Hi everyone, I hope you've all been keeping well!

Thanks for being so patient while I was writing this up. There are some really fun chapters coming our way! Read on and enjoy!

A massive thanks to my beautiful editor as always, Jessari, you're a legend.

Things were going well. At least, as far as Hermione could judge. Their schedules were full at the best of times, but sharing the same workplace provided them with plenty of opportunities.

They ate every meal together. It wasn't much, but Hermione loved it. There was something wonderful about sharing those little moments with him. Him, and three hundred other people. Mealtimes became one of the highlights of her day. Mornings, especially. Hearing the little bits of humour he had been forced to wait a whole eight hours to tell her. Going over the morning paper and laughing, or scowling, at the world. Reading the 'upcoming works' section of the paper, pointing out particular essays and books they were looking forward to.

For now, it was perfect. Unfortunately, when it came to their future, Hermione really had no idea what to expect or of how to get them there.

For all intents and purposes, they had come from two different worlds. If Lucius Malfoy had been a muggle, she would have known how to make him happy. She could have bought him an Xbox for his birthday, gone to football matches with him. She could have looked forward to Valentine's Day flowers and chocolates, or perhaps a weekend away for anniversaries. She had no such background knowledge when it came to Lucius.

Culturally, at times he seemed almost… Victorian. All the things she associated with dating would be alien to him. She couldn't even begin to guess what his expectations might be. All the background knowledge that other people took for granted, she didn't have.

What if witches and wizards had some sort of significant date on their calendars, and she missed it and let him down? What if there were particularly meaningful gifts she should be giving him that she didn't even know about?

One morning, she realised that there was even more to this than she'd considered. It wasn't just magical heritage that divided them; it was class as well. Would he even enjoy the kind of dates she'd like to take him on? Would he be bored? What sort of dinner was she supposed to take Lucius Malfoy on that could possibly meet his standards?

Hermione was aware of the possibility that she might be overthinking this. Even so, the idea of making Lucius unhappy by being a bad girlfriend, even if only by mistake, was so distressing that she didn't really care.

She couldn't ruin this chance with him. What they had was really precious to her. The last thing she wanted was to squander this through an ignorant mistake or misunderstanding.

It finally reached the point where Hermione was worrying so much that she couldn't focus on her schoolwork. It was her day off and she only had a few more essays to mark, but she just couldn't do it. Her mind kept coming back squarely to the issue of her and Lucius dating, and how on earth she was supposed to stop everything from falling apart.

She put her quill away, made a cup of tea, and really thought about it. Just on time, Crookshanks bounded into her lap and began to purr. All the conditions for a really good brainstorming session had been met.

At that moment, Hermione realised that she had no idea if purebloods went on dates at all. How long would they normally date for, before proposing? Did they just get married straight away? She honestly had no idea. She hadn't known many traditional purebloods in her time, and those she had hadn't said much about romance.

She could always ask Tiberius, she supposed. He was a pureblood and an aristocrat. But that would invite a thousand questions she absolutely did not want to answer. And for all his eccentricities, the Ravenclaw was dangerously intelligent. He was also, bless him, a shameless gossip. As much as she knew Tiberius adored both of them and would never deliberately do them any harm, she knew that such a secret would be very, very difficult for him to keep.

In the end, Hermione did what she always did. She went in search of a book.

Hermione knew the contents of Hogwarts library back to front, and therefore knew that they had nothing on pureblood romance traditions. She supposed she should have seen that coming. It wasn't really the sort of thing a student needed to read about.

Instead, she went to Flourish & Blotts.

Annoyingly, it was filled with people. It was a beautiful sunny day, and while it was cold, the wind was mild. The bookshop was packed with students who had finally decided they couldn't get away with sharing one another's books anymore, parents in need of a treat, and her, desperately trying not to be noticed with one of the most recognisable faces in all of England, hanging around the historical section, which consisted of only a single bookcase.

It was, naturally, the least busy part of the store.

A young wizard in a suit that didn't fit him very well took pity on her. "May I help you, Miss?"

Bless him. She wasn't exactly a Miss anymore. But at that moment, she didn't care. The young man had neatly interposed himself between her and most of the crowd. As far as she was concerned, he could call her whatever he liked.

In a low voice, Hermione replied, "Um… yes. I'm looking for something for my research."

