My dearest Narcissa,

Things aren't nearly as bad as I think you and I assumed they would be. Of course, the students and staff all despise me, but that was to be expected and is, I think, irrelevant. I do not care for their opinions. My rooms are comfortable enough, and the food is still as good as it was when you and I were students. Though I feel like something of a prisoner here, I can not help but think that if this is to be my penance, the situation could certainly be far worse. Teaching comes somewhat naturally to me; I am able to lecture and interact with the students with relative ease.

How are you, my sweet wife? I trust that Draco spends enough time with you, and that you do not feel as alone as you did when I was in Azkaban. I also trust that you are keeping yourself busy and not letting your mind idle. You know that I love you.

Until we see one another again,

Lucius

My beloved Lucius,

I am elated to hear that you are not so tortured as I feared you would be. It is no surprise that our enemies, old and new, fail to grant you the respect you deserve, but I am sorry to hear it nonetheless. Draco is fine. I am fine. But we do miss you terribly. Our world is incomplete without you.

Draco has begun dating the Greengrass girl more seriously. I think he means to court her. I know she is hardly yours or my first choice for Draco, but I suppose ultimately we wish for the happiness of our only child. Don't we? I wish you were here to discuss our lives, Lucius. The Manor is empty without you. My bed is empty without you. Visit soon.

Your wife forever and truly,

Narcissa

Lucius Malfoy read over Narcissa's letter again as he sat on the edge of his plush four-poster bed. He wore luxe black silk pyjamas and had combed his hair meticulously after bathing. Now he read his wife's missive for the third time that day before Banishing it back to his desk. He stared at it and thought of his Narcissa - bold, beautiful, brave Narcissa. She wanted him to visit, but he knew he couldn't do it yet. To leave Hogwarts would be to give his enemies power. He needed to remain here with a brave face on, chin tipped up and voice imperious as he succeeded in teaching.

And, anyway, this weekend he had to chaperone the Start-of-Term Ball.

Lucius curled himself under the heavy blankets on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He huffed out a long breath and then turned his thoughts to the enemy who had been made a strange sort of ally - Hermione Granger. Lucius still cursed Horace Slughorn in his mind for assigning the Draught of Magnes. In fact, if he hadn't been counting on Slughorn to brew the antidote, Lucius certainly would have Hexed the man by now.

It was obnoxious, he thought, to be trapped in a situation where the girl whom he had always seen as an inferior annoyance was now a… what was she? Not a friend, but certainly not an adversary. His mind drifted back to the moment earlier in the day when Hermione had reached out to touch his robes, and he'd caught her wrist in his hand. Her skin had felt warm and soft beneath his hard touch. She had looked at him, wide-eyed and pretty, and the hair on the back of his neck had stood up. Then people had come. What if people hadn't come? What would have happened if he'd just stood there holding her wrist, standing there with her gazing up at him?

Was he attracted to her? Surely not. Surely she was just a student. And, anyway, there were potions at play. But she had interesting hair, and lovely eyes, and a neatly sculpted face that she'd grown into. He'd watched her age, and now she seemed like a truly adult witch. She was older than the rest of the seventh-years. She had actually aged out of Hogwarts. Was it the worst thing in the world if he looked at her just a little lasciviously? Did that make him a villain? Did he care about that one bit?

Lucius shut his eyes and let his fingertips drag over the fitted sheet on the mattress. He let his touch drift toward his chest, and then he remembered the way she'd touched him. Her fingers, long and slender, had reached out and brushed over his robe. He had shivered when she'd touched him, and he shivered now remembering it.

"Miss Granger," Lucius whispered, "What have you done to the both of us?"

He lowered his hand and rolled over, determined to fall asleep.

