Chapter Seven:

Hermione shivered as she felt cool air against her bare skin. She pulled the unfamiliar sheets up over her and moved closer to the warm body beside her. The warm body of Lucius Malfoy. If the cool air hadn't woken her up, that realization certainly did.

She didn't know what to think about what had happened last night, what to feel. It was all so surreal, so unlike anything that had ever happened to her. She didn't know how to deal with it. This was Lucius Malfoy she was lying beside, that she was now married to. A former Death Eater, a bad man, one whom for a long time she thought deserved to be sent to Azkaban for life, one that she prayed had changed but feared that he hadn't. She had seen different sides of him, not many, but enough to know he couldn't be completely terrible. She knew that there was some compassion deep in there somewhere, that he wasn't all bad. But just because he wasn't evil, didn't make him a good person.

Lucius stirred beside her, pulling her closer to him. Hermione stilled, barely breathing as she watched him beside her. He looked so different sleeping. There was no smirk, no intimidating gaze, just a man like everyone else. His hand on her waist relaxed and he stopped moving. He seemed more content with her closer to him. It seemed like such an uncharacteristic thing to do. It seemed so normal, like something a real husband would do, like someone who cared for her would do. He was neither of those things. No matter what he did, or looked like, she couldn't help but remember that he was still Lucius Malfoy.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione tried to extract herself from Lucius's grip, slowly moving his hand off her waist and sliding over to the edge of the bed. When she saw that he was still asleep, she finally exhaled, and stood up. Hopefully, a shower would wash away the guilt she was feeling.

Feigning sleep, Lucius watched as his new bride climbed out of bed and hurried into the bathroom, dragging the top sheet along with her.

There certainly were perks in this forced relationship, and last night was one of them. Alone, he allowed himself to smile at the memory. Hopefully, there would be repeat performances in the future, though he doubted that she would agree without a lot of convincing first. Thankfully, he was good at manipulating people into seeing things his way; his new wife would be no different.

Yes, it would take time but eventually he would win her over, he was sure of that.

--------------------------

Hermione hurried into the bathroom, pulling the dark sheet closer around her body though she knew that no one could see her. Lucius was still asleep and they were alone in the Manor except for the house-elves. That didn't make her feel better, though she supposed it should. There was no Draco to walk in and make snide comments, no Pansy to glare in her direction, no Professor Snape to confuse her with unexplainable kind words. But she wished she wasn't alone. She wished there was someone else here to help her sort through all of this.

Everything was just so complicated right now. Last night had been so confusing, full of so many different emotions and being too afraid to express them. She didn't know what to do now. Did this change things between the two of them? Would he treat her differently now? Would he treat her worse? Would this be held over her head from now on? That was what she feared the most. That he would constantly bring this up, that he would degrade her somehow because of it. That he would use this against her.

She felt the tears begin to prickle behind her eyes and she desperately wanted them to stop. She wanted to stop feeling as if her life was out of her control. She wanted to feel like she had a say in what was happening, that she had choices. But wanting and having are two very different things.

Her tears began to come faster and she felt a sob escape her lips without her permission. This was just not how she imagined her life turning out. It was so far away from what she had imagined.

She fought back her tears long enough to stumble over to the shower and turn it on. She might not have been able to stop him from seeing her cry last night, but she would make sure that he didn't wake up to her crying this morning. If he could be strong about this situation, then so could she. She would be strong. If only she could stop crying.

-------------------------------

Lucius sat up slowly, taking in the sound of Hermione sobbing in the bathroom. The shower started quickly after, masking her cries, but he knew that she was still crying. She had cried the night before and it had disturbed him greatly. He had never known how to deal with crying women; he had barely known how to deal with Draco as a child when he had cried. But he had thought that Hermione had moved on, that the evening had been enjoyable for them both. So then why was she still crying?

Hearing her crying made him feel like he had caused it, almost remorseful because of it. It was not a feeling he was accustomed to and it was not a feeling that he liked.

He didn't have feelings for Granger, he didn't like her and he certainly didn't love her, nor did he ever want to like or love her. But he did not want her to miserable either. A miserable wife was a help to no one and it would only serve to make both of their lives harder. He didn't need that.

He couldn't help but think that perhaps it would be best for everyone involved if he just left her alone. The manor was a large place; she'd find plenty to do without him, and he was sure that she would prefer it that way. He knew he certainly would. They would see each other for meals, in the evening for bed, and public events, but there was no reason to be around each other more than that. For his plan, he only needed her to look the ever doting wife when there were others around. As much her trust would benefit him, it wasn't necessary and it certainly didn't seem forthcoming. It was not as if this was a real marriage, it was not as though he wanted to spend his time with a woman like her. Yes, perhaps that was how it should be. Perhaps it would be the best for the both of them.

--------------------------

Hermione stepped out of the bathroom, pulling her robe around her closer. She had been in such a hurry to escape into the bathroom that she had forgotten her clothes. She glanced over at the bed, but it was now empty. Lucius must have woken up while she was in the shower. She couldn't help but wonder if he was coming back or if she was going to have to go in search of him. She hoped that he would come back on his own, so she didn't have to deal with the embarrassment of finding him.

