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Hungry Thirsty Crazy	By : AndreaLorraine Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 47434 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- 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
- 15
- 16
- 17
Author�s Note:�
Unfortunately, everyone, I go back to school for year 2 of master�s
study in a few days, so things are probably going to slow down.� I�m not sure how heavy my workload will be,
so please bear with me.� Has anyone
noticed that I always end up posting new stuff on Sundays?� It�s completely unintentional�but I guess it
starts your week off right.� Enjoy!

Nitesfool: �Water sports� or
perhaps the more recognized �golden shower� is a way of indicating the fetish
of, er, urinating on one�s partner or being urinated
on.� The real name for it is �urolagnia�.� Whatever
the spell was, Lucius and Hermione won�t be needing it!� Like I
said, it�s just Healer Smythe being (a little too)
thorough.� Glad you enjoyed their first
encounter � and no worries, I haven�t forgotten about SBF.

Lthilwen: There is definitely more
on the way.� I can�t say much about the
future, other than what I�ve already indicated � I�m not writing the story to
depress anyone.� And maybe it�s not so
much about someone or something fixing Lucius as it
is about Lucius fixing himself.

A_naughty_mouse:� Yes, a Ron/Hermione confrontation is in the
works.� You�ll get some satisfaction on
that front.

LaBib: Re: your confusion with
that sentence�.it was from Hermione�s POV, as the vast majority of the story
is.� She was expressing how nice it felt
to have someone really understand her, without having to explain or water down
what she was saying.� Lucius
can keep up with her intellect, subtleties, and transitions, whereas others who
shall remain nameless could not.� As for
the citrus cheesecake, no, I�ve never had it and I�m not sure it exists, but it
sounds damn good, doesn�t it?� It was a
bit odd writing instructions for condoms � one can be so used to them IRL but
to sit and really think about the process and try to put it into words is
unexpectedly strange.� I chose humor over
awkwardness, for the most part.� An Olympic medal?� Ha,
let�s submit that as a new sport for the 2012 Olympics�descriptive verbal
lovemaking.� It would be very popular,
I�m sure.

The Green Fairy:�
Thank you for that high praise!�
Don�t die, though, or you�ll never find out what happens.

Damiana:� Hermione does tend to overanalyze things�yet Lucius is so different from anyone she�s dealt with before
(and dare I say it, so refreshing) that he might just completely overpower her
worry over Ron.� Stay tuned.

Cathartes:� Thank you.�
Crazy author�s impulses like this do require gentle handling and I�m
glad that I�ve managed to pull it off so far.

AlexMalfoy:� There is that kind of man out there, but he�s
usually the wrong kind of man, in my
experience�rats.� No, I don�t keep Lucius hidden in my closet�I don�t even put my clothes in
there, it smells funny (I live in a 100+ year old house so something is bound
to).� Lucius
may have an amusing incident in the future with said rubbers � I just couldn�t
bear to make him wait last chapter.

Muffy:� *gives you one of those handheld fans* Glad
you liked it!

Sapphire:�
Intellectual talk probably has the same effect on Hermione as dirty talk
� she�s been deprived of it so long and Lucius has it
in spades!

Lady_of_Clunn: I wish I could
draw; there are several scenes from this fic that I�d
like to transform into a picture.� Well,
I can draw, but it takes forever and it�s been a long time since I did any
serious artwork.� Any
takers?

Kazfeist: Damn, I always do
that!� For some reason I mix up
rein/reign every time I use it.� Just one
of those things, like that one word you can�t say correctly or the word you can
never remember how to spell.� Another
word is �camouflage� � had to spell check that to make sure it was right.�� Maybe I should stop using words I can�t
spell.� On another note, it would be
awesome if you were related to Feist.� Her music is so fun. ^_^

Ffpoisongirl:� Yeah, I had to write a term paper on A
Farewell to Arms, and I feel just the same � what a MISERABLE ending.� It ruins the entire book.� Any suggestions for Lucius�s next foray into muggle
literature?

