I don't own HP at all and make no money here. J.K. owns everything.

AN: And the drama picks up again? Surely most of you can see where I'm going with this? But please, remember well all my other reassurances in the chapters to come! It makes my life easier. I am not here to hold your bloody hands all the way through the process, silly people.

It rained that night, and Hermione found herself standing in the living room, staring out the window into the dark, to where she knew Ron's wand still lay. Getting muddy and worn, no doubt.

But she stayed inside and didn't go out to search for it. The outside lamps gave some illumination, but it was still raining. There was a footfall on the stairs behind her and she turned, arms crossed tightly over her chest, holding her robe closed over her pajamas. It was Draco. She'd sent both of them up to their own room that night, because she'd been too upset from earlier to want anything to do with them, let alone intimacy of that nature.

Draco wasn't wearing a shirt- she was really going to have to get after him about that particular habit. She'd let him become far too open in his ways since they'd…he stopped at the foot of the stairs and saw her , made his way towards her.

She watched the pull and stretch of his muscles and turned back around, glad the darkness hid the sudden flush of her cheeks.

He ran a hand through his hair and stared out the window as well.

"Watching the rain?"

She shook her head. He looked at her keenly.

"I brought the wand inside, Hermione," he said softly. "Rolled it into a towel and brought it in that way. Since I couldn't handle it outright-"

She whirled about.

"I didn't ask you to bring it in," she began.

He held up his hands. "I know. But you shouldn't leave something like just lying about that way. What if some stranger did find a way around your wards?"

"Draco-" She stopped abruptly and turned back around. "God damn it," she whispered a second later.

Draco frowned.

"I just came down for some tea. I'll be in the kitchen, out of your hair." He started to back away, but she turned around again and reached out, grabbed his arm. He paused and looked down at her hand, then up at her.

His jaw was set and he looked upset, or hurt. Hermione couldn't quite tell; their faces were so in shadow. Then he spoke.

"Make up your mind," he said, voice tense. She dropped her hand and stepped away from him. He continued to look down at her. "Well?" he said. "Is that your answer, or are you going to use words and explain it all for me?"

She shook her head and started to turn around again. This time he reached out and grabbed her. She gave a small gasp and tried to pull away, but he held her arm tight.

"So you'll just keep walking away from every little confrontation, Hermione, really?"

She made a small, unhappy noise and he swore and released her arm. She rubbed at it.

"I didn't mean make up your mind for all time, damn it," he said. "But it's late and you didn't want me around earlier and I really did just come down for some tea. So if you'd like me to keep you company, you're going to have to make it quite clear."

"Do you…not want to?" she asked and he sighed, ran his hand through his hair again.

"Of course I do," he murmured. He paused and then went on, "Would you like some tea as well?"

She nodded quickly and moved ahead of him, towards the kitchen. He followed her more slowly, rubbing his face in frustration and trying not to sigh again. They both stopped short when she turned on the light and stood blinking in the brightness for a second while their eyes adjusted.

Hermione went to the stove and shook the kettle, then started it. She reached for the tea tin and pulled it out, along with the other tea implements- a cozy, spoons. Draco walked over to stand behind her and reached over her head into the cupboard for mugs.

Mugs for tea at night, cups for tea any other time. She was a peculiar creature in some ways. He smiled slightly as he lowered his arm and there was a movement in front of him as Hermione noticed his proximity. She turned around and looked up at him, leaning back against the counter. He set the mugs down and then reached up again, shutting the cupboard door slowly. His eyes roamed over her face.

"Am I in your way?" he asked and she shook her head. Then she slipped her arms under his extended ones, wrapping them about his torso and laying her head against his chest. He gave a slight start, then finished shutting the cupboard and lowered his hands to her shoulders.

"What is it?" he asked and kissed the top of her head. She shook her head and held him more tightly.

"Nothing," she murmured after a moment. "Why were you up?"

"Couldn't sleep," he replied and gave in to the embrace, sliding his arms around her shoulders. She nestled closer and he felt his heart begin pounding.

