Lucius was enormously pleased when Narcissa followed Draco out of Malfoy Manor within a month of their son leaving. She told him she was going to stay with her sister, Bellatrix and her husband Rodolphus, but he honestly didn't care what she did as long as she left him alone. All he could think about was Hermione, and with Malfoy Manor now completely locked down there was no one to stop him in his pursuit of her; no one to hold him back from doing whatever he wanted with the beautiful girl. Hermione was his, body and soul, and he had every intention of using their time alone together well.

He had fairly rapidly come to the conclusion that there was no point in torturing Hermione in the hope of further revelations about her friends or the Order of the Phoenix as he was sure she had already told him everything she knew, but he was interested to note his feeling of disappointment at the thought.

Lucius had discovered that he had something of a sadistic streak in him; he quite enjoyed the pain he gave Hermione, particularly knowing she was completely helpless to do anything in retaliation. Although he would never admit it out loud, he was fairly certain he would continue to use pain on her in the future — even the slightest hesitation on her part gave him the excuse he needed to punish her.

Narcissa's leaving, and more particularly Draco's, had given Lucius another freedom: he no longer needed to worry about his alcohol consumption or, more accurately, what someone could do to him while he was under the influence. Hermione had no wand as he had confiscated it from her almost as soon as she had arrived at Malfoy Manor, and with the family gone from the house he no longer had to lock himself away when he was pissed.

If he was honest, Lucius was a little annoyed with himself at the amount he was drinking. Despite what he had told Narcissa, guilt did play a factor and it had driven him to seek solace in the bottle and continued to do so. However, in the months since his wife and son had left, his guilt had been transformed.

Although he was still having trouble reconciling his desire to look after Hermione as a father with his equally strong need to possess her as a lover, now they were alone and there was no longer the façade of a family to hide behind he was also having trouble pushing the fact that Hermione was Muggle-born out of his mind, something that was particularly difficult when his obsession with her was growing daily.

It was this guilt, more often than not, that sent him in search of the alcohol, his rabid Pure-blood beliefs pushing back against his lust and causing him to lash out at a terrified and by now half-mad Hermione, who spent every day scared out of her wits and wondering whether this would be the day that Lucius would finally lose control completely and kill her.

Sexually, Lucius was every bit as ferocious as he had always been. His craving for Hermione was like an addiction that he would do anything to slake, and there was still that deep-seated need for her to want him just as much in return. But if his guilt surfaced when he was with her then Hermione would sustain a beating — at best — he couldn't even remember the last time he had seen her without bruises, it was probably before the first time he'd had sex with her as even on that occasion he had marked her face.

In the six months since Narcissa had left he had so far almost killed Hermione five times: twice puncturing her lungs as a result of the broken ribs she had received when he had been in a particularly bad mood with her, twice when he had almost strangled her, and once when he had hexed her so badly she had been unconscious for several long and uncomfortable days. Most of the time he was able to heal her himself, although he was aware that with each attack Hermione became ever more fragile and therefore more at risk. But several times he had hurt her so badly that he'd had no choice but to seek help from Severus.

His friend provided the requested potions, notwithstanding the fact that he hadn't been at all happy about doing so. Severus had berated Lucius at length about his treatment of Hermione although he stopped short of pleading for clemency for her, understanding that this would do nothing but inflame his insane friend further and could prove fatal for the poor girl under Lucius' control.

But despite the fact that the thought of losing Hermione scared him more than he wanted to admit, Lucius couldn't stop his barbaric treatment of her, trapped in a vicious cycle that was destroying him every bit as much as it was destroying her. As the months passed, his interest in anything outside of Malfoy Manor dwindled to almost zero.

He knew the Dark Lord considered him both a liability and a broken man, an insane alcoholic worthy only of disgust and ridicule, and Lucius had been quietly sidelined, no longer called to his master's side to take part in raids or even to fight against Potter and his allies once the war began in earnest.

But Lucius honestly didn't care. He had no desire to leave Malfoy Manor or Hermione and he had no intention of giving her up, whatever happened in the world outside. She now consumed his entire life just as he dominated hers — there was nothing but the two of them, and that was exactly how he wanted it.

Him and Hermione, alone, forever.

Hermione was still shaking. She had been ever since she was wrapped in a blanket and carried away from Malfoy Manor by the Aurors that had come to arrest Lucius in the aftermath of the war, and nothing she had tried so far seemed to stop it. It was as if she was permanently scarred by her bad treatment and it was coming out as a nervous twitch.

