Chapter Seven

The sight that befell Hermione Granger threw her for longer than she would care to admit.

He was calm.

He was relaxed.

He was... smiling.

"Miss Granger," he acknowledged, inclining his head. "Good of you to come."

The reflective quality of his silvery eyes had broken; instead the dim firelight glittered through them in her direction. Lucius Malfoy sat comfortably at the rear of the classroom, a small glass of what looked like brandy in his hand. His elegant velvet jacket was unbuttoned, revealing a surprisingly loose black shirt underneath.

"Please do sit down."

He kicked out a stool from under the nearest desk. Hermione approached with small steps, overwhelmed with confusion.

"Good of me to come?" She repeated, reaching the stool. "I hardly had a choice."

She pulled the stool well out of Lucius's reach before settling. Her pale adversary took a sip from his glass. He smiled at her all too genuinely.

"I do believe we rather... got off on the wrong foot this morning."

Hermione stifled a disbelieving laugh. He noticed.

"I admit I have, shall we say, a somewhat vicious temper."

"That's one way of putting it," Hermione replied, still aware of the yellow bruises slowly forming under her shirt.

Lucius Malfoy rested his glass, sitting forwards. His hands came together on his lap and his face changed in the firelight. Hermione could hardly believe those placid eyes were the same ones she had seen the same morning.

"I assure you, it won't happen again."

A peculiar pang hit Hermione square in the chest. It was ridiculous to believe him, whether he looked so earnest or not.

He looked away to the nearest desk, a small smile playing at the corner of his pale lips. "I've been thinking a lot about you today."

"I-"

Hermione began to speak, but lost her words. Blood rushed to her cheeks, and she thanked Merlin the room was dark.

Eventually Lucius looked up, meeting her eyes once more.

"I understand why you despise me."

No words came to Hermione. She had no idea how to handle what was happening. She had been ready for a fight, for harsh words, for imminent danger.

"I thought I might use this opportunity... to explain something to you."

She managed a nod.

Lucius reclined against the back wall once more, taking up his glass. "I know that you know what I was," he stated plainly. "A Death Eater."

Hermione found a burst a fire. "What you still are."

Lucius sat calmly, an eyebrow raised.

"Y-" Hermione stumbled, a hand hovering over the pocket where her wand lay stowed. "You were there. When he rose again."

"Potter told you?" He enquired, a flash of suspicion crossing his features.

"Of course."

Lucius laughed. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. The facade was falling away. This behaviour was surely all a ploy, and she had found him out. He looked at her, the smile still firm and oddly relaxed.

"One has to consider what is the safest for oneself... and one's family." His eyes were softer still. "Had I not returned when called, what do you suppose might have befallen me?"

Hermione found herself listening unwillingly. She wanted to believe there was a fine line between her and the supposed monster of a man who sat before her, but there was reason in his phrase.

"Do you really think I'm here because I enjoy teaching? Or toadying to that oaf of an undersecretary?"

His honesty confounded Hermione. She was sure he had to be trying to deceive her, but to what purpose? All Lucius was doing was exposing his own shortcomings. What could he want with her?

"I'm here because it's safe here, Miss Granger." He rose from his seat, draining his glass. Hermione made to rise, but he started to step away from her.

"I'm trapped here," he said, his velveteen back facing her. "Hiding from a twenty-years-old mistake."

He walked away a little further towards the lit fire, leaving Hermione sat alone at the far wall. She watched his silhouette go, conflicted. It was hard to make out what was going on. He turned, his face half shadowed, and his expression level.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't cause me quite so much bother in future classes, but I suppose I ought not blame you if you do."

Hermione rose from her seat and swallowed the lump in her throat.

"You may go now," he said, nodding to her. He took in a solemn breath.

She did, her mind racing with all sorts of conflicting ideas.

The door locked itself behind her. Lucius leant on the mantle above the fire, looking down into the flames. Slowly, as he lost himself to thought, a slow, wide smile returned to his face.