As soon as they Apparated back to Malfoy Manor, Hermione deposited the dripping veil on the dining table, eager to divest herself of it. Her heart was stinging sharply with jealousy; bitter, unrelenting jealousy over the way Draco had dashed into a burning building to rescue his wedding rings with Aurelia, but had shown nothing but defensiveness and almost patronising concern over their own. Hermione could've hit herself for not realising immediately what the box contained, after all he had told her at the Annual Ministry Ball that Aurelia's keepsakes were in a box for Julius. Perhaps that was why he was so eager to retrieve them, she told herself firmly, desperately wanting to believe it.
The perpetrator of her resentful speculation stood silently, numbly watching Hermione, his brain still struggling to cope with the events of the past hour. The fireplace behind them blazed emerald, and Harry clambered out, followed by Blaise.
"Oh good you're here Harry," Hermione exclaimed as soon as she saw him. "How did you hear about it so quickly?"
Harry gave her an odd look, as Ron climbed out behind him. "Hear about what?"
The words Hermione had been about to speak died in her throat as she caught sight of the person that climbed out after Ron.
Lucius Malfoy was home.
"Draco," Blaise called out hesitantly, noticing that his friend was still standing with his back to the fireplace.
Draco jerked to attention. He turned around and paled at the sight of his father standing in his dining room. Lucius Malfoy was wearing immaculate robes, probably the ones he had been wearing the day of his arrest, but now they were ill-fitting –revealing just how much weight he had lost in Azkaban; his hair was longer, in desperate need of a haircut, and looked shockingly white against the dark silk of his robes.
Hermione looked between Lucius and Draco hesitantly, unsure of what to do. Both men stood staring at each other, sporting identical expressions of shuttered inscrutability. Another figure climbing out of the Fireplace caught her attention. Hermione gawked as her father stepped out unsteadily, followed closely by Andromeda.
"Daddy?" she whispered, a sudden feeling of dread filling her. He's a muggle, what the hell is he doing in the same room as Lucius?
"Hermione," Herman gave her a wide smile. "Andromeda and I have brought your father-in-law home. Where is Narcissa? We sent an owl ahead of us–"
"What the fuck are you doing in my house Lucius?" spat Draco suddenly, cutting Herman off, as he advanced towards his father, wand drawn.
Lucius tensed, his stoic mask slipping as a flicker of hurt crossed his face. "I've been released from Azkaban."
"Why the fuck would anyone do that?" growled Draco, staring accusingly at Harry, Ron and Blaise while shaking with unsuppressed rage.
"There were two murders in Azkaban today," Harry started feebly, looking awkwardly at his feet. "A guard was killed along with the Death Eater he was guarding. It will be in tomorrow's Prophet."
Draco took another step towards Lucius. "So why free him?" he snarled wildly, his eyes almost manic with rage. "Leave him be, if someone harms him for his actions in the war then it's nothing less than what he deserves."
"Apparently I am not worth the release of death," Lucius informed his son stiffly.
The door to the living room was flung open. Narcissa stood in the doorway, her fingers tightly clutching the frame for support as she drank in the sight of her husband. Narcissa bit down on her lip painfully hard to keep herself from beaming stupidly. It was only the presence of an audience that was preventing her from running across the plush carpet and throwing herself into Lucius' arms. She brought her knuckles to her lips to smother the tiny sob she couldn't prevent escaping, even as her eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill over. A bewildered Julius poked his head out from where he was hiding behind her skirts, intrigued by the unfamiliar man standing in their home.
Narcissa stepped forward, composing herself. "Lucius…" she breathed, as she closed the distance between them.
"I'm home," Lucius announced needlessly, using all his willpower to prevent himself from sweeping her into his arms and holding her close.
"You're really here," Narcissa marvelled, as she reached out cautiously and touched one cheek with her fingertips.
Lucius reached into an inner pocket of his robes and pulled out a glinting garnet hairpin. "I believe this talisman belongs to you. It has been a great comfort to me, but it is with pleasure that I return it to it's rightful owner," he said simply, as he tucked the bejewelled pin into Narcissa's updo.
"How touching," Draco sneered, training his wand at Lucius' throat. "Get the fuck out of my house. Now."
"Draco!" Narcissa upbraided, her eyes glittering with rage. "How dare you speak to your father that way? It was his house long before it was yours. Put your wand away."
Draco firmly ignored his mother. "I said, get out of my house now."
Hermione stepped forward tentatively and laid a gentle hand on Draco's arm. "Please," she implored, as he turned to face her. "Let's discuss this rationally after we've all calmed down."
"Are you defending him Granger? After everything he did to you and your friends?" Draco shouted mutinously, his face set in a fierce scowl.
