"You didn't wake me."

Lucius turned around to see his wife standing by the door to his study holding two cups of steaming tea, still wearing her dressing gown.

"No, I didn't," he replied, not in the slightest bit apologetic.

He did it on purpose. She slept quite late last night again, just half an hour before the sun rose, had been for the past week and Lucius was starting to worry. Hermione did warn him about having more sleepless nights than usual but he didn't realize how she would take that warning to heart. It's a miracle she hadn't passed out from the lack of sleep. Lucius made a mental note to check their supply of Pepper-up potion and Invigoration Draught.

Hermione walked into the room, stopping in front of his desk to place the two cups she's holding. She walked around to where he stood by the bookshelves and gave him a quick kiss.

"Well, the least you could do is stay in bed with me," she said, voice still a bit gruff from sleep. "I missed seeing your face first thing in the morning when I wake up."

Lucius circled his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him, "In that case, you should come to bed a little early."

"Prat," she muttered as she playfully smacked him on the chest.

Lucius responded by trailing wet kisses down her throat. "Do you think we can arrange two more at our table for the Inauguration Ball?"

"For whom?" she asked distractedly as she felt his lip ghosting over her collarbone.

"The Greengrasses," he said and Hermione felt the rumble of his voice, sending a hot wave straight to her core.

She gently pushed him away, eyebrows knotted in confusion, "Why in Godric's name would we want them there?" Sure the Greengrasses are family now through Draco and Astoria's marriage but Hermione hardly thought that makes them friends. And she's fairly positive Lucius felt the same.

"I'm going to need their money for the company at some point,"

"The expansion?"

Lucius nodded, "The staff cuts will only get us halfway there. We'll need to fund new projects."

"I'll talk to Theo," she said, touching his cheek affectionately before completely pulling away.

Hermione strode back over his desk, perching her bottom on the edge. The action caused her dressing gown to slid up, revealing her toned thighs to him. She lifted the cup of tea and took a tentative sip.

"How're we doing?" Lucius asked, never taking his eyes off her.

He imagined those thighs firmly wrapped around his waist as he pounded into her relentlessly—just the way she liked it. He could feel the beginnings of an erection, the result of having a rather insatiable appetite for his wife, though Lucius doubted they'd have a moment to spare for such attentions today.

"Good."

"Just good?" he raised an eyebrow at her. Lucius tried to distract himself by perusing some of the books sitting by the bookshelf.

"There's progress," Hermione replied while flicking through the papers sitting at his desk. "I'm meeting with Elphias Doge later to discuss the education bill."

"Good luck with that," he snorted inelegantly. "I'm surprised that the old bat is still working in the Ministry."

"Kingsley pulled Doge back along with some of the others. He needed all the manpower he could get," she sighed. "How did you do it?"

"The political atmosphere was different back then. I don't think my previous methods would work now and it would definitely put you in a bad light if you so much as speak ill about him," Lucius tapped a finger on his chin. "What surprised me, though, is that the Minister didn't even come to you for a consultation considering you tick all the boxes."

"I don't know what his game is and why the fuck he's antagonizing me. First, it was McLaggen, and now this bill with Doge," she sat the papers down and glanced up to where Lucius is standing. "And, I'm going to meet with Susan Bones next week."

"She's your pick?"

Hermione nodded. "I need your help with her too. You've worked with her before."

"Of course, my dear. Whatever you need," he pulled a book from the shelf and levitated it to the stacks sitting on his desk. "Oh, before I forget, Rita Skeeter will be coming over tomorrow afternoon to start the interview."

Hermione nodded, "What are we going to tell her?"

Lucius turned around and stalked towards where his wife was sitting. He placed a finger underneath her chin and tilted her head upwards before dipping his head to capture her lips in a passionate kiss. Lucius pulled back after a while, resting his forehead against hers. Chocolate brown eyes met sleet gray ones.

"Our story."

Hermione sat behind her desk, reading the first draft of Elphias Doge's education bill while the man in question sat across her.

She had been combing through it for over thirty minutes now and she wasn't even halfway through when she decided that the bill was total trash. Tax increase? Ministry oversight? As if having a board of governors that oversaw the running of Hogwarts was enough, he wanted to involve the Ministry too!