She hurried over to the wardrobe, pulling out a pair of dress-robes instead of the normal jeans and sweater she usually wore when spending the day at home. There was no need to give Lucius a reason to bring up her muggle heritage any sooner than necessary. Just because she had finally settled down from this morning, that she had made the decision to be strong, knowing it was the only way this marriage could work, didn't mean that she ready for a fight. Merlin knew there would be enough of those in the next six years, no need to have one when they had only been married one day.

Hermione dressed slowly, taking the time to do her hair, carefully brushing out the knots before drying it, instead of just putting it up into a messy bun and letting it dry on its own like she normally did. When she was done, Lucius still hadn't returned and she had nothing else to keep her in the room.

Realistically, she knew it was her own room and that she could stay in it as long as she wanted, but she felt as if she didn't belong. Nothing other than her clothing in the wardrobe was even hers; it all screamed of Lucius, just like everything else in the house. She felt like she stood out from everything else, like a misplaced piece of clay pottery on a shelf full of crystal vases. In time she would get used to the manor, know her way around, but even after six years were over, she didn't think that she would ever feel as though she truly belonged there.

------------------------

When Hermione found Lucius in the dining room, he was already eating his breakfast with the paper spread out in front of him. He acknowledged her entrance with a nod, but nothing more.

Confused by his actions, Hermione sank down in her own chair across from him. Food appeared in front of her a moment later. She began to eat quietly, glancing up at Lucius every few minutes. He had barely even looked up from the paper since she came into the room and the only time that he did was to pick up his tea, or rearrange the paper, never to look at her, not even to look in her direction.

She didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to act. This was not the first meal they had eaten in silence, but it was the first meal they had eaten in silence alone. She felt like she should say something, break the tension that was all too apparent to her, but she didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to start a conversation with him. There had always been a reason to talk to him, never a want. Right now, she desperately wanted to talk to him, to know what was going on in his mind. She wanted him to tell her…she didn't know what she wanted him say. She just wanted him to say something.

A moment later, he put down the paper and pushed back his chair. "I have some business that needs attending." He told her. "I'll be in my study. You shouldn't expect me for lunch."

"I-I thought during the honeymoon period it was customary for neither person to do any work." Hermione said, looking at him wide-eyed. She had been hoping that he would break the silence, but not that way.

"Yes, and if this was a real honeymoon, I would follow that custom," He drawled. "As it is not, I'll see you at dinner."

He swept out of the room, and all Hermione could do was watch him. This was much worse than him holding last night over her head, so much worse than him expecting it to happen again. He was acting as though it never happened at all.

---------------------------------------

After breakfast, Hermione retreated to the library not knowing where else to go. Lucius was her only company and he had made it clear that she wouldn't be seeing him until dinner, if she was lucky enough to see him then.

As she entered the library, it suddenly seemed much larger than before. Instead of being a warm, comforting haven for her, it seemed empty and cold, another reminder of how alone she was right now. She could see Lucius's presence everywhere, screaming out at her, telling her that she didn't belong there and she never would, reminding here that she was all alone here, without her friends, without her family, and without even the company of a Slytherin .

Drawing her robes closer, she sat down at the large wooden desk on the far side of the room, pulling out a piece of parchment to write her friends. She knew that they would be worried about her and some sort of reassurance that Lucius hadn't done away with her already would comfort them. And maybe they'd write back right away and hearing from them would allow her to feel connected to someone.

She knew that she was being silly, that this should be everything that she wanted. That him staying away from her, that him not talking to her, not doing things to confuse her should be everything that she wanted. But it wasn't. Last night, as confusing as everything had been, for a few moments, after everything was done, she felt surprisingly safe. He hadn't hurt her, he had had a gentle touch, he was nothing like she had expected, and before she fell asleep she thought that there was a possibility that everything was going okay. That somehow, together, they would make this work. They would never be true husband and wife, they would never be friends, but they would be partners.

When she woke up, all of her doubts had come crashing back down on her and she had been terrified again. She had been terrified about what had happened, about everything that would happen. In the shower, as she talked herself down off that emotional cliff, she had clung to that feeling from last night. She had held onto the feeling of a connection between the two of them. Now she felt like she had lost that, she felt like he had given up the chance of a partnership before it even had a chance to begin. She didn't know why, but it hurt and it left her feeling small and inadequate.

Dipping her quill into the ink, she pushed her feeling aside as she began writing her friends. She wrote to Harry and Ron first, assuring them that she was safe and telling them about her plan to stay locked up in the library all day, far away from Lucius, as if it had been her idea all along. She made no note of what had transpired the night before or the loneliness that had already begun to seep in. Instead, she insisted that she was fine, but that she couldn't wait for two weeks to get to see them again. At least that was the truth.