His eyes widened and he became somehow even more earnest. "Right. Obviously. Well, the charms section is over there, we have a really good new book on experimental twin-core wand enhancements-"

"That sounds really good, actually, see if you can put one aside for me, thanks- but that's not what I'm looking for today. I was wondering if you have any books on pureblood traditions? Specifically, romance traditions?"

The shopkeeper gave a confused frown and repeated, "Romance traditions?"

"Yes." Hermione said. "That's right."

"Um." If possible, the young man somehow looked even more awkward than she felt. "Well, if that's the sort of thing you're looking for, you can't really go past The Estate of Lady Fawley. Sort of a classic. And if you want something a little more recent, there's The Ardent Passions of a Pureblood Lady."

That sounded like the exact sort of thing she did not want to read. "I'm not looking for anything too graphic. Just something to help me understand pureblood courtship. If you could get a few books together you think might be suitable, and that one on wand cores you were talking about earlier and send them to me, that would be wonderful."

The young man seemed to be re-evaluating his opinions on the world. "Okay. Where shall I send it?"

Where else? "The Hogwarts Owlery, please."

She might have traumatised him for life, but the young wizard had done his job. Less than an hour after she returned to her office, she heard a little tap at the window and let her owl in. Atlas bore his burden with stubborn pride; the eagle owl never gave up. Seven books, including the Charms textbook. Thankfully, The Ardent Passions of a Pureblood Lady was not among them.

Hermione devoured them all over the course of the next few days. They were no more than a few hundred pages each. She had to admit that some of them were very good. The Witch and the Vampire was probably her favourite. She'd had a hard time putting that one down.

Whether or not any of it in any way represented how a modern pureblood would actually behave was another matter altogether. Intrigues, scoundrels, liberally sprinkled with a few steamy chapters. That was to be expected from romance novels of any kind. There were coded messages in the forms of bouquets. The wizards would throw themselves down on their knees to recite poetry while the witches gave lengthy critiques.

Those made a sort of sense to her. Flowers as an expression of love… both of their cultures had that in common. Poetry, that universal nurturer of romance, that made sense too.

But then there were the riddle-duels. The hopelessly convoluted system of bowing and curtseying that indicated different levels of attachment. Two of the books had ended, incomprehensibly, in long, drawn out marriage contracts. Word for word, in exhaustive detail. Hermione could only shake her head. Surely purebloods didn't really do this sort of thing? It had to be an exaggeration, or perhaps a trend of the times the books were set in. At least, she certainly hoped so.

All things considered, the books had been a complete waste of time. She still had no idea how she was meant to cultivate the sort of relationship she wanted with Lucius.

Hermione sighed. It wasn't a completely unhappy sound.

She'd ended up with more questions than she'd started with. But at least she had good books to read.

A knock sounded at the door.

"Come in." Hermione called out without looking up.

Lucius Malfoy let himself into her office, and she immediately wished that she had simply pretended she wasn't in. Or, at least, that she'd tidied up beforehand.

Sure enough, Lucius' grey eyes fell on her desk. Right where her copy of The Witch and the Vampire was sitting.

Hermione's heart stopped.

Hermione told herself not to panic. He had no idea. There was absolutely no reason to assume that he would know what it was. The wizarding world had thousands upon thousands of books in circulation. She just had to remain calm. Pretend that nothing out of the ordinary was going on.

In a very level voice, Lucius said, "I can come back some other time."

Oh god.

Oh god.

She stammered, "No, I'm not busy."

He knew. He absolutely knew. Lucius had not taken his eyes off the book. The damn thing was screaming to be noticed. Hermione was trying very hard to remind herself that reading adult books was nothing to be ashamed of. What she read in her personal time was no-one's concern but her own.

Easier said than done.

"It is unimportant. I will see you-"

Wanting to die, she asked, "No, honestly, what was the matter?"

"It is Miss Pryor." Hermione knew her. A Gryffindor. She was a smart girl but she had a huge chip on her shoulder. "She is not handing in her essays. If I give her any more detentions her grades will suffer, but she won't listen to me. I was thinking perhaps a word from her Head of House might do the trick."

"Right. I'll do that. Was that everything?"

"Yes, thank you."

Lucius turned to go, and Hermione sighed. "Lucius," she said, biting the bullet. "I really like you. I want this to work. I just don't have a lot of experience."

"Experience…?" He let it hang there, but he was looking very awkward, all of a sudden. About as awkward as she felt. Somehow, that gave her a little bit of courage.