The rescue itself had been almost unbelievable to her and had also been one of the scariest moments of her life — and she had lived through plenty of those now. She had long since given up any hope that she would make it out of Malfoy Manor alive, resigned to the fact that eventually, Lucius would kill her, assuming he didn't kill himself from overdoing the alcohol first.

The raid, when it came, was loud, terrifying and over far more quickly than Hermione would have expected. Lucius, dead-drunk as he seemed to be most of the time these days, had somewhat surprisingly capitulated almost immediately, relinquishing his wand to the Aurors and watching unhappily and somewhat bemusedly as Hermione was carried away to safety and a thorough examination at the hospital.

She had spent almost nine months alone with Lucius, during which time she had almost died several times and had wished that she would more times than she could count. Throughout it all, despite every beating and every assault on her body, she had kept going, her only wish to see Harry and Ron one more time, to discover whether her friends had defeated Voldemort, and to finally feel Ron's arms around her, holding her tightly in the way Draco used to so long ago.

There was still that spark of desire for Ron deep inside her that hadn't been there with Draco. Lucius hadn't managed to completely extinguish that flame.

Hermione knew she looked a mess even before she registered the expressions of shock on the faces of her rescuers. She was a mass of contusions and lacerations and had two black eyes where Lucius had broken her nose only a couple of days before. She hurt everywhere, and even her transportation to St Mungo's was painful, despite her rescuers' attempt to be gentle with her.

She hated Lucius more than she had ever hated anyone in her life, but at the same time he was her whole life and she was completely unable to let him go; so dependent on him for everything now that his absence left her bereft as if the most important part of her was gone and she couldn't get it back. Being away from Malfoy Manor scared Hermione and although she couldn't understand why, being away from Lucius made her fretful and agitated. She became so distressed when they were first separated that the Healer had no choice but to sedate her and now she was under permanent watch, unable to be left alone for even a few minutes in case she did something stupid.

It was a few days before Harry and Ron were allowed to visit. Although they had obviously been told, in general terms at least, about Hermione's condition, they were both still visibly shocked when they actually saw her. Harry, always the more forward of the pair, was quick to comfort her. But although it was nice that one of her friends obviously cared about her that much Hermione couldn't help but be a bit disappointed by Ron's attitude.

All the times she had thought about him over the months she had been at Malfoy Manor, and there had been many, Ron had always been her support, her rock to lean on. With the slowly burgeoning feelings that had been building between the two of them before the fateful event that had led to her incarceration and everything that had happened since, Hermione wanted nothing more than for him to hug her and tell her everything would be okay and that he would look after her and make sure no one would ever hurt her again.

But instead, Ron seemed ill at ease, almost unable to talk to her, and he certainly never made any move to hold her. He made a few feeble jokes, produced a bag of grapes that he had already eaten half of, then let Harry do all the talking while he sat and observed Hermione almost sullenly. She had no idea what Ron was seeing when he looked at her but she already knew that whatever it was, any romantic feelings on his part were gone. Hermione was broken-hearted when she realised and wondered what had happened to change him so much, but she never once showed her misery, determined only to be cheerful with her friends.

Despite being disappointed by Ron's reaction to her, Hermione tried to push it down, determined not to let it add to the bitterness she already felt about the way her life had been ruined. Maybe, once she recovered a little, once the bruises and cuts were gone and she looked normal again, she and Ron could take steps to rebuild their relationship and hopefully rekindle the flame that still burned inside her and she was sure must still be there somewhere deep inside Ron.

But although she had recovered well, physically at least, Hermione and Ron's relationship remained as distant as it had been the first time he came to see her. There was a wariness about him now that she hadn't experienced in his company since their earliest days at Hogwarts, and it made her sad to realise that however hard she tried to resurrect their closeness, Ron had no interest in being anything other than the undemonstrative friend he had always been.

It hadn't taken Hermione long to realise that her dear friend, always so transparent and clear-cut in his emotions, blamed her for what had happened at Malfoy Manor. Despite intervention from Harry on several occasions when their seemingly innocuous conversations turned into an accusing rant by Ron, he apparently would not or could not believe Hermione hadn't done something to cause Lucius to act in the way he had.

