Hermione could hardly believe her eyes and ears. She had not in her wildest dreams expected this. Why? Because it was supposed to be impossible! Lucius was an ex-Death Eater. And there was one thing Death Eaters couldn't do, one spell they could never perform. Everyone knew that.

But when Lucius raised his wand and with a look of deep concentration pronounced the words "Expecto patronum!", a silver light emerged from the tip of his wand. With a gasp, Hermione's eyes followed the ethereal light as it swept through the room until it took the distinct form of an easily recognizable feline. Open-mouthed, Hermione met the gaze of Lucius's patronus.

A tiger. A white tiger.

It prowled towards her, majestic and graceful. Hermione sunk down on her knees so that her eyes were level with the tiger's and reached out her hand. She knew it wasn't solid enough to touch, but it seemed to understand the gesture and graciously stretched its neck to meet her hand, as if pleased with the attention.

Hermione looked up at Lucius with wonder. His focus, however, was wholly upon the shimmering tiger, which now turned toward its master expectantly. The tail seemed to be twitching eagerly as it listened. "Hermione has been attacked", Lucius dictated, "but is unharmed. Come quickly." He was sending a message. The tiger blinked, and lept through the closed window into the night. Lucius looked after it, seeming almost shocked himself.

"How...?" Hermione stuttered.

Lucius turned towards her with a breathtaking smile. In two strides he was in front of her, knelt, caught her face between his hands and pressed his lips to hers.

Lucius had produced a Patronus! That could only mean one thing: he was no longer a Death Eater. He was his own person. Lucius Malfoy, with all his faults and all his attractions, was free. Not altogether good, perhaps, but no longer bound by evil.

And Ed, the man who had raped her, traumatized her and threatened to kill her, was currently the size of a rat, guarded by her cat, and watching Lucius kiss her.

Hermione might be excused for feeling a little overwhelmed at that moment. She felt as if she was about to explode from the intensity and sheer volume of feelings warring inside of her: joy, fear, anger, desire, relief, pride, hope, exhilaration, exhaustion... It was all too much. She needed to think, to have time to react to one thing at a time. But there was no time to think. Breathless and overwhelmed, she pulled back from Lucius just in time to see the green flames of the floo announce a visitor.

Peering over Lucius's shoulder, Hermione was happy to see Harry enter the room. His wand was raised as he alertly looked around him. When Lucius turned his head to greet him, Harry looked at him with unfeigned astonishment. Hermione wondered if that was because Lucius was no longer impersonating a living statue or because he was smiling in the most un-villain like manner she had ever seen.

"That was your patronus?" Harry asked Lucius, reflecting the same incredulity Hermione was still experiencing.

"Yes", Lucius answered with a grin as he and Hermione got back on their feet.

Harry stared at him. "Well congratulations, I guess," he said after another few moments. When Harry took another look around him, his eyes fell on Crookshanks and the miniature muggle the cat was guarding. "That's him?" Harry spat and then paused. "What did you do to him?"

Before either of them had a chance to speak further, the floo flamed again, and a woman in her sixties stepped into the room right behind Harry. Hermione thought she looked vaguely familiar, but couldn't remember meeting her. The woman reminded her of professor McGonagall somehow, both in terms of age and style.

"Everything under control, Mr Potter?" the woman asked.

Harry tore his eyes off the cat and its pray, nodded, and proceeded to make introductions. "Hermione, Mr Malfoy, this is Mrs Theophilia Watts. She was the one who came to your house when you'd fought off that scum the first time." Harry glared at Ed for good measure, who took another step backwards, pressing his back against the wall. "I figured the circumstances are kind of special here, with that guy being a muggle and all. Mrs Watts is an expert on magic law and is already familiar with the story." He turned to the older woman. "Mrs Watts, this is Hermione Granger of course, and Mr Lucius Malfoy."

"I am glad to see you again, Miss Granger", the older woman said. "Although I am sorry it is under such terrible circumstances. How are you feeling?"

"I hardly know," Hermione answered truthfully, wrapping her arms firmly around herself.

