Chapter 26

After the press conference, Hermione had expected her life to change immediately. A small part of her was glad she didn't have a job to go into, because that way she wouldn't have to deal with the ugliness the public was sure to heap upon her.

But either Lucius or Draco or both had taken special care that none of said ugliness reached her. Owls redirected to a spare room on the other side of the Manor, where treats waited for the creatures, and wards demolished Howlers before they even had a chance to unfurl.

She could, however, hear the Howlers explode every once in a while, even from across the massive house. It gave her some satisfaction.

Despite the enormity of the Manor, it was beginning to get on Hermione's nerves, having nothing to do but wander around. The library was amazing, of course, though the Accio spell she'd once lauded meant she didn't have to wander the stacks looking for the books she wanted. It also meant she didn't have to actually be in the library at all, as Lucius had charmed her own desk to accepted the same spell, so she had access to every single tome; she only had to name it.

She rarely used it once the novelty had worn off. She rather liked the smells and memories that came with the books being all together like that. It reminded her of Hogwarts.

She had the feeling that neither Malfoy really spent any significant amount of time in the library, because when they'd found her in there after Lucius had returned from work and Draco from visiting a friend, they'd acted as though they'd spent hours looking for her, it having never occurred to them that she'd actually want to enjoy the simple pleasures that such an extensive library offered.

Since Skeeter's article and Hermione's subsequent temporary loss of sanity, she spent almost all waking hours in the library. She felt safe here. Like nothing could hurt her.

Like she couldn't hurt anyone.

And when she got down to it, that was what was bothering her the most. Not only had she used her wandless magic against another human being, but she'd invented a spell to do just that. Her temper had gotten away from her, and she'd said the spell without having any idea what it would do. She hadn't even heard the words she'd spoken at the time, only remembering them after the fact, when her head was clearer.

Draco and Lucius had both tried to talk her out of her moroseness, and while she appreciated their efforts, she just felt distanced from them.

Draco used his wandless magic all the time, from little spells like lumos and Accio, to major incantations and charms. Wandlessly, his magic took a little more time and effort to obey him as readily as his wand-focused magic would have, but he was clearly mastering his technique.

Lucius, on the other hand, she had never seen use wandless magic. Actually, come to think of it, he'd attempted to just before Skeeter's article had hit their table. She couldn't remember if it had worked or not, or whether he'd even completed the spell. She wasn't sure why he wasn't taking the same advantage as Draco, but she figured it was because he'd depended upon his wand for so much longer than she and Draco that it was habit for him.

Either way, neither man had showed any inclination to invent a spell as she had, nor had either used their new power in anger.

Only she could claim to have used her magic for nefarious purposes, and that made her feel ill.

"Here you are!" Draco exclaimed, startling Hermione enough to almost drop her book.

"Here I am," she responded drolly. He should know by now to check the library first, before traipsing all over the house, looking for her. Now that she had no job and didn't feel up to facing the public, there was very little for her to do. She couldn't even clean or cook; the house-elves had made that known quite vociferously.

"How are you doing, love?" he asked, coming to sit directly beside on her on the cosy loveseat.

She shrugged slowly. She didn't really know the answer to that, herself. "I'm fine. How's your day going?"

She knew Draco didn't feel the same sort of bored restlessness that she did, but he'd enjoyed his job very much and was suffering, even if he didn't show it the same way. He did have more to occupy his time. The Malfoys were heavy investors, and Lucius took time every day to show Draco exactly how to handle their money, so that he could, one day, do it without the assistance of his father.

Hermione didn't like to think like that. That Lucius might die before she and Draco did. Magical folk did live a lot longer than Muggles, but the twenty year difference could mean that she and Draco would be without him that long. It was a horrible thought, but at the same time, it made her feel good to think that she would belong to something so special for so long. She would really have them for over a century, if they were all lucky.

Draco shrugged one shoulder. "Not bad. I've been doing some reading, correspondence, stuff like that. Then I got horribly bored and wondered where my lovely little friend was."

Hermione snorted. "And what she did say when you found her?"

"She said she was fine, but I didn't believe her. See, she's been feeling down, and though I understand why, I wish I could help. She's the type to let things bother her, to not speak to her loyal and loving partners, even when she knows they can help."

She laughed. "Okay, let's talk normally. That's getting a little creepy."

Draco smiled and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a tight embrace that she couldn't have escaped from had she wanted to. But when he spoke, his voice was serious. "We can help, you know. Father and I... we have experience with these things, as I'm sure you know."

