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Interrogation	By : Dazzlious Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 8086 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from J K Rowling's fantastic books or films, I'm just borrowing and playing with them for a little while and get no monetary reward for doing so.

Chapter List
- 4
- 5
A/N: As always thank you to Mamacita for sorting out my punctuation and the other gobbledegook. You’re the best!
angeles, abbeysmum and kittycat30 – thank you so much for reviewing and I’m really glad you’re enjoying it. And kittycat30, you’re absolutely right — Draco really is a brat!
Huge apologies for the delay in posting this chapter of the story, but I’ve been ill recently and not felt up to getting involved with writing or editing. I really hope you enjoy this final part of the story. Dx

‘Draco, what’s going on?’ Hermione asked him when they were back in the office.
She was confused. She had thought Draco wanted to help his father, but it was clear now that this wasn’t the case. Without responding, Draco grabbed her arm and pulled her into one of the interrogation rooms, slamming the door shut behind them so they were alone and couldn’t be overheard. He turned to face her, his expression livid.
‘Why did you do it? Don’t you want your father to go free?’ Hermione asked him.
‘Go free?’ Draco’s lip curled in a sneer. ‘Why would I want that? Why would I want him free to pursue you?’ he asked angrily.
‘But I don’t understand. Why did you get me to take his statement, then? You could have just left him in that place until the Wizangamot decided his fate. I mean, they’d never have considered him innocent without his testimony.’
Draco laughed bitterly. ‘That was supposed to be my great revenge on him, sending you to do the interrogation. I knew all about his obsession with you; I’ve had to live with it for years. Imagine how upset the old man would have been when he saw that you were completely horrified at the idea of having to do anything sexual with him. But you fucked it up completely. Why did you fucking sleep with him? You hated him. You’ve ruined everything, you stupid bitch!’
Hermione frowned as she thought back to the interrogation. She had given Lucius an incentive to talk, but nothing that she hadn’t agreed on with Draco earlier. It shouldn’t have been a problem. And what was this about an obsession?
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Draco. I only did as you told me I might have to do.’
‘But you weren’t supposed to,’ Draco said his face strained with anger. ‘You were supposed to be disgusted at the idea of having to fuck him and tell him to get lost.’
‘But why? I don’t understand,’ Hermione said in confusion.
Draco sighed. ‘I can’t believe you don’t know,’ he said coldly. Seeing her continuing look of confusion, he continued, ‘My father’s been after you for years. He’s been bloody obsessed. When he came back from Azkaban he used to dream about you. I’d hear him calling out your name in his sleep. He became a bloody liability. When the Dark Lord moved into our house I used to have to put a silencing charm on his room so he didn’t give himself away. Crying out like some lovesick pup over a bloody Mudblood — he could have got us all killed.’ He looked disgusted.
Hermione stared at Draco in shock. She’d had no idea Lucius had been interested in her before the interrogation. It certainly explained his lack of reluctance to negotiate. She had assumed he was just using it as a tool to get free, merely covering up his hatred of her.
‘But that’s rubbish, Draco. He tried to kill me at the Ministry of Magic.’
‘Shame he didn’t bloody succeed, then.’ Draco scowled, then when he saw Hermione’s hurt look he added grumpily, ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean that. But you don’t have any idea how I felt knowing my dad fancied you. That he was looking at someone who was the same age as me in terms of being a lover. It was disgusting. I should have been the one with you, not him.’
Hermione was still confused but was rapidly gaining an understanding. ‘So you sent me to get the confession, expecting me to reject any ideas your dad had for incentives?’
‘Yes. But you didn’t? Why didn’t you?’
‘I don’t know,’ Hermione admitted. ‘I mean, I knew he hated me, but . . . you know, I really don’t know.’
And she really didn’t. The reasoning behind the incentives was a complete blank. Yet again it was as if the episode had been no more than a dream.
‘Did he tell you the truth?’ Draco asked suddenly.
‘How should I know? You heard the confession. What do you think?’
‘That’s not a proper confession,’ Draco sneered. ‘That was a bit of crap designed to get him off the charges. Anyone with half a brain knows that. But I was sure he’d told you the truth.’ He looked at her musingly. ‘How the hell did you beat the Verituserum?’
‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,’ Hermione said tensely. ‘I told the court everything that happened. Lucius and I only spoke a couple of times outside of the confession. At the beginning, when I told him about you and your mum, and once when I offered to take him a book. That was it. We had no contact other than that, apart from vague pleasantries when I took in his meals.’
‘I don’t believe it,’ Draco said. ‘And I still can’t believe you fucked him!’
‘Sorry, but you shouldn’t have told me I might have to, then, should you?’ Hermione said angrily. All this was because Draco was jealous of his father, and she’d had enough. She had never fancied him and that wasn’t going to change any time soon.
‘Anyway, how was I supposed to know you fancied me?’ she asked coldly. ‘Calling me a Mudblood constantly for seven years definitely wasn’t a hint.’
‘I was the Prince of Slytherin,’ he replied stiffly. ‘I was expected to act a certain way in public. You never gave me the chance to get to know you in private. If you had you would have known how I felt about you.’
‘Funny, that,’ Hermione retorted sharply. ‘I wonder why I didn’t want to be somewhere private with you, Draco. Maybe because you were always on the verge of hexing me.’
‘But in private I wouldn’t have been like that. I tried so hard to get you alone, but I never managed it.’
‘Well, it’s a moot point. You and I aren’t suited, Draco. No, really we’re not. I don’t know what you think we’ve got, but I assure you we haven’t.’
Draco scowled. ‘You’re in love with my father, aren’t you?’ he said bitterly.
‘No, of course I’m not,’ Hermione said. ‘Your father was just a job. That’s over now, and I’d rather have nothing more to do with either of you.’
Draco scowled again. Hermione sighed.
‘Look, Draco, we have to work together so let’s be friends, eh? But I’m sorry, it’s just not going anywhere else. It’s the same as with Ron and Harry.’
He grimaced at the mention of her two best friends and said, ‘I was really hoping . . . .’
‘Please don’t.’ Hermione pleaded. ‘I’m sorry, I’m just not interested.’
She opened the door to the room they had been in and left, rushing to grab her bag before heading for the toilets. She needed to be away from Draco and forget all about Lucius Malfoy. His trial was over for her now and she really didn’t care one way or another what happened to the man.

