Dear Ron,

Things really aren't as bad as I think we all expected them to be. I've been getting winning marks in Potions, and my essay for Ancient Runes was deemed "perfection." Even Professor Binns' lectures seem better than I remember them being. And, yes, lessons with Professor Malfoy are preceding without trouble. He's actually a surprisingly effective teacher. He gives interesting lectures and actually answers my questions, unlike previous Defence Against the Dark Arts instructors.

So, what do you spend your free time doing now that we aren't hunting Horcruxes? Now that you're free from school, how do you spend your days? I know you've got training, and that must keep you awfully busy, but I do hope you're enjoying yourself some of the time. I do miss you, Ron. I wish you were here; McGonagall's organised a Start-of-Term Ball, and it would be nice to dance with you for once in the Great Hall.

Wishing you nothing but happiness,

Hermione

Hermione,

I find it really difficult to believe that any lesson with Lucius Malfoy would be tolerable, much less that he'd be a good teacher. And why are you calling him 'Professor Malfoy'? Has the ruddy bastard gotten into your head somehow?

Anyway, you asked what I do for fun. Harry and I spend loads of time in the Leaky Cauldron after training. It's fun to get more than a little pissed every now and then. Glad you're doing well.

Ron

Hermione stared at the letter where she sat at the Gryffindor table and felt her eyes well a little. Ron hadn't even mentioned the Start-of-Term Ball. His letter seemed to have come from a friend, not a boyfriend. Perhaps, she considered, they weren't as close as she'd thought they were. They'd spent their adolescence as thick as thieves, but now it seemed like he was distracted, like the distance between him and Hermione was putting a strain on what they'd had.

She remembered kissing him over the summer, Apparating to the Burrow and snogging in the deep grass beyond the house. She remembered him coming to her parents' house to visit, the way they'd gone up to her room whilst her mother flashed her a knowing smirk. They'd cuddled on Hermione's bed and had wrapped their arms around each other, holding on tightly as if they'd both fall if they let go. They had needed one another for years, Hermione thought, and they needed one another now.

Didn't they?

"Hey, 'Mione," said a voice from beside Hermione, and she turned to see Sophie Roper chewing a scone. Sophie set down her scone and asked, "Are you hoping for a date to the Ball?"

"How could I do that when I've got…" Hermione held up her letter from Ron, then felt her cheeks go hot as she quickly folded it up. It was no love letter, after all. She cleared her throat and shook her head as she said, "Ginny surely won't be going with anyone, either."

"Well, I've got Harry," Ginny said defensively.

"And I've got Ron," Hermione snapped. Ginny was quiet at that, looking away from Hermione and absently pulling a textbook from her rucksack. Hermione felt unease wash over her. What did Ginny know that Hermione didn't?

Before she could think much more on the matter, her eyes flicked up to the Head Table almost of their own accord. She immediately found Lucius Malfoy's gaze, and she just stared. She considered what his childhood must have been like. After all, Abraxas Malfoy, Lucius' father, had been highly suspected to have been involved in the ousting of Minister Nobby Leach before the First Wizarding War. Lucius had inherited Darkness; he'd inherited allegiance to his Dark master. Had Lucius' actual upbringing been as problematic as Draco's, Hermione wondered? He'd probably been indoctrinated for years about all sorts of nonsensical topics - about the supposed inferiority of Muggles and Muggle-borns, about the supposed superiority of people like him, about wealth, about loyalty, about Darkness and Light. Wasn't it inherently difficult to overcome that sort of propaganda?

But Lucius had done it. He and Narcissa and Draco had defected. What did that say about Lucius Malfoy? Hermione pinched her lips together tightly and blinked up at Lucius. He finally looked up from his food and then lowered his eyes the second his gaze locked onto Hermione's. She watched his pale cheeks go a little pink, and suddenly he seemed immensely focused on the breakfast before him.

