A/N: I just wanted to take the time to give a general thank you to each and everyone of my readers. I appreciate y'all so much.

T/W: Child abuse mention.

"Have a seat, Draco."

Draco forcefully willed his knees not to give out before they reached one of the chairs in front of Lucius' large, timber desk. Draco had just run up the stairs and into his room to hide the flowers before returning to the first floor to meet with his father. He breathed deeply to catch his breath and used a handkerchief to wipe the sweat that perspired on his face.

"The first thing I will say to you, is to stop listening in on Hermione's therapy sessions." Lucius said this as he was taking his gloves off, and did not see Draco collapse into the seat in front of the desk. How did he know? "I know I've always said knowledge is power, but Hermione is not a threat so there is no need for you to sneak around and collect information about her. The second thing I wanted to talk to you about is your relationship with her." Lucius watched his son very closely before continuing. "Would you say the two of you are friends?" Draco tried to swallow before speaking, but his mouth was parched. If I say yes, will I be harmed for being so weak of a Malfoy that I keep friends? Or is this something he is wanting like mum is? Lucius noticed Draco's lack of speech and took out a scotch glass before putting the tip of his want to the end of it. "Aguamenti." Lucius pushed the glass towards Draco and left it at the edge for his son to take.

Draco stared at the glass, unsure if it was another trick that his father had planned for him. If I reach for the glass, will I find a shield over it so he can laugh? Or will he smack the hand I reach out with? Draco met Lucius' eyes and gave a stiff nod. "I appreciate it." Draco did not say anything and became alarmed that his father did not move, as Lucius waited for Draco take the glass. He asked me a question, what did he ask me? Think, and don'ttaketheglass!

"You're not going to have a drink? You sound like you're talking with parchment between on your tongue." Lucius looked at his son, wondering why Draco did not take the glass when it was needed.

"I'm alright." Draco's eyes fell from his father's to the desk. Immediately he lifted them back up, this time with fear in them as he was sure his father would strike him like Lucius usually did when Draco showed weakness or fear. His body shook more violently with each passing second until Lucius finally understood why Draco would not take the water.

Lucius didn't give in to his first reaction which was to throw the glass across the room. Lucius instead swished his wand so the cup lifted into midair and glided to Draco's chest, forcing his son to hold it. As he watched Draco lift a shaky hand to hold the glass to his chest, Lucius felt his anger shift from Draco not trusting his own flesh and blood, to himself. Narcissa was right when she made the point that simply providing a roof- no matter how grand of a roof it was- did not make him a great parent. It was everything else Lucius did.

So his anger reared on himself instead. Lucius sat back in his chair, his arms folded over his stomach. "No matter." He spoke through ground teeth as he regarded his son with fiery eyes. "Would you say that you and Hermione have become friends?"

That was the question! Draco briefly thought about denying the claim, but was more than aware how his father treated liars. "Yes." Draco wanted to wipe his palms on something as they had a layer of sweat on them, but was too afraid to move and heavens forbid he put the glass down. He wished his father would get the beating over with so he could get out of the study as soon as possible... Unless he doesn't plan on hitting me, but Draco did not dare to get his hopes up.

Lucius gave a quick nod, accepting the answer before looking over to his globe, pondering if he should pour himself a drink or not. "Your mother and I have purchased tickets to the Quidditch World Cup for your birthday."

Draco already knew this and had bragged about it around Hogwarts. "Yes, I was thrilled to receive the news." Draco felt disappointment build within him. Is he planning on taking that away from me based on my answer? Draco's free hand balled into fists at the thought of the unfairness of being put in the balance for his love of quidditch and having a friend who lived with him.

The one side of Lucius' smile quirked up. "I'm sure, which is why I'm going to tell you this so you know what to expect and your gift is not completely ruined." Draco looked up at that, as Lucius' wording caught him completely off guard. "You're mother doesn't want you to know and you must'nt tell Hermione. It may make your task of protecting her the night of the World Cup, but there are things we must keep from her. No matter how close she gets to any of us."

"I don't follow, I-" Draco leaned back a little as if to back away from the conversation.

Lucius held up a hand. "I know you don't, which is why I am going to explain it." Lucius decided against the drink, but rubbed his eyes. Draco had never seen his father show any signs of great fatigue before, and while he knew at this point his father was not going to hit him unless Draco did something outlandish, he did not relax at the sight of his father in such distress. "Nearly every year since the Dark Lord's disappearance, Theodore Nott, Sr. Has held an event for all former Death Eaters..."

