Lucius Malfoy stood in the entry hall of Malfoy Manor and watched as everything he owned was stolen from him. Forced into passivity, the barest tensing along his jawline was his only acknowledgment of the Aurors encircling the participants in this official act.
Lucius flicked a glance at Severus Snape, who stood beside him. Severus appeared relaxed, but his arms were crossed, hands tucked into his sleeves. Lucius had no doubt that the handle of Severus' wand was resting firmly in the palm of his hand, awaiting the first sign of trouble.
Across the hall, John Dawlish, the current Minister for Magic, unrolled a scroll and read aloud. "In accordance with the Muggle-born Reparations Act of 2001, all monies and property both real and personal owned by Lucius Malfoy, Pureblood, are hereby seized in their entirely by the Ministry of Magic. Ownership of those same monies and properties both real and personal are forthwith transferred, with all associated rights, privileges, and responsibilities, to Hermione Granger, Muggle-born."
Dawlish allowed the scroll to close with a loud snap and turned to the young woman standing beside him.
"Congratulations, Miss Granger," Dawlish said. "You're now a very wealthy woman."
"Thank you, Minister. Your assistance has been more helpful than you know." Hermione gestured at their surroundings. "I want to be perfectly clear on the details; all of this is now my property?"
Dawlish nodded. "Yes."
A dull roar was building in Lucius' ears, and it felt as if ice was forming in his veins. He ground his teeth together, his fingers tightening on his cane. Instantly, Severus shifted his stance, subtly pivoting his body more fully between Lucius and the Aurors.
"And I can do whatever I like with my property?" Hermione persisted.
Again Dawlish nodded, but his expression had turned faintly puzzled.
"I can sell it? Give it away?" Hermione paused and gave Dawlish a pointed look. "Burn it to the ground?"
At that, Dawlish's face cleared, and then he smirked. "You can do anything you like with it. It's yours in every legal sense, and no court can say otherwise."
Hermione smiled with a near tangible air of satisfaction.
"Now, Miss Granger, we'll escort Malfoy and Snape from your property." Dawlish obviously relished making that statement. "They're trespassing."
Hermione tilted her head as if in consideration. "Actually I'd prefer they remain. I have a few things I want to say to them."
"Under the circumstances, that's unwise." Dawlish narrowed his eyes. "I shouldn't have to remind you that they were Death Eaters. You should let us toss—"
"I appreciate your concern," Hermione interrupted firmly, "but I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
Dawlish's expression soured. "Then whatever happens is on your head, Miss Granger." He glared once more at Lucius and Severus, and then he and the Aurors trooped out.
When the entryway door closed behind them, Hermione turned to face Lucius and Severus.
"Since I'm officially the lady of the manor now," she spread her arms wide, "it's only polite that I offer you a cup of tea."
Lucius tried to speak but could only produce a peculiar choking sound in the back of his throat.
Hermione's arms dropped to her sides, and her brow furrowed. "Are you all right? You're terribly pale." She stepped closer and peered up at Lucius before turning to Severus. "Is he all right?" she asked.
Severus frowned. "I think he's having more difficulty with the situation than we anticipated."
Hermione sighed. "You knew this would happen, Lucius. Everything is going according to plan. Just keep reminding yourself of that."
"Knew this would happen," Lucius forced out through white lips. His facial muscles felt frozen. "According to plan." He drew a shuddering breath and began to shiver.
Severus looked alarmed. "We'll add brandy to the tea, I think."
"Right." Hermione spun slowly, looking at the various doorways leading off the entry hall. "Erm, which way?"
Severus snorted and muttered, "Lady of the manor, indeed," then grasped Lucius by the arm and towed him toward the library.
~*~
One fortified cup of tea later and Lucius had stopped shivering. His breathing eased, and warmth crept back into his veins. Although he hadn't detected any difference in the taste, he suspected Severus had slipped a Calming Draught into the drink.
Seated next to Severus on a brocade settee, Hermione nodded in approval. "Your colour has improved. If you're feeling up to it, I'd like to get our business out of the way now. There's no point in waiting until the last minute."
Before Lucius could speak, Hermione took a small square of parchment from the pocket of her robes and tapped the paper with her wand. Instantly, it unfolded into a thick sheaf of documents. She removed a pair of wire-rimmed reading glasses from her other pocket and put them on.
Lucius lifted a delicate eyebrow. "We've already conducted all the negotiations. Is there something more?"
"No, but I don't want any misunderstandings," Hermione answered. "I'm only doing this because Severus considers you a friend and asked me to help. It's also the perfect way to tweak Dawlish's nose. He's barely competent as Minister, and his motives are utterly transparent. He only pushed this law through in an attempt to gain Muggle-born votes. He knows he's in danger of losing the election to Alastor Gumboil." Her mouth twisted in disgust. "Allowing me first choice of the seized properties has nothing to do with reparations and everything to do with currying favour. He thinks I'll put in a good word for him with Harry."
