Author's Notes: I kept this chapter a little shorter, cutting it off where I did because Chapter 27 is going to have a lot going on. So pardon the semi-short chapter but hopefully it's still somewhat enjoyable :) Thank you for all the amazing reviews. You all are so sweet and I really appreciate each and every one of you. Your reviews get me so pumped. Thank you!

Chapter 26

"You do realize the fault in this scheme of your's, don't you?" Lucius calmly began as he stood beside the bulky wooden desk in the library. His fingertips worked at swirling a spoon smoothly around in small circles, stirring his cup of tea carefully before placing the spoon down on the tray beside it. He lifted his cup, along with another equally filled one to his left, and brought them both over to the familiar cushy sofa. Hermione accepted the cup but placed it down on the coffee table in front of her instead of taking a sip. Lucius noticed and nearly rolled his eyes at the small yet offensive action. 'Does she think I'd be foolish enough to slip something into the damned tea?' He kept his thoughts to himself. As he sat down on his end of the sofa however, he picked her cup back up and swapped it out for his own. "I don't take sugar with my tea." He warned as he took a sip from the cup originally meant for her.

Hermione blushed slightly at his blunt behavior. Though she wasn't necessarily trying to be discrete in her refusal to drink anything he had prepared for her, she wasn't fully expecting him to call her out on it so plainly. "It's fine. Thank you." As the last words left her lips, she felt herself cringe inwardly. 'Thank you? The tea, you don't trust, but him-Him! You'll thank. Priorities, Hermione…'

"You look tired." He interrupted her self-scolding thoughts and as she looked over at him, she realized he had been staring at her, examining her briefly as he spoke.

"Because I am." She confirmed. "You don't look much better." Hermione pointed out, finally bringing the cup of tea up to her lips. It was strong, as he had warned, but the amount of milk he had replaced the sugar with balanced it out well enough.

Lucius shook his head before he vocalized his response. "I didn't sleep well, as you can imagine. Yesterday's inspection, if you can really call it that, lasted much longer than I had expected."

Hermione's curiosity sparked. "I've been here during normal inspections. They weren't anything like that. Did this just start? Maybe it's new procedure that they have to follow."

In a small way, she was trying to defend Mr. Weasley for leading the inspections both yesterday and today. Lucius took notice and corrected her. "They've done this before. Not Weasley, but some other minion of the Ministry. This was back when I first agreed to the idea of rehabilitation." He leaned back against the sofa, resting his cup gently in his hand on the armrest and continued. "I'm sure you can understand, not everyone was happy to welcome me. The first week after everything was finalized and I was able to return to my home, the ministry raids began. One, every other day, for the entirety of that week."

It was an exhausting time; she could see that much written on his face as he recalled the past incidents. "What made it finally stop?" Hermione asked.

Lucius chuckled, obviously finding some sort of humor in the whole situation that Hermione seemed to miss. "My first probation hearing, believe it or not. I'm not sure if they simply got bored of tearing my home apart, or if I had somehow said what they wanted to hear, but after my first hearing was concluded and I was free to leave, the only inspections I had to deal with were of the ordinary, less intrusive sort." He motioned vaguely in her direction and added, "The kind you've witnessed. Quick in and out."

"And the items they've taken… Mr. Weasley said that they could have things hidden in them. Spells or magical properties."

Malfoy cut her off before she could ask, shaking his head firmly as he answered. "He was making an excuse for taking what he thought I valued the most. He knew that I hold my family above all else, so he had those items confiscated."

"So there isn't anything here that you're not supposed to have?" Hermione questioned.

Lucius's eyes scanned over the library's walls, its many tall bookshelves, and the various pieces of furniture that surrounded them. He raised an eyebrow as he turned his sight back to Hermione. "Nothing here, no."

She felt offended and intrigued all at once. Offended at the thought that he would dare keep anything illegal still in his home with the Ministry knocking at his door whenever they pleased, but intrigued by why. Why would he keep such things and more importantly, why was he admitting it to her? Nothing good could come of this conversation. She switched the topic entirely, trying to regain control of the conversation. "Tell me about the VRS."

Malfoy had been drinking his tea when her question was asked. His eyebrows lifted as he carefully swallowed and lowered his cup down to his lap. "You work fast. Don't want to waste any time with a little chit-chat?" He teased before nodding shortly and straightening up against the back of the sofa cushions. "Fair enough. What would you like to know?"

