Chapter 1: Damage
DISCLAIMER; HP belongs to JKR. The storyline and all new characters, new developments are my intellectual property.
This is a partially developed story, probably easy to finish in a few chapters. I will judge the interest and decide. I will be publishing a few more that are partially done, and I will do one of them.
If you like this, let me hear from you.
This is a ff featuring, a mistery with LM, Hermione Granger, DM, and APucey. Not necessarily a triad or poly-amore. I haven't decided. Only that Lucius is a main player.
The Perfect Job
Getting her Dream Job
Many applicants would have given up by now, but not her. She needed this job, it was perfectly suited for her. Imagine to be able to research the origins of magic, and why Muggles would have sporadic shows of the same.
"I will speak to my father," her lover had suggested, but she had turned him down.
"No, but thanks, I have to do it on my own."
He yawned bored. He wanted to have sex, and she was damn hot. He hadn't come to listen to her whining about her career.
Hadn't he told her, time and time again, that his wife wouldn't work. There would be plenty for her to do; namely, keeping him happy, working on keeping her body as it was today, in top condition for his pleasure. She would need time to buy sweet nothings to keep his interest going
In his family there were no mistresses, too dangerous to have children out wedlock. The day he married the temporary sterility would be removed. It could get boring, but he would try.
The time to be smart and competitive had passed. It had been suitable when they were teenagers, and later at the University where they had fallen in love.
Hmm, fallen in love, that was a loaded one. Better said, where he had, cunningly, stolen her from two bodyguards, and taken her from under his best friend.
No, she didn't need to work; that would breed independence and would put her in the middle of the sea of hungry sharks. He didn't need that headache.
Oh, bother, for his intellectual stimuli, he had his friends, and the Wizard only clubs. But until he had not legally married, the most sought after the witch in the entire Wizarding world, No. 1 pick for three years in a row, it was best to be in his best behavior and keep up the pretense.
He couldn't even let Pucey see his true face because he was her marriage broker, and he wanted her as well. Indeed, he should know, he was his best friend.
What made her unique was not only the number one status, no it wasn't. Who would had thought that she hid that body under the baggy clothes she wore and the Gryffindor robe?
By Eros, her body was perfection, not to mention her tight snatch, and besides her blood taint, and her wild hair, now entirely tamed and totally sexy; oh yes, she was as good as they came.
Indeed, she made the most suitable bride for Draco Malfoy. After all, he had the best of all, hence his obsession with her.
She would always be an eye-catching accessory, and stay beautiful as her mother and grandmother who were beauties on their age group; he had seen their pictures.
She would produce a most magical and suitable heir, on top of her natural talents in bed. She was his; her future had Malfoy written all over.
Enough for, "Oh love, where is you mouth, oh Merlin," his bollocks were inside her mouth, and thinking became a concept.
The next Day
"Yes father, she told me that I couldn't speak for her, but frankly it is interfering with my sex life. The time that we could be spending more pleasurable, the hours are wasted on her whining about her wanting to work.
"Preposterous don't you think? When have you ever heard of Malfoy bride working?"
While the Malfoy heir sat on one of the couches in his father's study, he petted Magnolia, his father's favorite Kneazle and drank a glass of wine.
Lucius loved Draco but his laissez-fair attitude of a spoiled heir, frankly annoyed him. First, his fit about pursuing after the mudb—Muggleborn, just because she was in the international press. He clenched his jaw thinking about it.
"And now this attitude, sometimes he wondered if Narcissa had fooled him. He had never done a paternity test because it frankly scared him, his friend Severus used to laugh about his fears.
Lucius fixed his eyes on Draco, "In that, you are not even close to right, we have your great-aunt Ursas, who founded the Center for the Study of Alchemy."
Draco looked bored, and Lucius had to control his anger.
"As I was saying, she founded the very center which made us the wealthiest Wizarding family in the western society, who produced all the gold that sits in our vaults. Unfortunately, her secret went with her, when she was kidnapped and murdered. The secret is still somewhere, and I intend to find it." He looked at Draco; he had his interest.
"Then, there is your Grandmother Artemisia, who designed the cold stasis box to maintain foodstuffs fresh for up to three years and up to nine with modifications. What has made us the only family with food resources to survive a world famine, and also—."
"I get the message, Father, stop it, enough. There were some, and I don't remember your grandmother, they were probably dried up prunes, self-righteous and ugly as sin." Draco tried again.
"Accio Malfoy Family Annals, XVII-XIX, scrolls 11a – scrolls 15 ABC…"
Lucius commanded, and a floating hand with a white glove brought the scrolls while the Scottish Wolfhounds, Negus and Nero barked at the hand.
