Shadows Of The Past

Chapter 2: Searching





Where Lucius Malfoy finds answers he wasn’t expecting.











Lucius Malfoy had spent a little over four years inside Azkaban prison for his crimes against Muggles and Muggleborn witches and wizards during the war. He had been given a brief furlough to bury his wife and set his house to rights before his trial began. He was tried for murder, conspiracy, assault and treason, all charges were completely justified and he didn’t argue against them. He was lucky he wasn’t given the kiss but Harry Potter had testified on his behalf, confirming that he had changed sides and was helping in the end. It was the only reason he had gotten off with such a light sentence. What had bothered him for the duration of his sentence was that there had never been a rape charge filed against him. When they read his charges in the courtroom he had closed his eyes and steeled himself for the sexual assault charges to be read…but they never came.







He remembered vividly looking over at the stands and seeing her sitting there, staring at him but rather than accusation and hatred he saw only compassion. For four long years it had troubled him. Every day he wondered why…why hadn’t she filed charges against him? The guilt ate at him for what he had done. She was a virgin, an innocent and he had violated her. She had offered him comfort when no one else cared if he lived or died and he hurt her, stole her innocence from her. For him, what he had done to her was worse than any of the other crimes he was convicted of. He had never participated in the raping of the captives, he had never been able to bring himself to hurt a woman that way. Yet five minutes alone with a compassionate young witch and he was tearing into her body, rutting like a pig with no care for her at all. He was a monster.







He poked his head out of his disillusioned carriage and stared at the English countryside. He found himself on a poorly paved road in the middle of farm country, seriously questioning whether he was in the right place. He had been out barely a month and immediately he had set out to locate her. He needed to talk to her, needed to apologize and find out why. Why had she not turned him in? He settled back into his house with Draco and began easing back into a normal life. Even after a month he still felt as though the stench of prison clung to his body and would never be washed away. During that time he learned that she had ducked out of public life almost immediately and no one knew much about her or her life. She was rarely seen and never gave interviews. It took some time but soon his investigator had an address, a little house in the country, un-plotted and hidden in a wooded area between farms.









As the carriage rolled along, disillusioned from muggle eyes, Lucius wondered if it was because of him. Had he hurt her to the point that she couldn’t stand to be around people? He had read once that victims of rape could become completely antisocial, that they developed a fear of going out lest they be victimized again. He hoped that wasn’t the case. His carriage rocked to a halt in front of a narrow lane that lead into the woods and with a whispered command the horses turned and followed it into the shadows. The narrow, thickly grown lane opened up and a small, ramshackle house sat in a clearing. Lucius stepped out of the carriage and stared at the run down little house curiously. The worn, wood siding was faded and the white paint was peeling away. The roof was missing a few shingles and the chimney was a bit crooked but he could see that brightly colored flowers lined the footpath and spilled from the window boxes, an indication that the house was well loved.







He followed the footpath with trepidation, unsure if he had the right house and somewhat afraid that he did. He climbed the three steps that led up to the sprawling front porch but stopped when he struck a very powerful ward that prevented him from stepping onto the porch.





“You can’t come up here.” A small voice said. Lucius looked around for the owner of the voice and his eyes landed on a small child crawling from beneath a bench on the front porch. A little boy with thick sandy curls stood clutching a wooden train in his hand staring at Lucius curiously.







“I am trying to find Hermione Granger. Does she live here?” Lucius asked the child.







“Who are you?” The little one asked, his head tilted to the side.







“My name is Lucius Malfoy. Does Ms. Granger live here?” Lucius asked again. The little boy slid to the ground and sat cross-legged, his train sitting in his lap.







“My mummy put the wards up to keep me on the porch so I don’t go to the woods.” He said, glancing over to the thick copse of trees at the side of the house. “And so the dead deers don’t take me.” He whispered.







Lucius frowned and stared at the child. He was an odd little boy, what was he talking about? Dead deers?







“Dead deers?” A light suddenly went off in Lucius’s head. “Do you mean death eaters?”







“That’s what I said.” The little one said grinning. “I’m going to be five, Lewis. How many are you?”