Hermione hesitated. What would be most important? What information would be the most valuable when she brings it back to the Order? "Who is the leader?" She finally asked.

Lucius shook his head. "I don't know."

Hermione tried again. "Well then, who are the most prominent members?"

Again, the blonde wizard gave her a flat, "I don't know," and took another casual sip of his tea.

She frowned. This wasn't giving her anything. "Is there a headquarters? Somewhere meetings are held?"

"None that I know of."

She couldn't go back to the Order with nothing, especially after stating so firmly with Malfoy that her goal with him was information, nothing more. This wasn't supposed to be like their previous chats in the library. It was meant to be one-sided and yet he wasn't giving her anything she could work with. "You're lying! This isn't how this works, Malfoy."

"I've only sworn myself to them two days ago. What information would you like me to have gathered in two days?" He shot back.

He was right. She only left the Manor a couple days ago and during his alone-time, the Ministry and Mr. Weasley have been swarming all over him. When could he have possibly had the time to do anything with the VRS? Hermione leaned back against her corner of the sofa. "I'm sorry," she stated half-heartedly. Her trained politeness made her cringe again. 'One step forward and two steps back. If you're trying to convince him that you're only here to gather information, you're doing a terrible job.' Hermione regretted her choice of words again. She had always been known for her quick wit and unwavering intelligence. The lack of proper sleep was beginning to get to her more than she thought. "I'm just tired," she mumbled under her breath.

Lucius nodded, acknowledging her words before contributing his own. "I've noticed." He looked her over again, scanning over her face. Though the bags weren't as prominent as when he first spotted her when she returned to the wizarding world, they were beginning to come back. Even her body language showed signs that she was exhausted. Her shoulders slumped slightly, just barely noticeable, and she seemed to sink back into the sofa more often than he had previously known her to do. "Your nightmares have returned?" He was still eyeing her, convinced that his observation was correct, even if she wouldn't admit to it.

Hermione nodded and clarified, "Just recently," as if that somehow made it better.

His eyes were still on her and as he watched her look away, down at the table, over at the base of one of the bookshelves, anywhere just to avoid looking over at him, Lucius tried to prod more information from her. "Tell me about them." He replied calmly, not exactly demanding or allowing force to enter his tone, but it was clear enough that he wasn't asking.

Hermione tried to brush him off. "This isn't what I'm here for. We're not playing your game anymore, Malfoy." She started to shift, almost getting up off the sofa. "If we have nothing else to discuss, then I'll just be go—,"

"No." Lucius stopped her, gently placing a hand on her arm. When she stopped, his hand remained. "No games." He slowly shook his head. She had lifted her sight and met his eyes. They wouldn't leave her, not even when he finally withdrew his hand and sat back against the cushions. "Tell me." He repeated.

She thought about telling him, spilling her guts out in front of this man just for the simple relief it would provide for her, but when she started remembering the actual nightmares, she changed her mind. He had been involved in both night's vivid images. She couldn't even guess how a normal person would react to that kind of information, let alone an ex-death eater. "You really don't want to know, trust me." Hermione warned.

Repeating her choice of words, Lucius replied, "Trust me. I do." He downed the last of his tea and placed the cup on the table in front of them. Turning back to Hermione, he tried to reassure her. "Nothing you say can shock me. Though I'm not particularly proud of what I've seen and done in the past, I can assure you that I've seen and done a lot."

That got Hermione thinking. Obviously he was talking about his time under Voldemort's command, but what exactly had he done that he thought could possibly match up with the horrors she saw in her dreams? He did have a point though. If there was anyone she could tell without either offending, scaring, or worrying, it would be him. She tried to think of how to start. The urge for bluntness seemed to stand out and she began to explain. "You were in them. Both of them," she clarified. "The first one was strange. You kept repeating yourself and I couldn't understand why. You just kept asking me how I was feeling. Someone at the door kept interrupting us and every time you went to answer it, it was a death eater- one of the ones that was here the other night." Hermione swallowed, feeling her throat go dry as the memory of the first dream filled her thoughts. "I kept trying to tell you that you were doing the same thing over and over again, but you wouldn't listen. When you went to answer the door the last time, it wasn't the death eater." Malfoy's brows rose slightly as his curiosity began to show. Hermione hesitated. She didn't want to lie about the ending, but didn't feel like he would particularly like it either. She took a deep breath and just spat it out. "It was Voldemort. You let him in and pointed at me, like you were showing him exactly where I was." Lucius frowned. It wasn't exactly as he had expected but it was understandable. "He tried to kill me." Hermione finished.

