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The Xeoforce Equation	By : Esequell Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Lucius/Hermione Views: 5632 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and I'm not making any money from this.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
6. The Company of Snakes
In the glittering light of the great chandelier, Lucius looked uniquely handsome. His formal robes probably cost as much as Hermione's monthly rent but curiously, he didn't look overdressed. Hermione felt like a plain swan beside a peacock.
The Delamere ballroom swirled like an upmarket lake with every texture of glittering bird available. Lucius touched her elbow, shocking her back to the present. He was wearing a Mona-lisa smirk which made Hermione wonder if he could read her mind as it admired his luscious, thick white hair. Hermione glanced at the dark gardens, her fingertips on the Gothic window. They were lit with levitating candles and guests wandered the black and grey world, like well-dressed revenants.
Lucius dipped his head to speak to her and his breath stirred the baby hairs at the nape of her neck. Her skin goose-pimpled.
'Do try to relax, Miss Granger.'
She could smell his spicy cologne. Her head spun.
'I doubt anyone will try to do away with you tonight,' he added.
Lamplight rinsed over his skin from a nearby enchanted sconce, giving him a momentarily ethereal glow. Hermione thought he looked like a statue come to life for a single evening, something straight out of the girlish fiction she used to keep under her pillow at Hogwarts.
'You look simply terrified,' he said.
'I'm fine,' she said. 'It's just a bit warm in here.'
'You could try a cooling charm,' he suggested, a bit scornfully.
Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes because as usual, she felt he was deliberately impugning her skill as a Witch.
'Just because I can use magic, doesn't mean I need to whip my wand out for everything!' she snarked.
Thank You, Molly!
'Go ahead and roast then,' he chuckled, in that haughty, false way she remembered from the Quidditch World Cup.
'I will,' she said, folding her arms.
On an obligatory circle of the ballroom, Hermione passed one of the two ornate rooms off the ballroom. The fireplace inside was big enough to incinerate an unwary wizard and chaises and chairs were laid around for the guests. Sparkling attendants circulated with platters of sweet and savoury delicacies. Hermione envied the ornate flock, their exquisite plumage and animated chatter. Lucius kept her standing, refusing to be seen alone. He plucked two glasses of champagne from the tray of a passing, half-naked Adonis and handed one to her.
'Ah,' Lucius said suddenly. 'Do you see the pasty, grey haired little fellow behind the pillar?'
'Yes.'
'That is Mercy Brockelfort. Fortuitous that he should be here. He might be useful,' Lucius leaned down to whisper intimately in her ear pointedly; 'Sine Diagnostics majority shareholder and co-director of the company. Much to lose there, Miss Granger.'
Lucius added in soft, regal expectation; 'Stay where I can see you.'
She felt as if he was talking to a child.
Dancers with their skin painted gold and silver twisted and gyrated on low podiums. Most had their vital anatomy covered. Hermione gazed a bit too long at a buxom, black-haired beauty who notice her interest and smiled warmly, offering a sensual hand. Hermione flushed. She saw Lucius smirk out of the corner of her eye and fanned herself.
'I thought this was supposed to be a dignified affair,' Hermione breathed.
Lucius arched an eyebrow. 'I never imagined you to be so prudish. I would certainly like to dance with her.'
'There's a man in a white suit watching us,' Hermione said suddenly.
'Ah. That would be Francis Delamere,' Lucius said mildly. 'Shall we?'
Delamere had once been a handsome man. It showed in his long nose and high cheekbones, but his well proportioned features were pitted and scarred from childhood pox and he was weathered with deep age lines. There was also a telling pale band around his ring finger, suggesting recent removal. He has sparse, jet hair that had probably once been the envy of men and women alike. It was combed to one side now to hide his growing baldness. He had the eyes of a shrewd rat king and even though he was obviously not in the best of health, he held himself tall and strong.
Hermione found his attention uncomfortable, as though he made her soul heavy. Delamere bore the long-healed glossy red marks of old potions burns, certainly the result of experimentation. His white suit and red tie were completely out of place and yet he occupied his space with an air of absolute conviction that reminded her of Lucius and his legendary arrogance.
'Lucius!' he declared, as he clasped Lucius' hand in a businesslike shake. 'What a surprise.'
His smile didn't reach his eyes. This one's dangerous, thought Hermione. She did a double take at his boots. They were made of albino dragon hide.
'Francis,' Lucius nodded.
'Who is this?'
'Miss Granger,' said Lucius stiffly. 'My assistant. Temporarily.'
Delamere brushed a dry kiss onto Hermione's knuckles that lasted a bit longer than she was comfortable with.
'You certainly drew the short straw, Miss Granger. Are you an Auror? I hear Mr Potter's doing very well for himself, these days.'
Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that Delamere knew more than he was letting on.
'Harry's ambitious,' she said. 'I took a different route. I'm a bit more academic than Harry. Or Ron.'
'Really, how so?'
'I'm a researcher,' she said. She knew she was poking around in the gold, hoping not to wake a dragon. 'Actually, at the moment, I'm looking for the cure for Squibbery.'
The gossamer shadow of irritation floated over Delamere's face but it was quickly controlled with an indulgent, false smile.
'I imagine the Ministry is desperate to recruit you and you choose to spend your time with squibs?'
'People who had their magic stolen by criminals,' she said, a bit bossily. 'They deserve an attempt at a normal life.'
'So this is Ministry rehabilitation?' Delamere addressed Lucius. 'An rather expensive project, in the current financial climate.'
Hermione bit her tongue. He's belittling me by pretending I'm not worth a reply. What an arsehole.
'I think the Minister feels public money is better spent on rehabilitation than on feeding and keeping convicts who could otherwise be of use to society.'
'A fine ambition, Lucius,' he nodded doubtfully.
'A necessary one,' said Lucius coldly. Hermione felt a stab of enjoyment. Lucius was defending her, for once.
Then an elaborate beauty slid through the press of bodies and took Delamere's arm. She wore the finest gown Hermione had ever seen and a cake of make-up to hide her age. She couldn't be older than fourteen.
'Uncle!' she smiled. 'I thought I saw you over here and I simply had to come and see what you're up to!'
'My niece. Miss Bishop,' Delamere said, looking unenthralled.
'Please, call me Esme,' she blushed when Lucius kissed her hand.
Little curls of dark hair tickled Esme's nape. Hermione instantly envied her pale porcelain skin.
'My Father is staying here for a few weeks before he returns to France,' she told them. 'He managed to convince me to stay with Uncle for a while. I think he's grown tired of my company! He says I talk him to sleep but I really can't see why. He normally loves a good conversation!'
'Esme-' Esme didn't register Delamere's warning tone. Obviously selectively deaf, thought Hermione.
'Though I'll catch up with Father in the Spring, no doubt,' Esme went on, quickly. 'Uncle has promised to teach me about the finances of a larger estate. I'm going to apply for business school!'
'That sounds...exciting,' Hermione said uncomfortably.
'What do you do, Miss Granger?'
'I'm a researcher. Medicine.'
'How exciting! Though I don't think I could stand to look down a microscope all day and I have such a terrible bedside manner!'
Francis' barely disguised annoyance was obvious to everyone except Esme. He tugged her away and whispered an encouragement that Brockelfort would appreciate her attention. She left with a happy wave that reminded Hermione of Luna Lovegood.
Delamere smiled. It was like watching the Devil take off his mask at the end of masquerade, only to realise he'd been charming you all evening.
'Excuse me,' he said, and disappeared into the crowd.
Hermione couldn't shake the feeling that a dangerous snake had just graciously decided to slither the other way. She glanced at Lucius, who looked pensive and irritable.
'That was...rather telling,' she observed.
'Quite,' he murmured.