Hermione looked at her own bowl of porridge and wondered whether Lucius Malfoy still harboured feelings about blood superiority and inferiority. Surely he did. Surely he still felt that way. But if he could realise the wickedness of Lord Voldemort, couldn't he be made to see reason about Muggles and Muggle-borns? Couldn't he be convinced that they had real worth and value? Hermione had six months before Slughorn's antidote would be ready. That had to be enough time to discuss matters of Blood Purity with Lucius Malfoy and try to sway his mind, even if just a little.

Right on cue, a fresh flush of owls came soaring into the Great Hall. Some bore newspapers, others letters. A telltale red envelope made its way over to the Ravenclaw table, and then a witch's voice shrieked out through the Great Hall, Magically Amplified.

"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, GETTING DETENTION FOR SPEAKING OUT OF TURN IN CLASS? YOU'RE VERY LUCKY THAT YOU'RE NOT AT HOME, YOUNG LADY, OR WE'D MAKE YOU PAY WITH MORE THAN A DETENTION! NEVER AGAIN, VELMA! NEVER AGAIN!"

People went quiet as Velma's Howler destroyed itself. Hermione couldn't help feeling sorry for the Ravenclaw girl. Hermione had broken the rules more times than she could count, but she'd never faced parents like that about it.

Suddenly, there were five owls circling over the Gryffindor table. Hermione looked up and then caught a falling letter out of the air. Four more were dropped at her spot, and she stared at the five letters in wonder.

"Erm… are you getting fan mail?" asked Ginny, and Hermione knew she was only half-kidding.

"No," Hermione said firmly. "It's… they're responses. You see, I had to send out an inquiry, and… erm… anyway, it's just news from the people I've written to."

She gathered up the letters and threw her rucksack over her shoulder. Sophie Roper and Ginny Weasley seemed immensely interested in whatever letters Hermione had received, but she didn't grant them the satisfaction of any more knowledge. She just stood from the bench and said,

"See you in Defence."

With that, she strode quickly out of the Great Hall and made her way up the marble steps. Flight by flight she climbed until she came to the third floor, and she began to take quick steps across the stones. Defence Against the Dark Arts was her first lesson of the day, but no one was up here yet, so it made sense for her to come find a quiet spot to open her mail. She pulled into a corner near Classroom 3C and flipped over the first letter. She broke its seal and opened it, her heart sinking. The second letter was just as bad. The third and fourth planted pits in the bottom of her abdomen. Finally, with her last scrap of hope waning, Hermione opened the last letter, pulling it out with shaking fingers and reading.

We regret that we have not got the antidote in question in stock. However, we would be more than happy to brew it on your behalf. As I'm sure you're aware, that process does take six months. We would require half the cost of the antidote as a down payment, with the remainder due in six months' time. The potion costs eighty Galleons due to the extraordinary nature of its ingredients.

Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock. Not one of the five shops she'd written to had the antidote. Not one. She let out a shaking breath and pulled the letters close to her chest as she leaned back against a wall and shut her eyes.

"Fan mail, Miss Granger?"

Hermione opened her eyes to see Lucius Malfoy, who had appeared seemingly out of thin air. Had he followed her up here? He looked awfully handsome, she thought, in his midnight blue robes of raw silk and crushed velvet. His silvery hair fell like a waterfall around his shoulders, and his piercing grey eyes bored into hers. Her stomach fluttered strangely, and she gulped.

"You're the second person today to ask me if I've received fan mail," she said, "and I've no idea why that is."

"No?" Lucius tipped his head and smirked. "You're a war heroine. Isn't that enough?"

"Gilderoy Lockhart got fan mail for a lot less," Hermione reasoned. Lucius chuckled and shook his head.

"Petty to speak ill of a madman, don't you agree? So, what are those letters, Miss Granger? Are they, as I suspect, rejections from potions shops?"

Hermione gnawed her lip and then passed the fifth letter, the last one outlining the price of the potential antidote, to Lucius. He took it and read it, his pale eyes flashing. He shook his head again and said,

"The eighty Galleons is nothing, but -"

"Pah!" Hermione guffawed. "Eighty Galleons is a lot of money, Professor Malfoy."