Hermione bolted upright, opening her eyes and looking around her. She rubbed her eyes and looked at the clock — six-seventeen a.m. She groaned and lay back down; too late to go back to sleep, the alarm would be going off in just over five minutes anyway.
She ran her hands through her hair. She had been woken by her dreams again, just as she had been every night since she had given her testimony at Lucius Malfoy’s inquiry. Always the same dream — she and Lucius making love, clearly both enjoying it immensely — but she always woke with a vague sense of loss just before they climaxed.
She knew she had made love to Lucius during their time together, but the whole episode seemed somewhat dimmed as if it had been something she had witnessed rather than taken part in. Anyway, it had just been part of the job and now she was working on other things. She no longer had to worry about Lucius Malfoy.
Not surprisingly, his pull with the Ministry had enabled him to be released without charge, her own testimony apparently helping. After all, how likely was it that a Death Eater would want to have sex with a Muggle-born?
She couldn’t help but wonder about the dreams, though. They were far more erotic than anything she remembered with Lucius, and they didn’t change. And curiously, she and Lucius appeared to be very much in love. She could feel it coming from him in waves and knew she returned the feeling, but they had never got that close in real life.
After he had been acquitted Lucius had come to see her and had invited her to tea at Malfoy Manor to thank her for her help. She had turned him down flat. After all, she had only been doing her job; there was no need to continue her relationship with him now he was free. They had never got on — a slight understatement; they had been sworn enemies for years — but now the war was over and they could both get on with their lives without needing to worry about each other.
The alarm was sounding now and she reached over to switch it off. She rolled out of bed and headed for the bathroom, picking up her towelling robe on the way. She might as well get to the office early; she had loads to do and could get more work done before Draco came to ruin her day, as he had done almost every day since his father had been freed. Anyone would think he had wanted Lucius to be sent back to Azkaban.

