A/N posting early as I'm out and about tomorrow. Thank you to everyone who has checked this story out, I'm pretty excited about this fic so lovely to have you all on board! Thank you for all of your lovely reviews, in particular to some wonderful guests who I haven't been able to reply to in PMs... you rock.

Thanks, as ever, to my wonderful alpha and #1 Yaxley enthusiast Kreeblim Sabs.


HPOV

Hermione's life abroad was vastly different to anything she could have imagined in her wildest dreams; meeting the Professors, the other students, experiencing new cultures, everything she did, every little segment of life that was opened up to her went some way to healing the fissures that had been left by the war and her isolation.

She had made a promise to herself, that moment as she watched the fire-red train depart from Hogsmeade Station, that if she was going to do this she would put all of herself into it. This was no longer the time to hold back her heart or her mind.

She exchanged letters with her friends semi-regularly, Luna and Neville were consistent correspondents and the boys maintained sending an owl once or twice a month as they had while she was away at school. She enjoyed getting the news from home especially as she would often get the same tidbit from ten different points of views making her laugh at the differences between them.

Cormac kept in touch, his letters were longer and more frequent in the first six months but she couldn't blame him for that, she had never given a timeline on how long she anticipated being away. They hadn't been together, not really, but they had become something more than just a life raft to each other, she appreciated his efforts in trying to remain present in her life, to remain a source of support in the only way offered to him.

He spoke of people he had met in his letters and while he never went into specifics it was enough to wipe away any residual guilt that she may have hurt him along the way. She met her fair share of wizards too and for once, in a world that seemed more full of more infinite possibilities than any other she had been a part of she rolled the dice a few times, had bad dates, had great dates, laughed, cried and enjoyed herself for the now rather than for some payday in the future.

As it ended up she spent a year in America only, the culture and diversity on offer were as widespread as the country itself, with magic having originated from all kinds of early clans and settlements. Their attitude to the dark arts was markedly different than that in England; magic is pure, it is the hand that colours it was a popular idiom in the institutions she frequented. That fact alone had her world opened up to thousands of reference materials that would have been absolutely off limits at home, her vista became less black and white, more…. Shades of grey.

Being around intellectuals rebuilt her confidence, as a young girl she had been obstinate and brash but never insecure about her acumen, years of being around people that did not share her interests had rounded some of her rough edges but it had also stripped away some of her desire to stand out by excelling, in other communities success was not seen as a bad thing, it was to be celebrated.

After America, she went to China and from there to continental Europe, it would appear her travels were being talked about by some back at home as she regularly had correspondence from witches or wizards offering her accommodations as she made her journeys. While in France, she stayed with Fleur's parents, and during her stay in Italy she found herself out on a friendly dinner with Blaise Zabini of all people.

The money she had been awarded following her Order of Merlin was substantial but not infinite, so Hermione supplemented her income with various jobs, many of which were in the muggle world. Much to the surprise of her co-workers and even employers she would show up for any shift exuberant and chatty, despite working in a coffee shop or the occasional bookstore she felt like she got time to reconnect with her heritage, she used it as a way to pay homage to her parents by not letting herself let go of the world she was born to.


The trouble with having fun was that it made the time pass fast, Hermione had never really been able to assess the truth of that adage until now. After a four-month stint in Germany, she had travelled the world, met an amazing group of people and had been away for three years. When she stopped to think about her travels she could never have believed she would have been away for that length of time without once returning home, but that was just it, without her parents occupying the semi-detached suburban house with the white picket fence, without having a reason to return to Hogwarts she didn't really feel like she had a home.

The more she ruminated the more she felt she had no other reason for continuing to stay away other than hiding from her life, there were no more roads to travel as it were.

After making the difficult decision to leave Berlin Hermione sent off notes to her friends explaining that she was coming back, Harry had hastily responded inviting her to stay with him at Grimmauld Place. She had accepted but with a sense of trepidation, her last visit there had not been as successful as she might have liked, however, she owed it to him, to their friendship to try.


Harry and a gaggle of excitable redheads met her from the airport, Hermione felt like she had seen enough of port keys to last her entire existence and it was much easier to sleep safely stowed on a plane in any case. She had only been expecting Harry but clearly, the draw of a full airport was too much for Arthur to ignore and he had come along with Ginny, Molly, and Ron.

