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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
- 8
- 9
- 10
A/N - Please bare with me on the next chapters. I haven't been well recently - nothing serious, just stuff that takes up time and makes it difficult to sit writing for long. Work will move a bit more slowly now as I've had a sudden attack of inspiration for another fandom. Don't worry, I have no intention of abandoning Xeoforce, but the muse does as the muse wants, lol! The next chapter will be up as soon as possible.

9 - Constrictor
The Winter sun hid her face behind a pall of thick fog. The clouds glowed gentle yellow. Two albino peacocks scratched at the resistant permafrost in their search for food. Their calls sent shivers of unease rippling down Hermione's back. She'd never liked the sound. The atmosphere around the estate was too close. The sky was heavy with coming snow. She and Lucius passed through the tingling wards and he stopped to lean on the gatepost, exhausted. Hermione caught him by his waistcoat.
'What's wrong? Lucius? Are you OK?'
Lucius gazed into her warm, brown eyes in surprise. He almost fell in. She loves me, he realised, abruptly. I can see it in her eyes. And I love her.
Despite his suspicions and their obvious mutual affection, the realisation that her feelings had become so real hit him with the force of a rampaging hippogriff.
'I know you don't like asking for help but you have to when you feel like this! Honestly, Lucius. I told you it was a bad idea to check out so soon!'
Hermione supported as much of his weight as she could. Lucius drew his wand from his cane and whispered the incantation to change the wards. Hermione felt a soft ripple of magic and understood that she could apparate inside the wards now.
'I'm quite aware that it was unwise to move but I've had quite enough of hospital food, hospitals beds and merlin forbid, hospital toilets. Do respect the boundaries I've given, my dear? I can't guarantee your safety should you try to breach the anti-apparition wards on the private rooms.'
'I'm flattered by your trust in me,' Hermione said drily. 'I can't imagine what you think I'm going to do. Make off with your gold bullion in the night?'
'I'm rather more concerned that you'll apparate into me,' he said.
Hermione disapparated with her arms around him. They appeared at the top of the second floor staircase. Lucius gazed around. The Manor was still a mess of fallen pillars and though the stone dust had been carefully cleared away by the elves, the evidence of the fire, particularly on the ceiling, was obvious.
'My house,' he breathed in distress.
'I'm sorry,' Hermione said, feeling more than a bit guilty for her part in implicating him in this mess. She tried to look on the bright side. 'At least the fire didn't spread far. Look later. It's not going anywhere.'
Together they hobbled into his bedroom. A broad window faced the frozen lake. Fog lay heavy all over the estate, obscuring the distant forest and the silvery band of the river. Hermione longed more than anything to see the summer again. Winter always made her feel so trapped. Pensively, Lucius ran a loving hand down the windowframe where he found a nick in the varnish. He pushed his fingernail into it sullenly.
'This house has gone too long without my attention. I intended to reopen it. That seems rather unlikely now. Help me into bed, Kitten?'
He sounded so tired. That worried her. With a couple of spells, he was clothed in his silk PJ's. He almost collapsed into the clutches of his bed and tiredly drew the coverlet up to his waist. Hermione slumped on the edge.
'If you keep looking so ill, I'm going to call the Doctor.'
'I'm fine,' he said, with an edge of dangerous intent behind his voice.
Hermione sighed. 'I don't think Harry is going to solve our case.'
'Your faith in your best friend is quite inspiring,' he arched his trademark eyebrow.
'It's not Harry I doubt. It's the bloody Ministry and their stupid red tape! Honestly, he has to jump through hoops just to get a warrant...and the more influential the suspect, the higher the hoops! It's completely corrupt.'
Lucius' lips lifted in smug satisfaction. 'Gold can buy many things.'
'Some of us rely on doing the right thing.'
'And some of us don't.'
She sighed expressively. 'I can't help but think...if we only had a cure for Mactoduplex, he wouldn't be nearly so hard to subdue. We'd have the upper hand. This can't continue forever. We have to do something if we ever want to live normals lives again.'
'I would say...if anyone can do it, it's you,' he grasped her hand affectionately.
Hermione hid a smile. Lucius found her sudden shyness very endearing.
'I don't know if I can. But right now, it's the only decent plan I have. Facing him head on hasn't exactly worked out well for us so far.'
'Quite. Kitten, perhaps we ccould talk about this later? I'd like an uninterrupted nights sleep.'
'You've got to promise to call me if you start feeling ill again,' she fixed him with a glare that suggested she was resistant to his Malfoy charm where his health was concerned. 'Tightness, pain, anything.'
'If you're so concerned, perhaps you should stay and tend to me,' he said slyly.
'Or I could just send Bobbly,' she deadpanned.
The latch clicked as she left him. He mused that he only needed to cough and she'd come running. He felt curiously...loved. It was a very vulnerable feeling. He didn't recall ever feeling it with Narcissa. Certainly they'd always tried to make the best of their situation but he never ached for her. Never burned for her.