oOo
Mercy Brockelfort navigated the colourful throng with the steely determination of a pensioner. He stepped off the dance floor and adjusted his spectacles. The lenses were so thick, they made him look slightly bug-eyed. He was a hunched man now, but he'd clearly once been tall. He was carrying some extra weight in a tyre about his belly but curiously, there was no sign of a walking stick. A solid gold pocket watch dangled out of his waistcoat and Hermione noticed a red wine stain down his expensive shirt.
'My my! Lucius Malfoy!' he exclaimed. 'This is unexpected! We were all under the impression you were-' he hesitated, trying to think up a polite way to say locked in a cell. 'Indisposed!'
What a diplomat, Hermione thought sarcastically.
'I'm quite well, I assure you, Mercy,' Lucius shook his hand.
'Is this your wife?' Brockelfort turned to Hermione and squinted. 'Oh dear me, no. I can see that you certainly aren't Narcissa! A pleasure to meet you.'
He kissed her hand with wet, hairy lips.
'I am Mercy. Mercy Brockelfort,' he smiled. 'Lucius and I are old acquaintances. Our Fathers, may they rest in peace, used to hunt together! Do you still have the hounds, Lucius? Those beautiful, crimson eyed beasts. What were their names?'
'Adder and Arrow,' Lucius supplied. 'Both very much alive.'
'Goodness me!' Brockelfort exclaimed. 'How lovely! I should like to see them, some time! I'm afraid we lost their dear Mother...Silver was quite my favourite bitch. Lucius we must have a drink and reminisce. What do you say?'
'I'd be delighted,' Lucius said lightly. Hermione found it easier to relax around Brockelfort, than Delamere.
'You must bring your young...ah...acquaintance! I'll wager I could tell her a few tales of your youth.'
Lucius stiffened. 'Now, now. We wouldn't like to turn Miss Granger prematurely grey, Mercy.'
'I think I'll brave a few grey hairs for that!' Hermione laughed at his discomfort.
'I await your pleasure, then,' Brockelfort nodded, pleased to stay and bend their ears about the notable and beautiful paintings scattered around the ballroom.

oOo
The murmur of constant conversation and the building heat left Hermione's head spinning. She wasn't very keen on crowds since the Quidditch World Cup. She kept wanting to check her exits. She noticed the stares of other women, and soon grew tired of it.
Maybe being on an ex-Deatheaters arm is trial enough without being judged for it, she thought uncomfortably.
She knew she ought be paying closer attention to what was being said but her old leg wound was aching from standing too long in heels and she was suddenly much too warm in the confined space. She wafted herself.
'I need to get outside,' she said.
Lucius cast her an expression of mild concern and willingly released her hand from the crook of his arm. She made her way towards the packed veranda.
'Poor girl looks positively ill,' commented a bejewelled elderly lady to her dark-haired niece, smugly. 'How unfortunate. I do hope it's easily rectified, Mr Malfoy.'
Lucius' lips thinned in displeasure at the obvious insinuation that his "assistant" was in delicate condition.
'I'm inclined to agree with her,' he said haughtily. 'It's most uncomfortable in here.'
The old woman pouted, infuriated with his veiled insult and the niece, for all that she was clearly expected to be the model of proper conduct, hid a smirk behind her fan.

