Trigger warning: mentions of sexual abuse in the second part of this chapter. If you're sensitive, read that part with caution, or skip it altogether (I suspect you'll get the gist of it if you continue to read from part three).

Ginny stepped out of the fireplace and froze, staring at Hermione in horror. And there she is, Hermione thought to herself. She had given Harry and Lucius back their wands and hoped they would use them if Ginny tried to murder her.

Hermione was sitting next to Lucius by the table, holding his hand. Harry sat across from them, looking decidedly uncomfortable but resigned at the moment. It seemed to take forever before Ginny actually spoke. Hermione had expected an outburst – shouting even – but Ginny seemed thunderstruck and when she spoke it was almost a plea:

"Hermione, will you please please please tell me that Lucius Malfoy is not your hot villain?" Hermione blushed, which only made Ginny gape at her. "He's your sexy mystery man?"

"Shut up, Ginny", she warned, burning with embarrassment.

Lucius, however, was amused. Of course he was. "No, do carry on, Miss Weasley".

Ginny stared at him with loathing for a moment and then proceded to ignore him. Apparently, she decided to ignore them both, becase next, she turned to Harry: "And you're fine with this?"

Harry made a dismayed face. "No. I'm not. But Hermione's got some things she wants to tell us, and apparently needs Malfoy's support."

"What kind of support?" Ginny asked, glancing at Hermione but still ignoring Lucius.

"Apparently she needs him to touch her", Harry ground out.

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione snapped, "could you make that sound any more sleazy?"

Hermione looked pleadingly at Ginny. "As I told Harry and Draco, Lucius's presence helps me keep calm."

"How?" Ginny questioned with a frown. "Don't try to play me, Hermione. I know how you felt about him a few months ago. How did you go from that to this?" She gestured at their entwined hands before crossing her arms. Hermione felt the urge to drop his hand from the sheer weight of Ginnys disapproval, but didn't. She felt Lucius's hand tighten in response as well.

"I trust him," Hermione answered and continued quickly before Ginny had a chance to voice the protests she knew were coming. "Look, I know what you're thinking. He's a mean, arrogant minion of evil – sorry Lucius, but that's what you were in our eyes –" She looked up, softening her words with a smile and saw him nodding once, apparently choosing not to question her assessment, "But I guess – I guess that's what I need right now, because – because – "

Hermione wanted to take a deep breath, but struggled to do so. She wanted to tell them, but was choking on the words. Immediately, strong hands embraced her and he spoke into her ear. "Hermione, calm down. You're all right. You can breathe now." She nodded.

"Do it," he ordered. "Breathe."

So she did. She leaned her forehead against his chest for a few moments, just focusing on breathing and his smell. Finally, she sat back up.

"Sorry," she mumbled.

"You were saying?" Ginny reminded. She was still tense but spoke more gently than before. "You need an arrogant bad guy to help you because...?"

"Because it makes me feel safe."

"That doesn't – " Harry began again.

"Make sense?" Lucius said crisply. Despite his calm demeanor, Hermione could tell he was getting annoyed. "What is it you find so difficult to understand, Mr Potter? Your friend has suffered a trauma. She might not need physical protection – at least as long as people do not barge into her home in the middle of the night – but she needs to believe she is truly safe. She knows that what I have done in the past, I will do it again if that is what is required to protect her."

"But why do you need physical contact?"

"Because she likes him, Harry", Ginny sighed. She walked up to Harry and flopped down on the chair previously occupied by Draco, taking Harry's hand.

Hermione watched her friend in astonishment. "And you are okay with that?" she echoed Ginny's earlier question.

"No," Ginny with a snort. "It's repulsive and wrong, and you know it. But I suppose I understand the mechanics. Being close to him is like... like an antidote, right?"

"Antidote to what?" Harry asked.

"How would I know?" Ginny sighed.

"If the two of you would shut up and let her speak, perhaps things would become clearer," Lucius said tersely. Hermione almost smiled.

Hermione was determined to tell them, but now that the time had come, she didn't know where to start. She looked at her two friends. They'd known her for ten years, basically half her life, and yet they didn't know. They'd never guess. For a moment she was seized with worries. She worried that they would be disappointed in her for not telling them. That they would blame her for what happened. That they wouldn't understand the big deal. That they would look at her differently. She knew those worries were mostly groundless, but still they swarmed her mind.

She glanced up at Lucius. He met her gaze, and for a moment she thought she saw something akin to dread there. But then he seemed to slip on his normal mask of cool indifference. He sat up straighter in his chair, clasping her hand and looked her int he eye in an almost businesslike manner.

"When did it happen?" he asked matter-of-factly.

"In the summer before our fourth year at Hogwarts", she answered.

"Where?"

"At home."

"Who was it?"

"My father's younger brother," Hermione whispered.

He caught her eye. "Tell us", he said simply.

She knew she needed to – for her own sake. She needed to begin sorting out the jumbled bits and pieces in her mind. But she had pushed the memories away for so long it almost hurt physically to pick them up. She clutched Lucius's hand, took as steady a breath as she could manage, and began:

"It was in the summer before fourth year. My father's younger brother, Ed, had come to stay for a few days. He was a few years older than I. He and Dad didn't grow up together, but Dad was happy they kept in touch a little at least. He lived somewhere up north, with his mother. I think they moved around a lot because I could never quite point out a certain town or country. When I was younger, he didn't pay me much attention. He would volunteer to babysit for an hour or so when he visited, but mostly let me watch the telly. Still, I remember being excited about his visits when I was little. Like kids are."

