It's Complicated
MALFOY MANOR
25 JUNE 2006 - Evening
Lucius slowly let the book in his hands close before resting it on his lap, the library lounge and its other inhabitants (who had slowly filed in as he read quietly) returning to his focus as the last words of the muggle romance novel faded from his retinas. Harry and Draco were sitting side-by-side on the opposite sofa, his son-in-law reclined back with a glass of whiskey in his free hand, the other resting on Draco’s back, who was leant forward moving small marbles across a board. “Ohh, I just knew you’d do that,” Narcissa accused, looking up and complaining across the board at some tactic their son had obviously employed.
He watched them from his seat by the fire, and tried to come to terms with the odd parallels that were present between his life and the novel. With the exception of a difference in hair colour, Lucius felt he embodied the character of Mr Darcy rather poignantly, and oh, how the leading lady had riled the man. But then again, it was in very much the same way that Hermione riled him . It was surprising to him how much he’d enjoyed reading the novel a second time, and how his opinions had changed since the last read through.
The most unexpected issue however, was how difficult it had been to not react when dinner was called, shortly before finding out if Jane said yes to Mr Bingley. Of course, he knew the answer but had wanted to read it then; frustration was an understatement for how he felt at having to delay. It didn’t help that it had been Narcissa who was the one to interrupt him, and practically drag him away from the library. It was research for her foolish plan that had him reading the blasted book in the first place; not that he was going to tell her that.
She’d actually nudged him twice during dinner to ask about his mood, to which he’d had to come up with some half-hearted excuse about not sleeping well. Now, as well as studying muggle courting rituals, he had to remember to appear more grumpy and tired than usual, and speak with Tibbs about the possibility of Narcissa instructing the other elves to put a sleeping draught in his nightly tea.
“Are you planning to join us, or just stare at the board from across the room?” Draco called to him, and Lucius realised he’d been staring at the board absentmindedly as he continued to sort his life into little comparative boxes with the novel.
Lucius shook his head to bring himself more fully into the room, and pushed himself out of the armchair. “Sorry; I’ve been rather preoccupied with -”
“A book. Yes, we noticed. A good one by the looks of it; you haven’t moved since we finished dinner,” Narcissa added tightly, pursing her lips and turning her face to look at him over her shoulder.
“I’m not so sure actually,” Lucius said slowly, trailing off as he set the book down on the chair and joined the others around the coffee table, taking the empty seat beside Narcissa. Things were still a little tense between them all after his weeks of blatant refusal to acknowledge or be a part of Narcissa’s plans, so he offered only a tentative smile as he looked at each face, motioning for someone to explain the game to him. “Is this something new from the Weasley shoppe, then?”
“No, it’s a muggle strategy game called Chinese Chequers,” Harry responded, a small upward quirk alighting on his lips. “And a wedding present from my cousin, Dudley.”
Lucius raised his eyebrows, before frowning. “You’re still in touch with your muggle family? From what I understand, you weren’t very fond of each other whilst you were growing up…” he asked, remembering Hermione telling him about some of Harry’s pre-Hogwarts life.
Harry cringed a little at the glossy term for his abuse, not needing to look at his husband to know he was scowling; the reacquaintance with Dudley and Aunt Petunia, since Vernon had passed away from a heart attack two years ago, was an ongoing argument. “They’re all that’s left of my mum’s family now, and with nobody left on my dad’s side, I don’t want to live in complete estrangement from them like I used to. With Vernon gone, Petunia has softened her attitude about magic, and Dudley is just grateful I saved him from the dementor ten years ago,” he explained before turning his face to Draco, and using the one argument he hadn’t used to end this niggly, background fight… “And in some ways, I don’t blame them for how they treated me; don’t forget, the whole time I was living with them, I was a horcrux.”
The room fell silent at such a pronouncement, none of them knowing what to say at this announcement about such a critical detail of the war. Draco and Narcissa were already aware of Harry's former status as an accidental horcrux, but none of them were sure if Lucius knew, or whether it was one or two delves too deep into the past than what he was ready for.
After several tense moments passed, Lucius cleared his throat, his mind circling on the horcrux that he had handled all those years ago, and given to Ginevra Weasley in Flourish & Blotts; not that he’d known what it was exactly, not at the time, but in terms of defending himself, he didn’t have a leg to stand on. “I see. That would certainly have been quite a significant factor in their treatment of you. The relationship is better now, I presume?” he asked, knowing he needed to say something, but he was itching to move away from the subject.
“Oh, much, thank you,” Harry answered with a slightly forced smile, knowing this made Draco uncomfortable. “I go to see my Aunt once a month for Sunday lunch, work permitting. She had to get a job once my Uncle died, so conflicting schedules are sometimes an issue. Ironically, she’s a librarian now, which pleased Hermione to no end, of course, because she gets unfiltered access to a muggle reference section,” he explained with a laugh, trying to bring some levity to the conversation. “Dudley is always at the Sunday lunch too, with his family. He got married almost four years ago, and has a son called Mason, who’s two.”
Lucius smiled, his heart rate increasing slightly at the mention of Hermione, knowing where this conversation would eventually lead, but managed to keep the reaction hidden. Instead, he offered something that surprised the whole room… “We should meet them soon, this cousin and Aunt of yours. If they’re amenable, of course.” He was met with stunned faces, which was his intention, to stop the horcrux chat from continuing, and after a moment, he continued. “As you say, they are the only family, or at least the only blood-relations you have left, and they are Draco’s in-laws. It was a shame they couldn’t be present at the wedding but, if you are on good terms with them now, and they treat you well, we should meet them.”
“Oh, what a splendid idea,” Narcissa enthused. “A dinner party when you and Hermione return from Zurich. I know it can’t be here because of the wards, but they can go to Grimmauld Place, can they not?”
