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What If.....?	By : valkyrie136 Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 4463 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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Narcissa.
Hermione's plans were to keep a low profile and avoid others. She reasoned that this was the best way to avoid stirring up anymore trouble for herslelf. Unfortunately, this created a problem for her. Loyalty certainly described her well; she was a Gryffindor after all, which meant that when Luna Lovegood approached her to attend a semi-formal banquet hosted by the Minister of Magic and Minister of Foreign Affairs, she found it impossible to refuse. She agreed without even thinking and immediately after wanted to yank her hair out.
Lucius might be in attendance and the thought of facing him filled her with dread. Her recent efforts to avoid him seemed to be foiled constantly; strange considering she once tried so hard to meet him only to meet with failure. She wondered if her luck decided to arrive too late or if bad luck was arriving too soon.
She had no choice. Hermione dressed that evening, taking care to arrange her hair, but when she reached for her bracelet and realized it was gone, her mood became depressed. Yes she was sentimental but she also felt the bracelet reminded her of her own personal promise to do her best in all things. It was easy to give up but hard to fight on.
This personal promise helped her whenever her mind conjured up the events at the hot spring. Lucius was not going to mention the hot springs so neither was she. It should be that they treated it as it never happened,. For once the extreme rules which Lucius lived by--one being that appearances were everything--worked to her advantage. Maybe she could even find some way to get him back for his cruel words earlier, and for casually discarding her bracelet. It was probably all so very amusing to him, and that made her blood boil because she didn't currently have a plan. But she did have time, and armed with the knowledge that he likely would want to keep any kind of conflict buried, perhaps she might surprise him and knock him down a peg or two. If anyone deserved it, it was him.
These thoughts cheered her up some and so she found her smile was genuine when Luna stopped by before heading over to the banquet. After looking around and not seeing Lucius, she felt more at ease but this feeling did not lost very long because Narcissa was in attendance tonight. With great effort, she remained in her seat and did not walk out. It would draw attention, and she had enough of that in the past few days. But still...
Hermione rarely came in conflict with others. These run ins with Lucius were not to be counted because it felt like a series of unfortunate events. Normally, she might have a disagreement but using sound reason and logic she encountered, some might say, an unreasonable amount of success in persuading others to her side—after all, facts were facts. For this reason, it never bothered her when others taunted her for being too smart for her own good or worse, mocked her for being muggle born. Unless it had a direct impact on her life, like her current issue with the Muggle Protection Agency, she generally concluded that it wasn’t worth her breath to argue with people who weren’t rational.
The real exception to this was when her emotions became involved. Hermione often prided herself on how calm she could be, always taking things in stride, so when her emotions were stirred she felt them so strongly that it clouded her judgment and the intensity of her feelings were both overwhelming and exhausting. Once, when she was younger, her friend Hagrid once told her to pay these things no mind and these words remained with her even now; pay it no mind was something of a mantra. She sometimes wondered if she should get it inscribed on her tomb.
Those words always helped give her the courage to brave whatever nonsense was thrown her way, and to always keep in mind the importance of not letting her emotions rule her—she took pride in maintaining a certain level of dignity and that included, to a certain extent, preserving a certain image. She wouldn’t allow others to make her a laughing stock because she wasn’t just standing up for herself, she knew that others sometimes used her to defend why muggle borns deserved respect, and to be treated with dignity. Hermioine knew she could disarm others with reason and she felt confident in not engaging the unreasonable because it just wasn’t worth it—because in the end it didn’t matter if unreasonable people viewed her as a joke. As long as she did this she could tolerate any disgrace because she had her honor and pride.
In the end, this meant it was hard to offend her. In fact, she considered herself incredibly generous and forgiving; if anybody managed to offend her it was very easy for her to simply let it go. A person had to work hard to get on her bad side. But as she faced Narcissa today, her commitment to these principles—her commitment to general politeness and everyday pleasantries evaporated like smoke and could die for all she cared. This woman from the Black family really wronged her, carving a scar in her heart.
