be. Part of him wondered if deep down she enjoyed it, knowing she was his, that he had control. As much as their vows equalized certain aspects, society in its current form certainly didn’t.

"Glad to know research won't cancel my birthday." Her birthday had been canceled so many times for jobs, for her friends being scattered, to her losing track of days in a safe house for her 'punishments'. They had a few days before they'd leave for that, and she had to hope that things didn't catch up with her right before. Dealing with her body's natural paces for her birthday was not how she wanted to celebrate.

Settling his hands on her hips, he leaned in to kiss the base of her neck. “Short of a hostage situation, I have no plans of delaying celebrating you,” he murmured behind her ear. And even then, it would depend on the hostage. She was his, and what mattered to her mattered to him, even if he didn’t often speak such sweet things in the open. They’d just have to keep some impending discoveries for their return. Something that could warrant having waited.

The light kiss had her shiver, and her body started to habitually relax back against him. His touch was so familiar at this point that it was almost instinctual to want to relax into him. Damn him. She felt things for him that just weren't lust, and part of her hated herself for it. It was to be expected, wasn't it? He was the first person in a long time to show interest in her as a person rather than just a tool even if he wanted her because she could help him accomplish his goals. "Well, thank you....been a while since that's happened..."

It just meant he had more people to make suffer, and that he could do. The pad of his index trailed a line across her shoulder. He had promised she’d want for nothing, and though he hadn’t exactly imagined fulfilling her in a more intimate manner, he would just cop it out to his thoroughness. He gave everything his utmost attention; it explained his behavior, didn’t it? Would she believe as much?

The light touch across her shoulders had her shiver lightly, relaxing further into his hands with a soft sigh as she let her eyes close a moment. The trip alone was a fantastic gift, and she honestly didn't expect anything else. It had been some time since he'd gifted her anything other than getting to torment those who wronged her, which was enough for her.

Every time she relaxed into him, he could forget just how angry she’d been. Despite it, he knew he’d pushed her further than before the night before. As much as he wanted to let her rest and give her potions, there was a part of him that wanted to push her further. Instead, he swallowed down. “I should reward you…” he said instead, leaving the statement open. After all, she had taken his find and turned it into something more tangible.

She hummed softly and opened her eyes, glancing back over her shoulder at him with a slightly raised brow. "Two rewards?" She asked with a hint of a smile. He did say he should reward her for how well she 'behaved' at that summons to the Dark Lord after all. But what could he possibly reward her with this time?

“If you rather punishment, I can happily do so…” he smirked, holding her chin to keep her gaze on his. “What would you like?” He asked, eying her lips. Somehow, he doubted she would be craving anything like the night before. Still, he could listen to what it was she desired. Perhaps even grant her her wishes.

"I'm sure you'll find some reason to punish me at some point. Why give you the excuse now?" She drawled with an arched brow, but she kept her gaze on his and contemplated for a moment. What would she like? It took a little bit of mulling over, her teeth worrying at her bottom lip as she thought.

Shifting in his lap so she was half facing him, she settled the book down into her lap. "....Two things," she tested before getting into it. "The first...a girl's day tomorrow. I haven't actually been shopping for myself in a while, too occupied with this, but since it will be in your capable hands," she shrugged with a hint of a grin, clearly going to use him as a way to help her shift focus. Relinquishing control of her research to him momentarily.

"And when I no longer ache," she began, looking over his features. "I want an evening where I'm in control," she drawled. Almost challenging that he wouldn't agree to that one.

At the second request, he smirked. “Is that so?” He perked a brow. “I think I might have to hear more about this little fantasy of yours…” he bit his lower lip, wondering just what his little lioness had in mind.

Leaning into his touch, she sighed softly at that light brush of his knuckles to her cheek. That was nice. This was nice. "Thank you. I'll either need a key to the vault or for you to give me the galleons then, darling." She hadn't been back to Gringotts since she got that necklace and the placeholder ring before their official engagement.

"It is. I doubt you'd be able to resist taking control, so you'd likely have to have your wrists tied to the bed...sort of like when you weren't able to take control due to your injury...I'll tease, I'll taunt, and I might even try to make you beg...but I won't strike you. Unless you'd like me to," she said with a faint smirk as she batted her lashes at him, as if she wasn't describing how she'd like to take him.

A chuckle left his lips as her final statement. Even if she wanted to, she could only hurt him as much as he allowed her to. Leaning in, he let his lips nearly brush her ear. “I’ll be highly disappointed if you don’t straddle my face and demand to come all over it,” he breathed. It wasn’t a full on agreement but he wasn’t denying her either.

“I’ll give you your key tonight,” he promised, enjoying how she drew closer. He had had a key made but somehow had never actually handed it to her. He supposed he had feared she’d try to escape somehow, and though she certainly was still unpredictable, he couldn’t deny her the request.