oOo
Lucius stood at the first floor bannister where Fairwater's Mactoduplex-enhanced magic had decimated the fine stonework. The alcoves were empty of their statues. It felt desolate and violated. No longer completely his. He leaned heavily on his cane. Despite the Doctor's advice and Hermione's nagging, he was out of bed with no real desire to rest anymore.
'Bobbly,' Lucius noted that Bobbly had lost some weight. He couldn't think what to do about it, unless she came to him to ask for help. 'Why has an architect not been summoned?'
'He can't come until Wednesday,' Hermione supplied. She ascended the tower steps with an armful of books, 'He has a contract in Spain.'
'Did you even attempt to bribe him?'
'No,' Hermione sighed. 'Of course not. It took a month of Sundays to even find the paperwork in that mess of a filing system you have the nerve to call an office. Honestly, Lucius, for a businessman you're not very well organised!'
He snorted. 'Why do I always manage to find what I need then? Perhaps you just don't understand my logic.'
Hermione arched an eyebrow.
'So you were idle in my absence then?' he enquired of Bobbly coolly. The elf wrung her hands anxiously. She'd changed since Misty's death. She was quieter and more withdrawn. She refused sick leave due to bereavement, preferring to stay busy despite Hermione pleading with her to accept her Master's kindness. Perhaps Bobbly sensed it was Hermione, rather than Lucius, behind the offer. Old habits certainly did die hard.
'Lucius, go back to bed,' Hermione set the books down. 'I have everything I need to keep the staircase safe until it can be properly fixed.'
'If we lose the staircase-' his chilly voice carried the hint of a threat.
'We won't,' she insisted.
To his back she muttered; 'Not like it'd matter if you had to pay for a new one anyway.'
'It's my heart that's struggling, Kitten, not my ears!' he called over his shoulder.

oOo
Lucius stood at the Morning Room window. The clouds had finally parted that morning and the sun streamed in. It shone through his platinum hair and caught on the silver of his snakes-head cane. Just the sight of finer weather lifted his spirits. Absently, he rubbed his breastbone. He felt like a prisoner in his own house, confined to a few steps this way or that. He didn't dare attempt apparition, not even inside the estate. He was too proud to admit that incarceration, illness and bad publicity had left him unwilling to go far without his diminutive escort.
'Please tell me that isn't hurting,' Hermione leaned on the doorframe, a book clutched close to her chest. 'You've been worrying it since breakfast.'
He stuffed his hand into the pocket of his robe.
'Lucius, you've got an entire library to distract you and I can't keep you in bed for more than an hour?' she gazed up disapprovingly.
'I'm tired of resting,' he said, a bit shortly.
'Well-' she sputtered. 'You really don't have a choice, do you?
She snatched him by his velvet arm before he could stride past her. 'Where do you think you're going!'
'Outside, at least,' he said. 'Before I run mad.'
'No. Absolutely not!' she blocked his way with her body.
'Really, my dear,' he drawled. 'Riding won't kill me.'
'No!' her voice finally rose in frustration. 'God, why are you so bloody stubborn! You're not going outside! You're going back to bed if I have to stupefy you and drag you by your feet!'
Lucius drew himself up to his full, lofty height and gazed imperiously down at her. Hermione folded her arms stubbornly, her wand at the ready between her fingers. She met his icy patrician stare and had the audacity to laugh at him.
'Something amuses you, does it?' he asked coldly.
'You do,' she was still smirking. 'If you don't want to end up back in St Mungo's, you really ought to listen to me.'
The confrontation ended abruptly as he snatched at his chest with a hiss that the Malfoy poker face couldn't hide. He went abruptly, completely white. Hermione snatched him out of the air as he collapsed and sank to the carpet under his weight.
'BOBBLY!' Hermione screamed. Her eyes filled up with tears as he struggled for his next breaths. She clutched him, his silver head in her lap. 'You bloody idiot!'