"Potter's endorsement would carry a great deal of weight with the general public." Lucius carefully kept his tone neutral.
"Yes, I know, but this is the wrong way to go about getting it. Besides, since there are more Muggle-borns than Purebloods, the entire law is nothing more than a legalized pyramid scheme. Sooner or later it will collapse like a house of cards." Hermione rifled through the parchments.
"Dawlish is counting on the election being over long before that happens," Lucius pointed out.
Hermione gave a short exasperated sigh. "None of this would have happened if Kingsley Shacklebolt had chosen to remain Minister for Magic."
"Kingsley detested being Minister." Severus shrugged. "I don't blame him for quitting. It wears on you, spending day after day at a job you hate."
An oddly plaintive note had crept into Severus' voice, and Hermione's demeanour instantly softened.
She leaned into Severus' side. "Well, your apothecary is a resounding success, and I promise that you'll never have to go back to teaching." She turned her attention back to Lucius, and her gaze hardened perceptibly. "But I'm not actually doing any of this for you."
"Is she always so plainspoken?" Lucius looked at Severus.
Severus smirked. "Yes, I find it refreshing."
Hermione pointedly cleared her throat. "As per our agreement, I will retain ownership of all of this," she waved a hand around in an encompassing gesture, "for twenty-four hours. That will give the incompetents at the Ministry ample time to file the paperwork associated with the Muggle-born Reparations Act. At the end of those twenty-four hours, I'll hand the majority of it to you. However, before my ownership lapses, I'll deposit five percent of your total gross worth into the coffers of the newly created War Survivors' Assistance Fund. Severus and I will administer the fund far more efficiently than this ridiculous Reparations Act."
"Five percent?" Lucius protested. "We settled on two."
"No, you offered two percent. I asked for ten." She looked at him steadily over the rim of her spectacles. "You're fortunate that I agreed to five. Legally, I could take it all." She flipped over another sheet of parchment. "I'll also set aside sufficient funds to cover the taxes I'll incur due to this nonsense."
"First the divorce and now this." Lucius sighed. "I seem doomed to lose money to women this year."
Hermione shrugged. "Again, consider yourself fortunate. Unlike Narcissa, I'm giving most of it back."
~*~
Dinner was take-away, since Hermione refused to allow the house-elves to prepare their meal. She Flooed into Diagon Alley herself, grumbling that most restaurants failed to send everything ordered if they were allowed to deliver. Whilst she was gone, Lucius and Severus indulged in a pre-prandial gin and tonic.
"Your relationship with Hermione seems serious." Lucius gave a wry smile. "I suppose it's only to be expected. You've always had a penchant for Gryffindor women."
Severus' long fingers tightened on his glass, and his voice went cool. "Hermione isn't Lily."
"No, she isn't, and don't get your hackles up. Lily Evans would never have deigned to help me, even if you had begged her on bended knee. Yet you merely had to ask Hermione, and it was done. She and I may never be fast friends, but I approve of the way she treats you." Lucius smirked at the surprise on Severus' face. "How have Hermione's friends reacted to your relationship?"
"After their initial shock, surprisingly well." Severus took a sip of his drink. "I suspect it's helped a great deal that they've moved on with their lives. Potter has married and is expecting his first child. Weasley is busy with that joke shop and is engaged to Lavender Brown. They don't need Hermione as they needed her in the past." He hesitated before admitting, "Hermione thrives on colour-coded charts, time tables, and attention to minutia, but to be truly happy, she requires someone to manage."
"And you don't mind being managed? I feel compelled to point out that others have tried it with varying levels of success," Lucius said delicately.
Severus snorted. "Did you just compare Hermione to Albus Dumbledore and the Dark Lord?"
"Well, I was hoping you wouldn't draw such a direct parallel, but yes."
"She can be a whirlwind," Severus admitted, "but she leaves order in her wake rather than chaos, something that Dumbledore and the Dark Lord failed to do, and since Hermione has no interest mastering in the Dark Arts, the comparison falls flat."
Lucius pursed his lips slightly and decided that discretion demanded he remain silent rather than point out that Hermione had no need to master the Dark Arts. She'd mastered Severus.
~*~
After dinner, they returned to the library where Lucius and Severus played Wizarding chess whilst Hermione wandered through the stacks. Occasionally, they heard her muffled oohs and ahs of appreciation.
"You have some wonderful books," she called out from the direction of the Charms section. "If it weren't for Severus, I'd renege on our agreement and keep them all for myself."