Mrs Watts only nodded, and greeted Lucius. She wasn't hostile like most people tended to be, but certainly wary. "Mr Malfoy." He inclined his head politely.

Mrs Watts looked at the man in surprise, as if she hadn't quite noticed him until now. "Just to be clear", she said slowly, looking back at Hermione and Lucius. "My job here is to make sure everything is done in accordance with the law. I will, however, ignore the fact that you have shrunk a muggle, which would normally be punishable by prison. Given the special circumstances", she continued with another look at Ed, "I find myself quite willing to discuss any suggestions you may have as to how this man ought to be taken care of. As long as they are not too creative."

Together, Hermione and Lucius told the others the gist of what had happened. Mrs Watts and Harry then filled them in on what the basic plan for Ed would be: to turn Ed over to the muggle authorities. They were all fairly sure Hermione wasn't the only woman he'd attacked, so they planned to use his memories to fabricate evidence of his crimes and send them to the muggle police. Hopefully, it would prove informative enough for them to find at least some of the women he'd hurt and put him on trial.

They all looked to Hermione for her opinion. She glanced at Ed, who was shaking his head desperately but didn't seem willing to risk protesting out loud. Ed would go to prison, and a number of women would get some sort of justice. "It's a good start", Hermione agreed. "But it's not enough. The muggle police is all right, but the system isn't exactly fool proof. He might not be sentenced to more than a few years, if he's prosecuted at all."

Hermione's arms were still wrapped around her upper body, and the thought of Ed's crimes being somehow excused by a court of law made her grasp her upper arms rather painfully. She saw Lucius look at her with a worried frown, making a step toward her. Normally, she would have welcomed it, but right now, she wouldn't risk it. She was barely keeping herself together and they needed to get on with this. She longed for his touch, but so much of her mental overload right now had to do with him, with them.

Hermione dissuaded him with a small movement of her hand, offering him a weak attempt at a smile. Lucius nodded, but she could read his expression well enough to feel bad about it. Still, she felt that she just couldn't take much more of anything - good or bad - at the moment.

"I might have an idea", Lucius said after another few moments.

"A creative one, I suppose?" Mrs Watts said drily, making Lucius smirk.

"Perhaps Ed here might not be so eager to inflict pain on other people if he was to share their experience firsthand", Lucius said darkly. "I know a spell, or rather a set of spells, that would make him feel what the other person is feeling."

"All the time?" Harry asked with a frown. "He could use that to his advantage."

Lucius shook his head. "No, it would only be activated when he was being violent – either verbally or physically. And it wouldn't be a matter of simply knowing what the other person felt - but to actually be invaded by the feeling. The pain, the panic. And it would only be the effects of his actions, not for example her courage or willingness to fight. There wouldn't be any way for him to escape the hurt."

After Hermione thought about it, she nodded her approval. Honestly, it was brilliant. Though still not enough.

"I think that would be an acceptable amendment, Mr Malloy", Mrs Watts agreed. "I suggest you perform the spell right away. Then we'll take him to the Ministry to examine his memories before we obliviate him. We'll set him free after that, but not without surveillance until he is safely in police custody."

"He'll be completely obliviated?" Hermione clarified. "He won't even remember what he did to me?"

"I think that is wisest", Mrs Watts said. "His memories of you are so closely connected to magic, we'll probably need to erase you entirely from his memory."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, but Lucius looked a little put out. "I agree that it is probably for the best", Lucius said to Hermione when she raised her eyebrow. "It just seems a pity that he won't remember what it was like to be at your mercy. Or Crookshanks." Lucius turned to Harry with a hopeful expression. "But perhaps something could be saved? Surely there is no harm in a recurring nightmare?"

Harry smirked. "I'll see what I can do."

"What about the magic connection I seem to have created?" Hermione asked. "Won't it enable him to find me again, without intending to?"

