I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters; J. K. Rowling does. In addition, I do not make any profit from this fanfiction. I would like to thank Glorioux, Lima Bean and Valady – my brilliant betas. A special thanks goes also to my consultant Ignaty.

To Be a Woman

Chapter Twenty

Ain't No Sunshine When She's Gone*

"No!" shouted the wizard as he delivered a final, powerful and altogether useless kick to his Floo's unyielding marble mantel.

It took only a moment for him to be wholly consumed by a violent rage. All that followed was engulfed in its blinding, white-hot haze. For hours, Lucius surged through the Manor like a roaring, furious wave of destruction, sweeping and destroying everything in his way, until at last, he reached his private chamber. Blasting the door out of the way and fully intending to resume his violent destruction, he stepped inside. However, as his eyes came upon his silk covered bed, he suddenly came to a halt.

His bed was the epitome of luxury – finely carved cherry headboard, elegantly draped and pillowed with satins and silks. And yet, its enticing, inviting softness was spoiled by its utter emptiness. That gaping emptiness lashed at Lucius, freezing him with the ice-cold reality – he was alone. Violent shivers began to prickle down his spine, and he drew a shuddered breath. The rage that was coursing through his veins abated, robbing his body of its destructive force and leaving behind only exhaustion and despair.

With difficulty, Lucius forced himself to walk further into the chamber. Standing in the middle of the room, he couldn't tear his eyes from the bed. There, at that moment, an epiphany struck him. He hated this – this void, this black hole of nothingness around him. He hated his empty Manor, his empty life and his empty heart. For seven years, he was alone, and he bloody loathed every shitty minute of it. There, in front of him, in all its abominable glory, stood his reality – his empty bed. In mere seconds, his ingenious plan, all his manipulations and games, all his reasoning about an heir, connections, and power – all of it turned into complete and utter bullshit.

Somewhere along the way, while Lucius was spinning his diaphanous web and making his intricate moves, he fell in love with the bright-eyed, witty witch. He didn't notice how her constant cooing, her warm smiles and girlish giggles, became a part of his world. Neither did he notice how easily she managed to warm his cool heart and how entirely she filled the emptiness around him. Little by little, indiscernibly, she changed him into a believer, and taught him to love.

"Damn it!" cursed the wizard. He had come so close to a second chance for his happily-ever-after. He was almost there, and he had managed to ruin everything. A patch of paper, a short note of only ten lines was all that was left. Everything else had burned to ash or turned to dust, and he was at fault... again.

Sinking into the armchair and gazing with disgust at his bed, Lucius took Hermione's letter from his pocket. The crumpled parchment, which he almost destroyed in his fury, still held Hermione's youthful, summery scent. As the light fragrance reached his nostrils, he covered his face with his palms and groaned helplessly. He needed more than the lingering presence in the air. His heart, his mind, his body and every fibre of his being yearned for her. There just had to be a way to bring his little witch back.

The ring, bolted through his mind. She didn't send back the ring!

"Wrinkly!" called Lucius with urgency. Unable to remain calm, he stood up and began to pace the room nervously as he waited for his servant to come. When the elf finally appeared on the threshold, Lucius asked, "Did Hermione send anything else except the letter?"

"No Master, Lady Hermione sends the letter, nothing else," the elf shook his head. "Nothing else, Master."

"Good. On your way now." Lucius gestured to his house-elf to leave. The elf bowed and left.

Lucius sat down and looked at the parchment again. For a few moments, he blankly stared at Hermione's neat handwriting. When at last he gathered enough composure to reread the letter, he carefully considered every word. The fact that Hermione didn't send back the ring did stir a shadow of hope in his soul, as did her note's last phrase."Time to think", muttered Lucius. Maybe, there still was some way to solve this.

However, as Lucius' eyes returned to the place where a 'certain friend' was mentioned, he growled. There was no doubt in his mind who that certain friend was. "Severus," hissed the blond wizard dangerously as he sprang up. A moment later, he Disapparated to face his one time friend.

