Wow your reviews are so fantastic! Alesia and zeeksmom, such props for the detailed reviews! I know you aren't missing anything, there are details worth noting for later, and some red herrings because we all know that is required here... :)

This chapter is so long, but I couldn't stand to break it up into two so you get a nice long treat for Mother's Day. I wish I had time to respond individually to reviews, but seriously, they are the best form of motivation ever. I have the day off tomorrow so maybe the next bit will be ready to go sooner than a week between updates. I would like it to be sooner than that but mid-quarter is stressful.

Expect some more bumps for Lucius & Hermione here, and more action in the next chapter. (And not the bedroom kind!) I hope I'm keeping you guessing as to who is involved here. A few people have said they wished there was more exposition about the relationship between Hermione & Lucius, i.e. it took longer for them to get together. Keep reading-I've scattered hints about that which some have picked up on, I expect to keep leaving that trail of breadcrumbs for you throughout. Suffice it to say, I did not find it story-worthy to write such a large exposition for this piece, but that doesn't mean it isn't all in my head.

As always, please let me know what you think! Thank you!


"I am not staying here," Hermione insisted vehemently, ignoring the stares of the entire Magical Research department as she went toe to toe with her husband and boss.

"You were not invited," Lucius said pointedly in a low voice, to which Hermione had an immediate answer.

"He said I was not to be excluded."

"Yes, but it was perfectly clear what he meant," Lucius hissed, his grip on his temper slipping in a rare expression of pique. No one in the room missed it, and they all hurried to appear busy with anything else as he swept his cold glare around the room.

"Then he should have said what he meant," Hermione hissed back, equally annoyed.

"Fine." Lucius' teeth were clenched and he didn't stop to wait politely for his wife, sweeping off toward the elevators. This was not missed either, and Hermione gritted her own teeth and followed him, determined not to be swept aside. They both stood poker stiff in the lift as it lurched backward and then up, the rustle of interdepartmental memos overhead and the throat clearing of a few other passengers the only noise that was heard until they finally reached the first level.

"Minister of Magic," the elevator intoned, and Hermione followed Lucius again, his long strides eating up the tiles at a pace that forced her to hurry her steps. When they arrived at Kingsley's office, she was somewhat flushed from rushing, while Lucius looked as composed as ever. Muttering under her breath, she at least appreciated that Lucius displayed gentlemanly courtesy by opening the door to Kingsley's private conference room for her before he followed her in. Pius Thicknesse and Kingsley were already present, deep in conversation.

"Ah, Lucius, Hermione. How pleasant to see you. I trust your honeymoon was delightful?"

"Perfectly so, thank you," Lucius said at same time that Hermione said, "It was lovely."

"Excellent." Kingsley gestured to the seats at the small table, and Pius nodded his head politely to both of them. "Let's get started then. Now, about your work, Hermione…there is some question of whether your research is perhaps becoming a bit too much of an ashwinder egg to remain in the Magical Research Division."

"Are you proposing that I stop my work entirely?" Hermione asked, preempting Lucius who had opened his mouth to speak.

"Certainly not," Pius interjected smoothly. "But the attacks on your person and attempted thefts of your results suggest that a greater rigor of security is required."

Lucius did not miss the plural in Pius' sentence. "What other attack on her results has commenced? Or were the security precautions undertaken recently breached?"

"I am dealing with the matter with Yaxley," Kingsley interrupted, holding his hand up before Lucius could pursue the subject further. "The fact remains that with a suspected leak in your department, it might be better to move the entire work under the DMM."

"And let the person or persons responsible for leaking information slip away without consequence, leaving us no other trails to follow," Lucius replied quickly. "That is not exactly the best path forward to uncovering whoever is behind all of this, nor will it inspire confidence in your handling of this affair."

"There is the matter of a breach of the regulations governing employee conduct," Pius smirked. "It's hardly appropriate for your wife to report you, and everyone knows it."