LadyVoldemort87:�
Thank you!� It was so easy for me
to picture Hermione chewing Lucius out and him
enjoying it a little too much.

Monkey Lady:� Heh, I guess a smutty death would be a decent death?� I don�t know.�
I�ll offer oxygen masks for the next lemon to make sure I don�t lose
anybody.

Jesse:� Thanks.� My muse has been known to churn things out in
fits and starts, so I�m never quite sure how much time will elapse between
chapters.

Caughtinblacksgreyeyes: Haha!� I do enjoy the
pink backdrop as well.

Meankitty69:� Eek,
sorry about the dry cleaning � I�m sure it was worth it, though. ^_~

Ashmo21: This is definitely going to help Lucius feel more worthwhile and less morose.� What Hermione�s given him really is priceless
and he knows it.

Bluezauza: Thank you for the rec!� I just found
TNL lately and it�s a great idea.� There
are so many fanfics that some of the better authors
and less common pairings seem to slip through the cracks.� For
those who haven�t heard of it, The New Library is a community on LJ focused on
spreading the word about new or underappreciated authors in HP fandom.� Bluezauza is a reccer there and if she recs me, then you know she and the other reccers know what they�re talking about.� Hehe, did that
sound too conceited?� Thanks as always
for the support.

Heidi191976: Thanks, here�s the next chapter, signed, sealed
and delivered.

NutsAboutHarry:� Yes, I�m a chick.� Cheep cheep!� There will be some more about how Lucius contracted HIV later, I won�t leave you
hanging.� As for the smut, the first time
needed to be more like lovemaking because their desire for one another isn�t
purely physical.� Their union truly has
meaning to it, which doesn�t escape either of them, nor you lovely readers.

Mara:� Sorry I�ve kept
you awake.� Hopefully it�s worth it.� Lumione isn�t the
most popular or conventional pair so I�m always glad when I can convert another
reader.� I�ll try to answer all your
questions eventually�

Shiv:� �thinky thoughts
and all sorts of marvellousness� I love that
phrase.� Yeah, these two characters are
far too intelligent for cookie cutter anything (except cookies).

<>

She didn�t think she dreamed.� However, she did think she might be dreaming
when she woke to a gentle kiss on the lips.�
Hermione blinked fuzzily, unraveling herself from sleep�s grasp, and then
attempted to focus.

She hadn�t thought about the �morning
after�.� Apprehension filled her; what were they now?� How were they supposed to behave?� Would he address what had taken place last
night or not mention it at all?� And
which was really the more appetizing choice?

Lucius
was leaning over her, bent at the waist with both palms on the mattress.� He was fully dressed and his hair wet but
orderly on his shoulders.� In her anxious
morning daze, she was struck by how attractive he was.� Especially when his eyes were unfettered;
there was an ease to him, a masculine grace.

He leaned down and touched his lips
to hers for a brief, seductive second.�
Hermione lifted her chin into it, but just as she did, he retreated a
little.� With a slight smirk, he said, �May
I have my manuscript?�

�Feeling inspired?� she smirked
right back.� If he was going to play it
this way, she had no trouble going along with it.

�You could say that.�

�I�ll have your promise that you
won�t burn, tear, sacrifice, or otherwise mutilate it first,� Hermione said
stubbornly.

His nose wrinkled in distaste.� It was petulant and sort of cute, if such a
word could be applied to him.� It lent
him the air of a spoiled child.�

�I�promise,� he relented.

�I�ll strangle you with a daisy
chain of condoms if you go back on it.�

Lucius
laughed.� �You are delightful in the
morning.��

�I mean it, Malfoy.�

He nodded.� Then his smile faltered.� �Well, you�d best hurry.� One never knows how long inspiration will
stay around.�

Hermione looked into his face and
tried to decipher the Byzantine layers of his statement.� It could be taken so many ways.� His mind wasn�t giving her any clues; she
thought she could detect a slight sadness in his eyes, though, in the way he
stared back more directly than he ever would have before.

