A/N: So remember when I said this story was going to have some plot? I found it! Haha, hopefully, you enjoy!
If you liked this, (or hated it) let me know about it in a review! Also, find me on Tumblr at crochetawayhpff.
Lucius was fretting about Hermione, and he didn't like it. Instead of being ensconced in bed with her, he was instead in his study. Hermione was not at the Manor that evening. And she hadn't been at the Manor in over a week. It was mid-March now, and Lucius missed her. He missed her energy and vivaciousness, and Lucius was quite sure he might be in love with the witch, which felt both entirely too early in the relationship for any such thing and yet pleasant at the same time. If only she weren't avoiding him. Lucius knew something was wrong with her. He felt it in his bones and knew it by the way she had been acting.
Her refusal to discuss it with him was vexing Lucius' nerves. He'd tried cornering her at her home yesterday, and she'd insisted everything was fine. She was just busy.
"Busy with what?" he'd asked.
"Don't worry about it, Lucius," she had smiled at him. "I have it all under control. Now, I really must be off." And she had shooed him out of her house. He hadn't seen her since.
He hoped she wasn't losing interest, although she had assured him she was not, Lucius couldn't be sure.
It wasn't until the glass of firewhisky cracked in his hand that Lucius realized he'd been holding it too tightly. He needed to calm down, or he risked scaring Hermione away, and that was a thought he couldn't even contemplate. A flick of his wand and he vanished his glass and the whisky he'd spilled.
"What's got your broom in a knot?" Severus asked from the doorway of Lucius' study.
"Hermione," Lucius sighed.
Severus said nothing, but entered the room and shut the door. He poured himself and Lucius another glass of Firewhisky.
"Aren't you going to ask?" Lucius asked when he was sick of the silence. Lucius liked Severus, a lot, but Severus was far more comfortable with silence than Lucius was.
"About?" Severus cocked an eyebrow at him, crossing one leg over the other. His face gave nothing away as usual.
"Hermione." Lucius didn't growl, but it was a near thing. Severus could be infuriating to talk to, although he hadn't always been this bad. His personality had stiffened after the Second Wizarding War, and Lucius had never poked too hard to find out why. But perhaps he should? Especially if Severus was going to become his confidant in lieu of Hermione.
"I assumed it wasn't my business," Severus shrugged and sipped his whisky. "Is it?"
"Hermione would assume it is," Lucius commented, trying to draw Severus out.
Severus nodded but didn't say anything more. Lucius' frustration mounted at both Severus and Hermione. He knew Hermione was keeping something from him and now he was wondering if maybe Severus was too. Although, he really couldn't imagine Severus keeping anything from him. They'd been close for so many years. Lucius didn't call Severus his best friend because that seemed so childish, but really, Severus was probably more like a brother than anything. They had done so much together, seen so much together. And it was Severus who had truly convinced Lucius that the Dark Lord was not going to win the second time around. Lucius owed his life to this man, and Severus knew it.
So, he knew that Severus wasn't keeping anything from him, but he couldn't stop himself from asking, "Did she say anything to you?"
"About?" Severus' face was still blank, and Lucius had a sudden thought that it was almost carefully blank and that Severus was perhaps keeping something from him.
"I'm not sure." Lucius admitted, his lips tightening. One thing he suddenly felt sure about was that Severus was hiding something. "Something is going on with Hermione. I don't know what. And the not knowing is going to kill me. I wish she'd just talk to me. She's so bloody secretive."
"She is?" Severus asked. "Are you sure about that, Lucius? Tell me, why exactly were the Weasley's able to begin rebuilding their home? Anonymous donation, was it?"
"Grant from the Ministry, obviously," Lucius sniffed, not admitting to anything. It wasn't anyone's business what Lucius chose to do with his private donations to the Ministry. Nor did he like the accusation in Severus' tone.
"And the Lovegoods? Andromeda Tonks?" Severus prompted.
"Evidently, the same, Severus. You never used to be this dense," Lucius sniffed and narrowed his eyes at his oldest friend.
Severus snorted, "And you call Hermione secretive."
"She's hiding something. I want to know what it is," Lucius commented. "What does she do all day? And why is she pushing me away?"
"I don't know," Severus said finally. "She hasn't exactly opened herself up to me," Severus admitted with a frown. Lucius felt like an idiot, of course, Severus wasn't hiding anything from him. He was just being a bloody Slytherin and poking at Lucius. It almost seemed as if Severus cared about Hermione and Lucius wondered when that began. His words to Hermione about Severus' character and obvious damage rang in his ears. Was Severus finally learning how to care again? It seemed unlikely, but Hermione was a rather extraordinary witch. Nor was she Lucius' wife. Perhaps Severus was allowing himself to open up to her in ways he wouldn't have with Narcissa.
"Why does it bother you so much?" Severus asked Lucius with a glint in his eye.
Lucius clenched his jaw. "Why does it bother you?" Lucius turned the question back on Severus.
Severus sighed, "She makes me feel alive." His admission was quiet, and Lucius knew that it had cost him something to say that aloud. To admit it not only to himself but also his friend.