"With dating." She offered. "I only ever dated Ron. I've never dated…"

An aristocrat. An older man. A Pureblood.

"So you thought you'd research it." He said, filling in the blanks. "And study how best to be in a relationship with me."

Put like that, it did sound a bit silly. "Um… yes."

"I see." To his credit, he did not say anything further. Instead, he pulled up a chair and sat down opposite her. She felt the distance between them close and suddenly felt very silly.

"What do you think we should do?" She asked.

"Me? I don't have the slightest idea. I think we'd be better off making our own way, Hermione. Our situation is something of an unusual one. Perhaps we should simply do what comes naturally to us. After all, it's gotten us this far."

"You aren't worried at all?" Hermione frowned.

"I am sure we will stumble here and there, as has every witch and wizard before us. Particularly while we are only beginning." He reached across the table and she took his hand without thinking. "All we must do is our best. If one of us ever needs something from the other, we could always simply ask."

He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, and she drew strength from it. Lucius was right. They'd been lucky. They cared about one another, and knew the other cared back. A lot of people would envy them purely for that, let alone everything else.

"That sounds like a really good idea. But we have to keep things fair." A marvelous idea struck her. "Why don't we make a schedule?"

Lucius cocked an eyebrow. "A schedule?"

Hermione was totally caught up in the excitement, and didn't hear the skepticism in his voice. "For dates. That way neither of us gets left out, and we can explore one another's cultures."

"I suppose." Lucius said slowly. "If that would make you feel comfortable?"

"I think it would. Thank you. Now, while we're on the subject, what sort of thing do you like to do on dates?"

"That is a very interesting question. I have done my own research into muggle courtship, though not as, ah, thoroughly as you have. I don't think I have been on what you would consider a date for a very long time. I enjoy flying, horseback riding, dancing…"

Hermione hated two out of three of those things. It didn't matter. They already knew they had plenty in common. She was sure they could find plenty of things they would both enjoy.

"Lucius," She said. "I hope- I don't want to be rude, but is there any chance we could- until we're sure…"

She hated even asking. It felt like such a low, cowardly thing to do. More than anything, it felt immensely disrespectful and unkind to Lucius, who had only been good to her. She shouldn't be keeping him a secret at all.

But life was complicated, and she couldn't bear the idea of disappointing her parents. Or worrying them. Lucius was a good man. She knew that, but her parents didn't. She could only imagine how they would react when she told them that she was dating a man their age. They would be well within their rights to be concerned for her. They had no reason to be, but they didn't know that.

"I won't say a word to anyone about our relationship. You have my word." Lucius assured her.

"It's just that I don't know how my parents will react. They're a bit protective."

"We will go at your pace." Lucius said, again.

"Thank you, Lucius." Hermione said, and really meant it.

Lucius was struggling with something of his own. "Hermione," he said, "there is something I should tell you."

He took in a deep breath, and Hermione was very afraid all of a sudden.

Was he having second thoughts? No, he couldn't be. His heart was in this just as much as hers was. He hadn't given her any reason to doubt that.

Something worse, then. Was he… was he not well?

Just when she thought he was going to remain silent, he said, "I am not Lord Malfoy."

"Excuse me?"

Incredibly, he repeated himself. She hadn't misheard.

"What do you mean, you're not Lord Malfoy?" She asked.

"I mean, I'm not Lord Malfoy anymore. In public, I keep the role. But when Draco and Astoria had Scorpius, control of the family passed over to him in all but name."

She didn't say anything, but apparently her completely confused expression told him that she needed more of an explanation than that.

Being Lord Malfoy was a huge part of who Lucius was. He was an aristocrat, and a pureblood one at that. She couldn't imagine why he would ever give that up.

"It's a Malfoy tradition. Draco has had his Heir, Hermione. It's not our way that he should wait until he is an old man to come into his birthright. It is how we have maintained our strength for so many centuries. Smooth, careful transference of power. Draco won't blunder through his first few years, making enemies and squandering opportunities. Instead, any mistakes he makes are my fault. He will not be held accountable for them. This way, when he takes control publicly, he will be accustomed to leadership."

"But…" Hermione tried to put her thousand questions and objections into words. She failed. He seemed to understand.

"It was this way with my own father. When… when he died, I was able to assume control, having already been fully prepared."

Hermione didn't say a word. She was too busy thinking.

