Probably an obvious one here, but TW: Feelings (Depression, too)

Shout out to Mimifreed for being my on call culinary expert


"Tell me how you're feeling."

"You want to know how I'm feeling? Lucius please." Neither Lucius nor Narcissa had slept and for once, their usual roles on their choice of drink were reversed. He was nursing a hot cup of tea while she was working on a tall cup of Irish coffee. Upon taking a sip, she thought there wasn't enough of the sweet cream liquor and she added another dash into the drink. "How - how are you?"

"I'm doing quite fine." He was lying. While the curse was brief, it seemed to have triggered muscle memory his body had rid itself of long ago and the spasms had yet to stop. The trembling in his hands came in waves every few minutes, so he was timing when he could drink from his tea and when he could not.

Narcissa knew he wasn't telling the truth, he had always hid his suffering to minimize hers. Her throat tightened, but she only looked away. If this had happened before Andromeda had visited her on Monday, she would have broken down again, but now all she did was readjust her posture in the beige colored chair in Hermione's suite and look into the empty fireplace. "Diggory broke his wand when when he admitted to cru- to cursing Hermione." Crucio and Hermione did not belong in the same sentence, so she didn't dare say it.

Lucius took in Narcissa's profile. Her cheekbones were high and her jawline sharp - but not sharp enough to cross into the line of masculine. Her features screamed nothing but power and he found himself wanting to leave a trail of kisses in an attempt at comforting her. "Yes, we watched him do it after Crewe took Hermione upstairs."

Narcissa brought her gaze back to his before she reached out and took his hand. After picking her feet off the floor, she wandlessly moved her chair to be right beside him. "He'll be harder to track in Muggle London, but it won't be impossible.

Ah, that's where her mind was.

"Are you sure that's the right thing to do?" Lucius wasn't against the idea, he would still to this day burn the world to the ground if Narcissa asked him to do it, but even seeing her act more like herself after the world cup, he was still concerned about her well being.

Narcissa kissed her husband's knuckles before answering the question. "Do you think I should wait to see if I change my mind first?"

The spasms started again and Narcissa gripped his fingers tighter. Lucius thought he could hear the sadistic thoughts flying through her head as she took a deep drink from the coffee. "I think you need to wait. Let the Ministry's attention shift to the Tri-Wizard Tournament at least. Self-Preservation above all else."

She hated to admit it, but Lucius was right. There was a pregnant pause and what she said next came out as a whisper: "I think we should stop trying for another child. I know they're only here two months out of the year, but I would really like to focus on what we already have. Not to mention I-" Narcissa didn't let go of Lucius despite the shaking so she set her cup down on it's saucer to press the back of her fingers against her mouth. Lucius didn't reveal any of the feelings of disappointment that bloomed in his chest. There would be no reason, Narcissa's body was hers and if she felt too stressed out, she wouldn't carry to term anyway. "I can watch the children at the orphanage grow, once it opens in October."

"Of course." Narcissa gave Lucius a smile that showed her the relief she felt every time he respected her wishes. The tremors stopped. "Can I help? With the orphanage?"

Narcissa's smile faltered from the confusion she felt with Lucius' hesitant question. "You already handle all the paperwork and-"

"No." Lucius picked up the hand she was clutching and gently pried her fingers open to kiss the small dip in her palm. "Can I help? Can I go with you and read to the children? Can I help by managing the staff when you can not? We could make it our legacy - Or not if you do not want to. We both know I don't have to work and maybe I should just give up trying to keep corrupted channels of business open open -"

This was why she was irrevocably in love with her husband. "Oh, my love, yes. Of course you can help... But you just sealed the a contract with the Darlings, did you not? Perhaps you should think about it more before you make any major decisions."

He gave her palm another kiss before resting his cheek on it. "I've done more thinking than you know." Now it was Lucius was staring off into the distance. They fell into a silence and Narcissa wriggled her fingers to prompt him to continue.

"You can't just say something like that and then not explain it."

Lucius watched Narcissa pour more liquored creamer into her cup before taking another drink from it. He didn't think there was much coffee in it anymore. "Do you ever think..." He took a deep breath as an image of a bruised Theo flashed through his mind, followed by flashes of a very scared Draco, just before Lucius hit him. Draco trying to hold back tears as he screamed at his son of why he had to be hurt. Draco gasping for air from being hit too hard in his gut. Draco. Draco. Draco. Crying. Bleeding. Hurting. How did I not realize I was so wrong before? How did I not realize I became my father? "We've been raising him all wrong." Narcissa stared at her husband. His turn of phrase was always eloquently put, so to hear him start off with a question and end with a statement was off-putting. "We've been grooming him for a role he will never have to take on. I can't believe it's taken me so long to see it, but we've been so scared that Voldemort would come back into our lives that we were raising him to be prepared," his hand shook, but it was a false alarm and quickly stopped. "For pain. A life of servitude disguised as being the elite." Silence fell upon them again, and this time, Narcissa did not encourage him to continue. Lucius had spoke a truth she had not been wanting to face - Something that happened every so often. She brought the cup to her lips once more, but did not drink. Instead, she tapped her fingernails on the ceramic as she thought.

When she had the confidence to speak again, she spared a glance at Hermione's bedroom door behind her as Lucius finished off his tea. "Do you... Do you think we should see someone? We couldn't see another wizard, they would go to the Ministry."

Lucius threw a glare at the door himself. "No." There was a trace of curtness in his tone. "Perhaps we can take a leaf out of Hermione's book and possibly try a more 'self-help' approach with boo-"

"Do you really think you don't need a professional to help you two?" Lucius and Narcissa both turned around to see Dr. Augsen had just stepped out of Hermione's room. The healer raised an eyebrow seeing Narcissa was now present. "Oh, you're here."

