CHAPTER FOUR:

It had been easy enough to persuade Peter and Charlotte to make the Unbreakable Vow– seeing as their only alternative was death, they hadn't given much (or any) protest. Now if they ever killed a human again, they would die– even if it was an accident. Sure, maybe that was a touch on the ruthless side, but considering the number of humans they'd had to have killed to feed over the hundred plus years they'd been alive, I didn't have any sympathy left for them. Practically the opposite, in fact.

But then Alice had mentioned that Carlisle had friends too, other vampires that fed from humans and that he would be eager to discuss making similar arrangements with them, Unbreakable Vows in trade for their lives. And the thought of arranging that had me... reluctant.

"I don't want to," I admitted aloud, needing to tell someone. Edward and I were in my bedroom– I'd left the mansion after Luna and I had cast the Vow binding the two vampires, not wanting to stay around Peter and Charlotte any longer then I had to, not with the amount of loathing and disgust I felt toward them both.

Edward, sitting next to me on my bed beside me, looked understandably confused by my seemingly random statement.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to." Was his first response to my confession, though, because of course it was, and the warm rush of gratitude I felt toward him made me momentarily breathless.

"Sweet Circe, I love you," I said, wrapping my arms around him tight. His arms came up to crush me gently to his chest, and his cold lips brushed against my forehead.

"What is it you don't want to do, love?" He murmured, and I bit my lip.

"I don't want to save them. Carlisle's... well, his friends," I said, and it was a shameful admittance but it was the truth, and I quickly rushed to explain myself. "I just– I know that an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, but they chose to feed on humans; they knew they didn't have to, but they did. And now... now they're the human in the equation, and I'm the vampire, and I want them to be just as helpless as their prey." I shook my head and let out a short, bitter laugh. "They never showed any mercy, so why should I?"

I looked down at my hands as Edward stayed quiet for a long moment, before finally speaking up, using a hand to tilt my chin up so I was looking him in the eye. "You've seen terrible things in your life, and terrible things have happened to and around you," he said, softly. "It's only natural that it's made you more jaded then you once were."

"Well, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?" I sighed, my shoulders slumping forward. Edward frowned.

"That's not true. Not always. Trauma that doesn't kill you can be devastating to a person's physical, mental and emotional wellbeing. It can erode happiness, the ability to trust, self-confidence and the willingness to love... it can make a person jaded, self-destructive, apathetic and devaluate either themselves or others, and I'm not sure which of those is worse."

"So basically I'm destined to become a vengeful, frightened, dangerous shell of a being," I said, only half joking.

"Never," Edward responded fiercely, pulling me tight against him again. "What I'm saying is that you can't expect yourself to be the same person you were before these past couple of years happened."

"Before I would have wanted to save as many lives as I could," I said. "But now... now I'm just so bloody tired of it and I want them to all burn because it's what they deserve for what they've done, and the last thing I feel like doing right now is to figure out some way to ask the Ministry not to kill certain vampires and then figure out how the Ministry is even supposed to identify which ones to, you know, not kill, and for Merlin's sake I just don't want to get involved at all in this bloody mess– pun not intended!"

"You don't have to be further involved, Bella," Edward said, gently, running a cool hand up and down my spine soothingly. "You're one hundred percent correct that this is not your job. There must be others who can sort through this mess– Hermione, for example; surely dealing with vampires has to be less complicated then dealing with centaurs." I let out a surprised laugh, again pulling back slightly so I could look him in the eye.

"I... I hadn't really thought of that." I confessed, latching eagerly onto the idea, though a sudden thought distracted me. "Wait, where did you even hear about the centaur issue?"

"Jacob was thinking about it, earlier," Edward explained, his lips curving up slightly, before his expression turned oh-so very earnest again. "Let's talk to Hermione," he urged. "We can explain the situation to her then hand over the reins, so by this time tomorrow all we have to worry about is us, and our wedding."

"And our honeymoon," I added, with a slight grin. "Don't forget the honeymoon."

"Oh, believe me, Bella," Edward murmured, his eyes suddenly a brilliant, burning gold. "I haven't." I shivered, a thrill of anticipation licking down my spine.

"Feel like getting in some practice?" I asked, my voice annoyingly breathy. Edward just growled in response, then his lips pressed to mine and I forgot about how the survival of all of Carlisle's vampire friends was currently resting on my shoulders and instead focused on being young, in love and horny. Very horny.