"Me too," Lucius confessed. They were both old sentimental fools pining for a witch half their age it seemed.
"Draco, you don't have to—"
"Shut up, Potter," Draco muttered and pressed a kiss to Harry's lips. Harry gladly leaned into him, accepting the comfort he was offering. "I know I don't have to," Draco whispered, breaking the kiss. "I want to."
Harry nodded and deepened the kiss, and pulling his fiancé closer to him. He was rather pleased with Draco's decision to move out of Malfoy Manor and into Grimmauld Place. Harry didn't hate the Manor, but it reminded him of a terrible time in his life, and he'd rather go there as little as possible. And it wasn't as if Draco wasn't spending most nights in Harry's bed anyway. Another thing that Harry absolutely delighted in.
"When?" Harry muttered as Draco began kissing down his neck, nipping at his collarbone.
"Today," Draco mouthed into Harry's skin, and Harry felt love rush through him at Draco's eagerness.
"Go, Ron," Ginny ordered, both hands on her hips. She was sick of her brother and his ridiculous moping. She was home for Easter hols, and all Ron had done was mope around the newly constructed Burrow.
"Go where?" Ron asked dully.
"Go see Harry and Hermione," Ginny explained as if she were talking to a child. "You bloody miss them, and you're miserable."
"They dumped me," Ron replied sullenly.
"Of course, they didn't dump you, Ron. They're in relationships, that doesn't mean that they don't want to be your friend anymore. Honestly, you are so thick sometimes."
"With Malfoys!" Ron sneered. "How can either of them… it's just disgusting… Lucius is old enough to be Hermione's father! And after everything that Draco did to us as kids? It's vile."
"Grow up," Ginny snapped. "They have, it's your turn now. The world isn't black and white, Ron. Do you think Draco Malfoy wanted to get a Dark Mark at sixteen? You think he wanted that bastard Voldemort," Ron still shuddered at that name, "living in his house? Lucius worked for the order since the day Voldemort came back! They aren't who you thought they were. But Harry and Hermione? They are. They believe in the good in people, and obviously, see it in both Lucius and Draco. Why can't you?"
"Because they are Malfoys, Ginny. Obviously, you are as deluded as they—"
"Don't finish that fucking sentence, Ron. When did you become so prejudiced?" Honestly, she was disappointed in her brother. Their parents had raised them better than this and if Ginny could forgive Lucius Malfoy, then Ron could too. After all, it wasn't Ron who had suffered under the lure of Tom Riddle's diary.
"What?" Ron looked shocked. "I'm not prejudiced at all! I fought on the side of the light, after all."
"So did they!" Ginny shouted. "Lucius had been working with Dumbledore since after the Triwizard Tournament!"
"Draco Malfoy still tried to kill Dumbledore," Ron replied sullenly.
"He didn't try very hard. Besides, you've seen the Pensieve. Dumbledore ordered his own death. And it was Snape that actually did the killing. Although, I'm sure you hate him just as much."
Ron nodded mulishly but didn't say anything for a moment, and Ginny just waited. She knew that he'd come around eventually. He always did.
"Think they're pissed at me?" Ron asked.
"Of course, not. They've had eight years to come to grips with your idiocy."
Ron snorted, "Thanks, Gin."
"Anytime you need a kick in the arse, I'm here to provide it," Ginny replied, ruffling his hair. "Now go find Hermione and Harry."
"I'm coming!" Hermione shouted as she hurried through her house. Her parent's house, her brain helpfully supplied. Lately, Hermione had been thinking more and more about her parents and whether the memory charm she had cast could be reversed. The pounding on her door increased in intensity, just as Hermione had turned the corner to the kitchen. It was the back door, which almost guaranteed that it was one of her friends. Unlikely to be Lucius, she just couldn't imagine him pounding on a door with as much intensity and ferocity as whoever it was standing at her door now.
"What is it?" Hermione shouted opening the door to find Ron standing there mid-knock. Hermione ducked to get out of the way of his fist, but he'd halted the forward motion in time so as not to hit her.
"Oh, you're here," he said rather stupidly, slowly lowering his arm.
"Yes, Ron. I do live here." Ron didn't say anything for a moment, but Hermione could see the red creeping up his cheeks, so she stepped back.
"Come in, then."
Ron flashed her a quick smile and stepped into the kitchen, still silent.
"Well?" Hermione prompted.
"Right, I, uh, just wanted to apologize." Ron quirked his lip up as if expecting Hermione to forgive him with that half-arsed apology.
"For what, Ronald?" Hermione put her hands on her hips, thankful she'd put on a baggy shirt that morning. She was developing a distinctive pouch in her middle. And she knew she would have to do something about it soon.
"Er, for… well, you know," Ron replied.
"Has anyone ever taught you to apologize?" Hermione asked. "Because you suck at it."
"Come on, 'Mione! You know I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."
"Didn't mean to imply that I'm a whore for having a relationship with Lucius Malfoy? Didn't mean to imply that the fact that I like someone, was a reason to call your best friend such horrific names?"
"Well, yeah."
