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Some Blond Fool	By : AndreaLorraine Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 46886 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
- 19
Author�s Note: Hey
all, (relatively) quick update.� Not much
to say, really, except thanks to those who represented (esp. Margot Le Faye � you�re
the best advertisement I ever heard, hehe). �Also,
you can still sign up for the update list for my fics
by sending a quick e-mail to fbs_updates@yahoo.com.
�In this installment, we discover Lucius�s fate, Rita turns the tables on Narcissa,
we get a little insight into Giacomo Cannavare, and the Weasleys
finally figure out that Hermione is really dating Draco
Malfoy�

�� He didn�t know if it was anxiety or
if he was genuinely losing his ability to breathe.� One thing was certain; even though he was
laying completely still, Lucius�s heart felt like it
was beating out of his chest.

�� He couldn�t say how much time had
passed.� More goddamn waiting, this time
unable to even move to dispel his nerves�it was torture.� This was worse than the Cruciatus.� His mind was running over and over just how
much money he was losing at this very moment.

�� Lucius
wasn�t stupid.� He knew better than to
keep all his money in one place.�
However, of all the places he kept it, Gringotts
was supposed to be the safest, so the largest sum was there.� Of course.� So he wouldn�t be penniless, but the
comfortable cushion of having more money than he could spend in a lifetime
would be gone.

�� He wasn�t as worried about losing
the money as he was about what would be done with it.� The Scattori
brothers and their consigliere clearly had something
planned and they were going to use his
hard-earned (or, hard-inherited) money to fund it.� He didn�t want to be the financier for any nutter�s campaign of terror, and it was increasingly
looking like Milan
would soon erupt into another bloodbath.

�� Malfoy
money was not, and would never be, blood money.�
The fortune had been accrued through smart investing over the
generations, the majority of which were completely legal.� He wouldn�t go so far as to say that it was
all clean money, but he hadn�t been the one to dirty it and he could care less
about those who had.� However, he did
want to keep things as they were.

�� He needed a way to get the money
back.� Maybe he was overreacting; maybe
they would realize that the marriage certificate was fake and arrest Narcissa before she could pocket a single knut.� He could hope, but not very
convincingly.� This wasn�t something she
would botch.� When his ex-wife made up
her mind, she got things done.

�� Okay, he was definitely having
trouble breathing.� It felt like he
couldn�t get enough air, like he was taking in a quarter of what his lungs
could handle.� In combination with his
racing heart, he was beginning to feel lightheaded.� This wasn�t good.

�� But what could he do?� He couldn�t so much
as twitch.� This was really the worst
thing that had ever been done to
him.� And if it got any
worse�God, what agony that would be, slowly suffocating to death.

�� Spurred by that thought, he made a
quick decision. �In six years without a
wand, Lucius hadn�t let himself get rusty.� He exploited his sentence; he couldn�t use a
wand, but that didn�t preclude him using small bits of wandless
magic.� In time, he�d even begun to
practice wordless and wandless magic, and he wasn�t
half bad at it.� If he could make it work
now�

�� Accio phone.� Come
on, accio phone�

�� He heard a swooshing sound and internally
rejoiced; it was the phone slipping across the carpeted floor.� However, he also knew that that was the easy
part.� The summoning charm was one of the
things he�d mastered first.� Other magic
had proved more difficult.

�� He debated.� He could try to call someone, but since he
couldn�t speak, he had no idea how the answering party would react.� He liked to think that they�d recognize a
silent call from him for what it was � an emergency, but he didn�t want to take
a chance.� He could try texting.� But that
would be even more excruciating, requiring the right pressure on many buttons,
many times, and he couldn�t see what he was doing.� He could end up texting
a bunch of jibberish and that wouldn�t do him any
good.

�� The call first.� And if that didn�t work, he�d attempt the
text.� Even if he did send random
letters, the recipient would recognize it as odd and possibly consider checking
on him.� So much was left to chance�

�� He closed his eyes.� Pictured the phone, its long, bright screen, the things he�d have to do to make a call.� Draco, call Draco�and then speaker phone�

�� A wave of dizziness hit him.� He couldn�t fucking
breathe.� Still, the phone was ringing.� He�d managed it through willpower.� He would stay conscious through willpower,
too, as long as he could manage.

�� Hermione nearly jumped ten feet in
the air when a strong vibration tickled her rear end.� Ginny gave her a strange look as she danced
around for a moment before extracting Draco�s phone
from her back pocket.� She�d completely
forgotten about stashing it there when Ginny had owled
to ask if she wanted to come over and help her start designing the nursery.