"Then I'm grateful to Severus," Lucius said, moving a rook to capture a pawn. "Some of those books are irreplaceable."
They were just finishing their second game when Hermione came out of the stacks. She stood watching them until the game was over, and then said, "It's getting late. Shall we get ready for bed?"
Lucius looked up, surprised. "You're staying? You're both welcome, of course, but I didn't have any of the guestrooms prepared."
"That's not necessary." Hermione looked into Severus' eyes for a long moment, then glanced at Lucius with a mischievous smile. "As lady of the manor, Severus and I should stay in the master bedroom, don't you think?"
Lucius was dumbfounded. "You're evicting me from my own bedroom?"
Hermione tilted her head and looked down at Lucius. "Not necessarily." She drew Severus to his feet, then turned and leaned back against Severus' body. She entwined her fingers with Severus' and held out their joined hands to Lucius. "Not if you join us."
Lucius looked up at Hermione, her expression was calm, but her chest rose and fell rapidly with her quickened breath. He glanced up at Severus, and for an instant, he saw a look of intense longing before Severus' expression went blank. Lucius had the impression that Severus was steeling himself for rejection.
Lucius reached out and grasped their entwined hands. "How could I refuse such an intriguing invitation?"
~*~
Lucius awoke alone, the tangled sheets and the musky scent of sex still lingering in the air vivid testaments of the previous night's activities. He stretched, wincing at the slight burn of overtaxed muscles. It had been years since he'd participated in a ménage à trois and even longer since he'd participated in such an arrangement with another male.
As Lucius recalled the night's events, he realized that he'd barely touched Hermione. Other than the brief feel of her warm mouth around his cock and her cool hands pushing him closer to Severus, the majority of the interaction had been between either Hermione and Severus or between the two men. He remembered Hermione's eyes glittering with satisfaction as she'd watched them together, and he gave a mental shrug. Voyeurism was a pleasure unto itself.
He rose from the rumpled bed, bathed and dressed, then went down to seek a late breakfast. The delicious scent of coffee drew him to the dining room where he found Hermione drinking coffee and reading the Daily Prophet. Filled chafing dishes waited on a sideboard.
"Did you change your mind about allowing the house-elves to cook?" Lucius began to serve himself.
"No, but it was there when I came down." Hermione radiated disapproval. "It seemed wrong to waste food."
"Did Severus leave?" Lucius poured a cup of coffee, took his filled plate to the table, and sat across from Hermione.
"Yes, he had to open the apothecary." She folded the newspaper and offered it to him.
"Thank you, but no." Lucius shook his head. "I never read that rag until after I've eaten. It impedes digestion." He lightly buttered a piece of toast. "I understand that you had a hand in Severus' success in business. He told me he'd suffered from a dearth of customers until you gave Potter a bag emblazoned with the Snape Apothecary logo and then marched him up and down Diagon Alley until everyone had seen. Once people believed that the Saviour of the Wizarding World shopped there, they flocked to the shop." He gave her an approving nod. "Severus compared you to a force of nature. I think I agree."
Lucius took a sip of coffee, then asked, "May I speak frankly?"
Her expression became one of shuttered caution. "Yes."
"Severus is twenty years older than you, and while he has his own appeal, he's not the most handsome of men. He's not wealthy, and he's had an eventful past. He cares a great deal for you. You don't seem the flighty type, but if you aren't completely serious in your relationship with him, you could cause a great deal of harm."
"Since you've spoken frankly to me, I'll return the favour." Hermione's voice turned cool. "I love Severus, and I intend to marry him. If he doesn't propose to me, then I'll propose to him. Your fears that I might throw him over for a younger, wealthier or more handsome man are unwarranted. Severus is intelligent, powerful, and when he loves, he loves with all of his heart. He's never been truly appreciated by those who should have cared for him, but those days are over."
"And the encounter last night?" Lucius asked carefully.
"Is that why you're concerned?" She rolled her eyes. "Your ego is very large if you think I'm using Severus to get to you. In a room only a few feet from here, you watched whilst I was tortured by your insane sister-in-law, and you attempted to turn me over to Voldemort. I haven't forgotten that, you know."
"It was a war," Lucius shrugged. "At the time, I did what I had to do in order to protect my family, and I won't apologize for that. But it does make the encounter all the more puzzling. Whilst very enjoyable, Severus would never have instigated it on his own."
"Well, you're right about that much." Hermione shook her head. "One night after a good meal and an even better bottle of Pinot Noir, Severus confessed that he finds you beautiful and that he's been attracted to you for years, but he values your friendship too much to risk making an unwanted advance." She looked Lucius over with a detachment he found unsettling. "He had no idea what I was planning, but as soon as I made the suggestion, I knew I was right to do it. You are attractive, and since it was only sex, it was easy enough to make that old dream come true for him. Severus deserves to be happy, and I'll do anything within my power to make certain he has whatever he desires."