oOo
'I've explained to him that he needs to rest,' said Dr Grey. They stood outside Lucius' chamber. It was nearly evening. The peacocks had returned to the pine trees to roost and the smell of dinner wafter up from the kitchen where Bobbly would be working hard. Hermione was cold and it was nothing to do with the temperature inside the house.
'He almost died,' she folded her arms over her chest.
'His heart is straining. The Curse is causing his heart to beat too slowly. He won't consent to be moved. There's noone to override him. I'll sent round the clock care.'
Grey put both hands into his coat pockets.
'Exertion could kill him. We'll keep him sedated. I'll be back in the morning. If he becomes confused or complains of tightness or pain, Floo immediately.'
Hermione nodded. She felt like she'd walked into a nightmare. She pushed the door and padded softly into the bedroom. The drapes were drawn. It was almost dark inside. Lucius lay on his right side with his eyes closed. An odd, panicky feeling coiled in her guts. He'd wormed so far under her skin that she wanted to cry just thinking about the terrible danger he was in. She climbed into bed beside him and wrapped him in her arms. His eyelids fluttered. He sighed, weakly.
'Don't you dare give up on me now,' she choked out.
'Kitten,' he murmured. He grasped her wrist with failing strength and sighed in relief. She shivered deliciously and pressed closer, eager to enjoy his warmth. She knew it might not last.
'Frustrating,' he whispered. 'You're in my bed...and all I can do is...' he trailed away into sleep.
He didn't seem to feel her tears. They wet the black silk covering his back. Her grip tightened as she tried not to sob.

oOo
Days passed. Lucius barely moved except under an Ennervate to take the potions provided by the round-the-clock healers. His chest rose and fell evenly. Hermione spent hours watching him for any sign of distress. The silence gave her too much time to think and remember. Her grief for Gillian caught up with her and on its heels, Misty too. She cried far too often until she was puffy and exhausted. The silent house weighed heavy on her. It was too quiet.
Dr Grey visited often.
Hermione researched the Mactoduplex cure and began work on a new equation but she rarely left Lucius' chamber except to fetch more books. Bobbly brought up her meals and delivered Crookshanks to her. She needed the company. She dreamed vividly. Misty remained in stasis, awaiting a time when Lucius and Hermione could attend her funeral together.
Now and then Lucius woke for long enough to notice the warm, often damp presence nearby. She held his hand. Her silky hair tickled his jaw. She read to him. Sometimes it was a story from a favourite childhood book. He knew them from summers spent sequestered in the library, hiding from his Father.
He woke nearly a week later. The potions course was done. Colour had returned to his face. Dr Grey pulled Hermione aside and for once, he was wearing a reassuring smile. She felt her heart lighten and realised the burden of worry she'd been carrying.
'The curse is almost purged from his system now. He'll be tired and weak but the worst of the danger has passed. He'll need to eat regularly.'
She'd never heard news so good, not since she'd realised Voldemort was finally dead.

