Author's Notes: First and foremost, a big thank you for all the incredibly kind reviews I've received recently. I'm not sure where some of you folks are coming from, but I'm more than happy to have you here! I'll try to make your stay worth while :) Slightly longer chapter this time around. I was going to split it into two but decided against it. Anyway, I'll keep the rambling to a minimum. Enjoy!
Morning came too soon. Their meeting at the ministry had been scheduled for three o'clock, giving Harry just enough time to enjoy his first night as a married man along with the added bonus of a few hours of solid sleep. "You really should have waited until next week to ask for this little get-together. Harry's supposed to be on his honeymoon right now, not working." Hermione advised the blonde wizard as they sat at the intimately-sized luncheon table. Though it had been long since forgotten in one of the many unused rooms of the Manor, Hermione dragged it out and dusted it off a couple hours prior. When Lucius suggested they eat a light lunch before they leave, she had agreed, but to use the oversized black table that sat stiff and heavy in the dining room seemed ridiculous for only the pair of them. So out came the quaint, antique table for two.
Lucius refused to allow it in the formal dining hall, claiming it would ruin the aesthetics of the room. So with the aid of her wand, Hermione levitated the small table down a long hallway until she finally found the perfect room. It was different from the others. Placed in the back of the manor and lined with tall, floor to ceiling windows, sat an almost entirely bare space. There were a few filler items scattered around, a stray lounge chair here, and a misplaced china cabinet there, but beyond those, the abandoned room was empty. It was the perfect spot, Hermione had decided, and dropped the table and its accompanying pair of chairs right in front of a window.
Their lunch had been eaten and their drinks were drank, leaving their small table bare as they discussed any and every topic that came to mind. As Hermione mentioned Harry, Lucius replied flatly, "It was now or never. I don't make these decisions lightly."
"Should we arrive together?" Hermione asked as her eyes peered idly out one of the windows to the back gardens. The grounds to the Manor were well-kept and manicured, but dull in all sense of the word. The bushes were plush and cared for, but without an excess splash of colors to break up the bland greens and browns, it seemed too institutional. She wondered silently if he would be opposed to her and Mimbi taking shovel and hoe to the sad excuse of a garden, if only to liven it up a bit.
Lucius hesitated as he considered their options. "I suppose it would be best for us to meet there separately. At this point, I wouldn't disregard the assumption that there could be eyes everywhere beyond these walls. I wasn't exactly welcomed with their complete trust and hospitality at the last V.R.S. meeting I attended." His face had paled at the recollection of that night. He had been terrified, for his son, for his own life, and for hers. Now that the war had progressed and their forces strengthened, they were only bound to become more unpredictable, more dangerous with each passing day. Lucius followed her eyes out to the gardens and tried to imagine what this day would hold for them had peaceful times remained after Voldemorte's fall.
"I'll go first. Wait ten minutes, then leave for the Ministry. We'll meet outside the Minister's office." Hermione instructed.
"Fifteen minutes, and you'll come second. They're not expecting you. I don't want to shock them so badly that they refused to hear what I have to say." Lucius replied sternly. "Have Mimbi apparate you from the Manor. You won't be able to do so safely on your own on account of the wards. I'll have her summoned before I leave."
They rose from the table and embraced. He felt safe beside her, wanted, and as he dipped down to taste her lips one more time before his departure, she reached up to meet him halfway. "See you soon."
Time dragged and as Mimbi finally appeared by her side with a faint pop, Hermione was more than ready to leave. The skinny little elf grinned happily as she took the witch's hand. "Miss Granger comes back?" Her eyes seemed hopeful, filled with light and still as she stared sweetly up at Hermione.
The witch nodded. "I'll be back, don't worry." With the simple promise of her return, Mimbi was beyond thrilled. The frail, childlike house elf smiled at the witch one last time before apparating them both to the Ministry's entrance.
The Ministry was a busy mess of witches and wizards crisscrossing from this office to that, a swarm of wizarding professionals as they went on with just another typical day at work. Hermione wondered if any of them would stop her and question her reason for being there. Would it be safe for her to say she was meeting the Minister? She wasn't sure, keeping her head down as she made her way to Kingsley's office further past one of the long, narrow hallways.
Lucius was standing tall and proud a few doors down from their final destination. His hands were crossed behind his back, his long black walking stick dangling loosely between his fingers, just barely floating a few millimeters above the floor. She greeted him with a warm smile, entirely platonic in appearance, though the few workers that were nearby seemed to be too buried in their work to notice the pair of them. "You arrived safely, I see." Lucius commented, a subtle smile slipping past the tightness of his lips to travel up to his eyes before fading away, back to his most professional, stone expression.