�� Hermione looked at the screen.� It said �Dad�.� Lucius was calling,
then.� She briefly considered not answering
it, since Lucius wasn�t looking for her, but she
hadn�t spoken to him in a while and it might be nice to talk for a few
minutes.� Poking a hesitant finger to the
screen to answer, she lifted the phone to her ear.

�� Hello,� she said amicably.

�� Silence.

�� Hello?� Lucius, it�s Hermione.� Draco lent me his phone.�

�� Again, silence.� Hermione frowned.

�� Lucius?�

�� Ten excruciating seconds of quiet
followed.� Wait, not
entirely quiet�if she listened hard, she could make out the sound of breathing.� It was shallow and labored.

�� Lucius.� Lucius, are you all right?�
Please answer me.�

�� Ginny glanced up, copper brows
knitting slightly.� Hermione�s stomach
was rapidly tying itself in knots as she listened to the low rasp of breathing.� A moment later her fear quickly solidified
into resolve.

�� I�m coming, Lucius,�
she said, and hung up the phone.

�� Ringing.� On the third, someone answered.� Not who he expected, but still good;
Hermione�s pretty voice drifted to his ears.�
No, he was not bloody well all right!�
Thankfully, she got the message quickly, and her parting words reignited
his hope.

�� I�m coming, Lucius.�

�� Bless that girl and the brain
between her frizzy curls.

��

�� Hermione wasn�t taking chances.� Both Harry and Ginny were with her and all
three had their wands drawn.� She had no
idea what they were getting into, or if Lucius was
even in his flat.� She hoped he was.� Oh, how she hoped he was�but Harry had offered
some hope, saying that muggle mobile phones had
something in them called a GPS, which could be used to track a person�s
location.� If he wasn�t in the flat, they
would have to use the GPS.

�� The door wasn�t warded.� That was very disturbing.� It meant someone had already dismantled the
magical protection.� His face set in a scowl, Harry took two steps backward and then shouldered the
door open with a loud, splintering crack.

�� Hermione and Ginny waited in
strained silence.� A few moments later,
Harry reappeared and nodded tersely.�
They followed him in, wands still raised.� The flat was quiet.

�� The kitchen was undisturbed, as was
the living room.� However, Lucius�s study wasn�t quite right.� Ginny pointed mutely to a crooked drawer,
then to a box on the floor.� Harry picked
it up and frowned before handing it to Hermione.� It was an empty box of wizard checks.

�� Shaking her head, Hermione moved
forward and carefully pushed open the door of his bedroom.� It was dark, but the pale fan of his hair was
impossible to miss on the floor.� She
gasped and ran the few steps to him, tears already starting in her eyes.

�� He was dead.� Sweet Merlin, he was dead, still, frozen, his
eyes open and staring motionlessly up at the ceiling.� Ginny was next to her, her mouth open in
shock.� Harry stood over them, on edge, a
dark look on his face.

�� Oh my God.� Oh�he�s��

�� His neck,� Ginny whispered, �look
at his neck.�

�� She did, taking in the small
pinprick and the ring of purple bruising around it.� �Someone poisoned him.� But who could get this close?� How�� she trailed off, overwhelmed and
stunned.

�� Ow!�
Harry suddenly exclaimed.� Both women
started and turned to him, just in time to see something fall to the
floor.� He was rubbing the back of his
head, perplexed.� �It just smacked into
me.� Do you suppose someone else is
here?� We need to--�

�� Harry, look!�
Hermione interrupted, pointing frantically.�
Behind him, on the wall, words were being spelled out in some
unidentified substance.

N-O-T-D-E-A-D

�� Not dead!� Hermione�s eyes widened.

�� Ginny, take his pulse!� See if he�s breathing!�

�� The letters continued.

P-A-R-A-L-Y-Z-E-D-C-A-N-T-B-R-E-A-T-H-E

�� He has a pulse!� He�s barely breathing, though!� Ginny reported, her face lighting up.

D-Y-I-N-G

�� Okay.� Okay, we�re here, we�re
taking you to St. Mungo�s right now.�� Hermione began
to wrap her arms around his unyielding body when Harry spoke up.

�� Wait, he�s spelling out something
else!�

G-R-I-N-G-O-T-T-S

�� What about Gringotts?� Lucius, what about Gringotts?� Hermione beseeched.

N-A-R-C-I

�� And then the letters stopped.

�� Narci?� Narcissa?�
Harry said, confused.