oOo
Lucius was weak but he didn't feel quite as bad as he'd imagined he would. His mouth felt like a bird had made a nest in it, pooped, and moved on without clearing up. He swung his legs out of bed. A tiny squeak from the door preceded a rush, a pair of hands and suddenly he was faced with a worried, beautiful girl.
'NO,' she pointed at the bed. 'Absolutely not. Get back in bed, right now!'
'Where's my wand?'
She summoned it for him and handed it over. It had rolled under the bed.
'I swear,' she said. 'If you don't get back into bed I'm going to body bind you.'
'Good luck,' he muttered.
Her lip trembled. He hissed in irritation and gestured to himself.
'I feel disgusting! Would a bath be out of the question, nurse?'
'Yes! Absolutely out of the question. You're still sick.'
'I haven't had this sort of pampering since the time I had the Dragon Pox.'
'I swear,' she leaned in close. 'I'll leave if you put yourself in danger again.'
He drew himself up to his full, impressive height but the effect was somewhat ruined by his tousled hair and baggy eyes. His gaze was chilly.
'I need a wash, woman! If I'd thought you were going to channel my Mother, I'd have kicked you out long ago.'
'I wouldn't need to if you'd care for your own health!' she snapped. 'A cleaning charm will have to be enough for you.'
Lucius unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off his shoulders. Her breath caught. By God, he was a beautiful man. Sculpted and muscular. His rich history was written into his skin in the form of scars. She flushed.
'Would you care to watch?' he murmured invitingly. She'd never seen him flirt like that. It stole her breath and made her helpless. He brushed past her on his way to the bathroom. She suddered, the apex between her legs suddenly wet and achy.
She hovered on the threshold. He slid his long fingers into the waistband of his pyjama bottoms and began to slowly pull them down. As his hips were revealed, Hermione spun away to press her back to the cool wall. Her face was on fire. She closed her eyes. She didn't want to see him like this. Like a carer or a nurse.
He padded around the tub and began to run the water. She caught a glimpse of his shapely backside as he tested the water and sank into it blissfully. His wand rested on the porcelain, within easy reaching distance.
'Clearly,' he drawled, to the almost shut door, 'your parents never taught you it'd rude to spy on people. Especially when they're naked.'
'You're a stubborn, stupid, snake!' she breathed.
'You're a bossy, overprotective girl,' he countered but it didn't have his usual venom. Water sloshed as he rested his wet forearm on the tub.
She fought back a tide of tears. She wanted to scream at him. She wouldn't reveal such a precious, delicate secret for the sake of an argument. Her silence was telling.
'Come and sit beside me, then,' he suggested. 'You can make sure I don't drown in my bathwater.'
When she didn't answer because of the lump in her throat, he played her again; 'I can wear a flannel, if you're shy.'
She sank to the floor outside the room and shoved her wand into her sock.
'The second you go quiet in there, I'm coming in no matter what you think of it.'
'I'll be very quiet then.'
'Lucius,' she finally breathed. 'Just...stop it. Stop it. Please.'
'Stop what, my dear?'
'You know what,' she snapped. 'Stop, because...'
'Because?' he asked sinuously. He ducked under the water and came up with soaking platinum hair draped around his shoulders.
Hermione put her head back against the wall with a little thump. When had she started to care? It was normal to care for a friend, wasn't it? But how could she class a man she'd snogged so passionately as a mere friend? She wanted it to be more. That was as insane as sitting outside the bathroom, nearly in tears because she was so worried he'd die in the tub.
And all the selfish, arrogant prick can do is goad me, she thought. I should hate him. He did this deliberately. Made me care...and now he's teasing me. The bastard.
She raked her hair back and put her head down on her knees.
'I've left the soap in the shower,' he bemoaned the lack of it.
'Then accio it.'
'But I'm so tired,' he said, pathetically.
'Lucius. Don't make me come in there. Please. I...I don't want to look at you...like this. I want it to be...special.'
The stress and torment of the last few weeks was finally catching up with her. Her eyes were full of tears. She didn't want him to see her cry. Then something flared in her chest like a flower finally offered light. It was love.
Lucius summoned the soap. It fell into the bath with a plop. His wand clunked hollowly as he set it back on the tabletop. She silently thanked the Gods for a bit of splashing. It hid her unsteady breaths. She listened to him bathe. She swore to herself that if he went quiet for even three seconds, she'd go in. He never went quiet after that.
She scrambled to her feet when he emerged. She was flushed with shame at sitting by the bathroom door like a little voyeur. His steely eyes roved over her messy hair and pink eyes. He could see she'd been crying.
'Just...get into bed, will you?' she said.
A dozen comments teemed, begging for release. At last, the lady asks. He stopped himself. He sensed it wasn't the time to tease her. She looked like a dry reed ready to snap.
She hid her face behind her hair and counted to ten to calm the raging ache in her chest and quell the burning tears.
'Kitten-' Offering her an embrace opened the floodgates. She buried her nose in his silky chest and sobbed in a way he'd never seen before. He had the feeling that it wasn't all to do with their silly little clashes. There was a hint of Gillian, of Misty, of Delamere in there too. He whispered sweet nonsense into her hair until she calmed down enough to decide she was ashamed of herself. She swiped at her eyes in that infuriating way Narcissa used to, trying to deny the presence of tears. As if she could. Her breathing hitched when she cried and gave her away.
'It wasn't my intention to make you cry,' he drew her towards the bed. She was a bit afraid he might refuse to rest if she didn't go with him.
The sheets smelled clean. Hermione knew Bobbly would gladly bring dinner on a tray if they asked. She cuddled under the duvet with her head on his chest and her arm resting idly on his belly. He twined her curls around his fingers. She could feel the muscles in his arm shifting gently. It sent a curl of hot desire through her core but she tried not to think about that. Not right now.
'I don't want you to die because you're too proud to lie in bed,' she sniffed.
'It's a risk, Kitten,' he murmured, his breath warm against the baby-fine, new hairs that grew at her parting. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. 'Not a guarantee.'
'Well, I don't want even a risk!'
'Of course not,' he laid a warm, dry kiss on her temple. 'I pay too well.'
She pushed away from him in a huff.
'Kitten-' he warned her in that voice he used to subdue elves and persuade Ministers to do his bidding. She paused. 'I admit. That was too far.'
'You really ought to practise the words, I'm sorry, Hermione,' she said unhappily. 'The longer I spend around you, the more you need them.'
'Touche,' he couldn't help but smirk. 'Please,' he added, patting the bed.
'That's a start,' she sighed and settled down again.