Draco sat with his eyes wide, but his ears twice as open, doing his best to remember every word.

A water snake glided smoothly up the pool, twisting its periscope head from side to side; and it swam the length of the pool and came to the legs of a motionless heron that stood in the shallows. A silent head and beak lanced down and plucked it out by the head, and the beak swallowed the little snake while its tail waved frantically-

Hermione was pulled from the imagery that Of Mice and Men had provided when she heard the blanking of ceramic and metal. Looking up, she saw Narcissa setting down a tea set on the table between them. The pot and cups were embellished with water color splashes of pinks and blues instead of the bright rainbow colors of the tea set she and Lucius had drank out of. It was still just as much of an antique as the other one was and she appreciated the simpleness a lot more.

"Good afternoon, Narcissa." Hermione closed the book and turned in her seat to face the older woman. She had decided to camp out on the second floor back porch to read the book. The sound of the wind blowing through the hedges she could not see though provided the perfect atmosphere and she had the perfect view of wizards decorating the gardens with the finest cloths and glitters for the gala.

"Good afternoon, Hermione." Several wand motions later, Narcissa and Hermione both had a cup of tea in front of them.

Hermione lifted her cup by grabbing the edges, not bothering to use the saucer and resisted the urge to thank Narcissa as the tea danced along her tongue to warm her throat. "Oh, what flavor is this?"

Narcissa smiled as she looked over the gardens. "Apple Cider Vinegar. I say it should be renamed as it tastes nothing like actual Apple Cider Vinegar."

"Mmmm," Hermione took another sip. "I concur."

"You like it?" Narcissa took a sip with her pinky out and saucer under her chin. Her cool eyes landed on Hermione, watching the young woman enjoy it. "It's one of Lucius' favorites."

Hermione felt the tea instantly sour on her tongue's palate. "Oh." She finished it off to be polite and stared down at her hands on top of her book. She flipped her left palm over and saw the pink line against her flesh- the only sign she had been hurt yesterday.

"You don't like Lucius, do you? You act as if you hate him. Has he done anything to you?" Hermione looked up to see Narcissa staring at her with narrowed eyes. She felt Narcissa was narrowing her eyes in suspicion to Lucius' behavior, but Hermione still squirmed with being put on the spot.

"It's not that I don't dislike him, I just prefer to act as if he didn't exist."'

Hermione heard Narcissa pour her another cup if tea, but did not explain her reasoning to fill the silence like Narcissa had hoped. "You don't have to lie to me, Hermione. Lucius and I like trying to understand you and it would make it much easier if you would let us know how we can make you living here any easier." Narcissa gave Hermione a warm smile when she looked up knowing Hermione was going to take her bait. She didn't mind having to be patient with Hermione, so long as she got what she wanted.

Hermione huffed and let her anger at Lucius show. "Well, I've only met him once before coming here, and that was the summer of second year. He insulted me, my parents, and then got into a fight with the Weasley's-" Narcissa's eyebrows went up as she had heard of the fight, but was unaware that Lucius insulted anyone else. She couldn't deny it was out of character for him, though. "He almost killed my one female best friend by giving her a cursed diary and he insulted me again the first dinner I had with you all-"

"Something he did apologize for, correct?" Narcissa had heard about their shared laughing fit on the stairs, but wanted to make sure that her own mission had been accomplished when she forced them to have tea.

"Yes, ma'am." Hermione felt slightly short of breath as she spoke even faster. "Right before he refused to lift the charges on Buckbeak."

"I was the one who put that case together for the Hippogriff. I asked Lucius to see to it that the creature was taken care of." Narcissa said this all calmly, hoping that it would encourage Hermione to keep her anger under control.

Instead, Hermione was so shocked she forgot the rest of her rant. "Wha- You did?"

"Yes." Narcissa looked out to the tall hedges of the maze. The glamour warbled and warped, but she could not see through it as well as Lucius could. "I like to think I have an understanding with creatures. I asked Lucius not to keep this maze filled with them after certain life events had happened." Hermione understood she should not ask to elaborate what those events were. "But, he insisted and in a marriage, the couple should rule together on equal standing. Not one over the other. I know it often looks like I always have the last word, but I promise I don't." Hermione nodded her understanding. "However, a XXX creature being taught to a class of third years was bound to have one child hurt. The parents of the child were going to be angry, write to the school, and have nothing result of it. I know this, because Lucius and I have written countless letters to Dumbledore about Hagrid's curriculum since we first learned about that monstrous book he assigned."