Harry fidgeted a little; they could and had been to Grimmauld Place, because Hermione had monumentally altered the base wards to allow it, which was something she could have done to Malfoy Manor, if he’d wanted them at his wedding. The thing was, as polite and friendly as his relationship with his muggle family still was, as much as he defended the increased warming of their interactions to Draco, he could not completely forgive how they treated him, even with the horcrux available to be blamed. “Absolutely,” he said with a little too much vim. “After Lucius’ Zurich trip, so that’s like two weeks? I’ll write to them and mention it.”
“Right,” Draco interrupted, his body held stiffly, anxious to get the real conversation going, it had already been deterred too long. “Now that that’s settled, I can’t help but wonder what father was reading that had him so engrossed…?” he asked, his silvery-grey eyes, the perfect blend of both his parents, giving Lucius an inquisitive look before a cheshire cat grin joined them and he turned to pat his husband on the chest. “Do me a favour, luv; grab the book?”
Harry wrinkled his nose at the idea of having to get up, still full from dinner, and flicked his hand to summon it wandlessly. “Lost your magic, love ,” Harry snickered before looking down at the book in his hands. “Pride and Prejudice…?” he tittered, his vivid green eyes dancing with amusement as he smirked at his father-in-law. “Did Hermione put you up to this? Oh, you must have lost a bet and having to read this was the consequence.”
Draco laughed along. “It’s a good thing you read it too. Regardless of what book it is, she’ll be quizzing you on it next time she sees you,” he snickered distractedly, glad the subject was shifting toward Hermione as he moved a white marble from a triangle next to his elbow to one beside Narcissa’s blue triangle. He was eager to get this conversation out of the way.
Lucius gave them all a smug look as he leaned back against the cushions of the sofa, and accepted a drink from Tibbs. “I assure you no bet was issued to be won or lost,” he sniffed, taking a sip of whiskey from the half-full tumbler. ‘So, Tibbs knows what’s about to be spoken of too,’ he realised, knowing the elf was often concerned about his Master’s alcohol intake. “Though, it was recommended by our current, ‘resident’ literature aficionado, considering it is a favourite of hers.”
“But why would you…? Never mind! You’re as much of a bookworm as she is; like two nerdy peas in a pod,” Harry commented with a slight slur to his voice. Clearly the whiskey was getting to him; he actually giggled when the book was unceremoniously (and magically) yanked from his hand, flying across the short distance and landing in Lucius’ waiting open hand. “And that just proves my point… Hermione never lets me touch her books either.”
Draco and Narcissa watched them banter with a little confusion, neither familiar with the title of the book until now. “Harry, darling, some of us are a little in the dark. Care to enlighten us as to why Lucius’ reading of this story holds such amusement for you?” Narcissa asked, smiling sweetly at her slightly inebriated son-in-law.
Harry took a calming breath before glancing at his husband, then his mother-in-law. ‘I can do this,’ he thought to himself, attempting another calming breath, and failing spectacularly, as he burst out laughing, even harder than before. “Nope,” he stammered, shaking his head and clutching his middle. “Can’t,” he added breathlessly waving his hand in Lucius' direction, to indicate they would have to get their answers from him. “Can’t speak.”
In unison his son and wife both turned their heads to face him, leaving Lucius with no choice but to explain, and as he crossed one leg over the other, he also tilted his chin up slightly, implying he had not a care in the world. “My immature son-in-law is acting as though he’s been hit with a ‘rictusempra’ because I am a little overwhelmed by the contents of this muggle romance novel,” he drawled casually before taking another sip of whiskey.
The room was silent for only a few seconds before Draco joined his husband in endless streams of giggling, and Narcissa continued to scrutinise her husband, ignoring the guffawing on the opposite sofa. “I can think of many reasons why one would read such a thing, but I’m curious, darling, what is- your reason?”
The little inflection in her tone was a good indication that she already knew the answer all too well, whilst he knew, all too well , that Harry was still grossly under informed from dinner about certain stipulations of the upcoming divorce. Narrowing his eyes briefly for a second or two, he dared her to finish the conversation for which the boys had been invited… “Here’s the opening you’ve been looking for, darling ,” he purred over the rim of his glass, ignoring her question completely. She’d brought this on herself, and whilst he’d come to the conclusion that it was in his best interests to play along, she knew exactly why he was reading such girly tripe, and it would only be superfluous to admit again that he had feelings for Hermione. He wouldn’t do his wife’s dirty work for her. “You’re welcome.”
Narcissa rolled her eyes, mimicking his position by sitting further back on the sofa, and resting her hands in her lap, before she returned her attention to the younger generation. “Dragon, Harry… please behave like the civilised wizards you are supposed to be,” she instructed, her motherly, annoyed tone bringing them into line immediately.
“Apologies, mother,” Draco huffed, capitulating first as he straightened his shirt and sat more stiffly.
Harry took a moment longer, before mumbling, “sorry,” and trying very hard to compose himself, which was difficult as he was suddenly likening Narcissa to Minerva McGonagall in his head. That was a very difficult concept to not laugh at.
Narcissa waved their words away, truly unbothered by their joy-making; the far more interesting revelation was that Lucius was turning to muggle romance in the first place, and particularly one of Hermione’s favourites. It seemed quite obvious why he would do such a thing, an avid man of the adage ‘knowledge is power’, as he was; to woo the witch. “I quite agree with you boys, of course, that Lucius reading muggle romance is entertaining, but it segues rather neatly into the more serious conversation we were having at dinner, which requires finishing.”
Lucius watched his wife, a witch he’d known for forty years, tap her toes to alleviate the tension she felt; it was the only sign that she was nervous, as her face and tone was awash with calm as she began a no doubt, well-rehearsed explanation as to why and how she was leaving her husband. “Harry dear, there’s a few things I need to clarify about divorce in the magical world. You see, it’s not quite as straightforward as it is for muggles; pureblood marriage tends to have a contract to start with, which ours did, and those contracts have clauses and stipulations regarding the dissolution of the bonds that are attached to it.”