oOo
Hermione snatched up her wand from the nightstand and cast a weak Lumos to lend some relief from the night.
'Kitten?' came a sleepy murmur from under the pile of covers.
She leaned almost double at the edge of the bed. Her skin was sheened with sweat. She was trembling.
'Sorry,' she whispered. She could hear her own ragged breathing. 'I didn't mean to wake you. It was just a dream.'
Lucius wrapped a warm arm around her waist and pulled her down. He wrapped her in silky arms and waited for her breathing to settle.
'What was it about?'
'Hogwarts,' she whispered. She buried her face in his shoulder. 'The battle. Sometimes...I honestly don't want to even try going to sleep. I close my eyes and all I can see is Fred and Lavendar. Remus and Tonks. I know I'm lucky to be alive but I really don't feel lucky.'
Lucius traced the letters of the Mudblood scar on her arm. His own methods of humiliation were more subtle and versatile. He covered it with his hand, as though hiding it could make it go away.
'I had no choice,' he whispered to her hairline. 'If I'd refused...the Dark Lord would have killed Draco. You can't ask me to be sorry for saving my son.'
'I didn't ask!' she protested.
'You made me feel it,' he hissed. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. She knew there was more going on under his skin than he was willing to voice. 'How can you make me feel that?' He sounded more confused than angry.
'I never said I held you responsible,' she said softly. 'I know the position you were in.'
Lucius sighed a hot breath into her hair and closed his eyes.
'I'm sorry,' he whispered, all the same. She kissed his rough cheek gently. They fell silent. Before long he began to snore. Typical, she thought fondly. Even Purebloods snore.

oOo
'Well,' said a sleepy, posh voice next to her ear. 'Good morning, princess.'
'Majesty,' she murmured. She was cocooned in his silk sheets and very warm beside him.
'At last, the deference I deserve.'
'I'll give you what you deserve,' Hermione put her arm over her eyes to block out the light.
'You'd best wait until I'm recovered,' he said into her hair. 'It'd be unfortunate indeed if I shuffled off the mortal coil before the...ah...climax.'
'Do you really have to get up so bloody early?'
'I have business to attend to. Unlike some people.'
'You're not going anywhere,' she promised.
'Quite,' he agreed. 'I intend to work right here.'
She groaned and sat up. 'I suppose I should be grateful. The fact you're lively enough to tease me is reassuring.'
'The foul concoction to which I've been routinely subjected seems to have worked its magic,' he admitted, as Bobbly appeared to bring him his Daily Prophet and correspondence.
'Lucius,' she sat on his side of the bed and gave him a bossy look that Molly Weasley would be proud of. 'I want you to promise you won't do anything stupid. Can I at least go the library and trust you to stay in bed?'
Barbs swarmed on his tongue. He bit them back and gave her a curt nod.
'If you do,' she wheedled expertly. 'I'll try to hasten the architect for the grand staircase.'
'Bribery is most unbecoming in a lady,' he arched a brow. 'But very well. My father would turn in his grave is he saw the state of the Manor.'
He gave that due consideration. 'Perhaps I should leave it as it is.'
She couldn't help but laugh. 'I think you'd better get your chequebook out. He was in the Caribbean and I don't think he's going to want his holiday cut short.'
Lucius snorted. 'There's loyalty. Have Bobbly cancel his contract if he refuses to come and contact Gaspard Cuvier of Paris instead.'
Hermione gave him a nod. 'OK. Just...take it easy?'
'Certainly,' he agreed, as he uncapped his inkwell.

oOo
'I suppose he can set it back as it was?' Lucius enquired, when he'd managed a bath and dressed in clean pyjamas.
Monsieur Cuvier had in fact nearly had a conniption over the size and beauty of the Manor and would certainly have been delighted to bring his personal flair to bear.
'I think he was hoping you'd consent to strategically placed gargoyles,' Hermione reclined beside him, her book open on her belly.
'Certainly not,' Lucius sniffed. 'It'll be exactly as it was before.'
He set aside his lunch tray.
'At least you've got an appetite,' she commented. An eyebrow was all she got for her trouble.
'You make a rather diligent little interior designer, don't you? I'm sure that's not in your Ministry contract.'
Hermione folded her arms. 'What's a contract got to do with it? I'd help you just because we're friends.'
The trademark Malfoy smirk put in an appearance.
'Is that what we are?'
She flushed.
'I don't kiss my friends, my dear but as you like it.'