"I was under the impression you were still head of the DMM, Pius. Do let me congratulate you on your move to the Head of HR." Lucius' tone was subtly snide and mocking, but he didn't let it rest there. "Besides, with all of the upcoming arranged marriages under Ministry orders, I don't doubt that such policies are even now being extensively reworked?"

A simply quirked eyebrow and glance in Kingsley's direction confirmed that such endeavors were already in process, and Lucius looked back to Pius calmly. "As you see, it is not a problem."

Hermione, while fascinated at this insight into the interplay and wrangling that occurred all the time between department heads, was anxious to settle the matter of her work so she could get back to it. "Kingsley, we have all of the equipment and research already underway in Magical Research. To move everything would ruin all results with the lab animals and set us back by at least several months. It is simply not possible to pick and choose our location, nor treat an entire division's worth of workers as if they were chess pieces. The game is already well underway, and it must be completed on the board as set."

"What do you propose, Miss Gran—er, Mrs. Malfoy? To ward the entire division, and post Unspeakables at all points of entry?" Pius was clearly being sarcastic, but Hermione pretended that undertone was entirely absent.

"Yes, that would do the trick nicely," she said pleasantly, looking from Thicknesse to Kingsley, carefully avoiding looking at her husband. "Or is the Ministry prepared to admit this has grown beyond its resources and ask for assistance from other countries? I'm sure the Americans would be willing to help…"

Kingsley's eyes gleamed momentarily but it was well banked equally rapidly. "I think we all know that will be unnecessary, won't it, Pius? Between yourself and Underwood I'm sure you have enough qualified personnel to secure the area required."

"The point," Lucius said, not attempting to mask the trace of irritation in his voice, "is that disrupting my wife's work and that of my entire division will not aid you in unmasking the individuals behind these attacks. We still do not know why they are doing this, or how many other countries' citizens may be involved. And without information as to their possible motivations, that makes it exceedingly difficult to derive appropriate security measures."

"I can shed some light on one of those points?" Pius' tone was expressionless as he waited for Kingsley's permission, but Lucius knew from past dealings with the man that he knew something which Yaxley and Underwood did not.

"Proceed with caution," was all Kingsley said, as Lucius privately wondered why Shacklebolt was allowing Hermione to hear all of this. It was certainly not information that he would have shared with her under other circumstances.

Pius turned his attention to Lucius, utterly ignoring Hermione. "We have reason to believe that in addition to a French connection, there are entities from Norway and Germany involved."

"Durmstrang," Hermione breathed, and Kingsley darted a sharp glance to her.

"No one in this room has mentioned that institution, Mrs. Malfoy," Kingsley said sharply, and Hermione shut her mouth, although clearly the wheels were still turning in her head. Lucius mentally cursed his transparent wife and casually filed away Pius' reaction to Hermione's outburst.

"Back to the issue of security: what would assist Pius in ascertaining the best path forward would be a more detailed understanding of exactly what you are working on now, Lucius and Hermione. I am aware of your nearly obsessive tendencies toward secrecy—" here his eyes flashed to Lucius—"but this problem requires more than two people to be intimately aware of the details of your work."

"And in case one of us dies," Lucius drawled, spelling out the implications quite clearly. "Yes, I can see how such an event would be terribly inconvenient for you, Kingsley, with so many other countries breathing down your neck."

A cold jolt of icy fear ran down her back, but Hermione didn't allow it to affect her visibly. She knew what it was they were facing already; hearing Lucius say it out loud didn't mean it would happen.

"I would like to know that Pius is bound by the same oath by which you have constrained us." Hermione had no idea if Kingsley had put Lucius under an oath as her husband was obviously not allowed to tell her, but it seemed a logical conclusion.

"Already in force," Kingsley assured her.

"And I want to be brought up to date on everything already known," Hermione added, afraid to look at Lucius who was probably ready to murder her.

"I'll leave that up to Lucius. You have my permission to tell her," Kingsley said clearly, aware that the beginnings of a row had just been started in his office. Hopefully this time they would have the decorum to wait to finish it until they were home at Malfoy Manor. "Now, tell him. All of it."