She soon found that her worries were completely unfounded, Harry and even Ron had grown up a lot in the time she had been away, the shiny ring on Ginny's finger proved that they were at a different stage in their lives, Hermione realised to her amusement that she was comparatively a late starter compared to her school friends.

They had a pleasant meal together that was just like old times, everyone talking over each other laughing and joking at each other's expense, though as much as she enjoyed it… it would never be the same, they were all different people now. Not even Harry and Ron seemed as close as they once had been. Their friendship was built between three people who needed friends, people to rely on, to the exclusion of all others. They weren't quite those people anymore.


Getting up the next day after her first night on British soil instead of the low-level dread she had anticipated, Hermione felt rejuvenated and ready to start sorting herself out. Her experiences had left her with much less fear of the unknown, she was more in command of herself.

Shrugging away the covers she trudged down to the kitchen to find Ginny making breakfast and snagged the paper, it was time to start looking for a job, and a flat.

While she was idling looping adverts and chewing on a piece of toast the morning post arrived. One of the birds, an imposing looking eagle owl landed in front of her at the table, the majestic creature repeatedly ignored Harry's attempts to intercept its load and cocked its slim leg at her. Once she had offered the unknown bird a piece of bacon she carefully removed the small envelope and turned it over. There was nothing to be learned from the outside, the script was unfamiliar and there were no other markings. The only thing she could say for certain was that the sender certainly didn't hold back coins when buying their stationary.

Reasoning that she would never find out by staring at the envelope she tore it open to find a note from a very unexpected source. Curiosity peaked she abandoned her annotated paper and retreated to her room to consider.


The gates of Malfoy Manor were not a sight that Hermione ever expected to look upon again in her lifetime, the spiralling of the darkest silver iron work looked less sinister today than it had all those years ago, in fact, the entire property looked different. Whether it was because she wasn't being pulled along by a rabid Fenrir Greyback or because she had no fear of The Dark Lord being tucked away within the walls she wasn't sure.

Holding her hands out in front of herself, she carefully placed them on the hard metal, the gentlest of pushes being enough to activate whatever mechanism operated the tall barrier and she stood back as they moved open fluidly, the last excuse removed she began making her way slowly to the door.

The walk down the drive felt longer than the last time, suddenly her mind was transported to a different time, a time when her feet had wrenched for purchase on the all to moveable gravel. A time when she had fallen, more than once, onto the unforgiving surface. A time when she still thought begging would help her. She quickened her step towards the property hoping to leave the beginnings of her nightmare in her wake.

Draco had suggested they meet at two pm if anything he said could be described as being anything so passive as to suggest. The short note had been more instructive than anything else. While the pale boy may not have known her at all at school he was well enough aware of her motivations to exploit her curiosity to ensure she came, he had asked for help and then given her as little detail as possible, only requesting that she meet him here.

She had initially thought that the location was chosen to intimidate her, to make her more malleable, but the longer she considered it the less that would make sense, if he truly needed her help, like his missive had claimed, it would be no way to to go about it. She got the impression Malfoy's rarely asked for anything that could possibly be interpreted as them being in a position of weakness.

As she approached the large Manor doors they creaked open and a shock of hair revealed Malfoy himself had come to the door. It took Hermione a moment to recover herself, she would never have imagined he would answer his own calls and so had not been prepared for the sight of him. He looked better than the last time she had seen him, but considering that last viewing had been during the battle of Hogwarts it was hardly a surprise, she hoped she looked at damn sight better that she had that day.

Draco Malfoy looked almost exactly as she had imagined he would as an adult, he had filled out a little growing into his height, his skin was still as pale as milk and his hair so blond it was almost white, but his face was that of a man's now. In her last, most vivid memories of him she could see his face so clearly, despite being seventeen he had so clearly resembled a scared little boy, she had thought of his face often over the years, it reminded her that they were all children no matter which side of the war they were fighting on.

One glance as it his impressively tailored suit and she felt incredibly underdressed in her floral skirt and jumper but she refused to be intimidated, at least outwardly, so she squared her shoulders reflexively. The quirk she caught on the side of his mouth suggested she had not been entirely successful.

"Come in Granger" he drawled in a tone Professor Snape would have been proud of.

"What do you want with me Malfoy?" she asked, trying to keep the snap out of her tone, just being here being in front of her childhood tormentor made her slip back into her old defensive habits. She took a moment to centre herself, you're not that girl anymore Hermione, they can't hurt you anymore.

