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Hungry Thirsty Crazy	By : AndreaLorraine Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 47434 -:- 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
- 28
- 29
- 30
Author�s
Note: Hey everyone.� This chapter was
growing to epic proportions so I decided its events would have to be split into
two chapters.� You do get your answer as
to who the killer is, if not an immediate resolution.� I promise I won�t keep you waiting too long
for part 2.� In the meantime, enjoy!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

�� Tiresias
emerged from the dimly lit hospital room and blinked against the fluorescent
lights in the hallway.� It was late and
the corridor was deserted save for the nursing station a few yards down.� A yawn overtook him and he indulged in a good
stretch; perhaps a cup of decaf coffee was on the agenda before flooing back to Vancouver.

�� He walked to the end of the hallway,
nodding at the bored nurses.� It took
only a few seconds for the lift to arrive.�
Since it was late, he didn�t think anyone would be on the lift, but he
was wrong; when the door opened, he nearly walked into a pretty brunette.

�� I�m sorry, excuse me,� he
apologized, backtracking and stepping aside to let her out.� She nodded, but didn�t move.

�� He stood there for half a minute,
waiting.� She remained on the threshold
of the elevator.� Tiresias
took a minute to appraise her more carefully since there was little else to do
in the moment of awkwardness.

�� She was tall, lean but feminine,
with pale skin and sharp, striking features.�
Aristocratic, almost.� Her hair was dark and curly, gathered into a
ponytail that fell far past her shoulders.�
Most interestingly, she was clutching a small stack of parchment to her
chest.

�� Are you going to get off?� he asked
softly.

�� She swallowed.� �No.��
Then she took a step back into the elevator.� Cautiously, Tiresias
followed, trying to figure her out.

�� Down?� he questioned, his hand
hovering over the button.

�� She only nodded.� He pressed the button for the ground
floor.� They rode in silence, Tiresias sneaking curious glances at her the entire
time.�

�� It took all of thirty seconds.� Then the lift slowed and the doors slid open,
revealing the lobby.� Again, she made no
move to get off the elevator.� Tiresias stepped out, mind racing, wondering what it was
that she feared that simultaneously kept her from seeing whoever she was here
for and leaving.

�� He pivoted abruptly.� �Would you like to--�

�� But he was cut off by the doors of
the lift snapping shut.� Just before they
shut her away from him, she lifted her head and made eye contact.� He saw a lot in that moment; she was angry,
she was afraid, and she was grateful.� He
stood there, staring at the door and listening to the melodic pinging of the
elevator as it ascended back to the fifth floor.

�� Then he registered the sound of
someone chuckling.� Tiresias
turned and saw one of the security guards smiling.

�� Hey, mate,� the heavyset man spoke
up, �she was pretty.� I don�t blame you
for trying.�

�� With a slight flush, he nodded.� Then, shoving his hands in his pockets, he
headed for the floo stations, his cup of coffee
entirely forgotten.

�� She rode the elevator sixteen
times.� No matter how she tried, she
could not get off.� She hated this
hospital, any hospital.� She hated what
happened to people to get them here.

�� She didn�t really know why she�d
come, anyway.� It was three in the
morning.� Lucius
would not be awake.� Ah, but perhaps that
was why she had only been able to work up the courage to come now.

�� Who did he think he was?� What made him think that one letter was enough to
make her forgive?� Her hands squeezed and
crumpled the parchment for what must have been the tenth time.� Were there no bounds to his arrogance?

�� People had minds of their own.� He could not excuse Narcissa.� He was not some martyr, taking the
responsibility for her actions.� She knew
well enough that the Black women could think for themselves � after all, she
was one of them.

�� Seventeen was a charm.� It had to be.�
Steeling herself, Andromeda stepped off the elevator.

�� Perhaps she hoped to kiss him
without waking him, but that was all but impossible.� Lucius opened his
eyes.� A concerned pair of doe eyes
hovered above him, fringed by long lashes.

�� You shouldn�t be here,� he
whispered.

�� I know,� Hermione said.� �I just wanted to see you.�� Her hand stroked his slightly tangled
hair.� �I didn�t want you to think you
were alone.�

�� I know I�m not.�

�� There was a quiet lull, one in which
he enjoyed her attention, eyes closed.

�� You scared the hell out of me,� she
said at last.

�� I
scared the hell out of you?� Last I checked, I didn�t attack myself.�

�� She gave him a gentle nudge.� �You know what I mean.�

�� He nodded.� �Were you in the villa?�

�� No.�

�� The slight crease of his brows was
the only thing that gave away his apprehension.�
�Then�where?�

�� I was dealing with the person who
revealed us to Harry.� It was someone who
works in forensics at the Ministry.�
Someone I went to school with.� We
didn�t get along.�

�� Blackmail?�

�� Yes.�� Hermione sighed.� Lucius moved over
in the less-than-roomy hospital bed and patted the mattress.� Hermione climbed in without hesitation,
molding herself against his side.

�� Well, just tell me what you
need.� If it�s money, you know where the
checkbook is.�

�� I gave her what she wanted,� she
sighed.� �But I don�t know if it will be
enough.� And really, Lucius,
I�m not sure I care anymore.� I�m past
the hardest part.�

�� He knew she meant the confrontation
with Potter.� �If it�s your desire to go
public, then I won�t object.� I just
worry about the toll it will take on you.�

�� It�s not like we have a
choice.� Either she�s going to contact
the Prophet or she�s not.� I have no
control over it.�

�� He hugged her to him, pondering the
situation.� �What happened between you
and this girl?�

�� I don�t want to talk about it.�

�� Fair enough.�� He kissed her forehead.� �You know, Hermione, you aren�t unarmed in
this fight.� You said she works in
forensics.� The Minister ordered that
evidence destroyed.� She disobeyed a
direct order.� You could easily cause her
to lose her job and her credibility if she chooses to continue down this path.�

�� So I should blackmail her back?�
she responded, a trace of amusement in her voice.