"To start, I merely wanted to identify a tentative set of magical genes," Hermione began, tentatively meeting Lucius' eyes. He snorted, reminding Hermione forcibly of their first meeting when he was appointed her boss.

"Attempting to precisely characterize just what it is in your blood that makes you special? I'll tell you: absolutely nothing. You are a freak of chance, a random event. Unlike you, I was brought up to know from birth that my talents are special and rare. You will not succeed in reducing them to some scientific formula, parsed and dissected, ready to be duplicated."

Her blood had boiled and she had turned to confront Kingsley. "I don't care who you put in as department head as long it is not this hypocritical, bigoted snake! You can't honestly think that he will truly support my work, let alone attempt to understand it!"

Lucius Malfoy snorted, suppressing a laugh. "That, my dear, is precisely the point. If you can convince me, Kingsley knows the rest of the purebloods will follow along. Do try your best, Granger. I am very much looking forward to the entertainment of making you squirm."

"You wanted to redefine the essence of magic," Lucius said irritatedly, then rolled his eyes and looked away.

"I merely wanted to understand it," Hermione replied forcefully, then returned her attention to Pius Thicknesse. "In trying to identify magical genes, I studied Muggles, Squibs, and obviously magically active wizards and witches. It was while I was studying Squibs that I found a peculiar effect: they seemed to have the magical genes, but they were not magically active."

"Are you telling me that Squibs are not genetically deficient, in a magical sense?" Pius asked. This was something that the three of them had told no one, under Kingsley's demand.

"Technically they are, because they possess another gene—one not found in Muggles nor Wizard. Well, not found in pairs. Wizards and witches can carry the gene, but an individual must possess both copies in order for the individual to be a Squib. This additional gene causes their chromosomes to be remodeled, therefore their magical genes are rendered silent."

Lucius could see that Pius was not following, and interrupted Hermione. "The Squib marker gene which Hermione found causes the magical genes to be buried in the chromosomes, and therefore they are not expressed. Without the products of the genes working in the cells, the individual will not possess the ability to recognize and wield magic."

"And is this true of every Squib you've studied?" Pius asked.

"Thus far, yes. Obviously I haven't been able to study Squibs in other countries, but for our population, it is holding true."

"And can it be corrected? I mean, if they have the magical genes, could they be activated again by some means?"

Kingsley cleared his throat. "It's too early to say if that would be possible."

"And would these Squibs then be more likely to have magical children?" Pius was not well educated in Muggle science, but every wizarding family knew about breeding and bloodlines.

"Yes—with caveats." Hermione was unsure of exactly how much Kingsley wanted them to say, but Lucius was aware of exactly what Kingsley was doing.

"If they married a pureblood they would probably continue having Squibs. With the right Muggle, definitely. Halfbloods would be a mixed bag."

"I think you see why this information could be dangerous," Kingsley interrupted, folding his hands placidly.

"And your genetic profiles, being the basis for the Ministry's table of arranged marriages, would allow individuals to find their own…partners for offspring." Pius was in no way resembling his last name in the workings of his brain. "This is quite eerily similar to the wizarding wars of the 1500s."

"Indeed," Lucius muttered.

"What of the Muggle researchers with whom you have collaborated? How much do they know about your work identifying the magical genes?"

This was the first astute question which Thicknesse had posed after assimilating the implications of the genetics, and it was one which Hermione could not answer fully.

"I did make some enquiries when I was first suspecting the problem. I couched it all quite carefully in terms of obscure Muggle diseases, but given the sensitive nature of the information, a powerful Legilimens would probably be able to…extract some useful information from them." Hermione's voice trembled slightly, and Lucius placed his hand surreptitiously on her back.

"We will make sure that does not happen," Kingsley reassured. "Pius has already dispatched three Unspeakables to the States to deal with the red tape on that end, and we now have Aurors in Dr. Mullan's lab. Funded by a new grant from the British government, of course."

"Yes, that is a good first step—but the question remains, how do we stop those responsible for attempting to gain this information? We have made little progress in identifying the leak in my division." Lucius' tone was measured even though he was frustrated by the lack of progress.

