Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Draco shot to his feet as soon as he realised who Severus was carrying. Disregarding the tortured screech of the antique chair against the floor, he drew his wand. When Lucius found himself the target, Draco only smirked slightly at the gobsmacked look on his father's face.

Severus gave Lucius a chilly smile. "I'll leave you to explain." At Lucius's splutters he chuckled darkly. "No, no, I cannot get in the way of a father-son reunion." He turned away from the open doorway and carried Granger away.

When he heard Severus's footsteps recede upstairs, Draco slowly lowered his wand and sat down.

He lazily flicked his wand at the other chair, pushing it out. "Have a seat, Father."

Just as Lucius gingerly lowered himself down, Draco flicked his wand again. To his disappointment, though not to his surprise, Lucius stayed seated on an invisible cushion of air.

"Such juvenile behaviour." His father shook his head, lip curling as he pulled the chair underneath himself. "I thought better of you."

"Likewise," Draco spat, and thrust his wand back into his robes, shifting his hands to the chair arms.

Lucius blinked and raised his eyebrows. "When have I ever behaved like an adolescent?"

"You know what I mean! Seems I was right all those months ago, after your precious Dark Lord fell and almost brought us down with him. You're back up to your old tricks."

"Now, Draco, I have nothing to do with the formation of this new law..."

Draco jerkily raised a hand to interrupt him. "I know that! It's hardly as if you have the influence anymore. What I want to know is why you're jumping at the first chance you get to replace Mother."

"Replace?" Lucius was on his feet, his face blotching an angry mottled red. "Your mother is irreplaceable."

"Then why duel Weasley for Granger?" Draco demanded.

"Because Severus wants her. She will be his wife, and mine too – although mine in name only. Still, I expect you to offer her all due respect, as she will be your step-mother too. If in name only."

"Really?" Draco sneered, "And what did Granger say about that?"

"Nothing yet, she had a bad reaction to the drawing room before we could discuss it."

'That explains what was up with Granger; she fainted.' Draco's jaw dropped. "You took Granger into the drawing room? Where Aunt Bellatrix tortured her?"

"I forgot," Lucius muttered, flicking his fingers as if the matter was of no concern to him.

'Prick.' Draco snorted contemptuously. "You haven't changed at all. All those atrocities you witnessed in our own home meant nothing to you. Oh, but I forgot: you participated in many of them."

His father paled, his skin acquiring a sickly hue that almost rivalled his pale blond hair. "You know nothing, boy. I did what I had to in order to keep us alive. Had you access to the transactions of my vault, you would know that I have donated to many worthy causes since the end of the war. Like funding war orphans through Hogwarts, regardless of their blood status."

Draco lurched to his feet. "If not for your following a madman in the first place, none of that would have been necessary!" He breathed deeply following his outburst. "You still believe pure-bloods are better than half-bloods or Muggle-borns. Don't try to tell me different, you only see the worth in Granger as what marrying her will do for your precious influence."

Lucius stared at Draco as if he'd never seen him before, an expression Draco had only seen once before, on that night after the Dark Lord fell for the final time. The night when Draco had been free to voice thoughts that would have got himself and his family killed were the Dark Lord still alive. The night when he argued with his father, ignored his mother's pleas and left the family home.

"I might not like Granger much, but I do respect her. In fact, I daresay I'll treat her with more respect than you will. I don't like the concept, but she will be my step-mother, and not in name only. Speaking of Granger, before I leave I want to know that she is really all right."

Dragging a hand across his face, Lucius looked haggard and weary. "If you don't trust me, surely you can trust Severus?"

He ignored the hurt in his father's voice, turning away. "I suppose so." He stalked over to the door, and tried the handle. When it refused to open, he turned to look at Lucius and spoke between clenched teeth, "Release the wards, father."

"No. Draco, we haven't talked in far too long. Even at Narcissa's funeral, you didn't speak a word to me. And we need to talk now."

"Presuming that you manage to persuade Granger to marry you – which, by the way, is unlikely, as in my experience she can't be manipulated – I'll attend the wedding."

"Your confidence in me is so reassuring," Lucius drawled. "But what I wanted to talk about is your own nuptials."

Draco spun around, backing against the door. He contemplated drawing his wand, before he remembered something from his mother's last letter before she fell ill. '...please give your father a chance...'

"Fine. Talk."

"I know you blame me for the current state of the Malfoy reputation, but I am doing all I can to restore it. You could help with that by marrying a witch of sufficiently high status. Perhaps Ginny Weasley? I hear that she survived the plague. Yes, she would be perfect. A pure-blood, perfect for continuing the Malfoy line."