"Here is Ursas, your great-Aunt Ursa." He pointed at the moving pictures. And he smirked looking at his silly heir.
"Wow," Draco was speechless, she reminded him of Hermione and her naughty-librarian look, the one that made him fall in sex with her. She wore her hair in a bun, with fly away hair, a small pair of gold spectacles, on the tip of her button nose, her round hips, small waist and pert breasts, all enhanced by ppa tight pencil skirt.
And, "Wow," when he looked at his great-grand-mother as well, they reminded him of fantasies of naughty, wicked librarians.
"Ursas is almost a dead ringer for Hermione, " Draco observe.
Lucius agreed, but didn't answer, she had married a Malfoy, the younger twin, and was a Pureblood.
"It is worth a second look, it might help my theories."
She was a L'Orc, he thought. He made a mental note and moved right along.
"Whatever, getting back to the matter we were discussing. The point is that you are wrong, I am somewhat disappointed, and consider your comments beneath you. It must be your Black blood. Cissy, and may she rest in peace, was beautiful and a good wife, but brains," Lucius pointed at his head, "she lacked." He hated the lies pouring out his mouth.
He sighed, "It has been my most fervent hope that the Malfoy genes were predominant, however, you are making me doubtful. I would be remiss not to confess that Miss Granger's brain is the most appealing trait she possesses, next to her magic, I have not noticed the other assets." He lied about the last, but, what else could he say, one had to keep family peace.
He challenged his now red-faced son and stared him point blank.
"Father, ah, I was going by what I perceived were your standards for witches, I will shed such convictions."
Draco still wanted the witch for himself and didn't want to let her outshine him. He was the wizard, and it was his job to be the smart one in the family.
"Tell Miss Granger that she has the job. No Muggle attire to work, she must sleep here during work days. In her own suite, not with you. Before you fuzz, she needs to be ready in the morning, not all tired."
Three months later
She had worked for Lucius Malfoy for the last three months. At the beginning, it hadn't been a good working relationship.
For starters, she had refused to move into the Manor and that started the first confrontation; the first of many since that day, and now they locked horns daily.
That was putting it mildly; they engaged in interminable arguments, which invariably led to veiled insults. As a result, she had regretted her decision every other day and had presented her resignation five times already.
As of recent days, they had come to a proper rhythm and had a reasonably peaceful workplace. Nevertheless, Lucius was a problematic Wizard to work for, and the possibility of explosive conflicts was always a hop and skip away.
"Sir, I need to leave early today. I have a dinner date at my boyfriend's home, and it will take me a while to get ready ." Hermione stood beside his desk.
Her eyes lowered to look at a non-existing hangnail, hardly likely. These days the manicure-witch came every other day, and took care of their hands and their feet twice a week; they were all perks of the job.
"If you had been living here, this wouldn't be an issue. Ok, I see your face, no need to re-visit that subject. Why don't you get ready here?" He seemed uber-annoyed.
"After all, Draco lives here, and you won't have to go and come back. We can send one of the elves to pick up your things. That way we don't have to interrupt our work. We are really making headway." He grimaced.
He wasn't sure why thinking of her especially dressing for Draco irked him. He thought it might have to do with taking time away from their work. Yeah sure, his inner narrator mumbled, keep lying to yourself, you are very good at that.
She stood her ground, "Sir, I don't think it would be a good idea. As so you know, I like my independence and mixing my job and personal life sends the wrong message."
Lucius had raised his hand for her to stop, "I don't get it, a wrong message to whom? As far as I can see, you work here for me, not at any of the Malfoy Industries buildings."
She shrugged her shoulders, "A wrong message to me and to you; let alone to Draco, who would be wondering why I cannot take the time to get ready for him. You know, he demands it, soaking in the tub, to have my body soft and ready…" she wasn't even thinking what she was saying, too flustered while arguing with him.
His mind was spacing out with her information, an unbidden picture of the young witch in the tub, for pity's sake, she needed to cut him some slack. He wasn't a monk, not really.
Yes really, if not answer, when was your last shag? Hmm, over three years ago. His interloper stated.
"You know the beauty rituals, he expects of me. It would bring strife, as it is, he doesn't want me to work, not even for you." Now she appeared distraught. L'roy the Hades owl, perched closer to the young mistress and hooted softly in commiseration.
Negus feeling her sadness, moved a little closer and put his massive head on her shoe.
Lucius stood up from his desk and went to get a heavy glass to pour a shot of Fire-whiskey, with a sprinkle of carbonated spring water.
