A/N Hi Everyone, (waves nervously). I'm so sorry about the last chapter but it had to happen right? There's got to be some conflict to keep things interesting... To those of you who are seriously hating on Lucius right now (and how could you when he's just so hot?!) I hope this chapter goes some way to redeem him. I'd like to thank all of those who have reviewed once more but especially pgoodrichboggs, aliduck and Zeeksmom who have left me some lovely, encouraging (and only vaguely threatenting) reviews.
For those of you who like to know the lie of the land I anticipate one more proper chapter after this followed by an epilogue so we really are nearly done!
The bloody house elf hadn't shut the curtains properly. She'd had no business opening them in the first place and Lucius had told her that in no uncertain terms. She had squeaked with horror at his rage and dragged the heavy drapes closed once more, then run off, probably to iron her hands. He didn't care. Alright he cared a little, but only because he knew Hermione wouldn't like it.
A single ray of sunshine had penetrated the tiny crack between the inadequately pulled curtains and had awoken him from sleep. As if that was not sufficient insult it was also causing his head to pound, or perhaps the brandy he had consumed the night before, or earlier that day, he wasn't sure, was causing his head to pound. Anyway he knew a solution for that. Keeping his eyes closed against the obtrusive sunlight he reached blindly across the bedside table only to knock the bottle there onto the floor. He cursed loudly and rolled onto his side seriously considering sucking the alcohol from the heavy carpet. The effort of getting out of bed seemed too great though and instead he pulled the pillow over his face blocking out the sunlight and hoping for the return of sleep.
It was not forthcoming. He was convinced the pillow held the faintest trace of her scent. He hadn't changed the sheets since she had spent the night in his bed and, although they were now heavily permeated with the smell of his own unwashed body and stale alcohol, on occasion he still caught a hint of her. His memories were immediately drawn back in the same vicious circle within which they had moved for the past two weeks. Had it really been two weeks? He wasn't sure. As long as he stayed in his room with the curtains drawn and her memory still in his bed then it was almost as if no time had elapsed. The downside was that he appeared to be trapped in a single endless day with each minute more miserable than the last.
This wasn't what he had planned. Of course he hadn't planned for any of it. Not really. The first time he had fucked her there had been no plan beyond getting inside her as quickly as possible. The second and third time hadn't been any different. Then somewhere along the way he had started to think beyond his next orgasm, had allowed himself to contemplate a future which included the two of them together. He had never intended to permanently sever their tie. He had merely planned for a small public spat which would be quickly resolved as soon as Hermione was made Minister for Magic. He hadn't objected to the humiliation. Considering his life to date and the joy of being with Hermione it was a small price to pay.
He had watched her with such pride during the debate. Not since Draco had taken his first steps had he felt such fierce pleasure in the actions of another. She had been magnificent. Admittedly he had known that her mind was not entirely on the debate but it hadn't mattered. Hermione Granger at eighty percent capacity was still a head and shoulders above the dumb bastards who thought they could oppose her. He had been lost in daydreams of her great future when he had noticed her expression change as she almost dropped her water glass. It was moments later that he realised that Hermione Granger was about to sacrifice herself on an alter of his absolution. He had become a last ditch redemption project, on par with House Elves and Werewolves in the Hermione Granger list of 'people who need to be looked after'
He would not allow it. He had finally met someone with the same degree of blind faith as Lord Voldemort. The only difference was that instead of the terminal outcome of that belief being death and destruction Hermione sought to bring progress and change, No matter how ridiculous he thought her ideals it was clear that she cared for the greater good. Lucius had followed one master blindly almost to the destruction of the wizarding world. He had thought his lesson learned so he was rather surprised to discover that Hermione had unwittingly inspired a similar level of devotion. His path was clear. Hermione Granger deserved to Minister for Magic and she was about to throw it away because of misplaced affection, towards him of all people. If she would not voluntarily sever their connection then he would goad her into it.
It had been so easy, painfully easy. He was as used to concealing his true feelings as she was to showing hers, he knew how to manipulate, how to wound and he twisted his knife viciously. It hadn't taken much. Their shared past was too dark for her to have truly buried it. Her soft brown eyes had clouded then filled with fear and he had seen the exact moment when he had lost her. The moment when sleeping beauty woke up, realising someone had been in her bedroom all along and it wasn't the handsome prince. He hadn't expected her to slap him but it had been perfect, he hoped the Prophet's photographer had caught it on camera. He had returned home almost exultant, but his exuberance had faded along with her handprint on his cheek.