"You think the Malfoy name and lineage is all that I care about?" Draco laughed derisively. "It's high time that the Malfoy line had fresh blood in it." He laughed harder at the gormless expression on Lucius's face. Stunned disbelief suited him.

He turned the doorknob, satisfied to see it was mobile again. "I'll be sure to send you an invitation. Goodbye, father." He Disapparated, slipping through the open wards before Lucius could close them against him.

* * *

Once upstairs, Severus made his way to his usual guestroom. The door-elf briefly appeared to open it, although Severus could have easily managed the small amount of wandless magic necessary.

Instead, he wandlessly drew back the covers on the bed as he walked over to it. He laid Hermione down and straightened up, rubbing the ache from his arms and stretched his spine, feeling it click. While it had felt good to hold her close in his arms, it seemed that it did no favours for his body. Perhaps he needed to put on some weight before attempting to lift her again.

He looked down at Hermione, tapping his finger against his lower lip. Surely he could do better to make her comfortable ... Although tempting to use his hands, this was one instance where it was better to use otherwise foolish wand waving. A few swishes and flicks of his wand, together with accompanying non-verbal incantations, had her coat and boots off in seconds.

Severus frowned. Earlier, while in his arms, Hermione had been breathing shallowly, but more deeply than she was now; he could barely make out the rise and fall of her chest. He knelt down beside the bed, returned his wand to his pocket, and took hold of one of her hands with both of his. As he suspected, her breathing eased.

But what he didn't understand was the cause of this fainting attack. Clearly something had happened that Lucius had failed to tell him about, something that Hermione had also neglected to mention.

He moved one of his hands to brush a stray lock of hair away from her face, brushing his fingers across the soft, smooth skin of her cheek in the process. Intrigued, Severus brought his fingers back to gently stroke that velvety surface. What would it feel like for his lips to take the same path? The thought startled him, and he inhaled sharply, suddenly aware that he'd stopped breathing.

There was nothing to stop him. No one watching. Hermione wouldn't know. He leant down, his lips almost touching her skin when he stopped. He would know that he'd taken advantage of her vulnerable state, and that was enough.

Straightening up, he took his wand out once more. "Rennervate," he murmured, watching as Hermione's eyes opened before they screwed up, unaccustomed to the light.

He waited until she could keep her eyes open before he asked the questions he felt a burning need to have answered. "What happened?"

"I was about to ask that," Hermione groaned, and covered her face with her hands, slipping hers off his in the process. Within moments she flinched, hugging her arms around herself, her breathing uneven.

"Give me your hand," Severus said, holding his hand out to her.

She didn't hesitate, and gripped his hand tightly as her breathing eased. She sighed in relief. "That's better. I don't know what caused that attack right now, it's not as if I was tortured in this room."

It was only the need to stay in skin contact with her that kept Severus from leaping to his feet and pacing in his agitation. "You were tortured in the drawing room," he stated, a thin veneer of calm in his tone. "When did that happen?"

"Oh. You didn't know?" Hermione smiled sheepishly. "About two months before the war ended – maybe a little less, my memory's a little foggy – Harry managed to get us caught by Snatchers, who took us to Malfoy Manor. Bellatrix was there."

"And she decided to play with a Muggle-born?"

"No, she noticed the sword. Gryffindor's Sword. She wanted to know how we got it. Bitch hoped that the Cruciatus Curse and a little knife play would persuade me to talk."

Witness of many terrible things during his Death Eater days, Severus had seen and heard worse, but this sickened him, made his stomach churn with nausea. That Potter had Gryffindor's Sword at the time had been down to him, which made him at least partially responsible for Hermione's torture.

"Anyway, when I stepped foot into the – drawing room, did you say?" At his nod, she continued, "into the drawing room today, something took me back to the last time I was there. Not just to the memory either, it was as if I was being cursed again. But doesn't that happen with the Cruciatus Curse, feeling pain long afterwards?"

"It can, but only as muscular aches, and never triggered by revisiting the location where the curse was cast. You also seem affected by Malfoy Manor as a whole, not just the drawing room."

"Maybe the curse left me sensitive to places with a Dark atmosphere. Is there a spell to detect Dark magic?" she asked.

"Yes," Severus affirmed, and cast it, a red glow similar to the light cast by the Lumos charm hovering over his wand. "A non-verbal spell, and not one that I want you ever to be able to use, as it requires the caster to have used Dark magic." He moved his wand around, watching the steady glow for any flickering. "As can expected with the usage of the Manor in recent years, it is reeking of Dark magic."

