Lucius

Author's Note: My utmost respect and admiration go to Jo Rowling for creating the world. My utmost thanks and adoration go to Annie Talbot and GinnyW for beta work extraordinaire.

LUCIUS

April 22

"I come bearing gifts."

Hermione looked up from her parchment, startled.

The door separating her quarters from Severus' was open for the first time since George had been there, but this time it wasn't Severus standing in the doorway.

She sat up very straight and still.

Lucius Malfoy.

She raised her chin a notch. "Mister Malfoy."

"Please, Lucius."

She didn't respond.

He held up two glass phials in one long-fingered hand, each phial swirling with silver. "Unless your tome has no room for Death Eater memories, of course."

At that, she leapt to her feet. "You...you trust me with them? I don't know how to thank you! Most..." All. "...Death Eaters turned me down." She stopped, frowned. "How complete are they?"

He placed them gently in her hand. "The one with the dark stopper is Narcissa's."

"Narcissa! But...but how did you..."

"We are still on friendly terms, Ms Granger."

"Oh. Well, then."

"Hers includes the night she and her sister extracted the infamous vow from Severus. I'm assuming you still don't have that one."

"He told you?" She averted her eyes. Of all the memories given to her, her own husband's...her mouth twisted at that word...had been withheld.

"And the other contains Draco's. He apologises, but he hasn't really wanted to return to Hogwarts since... well, he sent you the night on the Astronomy Tower, amongst others."

She held the offerings against her breasts, overwhelmed. "Why?" she breathed.

"I believe the operative attitude is, 'never again,' is it not?"

For the first time she turned her face up to his and met his grey eyes, now lined at the corners. First Azkaban and then the fracture of his marriage after the war had taken their toll. Strangely, he seemed more handsome to her now than before. He would have no trouble finding willing witches....

She felt her cheeks flush and looked away. "Let me catalogue these and put them up safely." As an afterthought, "Please, have a seat. That is, unless you were leaving...."

He sank gracefully into the hard-backed chair she kept by the wall for visitors, deliberately uncomfortable to discourage lingering.

She opened a leather-bound notebook and ran her finger down the columns, skipped some pages then found another likely category, and finally decided to start a new section. Yes, there were only two, but perhaps more would come later. She assigned numbers and performed a quick spell that engraved the phials with their new identifications. Finally she placed the phials on the appropriate shelf.

She turned to find Lucius Malfoy staring at her.

She sat on her stool and folded her hands in her lap. "Would you care for tea?"

He shook his head, still silent, still studying her.

She refused to flinch or show any weakness.

"Scorpius...Draco's son...will be starting Hogwarts in nine years. Nine years can be an eternity.... But I fear it won't be long enough for us to secure a more respectable family name for him. Therefore I think, in an uncharacteristic move for Slytherins, we decided to give him the truth. We trust you, Ms Granger. It's that simple."

And they knew her weakness. Think of the innocent boy, Ms Granger, think of what he will read and hear and give him something to cling to, even if it's stretched so tight it no longer resembles truth....

"Why?" she asked, buying time as she considered her response. Her history was not that kind of book, not a glossing of truth to heal wounds but a deliberate revelation of brutal facts.

"We watched what you did for Severus. We saw you treat him with dignity and honour. We believe that is your nature, and perhaps we are self-seeking enough to take advantage of it." The corner of his mouth twitched and belatedly she realised those grey eyes held a distinct twinkle.

"I did what anybody..."

"Nobody."

"...would have done."

"And have paid dearly for it."

"We've all paid dearly for the war."

He nodded and gave a half-shrug. Now he was the one avoiding her eyes.

"Are you certain you wouldn't like a spot of..."

His eyes snapped back to hers. "I'm offering my memories to you." He waited for her to respond, and when she didn't immediately he added, "They will take more than one phial. Many more."

Her breath caught.

He was offering her what Severus refused. The Malfoys...the Malfoys!...were offering her the missing pieces.

"Severus won't be happy when he hears."

He smirked the smirk she'd seen so many times on Draco's features. "Do you think we care? Our relationship with Severus transcends issues of intimidation, I assure you."

