Chapter XVIII:

When they got back from the familiar chaos of the Weasleys, which Sally-Anne had escaped in sleep, for the first time the house didn't seem entirely homey. Of course, it was much better than the macabre Malfoy Manor, but the shadows overhanging them and the void between them had her longing for the security of a bustling hoard rather than a silent solitary companion. She turned to Draco to apologise for hiding things from him, at the same time as he murmured, "I'm sorry, alright?" She shut the gormless mouth hanging open mid-word and collapsed into a chair, exhausted from the day. "I shouldn't have been so nosey. I don't know why I'd expect you to trust me after what I've done to you."

"I-" she couldn't quite say what she wanted to. "I don't not trust you."

He guffawed but his eyes were sad. "Well, that's a start, I suppose."

She wished she could say how much she wanted to tell him the truth. Instead she just thanked him for his maturity.

As the rain poured down on a wet August day Draco taught Hermione how to play Gobstones. Apparently it was a children's game in the Wizarding World. He was trying to teach her as many as possible before the baby arrived, not wanting her to raise his heir on muggle games, of course. He didn't warn her that when she lost the game gloop would explode all over her! "Draco!" She shrieked, wiping it away from her hand with a wide swipe across her face. "Why would I subject my child to this?"

"Because it's classic fun!" He argued, avoiding laughter only with visible effort. "Unless you're not a real witch..." She chucked the green stuff at him instead of onto the floor, cackling like Parkinson at the way it slid off his face, leaving it sticky. "Someone's clearly a sore loser," he observed in a holier than thou tone.

She shrugged. "Maybe I just don't want you to miss out on all the fun!"

Their day was interrupted, as ever, by the arrival of a grey owl. Hermione swallowed hard, but it was for Draco, not her. No matter how much she might want to peer over and read it, that would have been incredibly hypocritical. She wrapped her hands around the undersides of the chair, clinging on for something to do. Her interest only piqued as she watched her husband's face screw up in surprise and then disgust. "Interesting post?" She asked casually.

He pushed the letter across to her. "It's Theo. He's a damn genius at charms and my father knows it. He's trying to recruit him to make new time-turners, this time ones that would allow him to travel back for longer than five minutes."

"What?" Hermione grabbed the letter, but it provided little more answers than Draco had summarised. "Why would your father be so desperate for a time-turner? How would he even do that?"

"I can think of any number of sinister reasons..." he mused. "My guesses are probably all wrong. My father is the quintessential Slytherin."

She glanced at the letter again. "Oh Godric..." he could do anything with something that powerful in his hands. He could make sure they were never paired up. He could kill her. And it would mess everything up in the process. But he wouldn't get to. Because now they knew. The perfect leverage. The snake had made one cocky misstep too far in trusting that Theo would be more ambitious than fraternal to his long time friend. A smile threatened to spill across her face, so she had to fake a cough and turn her head. Time to get writing.

Dearest Father-in-Law,

Wasn't it wonderful that you steered clear of Azkaban for a second time? I would hate to see you go back for even the smallest of crimes now that so many in the Ministry would love to see you crumble. I suppose illegal time turners would qualify? Don't worry, I'll stay quiet, even to Draco and Narcissa about our past 'agreement'. I know how difficult your short time in prison was on them, but they're not my main worry. If I have to, I'll gladly see you off to a dark cell and support your family with my own up-and-coming career. You don't want that though, do you? All you have to do to avoid it is back off. We return to the deal you made with Draco and I, so that he never knows. Your welcome for the kindness of even giving you that.

Hoping the day finds you well,

Hermione Jean Malfoy

She hoped the last name was like a final stab in the gut. The mudblood bint who was sullying his noble name, using her brains to defeat him. Let him suck on that.

Lucius was still waiting for a reply from Nott Jr. His old schoolmate's son was certainly talented, but his skills at replying quickly were not so admirable. Oh well, he could wait. Things were going better than ever for him. Sure, he'd soon have a half-breed creature for a grandchild, but it would get him back into society. Meanwhile he'd be developing the mechanism to let him go back and fix a few little things. He wasn't an idiot, he knew he couldn't make hugely substantial changes, but small things could add up to paradise. "Ah," he smirked in a way that mirrored his son's iconic one. Here was the owl. It dropped a letter into his hand, then bit him on the finger. Letting out a surprised yell, Lucius swatted angrily at the disgusting vermin, cursing it under its breath as it squawked away into the night. Honestly he'd always preferred contact through the Floo Network, no need to deal with those pesky wretches. So many wizards seemed to love them though. Anyway, here was the ticket to his future. Victoriously, he ripped open the seal and yanked out the letter, but his face fell and his blood boiled as he read the words. That mudblood bint.

AN: Haha. Sorry this is so short but it's pretty satisfying, amiright?