-

"Alright," Hermione said, once I'd outlined the situation to her, as well as a vague plan. "This isn't going to be easy." Despite her words, she was smiling and there was a gleam in her eyes that I found very promising– remembering what she said earlier about being bored at Hogwarts, I wasn't sure why I'd been so uncertain about contacting her about this; clearly, she was dying for a challenge.

We, and by 'we' I meant her, Luna, Draco, Edward and I, were sitting down at my dining room table, Hermione having conjured up two extra chairs. The bushy-haired witch was now tapping her bottom lip thoughtfully with a finger, and I could practically see the speed in which her mind was making and discarding various plans.

"The Unbreakable Vow is definitely the best way to go about it," she said, finally. "The European ministries have set up a joint task-force to go about hunting down and dismantling vampire covens, as well as starting compromises with other ministries in the International Confederation of Wizards to get permission to hunt down the vampires in their jurisdictions and we haven't had any issues with that so far– nobody likes vampires." She gave Edward an apologetic look as she said that. "We'd have to come up with a way to get the vampires willing to make the Vow to turn 'vegetarian' to contact the task-force, though before that we'd need to actually convince the different governments to spare any vampires who Vow to stop drinking human blood. This is... this is going to take a lot of convincing." She admitted. "It would be different if it was just the British Ministry, I have enough influence there, but as well as the governments who have given permission for the task-force to operate within their boundaries, there are currently five different ministries directly involved in the task-force and I happen to know there are negotiations in place for one of the West Asian ministries to join as the sixth, beginning the process of turning the Europe-wide vampire cull to world-wide."

I winced, most of my hope for an easy-fix to this whole situation gone. "I'm going to need to learn more about international magical politics before making a case," Hermione decided, her mouth setting in a determined line. "Actually, I'm going to need formal training in politics in general." Draco cleared his throat.

"My– my mother, she– she's a lot smarter then people think." He said, his ears turning pink as we all turned to look at him. "She got ten OWLS at Hogwarts, but she chose not to focus on academics. Instead, she became the perfect society wife and so many people thought that was a waste, but what they don't see is the art form she's made it into. She observes, listens, calculates and stalks information and people, all while hiding behind her perfect, polished act. She taught me how to move, how to listen, how to smile, what body language to use and when. What to say, who to say it to, when to say it, and so, so much more. If you want training in how to act like a politician and use words to get what you want from someone who isn't an old wrinkly crone from the Wizengamot or Longbottom's grandmother, then she's the one you should go to."

"And do you think she'll actually consider teaching me?" Hermione arched an eyebrow. She didn't add 'a muggleborn', but it was heavily implied. Draco's cheeks pinked.

"I don't know," he said, honestly, "but she must be very bored in prison, maybe bored enough to consider it."

"Well," Hermione said, thoughtfully, "it's worth a shot, I suppose." She then laughed suddenly and, seeing our looks, she shrugged, a smile playing on her face. "This just reminded me, Scrimgeour once asked if I was planning to follow a career in Magical Law." She said. "I told him I wasn't because I was hoping to do some good in the world."

"Oh his face," I said, gleefully, thinking back to our very brief Minister of Magic after Fudge was sacked; Rufus Scrimgeour had looked like an old lion with his yellowish eyes, streaks of grey in his mane of tawny hair and bushy eyebrows, and immediate impression of shrewdness and toughness. The thought of the stupefied expression he must have worn...

"I know he probably did his best," Hermione admitted, "but the Ministry was already falling, and he chose to focus on investigating the gifts Dumbledore left Harry, Ron and I in his Will, rather then building up the Auror force, preparing the public the best he could and protecting the more vulnerable members of our society, like those poor first year muggleborns."

I cringed at that, thinking about those excited eleven-year-olds who'd just learned magic was real finding themselves thrust into a hellish nightmare when the Death Eaters started rounding them up, along with all other muggleborns, to either kill or imprison them. Not that imprisonment was any better a fate then immediate execution– no child could survive the black, sucking vortex of misery and despair that was Azkaban.

"And," Hermione added through a stiff jaw, her eyes like chips of ice as her hands clenched into fists. "Maybe I wouldn't have been tortured."