"Yes," Narcissa set the cup down on her saucer and stood. There was no pride in her shoulders now, and if Andromeda hadn't been so infuriated still, she would have seen her sister for what she truly was at that moment: a humble, and scared mother. "It took a while to put Draco to sleep and I couldn't leave him alone until I knew he could rest."

Dr. Augsen blinked twice before turning to Lucius, ignoring that Narcissa had even spoke. "Looking at her vitals, the patient seems to be just fine. She just needs to rest and I would like to be owled when she does so I may evaluate her further."

Lucius frowned. "I've never heard of anyone sleeping so deeply after being hit by the cruaxious curse. In fact, it's usually the opposite despite the toll it takes on the body." As if to punctuate his point, his hands started another round of shakes. He put his hands beneath the table to hide them, but both sisters had already saw them.

Dr. Augsen looked down at her watch. She had no where to be, by the time Lucius' owl Zeus had been able to wake her up, it was four in the morning and it was only now approaching five-fifteen AM. Dr. Augsen had looked at the watch, to make a point that she had no intentions of staying longer than she needed to. "Do you keep a lot of obliviated witches in your company? Or a lot of tortured ones?" She blinked twice before continuing. "When I first told you that she was lucky to not have permanent brain damage from the spell that was cast on her, I meant it. However, this will affect her like an underlying disease. On its own, it will not worsen or lessen, but if she were to come into contact with, say, the wrong curse. It can go very bad, very quickly." Narcissa's hand flew to her mouth as she looked behind the healer at Hermione's door. "It could also go very good, but how often do things turn out the way we want them to?" Dr. Augsen acknowledged Narcissa with a pointed glare, before walking towards the suite's door.

Narcissa knew there was no talking to her sister and instead walked into Hermione's room to check on her. Lucius waited until he was sure Narcissa was not going to come back out before he spoke. "Andromeda?"

"That's not my name."

"Then tell me, Aquila, what is a constellation to an entire galaxy?" The healer stopped and turned around to stare at the back of the chair Lucius sat in. He didn't turn around as he continued. "I always had some respect for you. It was mostly through Narcissa, but it was there."

"You have a way of showing it, Mr. Malfoy."

"I suppose I do, but I did want to tell you something before you go." One of Lucius' hands came into view as he spoke, palm face up. "Thank you so much for taking the time to come out to the manor at such an ungodly hour."

With a hiss from the pain, Andromeda slammed the door of the junior suite, and walked off at a hurried pace. While she hoped it was soon, she thought that when Hermione woke up and she had to return to the manor, it would be too soon.


Peering on the other side of her father, Hermione could see the man had a gun in his hand, pointed at her parents. Hermione patted her side for her wand and for the first time wanted to shout an expletive in anger when she realized it was not on her person. Hermione grabbed the back of her father's coat, shaking out of the fear she felt.

"What is it you're needing, sir? You should put that down before someone gets hurt." Hermione listened closely feeling her adrenaline kick in - at least one part of her did. I'm dreaming. If I focus hard enough, I can prevent it from finishing-

"Your daughter." That was odd - that's never happened before.

When the murderer had spoke, the words sounded garbled, as if he were trying to speak with Listerine in his mouth. When Hermione looked around her dad once more, she thought she could almost make out the features of who was standing in front of them. She blinked and the scene around her changed.

Hermione could tell by the taste in the air alone, she was no longer in Paris, but somewhere else in France. She wildly pulled as the man in the bowler hat half dragged her up the stairs of the building. She looked up at the sign above the doorway, desperate to identify where exactly she was, but as soon as she made out the word 'Hostel', she was hit with a pain in her brow like no other. "Aahhh!"

When it stopped, she opened her eyes again to see she was tied to a radiator now. She felt sluggish and her chest ached with pain. She heard the cadence of two voices arguing and turned her head to see her captor standing in the doorway, trying to keep someone else out.

"Your obsession has gone too far!"

"Da!" Hermione's outburst had her body leaning forward without her wanting to as it took almost all of her strength to speak so loud. Somehow she knew she was drugged. "Da, help." There were two sets of footsteps that came closer to her. The lighter set had one foot that had a habit of scraping a heel against the ground, and she knew it belonged to her kidnapper. The second set was heavier and there no specific distinction in the gait, but she could tell it wasn't her father's.

There was more bickering, she was sure of it, but her brain was not processing what was being said. When she tried to lift her head, she found she was unable to turn her head to see who was talking next to her as the drug was still thick in her veins. The more she continued to fight it, the pain would come back so intense that she had to close her eyes and focus on keeping down the vomit threatening to come up.

"Time's up, Crumpet." Hermione thought the voice sounded both delighted and sad, but the distortion of her senses were too great, leaving her unsure. "You'll be meeting your parents soon."

Hermione felt hope wiggle through her drug-addled mind. "I saved them?"

"From the first curse-" There was a slap and the man stopped.

A deeper voice spoke next, this one sounding familiar, although she wasn't sure why. "I have a better idea, and you will listen to me this time, boy." The floorboards creaked and Hermione could see a pair of shiny black shoes enter her vision. So shiny she could see the man raise his wand, blocking out something lime green - "Obliviate!"

Then there was silence.

Hermione felt more like herself now, but was too scared to open her eyes. She didn't want to be back in the hostel again. She didn't want to open her eyes to face a radiator or those shiny black shoes.