Impulsively, she rose up and closed
the distance between them.� She kissed
him.� He kissed back without hesitation,
not seeming to care about her morning breath or her disheveled state.� His lips were so soft and truthfully, he
tasted good enough for the both of them.�
Tea and lemon and man��

They floated apart after a long,
languid minute.

I
don�t think your inspiration is going anywhere, Hermione said, half
entranced.

He smiled faintly.� Ah, but
muses are capricious things, aren�t they?�
His fingers drifted across her lips.

Before she could formulate a
response, he levered himself up and reached for her wand.� It didn�t escape her notice that it no longer
gave off angry red sparks at his touch.�
She was so caught up in pondering what that meant that she forgot she
was trying to have the last word.

The opportunity had passed by the
time he handed it to her.� Hermione
capitulated gracefully and proceeded to summon the vanished manuscript.� She had completely forgotten that she had
shoved it in one of her shopping bags.

Lucius
raised an eyebrow as he extracted a blue and white patterned dress.� He held it up and examined it.

�Well, at least I know my money is
being well-spent,� he said, the trademark smirk appearing again.� Just like that, his good humor was restored.

�I have to spend it or else I�ll be
leaving a trail,� Hermione said sourly.�
�I was serious, remove that damn charm from my
handbag!�

�Why should I, if you keep buying
scintillating garments?� I would say I�m
reaping the benefits.�

Hermione sighed and fingered the
soft fabric of the dress, not bothering to respond to the very Slytherin nature of his previous statement.� �I�ll never wear them back in England.�

�Why?�

�They�re not really appropriate for
work.�

�Just put a robe or a sweater on
top if you�re worried about modesty,� he shrugged.� �You work in a muggle-delegated
department, so no one should take issue with you wearing a muggle
garment.� Don�t others do the same?�

�A few.� It�s not that.� It�s�well, I�d stick out like a sore thumb,
and��

And
you don�t like being noticed?

Her eyes snapped up to him.� He�d hit it so precisely on the head.� It was kind of strange that someone like him,
a man who made a life of being noticed, was so perceptive of those who embraced
the opposite.

�I suppose I don�t,� she admitted
warily.

He sat on the edge of the bed, his
eyes drifting over her.� Until that moment
she had forgotten that she was nude.�
Self-consciousness bloomed uneasily within, but the Gryffindor in her defiantly
squelched any desire to cover up.

�I suspect,� he murmured, �you are
fighting a losing battle with that.�

She made a face at him that clearly
indicated that he was crazy.

�Give me one good reason that you
shouldn�t be noticed by anyone and everyone,� he challenged.

She opened her mouth, only to find
that she didn�t have a ready response.�
He let her think, watching her with cunning eyes.

�Well, I guess�well, I�ve never
exactly been the prettiest girl in the bunch, and I don�t want people to just
see me as a pair of breasts.�

�You want them to recognize you for
your mind?� he said wryly.� �I think you
have it backwards.� I think they only recognize you for your mind.� What you really want is for them to see you
as a beautiful, powerful woman in addition to an intellectual.�

�Don�t tell me what I want,� she
pouted, peeved that he could understand her where she couldn�t fathom herself.

�Heavens, no, I wouldn�t dream of
such a thing.�� He set the dress down and
extracted the bundle of parchment from the bag.�
She thought he was going to get up and leave, but at the last moment he
surprised her by swinging his legs up onto the bed and rolling close to
her.� He lay on his side, contemplating
her with his head resting on his palm.� �Since
I have no idea what you secretly want, then I shan�t tell you how beautiful you
are, and I certainly won�t talk about how I had to address a rather stiff
problem in the bath this morning just from the thought of you naked and asleep
in my bed.�

That made it abundantly clear how
they were going to behave from here on out � like lovers.� Hermione felt her entire body flush and
cursed her overactive blood vessels.� She
was embarrassed, not because of what he said, but because of how accurately he�d
pegged what she wanted and needed to hear.�
She wasn�t that girl; she didn�t need a man to tell her she was
desirable.

No,
you don�t need it, but that doesn�t mean it�s wrong to want to hear it.

This,
from a man who can�t accept praise, she retorted.