How could she? To understand her pain, one had to go back to nearly two decades earlier.
Hermione had been ignorant at that time. Having found herself transported back in time nearly twenty years, she thought she could find a way home in books because it was proven a formula for her in the past. Fear of messing up the timeline made her desperate, and in her desperation she became reckless, arguing in her mind that the ends justified the means. Hermione expanded her search to private collections hidden in the forbidden section and even going so far as to break into the collections held by faculty. She ignored the risks, reasoning to herself that the risk was worth it, and in doing so accidentally provoked a guardian griffin, and to make matters even worse, she fled, unwittingly unleashing the monster into the school. Lucius Malfoy, then only eighteen, and a prefect had been passing by and saved her.
But Hermione did not know it was Lucius Malfoy, and her heart was swayed by this simple act. She felt terrible because this Hero, as she began to call him, injured himself. Using reason, she concluded it was only right to thank him, and after giving the matter a great deal of thought, compared her current predicament to the time she travelled back in time during her third year with Harry.
Hadn’t everything that they did in the past already happened to them in the present, only they did not know? Would that not be the same here? That said, she couldn’t really be making a mistake because if it didn’t already happen, then wouldn’t that create a paradox? At that time, Hermione’s focus was on justifying her reason for finding, and thanking her Hero so she didn’t know it at the time but she was suffering from a bit of tunnel reason.   There were other ways to impact the timeline, as she would later learn.
After reasoning everything out, she decided to sneak into the infirmary and thank him but he had already recovered and left. The next step was to locate him but all she knew was that she was a Slytherin. Unfortunately, the school houses were even more divided during this time, and she was an outsider, a transfer, meaning people were incredibly unwilling to divulge any sort of information. She felt terrible; in speaking with others she did learn that many believed that her rescuer was responsible for releasing the Griffin simply because he was a Slytherin. Hermione just wanted to make things right, but the road to hell is paved with good intentions—and in her case, a heaping dose of arrogance and stupidity. Even then she was unaware of the fact that she was falling in love with this person; she was only determined to make it all right.
So she decided to keep trying to get near him. Through her investigations she encountered a lot of bullying from other students. Her own house viewed her as a traitor and Slytherins, Ravenclaws, even Hufflepuffs were wont to tease and make things hard for her. She found herself pursuing a lot of false information. The only reason she had not given up was almost out of spite—she had to succeed after experiencing so many headaches.
How many times had she been jinxed, or gotten in trouble with professors for being in areas she was not supposed to be? She lost points for her house, and was quite disliked among the general student body. In retrospect, if she had known the name of the person who helped her, she would never have gone looking for him.
Somewhere in the weeks and days of searching she began to notice a shift in how she thought of this hero. Again, she had been the definition of naive. She had begun to imagine their meeting, and the image of his handsome face, his fair hair, and the way in which he easily assisted her all began to turn into something of an idealization. It wasn’t long before she began to realize that this might be more than a mission of paying him back for his help, this was personal, and she realized one evening while laying in bed and staring up at her ceiling that it might be possible she was infatuated with this stranger. In her mind he had taken on larger than life qualities; he was the only person who seemed to have treated her with kindness since her arrival, had asked nothing in return, and never once revealed that another person was responsible for the monster being unleashed.
He kept his mouth closed, and allowed others to draw their own conclusions from his silence. She thought that for a man, and a Slytherin no less, this was a truly rare and exceptional example that you could never judge someone just by what you saw. She felt that there was a lot more to him, and in her spare time this kind of fantasizing conjured up any number of reasons.
Maybe it was because this her first time experiencing love that she was so very stubborn and determined. Or perhaps it was because she simply didn’t know any better. In the end, no one helped her to find him. She in fact met him one day by chance in the library. He was reading, and Hermione wanted to figure out a way to thank him.