�� It was a just a suggestion.�

�� She moved closer to him, draping a
leg over his midsection.� �I love you.�

�� I am frequently mystified as to
why.�

�� Shut up.�

�� I love you, too.��

�� Andromeda stepped away from the
door, mind reeling.� She was not
suffering from a hallucination; she had
just seen Lucius Malfoy and
Hermione Granger lying together, kissing, touching, and�discussing their secret
relationship.

�� A jolt of d�j� vu hit her like a
truck.� Her hands began to shake.� That was exactly
what it had been like in the earliest days with Ted.� Always hidden, always fearing that they would
be revealed, yet every moment spiraling deeper and deeper into a love that
couldn�t be denied�

�� She had to sit down.� She walked to the far end of the corridor,
where Hermione wouldn�t see her when she emerged.� Andromeda sat there so long, head in hands, that a nurse came up to her and asked if she was all
right.

�� Yes, thank you.� I�m just�stressed, you know.�

�� The nurse nodded
sympathetically.� She disappeared and
returned a few moments later with a cup of water and a small package of graham
crackers.� Andromeda accepted them with a
smile.� She had no interest in the snack,
but the water was welcome; she suddenly felt very thirsty.

�� After downing it, she smoothed out
the parchment in her hands.� Until now,
she had believed it to be pure bullshit, an attempt on Lucius�s
part to assist his ex-wife with getting back into her sister�s good graces.� Her eyes scanned the elegantly scrawled
words.

In spite of whatever has happened in the
past, Narcissa loves you.� Please forgive her.� Someone has recently given me the precious
gift of forgiveness and it is more valuable than anything else I could ever
hope to possess.� If we cannot forgive
one another, then this war was truly without victory.

�� It was Hermione.� Hermione was the one who had forgiven him.

As purebloods we were taught from a young
age that family is the most important thing, second only to purity.� Some of us were able to see the paradox in
that sooner than others.� Now we have the
chance to right the priorities that were so perverted by these wars and the
lingering touch of supremacy.� That will
never happen if those of us in the wrong aren�t given the chance to atone for
our mistakes.

�� Rhetoric.� But coming from him, in light of what she knew�Lucius
really believed this.� It was sincere.

�� She bit her tongue.� It was momentous.� He had been one of the most vehemently
racist, classist, elitist
bastards she had ever had the misfortune of being acquainted with.� The man in the hospital bed who agreed to be outed to the public in the midst of a love affair with a Muggleborn was not the same.� Lucius had changed.

�� Everything
had changed.� For the first time in a
long time, the fierce woman inside her was stirred.� She would not allow the pressures of the
world to come between the mismatched couple down the hall.� She would not allow anyone to tell them they
were wrong, because she had never allowed anyone to tell her that she and Ted
were wrong.� Love was love.

�� She stood up and walked back to his
room.� Hermione was still there.� They were kissing slowly, sensually, utterly
absorbed in one another.� Any doubts she
might have had about Lucius�s true feelings or
intentions were dashed.� A man didn�t
kiss a woman like that unless he loved her.

�� That settled it.� She was going to figure out whom that little
blackmailing tart was and teach her a lesson about interfering with love.� And after that, she would owl Narcissa.

�� Lucius
woke in the morning to a far less exciting visitor.� Dawlish was reading
a magazine in the chair across from him.�
Lucius supposed he must really be bored if he
was reading a two-month-old copy of Witch Weekly.� He cleared his throat to alert the Auror that he was awake.

�� Dawlish
promptly dropped the magazine.� �Ah,
you�re awake.� Good morning.�

�� Good morning.�

�� The Auror
appraised him.� �The arm looks good.�

�� Yes, the healers did a remarkable
job.�� Lucius
wiggled his fingers to prove it; they were already more coordinated than they
had been last night.� Still not perfect,
but the improvement was encouraging.

�� It must have been quite a fight.�

�� Lucius
shrugged.� It was all sort of a
blur.� He remembered everything, but it
had already begun to take on that feeling of surrealism.� In a few weeks he would be asking himself if
it had really happened at all.

�� Well, I�m going to need your
statement, if you feel up to giving it,� the Auror
said, shifting in his seat and pulling out a quill and a small notepad.� �If not, I can come back later.�

�� Now is fine.� But if I may ask...my healer mentioned that
you were able to identify the killer?�

�� In a manner of
speaking.�� Dawlish
tapped the quill absently on his thigh.�
�Upon first analysis, the blood sample we obtained appeared to be from
Aloysius Pound, the editor of the Critiquill.� We took DNA samples during his arrest last
week.� I�m sure you know that we had to
let him go, since we had no evidence to keep him there.�

�� So it was him?�

�� Dawlish
shook his head.� �We re-tested the blood
a few hours later, which is a standard precaution to rule out Polyjuice usage.� It
wasn�t Pound�s.�

�� Someone is framing him.�

�� Exactly.� The trouble is, we didn�t
find a match in the system for the donor blood.�

�� I assume you looked into the
Chameleon robe permits?�

�� Indeed,� Dawlish
said, with a nod to Lucius�s cleverness.� �There is only one person who has a robe
permit of that type and close enough access to Pound to obtain the materials
necessary for Polyjuice.�

�� And that is?�

�� His ex-wife, who
happens to be one of the star reviewers for his magazine.�

�� Lucius
frowned.� He wouldn�t have guessed that
his assaulter was a woman, but that was the wonder of Polyjuice.

�� Then we have to take into account
that the unidentified blood sample we have belongs to a male, not a
female.� We�re left with some questions.�

�� I would say so.�

�� We have a good idea of who it might
be,� Dawlish said.�
�We just have to lure him out.�

�� Lucius
eyed the Auror for a moment.� He didn�t even want to know what plans Dawlish was cooking up, for they certainly involved placing
him in danger.� The few important people
in his life would not be pleased with that.�
He would let it slide for now.

�� All right.� My statement?�

�� I�m ready when you are.�� Dawlish lifted the
quill, and Lucius began to talk.

��

�� Hermione could barely stay
awake.� This was like a History of Magic
lecture, only worse.� She�d usually
gotten more than 3 hours of sleep before History of Magic.� It was her own fault for staying so long with
Lucius the night before.