Hermione swallowed. "But this time when he came to see us, it had been several years since he came last. And there was something different in the way he behaved around me. He would look at me in a way that didn't fit with what I'd come to expect of him. He'd give me compliments about my appearance, and not just the sort of elder brotherly talk of having a nice dress or pretty hair. When we were alone, he would comment on my body. And then one day, he offered to stay at home with me while my parents went out for dinner. I didn't want to be alone with him, but it felt wrong to stop my parents from enjoying themselves. It wasn't as if I had a valid reason."

Harry and Ginny were staring at her, horror already showing on their faces. They were beginning to guess where this was going. She knew Lucius had figured it out long ago.

"As soon as we'd seen their car drive off, he sat down on the living room sofa, and patted the space next to him, telling me to come sit by him. I couldn't find a reason to say no. He..." Hermione felt her body begin to shake, but tried to ignore it. She needed to say it. Lucius began to stroke her arm firmly and she focused her attention on that. "I sat next to him, and he came closer, beginning to... to touch me. Everywhere. He said the most – most horrible things. I tried to leave, but he stopped me, and he pushed me down and tore off my clothes – and he –"

A sob broke through her speech, but now it was as if she couldn't stop speaking. The memories were too strong and she continued rambling.

"He held me there for hours, he... he raped me, and kept telling me either I was dirty and deserved to be hurt, or that it gave him pleasure to do this to me. I couldn't get away. My wand was upstairs. He didn't stop until it was getting close to the time my parents would be getting home. He sent me off to shower. When I was trying to sneak back to my room he was waiting outside with a band-aid. He put it on my arm. I didn't understand why. Not until later, when my dad came in to ask me how I was, saying Ed had explained about the accident where I'd hurt my arm and bled on the sofa."

Lucius had to use all the restraint he was capable of to focus on the task at hand: soothing Hermione, and storing every detail that might be useful into his memory. In reality he felt like destroying something. Killing someone.

Tears were running down Hermione's cheeks, and she was shaking – but amazingly otherwise fairly composed. Just when he, Potter and the Weasley-girl were beginning to breathe again, hoping se had finished her tale, she began again.

"It was awful, staying in the same house with him. I avoided him as much as possible, wishing I could tell my parents but... I didn't know how to tell them. They would be so disappointed, and feel guilty. And my Dad really loved his brother. And what were they supposed to do anyway? It had happened, all I wanted was to forget. But two days later, there was a knock on my bedroom door, and he came in. I could tell from the look in his eyes what he wanted. Without my knowing it, my mom had gone shopping, and my dad had taken the car to a mechanic. I was terrified, but this time I had my wand within reach. Still, I knew I shouldn't use it. I didn't want to be expelled for unauthorised magic. So I hesitated, and he had the chance to grab me again, pulling me to the floor. I was screaming inside my mind, begging him to go away. And then... Something happened. I don't know what, exactly. Suddenly, he froze, looking dazed."

None of them had expected this.

"Was it magic?"

"I don't know. I can't remember any more than that. I managed to run away, and he left the same day. He never came back to see us. Dad was so disappointed that he didn't stay in touch. We never learned what happened."

"Did you hear from the Ministry? If you used magic, they must have registered it."

"I'm not sure. It's all a bit blurred."

"I wish you'd told us," Harry said sadly.

"I just wanted to forget", she said. "And somehow I did. I mean, not forget, but push it away. Go away, go away. I kept repeating that in my mind and slowly it did. And then there was the Quiddich World Cup and once we got to Hogwarts the whole Triwizard tournament started and with time I just... I managed to push it away so much I didn't even know it myself."

They all fell silent. Lucius remembered the world cup, vaguely recalling Hermione tagging along Potter and Weasley by the first class seats. She had just been a child then, in his eyes. A child of no consequence. Something stabbed at him from the inside, but he ignored it. This wasn't the time. Finally, Hermione muttered something about the bathroom and stumbled off.

"She needs to sleep," he told the others. They nodded.

"What if he's still out there?" Miss Weasley shuddered. "We need to make sure he won't hurt her again. Or anybody else."

At least Lucius and Potter could agree on that.

"If she used magic on him, there should be some record of it in the Ministry Archives", Potter suggested. "I think I could get access, even if it's classified." Potter turned to look at Lucius. "Could you try to get more details about that guy? We should try to track him down."

"I'll try. If I have your word you won't keep any of your findings from me."

"What will you do with the information?" Potter asked.

"I'll think of something", Lucius said darkly. If the others suspected him of planning to use Dark Arts they were either too shocked by Hermione's story to care, or figured they could stop him later. As long as they were agreed that the man must be punished, it was of little matter if they disagreed as to the forms. At least for the present.

"We can't hide any of it from Hermione," Miss Weasley warned.

Lucius agreed, even though he wished he didn't. He would have liked to spare her any continuation of this horrible story. But needed only imagine how she would react if she found out they had hidden things from her in order to know it was a bad idea. Miss Weasley looked surprised when he nodded. He smiled tiredly at her, earning himself a look of even greater surprise.

"We might not get anywhere, but we'll tell Hermione right away if we do." Potter decided and looked at Ginny and Lucius. "Deal?"

"Deal."