�� No time!� Ginny practically
shouted.� �He�s not breathing!�

�� With a frustrated sigh, Harry
wrapped his arms around both women, who were securely anchored to Lucius, and apparated.� And, as they landed in the main entrance of
St. Mungo�s, he realized that this was the second
time in twice as many months that he�d shown up with a Malfoy
on the verge of death in tow.

�� You�re insane!� Rita Skeeter panted, cowering in the corner of the pantry.� Narcissa advanced
on her without hesitation.� They had
chased each other around the small space for several minutes, and she had at
last managed to back the woman into the corner.�
She was so angry that she didn�t even feel her ankle; rage gave her
adrenaline and dulled the pain.

�� I�m
insane?� she shouted.� �I don�t make up
lies!� I don�t profit from other people�s
mistakes, or awkward moments, or misfortunes!�
I don�t pay prostitutes to drug men so that they�ll cheat on their
wives!�� She still couldn�t believe that; regardless of how stupid the Weasley boy was and how glad she was that he�d mucked it up
with Hermione (giving Draco the in he needed), that
was low even for Skeeter.

�� No!� she shot back.� �You
sit back while your psychotic hubby murders people!�

�� People in glass houses shouldn�t
throw stones,� Narcissa snarled.� �And for your information, Lucius never killed anyone.�
That�s more than can be said for your
fine example of a spouse!�

�� That�s what he�s told you, is it?� Skeeter sniffed derisively.�
�What do you think went on in the service of the Dark Lord?� Tea parties?�

�� What do you think goes on in your little Mafia game?�

�� Rita�s eyes narrowed.� �The family is about mutual prosperity.� We�re not trying to rid the world of anyone
we consider beneath us.� People get
themselves into trouble when they cross us; they aren�t born with a strike
already against them.� We�re not
supporting a madman.� It isn�t eugenics,
you thick wench!�

�� Maybe it was about that once, but
look around, Rita, you are supporting
a madman!� And I�ll have you know, he�s
trying to implicate your family in
the things he is doing!�� Narcissa stomped
her foot, irritated at the woman�s inability to see things for what they
were.� �He just locked you in here!� He�s probably hoping I�ll kill you to save
him the bother!� He threw you aside like
you were nothing.�� She jabbed a
long-nailed finger at Rita�s face.� �At
least my husband came after me.�

�� And that was probably the cruelest
thing she could ever say to the blonde across from her.� She felt no remorse whatsoever; she deserved
it.� She had shattered many marriages and
friendships.� Narcissa
didn�t feel bad returning the favor, though it was obvious that Rita and Gaetano�s marriage had been on the rocks for some time �
even if Rita was oblivious to that fact.

�� In spite of herself, she felt a
small frisson of sympathy when the curly-haired woman burst into tears.� She certainly wasn�t going to comfort
her.� She could feel some small pity,
though, for a woman who had been so thoroughly betrayed by her husband.� After all, she had recently experienced the
exact same thing with her fianc�.�

�� Narcissa
was ready to back off.� She was ready to
sit on the opposite end of the pantry and watch while Rita had herself a good
cry.� But that wasn�t meant to be,
because Rita�s face filled with a venomous expression and she spoke,

�� Your
pretty husband is dead, Narcissa.�

�� Her brain balked at the words.� �What?�

�� Rita�s furor gained speed.� �I poisoned him.� Right about now, he
should be slowly suffocating to death as his diaphragm stops working.�

�� You�re lying,� Narcissa
whispered, eyes wide.�
That was what this woman did.� She
lied.� It wasn�t true.� She was bluffing.� She had
to be bluffing.

�� No, I can even tell you the name of
the poison.� It�s called pancuronium.� They
use it for euthanasia, you know, and lethal injections�� At that moment, Rita Skeeter
was malice personified.� She went on,
softly and viciously, �Poor Lucius, dying all alone,
thinking the woman he loves is the one who betrayed and murdered him��

�� It�s not true!� Narcissa
shouted, tears pooling in her eyes.

�� He�s dead and he deserves it.� Though I personally believe the Dementor�s Kiss would have been a much more satisfying way
for him to go��

�� Narcissa
was numb.� Literally, her entire body had
lost feeling; it all went to her chest, where it congealed and swelled until it
could no longer be contained.� It felt
like a bone snapping, like a ligament tearing.�
Now she knew it wasn�t just a euphemism when they said someone died of a
broken heart, because hers was in pieces.

��

�� Giacomo Cannavare sighed and ran his hands through his hair.� Fucking Gaetano.� It was only the Scattori
family�s meager numbers and Gaetano�s position in
maintaining the bond with the Mancinis that had kept
him from recommending to Lorenzo that his brother be discretely dealt
with.� Hell, right now he wouldn�t mind
doing it himself.

