Chapter 45

Dust motes drifted lazily through the afternoon sunlight as Hermione stepped out of the fireplace into the Malfoy mansion's library. Immediately, she found her eyes drawn upward, to the enchanted mural nearly ten feet above her head. Each of the Greek muses stood in a circle, chatting in hushed voices. At the center was Athena, attended by maidens, reading from a book. When Hermione entered, she spun her eyes to the fireplace and gave her a serene smile. Bookcases crawled up the walls, and there were ladders on rails to access the (many) books out of reach. One wall was reserved for the castle's typical floor to ceiling windows of paned glass, that faced an immaculate rose hedge maze.

And true to Malfoy's word, there was an enormous red chaise lounge and an equally oversized matching wing backed chair gathered around the fireplace, facing away from the long table that dominated the rooms center. Surrounded by sturdy simple chairs, the table's marble top was strewn with scrolls and books, and on top, looking much worse for wear, was the marriage law packet.

"You didn't put all of this out so that I would see it, did you?" Hermione turned to Malfoy, who was wandlessly transforming his jacket back.

"Wha-oh. No, Granger, I think you'll find that that packet makes an excellent paperweight for scrolls in drafty libraries," He smirked. "Pro tip."

She approached the table, noting the vague notes he'd taken about the law, and comparisons to a past law, similar, but that had not been passed by the wizengamot in the late 1940s after Grindlewalds defeat.

"You have been working on overturning it," she said, turning to him with a smile.

He looked down for a split second before meeting her eye and shrugging uncomfortably.

"Have you found anything?" Hermione continued undeterred.

He gritted his teeth. "The ministry is... not entirely wrong about the population projections. So many were effected by the war, not only here, but in countries with a lot of the d-his supporters. Durmstrangs class of first years this year was the first time it's been under a hundred pupils since the schools opening."

She nodded. "Hogwarts is staggeringly low. We've had a number of questions on whether we'll keep every dormitory open. There are home schooled children, of course... but not nearly as many as before. When Voldemort first rose to power, the population dropped erratically, and now, as the children of those survivors... we barely survived at all."

He shook his head. "But I still don't know why the push for the maritare charm. It seems like that part of the law could actually be repealed."

Hermione felt her smile fall, and saw him catching it before she could paste on a brave face. "So if another department could draft an amendment or appeal to that aspect, there's a better chance of passing it in the wisengamot."

He paused, looking at her thoughtfully. "Yes. If the wizengamot doesn't drag out the debate. That's another funny thing, it was passed with very little of their usual beating around the bush."

Hermione could feel a lump forming in her throat, and she put a bracing hand on the back of a tall, carved chair. "They must have had a good reason."

"Yes, unfortunately for us they had the minutes of the meeting sealed from public record." He shrugged out of his jacket, a lock of pearly blonde hair falling down over his forehead as he did so. He really was uncommonly handsome. Like a unicorn in a stable of horses, there was no mistaking him for someone else.

Hermione knew this man on sight. She had had a clear image of who he was since she was eleven years old: a cunning, snide, egotistical, and downright nasty person.

But he kept throwing her for a loop. He kept kicking up dirt in the stables and reminding her that he couldn't be boxed in.

"Why did you have your trials records sealed?" She asked.

He froze, his mouth pulling taut and then relaxing. "I was protecting someone. It was my trial, but it wasn't always my story."

"Maybe the ministry is hiding something... but I'll bet anything they think they're protecting the public. Maybe the maritare charm... is supposed to stop something from happening." She left her grip on the chair and took a step towards him.

"So you don't want to repeal the law?" He furrowed his brow.

"Oh, trust me, there's nothing I'd like more than making this whole business disappear. I just mean... if we know that the reasoning behind the law is solid as far as the population demands, than we can't dismiss the mandate for the charm as foolishness. The wizengamot could have passed a law that was a deadline and nothing more." Hermione's heart was racing. "Why this law?"

