Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Kill Shot	By : Lizski Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 12742 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I don’t own the world of Harry Potter, or the characters – I just borrow them on occasion. I’m most definitely not making any money off this.

Chapter List
- 10
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Chapter Ten

Hermione had retreated to the small sitting room off her bedroom; she needed to process the whole Severus thing. He stroked her hand. He insisted on dinner. And yet he also suggested she was being manipulated by Lucius. Way to win friends, Severus. She shook her head, trying not to think about it any longer. In truth, she was more interested in seeing what had arrived from Madam Malkin’s. The box had arrived only moments ago, and she unwrapped it with anticipation. Surprisingly, Lucius had selected a classic little black dress. She inspected it carefully; it was a sleeveless fitted black velvet dress with a scooped neckline and a v-back. Hermione gave a low whistle. This was a sexy dress. Subtle, but sexy. The dress itself had no adornment, which led Hermione to wonder what Lucius had in mind regarding jewelry. As if he could read her mind, a note was delivered by owl.

Please have Maysie let me know when you are dressed and styled. I would like to select your jewelry. I look forward to seeing you.

—L.

Hermione smiled at the note but was still curious about the jewelry. What did he have in mind? And where was this mysterious jewelry?

***

Maysie had worked her magic once again, and Hermione barely recognized herself in the mirror. Her hair was in an elegant up-do, but unlike the other evening there were no stray tendrils on the sides of her face. She had asked Maysie about the change and the elf had merely responded, “Ma—Mister Malfoy is wanting nothing to detract from Miss’ face and neck.” Hermione had grumbled a bit at Lucius’ micro-management of her appearance, but Maysie remained firm. As soon as the elf had completed her ministrations, she disappeared, leaving Hermione to study her reflection in the full-length mirror in her dressing room. The witch smiled at herself. Merlin’s beard. I look fabulous! I could get used to this formal dinner routine. And Maysie’s skills with cosmetics are amazing. I can see why Narcissa kept the elf around; Maysie can turn a dragon’s wing into a silk purse. She smirked again at her reflection and picked up a matching black clutch purse containing her wand. She walked into her sitting room, expecting to await Lucius’ arrival and his enigmatic jewelry.

“Thor’s hammer,” she breathed when she walked into the room. Lucius was sitting in a brown leather chair, idly examining his fingernails. He was dressed in the wizarding equivalent of a tuxedo, complete with an ivory wingtip pleated shirt and matching ivory bow tie and a fine black wool robe. His hair was loose, and he was absolutely breathtaking. Hermione couldn’t help but stare.

Lucius looked up when he heard her gasp and his own mouth fell slightly open, lines of pleasure crinkling at the corners of his eyes. “Hermione. Gods.” His voice was a hoarse whisper. The wizard stood up and approached her, his eyes never leaving her form. Jupiter’s lightning bolts with hail! I knew she would look stunning in that dress, but gods. I want nothing more than to get her out of it.

Fully appreciating Lucius’ leer, Hermione smiled at him. “You look so good it’s criminal.”

He looked at her quizzically, and Hermione guessed it wasn’t a phrase with positive connotations in the wizarding world. “You look amazing. Absolutely amazing,” she tried again, smiling at him, willing her hands to not reach out and stroke the fine material of his cloak. Or his hair.

“Thank you, my dear.” He reached for her hand and brought it to his mouth, placing a lingering kiss on her knuckles. “You look so beautiful.” He paused, still holding her hand. “I will have to be quite selective in your jewelry. I’ll be gilding the lily as it is.” He inclined his head toward her dressing room, his grey eyes glittering with delight. “Shall we?”

“By all means,” she replied, still staring at the vision in front of her. If I didn’t know better, I would swear this man is half Veela. How can he look so impossibly good?

Hermione placed her purse on a table near the door to the hallway before Lucius guided her into the dressing room, his hand at the small of her back. He fought the urge to slide his hand further down. Patience, he urged himself.

Hermione felt a little prick of embarrassment at the slight disorder of her dressing room; if she had known Lucius would see it she would have put her running shoes under the armoire and picked up the clothes she had changed out of before she had dressed. The house-elves did her laundry (they refused to tell her the location of the laundry room), but she insisted on picking up after herself and only allowed them to wash clothes she had specifically put in her laundry hamper.

