November 20th

Hermione woke up with a start. Fear pulsed through her with every heart beat as she tried to separate the images crowding her mind from reality.

The Department of Mysteries. A trap. They had walked into a trap, and they were running as fast as they could to get out. The shelves were falling around them, hexes and curses flying about, malicious Death Eater masks hunting them. She needed to keep Harry safe. And Ron, and the others. She needed to get out.

But there, stopping her, was a figure, masked, shrouded in black, cold grey eyes glinting maliciously at her. His curse hit her square in the chest, cutting her skin open. There was searing pain, helplessness, fear.

The figure took off its mask. She had been thrown to the floor and was certain she was going to die. Looking down at her was a face marked by cruel triumph and malicious superiority.

But it wasn't Antonin Dolohov.

Lucius.

It was always Lucius.

With shaking hands, Hermione searched for her wand. Groping over the soft satin sheets of her bed, she touched warm skin. Looking down at the person lying next to her, she flinched and drew in a sharp breath.

And then she remembered. Of course Lucius was there! It was as it should. She'd had a bad dream, that was all. She was at home. She was safe. Lucius wouldn't hurt her. Slowly, Hermione's heart beat calmed and she took a deep breath. Rubbing her eyes, she glanced at the clock. 2 am.

After a quick visit to the bathroom, she crept back under the covers. Tucking a pillow between her knees for comfort, she laid down on her side, but she didn't know if she wanted to go back to sleep.

She detested these dreams. It was as if her subconscious was picking out her worst memories and substituted whoever had hurt her with Lucius. She hated it. Partly because of the dreams themselves, but above all because they made her fear him - even if it was just for that first disoriented second after waking up.

She didn't want to flinch when she felt his skin under her fingertips. She didn't want to think of all the hurt she'd been through whenever she saw him. And she did not want to know what her subconscious was trying to tell her.

Letting her eyes travel over Lucius's sleeping form, she was at once warmed and saddened by how peaceful he looked. So calm and relaxed. Beautiful.

She knew he wasn't happy.

Looking back, it was clear that Lucius had been acting a little funny ever since they found out about the baby. He'd been overprotective and jumpy - but she knew he he'd been happy. Then, after the tiger incident, he'd gone half crazy worrying about anything and everything – but it was obvious that he'd wanted to be close to her. But ever since the day his wand had turned on her, he had become more distant. Not happy. Not wanting to be close to her. Just – distant.

It was clear and yet subtle. She had nothing in particular to accuse him of. He still offered his arm when they were out. He still kept watch over her. Still smiled condescendingly when some new pregnancy ailment annoyed her. But she felt as if he didn't do it spontaneously, but by design. As if he was trying to act normal again. As if something was wrong.

Hermione tried closing her eyes, but the headlines from The Daily Prophet flashed before her eyes. GOLDEN GIRL PREGNANT WITH DEATH EATER CHILD - Recent attack attempted infanticide?

Hermione sighed and opened her eyes again. She allowed her gaze to travel from Lucius's face and out the window. She could just make out a few stars twinkling out there.

Perhaps things would get better.

Lucius had plenty of things to do. He could easily fill his time with the Lyra foundation and the works at Malfoy Manor, or overseeing his other businesses and estates, or hounding Potter about the investigation, or looking after Hermione. But while he did do all of those things, he still felt as if he was simply floating on a river, rapidly approaching a thundering waterfall. Things were just happening, without him having any control.

He had intended to make their engagement public, but instead he'd been attacked and the news broadcast without him being able to do anything about it.

He had been determined to keep Hermione safe, but instead someone had used him to attack her– and he hadn't been able to do anything about it.

And now, Harry Potter and his merry band of aurors were out trying to catch the culprit, and he wasn't allowed to do anything about it!

That just wouldn't do! After much thinking, however, Lucius realised that there was one thing he could do. There was one problem that nobody else seemed able to solve. And that was to figure out how it had happened, and how to stop it from happening again.

While Lucius was grateful their baby had protected Hermione just as it had protected him earlier, he couldn't trust it to happen again. He had absolutely no faith that the powers of fate - or whatever it was that decided the course of humans lives - wouldn't step in and rob him of their miracle. So he would fight it. Whether their enemy was a person of flesh and blood or fate itself. He would fight it.