�� It was so frightening seeing him in
that hospital bed.� She could only
imagine the state she�d be in if she had seen him when he came in.� Of course, she couldn�t have.� His family came first; that was their
right.� Draco
and Narcissa had not wasted any time getting to the
hospital and that heartened her because it meant they truly cared.� It was just frustrating to have to wait to
see him when she knew she loved him just as much as they did.

�� The middle of the night was her
time.� As usual, once she started kissing
him she couldn�t stop.� It didn�t
progress beyond that, but it was all too easy to whittle away two hours
languidly snogging him; she should have known that by
now.� She had finally torn herself away
when the horizon began to lighten and Lucius warned
her that the nurses would be in for his potions soon.

�� The ensuing sleep had been light and
distracted.� Now she could barely pay
attention; her eyes keep drooping and her head felt like it was full of
molasses.� Love had certainly taken a
toll on her studies.

�� What she didn�t get in class,
however, she could easily make up on her own later.� Hermione wasn�t worried since she�d been
doing that her entire life.� She just had
scholastic guilt over all the days she�d missed and the few that had passed in
an exhausted blur, like today.

�� At last it was over and she gathered
up her books.� She needed a nap.� Then she supposed she would see if Lucius was still in St. Mungo�s.� Hermione said goodbye to her classmates and
emerged into the cool autumn air.

�� She began to walk to the apparition
point and stopped in her tracks.� Was she
hallucinating?� A woman stood on the edge
of the piazza.� She had dark, corkscrewed
hair and a baby blue scarf tucked attractively around her neck.

�� People continued to walk around her,
Muggle and wizard alike; the Muggles
didn�t realize they had a magical university right in their midst.� To them, they were just students like any others.� Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and opened
them again.� She was still there.

�� Taking a deep breath, she forced
herself to walk again.� She hated when
she had moments like that.� Rationally,
she knew that Bellatrix Lestrage
was dead and that there was no way she could be standing in Florence waiting for her.� Of course her mind didn�t always dwell within
the bounds of rationality � she knew better.

�� The truth was just as
inexplicable.� It had to be Andromeda
standing there, apparently waiting for her.�
Why?� And how had she figured out
where to find her?� It wasn�t common
knowledge that Hermione was in school here.�
Only Harry and Ron knew�though, in all fairness, if Ron knew, it meant
every Weasley knew, and that broadened things
considerably.

�� Andromeda smiled as she
approached.� Hermione allowed her
surprised yet happy look to overtake her face and pushed the worries from her
mind.� No matter what she was here for,
it would never be as bad as seeing Harry standing there, eyes red from hastily
disguised tears, waiting for her to explain her lies.

�� Absolutely not.�

�� Lucius
glanced over at his ex-wife, a hint of incredulity on his face.� �Narcissa, he�s
barely begun to explain the plan.�

�� Well, my masterful powers of
deduction tell me that this plan is going to involve using you as bait.� I won�t stand for it.�� She drew herself up, nose in the air.� �It�s bad enough that their negligence put
you in danger the first time around.� I
won�t let them do it purposefully this time.�

�� Dawlish
raised an eyebrow.� He was clearly biting
the inside of his lips to keep from smiling.�
For his sake, Lucius hoped he managed to
contain that smile.� Narcissa
would eat him alive if he didn�t.

�� Ms. Black, Lucius
was offered a security detail after he was released from house arrest.� He declined.��

�� Did he?�� Her icy eyes now turned on him.� �He omitted that little detail.�

�� I didn�t want anyone else to lose
their lives in this debacle.� Not to
mention that I value my privacy.� How
could I be sure that it was not just a ploy to continue investigating me?� Lucius replied.

�� Gradually, Narcissa�s
stormy look faded.� That was logic she
could appreciate.

�� I assure you, Ms. Black, our
objective is not to put anyone in danger.�
What I propose is that we catch this criminal in the same way he has
tried to fool us,� Dawlish continued once he sensed
it was safe to go on.

�� Polyjuice?� Lucius
questioned.

�� Yes.� There is a fundraising banquet tomorrow
evening for Mr. Netherwood�s family.� He had two children and his wife didn�t
work.� They�ve got some savings in a Gringotts account, but not much.� You already RSVP�d
in the positive for the event.�

�� I would like to attend, yes.�

�� And you will�in body.�� Dawlish stood from
his seat and paced a few times.� �Mr.
Pound, editor of the Critiquill, has already agreed
to set the trap.� The killer will be fed
the information that we have someone in custody and believe the danger to be
over.� In addition, it will be revealed
that the author�s agent, your fictional creation, will be at the banquet.� The killer will no doubt be watching you to see if your behavior in any way
reveals the next linkage to the author.��
The Auror leaned against the back of his
chair.� �He will reveal himself by
attempting to accost you.�

�� Lucius
frowned.� It was a good plan, but if the
killer had a modicum of sense, he would not be drawn out so easily.� �What if it�s too soon?� What if he�s too spooked to try again?�

�� Then we will have a lovely evening
celebrating Mr. Netherwood�s life,� Dawlish responded succinctly, �and try a different
approach.�

�� Hermione fidgeted with her wine
glass.� She was at a restaurant with
Andromeda now.� Idle chitchat over Teddy
and how beautiful Florence
was had occupied the time thus far.� Now,
as they waited for the first course, the conversation dwindled.

�� Strangely enough, it seemed to
Hermione that Andromeda was building herself up to something.� It was curious; if anything, Hermione was the
one who ought to be nervous.� Scratch that,
she was nervous.� Andromeda was a smart, reasonable woman.� What if Harry had told her with the intention
of her coming to Italy
to try to logically talk Hermione out of being with Lucius?

�� It wouldn�t work.� It wasn�t as if she hadn�t gone over those
logical pros and cons herself.� The simple
fact was her heart had won this battle.�
That was a logic that the brain just couldn�t deny.

�� Andromeda took a sip of wine.� Then she looked up at Hermione, eyes cautious
but warm.� �I know about you and Lucius.�

�� Ah, there it was.� Hermione tensed but kept her voice
level.� �Harry told you, I assume?�

�� No,� she replied.� She drew a line in the condensation on her
glass.� �I saw you two together at St. Mungo�s.�

�� Hermione closed her eyes.� It had been against her better judgment to
go.� She shouldn�t have, yet things had
been left up in the air before the attack, and if she knew Lucius,
he had been wondering if she was rethinking the whole arrangement after Harry�s
tantrum.� She didn�t want him to think
that she wasn�t there because she didn�t want to be.

