Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Thud.

Hermione groaned. She lay where she was in the chill air, disoriented. She'd been asleep, dreaming – no, having a nightmare; a dream wouldn't make her feel like this – and then she was awake. There had been a jolt ...

"Hermione?" Severus's voice came from somewhere above her.

She opened her mouth to respond, but only a dry croak escaped. Hermione grimaced. Her tongue felt like sandpaper.

"Lumos."

Hermione's eyes screwed up against the sudden light. She cautiously blinked them open, one hand raised to give them time to adjust.

"Are you all right?"

Finally she could squint up at Severus without being blinded by the glowing tip of his wand. He was leaning over the edge of the bed, frowning down at her.

"Hermione?" His frown deepened.

Oh, right. The question. Hermione grimaced as she sat up, several aches and pains in her shaken body making themselves known. "Water," she rasped.

One glass of Conjured water later and she was clambering back into the warm bed.

"Nox. Are you..."

"Nightmare. Fell out of bed." Hermione cringed. It had been years since she'd done that, maybe even a decade.

"I know that much. A mere dream wouldn't have you thrashing about so much that you kicked me. Were you trying to escape something?" Severus asked as he wrapped his arms around her.

"Sorry." Hermione muttered wretchedly, and turned her head to press her lips against his shoulder. She could only hope that she hadn't kicked him too hard. Come to think of it, though, had she fallen out of the bed or been pushed? If so, they were even.

He brought a hand up to stroke her hair. "Not your fault. What was it about?"

She thought back, working through the hazy memories of her disoriented awakening. Only the horribly familiar feeling of déjà vu awaited her. "I can't remember."

"Ah. So it was too much to hope that those had stopped."

"Presuming that they're the same recurring nightmare. But I'll take having them every month or so to having them every few days."

"I'd rather you did not have to suffer them at all." They lay in silence together for a minute until Severus haltingly continued. "I... I'm powerless to stop them. They don't seem to recur in the same night, so Dreamless Sleep is useless. And using it cannot be used as a precautionary measure as it is highly addictive."

He sighed heavily. "That you cannot remember them after you wake means that I can't talk you through them and deal with your demons that way."

Hermione looped a leg around his to cuddle up to him fully, from head to toe. "This helps. Nothing is worse post-nightmare than struggling through the fear alone. After nightmares, I never could get back to sleep. With you, I can."

"Mmm. Good."

"There's a reason why you're the only one who can do that for me."

"Mmm."

"Severus, I... this is something I've been wanting to say for a while."

"Hmm?"

Hermione opened her mouth, only for her courage and voice to fail her.

'Come on, just say it. It's three words. You can do it.'

"I love you," she whispered. Hermione held her breath as she waited for his response.

He snored.

Typical. It would be so much harder to repeat by the light of day, too. Unless ... unless he was only feigning sleep?

Her heart skipped a beat. The implications of that didn't bear thinking of. Either he wasn't ready for such a confession, or ...

Or he didn't feel the same.

'Come off it! By his own words – and actions – there's nothing he wouldn't do for me. If that's not love, I don't know what is. No, he must be asleep. And I should be, too ...'

Hermione shifted her head from Severus's shoulder to rest beside his head on his pillow. She yawned widely, thoughts slowing as sleep neared.

'Tomorrow. But ... don't want to put him on the spot. Should wait. Let him ...'

Sleep claimed her.

* * *

Hermione and Severus emerged downstairs after a leisurely shower together. Lucius glanced up as they entered the dining room. He raised a knowing eyebrow at their damp hair – something that made Hermione's cheeks burn – before he returned to scowling down at a letter in his hands.

As Hermione sat down next to him, Severus at her side, she saw that it wasn't a letter but a card, gilded and embossed. A wedding invitation, then.

"Draco?" Severus asked.

In answer, Lucius held out the invitation to Hermione. She flicked it open, held so that both she and Severus could read it.

'Ah. I see. Oh, Draco, for once can't you give him a break?'

