It has been far too long. Thank you to those who waited so patiently. As always, thank you to RESimon for betaing. You're a dream.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
Lucius' eyes were unreadable as he looked down at her, only allowing a flicker of disdain to pass through them as he glanced at Ron.
"Excuse us," Ron said gruffly.
Lucius paid him no mind, continuing to bar their path. "Might I ask why the Lady of the Manor has sequestered herself away from the event she is supposed to be hosting?"
Hermione's heart felt lodged in her throat, pulsing in a rapid-fire rhythm as she thought of what lay just behind them. "Does it truly surprise you that I sought solace here instead of hosting an event I had no desire to be a part of?"
Ron scoffed. "You're married to her yet you don't know her at all."
She caught Ron by the arm before he could attempt to shove past Lucius. "Let Ron go," she said.
Lucius glared at her for a long moment before moving just slightly enough to let Ron slide by with a glower of his own.
"Coming, 'Mione?" Ron asked.
Hermione's eyes were locked on Lucius, Ron a mere blur in her peripheral vision. "I'll be out soon," she said, tearing her eyes away from Lucius only long enough to flash Ron her falsest smile.
A moment later, they were alone.
Disgust roiled in her stomach as they stared each other down. She searched his hard grey eyes, wondering when the last time she'd spotted even a hint of vulnerability in them. Had it all been a part of his carefully orchestrated act?
But how could any of it have been real when they'd been forced together by circumstance, victims of a desperate law? Trust was never a part of their agreement, he'd said. No trust, no transparency, no affection—
Pain bloomed low in her belly alongside her burning anger. She kept her features cool and impassive even as the storm brewed within her, gathering what she could of her feeble Occulmency shields as she tried to keep her expression neutral.
Words hadn't been exchanged, yet the stench of his betrayal hung in the air between them, poisoning it and singeing her skin with its heady scent.
"What do you want from me, Lucius?" she kept her tone as neutral as her expression, suppressing the mountain of words she wanted to scream at him.
"I would like you to maintain the appearances your duties as the Lady of this Manor require," he clipped.
"And what does any of it matter to you?" she said.
His eyes flickered beyond her, and her stomach flipped. She could almost feel the thrum of magic that lingered in the air in the corner furthest from them. Dark magic, surrounded by layers of wards. Beyond that, her own hastily erected wards on the bookshelf itself, designed to alert her should Lucius attempt to access it before she could alert Severus.
If he didn't know already.
Lucius' eyes flickered back to hers, her minute change in expression already melted away by the time he looked upon her once again. "And what, may I ask, is of such urgency that you must remain here?"
She ground her teeth together and looked back at him, keeping her expression neutral despite everything in her yearning to rebel. "Let's go," she said.
He proferred his elbow. She looked at it for a moment, heat rising within her at the thought of touching him after what she'd discovered.
She shoved past him instead, feigning annoyance as she hurried ahead of him and toward the sounds of the ballroom. She didn't look back to see if he had followed, but could feel the shadow of his presence just behind her as they went.
As they reached the thinnest edge of the crowd she pulled further ahead, melting in between the partygoers as she searched for Severus. She managed false smiles and nods as she tried to elbow her way through the crowd with grace, giving brief smiles in greeting to those she was only mildly acquainted with and giving a wide berth to those whom she knew well.
Despite her haste, every step felt as though she was moving underwater, each movement her body made weighed down by the pain of her discovery. He'd had it, despite every effort she'd made to convince herself that he didn't. He had it — he'd had it for who knew how long. She didn't doubt it had been there for the entirety of their marriage, festering in its hidden place as he waited for— something.
Why? Why, why, why—
The word throbbed in her head as she tried to explain away the action and its perilous consequences, still desperately trying to grasp at a reason to absolve her husband of the crime he'd committed. He was Lucius Malfoy. He'd always had enemies — more than she could visualize. A loyal follower of his for decades, a man who'd never hesitated to involve himself in nefarious activities to reach his goals—
He'd never once lied to her about who he was, had he?
