February 13th

The sun had set hours ago, the little band of musicians had been replaced with an enchanted record player, most of the wedding guests had left, and the few who were left had withdrawn into a newly decorated sitting room in the Manor, along with the happy couple. The magic lanterns floating about in the ceiling, together with a crackling fire in an old tiled stove, gave light and warmth to the room - and only added to the pleasant drowsiness Hermione was beginning to feel.

She had made herself as comfortable as she could on an elegant little sofa, kicked off her shoes and put her feet up. Lucius sat next to her, and his fingers were busy rubbing her swollen ankles, although they now and then wandered dangerously high up under the hem of her white dress. Every time they did so, Lucius smirked at the scowl Hermione gave him and retreated to safer territory, until next time she began to doze off.

Hermione couldn't remember the last time she felt this contented. Perhaps contentment was a strange word to use about one's wedding day, but all things considered, it was exactly what she wished for. The day had been overwhelming enough, and full of indescribable happiness. But now, she just wanted to soak up the peace and quiet. The atmosphere reminded her of Christmas. She felt just as she would at the end of a perfect Christmas Day: when one has eaten all one's favourite dishes, spent time with all of one's favourite people, and has received the most wonderful presents - the kind that one cannot wait to explore but for the moment is happy to just contemplate.

This day had been everything she could have wished for. Even the surprises had been of a pleasant kind!

After she and Lucius had been assaulted with cheers and enchanted confetti, as was tradition, their guests had eagerly lined up to offer their personal congratulations and greet them for the first time as husband and wife. As Lord and Lady Malfoy. Hermione had laughed to herself about it. Not long ago, she'd felt conflicted about accepting such a title. And not two years ago, she would have run screaming to the hills if she had known such would be her fate. But now, she felt proud. The Malfoys were neither perfect nor evil in themselves. They were human beings who had made choices for good and for bad - and so far, she was their equal.

Among the first to congratulate them were, of course, Harry and Ginny. Ginny reached them first, and threw her arms around Hermione. "It seems like yesterday that you had your knickers in a twist about your evil mystery guy", Ginny beamed, "and here you are! I told you you fancied him!"

"I prefer not to think of those days", Harry joked as he took Ginny's place. "I think we'd all like to forget the shock of seeing you actually touching that man..."

"Do shut up, Harold", Lucius reprimanded in a voice of cool disdain.

Hermione could tell by Lucius's smirk that he wasn't truly offended, but what did surprise her was the fact that Harry simply laughed in reply and clasped Lucius's shoulder in open camraderie.

"I'll save it for my speech, then", Harry grinned.

Hermione's eyes widened - what had those two been up to? Ginny simply rolled her eyes, as if to tell her not to ask, and stage whispered: "Your dear husband won Harry over way to easily, in my opinion, but you can count on me to give him hell whenever you need to!"

Chuckling, Harry dragged Ginny away to give room to the next couple of congratulants. Hermione turned around just in time to see Molly Weasley pull Lucius into a bone-crushing hug. Lucius was bent over awkwardly, his hands hovering undecidedly somewhere along her sides. And even though his pale hair contrasted beautifully with her red, his cheeks were almost as flushed as hers.

"Oh Lucius, who would've thought?" Molly sniffled as she released him. Looking up at Lucius's incredulous face, she fluttered her handkerchief and chuckled. "Oh, you're practically family now."

"Lovely", he replied drily after a stunned pause.

Hermione had to cover her mouth in order not to laugh out loud.

"But don't you hurt her!" Molly threatened, pointing her finger at his chest.

"I am certain your daughter will kill me if I do", Lucius muttered, reaching out to grab Hermione's hand.

"And so will I", said another voice.

Hermione raised her eyes to meet the friendly, though still a little uncertain, smile of Arthur Weasley. He'd been waiting patiently behind his wife, and now stepped forward, adjusting his glasses uncomfortably.

"Arthur", Lucius said, his expression giving nothing away.

"Lucius." Arthur extended his hand. "Congratulations."

Hermione waited for the two former arch enemies shake hands, before she threw herself into the open arms of the couple that had welcomed her into their family. After them followed a long line of friends. Ron, with Emma on his arm, made an admirable, though not very eloquent, effort to praise the arrangements. Neville wished them well with all his good humoured friendliness. Philadelphia introduced a short, sandy haired man as her husband, and Luna claimed she's seen some invisible creature make an appearance during the ceremony - which apparently boded well for their marriage. Hermione and Lucius politely thanked her,. Even though neither of them quite believed what she said, they appreciated any idea of luck or prosperity coming their way, given their current circumstances.

When they next had the opportunity to speak, Lucius muttered: "How can everyone be so disgustingly happy for us? It's grating on my nerves."

"Come on, Lucius", she smiled. "I know you're starting to like them. Even the Weasleys."