"It could be prudent to allow the individuals in question to believe that have obtained valuable information," Pius suggested. "It could be arranged, provided the bait was attractive enough, and not so easily obtained."

"What a very Slytherin suggestion, Pius," Lucius remarked sarcastically. "Do you think we haven't already thought of that? But the individuals in question already have obtained some pertinent information about Hermione's work. Without knowing exactly how much, it becomes impossible to select an 'attractive' bait."

"Is there only one pattern to the genetic information, Mrs. Malfoy? Could you not use some Muggle genes as red herrings?"

"I have not found any yet."

Pius met Lucius' eyes and then Kingsley's. "My father always said history had a lot to teach us with respect to our identities. Perhaps that would be a good place to start. We are very focused on the loss of magic within a few generations—are there any times when the wizarding population has boomed?"

"The wars," Lucius breathed, then looked at Pius with a grudging level of respect. "I'm glad you weren't killed after your Imperius, Thicknesse."

"The feeling is mutual, I assure you," Pius said drily.

"Does this give you a fresh perspective, Hermione?" Kingsley asked.

"Yes."

"Good. Now, Pius, what are you going to do about the security of the Magical Research division?" No one spoke of the white elephant in the room: why was Calvin Yaxley not in the meeting, as the head of the MLE.

"I have measures in place as we have previously discussed, Minister."

"I won't have your Unspeakables lurking about invisible, Pius. Magical auras could interfere with a significant number of the experiments that are being run."

"It must be frightfully depressing to have so much continuing education required for your job, Lucius. How positively Ravenclaw of you," Pius retorted, a corner of his mouth quirking upward slightly at his own wit.

"Excuse me, but what about the Aurors?" Hermione did not know if she was still going to be required to have an Auror escort, and it seemed no one was willing to explain why Fabian Underwood at least was not present, if not Calvin Yaxley.

"You will continue to have an Auror escort," Pius Thicknesse said smoothly—too smoothly.

"You mean I will have Unspeakables as well," Hermione said.

"You may very well think that, but I couldn't possibly comment," he replied, and Hermione saw that his middling reply was in perfect accord with Lucius' and Kingsley's opinions by the looks on their faces.

"Fine, don't tell me!" She threw up her hands and had to be content with a glare round the table. "Because you all know how very agreeable I am to being kept in the dark."

"We'll discuss it later." Lucius' eyes were steely, but Hermione was feeling aggravated by the levels of testosterone and old-fashioned male tradition in the room.

"You mean you'll tell me what you want me to do later. I don't think so." Her own eyes flashed with anger and she could see that Lucius was equally irritated with her for disagreeing with him in so public a manner, although he controlled his emotions far better than she.

"I believe it might be best for Lucius and Pius to have a meeting in private regarding the security measures that would be acceptable in Magical Research. You, Hermione, will accompany me to discuss a few things with Potter and Weasley. Over lunch, which I have conveniently arranged."

It was not a request, even couched in the agreeable terms of a fellow Order member, and Hermione understood exactly what Kingsley was saying. "Fine. I will see you later," she said to Lucius, who nodded, a slight smirk on his lips, which merely irritated Hermione further. "Thank you for the suggestion, Pius."

The dark haired man nodded quietly, and she had no choice but to allow Kingsley to sweep her from the room in a gallant manner.


Dinner that evening was a stiltedly polite family affair with Astoria and Draco. Lucius did not ask what she had discussed with Ron, Harry, and Kingsley, and she did not ask what he had discussed with Pius Thicknesse. It was an unspoken accord that they would continue their conversation in private later. The only bit of comic relief was provided by Scorpius, whom Lucius insisted be allowed to attend dinner as they had been gone for a week and the boy had wondered where his grandfather had gone.

"You again," the toddler had said to Hermione as they sat down, then he had proceeded to misbehave spectacularly at the dinner table when Lucius did not give him his full attention. After he caused the salt shaker to pour over the candelabra, Hermione could see why they had no doubts as to the child's magical potency. Draco and Astoria took turns containing his little magical outbursts, and Lucius ignored him whenever he misbehaved, which made him misbehave again.

