A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry that I haven't been able to answer all of your reviews, but I've been out of order the last couple of days. Though, be assured, I adore every single one of them, thank you!
Beta love to MrBenzedrine, who not only is the bestest beta EVER, but can also cope with my rambling and strokes my writer's ego when I desperately need it. *shoves cinnamon roles in her direction*
Hermione, distracted by the way Lucius casually twirled her hair around his finger, didn't see the stray bludger that almost hit them. But suddenly she found herself in a very uncomfortable situation: tangled up in a heap of arms and legs, she was caught between Draco and Lucius on the floor with her, basically, sitting in Draco's lap and Lucius' arms slung around her waist.
Essentially, Hermione was in a delicious Malfoy-sandwich. Merlin and Morgana, 97% of the Witch Weekly readers would need a new pair of knickers in her place. And really, Lucius was an attractive wizard (attractive and proper were different things!), both in 1975 and their own time, but…it was Draco's presence behind her that had her heart beating faster. Both men helped her up, and while Draco checked her out - for injuries! - Lucius' hand rested on her forearm right above her fading, now glamoured, scar, and she willed herself not to flinch. That would do nothing to the cause.
After an automatic apology for throwing her on the ground, the young wizards glared at each other. Abraxas, much wiser by years and fast on the uptake, gave an aggravated sigh and gestured for Hermione to switch places with him. This landed Abraxas between the two platinum blond (if not visibly so) testosterone bombs and her next to Sirius.
As if nothing had happened, the Malfoy patriarch engaged his progeny in a conversation about the Malfoy's international investments. Personally, Hermione was glad to shake off her confused feelings in order to concentrate on her professional goal. Then again, she wasn't so sure anymore if anything that happened to her was straightly professional at the moment.
Teenager Sirius cleared his voice to gain her attention, "So, Ophelia, you haven't been to Hogwarts, right? Because I surely would remember you." It took the witch everything to keep a straight face. What a lame attempt at a pick-up line. Though, the daring move to address her by her first name was almost smooth.
"No, I haven't, Mister Black." she said politely. "Is it an interesting place to go?"
"When you have friends like mine, it's a never ending adventure," he intoned enthusiastically, and the flirty teenager turned into a boy again.
"Good friends are hard to come by." She didn't have to feign this statement, because Harry and Ron were still her rocks. "Are they in the same house as you are?"
"Yes, we're all Gryffindors, so I'm a proud lion among a family of snakes - uhm, Slytherins. We're a pretty tight group of four that make a fabulous team, even if our teachers may say otherwise." It would be so easy to warn him. About Pettigrew, about Voldemort, about the veil. She felt more tempted to interfere than with Bellatrix, just because it wasn't in her nature to kill someone and helping was.
But gambling with the timeline was the most dangerous thing. The borders between what could be and what would be were thin; time was sometimes a liquid that streamed every possible way, and sometimes a solid chain you were bound to. Reminding herself of that, Hermione concentrated on safer topics, "I heard Minerva McGonagall teaches there; she's a fabulous witch."
"She's amazing. But don't tell her I said it, that would be embarrassing, wouldn't it?" the dark haired teenager that would later become Harry's (late) godfather admitted, slightly blushing.
Hermione laughed, "I promise." She definitely intended to break that promise if - no, when they came home, knowing Minerva would be happy about it. She easily lied to a person - maybe the sheer Slytherin-ness of Draco was sinking into her?
Sirius continued his praise on the Transfiguration professor. "She's impressive with her magic, really, and she's an animagus."
"Oh, really?" the brunette faked ignorance, "Let me guess: an owl?"
"That would be too obvious! No, a proud, though common, grey cat."
"There's nothing common about cats!" Hermione retaliated, "Mine is the a very loyal companion with a very special character!" Which had accidentally landed her and her grumpily conversing partner in 1975. But she couldn't tell him that.
"I'm more of a dog than a cat person." Sirius tilted his head in a fashion that reminded her of Padfoot. "Though, I don't say no if a pussy wants to cuddle."
Hermione blinked, taking in the winking teenage boy. And then she started laughing. So long and heartily in fact that she had no idea who won the match. Probably Germany, if the faces of the Malfoys - all of them - were any indication.
*()*()*()*()*()*
Back to the Leaky, Draco immediately set up upscale wards. Hermione couldn't deny that some of them were very advanced and would be way out of a common Auror's reach.
"Why are you doing this?" she inquired.
"We've been followed again. It was just a hunch back in muggle London, but I saw the same guy again today in the Quidditch stadium." He casually vanished the Glamours and looked at her accusingly.
"Bugger," Hermione cursed, only to see a smirk developing on Draco's face.
"All the creative curse words and you go for 'bugger'?"
"Yes, because it bugs me that I have to be twice as attentive in Knockturn Alley when I buy the rest of the potion supplies," she explained rationally.
Draco's reaction was to glare at her, unbelieving. "You've been to Knockturn?"
