Chapter Eight: The Griffin Door

Seven Years Ago...

The aftermath of Severus' letter was profound. After Draco traumatized the dining room along with his family, he moved throughout the house, looking for a place where his despair would not follow him. Through the library, the gardens and his rooms, Draco brought a torrent of loss and disaster.

For hours he completed this tirade, with Hermione remaining huddled with Narcissa and Lucius in their rooms. A dark silence consumed them. His parents felt pain stemming from helplessness, knowing that their son had been betrayed by a man he trusted greatly and admired from infanthood. However, Hermione was nursing a broken heart; she felt such pity for Draco, but she could not think of how to nurture him along with the cavernous emptiness of her own feelings.

Finally, her courageous impatience won out, and Hermione placed down the never-ending cup of tea Narcissa had begun serving her hours ago. The matriarch startled and stood with her.

"Hermione, you shouldn't leave just yet; he may need more time."

Lucius, leaning on a window sill in the corner, silently nodded his head in agreement while never taking his eyes off of the hedge maze that stood beneath his gaze. He seemed forever lost in thought over the last days. He seemed to be constantly replaying events in his head while refusing to narrate them, even to his darling wife.

"No, Narcissa, enough is enough," Said Hermione. "I will not sit here while my husband is storming around in a tantrum. I had other things planned for today."

With a deep sigh, her Mother-in-Law nodded and collected Hermione's teacup in a tray, hoping that by busying herself, somehow the events would pass easier.

Hermione left the rooms, and cautiously walked into the hallway of the family wing. Destruction was too light of a word to describe what she found. The plush silver carpets running across the old hardwood floors were littered with splinters and glass. Moving her eyes to the walls, she saw figures of long-gone Malfoy family Members clinging to each other, huddled beside large tears in their canvases. The panelling of the walls showed evidence of Draco's deep rage, with chunks missing. Chandeliers and candelabras were wrenched from their brackets. Priceless antiques lay strewn and broken on the floor.

What a fucking child, she thought. She found herself cringing with anger as she crossed this no-mans-land of chaos. She made her way to her rooms, her oasis of calm in the recent storm of her life, and found a gaping hole instead. The doors were, frankly, missing, with damage on either side. Draco was obviously raging without a wand, no funnelling mechanism for this level of anguish.

Moving into her rooms, she saw that all of her books were dragged from her shelves and lay in tatters. Her personal items from her life before him were scattered around the rooms, mostly fine. It was a focused attack, she realized. Her eyes moved around the room again before landing on her wardrobe. Here, she couldn't help but smirk.

Her wardrobe boasted only one door, hanging on by a thread, and what could only be described as a vastly expensive ribbon collection laying on the bottom of the cupboard.

"So you disapprove of the woman I have become, do you?" She said to the empty room. Laughing quietly to herself, she replied, " if it is the old Hermione you wanted, you should have just said so."

Moving to her doorway, she took out her wand, " Porta Repairo." Throwing up a protego for good measure, she waited for the slivers of her old doors to pull back together. Finally, after a few agonizing moments, the dark walnut doors re-emerged, with the dark wrought iron hardware to match. All of the doors in the family wings of Malfoy Manor were identical, but it was clear that Draco did not feel that she was welcome. So, as always, she would support him.

Taking her wand firmly in her hand, she began the incantation, "sicut mandatum." Keeping the image firmly in her mind, she drew the pattern of her spell over the door. Finally, over many minutes, the image began to etch into the wood. The Griffin took up the entire door. Its posture authoritative and proud. The wings came up behind it with elegance and lustre. The eyes became dark beads of an austere gaze. Once the Griffin began to look alive, Hermione wove in the most powerful wards she had ever created. Inspired by living on the run, it was ironic that she would be using them to protect herself once again after her dark days in this same Manor.

Finally, after a wave of bright blue light scattered along the edges of her accomplishment, she felt at ease. Before moving back into her rooms, she decided to take a walk around the corridors. As she passed Her in-law's rooms, she was cut off by the Patriarch himself.

"Are you sure it wise to wander the halls, Hermione?" He said. "I cannot account for your safety, regardless of your bravery."

She replied, scoffing at him, "says the man hiding in his rooms from his mercurial son."