�Just because I can�t take it
doesn�t mean I can�t give it,� he replied smugly.� �I am rather good with words, in case you
didn�t know.�

Hermione had to laugh.� She placed her hand on his chest and
pushed.� Her strength was pitiful; he
barely budged.�

�Go write, you insufferable man.�

And this time he did get up,
leaving her to ponder it all.�

Hermione emerged from her bathroom
some time later, bathed and refreshed and dressed in the blue and white dress
that had been inadvertently imprisoned with his manuscript.� When she slipped it on she thought about what
he�d said earlier.� She wasn�t ready to
admit that he was right, but she also wasn�t above torturing him for his
perceptiveness.� She remembered now why
she�d bought this dress; it hugged her in all the right places.� The only thing that would feel better than
wearing it was having someone peel it off.

She was sure she�d get to that
later.� Smiling to herself, she walked
into the common area.� She had missed the
sight of him at the desk lost in concentration.�
However, that wasn�t the sight that met her.

Lucius
was sitting on the couch.� He wasn�t
alone; Crookshanks was sprawled on the cushion next
to him.� The cat was on his back,
wiggling around and pawing at a quill that Lucius
dangled above him.� Hermione
blinked.� Lucius
Malfoy was playing with her cat.�

That was interesting, indeed; Crookshanks had never had much affinity for Ron and Ron had
even less for Crookshanks.� She knew it mostly stemmed from their
conflict third year about Scabbers, ne Peter Pettigrew.�
It was funny how they would probably all have been better off if Crookshanks had just caught the bloody rat and eaten
him.� Hermione shook her head in
wonder.� Near as she could remember, Lucius was the only man she�d ever been involved with that
Crooks seemed to like.� As she watched,
her cat caught the quill with his claws and tore at the feathers.

�He�ll destroy that if you let
him,� she spoke up, leaning against the doorframe.�

�That�s fine,� Lucius
responded.� He surrendered the quill and Crookshanks proceeded to do what cats did; he spastically
squirmed around and shredded the feather into pieces.� At Hermione�s quizzical look, he said, �I
brought a half dozen quills.� I tend to�snap them in half when I�m
frustrated.�

A lazy smile spread across her
lips.� She remembered the time he�d more
or less abducted her and brought her to that cabin, wherever it was; there had
been a quill bent in half on the desk.�
�I noticed.�

�As entertaining as your cat�what�s
his name again?�

�Crookshanks.�

�As entertaining as Crookshanks can be, he isn�t my first choice of activity.�

She sat down on the other end of the
couch, tickling Crookshanks� stomach.� �What do you mean?�

�I have a surplus of quills, but I
ran out of ink.� And I can�t find my good
inkpot, for that matter.�

Hermione froze.� Oh, shit.�
She vividly remembered throwing his inkpot against the wall when the
stress of his disappearance overwhelmed her.�
�Erm, well, I may or may not have�broken it.�

Lucius
winced.� �That was a family heirloom.�

�Oh,� Hermione moaned, her hand
rising to her lips, �I�m sorry!�

�It�s all right,� he said
resignedly.� �It wasn�t really worth
anything and I had no major attachment to it.�
Though, it was charmed to refill itself so that it never ran out.� That�s why I only brought one small backup.� We used up all that ink in our respective
letters yesterday and in the nine pages I just wrote.�

She knew she�d had a good reason
for breaking the inkpot.� Still, she felt
a twinge of guilt over thoughtlessly destroying it.� Who kept an inkpot as an heirloom?� She shook her head; purebloods were so
strange.

�So no more writing?� she sighed.� She wondered what that was like for a writer,
feeling the words swirling in one�s brain but having no physical outlet for
them.� �I hope you don�t lose your
inspiration.�

�Didn�t someone just tell me that
wouldn�t be happening?�

�Well, I meant--� Hermione trailed
off with a squeak.� He was leaning over
in that way of his, pinning her to the couch. �Crookshanks leapt
off the furniture with an affronted meow to avoid being sandwiched between
them.

�Maybe I need a reminder,� Lucius murmured, already kissing her neck.

