Only Time

Lovely Reviewers:

happybunny - Lucius said he wouldn't kiss her. Yes, our dear Lucius became very deeply depressed. Poor Draco was disarmed in the hallway. If I'd been Draco, I would have hexed them too.

Lauriurix - Lucius will be okay! I always do.

andarte - Men are naughty creatures. They don't know what they want; THEY NEED TO BE TOLD WHAT THEY WANT!

Ashley - All the cool people are having seizures or have had them. I hope that you like this chapter.

Voracious Reader - Snapey is delicate. He needs hugs! The roomie is never behaving. I keep reminding myself that she will be gone this weekend for eleven days. I knew I loved Thanksgiving and getting a week off for it. The hands and seizures are a delight. It's mostly in my left hand now that I have problems.

Heidi191976 - Here is more!

Hilda Malfoy - Yes. Lucius here is quite the angel. He looks like an angel. He said he wasn't going to kiss her. Poor Hilda Malfoy. I hope that you are doing better. I hope to read more veela fiction soon! Love veelas. They are soft and cuddly.

Aaliyah Starnight - *blushing* Thank you.

Citten - Draco is a good boy deep down. I think his sixth year really brought out what a good boy he really is. I also very firmly believe that Lucius is Draco's hero. Lucius adores Draco so much.

Lyra Aphrodite Moon - Don't worry. You won't die waiting.

meankitty69 - I get to kiss Lucius first! He's soft and cuddly! And blonde, and sexy, and *licks lips* tasty!

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Am still having medical problems, but trying not to let them get me down.

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Lucius woke up and looked at the tiny form cradled in his arms. He felt a small stab as he looked at her.

She was beautiful. Always the same peaceful look on her face. Always fit perfectly in his arms. Always could take her arms and drape them around his neck. Always could fit his face in her neck.

But she never saw him. Never heard the sweet words of endearment he whispered to her. Never felt his presence next to her, his arms around her. Never smelled his cologne which was 100 galleons per bottle.

He couldn’t look into her milk chocolate eyes and see his reflection. She couldn’t see how she affected him, how she made him feel.

But she couldn't leave him. He never worried that another wizard would come to her and wake her from her slumber. He’d made Draco secret keeper for the house and himself secret keeper of the bedroom she rested within. She was safe from them. He had her all to himself.

Lucius reached over and picked up the crystal hairbrush she’d used in his time at Hogwarts. He lifted her up in his arms. Carefully, Lucius shifted so she was leaning back against him. He slowly began to brush her hair as he did everyday. Two-hundred and fifty strokes.

“You know, my dear, it’s about time you woke up. It’s been almost three months. I know the last battle against the Dark Lord was quite horrendous and difficult, but a three month nap at the end is a bit extreme. The results of Severus’ trial are to be announced today. I shall have to go and support him. I’m only sorry that you can’t be there for him. He is still quite fond of you despite the appearance that he always gave.”

Draco stood outside the door of the master bedroom listening to his father carry on the one-sided conversation. He shook his head as he peered through the crack and watched his father.

“You ought to come back to me, Love. I’ve waited these twenty-six years for you quite patiently. I’ve protected you and your family. That’s why I was in charge of muggle torture. I had to make sure that you would be safe.

"Why don’t you wake up? I waited twenty years to see you, and you were just a child. Several months older than my own child in fact.”

Draco didn’t want to hear any more. But he couldn’t make himself leave. Morbid curiosity kept him at the door eavesdropping.

“I was concerned when Draco came home after months of writing letters about a ‘Hermione Granger’ who had thick and moderately frizzy brown hair, chocolaty colored eyes, and buck teeth who was a muggleborn Gryffindor forever being the brain of the-boy-who-lived. I say I was concerned. Being that I am madly in love with a muggleborn witch. I should perhaps clarify. Your being a muggleborn wasn’t the problem. The trouble was me wondering if you, Hermione Beaumont had finally returned.

“I know my son, Hermione. Since he was born to the time he went to Hogwarts, I’ve had him with me at least twelve hours a day, even if he was just sleeping. He is my pride and joy. I couldn’t stand it if mortal pain came to him; that is why I sent him away from the final battle. I was concerned that he was obsessing over the girl I loved. I was frightened that you would fall for him instead of me, being that he is the one who is your age. He was obsessing the way I obsessed. I was frightened that you would fall in love with him and he with you. I would have been heartbroken, but if Draco was who you wanted, I would have let you go and wished you happy. I always want you to be happy. I’ve never been able to deny my son anything. Surely, you recognized that when you saw every Slytherin quidditch player with a Nimbus 2001 broom. It was nothing, the money that they cost. And it made my only child happy.”

Draco frowned. He’d been a brat. He knew it. He’d had his father wrapped around his fingers and had played him like a true Slytherin. His father would give him anything, even the woman he loved. He couldn’t touch her. It was even clearer now. It was about time he did something for his father.

“You aren’t the woman that we are used to dealing with. Normally any girl is willing to be on her back with her legs in the air within five minutes at the chance of becoming Lady Malfoy. You were stubborn and beautiful. You were powerful and intelligent. You were a challenge. Malfoy men aren’t used to being denied what we want. We are used to having the best of everything, and you are the best witch.