"You're safe here." Her breath hitched in her throat. She opened one eye and turned to where the voice had come from to see her younger self wearing her primary school uniform. Knowing the girl spoke truth, Hermione opened her other eye as she relaxed her tense muscles. They were back at the cemetery again. The weather was sunny and the headstones were still covered in runes and sigils. "I don't like that, you know."

Hermione looked at her younger self, waiting for her to elaborate, but it was clear she wanted Hermione to speak before she continued. "You don't like-"

"I don't like it when you choose not to do better. Isolating yourself for a week?" A pause as her younger self thought. "Well, we, technically. Since I am you and you are me."

Hermione looked down at her Hogwart's skirt, unsure of what to say.

"Look at them! Don't you think you should be paying your respects while you're here?"

Hermione still refused to look at the headstones. "It hurts. Every time we're here and I look at the markings it makes my head hurt." She was whining, she knew she was, but she couldn't stop herself, nor the tears that started to fall.

"What did mum always say about pain?"

Hermione still had the dignity to scoffed. "Mum said a lot about pain. She nearly glorified it."

The younger Hermione sighed, this time not out of anger. "Then listen to me: Maybe, the answers you're looking for is right where the pain is and Maybe, you need to learn how to face the music, so to speak."

Hermione opened her eyes to look back at the young girl who always sat with her chin high and shoulders back. The young girl who had yet to face what France had brought them, yet she seemed to have all the answers anyway. "I don't know what you're on about."

Anger reappeared on the young Hermione's face. "Well, I'm not going to spell it out for you." Her younger self snapped her fingers and the pain that usually came after a nightmare finally appeared, waking her up with the sound of her own screams.

"AAUUHHHHH!" Hermione gripped her head as she screamed from the pain that woke her from her nightmare. Whywhywhywhywhywhy- She grit her teeth, waiting for the pain to subside. Please stop, please stop, please-

By the time the pain was only a throb behind the scar on her brow, another hour had passed. She had hoped her shaking was from her rude awakening and the nightmare she had yet to make sense of, but it was obvious after being awake for so long that the Cruciatus curse was to blame. Hermione's body shook violently like a leaf in the wind when a shiver passed through her as she remembered being under the spell last night. She knew what the three unforgivables were - She had discovered them second year. At the time, they were only words on a paper to her - she was after all looking for what monster was terrorizing the Hogwarts castle, and there were other spells that had been much more cruel - but now, she knew why the curse was illegal. If she was the Ministry, she would have the incantations taboo'd so whomever was casting them would automatically be stopped and brought into the Ministry. Unfortunately, the Ministry made taboos illegal, too.

She slid her legs over the edge of the bed and slowly stood up, testing her ability to hold her weight. Hermione had read that the after affects of having the torturous curse cast on a person could cause some muscle weakness. When she grew confident she wouldn't collapse beneath her weight, she walked to her closest. I want to wear my jumper and joggers today. It's just one weak before I can get to Hogwarts and- When Hermione opened the closest door she was briefly bewildered that all of her muggle clothes were gone before she remembered why:

"I'll look at the clothes before we leave and I'll even pack them so you'll have a selection of clothes to wear at our campsite tomorrow." Narcissa placed the last bobby pin into Hermione's hair before taking a step back to admire her work. "What do you think?"

Hermione threw her head back and sighed. All of my bloody clothes have been burnt to the ground.

Hermione felt tears well up as she sniffled and took out her wand, needing to toy with it as her magic reacted to her building emotions. Stop crying all the damn time! It was just clothes... Clothes, that her parents bought or gifted her. Hermione thought about the periwinkle dress her mother had passed to her, the same one her mother wore to her prom when she was in her youth. Hermione's entire face crinkled as the fight against her tears became even more difficult. All I ever do is breakdown, remember techniques, use said techniques to stave off making a scene, only to break down some more. When is this going to stop? I want this to stop. One tear made its way down her cheek, but that was all Hermione allowed herself to have. Inhaling a shuttering breath through her mouth, she turned to the side of her closet that still had clothes. Narcissa for some reason had decided to leave the jumper Molly had given her so she at least had that, and she paired it with the comfiest pair of dress pants she owned.

Despite her stomach grumbling, every food item Hermione thought of on her way to the kitchens made her feel sick at the thought of it. She settled for a slice of bread before searching for Lucius or Narcissa. Hermione thought it would be best to let them know she was awake - Even though she knew their first reaction would be to owl her therapist.

The only thing was, she couldn't find anyone. Lucius was not in his study, Narcissa was not out on the balcony, and Crewe did not appear once to assist her - Not that she would have let him. Draco was probably in his room, but she really did not want to travel all the way to the other side of the manor to find him, so she decided to explore the West Wing in search of their master bedroom, despite knowing it was frowned upon.

Hermione tried several doors on the second floor, only to discover they were all locked. Her stubbornness did not falter though, and when she descended the stairs, she entered the hallway she knew would have open doors. It was the same hallway she had confronted Lucius about Buckbeak in and the same hallway she had found Fudge in. She didn't know if the corridor had always been this dark, or if it was the first time she noticed how dark it looked due to her lack of distraction. When she didn't find anyone in the room she ended up in the night of the gala, she walked towards the next door, only to see that there was a staircase leading downstairs with a brass sign that read: ANNEX. The second 'library' Draco mentioned. Popping the last bite of bread she had in her mouth, she decided a detour was in order.

Hermione felt curiosity take over as she followed the arrows beneath the capitalized words. Just a quick look... Hermione's stomach leapt from the excitement of doing something she should not and the fear of possibly being caught. A grin appeared on her face as she walked down the dark spiral staircase. She kept both hands on the stone wall and walked slow to make sure she did not skip a step. The temperature dropped a degree or two when she finally made it to the wooden door at the bottom. It had a small window, where she could see light coming though it and she looked behind her at the staircase to make sure she was in fact alone.