"I most certainly am not. Life long resentment is a matter of principle", he sniffed.

Hermione had simply smiled and let him grumble. Her feet were getting tired after standing up so long, but there were only a few more people to greet before they could move on to dinner. Among the last of the crowd were Monica and Andrew Granger. Even though she had braced herself, Hermione felt her carefully built facade crumble at the sight of them. She couldn't ignore the fact that they ought to have been first in line.

At least they're here, she reminded herself. She felt Lucius's eyes on her, and knew Harry and Ron were likely watching. She'd had the futile hope of their presence somehow triggering her parents' memories. Either that or the blatant use of magic before their very eyes. But she could detect no signs of it in her mother's expression as she approached them. She seemed happy, however, as she embraced Hermione.

"Thank you for inviting us, Hermione, this is wonderful!" she beamed.

"I wanted you to be here", Hermione answered, struggling to overcome the thickness in her throat.

She turned to her father, and for a moment, she thought she saw something in his eyes. It wasn't recognition, exactly. More like confusion. Andrew said nothing apart from the customary congratulations, but after he'd given her an awkward hug and shook Lucius's hand, he went back to looking as if he was trying to figure something out. Monica soon pulled him along toward the tables Hermione and Draco had arranged a few days prior.

Later in the evening, Hermione had exchanged another few words with her mother when they'd both been on their way from the restrooms. Monica had hesitated, but then pulled Hermione to a stop, and started to talk about Lucius. Her advice not to reunite with Lucius was still fresh in Hermione's memory, and she listened with both curiosity and alarm to what she had to say.

"Don't be angry with me", Monica said in a low voice. "But I did have my doubts about Lucius. He seems to keep his cards close, you know, and I just couldn't read him. He appeared so strict, and always kept an eye on you and I couldn't tell if he was simply concerned for your welfare or if he was trying to control you."

Hermione waited, unsure where this was going. Monica took her hand and squeezed it, continuing: "But today, he let his guard down, and I can see now why you're good together. The way he looks at you, it's just -" Monica paused and laughed a little. "Well, all I can say is that it's just not possible to fake something like that. Your husband may well have his faults, but I'm convinced he'd rather give his life's blood than see you hurt."

"I think you're right", Hermione smiled, relieved.

Monica didn't let go of her hand however, and Hermione shifted her weight between her feet as she wondered if there was anything else her mother wanted to say.

"I wish you were my daughter", were the words that came out.

Hermione froze. "What?" she whispered, staring at the woman before her.

"Since we met, I've felt connected to you, somehow", Mrs Granger said, a little embarrassed. "I realise it is a strange thing to say - What I'm trying to say is -" she stammered and then shook her head. "It's the only way I can put it: I wish you had been my daughter."

Hermione broke into tears, causing Monica to exclaim in concern at having upset her. Hermione waved her worries away with mumblings about being emotional on her wedding day, and then fell into her mother's arms and whispered so quietly that only she could hear: "And I want you to be my mother".

If not complete, Hermione at that moment at least felt loved. And it was quite good enough for her.

Now, hours later, Hermione reached for another piece of chocolate from the small plate that someone had thoughtfully placed by her side, and looked over at her current companions. She chuckled lightly to herself: it really was exactly like Christmas Day! Harry was slumped in an arm chair and seemed to be losing his struggle to stay awake, Draco was stealing cookies from the gift table, and Ginny was close by, picking up one gift box after another. She shook them and listened intently, obviously trying to figure out what they contained.

Actually, this was better than any Christmas Hermione had experienced, because tonight, she'd celebrated with everyone important to her: her parents, her best friends, and her new family. And most astonishing of all: four of the most crucial people for her happiness life had spent hours in the same room without even pretending to hate each other!

The peace and quiet was, however, suddenly interrupted when Ginny exclaimed: "Hey! You've eaten half the tray!"

Hermione blinked and looked over toward the gift table, where Ginny was towering accusingly over Draco, who looked up at her completely unfazed.

"So?" he asked as he finished off the pastry in his hand.

"They're not yours to eat!" Ginny chided, crossing her arms.

Draco simply shrugged and reached for another cookie, but Ginny swatted his hand away and picked up the tray. Ignoring Draco's protests, she rounded the table and brought the tray over to Hermione.

"You should at least let the bride have one", she said over her shoulder.

"Who are they from?" Hermione asked.

"Eloise Greengrass", Draco muttered.

Lucius had only listened half-heartedly to the dispute, wondering to himself whether he should bring Hermione to their room before she fell asleep or to let her doze off first. But upon hearing the name of Greengrass, his eyes snapped to Hermione's. She'd been about to reach for a cookie, but her hand had stopped mid-air. Without saying a word, Lucius reached for his wand and set the cookies on fire, causing Ginevra to drop the tray to the ground.