Hermione's eyes were wide at the new information and her voice was nearly shrilly when she spoke again. "But Hagrid is a great teacher! He's passionate and-"

"Your tone, Hermione." Narcissa turned her sharp eyes to Hermione who recognized the warning when given."

"Yes ma'am. Hagrid is a good teacher and he's passionate. Not just about the creatures, but about the students. When Draco was hurt he carried him all the way back to the castle. He beams every time he sees we take an interest in something."

"I don't doubt it." Narcissa sipped her tea. "It's his curriculum I have a problem with and Buckbeak was supposed to be turned into an example." She took another sip before giving a wry smile. "But then you and Harry had to free him. It's a good thing that Lucius sacrificed a tooth to prevent you from being caught."

Hermione's mouth went so dry that she had to drink her tea to be able to talk again. Narcissa watched her with a humored expression, enjoying watching Hermione think. "He- he saw us, ma'am?"

"Yes. He specifically said he single-handedly barricaded the door to stop anyone else from going outside after he saw you two guiding Buckbeak into the forbidden forest." The blonde laughed and Hermione was slightly charmed by how her red lips parted her face perfectly. "Lucius can be slightly dramatic, but he wouldn't lie." He saw us and didn't say anything? I would have been in so much trouble if I were caught! Not for Buckbeak, but for going back in time! She doesn't know that though, does she? No, she just knows we helped Buckbeak escape. Hermione's mind raced with rapid fire thoughts and didn't stop until Narcissa spoke again. "And as for everything else before that, he is trying to be better. We both are if I were to be honest. Parenting is not easy and everyday I find myself learning something new or realizing something that could have been done better. I wouldn't trade it in for anything else in the world, though."

Hermione stared at Narcissa and opened her mouth to ask what exactly she meant by that. She wanted to know if Narcissa was talking about the abuse she allowed Draco to endure and if she really expected Lucius to be better. Instead, she decided to change the subject to not only avoid broaching a sensitive topic, but to avoid thinking of Lucius as a savior. "I've been meaning to ask, Draco is an only child and you seem to love being a mum, so why not have more children?"

Narcissa looked at Hermione for a long moment, all amusement gone before looking down at her empty tea cup, for once struggling with how to answer. When she decided what she would say she looked at the maze so she would not have to look at Hermione. "Before I answer your question, I will ask you to never ask a woman about having children whether she has them already or not. It's quite rude."

She heard Hermione take a sharp intake of breath. "I didn't mean to offend you-"

"I know. And I know you're sorry." The regret was thick in Hermione's voice, and while Narcissa wanted to teach Hermione a lesson, she did not want to have her panic. "I wanted a big family. I wanted the manor to be filled with the most precious cherub faces, not the silent collection of halls and rooms that it is. I was pregnant a total of seven times..." Narcissa felt a shiver run though her as she thought of one of her last few interactions with Voldemort. "But Draco was the only one that I was able to carry to term." When she was done, she looked at Hermione's horrified face. A hand covered her mouth and her eyes opened as wide as they could.

"I-I-" She wanted to say she was sorry, but couldn't. Hermione regretted asking about the children and vowed she would never ask anyone about it again like Narcissa had asked. A small part of her wondered why Narcissa allowed for Draco to have a rush childhood if that was the case, but dismissed the thought as soon as it had came. There was no way she would ask now.

Hermione fell silent again and Narcissa refilled her cup to break the silence. When Hermione was over her shock, but still felt too ashamed to start up conversation, Narcissa motioned to the book the girl had been clutching on to in her distress. "What are you reading?"

"Oh," Hermione's voice was small as she looked at the brown and orange cover. "It's a muggle book."

"Yes, I recognized it didn't come from our library." Her tone was teasing as Narcissa tried to lighten up the mood.

Hermione gave a nervous glance to Narcissa before placing the book on the table for the woman to look over. "It's by John Steinbeck. He was an American author, but my mother fell in love with the story."

Narcissa picked up the text and read the summary on the back of it. "Would you mind if I read it when you finished?"

"You- You want to read it?" Hermione's eyes brightened at the idea.

"Yes, it sounds interesting enough."

