Chapter Text
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“Hello Hermione.”
Hermione was sitting in front of the fire in an oversized velvet chair in the main room with a firewhiskey in hand, courtesy of Jone. She would never understand how she could feel so warm in a manor that many would say she should be running away from, kicking and screaming. In the recesses of her mind Hermione knew that deep down it had to do with the company, albeit reformed, that was in the manor more than the manor itself. The drawing room still needed to be figured out, though. The winds outside were getting stronger, windows groaning under the sudden changes in directions. The sky had all the indications of rain but nothing yet. It seemed to be holding out until the last possible moment.
She rises from the chair when she hears Lucius and sees him out of the corner of her eye, but stumbles a bit as she does so, seeing small stars in her eyes. Hermione recovers quickly and doesn’t react to the unsteadiness of her feet, but deep down she knew Lucius had probably noticed since he seemed to notice everything.
There’s the two hours of sleep catching up with me. That has to be what it is.
“Lucius, how are you?”
Seems the better question would be how are you doing, dear girl?
Lucius saw the bags under her eyes were back in the same standout fashion that they were the first time he met with her in the conference room those weeks ago. He wondered how her sleep was in her own flat and was more than a little eager to bring up the potions Severus had provided him with to try and help the terrors. He opened his arms to Hermione for a hug, which she gladly accepted, arms wrapping around one another for the first time in days. She still felt thin and unnourished and it made a knot form in Lucius’ throat.
You could just make her stay here for a while, old boy. But fine, do it your way.
“Doing just fine, my dear, and you? Hopefully you weren’t out in this cold too much.”
They break apart slowly and she returns to her seat as Lucius finds his own chair beside hers. Hermione takes a sip of her firewhiskey, watching as Lucius wandlessly makes a drink of the same,
“I was out in it a bit, I went down to Champions Brew in the afternoon for a pick me up, I needed one after a difficult owl I received. I had an interesting drink companion for a moment while I was there.”
“Oh?”
What was the difficult owl? If it was the git she would have told me.
“I ran into Draco, actually. We sat and chatted for a little while, he spoke very fondly of you, you should know.”
Lucius wears a soft smile now,
“Well, I’m glad to hear it, we’ve…we’ve each come a long way since the war. I’m proud of him.”
A comfortable silence falls, the crackling of the fire and the thunder clapping outside preventing any awkwardness from arriving. Hermione was glad she chose her grey slacks before coming to the manor, they were warmer and more comfortable than her other pairs. Her cream jumper had seen better days, but it was just on the right side of broken in and she didn’t want to replace it just yet.
Lucius takes a sip of his drink,
“I spoke to someone today as well, when I was in Diagon Alley, they bumped into me actually.”
“I didn’t know you as the type to go to the alley in person?”
Her eyebrows are raised a bit with a playful expression on her face, Lucius chuckles,
“I’ve been known to make an exception a time or two. I’m not sure how you’re going to handle this, and I want you to know everything is fine, but I git Weasley boy ran into me this morning.”
Merlin’s fucking beard. Seriously?!
“Oh,”
Lucius watched and could see the switch in her, plain as day to anyone who would be paying attention. Her initial reaction showed what seemed to be a flash of anger but it was quickly dispelled. What replaced it instead made his chest ache. She set down her firewhiskey on the glass table in front of them, smoothed out a non-existent wrinkle in her slacks, and put on a grin-and-bear-it smile before looking to Lucius and continuing,
“I’m sorry you had to see him this morning, I’m sure that was a bit awkward for you, especially if he was in a state.”
“A state?”
Why won’t you fight, sweet girl? You won’t fight alone this time, I swear it.
“Yes, a state. I’m sure he was either rude or drunk or angry or any number of negative emotions towards you and for that I apologize. I’m sure his words were unkind to you and I’m sure not very complimentary toward me and you shouldn’t have had to hear those things or be exposed to it and I apologize.”
Lucius’ patience was beginning to feel thin. He sets his firewhiskey glass down beside hers, his a bit more violently and the sharp shrill of glass on glass makes its sound known,
“May I ask why exactly you are apologizing for him? Because, as I see it, he has never been worthy of your time or your love and has done nothing but hurt you. I have to admit, I was and still am prepared for your anger in the situation but I see none. Why is that?”
His tone is tight and the veins at his neck are beginning to pulse with a little more speed than normal.
“Why is what?”