“It’s Lucius and I am very old…is your mother or father home?” He asked, trying to get the child to focus.







“Luzis?” The little one queried.







“Lucius…Loo…see…us.” He enunciated. “Your parents…are they home?”







“Your name is funny.” The little boy said. “I like your snake stick, can I play with it?” He asked, eyeing the silver snake head on Lucius’s beloved cane.







“No, you may not…your parents?” Lucius was growing frustrated quickly. He simply wanted to know if he had the right house.





“I’m a wizard…see.” He placed the train on the wood planks in front of him and using his finger he called up his “baby magic” to make the train move across the porch.







“That’s very nice…could you look at me please.” Had Draco ever been so unfocused and random as a child? If he had been Lucius certainly didn’t remember. When the little boy looked up, his blue eyes twinkling, Lucius tried again. “Now…where are your parents?”







“Mummy is making dinner. I’m Elias.” He said suddenly. Lucius took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, rolling his head on his shoulders.







“Nice to meet you, Elias. Could you perhaps go get your mother?” He asked.







“She works at the bookstore during the day and Nanna Molly comes to stay with me.” Elias said. “Are you a wizard or a muddle?”







Lucius’s lips actually quirked slightly with a suppressed grin. A Muddle? Interesting turn of phrase, more polite than mudblood at any rate.







“I am a wizard, young man. Your mother?”







“Are you a poor blood? I heard Uncle George say I was a half-blood and my dad was a poor blood brick. But I don’t know my dad.” Elias frowned as though deep in thought. Lucius assumed that he meant pure-blood prick but he refrained from correcting the lad on that little slip.







“I am a pure-blood, Elias. Now please, would you fetch your mother for me?” Lucius was ready to bribe the child if necessary. To his relief the little one scrambled to his feet and darted through a screen door, letting it slam behind him. Lucius could hear the child calling for his mother inside. It took a few moments but Elias returned, dragging his bemused mother behind him.







“See, Mum, I told you, Lewis Malloy is here to see you.” Elias said, pointing at Lucius. Hermione stood frozen to the spot, her eyes as wide as saucers as she stared at him. She looked tired, her hair in a messy bun and her body dressed in a simple white tee and loose fitting denims over bare feet. She had a bright red dishtowel tossed over her shoulder and a flush to her cheeks.







“Elias, baby, please go inside and get washed up for dinner.” She said when her brain began to function once more.







“Yes, Mummy. Goodbye, Lewis.” Elias said, smiling and waving animatedly. Lucius stared at him standing beside Hermione. Mummy? Elias said he was going to be five soon. As he turned and ran into the house Lucius noted the sandy blonde curls. He looked at Hermione, saw the fear in her eyes as she stared at him.







“That child is…”







“Mine!” Hermione said tersely. Lucius knew that look, the look of a mother who would do anything to protect her child, he had seen that look in Narcissa’s eyes more than once where Draco was concerned.







“I…didn’t know….why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, trying to process the truth that had just slapped him in the face.







“That should be obvious.” She stated, crossing her arms over her chest. “What are you doing here?”







“I came to talk to you…I didn’t…I wasn’t expecting to…could I have a drink of water, please?” He asked, his pulse suddenly racing and his mouth going dry. Hermione eyed him warily for several seconds before she cursed beneath her breath and lifted the wards on the porch until he crossed over and then reset them. He arched a brow in her direction, wondering at her paranoia.







“Elias has a tendency to wander off, this ensures that he can play outside without leaving the safety of the porch.” She explained.







“I see…Draco used to do the same when he was small. We finally resorted to a charmed ID bracelet that would set off alarms in the house when he went too far.” Lucius saw her start to smile then quickly suppress it and frown in his direction.







“Elias doesn’t know anything, he is just a baby…”







“He certainly doesn’t talk like a baby. He is quite chatty though he does have a tendency to confuse things. Like the dead deers that are going to take him away if he leaves the porch.” Hermione had the grace to blush at her choice of bogey man used to make Elias behave.