It was a mass produced invitation, one sent out to any prospective guest. Not the sort of thing to send to one's father, unless it was to hammer home paternal-filial estrangement. There was a more personal postscript, but that was pointedly addressed to Severus and Hermione herself; asking them to stand with the happy couple...er, trio. No, wait: it was couple. Ginny and Draco. Harry's best man would be Ron, of course.

"I've already sent our RSVP." Lucius rose to his feet. "I'll be in my aviary. Let me know when you're ready to leave for the Ministry archives."

Hermione watched him walk away, his gait stiff. Turning back to the table after the door shut, she met Severus's gaze. He'd also been watching Lucius leave. As badly as he'd been getting on with Lucius recently, there was no trace of enjoyment of Lucius's obvious pain in Severus's eyes. Only pity, mingled with something that might have been concern if it was stronger.

That was promising ... and a relief, to be honest, as Hermione knew that she'd inadvertently damaged the friendship between Severus and Lucius. It was good to know that the damage might not be fatal to that friendship. Come to think of it, things had improved in the past week or so. She couldn't put her finger on what changed, but there seemed to be less tension when both men were in the same room.

Whatever it was, Hermione mused as she tucked into her muesli, it was no thanks to Lucius. His behaviour hadn't changed at all. For all that he claimed that he only wanted friendship, Hermione was well aware that he would not be averse to more. Not that he would get it; physically attractive as he was, Lucius simply wasn't Severus.

That left Severus ... Before Hermione could begin to wonder what on earth Severus could have done to alleviate the bad feeling with Lucius, an owl flew through the window apparently left open for it. That morning's Daily Prophet dropped from the owl's talons to be caught deftly by Severus before it could land in the dregs of Hermione's breakfast.

Severus unfolded it, his eyes scanning the front page. "Well, that makes a change," he muttered.

Hermione swallowed her last spoonful. "What?" she asked as soon as her mouth was clear.

"It's a fairly sensible article on the addendum. Of course, it asks more questions than it answers ... and of course we haven't escaped a mention."

"What now?" Hermione groaned, and slumped back in her chair.

"A list of those sterile. We're prominent on it."

All things considered, that was hardly surprising. At least it hadn't become public knowledge – well, beyond the news of Severus's arrest and the accompanying assumptions – until after the addendum was enforced.

"It also lists those unions annulled. Thanks to an amendment ..." Severus glanced up at Hermione, clearly suspecting that she was behind it. "... it only affects marriages where it is only the wife, or one or both husbands. Hmm. And in the case of the latter, there's a lottery of sorts. Only some of the one-fertile-husband-unions are split as it depends on how many fertile witches need husbands."

Hardly fair, but it was still better than every marriage with a sterile spouse being annulled.

"Those sterile who are now unmarried are still subject to the law. They can't have anyone not in polyandrous marital bliss, apparently."

They both snorted in mutual disgust at that. Was it too much to hope that the Wizengamot would change? That it would become a little less patronising and dictatorial in the not-so-distant future? Hermione suspected that it was both overoptimistic and naïve to boot to hope so.

"Just as well Lucius did take that potion too, then. Or we would have one of these newly single sterile wizards after a place in my marital bed." Hermione shuddered at the thought.

Severus squinted, presumably at some small print. "How insulting ... if a fertile wizard happens to be part of an otherwise sterile union – one of those spared annulment – there is a monetary encouragement for him to marry a Muggle."

She sighed. "Somehow that doesn't surprise me. They really want as many of the magical population as possible to go forth and multiply."

"Quite. I wouldn't be surprised if in the distant future, when more witches have been born and have come of age, that the Wizengamot interferes further to marry them off."

"Annul some more marriages, you mean?"

He nodded. "Where there is one fertile wizard in the present matches."

That would be just like the powers that be. All the more reason to come up with an alternative, better solution before the Wizengamot could interfere with the next generation.

