Chapter 4
At Malfoy Manor
In the soft shadow of Malfoy Manor's study, Lucius awaited Draco's arrival, rehearsing words that would undoubtedly challenge the structured foundation of their father-son dynamic. This conversation was not only overdue but would reshape everything they both thought they understood.
Draco entered without preamble, his gaze steady and intensely scrutinizing.
"Father, we need to talk," he said, pausing to gather his thoughts. "I've noticed changes in you lately—absences, reflective silences that I've never seen before. I need to know what's happening with Hermione Granger."
Lucius sat straighter, meeting Draco's eyes with a calm, unwavering resolve.
"Draco, I want you to understand that, though my relationship with Hermione began before your mother and I finalized our divorce, it was not the reason for our separation. Your mother and I drifted apart long before that."
Draco nodded slowly, studying his father's face, seeking any sign of remorse or regret.
"And Mother? Is she aware?" he asked.
"No, and I would prefer it to remain that way. I want her to move forward in peace, without resentment or bitterness. She deserves that much," Lucius replied, a tinge of sadness shading his voice.
Draco fell silent, taking in the implications of his father's confession.
"Father, you've always been a man of power and control. But this… this is different, isn't it? You're talking about emotions, real feelings," he said, a trace of surprise breaking through his composure.
Lucius exhaled a long, measured breath. "Yes, Draco, this is different. Hermione has altered my perspective—not only about the world but about myself. She's shown me that I could be a better man, someone capable of truly loving."
Draco's face softened as understanding dawned.
"I see. And when do you intend to make your intentions formal?" he asked, a touch of anxiety creeping into his voice.
"Soon. But first, I need to ensure everything is in order, including your support and that of the family. I want this to be a source of unity, not division or scandal," Lucius replied, a faint, almost wistful smile tugging at his lips.
"I'll be there for you," Draco affirmed, his voice steadier, more assured. "I'll do whatever I can to support this union—not for politics or legacy, but because I believe it's the right thing."
Father and son exchanged a meaningful glance, a silent pact forming in the shared quiet of the room. As dusk settled over Malfoy Manor, the ancient walls bore witness to a pivotal moment—a quiet renewal, a delicate hope for what was to come.
Draco's expression grew more serious, his tone weighted with concern.
"And what of our name, Father? Have you considered the implications for our legacy?"
Lucius's gaze held steady. "I have, Draco. That's why I intend to approach this carefully. I propose that you take charge of Malfoy Manor. It is your rightful inheritance, and with Astoria by your side, you can shape it with your own vision. Meanwhile, I will restore the old estate from my mother's side of the family. It's there that I wish to begin a new life with Hermione, after I formally ask for her hand."
Draco's eyes widened, surprise mingling with respect as he took in his father's resolve.
"This is a profound change, Father. I wasn't expecting it, but… if it's what brings you happiness, then you have my full support."
Lucius inclined his head, gratitude evident in his expression.
"Thank you, Draco. This was not an easy decision, but I believe it's the best course for our family's future and for the generations to come."
As Draco left the manor, he felt a lightness that surprised him. The revelation of his father's relationship with Hermione had initially shocked him, but as he considered it further, he began to see the promise it held. Since the war, the Malfoys had fought tirelessly to retain their standing, navigating the lingering distrust from their past association with Voldemort. This union could finally allow them to turn the page, to restore the family's honor in the wizarding world and secure a future for his children free from the weight of the Death Eater legacy.
He knew that change was necessary, not only for himself but for the family as a whole. Draco had grown weary of the wary glances, the guarded looks that others cast his way—not for his status or influence, but out of fear of the former Death Eater he had once been. And then there was his mother's happiness to consider. She had rediscovered joy long before the divorce, having formed a relationship that truly brought her peace.
As for his father, Draco saw in him a rejuvenation that only Hermione seemed able to inspire. He understood it well—it was the same way he felt with Astoria, his own wife, who came from a family with values that diverged starkly from those he'd once been taught to uphold. Draco was reminded of why his father had supported his union with Astoria so readily, why he had embraced their marriage with an uncharacteristic open-mindedness. Suddenly, everything clicked into place.