He was angry; he just didn't like the way Draco treated the petite witch. He had made this observation to his son, time and time again.
He wasn't sure where Draco had learned to treat witches this way. His dead wife, dead to him, was the root of the problem. He could remember a conversation she had with Draco.
"Son, I am not unhappy with my life. It is a wife's job to make her husband happy. To do whatever I need to do, to stay beautiful and sexy, yes, I said sexy. Malfoy men cannot stray, so they annul their marriage if the witch doesn't stay sexy."
She stopped to fix a stray hair and to freshen up her lipstick, to make her point.
"And, of course, a wife needs education to hold a discussion with her husband, and to make interesting remarks during parties and social functions. Lastly, she needs to produce at least one male heir, if not more, and this requires for the wife to be ready for him, whenever he desires you."
Lucius was listening from the next couch, pretending that he was reading and nearly chocked on his drink. This conversation took place while the Dark Lord had taken over the Manor.
"Overall, I would say a wife's job to serve her husband and master. And to do so, a real Pureblood witch must live by the Pureblood Wife's Commands, written by Serafina Rosier in 1542; it is a timeless and germane book for all good wives."
After hearing that, Lucius made a decision; he looked for a renowned curse maker and paid him a small fortune to destroy all the copies of the wretched book. Over the years everyone that opened the book would see the book rot and turn into dust.
Hermione's Conundrum
Hermione thought to be in love with Draco, it started when they met in the same University. However, she started perceiving his subtle changes, which were slowly, but surely taken a toll on her feelings.
At the time she was dating Adrian Pucey, and making out with Harry and Ron once in a while.
At the time she had thought that Draco was funny, sexy and a little bit of an old-time rake. Now, he was becoming a hedonistic tyrant, who demanded she ascertained her role as his-to-be-fiancée.
She suddenly found herself trapped, doing things that made her upset with herself, whywas she doing them?
According to him, her entire life should revolve around giving him pleasure, not only sexual but aesthetic.
She had to make sure that gourmet diners were waiting for him, and she had to be at his beck and call.
At the start, it was cute, but it had gone overboard.
This night, he asked her in front his friend, to give him a head massage, while he played a card game with him; she sat behind him to massage his head.
Blaise's eyes were bugging out, "Hey Drake man," looking at Hermione's red lacquered nails, the high heels, and her cocktail dress, "Is Hermione your Geisha or what?"
She wore a red silk kimono robe, opened to the waist.
"Not that I mind, to see her beautiful self around, but isn't this boring for her?" He had to say it. Even Blaise knew that Draco was treating Hermione as something she wasn't.
"She loves to make her future husband happy, right princess?" He said sliding his hand into her dress, held with a sticking charm, to caress her naked breast; something that made her visible uncomfortable, the message was simple, 'She is mine and for my pleasure.'
Hermione bit her lip. She didn't want to be there, she was working on her project and was tired of going out every night.
Lucius started working at 8:00 AM and this train was killing her. Her project was suffering because of her social life, and Draco wanted more and more.
She made a decision, Draco made her happy, and she thought this was a phase, and he was jealous of her work, she hoped.
The Decision
"Mr. Malfoy, you called me?"
Her boss sat behind his desk. He dressed in an attire seen only by few; namely, waistcoat, loose trousers, an open collar white cotton shirt, and loafer shoes.
She noticed that his hair was tied with a dragon leather strip she had secretly gifted him years ago when he was his secret teenage crush. It was a favorite of his, go figure.
"What is the meaning of this?" He pointed at her scroll, the one she had put on his desk as soon as she arrived. He pushed the paper with his quill, as if was a pile of Hypogriff dung. She cringed.
Then he pushed it further with the small Japanese sword, that he used as letter opener, while he downed half a glass of firewhisky. It was 8:20 A.M.
"What do you mean? It is my resignation. " Her mouth was dry.
"Did my son ask you to resign?" His voice wasn't cold, it was angry, very.
"Ehem, mmm, no, yes, no." She bit her lip, her stomach was churning. He was the Dark wizard she remembered from before.
Now they often had lunch together, tea later on, and they walked the dogs to stretch out. They were amicable, not friendly, they got along well. Or they used to get along, until now.
His mouth was twisted in a grimace, he was seething in anger, or was it disgust?
She swallowed rather loudly. She had told Draco she was quitting today, and he had booked them a trip for the next five days. She told him that she would meet him for lunch to discuss him how it had gone before he paid for the trip.
She didn't want Mr. Malfoy mad at her. They had made so much progress that they were planning to go to the abandoned building of the Center for Alchemy Studies, the next week.