"I do know," she admitted, curling into the hold. "I've never really done anything like that, you know? Something so... callous. Cruel. Needless. "

"But you didn't think it was needless at the time, did you? You did what you thought you had to do to protect yourself, to protect all of us. Your actions were instinctual; I don't think you can be faulted for that." Draco's voice was low and soothing, reminding her of Lucius. Draco had changed a lot, even in the short time they'd been together, and she felt like she could see him maturing before her eyes.

"But what does it say about me that my instincts are to do harm?"

"I really don't think your instincts wanted you to do harm. I think your temper combined with the volatility of the situation created a spell to best deal with what you were faced with. And really, the spell didn't cause any harm. I mean, yeah, it was a little dramatic, but it didn't hurt her, you know."

Hermione sighed heavily. "No, I didn't hurt her with the first spell. But then we cast more, and I Obliviated her, Draco! That's such a... violation. And I promised myself during the war that I wouldn't sink to that level."

From Draco's cringe, she knew he knew exactly to whose level she was referring, but she was too distressed to mince words. Of course she didn't want to be a Dark witch. She'd fought against the very behaviour she'd enacted. She was the worst kind of hypocrite. She'd had enhanced powers for only a few months, and she was already taking advantage of them, as if she were above the law! As if she were a more important person that Rita Skeeter.

That was exactly the attitude that had started the war in the first place. Hermione felt that acting as though her increased magical abilities gave her the right to do as she pleased made her the same as a Death Eater who thought his blood gave him immunity from the law and from humanity.

Draco seemed to pick up on her thought process, because he suddenly shook his head. "I don't think you have sunk to the level you're thinking. I really don't. And I'm not saying that as a morally ambiguous former Death Eater in training. I'm saying that as your lover, your boyfriend, your friend. You have a temper; we've all always known that." Draco grinned wickedly while placing a hand on his cheek and winking, and Hermione laughed despite herself.

He continued, "But you didn't want to hurt her. Okay, maybe you did want to, viscerally, but your conscience never would have allowed such an action if your temper hadn't gotten the better of you. And when it comes down to it, she's fine. The stupid bint deserved all she got and more, in my opinion. And to be frank, you're lucky my father didn't get there first, because we wouldn't be sitting around discussing tempers; we'd be owling lawyers and contemplating bail."

Draco was smiling, but it was obvious that there was truth in his words. Hermione remembered the time Draco had been attacked by that owl; she knew, now, that it had been their faulty magic to blame. Owls were highly sensitive to magic, and Draco must have been throwing off some strange vibrations. But he'd fallen back to his childhood attitude, remarking on how his father would punish whoever was to blame, including the Healer who hadn't been able to do her job, thanks to their crazy magic.

He was doing the same thing now. She wasn't sure if Draco actually believed Lucius would kill Rita Skeeter for Hermione's honour, but he certainly looked as though he did. To Draco, Lucius really could do no harm these days. It was really sweet and somehow, despite the heavy context, it endeared Draco to her, and Lucius, as well, because he'd obviously raised Draco to count on him and trust him in all things.

Despite past grievous errors, Lucius truly was a good father.

"Draco..." Hermione began tentatively, already knowing that any way she tried to handle this with aplomb would backfire.

"Yes, love?" he said, tangling his fingers easily in her hair.

"When you were... I mean, during the war. You must have had to do some things... some things you weren't proud of..."

Draco stiffened, but he didn't pull away. "I think you know that to be true."

She placed her hand on his chest and moved it in a way she hoped to be soothing. "Did you feel... differently? After?"

He seemed to be weighing his words, and Hermione gave him the time he obviously needed to sort out what he wanted to say.

"I know you think you've changed, Hermione, but I think you're overreacting. Your feelings are your own, and I won't disparage that, but it was just an Obliviation, and you had to do it!"

"But that's just it! Just an Obliviation? That's a spell that basically means people can do whatever the hell they want! It's so dangerous it should be an Unforgivable! And I didn't have to do it. I could have walked away and taken my lumps."

"For Merlin's sake, Hermione, how many ways can I say this? You're not a bad person! Had you 'taken your lumps,' as you say, you'd be in Azkaban! And, sorry if this makes me selfish, but Father and I would likely be entirely without magic until you were released!"

Hermione broke the embrace. She wasn't upset with Draco, not really. He just happened to be there at the moment. She certainly didn't want to go to prison, nor did she want to condemn her lovers to life without magic until her sentence was up.

It wasn't even the fact that Skeeter didn't deserve the punishment, because in Hermione's mind, it had fit the crime.

It was that she'd done something she'd promised herself she'd never do, no matter what. The war was over. The things she'd had to do then... it was different now. It was wrong to act as though she had the right to do as she pleased.