Hermione gasped, both at the speed
of his approach and the sensation of his lips against her pulse.� He wasted no time in the switch from normal
to amorous; or, she thought sardonically, he just didn�t give her any time to
object.� But why would she want to?

Why
indeed?� His voice threaded sinuously
through her mind.� His hands seemed to
follow, trailing over her body.� Though
his touch lit her up with desire (even through the barrier of the dress), her
mind struggled to catch up.

Lucius, it�s ten in the morning, I haven�t even eaten breakfast!

�Sex now,� he breathed into her
ear.� �Food later.�

�Oh yes,� she grumbled, squirming,
�you have such a way with words.�

The hot tip of his tongue trailed
along her jaw.� �Actions speak louder
than words.�� He bit her chin gently,
just enough for her to feel the edges of his teeth.� �And other assorted platitudes��

She had to admit, even tired
platitudes sounded beguiling in his voice.�
Her opinion might have been biased, though.� Damn those hands of his. �His touch put such a big dent in her resolve.

�Lucius,�
she said, trying to keep her voice level and the grin off her face, �as your
muse, I demand that you go write.�

�Do you now?�� She felt the tickle of movement against her
neck as his lips rose and pulled back from his teeth in a wide smile.� �Well, I mustn�t displease my muse.�

She thought that meant he was going
to get off her and retreat to his desk � he was a resourceful man, he could
figure something out � but that wasn�t what happened.� Once again her outfit was on his side; it was
a wrap dress and all he had to do to access more of her skin was untie the bow
that held the two sides together.� He did
that with a flick of his wrist.� Perhaps
she�d have to invest his money into something more secure; a dress with 27
petticoats and a corset, perhaps.� No,
that would probably make him all the more determined.

�What are you doing?�� Hermione tried not to react to the gentle
pressure of his fingers on her stomach.�
At least this time she was wearing a bra.� If his hands found her breasts she�d be lost.

�Writing,� he said with every ounce
of faux innocence he possessed.

And he was; Hermione felt that
there was a pattern to the movement of his index finger.� It looped in his neat cursive, tickling
across her skin.� She couldn�t quite make
out what he was spelling at first.� Then,
when she had adjusted to his infernally light touch, she began to pick out
letters.

�omniamutanturnosetmutamurinillis�

�Is that Latin?� she breathed,
unsure where the spaces belonged because he hadn�t paused.

�Yes.� �Omnia
mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis�.�

�All things change��

�And we change with them,� he
finished softly.� His hand moved again,
this time tracing shapes on her chest.�
These weren�t letters, though.

�Are you writing runes on me?� she
asked with mild alarm.

�Possibly.�� Again, that convincing yet
entirely transparent tone of innocence.

�What are you--�

At that moment, Jo-Jo appeared, apparating in with a
bang.� The elf looked panicked for a
moment, having interrupted another interlude.�
Then she sighed and covered her large violet eyes.� In her wrinkly little hand there was a new
pot of ink.� She held it up with
long-suffering patience.

Lucius
chuckled.� �You can leave it on the desk,
Jo-Jo.� Thank you.�

The elf was only too happy to place
the ink on the desk and scurry away.�
Hermione was still stuck on the fact that Lucius
had been tracing runes on her.� He was no
fool; he certainly knew that some combinations of runes had very specific
meanings, and more importantly, held a very old kind of magic.� What the hell had he written on her?

He leaned over and kissed the plane
of her chest, where he�d drawn four little symbols.� However, he didn�t speak the spell to
activate the runes.� Hermione relaxed
slightly.� As he planted little kisses up
her chest and neck and finally to her lips, his hands refastened her
dress.� It felt very strange indeed to
have him redressing her while he
kissed her so scorchingly that her body was convinced
he was doing the opposite.

His tongue withdrew slowly,
lingering across her lips.� It was
amazing how quiet he went, verbally and mentally, when he kissed her.� The only sound was his breath and the soft
brush of his hands moving over the jersey of the dress.� She listened to the hush, absorbed the tickle
of his breath and the warm touch of his mouth, and something in her melted.

