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CHAPTER 24

The nervous energy came off Hermione in waves. She'd been pacing the living room for the last half hour, although her attempts at disguising her actions were highly amusing. She'd rearranged the pictures on the mantle several times, and whatever she was staring at through the window must have been intriguing as she'd paused to look out over the gardens on every loop she made of the room.

I didn't want to make light of her nervousness, but her energy was beginning to crash into me. And the last thing I wanted was to show any nerves around Charlie.

"Hermione?" I tossed the dish towel I was drying my hands on onto the counter and made my way across the room to her. "Why are you so nervous?"

"I'm not," she replied snippily, picking up my fountain pen and twirling it in her fingers before replacing it on my desk.

"Alright, you're not nervous. But, you seem to have an excessive amount of extra energy tonight."

"I always have extra energy."

She moved to step past me but I reached for her hands, stopping her.

"You have no reason to be nervous. What Charlie did makes him the bad guy, not you." I lifted her hands and kissed them. "He should be too terrified to walk through the door."

"I know," she said quietly. "I don't know how I will react when I do see him and that's why I can't be still. And I hate feeling like this."

I pulled her into my arms and hugged her tightly. "You trusted him and he let you down. You have every right to be angry and hurt. You don't have to be nervous about him though. I'm right here with you and we'll handle this together."

She nodded against my chest, but I could still feel the tension within her. My anger flared; I hadn't witnessed her abuse, but I was certain I was getting a glimpse of how she felt at the time. Someone she trusted completely had let her down, and while I knew she was strong and resilient, Charlie's actions had brought back everything she had already experienced.

"He was so nice to you in the pub," she said. "He told me he liked you. He told me he knew you would take care of me. What the hell went wrong with him?"

"Honestly, I think it was all just a brave façade. He had to put aside his feelings to placate you, but in the end, our decision to be together permanently must have been too much for him."

"If I'm not allowed to be nervous, you're not allowed to defend him." She looked up at me, "He doesn't deserve your respect."

"Perhaps not." I lifted my hands to her face, brushing my thumbs across her cheeks. "But it's how I'm keeping my temper in check. The fact that another man feels the same way about you as I do is driving me to the border of insanity. Trying to see things from his point of view is the only way to keep me from returning the favour he so ungraciously bestowed on me."

"You know you're the only man I love, right?"

"Of course." I leaned down and kissed her. "And you're the only woman I love. But, none of that changes how I'm sure Charlie feels."

She sighed, closing her eyes and resting her forehead on my chest. "Why are people so shit?"

I circled my palms on her shoulders and shook my head. "I've no idea."

A knock on the door caused her to startle and tense further, her body unusually rigid in my arms. I pushed down the urge to pull the door open and punch Charlie's face. Instead, I assured her everything would be fine.

I kissed her, not caring that Charlie was waiting. She needed my reassurance, needed to know I wasn't going to blame her for her friend's actions, that this was in no way her fault.

"Together, remember?"

She nodded and took a deep breath. "Together."

As I made my way to the door, my own nerves kicked up a notch. Despite my assurances, I wasn't exactly certain of Charlie's mindset, nor was I certain he wouldn't infuriate me to the point of my returning the favour he'd handed out. Charlie had seemed decent enough when we met, and my admiration for him — and what he'd done for Hermione — was of the highest regard. His fist in my face had dulled that admiration considerably.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door. Charlie was standing in the hallway, his hands shoved into his pockets and a nervous expression on his face. That expression pleased me to no end; a nervous Charlie was much more tolerable than the confident version I met in the pub.

And like a childish twelve year-old, I did an internal fist pump.

"Charlie," I greeted, much more formally than I'd intended.

"Lucius," Charlie responded with a single nod.

I stepped back, opening the door to its full width, and welcoming him inside. I was certain the layout of my flat would be disorienting — the memory of Hermione's first impression still made me chuckle — and his expression told me I was correct.