�� He had warned Lorenzo.� He had told him that he was hoping against
hope that his brother�s fit of ruinous ambition in the eighties was a one-time
event.� All they had to do was look at
the history of any mob family; they were replete with backstabbings
and jealous murders.� He had just watched
as Gaetano used his own wife (malignant as she was) to
steal another man�s fortune, and then cast her by the wayside.� Lorenzo was next, no matter how nicely Gaetano was playing so far.

�� He knew his type.� They always had an agenda.� They would use the people around them until
they no longer provided any benefit and then they would move on.� People like Gaetano
left a storm of destruction in their wake.

�� It was already happening.� Gaetano had
effectively destroyed Giacomo�s chance at marrying Narcissa.� She would
never come back to him now, not when she thought he�d betrayed her.� Not when he�d kept secrets from her.� It wouldn�t have been an issue if things had
continued as they were before Gaetano�s reappearance;
Lorenzo rarely needed his advice and Desiderio was
similarly level-headed.� The two were an
excellent team.

�� Giacomo
had been waiting his whole damn life to marry a woman he loved.� He�d been recruited into the mob at the age
of 20 and for the first two years, he had never been entirely sure of his
footing in the organization.� Any little
mistake with Saturnino could have been the end of
him.� Luckily, the Scattori
patriarch had loved him like a third son, and made it well known to
everyone.� However, there had been no
pretty cousin to match him to and women feared becoming involved with a made
man; he had spent the greater part of his adult life alone, or in company that
offered pleasure but little else.� In Narcissa he had at last found a woman who was smart, witty,
attractive, and passionate.� That was
about all a man could ask for in a partner.

�� That was why he had pursued her so
diligently and even stooped to snatching her from an ambivalent husband.� He did feel a bit guilty over it, but not
guilty enough to form any regret or surrender her.� If Lucius Malfoy was too stupid to recognize the gem he had, then it
was not his fault.

�� Now it was shot to hell.� Gaetano had forced
his hand.� He had to pretend to go along
with him, for Lorenzo�s sake.� His wife Jocasta�s life hung in the balance.� He�d been able to negotiate an exchange, Narcissa for Jocasta, under the
guise of a d�tente between the brothers.�
He had correctly guessed that Narcissa would
be a more valuable prisoner.� He prayed
that Gaetano was only interested in her money.

�� He had already talked it over with
Lorenzo and Desiderio.� If Gaetano�s goal
was to rid Milan
of the Mancinis, then they had no worry over losing
the loyalty of the family they already had.�
However, the Mancinis outnumbered Gaetano and his few supporters by a great many, so he must
have some kind of trump card.� He had something
up his sleeve, and they couldn�t act until they knew what it was.

�� He hated to do this.� He knew Narcissa
was strong; she had proven to be fierce when threatened or provoked.� His sore nether regions proved that.� She was also very intelligent, though he
often pretended not to notice so that she would think that he wasn�t on par
with it.� She had no idea how smart he
was, and he had every idea how smart she
was.� She would survive.� She would get through whatever ill treatment
befell her until Giacomo could free her.� It wouldn�t take long, if all went to
plan.� But he wasn�t sure that she would
be able to forgive him when all was said and done�because already, he wasn�t
sure if he could forgive himself.� �

�� Draco
suffered a jaw-cracking yawn. �He had
known the doctorate would be chock full of research, but he would rather be
brewing today.� Needing to not kill
himself with volatile ingredients would do a better job of keeping him awake.

�� Only Henric
and Isamu were bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. �Everyone who had gone out looked a bit like a
zombie.� It was completely worth it, of
course, and he didn�t regret it in spite of the odd run-in with Seamus Finnigan.

�� Telly was
asleep on the book he�d been reading.�
Gabriel and Ernesto were managing to get something done, albeit slowly
and painstakingly.� Chelsea looked slightly glazed; her eyes were
on her book, but they weren�t moving.�
Ryan was taking notes and David was doing the �I�m trying not to fall
asleep� head jerk across from him.� For
his part, Draco had managed to find a few books that
might be useful, and though he wrote down the titles and page numbers, he
couldn�t be bothered to actually read the articles right now.

�� He looked at Henric
and Isamu.� They were sitting together,
looking very studious indeed.� Eight
hours of sleep could do that, Draco thought
wryly.� However, in getting their eight
hours of sleep, they had missed out on the bonding that had taken place the
night before.� There was no more awkward
unfamiliarity among those who had gone out.�
It had dissolved just like that, with a little beer, a little dancing,
and a little late-night conversation when they got back.