But as she spoke to him, she realized that he had no recollection of who she was. It seemed that although he had carved a deep impression in her heart he could not even remember her being present that night. This immediately disappointed her, and in her desire to somehow strike up a connection, she decided to do something that she never, ever would have done were she not so infatuated: she pretended to be a fool, and worse, she pretended to be from his own house. This was easy to do since he seemed to not know her and in fact much of the student body had difficulty remembering who she was as she tried to avoid standing out when she was not investigating.
Hermione told him that she liked to be called Jane, it was her middle name, and she was a transfer student. She was not doing well in school. None of this was untrue, her middle name was Jane, she was barely passing to avoid attention, and she was listed as a transfer student thanks to the support of Ms. Figg, the only person present whom seemed to be aware of her time travelling (Hermione couldn’t do this all alone). She did feel a little guilty for giving him so much misleading information, and she felt very bad for pretending to be from his own house.
All she ever wanted was to be near him. When she learned through introductions that he was Lucius Malfoy, she accepted this rather gracefully. This was a younger Lucius; naturally he would be different from the adult version. She didn’t try to think about the future she could figure that out later. All that mattered to her was to come to the library, have him tutor her, and bask in whatever smiles came her way. Sure she wasn’t known for her intelligence, yes she wasn’t exactly well liked by others, but she had never felt so completely satisfied.
One morning, after many weeks had passed, she went to the library like normal and was shocked to see Narcissa Black there. This did not sit well with her for many reasons, not just because here was his future wife, but she felt extremely guilty for entertaining romantic feelings for someone who she was being forced to remember would go on to pick another woman.
From faraway she could see she was crying and arguing with Lucius. It felt wrong to interrupt so she hid behind a nearby bookcase, and since she felt guilty listening in, she covered her hands with her ears—it muffled out the words but she could still hear sobbing. Several minutes passed and during that time she only heard Narcissa’s sobs, and the sick feeling in Hermione’s stomach grew. When it all ended, she lowered her hands only to hear Lucius gently say, ‘I promised my father to take care of you—I’ll never abandon you. So why must you be jealous of a silly girl?’ These words caused Hermione to feel like her stomach was twisted in painful knots. She slid to the floor, depressed.
Later, when he left, she crawled out from her hiding spot. Narcissa had remained behind, and when she saw Hermione, she smilingly said to her, ‘You see, you’re nothing but a silly girl, so how can you have him? Isn’t it rather laughable?’
Hermione was hurt but forced herself to remain strong. Lucius might have said something hurtful, and to have heard him say it hurt even more, but it wasn’t far from the truth. She was someone he might occasionally dote on but it was nothing more than the fleeting satisfaction a teacher might have for a student. He did not view her as his equal, but rather a person he was helping, perhaps out of boredom, or pity, but the boundaries were firmly drawn. He didn’t even see her as a friend or seem to hold her in any kind of regard. Seeing this now, she realized pursuing him in this way wasn’t the best approach. She wanted more.
These memories were hammered into Hermione like nails in a coffin; at the time she had been far braver than many her age. Yes she was tossed through time, no she did not know if she would ever go home, but she bravely accepted the situation and even found ways to adapt. But even now, wasn’t she still a baby? After all the hard times and grievances, she became disheartened.
Narcissa won this round of psychological warfare. But this loss did not bother Hermione, in the end what really hurt her was a reminder of the fact that no matter what she did Lucius Malfoy would never like her. Still, she struggled to understand why Narcissa hated her so much, even now. It wasn’t like she was aware that Hermione was the same girl from so many years ago. Hermione had left Hogwarts back then without anyone knowing her real identity. Still, Narcissa came to her that night she left, as it coincided with the beginning of summer vacation, and the end of Lucius’s final year at Hogwarts. Narcissa came to her to proudly display the ring on her finger and explained that her and Lucius were going to be married ‘I’m so happy—we’ve grown up together. You’re a kind girl—are you happy for me as well?’ She smiled slightly, ‘You’re not then? I’m not surprised. You’ve never been.’