“I see, so what does your marriage contract stipulate must be done for a divorce?” Harry asked seriously, sitting forward in his seat as he got right to point, giving his mother-in-law and the situation his full attention.
“Well, as I’m sure you’ve noticed since your own bonding, Malfoy family magic is rather potent and very strong,” she began, winking at Harry to try and make the conversation a little more palatable; awkward, weird tension was better than nervous tension, right? “The Lord of any line that is so substantial, must have a partner, in order to balance it. This was taken into consideration by our father’s when our contract was negotiated, meaning that for Lucius and I to divorce, it is my responsibility to find another witch to marry Lucius.”
Harry sat quietly for a moment, nodding his understanding as he silently absorbed the information for a moment, then furrowed his brow as questions started forming. “Ok… That sort of makes sense. I suppose with how family magic works, those sorts of things became necessary to add into contracts when joining powerful families. What about when you’re older though, and one spouse dies before the other? How will this magic balancing affect Draco and I?”
“The Lordship is only transferred to the heir if they are of age and have a capable partner,” Lucius answered, adjusting himself in his seat as the nerves grew, knowing they were getting closer to the tough-sell part of the conversation. “As I am barely in my prime as a wizard, it would be foolish to hand over the Lordship to Draco now; doing so could be too much of a burden on the pair of you, with your bonding ceremony only weeks ago. Time and children will strengthen your bond to the family magic Harry, but until then, the right thing to do for my family is to remarry.”
“Okay,” Harry accepted reluctantly, still prone to occasional bouts of not being fully on board with pureblood customs, for which he often blamed Hermione’s influence. Speaking of Hermione, he wondered in that moment why she wasn’t present for this conversion, being as close as family to everyone in the room, but then given her crush on Lucius, perhaps it was wise she wasn’t present for the conversation about who he would be remarrying. Her influence could still be here though… “Do you at least get a choice though, or is some witch already stipulated by the contract and waiting in the wings?” he asked, rubbing at his solar plexus.
Lucius stayed quiet, letting Narcissa field this question as he watched his son-in-law carefully. The solar plexus was where the new but warm sensation of Malfoy familial magic - that tied them all together - was stirring, as it attempted to bring the younger wizard into the fold of forwarding the plan.
“Oh, no, the choice is ours to make. This contract was made over thirty years ago, after all; there was no telling who would be alive to fulfil such a role, or whether it would ever open up; that’s why the responsibility falls to me. As the departing spouse, it is my job to find a suitable replacement who Lucius agrees to marry,” Narcissa replied, side-eyeing her husband with a meaningful look.
Harry sat back, running a hand over his week-old stubble and glancing at Draco for a bit of direction on how to feel about all of this; he had little to no frame of reference for how to handle a jaunt down the path of pureblood policies; it was something of a steep learning curve in his job, and getting it ‘at home’ too was more than he knew what to do with. Plus, this was personal; it was family, and he was getting a feeling that this conversation was leading to something he wasn’t going to like.
In fact, Draco’s responding shrug confirmed it; they already had someone in mind. Over the years, he’d learned a few things from the Slytherins in his life, and one of the most important was that they didn’t get vocal about something unless they had the answers to all possible questions. The tension in Narcissa's shoulders, as well as in his husband's jaw was setting off alarm bells too… They were nervous about his reaction to whatever was coming next, and that likely meant Hermione was involved; she was well known to be the blind spot in his rationale. ‘Surely not…?’ he worried, his face dropping into a frown. “I’m not sure I want the answer to this but… sate my morbid curiosity anyway; who do you have in mind to replace you, Narcissa?”
“You do catch on quick, pet,” Draco murmured with a smirk, sitting back and stealing Harry’s whiskey. It was crunch time in terms of Harry knowing what was going on behind the closed doors of Malfoy Manor, and he needed his husband to be clear headed. Bringing one leg up to rest on his other, he necked the amber liquid in his pilfered glass and looked earnestly into the brilliant, emerald green eyes that he loved so much. “Hermione would be the witch of choice, if she agrees.”
Harry breezed right past the sardonic look he’d planned on giving at the ‘catching on quick ‘comment - the one that said ‘what do you expect?’ - and turned a more ‘Auror on a mission’ look directly at Narcissa. Raised eyebrow, hard, waiting stare… He’d learned a lot in his life about how to deal with Slytherins, and even more in the early stages of his relationships with the Malfoys, and the most significant right now was being patient. If one was patient, a snake would feel the urge to showboat, to explain their brilliant plan and be admired for it; in the process of that, they spilled every secret they had.
As he watched his husband and in-laws try not to fidget, whilst they hopefully remembered he was an Auror, ‘the Chosen One’, and the person who loved Hermione more than anyone in the world, Narcissa adjusted a crease in her dress before folding her hands in her lap demurely. It took everything in him to not fall back into his old habit of trusting no-one, especially the people who were surrounding him at the moment, but feeling Draco’s hand at his back helped to ground those feelings, and when his mother-in-law turned her head towards Lucius ever so slightly, Harry knew if he hadn’t been paying such close attention, he would have missed the confirming tip of his father-in-law’s chin towards Cissa’s silent question.
Narcissa pursed her lips and sat up straighter, preparing to defend herself as she turned her bright silver eyes on Harry; clearly, as far as he was concerned, she was being left to explain the ins and outs of this grand plan on her own. That told Harry a few things too… like it had been her idea in the first place; Slytherins had no problem with handing someone out to dry, even family.
“After several months of close observation, I have reached the conclusion, with the agreement of my family and friends, that Hermione will be a wonderful, compatible companion for Lucius, not to mention an excellent Lady Malfoy,” she explained calmly, trying to appear confident. The slight breathlessness though, even as she held perfectly still, gave away how much was riding on Harry’s acceptance of the situation.
