This is only my second attempt at a Harry Potter based fanfic. I hope you like it and my pairing.
Reviews and constructive criticism are always welcome.
"Draco be realistic" Hermione exclaimed in exasperation. "In what universe magical or otherwise is your father going to talk to me, let alone take any notice of what I am saying?"
"You know I wouldn't ask unless I was desperate" Draco implored, his grey eyes sad and pleading with his best friend. "Please Hermione, for me. I am at my wits end"
Hermione Granger sank down onto the small sofa behind her. What could she say? Much as she wanted to help Draco, she honestly didn't think she could: "But Draco"
"I know you hate my father" He cut in, pacing up and down in her office at the Ministry of Magic just as he had been for the last twenty minutes. "And with just cause, but I really do not know who else to turn to."
She looked at her friend, she couldn't ever remember seeing him so wound up or in such a state about anything, not even that fateful day at the Battle of Hogwarts when he had re-joined his parents. Hermione took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully.
"Draco, firstly I do not hate your father. Not anymore" She added quietly, taking Draco's hands in her own, both for reassurance and to stop the infernal pacing which was making her feel quite nauseous. She squeezed them gently. The fact that they had become friends at all amazed her sometimes, the strength of that friendship was almost unbelievable.
"You and I, we have been friends for too long now and are too close for me to hold a grudge. The past is the past, you have to move on. We are proof of that. And I can hardly hate someone I haven't seen in Merlin knows how long."
Draco smiled weakly at Hermione, why was she always so bloody smart and reasonable? Probably those were among the reasons why he was asking for her help now.
"There you are then" He tried a little reasoning of his own. "You haven't seen my father in so long, Hermione he has changed, honestly. You think if he hadn't I would care this much about him, be in the slightest be bit bothered about his well-being."
Hermione sighed, one thing about Draco that never changed was his stubbornness, an inherent trait she thought dismally. She did however see the logic behind her friend's reasoning but was still unconvinced that the elder Malfoy would even speak to her let alone listen to anything she might have to say.
"That might be the case Draco but…..but I stand by my original argument. However Lucius Malfoy has changed I am sure that he is never going to take any notice of a Mudblood like me."
"Don't, Hermione, please don't use that word." The plea came almost as a strangled hiss between his teeth. "I hate it and it reminds me of how horrible I was to you, we all were to you"
"And there you have it Draco" Hermione gestured helplessly releasing his hands. "No way is your father going to listen to me."
Why on earth had she agreed to this? Much as she loved her friend, she felt his faith in her abilities were on this occasion sadly misplaced.
It was almost four years since Hermione had stood on this very spot. She trembled at the all too vivid recollection, tugging her coat around herself. At least this time she was here of her own volition, well if emotional blackmail and severe arm twisting by your best friend could be deemed "of her own volition".
She could easily have apparated here or travelled by floo, Draco told her it would be fine, promising he would be there to meet her. But if Hermione were to put her demons about this house to bed, she needed to do this her way and her way meant walking along the cobbled pathway, overlooked on either side by tall immaculately trimmed hedges, to the imposing wrought iron front gates.
Even in the beautiful late evening sunshine, Malfoy Manor still scared the life out of her.
"Draco don't keep thanking me I haven't done anything yet and to be honest….well your father didn't even join us for dinner so I really am not….."
He cut her off quickly: "I know I know" He shrugged his shoulders. "But well…I cannot begin to imagine how hard it must be for you to even set foot this in this house again. The fact that you have, for me and my f… well thanks for that. Look I promised to floo call Astoria, let he know you had arrived ok and"
It was Hermione's turn to cut him off: "Go I will be fine, one decent thing I do recall about this house is the library" She smiled affectionately at Draco hoping her smile would pacify him.
Out in the huge hallway, Hermione was confronted with various doors and corridors. She might well recall the wonderful library that Malfoy Manor possessed but recalling where exactly it was located was another matter entirely. She toyed with the idea of just opening a door here and a door there but even that could take a while and she wasn't exactly sure she wanted to know what was behind some of the doors in the foreboding house.
A sudden crack behind her heralded the arrival of a house elf, who announced himself as Raffy and had apparently been sent by the young master in case Missy needed anything.
"Thoughtful as ever Draco and knowing me too well" Hermione mused to herself, before asking the small creature if it could tell her where the library was. After much worried tugging on its tatty gown and large ears Raffy told her where the room was located before disapparating rather quickly.
Hermione pushed open the large heavy door. The room was dimly lit by a roaring fire and two candles which burnt on either side of the vast stone mantel, this was her idea of heaven.
Inside the room were two oversized wing back leather chairs. They were some distance apart and faced the welcoming fire, maybe she would grab a book and make herself comfortable in one. A beautiful and expensive looking rug covered most of the polished wooden floor. Hermione slipped off her shoes, enjoying its luxurious feel on her bare feet, she padded across the room towards the spiral staircase which led to a mezzanine floor and even more glorious books. About to ascend the staircase Hermione's eye was drawn to a copy of The Timeless Art of Apothecary, she trailed her forefinger lovingly down the spine over the gold embossed writing and tugged it from the shelf. Opening the clearly well-thumbed volume Hermione was immediately absorbed in its pages, walking back to one of the inviting chairs and the crackling fire. Without looking up, she sat down.
She was all too easily lost in a good book and this one was exceptional. She curled her long legs under herself, shifting the large volume in her lap and making herself comfortable. Its script and illustrations were simply exquisite and she sighed contentedly. Turning a page, Hermione glanced up for the first time. An audible gasp escaping her lips as her brown gazed collided with the inscrutable pale grey of Lucius Malfoy. He was, what could only be described as lounging quietly in the other chair across the room. She wasn't sure if she was more shocked by his actual presence in the room, which she clearly hadn't detected or by his appearance.
He smiled briefly, a smile which didn't quite reach his penetrating grey eyes.
"Good evening Miss Granger." He inclined his head in acknowledgement. "Draco told me you were here. How are you?"
Hermione fought to keep her reactions in check. His familiar aristocratic drool evoking all sorts of memories and emotions. But it was his unkempt appearance that strangely stirred the deepest feelings, not only was she shocked but she also found herself saddened.
"Good evening Mr Malfoy, I am well thank you."
She tried to keep her voice light and courteous, as if this conversation were an everyday occurrence.
"It was a shame you were unable to join us for dinner." She hoped her words sounded genuine and not sarcastic.
In truth she had anticipated he would join them, for Draco's sake if nothing else and had felt an odd sense of disappointment when he hadn't.
Casting her eyes back to the book Hermione avoided staring at Lucius Malfoy. His image reminding her of that dreadful day when Hogwarts was destroyed, it was the one and only time she could recall seeing him without his dress robes, that was until now!
Now he was clad entirely in black, the harshness of the colour accentuating his pallor. His impeccable tailoring a stark contrast to his physical appearance. The shirt was open at the neck, the two or three unsecured buttons exposing a column of naked alabaster skin and dark blonde chest hair. The most skin she had ever seen on display. He wore black trousers, they clung to his clearly muscled legs which were elegantly crossed revealing polished leather boots. Unusually for Lucius Malfoy he was devoid of any jewellery and his serpent headed cane was conspicuous by its absence.
Hermione tried to observe him surreptitiously from beneath her lashes, not wanting to appear rude, hoping the dim light would conceal her line of vision a little. His usually lustrous blonde hair, was lank and unwashed. It had always hung like a curtain of gold around his, much as she hated to admit, strikingly handsome face. Today it straggled across his broad shoulders in an uneven mess. His angular features hidden beneath a dirty looking stubble. Hermione could understand why Draco was worried about his father.