With the responsibility of Malfoy Manor transferred to him, Draco could both secure their family's standing and provide Astoria with the social life she cherished. The manor, with its grandeur and sprawling gardens, offered Astoria a canvas upon which to weave her creative flair. Draco looked forward to witnessing the magic she would infuse into its ancient halls, transforming it into a symbol of their new beginning—a life shaped by love, acceptance, and resilience rather than the shadows of their past.
Hermione prepared nervously in her apartment, acutely aware of the gravity of the evening to come. She, Lucius, and Draco had deliberated at length on how best to announce their relationship to the world. Draco had suggested a bold move: revealing their engagement at the Christmas dinner, when the family would be gathered. Though daunting, the plan was ultimately agreed upon. Supported by Lucius, Hermione couldn't shake a lingering anxiety, especially after learning that Narcissa would be attending, along with her sister Andromeda, her husband, and their young grandson. Hermione had suggested they postpone, but both Lucius and Draco had refused. Lucius planned to speak privately with her that morning at the manor to reassure her.
Running a hand through her now shoulder-length hair, Hermione's gaze fell on the sparkle of her engagement ring. The simple gesture swept her into a tide of memories, carrying her back to the previous night's Christmas Eve celebration.
**Flashback:**
The Grangers' Christmas Eve was filled with warmth and festive cheer, the house brimming with laughter and lively conversation as the family enjoyed a lavish meal. When the last of the dishes had been cleared and the younger children had been sent off to play, Lucius seized the opportunity for a private word with Hermione's father.
They retreated to the small study where Mr. Granger liked to read in the evenings. Standing by the window overlooking the winter garden, adorned with sparkling lights, Lucius began respectfully:
"Mr. Granger, I realize that what I am about to ask may come as a surprise."
Hermione's father, a man of principles and reflection, folded his hands, a sign of attentive listening.
"Lucius, I'm listening," he replied, meeting the wizard's intense gaze.
"I have come tonight with a very special request." Lucius paused, gauging Mr. Granger's reaction for any hint of objection before continuing. "I wish to ask for your daughter's hand. I love her deeply and vow to cherish and protect her, through all trials and triumphs."
Though slightly taken aback, Mr. Granger couldn't help but feel relieved. He knew Lucius's reputation but also recognized the changes the man had undergone.
"Lucius, it's an honor for our family, and I know Hermione holds you in high regard. If she has chosen you, then you have my blessing."
Returning to the sitting room, where Hermione waited with a mix of excitement and trepidation, Lucius found her standing by the fireplace. Without hesitation, he knelt before her, retrieving a small box from his pocket.
"Hermione, would you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?"
Hermione's eyes sparkled, surprise and raw emotion lighting up her face.
"Yes, Lucius, yes!" she answered, her voice trembling but steady in the room's sudden hush.
Applause erupted around them as family and friends quietly filled the room to witness the moment. Lucius slipped the ring—an elegant sapphire surrounded by diamonds—onto her finger, sealing their commitment under the approving smiles and joyful glances of all present.
**End of Flashback**
Revitalized by the memory of that magical evening, Hermione adjusted her gown, took a deep breath, and left her apartment. Tonight, she would walk through the doors of Malfoy Manor not only as Hermione Granger, the respected witch, but as Lucius's fiancée, ready to embrace her future by his side. The Christmas dinner would herald their new life together, and she knew it would send ripples through their community.
Hermione Apparated to the entrance of Malfoy Manor, the crunch of autumn leaves underfoot and the soft glow of a winter's evening welcoming her. A house-elf, dressed in a crisp uniform, awaited her arrival, standing at attention with an air of quiet expectation. With a polite gesture, he beckoned her to follow, and they made their way through the manor's immaculate gardens, where dormant flowerbeds were carefully blanketed for the winter, and solitary statues stood watch over the stillness of the grounds.