With an amused smile, he tilted his head, accepting the jibe. "My dear girl, not all is as it appears. Be patient with him."

Folding her arms, she returned his smile and replied, " Is that so, father mine? I see it quite clearly. You seem to be hiding from your guilt rather than Draco."

With a sharp intake of breath, Lucius stepped back from the woman. "You know not of what you speak."

Inching towards him, she replied, "certainly I do. I, too, was in the war, Lucius. Whatever you and Severus know about Pansy is your business. But to keep it from Draco is cruelty. The fact that you cannot bear to tell him only confirms my suspicions that the truth would hurt him deeper than whatever lies you have decided to apply."

Lucius stood agape, eyes brimming with a truth he would never speak. "Be careful, my dear. That is all I mean to say. Be careful with him."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione pursed her lips in thought before turning to walk away, "Perhaps it is time that your lot realize it is me you should be more careful of."

Hermione spent the next several hours contemplating her predicament while walking up to each individual portrait that suffered the wake of Draco's crime. Painstakingly, she would connect the torn patches of canvas and complete repairs.

We will all sleep peacefully tonight, she thought.

Eventually, she made her way to the portrait of the great Abraxas. After silently repairing his portrait, he looked down on her.

" How gracious of the future Lady of our house to shine such care upon us," He said.

Hermione sighed in reply. " You live in a canvas; your life is already bad enough."

As Hermione finished up, he left her with surprising words. " My grandson is a passionate young man and more sensitive than I would like to acknowledge. Perhaps if you handled him more as the woman you are, rather than the woman you expect yourself to be, you would find greater comfort in him."

nodding quietly, Hermione gave him a questioning look, " and why would a purist such as yourself stoop to offering a mudblood like me such valuable advice?"

With a voluminous laugh, he replied, " Ha! For one, my line has no choice but to tolerate you. Secondly, you fuck like a pureblood just as well as you act like one. It is the boy who needs to get his shit together. Good day, Madam Malfoy."

With a small bow of her head, Hermione made her exit. Madam Malfoy, eh? She had never heard it said out loud to her before. Narcissa always said that it was the highest title she could earn until she herself passed, then once she gave birth, the title would be changed to Lady Malfoy. Worst of all, it was a title bestowed rather than earned through hard work and studies, much to Hermione's dismay. The Matron never specified the details, always smiling, saying that Hermione would know when it was time.

While mulling over these thoughts, she began to see the portraits she passed in a new light. They no longer jeered at her but thanked her for her kindness after the heir's petulance. She graciously bowed her head as they spoke to her. Perhaps she was not alone in her helplessness, after all.

After a few more steps, she noticed that they were not simply thanking her. They were thinking Madam Malfoy; she slowed her steps until the singular chanting became a soft chorus. She took in the moment, realizing that through all of this chaos, she was being crowned. The crown was heavy and felt like more of an insult than a gift, but it was hers none the less.

The chanting continued as she made her way down the corridor and the great staircase. She feared to look, but someone had to check in on the library. As she turned the corner of the great hall, she heard the chorus had passed her and now also came from portraits ahead of her that she repaired hours ago. The Manor was bursting with supportive energy for their mudblood Griffindor. The confidence she gained from vandalizing her rooms had lead to the home embracing her self-assured authority.

As she turned into the hall that would lead to her precious library, she saw him. He was leaning on the back of his heels, with his knees holding up an obviously exhausted body. His hair was tasselled and greasy, his face, hands and arms were covered in small, bloody marks. No doubt given to him from the fragments and glass Hermione had cleared on her previous missions. His hands rested with open palms resting on his knees. His eyes were glued to the floor tiles a metre in front of him, glazed and watery. Meanwhile, his gorgeous clothes from this morning hung off of him in taters.

The chorus of support for her echoed throughout the halls and side rooms. While waiting for her husband to make a move, she decided to embrace her small piece of superiority and indulged herself by being taken over by the sound of Madam Malfoy, thank you, Madam Malfoy.

Finally, her husband's dry lips turned into a small smile. His head began to nod knowingly. He seemed to ignore her for a time, soaking in the realization that the Manor had bestowed the bushy-haired Granger a title that Pansy would have killed to earn. Finally, he came to some kind of acceptance.