�� I�m not here to yell at you or try
to talk you out of it,� Andromeda said softly.

�� What?� Hermione asked, not sure
that she�d heard correctly.

�� I said I�m not here to try to
reason with you.� Reason never stands a
chance against love.�� The dark�haired
woman smiled wistfully.

�� Hermione could only stare at her for
a few moments.� Of all the things she had
expected, this was not it.� Was she actually�supportive of her
relationship with Lucius?� It seemed not only improbable, but downright
impossible.�

�� Then,� she began shakily, �what are
you here for?�

�� Andromeda reached out and placed her
hand over the younger witch�s.� �I�m here
to tell you that if you ever need anything, anything at all, you can come to
me.� I understand the position you�re
in.� I spent five years of my life hiding
my relationship with Ted, always fearing that the wrong person would discover
us�always fearing what it would do to us and to our families.� I think you know well enough how my family
reacted.�

�� Hermione thought of the tapestry at Grimmauld Place
and the scorched threads where Andromeda had been.� �They were rotten.�

�� Yes, they were, but they were still
my family.� I loved them.�� She looked down at the pristine white
tablecloth.� �That�s why I can understand
how you love Lucius.�
It�s the same reason I could love Bellatrix.� There are little things that those of us who
are closest know about certain people�things that are redeeming and
beautiful.� Things
which outsiders never get to see.�

�� That was certainly true, though she
bristled at the talk of anything
being redeeming about Bellatrix.� Then again, she had not grown up with
her.� Perhaps she had been sane once upon
a time�

�� I can see that he�s changed.� He couldn�t love you, otherwise,� Andromeda
concluded quietly.

�� I�I don�t know what to say,�
Hermione whispered.

�� You don�t have to say anything.�

�� At that moment, their food came,
providing a most opportune distraction.�
They ate in silence for a few minutes.�
Then Hermione put down her fork.

�� I appreciate this very much,
Andromeda, but the secret may already be out.�

�� Ah yes, the silly
bint in the forensics department.�

�� How do you know about that?�

�� I heard you two talking.� Who is she?�

�� Hermione sighed.� �A girl from Hogwarts.� Our fifth year, Harry and I formed a group to
practice defensive spellwork since we weren�t being
taught anything.� We had to operate it
covertly because student organizations were banned.� Other students signed up at meetings in Hogsmeade.� This girl
was one of the members of the group.��
She picked up her fork again and speared at a tomato.� �She sold us out when the Ministry began to
put some pressure on her parents.�

�� Hm,�
Andromeda thought out loud.� �And what
else?�

�� The sign-up parchments for the
group were magical.� Everyone was
paranoid that year, so I figured I ought to be paranoid too.� If anyone betrayed us, I wanted to know
exactly who it was.� So�I charmed it so
that whoever gave us up would have the word �sneak� written across their face
in pustules.�

�� Andromeda�s brows rose slightly and
her lips twitched.� �Vindictive,
but suitable.�

�� Yes.� I built in a countercurse, of course,
that being that all the person had to do was apologize for their actions.� This girl never apologized, and to this day
she has pustules and scars on her face.�
Somehow this is my fault,� Hermione spat, allowing her disdain to seep
through for a quick second.

�� Her self-absorption is not your
fault,� Andromeda shrugged, �but I can see why she would hold a grudge.�

�� Well, if she�d just come to me, I
would have told her what she needed
to do.�

�� But here we are.�

�� Hermione nodded.� �I met with her and told her the countercurse.� That
was what she wanted.� I just don�t know
if that will satisfy her.� She may go to
the media to spite me.�

�� Tell me her name,� Andromeda
said.� �I�ll have a little talk with
her.�� The tone of her voice was
menacing.

�� Andromeda��

�� Now, Hermione, you may not have the
stomach to blackmail her, and Lucius may not have the
flawless reputation he once did to enable him to do it, but I am
unrestricted.� I can blackmail whoever I
want and I guarantee you I will do it better than she does.�

�� I�was trying not to stoop to her
level.�

�� Very Gryffindor of you,� the older
woman smiled.� �But how can your enemy
know what they�re up against if you allow yourself to be walked on like
that?�� She chewed on a piece of chicken,
eyes bright with thought.� �You need to
fire back and make her sorry she ever tried to tangle with you in the first
place.� It also helps to let her know
that you have allies.� From what I
gather, she doesn�t.� She�s working
alone.� We can exploit that.�

�� Andromeda,� Hermione repeated, this
time struggling to contain the smile that wanted to break out across her
face.� She often forgot that the eldest Black
sister had been in Slytherin House like all the
others, save Sirius.� Andromeda
frequently seemed too nice and too normal to be from the house of Salazar.

�� I know,� she replied, holding up a
hand.� �I�m being terribly Slytherin right now.�
The difference is that I only behave this way when important things are
on the line.� Things like love and the
well-being of the people I care about.�

�� I do appreciate it.�

�� The dark-haired woman paused,
briefly pressing her napkin to her lips.�
�I mean it, Hermione.� Being with
Ted was the best thing that ever happened to me.� He made me come alive and opened my eyes to
so many things.� Sometimes I feel like
I�m half dead without him.� I don�t want
you to feel like that.� If Lucius is the man who brings out the best in you, who makes
you feel like you�re going to explode with happiness, then you need to do
whatever it takes to be with him.� Forget
the naysayers.�
They aren�t important, beyond what you need to do to keep them
contained.�

�� I�I really can�t believe that you
can stomach me being with him.� I figured
you would hate him.�

�� She shrugged again.� �He treats Narcissa
and Draco well and I know he�s an intelligent
wizard.� It was never him.� It was his beliefs and what he was willing to
do to enforce them.�

�� Hermione nodded.� That was exactly it.� That was the line she had drawn in her mind
so long ago.