Hermione tried talking to him again and again, each time dredging up the pain — from the loss of her parents right through to remembrance of the physical and mental cruelty she had suffered at the hands of her captor — but it had no effect on Ron. Eventually, with a sinking heart, she had no choice but to accept that her relationship with Ron could never be salvaged and she began to distance herself from him as much as she could.

This was somewhat difficult at first as both of them were living at the Burrow; Molly and Arthur had insisted she stay with them on her release from the hospital. Hermione began to make plans to go back to Hogwarts in September, determined to finish the year Lucius had stolen from her. That was still a couple of months away, but with Harry, Ron and Neville now working for the Ministry of Magic pursuing their dreams of becoming Aurors she didn't have to spend much time with them as they were often away capturing and prosecuting those remaining Death Eaters who had so far escaped death or justice.

Then Ron and Harry left the Burrow completely, moving with Neville into a crappy little flat nearer to the Ministry so their irregular work hours wouldn't disturb anyone else, and they were all so excited about it that it seemed they had forgotten Hermione even existed.

It hurt at first, knowing that the friendship that had sustained her through not only her captivity but six of the most important and formative years of her life had been shattered almost beyond repair. All she could do now was retreat and bide her time and hope that eventually Ron would understand how unfair he was being to her.

Hermione tugged nervously at her top, finding it hard to stand still as she waited in the visitor's queue to be admitted to the Ministry of Magic. She felt guilty although she had no idea why, and she expected a guard to grab her at any moment and haul her away for some crime she didn't even know she had committed.

Maybe it was an automatic reaction for all visitors to the Ministry; the place was still the bastion of law and order for the wizarding world although it was now far more open and inclusive under the watchful eye of Kingsley Shacklebolt than it had ever been under the ironclad grip of one her least favourite people, Cornelius Fudge.

Hermione still hadn't forgiven Fudge for abandoning her to the pain and suffering she had undergone with Lucius. The stupid man had been so blinded by the Death Eater's immaculate act that he had wrenched her away from the comfort and help she needed so badly in the aftermath of her parents' death and into the cold and ultimately hateful family she had tried so hard to become a part of.

By the time she reached the guard station for them to process her wand, Hermione was feeling sick, ready to turn and run. Why had she ever thought this was a good idea? It was the worst idea imaginable and she had no real understanding of what had driven her here.

'Why are you here today?' the guard asked in a friendly manner as Hermione handed him her wand to put on the brass scale. He gave her a reassuring smile.

Hermione swallowed nervously. 'I'm here to see a friend.'

The guard looked at the slip of parchment that had been produced with her wand's details upon it. 'Ten and three-quarter inches, vine wood, dragon heartstring, been in use for seven years?'

'That's right,' Hermione confirmed.

'Do you know where you need to go?' he asked kindly.

Hermione nodded. 'I'm meeting him in the Atrium.'

The guard smiled again as he gave her back her wand, his tone pleasant as he nodded in approval. 'It's quite pleasant in there now, ever since they got rid of that bloody awful statue that Pius Thicknesse had installed. It's a nice place to have a drink and a bite to eat — you'll enjoy it.'

Hermione gave him a wan smile, figuring this was what he was trying to coax from her. It was what everyone tried to do, apparently uncomfortable with the serious visage that was Hermione's usual expression these days. It had now been almost four months since she had been released from Malfoy Manor but she still found it hard to smile; her lighthearted side, once so readily apparent, seemed gone forever.

She thanked the guard and followed the never-ending stream of people entering the Ministry, walking along the long corridor towards the Atrium. The last time she had been here was during her fifth year at Hogwarts, when she and her friends followed Harry on what he had thought was a quest to save his godfather, Sirius Black, from attack by Voldemort, who was using him to access a weapon that was being held somewhere in the bowels of the Ministry. It was a weapon the Order of the Phoenix had been guarding all year and that Arthur Weasley, Ron's dad, had almost died to protect.

They had raced on thestrals, a bloody scary experience for Hermione as she still couldn't even see them, all the way from Scotland down to London, Harry convinced all the while that Sirius was being tortured. The place was so big that they had no idea where to start looking; but then Harry, remembering his dreams, had directed them to the distinctly scary and unsettling Department of Mysteries, with its many doors and its unpleasant surprises.

Lucius had been there, Hermione remembered with a jolt of surprise. She had completely forgotten that until just now. He was leading a group of Death Eaters including his sister-in-law, the mad witch Bellatrix Lestrange, who had come to the Ministry knowing Harry and his friends were there looking for and finally locating the weapon Voldemort had been so eager to attain. It turned out not to be a weapon after all but a prophecy made about Harry and Voldemort shortly before Harry's birth.