"There's also a list of those arrested: both those who missed their appointments – apparently even being deathly ill is not a good enough excuse, as it should mean that one was already in St Mungo's – and those who sterilised themselves."

"Anyone we know?" she asked. By the way Severus grimaced there was someone familiar there.

"Argus Filch. Of course ... Irma Pince is past her menopause and Filch must have wanted to ensure he stayed with her. The fool! Why didn't he come to me?" The Prophet crumpled in Severus's fingers.

Hermione laid her hand on his arm. She didn't care much for Filch, but she could sympathise ... and he must have been a friend of sorts to Severus. That alone was reason enough to care for the crotchety caretaker's fate.

"He must know of my role in the cure and the fact that it was funded by the Ministry ... he probably thinks I'm still in their pocket," Severus spat bitterly.

"Hopefully he won't be in too much trouble; it's not as if he's a wizard."

"Quite. But he still has enough magic in him to see Hogwarts ... I'll have to speak to Kingsley, see if there's anything he can do." Severus stroked his hand over hers before smoothing the paper out and resuming his reading and running commentary.

"Hah. Listen to this: 'Much to the disappointment of Gladys Gudgeon, Gilderoy Lockhart and other permanent patients of St Mungo's are exempt from both law and addendum.' Seems there's still some lines the Wizengamot won't cross."

"Yet," Hermione added darkly. She was willing to bet that if this Gladys Gudgeon wasn't past it, the Wizengamot would make an exception for her. It was Lockhart's memory that was gone, after all, not his virility.

Severus made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. "In their infinite generosity, the Wizengamot will 'allow' the witches who already happen to be pregnant with males to carry them to term."

"And what about recovery time?"

He read on for a minute or two before answering. "They allow the full year, but only because there are some things that it is detrimental for magic to interfere with."

Well. That was better than nothing, even if it was for all of the wrong reasons.

Severus turned the page. He tensed, his eyes riveted on something in the newsprint. "Ah. Just as well this," he tapped the Prophet, "arrived after that." He pointed at the invitation where it lay on the table. "They've posted marriage banns already."

Hermione winced. The invitation couldn't have arrived much earlier than the Prophet owl ... that really didn't bode well for how warm Lucius's welcome would be at the wedding in a fortnight.

* * *

When Hermione sat down for dinner at Harry, Ginny and Draco's reception, it suddenly occurred to her that she couldn't remember much of the wedding itself. Despite the fact that it took place mere hours earlier, it was a blur.

'At least I can be certain this memory lapse is nothing to worry about,' Hermione mused, furiously attempting to smother the blush she could feel on her cheeks before it could spread over her décolletage. She failed as a warm hand joined hers in her lap. Hermione glared at Severus where he sat smirking beside her and caught that hand in hers before it could slip between her thighs.

Incorrigible man. While flattering that he couldn't seem to get enough of her today, if he actually engaged his brain for a moment, he wouldn't want to risk being caught in public.

Clearly she would have to make sure that he didn't shag them both senseless before important events in future.

Oh, and while she was thinking about resolutions like that ... not to be late to aforementioned important events as a result of said shagging. She could remember that much! Her glower strengthened as his smirk faded.

"What?" Severus breathed as he bent close to her under the pretext of examining the menu.

"Nothing, darling. Other than the fact that we're lucky that the happy cou...trio were more inclined to snigger at us than fume. You're Draco's best man. I'm the bridesmaid. We're meant to make sure that the wedding goes as planned, not ensure its delay!"

"Hermione..."

She cut him off as soon as the last syllable of her name slipped past his lips. "And what about Lucius? What sort of friends are we, doing things like that – rubbing it in – when we should be trying to make sure things go well between him and Draco?"

"Don't worry," Lucius put in, leaning close on Hermione's other side. She scowled; he wasn't supposed to hear that. "You provided me with some quality entertainment."

Hermione barely resisted the urge to drop her head onto the table and groan. That would make a scene, and was hardly the sensible thing to do when dinner was going to appear at any moment. She settled for closing her eyes and kneading at the bridge of her nose.