Hermione nodded. "We're early." She began to wonder if they should wait elsewhere, or simply go knock on the office door and see if Kingsley and Harry were already there.
"Only by a few minutes. It shouldn't be a problem." Lucius replied confidently. He wanted to reach out for her hand, if only for the feel of it, but his years of self-control while under Voldemort's command had trained him well enough to know better. Body language spoke volumes louder than any words ever could. His back stayed rigid as he kept his feet planted well away from hers, leaving their arms with absolutely no chance of any accidental contact. He would make up for the distance later when she could writhe and moan beneath him without the fear of exposure threatening them both. "After we're through here, do you have any plans for the evening?"
"I should make at least a brief appearance back at the Burrow." Though she hadn't said so, she was beginning to prefer the calm and quiet of the Manor to the constant full-house feel of the Burrow. They were her friends and in a way, her family, but the lack of privacy versus the relative freedom of the Manor was no comparison. "I'll say the house felt too crowded after the party, so I took up in a room at the Leaky Cauldron instead."
Lucius nodded and added casually, "I appreciate your company."
Hermione grinned. She couldn't tell if he was referring to her coming to the Ministry with him, or if he meant her company in a more general sense of the term. Then of course, there was always the possibility that his thoughts fell deviously to their more provocative activities behind closed doors. For the sake of dignity and saving face against any potential eavesdroppers, Hermione agreed just as nonchalantly, "Thank you, Lucius. Likewise."
A door opened further down the hallway behind them as Kingsley and Harry made their way towards the pair. Lucius spotted them first, giving her a warning glare as he waiting for them to approach. Hermione drew in a breath. As far as Harry last knew, she hated Lucius. 'This should be interesting...' she thought with a silent groan.
"Thank you for agreeing to see me under such short notice, Minister," Lucius nodded respectfully at Kingsley before turning to Harry. "Mr. Potter, it's good to see you've recovered accordingly from the busy weekend. Congratulations and my best wishes to you and your wife." He was putting on the charm, though he knew it wouldn't impress either of them. They hadn't taken their eyes off of Hermione until Lucius had begun speaking, and even then, their eyes kept darting back over to the witch by his side. He would need to redirect them if he wished to gain anything at all from this meeting. "I believe your office is just down the corridor, is it not, Minister?"
Kingsley's face had been stern, brows sharp over his eyes as his suspicions to Hermione's presence ran wild in his head. At Malfoy's less than subtle prodding, he seemed to snap out of it, at least temporarily, nodding and answering quickly, "Yes, of course. Right this way." The Minister escorted them to his office, only to hesitate beside the door. "Miss Granger, there's a waiting area just around that corner." He motioned further down the hallway.
"Actually, she'll be sitting in." Lucius interjected, an eyebrow twitching upwards as he explained, "Moral support."
Hermione nodded. "I won't be a bother. You won't even notice I'm there."
The Minister glanced over at Harry silently before turning to Malfoy. "Unfortunately, due to the sensitive material that may be discussed, I'm afraid that won't be possible."
"I have no issues with Miss Granger being present." The blonde wizard disagreed. "She can hear anything I have to say."
Kingsley apologized with a soft shake of his head, correcting his wording. "Sensitive material for the ministry." He shifted his gaze to the witch among them. "I'm sorry, Hermione, but we've been forced to play things fairly close to the chest from now on. Current events have pushed us to raise security measures, as I'm sure you understand."
Hermione bit at the inside of her cheek, debating whether to stand her ground and demand her spot in the room, or to hold her tongue for the sake of all fairness given to Lucius during the meeting. With one final pleading glare at Harry, she realized his hands were as tied as hers in the matter. "If you have any questions, or need my input, I'll be right outside this door." She promised, her eyes shifting between Harry and Lucius equally.
Harry nodded and agreed. Lucius thanked her and gave a comforting smile. "Don't worry. I won't be long."
He was confident and as Kingley opened the door and allowed the two men in, Lucius was the first to enter. She wanted to say something, wanted to let them know just how much he had changed and how good of a man he had become, but his actions and his own words would be enough, if only because they had to be. The door clicked softly closed behind them, leaving Hermione out in the hallway alone. She stilled in front of the door until she heard a magical shutter spread over it, silencing all sounds from both leaving the room or entering it.
Her eyes dragged down the length of the hallway to the waiting area with a disapproving stare. With a deep breath, Hermione stepped to the side and leaned lightly against the wall beside the door to Kingsley's office. No matter how long or short their meeting lasted, it would feel like an eternity as she waited with as much patience as she could muster.