“He is an incredibly bright child.” She muttered. “Come inside.” She opened the door and led him into her home. Lucius noted that the house was small, her furniture rather worn, obviously secondhand, but it was clean. “I was just finishing up dinner. Come into the kitchen and we can talk.”





.

As he followed her through the small house to the kitchen he walked slowly, staring at the photographs on the walls and littering the tables and bookshelves. Photographs of a little blond baby in a satin lined basket sleeping peacefully, a curly haired tot grinning and clapping his hands in delight, slobbering all over a snitch while sitting on Harry Potter’s lap, and a recent photo of Elias astride a small beginners broom hovering just above the ground. He stepped into the kitchen, his thoughts jumbled as he watched her clear a laundry basket and several stacks of folded laundry off of the table.







“Sorry about the mess, there isn’t a lot of time for housework when you are a single, working mother.” She said, smiling tightly as she gestured for him to sit. “Why did you come here?”





“I came to ask you why.” He said quietly as she went back to the stove and stirred a pot, the air rich with the scent of garlic and Italian spices.









“Why what?” She was trying very hard to calm her nerves. She knew that one day she would probably have to confront him about Elias, but she had always thought it would be on her terms, not all of a sudden.







“When they sent me to Azkaban…why didn’t you press charges? Why didn’t you tell them that I raped you?” He asked, his voice hoarse. She turned off the stove and turned around slowly, her face softer with a stunned expression.







“Because you didn’t.” She said, her eyes narrowing. “Did you believe that you raped me all this time?”







“Yes…I did, I forced you, I stole your innocence and now…now I can see that the damage went far deeper than I ever dreamed.” He said, looking over at yet another photo of Elias stuck to the front of her icebox. “I came to find out why and ask you to forgive me…but now I don’t know how you ever could.”







Hermione tossed her dishtowel onto the counter and walked over to the table, pulling out a chair across from him and sitting down. She took a moment to look at him, making him a bit nervous under her scrutiny. Prison had changed him, his face sported a few more lines and his hair bore faint traces of silver at his temples but there was something different about him, he was softer to a degree though he still held himself with a certain amount of arrogance that made her smile.







“You didn’t rape me, Mr. Malfoy, if you had I wouldn’t have hesitated to turn you in.” She said, stopping him before he could argue. “I could have stopped you. I could have pushed you away. I could have said no…but I didn’t, not a single time. I can’t tell you that I wanted what happened, I can’t tell you that it was a great experience for me but I can tell you that it wasn’t rape.”







“But…”







“It wasn’t rape. I don’t know what it was, I still to this day don’t really know how we ended up…doing that.” She said, shaking her head. “It wasn’t about love, lust or even like, I think over the years I have figured out that it was most likely about need. I needed to be needed and you needed to forget. It was just something that happened, but it was NOT rape.”







She saw his entire body relax, his eyes closing as he exhaled sharply in relief. She had no idea that was how he felt. That he had spent his sentence carrying the burden of guilt for a crime he had not committed.







“Elias?” He queried.







“Elias was a surprise, I certainly was not expecting you to have…well, I was more than a little shocked to discover I was pregnant.” She said, her face flaming. “I found out right after they sentenced you. I didn’t know what to do, I was in denial for a time and focused on searching for my parents, not sure what I was going to do about the baby. Then I found out that they had passed in an automobile accident before I could find them. Suddenly I was all alone in the world with no family…except for the baby. So, I decided to keep it. I received an inheritance from my parent’s estate and some money from the Ministry of Magic…not a lot, but it let me buy this little house and take some time to settle into motherhood. When Elias was one I had to go to work…I work in a bookshop in Leeds.”







“You could have written to me…or asked to see me, I would have authorized your visit.” He was vacillating between anger and guilt.







“And what was I to say? You had enough on your shoulders and didn’t need me showing up with an unplanned child to add to your misery. I am somewhat surprised you are reacting so calmly now.” She said, eying him warily.







“I am in shock. I came to seek your forgiveness and discovered I have another child…I am unable to think clearly at the moment I’m afraid.” He answered truthfully. “I don’t know what to say or what to do.”







“Five years ago you would have hexed me, threatened me or tried to buy my silence.” She watched his reactions carefully, searching for a clue, for some sign of the man he was.