�� Now the two men were at a
disadvantage.� Once a group formed, it
was hard to break in.� It was now or
never for them.� Making up his mind, Draco closed his book and walked over to their table.

�� Both of them looked up at him
expectantly.� Henric,
in particular, wore an expression that told him he�d best state his case
quickly and be gone.� Draco
ignored the irritation it raised in him and tried to be nice.� He sat down at the end of the table.

�� So, what topics are you guys
thinking about for your dissertations?�

�� To his surprise, Isamu spoke first,
and with some enthusiasm.

�� Oh, I�m quite interested in the
research that�s going on for organ-growing potions.� Do you know, if they can perfect the formula,
they can grow new nervous systems for people?�

�� Wow,� Draco
said, suitably impressed.� He hadn�t
heard that.� �Is there much data?�

�� A fair amount.� I hope to make my own contributions,� Isamu
nodded.

�� Draco
looked toward Henric.�
The German stared back.

�� At that moment, Finley Greene
entered the room.� Ryan threw a wad of
paper at Telly, who woke with a snort.� The tall Alchemist (for that was what they
called someone who had a doctorate in potions) smiled slightly and said,

�� As you were.�� He moved over toward the table where Draco sat in an interesting stalemate with Henric and relative ease with Isamu.� �Draco, a letter
came for you a few minutes ago.� The owl
was very insistent.�� Greene held up a
bandaged finger.� �It bit me when I
didn�t get up to bring it to you right away, so I figured it must be
important.�

�� Draco
grimaced.� �I�m sure it�s nothing.� Sorry about the bird.�

�� Greene shrugged, supremely
unconcerned.� �Let me know if you need
anything.�� He surveyed the room briefly
and said, �Good work, everyone.�� Then he
glided into the stacks, making himself scarce in the massive library.

�� With a sigh, Draco
opened the letter.� And as he read it, he
knew the color was draining from his face.�
It was happening again.

�� What is it?� Isamu asked.

�� Is everything all right?� Chelsea echoed.

�� Draco
re-folded the note and reached for some composure.� �No.�
My father is in the hospital.� He
almost died.�

�� You have to go see him, man,� Telly said.� �We�ll
tell Greene where you went.�

�� Draco
nodded.� �You�re right.� Okay.�
I�I guess I�ll floo.�� His thoughts were scattering in a dozen
different directions; he might splinch himself if he
tried to apparate.

�� Henric
broke his silence at last.� �Do give
Daddy Death Eater our regards,� he said frostily.

�� The slam of Draco�s
notebook against the table made everyone in the room jump, and it echoed off
the high ceilings of the library.� He
leaned into Henric�s personal space, his face not
three inches from the other man�s.�

�� I am sick and tired of your silent
accusation, Henric,� he enunciated.� �Do you think I wanted it?� I was sixteen.� I had no choice.�� Rage was steadily building inside Draco.� He was done
with blame, just done.� �Did you ever see
him?� Did you ever stand before Voldemort?� No. ��He�s just some kind of legend to you,� he
spat.� �You have never heard his
voice.� You have never felt his cold hand
on your shoulder, or his magic burning into your very soul while he used Cruciatus on you, or worse.�
You never had the lives of your family held over you.� You never watched your friends die.� You never had to live every day of your life
in constant fear that you were going
to die.� You have no idea of what the
circumstances were or what it was like, so until you do, which will be never, I
suggest you keep your mouth shut.�

�� And as for my father, well, he�s
made his share of mistakes.� I can�t deny
that.� But have you never made a
mistake?� Are you perfect?� Have you never fallen for something that
turned out to be a lie?� You don�t know
my dad.� He isn�t what people think he is.� I love him and I�m proud of him, end of story.� So don�t you breathe a word against him, Henric, not in my presence, because I will defend him and I can guarantee that that�s a fight you can�t
win,� he finished with a snarl.

�� What�s going on here?� Greene�s
voice rang out in the silence after Draco�s tirade.

�� Henric is
being an asshole,� Telly supplied bluntly.

�� What�s the problem, Mr. Faust?�

�� I didn�t know when I was accepted
to this program that I would have to work alongside people like him,� the man in question replied,
thrusting a finger at Draco.� �He should be in prison.�

�� I was tried like everyone else, you
son of a bitch,� Draco shot back.� �If I should
have been in prison, they would have sent me there.�

�� They clearly made a mistake,� Henric said between his teeth.