"Hey, those were delicious!" Draco exclaimed.

"Might be poisoned", Lucius dismissed, put his wand away and determinedly went back to caressing Hermione's ankles. He didn't really think there was anything wrong with the cookies - Eloise Greengrass wasn't that stupid - but somehow it felt right to watch them burn. It wasn't as if the woman would ever know anyway.

"Oh, come on!" Draco whined. "They were a wedding gift. Who'd bloody poison a wedding gift?"

"Language, Draco", Lucius chided.

He thought he heard Hermione mumble something and glanced at her. She was staring into space with a look of great concentration. He knew that look. Something within the vast confines of her mind was calling for her attention. He'd always pictured her mind as a library, and imagined she was now busy leafing through a particularly heavy volume with a title along the lines of Things I have heard somewhere that might sometime be of relevance - or not.

"What was that, my dear?" Lucius asked.

"A wedding gift", she mumbled.

He frowned. Was she thinking about Eloise? Or cookies? Or a present to some friend's wedding? There was no way of knowing. But suddenly, Hermione jumped off the sofa. And by jumped, he of course meant crawled with the elegance and speed of a snail.

"A wedding gift!" she exclaimed loudly and with obvious excitement.

Not only Lucius, but Draco, Harry and Ginevra were looking at her in surprise and anticipation.

"The book!" she said, as if that explained anything.

"What book?" Harry asked, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"The History of the Malfoys!" Hermione answered impatiently, and turned to Lucius. "It was a wedding gift to Septimus Malfoy!"

Lucius nodded slowly. "Yes... and what of it?"

"Who would poison a wedding gift? Who would curse the bloodline of Septminus Malfoy?" Hermione mumbled to herself as her eyes darted back and forth as if following a thread across the room. "A woman scorned!" she decided with emphasis.

Lucius took his wife's hand and forced her to stay still for a moment. "You think the History of the Malfoys was given to Septimus by the same woman who cursed his bloodline? The woman we saw in the memory?"

Hermione nodded eagerly. "The book was given to Septimus Malfoy on occasion of his wedding, his supposed twins were cursed, and the memory of it was hidden underneath the wall that was built the same year. We can't know for certain, but let's assume that these three things were connected: the book, detailing every member of the Malfoy family, the curse and the evidence of one of those sons not being legitimate."

Hermione paused to make sure her companions were following her. "What if the same woman was behind all three things, and with a single purpose: to document the curse and its termination."

"Wouldn't Septimus have known who gave him that book and been suspicious? I mean, if he knew she had reason to resent him?" Draco asked.

"It was too valuable gift to throw away", Lucius mused. "It was, in fact, considered so valuable he had a copy made of it. Once they'd determined it wasn't malicious in itself, he wouldn't have been able to stomach destroying it. But at the same time, he would have to live with the fact that it would always remind him of her."

"Clever witch", Ginevra remarked.

"Very."

"The book!" Hermione urged. "I need to see the book!"

Lucius was only barely able to keep Hermione from going to the Tower herself, and instead sent Draco to collect the book. He, Hermione and Lucius himself were the only ones who could pass through his wards, and he now strode off to the closest fire place connected to the Floo network. While Hermione explained the basics of Lucius's complicated family history to Harry and Ginevra, Lucius's thoughts revolved around the woman they'd seen in the memory. Had she been mistreated by Septimus? Had Septimus, perhaps, promised her marriage and then betrayed her? Did she still care for Septimus in spite of it? Was that the reason her curse had been so lenient, as Hermione had termed it?

Lucius shook his head. There were too many unanswered questions.

"The book was a wedding gift", he said, frowning in concentration, "but the curse was placed on the supposed twins when they were born, which one must assume was many months later or there would have been a scandal. What is to say the two things were connected?"

Hermione had sat down on her hands, apparently scarcely able keep herself in place while she waited for the book.

"You're right, but although the book was labeled a wedding gift, it wasn't necessarily given on the wedding day. There might have been a delay. Or, given the complex magic required to craft such a book, she had likely started on it long before there was anything to avenge. Perhaps it was originally meant as a token of love..." Hermione paused. "Besides, at least one of the boys might have been before the wedding..."

Hermione glanced at him, and Lucius frowned. Was he imagining that look in her eye? It seemed to tell him she was leaving something out, wanting him to reach some sort of conclusion by himself? Stepping around the pile of burnt cookies, Lucius moved around the room, focusing once again on what they knew and what they were guessing: the woman who'd brought her son into Lady Malfoy's birthing chamber had possibly been in love with Septimus. So what if her own son had been conceived before Septimus married the other woman?

Lucius froze. Her own son. And possibly -

"Hermione", Lucius asked slowly, seized by trepidation and excitement. "Are you suggesting that the boy, the impostor, might actually have been -?"