“Five years ago my whole life changed.” He said softly. “More than I knew. I am torn between anger and guilt. I am angry that I have a child I knew nothing about until five minutes ago, angry that I don’t even know his full name or his birth date and that I was denied the opportunity to be a part of his life. Yet…I feel guilty that I forced myself on a young girl, got her with child and ruined her life.”







“You didn’t force me and you didn’t ruin my life.” She said softly. “Yes…my life was complicated by a child, but not ruined, I could never look at Elias and think of my life as ruined.” She smiled at the mention of her son…their son. For the love of Merlin he had another son! “Mr. Malfoy…I am sorry that I didn’t tell you but you couldn’t have been a part of his life anyhow, you were in prison.”







“I could have written to him, I could have made arrangements for his care…and yours.” He said, his heart beginning to pound in his chest as it began to really sink in what had happened. He had fathered a child on Magical England’s golden girl…a half-blood child and his wife hadn’t even been in the ground. “Ms. Granger…could I get that glass of water?”







Hermione saw the way his face paled and she rushed to the sink and got him a glass of water. He downed it quickly, his Adams apple bobbing with every swallow before he set it on the table and took several long, deep breaths.







“Are you alright?” She asked. He unfastened his cloak and shrugged out of it, then loosened the top button on his shirt. It was a shocking gesture from the man who was always so fastidiously dressed. “Mr. Malfoy?” She queried worriedly.









“Lucius, I think it would be fine for you to call me Lucius all things considered.” He said, closing his eyes for a moment as he struggled to reign himself in.







“It’s a lot to take in.” She said, unable to be angry with him. Oh, she had tried over the years to be angry, to hate him, to want him dead. To blame him. But it never lasted because she knew the truth, he hadn’t set out to hurt her or to get her pregnant. She couldn’t even be angry with him for being careless because she never imagined they would be having sex and she knew that he didn’t either. Contraception never crossed their minds. She had never felt guilty for not telling Lucius about Elias, not until then. “I guess I am shocked to find your anger stemming from not being told…I would have thought you would be angry that he was a half-blood and that I was his mother. I never imagined that you might have an interest in him.”







Lucius stared at the young woman across from him. She would be close to Draco in age, twenty-three maybe twenty-four yet she carried the wisdom of a woman a century older. She still had the fresh, dewy look of youth but her eyes…her eyes were aged and jaded. He was partly to blame for that.









“Five years ago you would have been correct. I probably would have tried to buy your silence or, gods forgive me, worse. I was not a good man. I am not a good man now, but I am a repentant one. I would have done right by you and your…our…son.” He said. Hermione pursed her lips and drummed her fingers on the tabletop between them while she pondered his words.







“His name is Elias William Granger and he was born on February twenty second. He was a rather large baby, over 9 pounds. He smiled early, crawled early, walked early…” She grinned slightly, “he talked early and hasn’t stopped since his first word which was ‘snitch’. His magic manifested at the age of one so I have been teaching him to control and use it for a long time now. He is a brilliant child and I am not just saying that because I am his mother, he is intelligent, funny, and talented but he is prone to mischief.”







She didn’t get to say more before Elias skidded into the kitchen waving his wet hands in the air.







“All clean!” He said, smiling broadly as he showed his mother his hands. “Lewis!”







“Elias, your shirt is soaked!” Hermione exclaimed as she looked over her son. “No doubt my bathroom is a mess.” She muttered, snatching a clean shirt off of the top of the laundry basket she had set aside.







“Mum, Lewis is still here!” Elias said excitedly as he raised his hands in the air so his mother could tug his wet shirt off and replace it with a clean, dry one.







“His name is Lucius but you will call him Mr. Malfoy.” Hermione said looking at Lucius apologetically. Her breath caught when she saw him reach out for Elias and pull the boy towards him, turning in his chair until Elias stood between his knees.







“I like Lewis.” Elias said, not at all concerned that a stranger was tugging him from his mother.