Lucius didn’t notice the shoes or the scattered clothes. He was focused on the bit of flesh where Hermione’s left ear met her neck. He had an overwhelming desire to kiss that spot, and began reciting potions ingredients in his mind in a futile attempt to distract himself temporarily. He stopped in front of the full-length mirror and looked over Hermione’s shoulder at their reflection. Her dress clung to her in all the right spots, and his hand rested lightly on her right hip—one of the many spots where the dress clung tantalizingly.

Hermione was looking at Lucius’ face in the mirror, his head behind her right shoulder, his loose blond hair accentuating the black wool of his robes, his eyes bright. She fought the urge to lean back against him, to take in his mingled scents of sage and pine, and to let his hand slide where it may. She took a breath and released it slowly, trying to control herself.

The wizard stepped to the right of her and pointed his cane at the mirror. “Patefacio,” he uttered, and the mirror swung open like a door on hinges, revealing nothing more than the wall. “Ostendo,” he continued, and the wall shimmered briefly before fading away to reveal a five-foot-tall door to a safe. Hermione watched, silent. “Libero,” the wizard uttered, and the heavy door swung open to reveal a series of padded drawers. Lucius stepped aside so Hermione could get a better view. “The family jewels,” he commented with a smirk.

Hermione blushed, briefly considering an innuendo-laden reply. “If they’re the family jewels, then they are yours, not mine.”

Lucius grinned. “When it comes to the family jewels, what’s mine is yours.” He paused. “Or so says the purchase contract for the Manor. And actually, these aren’t the hereditary jewels; those are in a vault in Gringott’s. These are just a few things I’ve collected over the years.” His voice became softer, silkier. “I like beautiful things. I’ve always kept my eyes open for something that might intrigue me. These are the results of my searches during my travels over the years.” His voice suddenly changed, becoming matter-of-fact. “I also kept them in case of a catastrophe. Obviously, that didn’t work out so well,” he added wryly.

“You can have them back,” Hermione offered, not even sure what she was giving back, but she felt guilty about taking a collection Lucius had taken a lifetime to build.

Lucius smiled but shook his head. “No. Nothing in those drawers compares with you. Besides, seeing you wear my personal treasures—your treasures, that is—will allow me to actually enjoy them rather than having them just sit in a safe for all eternity. So, please, allow me. If you would take a seat.” He gestured to the bench in front of the dressing table. “And close your eyes. I’d like to surprise you.”

Hermione raised an eyebrow but said nothing and sat down on the padded bench. She flicked a glance at Lucius and felt her breath catch in her throat when she saw the gleam of excitement in his eyes and the hint of a smile curving on his lips.

“Close your eyes,” he repeated, his silky voice washing over her, making her spine tingle. Hermione complied. Lucius slid out the second drawer from the top and perused the contents. It was all as he remembered. He removed a necklace, glancing at Hermione to make sure her eyes were still closed. Gods. She’s perfect. Another thought started to intrude, but he pushed it away.

He walked over and stood behind her, the necklace in his hands.

Hermione sat silently, knowing the wizard was behind her. C’mon already. The anticipation is killing me.

He slipped the necklace around her neck and she gasped at the unexpected coolness of the metal on her skin. Lucius fingers fumbled on the clasp and he knelt down to see better. Her skin felt smooth and warm, and he allowed his fingers to fumble a little more.

Hermione sucked in her breath as Lucius’ fingers stroked her neck as he pretended to secure the clasp. Without thinking, she squared her shoulders, and tilted her head back slightly. Lucius closed the clasp on the necklace, and she felt the tingle at the base of her spine spread as his fingers slid a few inches down her back. He leaned close to her and Hermione could feel his warm breath on her skin, “Don’t open your eyes yet; let me finish.” She nodded, the anticipation building.

Lucius returned to the safe and selected a pair of earrings. Returning to Hermione, he put one down on the bench while he knelt down again and slipped the hook through her ear. His breath was warm on her ear and her every nerve ending was tingling. He traced a few inches of her jaw with his fingers and she shivered, sucking in her breath. Unable to stop himself, he placed a light kiss on her neck, just below her ear. His hair brushed against her skin and Hermione felt heat flow through her body. She turned her head and reached for the wizard, her pulse quickening.

