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The Senior Project	By : Lizski Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 37490 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter 12

Severus smiled to himself; the impromptu meeting with Lucius had gone quite well, he thought. Lucius was convinced that he would help keep Hermione and Draco apart, although it was clear that the blonde obviously didn't realize how he planned on keeping the two of them apart. And he certainly didn't have any intentions of letting him know, either.

Which brought him back to thinking about Hermione. He felt confident that he had made great strides with her today. Letting her in to his private study had been a good first step. She had been comfortable enough to stay for several hours (he'd checked the times that the door had been opened again). The next step would be to invite her to come in whenever she wished, letting her know that it would be a quiet, private place that she could escape to whenever she wished. And he would 'accidentally' join her, letting her get more comfortable with him. Yes, that would be the best plan. Time was on his side here, as he couldn't officially pursue Hermione for several months to come.

And yet in that time, he would be able to subtly woo her, so that she would be ready for him when the time was right. He smiled again, returning to his earlier fantasy of her bent over his desk. Because, of course, if things moved along more quickly, that would be acceptable, too.

****

Lucius settled into his favorite chair by the fire, a brandy in his hand, a folder on the end table next to him. He had to see Hermione again; her response to his note had been etched in his mind, and it made him more determined than ever to see her. And more determined to know something about her.

He reached for the folder. It had been prepared by one of the flunkies at the Ministry for him. A few extra galleons in the hands of an underpaid employee ensured top-quality work. The first item in the folder was a photograph taken several months ago. She was in conversation with that dreadful Weasley girl, and she kept brushing her hair out of her eyes. He studied the picture for a few minutes, comparing it with his own mental images of her. He definitely preferred the flushed face, and the fire burning in her eyes compared to this photograph, but it wasn't bad.

He set the picture down and flipped through the information in the file. The first several pages included basic data, including grades, classes taken, and comments from various instructors. Interesting, but not what he was looking for. Personal information included observations on her friends (including a speculation on a possible friendship with Draco, he saw), her cat (which apparently needed the 22 hours of sleep it got each day) and her family (Muggles who spent their lives sticking their fingers in other people's mouths for unexplained reasons). The information was too superficial to be of any great use, other than he could ensure that her parents weren't killed in a Death Eater attack. Another several pages included the titles of every book she had ever checked out from the Hogwarts library. He perused it, wondering if he might have something that she hadn't read, but would still be of interest to her. He'd have to look later.

He put the folder back on the table. It gave him some background on her, but it didn't tell him anything about the woman she was, her drives, her desires, her goals, her loves. He could query Draco, but that would reveal his hand, especially if the two were spending as much time together as the report suggested. No, he'd have to find another way to do it.

He took another sip of his brandy when he felt the familiar burning itch on his left fore-arm. Damn. The Dark Lord had been summoning him despite the assurance that he could have time to investigate Severus. He had placated his Master by informing him that while Severus appeared to be a loyal follower, he was still examining other avenues. At the same time, Lucius had begun to wonder if the Dark Lord was investigating him, as well. He had no specific evidence of that, but he hadn't lived as long as he had without paying some heed to his hunches. It didn't do to think negative thoughts of the Dark Lord, but a small part of him wondered.

****

Several hours later, still dressed in his Death Eater robes, Lucius returned to his study, tired, his feet muddy, the infamous mask in his hands. The raid had been poorly planned, and even more poorly executed. Conflicting information had resulted in an hour of waiting while the discrepancies had been sorted out. Even then, paranoia among the Death Eaters had caused a split, and two groups had gone separate ways. The instructions that his group had received were flawed, and they had spent two hours traveling to various nondescript locations.

After Crabbe had been almost gored by a disturbed bull, Lucius had ended the failed raid, cursing the informants. The only indications that they had even been roaming the land were the two Dark Marks that had been cast ' one over the field of the offending bull, and another over a farm house that had been burned out several months before.

Gods. The whole thing had been a disaster. And he was getting too old to run around muddy pastures in the middle of the night. He really wanted to sit at home, a brandy in his hand, and preferably Hermione on his lap. If the Dark Lord wanted to cause havoc, these bumbling attempts were not the way to do it. Well-planned strikes that suggested that ordinary witches and wizards were vulnerable would be much more successful than random attacks on Muggle farm houses. And yet, his Master didn't seem to want to do that.

Merlin's brass balls. Didn't he understand that the true path to power was financial and political power? The wealth and ability to control financial markets, and the power to ensure that policies would always be in place that would continue to ensure control of the markets was true power. Raping, killing, and striking fear in the hearts of the populace were entertaining diversions (although the novelty was wearing off), but it wasn't true power.

He shook his head and sat down, reaching for his brandy again. Voicing thoughts like that would guarantee that he was on the receiving end of an Avada Kedavra. But surely he wasn't the only one with those thoughts, was he?