“It’s Lucius, Elias. Say it.” Lucius demanded as he took in every detail of the small child in front of him. His hair was a sandy golden color somewhere between his mother’s sable locks and his own platinum hair. It was a bit on the long side and curled into soft, bouncy ringlets that danced about with the child’s incessant movement. His eyes were bright blue, like Lucius’s and Draco’s, only they still held the spark of hope that the older Malfoys had lost during the war.







“Loo-she-us.” Elias said slowly, his head tilting to the side as he stared at the older man. Hermione nearly sobbed when she saw the identical way that they held their heads cocked to the side.







“Close enough.” Lucius said softly, his heart aching as he stared into his child’s eyes. A child who had no idea he was face to face with the man who helped create him.







“Are you staying for dinner?” Elias reached out and ran his fingers over a lock of smooth, silky blond hair. “Your hair is slickery, not like mine and mummy’s.”







“You mean slippery, child. You and your mother have naturally curly hair while mine is naturally straight.” Lucius explained.







“I think I want my hair to be slickery…slippery…like yours. It hurts my head when mummy brushes mine cause it tingles.” Elias said, still rubbing the lock of hair between his fingers.







“Tangles.” Lucius said.







“That’s what I said.” Elias grinned and then turned, climbing up into a chair and folding his hands on the table in front of him. “Loo-she-us is staying for dinner, Mum.”







Hermione shook her head and fought a teary smile as she watched Elias interact with his father, something she never thought to witness. She especially didn’t expect to see Lucius handling it so well. She met Lucius’s gaze and arched her brow inquiringly.







“Would you like to stay for dinner?” She asked.







“Your husband wouldn’t mind?” He asked, looking around the house, suddenly realizing that he didn’t know if his son had a stepfather who would object to his presence.







“I’m not married.” Hermione said softly. “I mentioned that I was a single mother earlier.” She said, getting up from the table and pointing her wand at the dish cupboard. Plates, cups and flatware sailed through the air, setting the table casually. Lucius looked over to Elias who was drinking his milk noisily, his eyes darting around the room above the rim of his cup. It was a new experience for Lucius, Draco had taken his meals in the nursery with his nanny until he was ten and by then he had the proper table manners needed to grace the adult table. His lips twitched a little when the child set his cup back down and smiled at him wearing a white milk mustache.







“Do you have a husband?” Elias asked. Lucius smirked when Hermione choked and sputtered behind them.









“Women have husbands, Elias, men have wives and the answer is no, I do not have a wife.” Lucius explained as Hermione came back to the table and sat a large bowl of spaghetti with meat sauce on the table along with a basket of garlic bread. She immediately walked around and began filling Elias’s plate, kissing his soft cheek when she was finished. She saw Lucius staring at the dishes and figured that he wasn’t used to serving himself so she filled his plate as well. She started to walk away and Elias spoke, his mouth full of food.







“Kiss!” He said. Hermione blushed and Lucius stiffened.







“Lucius isn’t a little boy, so he doesn’t get kisses. And don’t speak with food in your mouth, Elias. It’s rude.” She said, sliding into her chair and seeing to her own food.





“Is this the first course?” Lucius asked, pushing the pasta around on his plate with his fork. It certainly looked edible, much more so than anything he received in Azkaban.







“We don’t have multi course meals here, Lucius.” Hermione chuckled. “What I put on the table is what you get, aside from dessert.”





Lucius nodded in understanding and loaded his fork. He chewed slowly, pleased to discover that it was in deed palatable and not spoiled or flavorless. Hermione was rather stunned to see Elias, who normally slurped his spaghetti noisily, sitting upright at the table and trying desperately to mimic Lucius’s proper table manners, twirling his fork unsuccessfully in his spaghetti.







“You made this?” Lucius asked after several bites.







“Well, I opened the box of pasta and the jar of sauce and cooked them.” Hermione chuckled. “On days I work we have the simplest meals possible.”







“Do you work a lot?” He asked between bites.







“Four days a week from 8 to five.” She said. “Molly Weasley comes to sit with Elias and on occasion Harry.”







“That’s a lot of hours.” Lucius said, not understanding why it bothered him so.