Hermione noticed two things when she walked into the Annex, the first was that it was nearly the complete opposite of the library; there were no large open windows since it was underground and instead of large, ornate shelves being spread out amongst the study tables, all shelves down here were pressed against the walls with one table for someone to sit at. The second thing she noticed was Lucius Malfoy sitting in the middle of the room, on the floor surrounded by portraits.

"You're awake." It was obvious he wasn't expecting anyone as he had a look of pure surprise on his face. Hermione didn't think he had slept, his ponytail was only slightly disheveled, but he still wore the clothes he had on last night. "You shouldn't be down here."

There it is: The reaction she had expected, but even then, there was only a shadow of a dark look on his face now. He almost looked too spent to conjure a full glare. What happened last night for him to be put out like this? Even at the Quidditch Cup, he was still the peremptory man I always knew. "I wanted to let Narcissa know I was up." She walked into the room despite what was supposed to be a warning, looking around at everything she could. Hermione clasped her hands together as a tremor ran through her entire body. Bloody Auror. I hope he has a wonderful stay in Azkaban. There also seemed to be heirlooms seated between bookends and she wondered if they faired on the magical side or valuable side. Probably both. "These books are unmarked - Are these all journals?"

"What is that thing doing in here?! Get the hell out!" The voice belonged to Lucius, but when she looked at him, hand over her chest from the shock of his words, she saw that Lucius pointed his wand at a portrait to silence it. How peculiar, I didn't know spells like that worked on portraits.

"Sorry about that. These portraits are the more... hostile ones I rather not have, ah, others interact with."

Hermione turned her eyes to the ground as she neared the first portrait by her feet. To her right was a snarling Abraxas and to her left was a sneering, young Lucius. She decided to join the real Lucius who was sitting in the middle of the circle of the oil paintings. Some of them had already been silenced, she noted as she saw some were yelling at her as she navigated through the sea of frames. Hermione also noticed the ones present were only of Lucius or his parents, all from different ages and places. There were some that even had a youthful Narcissa, but she didn't jeer at Hermione like the others, she would often stand off to the side and act as if her Lucius was not making a scene in their portrait.

It did not click with Lucius what Hermione was doing until she sunk into the empty space beside him. By then, he felt it was too late to usher her out and just sat there, one eyebrow raised. She is a character I will never fully understand.

"All of these portraits have a white border to them. Why is that?" Hermione leaned to the side, her arms crossed over her torso as she looked closely at a painting of Lucius' parents. Abraxas shoved his wife behind him in defense as he held his wand out to Hermione.

"Turpentine." Hermione focused on the white border more closely. She could clearly see the rise and fall of the thread in the textile canvas, almost as if the paint was never there. "It stops them from exiting and ending up in other portraits. You can sit there for hours, stripping the layers upon layers of magic to have a muggle painting, but Turpentine works wonders if you don't care for the actual art."

Hermione sat up then, no longer interested in the unfriendly Malfoy that was no doubt yelling at her. "Is this how you recover after an event then? You ask them for advice?"

Their eyes met and it was the first time that Hermione didn't feel like he was trying to intimidate her or have her do something he wanted her to. For the first time, he looked as if he was wanting to learn about her without having to force information out of her. "I suppose that is one way to put it. I would say I more bounce ideas off of them, they act as a soundboard at times. They're supposed to help me keep sight of what my family considered to be important."

Hermione's eyebrows came together, not liking the sound of that. "You have some of them silenced though."

"Most of them." He corrected. Lucius took a sip from the tea cup next to him - A cup from his favorite set - before he continued. "I find myself disagreeing with their ideas more and more as time goes on."

"Oh." Hermione didn't know what to say to that. A part of her was still waiting to see the vile Lucius she had hated for so long, the side that nearly sent Ginny to her death in the Chamber of Secrets, but with his most recent admission, it was clear that maybe, just maybe, Lucius was no longer that person. She didn't say any of this though, as the jury was bound to be out for a long while, but she did bring up a topic that had bothered her for over a week: "You called me your 'daughter' when you were speaking to Mr. Crouch."

Lucius bristled and Hermione was unsure if it was caused by the title he had used on her or if it was at Crouch's name.

"You what?"

"That mudblood-"

"I don't believe it!"

Silencio after Silencio was cast as Lucius quieted the remaining vocal portraits. Hermione had forgot they technically weren't alone, but while Lucius looked annoyed, he didn't snap at her like he would have a year ago. When he was done and saw that she was staring at him intently, waiting for a reply, he exhaled sharply through his nose. "I did."

Her response was immediate, she didn't even bat an eyelash as she stared at him. "Don't do it again."

Lucius was once again surprised to the point of his eyebrows freely raising to his hairline. "No?"

"I am not your daughter and I don't think you should refer to me as such until you refer to Draco as your 'son'."

Now, he was completely lost. Lucius wondered if loony banter was an example of what Andromeda would consider to be 'very bad.' "I do call Draco-"

"Forgive me for interrupting," Her tone left Lucius no doubt that she did not care if he forgave her or not, "But you refer to him as your son like he's an accessory. You call him an heir as if that is more important than him being your own flesh and blood. How do you think he feels?" Hermione had always felt a little angry about the relationship between Lucius and Draco, but she had felt helpless to do anything about it. Hermione also had the feeling there was no helping the situation if Narcissa condoned it, but now that she was alone with Lucius, she felt more than confident in taking advantage of the fact to at least call him out on the behavior. "And this is before I get to-"

Realization dawned on him. Hermione wasn't barmy as all. "Don't. Say it."

