~*~The Feather~*~

Hermione had left Peter at the Ministry, where he was going to continue working until sometime late in the night. She had her own job ahead of her. She had expected the wards to be against her and it proved to be the correct thought as she approached the property. It threw off little stinging jolts when she tested her toes along its edge. She couldn't break through and neither did she want to, she wanted to be let in.

The peacocks were still milling about and the breeze that had been little more than a breath was now strong and indecisive. It pulled at her skin as she hadn't worn a thick coat, rather a light jacket and she wondered how she could go about getting them to at least come talk at the gate, if not to let her in.

She didn't have to wait too long as when she had paced by the barrier for the fourth time, the front door opened and Draco stepped out. She saw that he was creeping, quickly, across the path to the gate with glancing eyes that watched the house behind him. He was wearing something heavily influenced by muggle clothing, though with its own magical flair. The pants were black and green plaid as was the vest over the black shirt he wore, but over all was a lightweight wizard's robe. He wasn't wearing shoes.

"Hermione?" He asked, opening the gate.

"Hey, Draco." She came closer, but halted at the stinging sensation.

"Do you think we're better already?" He leaned against the metal and she took a step back from the stinging ward.

"Maybe after I come inside?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm sorry about that." He flicked his wand in a certain pattern and she felt the ward ease so she could join him by the gate. "Mother made sure you wouldn't be able to enter again...well, unless I was around at the time." He tapped his temple with his wand, then stowed it away. "Why are you back so soon? Not that I'm complaining, of course."

"I found out something...really I'm not sure why I didn't just do this before." The sun was on its way down and the sky had begun to darken. She started off towards the large manor, clutching the parchment Lucius had given her. "I found Mister Wileaux."

"Really? Did he give you the wand?"

"No...but he gave me something better. Can you go get your mother?"

Draco hesitated. "I don't think that's the brightest idea. She did just kick you out this morning."

They were now standing back inside the parlor and Hermione found a seat with both access to exits and a wide view of the room. She supposed Lucius would have sat here if he had guests.

"It's very important that she be here."

"Well, I would try not to rile her. I'm not sure how you'll manage to get back to Potter if she gets too furious." He shed his outer robe and rolled up his sleeves.

"Hopefully what I have to say will be a shield for me." Hermione sighed and found a comfortable way to sit that would also allow her to reach her wand if necessary. During the war and the hectic time after, she had made a pocket in the thigh of her pants to be a wand holster, which Harry had then spread across the Auror Department. She angled that thigh for a cautious reassurance.

"What is she doing here?" If Hermione leaned slightly, she could see Narcissa coming down the stairs with a slow, angry pace, her face slowly becoming a mask of fury.

Draco was beside her, his arms crossed. "Mother, could you pretend to be aloof to her? Your malice is making it hard to breathe."

"Mudbloods hardly deserve my best lies, Draco. She decides to make herself a nuisance and I decide to allow her the truth. It's tiring to pretend we have anything to be civil over."

"Mother, stop this." Draco was now behind the woman and he met Hermione's eyes. Narcissa stomped somehow elegantly into the parlor and opened her mouth to spew what Hermione guessed was more insults.

"I have something for you from Mister Wileaux." She held out her hand, the parchment presented in offering.

"A piece of paper?" She scoffed, her chin rising in haughty anger. "Mudbloods have no sense of decency."

Frustrated, Hermione stood and dropped her hand to her side. She met the woman's eyes strongly, which garnered a curious expecting glare in return.

"Look, the only thing about my blood that resembles mud is your perception of it. Truth be told, with all the inbreeding and incest, one would assume purebloods were actually muddled, not muggleborns. And besides," she continued. "If there was a single thing different between my blood and yours, don't you think at least one of the brilliant wizarding minds would have found irrefutable evidence a long time ago?"

It was quiet for a moment and Hermione lifted her hand again. "I didn't come here to argue over blood or make you believe I care anymore what you think of me. I came to give you this and leave you in peace. So if you could attempt to see something other than an inferior being in front of you, this paper is for you. It might explain something, I suppose."

Narcissa's glare had lessened and she pursed her lips as she delicately removed the parchment from Hermione's hand. The woman unfolded the message and caught a pale white feather as it fluttered out of the middle. She gazed at the feather with heavily saddened eyes, then refocused on the words. Hermione had learned to read lips for court proceedings and interviews, because sometimes people said the most important things without making a sound. She followed Narcissa's as she read to herself.

"Dearest Wife,

As you know, from times countless before, there is little of love one can send through ink and parchment. I hear from Miss Granger that my ruse has done the worst and struck you as it was meant to strike my enemies and I cannot help but feel horribly cruel for having let it. You know how I worry about you and Draco...and I thought my absence would ease the trouble my presence caused.

Four years I have lived in some idealistic notion that all would be simple for you without me. I surmise I thought of your love for me as less than my love for you and gave over to the idea that you were better off on your own. Oddly, I find I love you more for the anguish Miss Granger says I caused you.

I guess I mean something to you after all.

How foolish I've been. Well, my love, I wouldn't want you to linger in sorrow on my account. I live. Now let me hope you aren't crying over me. Your smile has always been more beautiful than your tears.

L."

The pureblood woman stepped back and happened to land securely on a plush couch. She was crying, Hermione could see and smiling as well. At first she seemed pleased, then terrified, then she pressed the letter to her lips and then over her heart. Draco sat beside his mother and she pulled him close.

"He's alive. He tricked us all, but he's alive." Narcissa had never looked so happy, not as far as Hermione could recollect.

Draco pulled away, frowning and gazing back and forth between his mother and Hermione.

"Who's alive?"

"Your father."

"He's living under the guise of Mister Wileaux. Narcissus Wileaux." Hermione added, softly.

Narcissa chuckled. "Foolish, indeed."

Draco smirked and if one looked close enough, his eyes teared up. "Then who died yesterday?"

"Alden Brighton."

The two on the couch began to laugh and Hermione realized she had never seen them so human before. Well, Draco perhaps, but Narcissa had always been distant, even when she broke a little to talk about her son. The moment when Narcissa thought her husband dead had been one exception, though.

"Wonderful!" Narcissa muttered, then she stood and hurried back up the stairs.

"Mother, where are you going?" Draco seemed in a good humor.

"I'm going to get dressed, then I'm going to slap your father very hard." Narcissa's voice echoed down the stairs and into the parlor. Draco laughed all over again.

A/N: Sorry that I didn't update sooner, but the thing I love as much as writing finally came out Tuesday. So Ezio, Altair and Desmond may have my time more often until the end credits. How I love them all, though Ezio is beginning to look like his uncle Mario as he gets older. Meh, I love it anyway. Also, BubblyRose23, I would say that Aurora does, in her own little way, but as you said it is one-sided. I would think she would remind him of Maggie sometimes and besides, he sees her as more of a sister or a daughter. And I'm glad you decided to check out my story!

Thanks for reading and as always, please review! Tickle2Kill