oOo
Hermione sat beside him in the study and pressed a beautifully wrapped gift into his hands.
'It's a bit late, I know,' she went pink. 'But Happy Christmas all the same.'
Lucius took out the book and ran his fingertips down the cover reverently. He smiled. She must have noticed his gardening periodicals and the various tomes he used to tend to his conservatory full of exotic species.
'I saw you look at it in the bookshop.'
'Thank you,' he breathed, against her cheek. He accio'd her gift and handed it to her.
'I was waiting for the right time to give it to you,' he said. Her squeal of delight was worth every knut. She threw her arms around his neck, almost knocking him over and whispered her thanks to his hair when she saw he had, in fact, purchased the potions book she'd craved and almost left behind.
Much later, they sat together, her feet on his lap, absorbed in their presents and content with company.

oOo
Lucius wasn't sleeping well, perhaps because he wasn't getting any exercise. Dr Grey came and went less frequently. A week passed by during which work began on the ceiling and a sculptor was hired to replace the missing statues.
The ash and soot were swiftly cleared away and the old, burned red carpet was slit into pieces and piled onto the drive to be vanished away for incineration. Green replaced it. Lucius had always preferred green.
Monsieur Cuvier hovered around his experts at the bottom of the stairs. He was a portly little man who knew all there was to know about stone. He was as enthusiastic as any artist in his element.
'I really don't think you should be up,' Hermione said, as Lucius approached her in the study.
'If I spend another hour in bed today I'll go mad,' he sniffed.
'That's what books are for, Lucius.'
'Much longer and I'll have read my way around the entire library!'
'Just promise me you'll be gentle with yourself.'
He poured himself a whisky and settled into his armchair.
'You know perfectly well that doesn't mix with your medication.'
'Yes, Mother,' he smirked. 'Kitten? Why is there a free elf waiting in the doorway?'
'Oh,' she had the decency to look a bit embarassed. 'I meant to tell you. I might have...found you and new housekeeper.'
Up went the eyebrow. His gaze turned chilly. She endeavoured to look innocent.
'What a clever little witch you are.'
'I honestly don't know what you're talking about. Trick has excellent references. His Mistress is gone...her estate dissolved and he was looking for work so it seemed sensible-'
Lucius folded his arms. She wasn't sure if he was more amused or irritated. In the end she shrugged and went to the window to gaze at the gardens.
'He's quite happy with the position,' Hermione added, a bit guiltily. 'You only need to agree to...pay him. A pretty normal condition of employment if you ask me.'
'Your fingers have found my purse strings already. I confess I'm hardly surprised.'
'That's bloody insulting! You know very well I've never asked you for a sickle!' She folded her arms a bit petulantly. 'Anyway. Five galleons a month will hardly kill you.'
'Come,' Lucius said. Trick clutched his little hat like a talisman against harm and inched closer.
'Trick work very hard. For his Mistress, he do all things. Cooking, cleaning, toileting-' squeaked the elf.
'I assure you the last won't be necessary here.'
Trick bowed again.
'Trick has lost his family. He would be honoured to serve the noble house of Malfoy.'
'I was thinking he could be your personal elf,' Hermione shrugged. 'Bobbly struggles with her sleep and her knees. I think she'd appreciate a quieter position.'
He set his glass down and sighed.
'Fine,' he nodded. 'Fine. If that's what it takes to make you happy,' he said to her.
'Thank you, Master Malfoy,' Trick bowed, but it was Hermione's little smile that felt like the true reward.

oOo
The stairs were almost finished and now only M. Cuvier, his assistant and a few lonely painters persisted, hanging from ropes and levitated platforms to finish the delicate ceilings. Lucius was ensconced in the library, a book of poetry open on his knee. He looked so sweet with his feet up on the sofa and his cane leaning near his elbow. Hermione slung her scarf onto the back and settled down beside him.
'I thought I might throw an extravagant affair,' he said softly, after a minute of playing with her curls. 'Would you care to squeeze into your ballgown again?'
'Squeeze?' he cast him a look. 'Would you care to squeeze into your waistcoat!'
'I won't need to,' he sniffed playfully. 'Can you hear what I can?' he sighed.
She listened. Cuvier didn't get on with the painter and that was putting it mildly.
'Yeah,' she nodded. She slid off his lap and straightened her clothes.
'I plead heart failure,' he put his head back somewhat dramatically. She was reminded of Draco playing up every little injury to get attention. That was probably where he'd learned it. 'Get your claws out, Kitten.'

