Lucius Malfoy wrung his hands in agitation. His daughter had asked to see him. Finally. She had been meeting with her mother and Draco for over two months and this was the first time she'd asked for him. He had begun to doubt she ever would.
Narcissa had warned him not to upset the girl, with only weeks left of her pregnancy, she was vulnerable, even without all of the upset of the last few months.
The papers had been discussing the dangers of prophecies, many arguments appearing in print, calling for research into whether there was a way to determine which prophecies were destined to come true. Lucius privately wondered whether all prophecies had the potential but that people were the ones responsible for their fulfilment, twisting situations to suit, as Dumbledore had done.
The aurors had confirmed Dumbledore's involvement in the kidnapping of his daughter, and his reasoning. The man had been tried posthumously and found guilty, his name splashed across the newspapers causing a national outcry.
It wasn't enough. He longed to hurt the man as he had been hurt, as Narcissa and Draco had been hurt. He was grateful that Hermione appeared to be accepting them. Her relationship with Draco was improving daily, and his son was lighter, less haunted than he'd been. He spoke of dinners and days out in the muggle world. Despite everyone now knowing who she was, they had yet to venture out into their world but that seemed to suit his son just fine as he revelled in the anonymity.
Narcissa had almost returned to the woman she was before Cassie's disappearance. She'd regained the light in her eyes that had been lost for too many years. Her face lighting up as she described the time she spent with her daughter, the girl allowing her to help with the nursery and baby shopping, her excitement at becoming a grandmother palpable.
He steeled himself as he walked to the floo. She had asked to see him alone. Part of him wondered if she were going to explain to him that while she wished to have her mother and Draco in her life, she had no urge to see him. He wondered if she'd be that cruel.
She was sitting in an oversized armchair when he arrived, Theo escorting him to the room and promptly leaving them, murmuring to his wife that he'd remain nearby if she needed him.
She watched him warily, multiple expressions flitting across her face before she stood awkwardly, hindered by her pregnancy. His heart hurt as he took in his daughter for the first time in fourteen years. She'd grown into a beautiful woman, still more Black than Malfoy, she was petite, with the wild curls he remembered from her youth. He couldn't have stopped the tears if he'd tried. Before he knew it, he heard a slightly strangled "Daddy!" and his little girl was back in his arms. Exactly where she belonged, the piece that he'd long since accepted would always be painfully missing, slotting back into place as he sobbed into her hair, her arms tight around his waist.
"I'm so sorry, Princess, I'm so sorry." he chanted over and over as he gave in to his emotions for the first time in his life, the shame he felt over his actions warring with the sheer relief that she was here. Whole, healthy and in his arms again.
He refused to let go of her hand as they sat once they were calmer, needing to reassure himself that this was real.
"I owe you so many apologies" he began softly, "And even then the words will never be enough. You have to know though, Hermione, I am so very sorry, for all of it. There are no excuses. I know your mother has spoken to you about what our lives were like but none of it excuses our actions, my actions. I'll understand if you don't want to see me, but I beg you not to cut out Draco or your mother."
She nodded slightly. "Do you know what one of my first memories to come back was?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
He shook his head.
She smiled faintly, "You, picking me up and twirling me around telling me you'd saved me from the evil Dragon because Draco was chasing me. I must have only been about five. I don't remember why Draco was chasing me, only that he was. I had on these ridiculously flouncy green robes which were making it hard to run in and he'd have caught me if you hadn't picked me up."
"You'd hidden his broom." Lucius answered. "And you refused to tell him where it was, I think he'd been badering you to fly and you'd gotten fed up with it."
"So it was." she smiled gently. " I also remembered you waking me up and sneaking me down to the kitchen to steal the elves' chocolate chip cookies in the middle of the night. It was always when they made them, wasn't it? And we used to sneak back to the library so Mother wouldn't find us and scold you."
He smiled at her as he remembered doing just that, "With Draco, it was their shortbread," he replied, "we used to eat them in the kitchen. With you, it was always the chocolate chip. They were your favourite. I couldn't bring myself to continue it with Draco after you were taken. I regret that now, but at the time, it hurt too much."
She nodded. "I'm struggling," she whispered, "to amalgamate the man who told me he was my knight and called me Princess, with the man you showed me as a teenager, who would have seen me dead without a second thought."
He flinched even as he nodded, acknowledging the truth of her words. "I will never be able to apologise enough but I will do whatever it is you need me to do to help, Hermione. Please, Princess, let me help. I've missed you so damn much, I cannot begin to tell you how much."
He knew he was crying again and part of him registered that he should be horrified, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He felt her rest her head on his shoulder and he turned to press a kiss to the crown of her head, soaking in her presence, hoping this wouldnt be the only time he was allowed this grace.
"I'll try," she whispered and he shifted so his arm was around her, pulling her into his side, already dreading the moment when she would force him to let go.
In the end, he sat on her sofa for hours, terrified that if he left she would decide not to let him come back.
"Did you always believe?"
"Yes. Your mother says you remember, so I imagine that you remember your grandfather?"