�� I will be talking to him, of
course,� Andromeda added with a grim determination.� �To make sure he knows that I will dismember
him if he ever harms you, and that he doesn�t get a second chance.�

�� Hermione laughed.� �Did Ted ever get that warning?�

�� Once,� she replied smugly.� �That was all he needed.�

The banquet came and went.� As Lucius
suspected, the killer was spooked by his almost-capture.� He wasn�t a pro, but he wasn�t stupid,
either.� Nonetheless, it had been
interesting to go to the banquet Polyjuiced as a
reporter.� It had been even more
interesting (and amusing) to watch Dawlish struggle
to play Lucius Malfoy for
the evening.�

Perhaps the most satisfying thing
was solidly elbowing Rita Skeeter several times while
he jostled for the �scoop�.� He would
have liked to do much more than that, for himself, for Narcissa,
for Draco, and for Hermione, but he had to
behave.� Still, he couldn�t resist casting
a sticking charm on her heels.� She had
trailed toilet paper, cocktail napkins, and streamers around for the remainder
of the evening � because if she didn�t, she would stick to the floor and be
unable to move.� If only they made such
charms for the mouth.

Overall, it was an uneventful
evening.� Lucius
was able to make an obscenely large donation and express his apologies to
Patrick�s family.� Dawlish
was convincing, if a bit awkward, posing as him and was able to pass off any
oddness to the strain of his recent injuries.�
It helped that Narcissa was at his side
telling him who everyone was and what to say to them.� That would fuel some rumors of them
reuniting, but those would be easy enough to refute.

�So what�s your different
approach?� he�d asked the next morning via floo.

�Mandatory DNA samples from every
single employee of the Critiquill.� If we don�t find him that way, then there
will be DNA scans in place at the next event.�
If not there, we�ll put DNA scans on all public floos
and Apparition points.� We�ll get him, Lucius.� We will.�

He hadn�t argued.� He�d also accepted an emergency portkey for him to use in the event of another attack.� Dawlish tried to
convince him to allow 24-hour monitoring by the Aurors,
but he just couldn�t do it.� He couldn�t
live his life with them watching.� He
thanked the Auror, took the mickey
a bit more about his turn as Lucius Malfoy (�How do you stand half those people?� Dawlish demanded once the evening was over), and then
closed the floo.

Draco sighed
as he emerged from the lift.� Truly, the
hours were the only bad part of this job.�
Every two weeks, he had to work a graveyard shift or a weekend shift.� Neither were particularly populous times at
the Ministry.

It was two in the morning on
Tuesday.� There were probably about eight
people in the entirety of the Ministry and six of them were janitors.� The other two were he and his partner � or so
he thought.

He went into the cafeteria for a
cup of coffee.� After midnight everything
was free to employees, as if compensating for the fact that they were still
there after midnight.� He took a sip and
grimaced.� Draco
liked strong coffee but this was on par with mud.� It would have to do.

As he turned, he noticed that he
wasn�t alone.� There was a redhead at a
table in the corner.� She was sitting
with a stack of folders and not paying attention to a single one.� In fact, his keen eyes and ears informed him
that she was crying.

Just as he noticed it, she looked
up and saw him.� Thus began the wiping of
her eyes and nose and her attempt to get herself together.� Draco cursed
inwardly.� If he didn�t go over there and
ask her if she was all right, he would just be an arsehole.� He had his moments, but he had been raised,
however paradoxically, to be a gentleman when it counted.

He shuffled over to her and set the
coffee down on the table.� �Mind if I
join you?�

�Not at all,� she replied in a
nasal voice.

�What are you doing here so late?�

�Forensics.� Double homicide in Kent.�

�Lovely.�

�Always is,� she replied.

Draco
sipped his coffee, comfortable in the ensuing silence.� She was vaguely familiar to him.� He�d probably gone to school with her, but
her name escaped him.� After long minutes
in which she attempted to focus on her folders without success, he spoke up
again.� �Are you all right?�

She sniffled and looked up at
him.� �You�re Draco
Malfoy, aren�t you?�

�Regretfully,
yes.�� He said it with a small,
self-deprecating smile.� Nothing good
ever followed that question, so he braced himself.��

�Draco,
did you ever have to apologize for something you weren�t sorry for?�

�Doesn�t everyone have to at some
point?� he asked.

�I mean�something important.�

He considered the question for a
long time.� Then he met her eyes and
decided to be completely honest, since she had not gone running the second she
figured out who he was.� He had talked
about this with Healer Newbery a lot; initially, it had been very difficult for
him to deal with the simultaneous strain of his remorse and his anger at the
way others perceived him and all that he�d been through.

�Sometimes you can�t be sorry for
things.� Sometimes you had to do them to
keep yourself or your family safe.�
There�s nothing wrong with that.��
Draco licked his lips.� �An action is just an action.� It�s the consequences that matter.� So even if you can�t regret the action, you
can regret the consequence.� It�s�a bit
of semantics, I guess, but it keeps me sane.��

She sat there and blinked a few
times.� �You�re exactly right.� Exactly.�� Then she sprung into motion, gathering all
her folders and stuffing them into a bag.�
�I�ve got to go.� Thank you.� You�re brilliant.�

It was Draco�s
turn to sit there and blink as she threw herself together and practically ran
from the room.

�� Hermione
sighed and rubbed her eyes.� It was late;
the harsh light of her lamp was more irritating than helpful.� She supposed she had become too accustomed to
candlelight.�

�� Lucius had asked her to please stay away from the villa
while the killer remained at large; Merlin only knew when he would try to
strike again, and Lucius did not want her to become a
target.� He, too, had finally been
persuaded to stay at the Manor.�
Initially, he had assured her that the culprit would be caught quickly.� Her stay in her claustrophobic flat had since
stretched to a little over two weeks.

�� She saw him
on Sundays; he refused to miss their weekly dinner with Paolo and Elisabetta and Hermione was glad of it.� Still, spending only two of sixteen days in
his presence, and then only briefly, was challenging.� It was only now that she realized how truly
entangled they had become.