"Please," Hermione repeated calmly. "Lower your wand."
Draco glared at Lucius with unbridled hate, but capitulated and lowered his wand. "He's not staying here," he hissed, leaving no room for argument.
"Draco…" Narcissa warned.
"Give it a rest mother," Draco spat, his voice full of loathing. "Just because you worship him doesn't mean we all have to. Not anymore."
Narcissa drew herself up to her full height and trained her wand at Draco in one fluid movement. "Mind your manners, Son," she said furiously. "I did not raise you to speak to your father this way."
Draco sneered derisively. "Protecting him, are you?"
"Yes," said Narcissa arrogantly, her voice strong. "Are you going to raise your wand against me?"
"Daddy, don't!" Julius squeaked from his current refuge behind Hermione's legs, speaking for the first time. "Don't hurt gramma, Daddy."
Draco jerked his wand upwards, catching Narcissa's and sending it spinning above their heads. Her wand clattered to the floor at their feet, emitting angry emerald sparks in its wake. "If I wanted to attack him Mother, no wand would stop me." He turned on his heel and stalked off in the direction of his study.
Narcissa slumped into a chair. "That went well," she gave a shaky laugh, her voice thick with emotion.
Hermione put an arm around Narcissa. "I'll speak to him. Just give him some time, he's had a pretty rough day."
"We should get going," Herman cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I will see you soon Narcissa. It was a pleasure to meet you Lucius," he trailed off awkwardly, as he offered Lucius his hand. To Hermione's surprise, Lucius shook it firmly, no trace of disgust evident in his aristocratic features.
"Thank you for collecting me," Lucius inclined his head formally.
"Bye Grampa Granger," Julius called out, as he darted out from behind Hermione and hugged Herman tightly.
"Bye Daddy," Hermione hugged her father goodbye tightly.
Herman held his daughter close for a second before releasing her. "Don't forget, we have the barbeque tomorrow. Take care of your family."
Hermione started in surprise as she looked towards Lucius and Narcissa. She realised with a jolt that now Lucius Malfoy, Voldemort's right hand man, was indeed her family. And that somehow, she had to do her best to fix things between Draco Malfoy and his parents. The familiar feeling of having fallen into an alternate dimension swept over her as she belatedly registered the fact that her respectable, dentist father, was standing in the house Voldemort had made headquarters, feet away from the boarded up living room where she had been tortured mercilessly by her husband's aunt. To add to the strangeness, Harry and Ron were standing with her, looking uncomfortable at the private scene they had inadvertently witnessed.
Feeling overwhelmed, she nodded. "I'll do my best, Daddy."
Herman and Andromeda left, followed quickly by Ron who couldn't get out of there fast enough and an apologetic Blaise who had to get back to the Ministry urgently. Only Harry stood there, looking decidedly discomfited as he pretended to be engrossed by the carpeting at his feet.
"Who are you?" Julius finally spoke up, staring at Lucius with unguarded interest.
Lucius knelt down with some difficulty. "I am your grandfather," he said formally. "Your father's father," he clarified, catching the slight look of confusion on Julius' face.
"So you're the one daddy calls scum," replied Julius, his small face filled with mystification. "Why does he call you scum? You look clean to me."
"Shall we sit?" Hermione gestured to the seats hurriedly, saving Lucius the awkwardness of answering.
Lucius stiffly walked over to the table, leaning heavily on his cane, and sat next to Narcissa. Harry shuffled across the carpet to sit by Hermione, his face reminiscent of the time Hermione had accidentally walked in on him getting intimate with his own genitalia during the Horcrux hunt. Hermione took Narcissa's cool hands in hers, as the older woman bowed her head down to hide the tears she couldn't hold back. They sat that way for several minutes, Lucius watching Hermione and Narcissa with guarded interest. Harry helpfully distracted Julius from catching sight of his distraught grandmother by levitating his toy dragon around everyone's heads.
"Thank you dear," Narcissa said finally, as she sniffed delicately into her lace handkerchief and mopped her eyes.
"Err– Hermione, what is that thing doing here?" Harry nodded his head towards the encrusted veil, as he floated the dragon back to Julius.
Hermione flushed. "It's a long story. Why don't we go find Malfoy and then we can tell you? I'm sure he will have calmed down sufficiently by now."
Harry stood quickly. "Sure."
"Excuse us," said Hermione politely, as she and Harry departed rather hastily.
