Chapter 49

Lucius really, really hated his sister in law. At Hogwarts he'd found her...distasteful. That grew with each passing year as her behavior became increasingly more erratic, but he had tolerated her well enough for the sake of appearances. It wasn't until he'd been marked and he realized how truly deplorable she was that he'd really begun to despise her.

Lucius was no saint, and he was honest with himself about that fact, especially since Hermione had joined their family. He had once been a willing and proud Death Eater, eager to take up the cause to protect their world from muggles and what he had believed to be their unnatural offspring.

He had also been eager for the attention of the man his father had so revered; and at first Tom Riddle had lived up to his reputation: charming, powerful, he gave their society hope. Until it was all revealed to be a lie and Lucius had felt like a fool. He'd daren't ask if his father had known better, as it was clear that a few of his most rabid followers, including Bellatrix, had known that he wasn't just seeking power, but was a sadist and a psychopath. He couldn't bear to hear his own father's opinion on the issue.

His hands were far from clean. He'd done what he thought he had to in order to keep himself and his family safe. But he didn't enjoy the violence; the power, yes, but he didn't take pleasure in hurting others, even muggles or half-breeds. Bellatrix, on the other hand, reveled in it to such a degree that he took pains to ensure she was never left alone with Narcissa while she was pregnant and less able to defend herself.

And the disgust he felt for her only increased after her stay in Azkaban, because now she was little more than a rabid animal.

Lucius only wished he could find a way to kill her unobtrusively, it would be a kindness not just to the world, but to her. The problem was that, despite their familial relationship, their rivalry was no secret amongst the Death Eaters and if Bellatrix suddenly disappeared without explanation and he had no alibi, he'd automatically be suspected.

Which also might be a risk Lucius was willing to take except for the fact that Bellatrix was the Dark Lord's favorite. Not his most useful servant, or even his most trusted (even the Dark Lord wasn't blind to the woman's insanity) but his favorite, and Lucius suspected they were lovers. So he had to tread very carefully where the woman was concerned.

Which was what brought Lucius into this very delicate situation.

The Dark Lord was in an especially bad temper lately. He'd successfully broken most of his imprisoned Death Eaters out of Azkaban. But the triumph of that had only lasted for about a week, after which he'd remembered that Rookwood, one of the escapees, had once been an Unspeakable and had finally thought to ask him about the Hall of Prophecies.

The news was not to the Dark Lord's liking. Learning that only himself and Harry Potter could retrieve the prophecy had him torturing some of his Death Eaters nearly to the brink of insanity just to relieve some tension. Thankfully, Lucius hadn't been one of them.

It had been several weeks since then, but the Dark Lord was still very volatile and Lucius was afraid he would acquiesce to Bellatrix's request out of pure frustration because he wasn't otherwise getting what he wanted. He was, in many ways, not unlike a toddler. A malicious, powerful toddler, and as such he had to be handled very gently

"My Lord," Bellatrix pleaded, literally kneeling at that man's feet, and not because it had been required of her. "We are your loyal servants, of course," it was all Lucius could do not to look away in disgust as she kissed his fingers. "But we are getting fatigued with none of your gracious favours to perform. Isn't there something we could be doing?" Her eyes lit with malice. "Somebody we could be destroying?"

Lucius actually felt sick. It wasn't just because she was his wife's sister, a daughter of a House of the Sacred Twenty-Eight; but, while always a little unstable, she had also once been a brilliant, articulate, and acutely powerful witch. It was true that he had never liked her and there was a time when he would have baited her for sport, but to see her reduced to this: a mixture of hatred and revulsion churned in his gut.

"My Lord, if I may," he interrupted, unable to wait any longer.

"Lucius," he responded, disturbingly amused by the situation. "You have an objection to Bellatrix's request? She has been in Azkaban for twelve years for the sake of her Lord, do you not think she deserves a reward?"