Camaraderie

It was quarter after eleven. Severus Snape sat in his library and for the second evening tried to read his beloved, vintage book.

Narcissa's visit the night before had evoked an array of troubled thoughts and emotions in our Potions master. It had taken him a considerable part of Friday night and Saturday morning just to get rid of most of them, to sort out the rest, and return to his usual, well-composed self. Although, Severus had to admit that disturbing pictures of Hermione with Lucius still occasionally flashed in his mind. Perhaps, mused the wizard as he let his eyes slide over the library's bookshelves, it would have been beneficial for him to accept Narcissa's invitation. He trusted that the blonde witch would undoubtedly be able to dash those unsanctioned images and abhorrent jealousy from his mind.

Yes, decided Severus, I will owl Narcissa sometimes next week. Satisfied with his idea, he returned his attention to the old book's weathered pages.

Alas, a quiet evening with a book wasn't destined to happen. A loud sound of Apparition forced Severus to close the book urgently and spring up from the armchair. "Oh, bollocks, what now?" he growled. After the previous night's surprise visitor, Severus honestly didn't know what else to expect. He wasn't left wondering for too long though, because in the next instant a furious, and uncharacteristically dishevelled, Lucius Malfoy invaded his library.

"Where is she?" shouted the blond wizard, bursting across the library's threshold, and advancing toward Severus with alarming speed.

His violent facial expression didn't bear anything pleasant and thus, our Potions master duelling skills kicked in instantly. His wand flew into his hand automatically, as he took a defensive stance and trained it on the intruder. However, Lucius all but ignored the piece of wood pointed at him and continued to move toward Severus, trying to get a hold of his throat. He looked wild, positively mad. His customary inscrutable, calm demeanour was replaced with an enraged, twisted grimace. "Where is she?" he shouted. "Is she here with you? I'll kill you, you bastard!"

The only thought that came to Severus' mind at the sight was that his ex-friend had totally lost his mind. There was no other explanation for this sudden, unprovoked and thoroughly preposterous assault. Not seeing any other options, Severus blasted the crazy wizard into the opposite wall with a non-verbal spell. However, that didn't stop Lucius, and a moment later he was on Severus again, yelling and ripping his shirt's collar.

This time, the Potions master lost his patience and shouted back, "For Merlin's sake, who are you talking about, Lucius? There is no one here, so get off me, you bloody idiot!"

That had finally done it. Lucius released Severus' shirt and stepped back. An angry red colour slowly drew from his face, as an understanding dawned on him. With a low groan, he sank into the nearest armchair. "Hermione," whispered Lucius hoarsely, "she is here with you, is she not?" His red-rimmed eyes focused on black haired wizard.

Severus regarded his ex-friend carefully. He hadn't seen him in such distress for years, since Draco's abrupt departure, to be precise. Thoughtfully, he took in Lucius' appearance – his tangled hair, his bloodshot eyes, his rumpled clothes. Severus could assume a nasty case of jealousy, of course. Yet, there was something else in his face, something more. Desperation, identified Severus. Oh, yes, everything became crystal clear. His overly crafty and sly fellow Slytherin had fallen into his own trap. Lucius Malfoy had fallen in love.

Believe me, my dear readers that it took quite a lot of our Potions master's self-control not to laugh openly, although a pleased smirk still made its way to his thin lips. Welcome to the club, Lucius, thought Severus snidely.

There, at that moment, our Potions master could have had his ultimate revenge. The situation was perfect, brilliant even. It was obvious that something went awry in the grand manipulator's plan. Oh, it would have been only too easy – to kick Lucius' in the guts now, to finish him off with a few strategically delivered blows. They even were already on his tongue's tip, those witty insults. He almost said them, almost…

Severus didn't know what caused him to stop. Was it the pained, utterly lost look in Lucius' grey eyes? Perhaps it was his rumpled shirt with a few gaping holes and missing buttons. Severus shivered involuntarily. There was something eerie in those missing buttons, something so awfully unlike Lucius. Maybe, it was those dark shadows under Lucius' eyes. But the sharp, hurtful words never left his mouth. Instead, Severus sat down and said calmly, "She is not here, Lucius. The last time I saw Hermione was at her last presentation at the Manor."