"I told you I had to go shopping for some basic ingredients for the time solution." After years of practice, she knew the tell-tale signs of Draco Malfoy's outrage; his jaw clenched (horrible for the molars!); he straightened his shoulders, and his eyes tried to shoot daggers at her.
"I thought you bought Black Beetle eyes or something in Diagon Alley! And either you Obliviated the memory from my mind or you deliberately held this little detail back!" The grey of his irises always gained such an alluring sparkle, and she noticed her stomach dropped at the sight. That's why she decided to poke the snake again. "Don't you think I could handle such a situation?"
The spark became a fire. Did he look that passionate when he made out with women? "Don't play that card with me, Hermione. I know exactly how capable you are. But I was assigned to you for a reason. You tend to ignore the danger around you when you're on a mission. And, if you want to hear it or not, I was trained for such situations. We don't simply run into situations with our wands ablazing, we survey, we observe, we follow from the distance before we hit our target."
This responsible side of him rarely surfaced this strongly and sobered Hermione up. She was a headstrong, rational person, after all. Mostly. Then again, she was too stubborn to concede and decided to change the topic instead. "What's your father's favourite dessert?"
The blond blinked for a second, but immediately quipped, "You dipped in chocolate, apparently, should I guess after today. What kind of question is that?" Maybe it was a way of wishful thinking she wasn't ready to acknowledge yet, but there was definitely a jealous undertone in his words.
To answer his question, Hermione fished something from the apothecary's bag and showed it to Draco. "Flunitrazepan, a narcotic, on the European market since 1975. It works over oral application, hits 15 to 20 minutes after consummation, and lasts at least four hours, so I have to add a bit of magic to shorten the span. But I thought it could be useful on some occasion. I mean, we have to get into the vaults, which are most presumably only accessible with a password. And your father would be the easiest victim."
A faint nod suggested Draco could follow her train of thought, but the smart wizard didn't stop thinking there. "You simply walk into the apothecary and get drugs - legally?"
"No, it's not that easy." Hermione admitted, "I told them I am a doctor from a hospital nearby and we had fallen short of the medicine. With a magically tweaked document I got what I wanted."
"How do you know so much about these...narcotics, drugs, and stuff?" Draco tilted his head and scrutinized her. "I mean, this isn't some common knowledge in the muggle world, right?"
"I have a life outside of magic, should you have forgotten?" Hermione hesitated, realising where this conversation was getting at.
"Just because we haven't updated our biographies fully yet - what did you do after graduation?" The expression in Draco's face turned professional, and she knew he had switched into Auror mode.
But she could be as stubborn as he was. "I lived with my grandparents."
"Why? You could have lived with Potter in that doxy-filled place of his." Provocation was more efficient with a personal note, or so the Auror manual Hermione had whipped into Harry's head, stated.
"Grimmauld place isn't that shabby anymore, and you know that! Just incredibly stuffed with toy brooms, lego bricks, and plush hippogriffs. I may tend to get a bit over excited when I buy toys, but James and Albus - "
"Don't change the subject!" he admonished. Hermione sighed and plopped down on the bed. Maybe he deserved her trust; they shared a timeline and a bed, after all.
"I wanted to be closer to my family and moved in with my grandparents into the house where we'd landed, actually." She waved him off when his face showed hints of unease, "I know Harry probably has told you that you shouldn't ask about my parents, but since I've been much closer to your family than I'd like, you deserve something in return."
With another heavy sigh, Hermione began to tell the story she so rarely shared. "My parents were Obliviated by me in the summer before our seventh year, before Harry, Ron, and I went horcrux hunting. It seemed the perfect idea, and I would still do it again. I sent them to Australia, and that's where they lived in comfortable ignorance until I restored their memories shortly after the final battle. They reacted… not in the way I had expected. Of course, I expected them to be angry and maybe disappointed, but they were downright furious. Maybe the memory spell has meddled with their brain chemistry in aspects I hadn't calculated…" she trailed off, still searching for a rational explanation, but, again, came up with nothing.
After an encouraging noise somewhere between a hum and a huff from Malfoy, who had positioned himself in the chair next to the bed, she continued, "To sum it up, they never really forgave me, and suddenly looked at me and my magic with disdain. I went home, feeling devastated and worthless, and crawled into my grandmother's lap. I've always had a special relationship with my grandparents. They are the only people who never judged me in my family, never tried to change me, and always showed me their deepest support. It was never like this with my parents. I loved them and respected them, of course, but at times, I felt…like an intruder into a perfect life when I was at home, talking about boggarts and brooms. Like I didn't belong or maybe didn't fit in. My grandparents loved me. Period." Hermione swallowed the sad tears that threatened to spill. Even if it had been three years since her grandfather died and 18 months since her grandmother's death, it still hurt. "I haven't talked to my parents since I Ieft Australia for England again. Not a Christmas card or a birthday wish. Nothing," she concluded.
Draco's voice was calm, almost soft, when he asked, "What did you do in the muggle world? I mean, you're not exactly a person that survives without soaking up random knowledge for too long." His usually so prominent and biting sarcasm had ran itself out.