�� Think what you want.�� Draco turned and
began to stalk away.� Then, as another
thought struck him, he turned back.�
�You�re so eager to condemn.� What
did I ever do to you?� I guess I offend
you with my very existence, with my audacity to try to do the same things as
you.� Sounds an awful lot like Death
Eater philosophy, doesn�t it?�

�� Henric�s
chair clattered to the ground as he stood up abruptly.� �Don�t you dare--�

�� But he was interrupted by Greene,
who barked, �Enough!� Draco,
go where you�re going.� Henric, outside
with me.� NOW.�

�� Draco had
already turned his back on the situation.�
He knew he was walking the wrong way to escape the library, but for now
just removing himself from the immediate conflict was what he needed.� He wound his way deep into the stacks until
he had no idea where he was.� Then he
leaned against the musty books and breathed.

�� Would it never stop?� He supposed not; people had long
memories.� But six and a half years had
gone by.� He had done so much to distance
himself from all that he used to be.� And
if people in Britain
could forgive him, the people that were closest to the war, who lost the most,
what was wrong with the rest of the world?�
He supposed it was ignorance.� Not
having a face to put to an accusation.�
He was just a flat character to people like Henric,
a remorseless villain who had escaped the fate he deserved through money or wiles
or both.

�� Hell, he knew better than most how
easily people could judge without knowing all the facts.� He shouldn�t let it get to him so much.� It was his karmic return, he supposed, for
voicing his less-than-educated (and often unkind) opinion so much in his
youth.� He wouldn�t be the type who could
dish it out but not take it.� Draco took a deep breath, willing it all to slip away.� There were more important things to deal with
right now.

�� He stood up straight and smoothed an
imaginary wrinkle out of his shirt.� Then
he turned, and nearly had a heart attack, because David was standing right
there.

�� Sorry,� he said immediately.� �Didn�t mean to spook you.�

�� It�s all right.� I wasn�t paying attention.��

�� I wanted to see if you, like�need
moral support, or something.�

�� Draco had
to smile.� Men were so dismal at this
kind of thing, himself included.� Still, it meant a lot that David cared enough
to track him down and offer his awkward backing.

�� No, I�ll be fine,� he breathed,
willing it to be true.� He would.� It could be worse.� He could be in prison, his father could be
dead.� There was always something worse.

�� You sure?�

�� Draco
turned.� Gabriel and Ernesto were
standing there.� He nodded at them.

�� Forget Henric
and whatever crawled up his ass and died,� Ryan muttered, shuffling up behind
David.� �Go see your dad.�

�� We can make it a class trip.�� That was from Telly,
who appeared at the other end of the aisle.�
�I always wanted to go to England.�

�� All you�ll see is the inside of a
hospital,� Draco murmured.� Telly shrugged.� Chelsea
was next to him, quiet and a little pale.�
His eyes stayed on her; if anyone had understood the content of the
exchange between him and Henric, it was Chelsea.� He didn�t think the others had any idea of
what they had spoken of.

�� She offered a small smile.� Somehow, that made him feel
better.� She knew what he was, what he�d
been, what it all meant � and she was still there, silently supporting
him.� This wasn�t going to change things.� This wasn�t going to ruin the friendships
he�d forged, like it sometimes had in the past.�
Fighting a lump in his throat, Draco said,

�� No, I�m fine to go alone.� I appreciate it, though.�

�� Rain check, then,� Telly said.� �And
tell your pops that there�s no dying allowed.�
Dying is for pussies.�

�� And you say I�m bad,� Ernesto snorted.� Chelsea punched Telly in the arm.

�� I�ll be sure to pass that on to
him,� Draco chuckled.�
�Thanks, guys.�

�� In retrospect, Ginny thought, she
ought to have been a little more specific with her letter.� Her parents were due over an hour after
Hermione�s arrival, so that her mother could help with the nursery
designs.� When it became obvious that she
wasn�t going to be home by then, she had sent a letter.� It said �Had to go to the hospital, will
reschedule tomorrow.�

�� They had of course jumped to the
worst conclusion and thought that something was wrong with the baby.� So, her entire family was now crowding the
waiting room.� And she wasn�t kidding
when she said it was everyone.� They were
there in all their glory; her mother, her father, Charlie, Bill, Percy, George,
and Ron.� And most of them weren�t happy.

�� Why would they be?� They had all dropped whatever they were doing
to rush here, thinking that she was in danger and would need their support, and
who did they find?� Lucius
Malfoy.� And it
was safe to say that he was not their favorite person.� However, something strange was
happening.� Hermione�s obvious worry was
kicking her mum�s mother hen instincts into high gear.