It was a reminder, and not subtly delivered, that Lucius himself had not been willing to make such a sacrifice for his Lord. The handful of other Death Eaters who had been allowed into this exclusive meeting shifted away from him uneasily. He didn't blame them.

He dipped his head and tried to make himself look unobtrusive, instead of infuriated. "My Lord, we have done a great deal of work in the past year to keep the knowledge of your glorious return a secret. I believe it has been paying dividends: we've made inroads into the Ministry, Dumbledore has been largely undercut, Fudge will basically do anything I suggest for the privilege of keeping his position." He cleared his throat. "My point is that it seems a shame to ruin that hard work by unleashing those of your followers who are...shall we say, less circumspect. Dumbledore's remaining followers will make a fuss, and you'll immediately be suspected."

Bellatrix literally hissed at him, which, fortunately for him, made his point.

The Dark Lord considered this for many minutes, petting Bellatrix's hair to keep her calm. Lucius could hear his heart thudding in his chest. They'd found the location of another horcrux, but it was surrounded by protections like none of the others had been and they were still working on a method to get through them. And Dumbledore suspected that there was one more to be found after that. He needed to buy time.

"I'm sorry, pet, you'll have to quell your bloodlust until the day when we have a greater hold on this world," the Dark Lord eventually gave his ruling.

They were dismissed shortly after and Lucius was certain he didn't exhale entirely until he was safely ensconced in the Manor.

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"You stupid bitch!" Harry bellowed at Hermione. "How could you do this to me! He's- he's the enemy!"

It had taken them hours of rehearsal before he could say that without flinching. In fact, they'd been forced to use Draco as a stand-in to convince him that she wouldn't crumble at the words, despite the fact that she knew very well that he didn't mean them.

Harry had just 'caught' Draco and Hermione furiously snogging in a not-so-quiet corridor following their final O.W.L. exam. In typical Hermione fashion she had requested that this final blow-up happen after the exams so that she could properly concentrate. Still, it was only the climax of their campaign.

She and Draco allowed themselves to be seen in increasingly compromising positions over the months, while her disagreements with Harry in regards to the situation had become increasingly vocal. Hermione had mostly found it to be a laugh at first, until she realized how utterly disgusted both boys were over how they were being forced to treat her in public.

And then the names: "whore, slut, slag, golddigger," and some more creative but usually nonsensical things began to be whispered not-so-quietly behind her back. She'd known it was coming, but it was harder to take than she'd imagined, even when she didn't particularly care about the people doing the whispering. And now, as the school year came to a close, she was ready to finish this as well.

"I'm not doing this to hurt you Harry, but you're wrong about him!" She pleaded in a small voice.

"He's a Death Eater!"

It was Hermione's turn to suppress an innate flinch.

"He is not, you just don't like him!"

The most painful thing about this closing act is that Hermione could imagine a scenario where it may have really happened: perhaps a little less dramatically, Harry less cruel, she less meek, but ending in the same manner;the end of their friendship. There had been a time a little more than a year ago that she worried it had.

"Him or me." Harry demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

Hermione swallowed: once, twice, three times. This was a lot harder than she had imagined it would be. "Him."

There was a split second where Harry hesitated, twitched as if he wanted to reach towards her, but he stuck to the script and stormed away. Draco, also as scripted, was nowhere to be seen.

Nobody offered her any comfort.

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Draco arrived at her house on the first day of summer holidays with a tiny enchanted Abraxan for Hermione to add to her bracelet. Dobby had helped her pile her luggage around her in preparation for a more permanent move to the Manor, but he still wasn't comfortable traveling there, so Evie would be coming to retrieve it.

It felt odd for Hermione to be leaving home so soon after returning to it, but she'd been preparing to one day move into Malfoy Manor for years now, her rooms there already contained many of her things. And she so rarely saw her parents, even on a holiday. Very little would actually change, she would still be able to see them nearly as often as she had since she started Hogwarts.

It was just that this felt so final, like the end of her childhood. She was glad they'd said their goodbyes privately and that her parents had gone to work before Draco had arrived and he hadn't seen the tears she'd shed.