She'd turned his lies and cool indifference into excuses for the man she'd thought lay beneath. A man who'd learned the pain of choosing the dark, a man who'd chosen the Order at his most desperate hour and had fought behind the scenes, sacrificing all he'd known for a better future for his son—
Or perhaps just for himself. Every time she'd argued with Draco that Lucius wasn't beyond redemption she'd been met with resistance, with a long list of reasons why the man could never — should never — be redeemed because he'd never lied about who he was.
Who would have known him better than his own son?
Because Draco — the man she'd loved and trusted, the man who'd been broken by Lucius, a man she'd made countless excuses for — who she'd tried to convince herself as much as others that there was something in him worth redemption—
He'd shown her who Lucius was, over and over again.
As had Lucius himself.
She looked up at the crowd, the figures that crowded the ballroom melting into a blurred mass of figures wrapped in finery. Everyone except Lucius. He was nearly across the room, yet he shone to her like a beacon, his long platinum hair gleaming in the low light, contrasting sharply against his emerald robes. Lucius Malfoy — her husband. The words felt wrong alongside one another, a mismatched mess trying to resolve itself in the storm that brewed in her mind.
"Lady Malfoy."
Hermione looked up. She'd been leaning against a table, a flute of champagne somehow in her hands despite her not recalling having picked it up in the first place.
Astoria Greengrass stood before her, her lips twisted into their ever-present look of disdain.
"Leave," Hermione said flatly. She wasted no pleasantries on the woman, barely giving her a glance before her eyes found her enigma of a husband once more.
"Ah," Astoria said. "You are as gracious as ever."
Hermione didn't answer.
She thought the woman had left until Astria spoke again, the smug, grating tone in her voice making Hermione's skin crawl. "How is it, I wonder, being married to a man like that?" Astoria said slowly.
Her small smirk grew wider as Hermione looked up at her. "Perhaps you've discovered how he truly is," she said. "Pity, isn't it, how it feels when one has discovered that they've flown too close to the sun?"
Hermione's fist clenched as she opened her mouth to respond, a series of low expletives bubbling to her lips. Before she could speak, another voice cut in from behind her.
"I would watch my next words before you find yourself banished from the measly presence in society that you've managed to carve for yourself," Severus enunciated slowly.
Astoria's mouth snapped shut. Her eyes flashed for a moment before she turned on her heel and disappeared into the crowd.
Severus caught her arm and turned her to him. "What happened?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.
"How did you—?"
"You would not have stood watching me for as long as you did earlier if nothing was amiss. Tell me."
A muscle in Hermine's throat spasmed. "Muffliato," she mumbled before turning back to him. "He has it," she whispered, her throat constricting around the word.
Severus' grip tightened briefly on her shoulders. "It?" The question in his tone fell flat as he read the answer in her expression. She caught a brief flicker of fear pass through his eyes. "Where?"
Hermione swallowed thickly. trying to bury the panic that had started to rise in her chest. "In the library. There's a hidden place, one that only he and his wife have access to—"
Severus' eyes flashed. "Did you touch it?"
Hermione shook her head. "He saw me when I was there," she said. "I don't think he knows but— my ward will warn us if he tries to move it. It might not give us enough time, we need to destroy it—"
"—tonight," Severus said. He turned and scanned the crowd, paying no mind to the partygoers that gave him a wide berth as they passed. "We'll do it once the guests are gone," he said. "There are some things I must prepare beforehand." He turned to leave then paused and looked back at her. "Are you alright?" he asked.
She pressed a hand to where her chest throbbed as the weight of what she'd discovered settled deeper onto her, drowning her. "No," she answered. "But just—" she gestured vaguely at the direction he'd been heading in.
He nodded and left her, and the sounds of the party filtered in once more.