She was hoping beyond all reason that he’d noticed what was obviously brewing between her husband and Hermione, and he wasn’t blind; of course, he’d sensed, if not outright seen, their growing affections. He didn’t react immediately though, swallowing his immediate urge to fly off the handle, and considering it all for a moment. “I need to think for a minute…” he muttered to both himself and the room, practically frozen as he mentally worked through the idea of Hermione and Lucius… together.
“Take your time,” Lucius offered quietly, feeling like the villain of this song and dance, even though he’d been dragged into it himself, practically kicking and screaming. “I know we’re giving you a lot of information, and that I may not be your first choice of someone to love Hermione, but-”
“It’s not that,” Harry interrupted quickly, wanting to disabuse everyone in the room of the notion that he would ever hold the past against any of them. ‘It is weird though… Would it make her my step-mum-in-law, as well as my bonded sister?’ he wondered, just now grasping the fact that this was basically the family negotiations for her hand, and that made him feel sick; though mostly out of fear that Hermione would find out he was ‘speaking on her behalf’ at this meeting. He held onto that little bit of thinking for now though, and instead, stood from the sofa, and walked to the drinks cart.
Draco followed him, leaning close. “Where’s your mind at, love?” he whispered, needing to understand how they were doing. He was as on board with the plan as his mother, but needed to protect all the relationships involved, including his marriage.
“How would it even work?” Harry responded, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear as he turned on the spot, gesturing in a wide circle to the rest of the room as Draco took a step back. “I mean putting everything else aside for a moment , Hermione is, for all intents and purposes, my sister; fully bonded and everything . Now that Draco and I are married, he can feel my bond with Hermione, and she can feel Draco too. So, I guess my question is… how much magical wiring gets crossed if all this happens? And what makes it work?”
Lucius rolled his eyes and uncrossed his legs, before crossing them again as Draco took the wildly gesticulating decanter of whiskey from his husband's hand, and did the pouring himself, of four glasses; they all needed it. “It works because your marriage to Draco strengthened the Potter family magic, much like you add to the Malfoy magic by being bonded to it. Magic, particularly family magic, is strengthened by bonds to the magic of other families, so yes, whilst there is an existing connection to Hermione within the familial magic already, it would be strengthened by a proper marriage bond. It may even raise her own levels of magical potency.”
“Not that she needs it,” Draco quipped, trying to bring a little levity to the conversation as he handed everyone their drinks and sat down again. Narcissa smiled at the joke, whilst Harry just grimaced a little. Lucius nodded his agreement before continuing.
“If we’re comparing, I’d wager she’s got us all beat on the power scale, Potter…” It certainly hadn’t been part of his winning arguments plan - if one could call it that - to use the finery of what Hermione would gain from a marriage to him. The boy’s weakness was still his loved ones however, and hinting at the likelihood of Hermione receiving considerable growth to her already impressive magical abilities, wasn’t a bad idea. “We all know she’s capable of taking care of herself, which is why I want to circle back to that ‘everything else aside’ comment.”
“Oh, you caught that, huh?” Harry replied without looking at Lucius. Instead, he necked his whiskey in one and slammed it down on the cart before running his hands anxiously through his hair and starting to pace. As he did, the Malfoys gave each other significant looks, until finally, he stopped in the space between Lucius and Narcissa, giving them his best ‘this is a stupid idea’ look. “I hate to be the person that does this, but since it’s obvious that none of you have really considered who we’re talking about, it clearly needs stating aloud… This is Hermione we’re talking about, and when it comes to Hermione, there are certain things one simply doesn’t do if they value their life. Things like setting her up on blind dates or guessing which book she wants.”
He took a second to breath, pacing again as he considered how exactly to phrase the rest of what he had to say. It was basically a threat on Hermione’s behalf, which was as bad as negotiating on her behalf but still… it needed to be said and there was no one else. “Look, I’m not blind, Lucius; you’re an intelligent wizard, and not bad looking either… though your son has you beat in the fitness department. My point is, in theory, you and Hermione could work; I can even see how through certain types of lens, it looks like a good idea. After all, she’s done the older wizard thing before, and it suits her, but you can’t possibly think that manipulating her into marriage will end well…”
“Harry, love” Draco interrupted, starting to worry that his husband was about to wander into the land of insults if he wasn’t pulled up.
“No! It’s manipulation, plain and simple. I mean, I’ll give you your due, you’re all certainly living up to the Slytherin trait for ambition with this, but given the new information, I can’t help but wonder if any of your friendships with her have been real. I mean, does Lucius even like books, or is it all just some big game of seduction to keep her sweet?”
Draco jumped out his seat faster than a speeding snitch, and grabbed Harry with the force of a bludger, turning him around until they were face to face. “Don’t revert to type now, Pottah,” he snarked, popping the ‘P’ like he did as a child. “You know we all love Hermione; don’t question that like you don’t. And dad’s about as mental over the written word as she is, so you don’t get to accuse him of not giving a shit. I love you, and I know this is hard to accept but we all genuinely love her; father more than most, I think.”
They both looked to Lucius then, and Narcissa followed suit, curious as to how much her husband would be willing to admit. After taking a moment and a hearty swig from his glass, probably to review his options, Lucius spoke. “I understand your concerns, Harry, and I share them. If Hermione’s affections for me could be secured without the pressure of this contract, then that is how I would wish to have my feelings for her reciprocated. Unfortunately, there is no way out of fulfilling its terms, and upon reflection, over the last two weeks, since I learned I would be getting a divorce, I have come to appreciate that I could accept no other witch and still achieve any… felicity in marriage as I would with her.”
Harry swallowed the guilt that was causing a hard lump in his throat. “Sorry,” he mumbled, knowing he’d let a bit of temper reach the surface. “I know you’re not playing games, any of you. Not really. It’s just… she’s Hermione. She’s been with me every step of the way since I was eleven and, I’m just protective, and now, slightly petrified of her finding out I knew about this.”
