SOMEONE LIKE YOU

The war is over and everyone is moving on with their lives, including Narcissa Malfoy. She's moving on... and moving out. Draco and Lucius are devastated to see her go. Both hope she'll be back, but considering her young lover and new lease on life, it seems unlikely. Lucius knows he can't ever even look at another woman... but when Draco starts bringing his new coworker - and possible friend - Hermione Granger around the Manor, the Lucius starts to think perhaps newfound bachelorhood won't be so bad. There's only one problem - he's not the only Malfoy falling for the Muggleborn witch.

Pairings and Notes:

It's 2001. Severus survived the war. Otherwise, fic is DH-compliant (not epilogue, not Cursed Child)

Mostly focuses on Draco and Lucius's experiences & points of view

M-rated for future citrus but definitely slow-burn

More of a romance/humor and hurt/comfort fic than drama/angst (not dark)

All Canon Pairings (aside from Hermione/Ron and Draco/Astoria)

Draco/Hermione (DRAMIONE)

Lucius/Hermione (LUMIONE)

Lucius/Narcissa (LUCISSA)

Narcissa/others (N/A)

NOT a triad/quartet fic

Title and lyrics at chapter openings are from Adele's SOMEONE LIKE YOU which I do not own (obviously)

CHAPTER ONE

"Sometimes it lasts in love

But sometimes it hurts instead"

-Adele

"I'm sorry, Lucius!" Narcissa eyed him over the rim of her wine goblet. She had never been much of a drinker... before. Now, while she wasn't overindulging, she was having several glasses a week, most while sitting at the best tables in the most expensive restaurants with the best looking young wizards Europe had to offer. "I have needs, and at the present, you are not fulfilling them."

"What needs?" he sneered over his own glass - whisky. Elf-made, imported. He had overindulged on it during the war, depleting his personal supply, but the Dark Lord's downfall had brought with it instant sobriety, as if by magic. He'd only recently started drinking again. Since she left.

"What needs?" She tapped one long red nail against the step of her goblet. She sighed. Neither noticed that the door to the Malfoy Manor library had opened. They were seated across from each other in high-backed leather chairs, regarding each other if mere acquaintances and not spouses of over twenty years. "What needs! Comfort. Companionship. Excitement. Engagement..." She took a long sip, never averting her sapphire blue eyes from his steel gray ones. "Sex."

"I can provide you with all of those things!" He sounded desperate. Pathetic, almost. Draco couldn't help feeling sorry for him. He considered backing from the room before being seen, but her next words halted him.

"Lucius, please. You haven't been able to provide me with at least one of those things since your return from Azkaban."

"I... it was difficult in prison!"

"You're not in prison now."

Draco's face twisted in concern and - though he'd never admit it to his father - revulsion. The man was impotent? And had been for five years? Such a realization was both shocking and pitiable. No wonder his mother was stepping out with other men. He supposed one could argue it was kind of her to have waited so long to do so.

"Why won't you give me more time?" asked Lucius, his hand holding firmly to the snake head of his walking stick. "Time to get better?"

"I've given you time. But you refuse to do anything to help yourself. You mope around this Manor all day, every day. I want to go out, Lucius. I want to travel. To see people. To have a life. To live! I spent every waking moment for over two years certain we'd all be dead any day - you, me, and Draco - and since we survived..."

"The wizarding world hates us! It shall never be as it was!"

"Nothing shall ever be as it was." She tapped her nails on the glass again. It was an old habit, a nervous tic. He had a feeling he knew why she was uncomfortable. He'd been waiting for this since the day she moved out. He looked her over, wishing more than anything that he could be the man he was, the man she needed. He wanted desperately to be able to take her to bed, to dominate and satisfy her as he once had, to remind her why she married him. But despite all he felt for her emotionally, no matter how damn good she looked or how badly he wanted to win her back, his body would not respond.

"You're beautiful, Narcissa." Perhaps flattery could prolong the inevitable. She always loved a good compliment, especially about her looks. "As beautiful today as you were the day I married you."

