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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
- 11
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Chapter Eleven

After getting themselves drinks, Lucius settled himself on the couch, while Severus sat in Lucius’ wingchair. “So, tell me, Lucius, what game are you playing with Hermione?”

The blond wizard raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. “Me? Games? I’m not the one who presented an apprenticeship as a fait accompli.”

“I wanted Hermione to be able to continue her education. Even if she has chosen to play nursemaid to you. You, on the other hand, are plying her with jewels and expensive clothing. So I will ask you again. What is your interest in Hermione?” Severus’ voice was hard and dangerous.

Lucius frowned into his brandy snifter for a few moments. “That is a damn good question, my old friend,” he replied candidly. “My ancestral home was sold from underneath me. I can’t say I’m pleased about that.   And yet, Hermione saw to my supervised release from Azkaban. It’s a damn sight better to sit here at night, drinking expensive liquor and conversing with a brilliant young woman than to be pacing a small cell, drinking tap water and listening to nothing but the crashing of the waves on the rocks.” He looked at his glass again. “And the brandy definitely tastes better when it’s not yours. Of course, you’ve known that for years,” he smirked.

“So Hermione owns your home, and she provides you with good conversation. You’re only interested in the girl for her conversation? That certainly explains the clothes and the jewels,” Severus replied dryly.

“My entertainments are limited. And I find I don’t receive the same pleasure in purchasing clothes for myself as I do in selecting clothes for Hermione. As for the jewels? They were in the house when the Ministry sold it, and the Ministry sold the property and all the contents. The jewelry is legally Hermione’s. She just didn’t know she had it. I merely, ah, enlightened her.”

“Indeed,” Severus grunted, frowning.

“Loquacious as ever, Severus,” Lucius responded with a smirk. “But you haven’t said – what is your interest in Hermione? I find it hard to believe you are taking her on as an apprentice out of the goodness of your heart.”

Severus looked directly at the blond wizard. “She is the brightest witch of her age. It’s a great opportunity for her. And me,” he replied, shifting in his chair.

“I don’t doubt you see it as a great opportunity; the chance to seduce an attractive woman over a cauldron sounds like your wildest fantasy come true.”

“I don’t think the Ministry is particularly concerned with my fantasies. Unlike you, I am not a convicted Death Eater. My trustworthiness is not an issue with the Ministry,” Severus responded sharply.

“Of course not. As a double or triple agent, or whatever you were, I’m sure there are no questions about your trustworthiness,” Lucius’ voice vas laced with sarcasm. “But I congratulate you on your self-preservation skills. You certainly landed on your feet.”

"You didn’t do too badly, yourself. You are, after all, out of Azkaban. Of course, I would expect no less of a Malfoy.”

“True,” Lucius mused. “Self-preservation is a family trait, bred into us for generations.”

“Unfortunate about Draco,” Severus commented.

Lucius looked up suddenly, biting off his first response.   “I wish I knew more about what happened to him. If it weren’t for Hermione, I can’t imagine the state the boy would be in right now.” He paused, trying to choose his words carefully; there was a fine line between irritating Severus and downright pissing him off. “I’m surprised, as his godfather, you didn’t take a more active role in his care.” He spoke softly, but his words were pointed.

“I didn’t have a spare 100,000 Galleons. And the Ministry didn’t offer the Manor,” he added.

“Thank Merlin for that,” Lucius muttered. “Ah. I suppose it would have been asking too much for you to do anything out of a mere sense of obligation.” Severus’ lips tightened, and Lucius decided to back off a bit. At least regarding Draco. “Well, I consider myself very lucky that Hermione intervened. Both on my behalf and on Draco’s.” Lucius took a swallow of his brandy.

"And so my interest in Hermione?” the blond continued. “I owe her my life, and that of my son. I owe her a debt I can never repay.   While my past may be tainted,” Severus’ face took on a mask of mocking disbelief, but Lucius persisted, “I have nothing but the most honorable intentions toward Hermione. I won’t deny that I find her attractive, nor will I deny I find her intellect very appealing. But I will do nothing to harm Hermione. In any way.” He gazed levelly at Severus. “Can you say the same?”

