As ever my thanks etc for kind words, follows and favs. Apologies this time for a slower update, hope you forgive me.

So Hermione has managed to talk to Lucius, but what of Draco...

Draco had pleaded with Hermione not to leave his father alone, but at that time he had been furious and about to down copious amounts of Firewhiskey. The face of the man she looked into now was very different, the cold desolation she had seen not so long ago, now replaced by warm interest. Those eyes so distant and despairing, blurred by alcohol, were now bright and alert, once again focused on the here and now. His temper had cooled and he was now sitting in his kitchen calmly drinking tea. She felt safe leaving him, and after the deluge of information she had foisted upon him; Lucius need a little time to process it all. Feelings and emotions were clearly things he was not accustomed to dealing with, and Hermione didn't want to push him too hard or too fast, he really had had enough to contend with for one day. She rose slowly from the table, the chair scraping slightly against the stone floor. Those refocused grey blue eyes following her every movement.

"I think I should check to see if Draco is ok."

The somewhat crestfallen look on Lucius' face, made her want to reach out and touch it, she refrained remembering the surprised look on his face at her kiss earlier. She had managed to maintain a balanced line between personal and professional and decided to try and keep it that way, for now at least, a little humour however never hurt with either.

"I've seen those baby pictures of Draco and I was at school with him, I don't want him kicking the house elves."

A knowing look settled on the dark wizard's face: "Fortunately, my son no longer has any toys he can throw around, but perhaps it might be an idea."

Hermione smiled at the sentiment, a picture of Draco Malfoy throwing his toys around in temper was not difficult to imagine. She however struck whilst the iron was hot, reiterating her earlier point.

"You two should, need to talk, but I don't think now is the right time."

Lucius nodded his head in agreement. In many ways the young witch probably knew his son better than him, talking to Hermione might come easily, but he hadn't been able to talk properly to his son in twenty years, that wasn't going to happen overnight.

Hermione moved towards the door, offering Lucius a reassuring smile. "I won't be long."

The promissory tone in her voice caused Lucius to smile openly for the first time, the lines about his eyes now creased from candid pleasure. Just as before he found himself inexplicably not wanting to be parted from her, but he was glad that she wanted to check on Draco, he too was a little anxious for his son. It would also give his racing brain a little time to calm down and take in what she had told him. So much had happened this morning, and it was still a little before midday.

"Granger!" Draco all but pounced on her as she entered his mother's former sitting room once more.

His face was paler than ever, if that was possible, his blue eyes tired and anxious. His hair almost defying description, he had obviously been constantly running his fingers through its length, causing it to stick out in all sort of odd directions, he looked as if he had been subjected to one of Seamus Finnegan's explosive accidents.

"He's fine Draco, honestly, I've left him in the kitchen drinking tea."

Draco's eyes widened, his brows rising just like his father's, he opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again. A look of bafflement on his face, before he finally managed to utter another syllable.

"Granger, MY father, in the KITCHEN, drinking TEA, how in any universe can you call him fine!"

Hermione had to smile, she did see Draco's point, obviously all of these things were totally out of character but surely they had to be better than him hexing everything between here and Hogwarts, or lying on the floor in a drunken stupor or worse. All of which Hermione put to Draco in no uncertain terms.

"Yes I'm sorry Granger, it's well just…... I keep remembering what you told me before, about out of character things not being a good sign."

Again Hermione saw Draco's point, but he had seemed to have fixated on this one thing she had told him. After one lengthy and hard conversation with Lucius, ahead of what she was certain to be another, she really didn't feel inclined to reason with Draco.

"I know Draco, but please, trust me when I say, in this instance, these are good signs."

The young blonde shrugged his shoulders, he was more than happy to take Hermione's word for it and was of course more than glad his father had calmed down and was drinking tea, instead of drinking himself slowly into oblivion. Whatever Hermione was doing or saying was fine by him.

