I couldn't resist - here's chapter two already!! I have a feeling chapter three will follow pretty soon too - we need to know what's happening in Hermione's head!! I still own none of the characters - grrr! Thanks for all the interest - hope you enjoy what will happen in the next few chapters. Review if you can, please please - it keeps me happy!!


Two - Memories

Hermione's brown eyes locked with Lucius Malfoy's piercing grey ones. He held her stare unblinkingly. She felt as if his gaze would penetrate right through her skull and into her mind itself. The intensity of his stare was almost painful. The ache in her head grew stronger, but try as she might she could not tear her eyes away from his. The iciness of his eyes seemed to transmit to her blood, which she could suddenly feel coursing fast but frozen round her limbs. She seemed unable to move or think, but then from somewhere far away something penetrated her consciousness. She could hear screaming, distant at first but then louder and shriller. Screaming which rent the air in its agony and helplessness. Forcing concentration to return to her senses, Hermione realised she was listening to her own screams, screams of fear and agony from all those years ago in the house belonging to the man now standing in front of her. Time had stopped. She knew it. She was helpless.

"Miss Granger. Pleasant as our sudden and unexpected reacquaintance is, I would appreciate you relinquishing your grasp on my person. I would not want the material crushed."

Lucius spoke with his familiar smooth drawl, the usual sarcastic undertones present but surprisingly muted. His deep mellifluous tones finally brought Hermione back to her senses and she looked down to find her knuckles white from her grip on the front of his robes. She pulled her hands away as if burned, and took several steps back. She was breathing fast, and fearing she may pass out from this sudden assault on her senses, she moved as rapidly as she could towards the door. Head down, she dared not, nor wished to glance up again at the man who had caused this inner turmoil. But before she could pass him, he raised his cane swiftly to a 90 degree angle, blocking her path. Familiar, sickening terror once again swept over her. She stopped stock still, unable to move, staring straight ahead, willing him to let her pass.

Nothing happened for what seemed like an age. His scent once more filled her nostrils, making her reel. It grew stronger and she was aware that he had stepped close to her again. He lowered his cane and held it high up near the head. But still she found herself unable to move. He stepped towards her yet again and leaned in. Every nerve was on edge and she became aware of each hair on her body standing straight out. Her breathing came hard and fast, and he was now so close that she felt his breath mingling with hers in the thick air between them.

He slowly raised his cane and with it, pushed her hair back from around her ear. She flinched slightly, then stopped herself. She would not, dared not, show him her naked fear. She had beaten him before, she would do so again. The heady smell of him hung heavy in the air around them, intensifying still as he leant slowly in, bringing his mouth within a breath of her ear. She closed her eyes. Her heart was pounding so loudly, she was sure he could hear it.

"Miss Granger," his voice purred in her ear, "I am disappointed that you speak so amicably to my son, yet do not afford me the same courtesy. I would expect better of you. Four years is a long time. Forgive and forget, Miss Granger, forgive and forget."

She spun her head quickly in shock at hearing the words which had echoed around her head earlier, repeated so intimately in her ear by Lucius Malfoy. Her eyes locked with his once again, searching them for an explanation, and she felt her senses burning. But this time her fortitude was fired and without a word she turned from him and strode out of the shop.

She walked with composure past the window, but once around the corner from Flourish and Blotts, her pace quickened and she was soon sprinting as far away from the bookshop as she could get. She spun into a quiet alleyway and slowed to a jog. Her lungs were bursting and her muscles shocked by the sudden activity. Her legs gave way and she collapsed against the wall, as her mental resolve also dissolved and hot tears came fast in thick gasping sobs. Her head back against the brickwork, she arched her neck as her body was wracked with exhaustion, emotionally and physically. Her gasps of despair echoed up through the high buildings of the alleyway, her young fragile body shaking uncontrollably.