Smiling, Lucius put his hand against her reaching arm. “Shhh. Keep your eyes closed for just a little longer. Patience, my dear,” he whispered, his lips still close to her skin.

Hermione nodded, unable to speak. His hair was caressing her bare arm and shoulder, his scent was filling her nostrils, and every nerve ending was tingling, awaiting his next touch.

Lucius saw the flush on her skin and felt his own body react to her nearness, his blood rushing to his groin. He unintentionally fumbled with the second earring, securing it as quickly as he could. Once he was certain the clasp was closed he lowered his lips to her neck and began to trail kisses from her earlobe to her collarbone.

Hermione gave a low groan, heat pooling between her legs. She tilted her head to give Lucius better access to her neck, and he continued to kiss, lick, and nibble the sensitive skin. The witch reached back and found Lucius’ robe, pulling him closer to her. He slipped his arms around her, clasping his hands under her breasts. Hermione put her arms over his, drawing him against her. She could feel his warmth against her back, and wanted his mouth on hers, his body against hers. She gently released his arms from her body and stood up. She came around to the back of the bench and looked into Lucius’ eyes as she placed her hands on his shoulders, drawing him to her. His eyes burned with intensity, the merest hint of a question lurking in them. She smiled, moving in to kiss him, to put to rest any questions in his mind. His arms pulled her against his chest, his mouth finding hers. Their lips parted, and their tongues met in mutual exploration. Lucius groaned deep in his throat and slid one hand down to her hips, pressing her body against his and leaving her with no doubt as to his own arousal. She pressed her hips against him, wishing he could feel the slick heat between her legs.

“Gods. Lucius,” she breathed into his mouth.

“Hermione, Hermione,” he whispered her name like a prayer, his thoughts lost as he gave in to sensation.

Shit. Dinner. Severus. She froze, and looked at Lucius, who pulled back to look at her. “Lucius,” her voice was still breathy, “we’ve got to go to dinner. Severus is likely waiting for us.”

“Fuck Severus,” he murmured, his hand keeping her hips pressed against his.

“Not the first person on my list,” she sighed. “But if we don’t show up to dinner, he’ll have every Auror in England here in minutes.” She slid one hand down his back to the curve of his buttocks. “So, hold that thought.”

Lucius chuckled deep in his chest. “It won’t be far from my mind, I promise you. And you?” he asked with a leer.

The hot ache between her legs, and her damp panties would be a tangible reminder throughout dinner. “Not a small thing to forget,” she grinned. Not small at all, Lucius.

He kissed her chastely on the lips. “Very well. Let’s go to dinner. But first, look at yourself in the mirror. I’d hate for you to not even see what you’re wearing.” He turned her around and she faced the mirror, Lucius standing behind her, his body against hers. Lucius had placed a diamond necklace with a pear-shaped ruby pendant around her neck, and drop-set ruby earrings in her ears. He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her against him. “You are the most beautiful, enchanting woman in the world.” His words tickled her ear and fueled the dull, hot ache between her legs. “Now, let’s go to the drawing room before Severus has us both arrested.” He placed a kiss on her bare shoulder and stepped back, his right hand reaching for her left hand. He clasped it firmly, and they exited the dressing room, Hermione carrying her purse in her other hand; for some reason, she knew she’d feel better if her wand were handy.

***

Severus Snape stood in the drawing room contemplating the sideboard with the crystal decanters. Being around Lucius always seemed to be easier after a drink. Or three. And if this was still Lucius’ house, he would have had no problem helping himself before his host arrived. But it was Hermione’s home now, and he didn’t feel right pouring himself a drink before she appeared. He paced in front of the fireplace; he didn’t need to consult his pocket watch to know Hermione was late. Only by a couple of minutes, but the Hermione he knew valued punctuality as much as he did. Was Lucius already exerting his dubious influence on the girl?