There had been no sign of Sirius — unsurprisingly — as it turned out that Voldemort had planted false visions in Harry's mind purely to get him to the Ministry and in possession of the glass ball containing the prophecy. They were the only two people able to take it from the shelf, and Voldemort hadn't yet been ready to reveal himself to the Ministry of Magic.

Lucius had tried to take the prophecy off Harry, and in the battle that ensued Hermione was seriously injured by one of the Death Eaters, cut down by a vicious curse. Members of the Order of the Phoenix, including Sirius, came to their rescue but she had no memory of this nor of the moment Sirius had died, sent through the strangely unsettling archway they had encountered earlier by a blast from his cousin Bellatrix's spell.

She had also missed the epic battle that raged between Professor Dumbledore and Voldemort, who had turned up at the Ministry when he realised his forces weren't winning. The Ministry's own staff and Fudge, at that time still Minister for Magic, turned up too late to do anything but gaze in astonishment, as usual.

Hermione had only discovered all this later, once she came to in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts in a bed next to Ron, who had also been quite seriously injured in the Department of Mysteries, and Harry regaled them both with tales of the events they had missed.

Her future captor and tormentor, Lucius, had been captured during the battle and was sent to Azkaban. Unfortunately, he escaped only a few months later along with the other Death Eaters housed there and somehow managed to convince the Ministry of Magic — or Fudge, at least — that he had been falsely imprisoned and wasn't a Death Eater.

If only Fudge — who Hermione blamed personally for what had happened — had listened to Professor Dumbledore instead of worrying that the Hogwart's Headmaster was trying to usurp him as Minister for Magic and had checked on the guards in Azkaban prison, he would have known the Dementors had deserted their posts and joined Voldemort, who could better provide the desperate fare they survived on.

If that had happened, the breakout would never have occurred and Lucius would not have been free to inveigle his old friend into placing Hermione at Malfoy Manor instead of with the Weasleys at the Burrow on the night her parents had died. In fact, it was quite possible that had Lucius and his Death Eater friends stayed locked up in Azkaban, the attack on her parents might never have taken place.

Hermione had reached the Atrium now and looked around in approval. She hadn't seen the statue the guard spoke of although she had heard about it — a hulking great thing showing Muggles being put in their true place by a Pure-blood witch and wizard, called 'Magic is Might' — the one-time logo of the Ministry of Magic itself. It had nauseated her when Harry had told her about it but she wasn't entirely surprised, remembering who had really been in charge of the Ministry at that time.

The current statue was simple and did not dominate the area as the previous ones had. It was a highly polished black marble column upon which were engraved the names of all those who had lost their lives to Voldemort and his Dark forces. It was surrounded by a square of simple seating in the same stone, water rippling gently along behind and lush green foliage giving the place a tranquil feel.

Hermione walked over to it and wandered around the column, reading the names and remembering some of the people to whom the dedications had been made. She approved of the statue and its setting. It fit perfectly into Kingsley's vision of what the wizarding world should be in the aftermath of the war, and she was extremely impressed that he had managed to get it erected so quickly; no doubt he wanted to get rid of the previous statue and the associations it invoked as urgently as possible.

It was better than the statue before that one, too, the one that had been destroyed during the battle between Professor Dumbledore and Voldemort. That one had been almost as patronising as the later statue in its own way, a gleaming, towering thing in gold that had to have been made by a wizard. Hermione remembered the faces of the centaur, house-elf and goblin contained within the sculpture as they looked adoringly at the simpering witch and the handsome wizard who, now she came to think of it, looked a lot like Lucius.

She gave a small snort. No doubt a Malfoy ancestor had been elevating his clan again, making out they were the best thing in the wizarding world when the truth was they were nothing but cancer that needed to be cut out, or at the very least locked away and quarantined.

For a moment she felt a twinge of guilt for that thought. Draco, despite all the problems she'd had with him during their early years at school, had been kind to her when she was a prisoner at Malfoy Manor. He had accepted her as his sister, had even fought for her, standing up to his father in a way she would never have believed possible until she saw it for herself.