“My actions are none of your business,” the dour wizard replied.

“They are if you have any designs on Hermione.”

“And I am here to make sure your designs are strictly monitored. The Ministry has authorized me to hex you into next Tuesday, if you lay a hand on Hermione,” Severus replied coolly.

Too late for that, Lucius thought with a private smile into his brandy glass. “While my options for retribution are more limited than yours, let me just state for the record that I am feeling quite protective of my patron. She is free to do as she wishes, but I will not stand for anyone who attempts to press her into doing anything she does not wish to do.”

“Admirable sentiments, Lucius. I didn’t realize Azkaban was in the business of actually rehabilitating its prisoners,” the dark-haired wizard sneered.

Lucius chose to ignore the comment. “I can help but notice your own intentions toward Hermione have remained, ah, unspoken.”

Severus took a sip of his sherry and stared into the fire, images from years past flashing through his brain. “I intend to keep her out of your clutches,” he finally responded.

Lucius smirked and lifted his glass, “May the best wizard win. And no cheating using lust potions or enchantment charms. Let’s fight the old-fashioned way.   With guile and cunning,” he added slyly.

“If you wish it. Guile and cunning,” the dark wizard lifted his glass in acceptance.

Use all the guile and cunning you want, my ‘old friend.’ I’m going after Hermione the truly old-fashioned way; honesty, genuine appreciation, and affection. If I can’t win her that way, then she wouldn’t be happy with me anyway, and if she’s not happy, then I won’t be happy, Lucius thought, certain Severus’ guile and cunning would be no match for his honesty and true affection.

“So tell me, Severus, what is the content of your report to the Ministry? Do you think I am controlling Hermione? That I am trying to influence her in some manner?” The blond smirked at his old acquaintance.

“Is that what it should contain?” Severus responded.

“I have no idea what the Ministry wants to hear. If it wants the truth, I’m curious as to what your view of the truth is.”

Snape sneered. “Me personally? I think they should have thrown away the key when you were locked up in Azkaban. But apparently Hermione has some sort of influence over you.” He took a sip of his drink. “For now. But I will be here every week, and I will continue to evaluate the situation and revise my opinion as necessary.”

“Evaluate away. Although perhaps the Ministry will permit me to order some more liquor, if you are going to be here on a regular basis,” Lucius raised his eyebrows in question, and when Severus didn’t speak, he continued, “Unless your habits have changed – and it doesn’t appear as though they have – I would like to lay in a good stock of scotch and brandy. Certainly more than 500 Galleons worth,” he added with a smirk.

“I could, ah, authorize such a purchase, I suppose,” came the muted reply.

“Excellent. I’ll place my order tomorrow, and give you a copy of the request to take the Ministry.” Lucius took another swallow of brandy. “So, now that we have the important issues handled,” the blonde settled more comfortably on the couch, “Tell me, what sort of work does the Ministry have for, ah, reformed Death Eaters?” Try as he might, Lucius couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

“Are you looking for a job?” Snape sneered. “A Malfoy, looking for a job. That sounds like the punch-line to a joke.”

“Not me, you squib.   You. What, exactly, do you do for the Ministry?”

“I was not a Death Eater, my old friend,” the dark-haired wizard responded heatedly.

“Oh. So it was your doppelganger at all those Dark revels? Very good likeness,” Lucius replied smoothly.

“I was acting under orders. Dumbledore, not the Dark Lord,” Severus replied testily.

“Ah. That excuse has worked so well in the past for so many others,” Lucius replied dryly. “Never mind. I won’t revisit the raping and killing you participated in. Ultimately, we answer only to ourselves,” he continued philosophically.

“So how do you answer to yourself?” Snape asked pointedly.

“I gave into a sense of entitlement – of being above any sense of morality. I gave in to my base urges.   I was a fool. I was young when I first followed the Dark Lord, and it became difficult to extricate myself as I got older.   In hindsight, if I had wanted to be the most influential wizard of our time, I would have done things quite differently. As it is,” he looked into his brandy snifter, as if searching for answers, “I made the decisions I did, and it is part of who I am. I accept responsibility for all I did, and am glad the Ministry has seen fit to give me some measure of freedom.” He leveled his glance at his former classmate. “I am very aware of the reprieve I have been given, and I will not fuck it up. There is a sense of liberation in accepting your past for what it really is,” he added.