She placed her letter to the side, so the ink could dry, and pulled out another piece of parchment to write to Ginny. She wanted to tell Ginny everything that had had happened, wanted to let it all out to her so Ginny could make sense of what she was feeling and tell her she wasn't crazy for feeling like she did. However, she couldn't do that, not even with Ginny. Lucius certainly wouldn't like it, and Ginny never kept anything from Harry whom wouldn't be able to deal with the situation. She wasn't sure even Ginny could deal with the situation. Not with everything that had happened in the past. Ginny's letter ended up much like Harry and Ron's, without some of the false assurances that she knew that Ginny would be able to see through that Harry and Ron would not.

She waited for the ink to dry before rolling up each parchment and sealing them both with her wand. She wasn't sure where the Owlery was, though she knew for a fact the manor had one, so instead she called for Dippy the house-elf that had been assigned to her. She didn't like the idea of having her own house-elf that had to do everything that she told her to do, but right now there wasn't anyone else to ask for help.

Dippy appeared a moment later, bowing to Hermione. "Yes, Mistress? How can Dippy help Mistress?"

"You don't have to call me Mistress, Dippy." Hermione told her. "You can call me Hermione."

"No, no, no. Dippy knows her place, Mistress. I am to call you Mistress and Master, Master." Dippy said, shaking her head vehemently.

Hermione didn't like the idea of being called Mistress; she didn't like the idea of being Mistress of the manor. It wasn't who she was. It was what people like Narcissa were, it was what people like Pansy grew up to be, what they were bred for. Hermione wasn't bred for this life. She was bred for the working life, for a life where she and her husband would work, where they would both contribute to the household. The title Mistress came with a stigma and it was not one that she wanted to deal with any more then she had to.

"Well, then how about this?" Hermione said, "Call me Mistress Hermione. Can you do that?"

"If that is what Mistress wants, that it is what Dippy will do." She said. "How can Dippy help Mistress Hermione?"

"I have two letters that I wanted to send, but I have no idea where the Owlery is." Hermione explained. "Can you please take them and send them?"

"Of course, Mistress." Dippy said, quickly taking the rolls of parchment from Hermione.

"Thank you Dippy. The first one goes to Harry Potter and the second to Ginny Weasley." Hermione said, smiling at the elf.

"I will do this right away." Dippy said, nodding her head. "Does Mistress Hermione need anything else?"

"No, I'm fine Dippy." She said. The elf nodded her head before disappearing with a pop.

Hermione sighed once she was gone, feeling alone again. How sad was it that she longed for the company of house-elf who couldn't even say her name without putting a title in front of it.

Trying to forget where she was and the reasons she was there, Hermione began to search for a book to lose herself in for the rest of the day.

----------------------

Hermione read until Dippy came back, telling her that lunch was ready for her. As she sat at the large dining room table, all by herself, she suddenly didn't feel very hungry. She didn't know what to think about breakfast. She wasn't sure what she had expected of Lucius, but it wasn't that. Professor Snape had been right when he told her that Lucius was not a good man, nor a righteous one, but after last night she had begun to believe what else he had told her; she was a Malfoy now and would be treated differently because of that. If this was how Malfoys were treated, she didn't know why anyone would ever willingly become one.

Maybe that was the problem. She didn't know. She had been raised in a muggle home, the only pureblood relationship she had seen was Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and she had a feeling that their relationship was nothing close to being normal. They had married for love and love alone, unlike most purebloods who married to gain a higher standing, money, and the promise that future generations of their family would remain pure. From what she understood, there was nothing uncommon about arranged marriages in the wizarding world; it was considered normal. Maybe, despite the different reasons for their marriage, this was normal to Lucius. Maybe this was how he had treated Narcissa at first.

He hadn't been cruel to her, at least not by Malfoy standards. He hadn't called her foul names, he hadn't held last night over her head, he hadn't mocked her or tried to make her uncomfortable. He had said that this wasn't a real honeymoon and he was right. What had happened last night had only happened because it had to. There would be no repeat performances, no matter how surprisingly gentle and caring he had been. This wasn't a real honeymoon, this wasn't even a real marriage; there was no reason to be upset that he had the courage to say it out loud when she didn't.

So what if he had been silent throughout the meal? So what if he wasn't joining her now? If she wanted this partnership to work, then she was going to have to be willing to give him what he needed. And if that was time away from her, then she would just have to accept that. It wasn't as though she wanted to spend time with him. She never knew what to say to him, she was always on guard around him, he knew how to push her buttons like nobody else, and every time he was within two feet of her, she felt the need to run to the other side of the room. She didn't like him. She didn't understand him. She was even slightly frightened of him. Was it childish of her to want him to like her despite that? Was it wrong of her to want her husband to accept her?

--------------------------------------

Lucius took his place at the dinner table promptly at seven o'clock. He nodded his head, acknowledging her presence as he had done that morning, before beginning to eat. Hermione picked up her own fork a moment later, starting on her own dinner.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the table, despite Hermione's resolve not to let Lucius's actions get to her. They were married to one another, they had slept together, and yet they couldn't even make conversation across the dinner table with each other. It felt wrong to her. Everything about this marriage seemed wrong to her.