"Is it the headaches?" she asked.

"No," he said. "Those are better. Ibuprofen is amazing."

"And the massages help?"

Draco was silent for a moment. It was hard to say whether those were more help than hindrance, honestly, considering he walked away from every single one wanting to screw Hermione into the floor. In fact, the sex that always followed the massages had probably done more to relax his chronic tension than anything else.

But he probably shouldn't say that.

"Yeah," he finally said. "The massages help."

She nodded against him and gave a somewhat contented sigh. He kissed her head again.

"Hermione, no offense, but this isn't like you."

"I'm not very affectionate, you mean?" she asked and he laughed some.

"No…you seem very…" Needy, he finished in his mind. Vulnerable. But again, he couldn't exactly say those things. He settled on another question. She'd talked to him some the last two days. Maybe she'd confide in him now.

"What's bothering you?" he asked and she buried her face against his chest, rubbed her cheeks across it.

Then again, he wished she weren't doing that right then, either. It was very difficult to concentrate on her words when all he could feel was her soft body against his and softer lips along his bare skin.

"Nothing," she said at first, but sighed a minute later. "Loads of things."

"Is it the wand?"

"That's part of it," she admitted. "It's just…another sign of change I'm not ready for. That I don't want. I feel as if…everyone is pushing me to change, to move on. Ron did it first," she said softly. "And when I moved away, Ginny and Harry kept after me. And now things are happening so quickly, just after I've got used to a few of the changes."

"Like us?" he asked, hardly daring to breathe.

She looked up at him, let go. He drew away as well and leaned on the island, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched her.

"Like you," she said after a moment.

The kettle began whistling, breaking the tension and she turned away. Her hands were shaking again as she poured the water. Draco suddenly moved behind her again, taking the kettle from her hands and setting it aside. He turned her back around, held her again.

"What-"

"Shh," he murmured. "Let me hold you…while I still can."

She didn't protest and relaxed against him once more; leaving the water in the mugs behind them to cool, and the tea to brew too long.

It didn't matter anyway, because a few minutes later Draco was leading her from the now darkened kitchen and back to her bedroom, the door closing firmly behind them. They had ghosts to deal with tonight, and no amount of tea would fix it.

Another week passed. Hermione wasn't sure where the time was going. Between fretting over practicing magic- she'd promised Harry that Ron's wand would do for her, after all (anything to get him off her back about the damned magic); and counting down the days until her life would be Malfoy-free (and trying to convince herself that was actually a good thing); she didn't have time for anything else. Not with all the regular chores thrown in on top of that.

But the emotional turmoil was definitely the worst. Chores, she was used to. Her horses, she could handle them in her sleep. The healing scars, the curling her fingers about a wand, the digging out her old text books…that was the hard part. Of course, she could have saved herself some trouble if she'd gotten a new wand, herself, rather than using Ron's simply because it was convenient…ha. There was nothing convenient about using her dead lover's wand. She ended up getting angry and throwing it across the field half the time.

In fact, after the fourth failed practice attempt, Lucius had found her and had to help her look for it. After he'd comforted her tears of frustration.

"You're a mess," he said, looking her over with a critical eye as he watched her pick up the wand again.

She sat down hard in the grass and looked up at him balefully.

"I know," she replied. "But you can't tell me you wouldn't be the same."

He sniffed and tossed his hair over his shoulder.

"Of course I wouldn't. What do you take me for?"

"An old man," she shot back and then grimaced. "Sorry."

"I do believe you're becoming entirely too free with that word these days," he replied and when she didn't respond, just stared in front of her with watery eyes and a frown on her face, he finally sighed and picked out a spot to sit beside her, lowering himself into the grass gingerly.

"That," he said stiffly, "was a joke."

"I know," she replied and gave him a wry look. "It wasn't very good."

There was silence for a moment and then Lucius spoke again.