"Miss Granger. Might I have a word?" Lucius stood behind Hermione at the Gryffindor table, and she whirled around at the sound of his voice. Her chestnut eyes went very wide indeed, and she swallowed her bite of apple. She set the apple down and rose, and Lucius noticed that the other Gryffindors who were seated around her seemed awfully curious. Ginny Weasley was giving them a death glare as Lucius led Hermione away from the tables and towards the same corner where he'd berated Slughorn about the Draught of Magnes.

"There is something I wish to tell you," Lucius said quietly once they'd reached the corner. Hermione looked around, apparently feeling the dozens of eyes upon her from curious onlookers. She licked her lips - her pretty, full lips - and she nodded.

"Yes, Professor Malfoy?"

"I am…" He gulped hard and bowed his head, determined to do this. He'd made up his mind the night before, after hours of restlessly tossing in his bed, that he was going to do this. Finally he murmured, "I am… sorry."

For a very long moment, Hermione said nothing. He looked at her, and she was blinking through tears. She sniffled a little, her nose going red and swollen, and she asked in a choked voice,

"For what?"

"For all of it," Lucius told her. He sighed and curled his hand over the silver cap of his walking stick. "I am sorry for giving Ginny Weasley the diary, because it wound up meaning that you got Petrified. I am sorry for encouraging my son to call you a Mudblood. I am sorry for calling you a Mudblood in my home. I am sorry for the Hippogriff. I am sorry for the riots that endangered your life at the Quidditch World Cup. I am sorry for fighting you at the Department of Mysteries. I am sorry for all the battles, actually. All the fighting. The… torture. I am very sorry for Dobby. I know you cared for him."

Tears were streaming down Hermione's cheeks now, and she just nodded. She glanced up to the Head Table, and when Lucius looked over his shoulder to do the same, he saw Horace Slughorn eyeing them curiously. He knew exactly what was going on, Lucius thought. He knew that they were having a conversation that they never would have had without the Draught of Magnes. Lucius sniffed and jutted out his chin.

"That's all," he said tightly. "I merely wished to apologise."

There was another moment of silence in which Hermione just gazed at him, and then finally she said,

"I forgive you, Professor Malfoy. For all of it. For all that you did after a childhood spent being raised to be wicked, for all that you did under the influence of a terrible Dark wizard, and for all that you have done in the name of malicious prejudice, I forgive you."

"Oh." He wasn't expecting that, somehow. He'd been expecting her to roll her eyes at him and stomp off. He wasn't sure why he'd expected that, nor why he'd set his mind to apologising just the same. But instead she'd absolved him. It was an odd sensation, and Lucius wasn't certain of what to do with it. He dragged his teeth over his lip and asked,

"Who's taking you to the Ball?"

"I'm sorry?" Hermione shook her head, apparently bemused by Lucius' question. He cleared his throat and asked again,

"Who is your date for the Start-of-Term Ball?"

"Oh. I haven't got one. Going alone," Hermione told him. She smiled a little and said, "You'll hardly have to dress up. You're practically in dress robes on a daily basis."

"I appreciate the nuance of fashion," Lucius smirked. Hermione actually laughed then, a genuine laugh, and it was so pretty of her to do it that Lucius' breath caught in his throat. He tried to think of Narcissa, to think of anything except Hermione Granger laughing, but he wound up just shutting his eyes and saying,

"Back to the table to finish your breakfast, Miss Granger."

"Yes, Professor," Hermione whispered. She stared for another long while, and then finally she turned and walked away.

My dearest Lucius,

I think that Astoria Greengrass is having a terrible influence on Draco. She has convinced him that Mudbloods are not so bad, after all, and that they deserve 'a fair and just place in wizarding society.' She said this at dinner here at the Manor! She said it right in front of me! Draco then said that witches like Hermione Granger were examples of Mudbloods who could probably be very successful. I couldn't believe my ears, Lucius. You would be horrified. Draco is changing, and it's because of this Greengrass girl. I told them never to speak of such things in my presence again. If you were here, you'd Hex the both of them, I just know it. I am irate. Please come visit soon to calm my nerves.