Oh, yeah, that’s a great idea. Play dumb with him. What is wrong with you?!
Lucius gives a dry chuckle, picks up his firewhiskey, takes a sip,
“Why aren’t you angry? I’ve seen you best wizards and witches alike, far older and more experienced than you with more harnessed anger than even I would've thought possible. Merlin, you punched my son in the face on behalf of a creature of Hagrid’s, after calling him a cockroach even, but you won’t do anything but plaster on a happy face like an arranged housewife when it comes to this fucking git Weasley! So I want to know why!”
The frustration and tightness in his tone is not directed at Hermione, not in the ways of the past. Even she knows the ire in his tone is directed towards the situation and it makes sense. He has seen her fight, he knows her passions of those defenseless or in need, Merlin he saw it first hand at his own trial, so she can understand the confusion at why she wouldn’t apply the same treatment to herself,
“It’s an easy question Lucius, but it’s not an easy answer.”
“It doesn’t have to be an easy answer Hermione, but I would like to know why you will fight for everyone, creature and witch or wizard alike, but not yourself. I’ve got enough firewhiskey in this manor to drown us both and no plans for the evening, so however long or detailed the answer is, I’m prepared.”
Well, there it was. The ball was completely in her court. It wouldn’t be a pretty discussion, but then again, what between them ever was? Hermione reaches out and finishes her firewhiskey,
“Alright, if you want to know, I am angry. I'm livid, disappointed, upset, all of it. But I can’t show that to anyone, especially Ginny or Harry or work or anyone. So I have to keep it all together, I have to bottle up those emotions and bury them somewhere. And I…I…I didn’t want to, after a while. Once the shock that Ron was truly gone wore off I wanted to cry and scream and yell, but I couldn’t do that. No, the ‘golden girl’ couldn’t be seen as anything other than perfect. And you…you of all people know how the press and people treat witches who fly off the handle like that, they’re instantly cast out and talked about and fired and disregarded. And I couldn’t let that happen, no, not when Ron took everything away from me and all I had was my work. I couldn’t afford to be seen as losing it in any way, I’m held to a higher standard or haven’t you heard? I don’t have the luxury of being angry Lucius, I just don’t.”
Lucius runs his hand down his face and finishes his firewhiskey, placing the glass on the table. Her words and methods made sense, unfortunately. And he hated that that was the way it was for witches in this world, she was absolutely correct about everything.
Per usual.
However, that didn’t mean it didn’t piss Lucius off. Not even saving the world afforded this woman the luxury of expressing an emotion everyone else could. He sighs and his voice is a bit resigned,
“That doesn't apply here.”
“What doesn't?”
“The higher standard. It doesn’t apply here, in the Manor or with me. You can scream, break things, duel me, whatever you feel you need. This…”
Lucius reaches out and takes both of her hands in his, eyes pleading as he continues,
“This is a safe space for you, Hermione. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, my dear, but it is. And more than that is the fact that you don’t have to fight alone anymore. Not if you don’t want to and especially not in this. I…I will never force you to do anything you do not wish, but I would highly encourage you to find a healthy outlet for these emotions. You can’t bottle it up forever.”
Hermione’s eyes close at his last words, well knowing he’s right but just not wanting to instantly admit it. When her eyes open Lucius is watching her, the tension from his face gone from the earlier words, the fireplace glow has gotten more intimate as it has gotten darker outside. And as she looks into those damn blue eyes and nods as she feels her own brown ones begin to sting. Not wanting to cry in front of him again, she attempts a shift in the conversation,
“You never told me what you were in Diagon Alley for?”
Luciusd doesn’t bite though. He takes each of her hands up to his lips and kisses them gently. Letting them go,
“Please hear the words I said. You deserve to have someone by your side,”
After a moment he wandlessly refills their firewhiskey,
“But back to your question, I went to Diagon Alley for a potion.”
“A potion?”
Lucius rises and walks over to the small secretary desk beneath the window in the corner of the front room,
“Yes, well three actually,”
Opening the right side drawer he takes out the vials from Severus, walk back over to Hermione,
“They’re for you. I described your night terrors, without revealing it was you, to a dear friend and potions master and he recommended these three, each slightly stronger than the last. I know you’ve mentioned you’ve tried potions before, but I don’t think you’ve tried ones as high of a quality as these.”
Lucius places them into her hands and sits down beside her again, sipping his firewhiskey.
“You went, in person, to Diagon Alley, for me?”