"Then I wouldn't mind at all, I had just finished reading it anyway." It was a small lie, but she was almost done and read it before. Hermione just wanted to be back in Narcissa's good graces again. "If you don't understand their vernacular, I had made a bit of a cheat sheet on the back of the title page.

Narcissa slipped to the page to see small handwriting that was in near perfect script. On some of the letters there was a slight wobbling, the only proof the handwriting belonged to a child. "Have you always preferred to write in cursive?" Narcissa remembered being surprised at Hermione's elegant penmanship, but never found a time to bring it up.

"I didn't have a choice. The school I went to forced us to write it, and to write with our right hands. At least I can say I'm ambidextrous because of it." Hermione had an embittered look on her face remembering the nuns in her school. When Hermione looked at Narcissa, she saw that she had started to read Of Mice of Men and Hermione smiled before deciding to drink her cup of tea instead of letting it go to waste.

By the time she reached the end of the cup she had decided that it was best to attempt putting her best foot forward again with Lucius. Narcissa had been pushing him to be civil, but he protected her and Harry from- probably- being expelled when saving Buckbeak. She got up and went inside, Narcissa never lifting her head from the book. Hermione started to descend the staircase to check Lucius' study as he always seemed to be there, when she ran into Draco instead.

"Hello, stranger."

Hermione smiled at him before stopping at putting her hands on her hips. "Not 'Hermy' this time?"

"Would you prefer I keep teasing you about being a recluse, 'Mione?" He smirked using Ron and Harry's nickname for her.

Hermione scrunched her nose as it sounded weird coming from him. "Whatever floats you boat, Drakey."

"I'll hex her for ever coming up with that blasted name." Draco's smirk vanished, but his eyes still had a playful glint to it. "What are you up to anyway?"

"I was having tea with your mum, but now I'm looking for Lucius." Hermione's face slightly twisted with distaste at the words. "Have you seen him?"

The boggart of a family portrait automatically popped in his head, teasing him. "You were having tea with my mum?" Usually Narcissa would have tea by herself or in the music room with him if he was practicing. It wasn't uncommon for her to spend time with him by listening to him play as she relaxed and watched with a proud eye.

"Yes." Hermione looked towards the hall that would bring her to Lucius' study. "She made some points about your father I thought I ought to address."

Draco raised his eye brows and crossed his arms as if he would be able to guard his jealousy by the act. "You're going to confront my father?"

Hermione ran a hand over her head before remembering that she didn't need to if Draco was being honest yesterday about the hair products working. "Well, it's actually to thank him. He helped me when I was in a tough spot."

Draco once again felt the green monster on his back grow. He looked up at the portrait of his mother and father above the fireplace with an envious glance. "Father must like you then. He doesn't help anyone."

Hermione snorted before looking up at the portrait he was starring at. "Or he wants something to hold above my head." The Lucius in the portrait turned his nose up higher when Hermione's eyes settled on him and the young Narcissa kept looking forward, ignoring the stares from both children.

Draco looked down at Hermione and she looked up at him. She was shocked to see his expression was somewhat scornful. "You wouldn't understand. You have nothing to offer him and yet he still prefers you."

Hermione, completely shocked by Draco's behavior raised a hand to her necklace. "What are you on about?"

Draco walked over to one of the couches in the foyer and threw himself unceremoniously on to it. "My whole life I've been told how wizards like you shouldn't exist, how you're undeserving of the magic that you wield, yet you come in and turn everything on its head! There are children's books that incriminate muggleborns! Yet they prefer you over me." Draco covered his face with his hands, trying to control the urge to cry. He hated feeling feeble. If his father were to see him now he would be cuffed over his ear for it. Or would he? Draco fleetingly thought about the talk he had with Lucius in his study before he was hit in the shoulder with a pillow Hermione had thrown at him, pulling him back to the present.

"I don't know what has gotten into you, Malfoy, but your father hardly tolerates me. I know that you're used to having all of the attention on you, but in case you forgot, I did not choose to be here." Draco could see that she was seething with anger and was trying to control herself.