It wasn't her.

So, what had changed? Had her new magic shifted something within her, created something insidious, something indelible on her soul? Changed her?

Or had she had the capacity all along?

She had to suspect it was the latter. Enough circumstances in her youth, even before the war, made her think that the ability to do harm had been a part of her for a long time. She'd just kept it restrained under Gryffindor fairness.

"I don't want to do anything like that again," she whispered, wishing Draco had a way to promise that he would make sure she wouldn't.

A knock on the door broke through her self-pity, but only until she saw Lucius. She'd been avoiding him, which was embarrassing and silly in itself, but the look he'd given her after everything had happened with Skeeter made her feel like she'd disappointed him nearly as much as she'd done herself.

"Mind if I come in?" Lucius asked quietly. If Hermione hadn't known it was impossible, she'd have said he looked awkward.

"Of course," she said softly, moving to make room on the small settee. Draco saw her predicament and unceremoniously hauled her into his lap. Lucius came to sit beside them, and Draco transferred her onto his father's thighs.

Hermione flailed a little at the abrupt move, but seated herself quickly, awkwardly settling her hands in her lap.

She wasn't sure what it was, but she wanted Lucius to be proud of her. Or at least not disappointed in her. He and his son had both managed a very intense turnabout, and that demanded more kudos than she normally recognized. But now, having done what she had, she wondered if they were as affected by their years...especially Lucius...of being on the Dark side of the war as she thought they must be.

If she felt lost and dirty after having cast one simple Obliviation, how must Lucius feel after years of that spell and much, much worse? Draco had avoided answering her when she'd asked if he felt different, but avoidance was as good as admittance, in this case.

"I heard what you and Draco were talking about," Lucius admitted, wrapping his arms around her.

She dropped her head against his chest. They both made her feel safe, like she could confess anything and not be judged.

Not be found wanting.

"I don't want to do it again," she repeated, meeting his eyes for the first time. His gaze was impassive, but she could, as always, see emotion in his eyes, in the lines of his face, in the stillness of his features. She wondered when she'd gotten to know him well enough to accomplish such a feat, as surely it had taken him a lifetime to school his features thus.

"Then you shan't," he said simply, nodding to Draco, who repeated the gesture.

She looked at both, and they seemed in perfect accordance. Was it really so simple? she wondered. Just don't do it again?

"Will you... stop me?"

"If that's what you want, then, yes. We will stop you from using your power in such a way that you will regret," Lucius vowed.

"If we're there to be able to stop you," Draco quietly amended.

She nodded solemnly. She knew they wouldn't always be there to make sure she made the right decisions, so she had to trust herself as well. She just wouldn't let it get away from her again. She would be in control. And knowing they were there, sharing their strength... it was enough.

She leaned over to kiss Draco on the lips, thanking him without words. His hand cupped her cheek, and it felt like forgiveness.

When the kiss broke, she bit her lip and looked at Lucius. He didn't look upset or disappointed at all. In fact, his eyes were a little darker than before. She wondered what he thought when he saw her kiss his son.

She didn't have time to think any further, because suddenly, he was kissing her. Long, slow kisses that explored rather than dominated, the way he usually did.

"Don't think anymore," he told her firmly, his mouth on her neck, marking her.

"I can't turn it off," she said, smiling. She unbuttoned his shirt, starting with the cuffs and continuing until his chest was bared. His pale, muscular form drew her in, and she leaned to trail kisses along his collarbone and pectorals. Draco was watching silently, his lower lip indented with teeth marks.

"Only for a few moments," Lucius promised, and Hermione tried to do as he asked. She cleared her thoughts away and focused only on the way he made her feel, his surprisingly rough hands drawing up her shirt, his soft lips anointing her skin. Draco's deep breathing on the seat beside them, so close his thigh was pressed against Lucius'.

Draco whispered a spell, and Hermione startled, a sudden cool breeze telling her that she was naked. A wave of magic crashed over her skin, and she gasped. It was like electricity. She looked to Draco with wide eyes, but he gave no indication that he felt anything.

"I felt it, too," Lucius whispered against her skin. "Like lightning."

She nodded dumbly, but couldn't think to say anything more because Lucius' lips took in her peaked nipple, teeth bringing just the hint of pain. She thought she should probably feel more embarrassed, naked in the library, being caressed and kissed as Draco watched with hooded eyes, but she only felt pure want.

When Lucius' sure fingers parted her folds to tease her clit, Hermione dropped her head back and moaned. He could bring her off in minutes like this, something no other man had ever been able to do. Except his son. Who was now unbuttoning his trouser placket and taking out his heavy cock. Hermione watched as he stroked himself slowly, his eyes meeting hers. She flushed and turned to Lucius, who had been watching both of them.