He probably intended to get
up.� He was going to actually go
write.� But the tenderness of his hands
and his worshipful lips made her pull him back down.� Lucius didn�t
fight; he sank upon her, seeming to know how much she liked his weight
compressing her.

They kissed for some time, Lucius draped over her, her legs circled around him.� She was dimly aware of Jo-Jo entering, doing
something, and exiting again.� The poor elf.� It made
her wonder if house elves were always
subjected to their masters� intimate activities.

Stop
thinking about elves, he purred.

Hermione ducked her head,
embarrassed that she�d been caught.� Of
course it was a little unfair that he could hear her thoughts.� How was he so adept at shielding his?� Or could he really be that blank?

You
forget, Hermione, that men are rather single-minded when they have a pretty
witch beneath them.

Then
shouldn�t I hear �sex sex sex!�? she shot back playfully.

If
I was thinking that, you certainly would.

Then
what are you thinking?

There was a slight pause.

Nothing.� I�m thinking nothing.� I�m just�feeling.� He kissed the corner of her mouth.� You
should try it sometime.

Now.� I�ll try it now.

�But it�s ten in the morning,� he
whispered evilly.� �You haven�t eaten
breakfast yet.� And you commanded me to
write.�

�You enjoy being a bastard, don�t
you?�

�Almost as much
as I enjoy being insulted by you.��

�Well,� she said, folding her arms
over her chest, �I�ll enjoy getting you back later.��

�I look forward to it,� he
smirked.� Then he carefully rose, leaving
her in minor disarray on the couch.

Hermione had to find something to
do.� His flirtation and kissing and his
damned existence had worked her into
a state of flustered restlessness.� She
was half tempted to march into the living room and tell him it was now half
past eleven, she�d eaten breakfast, and she was exercising her right to be
capricious in demanding that he stop writing.�
She had actually peered into the room on the verge of doing just
that.� However, he was so absorbed, his
quill moving so quickly and consistently that she just couldn�t interrupt him.

She had tried to occupy herself
with a book for a while.� However, her
thoughts always strayed, unable to remain on the story.� The day felt almost unreal.� They had slept together last night.� They�d had sex, made love, whatever one
wanted to call it.� And it had been
bloody fantastic.

Now, here they were today, behaving
as though that was nothing out of the ordinary.�
Flirting and talking and interacting like this was some normal
relationship, like last night had been a perfectly natural progression.� It just couldn�t
be normal, though, could it?� Everything
that they were should have stacked up like a pile of boulders between
them.� He was Lucius
Malfoy: pureblood aristocrat, frighteningly
attractive, past naysayer of muggles and muggleborns, former Death Eater, Slytherin,
man old enough to be her father, practitioner of dark arts, and most
disconcertingly, HIV positive.� She was
Hermione Granger: muggleborn, Gryffindor, plain,
preacher of equality, best friend of the man who had vanquished the Dark Lord,
believer in light, and much too young for him.�
Could they really pretend that it wasn�t completely backwards?� More importantly, could they really pretend
that they weren�t who they were, with the unsavory past they shared, and that
there was�a future for this?

Hermione sighed.� She knew those things weren�t particularly
effective in stopping anybody from having a relationship.� She had a sinking feeling that she was
entering one � an unacknowledged, unlikely, and wholly consuming relationship. �And it didn�t feel all that wrong, per se.� Interacting with him like earlier felt
natural.� Easy.� Right.� And the date last night, sweet Merlin�it was
her dream date.� Good food, good conversation,
someone who was pleasing to look at and great in bed�Hermione bit her lip.� Until now, �good�, �pleasing�, and �great�
were adjectives she hesitated to apply to him for anything other than his
writing ability.� She wound her fingers
in her hair, pulling slightly at the roots.�
She was so bloody confused!�

Ah.�
But he wasn�t entirely devoid of bad behavior, was he?� The runes he�d traced on her were proof.� Maybe now that he was distracted, she could
figure out what they meant.� Yes, that
would keep her busy for some time.� She
had done well in Ancient Runes class but it had been a while since she used
that knowledge.� A refresher was
necessary.� Nodding to
herself, Hermione apparated back to her flat.