"Did you have a productive day?" Hermione asked. Her voice seemed much louder then she had intended, it seemed to almost echo off the walls. It must have been all the time she had spent in silence that day; it was beginning to get to her.

He looked up from his plate, eyeing her warily before he answered. "Yes, quite productive."

"That's good to hear." Hermione said nodding her head. She hoped that if she started talking she could get him to continue. It didn't have to be about anything important. She would talk about the weather, she would talk about quidditch as long as it would break the unbearable silence.

"I spent most of my day in the library," She continued. "You really do have an exquisite collection."

"Yes, I do." Lucius agreed.

He didn't say anything after that. He hadn't had to. In that three word sentence, he had reminded her of just who she was dealing with, of whose home she was in. He had reminded her of who had the power and it was not her.

Hermione did not find a reason to speak again during dinner. The silence suddenly seemed very welcome.

-------------------------------

Lucius left the table as soon as he was finished eating. He told her that he was retiring to the library and that he was not to be disturbed before sweeping away. She felt like crying. The one place she had felt remotely comfortable and he had taken it away for the night, reminding her that it was never hers to begin with.

Pushing away her barely touched plate, she tossed her cloth napkin on the table and stood up, making her way out of the room and up the stairs to her room—their room— for an early night. Perhaps when she woke up things would be different. Perhaps things would be better.

As she walked to their rooms, she couldn't help but pause as she passed the library.

She could see him sitting by the fire in the same chair she had sat in all day, a rather large brandy in his hand. He seemed so cold, so distant sitting there. Everything she had suspected him to be but had hoped terribly that he wouldn't be.

She felt the familiar sensation of tears prickling her eyes, and she hurried past the library doors and into their rooms. She did not want him to see her cry. Not again.

Closing the door behind her, she closed her eyes and slid down to the floor, the entire day hitting her. This wasn't what she wanted. This was so far from what she wanted. Everything that she had feared was beginning to fall into place and it terrified her. For a while, she had been able to convince herself that things were going to be fine, that everything was going to be okay. She had spent so much time telling everyone else that this was going to work out that she had begun to believe her own lies. She had begun to think that as long as they worked together, they could do this. She had believed that somehow, they could put their differences aside and it would work, but it had been one day, one day and she already wanted out. She wanted to leave and go home. She wanted to be in her own flat, in her own room. She wanted to be with her friends, be with Harry and Ron, be with the Weasleys, the Order, she wanted to be anywhere that wasn't here. He hated her. He looked down on her. He could barely stand to talk to her. Marriage, sex, and everything else that had happened didn't and couldn't change that. No matter how much she wanted them too.

Forcing herself off the ground, Hermione staggered over to the wardrobe, pulling out the first nightgown she found. She forced herself to breathe evenly as she entered the bathroom, closing the door before quickly changing out of the robes that felt like they were suffocating her and into the loose red nightgown she had grabbed. She found that she no longer cared that the red might upset Lucius or clash with all the green around her. She found that she cared very little about anything at all.

Hermione glanced in the mirror to see a miserable tearstained face looking back at her. She looked pale and tired, much more tired than she should be at eight o'clock at night when she had spent her day reading. Hermione glared at her reflection in the mirror, at the proof of how weak she really was.

She didn't know how she was going to get through this; she didn't know how she was going to be able to convince people that she was happy when she was miserable. She didn't know how she was going to take living with him every day. And Hermione Granger hated not knowing things.

----------------------------

That was how the days continued. Lucius spent his days locked in his study and Hermione spent hers in the library, searching for anything to distract her from reality. Briefly, she had considered wandering the corridors to see if he said anything, to see if she could make him talk to her even if it was just to reprimand her, but his warning about the terrible things she could find if she wandered off stopped her. She didn't want him to speak to her so badly that she was willing to risk her life.

Breakfast and dinner were eaten in silence and Hermione took to staring at her plate, so she wouldn't be tempted to say anything to Lucius. She wondered if he had noticed, and if he had, she wondered if he cared.

At night, she was always the first to bed and in the morning, she always awoke alone. The only reason she knew that he had even been there was the ruffled covers on his side of the bed. Even then, she feared that she had only imagined those.

The logical side of her knew that she shouldn't mind the separation, that she shouldn't mind that he was ignoring her. She did. Every day she felt more terrible because of it. Every time he left for his study after breakfast, every time he walked past her, barely acknowledging that she was there, every time that he blatantly ignored her, she felt like crying herself to sleep as she had done her first night there.

She longed for the intimidating man from the library to return. She longed for the controlling and patronizing man from the party. For the man who told her he would lie to her, to come back. Those men had at least acknowledged her, had at least appeared to respect her. That was all she really wanted from him.

----------------------------------------

Hermione entered the library, before stopping suddenly mid-step. She hadn't realized Lucius was in there, he hadn't said anything when he had left dinner. He looked up from the fire, a look of surprise briefly flittering across his face.

"I was just…I wanted to get a book to read in bed." Hermione said, feeling the need to explain her presence. It was the most she had spoken to him in days.