She tried to recall a time she had hurt Kingsley or stepped a toe out of line but no memory came back. So why in Godric's name was the Minister saddling her the task of babysitting an archaic oaf?

Hermione sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Is something the matter, Miss Granger?"

Something in her snapped.

No one has called her Miss Granger for years up until that toad Umbridge waddled in during Kingsley's reelection party. Hermione thought she felt a vein in her forehead popped. "It's Mrs. Malfoy now—has been for a while," she said through gritted teeth.

"Forgive me. I stopped reading the gossip columns on The Daily Prophet for years now. Was never a fan of that Skeeter woman," he chuckled sheepishly and continued rambling on, unaware that the witch in front of him was turning a bright shade of red. "Belated congratulations, by the way, on your wedding to… what's the name of Malfoy's son? Draco isn't it? I thought I heard she was married to that Greengrass girl? Well, it's good that the Malfoys finally saw the light and—"

"Draco is married to Astoria, not me," Hermione interrupted him.

"Not Draco? Did Lucius have another son?" he asked but she just stared at him blankly letting the words sink in. "Oh."

"Six years," she proudly said.

"But—"

"Anyway, going back to the matter at hand," Hermione pointed to the stack of parchment in front of her.

"Is there a problem with the bill?" he raised an eyebrow at her and she couldn't help but roll her eyes. Hermione lifted the stack of parchment for emphasis before using her wand to tear it into evenly pieces. "What are you—"

She levitated the shredded pieces before unceremoniously shoving it down the waste bin. "The bill is trash, Mr. Doge, and you know it. You've wasted your time and mine."

Hermione was planning on going soft on the old wizard despite her grudge with the Minister for overlooking her because, after all, he didn't ask to be here. He was a valued member of The Order and Harry had spoken highly of him in the past. But if she's planning on getting the bill in the first hundred days, she needed to take the reigns and steer it forcefully in the right direction—the very first lesson her husband had taught her.

"How am I supposed to work with that? How am I supposed to get that through the Wizengamot?"

"When Kingsley approached me to draft a bill on education he promised—" Hermione held up a hand to stop Mr. Doge from rambling nonsense.

"I'm sure the Minister said any number of things, but forget what they promised you, Mr, Doge. They only want your name because it carries weight," she declared.

When dealing with stubborn old guards like Elphias Doge, it was either slap them with the brutal truth or pander to their ego until they softened enough to reach a compromise.

But Hermione wasn't willing to compromise and if she ever wanted to become the Minister of Magic she needed her cabinet members to equally respect and fear her.

The more she pandered to Doge's ego, the more likely he'll be less receptive to suggestions so the former way it is. It's a risk she'll be willing to take.

"But Miss Gra—I mean Mrs. Malfoy, my name comes with my ideas," he stubbornly insisted.

Hermione wanted to scream but settled for a frustrated sigh instead. Perhaps applying both techniques might do the trick. "I understand, Mr. Doge, but you've got to be reasonable about this. This isn't The Great Debate; it's about passing meaningful reform. Maybe not everything you hope but help me by helping you."

Elphias Doge looked away, staring longingly at the waste bin where his shredded draft currently rested and that's when Hermione knew that she'd won. "I'll rewrite it," he said resignedly.

"You have less than two weeks," she reminded him.

"If you want something from scratch that's going to take time," Elphias Doge shook his head. "Those ideas I've been developing them for—"

"Then get me a short-form draft. Get me something I can put your name on. We can flesh out the longform later when the initial proposal goes through the first session."

"Okay, Mrs. Malfoy. I'll see what I can do," he hurriedly stood and turned to leave but Hermione stopped him.

"Mr. Doge, is that the only copy of the bill?" she said, pointing to the waste bin. He nodded. "Very well. I'll be seeing you in two weeks."

Although she's positively sure that she'll be rewriting the bill eventually. It's going to be an uphill climb if it came to that but she had to push forward. Ideology is for standing still on a soapbox and Hermione's a witch that never stood still. It's the momentum she craved and Shacklebolt had just unthinkingly thrown her a huge one.

As soon as the doors closed, Hermione picked up a quill and a piece of parchment. She's got a letter to send to her husband.