�� Last Sunday
their deprivation had come to a head and they had to fight valiantly to keep
from attacking one another in sheer lust when they got a moment alone.� They lost the fight.� Hermione had made an excuse that she left
something at the villa and had to run back.�
She left and as soon as she was outside and sure of the fact that no one
was watching, she apparated straight into the
guestroom�s loo.�
Simultaneously, Lucius sauntered off to use
the facilities.� Paolo and Elisabetta were gracious enough not to comment on the fact
that he was in there for twenty minutes.�
Thank the lord for silencing charms.

�� She missed
him.� On the bright side, though, she had
managed to catch up on her studies.� A
few more days of this and she would be ahead.�
She blew out a breath and frowned in malcontent.�

�� It was
amazing that she�d been able to concentrate at all.� She was missing Lucius,
worrying about what Marietta Edgecombe was doing, and still dejected about
Harry.� He�d helped her and she knew what
he had witnessed had done something �
she could see that much from the paleness in his face when he came to inform
her of the attack and Lucius�s hospitalization � but
since then, there was only silence from his end.

�� She had
considered flooing him a dozen times.� She�d written a letter only to crumple it up
and toss it away.� Harry wasn�t a person
she could adequately communicate with in writing.� She needed to see his face, hear his
voice�she knew him so well that those things were like beacons, signs to be
heeded and catalogued, each revealing how he really felt, how he wanted to
feel, and the success or failure of his attempt to reconcile the two.

�� All she
knew was that this silence couldn�t continue without a resolution.� If that resolution was that they were
finished and he never wanted to speak to her again, that was fine.� She just needed to know.

�� Hermione
set her schoolbooks aside and pulled out a fresh piece of parchment.� If she knew Harry, she would bet that the
ambiguity was eating at him, too.� He
wouldn�t turn down her invitation.

�� True to
form, he didn�t.� He arrived two minutes
before nine o�clock, freshly showered and shaved and looking quite fine in his Auror trainee robes.�
They ate first, making small talk about mutual friends and
acquaintances.� Then, as the plates were
emptied, they fell into silence.�

�� Thank you
for what you did, Harry,� she whispered at last.

�� It was my
job,� he responded.

�� It wasn�t
your job to lie or get yourself in trouble.�
It meant a lot to me, and to Lucius.�

�� Harry�s lip
twitched at the mention of the pureblood.�
Then he cut right to the heart of things.� �Hermione, I know you.� I know you wouldn�t just jump into this.� There has to be an explanation.� Tell me what happened between you two.�

�� She
breathed.� If ever there was a time to be
truthful, this was it.� She would have to
bend things a little to shelter secrets that were not ready for others to
know�but she could at least give him some idea.

�� I bumped
into him in the Muggle world.� He was working on a project and I assumed the
worst.� I cornered him and accused him of
behaving like a Death Eater and forced him to show me the project.�� She looked down at the table.� �I can�t tell you what it was, but it was
nothing bad.� It was actually kind of
wonderful.�

�� Why can�t
you tell me?�

�� It�s of a
delicate nature.� I promised him I
wouldn�t tell anyone.�� Harry chewed his
lip, but said nothing.� Hermione went on.� �I accidentally took his wand with me after
that encounter.�

�� Harry�s
eyes widened.� �Jesus, Hermione.�

�� I
know.� He came after me.� He found me at my parents� house.� I was terrified.� But in the end, all that happened was that I
returned his wand and we traded some insults.��
Bending the truth, indeed.

�� What
then?�

�� As with the
ear incident, it was best to leave out the part about the Unbreakable Vow and
ensuing mental connection.� That would be
all Harry needed to hear to condemn him.�

�� He came to
see me at the Ministry, twice.� He said
that he needed assistance with his project, and I was the only one who could
provide it.�

�� Why?�

�� Because he
was at an impasse and our interactions provided him with...inspiration.�

�� Harry made
a face, the same one she would have made if she was hearing this story from his
point of view.� It was a �you�ve got to
be kidding� face, half sarcastic eyeroll, half
nauseated.�

�� And you
told him to stuff it, I assume,� Harry said.

�� At first, yes.� I
told him that he would just have to deal with it and do it on his own like
everyone else.� That was when he told me
about his curse.�

�� It�s real,
then?�

�� She
resisted the urge to smack him on the arm.�
�Of course it�s real!�

�� Well, I
wouldn�t put it past him to make it up in order to get special treatment.� That�s what I thought when it came out in the
papers.�

�� Hermione
bit down on her anger.� Harry didn�t know
the circumstances and that was why he could speak so flippantly about it.� �No, Harry, it�s real.� I�ve seen him take all the potions and spoken
to his healer.�

�� He licked
his lips.� �He was shouting something
about his blood when we found him after the attack.� He said it was contagious.� I couldn�t believe how upset he seemed -
thought he was out of his gourd from blood loss, or something.�

�� He�s
deathly afraid of passing it on.� He was
trying to warn you.�

�� Hm.�� Harry fiddled with his fork.� �So he dropped a sympathy card and you rushed
to his aid?�

�� She gave
him a dark look.� �Harry, if you repeat
what I�m about to say, I will hurt you in your sleep.� Is that clear?�

�� He raised
an eyebrow, but nodded.

�� When he
came to me, he was depressed and suicidal.�
He wanted to finish his project and die.�

�� So, like I
said, you rushed to his aid.�

�� Hermione
made a sound of frustration and slapped her palm on the table.� �Oh, Harry, don�t act like you wouldn�t do
the same!� You�re only slightly less of a
bleeding heart than me!�

�� He sat back
in his chair, chastened by the blunt truth.�
He wasn�t going to mention the times he had shouted at people to bugger
off when they decided it would be brilliant to taunt Draco
Malfoy while he completed his community service work
after the war.� When he raised his voice,
people listened.� It was one of the nice
things about being who he was.

�� All right.� So you
helped him.�

�� Yes.�� Hermione bit her lips.� �I accompanied him to Italy.�

�� Harry�s
brow drew in.� �Wait a minute.� You were with him that first trip in July?�

�� Yes, and
before you get angry, it was entirely professional.�� Right.� Merlin, she was becoming too proficient at
lying.

�� I hope it
was,� he replied, an edge to his voice.