"It's a mirror image of hers," I explained, shutting the door and holding my hand out, palm up. "And she's just through there."

He nodded again, turning towards the arched entrance to the main living area, and I didn't miss the deep inhale he took. His nerves were still on high alert, and once again my internal twelve year-old fist-pumped.

The already heavy tension notched up several beats when I followed him into the living room. Hermione had relocated herself to stand behind the sofa — a barrier of sorts — and I moved to stand beside her. She reached for my hip, holding her hand there for several moments, grounding herself and cooling her temper.

"I'm right here," I said quietly.

"I'm not going to do anything," Charlie said, his eyes darting between us both.

"Don't even start with that shit, Charlie Weasley," Hermione snapped. "You scared me, so I don't know what you're going to do. And despite feeling like absolute crap — because of you — Lucius has been the one reassuring me that you're a good person."

"I am sorry. I reacted instinctively," Charlie said. "I didn't mean to be so aggressive."

"Why were you even here that morning? Did you think you could win me back? Did you think punching Lucius would make me change my mind?"

"I thought he pushed you." Charlie held both his hands up and shrugged, but I noted his dismissal of her questions. "What was I supposed to think when I saw you laying there?"

"How about the fact he might have been helping me up? Or that maybe we'd just fucked each others brains out on the stairs because we could wait one more second to get inside?"

I bit back a laugh at his expression.

"I was laying there laughing and you didn't even ask questions, Charlie. You just assumed the worst. You told me you liked him, that you thought he was a good man. Was that a lie?"

"No." Charlie glanced quickly at me. "He is a good man, but can you even see this from my perspective?"

"Your perspective? Your perspective is jealousy! And that makes you no better than Thomas!"

Charlie's wince tensed his entire body, the comparison clearly disturbing him. And even I wasn't sure it was entirely warranted.

"Hermione," I began but she held her hand up.

"You taught me to take care of myself, Charlie, to make decisions for myself. And when I finally make a decision, with a man who expects nothing except for me to be myself, you can't cope with it. You knew what our arrangement was and how I felt. I wasn't interested in more with you then, and I'm not interested in more with you now."

"I'm well aware." Charlie looked angry for the first time.

"And yet you never admitted you wanted more."

"You didn't want to hear it!" Charlie's voice rose, causing me to move closer to Hermione and gently place my hand on her shoulder. I could feel her muscles tense, but it wasn't fear. She was angry. And disappointed. Charlie had been her protector and he had let her down. "Did he know we were still fucking when you met him?"

"Don't you dare raise your voice to me. You hit Lucius, you're the arsehole here." She was seething. "And yes, Lucius knew. He could hear us through his bedroom wall."

Charlie's temper lessened slightly and he appeared to be taken aback.

"And do you know what else? He was honest with me. About what he wanted. And he refused to be with me if I was still seeing you."

Charlie huffed a laugh that bordered on contemptuous. "So your perfect man gave you an ultimatum?"

"No, he didn't give me an ultimatum. Unlike you, he was honest with his feelings, but he has never once told me I couldn't be friends you. He knew we were friends long before our arrangement, and he didn't care that I still wanted that friendship. He's not jealous and he doesn't think with his fists."

He glanced at me and I shook my head.

"I'm not the one you need to be concerned with. I've already forgiven you, Charlie. Do I think what you did was appropriate? Of course I don't, but I also wasn't here when Hermione was being abused. You protected her and cared for her when she needed it. And for that, you are a good man. However, I can only imagine her fear right now because of your actions."

"You should have told me, Charlie, how you felt. You had all that time, and you didn't."

"You didn't want more," he said. "And if I had…" he trailed off with a slow shake of his head.

"If you had…?" Hermione frowned, then in an instant her eyes grew wide. "You didn't tell me how you felt so I'd keep sleeping with you?"

"I knew you'd end it if I did."

"So you thought lying was the better option? After everything I'd been through, you decided to play mind games and hide the truth from me?"