He nodded his head and Hermione took that as a sign of approval, hurrying over to the nearest bookshelf. She had seen a book on the lunar phases and their effects on potions a few days ago and she had wanted to read it. It looked interesting and it wasn't as though she had anything else to do.

Lucius watched as she skimmed her fingers against the books spines, obviously looking for one in particular. He could practically see her relax in front of his eyes. It was the first time that she had seemed comfortable in his presence since the day after the wedding, maybe the first time she had ever. It was as though somehow the large amount of books surrounding them counteracted his being there.

Though he had always acted as though he didn't, he had noticed her actions at the meals they shared; she had taken to staring at her plate throughout the meal, as though unable to look directly at him. He had seen her stiffen when he entered a room, his presence making her feel as though she had to defend herself.

He did not blame her. He had never been kind to her. He wasn't forthcoming in conversation. He knew that she did not like him. He knew that she did not share the same beliefs as him. No, he did not blame her for being uncomfortable in his presence. Watching her now, in front of him, seemingly relaxed, he realized that he preferred it for some reason. He realized for all of his want to be in control, to be more powerful than everyone around him, that he wanted something more than that, too.

After Narcissa had left him, he had thought that if he was ever to get married again that his new wife would be a confidant, someone he could trust to help him in the more sticky aspects of his life, someone who understood him, someone who could be what Narcissa never was. Someone he could have chosen himself. He would never have chosen Hermione.

He wasn't a believer in love or at least not in the romantic sense, but he did believe in the idea of commonality. Though he would never admit it aloud, commonality would be nice at this time of his life.

Hermione smiled largely, pulling the book from the shelf, happy to have found it. She was beginning to think she had imagined it. She glanced behind her and saw that Lucius was no longer watching her, but had turned back to the fire again. There was a red light cast across his face and while Hermione felt like it should have made him look angry or cruel even, it did not. It reminded her of when she woke up a week ago, after spending their first night together, and he had looked like a human instead of Lucius Malfoy.

By the light of the fire, he looked different from what she was used to seeing him. She could see no arrogance, no mockery or malice in his eyes. He didn't look happy or sad or any other emotion she could think of, but he didn't look like the man she saw every night at dinner either. She didn't know what the difference was, but she did know that she longed to see this man, to interact with this man for the next six years, not the one that she normally saw. In the pit of her stomach, she knew that was impossible. Lucius Malfoy would never allow her to see him as anything other than Lucius Malfoy.

Taking a deep breath, she turned around completely, preparing herself to face him. He didn't look up at her, but something about him shifted. Any openness that had been there moments ago was gone.

"I found what I was looking for," She told him. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." He said, finally looking at her. For a brief moment, he considered following her to the bedroom, being there with her while they were both awake. He wondered if it would change anything, or if it would just be uncomfortable for them both. Maybe he could make it so it was just uncomfortable for her.

Tossing back the rest of his glass of scotch, he stood up. Quickly walking over to the drink cart where the decanter of firewhiskey was waiting for him, he needed something stronger to drink tonight.

-------------------------------

"You weren't downstairs for dinner." Lucius's voice came from across the room. "Did you forget the time?"

Hermione glanced up from the book that she had been trying to read for the last hour. What little she had been able to read made almost no sense to her and the words kept merging together, making it more difficult to read.

"I didn't realize my presence at the dinner table was mandatory." Hermione said, pulling the blanket over her shoulders. Lucius stood in the doorway, his full intimidating self in all his glory.

"It isn't mandatory to show up at dinner, just polite." He said, looking her over. Something seemed off about her, but he couldn't pinpoint what it was. Her presence seemed somehow different though. She was wearing muggle clothing today. Maybe it was that.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, laying her book down beside her. "I'm not feeling very well and I told Dippy that I just wanted some crackers. I thought the house-elves would have told you."

"They didn't." He said evenly.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, standing up. "I just—" Her vision began to swim and she grabbed the arm of the chair to keep from falling over.

"Are you alright?" Lucius asked.

Hermione's head snapped up at the sound of his voice. If he had been anyone else, she would have thought that he sounded concerned. "I'm fine." Hermione said, forcing herself to let go of the chair and step forward. She was unwilling to show him any weakness. "I'll come down to dinner…I just need… " She felt the blanket slip off her shoulders, but she was unable to stop it. The room was beginning to spin again and she didn't know how to make it stop.

"I think something's wrong." Hermione said. Then everything went black. Lucius was just barely able to stop her head from hitting the floor.

"Dippy!" Lucius called, shifting Hermione's body so she he could lean her head against his chest. Her forehead was burning up and she was much paler then he had noticed from across the room. Foolish woman, if she was this ill she should have been in their bedroom resting, not in the library.

Dippy arrived seconds later, her eyes widening at the sight of Hermione in her master's arms. "Yes master?" Dippy asked.

"Prepare our rooms. Mistress Malfoy has taken ill." Lucius said.

"Of course master." Dippy said, bowing deeply. She disappeared a moment later.

