Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

The Kill Shot	By : Lizski Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 12741 -:- 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
- 12
- 13
- 14
Hermione spent the rest of the morning in the study off the bedroom suite. It was a fairly small room off her bedroom with lined with bookshelves on two walls, a heavy oak roll-top desk against a third wall, and a leather couch under an octagonal window on the fourth wall. A small table in the corner of the room held a complicated armillary sphere. She sat in the desk chair as gazed idly out the window at the heavy clouds in the sky, her brain mulling over the events of the last 24 hours.
On the one hand, Severus is right. I don’t know much about Lucius. I’m not sure I really want to know the specifics of what he did as a Death Eater. I know he doesn’t deny being one. I have no idea why he did what he did in Varian Glen. And I don’t know what he wants to do with his life. Is he content to be a ‘paroled’ prisoner, or does he want his name cleared? I’d think if he wants his name cleared, he’d have said something about it by now. Why wouldn’t he want his freedom? Unless, with Draco being how he is, there’s nothing for him. But he said the most important thing in his life is to continue the family name. Is he thinking I’m going to do that? Or does he think Draco is going to be cured? Or- or what? It’s not like he could marry someone else without having his name cleared. I doubt the Ministry would let him get married – or have a legitimate heir – without at least being pardoned. And why would the Ministry pardon him? Money, maybe.   Arthur Weasley is right – the Ministry is not going to want their perfect ending of Harry killing Voldemort challenged. But I’d like to know for certain. I mean, I’m pretty damn certain Lucius killed Voldemort, but I’d like to know it absolutely. And I’d like to know why he did it. But would the Ministry ever pardon him? And what would he do if they did pardon him? Leave here and live someplace else? What would I do?
And what about last night? Mab’s knickers. That was intoxicating. And he was turned on, too. No question about it. It would have been nice to unzip those trousers of his and see what he was hiding in there. She grinned wickedly. It felt good! But damn it. Yes, I want to sleep with him. But should I? How bad an idea would that be? Is he just looking to get laid or is he looking for something else? Is he looking at me because I’m the only female available to him, or does he mean all that crap he’s said about really liking me? And the Weasleys would probably disown me if they knew I was even thinking about it. Damn it. If I sleep with him before I know him, and know what he wants, I’ve got a feeling I’ll regret it. Patience, Granger. It’s not like he’s going anywhere.
But what the hell was the deal with Snape? Talk about not knowing someone. She ran her fingers absently through her hair. Is he really interested in me? Or am I a pawn in some game he’s playing with Lucius? Merlin’s balls. How do I manage to make life so complicated? There are times when I really wish I could make myself happy with a life like Molly Weasley’s. Except I’d be crawling the walls in about 30 seconds. Why can’t I find a happy medium; somewhere between a burning lust for former Death Eaters and turning into Molly. She shook her head and noticed lunch was sitting on the desk.
Lunch? Shit. What time is it? She glanced at her wrist watch. It was a little out of place in the wizarding world – most people preferred pocket watches – but it was one convenience from the Muggle world she wasn’t willing to let go of.
Lucius stood up when Hermione entered the library; it was a formal and even old-fashioned mannerism for a man to stand up when a lady entered the room, but Lucius did it almost automatically, and she appreciated the gesture. “Hermione. Are you well?” His voice was heavy with concern.
“Uh. Yeah. I’m fine. Why do you ask?”
“I was worried about you. I assumed either you weren’t feeling well, or you were, ah, avoiding me,” he said simply.
“Oh,” Hermione flushed. “No, I wasn’t avoiding you.” Although it suddenly dawned on her that Lucius might very well think she was avoiding him; she had gone to her rooms directly after dinner, and she hadn’t come to the library this morning, even after Severus had left. She hadn’t been alone with him since they were in her dressing room. “No,” she repeated hastily. “I, ah, that is, I was in the study off the bedroom – I was thinking, and time got away from me.” The statement felt inadequate.
“Thinking,” Lucius repeated. It was a question, although one that could be avoided if she so chose.
“Yes. Um. Severus said some things to me this morning that got me thinking—“
“Ah. Severus.” Lucius’ mouth tightened almost imperceptibly. “Should I be worried?” He attempted to sound light-hearted.
“No,” she began unconvincingly.
“Sit down,” he urged, beckoning her to the wing chair. “And you can tell me what you were thinking about. Or you can just continue to think,” he added with a very small smile.