He cancelled the spell. "But being the victim of the Cruciatus curse once does not result in sensitivity of the kind you clearly feel, even if the caster was Bellatrix Lestrange."

"Could it be a side-effect of the plague?" Hermione voiced the thought that had also occurred to Severus.

"Quite possibly. I hope not; apart from anything else, it has implications for the efficacy of the cure."

Severus was lost in thought for a while, staring into space as he absently stroked Hermione's hand with his thumb. He focussed on her when she spoke, and dragged his thoughts back to the present.

"Was Malfoy telling the truth when he told me that you're the reason he challenged Ron, because you want to marry me?" She was just resting her hand on his now, as if she would snatch it away despite the resulting discomfort if he said the wrong thing.

"He was, although I didn't ask him to do so. In fact I..."

"Advised him against it. He said that, too. He also said that you want to marry me because you... care for me."

"I do," Severus breathed, sure that to speak louder would somehow make her reject him.

"I don't know you very well. But I do trust you, and I certainly like you. Due to this harebrained law, I need to get married. Twice.

"But I owe my life to you," Hermione stated, looking steadily at Severus. "Gratitude is not a healthy foundation for a marital relationship."

At first, Severus didn't understand what she meant. Then he realised: she meant the cure. "I helped to develop the cure. Also, although you do not remember it, you helped Fawkes save my life. Neither of us have a debt to the other," he said, and squeezed her hand. She squeezed back, beaming at him.

"So that's how you survived!"

Severus peeled back his collar with his wand tip, showing her the unblemished skin where Nagini had bitten him. Hermione tentatively reached up to touch it, and paused as if for permission. Severus raised his head slightly, granting her access.

Just before she touched him, there was a knock at the door.

* * *

Hermione felt Severus's hand jerk, and had to hold on to it to prevent him from moving out of her reach as he stood and turned to face the door. As it was, Hermione had to sit up, bracing her free hand behind her to balance herself when she felt dizzy at the sudden movement.

The door swung open, Malfoy not waiting for an answer before he entered. He seemed to be leering, watching Severus and Hermione with a voyeuristic glint in his eyes, almost as if he had been expecting them to be snogging. He raised an eyebrow at their clasped hands.

"How touching," he murmured, just within audible range for Hermione.

Severus apparently heard him too, no surprise for a former spy and school teacher. "As a matter of fact, Lucius, if I do not touch her, she suffers from the Dark atmosphere of your home. Might I suggest that you get a curse breaker in?" To prove his point, he repeated his Dark-detecting spell, bathing Malfoy in the sick red light given off by his wand, which made the man look even more devilish than usual.

"Very well," Lucius murmured. "Now that we will not be interrupted, shall we discuss the matter at hand? Perhaps not here, it might be a little," a definite leer spread across his face, "cozy. Follow me."

It was a little awkward struggling into her shoes and coat with the need to keep hold of Severus, until he sighed and used magic.

Hermione looked up at him. He was smiling slightly, and shaking his head. Half-amused, half-exasperated, if she was any judge of Severus's moods.

"Thanks," Hermione murmured. She walked hand in hand with Severus after Malfoy, who led them down a richly carpeted corridor with portraits glaring out of their frames, and even the odd tapestry adorning the walls.

Malfoy stopped in front of a richly carved door. He opened it and stepped aside for his guests to enter first. Out of the corner of her eye, she observed Severus move his head toward Malfoy, although the only clue to his expression was the slight snort he made.

Any further contemplation on what Malfoy could be up to for Severus to react like that was wiped from Hermione's mind when she stepped inside. It seemed Draco hadn't been exaggerating much when boasting of the size of his family library. It was at least the size of Hogwarts' library, yet more spacious – perhaps due to the lack of desks and chairs to clutter the place up. It was also better lit, at least during the day, by the ceiling being made entirely of glass.

She took an involuntary step forwards when she took in the neatly arranged, almost overflowing bookshelves almost forming corridors and lining the walls. If she'd noticed them first, the rest of this beautiful room would have been overlooked. Whoever the architect had been had planned this room well.

Hermione stepped closer to the nearest bookshelf, itching to see the titles, and even keener to read them. In doing so, she lost her hold on Severus's hand.

A strangled gasp escaped her as an icy hand seemed to reach inside and grasp her lungs, squeezing the air out of her. Although the sun shone through the crystalline ceiling overheard, her surroundings seemed to darken. The only thing missing from her experience in the drawing room earlier on was the echo of the Cruciatus Curse.