Pulling Hermione closer to himself, Lucius tucked one of his arms underneath her knees and the other behind her back, carefully lifting her off the ground. He didn't want to use the levitation charm because he was afraid that she would awaken on the way to their room and only end up getting hurt. There was no need to add to the situation.

----------------------

In the hallway, Hermione began to stir in his arms and he tightened his hold on her, afraid that if she moved too much he might drop her. She moved herself closer to him, letting out a quiet moan. Looking down at her, he saw her eyelids beginning to flutter open. "So-so co-col-dd." She said through her chattering teeth.

"We will be to our rooms momentarily, it will be warmer there." He told her. She looked up at him wide-eyed, as though she hadn't realized that it was him who was carrying her.

"Thank y-you." She told him.

The door to their room was open when they reached it and he maneuvered them skillfully through it, as though he had done this many times before. Hermione briefly wondered if he had been the one to carry her upstairs when she had fallen asleep after the engagement party before she felt herself being lowered onto the bed and the quilt pulled around her.

"There are more blankets beside you if you need them." He told her softly. "I will return shortly."

"Return? Where are you going?" Hermione asked looking up at him confused.

"To retrieve Serverus." He explained, "I do not trust Medi-witches, they do not have the capacity to keep quiet about anything. Whenever someone falls ill, we call Severus. Sometimes I think that is the only reason we are still friends."

Hermione laughed quietly, surprised at his comment. "I never knew you could be this amusing." She said sleepily as she buried herself further under the covers.

"There is a lot you don't know about me." He told her.

"And whose fault is that?" she asked him.

He paused, looking down at the witch. She was most likely too feverish to realize what she had said to him. He didn't think she would have said something so forward normally. Not to him.

"I will be back soon; Dippy will stay with you while I'm away." He said, nodding towards the house-elf. He glanced down at her again, making sure that she understood him, before turning and going to the fireplace to use the floo.

Hermione cringed as she heard him call out "Severus Snape's quarters" much too loudly before he disappeared in a green flash.

------------------------

Lucius returned some time later to an empty room, Severus coming in behind him. "Hermione?" He called.

"Mistress in bathroom." Dippy said hurrying into the room. "She is being very sick."

"I'm fine." Hermione said coming to stand in the bathroom doorway. "I just threw up everything that I have ever eaten, but I'm fine."

She looked both the men standing in the doorway over before slowly moving out of the doorway and towards the bed. It looked more welcoming right now than it ever had these past nights. She was still weak on her feet and she stumbled halfway there. She felt Lucius wrap his arms catching her around the waist and she let herself be led back to the bed.

As she laid back in bed she watched the two men, both dressed in black, move about the room. If sometime in the past, someone had ever suggested that one day she would be sick in bed and Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape would be the ones taking care of her she would still be laughing now. Even now there was something about the situation that made her want to start giggling inappropriately despite how terrible she felt. She thought that perhaps that was Professor Snape's fault; there was something definitely disconcerting about having the man who had degraded her for years while teaching her potions in her bedroom. It, she realized, could also be the fever causing her to have such odd thoughts. She wasn't sure which one she preferred.

Hermione watched as Professor Snape drew his wand and began casting a diagnostic spell on her. The air around her pulsed yellow and then blue and then back to yellow before disappearing again.

"Definitely the flu." Professor Snape said. "And with a rather high fever. It was foolish of you to try to fight the effects of it." He said looking down at her, "You really shouldn't have been anywhere but in bed today Miss—Mrs. Malfoy."

"Uhh….Please don't call me that." Hermione moaned, shifting around on the bed. She felt terrible already; she didn't need him to lecture her about it. If she had realized how sick she really was, she would have told someone…not that there really was anyone to tell. She hadn't seen Lucius since breakfast that morning and Dippy, as loyal as she was, did not make for great company, so she never saw much of her.

"As you wish, Hermione." He said raising his eyebrow at Lucius. Lucius did nothing but look back at him passively.

Severus looked away from the other man and lifted several potion vials from the bag he had brought with him.

"This is a fever reducing potion." He said pointing to the first one. "It should be taken every six hours. The next one is an antihistamine and cough suppressant. It should be taken every eight. The third potion is to be taken only if you is unable to keep anything down and should only be taken once. Did you get all of that?"

Hermione looked up at him blankly, unsure of whether his question was addressed to her or Lucius. "I know you were talking but I can honestly say I have no idea what you just said." She told him, blinking up at him innocently.

Severus rolled his eyes at the woman in bed and turned to Lucius. "I do hope you were paying more attention than your wife because it seems it will be up to you and you alone to make sure that she takes the correct dosage and does not overdose herself." Severus said, smirking at his old friend. "Especially after only being married for a little over a week, that certainly wouldn't look good for you."

"I will instruct the house-elves to do just as you said." Lucius said, glaring at the other man.

"As adept as I'm sure your house-elves are at following your instructions, Lucius, these potions are sensitive and it would be best if they are handled by human hands and human hands alone." Severus told him. "I will give her her first dose now and you can give her her second dose in six hours."