When they entered the study, they found Draco staring morosely out of the window. His face was still stiff with traces of anger, and he was gripping his goblet of Firewhiskey so tightly that his knuckles stood out alarmingly white against the dark liquid. He silently poured Harry and Hermione glasses of Firewhiskey as they sat by his desk, still looking determinedly away from them. Draco continued to look at the storm outside almost indifferently while Hermione filled Harry in on the events at his company; the faint tightening around Draco's mouth being the only indication that he was even registering the conversation. Eventually, after Hermione had described most of the events in as much detail as she could remember –carefully excluding the part about returning for Aurelia's things– Draco turned to Harry.
"Why the fuck is he out?" he asked bitterly, his voice dangerously low.
Harry looked to Hermione for help, who shrugged sheepishly. "Err– Well–" Harry started nervously, surreptitiously filling Draco's glass before he continued. "He was sentenced to six years in Azkaban, as you know. He got off fairly lightly because of your mother's actions during the war. From the six years, he's already served three –nearly four, and he previously served a year after the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries. After five years, he's eligible to have his sentence lightened for good behaviour. On the basis of that, we decided it was best he come home now instead of in a few months time."
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose as she took it all in. "Why were my dad and Andromeda with him?"
"He can only be released to family members," Harry reminded Hermione gently, hiding his surprise at the fact that Hermione was frazzled enough to forget a law. "He didn't want Narcissa to come all the way to Azkaban for him. Said he wouldn't make her step in there ever again if it were up to him."
"What happened at Azkaban?" Draco asked dully.
"Rookwood was murdered," Harry stated flatly. "Along with the guard assigned to his cell."
Hermione was appalled. "Rookwood? But– But– how? Wasn't he a high security prisoner?"
"We don't know how the prison was compromised," said Harry, crumpling his hair. "Everyone is being questioned under Veritaserum. Though, Rookwood was allowed visitors, so it is quite possible that someone he knew killed him."
"But why send Lucius home?" Draco spat sourly.
Harry gave him a sympathetic look, full of understanding. "He's not exactly sent home scot-free, Malfoy. He's under house-arrest and he has an ankle cuff that prevents him from performing any magic."
"Ironic," Draco barked out a harsh laugh, as he downed his drink.
"Look, I know this is a bad time but I have to head back to the Ministry. We're going to be questioning people all night by the looks of it, so I'll probably be back here fairly late –if at all," Harry explained agitatedly. "I might see you both at breakfast tomorrow morning, okay?"
Hermione gave Harry a one-armed hug. "Thanks. Good luck at the Ministry tonight. Let me know if you need someone from MLE to smooth things along."
Harry nodded his thanks and left. Hermione sipped her Firewhiskey, mainly for something to do while Draco glowered at the storm outside. As he moved to refill his glass, Hermione grabbed his wrist firmly. "No," she answered sternly, in response to his questioning look. "You've had enough. Come on, let's go to our room and have some coffee."
Draco's features regressed into a sulky look Hermione hadn't seen since he was thirteen. "No."
"Come," Hermione held her hand to him imperiously, a note of finality in her voice.
"Fine," Draco muttered bad-temperedly, as he slammed his goblet on the table and lurched unsteadily to his feet.
They walked silently to their bedroom, still holding hands. Hermione austerely led Draco to the bed and fussed around with the blankets on his knees, while he sat back against the pillows looking surly. When she was satisfied with her efforts, she rang for two strong coffees and they sipped them quietly for a while, still watching the ballet of shimmering raindrops dancing outside their bedroom windows. When Hermione finished her coffee, she gave Draco a sidelong glance, only to see him gripping his empty cup so tightly that it looked as though he was strangling it. She gently prised the cup from his fingers and set it down next to hers on the bedside table.
"How are you feeling?" she ventured finally.
"Shite," Draco muttered.
Hermione restrained the urge to roll her eyes. "How can I help?"
"Dunno," came the helpful reply.
Monosyllabic prat. "Seriously Malfoy," Hermione reached over and took his surprisingly cold hands in hers. "You're going to extremes. First you get so angry that you almost maim your parents, then you clam up so tightly you don't even bother to respond. You need to find a balance. You need to express what's bothering you without resorting to hexing people."
"I'm sorry," Draco said suddenly, looking ashamed.
Hermione curled up next to him and rested her head on his shoulder. "Don't be sorry, just don't push me away. I want to help."
"Why?" asked Draco miserably, lowering his pale blond head. "I was horrible to you when we were younger and you were basically forced into marrying me. My father did nothing but belittle and hurt you, my mother treated you like dirt before you married me and my crazy aunt tortured you in this very house. Why would you want to help me?"
Hermione placed her slender fingers under his chin and forced him to look at her. "Because I care."
To her shock, Draco's eyes grew watery. She knew, of course, that Draco had been prone to crying in his sixth year, but she had never had to witness it first hand. The sight of tears pooling in his beautiful silvery eyes provoked something previously latent from deep within Hermione. She cupped his cheek in her palm, feeling his muscles clench with the effort of keeping down the emotion.