The center was located on a small island. And, honestly, she had asked to resign, but not with the intent of making him so angry. Now, she could see him, and yes, he was probably unhappy with her.
Lucius sat with the glass in his left hand, and with the other hand, he held the letter opener and stabbed the expensive wood, damaging the priceless blade, an original 16th Century beauty.
Yes, he was mad at her, no doubt.
"What I meant to say is that I wasn't sure of what I was doing, or if I wanted to resign." She tapped her foot on the floor.
Lucius stood up in one swift move. "Well, great, until you are sure," he pointed his index finger, a long flame burst out his finger, and carbonized the scroll.
Had she seen real fire come out his finger, was that even possible? She did a double take; he didn't acknowledge it.
"Mr. Malfoy you have no right to burn my resignation, I had it authenticated at my solicitor, at Mr. Nott; and how did you do the finger thing?"
He waved his hand dismissively, it was none of her business. Now to answer her argument.
"But I do have the right, we are in the midst of finding the manuscript of the The Three Rules for Perfect Magic, and I cannot do this alone." After staring her down, he sat back on his desk.
She thought they were looking for something else, the three rules; they didn't exist or did they? His great aunt must have used them to transfigure all the copper and brass into pure gold.
"Now, go home and pack. I changed my mind, the trip we had planned in two weeks, has been moved. We are leaving tonight, after dinner. You go and inform Draco." He shoed her away with his fingers.
She looked at him incredulously. He ignored her.
"Ah, bring your cat and Axel will take care of him. Hmm, bring clothes for day wear, and formal for the evenings. We will be gone for around six to eight weeks. Draco is not invited, this is work."
She stood there rooted. He kept stabbing the desk, not friendly, and looked at her as if she were on the execution stand. His mouth set in a rictus.
"You cannot make me stay, I promised Draco."
"What did you promise him? And my dear Miss Granger what would your friends, and your beloved Draco will think of you when you have to spend a season in Azkaban for a breach of contract?"
His elbows were on the desk, and his face rested on his hands, while the fingers tapped on his check in annoyance. His hair was starting to fly around his face.
"You wouldn't, the engagement party is in two weeks." Her eyes filled with tears.
"Try me. Before you came I had already invested fifteen months in this project and getting nowhere; and now, we worked perfectly and made significant progress. " His tone was threatening.
Thus, I won't tolerate that your problems destroy my efforts, or should I say our efforts. And be forewarned, don't try to influence me with Draco, albeit he is my heir, he doesn't rule my life."
He stood up and sat on the desk closer to her.
He wanted to intimidate her, she thought.
"When I hired you I explained my reservations. Not about your talent or ability to do the work; it was because I know my son, and his wanting to control you; amazing I cannot believe that you allow him, you were a warrior, what happened?"
He stopped and again wandless, "Accio, Granger, Interview, dated…"
"Mr. Malfoy, " she heard her voice, he had recorded their meeting. He would never change; he had made a record of the interview without advising her before hand.
"You don't need to worry and can count on me. I will never let my personal relationship with your son become an issue."
She was irate after listening, and she didn't answer to him.
"It is illegal to record without advising me first."
He ignored her, "As if I care about rules, phew.
Besides you signed a five-year contract, you should have read it more carefully."
He went back to his chair, "Be back in two hours sharp. Let Draco know that whatever plans you have with him are cancelled. You can use the Floo connected right into his office. My former office, but that could also change in seconds; if he is out to destroy my research, I am not above taking his place away from him."
Draco
She did just that, threw the Floo powder in anger and was in Draco's office.
Where was Draco? She smoothed her dress; the one he had asked her to wear. She heard noises in his dressing room where he kept a couch and a couple of changes of clothes.
She was going to call him again when she heard other voices. She tiptoed into the room and using her wand cast a concealment charm; her radar was telling her something was wrong.
There on the couch, no, no… lay Draco, not a couch, a bed, Pansy was naked riding him, and Blaise was behind Pansy by her back entrance. Draco looked bored, yet he was hard enough for Pansy to shag him.
With his finger he called Blaise, who left Pansy and bent to kiss Draco's mouth, just to make Pansy squirm.
Hermione was frozen, stuck on place. Her heart was bleeding, shattering into tiny pieces, her Draco, having a tawdry tryst.
She knew that he had been lovers with Blaise for a short while; he called it 'experimentation.' But this, what was it? Her tears streamed down and her heart felt ready to burst out her chest.
A/n yup Draco isn't nice, sometimes my Draco is a very damaged dark soul. He is the nephew of beautiful and dark Bellatrix.