Hermione sat, choosing her words carefully before she spoke. “I wasn’t avoiding you. Not intentionally. I was just bouncing some ideas around in my brain, and frankly, before I knew it, it was afternoon.” She paused, her gaze slightly unfocused before she turned to face Lucius, who had seated himself on the couch again. “What do you think of Severus?” she asked abruptly.
“What do I think?” the wizard began, uncomprehendingly.
“I’m not sure I trust him,” Hermione said, sounding a little vague.
Lucius felt himself relax slightly. “What do you mean?” he asked, hoping to gain a better understanding of what she had spent the morning pondering.
“What side was he on? He said he was always on the side of the Order and the Ministry, and yet Voldemort seemed to think he was solidly on his side. And I honestly don’t know. Not that it matters at this point, other than it makes me wonder about him. If he could be so convincing to both sides, how could I possibly know if he’s trustworthy now? Is he really looking out for my interests, and trying to help me? Or does he have some other goal, and he’s just trying to make me believe he’s concerned about me?” She was thinking out loud.
Lucius nodded slowly. “I can certainly understand why you’ve spent the morning thinking about this,” he said with a slight smile. “I wonder the same thing. I’ve been acquainted with him most of my life, and yet I can’t really say that I know him. As for his allegiance? I can say with certainty Severus was solidly on his own side. I don’t think Severus is loyal to anyone other than himself.    And I think he looks out for his own interests first. Whenever he appears to be doing something for the benefit of someone else, I don’t think you would be wrong to ask yourself ‘what’s in it for Severus’.”
The witch eyed the wizard thoughtfully. “What about you?” she asked abruptly.
His eyebrows shot up in surprise before he gave her a smile. “A reasonable question.” He put his feet on the couch, stretched out and made himself more comfortable before he responded. “My family’s interests have been my primary motivation. My allegiance has always been to my family. That doesn’t mean I haven’t made some bad decisions, but ultimately I have tried – and will continue to try – to do what is best for my family.”
Hermione nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “At least you are honest.” But where do I fit in to that equation? Am I a means to an end? A diversion? She couldn’t bring herself to ask, her Griffindor courage temporarily deserting her.
“I have nothing to hide from you,” the wizard replied gently. “And if Severus has been talking to you, I’m sure he has tried to offer you his own opinion of me.” He looked searchingly at Hermione. “I would hope you feel comfortable enough with me to ask me about anything Severus has said to you,” he said hopefully. “You can ask my anything,” he added. “I’ll be honest with you.”
Hermione’s brain raced and she mentally chastised herself for not having any close female friends she could turn to. Not that Ginny Weasley would be particularly unbiased when it came to deciding between the motivations of two wizards; she had no great love for Severus, but her animosity toward Lucius was almost legendary.
Hermione sighed, her brain warring with itself. Wasn’t there some unwritten rule saying you shouldn’t tell your lover – or potential lover – everything on your mind? You should keep some things to yourself? Damn, I’m no good at this.
At Hermione’s silence, Lucius continued. “Severus informed me last night that he wished to pursue you.”
“Really? He did?” Her voice came out higher-pitched than she had planned.
Lucius smirked, not unkindly. “Yes. Last night. He asked me what my intentions were, and when I informed him that they were strictly honorable – and they are, you know – he told me,” Lucius paused suddenly, choosing his words carefully, “He told me he was interested in you, and he intended to, ah, court you.”
“’Court’ me?” Hermione asked, disbelievingly.
“Those weren’t his exact words,” Lucius admitted with a small smile.
Hermione allowed herself a nervous grin. “I don’t imagine those were his exact words. Especially since he told me he believed you were intent on seducing me for your own nefarious purposes.”
The blond wizard chuckled. “Did he?” He leaned back into the cushions of the couch. “I’m not surprised. Severus seems to think that I desire power for its own sake. He has never grasped the idea that I have always sought power and influence for the benefit of my family.” He paused. “Not that I’ve been very successful at that, mind you.”
“So--,” Hermione faltered, still uncertain about how much directness was appropriate, “Where do I fit in?”
Lucius studied the witch for a few moments before answering. “You are my savior. And the savior of my family. You got me released from Azkaban. You secured Draco’s care when no one else would. For those two things alone, I owe you my life. And I hold you in the highest regard. And yes, I desire you. And I flatter myself to think that the feeling is returned. But if you told me now – or ever – that you wanted nothing further to do with me, I would respect your wishes, because as much as I desire you, I respect you even more.”