He looked up as Hermione and Lucius entered the room. Severus was suddenly glad he hadn’t had a drink; he would have choked on it. They’re holding hands. That bastard! Lucius was dressed as he had expected—exquisitely. It was doubtful Lucius knew any other way to dress. Or owned anything that looked less than flattering on him. But Hermione. Fuck. Lucius is most definitely exerting his highly dubious influence on her. Her dress was perfect: flattering, sexy, classy. Her hair was perfect. Her jewelry was, well, most definitely not hers. And she glowed. She positively glowed. Merlin only knows what these two were up to only moments ago, but knowing Lucius, I can make an educated guess. That bastard.

Hermione was too distracted to notice Severus’ scrutiny; she was too busy scrutinizing him. If Severus and Lucius didn’t have the same tailor, their tailors must have been brothers. Severus’ dress robes were of the highest quality and fit him perfectly. Like Lucius, Severus had an ivory-colored tuxedo shirt and matching bow tie, and a robe of unrelenting black which accented his coal-dark eyes. Hermione couldn’t remember ever having seen Snape look this good.

Severus noticed Hermione’s examination of him and gave a hint of a smile. Lucius released Hermione’s hand as Severus stepped forward toward them. The dark-haired wizard reached for Hermione’s hand, bringing her knuckles to his mouth. “Hermione, you are incomparable.”

“Drinks?” Lucius’ voice came from directly behind her. “Hermione? Scotch? Severus? Hermione’s broken out the good stuff.”

Severus released her hand and shot a glare at Lucius before responding in a tightly controlled voice, “Scotch would be wonderful.”

The gods hate me, Hermione thought. They must. I spent my entire life surrounded by boys in sweaters a size too large so they had room to grow, and now, in one night, I’ve got two strikingly well-dressed wizards in my house, vying for my attention in one way or another. I think I should consider myself lucky if we get through the evening without the two of them coming to blows. Or Snape hexing Lucius to within an inch of his life. What the hell have I gotten myself into here?

She didn’t have time to think about it further, as Lucius handed a glass to her and one to Severus before he went back to the sideboard to retrieve his own. Severus immediately raised his own glass into the air. “I would like to propose a toast,” he started, and Lucius’ eyes narrowed at the dark-haired wizard as he came back to stand between them but remained silent. “To Hermione Granger, owner of one of the most prestigious wizarding residences in all of Europe.”

Lucius shot Severus a sharp glare before raising his own glass. “To Hermione, who has excellent taste. In so many things,” he smirked.

Hermione blushed, “Thank you. Uh, both of you,” she added before she raised her glass in acknowledgement and took a sip of the whiskey, the wizards following suit.

“I have a house-warming gift for you, as well,” Severus continued, fully aware of Lucius’ thin-lipped disapproval. “It’s not a traditional gift, but, I presumed it would be difficult to find a book not already in your library, and you do not strike me as someone who would be interested in candlestick holders.” His lips curled in a hint of a smile. “And I am sure there are plenty of them in the Manor, anyway.” The wizard paused, and Hermione found her interest piqued. “I have secured for you a membership in the International Potions Masters Society. This is the most prestigious Potions organization in the world, and a membership is only granted after a great deal of vetting of the proposed candidate. Your membership is as an apprentice. While you are not in a formal apprenticeship, if you consent to study with me on the weekly basis we discussed earlier, the Society will officially accept you. You will have an informal apprenticeship, but I am confident that you, Hermione, of all people will be successful in a directed independent study program.” Her former Potions professor gave a closed-lipped smile of triumph while Lucius choked on his scotch.

Hermione was temporarily speechless, a myriad of thoughts racing through her brain. Why didn’t he just say this earlier today? Why did he want to spring this in front of Lucius? Pissing match? They may not be in over-sized sweaters, but they’re still boys. With Severus looking inordinately pleased with himself and Lucius watching her closely, a simple response seemed best. “Thank you very much, Severus. Or should that be Professor again?” She smiled impishly.

“Severus will be just fine,” he responded, pressing his lips together. “I look forward to furthering your studies.” The dark-haired wizard turned to Lucius. “And Lucius, it will give us an opportunity to spend more time together, as I will be here every week. I look forward to seeing you regularly.” He gave Lucius a meaningful glance.