Hermione remembered that night as if it had been burned in her. She remembered walking past the lake, the moonlight reflecting on it, and how badly she wanted to drown in it.
Today Narcissa was older but largely unchanged; she laughed and engaged with others and Hermione knew that she would not have changed.
On reflection, Hermione had been incredibly stupid.
All those years ago she saw Narcissa’s insults as a trial, and like the main character in a cheesy romance, she need only persevere and eventually it would somehow work out. After all, she was trying her best and believed that eventually she would make Lucius see her, and move his heart. How stupid. On careful analysis of her behavior, it could only be said that Hermione allowed herself to be bullied and gained nothing for it. Her efforts towards Lucius were ignored and in the end he picked her rival and enemy. But they say tragedy made you strong and having given up on this one sided love, well, there was nothing to lose.
Hermione wanted a little revenge but she also did not want to humiliate herself. There were plenty of important people present. This required careful planning. She ruminated and ruminated for many minutes and even with all her intelligence could not come up with any kind of satisfactory planned. It seemed that this opportunity to avenge herself was going to slip away.
Fortunately, maybe today was her lucky day, because just as she abandoned this idea others were willing to lend a helping hand. And it was Narcissa herself who provided that help.
She casually came closer to where Hermione was sitting with her friend, Luna Lovegood. Luna was here because Harry asked her to attend because he wanted the other important leaders in the magical world to know that he was still pursuing a plan, though he could not say, to combat the dark lord and Tom Riddle. Luna arrived wearing a rather odd dress that seemed to be constructed out of moss, she explained, to protect herself from becoming ill since it was easy to catch lingering grot, though she could not clearly say what that meant.
Narcissa regarded the two of them with undisguised disdain and sneered, ‘I wonder what a lucky day it is to be in the company of such highly esteemed people, but I worry that it might mislead others in thinking that such behavior is appropriate.’ With so many people present, this was a rather bold thing to say.
Hermione was not necessarily skilled in playing tricks on others, she preferred to be more direct, but even she could not overlook the opportunity that was almost handed to her. She turned to Luna, and said in a very gentle, concerned tone that was low enough to show it was meant to be a personal conversation but loud enough for others to still hear, ‘The minister of magic and foreign leaders are present. How can you make these kinds of jokes during serious times.’ She lightly touched the greenery on Luna’s dress, and patted her consolingly, ‘Others might think that we aren’t following the rules, are behaving appropriately. It’s a lot of pressure, I know that the rules are supposed to say that we’re equals but others aren’t so willing to accept; it’s difficult to transition. We have to try harder.’
Hermione was not sure if Luna understood what she was trying to do, but she seemed thoroughly engrossed by this discussion, and in her usual dreamy voice she explained, ‘No one would want to draw attention to the ministry’s inability to properly hold up the law; it isn’t easy. Just think of all the tansies and warks who stand in the way of letting them succeed. It isn’t their faut.’
There conversation was overheard by many, and to the great many present Narcissa seemed to be running afoul of the new polices put in place to promote acceptance. While she was not breaking any actual laws by treating Hermione in such a way, she nevertheless was a representative of the pure blood community and a self-proclaimed diplomat, often working closely with magical persons in power foreign and domestic. It made the ministry seem to be only paying lip service to their goals and not really holding anyone accountable. But it was a delicate situation because she had not broken an actual law. The minister of magic felt his head ache considering all of this.
Hermione knew that the minister of magic was too concerned with appearances to allow this to go. The whisperings following this interaction persuaded him to act. He took a few seconds to gather his thoughts and think of a proper solution. In the meanwhile, off to the side, Lucius watched this play unfold, and beside him was Saul Croaker, an Unspeakable from the Department of Mysteries.
Croaker muttered under his breath, ‘She’s quite good at spewing bitter words, I think she could even compete with you.’