Hermione opened her mouth to speak, but Lucius gave his head a gentle shake. “I yearn for you, and I would like nothing more than to have you in my bed. Or your bed,” he added with a slight smile, “But I won’t push it. Take your time and evaluate your feelings.   And if you decide that you are only interested in bedsport and nothing more, I would settle for that. But if you found that you desired more, I would be thrilled. And,” he inclined his head slightly, “if you decide you’d rather be with Severus, I will be your loyal friend and confidant. I might not be happy about it, but I’ll be here for you. I know Severus better than anyone, and if you choose to have a relationship with him, it wouldn’t hurt to have the benefit of my experience with him.” He held her gaze for a moment. “Hermione, I have feelings for you that I have never felt for another human being; I hold you in the highest regard, I enjoy your company, I am dazzled by your intellect. I would never insult you by being anything less than honest with you. I promise you that.”
The witch nodded, overwhelmed by the power of his words.
“Of course,” Lucius smirked, “If you do choose a personal relationship with Severus, I can’t promise that I won’t punch the bastard if he hurts you. Or even slights you. I’ve never liked that nose of his,” his lips twisted into a smile, and his tone was light, but Hermione had no doubt he meant the words.
“I, uh, I have agreed to have dinner with him tomorrow night,” she blurted out.
“Indeed,” came the non-committal response, Lucius’ voice carefully measured. I wonder what ‘guile and treachery’ my old friend is going to attempt to employ. Damnit, Hermione. Why couldn’t you just be happy with me? Why does Severus have to stick his ungainly nose in our life? “And where is this dinner going to take place?” He tried to keep his voice calm.
“No idea. He said he’d owl me with the details.”
“Lovely,” Lucius muttered.
“What?”
“Nothing,” was the terse reply.
Hermione gazed thoughtfully at Lucius for a few moments before picking up one of the books she had been reading. She opened the book and stared at the page, unable to focus on the words. She wanted to tell Lucius she was only going out with Severus because he had demanded it of her, but she couldn’t come up with the words she needed to convey her thoughts. Keeping the book open on her lap, she reflected on Lucius’ words to her; his intentions were clear. Sort of. What did he mean ‘if she desired more’? She continued to ponder the conversation, unaware of Lucius’ furtive glances at her.
***
Several hours later, Lucius and Hermione were working at a large table in the library, cataloging a series of maps. In truth, Lucius was attempting to provide some order to the collection while Hermione poured over three very old maps with highly accurate depictions of the coastline of the Antarctic, as well as indications of the lost island of Atlantis. The date on the oldest map was 1217 AD.
Seeing the map project wasn’t going to go much further at this point, the wizard decided to broach a subject he had been curious about for some time. “So,” he tried to sound casual, “About last night,” Hermione flushed, “I hope I wasn’t too out of line.” He paused, noticing the color in her cheeks. “Forgive me for asking, and feel free to slap me if I am being impertinent.”
Hermione raised her eyebrows at this completely unexpected line of questioning, although she had a hint of an idea of what he was going to ask, and felt an almost uncontrollable desire to giggle.
“Are you a, ah, mmph…?” His voice trailed off delicately.
“A virgin?” Hermione asked with a hint of a smile on her face as she turned away from the maps, afraid that the smile was going to turn into the giggles. Lucius nodded and Hermione felt her cheeks burn. “No,” she said, finally. Why does he have this obsession about my sex life? When a normal person wants to get to know someone better, they ask about hobbies, other interests, personal history. She caught herself short. Duh. Personal history is a touchy subject, and maybe this is how to get at it without end up discussing Death Eaters and Voldemort. With that thought, she relaxed a bit.
“Viktor? I would like to know, but if you don’t want to talk about it, I understand,” he replied smoothly.
“Do you really want to hear about it?” she asked. “I mean, no offense or anything, but I really don’t want to hear about your sex life.”
“Thank the gods for that. It definitely falls into the category of Things You’d Rather Not Know.” He gave a dry chuckle, and stood up, walking toward the crystal decanters on the sideboard. He poured a brandy for himself and after a glance to Hermione and a responding nod, a scotch for her. “My sex life, as you call it, actually falls in the category of Things I’d Rather Not Remember. So you won’t hear anything from me.” He walked back to her and handed her the scotch before he sat down on the couch and took a swallow of his brandy. “But I confess, I am curious about you. If you don’t mind telling me. Consider it part of the ‘getting to know you better’ experience.” He smiled, and Hermione couldn’t help but return the smile.