So that morning, he had informed Hermione of his plans to take a trip to Knockturn Alley. She'd wanted to go with him, but he had absolutely refused. Knockturn Alley was no place for her, and she ought to know it! If she'd been exposed to harm in the middle of a crowd in the benign quarters of Diagon Alley, Lucius shuddered to think what could happen in the shadows of the more sinister parts of town. She had glared resentfully at him when she left for work, but his decision was final.

So when Lucius stepped out of the fireplace at Borgin and Burkes, he did so alone. Immediately, he felt his old persona slipping on. His face twisted into a habitual sneer, his chin tilted up to mark his sense of superiority. He'd even brought his walking cane - the one Hermione rolled her eyes at - for good measure. It felt familiar and comfortable, and yet strangely unfamiliar at the same time. He hadn't missed it.

He gave the surprised Mr Borgin a slight bow, but didn't engage in conversation. Outside the shop, he took a right turn and strode down the narrow alley, pointedly ignoring anyone he met on the streets. It took no more than a few minutes for him to reach his destination. Hid away in a remote corner was a little book shop that he knew well. It was a place where one would find all the books one wouldn't find at Flourish and Blotts. Books that one could not even find at the extensive library at Malfoy Manor. A place he suspected Hermione wouldn't know whether to love and hate.

The bell on the door made an ominous clanging sound when he stepped into the shop. The air was dry and heavy with dust, and as far as he could tell, there were no other costumers. The windows were covered with heavy curtains, and the lighting inside was rather poor.

A pale face peered around one of the shelves, looking at once wary and delighted at the sight of him. A tiny woman with a strangely childlike and pale face stepped out. She was dressed in frayed black robes, her hair was a dull brown colour, and she kept sniveling as if she had a cold but no handkerchief.

"Mr Malfoy", she said in a weak, dry voice. "It has been a long time since we had the pleasure of your patronage."

"Ms Gallow."

Ms Gallow sniffled again, and Lucius would have offered her his handkerchief if he didn't know better than to give away any of his personal belongings in a place like this. You never knew who she would sell it to.

"How may I help you?" Ms Gallow almost whispered, licking her lips.

"Information", he said, and placed a pouch full of galleons on the counter before her. "I would trust your discretion."

Something glimmered in her eyes, and she gingerly put a finger into the opening to peek inside. When she nodded, Lucius cast a few charms to make sure they could not be overheard.

After he had explained his errand, Ms Gallow was quiet for several minutes as she stared into empty space. He knew better than to interrupt her, but was glad when she finally blinked, and beckoned him to follow her into the shop. The place was a veritable maze, and Lucius carefully avoided touching any of the books. Draco had once had trouble with a rather aggressive book on magical creatures, but these books could do far worse damage if given the chance.

Suddenly, Ms Gallow stopped and pulled out an ancient looking book. She opened it and turned the pages, apparently looking for a particular passage. Nodding to herself, she read the passage out to Lucius.

"Is it certain?" he asked when she was finished, chills running down his back. "Blood?"

She nodded, and tilted her head as she watched him, as if he puzzled her somehow.

"Nothing else?"

Ms Gallow huffed. "Blood, I tell him, and he asks 'nothing else'?" she muttered as she closed the book and put it back on its place.

Deep in thought, Lucius offered another few galleons to the pale woman, who assured him she would keep looking and let him know if she found anything else of importance. With some relief, he then stepped out onto the shoddy street. He was mulling over the passage that Ms Gallow had read out to him as he made his way towards Diagon Alley. From there, he would go to the Ministry and seek Hermione out. Her workday would soon be over and he might perhaps placate her ire somewhat by sharing what he'd learned. Her weak spot had always been flattering her intellect, and he really did need her help to solve this equation.

Lucius was just passing Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, paying little heed to his surroundings, when he walked straight into a witch who was crossing his path. At first, all he saw of her was an impressively large navy blue hat. Still mantled in his sneering and disdainful persona, he was ready to give her a good telling off, but was interrupted by her breathless voice, which he recognzed all too well:

"Lucius!" she exclaimed. "Why, you look positively terrifying!"