The dark-haired wizard looked into his own glass. “Perhaps I will join you in some brandy.” He stood up, and Lucius handed him his own glass for a refill. Moments later, Severus returned with two brandy snifters, both filled with healthy quantities of liquor. Lucius nodded his thanks.

Severus sat back down in the wing chair, and both men were silent for a few moments, lost in their own thoughts. “By accepting what you’ve done, ah, your past. It doesn’t bother you?” Severus finally asked, his curiosity plain.

Lucius remained silent for a few moments longer before responding. “I’m not haunted by my past actions.” He paused, taking a sip of his brandy. “I’m haunted by the results. Being here is certainly better than being in Azkaban, but it’s also a constant reminder of my failure.” Whereas you, my old friend, haven’t failed by society’s standards, but you are obviously still haunted by your past deeds. The two of us have always been opposite sides of the same coin, it appears.

“Draco,” Severus said. It wasn’t a question, and Lucius nodded slowly. “Is there any hope?” the dark wizard ventured, not meeting Lucius’ eyes.

“No. That is, I don’t know. Hermione knows more than I do about his situation.   She said he’s making progress, but I don’t really know what that means. I don’t know if he’ll ever – if he’ll ever leave St. Mungo’s.” Lucius stared into the fire. “That’s what haunts me.” If Severus took pleasure in his loss, Lucius didn’t care. There was nothing that could be done to him now that was worse than what had already been done to him. Of course, Severus seemed to have his own demons.

The silence returned. Lucius pushed away his worries about Draco; there was nothing he could do about it tonight. Besides, he’d rather enjoy his memories of his hands and lips on Hermione’s skin earlier this evening.   Gods. She was so responsive. Not the restrained, prim girl I was afraid she might be. She wanted me. And by Jove, I wanted her. His cock twitched at the vivid memory. And Severus thinks he’ll be able to win her? Not a chance in Hades. Lucius glanced up at Severus, his eyes narrowing briefly, but the dark wizard didn’t notice. He was staring into the fire, clearly seeing something beyond the flames.

“What do you do these days,” Lucius asked conversationally. It’s probably unwise to attempt to see Hermione tonight, so I might as well make nice with Severus. “Are you still teaching? Or?” he trailed off.

“The Ministry felt my talents could be better utilized elsewhere.   And, I think they felt I had done my penance at Hogwarts. I consult on a variety of projects, but primarily I’m the head of the Potions Research Division,” his lips twisted wryly.

“Potions Research? I didn’t realize the Ministry—“ Lucius began.

“They don’t. It is a division of one.   Essentially, I show up to the Ministry, head to the dungeons – why dungeons, I don’t know – for students it’s to protect against explosions, but clearly someone in the Ministry felt I’d be at home in the dungeons. Or someone has a cruel sense of humor.   Regardless, I putter around the lab working on various requests, projects and my own research. I report directly to the Minister and have very little ‘required’ work. I could nap all day and I doubt anyone would notice. Or care,” he added. “I believe the position is a ‘reward’ for my services in the past,” the dark-haired wizard continued. “The solitude is a relief and a curse.”

Lucius nodded in understanding. “And so Hermione’s apprenticeship is a way for you to get out of the office, so to speak?” And it gives you the chance to attempt to seduce her while needling me. It sounds like your dream job.

“Yes. I get out of the office, and get to enjoy one of the finest wine cellars in all of England,” Severus smirked and took a swallow of brandy.