That’s it, she thought with satisfaction. This is how he plans to get to know me better. But how do I get to know him better? Hermione followed him to the couch and sat on the far end, so she could see him, but easily look away if she felt uncomfortable. Settled, she took a swallow of her own drink. “Okay. I don’t mind telling you. If you’re sure you want to know.” At his nod, she continued.   “No, it wasn’t Viktor. He wanted to, but I didn’t. So we didn’t. He was a nice enough guy, but,” she shrugged, “it just didn’t feel right.”
“And is that why you broke up?”
The witch smiled. “Naw. We just grew apart. You know, he was an international quidditch star, and frankly, I couldn’t care less.” Lucius raised his eyebrows in interest, but said nothing. “No. It was over the spring Solstice vacation in my 6^th year.” She looked at him. “You really want to hear this?” She asked again, wishing yet again for female friends who might have provided some guidance on talking about one’s previous love life with a potential future lover.
He nodded vigorously and she continued. “I decided I wanted to see what all the fuss was about,” the wizard smirked at her words and she pointedly ignored him. “All the girls were talking, and I figured I wanted to see if it was as all-consuming as they made it sound. I didn’t like any of the boys at Hogwarts, and really couldn’t see doing it with any of them. Teen-age boys are a lot more boy than man, and I figured if I was going to sleep with someone, I wanted someone who knew what they were doing.” Lucius smirked again.
Hermione took another sip of her scotch. “My parents and I went on an adventure holiday in Spain; it was the last time I saw them alive, actually. Not that I knew that then, of course, but I’m glad my last memories of them were happy.” Not wanting to become maudlin, she went back to the tale of losing her virginity. “We were on a vacation cycling through the countryside.” He gave her blank look. “Bicycles.” Still the blank stare. Apparently her explanation hadn’t clarified things, and she didn’t really want to get into a discussion of bicycles and ‘adventure tourism’.
“Never mind. It doesn’t matter. We traveled a certain distance each day, saw the sights and spent the nights in various hotels. Everyone rode at his or her own pace, and we would divide up into groups during the day. My parents sort of dawdled, and I ended up riding in a group with an American teacher. He was in his thirties,” she could still picture him; a compact athletic man with dark hair and a quick smile. “He was – is- a teacher. He taught biology - the study of life.” Lucius looked perplexed, but said nothing. “His wife had died a few years before, and he was taking the trip they had planned to take together.   We rode together for a few days, and spent a great deal of time talking.”
“Was he curious about your background? Being a witch, that is.”
“I didn’t tell him. He’s a Muggle – everyone on the trip was, except me, of course. When he asked me about school, and he did, I told him I was a student at the University of Fribourg, in Swizerland. Their vacation schedule matched mine, and no one else on the group would be able to contradict me.”
“Very thorough of you,” he murmured.
Hermione blushed. “I didn’t ever want to be in a situation where I could be caught out in a lie.” She took a breath, realizing she was stalling. “Anyway, he was a very bright guy, very funny, too. Jim. His name was Jim and I decided that he’d be the one. My parents were staying in a room together, and I was in a different room, so one night I went to visit him. He was a little surprised, but not too surprised, I don’t think.” She smiled at the memory. “We knew we would never see each other again after the trip was over, so we just enjoyed each other and the week we were together. It was fun,” she smiled again.
Lucius smiled in response. “Good. I’m glad he treated you well. You deserve it. And you made a good choice with an older man. Teen-age boys are too focused on themselves to have any idea what to do with a woman.” Hermione nodded.
“He was a good guy. And he taught me to be comfortable in my own skin. I can’t thank him enough for that.”
Hopefully I’ll be able to thank him for it, as well, thought Lucius.
“We went our separate ways at the end of the trip, of course, but I’ll always think fondly of him.” Hermione couldn’t read Lucius’ expression, but he seemed to have a faint smile on his lips.
“Anyone else?” he asked mildly.
“Nope. He was the only one.”   She looked into her drink, considering her next words. Should I really tell him? “I had a few crushes, but nothing serious.”