"How old are you, Scorpius?" Hermione asked before the child could be chastised again in a quiet tone from either Draco or Astoria. It was a bit much to expect the tyke to sit for a four course meal, after all. She couldn't imagine James doing so well, and he must be two years older.

"Two," he said, holding up two chubby fingers.

"You're older than Albus," Hermione said, then smiled at him. "Do you have a broom yet?"

"No," he said sullenly, and Hermione winked at him as the main course was brought to the table. She caught Astoria's eye and exchanged a glance with her as Draco discussed something with his father.

"If you behave, I will turn your dessert fork into a broom for you and have it do some tricks. But you have to behave."

The boy's eyes widened and he nodded.

"I hope you don't mind a shameless bribe," Hermione said quietly to Astoria across the table as Scorpius applied himself to the roast that the charmed fork and knife had cut up for him. It helped that Astoria had charmed the food to assemble itself into fun shapes as he ate it, morphing from a dragon to a dinosaur to a dog as he ate it.

"He's normally not like this. It's because he hasn't seen Lucius in over a week," Astoria said apologetically, and Hermione grinned.

"Don't apologize, he's doing marvelously for his age. I doubt any of the four year olds of my acquaintance could behave half so well for such a long meal."

"I think Lucius just forgot," Astoria said, and Lucius' ears pricked up at the mention of his name.

"What, pray tell, did I forget?" His grey eyes were midly inquiring as he looked from his new wife to his daughter-in-law, and Draco's eyebrow quirked.

"Yes, do tell, Tori."

"Our son is a bit young for such an elaborate meal," Astoria replied calmly, her face perfectly polite although there was a bit of haughtiness in her tone. This was the pureblood mother defending her child, and Hermione had to resist the urge to grin as the image of a television program about animals in the wild popped into her mind. See how the pureblood aristocrat in her natural environment simultaneously trains and protects her offspring. She had to grab her napkin and pretended to cough, which caused Lucius to swivel his attention to her.

"He seems to be doing just fine right now," Lucius observed, keeping his eyes on Hermione.

"That's because Hermione has promised him a treat," Astoria said, eating while she had the chance to do so.

"I see. And what, pray tell, do you intend to do for Scorpius, wife?" Lucius was curious, but years of training would not allow him to show more than a faded disinterest. Table manners were so ingrained from such a young age that he couldn't even begin to pinpoint the time he had learned what was and was not acceptable as far as emotional expressions at the dinner table.

"You'll just have to wait and see if Scorpius earns it," Hermione said, placing a piece of roast in her mouth and meeting Scorpius' eyes across the table. She noted that the boy reapplied himself to his dinner with due diligence after the distraction of the adults talking about him, which was all to the good. Hermione was afraid that he was about to act up again at being discussed as if he were not present.

True to her word, when the plates were removed Hermione waved her hand and Scorpius' dessert fork came to life, the tines elongating and twisting in a way that resembled those of a broom. Lucius and Draco sat back to watch the charm, and Hermione sent the fork zooming around the dinner table, eliciting a whoop of joy from Scorpius, who was ready to bound out of his chair and try to catch it.

"You have to stay seated, Scorpius, or the broom will fly away," Lucius said, watching his wife's wandless magic with appreciation. Talent was always appreciated in the Malfoy family.

Hermione made the fork fly closer and faster to the candle flames, a feat which enraptured his grandson and brought amused smiles to his parents' faces when they saw his expression. Finally Hermione sent it through a pour of salt and then straight through the candelabra flames, producing a shower of orange flame before the fork came to rest back in its place and ordinary state.

"More!" Scorpius pleaded after his wide eyes finally darted to Hermione's.

"Not tonight." She shook her head as an additional no, and Astoria excused herself to put him to bed.

"I'll be right there," Draco said, then lifted his wineglass to Hermione.