“When I met you that day in Flourish and Blotts, I couldn’t believe it. Couldn’t believe what I was seeing. You were really there. I wanted to grab you up in my arms and take you away. I just wanted to take you in my arms and hold you. I couldn’t do it though. You would have been frightened, and what would the death eaters have said? I would have blown any chance at keeping my place within the Dark Lord’s inner circle.

“I remember near the end of Draco’s third year when he wrote me that you’d punched him a good one. I was so happy that you weren’t afraid to stand up to him. It made me more certain than ever that you were my Hermione, the woman I loved. It also worried me. I was frightened that I would lose you. I could tell that he was crazy about you. He wouldn’t have tormented you so if he didn’t have tender feelings. He only wanted your attention. As terrible as it sounds, I’m glad that he botched it so much.”

Draco frowned. It was true that he’d met someone else whom he felt he could love as his own. But he would always have a soft spot for Hermione. He couldn’t explain why he felt the need to torment her. She was the first person to hit him. It had made him a bit mad for her. He’d wanted her beneath him in later years, in part to teach her a lesson and in part to see her squeal knowing that it was he who was making those sounds ring from her throat.

“Did I tell you about the first time I disciplined him? It was after I learned from Severus that he put the densaugeo spell on you.

“It was the first time I hit him. It broke my heart when I did it. I drank late into the night after that happened. I hated myself. I was frightened that I’d become my father, only worse. My father couldn’t look at me. But I could slap my son, the dearest person in my world. The only person I loved that belonged to me, and make no mistake he belonged to me, though he no longer does. I love you as well, though you also do not belong to me and you never have. I wish him and whomever he will love enough to marry to stay with me, though I know that he needs to be on his own for a time. After I slapped him, he said that he hated me and would never forgive me. All I could think of was taking him into my arms and making him love me.”

Draco wiped his hands across his face. He didn’t know how badly his father had felt after hitting him. When he looked back on it, his father had done the right thing. He’d been horribly out of line. He’d been in need of correction.

“I sent him all the sweets he could want; I bought him a new broom and robes made of the finest material. All I wanted was to have my child back. I drank every night to deaden the pain. He’d never rebelled against me. Though, I wonder if I wasn’t too wrapped around him. Merlin forbid, I indulged him too much. I would love to give him a half sibling, would love to have another chance, a chance to be a good father. He finally wrote to me a week later. We met, and he apologized.”

He was the best father. Draco felt himself becoming upset. He wasn’t perfect. But he looked out for Draco first and foremost. Sure, Draco had made his first trip to Knockturn Alley when he was four years old and had been held cradled against his father, and his father let no harm come to him even in such a dangerous place. He remembered clinging to his father’s neck. His mother had been furious when they returned. She’d tried to take him from his father and been at the end of a nasty hex for it. He remembered hiding under his father’s robes while his mother and father argued.

“I hated having him sign up for the ugly toad woman’s patrol squad; Dolores Umbridge was not on the side that I was. I was appalled that no practical knowledge was being taught to the students. I was amazed when I heard about the spell you applied to the parchment to protect the members of, I believe it was called, Dumbledore’s Army. I wished Draco could have been part of that instead, but the risk to both of us would have been too much. After all, the Dark Lord had returned.

“Then in the Department of Mysteries at the end of that year, I was grateful to be in charge of the other death eaters. I never should have returned there. But, that is over. I was so frightened of losing you. I didn’t know what to do. I even used an unforgivable curse to save you from the death curse. I returned you to Hogwarts. I was so relieved that you were safe.

“Your sixth year was one of the worst of my life. I was trapped in Azkaban and left with only my worst memories thanks to those Merlin-forsaken dementors. I hate them very much, though I don’t know of many people who like them.

“I really do wish that you would wake up,” Lucius said, carefully readjusting her position on his bed. “I must see to some business investments before I away to hear the verdict for Severus. Albus did have him under an unbreakable vow to kill him. I was so grateful for it. I didn’t want my son to be a killer. That was the best thing Narcissa ever did with her life, making sure our son was safe from harm.”

Lucius stood up and dressed quickly. He tucked Hermione comfortably under the sheets and pressed his forehead to hers.

“Father, it’s about time for Uncle Severus’ verdict.”

“Yes, I know Draco,” Lucius said, straightening his posture. “Are you alright? Your eyes are red?”

“Fine, father.”

Lucius nodded.

“Let’s go.”

“Before we go, Father. There is something that I want to talk to you about.”

“Of course, anything,” Lucius said, putting a hand on his son’s shoulder and squeezing.

“You need to try to wake Hermione,” Draco said, and he pulled shut the double doors of the master bedroom.

Lucius glared at his son.

“Father, do you really want her to waste away and never live? You need to give her a chance to live,” Draco said as they strode to the front doors of the manor. “You’ll never be truly happy without knowing how she feels. You’ll never know if she doesn’t wake. I want you to be happy, father. Give yourself that chance.”

Draco dis-apparated. Lucius followed his son.

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I hope that y'all enjoy this chapter. I loved writing it. Please drop a review. Gotta love Lucius! I know that the chapter is mostly a monologue.

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