“Yes. I’ve been a bit worried about how much rest you’ve been able to receive these past few nights, since you weren’t here at the manor. Though I should have gotten these earlier for you, I now realize.”
Hermione smiles a small, but genuine, smile to Lucius,
“Thank you for getting these for me. I haven’t been sleeping well on my own this week, so thank you very much. It was very kind of you.”
Nodding,
“Do I want to know how many hours you’ve been able to get at night?”
“Probably not,”
Hermione laughs and Lucius follows,
“But it’s about two.”
“Two, two hours? A night?”
Hermione nods, slightly smiling, and Lucius swears to Merlin he can feel some of his hair turning from platinum to grey,
“Dear girl, what is wrong with you?!”
His tone if light and there’s a sense of amusement in the air at just the sheer ridiculousness of the situation,
“Oh yes, that’s just fine. The brightest witch of her age running on fumes, no, no, that’s quite alright! Come here you,”
Chuckling and shaking his head, he places his drink down and rises. Hermione mirrors his movements with a giggle, setting the potions down and goes to stand in front of him, winds and thunder picking up outside the Manor walls. Lucius takes her face in his hands, cradling her like the gentle and precious thing he saw her to be. Still chuckling,
“What ever am I going to do with you?”
Hermione smiles before deciding to have a little fun with her answer, her arms going around him,
“Well that can be answered a few different ways, Mr. Malfoy.”
Lucius smirks at her, raises an eyebrow,
“Yes, yes it can Ms. Granger. Do you care to share an answer with me?”
Hermine takes a step forward, causing their bodies to touch even more, her arms more firmly wrapped around him. She looks up at him and is once again mesmerized by his eyes. More than that, though, she looks down slightly to his lips. She couldn’t quit thinking about the kiss they shared those days ago, how receptive he was and now soft his lips were. Hermione hasn’t been bold for so long and tonight the honest conversation Lucius had with her reminded her of that fact. It was a painful, but necessary, reminder of who she used to be and who she wanted to be again. So what better time to start than in the present moment?
Her hands leave Lucius’ back and travel up, her fingers beginning to run through his hair, delighted at the slight shudder she feels from the man in front of her,
“I think I’d rather show you.”
Hermione leans up and Lucius wastes no time in meeting her on the way, her lips on his again, and it feels like coming home. His hands leave from holding her face to wrapping around her and pulling her into him, deepening the kiss as he does so. Their first kiss was sweet and intimate and gentle. This one though had a bit of heat behind it, more passion was shared and Merlin above if it didn’t feel just right.
Hermione moans into the kiss as Lucius takes the opportunity and slips his tongue into her mouth. They continue this passionate exchange with hands roaming and discovering each other in an entirely new way. The world around them failed to exist in these moments and neither one cared. Hermione was surprised with the true conversion of Lucius Malfoy. There was a time in the not very distant past that not only would he have never done this to her or anyone of her kind, but he would have done far worse things as well. But now he seemed to genuinely care for her. Hermione had no idea how far it would go or when it would end, if it would end, but she had never felt even an ounce of this at any time with Ron.
Because Lucius cares for you. Can’t you see that?
The intensity of the realization of those facts, coupled with the high emotions from their previous discussion, and the awareness that she was finally taking something for herself, had her gasping for air more than she realized. Lucius could feel her pulling back slightly and he breaks the kiss, each of them panting without letting the other one out of their arms.
“Are you-”
A loud and very close thunder clap stunned Lucius into silence and had Hermione balling his jumper into her hands, her racing heart now startled. Lucius tries again,
“Are you alright, darling?”
Fuck me, ‘darling’? Oh I could get used to that.
Hermione smiles and notices his blue eyes have darkened as a result from their passion, she hopes,
“Better than alright. Just…needed to catch my breath.”
Another thunder clap arrives and this time it shakes the windows a bit as Lucius begins to run his hands up and down Hermione’s back as her heads rests on his shoulder,
“This storm is only getting worse. I think you should stay here tonight.”
“I’d like that.”
Lucius looks down at her, pleasantly surprised at her acceptance of an offer without justification or apology. Maybe they were making progress after all. Hermione meets his gaze as Lucius leans down and gives her a short, sweet kiss on the lips,
“It’s settled then. No more thinking for tonight, dear witch, only rest.”
Hermione chuckles and shakes her head at him as they walk arm in arm through the Manor to the bedrooms, not caring about the storm just outside.
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