X
Hermione cradled Carina into her chest, rocking her gently as slumber started to take the infant. She looked down at her daughter, running a hand through the infant's downy hair. It had grown longer, staying mostly straight with just a slight curl at the tips. So like her father's—
Hermione shuddered and held Carina closer, looking up at the clock as she tried to keep her panic at bay. The guests had only left minutes ago, but each one that passed felt like an eternity. She'd come to the nursery as a way to calm her thoughts, but it had done little but exacerbate her panic as soon as she'd caught sight of her — their — daughter's cherubic face.
The was a low pop of Apparition, and Knobby appeared before her, his hands already outstretched to take Carina. "Master Snape is requesting a meeting in the library," he said.
Hermione nodded, clutching Carina closer to her body. They would destroy it. They would destroy it before it could come out and destroy her precious daughter's life — before the stain of Lucius' newest crime lingered with them for a took her a long moment to hand Carina to Knobby, and a longer one before she Apparated to the library.
It was as dark and silent as it had been when she'd entered earlier, devoid of any presence. Her ward still hung untouched and intact over the bookcase, and she made quick work of dismantling the layers Lucius had placed. Seeing the red glow of the poison somehow hurt more the second time. The betrayal of it all slammed into her once more, making her heart thud in her chest and blood pound in her ears, nearly drowning out all other sound as she stared at it.
Nearly.
The crack of Apparition behind her sent a wave of relief crashing through her, and she turned quickly, ready for Severus to help her end this once and for all—
She should have known. Known that once things had started to implode, that the pieces she'd been scrambling to keep together would only keep rushing through her fingers like sand, scattering faster than she could gather them.
It was Lucius.
Her heart flew into her throat before descending and settling deep in her stomach. The room felt equally frigid and like an inferno, the air crackling between them as their unspoken words thickened the tense air. She had thought that she knew what Lucius looks like at his most frigid, but what she saw before her had her chest twisting and tightening.
She'd almost forgotten who Lucius Malfoy was.
She had let herself fall into the trap of no longer being able to differentiate between who she wanted him to be who he truly was. Yet now as he stood before her, half–cloaked in darkness, the truth of the man she'd married was laid bare before her, its sickening truth simmering in the silence that stretched between them.
"Why?" It was a single word, yet it burned with the heat of a thousand.
The movement was little more than a ripple, but it sent the small glowing vial flying out of its hiding place toward him.
Until she caught it mid-air. She held it tightly in a trembling hand, her eyes still upon her husband as she watched the cold fury in his eyes deepen.
"WHY?" Her scream echoed in the large room, the choked sound of betrayal in the word reverberating in a cacophony that rained down upon them in the tense silence.
Lucius' voice was low as he spoke, devoid of emotion. "It appears that despite how long I have granted you permission to live here, you have learned little of what you are and are not free to touch."
Hermione let out a choked sound as her heart thudded in her chest. "I'm your wife." Even as it came out of her mouth, the word fell flat, as if it had retained little significance.
The look in his eyes made her wonder if it had ever held any at all.
Some part deep within her knew what he would say before he spoke. "That bears little significance to me."
Her head throbbed as if he'd entered it, extracting her thoughts and throwing them violently in her face. "It should," she said, her voice low and tinged with all the emotion his own lacked.
He stepped forward and she stepped back, watching as the fury etched into his features only blossomed further.
"I've asked myself dozens of times," she said, searching his hardened eyes for answers she knew she wouldn't find, "why would you ever do something like this. Why you would be in possession of a poison so dangerous that immediate confinement in Azkaban would be the answering sentence. Maybe you fear someone else being in hiding, of them using a stray portkey from the war. Perhaps you never learned that there are perfectly legal ways to see your enemies punished. Perhaps you even—" her chest tightened as she forced out the words, "perhaps you even knew."
"Did you know that he was out there?" she asked, feeling her hold on all the excuses she had come up with slackening. "Did you even care that he would come after our daughter?"