�� I learned
a lot about him.� He had muggle friends as a boy, did you know that?�

�� No.�

�� We�sort of
existed, working on the project and annoying one another, until I got sick.�

�� Sick?� What kind of sick?�

�� Heat stroke.� He took
care of me.� Stayed up all night and
worked himself ragged to make sure I was okay.� After that things changed.�

�� Harry
regarded her with a wary incredulity.�
�What do you mean?�

�� We�became
friends.�� She licked her lips.� �Everything happened so fast.� Before I knew it, we kissed.� It scared the hell out of me, Harry.�

�� As well it
should have,� he muttered.

�� I rejected
him.� I was so scared.� I didn�t think about the impact it would have
on him.�� Hermione sighed,
regret filling her at the memory of it.�
�Around the same time, he received word that his mother had passed
away.�

�� Harry�s
face flickered with a trace of sympathy.�
The loss of parents would always be a sensitive subject for him.� It didn�t matter how long a person had been
able to spend with them; he still felt their pain, perhaps even more so when
they�d had time to really know their progenitors.�

�� So he had
a rough go of it, huh,� he said softly.

�� Yes.� It was the last straw for him.� And it�s no wonder�everything he knew was turned
upside down, he was lethally cursed, his son hated him, his wife was divorcing
him, I rejected him, and then that��
That, which had hurt him so badly for reasons that she couldn�t explain
to Harry�

�� Did he try
to�?�

�� Kill himself?� Yes.�� She closed her eyes, remembering the way he
had looked.� The terrible emptiness in
his voice, the way the tears evaporated right out of his eyes, and the scald of
his hands as he tried to push her away�with the sunflowers wilting all around
them�Hermione shivered.

�� Harry�s
eyes were wide and interested now in spite of the fact that he was obviously
trying not to care.� �What happened?�

�� Did you
know that if a wizard becomes extremely emotionally unstable, his own magic can
kill him?�

�� To her
surprise, Harry nodded.� �Elemental magic.� I
heard Dumbledore and Pomfrey talking about it after
Sirius died.� I felt awful, but never
that awful.�

�� Hermione
looked at him, wondering what form his elemental magic took.� Air and wind and sky, perhaps, since he was
so good on a broom.� Or maybe he was
fire, just like Lucius.� A sudden vision of Harry falling apart as Lucius had rocked her, and she cringed, squeezing her eyes
shut.� She had thought about Harry�s
mental health many times during those trying years, but realizing what could
have happened to him was frightening, indeed.

�� I was
never even close, Hermione,� he said softly, somehow knowing what she was
thinking about.� �I had two best friends
and a lot of great people to keep me sane.�

�� He didn�t
appear surprised when she launched herself at him.� Nor was he stingy with the ensuing
embrace.� Harry hugged her tightly, even
placing a light kiss in her hair.

�� Hermione,�
he whispered after a long moment, �You�re smarter than 99% of the people in
this world.� I wouldn�t be here if not
for you.� I�ve been wrong about people
many times, but you have better instincts.�
Your judgment is usually right even if I don�t want to accept it.� If you see something in him, if you�ve found
a part of him that�s worthy of loving, then I just have to accept it.�� His body tensed.� �I just want to know that you�re safe.� That he won�t hurt you.� I have no problem trusting you, but it�s much
harder to trust him.�

�� He swore
not to hurt me,� she said through the lump that had formed in her throat.� �And he never has.� If anything, I�ve hurt him.�

�� It was news
to Harry that a man like Malfoy could be hurt.� He had always loomed so large and threatening
in his mind.� Perhaps half of the trouble
was that he just couldn�t picture Lucius having any
emotions at all, least of all love�love for someone he�d once despised.� But hatred based on ideology was easier to
cure than hatred based on some grievous slight.�
Harry knew that.

�� Maybe you
should talk to him,� Hermione said tentatively.

�� He pulled
back from their hug at last, giving her a look that said she was crazy.� �I don�t think that�s the best idea.�

�� I think
it�s a great idea, actually.��

�� Hermione,
I sent the man to prison and all but ruined him.� Please explain to me what logic you�re
using.�

�� Truth be
told, she wasn�t using any logic, but
she knew that if she asked Lucius to please talk to
him, he would.� He might not be entirely
civil and would hate the entire experience.�
Yet she knew that he wouldn�t deny her anything.

�� I just�I
just think you need to see how he�s changed.�
I think that�s why this is so hard for you.� You still think he�s that man from the
Department of Mysteries.�� She stepped
away from him, resisting the urge to pace.�
�Believe me, Harry, I looked for ulterior motives in him for weeks and
weeks and sometimes I still catch myself doing it.� It�s hard to let go.� But the man I�ve come to know�he�s nothing
like he was.� Hardly even the same
person.�

�� Harry was
quiet for a long moment.� Then he said,
�I�m sorry I said those things to you, Hermione.� I was just�angry and confused.�

�� I�m sorry
I lied to you.�

�� A slight
smile curled his lips.� �Not sorry you
slapped me?�

�� She
snorted.� �You deserved that.�

�� I guess I
did.�� He stood up and straightened his
robes.

�� Are you
leaving?� Don�t you want to hear the rest
of the story?�

�� He shook
his head.� �I don�t need to.�� He reached out to twist a stray curl around
his finger, an affectionate gesture.� �I
know what it�s like to spend a lot of time with a person when emotions are running
high and just�tip over into wondering.� I
was too much of a coward to act on it.�

�� She was
bewildered for a short moment.� �What do
you--�� And then
it dawned on her.� He was talking about
that last year, the horcrux hunt, when they�d been
stuck in that tent together for weeks on end.�
When it was just the two of them, after Ron had left, it had truly
seemed like they were the only two people in the world � or in each other�s
world, at least.� It had occurred to her
as they both lay awake but pretended to sleep that they could find comfort
together and no one would ever know.� Not
Ron, not Ginny, not anyone.� She had
dismissed the thought quickly, admonishing herself for letting her mind wander
from their current predicament.� Harry
had evidently not dismissed it with the same speed.

�� She was a
little surprised at the confession.�
While she was flattered, Hermione couldn�t help but make a face.� It would have been so awkward!� But, she thought as she watched a sheepish
smile tug at his lips, maybe not, because she did love him.� His hand cupped her cheek and she stared up
at him, unsure of what to do.