He wondered why her loss affected him so badly. Why his first ever truly selfless act was causing him nothing but pain. He wondered why the end of a brief relationship which neither of them had even dared put a name on was causing him more sorrow than the dissolution of a twenty-year marriage. When the wondering became too much he drank.
Eventually the call of his bladder was too strong to be ignored and he staggered into the bathroom to relieve himself. After natures' call had been satisfied he leaned on the sink, his reflection barely visible in the almost dark room. He was glad he couldn't see himself. He knew how he looked, his face gaunt and unshaven, his hair greasy, his eyes red rimmed. Rather ironically he resembled himself when Lord Voldemort had taken residence in his home. He splashed water on his face, it was time to summon Bee and demand more brandy.
A soft click alerted him to someone entering the bedchamber. He frowned, the house elves knew better than to come in without knocking. He strode into the adjoining room with something of his usual vigour before realising he was still too inebriated for such speed of movement. Slowing his pace he staggered back to the bed before looking balefully towards the door where Draco was frowning at him.
"You look like shit father."
"Thank you Draco, it's good to see you too." He lay back against the pillows blissfully closing his eyes.
Draco strode into the room, Lucius opened a single eye in order observe his son managing the gait much better than he had.
"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"
Draco ignored him pulling the drapes open fully and cranking open a window. "How long have you been in here for Father, it stinks?" He cocked his head inhaling sharply through the Malfoy nose. "You stink." He amended.
"Again, thank you." Lucius winced as the sunlight scorched his pupils.
Draco wandered around the room vanishing empty glasses, bottles and teacups.
"Have you decided to give up your career as an auror in order to become a house elf?" Lucius asked acerbically.
"I've been thinking of asking Granger out." Draco 'evanescoed' a half eaten sandwich. "I thought you could suggest a suitable activity!"
"What?"
"I know you two didn't go out much but you must have some idea of what she would like. Dinner perhaps? I could take her clubbing I suppose..."
"Draco I imagine Miss Granger is much too busy with her ministerial duties to want to go to a nightclub."
Draco frowned. "She seems to have things under control, I think she'd appreciate something fun, light hearted, you know. She must have found you a little...staid."
Lucius pinched the bridge of his nose. There were so many things wrong with his son's logic but his pickled brain could hardly string the necessary words together to reprimand him.
"Draco I think staid is probably an appropriate term for the social activities of the newly appointed Minister for Magic."
Draco snorted. "Well I'll remember that if I decide to romance Thwinge, as it is I think I'll start with Granger."
"What?" Lucius sat up straighter ignoring the pounding in his head as he stared at his son. "Hermione didn't win?"
"Of course she didn't win Father." Draco picked up the final empty brandy bottle and gave it a derisive sniff. "How much of this have you had? She didn't even stand."
Lucius stared at his son wordlessly. Draco narrowed his eyes.
"Have you been in this room for two whole weeks?"
"Of course not. I've been to the bathroom and last week I went for a walk in the grounds." It had lasted five minutes but that wasn't the point.
Draco rolled his eyes in a manner that Lucius would not have tolerated had he not been so drunk…and hungover.
"So you don't know what happened? You haven't even looked at the papers have you?"
"I find myself disinterested in current affairs at present." He said haughtily, closing his eyes once more.
Draco gave a groan. "You are an idiot father." He said in a conversational tone. "Bee." He called.
The house elf popped into the room. "Master Draco, how may Bee serve?"
"Fetch the pensive from my father's study please."
She nodded and popped out of the room. Lucius didn't deign to open his eyes.
Several minutes later he hear a soft thud as Draco laid the pensive down on the bedside table.
"What are you doing Draco?" He asked tiredly.
"Shooting myself in the foot." His son answered cryptically. "Now sit up and put your face in the bloody pensive."
Lucius sat up and attempted a snarl to which his son appeared to be immune.
"Oh for fucks sake," Draco's snarl was considerably more impressive, "just get on with it."
Lucius felt himself grabbed forcefully from behind and his face shoved into the liquid in front of him. He fell through the blackness to land on a hard tiled floor.
He scrambled to his feet, looking around him curiously. He was in a corridor in the ministry of magic. Draco and Ron Weasley strode ahead of them their aurors robes swirling around their legs. Lucius felt a flash of pride in his son as he followed them in the direction of Hermione's office. Weasley knocked on the door and he heard her voice calling for them to enter. She looked tired and her eyes were red but her face was calm, almost serene. She got to her feet and hugged Weasley before turning to Draco with a quizzical look.