As they neared the grand entrance of the manor, Hermione's heart raced. For a fleeting moment, she considered turning back, her mind racing for an excuse to give Lucius for such a retreat. But before she could act, the grand doors swung open, revealing the warmly lit entrance hall, the golden glow from the chandeliers casting reflections over polished marble floors.
The house-elf bowed and slipped away, leaving Hermione alone with her swirling thoughts. Taking a deep breath, she steadied her heartbeat and stepped forward, her footsteps echoing on the stone floor—a reminder of the significance of the evening ahead.
In the sitting room, a welcoming warmth radiated from the large hearth, and guests gathered around the roaring fire, engaged in lively conversation and occasional laughter that filled the room with cheer.
"So, Lucius," Andromeda Black began, her curious gaze flickering toward the door as she held little Teddy in her arms, "you mentioned you had something you wanted to share with us?"
It was at that precise moment that Hermione made her entrance. She wore a deep blue gown inspired by the styles of Joséphine Bonaparte, with delicate gold embroidery that sparkled under the lights. The dress hugged her waist before flowing gracefully to the floor, accentuating her slender frame and adding a touch of elegance to her every move.
A hush fell over the room, all eyes captivated by her presence. Lucius, who had been standing near the fire, appeared visibly awestruck. With a regal stride, he crossed the room to her, his gaze never leaving her. Reaching her side, he gently took her hand and, under the astonished eyes of everyone present, kissed it with both reverence and affection.
Then, in a rare show of intimacy, he wrapped an arm around her waist and drew her close.
"Ladies and gentlemen," his voice clear and strong in the silence, "allow me to introduce my fiancée, Hermione Granger."
The moment was electric, the couple at the center of everyone's attention. Lucius, his face filled with undeniable pride, held Hermione close, ready to face whatever reactions this revelation might provoke, cementing their commitment in front of a stunned audience.
The evening unfolded in a chorus of diverse emotions. A tense silence followed the announcement, broken only by Astoria's enthusiastic applause. She rushed forward to congratulate Hermione, her face bright with genuine happiness. Gradually, others joined in, though some, like Narcissa, remained motionless, her expression solemn and unreadable.
Visibly shaken, Narcissa requested a private conversation with Lucius and Draco. They stepped away briefly, leaving guests murmuring among themselves over this unexpected news.
Back in the lively room, Hermione noticed a man she hadn't met before. Tall and distinguished, with carefully tied dreadlocks, he exuded an aura both refined and commanding.
"Good evening, I'm Laurent Beuvman, Headmaster of the New Orleans School of Sorcery and, though Lucius may not have been informed, Narcissa's companion this evening," he introduced himself with a charming smile.
Hermione, momentarily taken aback, but disarmed by his candor, returned his smile.
"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Beuvman. Your presence certainly adds an intriguing layer to the evening."
"Please, call me Laurent. Narcissa has a penchant for letting things unfold as surprises," he replied with a friendly tone.
"It seems she's quite skilled at it," Hermione agreed, appreciating the relaxed manner Laurent brought to the conversation.
They shared a warm laugh, and Laurent continued, observing the room with evident interest.
"And congratulations on your engagement. It's certainly tonight's most exciting revelation."
"Thank you. It's a significant step for us," Hermione replied, her heart warming at the thought of her future with Lucius.
Laurent's easy-going presence reminded her that surprises, even the unexpected ones, could enrich a moment, adding a memorable quality to the evening.
When Narcissa returned to the room, each deliberate step resonated with a poised coldness, though a subtle tension betrayed her inner unrest. Lucius followed closely behind, his jaw clenched in barely concealed frustration, while Draco, trailing slightly, wore a discreet, almost triumphant smile, satisfied with how the evening was unfolding, intense turns and all.
In the warm glow of the Malfoy Manor drawing room, the atmosphere had taken on a weighty tension, reflected in the curious and apprehensive expressions of the other guests. Astoria, ever attuned to the nuances of social gatherings, noticed Narcissa's tension upon her return. With graceful poise, she approached her mother-in-law, engaging her in light conversation, hoping to ease the room's collective focus and subtly deflect attention from the palpable strain.