"I need you," said Draco hoarsely, before he leaned in and kissed her.
Just like their previous kiss, this one was full of frenzied intensity. Hermione was vaguely aware of being pushed back into the pillows as Draco rolled on top of her, kissing her as though she would disappear any second if he stopped. Hermione could feel his body heat through their damp clothes, filling her body with a slow, agonising burn. Her toes curled with anticipation as his hot mouth pressed lingering fiery kisses into her neck, making her eyes glaze over with lust.
"Take these off," Hermione commanded, as she tugged at his damp robes.
Draco gave her a slow, sexy smile that made her heart skip a beat. "Yes ma'am," he whispered huskily, as he pulled his robes off.
Hermione trailed kisses down his shoulders and bare chest, her hands exploring his taut stomach muscles. Draco ran his hands lightly over her silky legs, revelling in their smoothness. His hand slipped under her robes and glided over her stomach to cup her breasts. Hermione arched her back as she delicately nibbled at the sensitive part where his neck met his shoulders, eliciting a growl from him.
"You are wearing entirely too much clothing," Draco murmured against her cool earlobe.
Hermione flashed him a brazen look from under her lashes. "What are you going to do about it?" she countered.
"Minx," Draco grinned, as he grasped the hem of her robes and pulled them over her head smoothly. He tossed them carelessly over one shoulder, never taking his eyes off her scantily clad body beneath him. The pale-gold silk lingerie that she wore made her skin look creamy, and he drank in the sight of her, committing it to memory. He'd seen naked women before, but the stark realisation that it was Hermione sprawled underneath him sent a shock of lust coursing through his veins.
"Are you just going to stare?" Hermione asked, in frustration, aching to feel his hands on her.
Draco gave her a hum of approval as he trailed one pale finger down her flat abdomen. He reached behind her and unfastened her bra, letting the straps caress her arms as he slid it off her with excruciating slowness. Hermione moaned as the cool air hit her nipples, instantly forcing them into twin peaks. Draco lowered his head and took one sensitive nipple in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and gently grazing his teeth against it in a way that made liquid heat pool between Hermione's thighs. He traced the other nipple with his fingertip, his hands slowly brushing along the undersides of her breasts.
Hermione hooked a finger on either side of his hipbones and carefully tugged his dark silk boxers down. She bit her lip at the size of him, knowing that it would be a tight fit. His pale penis stood proudly erect, the dim lighting making him look almost like a marble Adonis hovering over her. The thatches of blond curls surrounding his stiff member were so pale and fine that they were almost invisible.
Draco gave her an amused look, unashamed by her appraisal. "Are you just going to stare?"
She reached out and tentatively took him in her hands. He felt hot, heavy and silky; throbbing faintly as she slowly pumped her fist. Draco moaned as he threw his head back with a hiss of pleasure. He fumbled for her underwear and firmly pulled it off her slim legs. Seconds later, it joined her robes on the floor. To Draco's surprise, the trimmed hair he had felt the previous day was all gone, leaving her sinfully bare and vulnerable under his heated gaze.
"Merlin Granger," he breathed, as he kissed his way downwards from her hipbone. "You are so sexy right now."
Hermione guided his cock close to her entrance as she shyly spread her legs to allow him access. Draco took his pulsating penis in his hands as he teasingly slid the head up and down her slit, letting her silky juices make him slick against her. Hermione groaned as he started to massage circles into her clit with his engorged head, frequently slipping down to her slit but never plunging in.
"Tease…" she breathed, as she dug her nails into his back.
"You don't like being made to beg for it?" Draco asked, mock-innocently, as if it was a great revelation to him.
Hermione hooked her legs behind his back and pulled him closer to her heated body. "Would you like it if I made you beg?"
"Malfoys don't beg," came the instant reply.
She arched her pelvis, coming scintillatingly close to sheathing him fully. "Well, I'm a Malfoy now, so…" she trailed off as he sucked on a nipple, causing gooseflesh to break out all over her body. She felt him tremble slightly as he positioned his cock just outside her entrance. His eyes searched hers carefully, as if to make sure she knew what she wanted.
"Are you okay?" Hermione whispered, as his thighs now started to tremble violently.
"Nerves," Draco bit out tersely.
An odd feeling swept through her as she saw the vulnerability in her husband's eyes. For the first time since she had known him, Hermione stopped fearing that he would revert back to his former self and crush her heart. She pulled him in for another heady kiss, gently tugging on his balls and causing him to moan into her mouth. Buoyed by her eagerness, the trembling stopped.