"I know you didn't and that's not what I meant." Draco sat up and held the pillow to his chest with one hand while he gestured with the other. "I meant that my father has always been aggressive and very vocal on where he stood with social and political opinions. My mother has always stood by him yet both act as if they never spoke ill of your kind- Not that I want to see you hurt or anything, but none of this makes sense." Draco stood and started to pace, flipping the pillow in his hands as he spoke. "Even when his partners all left, he didn't do anything to harm you or the Minister- Drank a little more wine than usual, sure. Now he's almost friendly, he called me into his study-"

"He called you into- Draco, stop." Hermione stood in front of him to break his compulsive pacing and grabbed his face with both hands, forcing him to look at her. "Did he hurt you?" Hermione held her breath, partially hoping she was going to be given an excuse not to set aside her pride to thank Lucius, but mostly hoping Draco had been unharmed. She found it was true that giving up your ill feelings towards someone wasn't easy as she wanted to hold on to the hate she had for Lucius, but if it meant that her friend had been safe, it would have made her hurt pride worth it.

Draco felt the world stop with him when she put her warm hands on his face. "No, and that's the weird thing."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief as she dropped her hands. "I understand where you're coming from, you know. Well, to an extent." Hermione held her left hand up and pointed to a small scar across one of her knuckles. "The nuns at my primary school were convinced that if you wrote with your left hand, you were possessed by the devil so they would smack your hand with a ruler if they saw any of us writing with our left hand. They knew how to avoid leaving a mark so our parents wouldn't know, but one day, a nun had caught me at a wrong angle and opened my skin. My parents complained. And after that, they never hit me again- however my heart still raced whenever they corrected me and I would jump at every loud noise because I wasn't used to being untouchable." Hermione dropped her hands and looked up at him, this time taking note of the blue hidden in his gray eyes. "I never got used to it at that school so I can only imagine what it is like for you to have ideas forced down your throat for your entire life only to have it be changed so drastically. Bit of a whiplash, I reckon."

Draco could only nod, grateful she tried to relate to him. While he thought he was more tolerant of muggleborns than his parents and most of his house mates, he still found muggle culture to be extremely weird. "Is that normal practice for muggle schools? To hit children?"

Hermione gave a humorless smile. "No, but some muggles think they're more privileged than other muggles, too."

He knew the statement was a dig at pureblood supremacists, but what she said wasn't untrue so he chose not to comment. The conversation actually brought him back to when they were at the Granger's home and before he could think about it, he asked a question that had been on his mind since then. "What happened after you and your father went back?" Draco wanted to hear more about her life, specifically any struggles she had with her parents to see how alike their childhoods were. Did her parents force Hermione to keep secrets that would cause her friends to hate her if they learned the truth? Probably not, he thought glumly.

Hermione looked at him for a moment, not knowing what he was referring to until it finally clicked. "Oh! Well dad paid for her to see a therapist and she spent some time away from the dentistry." Draco didn't miss the guilty look that crossed her face when she looked off to the side. "I avoided her as much as I could for some time after that. I was petrified of being alone with her, but dad slowly brought us together again. He was a bit of a rock for both of us." Hermione gave a small smile remembering her father. "Mom and I never really agreed much, I realized. He was always the glue between us, not that we didn't love each other of course."

Draco noticed her voice grow more soft as she spoke and her eyes became misty. She was still in pain of course, but she was trying to make the best of every day. Draco decided that he had done enough prying and gave her an exaggerated, superior smirk. "So you finally found out you're in my father's debt for helping you and potty save Buckbeak, huh?"

Despite the playful glint in his eyes, Hermione put her hands on her hips, ready to unleash her feisty attitude. " I didn't ask him to help me and he didn't need to. He's going to try and take advantage of helping me, I know it."

Draco, amused that his teasing got him a reaction and get her away from distressing thoughts, went into a fit of laughter. "Relax, it's just a joke. I'll leave you to it, then." He tossed the pillow he was still holding at her and turned to go back to the manor's music room. He had grown to be so at ease with Hermione that he forgot his lessons on turning his back on others.

The only warning he got that the couch's pillow had been thrown at him was Hermione screaming "Pillow fight!" before it connected with the back of his shoulder. He caught it before it fell and was ready to throw it back as he turned on one foot, only to see she had hidden behind one of the three couches.

He couldn't help but grin as he walked in front of the middle couch. Draco immediately hid behind a couch himself and waited for her to stand up to look for him. He didn't have to wait too long before her curiously curly crown appeared over the third couches cushion. He quickly whipped the pillow over his head and she ducked just in time for it to collide with the cushion in front of her anyway.

"Well, I suppose it's a good thing that you're a seeker and not a Beater." He heard her fail to suppress a giggle and he started to feel the same tingle of competitiveness that he usually felt on the field. She can't best me in everything.