The guests' attention drifted to Hermione and Lucius, particularly when Lucius, in a gesture both tender and reassuring, took Hermione's hand with a quiet confidence.
Seated at the lavishly set table, conversation continued until Narcissa, with a composed elegance, captured the room's attention. Leaning forward slightly, she fixed her curious gaze on Hermione.
"Hermione, may I see your ring?" she inquired softly, her voice betraying a hint of intrigue that silenced the murmurs around them.
Without hesitation, Hermione extended her hand. The sapphire and diamond ring sparkled under the chandelier's light, drawing the attention of all present.
Narcissa examined it with a slight lift of her brow, a look mingling surprise and admiration.
"Is this not Lucius's mother's ring? She always said she would only pass it on to the woman he chose to marry for love."
Lucius replied calmly, his serene tone contrasting with Narcissa's subtle irony.
"Quite right," he said, his gaze filled with affection as he looked at Hermione. Beneath the table, he gave her hand a gentle, supportive squeeze—a gesture that did not go unnoticed.
Astoria, always alert to the mood of her gatherings, sensed the tension escalating after the exchange between Narcissa and Lucius. Determined not to let the evening derail, she turned to Laurent with an engaging smile.
"Laurent, I'd love to hear the story of how you and Narcissa met," she began, redirecting the guests' attention with an enthusiasm that, though feigned, was undeniably effective.
Laurent, catching on to Astoria's intent, smiled back, clearing his throat as he prepared to captivate the room.
"Well, it's a rather simple story, really. We met at an international conference on magical exchanges between schools. Narcissa was representing a student exchange program with Europe, and I was there to present on innovative teaching practices at the New Orleans School of Sorcery," he said, glancing around the table.
He paused, ensuring every guest was listening intently.
"It was during a gala event that it all began. We shared a dance, a conversation, and, well, the rest is history." His gaze fell briefly on Narcissa, who gave a small smile, visibly touched by the story.
Astoria nodded, pleased with the restored levity. "I'm sure that dance was the beginning of something truly special," she added with a smile.
The guests, visibly more at ease, listened as Laurent continued sharing details of his meeting with Narcissa. The dinner resumed with a lighthearted atmosphere, as anecdotes and laughter filled the room, and the evening unfolded with a newfound warmth and camaraderie.
As the evening progressed, the atmosphere gradually relaxed, aided by exquisite wines and spirited conversations. Among the guests was one of Narcissa's distant cousins, known for his humor and fondness for wine, who decided it was time to add even more cheer to the evening. Standing with a mischievous smile, he began recounting amusing tales from past gatherings, embellishing each detail for the guests' amusement.
"And just imagine, it was the Halloween Ball! He mistook a statue for a guest and spent a good hour regaling it with stories of his days at Hogwarts!" Laughter erupted around the table, some guests nearly choking with laughter, others shaking their heads in delight at the sudden shift to a lighthearted mood.
Keeping the momentum, he produced an old hat that had been among the Christmas decorations and began imitating, with comical precision, a famous Hogwarts professor. His deep voice took on exaggerated tones, and his grand gestures captured the eccentric nature of the character perfectly.
"And remember, my dear students, potions can be as dangerous as they are captivating!" he concluded, prompting another round of hearty laughter.
The tension that had initially weighed on the evening seemed to dissipate, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and cheer. When it was finally time for guests to take their leave, Hermione, buoyed by the lighter moments of the night, prepared to Apparate home. However, Lucius gently stopped her, a mischievous glint in his eye.
"Hermione, before you leave, I'd like to show you something," he said, inviting her to follow him outside.
Moments later, they arrived at the old manor belonging to Lucius's mother's family, where he shared his plans to restore it as their future home. Captivated by the beauty and history of the place, Hermione, moved by the vision of a new beginning, proposed spontaneously:
"What if we started by living together at my place while the restoration is underway? It would be perfect for us to grow even closer."