“Severus, my old friend, it will be a pleasure to see you so frequently.” Lucius gave a polite smile and took another swallow of his scotch, his sudden flash of anger vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. He sat down in one of the chairs by the fire when Hermione did, giving her a half-smile of amusement. He was happy to see her return the amused look, and relaxed. Subtlety when it mattered has never been Severus’ strong suit. His frequent visits won’t affect my own pursuit of Hermione. In fact, unless he’s changed dramatically in the last few years he’ll be a perfect foil. I’ll look even better in comparison to my “old friend”. Old friend, indeed. This will be fun. He sipped his scotch and listened to Severus expostulate on the attributes of the Potion Masters society. Maybe I should return to the study of potions myself. If it’s allowable in my parole. It wouldn’t hurt to keep up with Hermione’s interests, he mused.

Hermione listened to Severus talk about the Potions Society and couldn’t help but feel she was being pushed into something. Not that I haven’t considered becoming a Potions Master, but this sort of takes away the element of choice. Of course, I know this is really so Severus can keep an eye on Lucius. Which probably isn’t a bad thing. I seem to have a bit of a weakness for Lucius. She smiled into her glass.

***

Dinner passed with surprising ease; Lucius and Severus chatted about inconsequential events that had been reported in the Daily Prophet—apparently the dark-haired wizard spent as much time absorbing the news as Lucius did, while Hermione mostly remained silent. She spent the greater part of the meal observing the wizards as they sat across the table from one another behaving amicably, if not chummy. Whether this was simply due to their upbringing or they were actually trying to get along, she couldn’t tell. As much as she tried to focus on analyzing the dynamic between the two, her brain kept returning to the incident in her dressing room.

Fuck. Fuckity fuckity fuck. If Severus hadn’t been waiting for us, the gods only know what would have happened. What the hell was that all about? He felt so fucking good. “Fucking” being the operative word, Granger, she reminded herself, and immediately felt the heat rise in her face. She was glad for the low lighting in the dining room and the involved discussion the men were having about—what are they talking about? Distributors of quality electrum cauldrons? Really?

“What are your thoughts, Hermione?” Severus’ voice broke through her fog of thoughts and remembered sensations.

“Ah. I, erm, haven’t had much opportunity to use electrum cauldrons, although,” she thought frantically, trying to make it look as though she had been paying attention to her guests and not daydreaming about Lucius, “I believe Heinrich Cornelius Agrippa reportedly found them efficacious in some of his experiments. However, his work has been called into question in the past few centuries, although I believe that has more to do with his questionable methodology rather than the type of cauldron he used,” she finished hastily, noticing that both men were staring at her with identical looks of astonishment on their otherwise dissimilar faces. “I, uh, have been fascinated with medieval wizards for some time. Our History of Magic courses would have been a great deal more interesting if we’d studied something other than the Goblin Rebellions,” she added, looking at her former Potions instructor.

“Indeed,” Severus replied. “Perhaps some of your apprenticeship should focus on the works of Albertus Magnus and his contemporaries. Including Agrippa and Paracelsus.” Hermione could tell his brain was already working on forming a course of study.

“There is a complete set of Trithemius’ Steganographia—all three books—in the library. Original works, of course,” Lucius interjected with a note of pride in his voice.

It was Hermione’s turn to look astonished. “Merlin’s beard,” she whispered, and then shot a look at Severus. “Now you see why I beggared myself to buy the Manor and all its contents. The library alone is priceless.”

Lucius directed a slight sneer at Severus. “I believe almost any original works you might be looking for can be found in the library. I assume your Arabic is as good as your Latin and your Greek? As well as your Hieratic? I’ve always found that with medieval and ancient texts you lose much of the nuance when they are read in translation.”

“I am sure my Arabic and Hieratic will be more than sufficient for the task,” the dark-haired wizard replied tightly.