oOo
Hermione wandered off the veranda when she found it too close-packed for comfort. She found a set of weathered stone steps that lead down to the gardens. A dark alley ran alongside the hour, just wide enough for the grounds-keeper and his wheelbarrow. It was little more than a dirt track and still damp with recent snow. She slid into it, covered by the shadows. She cast a quick drying charm at the ground, pulled off her shoes with a huge sigh of relief and put her head against the wall as her feet sang their gratitude.
A warm-blooded shadow made its presence known by touching her elbow. She gasped in fright.
'Miss Granger,' purred Lucius. 'What are you doing?'
'Will you stop sneaking up on me!' she snapped. 'Honestly, I could've hexed you!'
He glanced at her feet pointedly, then arched a brow in enquiry.
'They hurt!' she said defensively.
A distant, quiet conversation snatched her attention. Two figures stood silhouetted in the light of the driveway candles. She could see Delamere's white suit. She tugged her shoes on roughly and snatched Lucius by the hand. 'Come on!'
They crept to the end of the alley, to where the shadows gave way to flickering driveway candle light. Lucius leaned close to her back to take advantage of the shadows. Hermione could feel his body heat.
'Use disillusionment!' Lucius breathed in her ear. Goosebumps raced down her neck at the almost-touch of his lips.
'Have her close the wound, then!' hissed Delamere. 'We'll just have to wait a few more days. If it dies while she's collecting-' his voice faded out of hearing range. Brockelfort's lips moved soundlessly in reply.
I wish I had an extendable ear, Hermione thought desperately.
'The concealment will hold,' Mercy insisted, with none of his trademark smile or twinkle. 'I cast it myself. She's useless.'
'She only needs one qualification,' Delamere said, turning his head to stare into the alleyway dark. Hermione held her breath in fear, her heart thumping. Lucius tightened his hold on her elbow. Delamere searched the dark. His lips twitched, then he turned away, and their voices faded as they made their way back to the party.
'Finite Incantatem!' she whispered in relief.
Lucius appeared as the enchantment lifted.
'That was too close for comfort,' she said breathlessly.
'Indeed.'
'They can't be holding one here?'
'If they're involved, it makes perfect sense,' Lucius smirked. 'How lucky that I primed Mr Potter's department tonight.'
'I swear, if Esme Bishop doesn't have something to do with this, I'll eat my own hair,' Hermione said softly. 'Did you see the amount of make-up she's wearing?'
'What of it?'
'Honestly,' she shook her head at him. 'Isn't it obvious? She's trying to look older than she is!'
'Wouldn't an ageing potion do just as well?' he asked in confusion.
'Yes,' she frowned softly. 'But they can be unpredictable and if she was caught with a trace in her blood...well. I don't think she'd take that risk. How much are you willing to bet she's-' Hermione whispered a bit uncomfortably. 'A virgin?'
'Would you like me to find out?' he arched a brow.
'Actually, yes. Meanwhile, I'm going to keep that kindly old codger talking. He's not what he seems.'
Lucius straightened.
'Quite. I shall circulate and see what information I can extract. Don't stray far,' he warned her, with a gesture to his wrist. 'After dinner, at exactly quarter to nine, excuse yourself to powder your nose. I'll be waiting in the closet near the conveniences.'

oOo
Hermione found a place to rest her aching feet between two bejewelled old women who'd come to the party together. They were both widows, and they knew an inordinate amount of information about the Delamere estate, his estranged wife and his daughter, as well as the history of the house and even titbits about the staff.
'Word has it, she left when he began experimenting with his potions!' said the eldest, to which the younger nodded. 'Took their daughter, and went off with a working man.'
Hermione saw Lucius move through the thick crowd, distinguishable as he was by his shock of platinum hair. He tugged a babbling, blushing Esme into a little hollow of shadow and leaned down to whisper to her. Hermione caw the edge of Esme's glove in the light as she slid her hands around his neck. A little jolt of annoyance lanced through her belly. She wasn't sure why.
Hermione pushed open the door to the dining hall and crept inside. There was already a huge fire roaring in the hearth and in the adjoining serving room, she could hear the clink of cutlery and glasses and the soft voices of House Elves preparing to serve dinner.
She was alone. She searched for her name-tag. Brockelfort was five seats away, on the same side. That's not very conducive to dinner conversation, she thought. She swapped his tag with the man next to her.
'Miss is too early!' squeaked a tiny, bossy House Elf unhappily.
Hermione spun. The elf wore a clean, monogrammed pillowcase and Hermione was pleased to see, hand-stitched thermal vest underneath. Its skinny arms were folded.
'Oh!' Hermione smiled disarmingly. 'I'm so sorry, I must have wandered in here by accident! I can find my way out.'
The elf gave a minute shake of disapproval as the door closed with a click and Hermione went back to the widows, smiling.