Lucius, touched by her suggestion and her unwavering support, agreed with a genuine smile. Together, they began to envision their shared future, symbolized by the restoration of the manor—a future built on love, trust, and the promise of a new beginning.
The silvery moonlight bathed Narcissa's bedroom in a cold, ethereal glow. Beside her, Laurent slept peacefully, his calm, even breathing a stark contrast to the tempest within her. Despite the warmth of his presence, she felt an icy chill rooted deep in her bones—jealousy and bitterness clawing their way through her mind. The moon illuminated her face, casting shadows on her tense, furrowed features.
Narcissa's thoughts were plagued by Lucius. She had believed her love for him to be something of the past, yet tonight's revelation—the announcement of his engagement to Hermione Granger—had reignited feelings she thought extinguished long ago. She knew she shouldn't feel this way; after all, she had found solace with Laurent, a gentle companion who had stood by her during the turmoil of her divorce. But watching Lucius with Hermione, radiant and admired by everyone, including her former husband, had cut deeper than she could bear.
Turning towards the window, Narcissa let the cold light of the moon fall over her as if it might judge her conflicted emotions. Tonight had been too much. Seeing Hermione, youthful and vibrant, receiving not only Lucius's admiration but also that of the entire gathering, felt like a betrayal. The family ring that now graced Hermione's finger—an heirloom Narcissa once wore herself—seemed a physical manifestation of Lucius's departure from the world they had built together.
In the quiet of the night, Laurent's tranquil breathing filled the silence, and she envied his peace. For him, the tangled web of wizarding traditions and ancient grudges was nothing more than a story, a distant echo of a life he hadn't lived. As dawn approached, Narcissa knew that the coming day would demand decisions. Perhaps it was time to truly let go of her past and embrace her future with Laurent. Yet, for tonight, under the moon's watchful eye, she wrestled with her past—a battle between jealousy and the pursuit of peace.
The first light of dawn crept into Narcissa's room, bringing with it the sounds of birds singing in the crisp morning air. She stirred, achy and drained, a testament to the restless night. Slowly, she rose, moving through her morning routine with a sense of detachment. Staying in the guest wing of Malfoy Manor, a place she had once ruled, still felt surreal. Preparing herself, she noticed the subtle warmth Astoria had brought to the manor—a far cry from the imposing and austere atmosphere that lingered in the days following the Dark Lord's influence.
Once ready, Narcissa headed to breakfast, only to encounter Laurent in the corridor. With tender affection, he gently pulled her into the adjacent library, his eyes filled with understanding.
"My dear Narcissa," he began with a warm smile, brushing a strand of hair from her face, "I must say, I thoroughly enjoyed myself last night, despite the apprehension I felt meeting your family, your son, and your ex-husband."
She sighed, her hands resting lightly on his chest. "I'm sorry, Laurent. I should have been bolder, introduced you openly. I wish I had done it sooner…"
Laurent squeezed her hands reassuringly. "Narcissa, there's no need to apologize. I understand how delicate these situations are. I know last night's revelations must have been a shock for you."
A glimmer of gratitude softened her gaze. "Your understanding means so much to me, Laurent. Yes, I feel betrayed and shaken, and I think I need to speak candidly with Lucius. I'll stay one more day before joining you."
He nodded, his embrace firm and reassuring. "Take all the time you need, my love. I'll be waiting." He sealed his words with a gentle kiss before they proceeded to the dining room together.
Returning to Malfoy Manor after seeing Laurent off, Narcissa felt the chill of the air bite at her skin, a stark contrast to the warmth emanating from the manor's grand hearth. She knew Lucius would be in his study, sorting through documents and family records—work that would soon be passed to their son, Draco.
With a steely resolve, she knocked lightly on the study door. Lucius, recognizing her presence, stiffened but continued organizing the piles of parchment on his desk. Narcissa entered, lingering by the small settee near the fireplace but chose to remain standing, her gaze unwavering as she met Lucius's eyes. Lucius, pausing, conjured two glasses of cognac with a familiar elegance and handed one to her as an unspoken greeting.