Draco's whole body flinched, his face turning white as he hunched over, and Luna reached over to clasp his clenched hands in hers. The hard line of Hermione's jaw softened slightly as she turned in her seat to face him. "Dumbledore left the sword Bellatrix was torturing me wanting information about to Harry in his Will," she said, quietly, and I could see the dawning understanding on his face. My face felt frozen, like all the blood had drained from it. I knew vaguely what she was talking about– she'd been tortured at Malfoy Manor, before Harry and Ron had rescued her, freeing Luna in the process– but I hadn't known it was Bellatrix who had tortured her. "Scrimgeour, though, he refused to hand it over. If he had, then maybe," she shook her head and the laugh that escaped her was rather bitter sounding, but the set of her jaw was determined. "Well, there's no point worrying about 'ifs' or 'maybes'," she said, resolutely. "And perhaps it worked out for the best, anyway. Without our encounter with Bellatrix, we may never have known we had to break into Gringotts."

"I still can't believe you actually broke into freaking Gringotts," I said. Glancing over at a very under-whelmed Edward, I tried to explain, "Gringotts is– it's impossible to break into. Nobody ever has. Well, nobody ever had, not for thousands of years, until Hermione, Ron and Harry did. And they flew out on a bloody dragon!" Hermione's face twisted into a scowl and I could see the sudden angered flush on her cheeks.

"It was horrible!" she said, fiercely. "The conditions they kept the dragons in– absolutely frightful! The poor things were burned, whipped, blinded and chained underground, and for who knows how many decades– or centuries, even! Charlie– Ron's brother– managed to catch the dragon we released after the battle, a Ukrainian Ironbelly, and took it back to a shelter in Romania. He told us later that she's over three hundred years, but her growth is severely stunted from malnutrition and vitamin D deficiency."

"When you say dragons," Edward interrupted, his face fascinated, "are you talking about large lizard-like creatures with wings that can fly and breathe fire?"

"Oh yes," Hermione said, with a smile. "They're rather amazing creatures, but also incredibly dangerous– their eggs are Class A Non-Tradable Goods, and the muggle Prime Minister must be notified when they're imported into England."

"Wait, so how did Gringotts get their hands on a dragon then?" I asked, frowning.

"I don't know," Hermione said, grimly, "but I'm going to find out. And then I'm going to bring them down." She stood then, brushing down the sides of her immaculate business-suit style dress she must have changed into for her meeting with the Minister. "The vampire situation will have to come first, though." She said. "I already have a pass for Azkaban, and I don't think I'll need to owl ahead. I can't imagine she has any visitors."

"Can you tell her I miss her," Draco said, suddenly. His expression was very awkward as we all looked over at him, but it was also very genuine. "I– I wrote to explain why I can't visit, but... do you think you could tell her too, about my banishment from Britain?"

"I," Hermione looked a little awkward too as she turned to face Draco. "I will." She said. His small but very relieved smile but something twinge uncomfortably in my chest.

"Thank you, Granger." He said, and Hermione sighed.

"You may as well call me Hermione. I have a feeling we'll be seeing a lot more of each other then we ever thought we would." Draco laughed slightly at that.

"Okay. And please call me Draco."

I glanced over at Luna, who was, predictably, beaming at them both. I bit back an audible sigh. I was trying to get over my issues with Draco, I really was, but years of resentment don't go away quickly. I've spent these last few months getting to know him better, but I still have too many memories of the way he treated not just Luna and I, but so many other of my peers at Hogwarts, for being 'blood-traitors' and 'halfbloods' and Hufflepuffs and, of course, mudbloods.

But he was trying, so I was too.

-

When Hermione left, a check outside the window showed it was pouring with rain. I'd be worried about the fact my wedding was only two days away and the weather was absolutely miserable if I didn't know that Alice had done all the planning– the weather would be perfect for my special day.

For now, however, it was good staying inside weather, and that was how Alice strode briskly in on Edward, Luna, Draco and I buried under a pile of blankets with a bowl of popcorn. "Buffy the Vampire Slayer?" she asked as she looked over at the screen, her voice long-suffering. I threw a piece of popcorn at her which she caught neatly with her teeth before flicking it back over to hit me on the head, winking at me when I scowled.

"What are you doing here?" I grumbled. Her perfect, pretty smile widened.

"It's time for the final fittings." She said, sounding far too pleased about it. "Charlie will be home in seven and a half minutes."

"Oh great." I winced. Her eyes narrowed, before flicking over to Edward. "Right, you'll have to leave." She said, briskly. "Can't have you getting a peek." Edward, knowing better then to disobey Alice when she was this intense, stood up, carefully rearranging the blankets as he did so, so that they didn't slide off me.