Even Narcissa had been kind in her own way although Hermione still hadn't forgiven her for not attempting to stop Lucius in the early days of his abuse. The woman had known what he was doing but had buried her head in the sand, pretending nothing was going on because it was the easiest course of action. She had redeemed herself somewhat once Draco left, taking on his mantle as Hermione's protector, but Lucius had soon tired of Narcissa's attempts to force him to behave appropriately and made her life so miserable that she eventually left the manor, too, leaving Hermione alone with her abuser.

Hermione didn't blame Narcissa for leaving. By that time Lucius was so obsessed with her that he would let nothing and no one stand in his way and, she strongly suspected, would have been quite happy to injure or even kill his wife to get her out of his way. She still remembered their final goodbye, when Narcissa had held her as tenderly as her own mother would have done, tears streaming down both their cheeks as she apologised for leaving her alone in the same way Draco had done only a month or so before. It had broken Hermione's heart then and still made her feel sad now, but what was done was done and there was no changing it or going back.

She hadn't seen Draco or Narcissa since she had been released nor did she want to. The close, almost familial bond she and Draco had shared during her incarceration had been fractured when he was thrown out of Malfoy Manor, and by the time she emerged at the end of her ordeal too much time had passed for them to truly recapture what they once had.

She was pretty sure that the return to school with his friends had given him the chance to reassess the situation, and although she had no proof she suspected Draco's feelings were now somewhat akin to Ron's. Had he, too, considered her position in Lucius' life and come to the conclusion that she had done something to engender the blond Death Eater's obsession and lust?

Hermione hoped not. There had been a real bond between them, however briefly, and she fervently wanted to remember him as the young man who had held her as she wept, comforting her and keeping her as safe as he was able, never judging her for what happened between her and his father. Despite the fact she hadn't made any effort to see him it would be awful to think Draco was out there somewhere scorning her because his viewpoint had changed.

She sighed as she sat down at a table in a café area close to the statue and stared at her watch. She was five minutes early but hopefully it would give her a chance to calm down and prepare herself. At the moment her heart was racing and there were butterflies in her stomach, swooping and diving, and she wanted to run away.

A smiling young man dressed in serving attire appeared at her side, almost as if from nowhere.

'Good afternoon, Miss. Can I get you something?' he asked, his voice melodious and deferential. He was smiling brightly as if she was the best thing to happen to him all day.

Hermione considered for a moment. 'I'm waiting for a friend who should be here shortly. Can I have a pot of tea for two, please?'

'Certainly, you may,' the young man answered with another smile. Almost bowing, he backed away and disappeared much as he had arrived.

Hermione picked up the menu and glanced at it briefly as she waited for the tea to arrive. Harry and Ron had both complained to her about the food here but she guessed this wasn't where they normally ate. The café was quite expensive considering the sort of fare it served and with its pleasant location was clearly there to attract visitors to the Ministry of Magic rather than its employees.

The young man was back, carrying a tray with a flourish that exposed that he was a bit of a show-off. With another grin at Hermione followed by a cheeky wink, he unloaded the tray and withdrew as Hermione lifted the lid of the teapot to give the leaves a stir.

'I'm glad you've ordered tea, Hermione. I'm absolutely gasping,' Arthur Weasley said pleasantly as he joined her, giving her a brief hug and a kiss on the cheek before taking his place at the table opposite her.

'How are you?' He peered at her.

Hermione tried to give him a smile but it was as pale as the one she had given the guard.

'I'm fine, thank you, Mr Weasley,' she said politely as she poured tea into two cups. 'Help yourself to milk and sugar.'

Arthur took a sip of his tea with a sigh of contentment. 'You're looking well today, although a little pale maybe.'

'I'm doing okay,' Hermione told him, trying to take her mind off the reason she was at the Ministry in the first place, which was probably what was making her look so pale.

She remembered that she hadn't seen much of Arthur recently outside of hurried mealtimes at the Burrow. He had been busy with his new promotion and she had been here, there and everywhere desperately trying to put her life back together.

'I'm just getting prepared to go back to Hogwarts in September and study for my final year of N.E.W.T.s. It's been a while since I've done any formal study and I know I'll have a lot of work to catch up on to get me back up to speed but I'm really looking forward to it, and I'm hopeful that I'll be able to match Percy for qualifications by this time next year. He got full marks on all of his N.E.W.T.s, didn't he?'

'He did,' Arthur agreed, sounding proud of his son. 'If there was one thing our Percy was always very good at it was academic qualifications. He might have been a bit of an idiot in a lot of ways . . . although, of course, he came good in the end.'