"Tried?" Lucius questioned.

"Well, I woke up before he could actually do it." Hermione elaborated.

Lucius nodded. "Well, that one's simple enough. You don't trust me, and given my previous allegiances, that would explain why the Dark Lord was the one to walk in. As for why you would have him kill you when I'm just as able has me confused." Hermione scowled down the sofa at him. He worked fast to correct his latter statement. "I meant in the dream. I thought we had already agreed that there's no logical reason for me to hurt you. If there were, do you really think you'd be sitting here right now?" He shook his head, clearly tired of having to reassure her of her safety, especially when it was so obvious. He gestured towards her with a wave of his hand. "What about the other dream?"

That one was tougher to explain. She started off the same, announcing that he was also in that one, and that they were also in the manor, but that Mimbi was guiding her to a room. When Hermione started to explain the blood and gore, the pieces of bodies, and then revealed that at least one of the bodies had belonged to her mother, Malfoy sat silent. She felt a thin glazing of tears at the base of her eyes as she explained the ring and how she had stumbled, falling down into the blood and getting it on her skin and clothes. The stank that overwhelmed the room, the stickiness as it clung to her pants, and again, Voldemort. Hermione brushed the tears away from her eyes before they could roll down her cheeks. She was done explaining, done remembering.

The blonde man sat still as stone as he ran over the dream again in his head. It was nothing like the first one, aside from the fact that himself and Voldemort were present in both, but besides that, they were entirely different nightmares. One had seemed tamer, much less visual and most importantly, it was an attack against herself. This second nightmare had very little to do with any actual physical harm to Hermione. It was centered almost solely on her mother, and by extension, her father as well. He had no way to explain it, nothing to say in response. She was waiting for his opinion, he could see it in her eyes, and even as he began to speak, he knew he was breaching dangerous territory. "Well…" Lucius hissed in a slow breath. "I've never been particularly fond of blood, to be honest."

Hermione froze. 'Did he really just say that?' She had just told him of how, in her dream, he had quite possibly murdered and chopped up her mother along with who knows how many other people, and all he could respond with, was that he doesn't like blood? She was dumbfounded. "You…what?" She asked in confusion.

"Blood," Lucius repeated with a raise of his eyebrows. "I've never liked it." He paused as his eyes darkened, drifting away from hers and instead, focusing on a random spot on the floor. "Years ago, after I had been sent to Azkaban and then broke out, Belle and I had gone somewhere to stay off the streets. We couldn't go home yet since the Ministry was still looking for us. We met up with Fenrir Greyback that night and found a place to stay that was away from any cities or neighborhoods, so it would be easier to go unnoticed. It had been muggle populated, which made things easier." When he mentioned muggles, he glanced towards her end of the sofa before quickly looking away, back down at the floor just past the small coffee table. He swallowed and went on. "There was a family in the house. It was late at night and I believe they thought we were burglars." Lucius shook his head, remembering the night as clear as day. "I assumed we were just going to petrify them and then wipe their memories before we left, but once you get Greyback and Belle together, it's hard to bring them to any sort of logical decisions." He shook his head again. This time, his eye brows creased downwards harshly as he scowled at the memory. "Belle took the woman upstairs somewhere, telling her that she loved her home and wanted to see the décor upstairs as well. It was a lie, of course." Lucius explained. "She likes to lull them into a false sense of security. She likes to play." Hermione recoiled at his choice of words. Belle had played with Hermione plenty as she carved 'Mudblood' into her arm. Hermione rubbed at the spot on her forearm as she recalled that horrible moment.