She smiled, but it was a sad smile, and it further splinched his heart. He wasn't putting her on and she knew it. She truly looked incredible today, though she looked incredible every day, in his opinion. Especially in these years since the war ended. She was put-together and perfect while he was rarely clean-shaven and had knots in his hair. He no longer cared about his appearance the way he once had. He no longer cared about much of anything, save for getting pissed off the whisky and wishing he knew how to win her back. He looked her up and down again, willing his body to react to the sight before him, but, as it had been since his escape from Azkaban, he felt... nothing.

She twirled a lock of blonde hair around her index finger to keep from tapping. Her hair was pulled mostly up, styled as if she'd just walked off the cover of a 1940s issue of COVEN (the wizarding world's answer to Vogue). Her lipstick was dark red, which matched her nails, her lashes were long and dark, her dress was floor-length and form-fitting, black with a high slit showing off one tanned slender leg. She'd just returned from Barcelona, where she'd clearly spent an abundance of time in the sun. Her toenails were painted too, she wore strapped stiletto heels, and there was a thin silver anklet delicately fastened around her right ankle.

"Where did that come from?" He gestured toward the anklet.

"A friend."

"A man bought that for you and you're wearing it here, in our home?"

"In your home," she said, but it was voiced delicately, without malice. "I truly am sorry, Lucius. I love you. I am certain I will always love you, but I cannot live like this. I tried. Being confined to this place was torture enough when the Dark Lord demanded it, but this self-imposed house arrest has been killing me. Perhaps, someday, when you're ready, we'll find each other again." She stood, set down her goblet, and took two steps toward his chair. Draco slinked back between the bookshelves, hoping to continue going unnoticed. He couldn't believed he'd managed thus far; as his mother, and as a Legilimens, she had a knack for knowing where he was and what he was doing, especially when he was close enough for his thoughts to drift her way. It had been a relief for more than one reason when his aunt Bellatrix started teaching him Occlumency.

Narcissa removed a roll of parchment from a satin drawstring bag hanging from her hip.

"Divorce papers?" Lucius asked despite knowing full well the answer.

"No."

His head snapped up. His eyes, now filled with cautious hope, met hers again. "No?"

"No, but I'd like an official separation. A legal separation. I tried to open my own vault at Gringotts, but as we're married..."

"They won't allow it. An archaic rule."

"I agree." She Accioed over a quill and parchment from his desk between two picture windows. They flew right by Draco, who was holding his breath. He hadn't seen his father look so dejected and defeated since the last time the family had been punished by the monster who had once been Tom Riddle, after letting Harry Potter and friends escape their drawing room. The man's robes were rumpled, his stringy hair fell across his face, his five o'clock shadow was not becoming, and this clearly wasn't his first whisky of the day, despite it being only two in the afternoon.

"I'll sign." He dipped the quill and did as she wanted, blowing on the signature to dry it before handing back the rolled parchment. "But I do not want a divorce, Narcissa. You are my life. I love you. I cannot imagine loving another woman. Or even looking at one."

"That's flattering, dear." She kissed his forehead as she tucked the parchment back into her bag. "Let's do dinner sometime soon. There's a lovely new place just outside London, opened by a couple of witches were weren't far behind us at Hogwarts. High-end cuisine. Excellent duck, lamb, lobster. You'll love it."

"Will you be bringing your beau?"

Draco winced. The disdain in his father's voice was palpable.

"If you'd like to bring a date, I shall do so as well. If not, then no, just us. And Draco." She straightened her dress, which did not need straightening, and called out without glancing over her shoulder, "Surely you can make time to have dinner with your parents sometime soon, Draco, darling."

"You knew I was here?" He stepped out of the shadows.

"I always know where you are." She turned and smiled at him, but this, too, was a sad smile. "I'm your mother."

She departed moments later, no doubt headed to the Ministry to file the official legal separation paperwork, and presumably with the intention of spending the rest of the weekend in a hotel penthouse somewhere under a wizard hardly older the Draco. According to the Prophet, her latest 'friend' was a twenty-six-year-old Greek Quidditch captain named Panagiotis Papadakis. The very thought of his mother out with these wizards disgusted Draco. He could only imagine how his poor father felt.

"She'll be back," Lucius said before downing the rest of his drink and reaching for the bottle to pour another. "It's a phase, Draco. Don't worry. I'm sure she'll be back."

But Draco was not sure.

Draco was worried.