"Very good Granger—oh, sorry, Mrs. Malfoy. I'm afraid I'm going to have to come up with some other appellation for you, as 'Mrs. Malfoy' is my wife in my mind, and you're always going to be Granger to me."

"You could just call me Hermione," she offered, and he drank the last of his wine and stood.

"No, I don't think so. You're not exactly my peer any longer, if you see what I'm saying."

Lucius laughed, amused by Draco's forthrightness. "Perhaps when she's heavily pregnant it will be easier."

"Am I to congratulate you already?" Draco asked, though he hardly seemed surprised.

"I do not doubt that you are, although it will be another week before the spell will reliably indicate it," Lucius said good-naturedly, and Hermione flushed at the casual discussion of her pregnancy.

"Excuse me, but it's not as if we've decided to tell anyone," she said to Lucius, and his eyes flickered to hers in surprise.

"But Draco is family. And he knows about the ritual," Lucius said, knowing it would provoke her. They had that argument to finish, and he'd rather have it out sooner than later. The longer she steeped in her anger the more inclined she was to blow up about it, a character trait which had revealed itself quite thoroughly during their work dealings over the past two years.

"Of course he knows! I'm surprised you didn't have a betting pool with your Slytherin cronies to see how long it would take you to trick me into it," she seethed, and Draco grinned.

"Good night Granger! Good luck!" He sauntered out and Hermione seethed more at Draco's inference that his father would best her in a battle of wits.

"You are utterly insufferable!" Hermione burst out as soon as Draco had closed the door. "So how often have you had a laugh with him over me, then?" she asked, rounding on Lucius before he could place any kisses on her to distract her.

"Whatever would make you think I would discuss you with Draco on a regular basis? He is only barely past the insufferably arrogant stage of life. I hardly make a habit of confiding my innermost thoughts to my son." He had sidled closer and managed to get a firm hold on her elbow, apparating them directly to their bedroom.

"Stop doing that! I am perfectly capable of moving myself about the house, thank you very much!" Hermione said, wrenching her arm away from him.

"I simply felt it was better to discuss whatever you wish to discuss in the privacy of our chambers so the house elves may tidy up from dinner," he said calmly, already removing his outer robes and loosening his shirt cuffs and collar.

"You are so…" Hermione began, but Lucius interjected.

"Arrogant? Brash? Presumptuous? Somehow I doubt the next words were going to be 'handsome' or 'sexy'." He continued undressing, apparently unflappable.

"Yes, damn it! All of those things! Why can you not have the decency to argue with me to my face? You know we have to talk about all the Ministry nonsense, why do you calmly go about your business as if we're not in the middle of a raging row?"

"Because we have to get ready for bed, and I'd much rather be in a comfortable pair of pajamas for a row, if we must have one," Lucius said in that infuriatingly reasonable tone of voice he used when he was being persuasive, dropping his shirt to the chair and unbuttoning his trousers. He arched an eyebrow at her when she stood there watching him, a flush suffusing her cheeks from the sight of his naked chest.

"Pompous prig," he heard her mutter to herself as she stalked past to her own chest of drawers, extracting a camisole and pants and waving her wand vindictively to remove all of her garments at once, allowing them to fly in a haphazard manner to the matching chair where the elves retrieved her clothes. She ignored the satin peignoir laid out for her there, he noticed, but that was no less than he expected. The subtle curve of her breast was highlighted briefly in the dim light of the candles along the walls, then covered with the cotton camisole. Lucius resisted the urge to groan out loud. Patience was a virtue of incalculable worth when dealing with a pissed off wife. He pulled on his silk pajama pants and deliberately left the matching shirt unbuttoned. Sighing, he turned to face his wife.

"Now, about the Ministry meeting. Please enlighten me as to how I have wronged you so inerrantly."

"You cannot go on handling the security measures concerning me as if I am some doll to be zealously guarded without any input or say into the arrangements. It's inexcusably rude! I am not your Stepford wife, Lucius!"

"I'm afraid I have not the pleasure of understanding you," Lucius said cuttingly, although he was perfectly familiar with Levin's Muggle novel. "However, I hope you can appreciate that despite your legendary experience during the second war, it is, astonishingly enough, likely that myself and my peers have more experience in such dealings than you do."