First she had to find and relearn
the spell to reveal runes.� Once drawn,
they were often invisible unless activated by magic � which he hadn�t
done.� However, even if they weren�t
activated, they remained unless a spell was done to erase them.� He hadn�t erased the runes, either.

Blowing out an apprehensive breath,
Hermione lifted her wand.� She was
standing in front of her dresser, the Ancient Runes
textbook open in front of her and her reflection staring nervously back from
the mirror.� Here went nothing.

�Ostendo sum typicus,� she enunciated, flicking
her wand at her chest.� There was a brief
shimmer and then the symbols appeared, rising to the surface of her skin like
ink bleeding through paper.� There they
were; four neat runes, even and perfectly spaced.� She carefully copied them onto the paper in
front of her.

It hadn�t been so long since she
finished school, but she was drawing a complete blank on all of them.� She was glad no
one was around to witness this.� Ancient
runes certainly weren�t the be all and end all of her intelligence quotient,
but it was embarrassing to forget what she�d once been fairly good at.

Sighing, she reached down to the
book and flipped to the chapters that detailed the many runic alphabets.� It seemed that he had used the easiest, plain
Anglo-Saxon.� Many of the others were too
esoteric to be of any use.� Though, she
smiled, it might have been perversely appropriate if he had used Etruscan,
being that they were in Tuscany.

Runes were a difficult
subject.� That was why few people
bothered taking the class; usually it was full of Ravenclaws
and a Slytherin here or there, as evidenced by Lucius and the fact that Sinistra
taught it.� It was coming back to
Hermione bit by bit as she skimmed the pages.

She would do a literal translation
and find out what letter each rune represented.�
Though this rune alphabet was originally Anglo-Saxon, scholars had found
a long time ago that it translated well into English.� One only had to make sure that they checked
that what they spelled out didn�t mean something else in the original language
that could be problematic.� The book contained
several examples of this.� It was mildly
entertaining that �STINKY POO� spelled out in Anglo-Saxon runes was a horrible
death curse.� The only one better than
that was �BANANA� in Scandinavian; it detailed a wish to violently remove a man�s
genitals and send them to the underworld.�
Hermione sometimes wondered how those scholars had figured all this out;
she hoped it wasn�t through trial and error.

A smile graced her lips as Hermione
searched diligently for the first rune.� Ah,
there it was.� It was the letter M.� That shed some light on his scribblings.�
Hermione suspected he had just written �muse� on her.� She would have to check and make sure that it
didn�t have any negative definitions in Anglo-Saxon.

But the next symbol blew that
theory out of the water.� It was �Isa�, the letter I.�
Frowning, Hermione flipped through the pages with a bit more
urgency.� There was the third symbol, �Nied�, equivalent to N.�
The pompous ass, had he really�?

Yes.� The last one was E.� M-I-N-E.� Mine.

She blinked at herself in the
mirror, stunned.� That was bold of him,
wasn�t it?� Thank goodness he hadn�t
activated it.� Merlin only knew what it
would do.� Shaking her head, she flipped
back to see what each symbol meant.� Only
then could she see the real meaning and power of the combination of runes,
regardless of what the actual word �mine� inferred.

None of them were merkstave, or reversed.�
That was a relief, at least; it meant that there was no dark meaning in
any of the symbols.� �MINE� wasn�t on the
list of poor translations, either, so Lucius wasn�t unintentionally
cursing her to a life of incontinence or any such nonsense.� Hermione picked up a pencil and began to
write on the scratch paper she�d brought, reasoning out the runes� magic.

When she was finished, she exhaled
tremulously.� She didn�t know if Lucius had really been thinking about what he wrote, but
the combination was eerily fortuitous.�
It roughly read: �Accept human aid in this challenge.� Seek clarity.�
Initiate change, overcome obstacles with the will to endure and
survive.� Move towards trust, harmony,
and partnership.�

Hermione stood there for a long
time.� It was perfect.� Only, it didn�t
need to be written on her - it needed to be written on him.� Hermione tapped her fingers, her mind too
full and too chaotic.� At last she pulled
out a clean sheet of paper and proceeded to write a very long letter to
Professor Sinistra.