"I have a new carton of phials," she said, breathless with anticipation. "Are you sure you don't..."

"Tea would be lovely."

Two hours later, his dark grey robe was folded neatly across the hard-backed chair and he stood beside her at her desk, charming the numbers onto the phials as she created them in her notebook. After she listed the last one, she fell back in awe.

Twenty-seven phials.

Only Harry and Ron had given her more.

Of course, she hadn't viewed these yet, and had no idea exactly what he'd given her. But somehow deep inside she knew he was giving her almost all the missing pieces, those things she couldn't know without cooperation from the other side and...

Twenty-seven phials.

His hand closed over hers. "You're trembling."

She nodded. "I do that sometimes. It's after-effects of Cruciatus."

"I know."

She darted a look up at him. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to bring up something that would make you uncomfortable."

"You're suffering the after-effects of torture you received in my home from my sister-in-law, and you're apologising for mentioning it?"

"It was a long time ago."

"He never deserved you."

It took a long time to sink in...to realise what he said, what he meant, and that his hand was still closed over hers.

And that the electrical sensations were doing their job.

"Well played, Lucius." Severus stood in the doorway and clapped slowly. "Though, surprising to see you sniffing after my leftovers."

"Yes," Lucius agreed, his tension only evident in the spots of colour high on his cheeks. "It's usually the other way around."

Hermione remained silent. The first pictures she'd seen of her husband with another woman had been Severus and Narcissa entering St Mungo's the day Scorpius Malfoy was born. It was the kind of thing an old friend might do, accompanying her to see her new grandson.

The later pictures of the two of them dining together and, once, huddled together whilst dashing through an icy rain at Christmas time, had looked less platonic.

She took deep breaths to still the electrical sensations dancing across her skin.

"I've Old Ogden's if you decide you want something stronger when you're through here," Severus said blandly, and withdrew.

Lucius slid his hand under her mass of tangled hair and ran his knuckles up and down her neck. The tingles followed. She jerked away, but he stopped her, held her neck still, leaned forward and murmured, "He has a magical tracer on you."

She nodded jerkily.

"But he has none."

She didn't respond.

"Why did you allow it?"

"It seemed appropriate at the time." She pulled away from him. "It still does." And then, she couldn't resist asking, "Why did you touch me again if you knew?"

"So he'd know." He ran his knuckle over the sharp ridge of her cheekbone but this time when she flinched away, he dropped his hand to his side. "Someone needs to take care of you, Hermione."

"I take care of myself."

The look of disdain he ran from her toes to the top of her head spoke volumes. "A day at a spa would do you wonders."

This time she was the one who expressed disdain. "Spas."

"At the very least, a thorough massage," he announced briskly. "You'd be surprised how much difference it can make."

"I'm not Narcissa."

"Indeed you're not."

"My mother didn't go to spas. Massages were things she and my father gave one another; they didn't pay strangers for them."

He cleared his throat. "My offer to send you for a massage might be considered questionable. Any offer to give you one myself surely would be."

She looked up. "I didn't realise you were offering. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have been so dismissive. But the answer is still, thank you, but no." She began moving his phials to the shelf with Narcissa's and Draco's. "It will take me a few days, possibly a week, to make this many copies. I'll owl you when they're ready for you to retrieve." And then, in a move as calculated as it was genuine, she whirled and took one of his hands in both of hers and squeezed it. It felt odd. Not just the tingles, but also the fact that she was holding Lucius Malfoy's hand.

She met his amused eyes and said simply, "Thank you."

At which point he lifted her hands to his lips and kissed her knuckles.

This time she jerked away.

"There was a time," he said quietly, "that he had honour. I don't know what changed him."

"There was a time when you had none," she replied. "What changed you?"

She turned away then and leaned forward on her desk, suddenly overwhelmed and tired. So much had happened, and she was so confused by it all. When she looked up, he was gone.

He had not gone back to Severus. Her door to the corridor was left ajar, and she heard his footsteps retreating down the dungeon corridor.

She braced herself against her desk and stared at the other door, the one where Severus had loomed. Her hands still tingled from Lucius Malfoy's touch.

Severus did not return.