He studied Hermione as he drank his tea. Even though she seemed to be doing all right, as she had told him, she had completely lost her verve. She was serious and never wore a smile, at least no more than a ghost of one, and there was a slight indecisiveness that had never been there before as if she was second-guessing every move she made.

Although she didn't mention it, Arthur was aware that Hermione still suffered from crippling nightmares and acute mood swings that often plunged her into almost bottomless depression; he couldn't help but wonder whether this year was too early to return to the strict and rigid environment of Hogwarts.

'Do you think you're ready to return to school?' he asked kindly. 'It's only been a few months since you were rescued and—'

'I need to go,' Hermione admitted slightly desperately, cutting him off. 'I need to keep my mind occupied and studying for my N.E.W.T.s will do that.'

She didn't mention that it would help her to stop thinking about the bad stuff, but she was pretty sure Arthur understood what she really meant.

'I'm just a bit worried that after all the stress you've been under, adding more, especially in a pressurised environment like Hogwarts, might not be the right thing for you right now. Why don't you leave it a year and go back when you've given yourself a chance to fully recover?' Arthur suggested.

Hermione stared at him as if he was completely mad. 'I've just told you I need to keep myself occupied, Mr Weasley. What am I supposed to do with myself for a whole year while I wait for next September to roll round?'

'How about coming to work for the Ministry?' Arthur suggested. 'Kingsley is crying out for good staff at the moment and I'm sure he would be more than happy to give you a job.'

Hermione wrinkled her nose. 'To be honest, I'm not sure it's for me. I'm not really cut out to be an Auror, having seen what Harry, Ron and Neville get up to. And I don't want to go anywhere near the Department of Mysteries ever again. That place gave me the creeps.'

Arthur chuckled. 'Yes, it affects a lot of people like that. You definitely have to be a certain type of person to become an Unspeakable. But there are plenty of other departments you could consider. I'm sure any of them would keep your mind sufficiently occupied, then you could decide later whether you wanted to return to school.'

But a job at the Ministry wouldn't keep me away from Ron and the heartbreak that being near him causes, Hermione thought sadly. Going back to Hogwarts was geographically preferable to being located in the same building as her far-too-distant friend.

Even though it might cause some problems, particularly if her nightmares persisted, she was certain that in the long run it was a better option than working at the Ministry of Magic. Anyway, she had always wanted to finish her education and honestly didn't see any point in putting it off for another year.

'I know it seems like a lot of work but I really do think I'm ready,' Hermione said. 'I'll admit that there have been a few tough times in the last few months, but if I need help Madam Pomfrey will be right there. It's going to be fine, honestly. You don't need to worry about me, Mr Weasley.'

Arthur thought about what she had just told him, trying to spot any holes in her argument, some sign that Hermione wasn't as stable as she was trying to appear, but she seemed to have covered herself well, and the bit about Poppy Pomfrey was clearly designed to assuage any worry he and his wife had about her.

But whatever Hermione said out loud, there was still something holding her down, stopping her from spreading her wings and reaching for the heights everyone knew she could achieve if she set her mind to it; something that was pulling her inexorably into a dark and dangerous place. That thing was Lucius Malfoy, and in particular, her mental state after his treatment of her during her incarceration at Malfoy Manor.

Except in the very early days after Hermione's rescue when the Ministry of Magic needed to question her extensively to discover what she had survived and Arthur had acted in the role of guardian, accompanying her to the meetings and ensuring that the questioning didn't go beyond what the poor girl could bear at the time, they had never discussed her captivity at Malfoy Manor nor had they talked about what Lucius had done to her.

Arthur knew all about it, of course. He had seen the reports from St Mungo's listing her extensive collection of injuries both internal and external and had listened as Hermione described, in sometimes far too graphic detail, some of the things Lucius had done to her. There was a lot she hadn't told them, though. Arthur knew this, as he was sure the Ministry did, too, but with his other crimes also being taken into account, they had more than enough to convict Lucius and didn't need to insist that Hermione reveal any further details, for which he was glad.

The suggested counsellor had been gently rebuffed, Hermione not being ready to face her demons and drive them away yet, so Arthur had left her to heal by herself, certain that Hermione knew what was best for her and was sensible enough to ask for help when she needed it — although having seen the state she was in after her release he had anticipated the process taking considerably longer than a few months.