oOo
Hermione made a point of searching for her seat, in case anyone suspected her of swapping tags. Lucius pulled out her chair. She sat when it touched the back of her knees gently. As he slid into his seat, his dress robes parted to reveal the tight fitting jacket beneath. It accentuated his trim chest and broad shoulders and made her feel a bit too warm.
'And?' she prompted him, their voices covered by the noise of chairs moving and guests settling in. He leaned in.
'Yes,' he gave her a tight smile. His grey eyes sparkled with dangerous intent. 'Though she's most easily tolerated when her mouth is occupied.'
Hermione closed her eyes in obvious discomfort.
'Nice,' she said.
Hermione learned more about Brockelfort's eldest son, their home in Hampshire, his heritage and even his collection of antique thimbles than she did about criminal activity of any sort. The clock ticked through a divine starter during which Lucius once refilled her glass. The wine went to her head. She topped up the half remaining with water.
'Would you believe, my wife enjoys it exactly the same way!' Brockelfort snatched her out of her thoughts. She worked to catch up with the conversation. At her politely blank expression he gestured to her wine.
'Oh!' she smiled as genuinely as she could. 'I don't suffer as much in the morning this way.'
'Quite right!'
'One of my favourite books as a child was The Stinging Tree!' Brockelfort replied, a little over-excitedly to the woman opposite.
She wasn't much older than Hermione. She had the unmistakeable expression of Pureblood superiority. I wonder if it's a genetic, Hermione thought? Honestly, if she wore any more diamonds she'd be a walking liability to theft and extortion!
'A popular childhood favourite,' the woman replied, sounding as thought she didn't much care.
Hermione had read almost every book, adults, children's, fact or fiction that Hogwarts could provide and almost everything else she had time for.
'I love that story!' she caught Brockelfort's attention once again. 'When I first came to Hogwarts I was absolutely fascinated with magical creatures! Especially dragons.'
'A dangerous sport!' Brockelfort indulged her happily, pleased by the way she flashed the tiniest amount of cleavage and played with her hair.
Funny, this used to work on Ron too, she thought. And every other guy I've dated.
'I desperately wanted to see a Hinkypunk!' Hermione smiled.
'You have a taste for the risky!' Brockelfort chuckled.
'And a unicorn. Though I think every girl wants that.'
His mouth went dry. His eyes glazed over in blind ecstasy as he imagined her riding one. One leg on each side.
'Silly, isn't it?' Hermione feigned innocence. It worked. Brockelfort swallowed loudly.
'No,' he said quite seriously. 'No. That's not silly at all.'
Esme gazed longingly at Lucius when she thought Hermione wasn't looking. Hermione did feel a bit sorry for using the girl but she also felt darkly satisfied that Lucius wasn't returning her gazes at all. She and Lucius both chased down roast duck with lemon sorbet.
'What a delightful evening,' Brockelfort patted his belly contentedly. 'Then again, Francis always did know how to throw a party!'
'How long have you known him?'
'Oh, as long as I remember! An old family friend. It wasn't until we met again at University that we became firm friends, though.'
Hermione smiled.
'I don't know why, I was under the impression he worked for you. Or you worked for him...I'm not sure.'
'Whatever made you think that?'
'I don't know,' she smiled apologetically. 'Sometimes I can just...tell things about people. Isn't that weird?'
He hesitated. Then he admitted;
'You must have a sixth sense then! Very astute of you. Very astute indeed. We do work together, sometimes. Very similar interests, you see.'
Hermione gave a light, elegant shrug. 'You see? I have no idea how I do that!'
'You're a very unusual young lady, aren't you?' Brockelfort's eyes were hungry.
Hermione flushed, but completely for the wrong reasons. The back of his gnarled fingers brushed her thigh. She fought not to squirm. Just wear it for five minutes, she assured herself. It's almost quarter to anyway.
'A very unusual young lady indeed,' he smiled. Hermione spied the metal loops of false teeth and tried very hard not to cringe.
The first time I kiss a man with false teeth, I'd better be eighty, she thought.
'You know, you're not the first young lady to confide in me her desire to see the most majestic...of all magical creatures.'
'Really?' Hermione tried to hold her ground confidently as she felt Lucius leave behind her.
'Mmm,' he nodded indulgently.
His knuckle slid a bit higher. Hermione's breath seized. Disgust welled in the pit of her stomach.
'Excuse me, please. I need to powder my nose.'
She was out of her seat before he could say a word, dodging through bodies to reach the loo. She fled to the hallway to calm her shaking hands. Lucius pulled her into the dark of the broom closet. She lit the tip of her wand as she caught herself on the metal storage racking. She kicked a tin bucket aside lightly before she could accidentally put her foot in it.
'Do you have to do that without giving me some warning!?' she hissed.
Lucius laid a warm, dry finger on her wrist and delicately pushed her wand aside until it was no longer pointed at his face.
'Sorry,' she lowered it. 'You startled me.'
She bent to fiddle uncomfortably with her shoes. He ignored the view down the front of her dress, revealing a black lacy bra. The girl is nicely endowed, he thought. Neither too big or too small.
'What happened? Did he tell you anything?'
'It's not what he told me,' she straightened uncomfortably, tugging her dress back into position. 'Merlin's beard, you didn't tell me he was such a letch! He's worse than Ron. I didn't sign up for this to get touched up by filthy old men!'
'Calm down,' he purred. 'He won't do more than pinch your behind in here.'
'Yes, well, I'd rather he didn't even do that,' she said hotly. 'But no, to answer your question. Though he had a funny reaction when I mentioned Unicorns.'
'Tell me you weren't that overt,' Lucius sighed, despairingly.
'Of course not,' she sighed, as if he was an idiot for asking. 'He mentioned a children's book...it just came up in conversation, alright?'
She pulled out a compact mirror out of her black velvet bag and held it up.
'I look a fright!' she cried.
'Keep your voice down,' he hissed.
Hermione went fishing for her make-up supplies and set about fixing her face.
'What did you find out?' she asked.
'Delamere owns the forest just off the estate. It's certainly worth a look.'
'You know...when I mentioned the Unicorns...he said something strange. "You're not the first young lady to confide in me her desire to see the most majestic of all magical creatures," she parroted. I think that's a bit of a strange thing to say, don't you? What kind of old man goes around asking girls their fantasies?'
Lucius said nothing. Hermione instantly thought of Esme. She tried to put that image out of her head. Glossy red lipstick travelled around her lips until they took on an unnatural fullness. Lucius watched it, captivated by the way her flesh sprang back after the pressure. She screwed the cap back on and stashed it away, oblivious to his sudden attention.
'Wait,' he said, impulsively. He reached up and dragged a curl forward, then eyed her appraisingly. 'No, that's not it.'
His fingertips brushed her forehead as he pulled a pin from her hair, rearranged a few stray strands and slid the pin back into place gently. His gaze fell to her mouth, now as red as an open rose. My favourite colour, too, he thought. Their eyes locked. She flinched at a sudden thump from outside.
'Miss Granger,' Lucius drawled. 'I believe we may have company.'
'Yes, probably some of those old women who wanted to know all about us-' she said uncomfortably. 'Are people always so nosy at these parties?'
He reached for the shelf system behind her and gave it a gentle push. It rattled. His smirk grew.
'Play along,' he prompted.
'Please tell me you don't want me to make the noises as well,' she bent to grab the mop and bucket.
'No, that's quite unnecessary. Just make it obvious we're in here alone. Together. A few minutes should do it.'
'Wow,' she arched an eyebrow.
'Now, now, Miss Granger,' he was glad of the dark. He didn't want her to see his blush. 'We mustn't comment on things we know nothing about.'