"Draco..." Hermione moaned, as he skilfully flicked his thumb over her clit.
"I'm going to have to do something about you using my name like that," Draco said silkily, as he expertly brought her close to orgasm. "It's utterly dangerous coming from that sexy mouth of yours."
Hermione arched her back, losing herself in a haze of pleasure. "I want you to be inside me when I come."
"Are you sure Hermione?" Draco stopped his ministrations and gave her a few seconds to compose herself.
"Seriously Malfoy," Hermione groaned, through laboured breaths. "Just fuck me already."
Draco smirked and gave her a sarcastic salute. "Yes ma'am," he mumbled into her mouth, as their tongues swirled together. Draco carefully slid himself inside her hot wetness, relishing the feel of her tight muscles massaging his cock. His eyes widened as he sank into her and his head whirled with excitement: it was finally happening. He moaned loudly as he entered her entirely, savouring the experience. A thrill ran through Hermione as she finally felt him fully sheathed inside her, filling her completely.
"Merlin Granger," he moaned, as he slowly pulled himself back out. "You're so fucking tight. Are you sure you're not a virgin?"
"Pretty sure," Hermione replied flippantly, as she thrust her pelvis up to meet him just before he entered her again.
Draco arched his back and groaned. "You will be the death of me, witch," he growled throatily, as he increased the pace of his thrusts. Hermione tightened the hold her legs had on his back and crossed her ankles together, giving her the leverage to match his pace thrust for thrust. "I'm not going to last long," Draco warned, as he slammed into her.
"Fine by me," moaned Hermione, as his clever fingers found her clit again.
Draco managed to hold out until Hermione was convulsing around him. The rhythmic clenching and loosening of her muscles as she rode out her orgasm sent him over the edge, and he came with a low growl as he pumped deeply inside of her. He slumped on top of her, panting, still careful to keep most of his weight on his arms. He waited until Hermione had recovered before he slowly pulled out of her warmth. The last thing he remembered was Hermione's non-verbal Cleansing charm washing over them, before he fell into a deep sleep, holding her close to his chest.
They awoke the next day to a concerned Narcissa knocking on their door. Hermione groaned as she struggled to free herself from the weight of half of Draco's body thrown on top of her. She cracked an eye open and promptly closed it again. Sunshine was spilling into every crevice of the room, lighting it up in shades of gold. The knock sounded again, more insistent this time.
"Draco?" Narcissa called out. "Are you and Hermione okay? Aren't you meant to be at Herman's in an hour?"
Hermione sat up straight at that. "We're fine Narcissa," she called out, trying to sound breezy. "We just overslept. We had a pretty tiring day yesterday." It probably didn't help that we woke up at three in the morning to shag again.
"If you're sure dear," Narcissa called out doubtfully as she left.
Hermione shook Draco roughly. "Malfoy," she hissed. "We're meant to be at my father's in an hour. Wake up."
Draco opened his eyes blearily. "I'm awake."
"We need to get dressed quickly. Your mother is already wondering where the hell we've been all morning," Hermione flung herself out of bed and haphazardly raced to the cupboard. She quickly selected a light cotton sundress to wear and dashed to the bathroom. By the time she'd taken a bath, Draco had managed to rouse himself and was looking through his sparse selection of muggle clothing –all bought entirely for visits to Herman– with a dubious expression on his face.
"Here," Hermione thrust a pair of jeans and a plain white shirt at him. "Wear this. Hurry."
They walked through to the dining room fifteen minutes later, where Lucius, Narcissa and Julius were sitting down to lunch. Draco tensed as he caught sight of his father, but a sharp squeeze from Hermione stopped him from making any untoward comments. Harry was nowhere to be seen, which led Hermione to surmise that he was at the Ministry.
"Why do you have long hair Grampa Malfoy?" Julius asked, as he reached out to tug on it. "Are you a girl?"
Lucius looked slightly affronted. "No little man, I am most certainly not."
Julius regarded Lucius in puzzlement. "Why do you have a ribbon in your hair then? Do you want to be a girl?"
"The ribbon is to tie it back Juls," Narcissa answered patiently, trying to hide her smile.
"Good afternoon Narcissa, Mr Malfoy," Hermione said politely. "We're just passing through I'm afraid, we're running a bit late."
"Mother," Draco nodded, pointedly ignoring Lucius.
Narcissa looked at them carefully. "Give Herman my love."
Hermione agreed, catching sight of the food Lucius was spooning into his bowl. Rabbit stew. Why am I not surprised that Lucius Malfoy eats bunnies for lunch?
The last thing Draco heard, before Hermione ushered him into the fireplace, was Julius squealing excitedly. "Can I wear ribbons in my hair too? Just like you, Grampa Malfoy."