"What is bothering you?" he said, echoing his son's question from a week ago. Hermione cast a strange look at him and he felt her gaze intensely.

"More change," she muttered and looked away again, only to feel his gaze upon her that time. She turned and met his eyes.

"Tell me," he said, his voice as gently commanding with her as it was with his son. She shivered and tried to tear her eyes away.

"You can't intimidate me into confidences, Lucius," she finally said. He gave her a smug look.

"Oh? I was sure I'd been doing rather decent work of it already."

She pursed her lips and stared back at him for a second longer. "Do you delight in making Draco envious of you?"

Lucius' eyes narrowed and he raised a brow. "On the contrary, Hermione, you're the one causing his jealousy of me all on your own."

"Oh, and how am I doing that?" she retorted, feeling her ire.

"I think you know," he replied, his voice smooth.

Her face paled, her scars standing stark against her skin. His eyes traced over them. That was entirely Draco's doing, yet she sat here picking a fight with him over that same boy's feelings. Ridiculous. Didn't the girl know anything?

"I'm not the only one walking a line here, Lucius," she finally responded, her voice low. "I appreciate your companionship and I'm probably a little fond of you. But that's as far as it goes."

He eyed her a moment more before looking away, out over the field that still smelt of the magic she'd been attempting.

"Hermione," he began slowly, "I really don't know why you're attempting to pick a fight with me, when it's Draco you want to push away, knowing that you'll have to give him up soon."

Hermione slapped him. He actually felt it, she'd put so much effort behind it. He felt his face change as he touched his jaw, felt the anger trying to escape. He controlled it and turned back to her.

"I take it that means you do want to push him away, but can't anymore, since you feel you actually need him now?"

She lifted her hand to hit him again and then balled it into a fist and hit the ground instead.

"I wish I hated you," she hissed and then she was up and walking away. He watched her go, then turned and rubbed at his jaw some.

He missed his wife.

Harry set the letter back on his desk. It was an emergency, that his border contact had sent an owl straight to his office at the ministry. The message was coded, of course, but that didn't change the fact that it was extremely dangerous for him to have done so. He rubbed his forehead out of habit and looked at the letter again. It still said the same thing.

The package has not arrived.

Oh, no. No, no, no. He rubbed his forehead again and then reached into one of his pockets, feeling for change. He had to find a phone now. No, first he had to owl Ginny. Then he had to find a phone. Then he had to find Zabini.

Hermione stalked back into the house in time to catch the ringing telephone.

"Hello?" she growled.

"Hermione, it's Harry," came a tentative voice and Hermione took a deep breath.

"Hi, Harry. What is it?"

"Look, I can tell this is a bad time, but you need to know something- I already sent Ginny a message, informing her-"

"Harry, you'd better get on with it if it's important."

"Right, sorry," he muttered. "Look, Zabini is unaccounted for."

"Excuse me?" Hermione responded. "Harry, what does that-"

"It means," he interrupted, "that Zabini is fucking unaccounted for and has not reached his contact for the next stage of his journey to his new bloody life. It means that he could be anywhere, right now, because in order for him to go off the grid we had to lift all wards and magic sanctions. Do you understand why I'm so worried now?" he finished quietly and Hermione felt her heart stop, then speed up again.

"Are you sure?" she breathed.

"As sure as I can be," he replied. "Zabini is in the wind and I need to come over and check your wards-"

"Harry, we went over this last Sunday. You know we're safe out here."

"You never know when someone will find a loophole around a spell, Hermione," he replied patiently.

"But Zabini didn't even care about me- he was angrier at Ginny-"

"Ginny is at my flat now," Harry explained. "She's safe as can be. I know Zabini blamed me the most, but I want to check-"

"Shouldn't you be out tracking him?" Hermione asked. "Harry- it's a waste of time to come out here. Look, I have a wand now, I can defend us if need be. And those wards are airtight. You know they are. I don't want you worrying about us any. Zabini doesn't even know where I live, Harry. He didn't even know my alias, which is what this address is listed under. You're worrying about nothing."