It took a little while for her to
respond, but Sinistra�s letter was satisfying.� Hermione had always liked her in spite of her
quiet aloofness; she was one of the only Slytherins
who never once remarked upon Hermione�s muggle
ancestry.� She was sure the woman didn�t
care.� Anyone who showed an aptitude for
runes was worthwhile in her book.� Her
letter confirmed that.

Dear
Hermione,

It
is wonderful to hear from you.� Not
surprisingly, most of my students go on to never use runes again, unless they
become archaeologists.�
Minerva informs me that you are working for the Department of Muggle Affairs at the Ministry so that hasn�t been your
path, which makes it all the more delightful for me to receive a rune-related
letter from you.

You
have correctly reasoned out the meaning of this combination of runes.� It is as you say, and it happens to be a very
potent combination, as well.� The use of Eoh at the end strengthens all the other runes; it locks in
their meaning.� I have heard of MINE
being used before, especially to mend strained relationships or provide support
for loved ones going through difficult times.�
In English, MINE is a rather possessive term, which might seem
off-putting.� However, in Anglo-Saxon it
is quite different.� It conveys a more
universal and selfless kind of affection.�
To write it upon another isn�t to possess them.� Rather, it is to unite with them, to make
their struggles and triumphs your own.

I
see no reason why you can�t use it.�
Though its sentiment is high its actual magical content is low; it
relies on the initiator and the receiver to fulfill it.� Runes are quite clever as I�m certain you
know.� If the rune were to force change,
it wouldn�t be change at all.� More than
anything else, MINE is a bond which provides mental and emotional fortitude to
those who use it.

I
will confess that I�m terribly curious as to who you will use it on and
why.� Minerva tells me you are dating
Ronald Weasley.�
I recall our conversations about Divination and I know that you are not
a great supporter of those arts, but Hermione, your path with Ronald is
destined to be a rocky one.� Even the
runes say so.

There
is no real consequence if the runes go unfulfilled, because the failure of that
unity is consequence enough.� Should the relationship
falter, the runes will simply fade away.�
If you wish to reverse the runes and return this person�s burdens to
them, you need only use merkstave of YOURS.� It isn�t harmful but it does sever a
relationship more completely than mere words can.

�Sometimes runes are so complicated and
sometimes so simple, it quite boggles the mind.�
I wish you good luck.

Yours,

Eleni Sinistra

P.S. � I feel no shame
whatsoever in saying that your letter has made my day.

P.P.S. � I feel only
the slightest bit of shame in requesting that you let me know how things go.

�� Hermione
smiled.� She was sure McGonagall was less
subtle in her rampant curiosity and had probably forced Sinistra
to put that last bit in.� Unfortunately,
she couldn�t really fulfill their desire for more information.� If either of them knew she was thinking of
applying the runes to Lucius Malfoy�with
whom she had not only found some odd sort of bond already, but slept with� she shook her head.� Sinistra had it
right � it boggled the mind.

�� Regardless,
the letter sealed it.� Tonight, when she
set out to pay Lucius back for his teasing (not to
mention his continued, though somewhat less terrifying presumption), she was
going to do it.� She grinned, reconciled
with her decision and its many layers of meaning.

Lucius Malfoy, she thought, tonight I make you MINE.�

<>

Ostendo sum typicus = show/reveal
symbols

All rune info was acquired at http://www.sunnyway.com/runes .� Am I an expert?� Definitely not, so don�t
take what I say on the matter as any kind of authority.� Funny story, though � right after I
researched the runes for this chapter, I went to a concert and there was a guy
wearing a t-shirt with Anglo-Saxon runes on it � and I could read it!� I was very entertained.� My friends just thought I was weird.� Not that unusual of an occurrence, hehe.

So, how is Lucius going to react
to a taste of his own audacious medicine?�
We shall see.�
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