They Apparated into a deserted alleyway down the road from Herman's house, Draco still fuming about Julius' parting remark. He seethed the entire walk to the apartment and knocked on the door with such ferocity that he startled the elderly cocker spaniel lounging in the yard.
"Honestly Malfoy," Hermione rolled her eyes and leaned over to give him a quick kiss. "Just relax. We're here to have fun."
Herman opened the door, beaming. The next half hour passed in introductions, as Draco met more of Hermione's relatives than he had ever wanted to meet. Feeling slightly unnerved by the sheer number of muggles around him, he quickly accepted the beer Herman offered and took long sips to buy himself time whenever he was asked a question. Draco found himself being dragged to the backyard where the men stood around a metal contraption that looked as though it were comprised almost entirely of bars. The men knowledgeably prodded the meat that sizzled on it, taking turns to flip the patties. When Draco snuck a peek through the glass doors, Hermione was deep in conversation with two girls that looked to be about her age. All three of them were gesticulating wildly as they collapsed into giggles.
"So Draco," one of Hermione's uncles clapped a hand on Draco's back. "What do you do?"
Herman quickly intervened, catching Draco's hesitation. "He's in pharmaceuticals, Alan. Makes all sorts of medications."
"Research?" Alan asked, interestedly.
Draco nodded along, hoping that whatever pharmaceuticals were was close to his actual job. "I used to do a bit of that initially, researching on different ingredients and how they interact with the body. Ever since I set up my company though, I've been doing more administrative things. At the moment I make sure that the public is aware of our products and work out deals with Apothecaries."
Alan wrinkled his nose in confusion. "Apothecaries?"
"Alternative medicine," Herman put in smoothly.
This led to a long conversation on biotechnology that Draco could barely follow, but Herman and Alan were extremely interested in. When another one of Hermione's uncles announced that lunch was all set, Draco was ready to bolt into the house and cling to Hermione's side. He stepped inside the cool dining room, wondering idly how muggles managed to keep their houses cool without Cooling charms, and lingered by the pictures of Hermione on display. Draco had –by now– seen enough muggle pictures to know that they didn't move, but he was always intrigued by their novelty whenever he clapped his eyes on one. He saw a picture of Hermione, barely a year old, limbs puffed with baby fat and a fluffy ball of curls around her chubby face. She was reaching indignantly for a book, open to a page with lots of pictures, that was placed just out of her reach. Draco grinned and flicked his gaze over the other photos from family holidays, his eyes eventually settling on one of Hermione and himself at their wedding, that had obviously been taken by Herman during their vows.
"She looked lovely on her wedding day, didn't she?"
Draco turned to see one of the girls Hermione had been talking to earlier. "That she did," Draco agreed cordially.
"I'm Amelia," she held out her hand politely. "I'm Hermione's second cousin. I think you've met my father –Alan?"
"Oh yes, just then," Draco nodded, pleased to be putting the pieces of her family together. "I'm Draco. Were you and Gr– Hermione close when you were growing up?"
"Close enough," Amelia shrugged. "I didn't see her much after she went to the fancy boarding school of hers, just every other year during the summer hols. I heard that's where you and Hermione met?"
Draco cracked a smile. "Yes, but we hated each other back then. We only got to know each other properly after the wa– school," he hastily amended. "She slapped me once when we were younger."
"I heard about that," Amelia laughed. "Hermione was so proud to have one-upped you. Even back then, I remember thinking, 'those two totally like each other'. I suggested it to her when she told me and she was horrified–"
"I would've been too," Draco commented, grinning at the thought of a teenaged Hermione's reaction to that statement.
Amelia huffed good-naturedly. "Well, I was right, wasn't I?"
They took their seats at the large dining table as the men set up the food. Hermione slid into the seat next to Draco and squeezed his thigh with a wink. "Having fun?" she leaned over and whispered.
"I'll have more fun when I can rip that pretty little dress off you," Draco whispered back.
Hermione coloured prettily and busied herself with passing the bread rolls to hide her flaming cheeks. Draco found that he was suddenly famished, especially after the previous night's activities, and enjoyed the barbequed meat immensely. He didn't participate much in the conversations around him, letting them wash over him like a pleasant breeze. Once their empty plates were cleared away, everyone lounged around the living room drinking beer and chatting avidly. Herman caught Draco's eye and grinned as he placed a dark, circular object with an inexplicable hole through the middle, into a bizarre contraption that Draco couldn't puzzle out for the life of him. A second later, music was heard.
"Typical dad," Hermione muttered, shaking her head with an indulgent smile. "Three beers and he breaks out the vinyls."