"I'll see you soon," he promised, leaning over to kiss my cheek. I turned my head so I could catch him in a proper kiss and relaxed into the sensation of my lips moving lazily against his until Alice cleared her throat loudly and we had to break apart.

"Do you mind apparating me back to the mansion?" Edward asked Draco politely. Draco nodded, sliding out from under the blankets and standing up too.

"Of course," he said, offering a hesitant smile. My lips tightened into a thin line and I had to turn away, not wanting Draco to see the expression. Because damn it, I was trying!

Alice, the only one who did notice my expression, took it in an entirely different way. "You'd think I was going to shove bamboo splinters up your nails," she complained, "come on, up, up, up– it's not going to take long."

Giving Edward a last mournful look– he pressed his lips together, looking like he was trying not to laugh, the utter bastard– I reluctantly followed Alice up to my bedroom. She'd obviously been here longer then I thought because my wedding dress, still in the protective bag, was draped over the bed.

I shut my eyes before I stripped down to my underwear and held my arms out straight– the last thing I felt like now was getting a complex about how I looked, about all my scars– but when the slip and slide of satin over my skin was done, I opened them to exam my reflection in the full-length mirror inside the wardrobe.

The bridal gown was stunning, of course. It was ivory-colored with an old-fashioned design; long laced sleeves, delicate floral accents and intricate beading. Fitted through the hips then flaring down to the floor, the tulle skirts rustled as I walked and twirled and flared as Alice instructed me to spin. "Perfect." She said, sounding oh-so very satisfied. I very carefully didn't laugh at her cat-got-the-cream look, turning back to give the mirror an appraising look. Through it, I saw Alice tilt her head suddenly. "Hermione will be here in ten minutes." She informed me. "Charlie needs his fitting, though, so you'll have to take her to go talk at the mansion."

"Aye, aye, cap'n," I agreed. Once the gown was back in the bag, I picked up my wand to cast a quick tempus– it had been nearly three hours since Hermione had left. I made my way down the stairs again. Draco was back from apparating Edward to the mansion and I rejoined him and Luna on the couch until Hermione arrived.

She was looking windswept and cold, but she didn't look unhappy or upset, which had to be a good sign. Hopefully.

Remembering Alice's request, I hastily stood up and explained. It only took a minute for us all to go from my tiny lounge-room to the miles long dining-table at the Cullen's mansion, where I knew they held family meetings.

"Is mother okay?" Draco asked, anxiously, as Hermione cast a warming charm on her hands.

"She's fine, Malf- Draco." Hermione assured him. "Do you know she insulted my blood heritage three times in the first five minutes without actually mentioning the words 'mudblood', 'blood', 'heritage' or 'muggle'? It was so subtle I didn't even realize she was doing it at first."

"Mother has refined the art of the subtle insult to perfection over the years," Draco said with a note of pride in his voice. "She can insult a person's lineage, personality, family, house and wardrobe while politely offering them a cup of tea. Other pureblood families used to send their daughters to her for lessons in etiquette."

"And just when I thought purebloods couldn't get even more messed up," I said, though I couldn't help being a little fascinated by this insight into the bizarre workings of the pureblood upper class.

"Did she agree to help?" Draco asked, a bit anxiously.

"She did." Hermione confirmed. "She even smiled."

"Really?" Draco asked, shocked.

"I was just as startled as you are," Hermione agreed, before shaking her head. "That woman is a master at misdirection and manipulation, terrifyingly so." She admitted, and Draco looked even prouder. "She's already warned me that she's harsh and unforgiving in her lessons, which will be more complicated then I could possibly imagine. I promised her I'd excel, if only out of sheer stubbornness."

"Oh you'll need it." Draco said, and there was a softness to his features that spoke of the love he felt for his mother. Just another thing to make him seem so much more human.

"We'll be meeting again tomorrow for a lengthy discussion, then I'll be taking our proposal to Kingsley," Hermione said, "I'll have to get him to agree to the plan first, as well as the Wizengamot, before I can even start on convincing foreign governments. But that's not for you to worry about," she added, her suddenly sharp eyes meeting mine. "That's for Narcissa and I to deal with. Your only job is to enjoy your wedding and honeymoon. Understood?" She was giving me a very stern look that reminded me much too closely of Professor McGonagall and I hastily nodded.

"One hundred percent understood." I assured her.

I could only hope that it would turn out to stay that way.