The first ten minutes seemed to blitz past as she tried to decide exactly what Lucius had chosen to tell them. Would he begin with an apology or go straight into it with a confession of his wrongs? If he did either, how would Harry and Kingsley respond? Would they even reply, or would they let him speak fully and completely before giving their opinions? How many questions would they bombard him with? How much information would they demand immediately after agreeing to help him?
Hermione shifted against the wall as her back stiffened from the lack of movement. After half an hour of standing outside the door, a middle-aged witch with bright red hair, curled to perfection and accessorized with a petite purple bow approached her with a glass of clear liquid. "Would you like some water, dear? There's a waiting area with chairs just down this hallway here," She began to offer, handing Hermione the water with a polite smile.
"Thank you, but I'm okay over here. They won't be much longer." The younger witch accepted the water with a grateful return of her smile, keeping her feet planted on the floor beside the office door. The red-haired, bow-sporting witch left with an understanding nod and a promise to assist if Hermione needed anything.
It felt like her eyelids had grown weights at the ends, drooping down slowly every so often as the boredom threatened to take over her in the form of sleep. Hermione jerked her head up, flickering her eyes open just before they had fully closed. This had been the sixth time she nearly nodded off, but as she looked at the clock hanging further down the hallway on the opposite wall, it only showed an hour since Lucius had entered the office. Hermione groaned and shifted on her feet for what seemed like the hundredth time, crossing her arms tighter over her chest as she leaned back against the wall for support.
Before long, her eyes caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye. She squinted, convinced she had finally gone mad with boredom. Floating down to her from around the edge of one of the hallway's walls was a fairly comfortable-looking chair, complete with a fluffy cushion and a pair of firm armrests on either side. She blinked and pushed herself up off of the wall. The same middle-aged witch with the bow appeared around the corner, wand in hand, as she guided the heavy chair down the hallway to Hermione. "You didn't have to –," Hermione began as the chair dropped down lightly beside the wall where she had been leaning.
"Oh, nonsense, dear. You'll sooner fall asleep on your feet than leave that spot. What's the harm in giving your toes a rest for a little while?" She beamed cheerily, adjusting the chair against the wall until it was straight.
"Thank you," Hermione blushed. She hadn't realized anyone was watching her and wondered if she looked nuts nearly nodding off before snapping her head back up, insisting to herself that she was awake when her mind demanded otherwise. The chair felt like heaven as she finally sat down, allowing her legs to relax for the first time in an hour. The ministry witch was just about to leave when Hermione stopped her hesitantly. "Excuse me, but I'm getting a bit worried. Do meetings with the Minister typically take this long?"
"Oh yes, dear." The witch replied before contradicting her answer. "Well, I suppose it depends on the importance of the meeting and what they're discussing."
Hermione shrugged and agreed. "It is important."
The woman smiled warmly again. "Then I'd say they're right around where they should be with the time frame."
With a subtle glance down the hallway where the witch had come from, Hermione debated asking if there was a loo down there as well, but decided against it. With her luck, as soon as she reached the toilet, the meeting would end and Lucius would think she had grown inpatient and left. She crossed her legs gracefully and thanked the witch again for her kindness.
At the peak of the second hour, almost stretching to the third, Hermione spotted someone coming down the hallway again. 'Don't tell me she's brought me a bucket,' Hermione thought humorously before realizing there wasn't only one person walking down the long hall, but two people. The witch's red hair was no where to be seen as two sturdy men strutted down the corridor. Their uniforms were crisp and creased in all the right places, if only strengthening their appearances along with the official Ministry of Magic seals they wore on the right breasts of their shirts. Hermione watched as they approached, expecting them to continue down the hallway to their final destination somewhere else in the ministry, but as they stopped in front of the Minister's door and knocked, Hermione shot up from her chair. "Excuse me, but there's a very important meeting taking place in there. You'll have to come back later." Her eyes were judging, scanning over their uniforms, down to the wands holstered securely by their waists, and the unyielding seriousness slashed across their faces.
One of the men turned to the other before they both looked back at Hermione, perplexed and curious by her presence. The shorter of the two replied matter-of-factually, "We've been summoned by the Minister himself. You'll have to stand back, Miss." The man knocked again.
"I think there's been a mistake." Hermione insisted. "What are your jobs exactly?" She didn't mean to sound at all rude or disrespectful but if he kept knocking on the door so loudly, they were sure to disrupt the meeting going on inside, silencing charms or not.