oOo
Lucius listened at the door. Silence on the other side.
'They're gone,' he whispered. He gestured to her with his free hand. 'Come, Miss Granger. A walk.'
Hermione sighed. 'I really can't see what good that'll do. These horrible shoes are already rubbing me raw!'
'Do stop complaining,' he drawled. He slid into the hall and tugged her along. 'They're certainly an improvement on those ugly plimsolls.'
'I don't see what my choice of shoes has to do with you!' she hissed, as he wrapped an arm casually around her waist.
'Everything when we have to be seen together.'
He drew her out into the gardens.
'You're positively shallow!' she resisted the urge to fold her arms petulantly.
'I simply appreciate beauty.'
'So do I!' she countered hotly.
'Well, we differ somewhat in our perception, then,' he guided her towards the path where a patch of lantern light provided a spotlight. 'Now. Come a bit closer.'
'I think we're close enough.'
His lips thinned. 'Will you please...just...trust me?' he ground out.
'Fine,' she sighed, and took a tentative step closer.
'Closer Miss Granger, for Merlin's sake. I don't bite.'
Her skin sensitized suddenly when he brushed her cheek with the back of his finger.
'How romantic,' she scoffed in a whisper. 'Shagging in a closet followed by a moonlight walk and a quick grope...really, how could a girl ask for more?'
'You're sarcasm is most distracting,' he breathed. 'It's called jealousy, Miss Granger. Despite the fact I'm certain Mercy would need to use his wand for more than incantations in the unlikely event you did succumb to his...charms...I doubt that'll dissuade him from trying,' he arched a brow pointedly.
Hermione shuddered.
'I am not getting close to him again.'
'You are going to use your feminine charms to our best advantage,' he informed her arrogantly.
'Good luck with that,' she breathed. 'I've been looking for them for years.'
'Do be quiet,' he said softly. 'He's watching us now. Miss Granger? Do you think you could at least look like you're enjoying this? It's quite a necessary part of the illusion.'
'Sorry,' she muttered.
His fingertip toyed with a curl of her hair. He wrapped a warm arm around her waist. She was suddenly just the right temperature. He's like a radiator, she thought. I've never known a man put out so much body-heat. It reminded her of both the duel and the bathroom incident and she wasn't sure whether to be anxious or relaxed.
'Ah, here he comes,' Lucius said. 'Go! Draw him towards the lake. Think, temptress, Miss Granger.'
'Fine,' she breathed.
Hermione walked the candlelit path down to the lake alone. It was too dark for comfort by the water. Jagged stones ran around the edge to alert unwary feet and the floating candles that illuminated the vast pond dripped occasional globs of wax onto the glassy surface, sending ripples chasing their forefathers. It didn't take long before she heard shuffling footsteps.
This is a game of cat and mouse. And I'm the mouse. God, why am I doing this?
She turned her back to the house and resisted the urge to check her wand.
'Abandoned you, has he?' asked Brockelfort, stepping out of the dark with a good natured smile. 'That won't do, will it? Wouldn't want you to trip on your lovely shoes and hurt yourself. Let me accompany you, please. Would you join me for a stroll?'
Hermione forced herself to nod. Brockelfort shuffled along at a decent speed. Hermione was sure she felt the trickle of blood from the straps but she didn't want to draw attention to it by looking at her feet. Brockelfort gazed pensively at the forest.
'Are you alright, Mr Brockelfort?'
'Yes, yes,' he waved her away. 'Quite well, thank you. My dear...in lieu of Lucius' fine company, perhaps I could tempt you to accompany me a short way into the trees? I think you might find one of my recent acquisitions to be...very interesting. A sort of...living collectors item?'
'What is it?' she asked warily.
'Something you would very much like to see!' he smiled encouragingly.
'How far-?'
'Not far,' he promised.
A shadow waited behind a leafless, twisted chestnut tree. Hermione swallowed hard.
'OK,' she nodded. 'A midnight walk. Sounds nice.'
She kept her hand close to her wand as she followed him into the trees. He lit the tip of his wand and pointed with the small halo of light to a path through the undergrowth. Something big and heavy had been dragged this way, pulling up soil and bracken in long furrows.
'Watch your feet, my dear,' he warned.
The sound of the guests faded into the distance. Once or twice, Brockelfort lead her fearlessly through low-lying fog that she found eerily reminiscent of her time around the Dementors. She knew she was being followed. The wristband tingled gently, suggesting Lucius was almost at the limit of its capacity.
Oh God, you better be close, she thought. I don't want to find out what happens to us if we break the bracelet connection.
Then through the thick dark, Hermione heard a familiar, shrill, uneasy cry. She knew it from her lessons at Hogwarts. It was a Unicorn. Brockelfort waved a complex incantation and a thick, powerful glamour peeled back. Two caged Unicorns stood in the clearing, surrounded by glittering sound-proofing wards. They were tied by their beautiful, white heads to the bars. Their twisting horns were caught uncomfortably on the bars. The stallions throat bore the marks of recent abuse by a blade. Thin tributaries of silver blood ran over his broad, muscular chest to his knees. Hermione gasped.
'Oh my God.'
Brockelfort came up behind her, his arms folded, smiling smugly.
'Attacked by a fox, the poor thing. We tried to help, but Unicorns can be so picky. Still so beautiful though. Why don't you go and touch one, my dear?'
He had an edge to his voice now that Hermione didn't like. Bitter spite. The kind old pensioner was gone. Brockelfort stood a little straighter. She obeyed just to put a little comfortable distance between them.
The stallion hung his head in exhaustion. He searched her face and heart with a wary, silver eye. His mare tugged at her collar. She lifted her front feet and kicked at the bars. Hermione swallowed hard. In a split second decision that she couldn't explain, she changed direction and approached the mare instead. Her heart thumped wildly. She could feel it in her neck, hear it in her skull. The mare snorted out a foggy breath and calmed when she realised her mate was no longer in danger. Her silver blue eye rotated. Hermione felt the edge of the animal's sentient mind brush against her magic, searching, reading her intentions.
'I won't hurt you,' Hermione promised, a bit more thickly than she'd intended. This is so cruel, she thought. 'It's OK.'
The mare stilled. Hermione held out her hand nervously.
Lucius watched from behind his chestnut. The mare closed the distance and licked her palm. His insides warmed. Oh merlin's left nut, she's a bloody virgin he thought.
Hermione laughed softly and stroked the warm, fuzzy nose. Soft little white whiskers tickled between her fingers and a hot tongue cleaned all the salt off her palm. The mare blinked eyelashes as delicate as lace made of ice.
'Lovely,' Brockelfort murmured. 'Like you, my dear.'
Hermione jumped away from him. He'd come up behind her silently. He brandished his wand at her. She grabbed for hers.
'Imp-' he started.
'Stupefy!' she yelled, as a similar blast of light short from between the trees and send Brockelfort sprawling into the base of a tree. His wand fell from his grasping fingers as he struggled to breathe. A second blue flash thunked his head unpleasantly against the risen roots and knocked him out.
Hermione spun to the cage without even looking for Lucius and jabbed her wand-tip into the lock.
Alohomora, she willed.
It popped.
'Typical,' she hissed, 'Only an idiot relies on heavy warding to do what a lock should.'
Lucius stepped out from between the trees wearing a disgusted expression. He hopped to a clump of sparse grass to wipe his shoe.
'We have to get them out of here,' Hermione said quickly.
'The Aurors are already on their way,' Lucius cast a quick Scourgify and was pleased when he received no unpleasant rebound. 'Now would be a good time to leave, Miss Granger.'
'No. We have to help them.'
Lucius reached for her. The mare stepped forward, pointing her horn at Lucius' heart. Hermione bent to fiddle with the lock on the stallion's cage, protected by the sweeping neck of the mare, who held Lucius back easily. He sighed through his nose in irritation.
'Miss Granger-' he warned her, as the lock popped.
He inched towards her. The mare sensed his intentions. She took a single, threatening step forward. Lucius stopped with both hands spread in the air.
'For goodness sake!' he hissed. I never imagined I'd have to fight a Unicorn for a virgin tonight.
'Or you might not be able to use your questionable influence again,' she nodded sarcastically.
His cheeks gained the slightest flush in his irritation.
'We may both need my ah...questionable influence...as you put it. You rather require my help.'
Hermione brushed her hand down the mare's soft, warm neck and impulsively, rested her cheek against the animal with a smile. Lucius softened. He held out a hand for her. The mare gave a soft whinny as Hermione took his offered hand. She disapparated.
They reappeared in a patch of shadow next to the Delamere house. Lucius tugged her close and handed her his cane.
'A little acting,' he arched a brow. He ruffled her hair and smudged her lipstick.
'What on Earth are you doing!' she fought his hands.
'A diversion, Miss Granger! We can't very well have been in the forest if we were busy up here, can we? Care to do the honours?' he gestured to himself.
She sighed. She tugged his hair into an artful mess and took a smear of lipstick from her bottom lip. He arched an eyebrow when she wiped it onto his bottom lip.
'How do I look?' he asked.
'Like I've just snogged you senseless,' she said uncomfortably. She tugged one of her shoes off and pulled her dress up a little. Lucius unbuttoned his shirt collar, took his cane from her and peered around the tree.
Lucius was granted a better view of the veranda by virtue of his height. He waited until Esme ran into view to watch the first streaming comet land. She was followed closely by her stony-faced Uncle Delamere. Lucius pushed Hermione into view. He smirked proudly when she hopped, trying to put her discarded show back on. He stepped out smoothly and knelt to help her.
She gave him a very convincing smile as he straightened and tenderly smoothed her hair down. She reached up to wipe the smudge off his face.
'Are they watching?' he breathed to her hairline.
'Yes,' she whispered.
'Good.'
He took her by the hand and lead her through the house to the apparition point. Delamere watched them coldly. Lucius tugged her close enough to wrap his strong, velvet arms around her body. She disapparated.