She looked up at me. Her anger left her in a rush and disappointment took hold. Tears welled in her eyes, she bit her lip to stop it quivering, and I saw the last remaining shred of trust dissolve. This man had brought her out of the dark, but in one fell swoop, he'd sent her right back. He'd betrayed her with dishonesty. And that dishonesty hadn't been to protect her, it had been for his own selfish reasons.

"I'm so stupid." Her words were barely audible but they made me cringe. And I wanted this man away from her immediately.

"Hermione, I'm sorry. I didn't want—"

"You need to leave," I said coldly.

"At least let me explain," he barked.

"I think you've said enough," I bit back. "I thought I understood your feelings, and even knowing what they were, I was more than happy to respect Hermione's wish to remain friends with you. But, your deception is unforgivable. You need to leave, and you need to stay away from her."

He scowled, "Is that a threat?"

"It is absolutely a threat," I told him, keeping my voice even, not wanting to upset Hermione more than she already was. "I didn't press assault charges three weeks ago, but I will, without hesitation, cause you more problems than you can deal with if you go near her without her permission. Now, I asked you to leave, and you should do so."

He opened his mouth to speak but Hermione's whisper stopped him. Her head was down and her arms were wrapped around her chest.

"Please leave, Charlie."

My heart split in two at the despair and self-loathing in her voice, and combined with the sudden expression of guilt on Charlie's face, I knew I was getting a glimpse into the aftermath of her previous trauma.

He stared at her for a few silent moments, then offered me a single nod before turning and leaving. I half expected the door to slam shut, but I only heard the quiet click of the lock catching.

"What do you need?" I asked quietly.

"I don't know." She shook her head, then looked up at me through her tears. "Reassurance."

I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tightly. "I promise I will never lie to you, and I will never ask more from you than you're willing to give."

Hermione balled my shirt into her fists and pressed her face against my chest.

"How did I not know? How am I so stupid?"

"You are not stupid," I assured her.

"You only met him once and you figured him out."

"He is someone who helped you through a very tough time. He's a friend and you trusted him, and with everything you went through, he was exactly what you needed at the time."

"It sounds like you're defending him."

"I'm not defending him at all," I said as calmly as I could. "His dishonesty is deplorable and I'm trying to not let my temper get the better of me and terrify you."

"I thought I was past this. I thought I was better at knowing people." Her voice cracked and her sob was muffled against my chest.

"Charlie let you down. You did nothing wrong. This is all about his dishonesty." I ran my hands slowly down her back and repeated my words, "You did nothing wrong."

"I let him in my bed," she countered with so much self-loathing it hurt my already cracked heart.

Not wanting to separate, but needing to see her face, I took half a step back and held her face in my hands.

"You had an arrangement, one I assume he agreed to." She nodded. "You set rules and made your feelings clear, and he wasn't man enough to do the same." I gave her a rueful smile, "But, I guess I wasn't man enough either."

"Lucius, no! You've never been anything but honest with me."

"I didn't express my anxieties to you. I held back and made you feel at fault."

"That was different. You'd already admitted how you felt. We both had. And you hid your anxieties because of what happened to you, not because of me." She smiled through her tears, "You're not Charlie. You're not Thomas either."

I brushed my thumbs across her cheeks, and once again marvelled at just how incredible she was. Her trust had been shattered, and the hurt she was feeling was evident in her eyes, but she still needed to reassure me she held me to a higher regard.

"We haven't really talked about my thing with Charlie," she said as she wrapped her hands around my wrists, absently thumbing circles on the backs of my hands.

"And we don't have to talk about it right now either," I told her. "A lot was unloaded tonight, perhaps we can save that conversion for another time."

She turned her head and kissed my palm before sighing heavily. "No, I want to talk about it. If I don't, I'll just stew over everything and be especially grouchy with you. And none of this is your fault."

I pulled her back into my arms and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. "Do you want tea while we talk? Or something stronger?"

"Something stronger. Macallen would be good," she answered, surprising me.

