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What If.....?	By : valkyrie136 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 4465 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I Do not own the rights to Pillow Book or to Harry Potter or anything in that universe nor do I not make any profits from it. J.K. Rowling does. Please support the author by reading her books.

Chapter List
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I want to help.
Unexpectedly, Lucius blocked her in, stating that he wanted to help her.
As if he had taken the wrong medicine, he announced that he was able to get her name on the tournament list of contestants, but he would train her himself By the time she woke up from her elation, she found herself contemplating the current situation. Did he really keep her here to help her win the approaching tournament? Was he that nice?
Or did he take the wrong meds? But even with the wrong meds, he couldn't have been that nice.
Skeptical, but not willing to miss any opportunity that might help her, she spent the morning watching him map out their training plan for the next ten days. He seemed to have said the first three days were to be spent on learning how to walk. He was indeed playing with her. From what she had learned the hard way in recent days, she knew she mustn't defy him even when he teased her. She needed to find out every detail of his scheme, then find a chance to sneak out of here. That would be the better strategy.
In the late morning, Hermione sauntered to the rear courtyard to meet Lucius. Her eyes widened the second her feet passed the arching doorway. The vast courtyard had turned into a floating arena of snow posts. Each post was as tall as two persons, arranged into columns and rows exactly like the dueling grounds by the mountainside which Prince Fura had shown to her. Beyond that spot, everywhere else within the normally snowy courtyard was covered in new sprouts, the entire landscape a spring scene.
Morning light glistened on the clear force field. Lucius was idly lounging on a long bench. What an effort he had put in only to sunbathe in the midst of snow. When her puzzled eyes once more glanced to the ice arena, her body suddenly levitated. When she regained her cognition, a draft was sweeping snow dust by her face. She found herself standing alone on a snow post.
Lucius had left his bench. Standing tall and elegant outside the arena, he raised his head to her awhile, then unhurriedly spoke: “First, we'll use one day to practice standing. If tomorrow you can walk up there blind-folded as you do on the ground, we'll start dueling on the third day.” He went on to study her a while more. “You've stood quite long even though your magic had been taken away. Not bad.”
She fought to keep her balance and didn't dare to move. Her voice was filled with suppressed anxiety: “I, I didn't tell you that without my magic, I'm really afraid of height. Ahhh... help me, Lucius!’
In her fear, she accidentally used his first name as she fell. But her fall wasn't as painful as she had imagined. She blinked and perceived him in her view, catching her. “Hey, you didn't leave me up there intentionally thinking I would fall off and then take the opportunity to reap a gain?”
Lucius’s hand was still wrapped around her waist. Surprised, he asked, “Are you sleep-talking?” Distracted by his hands on her body, she forgot her faux pas, and he did not mention it.
“Then why are you holding me like this? Look, your hand is still on my waist.”
He looked to his hand, then gave her a once-over and said, “So you've got your footing then?” Without waiting for her reply, he withdrew his hands. She was leaning against him for support. When he removed his hands, she fell to the ground. Fortunately, it wasn't too painful thanks to the thick snow cushioning her fall. She gritted her teeth and climbed up to her feet. She raised her head to see his hand, offering to help.
His habitually placid eyes showed a teasing gleam which pissed Hermione off. She turned her head and pushed him away to stand up by herself. “I was only quipping with you. How can you be so petty?” she said, as she dusted the snow from her body.
Then at the thought of something else, her anger ignited again: “You're actually playing with me aren't you? How can I walk blind-folded up there in only one day? You have a secret technique but you won't tell me. Aren’t you petty? It's a good thing you never take in any student. We'd only get teased by you all day long, then eventually we might even age prematurely and still not learn a thing.”
She spoke so valiantly, head raised high that the white hairpin on her head shook as it threatened to fall off. At last, it fell away from her hair and Lucius, who had been waiting, reached his hand out to catch it. Looking down at the hairpin in his hand, his eyes glimmered in recollection of something. “I thought you might wish to have some fun,’ He paused, ‘If that’s the case, then I can make things difficult for you.’
Her jaw dropped. He hadn’t made things difficult for her already?! If this was his idea of fun she shuddered to think what his idea of ‘difficult’ was. Then he slid the hairpin back onto her hair. While admiring it, he told her, “If you're after the golden apple, then just do as I say; you won't lose.’
She snorted loudly, ‘I’m shocked you’re dedicating this much time to training me. I would have thought you would have simply figured out a way to cheat.’
With a look of mild surprise he asked seriously, ‘Do I look like the type that would endorse cheating?”
It was too surprising hearing these words coming out of his mouth.
Hermione turned to the side and rubbed her jaw: “I don't think you're unfamiliar with these sorts of things...”
He wasn't too happy with the hairpin on her head. He removed it and turned it into a pink flower, then carefully pinned it back on her hair. “Then let's just say I'm being upright for once.”
Hermione wasn’t sure what to make of these words. She could never tell if he was being serious or not, or if he meant what he said. She decided to take one last leap of faith and believe that he actually wanted to him. Maybe he was being truthful and he was simply trying to be nice. She wanted to believe this, afterall, she could think of no other reason for him to spend so much time alone with her.
She silently touched her new hairpin and cleared her throat: “Then I'd have to thank you for putting in the effort to teach me.” As she said these words, she felt her remark had been a bit sarcastic, but he casually spoke first: “No problem. It's just quite rare to meet someone as dim as you. I look forward to the challenge.”
It was her first time being called stupid to her fast, and she felt her face flame, ‘These last few weeks I might have a few bad choices, but who was the one who provoked me? You lied to me about the Carrows, and I was sick for three days, I couldn’t even eat!’ She neglected to notify him that this was the result of her drinking but he did not need to know that.
Lucius was amused by her outraged appearance. He enjoyed watching her for a time before replying: “I may have misled you, but in order to lead a raid and collect evidence, I was obligated to find a reason. You were selected to be placed with them because there was a belief that they would speak to others about plans to hurt you, and they did, hence there was sufficient reason to raid their home.’ He paused, “Had this been bothering you?”
She was absorbed by the words ‘obligation’. She hadn't paid attention to the rest of what he said. Having forgotten her anger, she unconsciously repeated those words: “By obligation?” A drafty wind cast a thin curtain of snow dust over her eyes.
He frowned slightly, ‘Did you think I would invest so much time in your case otherwise? I think you overestimate the amount of time I have on hand to dedicate to such matters.’
Since this was a rare instance to see inside his head, she wanted to ask directly about Madeline, but chose a safer person, ‘If I were Narcissa, would you have put her in such a situation?’
This made him raise his eyebrows, ‘Narcissa? I once promised my father that I would protect her. But this is filial duty.’
Hermione stared at him for several moments. She knew this already, but she was surprised to hear him say it to her say candidly, as if there were no deeper meaning. ‘….I almost feel sorry for Narcissa.’ It seemed Martel was correct, and Lucius really was not in love with his own wife—she sounded like a piece of baggage he was carrying around, nothing more. ‘I can’t imagine what you think of me.’
He hesitated, then finally said“You? You're different, Hermione.”
She looked up in surprise and caught his gaze. He quietly looked at her for
a moment. “I'm a little thirsty from all this talking. I'll go brew some tea. Take this time to practice.”
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- 12
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