The same officer who had spoke before glanced at her again, perhaps wondering what her exact security clearances were. He doubted she held any sort of position of authority over them, otherwise she would be sitting in the room with the Minister and not locked out like some miscreant up to no good. "Please step back, Miss." The second officer repeated, drawing his arm up as somewhat of a barrier between her and the door. The knob jiggled with a quick rattle as the spells dispersed away from it, lifting the silencing spell and the adjacent wards that locked them out. Both uniformed wizards straightened their stance, stiffening their back and positioning their arms firmly by their sides. The door opened, urging the officers to respond in unison, "Minister Shacklebolt, Sir."
"At ease." Hermione heard Kingsley address them from inside the room. "Just in here. Harry, the wand." He spoke as if giving instructions, but as the two men entered the doorway, they blocked her view entirely.
"Excuse me," her voice had quivered as she slipped her way into the room behind them. "Minister, what is –," She began to question the officers' presence, though as much as she hated to admit it, she knew the answer already. She didn't need to see his hands tied tightly behind his back, or his wand being passed loosely from Harry's hands to one of the officer's. She didn't need to see it to make it true, but as she did, she wished she hadn't.
Her throat felt uncomfortably tight and her breathing seemed harder to control. Before she knew what she was doing, she had pushed her way past the officers, disregard for the gentleness that she lacked, and blocked Lucius as best as she could. "What are you doing?" She shouted at Harry. "Untie his wrists." Harry didn't move. "Now, Harry!"
"I can't do that, Hermione." He insisted, giving the officers a slight nod to continue.
They stepped forward, but Hermione wouldn't back down. She spread out her arms to the side, covering as much of Lucius as she could, though the height difference proved difficult to overcome, even with his head hanging somewhat low as he stood wordlessly behind her. "This isn't how it was supposed to be." She could feel her voice betraying her, the irritating first signs of the sobs that would surely come soon enough. Her attention shifted to Kingsley. "He can help us. We can win this war, but we need his help. You're making a mistake."
The Minister shook his head solemnly. "I'm sorry, but the decision has already been made."
"No!" Her first thoughts were to plead with them again, try to get them to see, to understand, but as the mixture of fear and anger began to overwhelm her, all she wanted to do was draw her wand and keep them away from him. If she could just buy him a bit more time and keep the ministry officers off of him, maybe it would be enough. Her vision glossed over with the start of tears as her hand moved slowly over to her pocketed wand.
She felt the thin wood between her fingertips before her hand could fully grasp it. 'If they see my wand, will they strike me down? Will they think I mean to kill them?' Her thoughts were scattered, placed carelessly between the intentions to do good and remain calm, and the urge to do everything she needed to do to protect him. 'If they would just step back... give us some space,' Her eyes watched hesitantly as the officers gradually closed in, shifting closer and closer until she was left with no choice but to grip her wand fully, its wooden length held flush against her palm as the tip slowly began to slip away from the safety of her pocket.
"Hermione." His voice behind her stilled her movements, but her fingers wouldn't leave her wand. The tears had taken over, clouding her sight to near blindness as she heard him again. "Hermione, it's okay."
She grimaced as she tried not to notice the sense of utter defeat in his tone. 'It's not okay! You're restrained like some common criminal and they have your wand,' She wanted to ignore him, wanted to claim she hadn't heard him, but as she felt the brush of his front as he stepped closer behind her, her hand released and her wand dropped to the floor. "Lucius, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Abandoning all modesty or restraint, Hermione spun around and grabbed him around the torso. Her face buried against his chest as she tried to get a hold over the tears that fell down in heavy drops from her reddened cheeks. Lucius cursed the ties around his wrists, immobilizing his arms behind his back as she clung to his front. "Can you give us a moment?" He tried, figuring it was worth the attempt at least.
Harry looked to Kingsley, who in turn looked to the two officers, still waiting to collect their prisoner. One of them shook his head and mumbled to the Minister, "It's not generally advised to leave an inmate without supervision once he's been informed of his sentence."
Lucius kicked at Hermione's wand angrily on the floor, knocking it in front of their feet a few paces away. "You have my wand. She's unarmed. Satisfied?" He had remained relatively calm up until then, if only to keep Hermione from falling apart, but as he felt her hugging at him protectively and felt the quiet cries of her breath against his chest, his temper was faltering quickly. He watched as Kingsley began shaking his head, agreeing with the officer. "Can't you see she's upset? Have a heart!" One of the officers bend down to pick up Hermione's wand. Lucius ignored them, shifting his anger towards Harry instead. "And you! You call yourself her friend?" He forced out a laugh until Harry's face flushed a shameful shade of red.