Yours forever,

Narcissa

Lucius tore up Narcissa's letter and tossed it into the fireplace before which he stood. He blinked a few times as he watched the parchment curl and blacken, as he watched Narcissa's words crisp into smoke. He cleared his throat and took a few steps back from the fireplace, straightening the outer robe of his tuxedo ensemble. He had not written back to Narcissa. He wasn't sure what to say to that letter. How could he write to his wife and agree with her when he'd just yesterday apologised to Hermione Granger for everything he'd done?

Should he tell Narcissa, he wondered? Should he reveal the Draught of Magnes to her? He shook his head as he strutted out of his quarters and down the corridor, putting thoughts of Narcissa out of his mind. He had a job to do; he was a teacher and a chaperone for the Start-of-Term Ball. He descended the marble stairs that led to the Entrance Hall, and he could already hear voices inside the Great Hall.

When he walked through the enormous doors of the Great Hall, he immediately saw that it had been overtaken with autumnal decorations. Leaves of crimson, orange, and gold tumbled slowly from the enchanted ceiling, disappearing before they hit the ground. Banners of maroon, gold, deep blue, and emerald crushed velvet had been hung from the rafters, and there were floating brass lanterns emitting a lovely warm glow. An ensemble of string instruments, undoubtedly Charmed by Flitwick to play themselves, sat at the back of the Hall and emitted beautiful, soothing music. One long table was set up along the left side of the Hall, and it was heaped with meatballs, stuffed mushrooms, cheese, toast with chutney, and towers of sweets. On the other side were enormous bowls of punch.

"Professor Malfoy," trilled the voice of Minerva McGonagall. Lucius turned to see that McGonagall had clad herself in a silk gown in a tartan pattern, and that she wore an elegant black velvet hat. He bowed his head to her and said softly,

"Headmistress. You've never looked lovelier."

"I do not require your platitudes, Mr Malfoy," snapped McGonagall. Lucius curled up his lips a little and nodded. He flicked his eyes up to McGonagall and asked in a silvery voice,

"How may I be of assistance this evening, Professor McGonagall?"

"Your duty," McGonagall said, "Will be to spend the evening in the corridor outside the Great Hall. You'll be watching to be certain no students creep off to abandoned classrooms alone together."

"Ah. Snogging duty," Lucius said with a grim smile. "How noble."

"You have not yet earned the right to stand with the rest of the teachers of this school," McGonagall said cruelly. "You may have proven yourself to Minister Shacklebolt, but you have not yet proven yourself to me. You will stand outside the Hall and watch for students sneaking off."

"Of course," Lucius said amicably. "It would be my pleasure."

McGonagall whirled and walked away, her heels clicking on the stone floor of the Great Hall. Lucius raised his eyebrows and sighed, walking back out the way he'd come. He stood just outside the Great Hall and put his walking stick before him, clasping both hands upon it and waiting. It took ten minutes for the first students to arrive.

The youngest students came in packs, looking like children playing dress-up with their parents' clothes. The little boys in dress robes and the girls in their frilly gowns were amusing to behold. The third and fourth-year girls appeared to have tried to do their own makeup, but most of them lacked a deft hand and wound up looking clownlike. The boys with them were terrifically awkward. The fifth- and sixth-year students who came looked more confident, as though they were growing into the idea of dates and dancing. And the seventh-years looked like veritable adults compared with the youngest in the group.

Where was she, Lucius wondered as more and more students trickled into the Great Hall? She hadn't come yet. Was she skipping the event entirely? Ginny Weasley arrived with two other Gryffindor girls, but Hermione wasn't with them. At last, it seemed like every student had come, and Lucius was confused. But then he heard a voice from behind him.

"Good evening, Professor Malfoy."

He whirled so hard that he almost dropped his walking stick. He clutched it tightly as his mouth fell open. He gaped, somewhat shamelessly, and blinked once or twice to clear his vision. She was…

She was beautiful.