oOo
On the twenty-fifth of January, Lucius finally took a walk to the edge of the lake, wrapped in his warmest cloak. The sky was grey and heavy. There wasn't a sliver of high blue to be found, nor any direct sunlight. It felt oppressive and he began to wish for a long holiday in a warmer climate. A freezing wind stirred his loose hair and sensitized his scalp. He breathed in the fresh air and watched the swans pad back and forth on the ice.
The Manor was finally free of builders, experts, apprentices and decorators. He finally felt as if he could settle.
His walk back was slow.
Hermione lay on the sofa in the study. Her open book had fallen into her lap. The fire raged behind her, slowly drying her recently washed curls. There was soft blanket on her knees. He guessed one of the elves had put it there when she fell asleep. The firelight lent her beautiful hair tinges of liquid bronze and gold. He perched beside her, delighted by the way her breast rose and fell. Her index finger twitched in her sleep as though she was dreaming of turning the page. He smiled.
It was so hard to remember a time before her. He wasn't sure he wanted to. She hummed in soft complaint as he shed his cloak and gathered her into his embrace.
'Lucius-' she sighed, unguardedly. He buried his hand in her silky hair. She was so warm. So small, too. A perfect fit. She wore an adorable, sleepy pout that looked so innocent on her face. 'Cold!' she whimpered. 'Blanket!'
He pulled his cloak over them. She slept another half hour, drooling on his shoulder before he eyelids finally flickered.
'What time is it?' she murmured.
'Daytime, my dear,' he teased her gently. With a fingertip, he played with the hollow between her collarbones. He wanted to touch all of her. He wanted her to want that too. He wanted to be the first to see her gorgeous eyes widen in surprise, watch her gasp as he filled her body intimately.
'You're warm,' she buried her face in him affectionately.
'And rather wet, thanks to you,' he stroked the smooth back of her neck. She sent tingles of electric desire through him.
'You're welcome,' she grinned. 'Monsieur Cuvier didn't want to leave! I think he's in love with this house.'
'It had better be only the house,' Lucius cupped her soft face.
'I can assure you I have no romantic aspirations of M. Cuvier.'
'I sink 'ee may 'ave some for yoo?' Lucius smirked. She giggled.
'I just had a dream about you.'
Just the smell of her skin was enough to comfort him.
'Really? Was it innocent?' he asked.
She nodded. 'Completely innocent.'
'What a shame.'
'You made me take a bath but then you wouldn't get in with me. The water was cold.'
'You poor thing!' he said, with feigned concern. 'Would you like me to rectify that?'
'I already had a bath today,' she teased.
'Well another won't hurt, my dear. You won't wash away.'
She reached up to run her fingers through his hair. His eyelids fluttered closed in the way they were wont to do when he was enjoying himself immensely.
'That's so good, Kitten,' he sighed.
His fingers tightened on her waist. Eventually, his hand wandered to her thigh. He coaxed her leg over his and rolled so that she was almost underneath him. She'd barely noticed his smooth manoevre until it was too late. He kissed the hollow between her collarbones and gazed at her with steel grey eyes framed by hair messed by her attention.
'Finally we have some peace,' he murmured.
His lips left a hot, wet trail that chilled swiftly even this close to the fire. She shivered when he closed his lips and teeth around her earlobe. She squirmed to get closer but he had a way of keeping her away from the most important bits. He teased her with a tantalising brush of lips until she squeaked her protest.
The eventual kiss was all the sweeter for his teasing. She melted into him, willingly melting into his thorough sharing of lips and hearts until heat bloomed in her core, teasing her with possibility.
She tried arching, hoping to catch some part of him – a hip, a thigh, anything – against her core, but he was far too savvy to allow it.
'Ah, ah, ah,' he said against her mouth. 'We mustn't play with fire.'
'Well...maybe I want to get burned.'
'Nobody likes getting burned,' he closed the distance was the intensity of the last word and rubbed sinuously against her, catching her clit with a little shift. The pressure was gone again before she could really enjoy it. She moaned in frustration.
'Patience,' he said, his teeth against her jaw. 'Or you'll tempt me into more than you want.'
'Or more than your ticker can handle,' she pressed a hand to his heart.
She gazed at him with eyes bursting with love. He wasn't sure whether to run screaming or swear undying devotion. He settled on silence, for now, and a smile that spread from his face to hers. The feeling of unbreakable connection washed through him, a tug on his heart strings.
She kissed him softly, her tentative exploration all the more arousing because she obviously wasn't very experienced. It was driving him crazy. She grew a bit bolder with every attempt. He'd almost hexed the painter just because he was sick of waiting for the next time he could catch her alone. He'd actually started to miss the taste of her mouth.
You're falling for her, an inner voice advised. You're falling, and you're falling hard.
'Would you do me the honour of wearing something very special to dinner tonight?'
'That depends,' she grinned. 'Is it a tea-towel?'
'Little minx,' he smiled fondly. 'Don't tempt me.'
Her lips were plump an pink from the kiss that he wasn't sure how long he could wait before he had to taste them again. She was too comfortable, too warm, too beautiful. He wanted to scoop her up, take her upstairs and deflower her thoroughly.
Patience, Lucius. Practise what you preach.
'Of course I will,' she smiled.
His insides curled in delight. Narcissa would have wanted to see it first. She'd never agree to wear just anything, and especially not without checking that it flattered her figure.
He managed to tear himself from contact with her warm, firm little body and tugged her gently to her feet. She wrapped her arms around him and put her head on his chest. He found he couldn't muster the desire to move another step. As she snaked her clever little fingers into the baby fine hairs at the base of his scalp, he wondered what she'd do the first time. Would she be shy or brazen, innocent or confident? Had the Weasley rat touched her, given her more of an education than she let on?
Not judging by the way she kisses, he thought. Would she moan, ask for more? Would she cry? Gods, if she cried, he'd despise himself.
'What're you thinking?' she smiled at him. 'Your eyes go all glazed when you think.'
He slid his hand into hers and drew her to the stairs.
'Nothing,' he lied. No sense frightening the girl.