"I'm glad you brought that up, Miss Granger", Mrs Watts nodded approvingly. "Since last time we met, I have done quite a lot of research into your special talent for unintentional magic. I'll be happy to share it with you some time, but for now, it is perhaps enough to say that there are at least two ways to break the spell. In some cases, the magic may latch on to a specific object -" If Mrs Watts noticed the look between Hermione and Lucius, she didn't show it. Harry certainly didn't. He seemed too busy soaking up her every word she said. "In that case, it is enough to simply destroy the object in question."

"And if there is no such charmed object?" Hermione asked.

"I'll show you. But before we expose that muggle to any more magic, he needs to be restored to his normal size", Mrs Watts decided. She instructed Lucius to reverse his shrinking spell, and made sure Harry was ready to stupefy him if he tried to escape. She then fixed Ed with a sharp glare. "You will not move a limb, young man. Is that understood?"

Ed nodded reluctantly, and with another wave of Lucius's wand, he began to return to hus usual height. Crookshanks kept his ground, now standing right next to Ed's worn out sneakers, looking up at him with his usual inscrutable gaze. Ed looked as if he would have liked to give Crookshanks a good kick, but was wise enough to refrain. Still, the cat hissed and turned around to jump up on the back of the sofa instead.

"Incarcerus", Mrs Watts pronounced, and Ed groanes as he was once again tightly bound by ropes.

"You can't do this to me!" he whined. "I swear I'll - " Harry quickly silenced him with a flick of his wand. The man tried to scream louder, but it wasn't working. Hermione had never appreciated magic more than now.

"Harry, Mr Malfoy, would you be so kind as to bring that person over here?" Mrs Watts asked, moving to stand beside Hermione. Once Ed stood in front of them, glowering at Hermione in particular, Mrs Watts released one of his hands from the ropes. Lucius quickly grabbed it and held it out firmly.

Next, Mrs Watts instructed Hermione to take Ed's hand. She really didn't want to. Those hands had invaded her body and soul in the most obscene and disturbing ways. She didn't want to touch him, but trusting Mrs Watts, she forced herself to do it anyway. His hand was cold and clammy, and she shuddered involuntarily.

"Do you feel anything?" Mrs Watts asked.

Hermione concentrated. At first, there was nothing except nausea, but then she felt it. It was like a trace, a tingle of magic that she recognized as her own. "Yes, there's magic there."

"That would be the connection you once created", Mrs Watts nodded. "Now, I want you to imagine catching hold of that magic as if you had caught it in your hand."

Hermione closed her eyes. She had to chase the magic, much like she imagined Harry chased a snitch during a quidditch game. Finally, she managed to catch it, and nodded, still with her eyes closed.

"Are you holding it in your hand?" Mrs Watts asked. Hermione nodded again. "Good. Now imagine it is a soap bubble. When you close your fist, it will break."

Hermione could almost feel the pop of the magic connection disappearing. By the shocked look in Ed's eyes, he had felt it too. He tried to pull her hand free, but Hermione held onto it and looked him in the eyes. "Sooner or later, I will forget about you", she said. Shocked, he snatched his hand back as if she had burned him.

Mrs Watts adjusted the ropes so that Ed was again completely bound. She then switched places with Lucius and nodded for him to proceed with his part.

"Stay still, or I might lose my focus and turn you into a frog", Lucius warned gleefully as Ed started to struggle, and then began to mutter a string of spells and turn his wand in a complicated pattern. With a final movement, a single red jet of light shot out and hit Ed straight in his forehead. The man jumped, but otherwise seemed unharmed. He glowered at them in a way that didn't frighten anyone - not even Hermione.

"Good", Mrs Watts said briskly when Lucius lowered his wand. "Let's get this person to the Ministry."

Ed was shaking his head intently, silently begging Hermione to stop them as Mrs Watts and Harry began to pull him toward the door. Hermione knew this would be the last time she saw him. She thought of what they had agreed on. Muggle prison, provided the police did their job. A spell to inflict the same pain on him as he tried to inflict on others. Good - but not enough.

"Wait!" Hermione pulled out her wand from her sleeve and directed it straight at Ed's face. Before any of the others, least of all Ed, had a chance to react, she intoned "Intentio scribturam".