Lucius glare intensified as Severus's smirk grew.

---------------------------------

Six hours later found Lucius perched as gracefully as one could on the edge of the bed next to his young wife. She had moved so that she was now in the middle of the bed, draped over his pillow. He sneered at her, reminding himself to make sure that the rooms were cleaned properly once she was no longer unwell. He had no need to get ill himself because she didn't have the courtesy to remain on her own side of the bed.

He reached over and shook her shoulder softly. "Hermione." He called, lowering his voice. As amusing as it might be to sometime startle her awake, he didn't think this was the appropriate time to do so.

"Emmm…" She murmured, pressing herself closer to his pillow.

"Hermione, wake up." He instructed her, this time more forcefully. She began to stir this time, her eyes fluttering open and looking up at him curiously.

"It is time to take your potion." He said, picking it up from the night table. When he looked back at her, she was still watching him curiously. She was looking as though she had never seen him before.

"Such a pretty man," She said sleepily, "Such a pretty, pretty man. How can someone so pretty be so cold?"

Surprised by her words Lucius leaned in closer to Hermione, trying to determine if he had heard her correctly. Before he had left, Severus had told him that the combination of the potions and high fever might have a strange effect on her behavior but this had not been what he had expected. But then again, most men rarely expected to be called 'pretty'.

"Hermione, take the potion." He said, holding the vial out to her. She was still watching him closely, as though she was trying to determine the answer to her question herself.

"Did I do something wrong?" Hermione asked. "Is that why you're ignoring me, because I did something wrong? Because I didn't mean too, I didn't."

"That is just the fever talking, Hermione." Lucius told her. "You need to take your potion again now. It will help you get some sleep and hopefully return your senses."

"If I take the potion, will you forgive me?" She asked. "Will you talk to me again?"

"Do you really wish to speak with me that badly?" He found himself asking, unable to stop himself. This certainly wasn't what he expected of her and he honestly didn't know what to make of it.

"I just want the silence to go away," She said frantically, struggling to sit up. "I hate the silence. Silence means you're alone, all alone, all by yourself…I promise to be good. I promise I will, but please don't leave me alone. I don't want to be alone. "

"Why are you so afraid of being alone?" He asked her.

"Bad things happen when you're alone, bad, terrible things." Hermione whispered, "Don't let them happen again. Please don't let them happen again!"

"Calm yourself!" Lucius told her. "Take your potion and I will not leave you alone."

"Promise?" She asked quietly. Her eyes filled with something different now. Gone was the curiosity, the searching, now they were filled with fear, real fear.

"I…promise." Lucius forced out. It was not a word he liked to use but it seemed that it would be the only way to get her to calm down and to take her potion.

Hermione quickly took the potion from his hand, sinking back down on the bed. "Just one sip." He instructed her. She nodded her head and did as he said before handing him back the vial.

"Much better." She murmured sleepily, before closing her eyes. He was happy to note that she had moved so that for the most part she was on her own side of the bed. A few moments later, she was asleep.

Lucius placed the potion vial back onto the nightstand next to the other one. He wouldn't have to give her the other potion for another two hours but he found himself unwilling to leave yet.

He knew that he was free from his obligation to stay, that there was no reason to stay with her and she would not notice his absence, but he was unable to look away from her. She looked so peaceful right then, so very different from the panicked woman she had been just moments before. He hadn't realized the effect that he had been having on her. He knew that she had been unhappy, but he had thought that unhappiness had stemmed from the marriage itself, not his absence. He thought she would appreciate time away from him much more than time spent with him. It was not as though they had much to discuss with each other.

But then, she hadn't said that it was his absence that she was feeling, it was the absence of everyone. There was something about being alone that frightened her and Lucius couldn't help but wonder what it was.

---------------------------

Hermione awoke to the sound of Lucius saying her name softly. She slowly became more aware of her surroundings and just how hot it was underneath such a large amount of bed covers. Groaning, she threw the quilts to the side, turning to see Lucius standing beside the bed. It didn't seem fair for her to be ill and have to deal with his presence as well. She could only imagine the mocking that would come soon.

"I take it you are no longer cold." He drawled. His voice held a tone of condescension and she bit back a retort, not wanting to start an argument when she knew she wouldn't be able to hold her own. She felt better, better then she had in days, but that didn't mean she felt good. Not at all.

"No, not really." Hermione said. Her voice came out scratchy. "Can I have some water?" she asked.

He moved closer to the bed, picking up a glass of water on the nightstand that she hadn't noticed before and handing it to her.

"Thank you." She said quietly, taking the glass from him. Her hands were shaky but she had managed to bring the glass to her lips without spilling anything. She was proud of herself for that.

"Your potion is on the nightstand." Lucius told her taking the glass from her and putting it back. "It has been some time since you last ate; you should eat something before you take it."

"O-okay." Hermione said.

"I have left some books for you the foot of the bed, should you find yourself interested in doing something other than lying about." Lucius said.

"Thank you." Hermione said softly. She was surprised that he had even thought of giving her something to do while she was forced to stay in bed.