She was wearing a silvery-white sleeveless gown with a high neck, and it had a wispy cape overlay. On the shoulders of the cape, glittering metallic silver embellishments made it look as though Hermione were wearing armour. She had sparkling silver earrings in, and she'd done her makeup in blush pink with heavily lined eyes. She had made her hair sleek and smooth, and she'd pulled it back into a low chignon at the nape of her neck.

"Miss… erm…" Lucius coughed.

"Granger," she smirked, and he puffed out a nervous breath.

"Mmm. You're late, aren't you? Best go inside and have yourself a good time."

"Have they given you snogging patrol?" Hermione looked around, and Lucius chuckled under his breath. He nodded.

"The Headmistress does not find my presence suitable inside the Ball. I'll be out here, waiting to be certain no one does anything untoward."

"Well, there could be no one better to stop students from having at one another," Hermione jokes, "what with the walking stick and all."

He grinned, the feeling foreign to him. He so rarely grinned. He almost never smiled. Why was he smiling? She was making him smile. He caught himself and brought a fist to his lips, clearing his throat roughly.

"Best go inside," he said again. Hermione nodded and swept past him, her cape billowing behind her as she walked. She looked like a dream, Lucius thought, and then he wrenched his eyes shut and thought of Narcissa, thought of the wife who was waiting for him at Malfoy Manor.

As the night wore on, Lucius stopped three pairs of fifth-years and a pair of sixth-years from trying to sneak off together. It seemed the seventh-years knew better. After a while of listening to the music and conversation, Lucius decided he was bored and that he was thirsty. Minerva McGonagall could scold him all she wanted for abandoning his post; he wanted some punch. He stalked into the Great Hall and caught McGonagall's eye, gesturing to the drinks table. She pinched her wrinkled lips but nodded tightly.

Lucius ladled himself some punch and stood sipping it slowly. Suddenly Horace Slughorn was walking towards him, and Lucius set down his cut-crystal glass. He sighed and said,

"Hello, Horace. How's the antidote coming?"

"It is a long process to brew it, Mr Malfoy. I've only just begun," Slughorn said. "How are things with… erm… life with the Draught of Magnes?"

"Surprisingly tolerable," Lucius said. "I don't mind it as much as I thought I would."

"Oh. That's lovely to hear," Slughorn said jovially. "Perhaps there's no need for the antidote, then, if you -"

"There is certainly need for the antidote," snarled Lucius. He thought of the way he'd apologised to Hermione for everything, the way Narcissa had written to him about Draco and Astoria. He thought of how Hermione had looked so very beautiful tonight, and his eyes drifted around the room until he found her. His gaze settled on where she stood in a corner, looking entirely alone.

"Miss Weasley came to me and said that Miss Granger had used the potion," Slughorn said then, and Lucius snapped his eyes to the other teacher.

"Ginny Weasley knows?"

"Yes," Slughorn said carefully, "but then I… well, sometimes we do ruthless things in times of great necessity."

"You performed a Memory Charm on her?" Lucius asked incredulously. Slughorn shook his head and looked horrified.

"No! No, of course not. I Confounded her into keeping it a secret. I don't know how long that will last, but I planted the idea in her mind that keeping that information close was best."

"I'm not surprised she figured it out," Lucius muttered, picking up his punch again. "The girls are close. Or, at least, they were until a few days ago."

"Miss Granger seems very much alone just now," Slughorn noted sorrowfully. "She hasn't got the Weasley boy or Harry Potter here. They were always so close, the three of them. But now, it seems, she is truly on her own."

"Hmm." Lucius nodded. "Will you excuse me, Horace?"

"Of course." Slughorn nodded and turned to walk away. Lucius finished off his punch and set down the empty glass, striding around the edge of the dance floor towards the corner where Hermione stood alone, eating from a small plate.

"Bored?" he asked as he walked up to her. She smiled at him and shrugged.