"Is he still angry with me?" Draco asked his eyes falling to the soft rug on the floor.

Hermione couldn't prevent the flush which rose through her body and coloured her cheeks, the recollection of the earlier passion she had shared with Lucius, still very much on her mind, despite what had ensured. Reigning her thoughts in quickly, she spoke once more to his son.

"I think in all honesty right now your father is angry with everyone and everything, but mostly with himself. As I said before, taking it out on us isn't such a bad thing. We can forgive him and talk to him. Others won't be so forgiving or so keen to talk."

Draco looked warily at Hermione.

"Do you think I should talk to him Granger?"

"I do Draco, you two really need to talk to each other, but not right now."

Hermione knew that father and son should talk, they desperately needed to. But she felt it was something that needed to be carefully orchestrated, whilst not looking that way. She could hardly sit these two men down in a room and suggest group therapy. She constrained a smile simply at the thought. Her stomach grumbled as her brain tried to think. Hermione didn't think well on an empty stomach. Although not in Ronald Weasley's league when it came to stuffing her face in times of stress, she did find that eating something focused her concentration. An idea suddenly came to her, as always she had to start somewhere.

"Are you hungry Draco?"

Two surprised blue eyes came to meet her questioning gaze, his brows knitted together in obviously utter confusion at the sudden change of subject.

"Random Granger, but now you come to mention it, I haven't eaten since last night."

Hermione smiled broadly: "Good, firstly you need to promise me to behave yourself, or I don't know about your father hexing you, but I bloody well will."

Draco nodded, he was more than well aware of Hermione Granger's magical abilities, he might have angered his father, but he was after all family, he was far more likely to suffer something horrible at the end of Hermione's wand.

"Right, we are going to the kitchen." She said the words slowly allowing them to sink in, once again she saw Draco's blue eyes, widen like Miffy's.

"But…Granger, you said…. "

"I know what I said Draco, that I left your father in the kitchen and that I don't think you two should talk yet. BUT, polite chit chat over a ham sandwich is not what I call talking to each other. We, as in you have to start somewhere, and this seems like a good a place as any."

The younger Malfoy looked at Hermione, he could tell she wasn't really asking him, but was telling him, and deep down he knew she was of course right. He did have to start somewhere, and some chit chat as Hermione put it, over a sandwich would be easy enough, wouldn't it?

"Ready?" Hermione asked Draco, her hand resting on the large metal handle of the door which lead to the kitchen.

Draco nodded his blonde head and Hermione pushed open the door. Lucius was still seated exactly where she had left him, in front of him, in the china cup was another steaming brew. He had either made it himself, which Hermione very much doubted or had summoned one of the house elves. She smiled at that thought too, imagining Miffy or one of the other's finding the Master seated at the kitchen table.

A smile lit his face as Hermione moved fully into the room, it faded just a little as his son came into view behind her. Pale grey met warm brown across the table, not a word was exchanged between the two, but the look on her face left Lucius Malfoy in no doubt that Hermione expected no displays of hostility.

Lucius also had the distinct feeling that she had probably had a conversation to that very effect with his son before she had allowed him into the room.

"Draco was hungry, and so as it happened was I, I realised in all of the excitement this morning, I didn't get any breakfast."

She noticed the merest hint of colour, spot both sets of Malfoy cheeks, both for very different reasons. Keeping her own face unreadable she addressed father and son, keeping the conversation just as she had said, chit chat.

"Ok, Lucius you said I looked rather at home in your kitchen, that could all change rapidly. Tea I can manage, but rustling up sandwiches might prove a little trickier."

Draco had sat in the seat she had occupied earlier and she noticed he exchanged a nervous but good natured glance with his father, at her implied suggestion, that they were both going to be tantamount to useless when it came to offer any assistance with the task at hand.

"You could just ask Miffy." Offered Draco.