"Get out, Ron," Hermione sighed and opened the door again. She had no patience to deal with him right now.
"What? But I apologized!"
"No, you didn't. You implied an apology. Just as you implied that I was a slag. Frankly, I'm bloody sick of your implications. I'm sick of your fair-weather friendship too. Go home. Think about whether you actually want to be my friend. If the answer is still yes in a few days, then come back."
"Don't be like this, 'Mione! I said I was sorry! Why do you have to be such a bitch about it?" Ron's face reddened at the accusation, and Hermione felt the impulse to hit him. She truly wasn't a violent person, but at that moment she could have beat Ron Weasley to a pulp and been happy to do so.
"This! This is exactly what I'm talking about!" Hermione shouted at him, throwing her hands up in the air. "You don't like the answer that comes from me, and you call me a bitch. Well, fuck you, Ronald Weasley. I don't have to put up with your ill-treatment. I've done it for eight bloody years for the sake of friendship. I'm fucking done with you."
"Well, if you'd just accept my apolo—"
"Shut up. That wasn't a fucking apology and you and I both know it. That was you half-arsing your way in here so that I'd talk to Harry on your behalf. You are only using me to get back into Harry's good graces. So now I'm a slag, a bitch, and you are using me." Hermione ticked them off on her fingers. "Not one of those words implies any sort of friendship."
"That's not what I meant, 'Mione! You know that!" Ron shouted, towering over her.
Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and gave him a healthy shove back before speaking again. "No, I don't. I don't know that. And the reason I don't is because you always do this. You always take your anger and frustration out on me, and I am not putting up with it. Go home. If you still want to be my friend in a few days, then you can come back, and maybe I'll be willing to talk. But I'm not doing it today. And if you only want me to talk to Harry on your behalf, then you can stay home." Hermione indicated toward the still open door as Ron stared at her with his mouth open. She hadn't been anticipating this when she'd woken up this morning and felt exhausted by the argument. She just wanted him gone.
"You're bloody serious?!" Ron looked baffled, and Hermione felt a tiny flame of victory in her chest. Maybe now he'd understand that his actions and words could and would cost him. Something she was sure he'd never understood until now.
"I am," Hermione nodded.
"Fucking insane, you are," he muttered under his breath as he stomped through the doorway. He'd just turned back to say something else, but Hermione slammed the door in his face and locked it. Then cast a silencing charm on it for good measure.
Three days later when Ron came back to Hermione's house, ready to genuinely apologize, she was gone. Hermione didn't even realize that Ron had come looking for her as she was on the other side of the globe. Her pregnancy had gotten to the point where she couldn't ignore it anymore. She could still hide it, of course, but by her estimates, she was at least four or five months along. There were flutterings in her belly, and Hermione knew it was the child moving inside her. The first time she'd felt it, she broke down weeping. It was amazing and terrifying at the same time. And it made her want her mum in a way she hadn't since she was a child.
That was the day she'd booked her tickets to Australia. She didn't even think about trying for an International Portkey. In times of stress, Hermione still found herself clinging to her Muggle roots. The trip to Australia was tortuous via airplane, but Hermione also felt it was a punishment she deserved. How could she have thought getting rid of her parent's memories was the best course of action? It had seemed so right during the war, and now when she needed her mum the most, she was regretting it bitterly. All she wanted at the moment was to be with her mum. Have her mum tell her that it would be alright and that she would get through this. She missed her so much it was a massive ache in her chest.
It didn't take her long to find her parents. She'd left pretty specific instructions in her memory spell, and was pleased when she found her parents in the small coastal town of Broome. They'd set up a dental clinic, and Hermione found herself a hotel room.
The first time she saw her parents in Australia, she'd cried. They looked so happy and healthy, and she almost couldn't believe that they weren't dead. She'd made it through the war, knowing they were going to be safe. And here they were, safe as houses. Hermione was overwhelmed by the amount of emotion she felt at seeing them again.
They had looked so happy; she couldn't find it in herself to approach them. So she decided to just watch them, for just a couple of days. She'd watch them. And in the meantime, she found a Muggle doctor.
Hermione may have been in denial earlier in her pregnancy, but there was almost no hiding it these days. She had a small frame, and her bump was quite significant. The Muggle doctor was very friendly, and understanding. She had prescribed some neo-natal vitamins and set up an appointment schedule for Hermione to begin seeing her regularly. When she heard her baby's heartbeat for the first time, she felt such a wave of love and awe envelop her. She'd made this little thing inside her and was going to be a mum. It wasn't really where she imagined her life would have ended up, but now that she was here she was going to do her damnedest to make sure the child inside her had everything he or she needed.
Hermione decided she needed her parents to be involved in her child's life. So, here she was in Australia, ready to speak to her parents and unable to find the courage to do so. She hadn't forgotten about Lucius and Severus, but neither had she indicated to either of them that she was leaving the country. Hermione put thoughts of the prospective father of her child out of her mind. She could only do one thing at a time, and right now it seemed that reuniting with her parents was the easier thing for her to do. Regardless of whether it was the right thing to do.