It started with his shoulders, a small tremor that grew into racking heaves. A silent emotion grew into racking sobs. He pulled his bloody hands through his hair before using them to cover his face and smother his exasperated sobs. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime to Hermione, he placed his hands back on his knees and gazed up at her.

With a spitting sneer, he asked, "can you forgive me, Madam Malfoy?"

Hermione refused to take the bait with an amused gaze and instead nodded to encourage him to up the ante.

He finally gathered up the courage to speak again. "Do you approve then? Of my renovations? I thought the Madam's rooms needed a small adjustment, like the woman herself."

With a wider smile, she decided she could use a little bit of banter, "says the petulant child that decided to wreak havoc throughout his ancestral home."

Nodding silently, Draco moved his head back and forth, impressed by the woman while deciding if he had the energy for a greater comeback.

Gathering her nerve, she calmly folded her hands in front of her skirts while asking, "tell me, Draco, are you upset about losing her, or more so the man she ended up with?"

Draco snapped his head up with a seething glare. "What did you fucking say?"

Hermione braced herself for a battle but stayed firm. "You have known disappointment before, dear Draco; which aspect of this scenario is the most painful to you? Perhaps if you told me, we could work together to decimate them."

A look of shock and wonder emerged on Draco as Hermione had never seen before. His mouth grew slack as he stared at her bewildered. "You would stand with me after the Christmas ball? After today?"

With a smirk, she replied, "Oh dearest husband, I won't do a thing with you while you are sad and pathetic, but if you are willing to work with me, I am sure we could accomplish whatever we decide."

Laughing, he nodded. "Fair," he said. He reached out a hand to Hermione, beckoning for her to come closer. Hoping for a resolution, she walked to him.

He took her hand once she reached him and held them in his own. He Firmly kissed her knuckles, followed by her fingers, before opening them to expose her palm and kissing that as well.

"I will aim to be worthy of you, Madam," he said only half sarcastically.

Stroking his face with her other hand, she removed some debris from beside his eyebrow and smoothed back his hair to take better stock of his damages. Noting that he would live, she softened her eyes under his gaze.

Surely this was the reason he didn't see the slap coming. Gasping from the shock as much as the pain, Draco dropped her hand to cover his face preventively.

Happy with the result of her actions, she gave him a moment to recover before kneeling in front of him to keep a level eye on him. " I am so glad to hear that, my dear husband, as there is so much work to do."

Having recovered himself, Draco laughed, rubbing his cheek, " Is there, dear wife?"

Beaming, Hermione replied, offering him a hand to help him up. "Certainly, Mr. Malfoy, we must hold a dinner to celebrate their new union." She held a finger to his lips to stop him from hissing his annoyance at the idea before continuing. " We will throw them a lavish party, with food and wine. You will shake your Godfather's hand, and I will spoil Amelia with my attention and affection. She is with child, and she will be looking for refuge."

Slowly, the Slytherin met her gaze, firming his resolve, "you think she will draw comfort from you?"

Taking a deep breath, Hermione replied levelly, "of course she will. We have both been placed aside for the same woman."

Dipping his head, Hermione lifted his chin. "I offered you great sympathy Draco Malfoy; I committed to support you and your mystery woman, and I kept that commitment. In return, you humiliated me in front of our entire network and ruined my books and gifts from our family."

Nodding in acquiescence, he gestured for her to continue." You will appear a man reborn in love, and we will celebrate their union with extravagance. Pansy will be forlorn, you owe me this at least"

Draco's eyes lit up, "True, and Severus will go home with a conflicted woman."

Hermione nodded, "Whatever the reason for this situation, Draco, it was not her choice alone. She will go home put out."

Draco interjected, "Severus will grow tired of her antics despite having to live with her."

Hermione added, "Amelia will feel alone as it is; she will reject her husband's advances out of jealousy.

Draco placed the final piece, "Severus will be alone again."

Hermione thought for a moment, "for a time, yes; then the world will move back to normal. But the Malfoys will not remain humiliated."

Taking her head by the hair, he drew her closer to him until their lips brushed together, eventually dragging her to him in an embrace she had never felt from him before.

In between his affections, she heard something so quiet it could not have even been a whisper, "Thank you, Hermione, I know I don't deserve your love, but I will find a way to return it."