‘Are you all right, Hermione?’ Harry asked in concern. His friend had been at her desk early again that morning, and she looked tired and pale.
‘I’m good, just not sleeping too well. I keep waking just before the alarm. It’s really beginning to bug me,’ Hermione laughed.
‘Are you worried about something?’
‘No, I don’t think so, just turning into one of those people who doesn't need an alarm clock. Old age, I expect.’ She smiled and turned back to her work. There was no way she was telling Harry she had been dreaming about Lucius Malfoy. She had already had enough of his and Ron’s sympathy when they found out what she’d had to do to get his confession.
She looked at the calendar. It was a month since the trial; surely she should have got over it by now? She just had to try and put it out of her mind. She picked up the copy of the Daily Prophet Harry had brought in for her and glanced at the headlines — nothing of interest, as usual. For a moment she remembered a conversation with Lucius about Severus Snape and his being awarded the Order of Merlin. She frowned. When had she had that conversation? She had never talked to Lucius about anything other than his confession, apart from when he had first arrived and she had offered to get him a book.
But the moment was gone and the memory fleeting. She sighed and put the paper down, looking at her pile of work. She needed to take a break soon to recharge her batteries. And she wasn’t feeling too well; in fact, she felt a bit queasy.

‘There was an owl for you,’ Ron said when Hermione re-entered the room, having just been sick in the toilet. ‘Here.’
He tossed the letter to her, then sat down at his desk. ‘Anything interesting?’
Hermione shrugged and, frowning, opened the letter. There was nothing to identify who it was from and the envelope was typed. She pulled out the sheaf of parchments and unfolded them, looking quickly at them and then looking round the room. It was her handwriting.
‘I’m just going to go and read this somewhere quiet,’ she told Ron, waving the letter, and she headed for one of the interview rooms.
She closed the door and sat down. She was shaking. Why would she have sent a letter to herself? And why would she have typed the envelope so she wouldn’t realise it was from her? Well, she would never find out unless she read it. She looked down at the first page.

On 2nd December 1998, I was given the task by Draco Malfoy of getting a confession from his father, Lucius Malfoy, about his Death Eater activities. I had been authorised to release Lucius from the facility he was being held in and detain him at my home, having securely prepared my bedroom in readiness. I had been warned that I might need to negotiate with my captive and that a sexual incentive might be required . . . .

