The gate swung open at the appointed time, and Hermione held her breath as her husband made his way down the causeway to greet her.

Their hug of greeting was slightly awkward, like a pair of teenagers on their first date, but that was only to be expected. However, when he cradled her face and brought his lips down to hers, it seemed as if he regained a measure of his old confidence, and Hermione relaxed in his embrace, savouring the moment, even as it twined with the memory of their only other kiss.

"Thank you for the clothes," Lucius said, his voice hoarse with lack of use. "I would not have wanted to meet my grandson in those that the Ministry supplied."

Hermione gave a rueful smile. Even with new raiment, Lucius was a far cry from the man he had been before Azkaban. Some of the changes were for the better. Others were not, and she didn't know if he would ever make the striking figure he once had.

She stretched on tip-toe to give him one last buss on the cheek and took his hand in hers, smiling as his thumb found her wedding ring and stroked the skin over it as if he still found it difficult to believe. "We haven't got long before the Portkey. Did Hector explain the terms of your release to you?"

"Blast Hector. I preferred my old lawyer," Lucius answered, pulling her into his side and resting his chin on top of her windswept curls. "Where's Draco anyway? Shouldn't he be here."

"Draco's waiting with Astoria and Scorpius at the Manor, and you knew I wouldn't be able to represent you any longer once we were married."

"Have you moved in yet?" Lucius asked.

"Give me time," Hermione sighed, as if the subject was one she considered far too well worn. "I will, now that you're home."

"Has Draco—"

"Draco isn't the problem. It just never seemed right." She gave a harried glance at her wrist and then brought out an eagle feather quill from her bag. "Here." She held it out toward him. "We have about a minute."

Lucius wrapped his hand around where she held the feather, rather than touching the other end. "Then we should use our time wisely," he said, lowering his lips to hers once more.

---

The Portkey took them directly into the Manor's entrance hall, and Hermione hung back as Draco came forward to shake his father's hand and formally introduce his five-year-old son.

"Astoria and I are going to take Scorpius to the villa for a month or so," Draco told his father. "We didn't want to crowd you while you and Hermione find your feet. We'll stay in touch, and you can let us know when you're ready for visitors."

"But Scorpius—"

"Will get to know you gradually, father," Draco insisted. "You can't expect him to accept you overnight. We'll see you soon enough." Draco gave a nod that was clearly a dismissal and herded his wife and child over to where an elf waited next to several trunks and suitcases. The elf took the child by the hand and snapped its fingers, disappearing with Scorpius and the luggage. Then, Draco and his wife both twisted into nothingness.

"Well, that was rather a disappointment," Lucius sighed, stretching out an arm to her.

Hermione came forward and took his hand again.

"What now?" Lucius asked, sounding as if the encounter had drained much of his hope for a new start.

"What do you want?" Hermione asked.

"A wand, a bath, a proper meal, and to take my wife to bed and not get up for a week."

Hermione guided Lucius's arm around her shoulders, the better to support him if she had to, and strolled towards the stairs. "Your new wand is waiting upstairs. You understand that the Ministry will be able to record all magic performed within the manor. A bath you can have. In fact, I insist you have one. I suspect we'll have to restrict your diet a little at first until your stomach gets used to proper food again, but maybe some soup and some bread for now, and the other will have to wait until the Healer has seen you. I hope you don't mind that I chose some rooms for us in the East Wing."

Lucius opened his mouth as if to argue, but then closed it again. "Of course," he agreed.

"I know tradition says we should use the master bedroom, but..."

"Narcissa," Lucius finished for her. "Hermione, I want this to be your home now. I can't change what happened here, but even I'm not crass enough to suggest we sleep in the same bed I shared with my late wife."

"Besides, Draco and Astoria have been using it."

"Oh."

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the way Lucius's face fell. "Don't be stupid. This house is more than big enough for two masters. It's not as if you're stuck in some granny flat over the garage."

"I don't know what a granny flat is and I don't want to know," Lucius averred. "Perhaps we should have gone to the villa instead of Draco," he suggested.

Hermione sighed. "You really didn't listen to Hector, did you?"

"Hector's boring."

Hermione waited until they reached their room, and led Lucius over to the window overlooking the gardens. She pointed beyond the gravelled drive, to a spot less than a quarter of the way down the lawn. "Lucius, what do you see?"

Lucius narrowed his eyes and squinted slightly, and Hermione made a mental note to arrange for an optician to call. "Some sort of ward?" he suggested.

Hermione nodded. "You could say that. That is the deadline."

Lucius's eyes widened. "Deadline?" He stared out toward the barely visible shimmer. "You mean literally?"

"Literally."

"The damned peacocks have more freedom than I do. I won't even be able to teach Scorpius to play Quidditch."

"Scorpius has Draco to teach him. He's already a decent flier."

"This was never a release, was it?" Lucius remarked. "Just a change of prison."

Hermione gave him a rueful smile and took his face in her hands before kissing him gently. "And a friendlier jailer."