Lucius moved on. "Greyback had the children. Two boys, probably ten or eleven years old, though I couldn't say for certain. I didn't see them for very long." His hand reached up to rest his fingers against the side of his face, leaning against it slightly as his elbow pressed against the armrest of the sofa. "I did my part with the man. Believing we were only going to be there for the night, I subdued him and tucked him away in the front closet. But when I went to go find the others, Belle and Greyback had other plans." The blonde wizard dropped his hand back down and lifted his head. His voice had gone flat, monotone, and as he finished, he sounded more robotic than human. "Belle kept things relatively clean but Greyback had torn them to shreds. There was blood on the walls and in the carpet. I swore and told him that we were meant to be staying low, to not draw attention, and that his mess would surely cause more terrible than we needed." Lucius shook his head. "I couldn't tell if my words were really reaching him or not. He was still in a frenzy, excited from the bloodlust. Before I knew what she was doing, Belle shot fire from her wand and the whole room was ablaze. She laughed and had said 'Burn the mess.'"

Hermione sat stiff as a board. "That's…horrible." She finally managed to reply. What could she possibly say in response to such a terrible story?

Lucius nodded, but he wasn't through. "They ran through the house, spreading the fire. As I turned to leave the room, I saw movement from a corner. Greyback hadn't finished with one of the boys and although he had chunks taken out of him and had clearly gone into shock at that point, I could still see him breathing and shivering, despite the heat of the flames. The fire was all around him and I knew he wouldn't last, even if I did somehow try to save him." Lucius passed another quick glance at Hermione. Her eyes were wide with… 'Fear? Shock? Hatred?' Lucius wondered. He had to look away. He couldn't say the rest while she stared at him like that. "I killed him and let the house burn."

She thought perhaps there was more. Maybe he would somehow connect the story and make it come full circle. That he had missed and that the boy had lived and one day ran into him on the street. Perhaps it began to rain after they fled, saving the house and anyone who they thought to be dead, but had actually survived. But as she waited for more to be told, nothing came. Lucius remained silent, his back stiff against the cushions and his eyes fixed forward aimlessly. Hermione realized the story was over and that there was nothing left to tell. It had ended horribly and he wasn't planning on saying anything that would make it somehow end any better. "Why are you telling me this?" She asked.

Malfoy finally brought his eyes back to hers. They had changed, lightened, gone back to their normal glow and intensity. He shrugged casually and rose from the sofa to refresh his cup of tea. "You shared something with me that was private and that you've never told anyone before. I wanted to do the same." He poured more tea into his cup and began to fix it to his taste.

Hermione watched him curiously as he poured in a bit of milk, waited for it to spread and settle in the cup, before pouring in a little more and stirring. "Why didn't you tell anyone? Your wife, one of the other death eaters? Even Professor Snape. You both seemed close, from what I could tell."

Lucius brought his tea back over to the sofa and sat down. He noticed that she watched him every step of the way, keeping her eyes on him as he sat back down and placed the cup on the table. She seemed intrigued and it made him smile, if only briefly. He leaned back against the sofa and draped an arm over the back, turning towards her slightly. "I didn't tell anyone for the same reason you haven't told anyone about those nightmares. I was afraid of what they would think, how they would react. I didn't want to be treated any differently, for better or for worse."

Hermione pondered over his answer. It made sense, but something was still bothering her. "But why now, why tell me?"

"I believe, for the same reason you told me, Miss Granger. You knew you wouldn't be judged by what you've told me. You knew I wouldn't change how I view you." He smiled but when she didn't return the gesture, it gave him pause. "Am I wrong?"

At first, she wanted to say yes. She wanted to shout it at him, and tell him that of course she was judging him. The story he told had absolutely nothing to do with her nightmares, and more importantly, they were true. He had done the things he had said and for that, he could never gain forgiveness, not from her or from anyone else. Her thoughts calmed and she focused on what exactly he was asking. Would she judge him for sharing this part of him with her? She had always judged him, since the day they had met. She judged him for his hatred, for his unearned self-righteousness, and for his harsh reputation as a death eater. But would she judge him any differently now, knowing what she knows? 'Of course not. He's Lucius Malfoy. What else am I to expect from a story of his past than this? I can't judge again what I already have judged for years.' Hermione frowned at her reasoning, but she was right. But would she treat him any differently because of the story he's told? Again, no. She sighed at the sudden realization and gave him his answer. "No, you're right." She looked at the clock hanging across the room on the wall and breathed easier when she saw the time. "It's getting late. I need to get back to the Burrow or you'll have a bunch of angry Weasleys pounding on your door." She was joking of course, but she knew at least Ron would come around soon once his father told him that Hermione had been left at the Manor with the notorious blonde ex-death eater.