Hermione’s stomach gave a lurch and she rushed to the toilet, fighting the urge to be sick again. She really wasn’t feeling very well. Mind you, she needed to go home anyway. If that letter was right — and she had no reason to suppose it wasn’t — then she had some memories she urgently needed to find.
If what she had written was true, she now understood what the dreams she had been having about Lucius meant. According to the letter, the relationship she’d had with him during the interrogation had gone far beyond what she believed, and she’d had her memory modified to save him during the inquiry. The letter didn’t give all the details; clearly, she was trying to ensure that nothing incriminating could be found by others and thus jeopardise her relationship and Lucius’ freedom. But from what it did say, Hermione had worked out that her original memories were stored in a bottle somewhere, ready for viewing in a Pensieve.
She leant over the sink and washed out her mouth with water, then looked at herself in the mirror. God, she looked awful, and her head was pounding fit to burst. It was time to go home. Kingsley would understand. She exited the toilet and made her way shakily back to her office.
‘Are you all right, Hermione?’ Ron asked worriedly, seeing his friend’s drawn face.
‘No, not really. I’ve just been sick and I’ve got a pounding headache; some bug or something, I expect. I’m going to go home and try to sleep it off. I’ll tell Kingsley so he’ll know where to reach me if he needs to.’ Hermione winced as if in pain.
‘It wasn’t something to do with that letter, was it?’ Ron asked suspiciously.
‘No, that was just some personal rubbish — nothing worth worrying about. To be honest, I’ve been feeling pretty rough all morning and it finally came out.’
She grimaced as she hurriedly shoved the letter deep into the bottom of her handbag. Picking it up, she walked over to the coat stand to collect her coat before heading to Kingsley’s office to tell him she was going home.
She was just on her way out the door when she ran into Lucius, elegantly dressed as always and looking concerned when he saw her pale face.
‘What’s the matter, Miss Granger?’ His voice was full of worry.
‘I’m not feeling too well,’ she admitted. ‘I’m going to go home. Lucius, will you come with me, please?’
‘You got the letter, then?’ he asked quietly.
Hermione looked at him in surprise. ‘Did you know about that? Why didn’t you tell me before?’
‘Would you have believed me if I’d told you what had happened between us? I mean, you don’t even remember talking to me, do you?’ Lucius’ voice was sad.
‘Bits. I keep getting flashes of memory, but it’s all so weird I can’t work it out. And then there are the dreams.’
‘Dreams?’
‘You and me, making love. I can feel the love between us, but the dream always finishes before we climax and I feel the biggest sense of loss.’
Lucius chuckled. ‘Sounds like our relationship. We had to stop before we reached the climax.’ He took Hermione’s hand. ‘I’m really hoping we can pick up where we left off, Hermione.’
Hermione gave a small smile. ‘I need to find that bottle. Do you have a Pensieve?’
Lucius nodded. ‘Yes, at home. Do you know where you put the bottle? You didn’t tell me in case I was interrogated — safer if only you knew where you’d hidden it.’
‘I’ve got an idea where I might have put it, although I know it’s definitely at home somewhere. Will you come with me? Hopefully, it won’t be too painful for you.’
Lucius looked at her curiously. ‘Why would it be painful for me?’
‘Because that’s where I held you for the interrogation — in my bedroom,’ Hermione admitted.
‘It was your bedroom. I wondered, but there was nothing of yours in the wardrobe or dressers,’ Lucius said.
‘No, I cleared it all out. I’d been expecting the Lucius Malfoy with an entourage and trunks, not the Lucius Malfoy in a straitjacket and dirty pants.’ She gave a wan smile.
‘Sorry to disappoint you,’ Lucius replied, but he, too, was smiling. ‘I just wish I’d realised I was in your bed all that time.’
‘Would it have made any difference?’ Hermione asked.
‘Probably not,’ Lucius admitted. ‘I was having enough erotic thoughts about you already without adding your bed to it. Although I do like the bedstead; makes an interesting change from a four-poster . . . not so easy to tie you to, though,’ he finished with a grin.
Hermione tried to look scandalised but failed and laughed instead.
‘Perhaps I’d rather tie you up.’
‘You’re welcome to,’ Lucius said. ‘Any time you want.’ He smiled salaciously.
‘I’ll bear it in mind,’ Hermione promised.
They stepped into the alley outside the Ministry and Hermione quickly looked around to make sure no one was looking before wrapping her arms around Lucius’ waist. There was a loud pop as they Disapparated.
Hermione opened the door from the hallway into the lounge and ushered Lucius in ahead of her, then headed for the kitchen and went into the larder. She pulled out a stack of tins and found one in particular and unscrewed the lid. As she pulled the lid off the fake tin she saw the blue bottle nestled safely inside. Smiling happily, she quickly removed it and returned the tins to the cupboard.
She headed back to the lounge, wondering where Lucius was. She didn’t have far to look. He was in the bedroom, looking with interest at the room that had once more been transformed back into Hermione’s personal space rather than the empty room he had stayed in. As she entered the room he turned to look at her.
‘Did you find it?’ he asked hopefully.
Hermione nodded. ‘Yes. It was where I thought I’d put it.’ She showed him the bottle.
‘Are you ready to go, then?’ Lucius asked.
‘I just need to visit the bathroom first,’ Hermione said, her queasiness having suddenly returned. She quickly made her way to the loo, just making it before she was sick once more.
A few minutes later she rejoined Lucius, assuring him that she was fine, both to travel and to look at the memories. Now that she knew about them she wanted desperately to see what she had forgotten about her and Lucius, and no illness was going stop her. Although still a little concerned, Lucius accepted her assurance. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he Apparated them both to Malfoy Manor.