“Severus?”
“Merlin. You’re like a niffler that’s caught sight of something shiny,” she responded tartly.
Lucius remained silent.
“Fine. I had had a crush on him for a couple of years, but that last year, I started to think of him more as a man.” Lucius paled, and Hermione questioned the wisdom of talking about Severus. “In hindsight, I’m really glad I didn’t do anything foolish." Too foolish that is, she amended silently. "As he inadvertently pointed out today, I don’t know him, and I don’t want to get involved with anyone I don’t know. If something had happened that last year, I might have found myself bound to someone I didn’t really know. And someone I might not like when I did get to know him.”
“Bound to?” he repeated curiously, still pondering her words about Severus. She had been enthralled with him, but was glad nothing had happened. I’m going to have to consider what this means going forward. How worried should I be about her going out to dinner with Severus?
Unaware of Lucius’ train of thought, she continued. “I’m not a casual sex kind of person. I guess I’ve always known that. I know some people can just sleep with people without any emotional attachment, but I’m not one of them. And if I’m not attracted to a person’s mind as well as their body, I’m not going to sleep with him. Like Viktor. Nice guy, but,” she shrugged.
“Sawdust where his brains should be,” the wizard supplied helpfully, happy to be on more solid ground.
Hermione nodded, grinning. “Something like that. So that’s what I was thinking about this morning.   I don’t want to get physically involved with someone I don’t really know. I’ve got fond memories of Jim, and that’s how I want it to be. I don’t want to get involved with someone only to look back later and regret my decision.”
“But you don’t know what the future holds.   People change. You can’t know that at some time in the future you won’t grow apart from someone.”
“True. But if I don’t look before I leap and discover six months or a year, or five years or whatever, down the road that the person I’m involved with is an asshole – or worse – and I might have known that if I had taken more time to know him before I slept with him, I’ll look back on my decision with regret. And I don’t want regrets. I want to look back at any relationship with fond memories, rather than mentally kicking myself for being an idiot. I think I’ve got a better chance of the fond memories if I know who I’m getting involved with before I get seriously involved.”
“Very well thought out,” he replied with a small smile. The more time she spent getting to know Severus, the better his own chances were.
“You can thank Severus for that,” she replied, returning his smile.
“I’ll be sure to do that the next time I see him,” came the honest response.
“It applies to him, too. I don’t think he realized I really don’t know him, either. Or that his own words were going to come back on him,” she mused. “But he’s slippery. I don’t trust him.” Hermione was gazing into the fire, images of her former Potions instructor flashing through her brain. She looked back to the blond wizard. “I’m just a little confused right now. I mean, I don’t really know what I want, and I think I’ll be better off if I proceed cautiously. For a while,” she added, hoping Lucius wouldn’t interpret her statement as some sort of indication of a lack of interest in him on her part.
Lucius let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding. “And yet you’re going to have dinner with him.”
“Yes. It’s a very subtle form of blackmail – if I don’t go out with him, he’ll tell the Ministry that we’re having a torrid affair and through some convoluted reasoning, he expects this will result in you being returned to Azkaban and in his mind, I will be in desperate need of male companionship,” she replied with a wry grin.
“Ah,” Lucius replied uncertainly.
“Don’t worry – like I said, I don’t trust him. If his motives were pure, he wouldn’t threaten me with the wrath of Ministry, or imply that you could end up back in Azkaban,” she added with a sudden fierceness.
Lucius sipped his brandy, and then nodded slowly. “I think it’s a wise decision to be wary of Severus’ motives,” he finally concluded, trying to quash his worries.
***
The owl came later that evening as they were listening to the continuation of the Gothic romance they had started a few nights ago.
Hermione,
I thought you might enjoy a performance of ‘Die Walküre’ at the Philharmonic, and dinner afterward. I will pick you at 6 tomorrow evening.
With great anticipation, Severus
“Wagner?” she spoke aloud.
“Ah, Severus is emphasizing his bombasticity, I see.”
Hermione giggled. “’Bombasticity’? Is that even a word?”
Lucius glowered at her. “It is, if I say it is.”
Hermione failed to hide her grin. “Apparently Severus seems to think I’d appreciate going to an opera.” She snorted her disgust. “Opera? And Wagner, of all people.”
“Another wizard,” Lucius added unnecessarily. “Which overblown opera is Severus going to torment with you?”
