Author's Note: This is intended as an interlude, to transition the story from part 1 to part 2. Don't assume anything. ;) Thanks for the reviews, as always, and I love to hear from you!

The healers said that Draco was lucky. They had finally gotten the results of the poison analysis. It was a very intentional combination of arsenic and woodruff diluted in snake venom. Whoever had administered it really wanted him dead. Any of the three ingredients could have been enough to kill him; the arsenic would cause organ failure, the woodruff, which muggles knew as coumarin, would make him bleed to death, and the snake venom would shut down his nervous system. It was amazing that he'd been able to stand, much less apparate. The healers weren't kidding when they said a few more minutes would have been the end of Draco Malfoy.

That was why Lucius was improving more quickly; most of the damage had been to his outside. There were exceptions, of course, the lacerated liver chief among them. He had taken a hell of a beating, the extent of which only he knew, and a near-fatal bout of Cruciatus. However, Draco's very insides had been close to liquefaction. Understandably his system was still in shock and it would be some time before he was himself again.

Lucius had been incensed to discover that his son was in the hospital, too, and even more infuriated when he realized they had kept it from him. Two days after waking, he had stormed down to Draco's room in spite of all their entreaties not to. And he was there still; he had half-persuaded, half-bullied the staff into changing his room. He had not spoken to any of them for a day and a half afterwards.

Curiously, this belligerence put a smile on Narcissa's face that wouldn't fade. Hermione couldn't claim to understand it. She also pretended not to notice when Narcissa's monster ring was suddenly absent. If the woman thought Lucius didn't know, she was a fool – but Hermione was still far from an expert in the relations of Slytherins.

So, as August began she found herself spending her days at St. Mungo's. God help her, she was really beginning to become attached to the Malfoys. They caused a scandal almost daily; today's was aided by Ginny. She snuck Oberon and Titania in and the healers took serious objection to them at first, but when they saw the dogs jump up on Lucius and lick him like it was going out of style, they relaxed. Lucius was currently asleep, snoring quietly with a proud grey dog on either side of him. Ginny and Narcissa were in the cafeteria eating lunch.

"You're going to make me eat that, aren't you," Draco sighed, eyeing the yogurt in her hand.

"Yes. You have to eat or you'll never get your strength back."

Draco sighed. Food was currently his enemy. He had articulated two days ago that eating solid food felt like trying to digest glass. The healers weren't quite sure what to do about it, but it was clear that nutritional potions weren't cutting it. He'd already lost nine pounds and he couldn't lose anymore; he had been skinny to begin with.

Hermione opened the yogurt and set it in front of him. Reluctantly, he took the spoon.

"I am so tired of this hospital," he muttered.

"We all are, I think," she nodded. Her glance traveled to Lucius. He was almost entirely healed. They were only keeping him to make sure his liver function was consistent and because excessive exposure to Cruciatus could sometimes cause seizures. It was day 13, though, and he was seizure-free. If he made it through tomorrow with no ill effects, he would probably be discharged.

Draco frowned, but valiantly began to eat the yogurt. She reflected that through all of this, they hadn't had much time to talk. With Lucius or Narcissa constantly in the room there was no privacy and Draco's energy was so low that he spent half his time asleep. He was awake now, though, and for once the room was silent. Hermione tilted her head to the side and contemplated him.

"You're much quieter than you used to be."

He glanced up and shrugged. "I did an awful lot of talking back in school…without really saying much." That was certainly true; her expression told him how true. He toyed with the yogurt, scooping a blob of it onto the spoon and then letting it drip back into the container. "Since the war I've spent a lot of time thinking about what is worth saying."

Silence lingered between them and he returned to the yogurt. He was eating determinedly, but she could tell that it was already bothering his stomach. Perhaps talking would take his mind off the pain. However, just as she was about to open her mouth, he placed the spoon inside the yogurt container and pushed it away.

"No more or you'll get to watch it come back up."

"No thanks," she said, smiling at his attempt to lighten the mood.

"They have to find a way to fix this," he sighed, swallowing and rubbing his stomach. "I'll lose my mind if I feel this way all the time."

"Is it really that bad?"

He looked away. He, like Lucius, would not want to admit to weakness. Lucius was doing a good job of pretending that he did not hurt but they all knew better. He was sleeping sixteen hours a day; the effort of the charade was so great that it pummeled him into sudden narcolepsy every few hours.

"It's bad," was all Draco said a minute later. He turned onto his side, unconsciously curling up. "Maybe I can sleep it off…"

She touched his arm and it was tense. He was breathing through his mouth a little too quickly. His skin was warm, his heart racing, and a crease appeared between his eyebrows. She recognized the signs of miserable nausea; she'd had enough bouts of stomach flu to know what he was feeling. It never became less awful.

She climbed into the bed next to him, seeking to give him the same unthinking comfort he had offered a week before when his arm snuck around her waist. She placed the hospital's plastic container next to him before snuggling up to his back. It occurred to her that she had done this for Lucius not so long ago. How strange it was to offer comfort to them, two men who never wanted or needed anyone's bloody comfort, and have it accepted. Wordlessly, thanklessly, but acceptance was as good as thanks.