"If you require any assistance with anything, call for Dippy or one of the other house-elves. That is why they are here. Now that you are awake and aware of your surroundings, I will be returning to my study. A house-elf will be up shortly with something light for you to eat."

He looked her down to make sure she understood everything he had just said before sweeping out of the room. Once she was sure he was gone, Hermione allowed herself to collapse back in bed. Now that you are awake and aware of your surroundings. Those few words had brought back flashes of fever induced conversations and actions. She distinctively remembered calling him pretty. That was going to keep her from sleeping that night. She hoped that he had the grace never to bring it up or at the very least not share it with Draco, but she doubted either would happen.

She also remembered telling him that she was lonely, though she didn't remember much after that. She could only imagine what else she had told him.

-------------------------------------

Hermione hovered in the library doorway, feeling uneasy about her decision to seek Lucius out. She could see him clearly, sitting by the fire reading. After so many days of not speaking to each other, it seemed wrong to seek him out for conversation.

She saw his gaze flicker up from his book to her and Hermione forced herself to enter the room. She hoped he hadn't realized that she had been standing there for long.

He stood as she came closer, placing his book down on the table beside him. "I see you are feeling better."

"Yes, much better." Hermione said, moving so she was standing across from him. "I actually came to thank you. Dippy told me that you have a lot to with that. That you made sure I had the right potions and checked up on me. I appreciated that. I know I'm a terrible patient, so I'm sure it wasn't exactly easy for you."

"It was fine." Lucius said, "You behaved a little out of character at times because of the fever but once I found the proper motivation for you, getting you to take your potions was no trouble at all. One would think I would have been offering something much more appealing then healing potions."

"The proper motivation?" She repeated, her face flushing.

"Yes, the proper motivation." He said smirking at her. Feeling distinctively uncomfortable, Hermione found herself wanting to squirm under her gaze.

"About my out of character behavior…" Hermione began, "I'd like to apologize if I said anything offensive. I honestly remember very little about everything that happened, everything that I said."

"You said nothing unforgivable, Hermione." Lucius said, sitting back down.

"I…That's good to know." Hermione said quickly taking the seat across from him. One might think that being the one standing would be an advantage when dealing with Lucius, but it wasn't true. He was just as intimidating sitting down as he was towering over you.

"Everything's kind of muddled between the fever and the potions. Professor Snape certainly doesn't make weak potions, that's for sure." Hermione rambled. "I can't help….I was just wondering if I said anything worth mentioning."

"Worth mentioning?" Lucius repeated. There was an air of innocence in his voice that made her stomach clench. "You make it seem as though you have something to hide."

"No, no. I just… I remember bits and pieces and I don't want you to get the wrong idea about something I said." Hermione told him, looking down at her lap. "I'd…I'd actually like to talk about one of the things I remember saying."

Now that she had said that, it suddenly this seemed like a very bad idea to come find Lucius. Like maybe she should have just let sleeping dogs lie, he certainly seemed willing enough to do the same.

"What is it you'd like to discuss?" Lucius asked, his eyes narrowing in on her.

"I…I know that we are two very different people." Hermione started. It was now or never because if she left this room now, she would never be able to force herself to have this discussion again. "And this situation is hardly ideal for either one of us, but we're married. We have to spend those six years convincing the wizarding world that there was a reason other than the Minister behind our decision to marry. And if things keep continuing like they have these past weeks I don't know if I can do that."

Hermione paused, looking at him carefully. He didn't appear angry with her or what she had said; instead he wore an expression that made her think he was actually interested in what she had to say.

"I'm not suggesting compliments or small talk," Hermione continued, "Or anything of that sort. I don't think either of us would want that. I'd just like for us to…to find a way to work through this together. I am not used to your world and as much as it pains me to say it, I'm going to need help if I'm going to be able to become a part of it. If I'm just stumbling through it, it is going to reflect badly on all of us."

It was a Slytherin tactic, convincing him that helping her would help him. He didn't know whether to be surprised or impressed. She was back to appearing strong with just a touch of apprehension she usually had when in his presence. So very different from what he had seen just days before, begging him to stay with her. It intrigued him. She was so very different from the girl he remembered from Order meetings. So very different from the girl Draco had described as a child at Hogwarts. He wanted to know why. He wanted to know what had caused such a change.

"I quite agree with you, Hermione." Lucius said. "A partnership might be just what we need."

She was a mystery to him, a unique puzzle that he would enjoy solving immensely.

A/N: I'm pretty sure that was my longest chapter ever. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed. You've all been incredibly nice and incredibly patient and I really do appreciate that. Big massive thanks to my beta Emma, you can all thank her for pretty much every grammatically correct sentence in this thing. She's absolutely great.

Just a note, I've been trying to keep you guys updated on my profile page, telling you what I'm working on and approximately when you guys should check for updates. So if you have questions look there, there might be an answer.

PLEASE REVIEW! I love to hear what you guys have to say. As always questions, suggestions and nice criticism are always welcome. You guys have great ideas, so keep them coming and you might see them in the story.