oOo
They materialised at the Malfoy gate in that position. Hermione's breath fogged as they separated slowly. He looks so tall like this, she mused. I think he actually makes me feel quite safe.
He smirked, an untidy bird who'd forgotten to preen.
'I must say,' he arched a brow at her, 'You have an uncanny ability with unicorns.'
Hermione flushed.
'I can see I'm going to have to watch my tongue around you,' he went on. 'Wouldn't want to go spoiling innocence. Tell me...was it shyness that held you back, or is Weasley really as simple-minded as he looks?'
'That's none of your business,' she stepped through the warding with an irritated sigh.
'You really ought to thank me,' he reminded her delicately, his boots crunching on the drive. Misty was already opening the door for them. 'If not for me, you might have surrendered your virtue on the forest floor tonight.'
'I can defend myself, you know.'
'Oh,' he nodded, an eyebrow arched. 'I've noticed.'
Hermione tugged her shoes off the moment she reached the foyer and rubbed her feet.
'You're never picking my shoes again,' she said tartly.

oOo
Hermione slid out of her gown and was pleasantly surprised to find that - for once- it was whole and complete and thoroughly re-wearable. She smiled at it as she hung it up in her walk-in wardrobe. She cleaned her teeth and removed her make-up, revealing the light blush of her burns. As she spat out the toothpaste she gazed at her own face in the mirror.
I've grown up, she thought. She'd always imagined it'd be horrible to get past twenty. She'd envisioned putting on loads of weight and probably still having small breasts and wild hair. In truth, she'd never seen anything particularly special about her looks.
She ran fingertips along her forearms. Lena had done the most amazing job but it was still obvious she'd been badly injured there. Perhaps I should ask for the grafts, she thought. Or perhaps, said the Gryffindor inside her, I should just accept this is who I am now. I still have beautiful skin everywhere else.
It was then that she happened upon an idea. She envisioned the result of a beautiful, if unusual, tattoo. Her contingency plan in case Lena couldn't improve the scars any more.

oOo
'What's going on, Harry?' Hermione asked quickly.
'Two Unicorns,' he said. 'Seized both. We found traces of Unicorn blood in the private lab. Delamere claims he spilled potions ingredients but I can't see that holding up in court. That's the good news. The bad news is that Delamere disapparated using an Untraceable charm.'
'What about Brockelfort, Harry? He tried to use the Imperio on me in the forest-'
'No trace of him, either but he's obviously in on this. He's actually the one with the record. Rape.'
Hermione swallowed down an ugly knot in her throat. Lucius stiffened slightly but said nothing.
'Worse still, the samples we seized in the underground raid turned to ash. Some kind of curse. The cursebreakers reckon you need a password to work with it. Judging by the victims...we're guessing it's a modified form of Mactoduplex. They're all dead, now. Died within a day.'
Hermione folded her arms uncomfortably.
'They're trying to find a way to remove people's magic by force,' she said solidly. 'They think they can reverse engineer Mactoduplex. Isolate the parts of the potion that take effect when you overdose. Instant Squibbery. Basically the same thing as absolute power.'
'Yeah,' Harry nodded. 'That's our theory too. I want you to stay here, Hermione. Don't go out alone. They'll be looking for a way to get to you.'
'Harry, you can't ask me to sit back while they do...that...to more people!'
'That's what the Auror division's for. Just...stay put. Please. We'll Floo if we find anything either of you can do. One more thing,' Harry sat forward. 'Esme Bishop made a statement to Rita Skeeter this morning.'
Hermione stared at him in numb shock.
'Apparently,' Harry said delicately. 'A broom closet was involved...and then a...tryst against the wall.'
Hermione stared at him in horror. He looked hurt. She shook her head vehemently.
'Harry, you can't possibly believe that!'
'It was merely a diversion, Potter,' Lucius put in. 'We had to come up with an alibi quickly.'
'It's not really any of my business, is it?' Harry said, a bit coolly.
Hermione choked back tears. 'I didn't do anything with him, Harry.'
'Fine,' Harry shrugged. His jaw was set in a firm line. 'Just be ready for an article. There's a limit on how far we can go to control the Prophet before we look dictatorial.'