oOo
Hermione held the shimmering silver-blue gown up to the full-length mirror in his suite. With her feet planted in the deep pile rug that her hands around a small fortune she shook her head. Was it opulence, or did he simply not care what cost what?
'You must be joking,' she stared at him. 'You actually want me to wear this? It must be worth a fortune.'
'It'll suit you,' he snagged her by her waist. It was still early enough in their relationship that he delighted in every chance to touch her for the novelty of her willing warmth. 'It's silversilk. Charmed, naturally, to fit the wearer. Something of a family heirloom.'
She laid it gently over the back of the nearby chair and wrapped her arms around him. He went warm.

oOo
Lucius tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. At his feet, Adder snoozed with one eye half closed. Lucius could feel the distant, languid thud of his heartbeat. Bobbly opened the door and gestured inside the entire household staff. It wasn't until they were all inside that he moved, like a statue given sudden life.
'Those who want it are free. I'll pay each who stay five galleons a month and provide room and board.'
Lucius caught Bobbly with both hands as she fainted.
'It seems as though I'm releasing you from my service. I'm not. Times have changed.'
Bobbly chose that moment to come round.
'Master...frees us?' spoke up their elven stablehand. 'We can serve him...if we wish it?'
'Yes,' Lucius finally sighed. 'Precisely. Under a contract of employment which you may elect to leave at any time.'
'Bobbly will serve, sir! Bobbly has nowhere else to go!'
'I could find you another position, if you wanted it.'
'No, Master!' Bobbly threw herself at his feet. 'Bobbly will stay with Master Malfoy!'
'Fetch the trunk from my wardrobe, then,' he told her.

oOo
Hermione was bent over her Mactoduplex cure research when the tiniest sound alerted her to company. She set down her quill, aware that Trick was nearby, judging by the brightly coloured vest in her peripheral vision. It wasn't Trick.
'Bobbly?' Hermione started. 'My God, what's happened! He can't have! He didn't!'
'Master is making free elves of us all,' Bobbly teared up. 'Bobbly will stay, Miss. Bobbly will always serve the noble house of Malfoy.'
Hermione rounded the corner on her way to the study and burst in. Sixteen elves stood in elf-sized clothes. There wasn't one dirty pillowcase in sight. Hermione laughed.
'You've finally gone mad!' she declared. Lucius gazed up, half insecure, half smug. She suddenly felt so proud of him. He's changed, she realised.
'Actually, my dear, I think I'm finally seeing clearly.'
'You...dismissed...your entire staff?' she stammered.
'No,' he cut through the miniature throng to take her by the waist. 'Most have agreed to stay. Under...different...working conditions. A gift, Kitten. Long overdue, for which they have you to thank.'
'I can't believe it,' she finally said. 'Honestly, I never thought I'd live to see the day you'd do this!'
Lucius slipped his hand gently into hers and squeezed.
'Are you happy, my dear?'
'Yes,' she breathed.
'Miss?' said Trick, who was already a free elf but who'd come to enjoy the sight all the same. He held out his hand to show her five galleons and one by one, the others did the same.
Hermione threw her arms around Lucius' neck and hugged him.
'You must promise me you won't gloat,' he teased.
'Not one word,' she shook her head. 'I swear. Not one.'

TBC soon!
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The Xeoforce Equation