“Die Walküre of all things. Talk about a short, lighthearted evening,” she replied.
“The opera,” Lucius mused. Severus, you poor bastard. You don’t have a clue how to woo a woman. Five hours of Wagner? Really? “I don’t suppose you have anything to wear to the opera,” he added.
“No, and I don’t see him offering to deliver anything, either,” she added with a smirk.
“Is that a hint?” Lucius responded.
“No,” she replied, suddenly feeling embarrassed. She hadn’t meant to suggest Lucius should buy her something for her date with Severus. “I was just acknowledging that some wizards,” she inclined his head toward him, “have the sense to recognize when a witch might not have the desired clothes for a given occasion.” She smirked happily. “So it will be his own damn fault when I’m the only person at the opera wearing jeans and a sweatshirt.”
“Or,” Lucius drawled, “I could buy you something completely appropriate – and frighteningly demure, of course – so you know at least one wizard in the world is considerate.”
“No. I couldn’t ask you to do that. Severus will have to live with jeans.”
“No,” the wizard replied slowly. “No, I don’t think so.   You’d be inappropriately attired, and I’d hate to think of even one person considering mocking you because of your clothing.”
“I don’t care,” Hermione responded defiantly.
“You might not. But it would disturb me greatly if someone said something that got through your tough exterior.” He shook his head. “I refuse to let that happen, even if Severus hasn’t considered this possibility. Besides, if you’re wearing something I bought you, you won’t forget about me while you’re out with him,” he added.
“You don’t have to—“ she protested.
“I want to. Besides, I’ll make sure Madam Malkin describes the dress very clearly on the copy of the receipt that goes to the Ministry.   That way Severus will know that I bought it for you,” he smirked with satisfaction.
“Hold on. I’m not going to be a pawn in whatever drama the two of you have going on,” she interjected.
You don’t have a choice. Severus and I have always been opposite sides of the same coin, and the mere fact of you being here with me has drawn you in. But I’ll be damned before I let Severus hurt you. Trust me, Hermione. Trust me.    “Of course not,” Lucius replied smoothly. “I don’t want you to feel out of place. And I want you to be reminded of me. The jab at Severus is just an added bonus. Besides, I insist. I like shopping for you. It will help keep my mind off the idea of you going out with my ‘old friend’.”
“I wouldn’t be too worried. Die Walküre is not exactly a light-hearted comedy. In fact, if I don’t feel suicidal when the opera is finished, I’ll consider myself lucky.” She paused. “Honestly. Wagner? Does he like Wagner? I didn’t think anyone actually liked attending Wagnerian operas – they’re so long! I thought people just went to the opera to show their friends how erudite they are.”
Lucius smirked at her observation. He had always hated the opera, and only went because Narcissa liked to feel socially superior, and it was usually easier to go than to argue.   “I would tend to think Severus is attempting to impress you.”
“Impress me, or intimidate me?”
Lucius raised his eyebrows in surprise at her words. “Does Wagner intimidate you?”
“No. When I was a kid, I saw a Bugs Bunny cartoon; uh, it’s a form of entertainment popular with kids that involves moving caricatures,” she added at Lucius’ blank face.   “One of the main characters was a rabbit who was perpetually hunted by a fairly inept hunter.”
“Indeed,” the wizard replied. “Your parents thought this was acceptable entertainment for a child?” he asked curiously.
“I’m not explaining it very well. It was an old cartoon – they had stopped making new episodes before I was born – and it involved a mix of human and animal caricatures.   Anyway, one of the episodes was based on opera – mostly Wagner’s Die Walküre, interestingly enough – and I watched the episode some many times my father finally declared that I should see what this particular episode was based on.”
“How old were you?”
“Probably eight years old.”
“Your parents took you to see a Wagnerian opera at the age of eight?”
“I really liked the music of the ‘Ride of the Valkyries’ and my parents thought I should see the music in context.”
“Your parents had curious attitudes toward child-rearing,” Lucius remarked softly.
Hermione smiled. “That they did.   Everything was a learning opportunity, and my parents never saw chronological age as a barrier to new experiences. So, we went to Die Walküre. Way too long, and even though I had read a synopsis of the story, my German wasn’t very good, so I had a hard time following the plot.” She chuckled at the memory. “Needless to say, I don’t think my father was disappointed when I didn’t want to see the rest of the operas in the Nibelung series.”