The fact that she was now talking about returning to Hogwarts suggested to him that Hermione was trying to bury what had happened to her and ignore it rather than work through and come to terms with it, and that wouldn't be good for her or anyone else she knew in the long run, especially if she was still having trouble with her mood swings.

But now Hermione had asked for his help and although he had misgivings about her request Arthur found himself unable to turn it down, knowing that if she was right this was what she needed to bring her closure and maybe even the return of her happiness.

'Are you sure you want to go through with this, Hermione?' he asked anxiously.

Hermione stared at him for several long seconds, her downcast eyes capturing his, then she nodded.

'I have to,' she told him, her voice no higher than a murmur. 'I have problems—' She broke off for a moment as if upset, but after taking a deep breath to steady herself she continued. 'Sometimes I don't sleep too well, and sometimes I feel—' She sighed. 'Sorry, Mr Weasley but I don't seem to be able to express myself properly . . . another of the problems, I'm afraid.'

She picked up her teacup and took a sip of her tea. Arthur noticed her hand was shaking.

'Hermione?'

She waved her hand dismissively. 'I'm fine, honestly I am, but I really need to do this otherwise I don't think it's ever going to end for me . . . and it's not like I can leave it for another few months, is it?' Hermione looked up from her cup, once again staring into Arthur's eyes, beseechingly this time. 'You do understand, don't you, Mr Weasley?'

Arthur gave a brisk nod. 'Yes, I think I do.' He finished his tea and returned the cup to the saucer. He smiled at her as he pulled out his money bag and fished out a few coins, leaving them next to the teapot. 'Whenever you're ready, then.'

Hermione deposited her own cup on the table then stood, the first proper smile Arthur had seen her give in a long time settling on her face.

'No time like the present,' she said cheerfully.

The smile was false, as was the carefree manner she was trying hard to effect. The truth was that she was terrified as the madly swooping butterflies reminded her as she followed Mr Weasley towards the lift.

'Is it possible for me to go in there alone?' she petitioned quietly once they were outside the door they needed.

Arthur stared at her sharply, worried about her request.

'Why would you want to go alone?' he asked with a frown.

'There are things . . . things I've never told anyone about, but I need to discuss them if I ever want to get past this place in my life,' Hermione admitted. 'I can't talk about them if anyone else is there.'

Arthur sighed and rubbed his forehead, his brow furrowed with anxiety.

'You know I shouldn't let you go in there alone,' he said.

Hermione laid her hand on his arm. 'Please, Mr Weasley. I promise I'll come back out if it gets too much for me, but I really need to do this alone.

Arthur deliberated for a few seconds, then gave one brief nod.

'Okay. I'll let you go in alone. But if you start to feel upset or if there's an uncomfortable atmosphere or whatever, you need to come out straight away, do you understand, Hermione?'

'Of course I do. I'm here to help myself, not to injure myself further,' Hermione assured him.

Arthur's hand was on the doorknob now. 'Don't stay in there too long, whatever happens.'

'I won't need to,' Hermione said.

Arthur used his free hand to remove the sealing charm on the room, then twisted the knob and opened the door. He watched as Hermione entered, slowly and seeming full of trepidation. He had the urge to enter with her, to keep her safe from the madman within, but he had promised to allow her to do this alone and he would not break a promise.

He pulled the door closed, shivering as he caught sight of the blond man within whose eyes glinted with fevered pleasure as he welcomed Hermione into his domain.

'Hermione! Oh, my darling—'

The door closed with a clunk.

Arthur was already wishing he hadn't agreed to let Hermione visit Lucius Malfoy at all, let alone on her own. The sooner the bloody man was transferred to Azkaban the better it would be for everyone, including her. He glanced at his watch, wanting to make sure she didn't spend more than ten minutes in there. Surely that would be more than sufficient time for her to say what needed to be said, wouldn't it?

He debated for a moment, then put the sealing charm back on the room before walking away, heading rapidly for the men's toilet. He would only be gone for a few minutes and despite what she had promised him, Arthur knew Hermione wouldn't leave until she sorted things out in her own mind, however much she may feel like she should, so it would be safe enough to leave her like that.

Once ten minutes was up Arthur knocked on the door, then opened it immediately, unsure of what he was about to find. Lucius was still sitting in the same position as when Hermione had first arrived, his gaze completely focussed on her and nothing else, and Arthur found it chilling. Hermione was seated opposite Lucius, staring back at him just as intently although she had a frown on her face.