Hermione had originally contemplated spending one last summer at home, after his parents, and then hers, had agreed to her plan. Except then, in February, there had been a large-scale breakout from Azkaban, including ten high profile Death Eaters. Three had been killed in the attempt as they were ostensibly too insane to manage the dangerous trek across the North Sea safely. Hermione had her doubts about that story, but she wasn't asking any questions.

Unfortunately, Draco's insane Aunt Bellatrix, her husband and brother-in-law had survived the prison break, and then showed up at Malfoy Manor looking for aid. Which meant that Hermione had to start her act as soon as possible. It would be too strange for Draco to show up at Hogwarts with his betrothed after not seeing her all summer.

Draco took a look around at the school trunk and muggle luggage at her feet, his eyes filled with regret, but also hope.

"It's not too late, Hermione."

"I've decided. I decided months ago, and we've been over and over this."

"Mia-"

She raised her chin. "That's right, it's Mia now. So, where is it?"

He held her gaze for the longest time until she raised her finger and touched the side of her nose: their secret signal. His eyes fell shut and he swallowed several times in rapid succession before he reached into his pocket and removed a small charm from his pocket. It was a tiny but exquisitely wrought Abraxan.

"Mother swears it's perfect."

"I'm sure it is." She extended her wrist in his direction. "You do the honors," she insisted, and watched as he attached it to the charm bracelet his parents had gifted her on the occasion of their betrothal, a decision that now seemed almost prophetic. She felt the magic of it wash over her and glanced into the slate gray eyes she knew so well, hoping she hadn't misunderstood the grimoire and that he still knew her too. "How do I look?"

"Beautiful as always, thank Merlin and all the gods," he breathed out a sigh of relief, then he stepped forward and yanked her into his arms. "Mother wants to test it on Sirius and Potter to be sure, but after that she'll key them into the enchantment as well." He explained after kissing her thoroughly.

"She just wants to toy with them."

"Well it would be irresponsible not to test it on somebody. And would you deny her such a simple pleasure?"

Hermione tried, but didn't quite succeed in not laughing, and shook her head.

He extended his hand in her direction. "Let's go home." She took it and he activated his portkey.

Lucius and Narcissa were waiting on them when they arrived, dressed more like they were awaiting the arrival of The Queen rather than, well, her. She bit back a laugh at that thought, she appreciated the gesture. And she supposed this was her world now.

But then Narcissa took a step towards them and all formality melted away. "Welcome home, Dearest," she said, cupping her face in her hands. "I can't believe this day has come."

"Thank you."

She kissed Hermione's forehead and stepped aside to allow Lucius to greet her. He brushed his fingers over her cheeks and kissed her forehead as well. "I had hoped this day would occur under less stressful circumstances, but that does not detract from our happiness in having you here, Mignonette."

"I'm happy to be here," she squeezed his arm.

She looked at Draco whose eyes were suspiciously glassy. He smiled at her and then reached out a hand for her while Lucius turned back to Narcissa and offered her his arm. They then led the younger couple out of the room. But when Hermione saw the direction they were headed she looked at Draco with a question on her face.

"Mother, Father have the two of you begun to go senile in your old age?" Draco joked. "This isn't the way to our rooms."

"It isn't the way to your old rooms, but it is certainly the way to your wing." Narcissa answered without glancing backwards.

Draco stopped in his tracks. "You're giving us our own wing?"

They stopped and turned around, Lucius raised an eyebrow at his son. "You knew this would happen someday, didn't you, Son? You didn't expect to live with your parents for the rest of your life."

"Well, of course, but I didn't think that some day was today."

"With Her-" Narcissa caught herself, "Mia moving in, we thought it was only appropriate that you have your own space. Your privacy." She suddenly began to seem nervous. She actually fidgeted with the sleeve of Lucius' robes and then looked up at her husband for assistance with what she was clearly having a hard time articulating.