�� Good on Lucius,� Harry murmured.�
�He must be a lot braver than me.�

�� I�m not
sure brave is the word,� she replied with a small smile.

�� Harry leaned
forward and kissed her forehead.� �Thank
you for explaining.�� And then he was out
the door and gone, leaving Hermione to feel slightly bewildered, but
deliriously happy that they had reached some kind of truce.

�� The next
day there was an arrest.� Dawlish�s surprise DNA tests at the Critiquill
paid off.� Charles Peppard
Bartholomew, one of the men who had reviewed Lucius�s
book, was a match to the sample they�d attained from the attack.� They had dragged him out of the office
immediately.� Oddly, the man complied in
absolute bafflement; he swore up and down that he had no idea what they were
talking about and he�d never attacked anyone.

�� Now Lucius was at the Ministry to pick him out of a
lineup.� He thought it rather pointless
since he�d been Polyjuiced during the attack.� How was he supposed to recognize him when
he�d never actually seen him?� Protocol
was protocol, though.

�� He looked
at the five men arranged in the room before him.� Lucius
frowned.� The man who attacked him had
been entirely covered and he had only been able to observe small details.� None of the men looked familiar to him,
except perhaps eternal law-breaker Mundungus Fletcher
standing at spot number three.�

�� Dawlish,� he said, �when a person is Polyjuiced,
do they take on all the characteristics of that other person?�

�� What
characteristics do you mean?� the Auror asked.� His face was tense with concentration; he,
too, was studying the men in the lineup.

�� Well,
things like gait and hand dominance.�� Lucius swept his eyes over the five men again.� �He was covered up.� The only identifiers I have are things like
that, and if they are attributable to Polyjuice, I
don�t see how I can identify him.�

�� Truthfully,
I don�t know.� That�s a better question
for a Potions Master.�

�� Lucius sighed.� �Can
you have them walk?� Except number three,
I know it�s not him.�

�� Dawlish gave the order.�
One by one, the four remaining men walked across the small space.� Lucius watched
closely.� None of them were
pigeon-toed.� He asked for their hand dominance,
which Dawlish had them demonstrate by writing a
sentence on parchment.� All of them were
right-handed.� His attacker had been
left-handed.

�� As a
last-ditch effort, Lucius asked that they be made to
speak.� He�d supplied a sentence, one
that the man had spoken to him while they were in the factory.� None of the four men seemed bothered by the
sentence and he knew why; none of them had spoken it.

�� It isn�t
any of these men,� he said at last.

�� Dawlish rubbed a hand over his face in exasperation.� �Come on, Lucius.� Take some more time.� Think about it.� Don�t rush.�

�� I mean
it.� The man who attacked me is not
standing in there.� And if he is, how on
Earth am I supposed to identify him when he was someone else during our altercation?�

�� His blood
matches, Lucius.�
He�s in there.�

�� You can�t
lead me like that, Dawlish, if his attorney gets wind
of it--� Lucius started to caution.

�� I know,�
he snapped irritably.� �Damn it, I just
wanted an open-and-shut case.�

�� Well, you
can use the blood match to keep him here, can�t you?� Until you get a warrant for
Veritaserum or investigative Legilimency?�

�� Yes.�� The Auror looked
highly put out.� �I hate Polyjuice Potion!�

�� That makes
two of us.� May I go?�

�� Dawlish sighed.�
�Yes, Lucius, you may go.�

�� My instincts
were right,� he said later that week, when he and Hermione had a moment alone
in the kitchen of Paolo and Elisabetta�s house.�

�� About
Bartholomew?� she asked in a low, conspiratorial tone.

�� Yes.� They court-ordered him to submit to Veritaserum and he had an alibi for the day of the
attack.� It checks out.� He�s not the one.�

�� Then how
did you get his blood all over you?� Hermione protested over her wine glass.

�� That is
the part that nobody can figure out.�

�� She set the
wine glass down and rubbed her temples.�
�This killer is smarter than we thought.�

�� It seems
that way.�

�� Hermione
groaned and leaned into his chest, embracing him.� �I just want him to be caught so I can stop
worrying and shag you whenever I want.�

�� His hand
strayed down her back and over her bum.�
�I can make arrangements for you to come to the Manor.�

�� Ask me in
another week and I might say yes.�

�� Ah.� Your libido must truly be in an uproar.�

�� As if yours isn�t.�

�� His large
hand stroked over her hair and he said, �Soon, Hermione.� They�ll catch him soon.�

�� Early the
next week, Lucius found himself in Diagon Alley, about 30 minutes early for his lunch date
with Draco.� He
meandered into Flourish and Blotts.� He had been so focused on writing recently
that he had not read a good book in some time.�
This might also be a good opportunity to buy something Hermione would
like.� He did miss her terribly and
appreciated how patient she�d been through all of this.

�� His own
patience was growing short.� He missed
the villa.� Life at the Manor was vastly
better now that he was on good terms with its other occupants, but his life
wasn�t centered there anymore.

�� He sorted
through the books in the shop with some interest.� It was said that imitation was the sincerest
form of flattery; he wondered how true that was as he browsed a display of
�fictional autobiographies�.� It seemed
that he had started a trend.� Lucius rolled his eyes and was about to turn and walk away
when someone knocked into the display from behind.� Realizing that a stack of books was about to
tilt directly onto his head (again), Lucius raised an
arm to shield himself.

�� Protego!�� The books rained down around him, but not a
single one made contact.� It was a quick
and very effective shielding charm.

�� Lucius turned, ready to thank his savior.� He found himself staring down the business
end of a wand.� A wand that was very
familiar, held in the man�s left hand.�
His heart stopped.

�� Then, a
quick moment later, it restarted.� So did
his brain.� He hoped his face had not
gone too white.� There had been other
times when the uncontrollable effects of his nervous system had given him away.

�� Thank
you,� he said, his voice level.� �What brings you to Flourish
and Blotts, Mr. Pound?�

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

And now, poll time: Do we like the idea of a Tiresias/Andromeda pairing?
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