Lucius smiled. “I’m sorry I won’t ever get the chance to meet your parents. They sound like fascinating people.”
The witch gave him an ironic smile. “You saw them from afar – back when I was a second year at school. I think you were making snide remarks about them to Arthur Weasley, since they were Muggles, and he is fascinated by all things Muggle, and you, ah, you weren’t.”
Lucius waved his hand in silent acknowledgement. “I was more interested in wreaking havoc at Hogwarts. Not one of my better ideas,” he added in a wry tone. “But back to Wagner.   Why do you think Severus is attempting to intimidate you through Wagner?”
“I can safely say Severus knows nothing about Bugs Bunny and my Wagner fixation. He probably also doesn’t know that I have listened to Wagner a lot ever since.   I never saw the full Ring Cycle, but I’ve listened to it a great deal. I like the music – it’s got great emotion, and is actually easy to study to. Since you have to pay close attention to make out the words – which I now understand, by the way – it’s easy to tune them out, and just let the music wash over you while you study or read or whatever.”
“You are full of surprises, my dear. And I think you are right; Severus will have no clue of your degree of familiarity with the opera. In the wizarding world, it’s not exactly standard to bring one’s children to the opera, especially not Wagner. I am sure he is expecting you to be unfamiliar with the opera in general, and with this particular work, specifically.”
“That’s why I think he’s either trying to show me how worldly he is, or, he’s trying to make me feel uncomfortable by putting me in an unfamiliar, grandiose situation. It’s bound to make most people feel a little off-kilter, and that gives him a bit of a psychological advantage.”
“That sounds like the Severus I know,” Lucius conceded. “I wonder if he even recognizes what he’s doing, or if he thinks this will be some grand date designed to impress you and show you how cultured and sophisticated he is.”
“Good point. Either way, it will likely come as a shock to him when I start singing ‘kill the wabbit’ at the start of the third act.”
Lucius’ brow furrowed. “It would come as a shock to me.” He paused, thinking. “Is this cartoon thing important to you? Do you miss it?”
Hermione looked at him curiously. Is he suggesting he’ll somehow figure out a way to bring Bugs Bunny cartoons to the Manor? Talk about something that cannot possibly be explained. There aren’t enough hours in this lifetime to bridge that cultural gap. “No. It’s a good memory, and I don’t think it would be the same to see it again now.”
He nodded, not exactly understanding, but willing to let the subject drop.
Hermione settled into the couch, and with a glance at Lucius, who responded with a nod, she began listening to the gothic romance again. Moments later, platters of sandwiches, cheese, and fruit, as well as dishes of nuts appeared, and Hermione took a sandwich, munching contentedly.
Lucius studied the dark-haired witch covertly, contemplating how he would dress her for her ‘date’ with Severus.    Something exquisitely but subtly expensive. Severus might not know how much the dress cost but Lucius was certain other attendees of the opera would know, and that was all that mattered. Hermione would look spectacular, especially if she was going to be on the arm of a dour, pasty-faced wizard. Lucius indulged in a fantasy of attending the opera with Hermione himself and smiled to himself. They would make a striking pair. Somehow, he mused, I have to make that happen. Without Hermione being subject to Howlers and nasty glances, that is.
***
Lucius studied Hermione; the temptation to assist her accessorize had been almost overwhelming. Several quick swallows of scotch had dampened the urge enough to keep him out of her dressing room, but only barely. He wanted her to look stunning, but he didn’t want her to look overly sexy. Not on Severus’ arm. He finally settled on a light blue taffeta gown with ¾ -length sleeves, a modest v-neck, fitted bodice and full skirt. Silver threads ran through the material giving the dress an iridescent sheen as she moved. Silver trim on the bodice and neckline gave the gown an understated elegance – a look well-suited to Hermione. And it was expensive. Although Severus probably wouldn’t know that until he saw the bill as part of his ‘routine supervision’ duties. He smiled to himself at that thought.