"Nothing wrong with a bit of Elvis, eh?" Herman winked at them as he sauntered back towards the kitchen.
The song that followed filled Draco up with a warmth that he had only experienced with Firewhiskey. The singer's deep voice resonated through the room, making the table vibrate slightly. The lyrics of the song caught Draco's attention, the slow, easy tune of the song lulling him into agreeable comfort. He looked down at his and Hermione's interlinked hands, feeling completely in harmony with the singer's feelings. He glanced at Hermione, mesmerised by the way the sunlight hit her curls, making them look as though they were on fire. He picked out natural blonde and even slightly copper highlights mingled amongst the brown, and he wondered how he had never realised before just how utterly beautiful his wife was.
He almost spat out the gulp of beer he had just inadvertently drunk when he found himself mentally agreeing with the singer, who declared that even though only fools rushed in, he couldn't help falling in love.
Draco felt panic course through his veins, chilling him right down to his muggle shoes.
He was in love with Hermione Granger.
Hermione extricated herself from the sweat soaked tangle of bed sheets that had wound their way around her bare legs. She'd had to almost pry Draco away from Herman's couch, where he had been captivated by the flickering images of the television for nearly two hours. Once the barbeque had dwindled down, she had insisted on doing the clean-up by magic while Herman had talked Draco into watching a football game with him. When Hermione had emerged from the kitchen, she had almost had to do a double-take at the sight of her husband and her father drinking beers while watching the telly. It had only been the reminder that they had to tuck Julius into bed that had finally convinced Draco to leave. As always, Herman had been sorry to see them go and they had dutifully promised to drop by again.
By the time they had tucked Julius in and read him the obligatory bedtime story, Harry had stumbled back to the Manor looking pale and shaky. His nightmares had returned with full force, and coupled with his hellish working hours, he had barely managed any restful sleep. In spite of being quite full from the barbeque, Draco had tactfully suggested they partake in supper, if only to ensure a clearly hungry Harry didn't feel awkward or hesitant to trouble them for a meal. Though Hermione suspected that Draco's intentions had been two-fold when they ended up eating in the guest suites –an area Lucius would be unlikely to walk past.
During supper, Harry had revealed that they had finally approved of the blood-tracking for Vaisey and that Draco's office was to be examined on Monday morning. Harry had looked so weary and fatigued that Draco had immediately insisted that Hermione stay the night with him, partially for Harry's sake and partially because he needed some distance after his disconcerting realisation earlier that day. Hermione had been slightly surprised, but had pleasantly agreed, which had led her to just then: waking up at almost two in the morning, hopelessly swaddled in bed sheets soaked in her best friend's sweat. Watching him toss and turn restlessly, it was obvious what the disturbance was that had awoken her. With a small, inaudible sigh, Hermione non-verbally Summoned the map Draco had given her when she'd first arrived at the Manor and set off to find her way into the kitchens. A Dreamless Sleep potion along with a stronger Calming Draught mixed into some warm milk might help Harry where her presence –and a mild Calming Draught– had failed.
Hermione effortlessly navigated the twisting corridors, adamant on not waking the elves. She arrived at the kitchens and after some searching –and Summoning charms– located the cups, milk and stocks of household potions. Just as she was about to warm the milk, Hermione's sharp ears picked up on a faint shuffling sound outside the kitchens. Heart hammering, she threw open the door and raised her wand.
Lucius Malfoy stood there, clearly dressed for bed, his hands raised upwards in surrender. "I'm unarmed Miss Granger," he mumbled quietly, regarding her with unease.
Hermione lowered her wand, embarrassed. "I apologise, Mr Malfoy. What are you doing down here at this hour?"
"I couldn't sleep," drawled Lucius, raising a haughty eyebrow. "I want tea."
"You didn't call an elf?" Hermione frowned.
Lucius sighed in annoyance, possibly at her presumptuousness to enquire after his presence in hisManor. "Narcissa was asleep, I did not wish to wake her. Nor did I wish to wake Julius, whose bedroom is adjoining ours, by calling for an elf in the corridor."
Hermione looked at him curiously. "Why not go to the drawing room? Or the dining room? I'm surprised you came directly to the kitchens."
"I'm not certain where they are," admitted Lucius stiffly. "The Manor has been unrecognisably remodelled following certain… events. Ordinarily, I would have adjourned to my study, but Draco seems to have made it his own while I've been away. I happened upon the kitchens purely by accident, and had you not come outside, I would've walked straight past them."
"I'm sorry," Hermione drew back suddenly, realising her rudeness. "I was making some warm milk myself, shall I prepare some tea? The elves didn't retire too long ago so I figured I would let them get some rest."
"You would make me tea?" Lucius looked startled.