"We can't leave you alone, Malfoy. I'm sorry, Hermione." He tried to get her to hear him, but no matter how many times Harry apologized, unless he was saying Lucius would not be going to Azkaban, she didn't care to hear any of it.
Lucius groaned at his apology and pleaded roughly, "At least give me my bloody hands." Their hesitance returned. This time Harry looked to the officers for their approval. "For fuck's sake," Lucius mumbled in disbelief. "I'm asking you, Potter. Not your pair of glorified guard dogs."
Harry frowned sorely, but stepped forward and grabbed Malfoy's hands by the thumbs. His wand sliced through the magically tied rope that had been used to bound his wrists, freeing his arms to wrap around the witch in front of him like he had wished to do since she entered the room. He muttered out his thanks and focused on brushing away the streaks of drying tears that coated Hermione's face. "Shh, shh." Lucius whispered softly, debating innerly whether a few sparingly placed kisses over her cheeks would seem too overly romantic for their current audience. If he had been granted the privacy of an empty room, his level of intimacy would have been without a question more pronounced, but they had her reputation to consider. With him locked away in Azkaban, she would be left with no one but the Order. And if their romantic relationship became public knowledge, nothing good would come of it for Hermione. Grudgingly, Lucius settled for a fairly platonic, almost fatherly kiss to her forehead. "It's okay. I'll be okay." He promised.
Hermione found her voice, her tears slowing and her throat loosening as he held her lovingly in his arms. "I'm so sorry. If I had known..." Her words faded away as the threat of more tears itched at her already reddened eyes.
"You didn't know." Lucius stated, his eyes lifting to glare at Kingsley and Harry before falling back to Hermione. "It wasn't supposed to happen this way. But I need you to listen to me." He spoke softly, lifting her chin with a gentle finger and smiling down as he trailed it along the smoothness of her almost dry cheek. "I need you to stay safe. Are you listening?"
"I'm listening," Hermione insisted. "But this isn't right, Lucius. You can't –,"
"I know, I know." He agreed. "But my say in the matter is no longer significant." Again, his eyes glared at the two men he had just spent the better part of almost three hours with.
"Lucius," She repeated with another tight hug. It had become blatantly clear that their time together had come to an end as the officers eyed the Minister for some sort of instruction.
"I have to go now, darling." He pressed a kiss to her forehead again, his lips lingering against her skin for as long as he could before pulling away and repeating, "I need you to stay safe."
Hermione swallowed the lump in her throat and wiped at the last bit of wetness that slipped from her eyes. "I will. When this is over, you'll be released. I'll find a way, I promise."
They didn't want to separate, nearly breaking down again as they peeled away from each other. Lucius presented his wrists, holding his arms out to the officers as they replaced the rope that had previously bound him, with a set of short shackles to secure his wrists together in front of him. They grabbed a hold of him by the upper arms, one on either side, and escorted him out of the office to where he could be properly transported to the wizard prison.
"How long is his sentence?" Hermione asked bleakly, the energy and spark that had once been in her voice was left barren as she retrieved her wand from the desk the officer had placed it on before leaving. She slipped it back into her pocket, her movements almost robotic as she tried to focus on keeping her emotions in check.
"The terms of his probation stated he wasn't to associate in any way, shape, or form with criminal activities." Harry explained.
It wasn't what she wanted to hear. She already knew his crimes. She knew his sins and had accepted them as well as his repentance, even if Harry and the Minister couldn't do the same. "How long, Harry?" She repeated.
He didn't want to answer. It wasn't what she wanted to hear and after seeing her so broken and vulnerable only moments ago, he didn't want to be the one to cause her even more heartache. Kingsley answered for him, gently stating with as much sincerity as he could, "It's a life sentence. I'm afraid that's what's standard in situations like this."
"Situations like this," Hermione recited his wording, as if tearing it apart piece by piece until it somehow made sense. Except there were no similar situations. There were no other former death eaters who had offered their services without anything more than a simple agreement of protection. There were no other ex-death eaters who had transformed as much as Lucius had done, none that had so much to lose. And as Hermione's mind wandered to their morning together, their shared bed and all that went along with it, she knew there was no one else that would make her feel how she did when he was with her. There was only him, and now he was gone.
Her feet carried her numbly to the doorway. Harry's voice reached her as he apologized again, but the more he said it, the less she wanted to hear.