Eventually, after what seemed an age, she was able to tune back into herself and became aware properly for the first time of her surroundings. She was sitting in a dirty, damp back street, which had probably not been cleaned for weeks. Harsh reality dawned and Hermione forced herself to stand up, inspecting her clothes and finding them crumpled and soiled.

"Shit," she groaned. She couldn't tell how much time had passed, but it felt like hours. She had been due back at the Ministry at 2 o'clock. How was she now supposed to return, late and in a state of disarray? Still, her innate sense of duty kicked in. She would have to go back and offer some sort of explanation.

When she finally got back to the Ministry, she quickly popped into the toilets and tried to make herself as presentable as possible, resorting to using a cleansing charm, although using magic to cover her shame seemed cheap. She leaned heavily against the basin and stared into the mirror. Just then, her abdomen cramped painfully, reminding her viciously that she had eaten nothing all day. She forced her body to ignore the protest from her stomach, straightening herself and meeting her own eyes boldly in the mirror. Her puffy, tear-stained face had recovered on the walk back, and on entering her department, she appeared as composed as she had at 9 o'clock that morning.

She couldn't fail to notice the glances as she walked in nearly two hours late, however. And as she passed the rows of desks, her face flushed red and her jaw stiffened. She entered her office swiftly and shut the door immediately behind her, leaning against it briefly with closed eyes before sitting down at her desk and assembling her copious amounts of paperwork in front of her.

In a strange way, she was grateful for the embarrassment her tardiness had evoked. It served at least to quell the maelstrom of emotions she had experienced. She at last found herself able to subdue the shock and pain of earlier and forced herself to focus on her work, waiting for the inevitable questions which would be asked regarding her lateness.

It didn't take long. She had only been working for five minutes when there was a polite but clear knock at the door. She sighed slightly, not sure what she would say, then lifted her head and called as cheerily as possible, "Come in."

It was Ormus Snipworth, her immediate boss, a look of slight bemusement on his face. "Hi, Hermione. Can I have a word please?"

"Of course, sit down."

"Ummm...I'm OK standing thanks....it's just that we noticed you didn't return when you said you would after lunch. I was just wondering..."

"Sorry. I'm really, really sorry," she blurted her words out, feeling like a Second Year again, caught by McGonagall out of bounds, and she spoke as such, not allowing Ormus to finish his inquiry. "It won't happen again. It was a mistake. I found myself in a position I....." She stopped, unsure how to continue. She didn't want to make excuses, but equally wanted to express the extraordinary nature of her tardiness.

Ormus spoke, stepping further into the room, increased concern evident in his voice. "Hermione, are you alright? I'm sure you have a good explanation for your late arrival. You don't have to tell me. And anyway, you are allowed to take extended lunch breaks from time to time, as long as you ask in advance. I'm sure it won't happen again – it's not like you after all. Your work so far, as we fully expected, has been exceptional. I'm not having a go. I just wanted to know you're OK." He paused. "Are you?"

Hermione smiled up at him. Part of her thought she would once more burst into tears and blurt out the whole sad story of how a brief chance encounter with one man and his son had reduced her to an uncontrollable wreck and reawakened her deepest insecurities. But she managed not to. Her smile persisted and she replied in a remarkably self-assured voice, "Oh, I'm fine, Ormus, there's no need to worry. I just got waylaid by something that is over and done with now. I can assure you it will not happen again and I am deeply sorry it happened today."

Ormus smiled and nodded slowly. She wasn't sure he was convinced, and was relieved when he finally turned and headed out of her door. He leaned back in just before departing and commented, "If you ever want to chat..."

"Thank you!" she laughed with mock insouciance.

Once the door was shut she slumped her head into her hands and shook it slowly. Come on, Hermione, get a grip, she thought. Straightening her papers once more, she sat up and focused intently on the words in front of her. She knew she could always rely on words to distract her from the world around her.


Hmm ... I think it will take more than that to distract Hermione - it is Lucius after all! What did you think? Let me know. Chapter three up soon! x