'Men! They're all the same.'

* * *

"Are we okay?" Harry asked softly.

"Huh?" Hermione looked up from her empty pudding bowl. Harry had swapped seats with Lucius, allowing him to attempt to talk to Draco while Harry had a more private word with her.

"I mean, you did tell Ginny that I was forgiven, but ... I haven't heard from you." Harry was poised on the edge of the seat, as if ready to flee at any moment.

Hermione threw an arm around his shoulders to give him a one-armed hug – despite her vocal displeasure, she hadn't banished Severus's hand from her lap.

"Sorry. I did mean to. It's a pretty pathetic excuse, I know, but..."

Harry hugged her back. "That's okay. You've been rushed off your feet. And even if this new part of the law doesn't ..." he trailed off, looking anywhere but at her.

"Even if the addendum doesn't affect me, I'm still trying to find an alternative so it can be overturned. And preferably something that means the whole bloody law can be scrapped."

"Yeah, that." Harry sagged in relief. Poor thing obviously didn't feel comfortable touching on those sort of personal problems, the typical bloke. "Er, if there's anything I can do to help ..."

"I'll let you know." And Harry Potter's influence could potentially be very useful ...

"Mind you, it's probably best that you didn't write to me or see me right after you forgave me."

"Let me guess, you almost sent me a Howler."

Harry nodded sheepishly and rubbed at the back of his neck. "It did take me a while to get used to the idea of Draco as the one I have to share Ginny with. But you were right: Draco has changed."

Hermione took a sip of her champagne and held it on her tongue, savouring the taste.

"He's growing on me," Harry confided.

Hermione glanced quizzically at him. The slight flush on his cheeks and the dreamy look in his eyes said it all. She choked.

Both Severus and Harry patted her on the back.

"Too much information, Harry!" she croaked. Happy as she was for Harry, she really didn't need to know that.

Harry waited until Severus went back to his conversation with Mr Weasley. "Does Sna...Severus and Lucius get along in the same way that I do now with Dra..."

"No!" Hermione grimaced. She could really do without picturing Harry in any sort of sexual situation. "They don't, and never have, at least as far as I know." Although come to think of it, that would explain the change in tension recently ...

'Oh, don't be ridiculous! Severus would no more break faith with me than I would with him, even assuming that tension was UST. It looked more like the green eyed monster to me.'

"...can't go back to Hogwarts," Mr Weasley was saying to Severus. "Harry and Draco finished their schooling last year, but no witches did. Ginny won't want to be apart from them, and she'll be pregnant soon."

"If she isn't already," Severus muttered.

Mr Weasley didn't take offence. "I know I should have kept Ginny at home. But with Molly ... well, every Weasley sought comfort where they could find it. I did with Andromeda, Ginny did with Harry and now with Draco too."

Considering Mr Weasley's opinion of Malfoys, he – and his remaining children – did seem to be doing remarkably well coping with Draco in the family. And with sitting at the same table as Lucius, come to that. But after so much loss, perhaps it was no surprise that old grudges were laid to rest.

"Will Hermione go back?" Mr Weasley asked.

"She never went back in the first place, not really."

"Oh? But she went back to Hogwarts repeatedly before she fell ill, first helping with the rebuilding and then for lessons. Or at least that's what I heard from Ron."

"She came for private tuition. Ordinary schooling would have been a waste." On her lap, Severus's hand squeezed hers. It was quite a painful thought, that she'd lost so much knowledge thanks to the memory loss accompanying the cure. Until she found something to rescind the cure, she couldn't spare the time to repeat those forgotten lessons. And complete them, as she must have fallen ill in the autumn.

For now, all she could do was hope that Severus would be successful in his efforts to restore her memory. She squeezed back, all too aware that he was having about as much luck with that as she was with her campaign: namely none.

* * *

AN: Many thanks to Kribu, JunoMagic and Septentrion for betaing.