“Hermione…” someone called softly, a fingertip sliding down the bridge of her nose. “Wake up…”

Hermione groaned, every inch of her body sore as she flinched away from the gentle touch on her face. She yawned widely before blearily blinking her eyes open.

“Morning sleepyhead,” Daphne said with a smile, her blonde hair fanned out on the pillow.

“I swear, Granger, you snore louder than a kneazle with a head cold,” Pansy muttered on the other side of her.

Hermione rubbed her eyes, looking back and forth between the two girls snuggled up on either side of her.

“What… what are you doing here?” she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

Through the gauzy curtains she could just see the beginnings of a grey dawn coming. Her left arm felt sore and almost sunburned, the rest of her body as if she’d been hit by the Knight Bus.

“All the boys are recovering together,” Daphne said, brushing Hermione’s curls from her face. “So we thought we’d come help you.”

“And your definition of help is waking me up?” Hermione asked, leaning into Daphne’s touch when she started running her nails over her scalp.

“Mhmmm,” Pansy replied, tugging Hermione’s left arm out from the covers gently.

Her cool fingertips smoothed around the Dark Mark, the skin looking raw and angry.

“Can you not put a healing charm on it?” Daphne asked, her blue eyes clouding with concern.

Hermione shook her head slightly, not wanting to dislodge the girl’s hand.

“Lucius said it won’t work – it has to heal on its own,” she replied.

“Fimsy,” Pansy said quietly and the house elf popped into existence at the foot of the bed.

“Yes Miss?” the small elf said in her squeaky voice.

“Would you please bring Hermione a rag with a cooling charm on it?” Pansy asked, her hand smoothing out Hermione’s fingertips that still tremored from last night’s dark magic.

“Oh yes, of course. Fimsy is honored to help the Young Mistress heal!” Fimsy cried, and disappeared with a pop .

All three girls blinked in confusion for a moment.

“ Mistress ?” Pansy asked, her voice sliding up an octave.

“ Mistress?! ” Daphne echoed.

“Did you and Draco get married and not tell us?!” Pansy screeched, grabbing a pillow to lob at Hermione’s head, that was neatly blocked by Daphne who would have also received a face full.

“What? No! ” Hermione cried.

Fimsy reappeared with another small pop causing the girls to look back at her in anticipation. The tiny elf waddled to the side of the bed, handing the charmed rag to Daphne who passed it to Pansy, who then placed it on Hermione’s arm. Then the tiny elf clicked her fingers and a large breakfast tray filled with a pot of tea, three cups, and some scones appeared.

“Thank you, Fimsy,” Hermione said appreciatively and the elf bowed low.

“Fimsy…” Pansy started in what she obviously thought was a casual air. “Why did you call Hermione ‘ Young Mistress’ ?”

The house elf poured the tea with a tiny wave of her hand, smiling.

“Fimsy sees the familial bond between Master Lucius and Young Mistress Hermione, as well as the soul bond between Young Master Draco and Young Mistress,” she said in a matter-of-fact voice.

Hermione wasn’t surprised by the familial bond, given the ritual the night before. She’d felt that warm, homey magic running through her veins when Lucius’ blood combined with hers. However, she was surprised at the soul bond comment.

“Soul bond?” she asked. “What does that mean?”

Fimsy began to wring her tiny hands together in worry.

“Fimsy apologizes, Young Mistress, if she overstepped…”

“Of course you didn’t Fimsy! Pansy asked a question I was wondering as well. Would you be so kind as to explain what a soul bond is?”

The elf nodded, her large bat ears bobbing as she did so. Hermione patted a space on the bed and after a moment’s hesitation, Fimsy pulled herself up and took a seat.

“Young Master Draco and Young Mistress Hermione’s magic is compatible. Fimsy is seeing it from the first time she met the Young Mistress. Now that Young Master and Mistress have… um…” Fimsy’s eyes grew wide as Hermione’s did the same.

“Have what Fimsy?” Daphne asked innocently while Pansy’s face split into a wide grin.

“ HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER!” Pansy squealed.

Trying to maintain her dignity Hermione cut across them both.

“Are you saying that now the bond has been set in place?”

The elf nodded quickly, a bright pink blush on her round cheeks.

“Yes, Young Mistress, through the familial bond you is a part of House Malfoy and one of Fimsy’s masters. The soul bond is being invoked, but Master Draco and Mistress Hermione’s magic is not being bound yet and therefore the bond is not sealed,” the elf said brightly.