"Physical abuse." Hermione made sure she punctuated every syllable feeling aggravation starting to stir within her.

Lucius picked up the cup and threw it where it crashed into the Annex's only exit and entrance. This only made him even more furious when he realized a second later that his intimidation tactic was at the price of a cup in his favorite tea set. He could repair it with magic, but he found the tea didn't taste the same after doing so. That may have just been his mind playing tricks on him though.

Hermione didn't do anything, but keep her eyes on Lucius, not backing down an inch from her confrontation. The last thing she wanted him to think was that she was frightened. This time when Lucius shook, he wasn't sure if it was from anger or from the cruacious. "So you think you can come in here, and rub it in my face that my son hates me? You are not untouchable, young lady-"

"I didn't say he hates you, but I'd be surprised if he didn't think that you hated him."

For some reason, that caused Lucius' anger to deflate. "What?"

Hermione shook her head at him. "Children have the tendency to see their parents as Gods. From what I have heard and seen, you have been absolutely foul for no reason. I see how different he is when he is around you. Draco is not himself and I wouldn't be surprised if you found out one day that you don't even know your own son."

Lucius' head felt like it was spinning on his shoulders at her words. He knew they rang true, and it was a hard truth to swallow. He always sought the comfort of the portraits when he felt too inflicted to make his own decisions - A secret he tried to keep from others, as he did not want to come across as dependent - But now he posed the same question to her that he had to the portraits. "You agree that I'm too hard on him?"

Hermione huffed indignantly. "You grabbed me by my neck on Christmas, so you could leave him to cry in the Library after you punched a thirteen year old in the gut. You're - how old are you?"

"Forty." He grumbled.

"A forty year old. Punching a thirteen year old. People have died from going too far in 'disciplining' their children, you know." Hermione did air quotes when she said 'disciplining.'

Lucius jumped to the defensive at that. "I would never-"

"Intentionally?" Hermione shrugged a shoulder. "Probably not. Keep it up and I reckon you'll cause enough damage that you'll no longer have a relationship with Draco." She pointed a finger at a large portrait of Lucius and Narcissa that was propped against a shelf because it was so big - It also happened to be the same one that Lucius had over the foyer's mantel until Hermione and Draco had their pillow fight. "He'll silence you just like you've done to every portrait here."

Lucius sat there without speaking and Hermione wondered if she had gone too far, but she reassured herself that if Lucius hadn't turned his wand on her, then she probably hadn't. His gaze had fell on a portrait of him, his father and his mother all posing together, but he wasn't really looking at it. He was ingesting the hard truths of everything Hermione said. In his thought process he realized two thing: The first being that Hermione was horribly right. Lucius hated his father, even as he tried to jump hoops for the dead man till this day. The second was that aside from how he was raised, Lucius struggled with Hermione for so long because she was his a representation of his conscious. A representation of unaddressed trauma he was still not wanting to face. It was easier to hate the masses he murdered if he simply thought of them as things. "I don't know how to fix that." Lucius didn't realize he spoke out loud until she replied.

Hermione recognized that Lucius was not just a business man, but a family man to the core. Presented with facts, he had a tendency to listen, and it was one of the few things she respected about him. Seeing that he was remorseful about his actions made her elated that she chose her confidence in him rather than her doubt of him. "You could... Start by being the father your thirteen year old self always wanted." Hermione wasn't sure if it was a good suggestion or not, but that was all she had left to offer.


"And that was the last thing you remember before you fell unconscious?"

"Yes." Shortly after Lucius and Hermione exited the Annex, he sent for her healer as she expected he would. "I know Draco was by my side, but I don't think I could even stay awake if I wanted to."

Dr. Augsen nodded her understanding. Instead of a Quick-Quill writing for her, she decided to hand write her notes this time. "I see. Are you sure you are only experiencing muscle spasms? No vomiting, muscle weakness, headaches...?" Dr. Augsen tilted her head to the side as she observed Hermione. It was interesting to see how her reaction had differed from the Quidditch Cup to the visit from the Aurors last night.

"No. I had a headache when I first woke, but it's much better now."

"I see. Well, I suppose I should ask your favorite question now." The therapist smiled and Hermione did the same, although hers was much smaller.

Before Hermione answered, she looked away from her therapist, her tone was very matter-of-fact. "I'm... Well, I don't know how I feel. Lucius told me what happened after I passed out, but... Even the parts I was awake for do not seem real to me. It feels like it happened to someone else - No. Like I just read it in a history book."

Ah, that explains it. "You're still in shock then."

Hermione nodded, she guessed as much. After the Quidditch Cup, she recognized she was spending her time in her room dissociating and not once had she experienced that since she woke up. "Yes. So much has happened in a span of a week." Hermione's hands started to tremble once more and immediately she was doing the hand exercise Dr. Augsen had shown her to help reduce the shaking. How peculiar my own body is evidence of what had happened, yet I still have yet to deal with it. Hermione thought then that maybe she should try preparing herself in the best way she could. She learned over the course of the year that her mind was the weather and the open ocean, while she was a surfer stuck in the between the two. It was up to her ability to use her experience and skill to survive when storms may come her way, while juggling the constant threat of drowning. Resources, resources, resources. "I do think I need to have the dreamless draught dose upped. I had a nightmare breakthrough last night."

That's interesting. Dr. Augsen tilted her head to the side. "Has that ever happened before?"