I had become accustomed to the rarity of her drinking little more than the occasional glass of wine, so her request for scotch was something I had yet to encounter. Tea was her usual comfort, and the process of making 'real' tea allowed her the time to work through whatever thoughts she needed to tell me. Not the crazy thoughts — those came easily and often — but the serious thoughts, the ones she felt she needed to clarify, because, unfortunately, her habits were extremely difficult to break.

"You're sure?" I asked and kissed her crown again when she nodded, secretly glad of the idea of scotch. As much as I needed to hear the full story of her and Charlie, I was certain I wouldn't enjoy it. I'd been audience to the sound show, and my enjoyment of that had been zero. "Macallan it is then."

She looked up at me. Her tears had all but dried up and only the red rims of her eyes remained. "How calm was your life a year ago?"

"Too calm," I told her. "And boring. I was in a terrible rut."

"I'm sure that's not true." She sighed again and gave me a lopsided smile, "What a mess."

"Nothing some Macallan and a chat won't fix," I assured her, running my hands up and down her arms.

She nodded. "Can you give me a minute?"

"Of course. Take whatever time you need."

She lifted her hands to my face and stood up on her toes to kiss me. "I love you, you know that, right?"

"I do know." I returned her kiss, "and I love you."

Hermione nodded again then stepped out of my embrace. I watched, with no small amount of concern, as she headed for the bedroom.

Holding my temper for just a moment more to ensure she was out of earshot, I swore.

"Fucking piece of shit," I muttered quietly, moving towards the small bar at the end of the kitchen island, and letting out a heavy breath. I poured two glasses, swallowed one completely, then refilled it, cursing again.

My assumption that he was still in love with her had obviously been correct. His deception to retain his place in her bed had shocked me almost as much as it had Hermione. And completely dissolved any respect I had for him at the same time.

But, I couldn't let my anger control me. Not tonight. Not when she wanted to finally tell me what had transpired between them.

I gripped the back of my neck, twisting it slowly from side to side. The pain still lingered but it had dulled considerably.

"Lucius? Is your neck hurting?"

"Far less than it has been," I answered, smiling at the sight before me. Her crazy curls were free from the hair tie that had held them from her face, and she'd changed into the Rolling Stones t-shirt. She looked adorable, and comfortable, and slightly nervous.

I held up the second glass and she took it, taking a sip before moving over to the sofa. She curled her legs beneath her and I squeezed her knee as I deposited the bottle on the table and sat beside her.

"We really don't have to talk about this tonight," I said. "And you can be as grouchy at me as you like."

"And I appreciate that." She clinked her glass against mine and took another sip. "But, I need to tell you. And since I doubt I'll ever be friends with him again, it's now safe to do so."

"Safe?" I asked, frowning.

"I think I was protecting you both." She shrugged, "I mean, I guess you heard some of what happened, and I know I've given you the abridged version, but maybe subconsciously I didn't want to tell you everything and have you go after Charlie." She laughed a single, bitter ha. "I guess I was wrong about that too."

I reached over and ran my hand along her thigh. "I don't think anyone would have predicted Charlie punching me. I sensed his feelings for you, but I never imagined that outcome."

Nodding, she stared down at her drink, swirling the liquid in the glass, before drinking it down in one go. Still staring down at her now empty glass, she began her story.

"When the boys chased Thomas down and threatened his life after he hit me, I thought it was all over. I was so angry at him, I thought I'd be alright. I thought I would live in my parents house and dance every day, and that would be it. That would be my life. But, a few days after it all happened, panic like I have never known took over, and I couldn't be in the house on my own."

Hermione leaned over to place the empty glass on the side table. For a few seconds, she watched my hand slide along her thigh, and I hoped she took the gesture only for how it was meant: as a comfort. This was a difficult topic, made even more so by Charlie's decision to withhold his feelings from her.

"Take all the time you need," I told her, repeating my earlier words.

She breathed deeply and let her head loll against the back of the sofa.