Lucius glanced down at the glass of wine cradled in his hands and gently replied,, ‘I think I’m far more succinct.’
Croaker gave him a sideways glance and didn’t say anything more. The Minister of Affairs was adding fuel to the fire by pulling Narcissa aside and began to give her a scathing set down for her lack of tact—‘Don’t you know you can’t just say whatever you want?’
Narcissa’s face was beat red as she endured this humiliation and Hermione found it very difficult to maintain her innocent and composed demeanor. She wanted to laugh but instead to focus on her hands. Perhaps Narcissa would realize that Hermione was no little kitten but fierce and determined to fight back and protect herself. Still, even she could not have expected fate would deliver her another gift. The minister of magic cleared his throat and called upon Narcissa to be entrusted with a very important task—she would venture out to the borderlands, where the fighting everyone knew was quite out in the open—and advocate for muggle borns openly.
This was an important job since this area was rampant with many wizards and witches who lived in isolation, not having chosen to side with anyone, but it was also an incredibly dangerous job, not something anyone would want, but how could she reject it without further humiliating herself and insulting the minister of magic?
The minister continued to ramble on, ‘Naturally the laws are important and Ms. Granger shows us that it is important that we all do our best to see that they are taken seriously. We’ll investigate the matter further but during that time it would be to everyone’s benefit if you became a missionary of sorts.’
Narcissa’s face slowly drained of all color until it was white. Hermione wondered if it was Christmas. This was beyond what she expected. Everything about this task took Narcissa from everything she loved—luxury being number one. She smiled sunnily and Narcissa looked afraid; the entire room remained silent.
Just as she was celebrating her success, an unhurried, cold voice rang throughout the room, ‘I’ll go in her place.’
Hermione turned to Lucius, who stood across the room, ‘If she must go to battle that is.’ Narcissa looked up. Her pale face gradually took on color and she began to relax.
Leave it to Lucius to rob her of any success, she bitterly thought. Like hell the government would send him away. His protection of Narcissa made him seem like a hero swooping in to protect poor Narcissa, victim of a trap set by the smart and conniving Hermione.
In a cold voice rife with sarcasm, Hermione spoke up, ‘How touching Lord Malfoy’s love is.’ No one said anything. In the entire universe no one but Hermioine dared to gainsay Lucius.
Of course, all this little show did was create more gossip. Hermione picked up her wine glass and after listening to these gossips, began to drink. She drank and drank, and fortunately for her, she was not loud our obnoxious when drinking. She became quiet and moved slowly, and sometimes said muddled things. She also became more friendly and soon everyone who gossiped about her decided that she was in fact a very nice person and the situation earlier was a result of a big misunderstanding.
Luna left, not really liking to socialize, and Hermione continued to drink happily at the banquet, toasting others, toasting herself, all in all it was grand time.
One by one, as people left, they left with the opinion that Ms. Granger was indeed quite a nice person to spend time with. In this Hermione was happy that she was at least successful in changing the general opinion of others.
Unfortunately, Hermione’s plan was never to become so intoxicated. Initially she drank because she was upset, and as she drank it seemed that migth be able to turn the situation around a little. She didn’t realize that the wine was donated by the Malfoy family, and was light, sweet, and very strong. Eventually, it came to pass that she sat by herself, nursing her cup of wine, and the pavilion became silent. Soon she only had the light breeze and swaying tree branches to keep her company.
She was alone.
Hermione rested her head in the palm of her left hand while while holding her cup in the other. She currently struggled with remembering who she was and where she was. It was becoming very difficult to keep her eyes open, but she was certain that something was not quite right.
Why was she here again? Who was she?
Suddenly, she heard foot steps and looked upwards. Standing over her, his head lowered slightly so that he could make eye contact, was a familiar figure. His pale hair reminded her of starlight and his cold grey eyes bore into her own.