"All in good time, follow me" he replied ignoring her earlier tone. He didn't sound the same she realised, it was as if the lack of permanent sneer on his face had altered his voice. She imagined she might sound a bit different without her nose in the air too.

She walked after him through corridor after corridor, as soon as they made an abrupt turn moving away from the part of the house that was familiar to her Hermione felt herself relax. She followed Malfoy until he led her into an opulent sitting room, the wallpaper had areas of rich gold gilding and the antique looking furniture was grand but showed no signs of wear, as he moved to the side Hermione glanced upon the beautiful cold face of Narcissa Malfoy. She was not sure she had ever seen anyone that looked so… resplendent. Narcissa was truly striking, given the chance to really observe her Hermione could detect the similarity between her and her sisters, she wondered if there would ever be healing there.

Narcissa regarded her impassively, her long blonde hair was pulled up into an elegant twist, her mouth set into a firm line giving her face a haughty look that she suspected was probably practised, though her eyes gave something away, Hermione had never noticed before but her eyes were very expressive, she supposed that the black blood had to show somewhere. The cool blonde's frank assessment of her 'guest' made Hermione uncomfortable but she did her best to push the emotion down. Whatever she was here for was unlikely to be pleasant and she would hold her nerve as long as she was able.

"Miss Granger, won't you sit down"

Hermione started slightly at the unexpected voice but did as she was bidden, she wasn't sure she had ever heard Mrs. Malfoy address her before, when she had been held on the floor here by her insane sister, Narcissa had continued speaking as if the spectacle was not happening in front of her, her voice had sounded bored. At the battle she had heard her screaming while searching for Draco, her wails conveying her deep distress and a mother's fear. Her normal tone was very nice in comparison, it was aristocratic and cold but not hostile.

As Hermione sat Malfoy took the seat left between the two witches and Narcissa began pouring tea, as the amber liquid slowly made its way into the third cup Hermione felt another surge of discomfort at the silence filling the room, drifting from their table all the way to the high vaulted ceilings. She shifted slightly her body twitching to pace, by the time the milk was being added at a snail's pace she had stuck her hands under her thighs to try to prevent further writhing.

She took her proffered cup and couldn't hold it in anymore "why am I here?" she asked, her eyes darting between the two silent blondes.

Mother and son shared a brief glance before looking back at her, Narcissa made a soft hand gesture towards her son and Hermione faced Draco expectantly, sitting on the edge of her uncomfortable seat with an eyebrow raised.

Draco's eyes rested on the coffee table as he spoke "my father is dying"

Hermione almost responded with I'm sorry to hear that but she bit back the words at the last moment, the expression was such an instinctive response but the words weren't true. Sure, she probably wouldn't have wanted anyone dead but was she really sorry he was dying? Lucius Malfoy had been the physical embodiment of the bogey man to her and her little group when they were little, sure Harry and Ron may have sneered at him but she knew that underneath that highly polished veneer what he was capable of, any man that could set the balls in motion to open the Chamber of Secrets was dangerous and in the fifth year she realised just how much. No, she couldn't honestly say she was sad, so she pursed her lips together and said nothing.

Draco seemingly hadn't noticed her slip as he was now warily glancing at his mother through the corner of his eyes, Narcissa's outward visage never faltered but she looked smaller somehow like she was collapsing in on herself, that and Draco's concern showed that whatever else the elder Malfoy's might have been he clearly still had the devotion of his wife.

Not knowing what to say Hermione simply remained silent until Draco started speaking again "the current prisoner terms allow for visitation once every three months, which we had to campaign for fairly relentlessly, The Ministry does not normally allow those with the dark mark or those associated with them to enter Azkaban, mother and I go separately, I went two weeks ago to find… he is very much in decline and has convinced himself that he will not see the year out. At first, I believed him to be simply being melodramatic…" a small smile tugged at Malfoy's lips then, like he was remembering something he was unwilling to share "...but I spoke with the healer that has been treating him, they have corroborated his assessment"

Hermione swirled her thumb around the rim of her cup, this was not what she had been expecting "why are you telling me this?" she asked, her tone softer this time. She might not be able to offer her sincere condolences but she was a long way from delighting in his grief.

Draco set his cup down pushing his hands together in front of him "we need... we would like, your help"

Hermione eyed him warily, he had said as much in the letter but somehow hearing it out loud made it even more baffling, Malfoy, the boy that had taught her the word that was carved into her arm, on his ballroom floor, wanted her assistance "I… I don't follow" she finally stuttered out.