�� Honestly, he�s getting into more scrapes
than a Gryffindor lately,� Molly was whispering to Hermione.� �And I ought to know, I raised seven of
them!� This is what happens when men
don�t have a good woman around to keep them out of trouble!�

�� I just can�t believe this happened
even when he�s got his wand,� Hermione whispered back, clearly beside herself.

�� What is that ex-wife of his doing?�
He�s obviously lost without her, like Arthur would be without me��

�� Ginny rolled her eyes and tuned the
two of them out.� Their clucking would
soon be overruled by utter scandal.�
Because, when Draco arrived and Hermione flung
herself into his arms, the reality of their relationship would finally be outed to Ron � and every other Weasley,
to whom she was as much a family member as Ginny was. �

�� Draco walked
through the doors of St. Mungo�s and bypassed the
information counter.� He knew where he
was going.� He had, after all, spent
nearly a month on the poisoning ward not so long ago.� His feet guided him easily as he mentally
prepared himself to see his father near death yet again.

�� So, he was not at all prepared for
the sea of redheads that greeted him.� He
stopped short in the doorway of the waiting room, blinking in confusion.� He was nearly ready to turn around and
retrace his steps, to make sure he was in the right place, but at that moment
Hermione burst out of the crowd.

�� Draco!� Oh, thank goodness you�re here!�� She launched herself into his arms, planting
a kiss on his lips and then leaning her face against his chest.

�� He wrapped his arms around her, but
was keenly aware of all the freckled faces that had just turned to him.� He swallowed.

�� Yeah,� he said lamely, �wouldn�t
miss it for the world.�

�� Not even two seconds passed before
ten voices simultaneously erupted in shouting � the loudest of which belonged
to one Ronald Bilius Weasley.

�� Arthur had discretely slipped into
the hospital room, needing a moment to escape the absolute pandemonium beyond
the door.� Personally, he didn�t really
care who Hermione dated, as long as he made her happy and treated her
well.� His own son had botched that up,
and in light of that, what right did he have to deny Draco
Malfoy a chance?�
The boy had obviously changed.

�� Arthur took a long glance at Lucius.� He was still
in the hospital bed, his face pale, with some type of breathing apparatus in
his mouth.� He wondered if Lucius had changed as much as his son.� People said he had, but Arthur was highly
suspicious.

�� Lost in his contemplation, he didn�t
notice that the other man�s eyelids had lifted.�
When he finally realized that Lucius was
awake, his cool blue eyes looking right at him, Arthur was mildly flummoxed.

�� Oh�er�I�ll
call for the nurse,� he said, taking a step toward the door.� A movement of Lucius�s
arm stopped him.� He couldn�t speak
through the breathing apparatus, apparently.�
Cautiously, Arthur approached.

�� Lucius
looked up at him with clear eyes and made a motion with his hand.� It looked like he was drawing squiggles in
the air.� Ah, he wanted to write in lieu
of speaking.� Just to be sure, Arthur
said,

�� You want something to write on?�

�� Lucius
nodded.� Arthur turned and looked around
for something, smirking as an errant thought entered his mind.� He liked Lucius a
lot better this way � mute.� His mouth
had always been his sharpest weapon, after all.�
He found some sturdy paper towels that would serve as paper and he had a
muggle pen in his pocket; he liked them better than
quills, as they had their own self-contained ink.

�� Wondering where this would go, he
handed both off to the other man.� To his
surprise Lucius had no trouble with the pen, clicking
it open and beginning to write with a hand that was only slightly clumsy.� He had left it retracted just for the moment
of amusement it might proffer in watching Lucius
struggle with it.� So it was true what
they said, that he�d been mugglized.

�� Lucius
finished and held up the paper towel.�

What the hell is going on?� It sounds like a riot out there.

�� Arthur bit back a smile.� The other man wasn�t far off the mark.

�� Ah, well, the majority of my family
has just discovered that Hermione is dating your son.��

�� The only evidence of a reaction was
the slight raise of Lucius�s eyebrows.� He set the paper towel back down and began
writing again.

In that case, I am still unconscious.

�� This time Arthur did smile.� �Lucky bastard.�� Lucius had already
set down the pen and closed his eyes, doing a very convincing impersonation of
unconsciousness.� Arthur picked up his
pen and tucked it into his pocket.� �I�ll
let the nurses and healers know you�re awake once Armageddon dies down.�

�� No sooner had he turned than a
shrill voice rang out.