****

'Look at this. Another Death Eater attack. Sort of. A barn was set on fire, and three Dark Marks were cast. Not much else. Makes you wonder what's going on with them.' Harry handed the paper to Hermione in the common room.

'These so-called attacks are getting weirder all the time. I wonder if it's intentional ' trying to get people off their guard ' or if they are really so disorganized that they can't get their act together,' Hermione spoke her musings aloud, her mind working through the information.

'Dunno, Herm. But it is a little weird. It'll be interesting to see what happens next.' Hermione handed the paper back to Harry, and clearly the incident was immediately forgotten as he started reading the latest quidditch scores to Ron. She sighed. Any reminder of Death Eaters brought instant images of Lucius.

Damn. She couldn't help it. When she closed her eyes, she could easily see him; the strong lines of his body, the proud carriage. It pained her to admit to herself that she wanted him still. Even now. The dreams were not as frequent, but they were extremely intense, and she often woke up highly aroused. And it made talking about the betrothal agreement with Draco that much harder. She really needed to talk with him and let him know that she couldn't go through with it. It wouldn't be fair to him, and she just didn't see how she could do it.

She reached into her book bag and pulled out one of the books she had borrowed from Severus' study. Settling in for a good read, she ignored the rest of the inhabitants of the common room.

****

The next evening after dinner, Hermione found herself back in Severus' private study. The invitation had come after Potions, and had been delivered in a casually offhanded way, 'If you'd like a quiet place to concentrate on your work, Miss Granger, please avail yourself of my study. The entrance will be open at 8pm for a few minutes, if you'd like.' Too surprised to refuse, Hermione had nodded her assent.

She had been a little perplexed to discover Severus still clad in his black teaching robes, sitting in his leather arm chair in front of the fire, across from a duplicate leather char with a small matching footrest in front of it. The wizard stood up when Hermione arrive, and gestured awkwardly to the empty chair, 'I thought you might like a comfortable chair of your own.'

Hermione gazed at her professor in astonishment for a moment before she remembered where she was. 'Thank you, uh, S-sir.'

He closed the entrance from the corridor to the study. 'Please. When we are here, I would like it if you would call me Severus ' if you'd like, that is.' Hermione felt hot prickles of nervousness shoot through her body, and she glanced around the room in an uncertain response, the room suddenly feeling slightly claustrophobic. 'Thank you.' She paused, swallowing hard, 'Severus.' Damn. She knew the socially polite response. It just seemed so foreign. After a long pause, she added, 'Then please call me Hermione.'

Severus inclined his head toward her, a half-smile on his face. 'Very well. Would you care for some tea,' his lips twitched, 'Hermione?'

Hermione licked her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. Tea. It would make this feel less oppressive. 'Yes. Please. Thank you,' she amended hastily.

Expecting the house elves to deliver the tea to the study, she watched, amazed, as Severus tapped the far wall, opening a doorway to what she assumed was his private quarters. He slipped through the entrance and Hermione relaxed slightly. The opening removed the airless feeling from the room, and she found herself breathing more easily.

Moments later, Severus returned with a tray carrying a teapot, and two cups and saucers, as well as a small carafe of milk, a small cup of sugar cubes, and a dish of lemon slices.. He poured the tea for both of them, 'What do you take in your, Miss-er, Hermione?'

Hermione hid a smile, wondering if she had entered another dimension in which Severus Snape was a cordial host. 'Just a twist of lemon, please.' Severus nodded, preparing his own tea the same way before handing Hermione her cup. She sipped her tea and emitted a soft sigh of pleasure.

'This is such a pleasant change from the Gryffindor common room.' She blushed, thinking how that sounded. 'I mean, no heated debates about over-paid quidditch players, and no discussions about the season's latest cosmetics.' She smiled self-consciously. 'Sorry. It's just very relaxing. Thank you.'

She detected a hint of a smile on the usually acerbic man's face that flickered and disappeared, although a ghost of pleasure remained in his eyes. 'Please come down whenever you wish. I'll change the wards so that you can enter without any problems, if you'd like.' His gaze held hers for a moment before she looked away.

'That's very kind, but you don't have to.' Her words felt automatic; she wasn't used to dealing with a pleasant Severus Snape.

'True. But I'd like to. I rather enjoy your company.' He fell silent, sipping his tea, watching the fire. Hermione glanced at Severus, surprised that he would admit to such a thing. But he didn't say anything else, and she turned her attention back to her tea and the fire.

She finished her tea in companionable silence, and stood up to place the empty cup and saucer on the tray. She looked over at Severus, who was sitting in his chair in meditative stillness. She turned to the bookshelves, and found a book of interest. She sat down again, and with a furtive look at the dark-haired wizard, kicked off her shoes, and tucked her feet under her in the chair.

Severus glanced at the shoes on the oriental carpet, and immediately Hermione wondered what had possessed her to get that comfortable. She was, after all, a guest.

'Are your feet bothering you, M-Hermione? I could rub them for you, if you'd like?'