The wizard continued to study her covertly from the wing chair in the drawing room. The light caught the taffeta as she moved, and the subtle velvet accents at the neckline made the diamond choker with a teardrop sapphire pendant all the more striking.   The wizard hid a smile; while the choker most definitely belonged to Hermione – it was in the manor when she purchased it – it hadn’t been in the safe in his bedroom. He had acquired it several years ago during a rare expedition into the Muggle world, when he’d come across a quaint jewelry store bearing the name ‘Harry Winston.’ Upon entering the store he had been rather disappointed to discover the proprietor was not on the premises, and had settled for being waited upon by an older Muggle with a suitably deferential air. Despite his general distaste for Muggles and their egalitarian attitudes, this particular individual had treated him with the respect he was due. Over the course of a few hours, Lucius had examined a wide variety of jewels before settling on the choker and pendant. He had no reason for the purchase, other than he liked the necklace. Narcissa wouldn’t have liked it; it wasn’t ostentatious enough for her, and he never been involved with a specific sexual partner long enough to merit a gift of any kind, and certainly not something like the necklace. But he liked the sparkle of the stones, the obsequiousness of the sales person, and the knowledge that he could make the purchase easily with the gold bullion he had on his person.   He had returned to the Manor and stored the necklace in a false book in the library, although he could he left it in open sight; Narcissa never entered the library.    After Hermione had gone to sleep last night, he had spoken with Dobby – begged him, actually – until the house elf agreed to slip it in the safe in Hermione’s dressing room.
Hermione smiled at Lucius, noticing his prolonged gaze. “The dress is beautiful. Thank you.”   She couldn’t help but study Lucius; his hair was loose, and he was dressed in charcoal-grey slacks, an ivory shirt and a deep burgundy and grey vest. A look of casual handsomeness most wizards would give their eye-teeth to be able to achieve, and he did it effortlessly.
“You’re more than welcome. You will be the most beautiful woman at the opera.”
Hermione blushed. “Thanks to you,” she finally managed, still embarrassed by his frank appraisal of her appearance, and the knowledge she had been doing the same to him.
“It’s the least I can do. After all, it is essentially my fault you are going to the opera with Severus.” He smiled engagingly, and Hermione felt her cheeks burn at his good-natured teasing. “Would you like a drink before your undertaking this evening?”
“Yes, please,” she answered gratefully, both for the drink and the change of topic. He went to the sideboard while Hermione slipped into the wingchair opposite the one Lucius had occupied. He returned with her glass, and gave her a courteous nod of his head before sitting back in his own chair.
Hermione has just taken a sip of her scotch when Severus stepped into the drawing room.   In an attempt to be discreet, Hermione glanced at her watch; Severus was eight minutes early. “Oh,” she said, trying to hide her discomfiture. “I didn’t expect you for a few more minutes.”
“Denn die Todten reiten schnell,” Lucius muttered, and Severus scowled fiercely while Hermione stifled a chuckle. Even though he wore an ivory-colored silk shirt under his dress robes, the rest of the flapping black attire did nothing to draw away from the image of a large bat.
Bram Stoker was obviously a wizard, too, Hermione thought, noting both men’s immediate familiarity with the phrase. No great surprise there. But thanks for the mental image, Lucius. Just what I needed before going out on a dark and stormy night.
“So you’re off to see a Wagner opera?” Lucius asked with feigned ignorance.
Severus’ lips pressed together in displeasure before he replied. “Yes. And dinner afterward.” So don’t wait up, was unspoken.
“If Hermione is still awake after five hours of bombastic Norse gods,” the blond replied dryly.
Hermione placed her almost-untouched drink on the sideboard and picked up her purse from her chair. She shot Lucius a quick smile before turning her attention to Severus. “Shall we?”
Severus nodded and stiffly offered Hermione his arm. She took it hesitantly, a momentary sense of panic washing over her. What the hell am I doing? she wondered frantically while allowing herself to be escorted toward the entrance hall.
“Give my regards to the wizarding world,” Lucius called out as the pair was leaving the room.    He watched the light play off the material of Hermione’s dress as she walked out the door. The dress clung tantalizingly to her hips – suggestive but nothing more. He took another swallow of his scotch. He knew the best way for Hermione to get over any lingering interest in Severus was for her to spend time with him, but he still didn’t like it.   Sighing, he left the drawing room and went up to the library, knowing he wouldn’t be able to relax until Hermione was home.
A/N: Yeah, apparently my writing schedule is about a chapter every two years. I did promise a while back that I would finish this story, even if my nephews' and neices' grandkids would be the ones reading it.... I actually have most of the next chapter written, as well, but I'd like to write more before I post it, so I can remain somewhat consistent throughout the story (which is tough when you only write every 2 years...) *grin*
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The Kill Shot