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The Heirloom	By : soldiersgirl0709 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 18477 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. I do not own anything related to Harry Potter or the Harry Potter Universe. All things recognizable belong to JKR and WB. No money is made from the sharing of this fic, only friends and smiles.

Chapter List
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CHAPTER 11

“What are you going to do?” Ginny asked as she slid a cup of tea towards Hermione.

“I don’t know,” Hermione said honestly as she stared at the obituary in the prophet. “I didn’t even know that his mother was still alive. I certainly never met her.”

“She was living in a residential care facility near Dragon’s Keep,” Ginny said. “I am told that Lucius was quite close to her.”

“I’m afraid that in the few conversations that Lucius and I have had we have never spoken of his family,” Hermione replied, feeling somewhat guilty. “Maybe I should send flowers.”

“Regardless of the circumstances you are his wife, for another month anyhow,” Ginny said, sipping her tea. “And you have slept with him. Twice.”

“Thrice, actually, but that’s neither here nor there,” Hermione said as she tossed the paper aside.

“Draco’s wife said that Lucius is beside himself with grief, he has no friends to comfort him,” Ginny leaned back in her chair, her hand resting on the swollen mound of her fourth child growing inside her.

“So what are you saying? Are you telling me I should go?” Hermione asked.

“I can’t tell you what you should do, Hermione, you have to decide that on your own. You are the one who has to live with whatever decision you make,” Ginny said, tapping her fingers against her belly.

“Ugh, you’ve been married to Harry too long , he sounds like Dumbledore and now you are beginning to as well,” Hermione snorted as she pushed to her feet. “Can you waddle up the stairs and help me choose a dress?”

                                                                                                ~@~

                The church was large and imposing as Hermione climbed the stone steps. Her sensible heels made a soft clicking sound on the stone floor as she passed through the first set of double doors. A second set was preceded by a podium containing a book and quill. When she approached the charmed feather scrolled her name on the parchment. Hermione Granger-Malfoy. She shrugged and took the small memorial pamphlet that appeared atop the book.

                On the front was the smiling portrait of an elderly woman with lovely silver hair and familiar silver-blue eyes. Beneath the portrait was the name of the woman:

Ariadne Tatiana Dorovsky Malfoy

December 3, 1818-January 14, 2013

               Beloved Mother

Hermione tucked the little card into her purse and stepped through the second set of double doors that led to the sanctuary. Row after row of wooden pews filled the room, all of them empty aside from the first few rows. At the end of the long aisle stood a gleaming white casket adorned with shocking pink roses and surrounded by sprays of brightly colored flowers. As she made her way down the aisle she could see the still figure of the woman lying within, her hands crossed over her chest with an ornately carved birch wand tucked beneath them.

                Hermione stepped up and looked down upon the elderly witch. She could see that Lucius had his mother’s bone structure and from the photograph on the memorial card she could tell that he and Draco had her to thank for their beautiful eyes. She said a little payer and bowed her head in respect for the woman before she turned to face the others in the church.

                There were only a handful of people or two. Most of them appeared to be dressed in medical robes. Hermione assumed that they had been her caretakers. There were a few well-dressed witches and wizards that were likely either family or associates there to pay their last respects. One would think that the mother of such a well-known wizard would have had more people in attendance but given that she had never known of her, Hermione could guess that Ariadne Malfoy chose to maintain a modest life out of the limelight.

                Hermione’s gaze fell to the very front pew where her eyes met the shocked gaze of Draco Malfoy. He was sitting beside his father who had his head bowed so that all she could see was the top of his head. Draco said nothing, just stared at her with an awed expression as he scooted to the side to make room for her. Hermione moved as if on auto pilot, assuming the place that Draco had just cleared for her. Gently she laid her hand on top of Lucius’s where it rested on his thigh, her fingers wrapping around his supportively. He lifted his head and turned it towards her.

“Why are you here?” he asked softly. A mixture of grief and gratitude shone in his eyes.

“No matter what the circumstances, I am your wife. How would it look if I didn’t come?” she said. “Besides, you need a friend.”

“Thank you, Hermione,” he replied. The minister approached the lectern and cleared his throat. Lucius took a deep breath and his fingers tightened around hers. He needed her support so she remained there beside him, holding his hand until the Eulogy was over. When the minister finished Lucius stood and walked to the casket. With tears welling in his eyes he carefully closed the lid. The minister stepped down and the casket lifted, floating in the air behind the praying man as he led the procession down the aisle.

                Lucius looked to Hermione, his face was pinched with sorrow and she couldn’t stop herself from moving to his side. She took his hand and with her on one side and Draco on the other, they followed behind the procession to the churchyard where Ariadne Malfoy was laid to rest in the Malfoy Family Crypt.

“People are coming to the house,” Draco said quietly. “I’m not sure if father is up to it.” Lucius was standing beside the casket where it sat on a stone pedestal waiting for the enclosure to be lowered over it. His hand rested on top of it, his head bowed and his eyes closed.

“I never knew about your grandparents,” she said, her heart aching as she watched him.

“Grandfather died before I was born, Dragon Pox,” Draco explained. “Grandmother moved from the manor into a dowager house for a time until her memories began to fade and she began casting dangerous spells without realizing it, then father took her wand and moved her to a care facility where someone could watch her and keep her safe.”

“He was close to her, clearly,” she said.

“Yes, I think it is why father never gave me too much grief over my attachment to my mother,” Draco said softly. “Sometimes I wonder what was more difficult for him during the war years, being bound to the Dark Lord or having to forgo his visits to grandmother so that she was safe.”

“He seems to regret much of that time, for many reasons,” she said, watching as he laid a shocking pink rose on the casket and stepped back as the enclosure began to lower.

“Are you coming back to the house?” Draco asked.

“The manor or his house?”

“His house, I try not to have large crowds over to the manor, it upsets Scorpius,” he said.

“Yes, I will be there,” she said, moving away from Draco to join Lucius as his mother was enclosed in her final resting place. She felt an odd tingle race up her spine when he reached for her hand and twined his fingers with hers, giving them a gentle squeeze in gratitude for her kindness.
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The Heirloom