Lucius stood in the middle of the drawing-room clutching two pieces of parchment—one from his wife and one from Harry Potter, the latter asking if he could have a word with him now without Hermione's presence. He found it suspicious because Potter never really visited the Manor unless his wife was around.

It never occurred to him to ask his wife if Potter was involved in this or not—a critical mistake that he couldn't rectify because Potter would be here at any moment, barring any opportunity to send a quick word to his wife.

At the same time, this meeting might prove useful, depending on the nature of Potter's visit. The only question is: is he willing to take that risk?

He knelt to the floor and traced the line of dried blood with the tip of his index finger. It wasn't his blood, but his wife's. Back when they were both on the opposing sides of a war.

The drawing-room was the only place in the Manor that was left untouched. At first, Lucius didn't have the heart to do so. It served as a constant reminder of the many faults and failures in his life. Though he was about to destroy the room when Hermione agreed to marry him but his then-fiancée told him to just leave it at that.

She never told him why and Lucius never asked, thinking out of all the people, he's the least likely she'll confide in despite their pending nuptials. Years passed and Hermione never did tell him why and the reason was buried along with the memories.

But Lucius often visited this room whenever he had to make a critical decision without Hermione's knowledge. Trust and transparency had always been the foundational element of their relationship but there were things that required him to go behind her back for her own safety.

He was broken out of his thoughts when he heard a soft pop of apparition.

"Mr. Potter has arrived," his house-elf informed him. "Winky has sent him to Master's study like he instructed."

"Very well, Winky," he stood, dusting off the dust that had collected at his knees. "Fetch us some tea in a few minutes."

"Yes, Master," the elf bowed and took a few steps back before disapparating.

Winky was the only remaining elf in the Manor. All the other house-elves died during the war and when he and Hermione eventually married, she insisted that the elf be set free.

Both the elf and its Master didn't take it greatly. It was the first real fight he and Hermione had as a married couple and to think it happened during the first month of their marriage. Lucius smiled to himself, remembering how they managed to convince the Mistress to change her mind about setting Winky free.

He made his way to his study, finding Potter standing by the fireplace. "Potter," he greeted.

"Malfoy," he nodded. Potter paused a moment as if deliberating something. He ran a hand through his messy mop of dark hair, exhaling a frustrated sigh at the same time. "I'm not going to beat around the bush here. Whatever it is you and Hermione are planning, stop it."

So, she left him out of it then, he mused. "I'm afraid I have no idea what you mean."

"Oh, don't insult my intelligence. I may not be as smart as Hermione but I'm not that daft," Potter rolled his eyes at him. "You didn't become Voldemort's most trusted lieutenant by acting dumb around him."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Lucius smirked. It was always fun to rile up The Boy Who Lived.

"Of course, you would."

"But I still have no idea what you're talking about," he shrugged. Winky then apparated, carrying a tray of tea and some biscuits. "Take a seat, Potter, and let's discuss this like civilized adults."

Harry plopped down ungracefully on an empty armchair across him, muttering his thanks as Lucius handed him a cup of tea. "I know Hermione is planning something. There's no one I knew who held onto grudges like her. She wouldn't let what Kingsley did to her go that easily."

"Let's say that my wife is indeed planning something, then what?" Lucius asked. "You want me to tell her to stop?"

Harry nodded. "I can talk to Kingsley, I can convince him to give Hermione the position of Senior Undersecretary."

"You're still as naïve, Potter," Lucius scoffed. "This isn't the Wizarding War anymore. We're playing a different game now and you have no political gravitas to demand such things to Shacklebolt. If you truly know my wife then you'd know that she's unstoppable once she'd set her sights on something."

"I just don't want her to lose everything she'd worked so hard for all for the sake of fulfilling a personal vendetta."

"Kingsley made promises to her only for him to turn it around and spat it in her face. How can you trust a wizard like him to rule over the entire Wizarding Britain? Who knows what else he has done? It is more than personal, Potter."

"Oh, so suddenly you grew a moral compass?"

"Watch your tongue, boy. We're on the same side here," he sneered.

"And whose side is it?" Harry challenged.

"Hermione's."

Lucius watched him closely, watched as those shining defiant green eyes of his dimmed with defeat. Checkmate. "She's the only family I have left. I don't want to lose her."