"Harry offered for me to stay in his house, but I couldn't live in London. I was so messed up, just the thought of being in the same city as Thomas made me so anxious I wanted to vomit." She stopped my hand moving on her thigh, holding it between both of hers and running her thumb across the ring she'd given me. "Molly and Arthur didn't hesitate to take me in. The commute every day was an hour each way, but being out of the city was what I needed. I slowly began to feel better, and after a year I was confident enough to move back to London."

I'd pieced together most of this part of her story from the snippets she'd told me. I didn't interrupt though. If repeating her story a million times helped her to heal, I would listen every time.

"I sold my parents house, and moved into the smaller flat, and slowly my life became easier. I loved the safety of having other flats around me, but I missed having a garden. So Charlie helped me find this place. And while some of the neighbours were a bit mad, they all looked out for me, and I felt like I was finally able to breathe again."

She stared over my shoulder at the night sky, frowning.

"Charlie initiated our arrangement." She looked back at me. "It makes more sense now, I suppose. He started making comments about how he, and all my friends, would have approval rights over anyone I started seeing… when I was ready of course." She rolled her eyes and I was certain she was about to belittle herself again.

"Don't say you're stupid," I said, my anger simmering once more. "You were just as vulnerable when he was asking that as you were when you lost your parents. Charlie would have known that, and yet he still took advantage."

She thought about it and nodded. "Yeah, but I consented to it."

"You did, but I'm assuming that consent came with conditions."

She nodded again. "It did. But… anyway, Charlie walked me home one Saturday night after Pansy, Ginny, and I had been at his pub. He… I guess it wasn't a proposition, he just told me if I ever wanted to feel safe with a man again, he'd be happy to help me out. I thought he was kidding, but realised quickly that he wasn't. I didn't invite him in that night. I was too embarrassed. I just told him I'd think about it." She sighed heavily, "He didn't push me about it, but I guess his ploy worked, because he got into my head and I began to think it was a good idea. Someone safe, who I trusted, and — I thought — wanted nothing more than to help me out.

"When I did ask if he was serious, I explained that I wasn't interested in him in any way that was romantic, and that I had no feelings other than him being someone I could trust. He told me he just wanted me to trust men again, that he felt nothing romantic towards me either. And he said if I found someone new, he'd happily step aside. The first time we were together was awkward and uncomfortable, and it was a few weeks before I asked if we could try again. It became easier and we found a rhythm, and yes, I definitely began to believe I could be with a man again. We would talk afterwards, but I never let him sleep in my bed. He always left. And I always assumed he was fine with what we were doing. He was lying the whole time, I guess."

I put my glass on the side table and pulled her towards me. She sucked in several shuddering breaths and climbed over my lap, burying her face in my neck. I wrapped my arms around her and we sat quietly for a few moments.

"Did I lead him on?" she whispered. "Was this my fault?"

"No," I answered, rubbing a hand up and down her back. "You set clear boundaries, and he agreed to those boundaries. He said wanted you to trust men again, and he did the opposite. He should have been honest with you, no matter what that meant for your situation. He was thinking only of himself instead of honouring the promise he made to you."

She was silent again but nodded against my shoulder.

"I'm sorry all of this happened to you." I spoke quietly, turning my head to press my lips against her forehead. "But I promise you this: I will never be dishonest with you, and I will never, ever expect anything from you more than what we have right now. This ball of craziness that you and I have together is all I want. Because I love you exactly how you are."

She sighed again, but this time it felt calmer. Her body relaxed against me, and I gently held her hand over my heart, the gesture meaning more than any words could ever say.

My heart was hers.

And I would be loyal only to her until my last breath.

A/N

Please accept my most humble apologies for the tardiness in adding to this fic. I have had several health issues since the middle of December 2022 and writing has been the last thing on my mind.
I'll try my best to add the remaining chapters more frequently, but I ask that you please be patient. I promise this fic has not been abandoned, and will be completed.