Going back to the Weasley's home didn't sound appealing in the least. In a best case scenerio, she might end up bumping into Harry if she went to the Burrow. As an even worse option, Harry could have told them all about how poorly the meeting had gone. For the sake of her own safety and continued protection via the Order, Lucius hadn't expressed the depths of their relationship, but Hermione knew that wouldn't stop them from speculating. Even if Harry only mentioned that she had attended, they would still assume. He could skip over the bits and pieces of how she had completely cracked, how she had broken down and clung to the former death eater like some small child being torn away from her favorite item of comfort. 'How could I have been so stupid?' She cursed, curling up on the squeaky bed of her rented room at the Leaky Cauldron. 'To think they would have accepted him...so stupid.'
She knew she couldn't avoid them forever. With the war climbing to higher and higher heights every day, she couldn't imagine turning her back on the side of the Light, not when every wand in their favor mattered more than it ever did in the past. Voldemort had all but destroyed the wizarding world before his permanent departure. She couldn't sit back and watch it happen all over again, not without putting up a fight of her own.
The evening refused to progress. At first, all she wanted to do was sleep. Perhaps if she slept, when she woke up, she would realize this had all just been some horrible dream. She could wake up in the Manor, in the warmth of Lucius's bedsheets like she had done that morning, and pretend none of today had even happened. She pinched her eyes tighter and pulled the thin, itchy fabric of the rented room's bedding up over her shoulders and round her neck until only the top of her head poked out. Her eyes swelled once more with the sting of sorrow as her throat tightened with a lump. He had made her promise to stay safe, but as she laid sobbing in the bed, the wards she would normally have placed around the room were left neglected. She knew she wouldn't have the amount of energy it would take to maintain them, at least not for any significant amount of time. The simple charmed lock on the door would have to suffice for the remainder of her stay, however long that would be.
The haze only found in dreams clouded her mind and flooded her senses with the dark, damp cells of Azkaban prison. An armed guard, similar in dress to the officers she had seen earlier, escorted her down the long cell block at a brisk pace. His hand rested comfortably on the butt of his wand as they passed cell after filthy cell. The corridor was lined on either side with prisoners, inmates in dull gray striped pajamas with dirty faces and crude words. They shouted at her, whistled and catcalled, threatened her in every manner imaginable as she walked past their barred doors. She kept her eyes straight ahead as her heart pounded against the confines of her ribs.
It was like walking down the line in a muggle animal shelter. The noise was overwhelming, with screams and yells penetrating into her instead of the anxious, angry barks that the typical room of dogs would provide. She swallowed down hard and left her lips parted, hissing in as much oxygen as she could through her mouth as her body demanded more and more from her. Her feet kept moving, quickly trailing behind the guard in a hope that should one of their shouts or promises of torture come to fruition, he would be able to somehow hold them back.
They reached the end of the long concrete hall. "You've been permitted a total of five minutes, no more." The guard informed her as he worked at lifting the countless charms and hexes that kept the door in front of them firmly sealed shut. A tiny window, just barely big enough to peer in through, was the only source of light reaching into the room from the dim illuminations of the hallway. "He's been restrained for your safety. The room has been charmed to only allow him to move so far before reaching an invisible barrier."
"That's not necessary," Hermione heard her own voice as if she were more of a spectator than an actual participant in the conversation.
A loud noise struck out from behind the door, causing the guard to pound angrily at the tiny window with the butt of his wand. "Get back in the corner! Now!" He shouted at the prisoner inside until it complied, limping weakly away from the invisible barrier that had just zapped him back against the stone wall of the cell. "Stay!" The guard instructed loudly, ensuring his voice penetrated through the glass and steel of the thick prison door.
"This isn't necessary," Hermione repeated again firmly as the guard's harsh tone struck a cord in her.
"Just precautions, Miss." He explained apologetically. "It's not uncommon for wizards to lose their minds while confined to a cell here in Azkaban. I've seen a man attack and slaughter his own mother because he thought it would grant him the chance of an escape." He shook his head. "Not even a guarantee of it, just a chance." The door cracked open with a sharp pop as the magical seals that had held it shut slipped away under the guard's wand. "Stay by the door and keep your distance from the inmate. Your wand?" He extended his hand, holding it open in front of her as he waited for her to comply. She hesitated, slipping her wand out of her pocket to fiddle with it between her fingertips before finally handing it over to the guard. He dropped it into a hidden pocket against the left front side of his uniform and nodded towards the room. "You have five minutes."
The room was dark and smelled of spoiled goods. There was movements against the back wall of the cell, if only a slight shutter as the light blinded the prisoner's view of her in the doorway. Her feet shuffled forward nervously as she tried to make sense of the lumps of shadows that huddled pathetically against the cold stone wall. The guard pounded on the door, catching her attention and pausing her movements with a startled tensing of her shoulders. His voice was muted as he shouted at her from outside the door, warning her to stay where she was, despite only being a few measly paces away from the cell's entrance.