Hermione felt a surge of discomfort at those words. She didn’t want to be anyone’s Mistress, let alone a house elf. But she had to admit that all she’d seen of the Malfoys pointed to a general kindness when it came to house elves – Dobby obviously excluded from that fact for whatever reason.

“But what did you do to invoke the bond?” Daphne asked, her blue eyes wide in confusion.

“Thank you, Fimsy,” Hermione said quickly before the elf could answer. “That will be all.”

Fimsy slid from the bed and gave the three girls a small bow.

“Please let Fimsy know if you is needing anything else, Young Mistress.” Then she disappeared with a pop .

The moment the elf vanished, the two girls turned to Hermione. Daphne still with confusion and Pansy with a wide, evil looking grin.

“Okay, Granger, spill it ,” Pansy said.

Hermione tried to school her expression into one of innocence.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Pans.” She paused, trying to think of a way to change the subject. “How are things with you and Luna?”

Pansy rolled her eyes, then smacked Hermione with a pillow.

“You have the subtlety of a mountain troll, Hermione,” she complained. “By the way, yes Luna and I are… whatever we are. She’s a complete weirdo but I think she might be my weirdo. However …” Pansy stressed the word, her eyes flashing. “I’d like to get us back to how the bloody hell you and Draco invoked your soul bond!”

Hermione slid lower in the bed, trying to cover her head with the bed linens while Pansy simultaneously grabbed her left arm. Hermione hissed in pain and Pansy immediately released her with an apologetic look.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” Pansy started saying quickly, adjusting the charmed cloth over the Dark Mark.

“It’s alright,” Hermione said, adjusting herself in the bed.

“Will someone please tell me what is going on?” Daphne said, still in the dark.

Pansy smirked while raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow at Hermione.

“Draco and I,” Hermione started, taking a deep breath. “We… um…” She looked pleadingly at Pansy.

“I believe what our dear Gryffindor Princess is trying to say is that she and Draco are no longer virgins.”

Daphne’s eyes popped wide, her fingertips covering her mouth.

“ Godric! ” she cried. “You have to tell us everything , Hermione. Start from the beginning.”

She frowned. The beginning, truthfully, was not particularly romantic as it had involved the Dark Lord forcing her to use the cruciatus curse on Dolohov. But she skipped over that fact, merely stating the Dark Lord had forced her to use dark magic, describing with as little detail as possible the way she’d felt, her need for him, and then the magic that had occurred around them at the end. Both girls looked awed as she spoke, the blush turning her cheeks crimson.

Once the girls had exhausted their questions they began to tuck in to the tea and scones, Daphne having to encourage Hermione to eat more than a few bites on account of her tender stomach.

Finally they fell into a relaxed silence, Hermione’s head in Daphne’s lap while Pansy wrapped her arms around both girls and rested her head on Hermione’s shoulder. Eventually Theo wandered in alone, clutching his left arm protectively to his chest and climbing onto the bed, letting his head hang over the edge.

“No cake, I couldn’t believe it,” he groaned before Pansy duplicated Hermione’s charmed rag and passed one to him.

Hermione chuckled, reaching forward to pat his chest.

“Yes, I would not describe that as a cake walk,” Hermione quipped while Theo’s eyebrows raised.

“Is that a muggle thing? Walking with cakes?” Theo asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes with a laugh, laying her head down once more on Daphne’s lap.

“I’ll explain later, Theo,” she said tiredly.

The four fell into a contented silence, interrupted only by the gentle sounds of Theo snoring.

“I can’t believe you still have this,” Daphne said after a while, reaching with her free hand to grab the framed painting of the Malfoy rose garden she’d given Hermione for her fifteenth birthday.

“Of course I do!” Hermione replied when she saw what the girl was holding. “It’s beautiful.”

Daphne’s hand continued to pull through Hermione’s curls while she passed the frame to Pansy who looked at it for a long moment before handing it back.

Hermione couldn’t help but think back to when she’d received it and the question she’d had. It was so obvious how everyone else was represented in the drawing – Draco was the silver trellis with his confidence and surety, the winding green stems was Blaise with his ability to adapt and overcome, Pansy was the thorns, protective of those she loved and sharp to outsiders, Daphne was the beautiful blooms that brought beauty and peace to the group, and Theo was the sun with his positive outlook that brought them humor at even the darkest of times.

“Can I ask… what I am? You never said in your letter…”

Daphne’s hand stilled on her hair and she passed Hermione the painting.

“Can’t you see?” Daphne asked sweetly, her fingertip drawing across the gilded metal. “You’re the frame – you are what holds us all together. ”