"I am sorry." He said. "I have been wanting to tell you for some time, but it is… not something that is talked about with outsiders. If it were to get out, Draco's standing would be ruined. He would be vulnerable."

The look on his face was reminiscent of a dog expecting to be kicked. He was afraid. Of her. Of how she would react to this.

Perhaps he should be. Lucius had kept this from her. He had known that it was wrong, but he'd kept it from her anyway. That was a betrayal of trust. It seemed so stupid that a man who had trusted her with his life felt that he couldn't trust her with information.

But he had told her. They had only been dating for a few weeks, and he had told her. He had given her information that could harm Draco, his child. She couldn't fault him for not telling her straight away. Not really.

Hermione examined all these facts, added them altogether, and came up with her answer.

"So you're sort of… like a figurehead? Like the Queen?"

The tension bled out of the room, and Lucius smiled weakly. "I suppose." He said. "It is why I am here. I would have no time to teach otherwise. I have not had to attend board meetings or speak to advisors, for months now. Draco handles everything, leaving me free for… this." He waved a hand to encompass the room.

It made sense, in a way. She'd never actually thought about it, but if he had to run the Malfoy empire, he probably wouldn't be able to do his job as Potions Professor very well. Business wasn't something Hermione was particularly interested in, but she could imagine how much work it would take.

It also probably gave him the time to pursue a relationship with her. Hermione, in part, probably owed her relationship with Lucius to Draco.

Urgh. That was a strange thought.

Instead of saying all this, Hermione nodded. "You must be really proud of Draco."

It was a peace offering. Lucius knew that, and grasped it with both hands.

"I am." He said. "He does very well."

"That's good." Hermione said, meaning it. Despite her and Draco's differences, it was good that he was doing the Malfoy name credit.

There was something she was curious about, though. Something from the novels she'd been reading that had stuck with her.

"Speaking of tradition… Do Pureblood wizards… do you really read poetry to witches you like?" Hermione asked.

Lucius laughed incredulously. "That particular tradition has not been in fashion since the days of my youth. As a gentleman, it was the standard. A man had to prove that he could do more than fight and make money. He had to prove he had a heart, too."

She'd expected as much. The books really hadn't been a fair reflection of modern day romance. It only made sense. But she still felt a pang of disappointment.

"Oh." She said.

Lucius studied her. He pursed his lips thoughtfully, but he didn't seem disturbed. Instead, he seemed quietly pleased.

"A gentleman can also take a hint, Hermione Granger." Lucius said, and suddenly the room seemed very small. "Would you like me to read poetry to you?"

She tried, and failed, to speak. A knowing smile curved Lucius' lips. He leaned forward, resting his chin on interlaced fingers, not saying a word. The whole of his attention was one her. It felt like a physical weight. It was far from unpleasant, but it was also very embarrassing.

She went very, very red, and tried to call Atlas over as a distraction. When the bird ignored her, she tried to make them up a pot of tea. She forgot where everything was, got even more flustered, and in the end Lucius had to make it for her.

Only he could pour two cups of tea, add milk and stir without breaking eye contact.

Pointedly, he asked, "Would you prefer I recited a particular favourite of yours? Or shall I compose one in your honour?"

He was smiling now. A small, secret smile that she saw on him very rarely.

It was really the last straw, and Hermione gave up entirely. She hid her face behind her tea-cup.

"Do tell me when you have made up your mind." She heard Lucius saying. Though she could not see his face, she knew he was grinning. "I will be quite rusty, and poetry reading is quite an art."

Finally, the invitation they had all been waiting for arrived.

Hermione and a few of Neville's closest friends were invited to see the newest addition to the Longbottom family. Hermione knew that it was an honour to be asked; the wizarding world made a big deal of new mothers in particular. Only particularly close family and friends would be allowed anywhere near a young family.

Tiberius, ever considerate of Grubbly-Plank, was using one of his highly illegal Portkeys to transport both himself and Wilhemina directly to Hogsmeade. Lucius and Hermione were walking. It was a beautiful day, cold but sunny, and they were enjoying the chance to be alone together.

The walk to Hogsmeade was uneventful. Hermione hardly said a word and just soaked in the luxurious feeling of being alone with him. Once they reached the village, she headed to a florist to get something for Hannah with Lucius in tow.

With the help of the shop assistant, Hermione picked out a bundle of brightly colored sunflowers, daisies and tulips. She had no idea what Hannah liked, so she tried to get something that radiated joy.