The blond wizard uttered a low, guttural moan and covered his face with his hands.

"What happened?" asked Severus.

Lucius fished the crumpled parchment from his pocket and gave it to him. Severus glanced at the note, recognising Hermione's hand immediately. He quickly read the short ten lines and refocused his attention on Lucius. "Do you love her?" he asked him, remembering only all too clearly how Lucius had tauntingly asked him the same question a mere ten days ago.

Lucius frowned and his lucid eyes narrowed with suspicion, but after a short contemplation, he rasped, "Yes," and fell silent for a while. After a few minutes, he began in a hoarse mutter again, "She said yes.Severus. I asked her to marry me, and she said yes. I took her to Italy. Everything was perfect, perfect. She is gone now, and I cannot draw a breath without thinking of her. I want her back, Severus. I need Hermione. I love her, yes, I love her. Help me, Severus. You need to help me."

Even though Severus did acknowledge that the blond wizard was inadequate at the moment, these words still forced him to jump up as anger began to rise in his heart. "Have you gone completely mad, Lucius? Do you truly believe that I will help you, after you undertook nefarious efforts to steal her from me, you, slimy, arrogant git?" he hissed, menacingly into Lucius' face.

Lucius, however, didn't even flinch. He just simply nodded and said, "Yes." Then he drew a heavy sigh and continued, "I love her, Severus. Please, help me to get her back. I will beg, if you want me to do so. Nothing matters, Severus. I have no pride left. I cannot fail for the second time."

Severus uttered an exasperated huff, muttered, "Why I am not surprised?" and sank back into the armchair. For a while, the two wizards sat quietly, both deeply engulfed in their thoughts. "Did you try to contact Hermione?" Severus finally broke the silence with a question.

"She blocked her Floo against me. I imagine that she warded her flat against me as well. I wonder who that friend she mentioned in the letter could be. I was sure it was you, Severus." A dangerous fire lit up Lucius' face. "Is there someone else?"

Severus chuckled and answered, "I think I know exactly who that certain friend is, Lucius." He stood up and called, "Casimir."

Not even a second later, a skittish looking house-elf appeared on the threshold. "Master calls Casimir?"

"Yes, Casimir, I did. Tell me, when was the last time you saw Hermione?"

Casimir fidgeted under the inquisitive glare of his Master but didn't answer.

"Answer me, Casimir. When was the last time you saw Hermione?"

"Today, Master. Casimir sees Hermione today," at last squeaked the elf, and began to twist his ear nervously.

With a roar, Lucius dashed toward the elf, his wand already in his hand, "You, stinking, little…"

"Lucius, stop. I won't be able to help you if you harm my elf. Though I am not quite sure who would harm who in that fight." That sarcastic remark stopped Lucius in his tracks, and Severus turned to his elf again. "I am extremely displeased with you, Casimir. You had no business meddling with humans' lives. I will decide later how to punish you, but for now, you will start with transporting Lucius to Hermione's flat. Is that clear?"

Casimir began in his squeaky voice, "But, Master–"

"If I was you, Casimir, I would stop talking now," dangerously growled Severus. "Lucius, are you ready? Casimir will go with you. I think his presence might be helpful in your quest."

Lucius stepped closer to Casimir, but paused and faced Severus. "We need to go together, Severus. You love her as well. I know that. Hermione might still love you. We need to give her a choice."

Severus arched his eyebrow, "And if the witch chooses me, Lucius, what will you do then?"

Lucius' breath hitched, and his face turned ashen. But he continued, "Then that would be that. I need to know, Severus. We need to go together. Please."

Seriously doubting his blond friend's preparedness to give up that easily, Severus crossed his arms on his chest and kept his face blank. He needed a minute to think. Slowly, his whole affair with Hermione flowed in front of his eyes. "Very well, Lucius." Severus nodded to his servant. Casimir took their hands in his little, wrinkly ones, and a moment later two wizards and the elf disappeared.