As she stood, Lucius rose from the sofa quickly after her. "You're welcome to stay." He smiled again and joked, "You seem to be my good luck charm, chasing the Ministry out of my home."

Hermione smiled back but declined. "If I don't get back, I'll never hear the end of it with Ron. He hates that I don't hate you." The words had left her before she could think to stop herself, and she blushed.

Lucius rose an eyebrow cockily and his smile turned quickly to a smirk. "Oh, you don't? Perhaps I'll have to spend less time persuading you into my manor next time then." Hermione rolled her eyes enthusiastically, earning a laugh from Malfoy. Their conversation did remind him though of what he had begun to say when they first entered the library that evening. "There is a problem that you're overlooking with this plan of yours." Hermione perked up. She was almost always incredibly detailed and hardly missed anything, especially when it came to helping the Order. "If you're going to be spending time with me, they're going to know that any information you give, you'll be getting from me. They may be a dull bunch, but they'll make the connection quick enough, and then the blackmail will be entirely out of your hands. I can't afford to place my trust in the Order."

Hermione thought it over quickly. She was so unpracticed in the art of blackmail that she let this little oversight completely slip by her. But before long, she was smiling again. "I won't be spending any time with you. We've had an argument tonight. You called me a mudblood and I left."

Malfoy frowned at her under knitted brows. "But I haven't…"

"But that's what everyone will think." Hermione interrupted him, explaining her plan. "They won't know I'll be coming here. They'll think I've been going to the library to study."

"Study?" Lucius questioned curiously. Had he somehow misgauged her age? 'No, surely she is of age, otherwise the Order would never allow her such standing with them.' He considered.

Hermione nodded. "Just this morning, before Mr. Weasley left the Burrow, I had told them that I wanted to continue my education and take my exams. I was studying before Mimbi came to get me. It won't raise any suspicions and well, I've always enjoyed spending hours in the library anyway." She shrugged shyly and motioned around the room. "It won't exactly be lying. Technically, I will be in a library."

Lucius laughed. "Did you just think of this now?" Hermione agreed with another one of her sweet smiles and he couldn't help but smile back. "It's no wonder you were able to best Draco in nearly every class."

"Nearly every class?" Hermione repeated quickly.

"Well, I do believe Severus was a bit bias when it came to my son." He teased. As the light mood naturally descended to a more normal atmosphere, another thought came to Malfoy's mind. "When should I expect to see you again?" The last thing he needed was for her to pop up when he was in the middle of hosting some unsavory guests, as Mr. Weasley had put them.

Hermione replied with a question of her own. "When will you be seeing any VRS members?"

He hesitated, debating whether or not to hold back. "Tomorrow night, a little after midnight." He finally spoke, though his tone had dropped off. He seemed less interested in the conversation and the more Hermione tried to meet his eyes, the more she noticed him looking away. "We haven't decided on a location yet. He said I would receive an owl an hour or two beforehand. Otherwise, it would be too easy to intercept and the ministry could use it to find him."

"Who?"

Lucius stalled again, but his eyes found their way back to hers. He tried to read into them, to tell if he could truly trust her and although his brain was screaming 'No! No! A thousand times, NO!', his mouth didn't listen and before he could take it back, he breathed out, "Draco."

Hermione apparated further away from the Burrow than usual. She had never been particularly good at lying, especially not to the Weasley's, but she knew she would have to give it her all if she had any chance of this working. Rubbing at her eyes for a few rough seconds, she was convinced they were as pink as she could get them. Dabbing them with a bit of wetness to give the illusion of tears would have been going too far, but she did also redden her nose for the same effect. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves, and began walking towards the Burrow. When her hand fell on the door knob, a few strategically placed sniffles escaped her and she closed the door behind her. Though she was correct to assume Harry wasn't home yet, the rest of the Weasley family were. Ron spotted her first. "'Mione, what's wrong?" He had been sitting in the living room with his sister.

"Nothing, Ron. Excuse me." Hermione brought her hand up to her face to rub at her eye once more, and quickly marched up the stairs to the bathroom.

"What the bloody hell was that all about?" Ron exclaimed, turning back to Ginny.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Honestly, do you boys pay any attention, ever? Who did she just go see?"