She shuddered. "Yes, I remember Grandfather"
He pulled her tighter to him, "Then you will remember how vocal he was in his views."
She nodded thoughtfully. "Did you ever consider not following him?"
"The Dark Lord? Yes. The relief I felt when he disappeared was the first inclination. He wasn't sane, Hermione. He had been, in the beginning, he was charismatic and he spoke, not of genocide but of changing the world. When we first joined, many of us believed it was a political movement. Contrary to what I'm sure you believe, I have never enjoyed violence and hurting people."
"Even blood traitors and muggles?"
"Even blood traitors and muggles."
"Then explain the diary and the world cup."
He sighed as he looked down at her. "I have no real excuse for the world cup, it was senseless. The mark had been growing darker, we were all beginning to expect he was coming back. When it was suggested we have a little "fun", I felt I had no choice but to go along with it. If he had heard I refused, there would have been consequences.
As for the diary, I had no idea what it was. I knew how it made me feel and I hated it. I just wanted it out of the house. I wasn't given it exactly, He had given it to your grandfather and so when he died, it came into my possession but your grandfather had never explained its purpose, perhaps he didn't know either. The Dark Lord was gone, no one else knew about it. The Weasley's and the Malfoy's have been feuding for years, I understand you are close to the family but, Arthur especially, sets my teeth on edge. The man was in a job that he barely understood, his knowledge of the muggle world was limited and his inability to behave correctly in the face of muggle inventions that excited him puts us all at risk. Combine that by the fact he never hid that he modifies many muggle items, that he twisted the law in order to do so legally, something I would be questioned over in the aurory had it been me, and I lost my head for a while. I thought that an obviously dark book would be discovered and the Weasley's would be looked at. You have to believe me, Hermione, I would never have done it if I had known what it was. As it is, I regret taking my pettiness out on a child, I just wanted Arthur to hurt as I was hurting. The man had seven children, all of them whole and I…..I had lost one of mine. Seeing him with his daughter, when I had no idea if I'd ever see you again made me behave in ways I am not proud of. "
Hermione sighed at him, lifting her head from his shoulder. "I'm not sure what to say to that." she murmured. "Would you appologise?"
"To Arthur or Mrs Potter?"
"Both?"
He looked at her seriously for a moment, searching her face. "Yes."
She nodded thoughtfully, "ok."
"Hermione?" he began hesitantly, "I've been working on some legislation, I wondered if you'd look over it for me?"
"Legislation?" she asked, confused.
"To put measures in place to help muggleborns assimilate into our world, rather than them only learning about it at eleven and having to fight to work out the nuances of our culture."
She looked at him wide eyed, "What?"
"I...I've written legislation to help muggleborns assimilate."
"Why?"
"Because I love you, Princess, so fucking much. And my prejudice almost saw you murdered. I….I don't want to be that man, Hermione."
"Oh. Oh Father." she whispered, wrapping her arm around him, "Of course I'll look it over."
Hermione watched the tall blonde woman make her way over to the sofa she was sitting on, her father holding her arm, as the woman stared at her in awe. With only a week left of her pregnancy, Hermione was uncomfortable and Theo was hovering. She'd deliberately sent him on an errand before she strangled him for coddling her, reminding him that Lucius was due to visit.
"Grand-mère." she breathed, taking in the woman she hadn't seen in too many years.
"Oh, oh ma fille chérie! Regarde toi! May I?" she gestured to Hermione's swollen stomach as she gingerly sat down, placing her hands on it reverently at Hermione's nod.
Her grandmother turned to look at her shrewdly. "Those books and defence lessons were useful, no?"
Hermione choked on a laugh. "Yes, Grand-mère. They were useful."
"Good." she nodded decisively. "How are you darling girl?"
"Better, now." she said with a smile. "Although I could do without the hovering."
Her father who had been flitting about rearranging her cushions shot her a slightly guilty look, making both his mother and his daughter laugh.
Lucius had been a revelation. He had apologised to both Arthur and Ginny as he had promised he would, Harry had wondered quietly if she was imperiusing the man.
And then he had submitted his proposal for muggleborns directly to the Minister with her and Harry's backing. It had caused a lot of speculation as to what the elder Malfoy was planning, many not believing there wasn't a sinister reason for it. The bill was due to go up before the Wizengamot at their next sitting and Hermione knew he was nervous.
They had spent many hours discussing her childhood, and of her experiences of their world. They spoke of magical theory; he had begun to teach her how to work within the politics of the Ministry and made suggestions regarding the vague pieces of information she could give him about her work. He was slowly looking less haunted as if he was coming to accept that she wasn't just going to banish him from her life. The first time Narcissa and Draco had come with him to see her, he had sobbed, startling them all as he haltingly explained that he had never thought he'd get to see them all in one room again.
It was still a work in progress but they were getting there, slowly. Even Ron, thanks to Pansy's steadying influence, was beginning to accept their place in her life.
She glanced over at her Grandmother who was attempting to get her father to sit down and smiled. She had missed this woman, without even realising it. For the first time since her life had been turned upside down she allowed herself to believe it was going to be alright.