But Lucius Malfoy did know what his next move was. He was getting reaquainted with normal life again. But when was his life ever normal? The manor was just as he left it, with one pretty major exception. His wife had moved into a house of her own several years ago, although she never divorced him. The pureblood world truly was archaic – it was much like living in centuries past. If they were to divorce, much of Narcissa's wealth would be lost. And if you were like Narcissa, you would miss having a disposable income to be frivolously spent. Lucius decided to deal with her later, and headed to his rooms to rest. It was uneasy, he thought. How did someone go from living in a meager box to a mansion the size of the prison itself? While waiting for his freedom, he had relished in dreaming about returning, but now that he was here, everything felt too open. Rest did not come easily for him that night, nor for many nights thereafter. He had spent the first night waiting for something to happen. Waiting for someone to pop out of nowhere and end him. Although news had not yet broke of his release, his paranoia was still prevalent. He had the foresight to send money to Rita Skeeter to prevent a fallout for this very day he knew was coming. He had received a short sentence in the first place for his crimes, and he was surprised when they had let him out a year early. He had indeed shown remorse for what he did. It started towards the end of it all – when Voldemort had shown no regard for Draco, whom Lucius loved fiercely. He knew he had difficulty showing it then. Now it didn't seem so hard to. Things change when you cannot readily get them, you know? When Voldemort put Draco's life on the line for a task he knew he would fail, it woke Lucius from his stupor, and made him change his thoughts on living itself. Narcissa, however, did not feel the same way. She was ashamed and sickened, she said. How could he betray the Dark Lord at this pivotal stage? He had begged her to see through it all – and to see what this was doing to their beloved son. But she was too far gone. Narcissa was always one step away from insanity, he thought. She was more like her sister than she ever knew. She just kept up appearances.
Back to the Manor, he was at his desk in the sitting room, by a small fire. His house elf, Bobunk popped in with a tray of tea and biscuits.
"Master Malfoy lets Bobunk know if he needs something, Sir."
Lucius nodded curtly and before the elf popped away, he stopped him.
"Wait…there is something you could do for me." He looked at the house elf, who looked as though he was willing to go to the ends of the Earth for the man.
"Yes, Master, just tell Bobunk and he will do it."
"Find out where Hermione Granger lives. I need to see her."
Ginny left after her tea and Hermione ate her breakfast: an apple, which was the only thing she could stomach. Her mind was racing so fast it was making her dizzy. Lucius was free. What did this mean? How did he get released early? She stumbled into her shower, going through the motions, her mind buzzing. She was so terrified that he would show up – not that she was afraid of him, but because she was afraid of what it would be like, their interactions on the outside. She knew what to expect of him in Azkaban.
It was easy, really, she thought. She wished for a fleeting moment that muggles could access their magic to make operations simple as a hand movement. It didn't seem fair that the magical world kept everything under wraps…not when it could help millions of people, muggle or not. Lucius was in his heavily secured room at St. Mungo's, and Hermione was outside, finishing her paperwork and waiting for one of his dependents to arrive so she could inform them of his situation. She had a medi-aide send a Patronus to Narcissa, telling her of the predicament at hand, and when they had not heard or seen from her, she sent one herself to Draco, letting him know that his father was out of surgery, and he should come, regardless of his feelings...he was still his father. Realizing that neither was coming, she filed her papers and went into his room. Lucius was still sedated, but was doing fine. She studied his features. He hadn't changed much since the end of the war. His once beautiful platinum blonde hair was a shaggy mess, his five o'clock shadow was more nocturnal than she had thought possible, and he was emaciated to the point of any possible bones that could show, were on prominent display. She couldn't help it – she pitied him. He had seemed to have lost everything. His family was virtually non-existent in her eyes (I mean, who doesn't show up for a loved ones surgery, honestly?), his confidence was shattered, and he held no power anymore. She understood then. He didn't hold any power over her anymore. There was no reason to be frightened again. He was just a man, just a person. In her absence of thought, she reached out a hand to stroke his sleeping face, feeling the stubble of his chin underneath her fingertips, and held back a sigh of shock. Her hand pulled back, and his eyes opened.
As she was getting dressed, she heard what she thought was someone apparating, and threw on her jumper to go outside and investigate, but she saw no one.
"Bloody hell, Hermione," she said quietly to herself. "Stop being paranoid." Grasping the doorknob to go back outside, she thought she heard another noise. She glanced back, and felt a hand on her shoulder, and whipping her head around she saw him.
"Miss Granger?"
"Lucius. You're here." She breathed.