"Hermione-"

"Harry, stop it. I insist you focus on your cases at hand, focus on starting that search for him. That's going to take some doing anyway, since you can't very well search for someone who's supposed to be dead, can you?"

Harry was quiet and Hermione went on.

"There you are. I'm right, you know I am. Thank you for calling and telling me, Harry. I'll inform Lucius and Draco. We'll be especially careful. And you can come over in a day or so and check everything then, but only once you've gotten things sorted from your end. Alright? I absolutely insist."

Harry made a few disgruntled noises and finally agreed with Hermione. "Tomorrow," he said. "I'll be by tomorrow night, at the latest. Alright? And we may have to move up the Malfoys' escape because of this."

"Oh, Harry, no-" Hermione began, then stopped abruptly, covering her mouth.

Harry was quiet for a minute before speaking again.

"Hermione? They haven't changed their minds, have they?"

She shook her head, held the phone tightly. "No, that's not what I…I'm being silly. Please, go take care of the problem, Harry. I'll see you tomorrow night."

He replied hesitantly. "Alright. Tomorrow night or sooner. Lock everything up tight tonight, Hermione."

"I will," she replied softly. "Night, Harry."

He murmured a goodbye and hung up as well. Hermione stood staring at the phone in her hand for a second before putting it back in its cradle. Her other hand tightened about the wand she was still holding, and she jumped when she heard a footfall in the hall behind her. She whirled about, wand trained at Draco, who was standing with his hands up.

"Didn't mean to startle you," he said and she gave a short laugh and lowered the wand. She leaned back against the hall table.

"You didn't- I just…that was Harry," she finished. She waved the wand about lazily before setting it behind her on the table. "Zabini has not shown up at the latest check point, apparently."

Draco frowned. "Like hell he hasn't."

"I'm afraid not." She tired to smile bravely. "Harry needs to get a search party begun, but he'll be over tomorrow night to double check on all the wards. He thinks it's himself Zabini is after-"

"It isn't," Draco murmured. "It's us. Me and Dad."

Hermione paled. "You don't- why would it be you?"

"Because," Lucius broke in, walking up the hall from the back door, "it was my awakening that brought the unfortunate truth to the surface. If I'd never come around, it's likely he could have continued to pull the wool over Miss Weasley's eyes and been out on good behavior after a time."

Hermione shook her head. "That would never have happened. Ginny is a pit bull."

"Zabini never was one to listen to reason when it came to saving his own skin," Lucius responded and Draco crossed his arms, agreeing with his father. Both men looked back at Hermione.

"And Potter's not coming until tomorrow night?"

Hermione shook her head again.

"But honestly, his wards are some of the best. And I already told him, Zabini doesn't know where I live. He has no idea how to get here! We're perfectly alright, you two, honestly."

Draco and Lucius exchanged glances.

"Isn't there a marathon of one of those ridiculous shows on the television this evening?" Lucius suddenly asked.

"Oh, er…yeah," Draco responded. "An all night marathon, right?"

"Yes. I had wondered if I might watch it. Would either of you care to join me?"

Hermione watched the forced banter between father and son a minute longer before she spoke up.

"You both are idiots," she declared. "Stay up all night if it makes you feel better. I'm going to take care of the horses and then eat and go to bed like a normal person."

Draco looked somewhat pained at her words, but watched her go with a feeling of satisfaction. Lucius wasn't sure if satisfaction was the word for how he felt, particularly, and he rubbed his jaw again. Draco glanced over and noticed the action, then noticed the red spot on his father's face.

"You alright, Dad?"

Lucius gave his son a disinterested glance and shrugged. "One of the horses," he murmured in explanation. Draco's brow wrinkled as he tried to work that one out, but Lucius had already turned to go into the kitchen and brew the first pot of coffee.

It was going to be a long night.

AN: The last phase of my evil plot? Or next to last phase? Only time will tell! Eheeheeheeheeeee! :)