Draco quickly ran over to where she was and she shrieked from being surprised. He only used one hand to hit her with the pillow and she used hers to deflect it before whacking him with hers. "Hey!" He was caught off guard by the force she had behind the hit, but he was laughing and took it as a cue that it was fine to be a little rough back.

When Draco started to let loose a little more, Hermione fought back just as hard as she felt her competitive nature come out. She wasn't used to having someone who was able to keep up with her, but showed no signs of slowing down. They were both fighting off fits of laughter as they ran and jumped around the furniture, both forgetting to be proper and allowing themselves to be kids. They would alternate between throwing the other pillows and smacking each other with the ones in their hands. They only stopped when both of their pillows happened to connect and they sprayed feathers everywhere. When the feathers were mostly on the floor and their eyes met through the last of the plummage raining down on them, they burst into a laughter so hard that they were doubled over crying.

"We... We need to..." Draco tried talking through the laughter, but he would see a feather tangled in one of Hermione's curls and die of laughter again. "Crewe..." He gave up talking for a few minutes to try to compose himself. We need to get rid of this before-

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" Lucius walked out from the hall his study was in, eyes wide as he took in all the fathers on the floor. Seeing the look on his face would have set Hermione into another fit of giggles if she and Draco were not standing red-handed in the middle of a field of feathers.

"It was an accident-"

"Oh, don't you lie now." The portrait Lucius said. The portrait Narcissa seemed to be hiding behind her hands to hide whatever expression had her shoulders shaking. "That mudblood and your son were swinging the downy pillows as if they were clubs. It's ridiculous how you allow these two to act! Father is rolling around in his grave- or wherever you stuck his portraits!" The painted, young Lucius emphasized the word 'your' as if he had no relation to Draco, let alone be his father. Hermione realized something hearing the portrait speak: Perhaps Lucius thought he was being a good father because that the only type of parenting he knew? Her nose scrunched up thinking that wasn't much of an excuse, but found herself sympathizing to a certain extent.

"Well, you're not very nice- What if we were to decide to stuff you in the same dirty closet with the other nasty portraits?" Hermione's hands were back on her hips and she held the portrait's gaze no matter how angry he looked. She could faintly heard the clucking and tsks of the other portraits, but she paid them no mind.

"I'd like to see you try you little imp." The portrait Lucius' nostrils flared as he sneered at the girl. "I'm here on a sticking charm."

Hermione returned the sneer with a sweet smile of her own. "Oh, well if that's the case, that's nothing a little turpentine can't fix." The portrait Lucius' face fell being taken aback by her threat and Hermione gave a superior look. Draco wondered how she could speak so confidently with the feathers sticking out in every direction in her hair.

"Enough." Lucius took a wary step forward, wondering if he should avoid the feathers or not. He looked at Hermione, who squared her shoulders and seemed ready to be questioned. "What happened here? And," He held up a finger as she opened her mouth. "I want the truth."

Hermione closed her mouth, thinking one more time if a lie would be easier before telling the truth. "Draco and I had a pillow fight."

Lucius placed both of his hands in his pocket, something Hermione recognized Draco doing often when nervous or deep in thought. If it was any indication to how Lucius felt she caught him off guard. "A pillow fight." He repeated, confirming that he had trouble believing her.

"Yes, sir. I did start it though, so if," she took a deep breath as she hated to bringing the subject up. "If any one of us were to get in trouble it should be me."

Draco froze in place, too afraid to take too deep of a breath. What is she thinking? She doesn't know what she's asking for! There was a prolonged silent pause, allowing Draco to build the courage to look at his father's face. When he did, he saw the usual mask in place, but he didn't look flustered or anything of the like. A positive sign he hoped. When Draco's eyes fell on Hermione, she looked to have a serene face herself, but he noticed her rubbing a thumb along the edges of her ring.

"Very well." Lucius withdrew his wand and gathered the mess in a whirlwind before vanishing the feathers, the unharmed pillows and the two empty pillow cases.

"THAT'S IT?! 'VERY WELL'?!" Hermione and Draco both jumped and covered their ears. She never realized that a portrait could bellow as loud as the portrait had at that moment. Even Sir Cadogan, who was known to chase students through other portraits in the hall, calling them 'cur' and 'mongrel' when they declined his challenges to a duel, did not sound as loud. "The old man was right. You have no spine, you're a disappointment allowing that flea-" At the same time the portrait of Lucius pointed a finger at Hermione, Lucius raised his wand and cast a silencio before levitating the portrait off the wall and down another hall leading to the forbidden west wing.