"No one to dance with," she said, "and my friends don't seem to want to talk to me right now. Ginny knows."

"Yes. I was just made aware of that," Lucius said softly. "You're Head Girl. Would you care to assist me with Snogging Patrol?"

Hermione laughed and set her plate down on the table beside her. She followed Lucius out of the Great Hall and out into the Entrance, where the two of them just stood for a moment.

"You look -" they both said at the exact same time, and then Lucius' face flushed hot. Hermione's cheeks went pink, and she held out her hand.

"I was going to say, you look just as… erm… stately as ever. Sir."

"Mmm. I was going to say that you looked like you'd spent a fortune on that gown," Lucius countered. It wasn't what he'd been about to say. He'd been about to tell her that she was beautiful. But something had stopped him, and it wasn't just Hermione interrupting him.

"Are you really sorry?" Hermione asked suddenly, and Lucius sighed. He shrugged.

"I can not help but be sorry. I would not be sorry without the potion. But because of the potion, I am most sincerely sorry. That does not make sense."

He lowered his eyes and muttered,

"How can one be sincere when one's mind has gone mad?"

"Even if it's just pretend," Hermione said quietly, "I'd like to imagine that you are sorry. I liked hearing you say it. That you regretted Dobby. That you didn't like calling me names. I liked to hear you say it, Professor Malfoy."

"Lucius," he hissed, more to himself than to her. She did not seem to hear him, and she continued on,

"Even if it's only the effect of a potion that will have been reversed in less than six months, I'd like to think that some small part of you really is sorry. I'd like to think that those words are coming from a real place. Even if it's all make-believe, it comforts me."

Lucius was quiet for a long while then. Finally, a pair of fifth-year Hufflepuffs came staggering out of the Great Hall arm-in-arm, and Hermione cleared her throat primly.

"On our way back to the Hufflepuff Common Room, are we?"

Lucius smirked at her imperiousness. He stifled a little laugh as the Hufflepuffs looked horrified at being caught. They wordlessly went back into the Great Hall, and Hermione murmured,

"That was fun."

"You enjoy being bossy," Lucius accused her, and she scoffed.

"Are you denying the same for yourself?"

"No. I enjoy authority quite a bit," Lucius confessed. "Probably too much for my own good. I like being in charge."

"Yes, I know," Hermione said. She met his eyes, and for a long moment, he felt like he was floating. He finally told her,

"It is a nice dress. The one you're wearing."

"It was my mother's when she was my age," Hermione told Lucius. "She gave it to me just before I erased myself from her memory. I did find her this summer, in Australia, and put her memory back to rights. She asked if I'd kept the dress."

Lucius was caught somewhat speechless then. Hermione had erased herself from the minds of her Muggle parents to protect them from the Dark Lord? That was… it was extreme. He wet his lips and said,

"I'm glad you've been reunited with them."

"Are you? Are you really glad?" Hermione asked softly, and Lucius nodded.

"I am."

Hermione touched her teeth to her pink bottom lip and then whispered, "Professor Malfoy…"

"Lucius," he told her, "if we are to be friends, you and I."

"I thought," she said, "that we were to be distant but cordial. Not friends, only… not enemies. That's what you told me."

I lied, he thought, but he just shook his head and said,

"You're right, of course. Distant but cordial. I, erm, forgot myself. Perhaps you ought to go back into the Ball; it's nearly over. Find a boy to dance with. You're a combat heroine. I'm sure many boys are itching to dance with you."

"Goodnight, Professor," Hermione said, and he swallowed hard as he nodded and watched her turn.

"Miss Granger," he acknowledged, and he turned away.

Notes: Well, we're into Lumione territory now, but it's shallow waters. We're going to delve a lot deeper than this, but first - a talk between Ginny and Hermione, another letter from Ron, and a visit to Malfoy Manor after Narcissa insists.

Thank you so kindly for reading. Please do review.