She nodded back at him, turning away from the cell's interior for a moment at best. The sound of labored movement forced her head to snap back to the cell, searching the shadows of the back wall for the familiar mound of something human as her eyes readjusted to the darkness. He was gone. Against the better judgment of the guard standing outside, Hermione took another step forward, squinting into the indistinct remnants of the small room.
Unaware of just how closely she had moved towards the invisible barrier, Hermione heard the dull sizzle of its magical charge before she spotted him running towards her. His long blonde hair had become stringy and riddled with knots. The deep circles under his eyes left them sunken in and hollow until it appeared as nothing more than a pair of bright blue-gray orbs sitting unrecognizably above his pronounced cheekbones and deflated cheeks. His once revered jawline, strong and masculine in appearance, had been left to protrude harshly from the surrounding structure of his face, a gawky angle taking hold of the left side as if it had been shattered by force and left to heal on its own. The ghost of a man she had once known, once cherished, charged at her like a crazed beast, the bloodlust shining bright from his lifeless eyes.
He hit the barrier between them, sending sparks and bursts of light flashing only a foot in front of her face. They remained on his side, shocking him with a force that sent him hurling backwards into the jagged stone wall once more. He crumbled to the ground, no more than a lump of defeated shadows as she had seen him as only moments ago. "What have you done to him?" She shouted at the guard through the door. "He's hurt! Can't you see he's hurt!" Her pleads shifted uncontrollably from need of assistance to rage, mixing and blending until she couldn't separate the two emotions at all. "He needs a healer!" The witch shouted, striking the door violently with the side of her fist.
Though the small window provided a somewhat skewed view of the hallway beyond the door, it had been enough to see the guard standing outside waiting for her. But as her hands pounded at the steel and glass, she lost sight of him. The hallway seemed vacant, leaving even the adjacent cells bare and silent with their doors all swung open carelessly. Hermione recoiled from the window, an eerie sense of unease washing over the room as she turned back to find Lucius among the shadows once more. He wasn't moving, hadn't flinched or shifted at her poundings and it worried her. 'He's passed out,' she convinced herself, ignoring the inevitable possibility that the final shock of the barrier had extinguished his flame entirely.
She needed to get help, needed to find a healer or get back her wand to heal him herself, but the bloody door wouldn't budge. Clawing at the smooth steel with a desperation she had never imagined possible, Hermione called out to anyone who could hear her. "Please! We need help! Please!"
As her fists battered at the door tirelessly, the subtle hissing coming from outside the cell went unnoticed until it was too late. The hissing grew louder and louder until it flooded her ears and blocked out all other noise. She couldn't hear the pounding of her fists or her pleas for help as the foreign tongue invaded her mind entirely. Her hands pulled painfully away from the door to cup over her ears, her eyes clenched tightly closed as she sunk down to the cold cell's floor. The pain shattered through her ears to her hands, trailing down the lengths of her arms until it reached the bulk of her torso and struck at her core. Her body fell against the ground until her back laid flat against the dirty stone floor, pinned weakly in place by the cruciatus curse that racked through her bones and threatened to drive her mad with the pain.
And then it had ended. As quickly as it started, the hissing ceased and the pain subsided, though the pounding in her chest had remained and the struggle to find a steady breath still made her body feel weak and useless. Her arms felt like pudding and her legs like rubber as she forced herself up off the ground, ignoring the caked on dirt and dust that now soiled her clothes. She limped towards the door with a wince as her right leg took too much weight than it could handle. Her hands fell to the door for support as her body leaned flush against it. "Please," the young witch pitifully called out to the empty hallway. The window took on the weight of her head as she dropped her forehead down against it, defeated and beaten but still left standing, still trying.
A soft tapping at the glass forced her head to lift away from it, her eyes climbing up the length of the door to peer out the window with the last scrap of hope she could dig out from inside her. The hallway was empty, cells still bare, and her eyes closed heavily with defeat. Just as she was about to collapse onto the floor once more, the soft tapping returned, louder this time but still just as rhythmic in its approach. Her gaze flashed up as she stood face to face with the piercing red eyes and the slick pale face of the departed Dark Lord, the thin magically charged glass providing the only means of a barrier between them. She jerked her head back away from the window as he clawed at it, pawing at the glass and hissing angrily at her before raising his wand. She flinched, recoiled with her hands over her face, and shielded herself from the burst of violent green light that shattered through the window and flooded the previously dark, dank cell.
