A little over an hour later, she descended the stairs to find quite the party waiting for her in the Entrance Hall. As well as Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, she found Mr and Mrs Weasley, Fred and George, Lupin, Tonks, Sirius, Bill, Fleur and Snape. They all watched her as she walked down, dressed in a pair of wide legged trousers of pale taupe linen. She had paired these with black pumps and a black vest top made entirely of layered chiffon, through which her underwear was clearly visible. Her hair hung loose save for a portion on the right side of her head which was twisted into a loose French plait to keep it out of her eyes. A heavy onyx pendant with diamond accents hung around her neck and a Celtic inspired silver cuff, with a bead of onyx at either end, encircled her right wrist.
Harry had duly noted that Lucius was not present, and they had all decided it best that his very presence was not revealed to the likes of Sirius and the Weasleys until she decided. He didn't think Sirius would be best pleased at the arrangement, despite the fact that she was happy. Their Godfather hadn't been in a room with him since she had been found back in June. Considering how he had reacted during the week, Sirius shouldn't be going within a metre of the man. That would, however, be for Kathryn to decide.
"As you can see I am quite recovered!" she told them with a laugh as she hugged Harry and Sirius.
"You certainly look a lot better dear." Mrs Weasley smiled, giving her a crushing hug.
"Well, these things happen." She shrugged. "I'm glad you all decided to come though, it's nice to have the company."
"Well, we don't mind coming over," Ginny shook her head, "it's nice to get away from London. At home we have people camped outside the house so we've been staying at Grimmauld Place. I miss the outdoors."
"It's ridiculous that you can't even live normally because of this. I'm so sorry." She shook her head in disbelief, the strain showing in her eyes for just a moment. "But we're eating in the gardens so I hope that is a suitable compromise, it is too nice a day to stay inside."
"Last I heard there was still some summer left to enjoy." Fred commented.
"Really?" Kathryn replied in mock astonishment.
"We've heard rumours!" George chortled.
"Well, I suppose it's some kind of irony that the first summer I am truly free is one where I am a virtual prisoner. Not to say that you haven't been affected of course."
"Well, hopefully once everything settles down we'll be able to get back to something that resembles normal life." Harry shrugged. "Failing that I'm sure we'll be able to sort out some way of keeping people away."
"Well, maybe next summer will be better."
"Maybe."
"Maybe not." Her tone was ominous, reminding her brother that her future was in no way certain. "Anyway, let's head outside." She motioned towards the nearest door. As they all began to move, a different voice sounded in her ear.
"I take it he is upstairs." It was Snape, speaking so quietly that only she could hear. She only nodded in reply. Without a word to anyone else, he walked past her up the sweeping staircase and out of sight.
She showed them through the house and out onto the lawns. A smart set of wooden tables and chairs, with crisp cream linens and cushions, were standing ready near the spectacularly flowering borders. The view of the house was magnificent and, just for a fleeting moment; she saw a blond head in the window of his rooms.
"I'll be back in a moment." She told them vaguely, walking back across the lawn without any particular purpose and disappearing into the house.
She found Lucius and Snape looking out of the windows onto the party that was on the lawn.
"So are you going to come down?" she asked, raising a questioning eyebrow.
"Eventually." He shrugged nonchalantly. "I'm not entirely sure that my presence will be welcome." Sensing that this was not his conversation, Snape swiftly excused himself.
"To be honest," she replied, opening the doors onto the balcony, "you probably won't be welcome." She stepped out into the sunshine and looked out over the gardens. "I'd go out on a limb and say that most of the people sitting at that table would gladly see you locked away for the remainder of your life."
"So not the best people to share a meal with."
"But, those people also want to see me happy, and they shall just have to accept you whether they like it or not."
"Really?" he stood close behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"Yes." She turned her head and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "Just like everyone else will."
"Forgive me if I call that wishful thinking." She raised her eyebrows incredulously, turning around and levering herself onto the edge of the balustrade so she could look him in the eye.
"It's called hope." She looked out on the gardens again. "It's why I'm still here. It's why I can, even after those dark days I spent here, forgive you." Any reply he had been planning was forgotten thanks to her words. Though she had said it somewhat offhand in the courtroom the other day, she had never openly spoken of such a thing with him. For one, he could not believe that she could so readily forgive all the terrible things he did.
"I think it's a little early to be talking about forgiveness, don't you?"
"Why?"
"You cannot possibly be able to forgive me so readily."
"Surely that is for me to decide."
"I just don't understand how you can abide to be so near to me, after all that I did." His expression was tortured, this thought apparently having plagued him for some time.
"I am here because I see the man that you are, not the monster people believe you to be."
"That doesn't change what I did."
"But I know that you regret it and that's all I need to know." She explained, taking his hands in hers and looking him resolutely in the eye. "We know what happened,-"
"Along with the entire readership of the Daily Prophet." He reminded her in a bitter tone.
"But only we truly know what went on," she stressed, "everyone else has the watered down version that Skeeter gave them."
"If anything her comments have made it seem worse."
"It was worse," her voice cracked and her eyes dropped for a moment, "you must have noticed that I left some parts out, from those first days." He nodded solemnly. "It's not that I wanted to lie, it's just that I couldn't face the memories." Without reply, he held her close to his chest as tears escaped her eyes.
"People keep on telling me that I should hate you, that I shouldn't be able to stand the sight of you, but I cannot bring myself to do it. I cannot make myself hate you."
"I would not question you if you did."
"But I don't," she smiled again, wiping the tears off her cheeks, "that is why I hope. Hope is what gives us strength, what keeps us going; what gives me the courage to go on fighting a battle I am likely to lose."
They stayed like that for several more minutes, each taking pleasure in the mere presence of the other. There was no need for words and they did not care that their guests in the garden might catch a glimpse. The only sound was the rustle of the wind through the trees and the bird song caught on the breeze.
"Look." Down in the gardens, Hermione whispered in Harry's ear and inclined her head towards the house. Both Harry and Ron looked up at the two figures on the balcony. "If all else could be forgotten, all people would see would be romance."
"Yeah." Harry sighed. "I suppose that's what we'll have to get used to, you know, that it does exist despite everything." He inclined his head at them.
"Think of the magazines and newspapers a picture like that would sell." Hermione theorised. "I mean, it's the story everyone wants to know."
"It's being told now." Ron reminded her.
"I know, but it is being told in a cold way, analytical even." Hermione explained. "Her feelings have barely been broached, and there is much more here than she shows."
Up on the balcony, the sound of conversation drifted to their ears from the gardens below.
"Come on." She said, finally breaking the silence. "I think we've got guests waiting." Taking her delicate hand in his, they meandered through the grand house; both of them immeasurably glad that they no longer had to hide. Many of the portraits looked down in scorn or turned their backs on them but Kathryn did spot, however, the face of Abraxas Malfoy cracking the tiniest of smiles.