"And that means you cannot tell me what is being done for my protection? What if I unwittingly evade one of your protective measures because you have not told me what is going on? I'm not a pawn in some giant chess game, Lucius, I'm going to make my own decisions and evaluate the risks on my own!"

"No you bloody hell are not!" Lucius' temper finally broke free of his ironclad will, and he stopped himself with effort. "Damn it, Hermione, it's not just about you! Ignore the fact that you are now carrying my child, a fact which the rest of the world will be aware of soon enough. Do you not know that you are the only witch who is educated enough, brilliant enough, to unravel this mess in any timely manner that will not result in the greatest explosion of Muggle-wizard relations since the assassination of Franz Ferdinand? It was only the vast skill and diplomatic efforts of Lenin and Lloyd George that kept the wizarding world safe despite the messy overlap between the two."

Hermione's anger was cut off entirely by Lucius' statement. Her mind was reeling from the implications of what he just said. Of course, the only thing that made it out of her mouth was the most irrelevant. "Vladimir Lenin was a wizard?" It made sense now that she thought about it, everyone knew about Lloyd George…they were quite eager to claim him as their own given the turn-out of that war.

Lucius let out a bark of laughter. "I pay you the highest compliment I could pay you, and you ask about Russia's dark wizard? Yes, Hermione. Unsurprisingly, no one wants to talk about it given the parallels that are inevitably drawn to other dark wizards of the past century, but he was a wizard. Now, would you like to get back to the issue at hand, which is that you are now quite literally the 'best hope of the wizarding world'?"

Hermione was dumbfounded, but she had to laugh at that. It was just too damn ridiculous! She hadn't realized she had said it out loud until Lucius drew her up, as she had doubled over with laughter.

"Oh, believe me, I did my fair share of cursing and laughing in equal measure when those words were first quoted to me regarding your work. Damn it, woman, this is serious!"

"But it couldn't possibly be serious, Lucius! Honestly, anyone could do this, if they had half a brain and some patience!"

"But they don't and you do. When was the last time you heard of a witch or wizard going to Muggle university? Refraining from using magic as a shortcut? Whoever would think of doing such a thing? Only you, my stubborn Mudblood wife. Only you." Lucius laughed once again at the very bitter irony of his situation. "At least you are sweet, wife. It is my only salvation, I fear."

She let him tilt her chin up to kiss her, which made her breathless. She hated it and loved it in equal measure that he could do that to her so effortlessly. "So what personal protective measures will I have to endure now, then?"

Lucius led her over to the bed and they settled themselves on it to continue talking, for now. "Pius will place Unspeakables in among the Aurors. Inside the department his people will be more obscure. Some wards are being placed to alert us to any changes, and to disable any communication methods for anyone inside the department, including two way mirrors or objects charmed by the Protean charm."

"Um, was it you who…?" Hermione was hesitant to bring up the subject, but Pius had been under the Imperius, and Lucius was rumored to be more than proficient with it. Although nothing had ever been proven regarding who had placed whom under the Imperius, presumably he had been responsible for some of the Ministry falling to Voldemort.

"Placed him under the Imperius?" Lucius arched an eyebrow in sardonic amusement, a better choice than anger although it was irritating that she dared to bring it up. However, he had expected she would not dance around it forever. At least now she was nearly naked and fairly relaxed, a far better venue than it could have been for this discussion.

"First, would I ever admit it to you? Despite your status as my new wife, my dear, I don't think that entitles you to know all of my secrets. Secondly, I dislike the man because he has a distressing tendency to step on other people's toes, which is a very bad habit indeed when we don't know exactly who in the Ministry is feeding information out to the active parties interested in your death or dismemberment. Delicacy and tact are required, not principled stands."

Hermione shifted so she could look at him, one leg tucked under the sheet and the other under her bum.