"And what you do there is your business, within reason," he emphasized. "We trust you to behave like adults."

Draco just gaped at them.

"We appreciate your trust," said Hermione while shaking her betrothed with their joined hands.

"Uh, yes, thank you." And then he visibly shook himself. "That is to say, Mother, Father," he nodded to them both in turn. "I'm honored by your trust."

They just nodded and began to move again. The rest of the walk was taken in silence, but she could have sworn Draco was standing up a little taller.

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Hermione could feel the heat of Draco's gaze on her as she ran around trying to finish getting ready to make her first public appearance as his betrothed. They were attending the Abbott family's annual summer fête. It was a high profile event, one they'd been hosting for more than a century. However, given that they were a neutral family, Narcissa had assured her that it would be a good place to get her feet wet before she was thrown into the deep end with the sharks.

The problem was that she hated how she looked, to the extent that she was beginning to upset the house elves who were helping her dress. She reminded herself that she'd signed up for this even as she felt like one of Marie Antoinette's courtiers.

Okay. Perhaps that was an exaggeration. But she had never been so makeup-ed and perfumed in her whole life. And the dress just made her feel like she was wearing a costume.

It was a white, strapless ball gown, the skirt embroidered with flowers, with a long-sleeved silver brocade outer-robe which was decorated in various shades of blue and a pattern which resembled nothing so much as peacock feathers. It was meant as a coming out, the color scheme and design practically claimed her for House Malfoy. She understood the necessity. And it was gorgeous, but it didn't feel like her.

"You look beautiful," Draco said from where he was leaning against the door jamb of the bathroom with a suspicious box tucked under his arm which warned her that her outfit was only about to become more over the top.

"I'm not cut out for this," she whined.

"Of course you are."

Her head whipped around. "How do you even know?"

"I know that you're mine, so of course you were meant for this." He smirked and held her eyes until she relaxed.

"I'm sorry love, I'm nervous. Are you sure I don't look ridiculous?"

He cocked his head, eyes appraising, and she appreciated that he seemed to be giving her concern some serious thought. "You look different, I'll grant you that, and I can tell you're uncomfortable. But I promise you that you really do look beautiful. Try to relax." He approached her and put a hand on her waist. "Okay, I'm with you now, this corset sucks, feel free to change."

She laughed and rolled her eyes. "You think it sucks for you? Can you imagine being tied up in this thing?"

"No," he admitted. "But hey," he squeezed her for emphasis, "when this is all over and you're free to be you again, you can make those slinky muggle dresses all the rage." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Oh yes, there's nothing in that for you at all," she teased in return and tried to step closer to him, but was inhibited by her skirts. She officially hated this dress. She sighed and eyed the box in his free hand. "What have you got there?"

He licked his lips. "Before I show you, please remember that as my future wife you are entitled to wear these, in fact it's expected. And I didn't buy them, they're just laying around waiting to be worn. I would have let you choose something from the collection for yourself, but I knew that you'd be too modest, but I did try and find something I thought you would like."

"That's fine Draco, you know better about what's expected than I do, I think. And you have good taste."

He flipped open the lid of the box and she gasped. Inside was a sapphire and diamond necklace and matching earrings. They were every bit as extravagant as she had worried they would be, but she had also been right to trust Draco's taste. They were designed in a kind of flower and vine pattern that reminded her of her promise ring, and were so exquisite that it was almost enough to make her forget that she would be wearing a not-so-small fortune worth of jewels on her person all night.

"They're beautiful. They remind me of my ring."

"Yeah, I thought so too," he murmured as he removed the pieces from the box, handed her the earrings and gestured for her to turn around so that he could place the necklace around her neck. When he had clasped it he left a sweet kiss just below her hairline and then embraced her from behind. She leaned into him. "Speaking of, are you finished because there's something I'd like to show you before we leave."

"Sure, it's not going to get any better at this point."

He chuckled and took her hand, he'd led her all the way out of their wing before his words caught up with her.