He looked to the ceiling and then back at her. "Well I can't fight your logic. I need to research the charm more."

It was on the tip of her tongue to connect the department of mysteries, to suggest a prophecy might have convinced the wizengamot. Hermione hesitated, clinging to a thin thread of emotion she didn't want to follow.

Would someone love her if they didn't have to? Or would she forever be the girl mooning after men who insulted her until they were thrown together by circumstance. Ron had disliked her on sight, and she could still remember the agony that had come with hoping he would ask her to the Yule ball but knowing that it was hopeless.

As hopeless as putting her hand on Malfoy's arm and leaning into him. He didn't want her. He wanted a real wife, and children who meant more than keeping the world's Demons at bay. He wanted something whole and pure, not someone anything like Hermione. What she had done so coldly at first, had twisted insidiously into something personal.

And Hermione wasn't good at the personal. She was good at facts, at reading and thinking over the right thing to do.

Her heart ached. She hadn't gotten the right answer. She didn't deserve the right answer.

He must have seen something in her face because he led her over to a large card catalog that dominated the larger part of the wall by the door.

He waved a hand over the drawers, and cards sprang from nearly every drawer, hovering towards his hand in anticipation. He grasped one and handed it to her.

Lycanthropy in Wizard Lithuania, a Case Study of Creature Law. Van Ess, J. D. 1865.

He took her hand and gestured it towards the shelves behind them, and a book bound in soft deep red leather hovered steadily towards them.

"I haven't figured out how to put them back, but the cards used to just point you to the right shelf." He took the book out of the air and set it down on the work table.

"Don't the books know Malfoys would never be so pedestrian?" She quipped, giving the card back to the waiting group of hovering cards.

"I don't think the books were expecting a Malfoy to have quite so much time." He waved his hand again and the hovering cards shuffled themselves quickly back into their drawers. "I can't promise to have any book you might be reading. But most subjects should be within reach."

"Hogwarts is looking to update the defense against the dark arts curriculum. Some people would like to remove it from the curriculum, but…" She crossed her arms.

He scratched his head and ran a hand through it, his eyes darting to the shelves darkly. "Defense… might not be as easy to find as dark arts. Might want to go for something else."

Hermione glanced around, at once wary and, despite herself, intrigued.

"I might have got rid of them-" He began in a hurry. "I wasn't trying to… I mean I don't read them, or anything."

"Can I see…?" She asked.

He quirked an eyebrow, but stepped over to her and waved a hand in front of the catalogue. Again, cards sprang from every drawer, and one drawer ended nearly empty.

"Wow." She said softly.

"I don't like the look on your face, Granger. I feel like I'm corrupting the innocent." He shook his head.

"No I'm just amazed by… if we had had this years ago, think of the good we could have done in the war." She stepped closer and held her hand out and cards hovered closer, vying for attention.

"If only I'd known to smuggle out books instead of people," His mouth twisted into a wry smile. "Would have been so much easier."

"Is that what you did? During the war, I mean?" She turned and found him right beside her, the heat from his body calling her closer.

"Wasn't much else to do from a prison." He replied, his face turning dark.

Hermione laid a hand on his arm and the cards shuffled back into their drawers.

"Had I known all you were looking for was my nasty books, Granger, I could have shown you a few more… sensual options." The dark look fluttered away, replaced by a mischievous glint.

"I know it was strange to ask, but the dark arts are so… fascinating. I've never had a chance to see any information on them, for the most part." She laughed and rubbed his forearm.

His eyes flashed towards her hand. "But that's not… why you…?"

She furrowed her brow for a half second before realizing what he meant. "No. No, that's not why I'm here now. You know me, I'm just curious."

His eyes ran to her hand again, and she moved it to his chest. "Malfoy. You know me. I'm not looking for a tumble with a death eater. And luckily, I'm not looking at one."

Malfoy's face softened. "Oh, Granger. No need to dance around the word 'fuck' with me."

And with that, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.