Lucius' entire form tensed. "I have never given you reason to doubt my love for her."
"Then why?!"
"I will force your hand if I have to," he said, his voice laced with a darkness that had her gripping the vial harder.
She stood taller, feeling the brush of the wooden bookcase behind her. She was being cornered by her husband, clutching the one thing that could — that was already — shattering their family with each second that passed as she watched unbridled rage darken his features to something unrecognizable.
"What I do and do not keep in my possession has never been your concern," he said, his voice dripping with venom. "It is clear that you have not yet learned your place —"
Somewhere in the distance, she heard a low thudding, moving in time with the way her heart continued to shatter.
"TELL ME WHY!" She screamed, moving to shove the hand that held the vial behind her back. "What do you have to fear that would make the decision to have this in your possession in any way rational—" Her chest heaved with every breath she took, weighed down by the pain of looking into his eyes and seeing the impenetrable nothingness that lay there. "Will you lie and say that it was for some pathetic attempt at protecting us? Like a man like you could ever understand that there are other ways of protecting your family that do not involve illegalities and cold-blooded murder."
The thudding noise grew louder, settling over the silence in the room as her words hung between them, the implications of all that she had said – all that she had suppressed since they had been married—laid bare in irretrievable fragments around them.
There was a ripple in his form then, as if the weight of her suppressed words had settled over him in slow motion, shattering the thin film of all she had tried to build over what made them Hermione Granger and Lucius Malfoy.
The crack of Severus' Apparition sounded like thunder.
Her dark-robed husband appeared at the other end of the room, his expression dark and stormy. "Lucius," he seethed, his voice leaking with disgust and urgency, wrapped in a sickening whole. "Give it to me."
"Severus—" It took only the brief moment that she looked at Severus for Lucius to twist his fingers in a way that had her own and snapping open, leaving the vial to fly into his waiting hand.
The distant thrumming grew to a crescendo, and she wondered if once her heart finished crumbling that the rest of her would, too.
"Lucius!" Her cry echoed in the library, a grating cacophony that assaulted them from all sides.
It was then that she heard it. The distant thrumming that was no longer in her head, drawing closer like the sound of a dozen footsteps storming down the hall.
She wished that she was dreaming it. But she caught the flash of panic across Severus' features as he looked towards the doors, both of their eyes going to where Lucius still held the vial tightly, his eyes wild as he looked toward the door.
It felt as though she was moving underwater. Every step was slow, too slow, as she watched Severus lurch across the room, grabbing her by the hand and saying something low and urgent into her ear. Her eyes saw only Lucius, the manic rage glimmering in his eyes as he watched them. Then she felt only the lurch of Apparition followed by swift rejection as they were hit by the sting of anti-Apparition wards that rattled them and sent them landing only a dozen feet away, right outside the library doors.
Right outside the library doors where a dozen Aurors stormed down the hall, wands brandished as they stormed past her.
Lestrange had talked.
The blast that blew the library doors open rattled her bones, swallowing her cry as they flooded into the room. She looked up and saw Harry, his glasses askew and hair bedraggled as he ran down the hall towards them, blinking in confusion. Several of her other husbands followed behind him, uttering words she could not hear over the pounding of blood in her ears.
They all went silent when the Aurors emerged seconds later, with Lucius in their midst, his hands bound securely behind his back with glimmering magical twine securing his wrists.
Somehow, the silence felt even more depthless as the stone-faced Auror leading him turned and spoke. "Lucius Abraxas Malfoy," the man began, his voice teeming with destruction, "you are hereby under arrest for high crimes against society. You have a right to maintain your silence, as anything you say from this moment forth may harm your defense if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court.…"
The pounding of blood in her ears grew as loud as screams, drowning out the rest of the Auror's words as she watched her world crumble around her.
With only a few cracks of Apparition, they were gone.
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