Lucius seemed a little confused by this; flower giving wasn't wizarding tradition under these circumstances. Hermione explained that Hannah would love it, being raised by a muggle mother.

Hermione looked over the bouquet with a smile as they set off for their friend's house. It was a small thing, but it was far from the only thing the Heads had planned for the young couple.

Hannah and Neville had made their home in an old, run-down farmhouse that Hannah was always having to fix up with her charmwork.

It was the only farmhouse in Hogsmeade and somewhat off the beaten track, being about half an hour's walk from the main village itself. The main thing that had drawn the young Longbottom's to it, aside from its rustic charm and many bedrooms, was the nice plot of land it was on. A few hectares had been more than enough motivation to overlook a leaking roof, bad plumbing and a sooty old kitchen, apparently.

Lucius opened the old gate for her. Hermione stepped into the main garden with real wonder. Apparently Neville had been using his paternity leave to turn his home into a paradise.

The garden was as meticulously planned as his greenhouses. It was far from ordinary, though, even by the standards of a wizarding family garden, in that magical and non magical plants were often side by side. Lavender, foxgloves, hydrangeas, and a dozen other beautiful varieties grew around a great wiggentree. A curving cobbled path led to the main house.

The farmhouse itself was still the ramshackle old building that Hermione remembered. Brown stone and single story with a thatched roof. To one side was the barn, which Hermione knew Hannah used for her art, and Neville used to grow his countless varieties of mushrooms.

The sight of it made her smile. It looked so… homely.

She'd made a lot of good memories in this house. Playdates with Lana and Amelia. Exploding Snap and Twister nights with Harry, Ron and all the rest.

The weekend Hannah found out she was pregnant with Lana, Hannah had bribed the three of them to come over and help her turn the dilapidated farmhouse into something appropriate to raise a child in. For two weeks, they'd had home cooked meals, copious amounts of alcohol, and had laughed themselves half to death every day.

They reached the doorstep. A trellis of crystal roses framed the door. That was new. Their petals dripped with condensation. A gift from Neville to Hannah, perhaps, or just his own taste? She would have to ask him.

Lucius knocked as quietly as possible, and Hermione worried that no-one would hear them. But a moment later, the door swung open.

Neville stood in the doorway and Hannah stood beside him. She looked much more solemn than Hermione had ever seen her. The young witch had her flaxen hair worked into a thick braid that fell to her waist.

Neville, on the other hand, was grinning fit to burst. "Come in, you two."

Lucius and Hermione didn't move a muscle. Lucius had coached her on this on the way there.

"Our family welcomes you." Hannah said.

The conditions were met; both parents had invited them in. They stepped into the threshold.

Lucius gave the young couple a smile. "Thank you. We are honoured."

Something about the way he said that seemed to imply that the two of them were a unit, but luckily neither of the Longbottoms noticed. Hannah had launched into scolding Neville, who was rubbing his head sheepishly.

"Neville, you idiot, you got it wrong. Your grandma's going to be furious."

"I won't tell her if you won't. Anyway, who cares about all that old stuff? They're here to see Michael!" Neville winced. "Oh-! Sorry, Lucius."

"It's quite alright, Neville." Lucius said. "And you are right; we are here to see Michael, after all."

Hannah relaxed, and Hermione realised why she had been nervous. Hannah was a halfblood. She'd wanted to do this right, but she would have been worried about Lucius, a traditional Pureblood. She obviously didn't know him very well.

Neville and Hannah led them to the sitting room where everyone would be waiting. It was just as charming as she remembered; with beamed ceilings, sash windows and a double fireplace. They'd all been there before, so there was no need for a tour as such, though Hannah promised to show them the nursery later.

Grubbly-Plank and Tiberius were already there, but it looked as though they hadn't been there for long. Their cups of tea were still steaming and Grubbly-Plank hadn't sat down yet.

In the middle of the room stood Lana. Neville's daughter looked even more serious than usual. She toddled towards them, holding a little baby in her arms.

"Our baby boy." Hannah said in a voice overflowing with pride. "Michael."

The young girl lifted him up, straining under even this negligible weight.

Lana said, "This is my brother. He's only little. Don't drop him!"

The Hogwarts Head of Houses all looked at one another. There was a hushed, though quite vicious, fight as to who would get to hold the child first. Hermione cheated, and so she won.