“So… You’re on board?” Draco asked hopefully, catching on quickly to the way his husband had phrased that last comment, and more than ready to be done with the whole conversation. “Please be on board,” he added more quietly.
Closing his eyes against the pleading nature of the look on husband’s face, Harry sighed. How the fuck could he say no? It actually made a weird sort of sense… the two of them. ‘The Ex-Death Eater and the Muggleborn Heroine; it could be one of those trashy sex books she reads. Nooo… don’t go there,’ he instructed his brain, as images started showing up. “I don’t know,” was all he said to Draco.
“Harry dear, look at me…” Narcissa said softly, waiting for him to comply. She watched him sigh and look her way, before continuing. “I like to think I’ve come to know you and Hermione quite well over the last six years, and in that time, I hope I’ve built up a certain level of good will with you, so please trust me that this is the best option for everyone involved; I wouldn’t have even brought it up had I not seen significant potential.”
Just as Harry was about to nod, and perhaps start to agree that he could see potential there too, Narcissa stood from her seat and crossed the room, pulling him into a hug. “And if you’re really in doubt, think of it like a case; look at the mounting evidence to support my statement... Lucius is reading a muggle romance novel, for Nimue’s sake; then there’s the colossal influx of books into the library lately, their library; have you tried pulling either of them from those boring chats on arithmancy or the runic foundations of warding algorithms? Then there’s the dancing at your wedding, and so many other reasons why they are so blatantly perfect for one another. Harry, think about it, please.”
Her pleading eyes as she held his hands clasped in her own pulled achingly at Harry’s heartstrings, and as she turned her gaze on Lucius and Draco for help, he had no idea how to get through whatever was left of this discussion without pissing someone off. Unfortunately, it seemed like he was the only one feeling that, and he swung his face toward his father-in-law, realising Lucius hadn’t been overly chatty about all of this, considering it was the rest of his life too. “And you’re just okay with all this?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.
‘Not at all,’ Lucius replied haughtily (in his head), barely refraining from gulping at Harry’s brilliant green eyes boring into him from across the coffee table. Never in his life had he been more grateful than now, for the training he received from years of Voldemort’s terror-filled reign in his house, easily fighting the urge to fidget in his seat under the weighted stare of his son-in-law, though he couldn’t not swallow around the nervous lump in his throat. ‘This is not what I signed up for, Narcissa,’ he grumbled to himself, pushing out of his seat and pacing the room. A surge of nervous energy was pulsing in his brain, searching for the right thing to say so that Harry Potter, saviour of the wizarding world, didn’t hex him into oblivion.
It took a minute or two, rusty as he was in the ways of bargaining for his life, but eventually, Lucius paused his pacing, and with barely a metre between him and the boy who lived, gathered enough courage to look Harry in the eyes. “No, I am not,” he stated plainly, turning to Narcissa with a softish smile and letting his guard down; speaking with emotional intelligence was his big affirmation right now, after all. “Divorce is not something I wanted or saw coming, but I am not the selfish being I once was, nor would I deny her happiness, simply because I was blindsided by the revelation of what it constituted.”
Narcissa gave a soft smile of gratitude in response as Lucius let out a deep sigh. “My lovely wife here,” he continued, a slight sarcastic inflection on the ‘lovely’, “presented me with certain home truths recently, opened my eyes to the possibility actually… The fact that my friendship with Hermione is rather unique, and has the potential to develop romantically, was the highlight of that knowledge bomb that she dropped.”
Harry snickered. “Well, I can see her point; ’knowledge bomb’ is one of Hermione’s sayings, and she only uses it when she’s dropping certain home truths herself. We left this out of the story for the press but when we were alone in the tent, that year on the run, she was the one who figured out I was a horcrux, and chose to tell me with the words, ‘knowledge bomb, Harry; you’re a horcrux.’ So, trust me, if she has any inclination of falling for you, that’s how she’ll likely say it.”
“She doesn’t pull her punches, I respect that about her,” Lucius replied with a smile, showing that he understood he knew exactly what he was getting into, and was absolutely fine with it. Especially considering the last time Hermione had used ‘knowledge bomb’ on him, it was to say she trusted him. “I won’t deny that I find her beautiful, but that’s not why I finally gave in to this- idea. Harry, son , I am in awe of her. Physical attraction aside, it is her intelligence and compassion that draws me in so completely, I- I guess I finally decided that whatever means Narcissa felt necessary to employ, they justify the ends, if I get her .”
“Touching,” Harry snarked, a grimace marring his face at the idea of Lucius being mushy over Hermione. His father-in-law being mushy over anyone was just weird. He’d never even seen the man be overly affectionate with his own wife. Although, the revelation from dinner, that she was getting all hot for Severus probably had something to do with that.
“Adorable,” Draco added, a smug little smirk on his lips as he absorbed all the back and forth. He knew Harry would be okay with Lucius and Hermione in the end, but it was fun watching him play with the big snakes. There hadn’t been much opportunity for him since the end of the war, even as an Auror, and it was kind of a turn on that his husband was holding his own, and making Lucius be all confess-y. Mother said nothing, but looked like she was barely holding onto her calm demeanour in the face of her husband’s open admiration of another witch, even with the whole thing being her idea.
‘Time for a little payback for putting me through this,’ Lucius thought unkindly, thinking of his almost ex-wife and how this whole confrontation was her fault. Without her interference, he’d have left his interest in Hermione at friendship; maybe never even realise he was scale over tail for the little minx. “Admittedly, I have little experience with such traits in witches; those in my life thus far have mostly taught me- disappointment, but Hermione…”
“Like you were all sunshine and roses?” Narcissa interrupted, scowling.
Lucius ignored her. “Since I stopped fighting myself over these feelings, I have never experienced more optimism or hope. Could more develop? I am unsure; recognising, as I do that my newfound optimism could simply be a case of wishful thinking, I have reservations. I am not willing to lose her friendship, for anything, and certainly not for some passing interest that my wife and Pansy say she has in me; nor am I willing to court the no doubt disastrous consequences that would arise in the relationship I have with my son-in-law should things go awry,” he explained knowingly to Harry, tucking his hands into his pockets and returning to his original pacing route around the room.