Recognition flashed over Ron's eyes as he remembered how their father had informed them of Hermione arriving at Malfoy Manor during the inspection. "That bastard! I'll kill him!"

He was already up on his feet and ready to go when Ginny brought him back down to reality. "Do you really think that'll help? She's shut herself in the loo and your brilliant idea is to become a murderer. Really, Ron. What kind of plan is that?"

"What plan?" Mr. Weasley walked into the living room from the kitchen, a plate a freshly baked cookies on a tray in his hands. He placed it down on the table beside the sofa and Ginny took one.

"Hermione's just come back." Ginny answered between nibbles.

"I'm going to kill him!" Ron repeated, this time to his father.

Mr. Weasley shook his head sadly. "I warned her about him. The day anyone can trust a Malfoy, is the day all sanity is lost." He shook his head again and asked, "What has he done?"

Ron and Ginny exchanged a silent glance at one another before Ginny shrugged. "'Don't know. She just came in and went straight upstairs. She seemed upset though."

"Like she had been crying," Ron added, sounding even more offended by whatever Malfoy had done, though he couldn't actually say what that was. Mr. Weasley hummed curiously but only looked mournfully at the stairs leading to the upper levels of the small home. "I should go talk to her." Ron said, eyeing the stairs as well.

"No, son." Mr. Weasley put a hand on his youngest son's shoulder. "Give her some space and she'll come down when she's ready."

Ginny laughed. "Yeah, Ron. You know nothing about women. You'll only make it worse."

Ron scowled at her and muttered, "Shut it!" He plopped back down on the sofa with a pout still on his face and nudged Ginny's arm. "Give me a cookie."

"I don't want to talk about it, Ron." Hermione was helping Mrs. Weasley make breakfast the following morning while Ron hovered nearby. "I made a mistake, thinking I could change him. That's all."

Hermione brought a set of fresh dishes and utensils to the table while Ron followed closely behind her. "Yeah, but I was just wondering because you were crying and—,"

"I was not!" Hermione's voice rose unexpectedly, gathering a glance or two from Mrs. Weasley. She lowered her voice purposely and repeated firmly. "I was not crying, Ronald. And I can take care of myself, thank you very much." Mrs. Weasley leaned her head out of the kitchen and called up the stairs that breakfast was almost ready. Sure enough, the rest of the family came down shortly after. "I'd rather just concentrate on my studies right now. Speaking of which, I'll be going to the library today. Would you like me to pick you up anything?"

Ron scrunched his face in confusion. "At the library? What would I need from the library?" Hermione rolled her eyes and realized she shouldn't have even asked.

The owl arrived later than Lucius had expected. He read it quickly before burning it and leaving the Manor. It was a vile hole in the wall muggle pub, filled with questionable characters, but it was the safest place they could meet. While he sat at the far end of the bar, waiting for his son to arrive, a woman had walked up to Lucius and helped herself to the seat beside him. She smelled of liquor and sex though Lucius paid her no mind, shifting his chair closer to the wall beside him. She leaned her elbow on the counter, trying to draw his attention, but still, he ignored her. It wasn't until she reached out to touch his long silver blonde hair that Lucius finally addressed her. He reached up to grab her arm by the wrist before she could touch his hair and glared at her. "I desire neither your company nor your services. Now unless you'd like to see how it feels to have six feet of dirt and worms above you, I'd suggest you take your leave." The woman's seductive smile faded as his words hit her. "Quickly." Lucius added, releasing her wrist.

The woman grimaced. "Creep." She recoiled, drawing her hand back to her body and pushed herself off of the stool away from him.

"Muggle." Lucius muttered in the same disgusted tone that the woman had used. He turned back to his drink and waved the bartender over for a second round. By the time his glass was half-empty, Lucius heard the door to the pub swing open. He drew his eyes to it, immediately spotting the tall, lean blonde man he had been waiting for. The corners of his mouth perked up slightly as Draco noticed where he was sitting and paced over. Seeing his son-his only son, it made him want to react. He wanted to call out to him and embrace him in his arms, like a father should. But they had agreed not to use names, nor titles. The muggles around them surely wouldn't recognize the name Malfoy but there was no telling just how many open ears were in the pub tonight. As Draco approached, Lucius settled for a handshake and draped his free hand over it firmly. It was the most affection he could show and though he couldn't tell if Draco noticed or appreciated the gesture, it was important to Lucius. "How have you been?" He asked as the younger Malfoy male sat down beside him.