Lucius took a sip of his wine in triumph. “It appears dragon-hide futures are in a slight decline. I wonder if this is indicative of an overall decrease in commodities, or just a blip in the market,” the wizard speculated, diverting the course of conversation again. Hermione listened abstractedly to the two of them discussing investment strategies while she returned to considering the events of earlier that evening. What is looking Lucius looking for? A little fun? More? What am I looking for? She studied the blond wizard in profile. He was handsome. And his touch made her tingle. And he could read Arabic. And Hieratic. So can Severus, she reminded herself, and glanced at Severus. His features were relaxed and he seemed to be enjoying goading Lucius. And therein lies the problem. I have no idea what I’m looking for. Lucius feels—felt—good. He’d be fun. But it could get messy. Complicated. Damn it. She sighed softly. I’m not going to worry about this tonight. I’ll just go crazy if I keep thinking about it. She settled back in her chair and let the conversation wash over her as she enjoyed the meal. The food was excellent—subtle flavors and textures intermingled to create unique dishes—and the company was, well, entertaining.

When the meal was finished Severus dabbed at his mouth with his napkin before placing it on his plate. “It is a pleasure to see the table at the Manor is still delectable as ever, despite the change in ownership,”

“The Manor may be under new ownership, but the meal was in Lucius’ hands,” Hermione replied, glancing quickly at Lucius’ hands. Fine hands they are, too.

Severus smirked. “Then perhaps it’s a good thing I always carry a bezoar with me.”

Lucius scowled but then sneered, “I didn’t actually prepare the meal; if you are concerned about Hermione’s house-elves poisoning you, then clearly your reputation precedes you.”

Hermione smirked at both of them. “I think you’re safe; I asked Dobby to make sure the other elves understood no one was to be poisoned on my watch. I gather a few of the elves were a bit disappointed at this decree, but rules are rules,” she stated with mock severity. “But I agree with Severus—dinner was wonderful. Thank you for handling it. And the elves.” She gave Lucius a teasing smile.

“I’m glad you both enjoyed it. And I’m glad I haven’t completely lost my touch,” Lucius replied graciously. “Shall we retire to the library for brandy? Or,” he looked at the dark-haired wizard, “sherry?” he continued with the merest hint of distaste.

Hermione took a breath. I am such a coward. But at least I can admit it. “If you gentlemen don’t mind, I think I’m going to pass on the brandy—and sherry—this evening. Dinner was fantastic,” she repeated, “but I imagine the two of you have plenty of catching up to do. And I’m sure I’d just get in the way.” She flicked her glance between the two wizards. Lucius shot her a plaintive look, while Severus gave the slightest hint of a nod. “Enjoy the rest of the evening, and I’m sure the elves will provide you with anything you need.” She smirked again. “As long as you say please.”

The witch stood up and the two wizards did the same. “Have a good time, and play nice,” she smiled. “Good night.” And then she left the dining room, leaving the two wizards speechless as they watched her leave through the heavy oak doors.

Lucius smiled and found his voice first. “So—the library?” Severus nodded, and the two men headed for the library.

~~~

A/N:

Patefacio– to open

Ostendo– to reveal

Libero– to set free, although I’m using it more in an “unlock” sort of way; my fic, ergo my butchering of Latin…. If the Latin Police want to come arrest me, be my guest—I’ve always wondered if the Swiss Guards ever leave the Vatican….

And the International Potion Masters Society’s acronym is IPMS, if you didn’t notice. That was totally on purpose. It started off as the International Society of Potions Masters, but I really liked the IPMS acronym, so there you go.

Trimethius is a well-known Renaissance alchemist, and his Antipalus Maleficiorum is considered one of the best works of the period on magic. The books Hermione, Lucius and Severus are talking about, the Steganographia is considered to be his most ‘notorious’ work and deals with magic and cryptography. Arcane stuff, and quite fascinating. And not surprising the Malfoy library would have copies of his works. If you are interested in magic, grimoires, and other ‘esoterica’ check out this site: http://www.esotericarchives.com/ A lot of the texts they reference are in Latin, but with a good translator, you can get the gist of some stuff. It’s really amazing stuff.

Finally, I had great intentions of posting this sooner, but my husband had to be unexpectedly hospitalized for a week, and that sort of threw me off-kilter a bit. He's home now, and doing fine, but I'm a little behind in everything I had 'intended' to get done. :-)

As always, please read and review, as reviews are the ambrosia of the Muses. *grin*
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The Kill Shot