"Miss Granger!" A tiny voice was shouting at her while bony, slender hands gripping at her shoulders, pinning her down as she thrashed from side to side. Hermione's screams drowned out the sounds of the little house elf's panicked pleas, leaving the tiny creature to think of no other remedy than to cover the witch's mouth roughly with her skeletal hands. "Miss Granger, quiet!"
Hermione's eyes jolted open as the remnants of her nightmare passed, leaving her left with only the screams as a reminder. Her throat felt hoarse, uncertain of how long she had been disturbed before the house elf had attempted to silence her. She was covered in a thin layer of cold sweat, earning her a steady wave of goosebumps that began in her face and spread down her body like wildfire. Her eyes focused on the frail creature now practically sitting on her torso as she tried to cover as much of Hermione's mouth as she could. The elf was a familiar sight, though a curiosity to see at after five in the morning, in her rented room at the Leaky Cauldron of all places.
"Miss Granger," Mimbi repeated, softer this time as she slowly peeled her hands away from Hermione's face. "Shh, Miss Granger, shh." She drew a frail finger up to her lips and pursed them outwards with a gentle shush.
Hermione nodded quietly, dropping her head back down to the pillow as she caught her breath and wiped the sweat from her brow. "Mimbi, what are you doing here? What time is it?" Her eyes scanned around the darkened room until she spotted the muggle wristwatch laying sideways on the bedside table. It showed half past five in the morning. "It's late. You shouldn't be here."
She began to sit up but the house elf pushed her back down. "Master Malfoy said protect Miss Granger. Keep safe." Mimbi sat up proudly and gave Hermione a stern nod, as if to say that was exactly what she was doing.
"You've spoken with him?" the witch asked impatiently. "When, Mimbi? When did he tell you this?" Her mind raced with the possibilities. Was Mimbi able to somehow apparate through elf magic in and out of Azkaban? Had she reached out to her Master when he didn't return home this evening? Hermione sat up, pushing the light little house elf down off of her chest and onto the foot of the bed instead. "When, Mimbi?"
"Two." Mimbi replied, lifting two slender fingers to emphasize her answer. "Two days past."
Hermione thought back. 'That was the morning after the wedding, the morning after he had decided to speak with the Minister and Harry.' Hermione groaned at the realization. Mimbi hadn't spoken with Lucius since his incarceration. She most likely hadn't even seen him, let alone received instructions from him regarding Hermione's well-being. "I'm fine, Mimbi." Hermione laid back down, yanking the sheets up around her as best as she could with Mimbi's weight still pulling them down to the foot of the bed. "I'm just having trouble sleeping."
The small elf looked down at her with her big, glassy eyes. She extended a hand and offered warmly, "Come." Hermione shook her head. The last thing she needed was to leave with Malfoy's house elf, in the middle of the night, while he was locked away in Azkaban. If they returned to the Manor, what promise was there that it hadn't already been flooded with dark witches and wizards, looted and left as nothing more than a safe house for the unsavory and the sinful. "Come." Mimbi repeated, shaking her hand towards Hermione. She drew her other hand up to her chest and laid it flat against the skin and bones. "Scared."
Having no proper gauge on the house elf's age, Hermione had always seen her as somewhat of a child. Her mind was simple, either beaten into such a state, or stifled and stunted of growth from the lack of education that some of the more fortunate house elves received. Her words were scattered, bits and pieces of possibly more elaborate thoughts, but as she tried to communicate her fears, Hermione wondered exactly how old Mimbi truly was. "You've been alone before." She stated, watching the elf for some form of clarification. Mimbi nodded. "This isn't any different. You're welcome to stay here for the night if you're afraid of the empty manor. I'm sure it's dark," She tried, attempting to narrow in on the house elf's fears in order to tackle them head on. If she was still a child of sorts, perhaps the darkness in combination with the oversized, ancient estate had scared the poor elf into seeking out the only source of comfort she had ever known: Hermione.
As the words left her, Hermione watched as Mimbi shook her head gravely. "No, dark," She shook her head again and pressed her hand against her chest. "No scared." Her free hand shook towards Hermione again, firmer and more desperate as she asked once more, "Come, Miss Granger. Come."
ANs: My loose goal is to end this story at around 45 chapters, 50 at the most and 40 at the least. So I believe we're coming into the home stretch at this point. Fingers crossed that we manage to pull a happy ending out of this one! We'll see :) As always, your reviews and input is always greatly appreciated. I really do look forward to hearing your thoughts and responses to the various chapters. Thank you!
xoxo WildBubblesRoam