With great care, Hermione took Michael from his sister. He fit into her arms perfectly. She cradled him, looking down at his sweet face.

The little boy was only six weeks or so old. Michael had his father's round face, and his mothers flaxen hair. His eyes were blue now, though that might change with time. He looked up at her, filled with thoughts she could never understand.

She cooed to him, and he smiled a gummy smile.

The smile gave her peace. A contentment that spread through the whole body. This could be her, one day. A family. A baby. Boy, girl, it didn't matter. What she wanted was a family of her own. Someone to nurture, and love.

"He's amazing." Hermione declared. "I love him."

Hannah and Neville smiled, and with great reluctance, Hermione passed the child to someone else.

Hermione noticed that Hannah was looking at the flowers with nervous hope in her eyes. She'd passed them over to Lucius unthinkingly when she'd taken Michael.

"Are those…?"

Hermione gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Hannah, I got distracted. They're for you. Congratulations!"

"Oh, thanks so much, Hermione. No-one's given me flowers. They're beautiful." She took the bouquet from Hermione with a wide smile and sunk her face into them and breathed in. Hannah smiled dreamily.

Hermione gave Lucius a triumphant look. He gave her a small smile in acknowledgement.

Score one for me.

After everyone had met the baby, the traditional gift-giving began.

By Longbottom tradition, the witch of the household was in charge of the family. The wizard's responsibility was to take care of the house and property itself.

Interestingly, Lucius told her that this was essentially how the Malfoys did things, though the Longbottoms were a bit more lax in their interpretation of the tradition.

She'd asked him what exactly being in charge of the house meant, if it wasn't the same thing as being in charge of the family. To her, who'd been raised as a muggle, they were essentially the same thing.

"Does that mean he has to do all the chores- No, that wouldn't make sense. You've got House Elves for that. So what does the wizard do, exactly?"

Lucius had looked a little offended by this. "Managing the estates, generally, if the house has any. The household defences are his responsibility, as household maintenance should be. If what you are saying is true, Hannah handles that. It is not unheard of to bend tradition in such a way, where appropriate."

"What about if the decision involves the house and the family? Who gets the final say there?"

He'd twisted his lips in his version of a shrug. "A husband and wife can always come to agreements on such issues, when they arise. In my experience, most problems tend to fall in one category or another."

"But what if they don't?"

"If in doubt, a gentleman yields to a lady."

She'd smiled.

Since they were the second group of people to meet the baby, they had their own gifts that tradition dictated they were to give the young family.

Hermione thought it was a fantastic idea. It seemed far more sensible than everyone showing up all at once and giving the new couple a thousand baby blankets.

It was their job to give Hannah a baby diary and an enchanted baby mobile. The baby diary hadn't been particularly difficult, but the mobile had taken Hermione days. If he was sick, it would give a warning rattle. The little stars and moons changed colours depending on what Michael needed. If he was hungry, they would turn green. If he needed attention, they would turn red.

Hermione was particularly proud of that. Love, it turned out, was a very difficult thing to pin down.

Hannah and Neville were thrilled and hung it up over Michael's crib right away.

Neville's gift was a bit more complicated; a protective barrier around the house. By tradition, it had to be tied to the Longbottom line.

It had to be simple enough that Neville could do it, but still a suitably impressive and useful gift.

This presented the Heads with quite a challenge. Bloodline magic was very old, little understood and dangerous in inexperienced hands. Luckily, they had Lucius. When it came to ancestral magic, his charmwork was the best out of all of them. And with good reason. Where Hogwarts, and most modern magic, relied on general protective charmwork, Malfoy Manor was covered in ancestral magic, blood magic, and everything in between. As Narcissa's husband and as Lord of the Manor, the upkeep of those spells had been Lucius' responsibility.

Because of his experience, she'd let Lucius pick the spell.

Lucius had decided upon a barrier that would filter out negative influences and minor hexes. He explained the whole thing to Hannah and Neville, who were looking a bit nervous. Hermione understood their anxiety. She'd felt much the same way when she'd worked on the barriers around Hogwarts. Her own failure aside, there was a lot that could go wrong with barriers. On paper, they were extremely useful and could be tailored to practically anything a witch or wizard wanted. In reality, they could do more harm than good if not done properly.

She snapped her attention back to Lucius, who was still talking. "The best barriers linked to bloodline take weeks to create and are somewhat… volatile. We won't be using such magic today. Here, take these," Lucius gave Hannah, Neville and Hermione a small round stone each, keeping one for himself. "Instead of using blood, we'll tie the magic to these stones. One for each of us."