"Do you ever take a principled stand that does not place you in opposition to every decent-hearted human being? I can feel it beating beneath my hand, I know you have one—but I swear Lucius sometimes the way you behave I wonder if you are…" Hermione stopped before she said something that was patently untrue and furthermore something she would regret.

"If I am what, Hermione? Pray, do continue with that sentence. I am agog to find out exactly what you think of the wizard to whom you've given yourself and your future." Lucius' tone was no less cutting than she deserved, and Hermione knew she needed to explain as best she could. His eyes flashed in a way that told her he was angry and she was on a short clock.

"I simply do not understand you fully. I had my own reasons for agreeing to marry you as well. I did not have to stay—it would have been cowardly to run away, but I could have done that, I thought about it briefly. But you do have redeeming qualities; you are unquestionably loyal to your family, you are protective, overly so I think but nonetheless it is a positive character trait, you loved Narcissa and you love Draco…"

Hermione stopped before she could allow her mind to spin onward like a silly child from there, and Lucius remarked, "How dreadfully actuarial of you." She could not tell if he was being insulting: his face was as smooth as marble and his eyes were cloaked.

"You did renounce Voldemort and save Harry. I know you can be calculating and cutting, I don't have to like it but I would like to understand it, and you, better. I don't want you to be on trial again, as if I'm some kind of judge and jury for you. That is not what marriage is supposed to be about." She stopped her stream of jumbled thoughts and darted her eyes back up to his, and was relieved to note that at least he was no longer angry.

"I am well aware of what a successful marriage is supposed to be about," he reminded her in a way that made her feel inexperienced and young. "You do not have to fully understand my character to support me and our marriage, Hermione."

"I know that, Lucius. And we are at least on the same page for some things, and for the most part we can ignore the others. But to keep it that way is so cold and clinical. I know we would not have chosen to be together otherwise, but surely if we are both willing to work at it, it does not have to remain that way." She stopped again, hesitant.

"What exactly are you getting at, kitten?" Lucius placed a finger under her chin and forced her to meet his gaze.

"I don't know, really. I just think…we should try." Hermione knew it was ridiculous to say they should try to fall in love with each other, they were too different for that, but there had to be a happy middle somewhere for them both, even if she couldn't articulate it.

"Try." Lucius turned over the many possible permutations which he could add to that word. For an incoherent goal, something you can't even articulate, or perhaps don't dare to…for that which can never be replicated, a marriage of love and mutual understanding with someone who hardly respects my past, let alone understands it. Try. He sighed. "Are you honestly telling me that you can set aside everything that has gone before, that you aren't always going to second guess my motives, analyze everything to death and find it a struggle to give me the benefit of the doubt? I think that is too much for even such a Gryffindor as you, Hermione."

"Well what is the alternative?" Hermione spat with annoyance, then took a deep breath. "To fuck each other and fumble through some half-hearted appearance of unity for our child and the public? You may not be prepared to fight for something, anything better than that, but I am!"

"I didn't say it wasn't worth the effort," Lucius said calmly. "But if you cannot even trust me to take your personality into account, as both your boss and now, more importantly, your husband, what do you honestly think I can do to change your mind?"

"I dislike your cynicism," Hermione said honestly, and Lucius again caught her cheek in his hand and ran his thumb over her lips.

"All I ask is that you be honest with me, Hermione. I much prefer your honest anger and vehement arguments to your mental suppositions and endless analyses of my character and motives. If you can do that, I can…try."

"We can try together," Hermione corrected him, and he allowed a small smile to creep onto his face when she traced his lips with her own fingers, scooting closer. "Please, Lucius. I want to do more than like you or grudgingly respect you."

"And do you like me?" His tone was arch, but she could sense that her answer was important to him on some level.

"You silly man. Of course I do. How could I not?" Her voice was soft as she kissed him, as soft as the body she pressed to his own, his hands naturally resting on her waist, reflexively clenching in the soft fabric of her pajama bottoms as she plied him with honeyed kisses.

"As you say," he replied when she stopped to look at him.

"Arrogant arse," she whispered again, holding him in a tight embrace.

"You like it," he retorted softly.

"Maybe I do."