Once again, Ed seemed more surprised and confused than hurt by the magic that hit him. Harry opened his mouth as if to question what she'd done, but a slight shake of the head from Mrs Watts silenced him. The two aurors pulled Ed outside the door and apparated with him to the Ministry to begin sorting out the rest.

Once they were alone, Lucius watched Hermione walk over to the couch and slowly sink down onto it. She was obviously exhausted. It was as if she had held herself up by pure will power, and now that the ordeal was over, she deflated before his eyes. Back to human size. He was so proud of her. She had not only faced down her tormentor but also shown in a million sublte ways that she would not acknowledge any right of his to hurt her, that she was and always would be far superior in every imaginable way.

Normally, he would have followed her without hesitation. He would have sat down next to her and pulled her into his arms. That was what he wished to do, but he didn't move. Because for some reason, this was the moment it struck him that he had never actually asked her if she wanted him here. She had told him she did a long time ago, but the circumstances were different then. There was no longer anything for her to fear. She had even learned to handle the panic attacks on her own. She had been forced to, in fact, because he had been absent in her time of need. And her subtle rejection earlier had made him uncertain of what she wanted.

As he watched Hermione's still figure, Lucius himself was tormented by the images of Ed violating her again in his very presence. That abominable man had touched her, pressed a knife to her throat, goaded her and tortured her with his malicious story about her parents. He hadn't been able to stop Ed from hurting her. It was only thanks to Crookshanks that Ed had been distracted long enough for Lucius to make a move and give her a chance to get her wand. She might have handled this quite as well without him.

So much had happened that he had no idea what she was thinking. Was she angry with him? Disappointed? He had promised to protect her after all, and failed. And then he had been knocked unconscious, leaving her to fend for herself again. Which she had done admirably. But still. Besides, it was clear that she had not forgotten what he used to be. Her reluctance to hand him his wand proved as much. Could she ever trust him completely?

The silence was becoming unbearable. "What was that spell?" He asked, just to say something.

"Intentio scribturam", Hermione mumbled, leaning her elbows on her knees, and pressing her hands against her temples. "If Ed somehow escapes the police, or the court doesn't find the evidence enough to sentence him to imprisonment -" Hermione trailed off.

"Yes?"

She sighed. "Whenever he has bad intentions with regard to a woman, she will see the word rapist written across his forehead. Only she will be able to see it, and she'll probably think she's gone crazy, but I bet she'll still be wary of being alone with him. That way she'll have at least a chance of getting away in time. If she doesn't – your spell hopefully makes him stop before it goes too far."

Lucius nodded. She still wasn't looking at him. Why wasn't she looking at him? The heavy silence settled again, but Lucius couldn't stand it for more than a few seconds. "Do you want me to stay?" he rushed out.

Hermione finally raised her head and looked up at him, her eyes full of emotions he couldn't read. "You should go to St Mungo's", she mumbled. "I'm not skilled enough to do a proper examination. You might have a concussion, or worse."

"I'm fine", Lucius answered automatically, though that couldn't be farther from the truth. His head felt all right, though it probably would be wise to call his physician. But something in his chest constricted painfully at the realization that she hadn't invited him to stay.

Perhaps he should have said something, but he didn't know what to say. So he forced himself to go over to the fireplace. Soon, the green flames obscured her from view. As if she had only been a fanciful dream, impossible for him to hold onto.

When he came home, he forced himself to produce another patronus. He had to dig deep inside to find any trace of happiness. When he did it the first time, to send a message to Potter, he had used that trickle of feeling that had run through him in the midst of his confusion as she had mentioned the word "love" and seemed to mean him. Now, he had to reach deeper, further. He sifted through the memories – all tainted with sorrow: his sister Lyra playing with him as a child, holding Draco in his arms as a new born baby, kissing Hermione in the moonlight on that evening of truth telling, the moment he had proved to himself that he could produce a patronus and that the chains of the past were finally shattered.

He did not know which memory it was – perhaps all of them combined – but after some struggle, he managed to summon the white tiger. It didn't cure the sharp ache in his chest, but at least he had some company.