It would take time. A barrier covering that much land would be a real challenge. As they worked, Wilhemina and Tiberius stayed in the front garden to take care of the children. They all sat together on a great patchwork quilt. When they left, Lana was teaching Tiberius how to conduct a tea party, using various dolls as props. The Arithmancer listened in attentive silence. Michael was sleeping in Grubbly-Plank's arms. The old witch might as well have been a statue.

Hermione was quietly jealous, but knew that as a charms witch, she was needed for the barrier.

By necessity, they split up to place boundary stones around the property. The Longbottom's bit of land wasn't exactly square, of course, so they chose locations that were as close as possible. Being quite large, they had to communicate by patronus, or by shots of colour fired into the air. Proceed to the next stage. Wait for further instructions. Start from the beginning.

By the time they were finished, they were all tired but proud. Hannah and Neville especially. As they walked, Lucius was telling Neville all about the various protections he could place on the house.

"I've got an idea for the garden." Neville was saying. "My grandmother's house had a Devil's Snare patch that looked like a rosebush. The thing is, I remember falling in it loads of times and it never hurt me. I didn't know the trick for it or anything. Do you think I could do the same for my garden?"

Lucius gave a pleased hum. "I imagine so. I've always liked that kind of magic. I expect I could find a few spells that would do nicely. Not Devil's Snare, of course, it is too widely known these days. We would have to think of something a little more… exotic."

When they came back to the garden, they saw the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had prepared a serving tray with some juice and water. Bless them. It was a cold day, but hard work had a way of making you thirsty.

Neville and Lucius were still chatting about the barrier. She'd rarely seen Lucius so at ease. She stored the information away. Lucius Malfoy loved garden parties.

She couldn't help listening to them. She'd been dwelling something on their way back. Something that seemed very obvious to her, but which no-one else had brought up.

"Couldn't someone just break the stones?" Hermione asked. "I mean, they don't exactly look obvious, but they're still vulnerable."

Hannah frowned, and Hermione immediately felt guilty. They were here to help, not to worry Hannah and Neville.

Lucius rushed to reassure her. "Hermione is right, of course, but not to worry. There are ways to conceal them, even from dowsing magic. If you would like, I would be happy to visit another day and show you how it can be done."

"Thank you, Lucius." Hannah said simply, and Hermione smiled.

An hour or so later, Hermione left everyone else in the kitchen to join Lucius in the living room.

Lucius sat in an overstuffed armchair with Michael on his lap. Hermione pulled over a chair to sit beside them. It said something for his fascination with the child that Lucius didn't think to do it for her.

"He is so sweet." Hermione breathed. Lucius made a 'mm' of agreement and dipped a hand into his robe, bringing out a little vial of transparent liquid.

"A present for you, little man." Lucius said softly, and he upended the contents over one hand. His hand immediately started to shine; starry silver, periwinkle blue, emerald green, and all the colours in between.

Michael's eyes lit up and he squealed, waving his chubby arms and gurgling with joy as Lucius moved his hand in gentle spirals through the air in front of his face. He gave his nose a soft little tweak. Tickled his belly. Poked his chubby cheeks and just played with him.

Hermione laughed, though she tried to keep it down. Babies had that effect; even when they were awake, it was nerve-wracking to think that she might disturb him.

Watching them together was honestly one of the cutest things Hermione had ever seen. Lucius looked so… content. The gentle, sweet smile on his face made her heart want to burst. She could have sat there for hours watching them.

Unfortunately, Hermione wasn't willing to do that. She had come here with two goals in mind. The first was to respect magical tradition and honour Hannah and Neville, which she thought had gone pretty well. The second was to love Michael, and to have Michael love her. Hermione was the favourite person-who-isn't-mum-or-dad of quite a few little children, and she refused to let Lucius steal her spotlight.

In the kitchen, she could hear Tiberius saying, "Did you see the way he tried to catch my monocle? What a clever young man. He'll be a Ravenclaw, mark my words."

Hermione brought out her wand with a flourish. A moment later, she had conjured a dozen butterflies. The largest with wings the size of her hand, the smallest only the size of a thumbnail. She sent them fluttering around Michael in little loops, silvery dust falling from their wings.