Hermione fought hard not to burst into uncontrolled giggles. Who was this man? It couldn't be Lucius. It had been too long. Unless, of course, there was something in his tea. Still, it didn't seem like Lucius to not reveal himself ' not after he had sent that note to her. No. This had to be Severus. Or his not-so-evil twin. And yet a foot massage sounded like heaven.

'Yes,' she finally croaked. 'That would be wonderful.'

Severus smirked, although Hermione would have guessed that there might have been a smile hidden somewhere. Severus moved to the footstool in front of her chair, and held out his hands. Trying to still hide her surprise, she unfolded her legs, and moved so that her legs were comfortably bent, her bare feet in Severus' hands.

He positioned one foot against his thigh while he concentrated on the other foot and leg. His fingers swept up the front of her leg, before his hand cupped the back of her calf, and he molded her calf muscles to his hand, sweeping down the length of her calf to her ankle. Hermione gasped at the light but firm touch of his fingers. He repeated the motion several more times, and she began to relax, slowly closing her eyes, giving herself over to the sensations of his hands.

As Hermione began to relax, Severus began to expertly knead the muscles of her calf more vigorously, relieving the dull tension in her leg. His hands worked down from the back of her knee to her heel, slowly squeezing the flesh. She wondered briefly if her now-high-riding skirt was revealing anything, but she pushed the idea out of her head. She didn't want to interrupt this.

Both hands began to slowly rotate the ankle joint, and Hermione sighed as her calf and ankle began to feel loose. Severus' fingertips gently caressed the ankle bone, and she shivered, wondering how that touch would feel if it were directed to other parts of her body. Her nipples tightened in response to the thought. The tips of his fingers slid over the length of the top of her foot, before his thumbs applied pressure to the sole of her foot. The steady pressure along the entire bottom of her helped soothe the pain in her arch, and she sighed contentedly.

She opened her eyes a slit, and saw a look of rapturous intensity on the wizard's face. She smiled happily, and closed her eyes again.

Severus' hands never stilled, moving from the sole of her foot to focusing on each individual toe in turn. His strong thumbs applied steady strokes to the base of the toe, isolating each joint, before he gently stretch each toe. As he repeated his ministrations on her big toe, Hermione gasped softly, the warmth of his hands sending whorls of heat spiraling through her body. Slowly, his hands moved back up her foot, caressing her ankle and calf again, his fingers lingering on the soft flesh at the back of her knee.

She shivered again, sliding her other foot along the top of his thigh, feeling the hard muscles of his leg. Almost inadvertently, she spread her legs a bit for him, opened her eyes again to see a dark fire burning in Severus' eyes. He licked his lips briefly, before resting the massaged foot against his thigh, and turning to the other foot. Hermione groaned again as his fingers applied pressure to her calf muscles, his thumbs brushing the flesh above her knee.

Hermione could feel her arousal building. Severus' touch was electrifying, and at the same time maddening in the slow, steady pace that he maintained as he worked his way down to her ankle.

Unconsciously, Hermione arched her back in the chair, her nipples hard points against the material of her bra. Feeling wanton, she slid her free foot along his thigh, until it rested against his hip, her skirt higher on her thighs. She caught a glimpse of the smirk on Severus' face, and relaxed into his hands again, releasing soft gasps of pleasure as his fingers explored particularly sensitive areas of her feet.

His fingers trailed up her calf one more time, finishing the massage, and Hermione opened her eyes, noticing her partially spread legs, her skirt hem on her middle thighs. Her body was humming with sensation, her face flushed. Severus' thumb lingered on the back of her knee longer that truly appropriate, before he spoke, he voice husky. 'You'd better go, Hermione. But come back tomorrow.' His voice was low, and Hermione shivered as he added, 'Please.'

Nodding, she sat up, pulling her skirt back over her knees, her own voice weak with need, her flesh disappointed at the dismissal, and yet she knew she had to leave now, while she could. 'Thank you, Severus.' She collected her book bag, and put her shoes back on, feeling the dark eyes boring into her skin. She smiled at him shyly as he opened the entrance to the corridor and left the study. Neither of them saw Lucius' head disappear from the fire.

~~~~

A/N: Yeah, updates are not coming fast and furious. It's nothing personal, it's just that it's ski season, and while there is no danger of the US Ski Team knocking on my door and asking me to 'fill in' in a few slalom races, I'm still attempting to get slightly less slow in a race course, and that has been sucking up a bunch of my time. Anyway, I am still working away on this ' it's not abandoned, just updating more slowly.

I mean, how can I leave poor Hermione pregnant with three wolves at her door? That would be cruel and unusual punishment! Besides, I'm really starting to have fun ' Lucius is really starting to take on a life of his own, and that is sort of a neat feeling for me!

Again, thank you all for reading this. I've been having fun with this, and while the updates might be a bit slower, they will still be coming. The Muses are fat and happy, but that doesn't mean they'll turn down any sustenance offered to them!
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The Senior Project