“Are you in love with her?” Harry asked, a little desperation in his voice, which came out louder than he planned as he side-eyed Narcissa with a slight cringe. The answer wouldn’t really help change anything, either way. If Lucius said ‘yes’? Well, that would likely be a slightly bitter pill for her to swallow, despite the upcoming divorce. If he said ‘no’, she was condemning him to another loveless marriage, despite the affection he and Hermione clearly held for each other. That would never be enough for Hermione.
In silence, as he paced from coffee table to bookcase, and back again, Lucius considered his answer carefully; there was a limit to how much he would rub Narcissa’s nose in her ‘doings’. “In all honesty, I believe I could. The foundations of it are present, the falling is- in occurrence, but no, I do not think either of us are ‘ in love’.”
“Don’t be dense, father; not now, when it’s more obvious than an erumpent mating dance,” Draco interjected snarkily, adding a derisive snort to sell the ridiculousness of anyone trying to deny how utterly head-over-heels he was for their little firecracker bookworm; especially the man himself.
Lucius mentally projected a scowl through his son’s occlumency, but otherwise ignored the urge to rebut Draco’s argument. “I’m more of a ‘sure bet’ sort of wizard these days, and I have been dragging my feet in succumbing to Narcissa’s plans until now because this gamble, if we’re being honest about the situation, has higher stakes for me than anything I’ve ever gambled on before.”
Harry scoffed, an appraising look on his face as he stared at his father-in-law, reading everything he could in the man’s facial expressions and body language; the muggle interrogation course he’d taken (thanks to a little confundus charm), combined with three years of Auror training and five years of field experience, had served him well in many an interview. Now, it found Lucius holding his breath and lacking his usual occlumency shields, hope dancing in his eyes that he wasn’t found wanting.
Breaking away from the mental assessment, Harry let out a deep sigh and ran his hands over his face, frustration building even as he chose to not look at anybody for a moment. “Well, at least you’re considering her feelings, which puts you way below Severus on the arseholery scale. For now,” he conceded, growling an exhale as he tugged on his hair in frustration, and turned back to Lucius. “Look, I’m not mad about the idea of you two together; it’s just…Do you even understand what it means to love someone like Hermione, the way she needs to be loved?”
“I am not reading about how ‘happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance’ for my own enjoyment,” Lucius drawled, standing eye to eye with his son-in-law, finally feeling confident in doing something right to further the cause of being worthy of Hermione. “Nor am I considering the whys and wherefores of drivel like ‘there are very few who have heartenough to be really in love without encouragement’ because it sets my heart a flutter. As it seems this is going ahead whether I would wish it or not, I intend to be good to her.”
Harry nodded, shrugging slightly as he rolled his eyes; Lucius quoting specifically from, not only Pride & Prejudice, but Hermione’s speech at the wedding, was hilarious, and a memory he wanted to store just right. On the off chance that all of this madness worked out and he had to make a speech at their wedding, a pensieve projector would display that little bit of gold for all to see.
Lucius watched the muscles in Harry’s jaw flex several times as he ‘chewed’ over whatever else he wanted to say. It was clearly an exercise in the act of balancing two conflicting emotions: the need to protect Hermione and the need to keep the peace with his in-laws. He didn’t envy the boy his burden, and thought it best, as ‘a responsible adult’, to try and lessen it. “I had hoped this would not need stating, but to put your mind at rest, nothing I ever do will be against Hermione’s will.”
Something relaxed a little in Harry’s shoulders, and he blinked out of wherever his mind was reeling. “She’ll have the option to say ‘no’ then?” he asked insistently, his green eyes boring into Lucius’.
“Of course,” Lucius answered firmly, too quickly, feeling a slightly unnerving twinge in the back of his mind. There were elements of truth to what he said, she would have the choice to say ‘no’, but there was a den of snakes working on charming her into saying ‘yes’.
“That’s complicated,” Narcissa argued more honestly, wanting to be as straight with her son-in-law as possible. There was too much at stake to lose the game later because of accusations that he was lied to. ‘Gryffindors! So noble,’
Harry’s head snapped sharply toward his mother-in-law, his eyes focusing with laser precision on the mouth that had just uttered his biggest fear, Hermione’s biggest fear. “Complicated?”
“There are steps to the process of our separation…” Narcissa began, but trailed off at the sight of emerald fury burning in Harry’s eyes.
“Complicated isn’t good enough,” Harry growled. “That witch has been through absolute hell since she discovered what magic was; ten times worse than what I’ve been through because she was bullied for six years over something as ridiculous as her blood, the golden blood that flows through her veins made her a target; befriending me didn’t help, but then we’d all be in a very different world without her so I will owe her every ounce of my loyalty, forever. Then, she was tortured in this very house, which I do not bring up to make any of you feel guilty, but to add to my point, that making her Lady of it with a complicated take on her choice in the matter, is well below the respect she deserves from any of us.”
No one spoke. What was there to say? It had been an unwritten rule since Harry and Draco became reacquainted, since Hermione did her studying with Severus, that the past would never be held against any of them because the way forward was reconciliation; Hermione’s words. Harry swallowed into the deafening silence, huffing and puffing from the effort of expelling his word vomit; he was already regretting it as he looked at the shock and dismay on all three other faces in the room.
Cringing a little, he sighed, knowing he had to fix things quickly. An apology wouldn’t be advised though; he was incapable of meaning it, and they’d know that. In his wedding vows, he’d promised to be honest, always, and so he would be. “Look, I meant what I said, and I’m not going to tiptoe around the past anymore like it didn’t happen,” he explained more evenly, being very careful with his words. “Lucius, I know you’re not comfortable with it but our past actions are too combined for it to never come up. If that’s where these complications lie then it’s time we stopped ignoring it.”