"Laurent left safely, then?" Lucius asked, a note of carefully crafted indifference in his voice.
"Yes, thank you for asking. He actually enjoyed the evening, despite… the circumstances." Her tone held a hint of bitterness.
"Indeed," Lucius replied, his voice laced with subtle provocation. "I daresay we were all taken aback by his appearance."
"Were we, Lucius?" Narcissa's voice rose, laced with controlled fury. "You have the audacity to say that after the… 'surprise' you sprang on all of us?"
Lucius's gaze hardened, but he held his calm. "I intended to speak with you in private this morning, but since you arrived with Laurent, I thought you deserved to discover it as everyone else did."
Narcissa held back her retort, taking a slow sip of cognac, resisting the urge to throw the glass at her former husband.
"Regarding Hermione…" Lucius began, but Narcissa cut him off.
"Yes, how did it come to this?" she demanded, her voice tight. "She is everything you once despised, the antithesis of your upbringing and our world! She was at Hogwarts with Draco, for Merlin's sake! Are you bewitched, Lucius? Tell me, did you start seeing her before our divorce?"
Lucius straightened, his composed expression finally showing a hint of the turmoil within.
"Narcissa, I understand your anger. But it was after we both acknowledged that our marriage had long been over. We hadn't shared anything meaningful for years."
Her voice sharpened, a furious intensity behind each word. "That's your defense, then? You throw yourself into the arms of the first woman who challenges your outdated ideals? And her, a Muggle-born, Lucius! It's a disgrace to everything we stood for!"
Lucius took a step closer, his gaze fierce. "She is not just 'any woman.' Hermione is a brilliant, remarkable witch whom I admire and love, and I will not allow anyone—even you—to demean her worth."
"You love her?" Narcissa spat, her face contorted in disgust. "You betray decades of principles for a late-blooming infatuation?"
Lucius's jaw clenched as he countered, "And where have those principles led us, Narcissa? To isolation, war, and loss. I didn't choose whom to love, but I choose not to live in resentment and hatred any longer."
Narcissa held his gaze, her eyes narrowing. "And what of Draco? Do you think he'll just accept this? That our name will not be sullied by this… entanglement?"
Lucius's voice softened, though his resolve remained unshaken. "Draco wants what's best for us all. He supports this. He understands that times have changed and that we must evolve."
"Evolve? Look at you," she laughed, a bitter, humorless sound. "Throwing away everything we built for a passing fancy."
"This is no fancy," Lucius replied, his voice steady. "It's my life, and I won't hide any longer. I'm done living in the shadow of expectations."
They stood in tense silence, the weight of her anger pressing heavily upon them both. Finally, Narcissa's tone grew cold, her words laced with a resigned finality.
"Then live your life, Lucius. But remember—actions have consequences. I won't be around to pick up the pieces."
With that, Narcissa turned and left, leaving Lucius alone, grappling with the bridges he may have irrevocably burned.
That evening, Hermione found herself wrapped in Lucius's embrace, feeling a sense of peace and belonging that she had rarely known. Their engagement marked a union she had once thought impossible, and every moment spent together now was a testament to their deep and unexpected love.
In the softly lit bedroom of Danburry Manor, their passion reignited as they rediscovered one another, skin against skin, with a blend of longing and tenderness. Together, they silenced their worries, lost in the intimacy of shared love.
"Lucius," Hermione murmured, her voice a mix of desire and adoration, "I never imagined we'd come this far, but I wouldn't trade this for anything."
Moved by her words, Lucius held her closer. "My love, each day with you is a gift. You are my improbable miracle."
Wrapped in each other's arms, they fell asleep, assured in the certainty of their love—a love that, against all odds, had carved a golden chapter in their lives under the quiet, watchful stars.