"Price is no object in this case," Lucius said delicately, curling up his lips without a hint of merriment in his eyes. He visibly gulped and said, "The problem appears to be that there will simply not materialise an antidote for this poison until six months from now, and that is an unacceptable eternity."

"Poison," Hermione repeated, narrowing her eyes. "Is it so bad as all that, not hating me?"

"I… I misspoke," Lucius muttered, lowering his gaze. "No, it is not so bad as all that."

"Hostis amica mea est," Hermione quoted him, and he wet his lips before saying softly,

"We can't be actual friends, you and I. We were enemies just days ago."

"Was it very difficult?" Hermione asked him, somewhat out of the blue. "Growing up with the world on your shoulders?"

She expected Lucius to snap at her, for him to insist that his upbringing was no business of hers, that she had no right asking him anything as personal as that. But instead his eyes softened and he murmured,

"It was… looking back at it, my father's father was deeply flawed, and so he imbued flaws into my father, who passed them along to me, and now I've done it to Draco. But it was only after we defected that I began to see the first glimmers of fault in the past, and only in the last few days that I have begun questioning the cornerstones of my philosophy."

Hermione felt a warm prickle in her eyes then, and she whispered,

"Do you hate my parents? For being Muggles?"

"They are your parents," Lucius said lightly. "And they can not help it if they lack magic."

"I asked if you hated them," Hermione said. Lucius appeared to chew the inside of his cheek, and then he said,

"No. Because they are your parents, and you are… not my enemy. Not right now."

"Not for six more months," Hermione nodded sadly. "Then we'll be enemies again, won't we? That's what you want. You want to hate me."

"No!" Lucius snapped the word at her, and Hermione recoiled in fear. He reached out for her shoulder to pull her back, and she stared at her hand on her robe. She expected him to snatch the hand away, like he'd done when he'd wiped a tear from her eye. But instead he just stood there with his fingers wrapped over Hermione's shoulder, and he muttered,

"We are going to keep things cordial but distant, you and I. I am a teacher, a married wizard, and the father of your peer, and you -"

"I would never," Hermione breathed defensively. "I would never do anything with a teacher, with a married man."

"As though I had propositioned you," Lucius scoffed tightly, but Hermione noted that his hand was still on her shoulder. He finally, slowly dropped the hand and said, "You and I will be teacher and student on good terms and nothing more, Miss Granger. Do you understand?"

"I understand, sir," Hermione whispered. She stared up at him, though, and she thought again that his sculpted face and his unique hair and eyes made him exceedingly handsome. She observed his long cane and wondered just how much damage he'd done with it over the years. Somehow, she didn't mind right now. It didn't matter. Why didn't it matter?

She reached out, very much on impulse, and brushed her fingers down the lapel of Lucius' crushed velvet outer robe. He pursed his lips and said quietly,

"Cordial but distant, Miss Granger."

"I'm so sorry." She ripped her hand off of him, but he caught her wrist, wrapping his fingers around her skin and staring at her hand for a moment. Then he gulped heavily and slowly lowered her hand, still holding her wrist as he purred,

"Pretty little witch, you are. I never noticed."

"I think you just saw me as a disgusting Mudblood, sir," Hermione sighed. Lucius dragged his teeth over his bottom lip and opened his mouth to say something, but then the sound of students coming up the steps from the Great Hall jolted both of them. He staggered backward, releasing Hermione's hand, and she wrenched her arm back. She rubbed at the wrist he'd been holding and then pulled out her wand. She aimed it at all the letters she'd received about the antidote for the Draught of Magnes, Vanishing them.

"Get in the classroom," Lucius said quickly, and Hermione hustled past him and rounded the corner. Somehow, somehow, she managed to make it through the entire lesson only asking one question and mostly keeping her eyes on her parchment. After the lesson was finished, Hermione and Ginny were the first ones out of the door. Ginny shuddered and said,

"Just can't stand him. He's a complete bastard. Don't know what Kingsley was thinking putting him here. I dread his lessons so badly, Hermione; I can't even imagine how you feel."