"I would never ruin the walls of the manor with a sticking charm." Hermione and Draco shared a look, unsure if Lucius had spoken to them or to himself. After Lucius holstered his wand again, he gave them a serious look. "I've been looking for an excuse to get rid of those pillows for a while. I won't punish either of you, but if Narcissa asks, I will tell her what happened and leave you at her mercy. Now go, and don't break anything else." He glanced at both of them to ensure they understood before leaving them there. Lucius was almost to the end of the corridor he had sent the painting in when he heard his name being called.

"Lucius!" He turned to see Hermione chasing after him. While he was surprised for a second time, he didn't let it show and merely raised an eyebrow as a prompt to continue. Hermione made a show of taking a breath so deep she closed her eyes. When she exhaled she opened her eyes and re-squared her shoulders. "I wanted to say thank you- and not just for the feathers. Narcissa told me about how you had helped Harry and I."

How cute. Lucius usually found noble acts annoying, but he wasn't entirely irked that Hermione took it upon herself to put away her hate of him to apologize. He realized that she did everything with purpose and had her own agenda at all times- something he worked hard on when growing up and something he hoped to instill in Draco. He wouldn't let her know it though. "I don't know why you are thanking me, Narcissa informed you very early on in your stay that your actions affect all of us. I was doing what I needed to so we could avoid embarrassment."

Hermione's head fell to the side, but only slightly. She needed to make sure he nor Narcissa knew about the use of the time-turner without outright asking him. "You say that, but the consequences of sneaking Buckbeak out wouldn't have been that terrible. I've started to read up on the rights of creatures and even the most exasperating advocates barely got a slap on the wrist unless they harmed an official in the process of their protests." When Lucius did not bring up the time-turner she felt the anxious ball in her chest dissipate, allowing her to address the other concern she had. "I wanted to thank you because not only was I raised with manners, I wanted to make sure you were not under the impression I owed you anything."

Lucius let out a chuckle before he could stop himself. He covered it by resuming his walk down the corridor with a dismissive wave over his shoulder. "You would have nothing that I would want, consider your slate clean." When Lucius had reached the end off the hallway, he looked behind him to see that Hermione was no longer watching him. He pursed his lips in thought as he opened a door leading to stairs that lead underground to the Malfoy Archives. With every interaction he had with her, the more he found himself believing Snape's story.

"I've sent your dad several letters already, why didn't he just say he couldn't afford-"

"SSHHHHHH!" Ron glanced nervously around the room Hermione was sitting in. The topic of money was already a touchy subject with Ron and he was afraid that any conversations he had would be over heard by Draco, giving the blonde more ammunition for his bullying. "Dad has worked hard for us to be able to go to school and trying to buy dress robes or costumes for all of us isn't something he can afford right now. He didn't want all of King's Cross Station to know is all." Ron shifted his head to the side and Hermione recognized it as him trying to shrug a shoulder though the flames his body was in.

Hermione sighed, "I wish there was some way I could get out of going. I'm a muggleborn at a high class pureblood event, surrounded by Slytherins who would pay to put me on a rotisserie in front of everyone." She pinched the bridge of her nose as she focused on calming her nerves. When the designer came by, a bald, short, barrel chest man who had a mustache that curled twice at the ends, she could no longer deny that she was intimidated by the idea of the gala. Senor Siriano had made it that more real to her. "I've been to fundraisers and a muggle gala before, but this... This is another level, Ron." Hermione chewed her lip as she thought of the decorations outside. They were simple, but screamed magic everywhere she looked. "All I have are hundred year old etiquette books to help me."

"Don't you usually rely on hundred year old books anyway?" They both laughed at that and Ron felt butterflies in his stomach at the ability to make her smile. "Well, maybe they invited Neville and his grandmother. They're a pureblood family."

Hermione's smile dimmed a little, but she felt hope flicker in her. "Maybe they did. I could ask, I'm sure."