He Loves Me… He Loves Me Not…

For the last half an hour, Hermione had been staring at Lucius' ring. She was so bloody angry with the man, and yet, she just couldn't bring herself to take the blasted thing off her finger. Thus, the ring stayed and was now arrogantly winking at her with its sparkly, emerald eye.

Hermione drew an exhausted sigh. Earlier today, she had felt so content, so at peace with her decision to marry Lucius. It had felt right, and she simply refused to overanalyse the situation. Oh well, my dear readers, we know quite well that life had done it for her. This time, it had chosen Casimir as its tool.

Troubles had started even before Severus' elf had appeared in Hermione's flat. There had been two letters from Kingsley Shacklebolt waiting for Hermione in her mail. One of them was a formal notification from the Minister, in which she was informed about the overwhelming success of her initiative. The following letter was an informal one, in which the wizard had taken upon himself to suggest that now, as she had become a political figure, she should choose her acquaintances more carefully. Sure enough, that had caused the witch to fume instantly, and the letter had been crumpled and thrown into the wastebasket rather violently.

Of course, that had been only the beginning. A short while later Casimir had surprised Hermione by his sudden appearance in her living room. Apparently, the prudent creature had known about her return due to the charms he had put on her flat. The little elf had begun his longwinded tale by apologising for his master's behaviour.

At first, after Hermione had listened to Casimir's story and had looked at the memories the little elf was only too happy to show her, she had become livid. An acid ire had filled her up to the gills, ruining, burning out the wonderful, magical feeling of happiness. She had felt betrayed, manipulated, used. And so, she had acted hastily. On a whim, she had written a letter and had blocked the Floo. However now, hours later, Casimir was long gone, and our witch couldn't help but keep thinking about Lucius, Severus, their actions and her feelings. Everything was so devilishly tangled and confusing – it was maddening.

Her wrath was aimed at both wizards. Lucius, of course, remained a primary target because of his underhanded ways. He had lured her to him with his cunning manoeuvres and had built their relationship on lies. Even so, even in the midst of her rage, Hermione couldn't forget their moments together. The images kept popping up in her head – Lucius listening to her, Lucius explaining to her the hidden undercurrents of politics and so on. Ironically, he had been the cause of her first presentation's fiasco, and he was the reason that she was so much stronger and knew so much more about politics now. Then, there were fresh and vivid memories from Italy. She couldn't just erase from her mind their talks, their laughs, the way he had treated her there, the way his lips had trembled when he had asked her to marry him. For Merlin's sake, the man had almost confessed his love to her today. Was it all a lie? Hermione drew another heavy sigh – the blond snake did actually manage to slither under her skin.

On the other side of the coin, there was Severus. And, oh God, was she mad at him as well. He didn't lie, nor did he manipulate. Still, Hermione just couldn't understand the wizard. If he truly loved her – as Casimir had been trying to convince her – why had he given her up so easily? Why hadn't he been there for her, by her side? Why hadn't he confessed his love to her? Why hadn't he fought for her? Why had he had instead chosen to cruelly hurt her? Their romantic moments had been passionate, scorching hot, and had never failed to leave her breathless. However, there had been a complete, and extremely infuriating, lack of understanding beyond the bedroom. He had never made it clear how he had felt about her. He had never told her whether he loved her or not, whether he saw a future with her.

Ughh, growled Hermione. She felt so utterly lost and conflicted about those two wizards. Maybe she just should forget all about them and find herself a fine young bloke. Hermione gazed at the ring on her finger again. She needed to think, and she needed to think hard. She had to decide what she wanted, whom she wanted, and whom she truly loved. This was paramount.

A loud, violent crack cut short Hermione's preoccupation. She lifted her head and exclaimed in surprise, "Casimir!" Then, somewhat hysterically, she added, "What on Earth are you two doing here?"

* Bill Withers/Ain't No Sunshine

Here we go my darlings. We finally arrived to a pivotal moment of our story. Our girl will need to decide… You are welcome to help her to do so – a new poll is on my profile.

Please review, my darlings. Thank you. Savva.