'It's time to go, Hermione,' he said quietly, touching her shoulder.

Hermione jumped as if she hadn't realised he was there, so deep was her concentration on her former captor. She looked up at Arthur and nodded, then stood.

'Well, goodbye, Lucius,' she said quietly.

'Hermione, please—' Lucius broke off and turned, instead, to Arthur.

Pleadingly, he asked, 'Weasley, can't you give us just a few more minutes alone? Please, take pity on a poor sinner.'

Arthur stared at him with distaste for a second, then turned to Hermione. 'Are you ready to leave?'

She nodded, seeming unable to speak. He noticed her cheeks were flushed and she looked as if she was about to cry.

'Time's up, Malfoy.' He guided Hermione towards the door, then turned to look at the obviously upset man. 'Enjoy your stint in Azkaban, won't you? This time you won't be able to escape, so you're going to finally do your time.'

Lucius stared back at him, imperious now, a malicious smile crossing his lips. 'At least I won't have to see you or any of the rest of your insufferable family, Weasley.'

Arthur flushed, a retort springing automatically to his lips but he managed to bite it back knowing Lucius was merely goading him. He followed Hermione out of the door and slammed it shut, reinstating the sealing charm with a satisfied smile.

In another hour Lucius Malfoy would be transported across the North Sea to the inhospitable prison called Azkaban, where he would spend the next twenty-five years serving a sentence for which he was long overdue.

Arthur honestly thought it couldn't happen to anyone more deserving.

They returned to the Atrium and Arthur bought Hermione another cup of tea. The two of them waited in silence as the waiter brought it to them.

'Are you okay?' Arthur asked anxiously.

Hermione nodded and said softly, 'At least he apologised.'

Arthur realised she was crying, twin trails of tears sliding down her face as she stirred her tea again and again, almost as if she was an automaton. He reached out to take the teaspoon from her, replacing it with a handkerchief he pulled from his pocket. Hermione dabbed at her eyes just as automatically as she had used the spoon.

After a considerable pause, Arthur enquired, 'Did it help, do you think?'

Hermione looked steadily at him for several more long seconds.

'I'm not sure,' she admitted.

'Maybe it's time for you to see a counsellor now?' Arthur suggested tentatively.

Hermione shook her head, looking peevish. 'No. I don't need that.' She sighed, then said less angrily, 'I'm not entirely sure what I do need, Mr Weasley but I don't think counselling is the answer.' She took a sip of her tea and gave him a small grin. 'I just need to get back to Hogwarts and the school Library. No doubt the answer to my problem is in there somewhere, probably towards the back of the Restricted Section.'

Arthur watched her fondly as he drank his own tea, knowing there was nothing further he could say. Hermione wanted to go back to school and despite his concerns, there was no way he could stop her. He wasn't her father and had no legal right to interfere in her life. All he could do was offer support, and that he had already done and would continue to do.

Perhaps he was worrying unnecessarily and for Hermione school really was the answer. He could only hope so and be ready to pick up the pieces if it turned out not to be what she needed. At least Minerva would be able to keep an eye on her and Poppy could provide help with the nightmares if they got too much — even they couldn't beat a Dreamless Sleep potion.

'Are you going to go and visit Harry and Ron while you're here?' he asked once it was clear Hermione had finished her tea.

She shook her head. 'No. I don't think they're in today. Harry was saying something about some big raid they were all working on.'

Arthur smiled. 'I have absolutely no idea what those two are up to since they moved out of the Burrow. I can't keep track of them.'

'Me neither. To be honest, I'm feeling a bit worn out now although I know that sounds stupid. I think I was so wound up about seeing Lucius again that now it's over I just feel . . . oh, I don't know, I can't explain it,' Hermione said.

'You don't have to,' Arthur said kindly. 'I understand exactly what you mean. Are you going to go back to the Burrow, then?'

Hermione shook her head. 'I thought I'd go to Diagon Alley first, as I'm up here. I can get my school stuff and have a browse through the shops. I'll be back in time for tea, though, so if you get there before me tell Mrs Weasley not to worry.'

Arthur stood up when Hermione did. She came round the table and gave him a hug that he was happy to return.

'Thank you, Mr Weasley,' she said quietly. 'Thank you for everything.'

'You're quite welcome, Hermione,' Arthur said sincerely.