Michael chased those butterflies until he'd absolutely exhausted himself. He drifted off on Lucius' lap, little fingers curled up by his shoulders.

Hermione and Lucius shared a delighted glance that somehow lengthened into a stare. His eyes were shining. She felt herself leaning into him, just a little, and he shifted ever so slightly to welcome her… He didn't seem to be breathing. She didn't think she was, either.

"Oh. Oh Merlin."

Hermione and Lucius turned swiftly to see Neville standing in the doorway.

The Gryffindor looked from one of them, to the other. His mouth moved soundlessly as something dawned on his face. Understanding.

"You two-!" He raised a trembling hand to point as the realisation hit him.

"Neville, keep it down." Hermione pleaded.

"The two of you-! What? How long-? Really-? This is…" Neville swayed on his feet all of a sudden, and Hermione was suddenly worried that he might faint.

"Deep breaths, Neville."

The Herbologist obeyed, and after a little while, started to recover from the worst of the shock.

"My best friends are in love!" Neville said. Tears were shining in his eyes. He looked so proud, so absolutely thrilled, that all Hermione could do was soak it in. She hadn't known just how much she needed a friend to approve of her and Lucius' relationship until that moment. Now, it was the most precious thing in the world.

Right up until she realised exactly what Neville had said. She felt the skin of her face prickle with embarrassment.

Love. That was a word that she and Lucius hadn't said to one another, and here Neville was, blurting it out like it was nothing. Very loudly.

She resisted the urge to look at Lucius and hissed, "Neville, please keep it down."

The Herbologist frowned. It didn't suit his innocent, open face. "But I don't understand. Why wouldn't you want everyone to know about it?"

"It might come as a bit of a shock to some of our family and friends." Hermione said, tactfully.

"I suppose so." Neville said, though he obviously didn't seem sure. "Well, if you want, you know, some private time-" and here Neville stopped to give them a very bad wink, "you just let me know, alright? We've got a spare bedroom."

Does he… does Neville think we're teenagers?

"Thank you, Neville." Lucius said in a very solemn voice. "We appreciate that."

Hermione wasn't sure Neville even heard. He was still joystruck by the knowledge of their relationship. He was back to staring at them, beaming.

Well, if nothing else, we know Neville's on our side.

At this point, Wilhelmina let herself into the room.

"Hand him here." Grubbly-Plank said irritably. "Don't keep him all to yourself, Lucius."

Lucius knew a lost battle when he saw one. He relinquished the baby without a word.

The walk back from Neville's was lovely.

The sun was just starting it's journey down to the horizon, but that didn't make it any less beautiful. They gave Hogsmeade a wide berth, which made the walk longer than it should have been. Hermione couldn't have been any happier.

They had plenty to talk about. Lana and Michael, of course. They were safe subjects, as long as they avoided the topic of which one of them the children liked the most. Luckily, Lucius had other things in mind.

"Do you have anything planned for next Saturday?" Lucius asked.

Breathlessly, Hermione said, "Oh, yes. I'm going through my journals. I'm going to see if I can make a finalised version of my telescope, maybe work on my charm-watch. Then I'm going to the library; I want to ask Madam Pince again if she'll let me withdraw a copy of Figglewort's Compendium of the Fantastical and the Worrisome. Honestly. I've tried telling her that her shelves are filled with books I wrote and that she ought to trust me with it, but she just won't budge…"

He said nothing, only smiled tightly. She asked, "Why do you ask?"

"I believe, according to our schedule, the honour of arranging our first date is to be mine. Since next Saturday is spoken for…"

A date? Lucius wanted to go on a date next week?

Babbling, Hermione said, "No, no! It's free. The whole day is free. That would be lovely."

He smiled. "Well, then. We shall have to wait. And you shall have to trust to my apparition; meet me at Hogsmeade at eleven o'clock in the morning, and I shall take you there."

Meet at Hogsmeade, and apparate from there? Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Why not just meet… wherever it is?"

He laughed; a warm, low thing that made his shoulders quake. "Because, Hermione, it's going to be a surprise."

And FINALLY, we've met the Captain of the Ship! Neville Longbottom, my sweet baby. What do you all think? I really hope you enjoyed this chapter as it was a blast to write!

I don't think we'll be able to do weekly updates for a while, I've come up with some fun new chapters (thanks again to the readers who helped) but the one downside is that I've got a lot of writing ahead!

For next chapter, we have their first date! Where do you think Lucius will take her? ;)