"The Weaslette is in labour." His son told her. "I've come to offer my services as your wing man." She hesitated for a minute before embracing him too. Lucius' pride was quickly replaced by jealousy.
"Are you absolutely sure about this Mione?" Weasley interrupted the hug. Hermione pulled away from Draco to look at them both.
"Absolutely."
"Ok then." Weasley gave a long suffering sigh but offered her his arm. "Your public awaits you." She slipped her arm through his and extended her other hand to Draco. "Coming ferret?"
"I'm an almost fully qualified auror now Granger show a little respect." He took her hand though.
The three of them made their way along the corridor with Lucius following behind. They made their way to the ministry atrium which was filled with press and ministry workers. A small wooden lectern had been placed just in front of the statue of Harry Potter. Hermione stopped just beside it. Draco squeezed her hand before stepping away from her.
"Good luck Granger, you realise this is an incredibly Gryffindor thing you're about to do right?"
Hermione smiled, "I know, one can only hold back one's true nature for so long." She patted Weasley's bicep and went to stand behind the lectern.
The two boys stood back.
"Absolute nut job." Weasley muttered to Draco.
"Tell me about it."
Hermione applied the sonorous charm to her throat before placing her wand on the lectern and gripping its wooden sides. Her knuckles were white her face equally pale, the freckles on her nose standing out in sharp relief.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, members of the press." She smiled regally at the assembled reporters. "Thank you all for attending today. Before I make my announcement I wish to thank everyone who has pledged their support to me in the forthcoming election. I believe it says a lot about the progression of our society that so many would be willing to entrust their future to a muggle born witch. I feel privileged to call the wizarding world my home and your acceptance means a great deal to me." She paused.
"It is therefore with great regret that I must inform you that I have decided to withdraw from the ministerial election." She waited for the excited chatter generated by her response to die down. Lucius started towards her before he remembered that he was witnessing Draco's memory. She bit her lip before speaking again, her most obvious nervous tell. "I wish to apologise to the public and to Mr Lucius Malfoy." Her eyes flicked to Draco for a brief moment before she stared forwards once more. "I used my relationship with Mr Malfoy to manipulate the public to my own ends."
This sparked quite a hubbub and Lucius winced as several shouts of,
"We don't care!" and "Serves the smarmy bastard right, we'll vote for you anyway!" were heard above the melee. Once more Hermione waited for silence.
"I wish to apologise to you, the people, for my behaviour but most importantly I wish to apologise unreservedly to Mr Malfoy, my actions were dishonourable and not in the spirit of how I wish to pursue my political career or lead my life in general."
"Bloody Gryffindors." Draco muttered to Ron. "This is professional suicide."
"This is so beyond Gryffindor," Weasley hissed back, "This is classic mental Hermione."
Hermione was finishing her speech. "I would like to wish the remaining candidates good luck in tomorrow's election. I very much hope to continue serving the wizarding community in my capacity as Head of Muggle Relations. Thank you very much for your time."
She stepped away from the podium ignoring the hubbub that broke out around her. Weasley and Draco fell in on either side of her and they retreated back in the direction of which they had come. Lucius felt a hooking sensation in his stomach as he fell back out of Draco's memory.
"What the fuck was that?" He looked accusingly at Draco.
"That's what happens when you shag a Gryffindor," Draco removed his memory from the pensive and held it back to his temple. "They can play the Slytherin for so long but then something happens in the their brains and they get all noble and self sacrificing."
"But I called her a mudblood."
"I've called her mudblood several times and she still likes me."
Lucius rubbed his forehead. "I don't think the circumstances were quite the same."
Draco considered this for a moment. "Possibly not, I think if we start going out I'll make a point of not calling her that anymore. She'll appreciate the gesture."
Lucius wasn't sure whether he or his son were more surprised by his next move, he lunged forward and grabbed Draco by the scruff of his neck. "Let me make myself very clear Draco, Miss Granger is strictly off limits, do you understand me."
"Not really." Draco pulled away, straightening his rumpled robes and looking unflustered. "If she's good enough for you I don't see why she isn't good enough for me."
"She is much too good for both of us." Lucius started towards the doorway.
"Then where are you going?"
"To beg her forgiveness obviously." Lucius reached for the doorhandle only to hear the lock click. He turned back to his son. "Open the door Draco."
"Don't you think you might want to wash your hair first?" Draco gently put his arm around his father and guided him towards the bathroom, wincing slightly. "Maybe you could really push the boat out and brush your teeth too hmm?"