"Then it would behove us to find a way to get along," Lucius said. "Severus is my friend, and if you're to be his wife, he would certainly desire that we find a way past our differences."
She frowned but nodded reluctantly. "My bloodline hasn't changed."
"I've had accept that I was wrong about the issue of blood purity. Power and how one wields it has little to do with bloodlines." The words were like ashes in his mouth, but they were true. "I apologize for any wrongs I inflicted upon you in the past."
"I want to accept," she said softly. "But..."
"But it's difficult to forgive," Lucius finished for her, and she nodded.
"I understand," he said. "I don't forgive easily either. And there's still the issue of what happened in the drawing room." He fell silent for a moment. "I do have a suggestion about that, though."
"Yes?" she prompted.
Lucius took a deep breath, and as he spoke, Hermione nodded her agreement.
~*~
Hermione stood white-faced just inside the door of the drawing room. She surveyed the room slowly. "Is everything the same?" she asked. "It looks the same."
"The chandelier has been replaced," Lucius said. He was careful to keep his tone noncommittal. "The original chandelier was destroyed."
"Yes," Hermione said, her voice faint. "I had cuts from the glass and cracked ribs from where it fell on me. Or maybe they were from Bellatrix kicking me."
"I'll only mention three things before you begin," Lucius said. "First, that's a load-bearing wall." He pointed to the wall on the right of the room. "You should leave that intact unless you want this section of the manor falling down on our heads. Second, the portraits are of family members and are irreplaceable, but they are yours to do with as you see fit. And third, I'd prefer you didn't use Fiendfyre unless you're certain you can control it."
"I don't intend to use magic. At least, not at first." Hermione stepped forward and lifted a vase from a side table. She flung it across the room, smiling when it crashed into an armchair, smashing the vase and overturning the chair.
Several of the portraits protested loudly, but Lucius merely ordered them silent.
Hermione moved around the room, breaking glass, overturning furniture and ripping fabric to bits with her bare hands. As she worked her way toward the area where she'd been tortured by Bellatrix, she was making a keening sound, although Lucius suspected she wasn't aware of it. The damage mounted, and by the time she'd reached the centre of the room, the keening had become an enraged shriek.
Lucius followed behind her, discretely casting protective spells to prevent sharp shards of glass or porcelain from flying back to injure her as she devastated the room.
When she'd destroyed everything she could manage by hand, she pulled out her wand. Eyes narrowed to slits, Hermione used Diffindo to rip the dark purple wallpaper to shreds, and the large gilded mirror over the fireplace was raised from the wall and flung to the floor in a spectacular explosion of glass.
Lucius winced as her furiously shouted Confringo blasted the ornate marble fireplace into rubble, and methodically, she reduced the remaining furniture to very expensive kindling. She even tore the carpeting from the floor, causing Lucius to do a series of quick sidesteps to remain on his feet.
Finally, it stopped. Hermione stood, panting from the physical exertion and the expenditure of magical energy. She looked around the room and nodded to herself in satisfaction. The only things that remained untouched were the portraits and the chandelier.
He raised an eyebrow inquisitively and pointed to the chandelier.
Hermione huffed out a laugh and shook her head. "No, it's safe. It wasn't here then."
Lucius turned slowly and shook his head at the wreckage that had once been his drawing room. "Order from chaos, indeed," he murmured. "I'd say my comparison was spot on." He raised his voice, "Hermione, when you become the next Dark Lord, promise me that you'll dispense with all the bowing and scraping. I'm not certain my knees would hold up to it again."
"I beg your pardon?" Hermione asked, confused.
"Just what in the hell is going on here?" a voice snapped from behind them.
Both Lucius and Hermione spun around to see Severus in the doorway, scowling.
"Severus!" Hermione exclaimed. "We weren't expecting you."
"Clearly not," Severus said, frowning. "I came by to see if you wanted to go out to an early lunch, and I find you and Lucius in a war zone. Have you been duelling?"
"Of course not," Hermione answered quickly. "We were just... Erm, well..." Her voice trailed away, and she looked at Lucius.
"We were merely observing the letter of the law, Severus," Lucius finally said. "A bit of reparation between friends. Isn't that right, Hermione?"
Lucius was treated to his first genuine smile from Hermione. It warmed her eyes, lit her heart-shaped face, and almost made it possible to overlook her atrocious hair.
"Yes, that's exactly right," she agreed. "A bit of reparation between friends."
The End