Hermione opened the bottle and tipped it into the Pensieve. She looked at the swirling grey liquid. Lucius took her hand gently.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked. Hermione nodded. ‘You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready, Hermione,’ he said carefully.
‘No, I am ready. I’m just feeling a little queasy still. Will you come with me?’ Hermione’s voice was quiet.
‘Are you sure you want me to?’ Lucius looked at her with concern.
‘Of course. I don’t think there’s anything in there that you don’t already know. It’s all to do with our relationship, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. But it’s from your perspective,’ Lucius replied.
‘Please join me, Lucius.’ Hermione said sincerely, and she reached out to take his hand.
Lucius smiled and nodded. The two of them leant forward into the swirling liquid and were drawn into the memory.

‘Everything makes sense now,’ Hermione said. She sounded content and looked it as she smiled at Lucius.
Her brain was still spinning from trying to take in everything she had seen, but recent bits of memories and her dreams fitted into the memories she had watched. Now she knew she and Lucius were completely in love and she didn’t have to worry about the weird feelings her body was experiencing — which had nothing to do with the bug she was going down with.
Lucius pulled her to him and his lips found hers, gently at first, then with more passion as Hermione responded to his kiss.
‘I really do love you, Lucius,’ Hermione told him as she stroked his face.
‘I love you too, Hermione,’ Lucius responded honestly. ‘With all my heart.’ They kissed again. ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked a little worriedly. ‘Are you still feeling ill?’
Hermione shook her head. ‘Not so much now; just a bit of a headache.’
Lucius gave a salacious smile. ‘Well, I think you should have a lie-down,’ he said. ‘And I think I should join you to make sure you don’t have a relapse.’
Hermione gave a small laugh and nodded in agreement. Lucius led his lover to his bed and pushed her down beneath him, wanting to claim her once more to make her his for all time.

‘When did you last have a period, Hermione?’ Lucius’ voice was curious.
Hermione shrugged. ‘I don’t know, why?’
‘Your sickness — it’s obviously not a bug; you’ve had it too long. I was wondering if you might be pregnant.’
‘Pregnant?’ Hermione frowned. ‘I don’t think I can be. I was using contraception.’
‘Muggle contraception?’
‘Yes. The pill. It should still be effective, though, shouldn’t it?’
Lucius shrugged. ‘Maybe. But as we’re both wizards I wouldn’t have thought it would necessarily be effective.’
‘Oh!’ Hermione looked surprised.
‘Do you mind?’ Lucius pulled Hermione close and held her tightly.
‘Not really. Do you?’ Hermione sounded a little worried about what Lucius’ response would be.
‘Merlin’s beard, no. I think it’s fantastic.’ Lucius kissed the top of Hermione’s head, his hand moving down to caress her stomach. ‘Exactly what I wanted.’
‘You always seem to get exactly what you want, Lucius,’ Hermione noted as she leant back against her lover, enjoying his slow caress.

--- THE END ---

A/N: I could have continued the story but this seemed like the right place to end it. Hermione was indeed pregnant and she gave birth to a daughter, Amber. Lucius’ divorce from Narcissa came through and he and Hermione married by which time she was pregnant with their second child, a girl called Louise. A couple of years later their first son called Lucien arrived and then another daughter Saffron. As Hermione celebrated her thirtieth birthday (Lucius was fifty-five) she found that she was pregnant once again, this time with a son called Theodore. Draco wasn’t at all happy at Hermione’s relationship with his father, although he did make an effort to get on with his step-brothers and sisters, all of whom adored him. After five children Hermione and Lucius decided to start using contraception not wanting to rival the Weasley’s.
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Interrogation