The wizards lapsed into silence again; Lucius found himself reflecting on last night, when he and Hermione spent much of the evening in companionable silence. He compared that with this evening. Severus was shifting in his chair, brooding into his brandy, his hair falling into his face. Lucius studied the dark-haired wizard. If Severus didn’t understand him, it would be equally fair to say he didn’t understand Severus. He had known the wizard since childhood and they had travelled in the same circles. They were both intelligent and excelled in school, although at the time, Severus had been more arrogant about his academic achievements than Lucius. Severus had also taken school more seriously; Lucius enjoyed an intellectual challenge, but he had never wanted to gain a reputation as a pedant, while Severus seemed to revel in it. They had both enjoyed athletics, although Severus gave up quidditch when he was apparent he wasn’t the best beater in Slytherin.   Interesting information, but not really useful. What was Severus’ real role with the Death Eaters? Or with Dumbledore, for that matter? Apparently the Ministry thought Severus was on their side. But then Voldemort had thought Severus was on his side. And Lucius had no idea on whose side his old classmate had really been. It was probably moot now. If he really had been a Death Eater, he’d want to bury that part of his history, but if he had been loyal to the Ministry, why was he buried in some dungeon? Maybe even the Ministry isn’t entirely sure where his loyalties had been.

Severus was lost in his own thoughts, unaware of Lucius’ scrutiny. The dark-haired wizard’s brain was less focused; his thoughts disturbed. Hermione owned the Manor.   Lucius wasn’t in Azkaban like he should have been. Lucius always made him feel inferior. It wasn’t anything the blond specifically did; it was just a feeling. Even now, Lucius was a war criminal living in his former home only by the grace of a young woman, and Severus still felt vaguely inferior. It was unsettling. And then there was Hermione. Hermione. Damn it. I’m finally in a position where I can actually do something about her – pursue her – and yet again, fucking Malfoy has beaten me to the punch. The bastard was in fucking Azkaban and he still got to her first. And I can’t compete with him when it comes to the clothes and the jewelry and the food. The bastard’s taste is superb. I’d look like an idiot. And I’d come up short. No. I can compete with him at his own game. I’ve got to go with my strengths. Hermione is ultimately an intellectual gourmet. I’m sure she’s amused by the pretty clothes and the baubles, but I’d be willing to bet the best way to win her is through scholarly challenge. I’ve just got to figure out what the hell that challenge – or challenges – will be. I’ll just have to spend more time with her to discover her academic interests.

Severus glanced over at Lucius; the blond wizard was stretched out on the couch reading something, glasses perched on his nose. Snape smirked. That’s one thing I’ve got over Lucius – better eyesight. Now if the bastard would go bald, I’d be set. Unconsciously he ran his fingers through his lanky hair and took another sip of his brandy. He watched the flames of the fire dance in the hearth, idly considering what topics might arouse Hermione’s substantial grey matter.

***

Hermione woke early the next morning, and stretched out in bed. The bed was sinfully comfortable, and the combination of blankets and quits made for a cozy cocoon, so rather than leaping out of bed each morning, she found herself luxuriating in bed and reviewing her plans for the day before getting out of bed. This morning she allowed herself a few extra moments to consider the events of last night. Freya’s winged helmet! Lucius. Damn. She thought back to their encounter in her dressing room, and it all seemed like a dream. A very pleasant dream, she thought with a smile. Thor’s balls. ‘Pleasant.’ Way more than pleasant. Hot. Tantalizing. And possibly a bad idea. But he felt damn good. And he made me feel really damn good! She giggled at the thought. Enough, Granger. Time to face the day. And with a sigh, she got out of bed and checked the weather before dressing for a run.

She had made it into the entry hall and thought she might just escape the house before she saw anyone. She wasn’t that lucky. “Hermione. I need to speak with you,” Severus’ voice made it clear he was issuing a command, not requesting an audience.

“I was just getting ready to go for a run. I’ll be back in an hour or so,” she replied, continuing to walk toward the doors to the garden.

“Now,” he insisted firmly.

Hermione stopped walking and looked at him. He was a good head taller than she, and she had to look up at him. She didn’t really like being in that position; she felt it made it harder for her words to carry any authority. “If you’d like, we can walk in the garden or on the paths of the estate. I don’t think it’s going to rain. At least not for a while.”

“Very well. It’s probably best to talk away from the house anyway.”