“Someone has to pay the bills and put food on the table.” She said softly. She wasn’t trying to make him feel badly. After all, he hadn’t known about Elias so there was nothing he could have done, but it had that affect. He felt terrible that the sole financial responsibility for their child had fallen on her shoulders. In his head he continually thought in terms of our and their when he referenced Elias, already he was subconsciously laying claim to the child.







“Done!” Elias suddenly shouted, pushing his plate to the center of the table. Hermione and Lucius both looked up at the smiling face covered in red sauce and smiled themselves.







“Did you get any in you?” Hermione asked as she got up and went to the sink for a wet washcloth and cleaned Elias’s face.







“I did, it was good, Mum.” He said, wriggling in his seat while Hermione cleaned his hands. “Ice cream, please!” She sighed and went back to the counter, stopping at the icebox to withdraw a carton of ice cream from the freezer. She put a scoop of chocolate ice cream into a bowl and placed it in front of Elias, then sat back down to her dinner. Lucius watched it all transpire with curiosity.





“Your dinner is now cold.” He observed.







“Parental hazard, I haven’t enjoyed a hot meal since he was born.” Hermione laughed. He noticed that she didn’t look resentful when she said it, just resigned. Lucius looked over at Elias who was busy shoveling his ice cream into his mouth, oblivious of the adult conversation.







“Elias, it is only polite to wait until everyone at the table is finished eating before demanding your dessert. Perhaps, at future meals, you might sit quietly when you are finished and allow your mother to finish her meal first.” Lucius said it casually as he ate his dinner. Hermione’s eyes narrowed a bit, wondering why he thought it alright to come into her house and correct her son’s behavior. Elias looked over at his mother and at her half eaten dinner and then back to Lucius.







“Ok.” He said sullenly.







“Yes, sir would be a proper response.” Lucius said.







“Yes, sir. Sorry, Mummy.” He said, before taking his last bite and sliding from his chair. Lucius stopped him however, putting a hand in front of him.







“Sit back down, Elias, you were not excused.” He said. Elias slipped back into his chair obediently, staring at Lucius in awe.





“Can I get down now?” He asked.







“May I get down now, and yes, you may.” Elias darted from the kitchen and soon the sounds of toy trains filled the air. Lucius wiped his mouth and laid his napkin on the table beside his plate. “You are angry with me.”







“You have no right to correct my son.” Hermione said. She knew Elias needed to learn proper manners, but he was her son, it was her job to teach them, not his.







“He is my son as well, no matter that he isn’t aware of it yet. You and I need to have a very long conversation, Ms. Gran…Hermione. One outside of young Elias’s earshot.” He said.







“I agree. Harry is sitting with Elias tomorrow, I could ask him to stay late and you and I could meet.” Hermione said, her stomach knotting painfully. Would he try to take her baby from her?







“Do your friends know who fathered Elias?” He asked.







“Yes. They all know and have kept my secret, though none of them understand just how it happened.” She answered.







“Very well, send me an owl tomorrow with your work address and I will meet you at the end of your shift and escort you to dinner. We can discuss Elias and my role in his life from here on out.” He pushed his chair back and got to his feet, righting his clothing and pulling his cloak back on. “Thank you for dinner.” He said softly, bowing slightly in her direction.







“I will walk you out…the wards.” She muttered, leading him through the house.









“Are you leaving, Loo-she-us?” Elias asked from the floor. Lucius crouched down beside him and smiled.







“I am afraid I must, it is growing late and I have a long ride back to Wiltshire.” He said.







“Will you come visit soon? You can come by floo like everyone else does so you won’t have to leave early.” Elias said hopefully.







“I will most certainly come visit you again, Elias, you can count on it.” Lucius said, stroking the child’s curls briefly before he stood and walked to where Hermione waited at the door. They stepped out onto the porch and Hermione lifted the wards. He was halfway to his carriage when he heard her speak.







“I won’t let you take him from me and I won’t let you hurt him.” She said, her voice quavering. He turned and looked back at the woman trembling on the porch.







“Neither are my intention. I will see you tomorrow evening. Goodnight, Hermione.” He said before climbing into his carriage and riding off into the early evening light.