Ron gave his boyish grin that had Hermione's stomach tickling her insides in second year- even with her crush on Professor Lockhart. After the events of last summer- not to mention the very cold winter he contributed to- her crush on Ron had been long gone, although she did feel a bit nostalgic thinking of simpler times. "Plus, dad and Percy are still going. They're not Harry and I, but-"

"Ronald Weasley! What are-" As Molly's voice traveled closer to the fire place, the more Ron's face drained of color. "Is that Hermione?" Molly's voice sounded cheery all of a sudden and Hermione imagined it was forced after catching her son doing something he wasn't supposed to. Ron had mentioned to Hermione several times in the letters he sent her that he was going to try and use the floo to have a face to face conversation with Hermione, despite his parents telling him 'no' when he asked. Hermione tried to convince Ron to listen to them, but he was just as stubborn as her. "Hello, Hermione! How are you, dearie?"

"I'm doing fairly well, ma'am. Yourself?"

"I was just getting dinner ready when I discovered my youngest son didn't learn his lesson last summer on using magical things that were off limits to him." Ron's head disappeared with a pop only to be replaced by Molly's. Her highlighted red hair was toppled on the top of her head and she had what looked like flour on her cheek. "He knows better, so please forgive us for restricting him to owls only. Percy had us going through floo powder all last year with Penelope and it's only fair we restrict all children and not just the one."

"I understand, Mrs. Weasley." Secretly Hermione disagreed with group punishment, but couldn't find herself arguing with Mrs. Weasley. "I was just about to head off to dinner anyway. Please tell Ron 'goodbye' for me?"

"Will do, dear." Mrs. Weasley nodded before disappearing.

When Hermione stood she reached up to the ceiling, stretching out her whole body. When the muscles in her legs started to shake, she released the stretch to head to the library to grab a book before going to her room. She had lied to Mrs. Weasley when she said she was going to dinner as she and the Malfoys already ate, but it was obvious Ron would not be returning to the conversation. When Hermione had reached the double doors to the Library, she stopped before opening the door as her ears perked at the sound of music- Specifically music from a piano. She followed the soft notes further does the hall and saw a crack in the door where the telltale pink and purple lights of the sunset leaked through.

She gently pushed open the door and the scene in front of her was somewhat ethereal. One wall in the music room had windows that went from the ceiling to the floor, showing a beautiful view of the setting sun over the trees surrounding the manor. The sunset itself was beautiful, but the way the light bounced off the pearlescent Bosendorfer's grand piano was something that reminded Hermione of A Midnight Summer's Dream. What completed the magical scene was Draco sitting at the piano, hands flying across the ebony and ivory keys, as his hair bounced off the the sun's rays creating a small halo of light. The scene took Hermione's breath away and she leaned against the door frame. She didn't recognize the piece he was playing at all, but she didn't think about it as she gazed at her friend who was enthralled in the music created.

Draco didn't realize the door didn't close all the way when he entered the music room. He knew if he would have went straight to his room, he would have too much energy to sleep so he decided to use the piano to expel any extra energy he had. Draco started with Chopin's Winter Wind, the piece he had struggled with last year and continued, playing whatever difficult song came to mind that he could play. He didn't stop until the sun had set completely and when he did, he stared out of the windows of the music room, watching the last of the suns rays be swallowed up by the darkness. That was when he heard the soft padding of foot steps and turned around to see the door wide open with no one there.

He closed his eyes and cleared his mind, like he would when practicing occulemency. Instead of delving into inside of his mind though, he had cast it out to connect to the wards of the manor. Draco immediately found Hermione's ball of energy slipping in the library and he frowned. He wouldn't have minded if she approached him, but he understood why she hadn't done it. It was one of the same reasons why he didn't interrupt her when she was playing: It was respect. He started to smile at that, knowing her respect wasn't from a place of fear of his name or status before he thought back to the secret he had to keep from her, wondering again if it would be better to tell her the truth;

"I'm telling you this because the other Death Eaters at the Quidditch Cup won't care she is with us. They will see her as a mudblood and she will be targeted. You're the one who is going to need to protect her and get to safety." Lucius turned his piercing gaze on to his son, his drawling voice low with warning. "Do I make myself clear?"

Draco finally took a sip of the glass his father had forced into his hands. He was more than alarmed with the information that had been unloaded on him of Nott, Sr's plan for the World Cup, but his silver eyes were determined for once in the short time he had lived. "Yes, Father."

MotekElm: Yes! I was hoping I got it right. Thank you for your feedback!

Erythra-Selena: Thank you so much! It's hard to find that sweet inbetween.

Guest: Agreed.

CharmedMistletoe: I hope I can make it as interesting as I want it to be!

InsideTheFridge: I'm happy to hear :))))