“Why?” She frowned. “It’s my house, you know. The house-elves don’t report to Lucius. Most of them avoid him, actually. But,” she added hastily, not wanting to miss the opportunity to get outside while the weather was still fairly decent, “I’d still prefer to be outside this morning.”

“As you wish,” he responded, and escorted her into the gardens.

They walked for a few moments, their feet crunching on the gravel path as they spoke of nothing more weighty than some of the herbs growing in the garden, including an exceptional specimen of Wolf’s Claw growing at the base of a clump of dwarf oaks. They wandered further, Severus taking the lead; apparently he was quite familiar with the gardens of the Manor. They stopped in an arbor that looked as though it had been designed centuries ago to be a Druid grove, although whether the arbor was used actually used by Druids or if it was just designed to pay homage to the ancient rites, Hermione was uncertain. The canopy of tree branches let in only a little of the weak November sun, and a small spring burbled in the center of the clearing. The place had a slightly eerie feeling to it, Hermione almost expected to see skulls hanging off the trees. Severus indicated a small bench made of stone slabs, heavily covered in moss and lichen and directed Hermione to sit. The stone was cold through her running tights, and noticed for the first time Severus was more warmly dressed than she.

He noticed her give a small shiver. “Forgive me. I had forgotten you weren’t dressed for sitting on damp benches. Stand up.” Obediently, she stood up, and he whipped off his cloak and lay it on the bench before beckoning her to sit again. She sat, and couldn’t help but notice he was dressed in his usual garb with far too many buttons. Sometime when I’m feeling brave, I’ve got to ask him about those damn buttons, she thought idly, trying to dispel her growing sense of unease.

“Hermione,” he began, her name rolling of his tongue in a way that gave her pleasant chills. “I wanted to speak to you in private before I left,” his voice was silky, almost seductive. “As I said yesterday, I am concerned about Lucius’ interest in you. I have known him long enough to know his motives are rarely pure – except when he is looking out purely for his own interests.” His black eyes bored into her.

The young witch was speechless and Severus continued. “I am here to evaluate Lucius, and your ability to manage him. Last night I asked Lucius directly what his intentions were toward you. He was vague in his response, but it is my belief he intends to use all of them to draw you to him. Despite the restrictions the Ministry has placed on Lucius, he has a vast array of, ah, ‘means’ at his disposal.”

“For what purpose?” Hermione asked, bemused at the turn in the conversation.

“Because, Hermione, if you are sympathetic to Lucius, you are likely to convince the Ministry to grant him more freedoms, and he will use those freedoms to return to a position of influence, after which he will be free to do as he wishes. And you have seen what he has done when he has been free to do as he wishes in the past.”

Wow. Are you kidding me? “Do you really think Lucius is looking to take over the world?”

Severus’ eyes narrowed. “Hermione, forgive me, but you are idealistic. You see what you want to see.” He took a studied breath before speaking in a low, even tone. “You need to ask yourself, how much do you really know about Lucius and his past? How much has he told you himself? And how much have you filled in the gaps with what you believe rather than what is true?” His eyes flashed with intensity, and his normally silky voice became staccato.   “I have known Lucius much longer than you have, and when Lucius wants to put on a good front – and believe me, he wants to do that now – there is no one better. He can appear to be the most charming, handsome, kind man when he is trying to convince someone that is his true nature.”

Hermione started to protest, but the dark-haired wizard continued, his voice becoming hard. “I’ve seen Lucius with gore on his hands and bloodlust in eyes.   I have seen him do things you couldn’t even imagine. You are a head-strong girl, and prone to rushing into situations you don’t fully understand. You’ve gotten away with it in the past, but you can’t get lucky forever. You’ve got to ask yourself how much you really know about your houseguest before you give him the keys to the kingdom.” Severus paused, and reached his hand to Hermione’s face, tucking a stray stand of hair behind her ear.