"I…" Hermione thought of the time she'd been brought to Malfoy Manor and tortured by Bellatrix. Lucius had been desperate by then, she thought. He'd only wanted to keep his family alive. Voldemort was just as much a threat to Lucius at that point as he'd been to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Lucius had been in danger when he'd allowed Hermione to be treated so badly in his own home. Hadn't he? She turned to Ginny and finally shrugged.

"I think he's a fair teacher. He does a good job lecturing. We get a lot of information. He answers questions well. I think he's better than any other Defence teacher we've had."

Ginny froze. She shook her head and narrowed her eyes. "What are you on about?"

"I just… don't think he's all that bad. That's all," Hermione tossed her hands up. "He's a talented teacher and he's not cruel to us in lessons, is he?"

Ginny looked shocked. "It's almost like you used that bloody potion, that Draught of Magnes, on him. Have you lost your mind?"

"N-No!" Hermione's cheeks felt very hot. "No, of course not. I still have the Draught of Magnes. I haven't used it. Why would I use it on Lucius Malfoy? That would be very silly, and, anyway, how would he agree to simultaneously -"

"You are blathering on, and I think you're lying," Ginny said sharply. Hermione's mouth fell open and she scoffed loudly.

"Lying! Ginevra Weasley, are you my friend or aren't you?"

"Do you hate Lucius Malfoy or don't you?" Ginny retorted. Hermione hesitated just a moment too long.

"Where's the potion?" Ginny demanded. "Your vial of Draught of Magnes. Where is it?"

"It's… it's in my trunk." Hermione's cheeks were on fire by this point. Ginny shook her head.

"Show it to me after dinner, then."

"I think I may have lost it," Hermione said, looking away. Ginny was silent, and finally Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and stamped her foot. She balled her hands into fists and snarled at Ginny, "It was an accident! I bumped into him in the corridor and dropped the vial. It broke. We both breathed it in."

"Well, get the bleeding antidote, then!" Ginny said shrilly. "You need to fix this!"
"The antidote takes six months. I've written around looking for some, but our best option is for Professor Slughorn to brew it," Hermione huffed. "For the next six months, I just won't be able to bring myself to hate him. And he… he doesn't hate me right now. It's oddly pleasant."

"Pleasant!" spat Ginny, so loudly that some passing first-years gave them odd looks. "Pleasant? You have gone absolutely mad. We need to take you to St Mungo's so they can -"

"No, Ginny. It isn't so bad. Really. Finding that your enemy is someone you can no longer hate… it's a strangely relieving sensation. I don't… I don't mind it."

"Do you remember all the things he's done?" growled Ginny. "All the ways he's hurt you, and me, and Harry, and Ron, and everyone else that we care about? Have you forgotten about the scars that man has left upon us, physical and mental?"

"No! I haven't forgotten!" Hermione insisted. "It's just that I see him through a new lens now, and I see… explanations. Not excuses. Not justification. It's as if I can see more information about his life this way."

"I have no interest in his life," Ginny said, looking queasy. "If it were up to me, he'd be in Azkaban with the rest of them."

"The rest of them." Hermione choked out a noise and shook her head. "Ginny, he's not a Death Eater. He defected."

"He's a coward, and he's cruel," Ginny said, "and if you can't see through the haze of this potion for the next six months, then you're going to see a lot less of me. I won't have anything to do with someone who tries to rationalise the crimes of Lucius Malfoy."

Hermione sucked her lip and wrapped her arms around herself, feeling helpless. Ginny just laughed mirthlessly and whirled around, dashing off down the stairs.

Notes: So there's definitely an attraction between Lucius and Hermione, but will either of them act on it? And Ginny knows and is more than a little upset - will she tell Ron or Harry? Will she tell McGonagall? Or will she keep it a secret? And WHAT ABOUT THE BALL?

Thank you so much for reading. Please do take a quick moment to leave a review. I greatly appreciate your feedback.