He leaned forward in his seat and steepled his hands under his chin. "Then help her."

"How am I going to do that if she won't even let me in?"

Lucius smirked. Here it is—the moment of truth.

"How far are you willing to go to help your best friend?"

Blaise Zabini sat alone in his office, a room that's adjacent to Hermione's, as he finished some of the paperwork left. Everyone had already left including Hermione and Penelope. It was nearing ten and he was about to turn in for the night when he heard a rustling sound in the hallway.

Turning off the lights in his office, he stealthily made his way over, using the darkness of the hallway as cover. A movement of a shadow caught his eye and he followed it.

He stopped in his tracks when he turned around the corner and saw Dennis Creevey carrying the exact same looking package that exploded in the Improper Use of Magic Office a week ago.

Creevey pulled out his wand and unlocked the doors to Robard's office. How he got passed the wards, Blaise had no idea.

He watched Creevey tiptoe inside and place the inconspicuous looking package among the others then made his way out of the room.

Blaise decided to step off the shadows and make his presence known. "Good evening, Mr. Creevey."

Dennis Creevey whipped his head around at the sound and was about to fire off a spell but Blaise was quicker, casting an immediate incarcerous spell at the young trainee. Creevey's body landed in a loud thud against the tiled floor.

"Look what we have here," Blaise picked up Creevey's wand and pressed a foot to his chest. "It seems that we have a trainee Auror gone rogue."

"I— I'm—"

"Save it for the ethics committee, Creevey," he cut him off.

"It wasn't me! I—I swear to Merlin!" Creevey sputtered

Blaise knelt beside him then yanked his collar forcefully in his direction. "Then you must hold Merlin in very low esteem because we both know that's a lie. Attempted assault on a high ranking official, trespassing, not to mention damage to property in which Robards would gladly gut you once he finds out you're the one who has been sending the packages."

"W-what do you want?"

A thought occurred to Blaise. He looked at Creevey carefully, weighing the pros and cons. After a beat, he smirked. It seemed they finally found their lost child. "Your absolute, unquestioning loyalty."

"Yes, I—I promise."

Blaise could feel the young trainee trembling with fear. He bet that if he pushed him hard enough, Creevey would literally shit his pants.

"Do not misunderstand what I mean by loyalty."

Creevey bobbed his head frantically. "Please don't send me to Robards. I'll do anything. You name it, Blaise," he pleaded.

Blaise leaned forward, his face merely inches away. "Not now but soon. There will be no shortage of things you'll be able to do for me."

He then stood and straightened his robes. "Finite Incantatem," he muttered. The bindings around Creevey fell and the young wizard scrambled to his feet. "Leave the package there. You've already reset the wards and any more tampering might result in malfunctioning."

Creevey glanced at his wand tucked inside Blaise's coat pocket. "What about my wand?"

"You will find your wand inside your desk drawer tomorrow morning but for tonight, it'll remain with me for safekeeping," he said then turned around to leave. "I'll keep in touch."

Dennis Creevey leaned against the wall and laid his head on his palms. Ever since his older brother died during the war, his parents had never been the same. He and Colin knew what they were getting themselves into when they decided to return to Hogwarts but it didn't lessen the grief he felt at losing his beloved brother.

He felt relief and a vindictive sense of satisfaction when Harry Potter finally defeated Voldemort during the second battle. At the very least, Colin's death was not in vain. After graduating, Dennis decided to leave the magical world to spend more time with his parents who were still struggling with grief. Then years later, he found out that Kingsley pardoned nearly half of the convicted Death Eaters including Corban Yaxley, Lucius Malfoy, and Dolores Umbridge in an attempt to boost his image for his upcoming reelection campaign.

This prompted Dennis to return and since he participated in the final battle of the Second War, he was immediately granted a spot in the Auror academy.

It was just supposed to be a little retaliation for what Kingsley Shacklebolt had done. The package Dennis left inside Robard's office was supposed to be the last one. He hadn't realized that Blaise Zabini was still in his office and now Dennis had been caught. There will be no getting out of this unless he wanted to spend a few years in Azkaban. It's like making a pact with the devil.

"What have I gotten myself into?"