“I’m afraid our combined pasts are not where the complications lie,” Narcissa explained tentatively, shifting slightly in her seat and sipping on her glass of whiskey for the first time. “If only it was that simple.”
“Then please elaborate, because I’m going to need things to get uncomplicated , really, really fast,” Harry replied gruffly, trying very hard to hold his temper, and to not go for his wand. He hadn’t felt like this around any of them in a very long time, and he didn’t like it. Sighing again, he grimaced tightly, and focused on being the loving husband and son-in-law he was supposed to be. “Just… Tell me what happens next.”
Narcissa looked between Harry and Lucius, a pensive expression making her porcelain skin tighten over her delicate cheekbones. When Harry’s foot started tapping impatiently, she answered. “There are official documents to sign, like in the muggle world, but for a marriage bound by magic, they are tied to the magic of each spouse, and held at Gringotts. When I sign my name as Narcissa Black, that bond will begin to dissolve, and then we wait. The bond must be completely gone before we sign the final divorce decree, at which point, I will be required by the contract drawn up by our fathers, to declare a name - Hermione’s name - as the new bride of House Malfoy, and enter it into the contract - the binding contract - which unravels the tenth knot of our wedding cord. The earth knot.”
Harry turned to Draco, scowling. “So, she’ll have to take on all that House-wife duty crap I read about from that wedding tradition book you gave me? “
🔹
“Absolutely not,” Lucius answered firmly, speaking for the first time since Harry had really gotten into the stride of his rant. “I have no interest in continuing the old ways; Hermione would become Lady Malfoy, with all that that entails, but she will not be beholden to my whims, like wives once were. In fact, she will have all the freedom she would desire, with the exception of fidelity clauses, which factor in all magical bondings. I swear to you, Harry, on my magic, she will want for nothing, and be treated like a Queen.”
“And still he denies being in love with her,” Draco commented snarkily, causing Harry to snort, and Narcissa to smile a little at her plan working. Harry was always going to be the biggest hurdle. Well, him and Hermione herself.
With Lucius’ declaration, and Draco’s well-timed comment, Harry felt slightly mollified, although something was niggling in his brain. Looking directly at Draco, the question tumbled curiously from him. “That book on weddings said that a marriage cord only had nine knots, and ours only had seven because we didn’t need the ones about pregnancy and heirs. Why does your parents’ cord have ten?”
“Riddle was our ceremonial bonder, at my father’s request,” Lucius explained grimly. “Ten knots: the first, rooted the bond in the earth, where all magic is born, to secure it; second, opened our magical cores like a switch, and prepared our magics to be entwined; third, bound our family magics; the threads of this knot are what weave into the tapestries. Fourth, ensured fidelity, and placed a burning curse on our rings as a reminder of it; fifth…” Lucius paused and looked at Draco. “Fertility, enhanced runically. The sixth knot was a promise to always keep dark magic alive within the family we would create; seven was a promise to uphold the values to which we had been raised. Eight, was…” He paused again, looking at Narcissa.
“Eight was a knot for me alone to tie, to obey,” she said coolly, finishing the sentence which Lucius found so troublesome. “And I wish to make clear, I was never forced into obeying anything that I did not wish for as well.”
Harry nodded sympathetically, and gestured for one of them to finish the list. A list that wasn’t filling him with much hope for the hypothetical ceremony that seemed so likely to take place whenever this disaster of a bond was dissolved.
“Nine was of an intimate nature, and something I’d rather not speak of in front of our son, lest he turn greener than the Slytherin banners,” Narcissa explained, looking to Lucius with a slight blush and remembering their first time together, and how he had promised to make sure she always climaxed twice before he even started chasing his own orgasm.
Harry laughed, as Draco turned a little green anyway. He could imagine several things that might go into the wording of that knot - all of which would turn his husband a funny colour - but chose not to mention any of them. “And the tenth?” he asked curiously, wondering if it was different to the last knot of his and Draco’s cord. It wasn’t.
“The tenth knot was the seal of the bond,” Lucius resumed, bittersweet memories flooding his mind. “Tied to the celestial body, Altais, of the Draco constellation, by- our bonder, as is traditional in the Black family. It is also the first to become untied.”
“So nothing at all about love, trust, affection? I mean, considering who your bonder was, that's not surprising, but without those things, what even defined it as a marriage bond?”
Lucius sighed. “ That is where we get into the realms of intent versus meaning. Cord magic is one of the oldest forms of binding spell, and was used regularly before wands were made popular. A wedding is just the name given to a corded binding spell that knots two people together by magic. The promises that are loaded into the knots can be related to anything… a business transaction, like the unbreakable vow for example, or a wedding.”
“So love is an optional ingredient in this cord-style bonding?” Harry asked warily. “It’s just that Hermione would never marry for convenience, and whilst I’m sure she’d be tempted by the prospect of joint ownership of your library, not even that would have her giving up the possibility of love.”
“That’s just it, love,” Draco said confidently, jumping in before either of his parents could. “She’s practically halfway there already. You’ve seen how she is after spending hours in the library with Father - like she’s been hit with a full-power cheering charm - and you can’t say you haven’t noticed because we’ve talked about it.”
“Well, yeah, but we also agreed it’s just their shared book fetish, and if she was in love with him, halfway, quarterway or all the way, because if she was, she’d have told me; she’s my sister and he’s my father-in-law. There’s no way she wouldn’t tell me that,” Harry insisted.
“Maybe that’s why she hasn’t said anything,” Draco suggested, moving to stand by his husband. “All I know is, in every photograph of them together at our wedding, it is literally written all over her starry-eyed face. She fancies the pants of me da,” he finished, an awful Irish accent lilting the last teasing sentence.
“Gross,” Harry whined, pulling a face. “I really don’t want to think about Hermione fancying anyone, or her potential sex life. It’s like when someone brings up - you know - how you came into existence. Rather not.”