"Wait, what do you mean, 'speaking of?'"

"You'll see."

He led her into his parents wing and to 'their' window seat.

She smiled. "We should find a spot like this in our part of the house."

He hummed in agreement. "Sit with me for a second?"

"I'm not sure I can crawl up there in this dress," she considered that, "I'm not even sure I can sit in this dress."

"Allow me to help?"

She nodded and he lifted her easily, allowing her legs to dangle over the ledge. It wasn't the most comfortable, but she could, in fact, sit in the dress. She was surprised when he didn't sit beside her, but instead stepped in front of her and ploughed through her skirts to stand between her legs. He took her hand.

"Nearly three years ago I brought you here for the first time. And I- very clumsily- asked you if you would go on a date with me if you could. I was so terrified."

"You were adorable," she countered, even as she wondered where he was going with this. "But I was nervous too, I knew you were up to something. Do you remember how I rambled on and on?"

He chuckled but didn't comment. "We made a promise to each other, do you remember what it was?" He asked, hooking their pinkies together to remind her of their first-ever pinky promise.

Her response was automatic. "Of course, to always be friends, no matter what."

"We've made a lot of promises to each other, pinky and otherwise, I think we've done a pretty good job of honoring them, don't you?"

She could only nod as her throat grew tight and tears welled in her eyes. She still wasn't exactly sure where this was going, but it felt big.

"I brought you back here that Christmas. Remember?"

She nodded again.

"I gave you a ring and you told me that you loved me."

She just kept nodding, doing her best to blink back her tears so that she could see his face.

He began to work her promise ring off of her finger and spoke before she could protest. "You can't wear this anymore, Mia, I'm sorry. It's unique and too many people have seen it."

Hermione felt rather stupid that she hadn't considered that, but also a little heartbroken at the sight of the finger that hadn't been bare for more than two years.

"I was hoping you'd let me replace it," his voice cut through her thoughts.

"What?"

"Your ring, I'd like to give you a new one."

And then he dropped her hand, the right hand which had always borne her ring, and picked up her left, even as he stepped away from her slightly to get free of her skirts and knelt on one knee. It was an unmistakable gesture, one Hermione had seen a thousand times in movies and on television and it made her gasp.

"Hermione Jean Granger," he said her name, her full name, very deliberately, "I love you more than anything in the world. I promise to always be yours and only yours, if you'll have me. Will you marry me?"

"Yes- I, of course!"

And then he produced a diamond ring which was so exquisite: feminine, delicate, almost modest by Malfoy standards, which just reaffirmed her earlier confidence in his taste, and slid it onto her finger kissing her knuckle above the marquise cut diamond.

She pulled on his hands until he stood. She pulled him down beside her and he dragged her legs across his lap, and then they were kissing.

"That wasn't necessary," she tried to catch her breath once he moved away from her mouth, but between this blasted corset and Draco's hot mouth at her neck it was difficult.

He pulled away looking deliciously disheveled, in their frenzy she'd undone his bowtie- which she now realized was actually a very deep shade of blue and not the black she'd assumed- as well as several of the top buttons on his shirt.

"Of course it was. We did things the magical way, with a contract and a ritual. I wanted to honor your heritage. One day I want you to be able to tell your parents' muggle friends about this moment, I want them to see your ring and know what it means."

She leaned forward and bumped her forehead against his. "Thank you. I love you so very much."

"I love you too. Now, three years later, let's finally go on that date," he winked at her as he set his robes to right and then set about helping her do the same.

She laughed, and she didn't even notice the constriction of the corset.

Author's Note: How are y'all doing out there? I hope you're all well and safe. I can't promise to keep the updates going at this rate, but I do have a thing for the 'Beyond' part of this universe queued up for tomorrow. And I promise to try my best. Also, inspiration for Hermione's gown, jewelry, and engagement ring are on Pinterest. Thanks to Weestarmeegie, the best alpha/beta ever, and to you all for reading!