Draco nodded and answered shortly. "Busy."

Lucius smiled. "I've heard. You look well." He examined Draco's face. It was still the smooth, baby face that he had remembered. His youth still glowed through his eyes, but the short little prickles of stubble tracing his jaw line and chin had aged him by a few years. Though he was not yet 20, the past two years had obviously hardened him. Lucius began to wonder how different Draco's life would have been had he not followed in his footsteps and joined Voldemort, and now the VRS. Would he have held on to his innocence for just a little longer? The elder blonde wizard's smile weakened.

Acknowledging his father's words only briefly with simple eye contact, Draco reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin sealed envelope with Lucius's name written neatly on the front. He placed it on the counter and slid it between them. "That's for you."

As he looked down at it, Lucius realized it was neither Draco's handwriting, nor Narcissa's, and curiously lifted it off the counter. "What's this?" He questioned and slipped his finger under the seal until it popped open. His eyes scanned over the paper once, twice, and finally three times before he folded it back up and shook his head. The smile had left him. "Is this why you wanted to see me?" He abandoned the envelope and went for his drink instead, ignoring the paper entirely. The look in his eyes darkened from disbelief, to disappointment, and then nothing was left except his wounded expectations.

Draco stiffened in his seat. "Work has to come first. You've always believed that."

"Family comes first." Lucius corrected him without hesitation.

Draco's jaw tightened and his eyes narrowed as he snapped back. "The family hasn't been your concern since you left. I've been taking care of things."

"Taking care of things?" Lucius questioned before thrusting the envelope on the counter back towards Draco. "You mean like this? You're an errand boy. Delivering damned owls and whatever else they'll have you transport next." Lucius shook his head in disgust. 'My son…no better than Wormtail was to us, and yet he walks in here with his head held just as high as ever.' The thought left an even bitter taste in his mouth than he cared to admit. 'My son,' Lucius repeated in his head.

A dark shade waved over Draco's face as he grimaced in disgust right back at his father. He shoved the envelope back at him. "I volunteered for this tonight. I wanted to see you." His eyes went cold and he slid off his stool to stand, straightening his clothes as his father had taught him to do all those years ago. Distant memories of his upbringing. "I've seen enough," Draco spat back, eyeing his father briefly before looking away. "You're just as pathetic as I thought you'd be." He turned and begin walking away, tossing over his shoulder, "I've got work to do. So do you."

Lucius was furious. He grabbed the envelope from the counter and tore it to bits. The last time Draco had spoken to him in such a tone was during their last confrontation, before Lucius decided to turn himself in to the Ministry. Narcissa had pleaded with him not to go, that it would be the end of him. She said her fill while Draco sat quietly, watching. Lucius refused and refused, trying to convince her that the Ministry's program was their only chance at a normal life. Finally, she knew she couldn't get him to stay and as he was just about ready to leave, Draco finally spoke. "You're a fool." He called out to his father. Narcissa had tried to calm the boy down, tried to shush him, but she couldn't control a young man like she once could when he was only a small child. "You'll risk bringing them to us. You'll risk our lives as well as your own, and for what? So they'll make you feel like less of an idiot for joining him in the first place? You're a bloody fool, but you won't be bringing us down with you."

They had both said a lot of hateful things that night-many uncalled for and even downright out of bounds, but Draco had inherited his father's ruthless temper as well as his knack for a sharp tongue. Harry, Ron, and Hermione had all experienced it during their years at Hogwarts with Malfoy. It had just taken all those years and just as much built up emotions for him to finally unleash it all on his father instead of his classmates.

Lucius watched as Draco strode out of the muggle pub. 'My son.' He took in a deep breath and flagged down the bartender for another drink. It would take a lot more than the two glasses he had already drank to get him through the night.

ANs: So many questions about this chapter. The envelope. What'll happen with Lucius! What about Hermione! Cliffhangers! I know! Sorry D: But it had to be done. Chapter 27 will hold all the answers! :) Let's see where it goes! Thank you for reading and reviewing. Let me know what you think!

xoxo WildBubblesRoam