Lucius bit back the insult that was on the tip of his tongue. Of course, of all witches and wizards he might have collided with, it would be Mrs Greengrass. The witch looked up at him with startled eyes from under her hat and for some reason, he found time to observe that the color of her eyes (what was that colour - walnut?) went nicely with the navy blue of the hat.

"And here I thought Miss Granger was supposed to be a good influence on you", she joked half-heartedly.

"Forgive me, I was lost in thoughts", he said, fighting to shed some of the sneer in spite of the temptation she represented to making use of it.

Fortunately for him, Mrs Greengrass nodded her acceptance, and Lucius forced himself to go through the motions of polite small talk. He learned that Draco's newly acquired snarkiness with him didn't apply to his interactions with his possible future mother-in-law. Draco was such a polite and handsome young man, and Astoria was so fortunate in having caught his eye. Lucius listened half-heartedly while he watched her and plotted.

He was tired of waiting for things to happen, and it had occurred to him that Mrs Greengrass was technically still a suspect, since she was one of the few who knew about Hermione and him at the time of the attack. As far as he knew, she didn't have a verified alibi, though Potter had mentioned a visit to the ladies' room. While Potter was sorting Griffith out, who could blame Lucius for trying to glean some information? If he was lucky, they might be able to rule her out.

Having made his decision, Lucius did something he had never thought he would do voluntarily.

"I hope you don't think me too forward, Mrs Greengrass, but I think you once mentioned inviting us over for tea?" Lucius said, smiling as amicably as he was able.

Mrs Greengrass lit up. "Of course!" she exclaimed, putting her hand on his arm in excitement. "I'm hosting a small tea party in a week or two. Nothing fancy. I'd be delighted if you and Miss Granger would join us?"

Lucius pretended he was looking forward to it, and had no scruple in lying and telling her that Hermione would be very pleased, and then took the first opportunity to take his leave of the rather over-excited witch.

Twenty minutes later, Lucius entered the Ministry's Research Department. He hadn't visited Hermione's office before, but given the descriptions she had given him, he could easily identify each person he passed. He recognized Griffith from the ball, of course, but even if they hadn't met in person, the open hostility he exuded would have given him away. Lucius gave him his best icy glare and then made a show of turning his eyes away in open disdain. He knew very well, however, that the young man didn't look away for a second.

Then there was the supervisor, who looked decidedly uncomfortable but managed to nod once. He was probably torn between concern for his employee and fear of insulting their primary means of funding. Lucius returned the gesture, and then turned his attention to a frightened looking young man in the far corner. That must be Billy Turnbull. He looked as if he expected to be crucioed on the spot. Lucius shook his head in contempt. The boy should have thought of that risk before he burned Hermione's research reports - so far the only attempt to actually do anything about the curse.

Only a witch with a remarkably square face and dark hair looked at him with some sort of equanimity. Philadelphia Trolley, he guessed: the one who dared criticize Hermione's handwriting. Ms Trolley glanced up at him, raised her eyebrows a fraction - as if she thought he didn't look too dangerous - and then continued mending her quill.

All in all, there were no surprises. Not until the door to Hermione's office opened and a distraught looking Narcissa stepped out.

"Again, Cissy?" Lucius exclaimed, perhaps a little too loudly.

If Narcissa was surprised or concerned at meeting with him, she didn't show it. Putting on a defiant mask, she continued toward him without answering. When she was close enough for them to speak without being overheard, Lucius addressed her again. "Sowing your seeds of discord?" he said disdainfully.

"I am only making sure Miss Granger knows what she's getting herself into", Narcissa answered calmly. She was much less frightening here, in daylight and surrounded by the mundane, than she had been in the dead of night at the Manor. But Lucius still felt chills rund down his back.

"Hermione already knows everything about me", he said.

But Narcissa narrowed her eyes and stepped closer to him, hissing in a low voice: "Does she, Lucius? Does she know everything?"

An echo of his own words stole through his mind. Lying by omission. He didn't answer.

A few moments later, he entered Hermione's office. He could tell that she was deep in thought from the way she bit her lip and then gave a little start when she noticed him. Then, just a fraction of a second too late, she smiled. Trying to act normal. He didn't like it.

Thank you, Mari (Guest) for your kind words! They mean so much to me!