Draco pulled a face. “We’re not going there; especially not now.”
“Shame you both don’t take that into consideration when flaunting yours in front of her,” Lucius deadpanned, thankful for the break in animosity radiating from Harry.
“Oh, she loves it,” Draco quipped with a smirk.
“Hence why she moved out?” Lucius offered sarcastically, returning to his seat and turning back to Harry. “However, it is of little matter now; we seem to be digressing, and Narcissa is on eggshells wondering if you’re going to give your blessing to this entire scheme of hers. Do put her out of her misery so that we might retire for the night.”
“If you think my permission is all you need to kick this whole ‘scheme’ into action, then there’s more problems here than I thought,” Harry explained, letting out a humourless laugh. “My blessing , if I give it, is no more than a courtesy.”
“Don’t be silly, dear. I’m well aware she’s an independent witch, who would curse first and ask questions later were she to know we were conspiring behind her back; especially given the past. And yes, I’m well aware this could easily be considered as conspiring,” Narcissa replied openly, placing a comforting hand on Harry’s arm and sighing. “But Harry, I’m simply asking for your support in shaping the circumstances to make the prospect of marrying Lucius seem more appealing. Nothing underhanded is planned. I simply intend to nudge Hermione towards Lucius, and have others do the same. Hopefully, Mr Romance over there can figure out the rest.”
“I do so appreciate the confidence you show in me, Cissy, darling,” Lucius drawled; he was becoming bored. Could his almost ex-wife not see that Harry just needed some time to think? He sighed, shaking his head slightly at the fuss and drama everyone was making. ‘He’ll come around in the end,’ he told himself positively; they’d all made excellent arguments to continue working toward Hermione becoming the next Lady Malfoy, after all, and Draco would likely be the convincing factor anyway. There were pockets of vulnerability that only a spouse could reach into and soothe, he knew, and that was the only way Harry would truly be comfortable with the plan working.
The idea of Hermione being that person for him, and of him being that person for her, sent his mind reeling back to her trunk, and trying to analyse whether, by letting him see the very private, personal space, she was already allowing him to be that person. ‘Should I check on her?’ he wondered; it had been hours since he’d left her in the trunk, or seen B.W, and she’d missed dinner.
“What do you say, Harry? Will you support us in bringing Hermione and Lucius together?” Narcissa asked, apparently ignoring her husband's comment, as he’d done to her earlier snipes. “I promise you, I am not setting them up for heartache, and I would like happiness too, in this new world that you fought so hard for.”
“Oh, Godric, help me,” Harry sighed, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “If she finds out this was orchestrated…”
“I know, I know… There will be nothing left but cinders and ash,” Narcissa acknowledged, waving a hand to dismiss the very real concern they should all be keeping in mind as if it was nothing. “Please, Harry. This isn’t possible without your support; you know her better than any of us.”
“Ugh, fine. You did save my life in the forest eight years ago; I suppose it’s about time that debt came home to roost,” Harry conceded, the sigh he released full of resignation. He could feel the weight of expectation from everyone in the room, and had to really think about how to proceed in Hermione’s best interests. It was also in his head that Hermione had drunkenly confessed to a major crush on Lucius six weeks ago. Every face looked slightly shocked at the moment, that he had again, brought up the past; in all honesty, he was just done walking on eggshells about it. This was a major ask of him, and so, in return, he was lifting the ban on ‘no talking about the past’. “Don’t look at me like that; we all know the truth of it, so there’s no point not mentioning it. I know it’s uncomfortable but we’re family, and so is Hermione, which means it’s time to do the British things… get over it and carry on. Just… don’t get us killed with all this matchmaking.”
“Or worse-” Draco said darkly, attempting to emphasise Harry’s meaning, but the only dark-haired person in the room clapped a hand over his mouth.
“Oh no. There is no worse here. If Hermione finds out there’s scheming and I was involved, we’re all in for a long, slow, utterly horrific and excruciatingly painful death,” the Gryffindor pointed out, resigned to his fate, and the worst of it was, he felt as if he was betraying her. As far as he was concerned, for that, he’d just earned his horrible death.
Draco let out a nervous little laugh. “You certainly know how to pick the- mad- ones, father.”
Narcissa and Lucius both cuffed the back of Draco’s head. “Out of line, son,” Lucius chastised, defending his wife and future wife instinctively.
“I think you’ll find it’s pronounced ‘fierce’,” Harry added, a light-hearted note to his voice now as he offered a slightly smug smile to Narcissa, which she returned.
“Sorry, mother,” Draco offered with a pout, folding his arms across his chest. ‘Gods, I was just teasing,’ he chose to not say out loud, lest he be fierce’d by his mother too.
“You should apologise to Hermione too,” Harry smirked at his husband. “She might not be here, but she’ll have invented an equation or spell somewhere along the way that tells her when she’s been insulted.”
Draco just scoffed. That kind of equation was impossible. Right?
“You may not believe it,” Lucius began. “But considering we’ve just been discussing the ferocity of her tempter, it would probably be worth unringing that bell anyway.”
“Sorry, Granger,” Draco sputtered quickly, agreeing with his father’s analysis. Hermione was capable of several impossible things before breakfast, and it was after nine in the evening.
“Good boy. Now. let's go home; I don’t think I can handle anymore of Mummy Malfoy’s ideas tonight,” Harry sighed and pulled Draco towards the exit of the lounge. “Goodnight Lucius, Narcissa,” he called back.
“Bye,” Draco managed pointlessly, just as they reached the floo.
“Well, that went better than I expected,” Harry heard from Narcissa when he grabbed the floo powder and stepped into the grate.
“For now; but Potter made a good point, Cissy… Hermione’s wrath if your plots are discovered could see us all at the end of her wand, and begging for mercy,” Lucius answered, just as the roar of green flames cut off any more of their conversation.