Hermione stood at the entrance of the new Burrow, the Weasleys' warm and lively home, her heart pounding with anxiety. It was a beautiful, sunlit day, but the storm brewing in her mind darkened the scene. She had made a monumental decision, and the time had come to share it with those she considered her heart's family. Despite her excitement for the future she had chosen, a part of her feared the reactions that awaited her.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped over the threshold, greeted by familiar smiles and warm embraces that always welcomed her at the Weasleys'. Yet, behind these smiles, a tension was palpable, as if everyone sensed that her news would be the spark for an inevitable shift.
"Hermione, dear, how are you?" Molly inquired, ever-maternal, guiding her toward the sitting room where the family and a few members of the Order of the Phoenix had gathered.
Hermione steadied herself, gathering her thoughts and her courage.
"I have something important to tell you," she began, her voice betraying a hint of apprehension. The room quieted, and every gaze fell upon her, filled with curiosity and a touch of concern.
"I'm engaged," she blurted out, the silence stretching for a moment before the name of her fiancé caused an audible gasp. "To Lucius Malfoy."
A murmur of shock rippled through the room, expressions shifting from surprise to confusion and, in some cases, barely veiled outrage. Arthur, his face drawn, was the first to break the silence.
"Hermione, are you certain about this? Lucius has always been skilled with the Imperius curse… Are you sure you're not under his influence?"
Ron, whose face had turned scarlet with anger, couldn't contain his reaction.
"After everything he's done, Hermione! How can you even consider this? How can you forget what happened at Malfoy Manor?" His voice, growing louder, carried an unspoken accusation, earning a reproachful look from his mother.
Hermione, shaken but resolute, tried to maintain her composure as the Weasleys and their allies debated the legitimacy of her engagement, the question of Lucius's character, and, for some, the possibility of dark manipulation.
The arguments intensified, each one delivered with passion, reflecting a range of complex emotions. At the center of this emotional storm, Hermione summoned all her strength to defend her choice.
"This is my life, my choice. I ask you to respect that," she said with a firm voice, infused with conviction.
"But Hermione, think of everything he's done in the past!" Ginny pressed, visibly torn between her affection for Hermione and her reservations.
"I know better than anyone what he's done. But people can change, Ginny. Lucius has shown he's worthy of a second chance," Hermione replied, her patience stretched thin.
"And if it's a mistake? What if you're wrong about him, Hermione?" murmured George, speaking up for the first time, his concern evident.
"Then it will be my mistake to make and to live with," she replied, her gaze sweeping the room, searching for some support.
Harry, who had observed the exchange thoughtfully, finally intervened.
"I've spoken to Lucius a number of times over the past few months. I haven't seen any sign that he's planning anything malicious. Maybe… it's time we all moved forward."
His words seemed to slightly ease the atmosphere, though a level of skepticism lingered. Molly, who had been listening in silence, finally spoke, her voice gentle but firm.
"We're your family, Hermione. We just want to be sure you're safe and happy."
Hermione nodded, grateful despite everything for their concern.
"I know, and I love you all for it. Just… please, try to trust me on this."
The conversation continued for a while longer, less heated but still laden with unresolved worries. Hermione stood firm, bolstered by her deep love for Lucius and the certainty in her heart.
In the cozy ambiance of the Danburry Manor's private sitting room, Lucius and Hermione found solace from the chill outside, the room offering an atmosphere of both grandeur and intimacy that the austere Malfoy Manor could never quite capture. Velvet-covered walls in deep burgundy absorbed the warm candlelight scattered across the space, creating a gentle glow. Thick curtains, drawn against the winter wind, sealed them in an embrace of quiet warmth and protection.
For tonight's dinner, they had chosen this intimate setting, where ancient paintings adorned the walls, whispering tales of generations past. The flickering candlelight lent a soft warmth, further complemented by the reassuring crackle of the fire in the nearby hearth. The meticulous touches within the room reflected the intentional merging of their worlds—an intersection of Lucius's legacy with Hermione's openness, blending seamlessly into a harmonious whole.