Hermione was too surprised to react, even when his finger traced the line of her jaw before he put his hand over hers. “You are an extremely bright witch, but you haven’t had much experience as a woman. You would not be the first witch, or even in the first hundred to be seduced by Lucius Malfoy when he wants something. I can assure you he would rather be here, drinking your scotch and dressing you up with pretty baubles than sitting in a cold, dank cell in Azkaban. You got him out of that cell; I’m not sure what he did to convince you to get him released, but he did. If you become too, ah, friendly with Lucius, he will press his advantage, and continue to press his advantage until he gets everything he wants.” Severus’ thumb gently stroked the top of her hand.

Hermione was having a hard time reconciling what Severus was saying with how Lucius had acted toward her and toward Draco.   Lucius had told her following Voldemort was a catastrophic mistake and at this point, his only drive was to carry on the family line. Is that what Severus is talking about? Does he think Lucius is going to try to convince me to help carry on the Malfoy line? This is preposterous.

“Hermione, you are a beautiful woman. And I understand how Lucius might appeal to you – at least superficially. But you have so many more options. Lucius is here, he’s convenient, and he’s certainly laying on the charm. But you don’t have to settle for him, simply because he’s here.” He clasped her hand and leaned in toward her. “I’m never going to be far away. I think you are the most elegant, ethereal woman I have ever met, and I want the chance to spend time with you. I want-- I would like us to have the chance to get to know each other as adults. Will you give me that chance?” His voice was soft, and he was so close to her she could feel the heat from his body.

Gods. She had dreamt of this for so long; of Snape – Severus – wanting her, kissing her, touching her. And now there was Lucius. Sonofabitch.

Severus took her head in his hands and drew her mouth to his. His lips were surprising soft, the touch of his tongue gentle. Hermione put her arms around his shoulders, her fingers stroking the silky soft hair at the nape of his neck as their mouths explored each other. Hermione felt electric heat pool deep inside her, and she moaned into the dark haired wizard’s mouth. He stroked the sides of her face as he kissed her deeply, his own body reacting to long-dormant sensations.

Severus pulled back, his pale skin flushed. Hermione’s smile fueled the newly-kindled flame in his body. Gods. I want this woman. I want her wholly and completely. I want her to be mine. To call my name, to hunger for me. And I’ll be damned if that blond bastard takes her from me. “Hermione,” he whispered, “Come to dinner with me tomorrow night. Let me treat you the way you deserve – someplace a little more, ah,” he looked around the small grove, “Someplace more comfortable,” he finished, a smile on his face.

Bloody hell. “Tomorrow? Uh, I think that should be okay,” she smiled, her heart pounding. What the hell am I doing? Living. Living dangerously, that is. Fuckity fuckity fuck.

Hermione was treated to smile. “Thank you. I look forward to it. I’ll owl you the details later today. Unfortunately, I have to go. I have business I’ve must take care of today. But I want to get it cleared away so I can plan a wonderful evening for you.” The wizard stood up and offered her his hand. He assisted her off the bench and Hermione handed him his cloak. Tucking her hand next to his body, he escorted her back to the Manor, each lost in their own thoughts.

When they reached the main hall of the Manor, Severus stopped, Hermione’s hand still tucked next to his body. “I will be taking my leave of the Manor shortly. Thank you for your hospitality,” he gave her an intimate smile, and Hermione felt herself blush. “I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. I’ll be owling you later.” He bent down and gave her a quick peck on her cheek, and out of the corner of her eye, Hermione saw the door to the dining room close. Hermione took off to her suite of rooms while Severus strolled into the dining room, a smirk on his face. Guile and treachery, indeed, he thought with satisfaction.

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 mis-use of Latin…

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.

And Lucius calls Severus a ‘squib’ in the way we might tell a friend s/he’s an idiot.

As always, huge thanks to Mamacita-san, who beta'ed this chapter ages ago; any typos, misspellings or other catastrophes are completely my own fault and not hers. Also, I keep working away at this, but life seems to interfere. I have this outlined and have later chunks of the story written, but just haven't been able to find time to fill in the gaps. However, I'm going to keep working on it, and hopefully one of these years, the Fates will be kind to me, and I can finish it. I apologize for the hideous amount of time between updates, but I am committed to finishing this, even if I'm old and gray (okay, older and grayer) when it's done! *grin* As always, thanks for reading, and please let me know what you think.
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The Kill Shot