The morning after the attack, Hermione was absentmindedly picking a slice of toast into pieces, when she was startled by the arrival of a guest. A slightly nervous looking Draco stepped into the room, looking around him.
"Is he really back to normal?" Draco asked.
"As normal as he'll ever be," Hermione said with a half-smile.
Draco snorted and walked up to her, frowning as he took in her appearance. She knew full well what he saw, because she had been greeted by the very same image in the mirror. Suffice it to say that her reflection had shook her head condescendingly and walked away.
She had not even bothered to go to bed the night before, instead sitting up to think things through until she fell asleep from pure exhaustion on the sofa. And while all that thinking had resulted in a numer of important realizations, those realizations had left her feeling restless in a way she hadn't since she'd run from Lucius's home that first night of their re-aquaintance.
Draco looked around again. "Where is he?" he asked curiously.
"At home."
Draco paused and raised his eyebrow in a way that was eerily reminiscent of his father. "What happened?"
Hermione sighed, pulling at a stray curl of her hair, winding and unwinding it around her finger. It was a nervous habit she took up whenever she had too many thoughts in her head and was probably one of the reasons she looked the way she did this morning.
"Well", she said, "first he woke up. We ate and talked a bit. Then we were attacked by the man that raped me when I was fourteen, and when we had overpowered him Lucius produced a patronus, and sent it to Harry, and – "
"He did what?" Draco interrupted. She nodded, biting her lip. "Yeah. A white tiger."
Draco was stunned. And that was the first thing she had been forced to accept: Lucius was no longer a Death Eater. It was true that he had been, and that meant that he had condoned, encouraged and done things that were cruel and inhuman and simply unacceptable on every level . She could never forget that. She suspected that she would always feel sorrow and anger and shame at the thought. But it was also crucial that he changed and begun to face the truth. And that meant that the new Lucius Malfoy was a fairly decent person all in all. Which brought her to realization number two: She trusted him. With her life, and also – since yesterday – with other people's lives. Simple as that.
"Why isn't he here?" Draco asked, scrutinizing her. He knew something was wrong. Darned slytherins to have such perceptive skills.
"I needed to think", Hermione said evadingly.
Draco rolled his eyes. "Great. Should I call Lovegood and ask for more of those bloody potions?"
Hermione chuckled and shook her head. She nodded toward the fireplace. "You should go see him."
"Yeah", Draco said, but he didn't move. "What about you?"
Hermione shook her head.
"No messages?"
"You should make sure he's talked to a healer since yesterday", she said. "He took a nasty blow to his head."
Draco watched her for a moment, then sighed, walked up to the chair across from her and sat down on it with his arms crossed. "Did he do something?" he asked. "Or did you just decide you don't like him after all? Now that you don't need him."
Hermione shook her head again. That was her third realization: she may not need Lucius exactly, but she wanted him in her life. She wanted him so badly it almost hurt. Not just because she had gotten used to him being around, but because she liked him. He made her temper boil, and made her laugh. He challenged her and put her in her place. He made her feel safe. He made her feel beautiful and alive. And he allowed her to be less than good. Less than the perfect image of the war heroine. She liked to laugh at him for not knowing how to boil an egg and she liked to hate that he refused to wash his own shirts.
Draco waved his hand in front of her face, reminding her that she wasn't alone. She smiled sheepishly. "I just need to think things through, Draco."
Apparently, Draco didn't find that a good enough explanation for the separation. He cleared his throat, crossing his arms again. "Look, this isn't really a conversation I want to have, but I have to ask. Are you in love with my father?"
Hermione would have expected that question from almost anyone else but Draco. He'd never given her the impression of being very comfortable talking about feelings. Or about his father's love life, for that matter. And the way he blushed and tapped his fingers on his arm made it quite clear she was right. She admired his resolve because she knew he only asked because he cared. Whether it was her or his father he was more worried about, however, she couldn't tell.
"I am", she heard herself admit.
She couldn't deny it. Hermione was in love with Lucius Malfoy. The whole night, she had fretted over this fourth realization. She loved him, she trusted him, she thought fairly well of him, and she desired him. That could only mean one thing: somehow, Lucius Malfoy had come to match all her criteria for what she wanted from a partner, from a relationship. From a man.
When Draco didn't respond, she looked up to find him looking at her in a calculating way. "So what's the problem?" he asked. "Why is he at the Tower and you here?"
"I – it's complicated – I needed time..." She faltered at the disbelieving look Draco was giving her. "All right, I'm terrified", she admitted.
She was terrified. Because she wanted a long term relationship with Lucius, but had no idea of what he wanted. He had never intimated that he wanted more than sex. Sure, he had practically moved in with her for a while and helped her through one of the hardest times of her life. But he had always – mostly – kept a strict line between his role as a helpful antidote to panic attacks and his role as a potential lover. And apart from that one time when she had freaked him out by crying when he kissed her, he had made no advances.
Well, apart from that kiss the other night, of course, but that didn't mean that he was still attracted to her. He had been elated that he had produced a patronus, that was explanation enough. Besides, she knew she looked awful after these months of anxiety. While he was perhaps thinner and more wiry after his hibernation, he was certainly still very well worth looking at. In fact, she'd spent a good portion of the night fantasizing about him sweeping her up in his arms, telling her he loved her and then proceeding to seduce her. But if Draco's reaction today was anything to go by, she certainly wasn't looking her best.