"No, ma'am. It was a first." Dr. Augsen tapped the tip of her quill on her notepad, causing some of the ink in it to sputter on to the page, but she didn't seem to care. Hermione thought it was a very muggle thing of her to do, almost as if she wrote with pens more than quills.

"Do you remember the nightmare at all?"

Hermione's eyebrows came together as she looked at the knee-high table between them. She was hit with the feeling that she was forgetting something awfully important, but no matter how hard she tried, it remained out of arms reach. She could only recall sitting in the graveyard now. "I suppose it has something to do with my parents... I only ever dream of them when I forget the draught."

Dr. Augsen tsked and Hermione looked back up at the healer, never hearing her make the sound before. Dr. Augsen waved a palm at her in apology. "Just thought of something. If you are up to it, I think it would be wise if we held off on changing the dose, at least until you return to Hogwarts on Monday. Dreams are often a window into our subconscious and maybe you can find something that needs to be addressed to stop them. Perhaps keep your journal next to your bedside and write down anything you remember the moment you wake up?"

Hermione didn't like the idea at all. "I don't think-"

Knock. Knock. Knock. The suite door opened and Narcissa's highlighted head popped in the doorway before the rest of her body appeared. "Hullo, I brought lunch!" Narcissa opened the door all the way so show she was levitating a tray full off food behind her.

Before it could be set on the table though, Dr. Augsen was on her feet, already halfway to the door. "That's my cue then-"

"I brought enough for three-"

"No, thank you. I'm afraid I don't really have much of an appetite these days." Dr. Augsen walked past Narcissa without looking in her direction and only turned back to look back at Hermione once she was in the door way. "I'll see you at Hogwarts, Hermione."

Hermione and Narcissa both did not know what to say about the speedy exit. When they looked at each other though, Hermione gave Narcissa a warm smile. She had not seen her all day, and if truth be told, she was worried about her. "How are you?"

"I should be asking you that, Hermione." Narcissa could hear her voice sounded slightly forced, but she quickly pulled up her occulemency walls not to concern the teen. "May we have lunch together?"

"Yes, of course." Hermione sat up and inhaled the scents of the food before her. She was going to miss the food at the manor when she left in two days. Her stomach still told her that none of the food would settle well, but she knew she needed to eat and decided to start off with a combination of peppered water crackers and cheese slices. Hermione pretended to debate if she should add jam to her cracker as she spoke so she didn't have to look at Narcissa.

"Lucius mentioned that you had stopped the Auror."

Narcissa paused for only a fraction of a second before reaching for her own cheese and cracker serving. "Yes." Narcissa had been in such a rage, that she transformed in front of them all before she bashed the young Auror's head into the wall Hermione originally knocked him into, knocking him out. Besser screamed at the sight of Narcissa, but it was nothing rewriting his memories couldn't fix. It turned out Narcissa still had to address the fact that once she was emotionally spent, something that seemed to only be triggered by her children being put in serious danger, she did not care about the consequences of her actions. I'm really not setting a good example this week. "Perhaps... I owe you an apology for allowing you be in a situation like that while in my care." The fairy magic hadn't hurt her when she said the word, but she did feel the heat of it coil around her throat. It was a warning for when she actually said it.

Hermione tried to quickly swallow the cracker so she could stop Narcissa. "Oh, please don't! I appreciate you would want to respect my customs over yours, but don't put yourself in pain for me. None of it was your fault."

Narcissa wanted to crudely laugh at the last statement, but she was more concerned with the wording Hermione had just used. "Pardon me?"

"Because you're half fae." Hermione said this slowly. She felt as if she was admitting to something she wasn't supposed to know, which now that she thought about it, she wasn't. "I noticed the night - When we got back from the fields." Hermione shifted her weight in her chair. Remembering Narcissa crying was something she wished she could forget, especially after seeing Draco's face through it all. Draco... "How is Draco? The last thing I remember is him being by my side when I lost consciousness."

Narcissa froze, as she thought about her son, specifically his reaction to last night. When she turned to look back at Hermione after knocking the Auror unconscious, she turned to see Draco had pulled Hermione's head into his lap as he watched his mother with a look on his face that made her blood run cold. He was frightened. She summoned Crewe to have him move Hermione and Draco into their rooms before healing the Auror and wiping his memories along with Besser's. After giving her statements to Cedric Diggory and whatever young Auror he had also been training at the time, she went upstairs to his room, only to find Draco was actually waiting in Hermione's room with her. It surprisingly took a some coaxing to convince him he needed to rest, but Narcissa waited with him until he fell asleep. "Draco is well. I checked on him while you were in your session with Dr. Augsen, he's rather worried about your well being. After lunch," Hermione had started to stand, forgetting to ask for permission to dismiss herself, "I think he would be delighted to see you."

Hermione sank back into her seat and looked at the tray of food. She hadn't noticed it before, but the yellow potion Narcissa had been brewing for her this week was waiting next to quite a large sandwich. "Of course." This time she didn't hesitate to drink the potion, knowing Narcissa wasn't going to let her leave without Hermione taking care of herself first.


When Draco answered the knocking on his bedroom door, Hermione didn't hesitate to throw her arms around him. "Are you okay?" She inhaled his scent and squeezed, not wanting to let him go. It was odd how after drinking the potion, hunger started a domino effect on her feeling real again. It was like she was waking up for the first time after several hours of being active and having conversations. The more she sat and ate while she conversed with Narcissa, the more the truth of what had happened to her seemed to seep in. After hunger was an anxiousness to see Draco, to have a friend, to feel a comfort in what she thought of as her home. A home in which she had been harmed in. The one place that should have been safe for her.