oOo
Sleep eluded her. She tossed and turned on the expensive cotton sheets, too hot, too cold, itchy, restless. A lengthy report to the Minister had left her feeling drained and invaded, as if her own life was on trial as well as Lucius'. Lackwit wanted the rehabilitation experiment to run, and by proxy, to succeed, which made Hermione feel like she was getting another migraine.
She left her silky, warm bed and slid on an old woolly jumper. She crept downstairs in her fluffy red bed-socks and found the study door slightly ajar. The fire was almost burned down but the glowing embers still put out a decent amount of heat. The Brandy decanter caught her eye. She crossed the room and closed her fingers eagerly on the cut crystal neck. His chuckle frightened her half to death. She spun to face him, panting.
'Well, well, Miss Granger,' purred Lucius, from the bay window. His hair caught the moonlight. 'It must have been a nightmare indeed, to drive you to the bottle.'
She forced her breathing to normalise and helped herself resolutely. If he was going to be so sarcastic she'd damn well drink his best liquor.
'That's not the nightmare,' she said. 'By tomorrow morning, most of the Wizarding world will think I'm sleeping with you. Since I'm actually living here right now, that's going to be pretty hard to deny.'
'Sometimes silence achieves more than denial,' he said calmly. 'May I enquire as to the outcome of your meeting with the Minister?'
'Well,' she said softly. 'I admit I didn't skip any pertinent details. He still wants us to continue.'
'Excellent,' his teeth were white behind his smirk. He was exceedingly pleased with himself. 'It's all a formality, you understand. The public is quite simply all over the story of my rehabilitation. The lackwit can't possibly back out now. Besides. My galleons do come in very handy, and with my businesses running smoothly, back under my control, there'll be plenty where my initial...donations...came from. The Minister won't turn down the chance to use me to my full potential.'
Hermione slid into the bay window seat across from him and gazed at the moonlit garden.
'You know, it hasn't escaped my notice that you're basically using me to get into the papers. By ruining whatever decent reputation I actually have. I want it on the record that I don't appreciate it.'
'Quid pro quo, Miss Granger,' he arched a brow.
'Meaning?' she said a bit defensively.
'Meaning,' he took a leisurely, lordly sip. 'That if you help me attain my liberty, I will help you recoup your losses.'
'Are you bribing me?' she asked incredulously.
'I'm ensuring this...transaction...flows smoothly,' his lips lifted smoothly. 'I don't believe I mentioned a bribe? More of a...partnership.'
Hermione glanced at the glass in his hand. Then without any warning she sat forward and snatched it.
'Will you stop drinking!' she huffed.
'Give me my glass,' Lucius held out his hand threateningly.
'No!'
He unfolded himself. She snatched up her wand and vanished it.
'Why you interfering little witch!' he hissed.
'You're awful when you drink!' she turned for the door.
He grabbed her from behind with both arms and held her as if he were giving her a big, bear hug. He was strong and stubborn but he didn't squeeze too hard.
'Give me back my fine crystal,' his tone held a note of clear warning.
'Absolutely not,' she shook her head. 'Since it hasn't actually left the house I can't even be accused of theft!'
'This is a large house,' Lucius said coolly. 'And I'm very fond of those glasses. Where is it?'
'No,' she wriggled. He pulled her in closer. His chest was so hot. She wasn't keen to admit it to herself but she was secretly enjoying this. It felt good to be close to another human being.
'Where is it!' he hissed, with his mouth so close to her ear that her whole body shuddered in violent betrayal. She knew right away he felt and perfectly understood her reaction. His grasp took on a slightly different texture and energy. It wasn't precisely sexual, more friendly. He turned his hand to hold her forearm. His thumb stroked a very gentle, soothing rhythm on her skin. She felt like he was telling her, albeit secretly, that he was enjoying the game. Just a bit of harmless fun. She resisted the urge to smile.
Lucius rested his forehead on the back of her skull like Harry might if they were stuck in stalemate in a Twister fight and said dangerously;
'If you don't bring me back my glass, I shall ward the liquor cabinet so only I can access it.'
Hermione sagged.
'You wouldn't.'
'I assure you, I will. You little lush,' she could hear his smirk.
She snorted. 'That's something coming from you, Lucius Alcoholic Malfoy.'
'I can hold my drink,' he sniffed.
'So can I,' she countered, defensively.
He moved his hand and gently, dug his fingertips into the sensitive flesh of her waist.
'Oi!' she yelped as she twisted away. He held on tight.
'Forgive me,' he said, with false sincerity. 'I seem to have found your weakness.'
Hermione squealed as he tickled her. He was merciless.
He remembered doing this to Draco when he was still a boy. It was always well received and Draco was a fighter, more inclined to try to beat his Father than Granger, who tried to curl up in his arms as she laughed helplessly. He felt himself grow warm and unaccountably happy as she responded so favourably. Narcissa would certainly have cursed him for trying this, even when they were younger. He kept his hands deliberately gentle, sensing that he very much wanted the girl to trust his touch in future.
'Stop it! Please!' she bucked, wriggling madly. He paused. She couldn't stop giggling.
'My glass?' he enquired calmly.
'No!' she resisted. She screamed as he wrapped both arms across her body like a dual seatbelt and attacked her waist. 'Alright, alright!' she gasped.
He tugged her a bit closer to his chest in silent warning that if she should try to be sneaky, he'd tickle again. Hermione composed herself enough to flick her wand and bring back his glass.
'Good girl,' he purred. 'I always knew you could be reasonable.'
'You can go right to hell,' she laughed incredulously. She didn't really mean it and she could tell he knew that.
He released her gently and set her back on her feet. He's so gentle when he wants to be, she thought, as she turned to look up at him. She was flushed pink, her eyes alive.
Could I have made her happy? He thought hesitantly. She certainly looks it. His traitorous heart swelled with secret pride. It had been a very long time since he'd made anyone happy. It felt good and brought back memories of his earlier days, before the Dark Lord.
Hermione gazed a bit too long, awed by his fine features and sudden display of playfulness. He gazed back, his eyes full of heavy-lidded humour as he sipped his drink contentedly.
'I'm going to bed,' she announced.
'I'm going to sit here and enjoy my triumph,' he raised the glass in mock toast.
'Oh, stop gloating,' she scowled, not very seriously.
'Do try not to be sore loser,' he countered with a soft little smirk.