And yesterday, after the others had left, he had been so oddly distant. He hadn't come to sit by her, as he usually did. He'd hardly spoken to her. Sure, he had asked if she wanted to stay, but she couldn't tell if he wanted to. She knew she hadn't handled things very well. She had been so overwhelmed by everything that she was afraid of almost any possible reaction from him - whether it was rejection or platonic caregiving or the fulfilment of her deepest hopes and desires. So she had been evasive, talked about his head injury. Only afterwards had she realized she could have offered to go with him. But in any case, he had simply left without as much as a word. What did that mean?
Draco snorted derisively.
"So you're hiding. Good idea, Granger. That should help." Draco stood and headed back toward the fireplace. Before he disappeared in the magic flames, he added with an expressive eye roll: "Just deal with it already."
When he was gone, Hermione let out a long breath. She should deal with it. But what if, after all that had happened this past year – the months of separation after she had demanded his help with her research, her mental breakdown, his mental lockdown, the revelation of what Ed had done to her and everything else – Lucius had simply realised that she wasn't what he had wanted after all? A woman half his age, tarnished, unstable and not at all as mysterious as she might once have appeared? She had honestly never quite understood his attraction to her in the first place.
What if – in short – she had fallen in love with him, only to find that he didn't want her?
A few more days passed. Harry and Ginny stopped by to check on her and give an update on Ed. The Ministry professionals had extracted his memories and created muggle artefacts that could be used as evidence against him in court – videotapes and pictures mostly, but also some things with his DNA on them. Names, dates, other circumstances had also been recorded and delivered to the muggle authorities.
Harry had been involved in the process, and though he tried to keep his tone matter of fact, Hermione realised he must have seen some of Ed's memories first hand and that he was upset by them. There had been a lot of girls, from every place he had visited, from England to Australia. All of his crimes couldn't be prosecuted, but they hoped he would get enough years to be put away for a few decades at least.
Now, they had obliviated him, so that he could neither remember her or even her parents, nor anything about the magic community. He'd even forgotten about the magic that had pushed him farther and farther away from England and was made to believe he'd been driven by some sort of desire for adventure. All in all, the wizarding world was safe from him, but until he was caught by muggle police he was a threat to everyone else. A couple of aurors had been especially assigned to keep him under surveillance, but Hermione didn't regret the special curse she had used on him.
"Did he ever kill someone?" Hermione asked, thinking of the knife he had pressed against her throat. She was surprised it wasn't haunting her dreams, because she was frequently reminded of it during in daytime.
Harry sighed and Ginny put her hand on his shoulder, obviously having heard some of this before. "There was one girl... I don't know if she survived. I don't think he ever aimed to kill her or anyone else, except for you perhaps. But he did become increasingly violent." Harry pulled his fingers through his hair, looking into empty space as he struggled to find the words. "He just didn't seem to care, you know. None of us looked more at his memories than we were forced to in order to fabricate the evidence against him, but it was horrible. Worse than seeing someone get crucioed. It was just so... so private. Like he not only hurt them, but really violated them -"
Harry shuddered. Ginny seemed to have nudged him then, because Harry suddenly looked up at Hermione, who quickly wiped away a tear that had trickled down her cheek. He looked aghast. "Oh, Mione, I'm sorry! I wasn't thinking –"
She tried to smile reassuringly, but the simultaneous sniffle didn't do much to convince him she was fine. And she wasn't. She took a shuddering breath. "Don't worry, It's good to have someone understand."
Harry and Ginny both came to sit beside her, one on each side, and put their arms around her. She started to cry for real then, for more things than she might have been able to put into words. They held her firmly, telling her without words that things might not be all right, at least she wasn't alone.
A few hours, many cups of tea and a whole lot of reassurances that she was okay later, Harry and Ginny got up to leave. Hermione was ready for bed, and hugged Harry goodbye first, smiling fondly as she saw him vanish through the floo. She expected Ginny to follow him straight away, but her friend seemed to have other plans.
"We need to talk about Malfoy senior", she said in a tone of voice that brooked no opposition.
Hermione groaned when she realized she had been cornered. "Harry's not expecting you home for another hour or so is he?"
"Not until tomorrow", Ginny said with a grin, flipping her fiery red hair over her shoulder. "He's gotten quite good at keeping a straight face, hasn't he?"
"Yeah, I've noticed", Hermione muttered.
She should have known Ginny wouldn't miss an opportunity to meddle. But while Hermione really was tired, she had to admit she longed to talk to someone about Lucius. And Ginny wasn't only her best girl friend, she was the one who was closest to knowing their entire story from the beginning. In addition, Ginny had proven to be rather unfazed by the whole thing in spite of her less than friendly feelings toward Lucius.
"Will we be requiring more tea?" Hermione asked in defeat.
"I've got something better!" Ginny fished out a bag of assorted chocolates from her bag. Bless Ginny, she knew what it would take to keep Hermione awake at this time of night! So Hermione resigned herself to another night of little sleep, a lot of prodding from her nosy friend and hopefully, some relief from her own thoughts.