The feeling of his warm breath at her ear had her shiver, and she had to fight the urge to kiss him or tilt her neck to allow him better access to her. "Will you? I'll remember that. You do so enjoy eating me alive," she drawled, watching him with a spark of desire in her eyes. Damn him. Damn their chemistry. Damn her for helping feed into it.

"Thank you. I was starting to think you wouldn't give me one," she half-teased, not moving away. They could get along. She could stop yelling at him. What he did made sense, to a point, and at least now no one would blame her. Though they might blame him, and she wasn't sure what that would even look like.

He wasn’t about to tell her he didn’t have to, that she was entitled to one. He liked that she asked. More than liked. It did things he hadn’t quite factored in when he’d asked her to marry him. No, he focused on the part of the conversation that did hold his interest, how his lioness wanted to have her way with him.

“You taste sweeter than honey,” he nipped her jaw, a hand trailing from her throat down between her breasts and across her abdomen, pausing a little under her navel.

The words sent heat rolling through her. Of course, the witch that was so involved with words, reading, writing, research, and language would find him talking about what he liked or what he planned to do so enjoyable. The nip had her shiver, and her breath hitched as his hand trailed down her throat and between her breasts.

"Sounds like I'd be doing you a favor sitting on your face if you find me so enjoyable," she murmured, her gaze dropping to his mouth a moment.

Draco smiled against her shoulder. "Do you not enjoy everything I do to you?" he asked, nipping along the side of her neck. "As much as I like using you, I love how wet you get from it," he reminded, ensuring everywhere he touched her wasn't between her thighs. Her pleasure was as critical as his own. Even when he had his cock down her throat, she was wet for him, her tears and moans as intoxicating as knowing she enjoyed it, that it made her yearn for more. It was such a fine line to toe, and fuck he enjoyed pushing the boundaries.

The nips had her gasp softly, and she shivered, pressing a little closer to her husband. "...Of course I do. You're incredibly attentive..." she murmured, trying not to simply make it about him using her. But she enjoyed it. Perhaps it was because someone had been using her, in a much less enjoyable sense, for years. Never praised for it, never truly rewarded for it in any way that mattered. Him using her was different. If she didn't enjoy it, she liked to think that he wouldn't. Consent was such a key thing for him that she knew if she didn't like being used this way...he'd back off.

"I would hope so...you always make sure that I'm able to give consent before doing anything," she murmured. Far too many wizards had seemed to have no problem with her being drunk. Like Oliver. The satisfaction of being able to kill him lingered, but there were times she wished she had drawn it out more.

"When you're no longer sore, we'll see how you're feeling," he kissed and nipped along her jaw. Control was something he enjoyed, something he thrived on. Despite this, it was also something he shared with his wife since their vows. "There's only one way to know if I've taught you well..." he surmised, his cheek brushing against hers. If anything, he was curious. Curious as to what she wanted from him.

"Thank you." She had expected a no. Had expected some sort of fight. He controlled nearly every aspect of the manor, even if he gave her free reign to change anything. In public, he was in control of their dynamic due to what was expected, and in the bedroom, she often relinquished control to him. Never was she unsatisfied in bed. She was sure he would take that as a personal failing if she were, but she had expected more of a fight. Shivering under the kisses and the nips, she let out a soft sigh, almost nuzzling her cheek into his at that proximity. "I doubt I'll go nearly as far as you do..."

Part of him wanted to tell her she should make sure to time him down properly if she wanted to keep control, but he didn't. Not when he hoped she didn't so he could take over. As much as he'd let her have a few hours, he would gladly take it back if it came to it.

"All in due time, darling," he assured. It had taken him years to realize how depraved he was, and she...fuck she was perfect for everything he enjoyed.

She wasn't nearly as dominant as him. All of her dominant traits had more to do with problem-solving and taking charge of research and ideas. Sexually, she doubted she would ever take things as far as he did if she was in control. But she supposed that could change. There were already things that she would have never agreed to before that she'd done with him..."I suppose."

He enjoyed the way that she said those two words. It told him more than she likely wanted to share. Even tied to a bed, he could probably bend her to his will, but he kept that thought to himself. "Our chaperone is gone," he reminded. "I should probably give you some potions, but I also do so enjoy watching you squirm," he reminded against her ear in an underetone.

"Our chaperone is gone...but even with potions, I'm not letting you make me more sore if I'm to go shopping with Pansy and Daphne tomorrow...Suppose I should send them an owl," she murmured, even as his words made her think of other ways he'd made her squirm. Into his mouth, against the bed as he paddled her. She had to close her eyes a moment and take in a deep breath, keep herself grounded.

"You should before I test your resolve," he offered cheekily. Knowing she would be with the girls made him want to wreck her even more.

"Well if that's the case," she drawled before she nipped at his neck, dragging her teeth lightly over his jaw before swiftly getting out of his lap and moving over to the desk to get parchment for the owl's message.