oOo
Hermione came down to breakfast to find the Daily Prophet waiting for her. She unfolded it cautiously.
Granger and Malfoy in a Secret Love Tryst
An anonymous source reports witnessing none other than Hermione Granger and Lucius Malfoy in a secret broom-closet tryst.
Attending an evening affair together, they seemed more concerned with each other than an Auror raid on the private estate on which they were dining.
Miss Granger is known for her taste in famous wizards, having previously dated close friends Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, and even indulged a year-long liaison with Quidditch star Viktor Krum. Miss Granger is, apparently, not shy about using her charms to get what she wants but many expected better of Malfoy. In the wake of his divorce from ex-wife Narcissa Black, he seems to have turned his attention to less refined and certainly more vulnerable prey.
Their picture hardly moved. A hidden cameraman had snapped the moment before they disapparated from the Delamere estate. Hermione stood tight to Lucius, gazing up into his face. Looking at it from an outsiders perspective she had to admit, they did look intimate. He was wearing the oddest expression of tender amusement she'd ever seen. She flushed pink and put the paper down.
'Less refined. Vulnerable!? Prey!'
'You're hardly prey,' Lucius admitted tightly. 'More like a little cobra.'
'Thanks,' she burst out laughing as she added drily; 'I think.'

oOo
Misty apparated into the library with a soft pop. Hermione had been at work so long her eyes were beginning to blur, so she was secretly glad of the interruption.
'Mr Harry Potter is here, Miss! Should Misty show him in?'
Hermione set her quill down and put aside her translation of the A M Anonymous' work.
'Yes please, Misty.'
Harry gave Hermione a big, brotherly hug. He held on a bit longer than normal and then took the seat she offered with uncharacteristic quietness. He met her eyes nervously. She knew right away he was here on personal business.
'Hermione. I need to talk to you about the other day. You and Malfoy,' he sighed. 'I'm sorry. I didn't think before I opened my mouth. I've spoken to a few people at work and Malfoy's very well known for using any tool he can to get publicity.'
Hermione listened.
'Before you took this job, he'd been out of the news for months. I'm sorry for doubting you, OK? I really am.'
'It's OK, Harry,' she smiled suddenly and gave him a huge hug. 'God, you worried me!'
Harry hugged her back.
'If he does try anything funny, call me and I'll knock him sideways if you don't first.'
She laughed in relief. 'I will.'

oOo
The sun set slowly behind the Manor, bleeding colour across the low clouds. A few late Winter birds floated by on the evening currents, no doubt seeking a warm place to roost. The cloud was due to thicken later on and set down a few more inches of crisp snow. Hermione liked the Winter well enough but she was already beginning to miss the open blue Summer sky. Living under this pall of grey for three months of the year felt so restrictive.
She'd been poring over the translation and her equation all day. The latter was now three pages long, stuck together with sellotape. She always kept it unfolded on the desk to remind her of her purpose and in case a stray snippet of inspiration should fly through her head. She was almost tired enough to call it a day. She considered a long, hot bubble bath and then a return to her favourite comfortable library chair for an evening of light reading when her eyes went suddenly wide. She gaped at the page.
'Oh my God,' she whispered, as she flicked her wand at her cypher. Two swirling ink symbols rose off the parchment and switched places. 'Oh my God! How could I have been so stupid!'
Her voice echoed off the vaulted ceilings. A M Anonymous' secret well of information suddenly became readable. Hermione grinned. 'At last!' she squealed.

oOo
Hermione woke sharply to the sound of glass breaking violently. Her heart pounded furiously as she slid out of bed as quietly as she could and snatched her dressing gown off the hook on the back of the door. She tied it tight and feeling muzzy, as though she had a migraine coming on, she left her room by wand light. The Manor was empty and dark. She saw no sign of a break in. There wasn't a fibre out of place. She didn't get the feeling of imminent danger. She tiptoed down the stairs, checking every so often over the bannister for movement in the shadows. Nothing. She began to relax a little.
The Manor came alive at night in a way it didn't during the day. The creaks and squeaks of ancient floorboards contracting, the scritching and scrabbling of rats. The odd urps and boinks of the heating system that echoed weirdly in the cavernous spaces.
The study door glowed around the edges, revealing little splintery nicks; slips of the carpenters hand. She pushed it open. Lucius sat slumped at his desk with his one good hand buried in the rumpled hair at his forehead. His wand hand was bleeding. Shards of broken glass refracted firelight on the desk. She could smell spilled Whisky. Adder watched from his basket in the corner, his crimson eyes half closed. Arrow twitched an ear and slept on. Hermione snatched up Lucius' broken hand with a sigh. He hissed in pain.
'Miss Granger,' he hissed. 'Do you mind.'
'Yes!' she snapped brusquely. 'I do! You almost gave me a heart attack. I thought someone was in the house.'
'Impossible,' he sniffed.
He gazed at her briefly with pink-rimmed eyes before he hid his face behind a curtain of platinum hair. His eyes were haunted by vulnerability. His fingers were too cold.
With a resigned sigh she cast a quick anaesthetic charm she'd learned from Lena. 'Honestly. Can't you take up boxing, or running or something? Please tell me I'm not living with a bin-bag personality.'
'Dare I ask?' he drawled. He sounded very tired.
Hermione grabbed his quill and trailing spots of black ink over her PJ bottoms, she transfigured it into a pair of tweezers. 'It means someone who bottles up all their emotions and then one day...they snap and murder someone.'
He smirked.
'Quite fitting.'
'That's not very comforting,' she said tightly as she cast a bright Lumos. She bent over his hand as she picked slivers of cut glass out of his flesh.
'Honestly, Ron used to do stupid things like this. You've obviously never heard of casting a shield charm and blasting everything inside it until you feel better! I mean, there's always Reparo, isn't there?'
'Miss Granger,' he said, as she transfigured a rolled bandage from an old parchment and wrapped it around his hand. 'You are quite the most unusual witch I've ever met.'
'I'm going to take that as a compliment,' she arched her own eyebrow. 'Now, if you don't mind I'm going back to bed. If you're going to have another temper tantrum please will you cast a Muffliato beforehand?'
Lucius leaned back in his chair. He gave her a short nod. He gazed at his bandaged hand like a man on a drug trip. His lips lifted in a tired, albeit slightly grateful little smirk.

TBC :)
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The Xeoforce Equation