"I'm not the one who got hit with a curse last night, are-"

"I've had to answer that question almost five times today, please don't make me answer it again."

Draco made a sound between a huff and a laugh, before his arms finally settled around her and he put his cheek on the top of her head. "I wasn't sure if you wanted space again - Oof-" Hermione squeezed tighter.

"We can have space at Hogwarts. I want to laugh again and not think about that feeling ever again."

"Villiage idiot is at your service then." Draco understood where she was coming from and tried to lighten the mood with the joke, but she didn't even try to swat at him. He didn't want to hear her scream like that ever again. He had already promised himself that if any harm came to her a third time, he would do more. Draco hated that he just sat there and watched as she thrashed on the floor. "So, are we're still pretending to hate each other when we get to Hogwarts?" Images of her laughing with Harry and Ron appeared in his head. He responded to Harry's letter in the event that she had not, but Hedwig never came back with so much as a thank you - Not that Draco was expecting some semblance of civility from Harry.

When he lifted his head off of hers, she took it as a sign she needed to let go of him, so she did. "I don't think I can handle any more stress. I just want to feign normality once we get back so I can forget about everything that happened after the gala." Hermione was shaking her head as she teared up. "Why do bad things keep happening to me?" She was starting to shake and this time, it wasn't from the curse.

Draco felt culpable for her suffering and wanted to somehow make it up to her, but if Hermione didn't want to act like she lived at the manor every Summer, he would respect her wishes. "Hey," Draco pulled her in from the door frame and into his room. "It's okay now. You're safe." His voice broke on the last word and he wished he didn't know why. He wished he was as ignorant as he was last Summer about the truth of his parents being on the wrong side of history. He knew these past two weekends were nothing compared to the stories he heard, but it was enough for it to sink in that they were not just stories. And now they want to be nice, of all things. Draco couldn't remember having physical contact with his mother in two consecutive weeks since he was a tot and now she was almost... doting. Reality was pulling the rug from beneath him and all he could do was let it happen.

The waves of the first war weren't just crashing on the shores of the muggleborns and halfbloods he was told to look down on, it was also causing erosion in his life whether he chose to acknowledge it or not. Am I supposed to be just like them and hurt everyone around me. Including Hermione? Suddenly, his breathing became more shallow and he felt like he couldn't breathe.

"Draco are you crying?" Hermione pulled back and reached a hand to touch his cheek that was wet. Not having fairy wings, it made sense to her that he would cry like a normal wizard.

He wiped at his face as he stepped away from her. He couldn't tell her what he was thinking and he felt unworthy of her comfort. She's bad again because of me. His braething became shallow. "I just..." I feel guilty for being in on it. I feel guilty for not helping you. I don't want to be the person Potter and Weasly think I am. That a majority of the Wizarding World thinks I am. "I keep thinking about the peacocks." He did feel bad about the large birds, but he still felt silly trying to use that as a cover, all things considered. "They were tethered to the tent and I didn't save them-" Draco sunk to the floor, his back against the wall with Hermione kneeling beside him.

"We had to run for our lives, we couldn't run back to our tent to see if they were okay." Despite the situation, she felt a weird sense of pride at knowing her friend well enough to know he wouldn't be okay. In a much more quiet voice, she continued, "You're not to blame, you know."

Draco forced himself to look her in the eye. He forced himself to see the trust she had for him and feel bad about it. "I guess I'm the one throwing the pity party now?" Hermione looked down as she snorted. He wasn't in a humorous mood, but if self-deprecating jokes keep her attention off of how he truly felt, he would keep making them.

"I suppose so." When she looked up, he forced a small smile on his face again so she didn't second guess how he really felt. "I have an another idea for an activity we can all spend time doing tonight."

Draco sigh before shaking his head once. "I think it's much too soon. You won't get mother or father to agree to it."

"Maybe I can't, but you might." Draco could see Hermione was already slipping into deep thought about whatever was up her sleeve and Draco decided to reserve his energy to dissuade her after he heard what she had to say so he could disintegrate her argument. "I wonder though, what are your parent's favorite composers?"


Draco soon found out after hearing what Hermione had planned that he not only was unable to stop her from doing what she set her mind to, but he also didn't want to stop her. In fact, he actually wanted to help instead. He did however, convince her to wait until that Sunday, the Sunday before they boarded the Hogwarts express. Hermione was happy about the decision to wait in the end, as Diggory returned to the manor with Dr. Augsen on Saturday to officially collect everyone's statements on what happened at the Quidditch Cup. Their appearances, despite peaceful, brought the tension they spent the week getting rid of.

"Draco, what is it you are wanting to show us?" Narcissa asked as they passed the double doors of the first library.

He looked over his shoulder to make sure her parents were still following him. "It's a surprise." He grinned and quickened his pace as giddiness came over him. He was still hesitant about the new view on parenting Narcissa and Lucius seemed to be adopting, but he was going to treat it as he did most things in life and just go with it. Lucius started to say something harsh, but stopped himself remembering he was attempting to give Hermione's advice a try, and react how he would have wanted Abraxas to.

Hermione turned from the large windows to greet the three of them when she heard the door open. She didn't hold back her smile to hide her two front teeth like she usually did with others. "Hullo." Hermione motioned to the three seats across from her.

"A private concert?" Narcissa cooed as she took the middle chair.

"Yes, I decided I shouldn't be so shy with sharing my talents." Hermione sat in the seat facing them that was in front of the grand piano.

Lucius had a small smile that seemed to be playing on his lips, but he laughed at Hermione's forward statement. "Some would say that too much ego kills your talent."