Two large hands gripped hers, and the chill faded. She inhaled deeply, relieved that she could breathe properly again. One of the hands clutching her own was smoother than the other, and felt colder ... no, it was warm, but her hand could gain no heat from it. Hermione glanced down, puzzled, and found that Malfoy had taken one of her hands, while Severus had the other.

"Severus, let go for a moment." When he did so, Hermione hissed between her teeth as that intangible chilly hand returned, and wrenched herself out of Malfoy's grip, lunging for Severus and grabbed hold of him as if he were a lifeline.

"So it's not just the touch of another person you need," Malfoy mused. "It's Severus in particular. Interesting."

"Very," Hermione spat, and glared at Malfoy. Yes, it had been an experiment, but he'd just cavalierly ignored her obvious pain. She kept hold of Severus with one hand as she tugged him over to one of the sofas scattered around the room and sat down. "You wanted me to stay in order to listen to your spiel about why I should marry you. I'm here; I'm listening, so talk."

Malfoy settled into an armchair across from them, and smoothed the creases from his trousers. "Provided that you like the idea of marrying Severus, I do believe that I am your best choice of the required second husband. Assuming, of course, that you, like Severus don't like sharing."

Hermione frowned. What was Malfoy driving at? "Get to the point."

"Believe me, I am." Malfoy bared his teeth, the smile not reaching his eyes. "After the recent loss of my wife, I have no wish to be married. Yet by law I must. Beyond the necessary consummation, if you marry me, it would be a marriage in name only."

"I see," she said. She couldn't read Malfoy the way she could read Severus, but it did sound like the truth. A glance at Severus reinforced that notion, as he nodded slightly at her. 'Nothing whatsoever to do with my status as a war heroine, huh?'

Malfoy cleared his throat, probably readying himself to pile on a few incentives.

Hermione held up her free hand. "Save it. You want to marry me, Mr Malfoy? Fine. While it must be said that I'd marry you for your library alone, I have other requirements."

"Such as?" Malfoy asked cagily.

"Nothing too onerous." She looked again at Severus. "I want to help Severus with his research and development into a cure for this memory loss. As it's highly doubtful that the Ministry will cough up the funds, you can."

"Very well," he muttered, flicking his fingers dismissively. If he was as filthy stinking rich as reported, it was no wonder that he didn't bat an eyelash.

"Good, because I also want you to fund my campaign against the powers that be to restore equal rights to witches. This law bans them from marrying Muggles, so banning them from marrying whomever they please. While it never even crossed my mind to marry a Muggle, I find it outrageous that the Wizengamot dictates in this way."

This time Malfoy actually blanched, much to Hermione's satisfaction. "Narcissa probably spent more on clothes and shoes during the time we were married," he said under his breath, right on the edge of Hermione's hearing. "As you wish," he continued, raising his voice into more audible levels. "If that's all, is my word sufficient, or do you require a vow? Or a prenuptial agreement?"

"A prenuptial agreement might draw undue attention from the Ministry," Severus murmured.

"Good point." Out of sight of Malfoy, shielded by Severus's hand, she stroked him with her thumb. Hermione turned her attention back to Malfoy. "I should insist on a vow, but that wouldn't be a very auspicious start to this marriage."

Tugging on Severus's hand, she climbed to her feet. "It's time for me to leave. Harry knows I came here, he'll be storming the place soon if I don't hunt him down for his lecture on his part in the damn duel." She gave both men a dark look. "I haven't forgotten your parts in it either. Let me assure you, you'll regret it." She gave them a chilly smile.

Malfoy stood, and walked over to her. He gave her an indulgent smile and bent over her free hand, planting a kiss on the back of it with warm, dry lips. "Of course. I shall look forward to it."

Hermione was vaguely surprised that she had no urge to wipe her hand on her clothes. For all his good looks, the man had a repulsive personality, or had possessed one before her illness as far as she knew.

"I'm glad to hear it." She looked down at the still-seated Severus. "Would you mind escorting me to the gates?"

He got to his feet. "It's time I left, too. I'll see you anon, Lucius."

They got as far as the library door when Hermione called back over her shoulder: "You can start by meeting my parents." Severus flinched slightly beside her, but the dismayed expression on Malfoy's face more than made up for the twinge of guilt she felt at her friend's – no, fiancé's – reaction. After all, he'd have to meet them too.

AN: Many thanks to septentrion and JunoMagic for betaing.