Chuckling softly, Lucius moved her hands to his own trousers, and she hurriedly unfastened them. When he was in her hand, she immediately copied Draco's languid movements, teasing the head and spreading precome down the shaft. Lucius cut off a moan, and Hermione shook her head.

"You shouldn't hold back your noises. I like them," she said, nibbling on his lower lip. He laughed breathlessly and took her lips again. His kiss was a fury, and she knew she'd been foolish to think he would be upset with her over what she'd done.

It hadn't been the right thing to do, but they still wanted her. And Draco, at least, loved her.

Draco's hand was stroking a little faster now as he watched Hermione move to straddle Lucius and settle onto his cock.

And true to her request, Lucius didn't hold back. A vibrating groan escaped his mouth, so deep that she imagined she could feel it inside her, at her core. Where he was.

She stilled on his cock, amazed as always that he could feel so good inside her. She wished for a moment that she was in a different position and could take Draco into her mouth. That way she could really be whole.

But Draco was still a part of this, despite them not being connected. "Move," he directed softly, staring intently at her.

She obediently followed his direction, the cadence of his voice affecting her the same way Lucius' had. She wrapped her arms around Lucius' neck and began to steadily withdraw and impale herself on his lovely, throbbing cock. "Gods," she moaned as his hands encompassed her behind, and he began fucking her on his cock. She couldn't control the movements like she had been, so she lost herself, instead.

All there was was the steady pounding beneath her, Lucius pulling her onto his upward thrusts, his mouth moving over every inch of skin that was bared to him. She pressed herself again his chest, opening his parted shirt further to feel his heated skin against her breasts. They both moaned at the intimate contact, and she saw, from the corner of her eye, Draco's hand begin to move faster.

"Harder," Draco said, clearly speaking to his father this time. Lucius immediately acquiesced, fucking Hermione nearly wildly, bouncing her on his cock so vigorously that her body turned to putty. She was only pleasure, hers and his and Draco's. She absorbed it, she controlled it, she owned it.

She whispered Lucius' name, his fingers on her clit bringing her to the inevitable end, but Draco's next words stopped that.

"Don't let her come, yet," Draco said, his voice thick and low. Hermione whimpered as Lucius' hand withdrew. She pleaded without words for him to touch her again, but he only continued fucking her, holding her on the precipice.

"Come, Father!" Draco said, and Lucius shouted, thrusting more deeply into her than before, gasping as he held her still on his throbbing cock. Hermione ground herself against into his lap, wanting so badly to come, but feeling as though touching herself was not quite permitted.

Panting, Draco pulled her off Lucius lap and turned her over so that she was kneeling on the loveseat with her body over Lucius' lap and her arms braced on the arm of the seat. Draco immediately slipped into her from behind, and all three cried out at the quickness of the movement. Despite having come, Lucius' hands were all over her body, enticing her, bringing her back to where she'd been before and more.

His fingers danced on her clit as Draco took no mercy on her body. His movements were almost frenzied as he fucked her, whispering dirty things that made her blush and Lucius chuckle.

"Yesss..." Draco hissed as her body began to flutter and tighten around his punishing, rewarding cock. A sharp pinch and stroke of her clit and she was screaming out, coming thanks to the ministrations of both her lovers.

Only a moment later, Draco grunted and strained inside her, filling her just as surely as Lucius had.

After he pulled out, Lucius held Hermione for a moment as she regained herself. She could feel their combined come slip from her body, dripping down the side of her thigh. It felt dirty, but somehow right.

"We'll never let anything happen to you," Lucius said lightly, but still serious.

It was a promise, Hermione knew. And Malfoys took promises very seriously.

Hermione was the first to the dining room table the next morning. They'd managed to make it her bedroom after their exertions in the library, though Hermione had the feeling she hadn't helped much in that regard.

She'd left Lucius and Draco lying side by side in her bed and hoped they wouldn't be uncomfortable with that. They certainly didn't demonstrate any sort of discomfort with a more than filial proximity, and to be totally honest, when she'd gotten dressed, looking over the bed, the sight of the two of them in her bed was something more than sexual. It was sensual. It was special. They loved one another. They belonged together, just as surely as she belonged with them and them with her. It was beautiful.

But even that memory couldn't stand up to the horror that confronted her when she opened the morning edition of the Daily Prophet:

LUCIUS MALFOY PUBLICALLY DENIGRATES LOVER HERMIONE GRANGER: "The Mudblood dares to seduce my son? She'll never work again!" claims Malfoy patriarch.