It was met with hands on hips by Hermione, and a quick look from Lucius at his son which screamed for him not to go there. Hermione turned her back on the two Malfoy men, a devilish smile on her face, putting herself in the middle, in the firing line as it were, all be it in fun was working rather nicely. They hadn't spoken to each other yet, but Hermione felt sure once she had cobbled together a sandwich of some sort that would come.

"Draco, I don't need a house elf to make sandwiches. I just need to find…." She punctuated her words with the opening and closing of cupboard doors, opting not to use magic as the visual was far more effective.

"So, ham, cheese, tomato?" She asked opening yet more doors.

The sight of Hermione Granger on tiptoes opening and closing doors in the kitchen of Malfoy manor amused the younger wizard, and despite his father's rather foreboding presence, he couldn't resist a little sarcasm at her expense.

"I think we might die of starvation before you find what you are looking for Granger."

The remark earned him a small but genuine laugh from his father, who too was clearly enjoying the sight before him,

Hermione turned once more to face both of the blonde wizards seated at the large wooden table, her hands were again splayed over her hips, in her best Molly Weasley impersonation. Seeing them both seated together after the heated exchange of words earlier was a sight for sore eyes, seeing them both smile was something else entirely. She hadn't in her wildest dreams envisaged this scenario quite so soon but she made the most of it, even in feigned annoyance. She imagined the Weasley matriarch as she addressed the two Malfoy men.

"If you two can do any better, then I am more than happy to sit down and let you get on with it."

The idea of Lucius and Draco even attempting to make the simplest of sandwiches, without the aid of magic or a house elf, was a stretch even of her imagination.

There was that little exchange of looks once more between father and son, she might well be distracting them from the important issues, what really mattered, but for now it was a giant step, finding a little common, safe ground, which ironically was her and an unmade sandwich. To Hermione's surprise it was Lucius who spoke first.

"For my part the kitchen is most definitely a woman, or house elf's place."

Hermione saw the teasing look in his grey eyes, knowing he was baiting her, feminism and house elves, two subjects Hermione Granger was passionate and well versed about. She turned her gaze to his son, who was looking suitably taken aback at his father's words, Draco's blue eyes' met hers, realising she was waiting for him to say something. He couldn't, daren't match his father's daring taunt, he just went along with what was expected.

"Me, oh forget it, I am just lazy."

Hermione shook her head, actually more than happy with their responses. Both were as she expected from two such men, but both were delivered with an edge of amusement, but with their words came an underlying sense of camaraderie which she doubted either of them was actually aware of.

She had found the things she was looking for and went about making a small selection of sandwiches, which she put on a china plate and placed before them, along with some slightly smaller plates and some napkins.

She was busying herself with more tea, when she heard Draco speak again, his tone was slightly more hushed and she knew he was addressing his father directly. She didn't want to appear to be eaves dropping, but at the same time she was fearful of the younger wizard's tact and still a little warry of Lucius' reaction.

"Father, earlier, I was, well what I said, I shouldn't have. I didn't mean what I said."

Pouring boiling water into the matching china pot, Hermione thanked Merlin both her hands were busy or she might have had the very unprofessional urge to bash their heads together, they really were as bad as each other when it came to talking. It was true, men were notoriously bad at discussing their feelings, talking to each other or even apologising, but these two seriously took the biscuit. However, she had to give it to Draco, he had made that difficult first move, even if it hadn't been a full blown apology, it had been halfway there and it had been offered without any prompting. The kettle remained in mid-air as Hermione waited to hear Lucius' dulcet tones.

"I too was hasty with my words, Draco, I should not have lashed out at you."

Hermione felt a smug little smile tug at her lips, at Lucius' use of her words, she still could have bashed their arrogant blonde heads together though. Not an actual use of the word, sorry, anywhere, but none the less, the young witch thanked Merlin for small mercies as she placed the tea pot and clean cups on the table. Receiving two grateful smiles from the two stubborn men seated either side, as they all tucked into the very skilfully made, or perhaps that should be carefully orchestrated sandwiches.