‘Why are you still here?’ He asked in a tone bereft of warmth.
Seeing him made her feel warm and fuzzy. She was confused, and forgot about all the time that had passed since she last saw him decades ago. She believed she was still that student by his side, and he was her teacher. This was someone who was her friend, whom she loved, and his handsome face sent little butterflies throught her stomach. This was the person she loved most in the world, Lucius Malfoy, and all she wanted was to be near him.
Staring up at him, a silly grin slowly began to form on her face, ‘Drinking juice.’
He raised one eyebrow and in a tone that would have made most people afraid, cooly replied, ‘That is wine.’
This was lost on Hermione. She instead mirrored his actions, cocked an eyebrow and laughed softly, the sound almost musical in the cool summer night breeze, ‘Are you sure?’ She lowered her gaze to her hands, and her tone changed to sound a little tired, ‘Are you going to go fight some people again?’
Lucius did not normally spend time conversing with intoxicated mudbloods but any fool could see this was a good opportunity to pull out any information regarding the plans that Harry Potter and his companions had. He decided to take the high road and sat down next to her. Resting his face on his palm he began to enact his plan, plying her with a well rehearsed act used time and time again to gain the trust of others. He smiled faintly and allowed his left hand to rest beside her, and relaxed his body. ‘Perhaps you could let me know what Mr. Potter is up to. I want to provide any assistance I can.’
Hermione sighed, and turned to face him completely. Her knee brushed his, and she leaned forward, so close now that her face wasn’t to far from his. She looked crestfallen, upset, as if he had just burned her favorite book, ‘You promised to come back but you didn’t.’
Distracted by her eyes, which seemed to be filled with sorrow, he wondered if she always spoke strange words when she drank, which amused him, ‘I think you have me confused.’ It seemed he would not be getting any information from her. He thought that based on what he knew of her, this level of intoxication was so high that he doubted she knew her own name, or his for that matter.
She looked down and yawned and sleepily replied, ‘I’m really not confused.’
‘Who am I then?’
Hermione smiled at him, ‘Lord Malfoy,’ and then said ‘Lucius.’ It was this use of his first name that caught him off guard, and then made a small smile appear on his face, because no one ever dared to be so informal.
‘You’re drunk, and confused. Isn’t it time to stop?’ That he was engaging her in conversation really didn't matter to him. He continued to talk to her more out of bored curiosity than actual interest.
She said more to herself, ‘Time should stop.’ She looked up at him, angry, ‘I went to look for you, but you were gone.' Unshed tears shined in her eyes and in a rare moment, he felt completely at a loss for words.
'I'm sorry, I really don't know--' Before he finished speaking, she collapsed forward into his arms, asleep.
Lucius turned her around so that her head was tilted back, and he decided that she must always speak nonsense when drinking. His gaze traveled over her complexion, and lingered on her mouth.
He stared at her lips, which quivered slightly. With his free hand, he brushed her hair out of her face and his fingers lingered against her skin which was warm to the touch. Her complexion was flushed, and she seemed nothing like the confidant and bold young woman he met earlier. As he studied her he couldn't help but think that she looked rather enchanting tonught, something he had never thought before, and the moment he realized he thought this, he immediately released her. As if repelled away by a powerful force, she fell to the floor in a groggy, mumbling heap.
Lucius abruptly stood, his back rigid and straight as he strode away, and as he did he called upon a server to deal with her. His fingers tingled where they had lingered against her skin.
None of this mattered, she was merely confused and would not remember this conversation in the morning. Still, she had said something very interesting, she had said ‘time’.
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So, we now know that Hermione went back in time and fell in love with Lucius. But it seems that her efforts to make him fall in love weren't rewarded, and it seems that Lucius didn't hold her in very high regard. He seems to have fallen in love with Narcissa.
What does Lucius really think about Hermione, the current, present Hermione? How come he doesn't seem to notice who she is? The plot thickens....
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What If.....?