"Septimus's son", she filled in. "What if the twins were brothers, after all? What if the oldest twin was in fact an older brother, though by another mother? He wouldn't be a legitimate son, of course, but the son of Septimus Malfoy nonetheless."

"So you're saying", Ginevra clarified holding her hand up, "that this Septimus person knocked up some witch, and when he married another witch, and the first one then made it seem like her son was the older twin brother of the legitimate son - and then put some sort of curse on the both of them?"

At that moment, Draco returned, carrying the valuable volume in his arms. "Not just any old curse", he filled in. "A curse set to last until a Malfoy heir decided to marry a muggle born witch."

Harry quickly moved a table to the centre of the room, and they all gathered around it as Draco set the heavy book down.

"Do you think -" Harry interjected as Hermione eagerly began to leaf through the pages. "Do you think she was a muggle born?"

Hermione looked up, and Lucius couldn't help smiling at the sparkle in her eyes. She loved this, unravelling mysteries and connecting the hidden dots. He had the sudden - and unsettling - realisation she might just enjoy this as much as what he'd planned for their wedding night - if not more.

"Harry, you're brilliant!" Hermione breathed. "Of course she was! Septimus slighted her in favour of a pureblood wife, so she cursed all their joint descendants to only have a single male child until one of them realised the falsehood of their prejudices!"

Draco snorted. "You're just guessing!" When Hermione glared at him, he raised his hands defensively. "Don't curse me, I'm just saying we shouldn't jump to conclusions without evidence to support it!"

Hermione have him another chilling glare. Draco looked as if he wanted to remind her of what she'd said about waiting for facts not too long ago, but wisely held his tongue. Then Hermione looked back down on the book - and gasped in surprise.

They all leaned closer to see what had caught her attention. She had obviously found the pages on Septimus Malfoy, his life and deeds and marriage to the noble Arabella, the birth of his sons, the improvements he made on the Manor etc. But what astonished them all was the fact that new text was forming on the page before their eyes.

Lucius was standing behind Hermione and leaned over her shoulder in equal measures wonder and fear. Haltingly, Hermione read aloud:

Septimus was in his younger years devoted to a young witch of his acquaintance. She was talented, wealthy, well-connected and later became a famous spell inventor. But because she was of muggle descent, Septimus yielded to his parents' wish for him to marry Arabella Oswald, a witch of impeccable lineage. He abandoned the woman who had pledged her life to him. He never knew she expected his child, but when she gave birth to a son, she gave him up to Arabella to raise as her own, the oldest of the twins Caleb and Cadmus. Caleb fathered a son and continued the Malfoy line, while Cadmus had exclusively female descendants. This was to continue until Lucius Malfoy, son of Abraxas, broke the spell by his true devotion to the muggle born witch Hermione Granger.

The words had inserted themselves seamlessly into the text.

"It must have been the woman we saw", Hermione breathed.

They all watched in absolute silence when a new word - this time scrawled in the margin - instantly appeared: Her name was Sybil.

Lucius cleared his throat: "And the curse has truly been broken? Forever?"

The scrawl disappeared from the page, and Lucius half expected the book to stay silent, but soon he could read: You, Lucius Malfoy, direct descendant of Septimus, fell in love with a muggle born witch and pledged himself unto her with his heart, mind and soul. He did so without any expectation of reward or benefit, and without knowing there was a curse to break. Therefore the curse has been irrevocably broken.

"What of this book, then?" Hermione asked eagerly. "Will it end with Lucius?"

The book will continue on.

"Is there truly is another copy of it?"

Only one enchanted volume was made and gifted to Septimus. Filled with pride, Septimus cherished the book, and had a copy prepared to give to his second son. That version still exists, but it can only copy the original. It has no soul.

The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. A book with a soul? Lucius looked up at Harry, who cluthed the end of the table with whitening knuckles.

"Who are you?" Lucius asked.

Sybil, was the answer.

Aghast, Lucius spoke the word on everyone's minds: "A horcrux?"

No, came the answer. More like a painting - this book is not tied to any life force, though it bears my memory and mind. All that is within its power is to know the dealings of the Malfoy heirs.

Harry audibly breathed a sigh of relief, and - though less audibly - Lucius too relaxed at the explanation. Impossible as it may sound, even to a man brought up in a world filled with magic, they were having a conversation with a woman deceased for two centuries! To his great-something grandmother, in fact.

"Do you know who is targeting us?" Hermione asked then.

It is beyond my knowledge.

Lucius was disappointed, and couldn't help asking: "Is there anything you can tell us that will help?"

The book was silent for so long Lucius was convinced it was no longer willing to speak. But then the answer appeared:

Only blood will cancel a curse based on blood.