Hermione shrugged. "Why not? I'm not going to spike it in any way, it's just that preparing tea without your wand will be a challenge."
"No, no," Lucius hastily assured. "I was just taken aback. If it would not be too much of a bother, I would love some tea."
"Narcissa is pleased to have you back," Hermione commented, as she Summoned a cup, tea leaves, the mesh infuser and more milk. She placed a low level Warming charm on both cups of milk and set the water to boil.
"I'm equally pleased with her presence," Lucius replied formally.
Hermione carefully spooned tea leaves into the infuser and allowed it to steep in the boiling water. She could tell that Lucius was less than pleased about having to rely on her for something as simple as tea, and also that despite his defensive arrogance, his cold grey eyes had the haunted look of low self confidence. He was no longer the powerful Death Eater that had battled her in the Department of Mysteries, he was a man that had been broken by Azkaban; a man left impotent by having his magic sapped from him, leaving him not unlike the muggles he had been raised to hate. It must've been a humbling moment for him, having to rely on a muggle-born witch to perform magic while he stood there unable to so much as perform a Summoning charm.
"Sugar?" Hermione broke into his thoughts.
"Two lumps," said Lucius. "Please," he added as an afterthought.
"There you go," Hermione handed him the tea with a small smile of acknowledgement. "Would you like me to mix a Dreamless sleep potion in it? Or a mild Calming Draught?"
"No need for that," Lucius declined politely, his mouth nearly watering at the sensual fragrance of the tea. Unable to wait any longer, he took a deep sip, savouring every drop of the rich flavour. "It's delicious," he said humbly, as he took another intoxicating sip, leaning carefully against the kitchen door.
Hermione gave him a genuine smile. "I'm glad."
Lucius hesitated for several seconds before he managed to formulate the words. "May I trouble you for a slice of bread?"
"It's no trouble," said Hermione instantly, recognising the internal struggle. "Just a slice of bread? Won't you rather a light sandwich?"
"I do not wish to inconvenience you," said Lucius in measured tones, even as his eyes lit up.
"Again, Mr Malfoy, it's no trouble. If it will make you feel better, I'll have one too," Hermione offered, suppressing a smile. She'd always privately wondered what Narcissa saw in someone like Lucius, but within minutes she'd gone from almost hexing him to warming up to him. Lucius was clearly able to be courteous when he wanted to be.
Lucius nodded impassively. "I believe I must thank you, Miss Granger."
Hermione waited to see if the aforementioned thanks were forthcoming, but Lucius continued to drink his tea with an unfathomable expression on his face. Hermione could tell that behind his impenetrable grey eyes, so similar and yet so different to Draco's, was private distress over the humiliation he was currently being subjected to. They sat at the small kitchen table in silence, eating the ham sandwiches Hermione had swiftly whipped up. To Hermione's surprise, Lucius devoured the sandwiches eagerly and eventually thanked her in a tone that could pass for grateful. As they made to leave, Hermione pressed the map into Lucius' unwilling hands.
"Take it," she ordered. "I'm pretty certain of the way back to my rooms."
"Only on the condition that you permit me to see you safely to your marital rooms," Lucius conceded. "Draco has enough cause to be displeased with me for several lifetimes, I do not wish for him to add another."
Hermione flushed. "If you insist, but I'm staying in the guest suites."
Lucius arched a cool eyebrow. "Spat with my son?"
"No," Hermione replied shortly, as she uncomfortably took his proffered arm.
They had walked for a few minutes in strained silence when Lucius turned towards her again. "Narcissa is very fond of you."
"And I of her," Hermione responded, matching his formal tones.
"She has high hopes that your marriage with Draco become a loving one," said Lucius frankly, as they climbed their way to the guest suites.
The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could censor them. "We're on our way to that."
"Oh?"
Hermione nodded, unsure of what else to say. "Draco is a caring husband," she managed awkwardly.
"Do you love my son?" Lucius questioned imperiously, as they approached the guest suites.
"Thank you for walking me here," said Hermione, deliberately evading his question. "I'll bid you goodnight."
She swept into the guest suites, still clutching Harry's milk, and leaned against the closed door. Lucius' query had unnerved her more than she cared to admit, even to herself, and she found her mind replaying his question over and over again.
Did she love Draco?
A/n: Thank you SO much for all the reviews I got on my last chapter! I've never had that many before! Sorry that this update took so long, I went over it about a million times before I was satisfied with it.
In case any of you were wondering, the song Draco listens to is Can't Help Falling In Love by Elvis.
Hope you all enjoyed this chapter and the much awaited smut. I couldn't help dropping a tiny hint in the chapter name ;)
As always, reviews make me smile!