�� Arthur!!!�

�� He walked out of the room just in
time to see Ron and Harry staring one another down, looking as though they
might come to blows.

�� A curious calm had descended over Lucius.� He wondered
if he was drugged.� But from the moment
he had regained consciousness, all the panic was gone.� He knew it was too late to prevent the money
from being taken.� He had one option and
one option only: figuring out how to get it � and his wife � back.� Because that woman, whoever she was�was not Narcissa.� He was
certain that conversing with the goblins from Gringotts
would prove it.� And after he did that,
he was going to have a little chat with Kingsley Shacklebolt.� Pieces were already sliding into place in his
mind.� No one struck Lucius
Malfoy so many times without him striking back.� And it was no bother at all that he had to go
through slightly more lawful channels than usual.� In fact, he sort of relished the challenge of
it.� Vengeance would be that much sweeter
if it was mostly legal - emphasis on mostly.

�� Harry was nose to nose with
Ron.� He certainly had his issues with Draco, but Hermione could make up her own mind.� She always had.� And really, her judgment was usually better
than anyone else Harry knew.�

�� Calm down, Ron,� he said, trying to
cool his friend down.

�� Are you kidding?� It�s him,
Harry, the ferret, and he�s just using her!� Ron bellowed.

�� Last I checked, Weasley,
you broke her heart and divorced her, so I don�t think you have any grounds to
be territorial,� Draco shot back, already primed for
verbal combat by the spat with Henric.

�� Malfoy,
shut up.� Let me talk to him,� Harry
warned.

�� No.�
His issue is with me.� You
shouldn�t have to stand in the middle.�

�� Harry gave him a look like he had
suddenly sprouted a few extra limbs.

�� Oh, yeah, and aren�t you just the
greatest, swooping in when she�s vulnerable and taking advantage of her!� Ron
accused, having not even heard the exchange between Harry and Draco.

�� Ron!� Hermione shouted.� Her voice gave everyone pause.� Harry took one look at her and braced
himself.� Stormclouds
were gathering in her eyes.� He knew that
look.� It was the look she�d had when she
had first found out that Ron had cheated and thought that he had kept it from
her.

�� For Merlin�s sake!� she said, just
as loudly, stalking closer and elbowing Harry out of the way.� Now she was nose to nose with Ron, whose face
was going from bright red to an unhealthy shade of pale.� Ron knew that he was in for it.

�� You never respected me, Ronald Weasley!� I am not weak, or stupid, or too dumb to
understand my own emotions!�

�� I never said that!� Ron protested.

�� Not out loud!� But what is this you�re doing now?� Questioning my choice, acting like I�m some
poor defenseless twit being strung along by the evil Malfoy.� I don�t need your protection, Ronald, and
frankly I don�t want your concern.� You
can take your opinion and shove it, because I�m happy and that should be all
that matters to you!�

�� You think you�re happy,� Ron muttered darkly.� �But what happens when he screws you over for
some pureblood bitch?� You can�t honestly
think he�s going to choose you.� You�re
just a muggleborn.�

�� Everyone in the room groaned.� They knew that that was the absolute wrong
thing to say.� Ron had, once again, not
just put his foot in his mouth, but possibly his entire leg.

�� OH!�
Is that so?� I�m just a muggleborn!� Not good
enough for ANY of you, hmm?� she shouted.�
�Is that how YOU feel, Harry?�

�� No!� he said emphatically.�

�� And you?� she whirled on the other Weasley brothers, spearing them with her gaze one by
one.� Thankfully, George seemed to have
been gifted with all the common sense Ron lacked.

�� No, Hermione.� I�d say you�re TOO good for every last one of
us.�

�� Good God,� Draco
murmured in the silence that followed, with a hand against his forehead.� �I just want to see my father.�

�� That was the opportunity that Arthur
and Molly needed.� Molly bustled forward.

�� This is neither the time nor the place!� Draco�s father has
been hurt and the last thing he needs is to deal with this shenanigans!� Imagine if it was your father!� Honestly!� she huffed.

�� We actually like our father,� Ron sniped, not entirely finished with his
temper.

�� That�s enough, Ronald,� Arthur
barked.� �I don�t want to hear another
word.� Hermione is right.� You gave up your right to be involved with
her decisions when you decided to divorce her.�
It�s best if you accept that.�

�� You can�t seriously be all right
with this!� Ron protested.

�� Hermione is a grown woman, one of
the smartest I know.� I trust her
judgment.� I am happy if Hermione is
happy, and from what I can tell, the only thing making her unhappy right now is
you.�

�� And that
finally, finally shut Ron up. �
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