She watched his hand as it worried the blanket, clenching, relaxing, working rhythmically to dispel what he was feeling. That was how he rode it out, willing the nausea away, and thirty minutes later that was how he fell asleep, his lanky body at last relaxed against her.

Hermione was half asleep, pressed against Draco in the hospital bed, when Ginny and Narcissa entered.

"Shh," she heard Narcissa murmur, "they're sleeping."

"How cute!" Ginny exclaimed. "They'd be so annoyed if we took a picture."

"A picture is not a wise idea. Lucius might strike you dead. He's not too enamored of photographers right now."

Ginny laughed. "It's not a picture of him."

"All the same," Narcissa shrugged.

It was a mark of how things had changed, Hermione thought, that Ginny could laugh at a comment that included mention of Lucius killing her, joking or otherwise. It was also a great portent that Narcissa didn't care that a muggleborn was in bed with her son. Perhaps the greatest indicator of all was that Lucius didn't care, either.

The two of them moved around the room quietly. Narcissa woke Lucius and Hermione's ears registered the sound of him stretching.

"I ought to take the dogs," Ginny whispered. "The healers were giving me dirty looks."

"Bugger them," Lucius yawned.

"They're probably hungry, though."

She heard the click of nails as the dogs climbed down from his bed. They shook themselves, ears flopping.

"Don't feed Titania so much," Lucius said. "She's gaining weight."

"Don't you listen to him, Titania," Ginny addressed the dog. "You're beautiful just the way you are."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake." She could practically hear Lucius rolling his eyes.

Narcissa laughed softly at them. A moment later Ginny exited, the dogs in tow. Several minutes passed and Hermione was beginning to drift toward sleep when Narcissa spoke again.

"They're asleep."

"Mm hmm."

Hermione chewed her lip. That was a perfectly normal exchange, she shouldn't read into it…

But a few moments later there were some unidentified shuffling noises and a slight creak. And then – oh yes, that was the sound of two people kissing. Lucius Malfoy and his ex-wife, to be exact. Two scandals in one day; they were outdoing themselves.

Hermione cracked an eye open. Sure enough, Narcissa was on top of him, straddling his lap, and they were joined at the lips. Oh my, now that was a kiss. A kiss of two people who had not been together in far too long, striving to taste one another and relearn what they had missed.

If she moved now, they would realize she was not asleep and stop. She could pretend she hadn't heard or seen them, they would be quick enough to separate, and the entire situation would be diffused. She wouldn't have to sit here and listen to them snog. But in spite of how she felt about adultery, which was less than positive, this seemed different. It seemed like…peacemaking.

And it was going to be more than snogging. Lucius was already peeling her blouse off. "The curtain, Cissa," he murmured huskily. The slim blonde witch flicked her wand and the curtain that separated his side of the room from Draco's unfurled.

Hermione shifted, finding a more comfortable spot next to Draco, who was mercifully and utterly unconscious. Doubtless he would rather gouge his own eyes out than witness his parents' intimacy. She pushed a strand of pale hair aside and kissed his temple. As she did, a soft, feminine sigh drifted through the air. Weren't they going to cast a silencing charm? A throaty growl from Lucius answered. Apparently not.

This changed things. Listening to them would be plain voyeuristic. She could leave. If she was stealthy, they would be too distracted to notice. But what if someone came in? Oh, she was a saint. She deserved a medal. Or maybe she was just a bit kinkier than anyone, including herself, knew.

They were trying to be quiet, she could tell, but the sounds of mouths and lungs and pleasure were impossible to cover. She closed her eyes, knowing exactly what Narcissa was doing to him. Lucky her. This should not be arousing her. Really, it shouldn't. But her fantasy images, so torturous, could not be quelled once they had been generated. There were too many pheromones in the air. If Draco was not so weak…

A vision of him beneath her flashed behind her eyes. Damn it all, she could almost feel his hands on her hips, pressing her down upon the evidence of his need…

The sounds beyond the curtain were not doing anything to cool her down. They were full-on shagging now. Their breath mingled together, quick and paced, and the bed protested with a slight squeak. All was well for a few minutes, and then Lucius's voice rang out, loud and pained.

"Ouch! Ow – Narcissa!"

Draco stirred beside her, but didn't wake. Hermione felt mildly alarmed and hoped Lucius wasn't hurt. People did sometimes manage to injure themselves terrifically during sex.

"What? What did I do?" his ex-wife sounded panicked.

There was a silence. Then he spoke, his voice a little rough, "Nothing. I'm fine. Just…in the future, try not to elbow me in the liver."

Hermione had to bite her lips to contain a giggle.

"I'll have to make it up to you," Narcissa whispered.

"Mmm," he purred. "Please do."

There was no more speech after that. It was indecent how horny this was making her, but she refused to feel shame for it. It wasn't her fault they were behaving like teenagers. Their pace became more frenzied and they knocked something over; it clattered to the floor, but it didn't seem loud in comparison to the overlapping lust-filled moans that sounded a few minutes later. Listening to them finish, gasping and sighing, Hermione finally understood. She understood why Narcissa had been smiling so much, why she had spontaneously slept with Draco three Sundays ago, and, paradoxically, why she and Lucius had backed away from their mutual desire.

Sometimes peacemaking and lovemaking were the same thing – and sometimes they were not.