Narcissa spoke then "when Azkaban was first designed part of the extensive plans included the construction of a graveyard on the grounds for those who died of despair" she coughed lightly "naturally it is firmly against my wishes as well as his own that my husband be buried there, even the thought it…" Draco gently clasped his mother's hand, moving towards her at the first sign of a waver in her voice and Hermione suddenly felt like she was intruding on a very intimate moment.

Draco turned to face her "we wish for him to be brought back to the family tomb when the time comes"

Malfoy looked at her expectantly and her brow furrowed "I'm sorry what part of this requires my help?"

"They are stipulations tied to our obtained visitation order, those detail most expressly that myself and my mother are only allowed to Azkaban every three months, our visits are heavily monitored due to our… pasts" he sighed "it would appear that despite every loophole we have tried to find the simple fact is my father dying would not override that rule, thus if I had visited already within that three months I would not be able to collect his body"

"But that… that doesn't make any sense" she proffered helplessly, her brain attempting to wrap around the design in such wording.

"I am aware…" he drawled, but his eyes flashed, it was quick but Hermione saw, it was the first time since she had entered the Manor that Malfoy had let a whisper of emotion through, how strange it must be for them now? Their lives once one of open doors and endless possibilities, how hard it must have been for them to adjust.

"There is, however, another clause" his words broke her from her thought and she met his gaze "a family friend may collect the body on our behalf" another look passed between mother and son and Hermione stared at Malfoy blankly "All the remaining friends I have are either marked or too close to someone that was to help, everyone else… well I haven't seen them since the end of the war"

Hermione stilled "you want me to collect... his… his body?" she asked incredulously.

"Yes" was all he said, he spoke the word slowly as if attempting to make the proposition sound less totally ridiculous.

She had no idea what to say next, her mind felt like the inside of a wasps nest, questions buzzing around her ears desperate for attention "why me?" she finally blurted.

"Honestly, Granger because I thought you would do it" He sounded tired, she wondered how many last resorts they had tried before he had sent that owl, wondered if they had thought about this at all before they had obviously received word she was back in the country.

Hermione wasn't sure how to take his frank assessment of her, it was true that activities like S.P.E.W. had given her something of a reputation at school but it was a bit tough to still be labelled as such an irredeemable bleeding heart.

"There is one more thing" Malfoy muttered, he seemed a lot less certain of himself now and that alone made a sense of dread pool in her stomach.

"Oh?" she asked pleased when her voice sounded less tremulous that she anticipated.

"You need to have visited in the last year to qualify as family friend"

Her blood ran cold.

Hermione had been to many places that had frightened her during the war but never the prison, she could still hear Sirius' drink-fuelled ramblings about the place, still remembered his gaunt, haggard appearance that night in the shrieking shack, she never thought she would have reason to go to the island in the North Sea.

"We would compensate you of course" Malfoy said leaning back into the chair as if he had just laid a perfectly reasonable share option scheme on the table in front of her. His casual mention of money made her grind her teeth, her mind wanted to yell at him, affronted that he would think she could be talked into something with the offer of money. But she stopped herself just in time, he had leant back, she had seen it… he had been expecting her outrage. Younger Hermione would have screamed at his presumption and would have agreed to it on the spot to prove him wrong. Younger Draco would have bested her, but older Hermione wasn't playing.

"Compensate me?" she remarked lightly.

"Yes" he said, and she caught the minute raise of his pale eyebrow, his tiny tell that he was surprised. Despite the situation, she felt oddly pleased with herself.

"Perhaps" Narcissa spoke "Miss Granger would like some time to think about our… proposal?"

"Err yes I think I would" Hermione rose to her feet knowing she must have looked incredibly rude but not caring all that much at that precise time, she had been on tenterhooks since she had received Malfoy's note and she just needed to be somewhere that didn't make her skin crawl to think.

Draco pursued her down the corridor catching up quickly with his long legs "you will think about it Granger?" his tone was insistent.

She stopped at the sound of her voice and turned to face him, she was almost a foot blow him but she tilted her head to look him squarely in his grey eyes "I owe you nothing" she declared, almost daring him to challenge her, she let the words settle between them before finishing "but I will think about it.


A/N so some actual plot in this one, in the next we meet Yaxley!