A carefully curated menu had been prepared by a devoted house-elf, featuring dishes that celebrated local ingredients with a touch of modern flair, delighting their palates with a dialogue between tradition and innovation. Each course was a subtle reflection of their journey together—a fusion of their pasts, shared experiences, and dreams for the future.
Throughout the meal, Lucius and Hermione raised their glasses in numerous toasts, each one honoring not just the love they shared but the hopes and challenges that lay ahead. With each clink, they reaffirmed their commitment to face life's uncertainties side by side, strengthened by the depth of their bond.
As they lingered over a dessert of poached pears in spiced wine with mascarpone, Hermione chose this serene moment to share her news. Her eyes sparkled with excitement as she lifted her champagne flute, the candlelight casting golden flecks in her gaze.
"Lucius, I have something important to tell you. I've been promoted to Director of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures," she announced, her voice trembling with excitement and a hint of nervousness.
Lucius's face immediately softened with pride. Setting down his fork, he reached across the table to take her hands in his.
"I never doubted you, Hermione. To see all you've achieved fills me with an indescribable pride. You've earned this position, and I know you'll bring about remarkable changes," he replied, his voice filled with conviction.
Hermione, touched by his support, felt a tear of joy welling at the corner of her eye.
"Being here with you, celebrating not only this new year but this milestone in my career, means everything to me. I couldn't imagine a better start to our future together," she said, her heart beating in time with his.
They exchanged a knowing glance and a shared smile before leaning into a kiss, one rich with promises for the new year and many more to come. Their champagne glasses, momentarily forgotten on the table, bore silent witness to this renewed commitment.
Danburry Manor, with its thick walls and sprawling grounds, had become their haven—a sanctuary beyond the reach of the outside world. Often, they strolled along the tree-lined paths, their breath visible in the chilly air, their laughter echoing into the winter breeze. In the evenings, wrapped in the cozy warmth of their retreat, they nestled together on the sofa under layers of blankets, shielded from the cold by the crackling fire.
Their conversations ranged from grand plans for the manor itself—future renovations and restorations they envisioned together—to Hermione's ambitious goals for the Department of Magical Creatures. They shared personal stories from before they'd met, laughing at past misunderstandings and marveling at the paths that had brought them here, together.
The simplicity of these moments, removed from all political and social complexities, allowed them to see each other with fresh eyes, strengthening a love that now felt resilient enough to overcome their shared histories. It was a week suspended in time, a bubble of happiness where each day added a new layer of certainty to their shared future.
In the morning atmosphere of London, Hermione Granger was putting the final touches on her apartment, meticulously preparing each space to welcome a potential renter. She and Lucius had decided to put her apartment up for lease, as their lives would now continue at Danburry Manor. As she adjusted one last cushion, the mood shifted abruptly with Lucius's arrival. Unlike his usual demeanor, his face held a chilling detachment, absent of any warmth.
As the appointment time approached, Hermione, despite a growing unease, tried to maintain a facade of normalcy. The supposed renter arrived at the door with a polite smile, though his eyes betrayed a darker intent. As he pretended to inspect the apartment, his calculating gaze seemed to assess far more than the arrangement of the rooms; he examined every corner as if memorizing possible exits or weaknesses.
Suddenly, the atmosphere turned. The man's demeanor changed with chilling speed, transforming from potential renter to aggressor in an instant. With a firm and brutal hand, he seized Hermione, clamping a hand over her mouth to muffle her cries. The shock of betrayal hit her immediately as she looked to Lucius in terror. Far from rushing to her aid, he watched, his expression impassive, revealing a sinister complicity.
Dragged forcefully from her apartment, Hermione was made to Apparate. The journey was rough and disorienting, each beat of her heart shattering against the reality of her situation. Upon arrival, she was unceremoniously thrown into a dark, damp cell.
The cell was a harsh cube, its stone walls damp with moisture, with a faint light barely filtering through a high, grated window. The floor was cold and uneven, with cracked stone slabs, and in one corner lay a worn mattress—the cell's only piece of furniture. The metallic door clanged shut with a final, echoing sound, sealing Hermione into darkness and despair.