Hermione pondered his words for a moment. "I can see that if you let it lose sight of your strength and weaknesses. Good thing I'm practical." Narcissa and Lucius laughed, both delighted in witnessing Hermione's snarky side.

"Ready?" Draco sat on the bench of the white grand piano, waiting for her to start.

"Oh, is the third seat not for Draco?" Narcissa held her hands to her chest. When she brought Hermione into their home, it never once crossed her mind that they would actually play together, but words could not be described with how elated she felt that they were now close enough to arrange it on their own - For her and Lucius, no less.

"It was actually for Crewe, but he thought it was improper for him to come as a guest." Hermione had been slightly miffed at that, but she was trying to learn not to dwell on her feelings. She looked back at Draco, nodding for him to start.

Much to Hermione's chagrin, she found that if she wanted to base their performance off of the composers that Lucius and Narcissa were fond of, she had the choice between Antonio Vivaldi or Claude Debussy. While Hermione liked Vivaldi's pieces, they weren't impressive to her anymore. The ones she had learned were the more popular songs and she wanted what she shared with the Malfoys to be special. Debussy was not a composer she was fond of, but she knew the Cello Sonata he wrote and it was actually... Perfect.

She always dreaded listening to Debussy, let alone having to play Debussy. Draco however, learned to play many of his pieces for his mother - including this one despite never accompanying a string musician before - and had a unique interpretation on how powerful the notes should be played. For days they had practiced together until they finally felt they had found a common ground on how they should play the piece.

Hermione closed her eyes when the first note came in. She had just enough time to vividly imagine Draco's pale fingers gliding over the piano keys before she had to bring her bow across her Cello. At first, the sonata allowed for a melodic atmosphere to fill the room. It was quiet sounding compared to the rest of the piece, but it was there and demanded to be heard. Hermione fell into her own space as she played, but unlike all the other times she practiced by herself, she didn't feel like she was in complete solitude. Draco was there with her in that special place this time.

One of the parts Draco found to hit him the hardest was actually in the middle of the prologue of the Sonata. It was as if that peaceful bubble the first two minutes of the piece provided had been burst like a bubble, much like Hermione's appearance in the Malfoy family's lives. It was almost as if panic had gripped the song, trying to twist its notes into a more chaotic feel, but when it released its hold, there was only cautious hesitation before it rebuilt. Draco thought it was beautiful.

The Sérénade that came next was Hermione's favorite part. She plucked the strings as Draco's fingers flitted across the the lower keys. It felt like she was trying to regain control of her life and who she was again. This cycle repeated in the piece in different forms, but the emotion stayed raw every time it came around. She lived with every fiber of her being and playing her cello for Narcissa and Lucius was no different.

Then there was the Finale, and this time, Draco and Hermione seemed to feel as if they were playing it for the first time. They finished with everything they had, their song officially melding as one. Maybe it was due to them having an audience, maybe it was because after a long year and an even longer Summer they finally achieved what neither of them knew they wanted:

An understanding.

The buoyant notes weren't completely cheery, but they were in sync. They worked together and there was once again a peaceful feel to them - Finally a method to the madness had been found. There was no telling if it was the cello that caressed the piano notes or if it was the piano that embraced the cello notes. They were just one. Even when the cello seemed to spiral, the piano was there to ground it, to remind the cello that while it was brash, it shouldn't run off on the first hair brained note it found. Not without the piano at least.

When Hermione stopped playing, she looked back at Draco. He was staring back, slightly out of breath, with a small smile Hermione had come to love. For a moment they were still in that space they shared while playing, and something definitely passed between them: they didn't want anyone else to accompany them ever again. They just weren't sure if they were still thinking about music or not.

"That was brilliant!"

"Quality. Absolute quality."

Both Narcissa and Lucius were clapping and Hermione jumped being brought out of her reverie with Draco. The next thing she knew, Draco was by her side, a hand offered to help her stand so they could bow.

Hermione tried to tell herself the buzzing of her fingers were just an after affect of playing with vigor for the last eleven minutes, but she wasn't so sure as her other hand felt just fine.


Cello Sonata by Claude Debussy: watch?v=SVxz-Uw9ymA


A/N: Hey y'all! Next update might be up on 10/25/20 instead of 10/18/20. My second job is forcing me to come back to work and it is going to cut into my writing time. Hopefully not by much, but in the event, I rather tell you guys now instead of making y'all wait without notice.

Thank you so much for reading. Between here and Ao3 I have over a thousand followers and that is AMAZING. Mind blowing really. I also wanted to let everyone know in case you haven't noticed but I have written a multichapter fic called The Most Dangerous Game. It's pre-written (it's only 5 chapters) and being updated every Saturday. I will warn you that it is a Dark fic AU that is gory. Hope to see you there too!

Also, ARE WE HAPPY THEY ARE GOING BACK TO HOGWARTS OR WHAT?


Lady Serenity Taisho: I will! I update on Sundays every two weeks :) I'm happy you like it though!

jrustia66: I update every two weeks on Sundays :)

Saoirse820: It is here! Thank you so much for your support :D

musicstorm: =A= Thank you! That means so much to me, gah!

Zahra Arya Hghar: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! It makes me so excited every time I drop a hint or a subplot, but I feel like a crazy women ensuring I keep them all together. I actually have a notebook where I basically hand write spark notes so I can keep track, haha.

Alice Helena: I know! I felt bad writing the Charades scene only to have it be ruined. One chapter Hermione will catch a break. One chapter.

Keep leaving reviews like that about my writing and I'm either going to marry you or start getting them tattooed XD

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