"My grandfather was a Professor at UCL and helped me to get into the medical faculty. I didn't exactly have papers that documented my education. I enrolled and studied medicine, became a doctor, a Healer, if you will. I graduated-"
"- At the top of your class, I imagine," Draco smirked, and Hermione appreciated his good-natured teasing.
"I worked in a hospital for a year before my grandparents urged me to back to the magical world, because I missed it so much. They said I needed time to heal, and now it was time to show them, once and again, what a muggleborn could do."
"And Merlin, that you did."
Hermione blushed at Draco's heartfelt statement and met his eyes. He must have wanted to add something, for he opened his mouth - but then an owl pecked against the window, and the moment was over.
"I hope you are ready for being dipped in chocolate," Draco announced after he had read the letter attached to the owl's leg.
"That depends on who is licking it off, but indulge me." Hermione shooed all images away that showed the blond man next to her feasting on liquid chocolate from her entire body.
"My father has the same sweet tooth as me. And he has the opportunity to show you on Friday on the Malfoy's soirée on the benefit of the Hogwarts library, to which we have just been invited."
*()*()*()*()*()*
Hermione usually avoided functions, balls, and galas. But if she had to attend, she occupied herself by bantering with Draco. This time, however, this wasn't an option, as the soirée in Malfoy Manor couldn't be compared to those in the Ministry's hand.
The first part of the evening followed a strict protocol. Draco and Hermione were welcomed by Abraxas and Winifred, and Hermione noticed the appreciating nod of Draco's grandmother when she analysed 'Ophelia's' dress. The midnight blue gown covered enough to be decent, but still showed enough to make Hermione feel attractive.
After the greeting came speeches and dinner. And even if Hermione was convinced most of the present guests had never read a single book in the Hogwarts library, her consternation was mollified by the exquisite meal. For the first time, she could understand why Draco had been so spoiled when he entered Hogwarts. A while later, it was time to mingle with the other guests, where they had to be careful to stick together and to their story.
Draco's hand on the small of her back, absentmindedly running circles over the thin fabric that sent shivers through her spine, made it difficult to concentrate, and it didn't help that he looked good enough to eat in his classic black robes. Hermione was relieved when she finally spotted Lucius among the crowd, exchanging words with the Minister of Magic.
She pulled Draco behind the next marble pillar and cast a discreet Muffliato. "You're absolutely certain that your parents aren't together yet, yes?"
"Yeeees. Why?" he stated, clearly irritated. She merely adjusted the fabric around her cleavage to show much more of it. The movements definitely caught Draco's attention, for he no longer had his eyes on her face, but on her scooping neckline.
It was so tempting to tease him; she couldn't resist. "My eyes are up here, Mister."
With a deep breath the wizard focused again and asked, "What are you up to? I can't see how this is helping us to get into the family vault."
"Well, as I have to get the narcotic into him somehow, I'm going to feed your father some spiked strawberries. And that should be in a private setting, where he's both inconspicuous and distracted. Where better to go than into the manor's dungeons? It's shady, it's private… and I so want to see all the pretty trinkets there. For investigative reasons, of course, and some quality time with the current Malfoy heir."
Draco shook his head at her in wonder. "You're a covert Slytherin." Then, with an undertone she couldn't identify, he half-joked, "I'm keeping my eyes on you. And don't sully my bloodline, Granger!"
Hermione grinned at him with what she hoped was an innocent expression. "If I wanted to sully your precious bloodline, I'd be more inclined to try my luck at the very end of it, don't you think?" And with a short view of Draco's pupils dilating, she turned and walked in Lucius' direction. No better way to push your confidence than leaving a man standing with his mouth agape. What a glorious feeling.
As it turned out, it was almost too easy to get Lucius where she wanted him. A hand on his arm here, a bit of lash-fluttering. Some intelligent quotes and a bit of intellectual banter. She was still surprised how much he hit on her intelligence. Then again, it was the same with Draco - wasn't it?
A small comment about Vanishing charms, paired with a well-placed glance at his crotch, and he was putty in her hands, complete with a lusty gleam in his grey irises.
"Lucius, I've heard your family owns some of the wizard-kind's oldest pensieves. Is there any chance I could have a look at one of those?" Hermione inquired, fully aware that they would be stored somewhere safe - hopefully in the family's vault.
"Who am I to deny a lady such an insistent urge for knowledge?" Lucius leered and led her from the ballroom, his arm casually slung around her waist. He led her deep into the manor's intestines - not without pinching her bum on the way - and finally stopped in front of an unspectacular looking door.
Lucius produced his wand and whispered some words, the password, she presumed, then Hermione heard the locks turning beneath the wooden surface. So far, so good.
"After you, Ophelia." Lucius gestured for her to enter the vault, and she stepped into the vast room.
'Okay, Hermione, time to play the bad girl,' the witch encouraged herself, though she couldn't decide what to look around at first: in various shelves and protected under bluish shimmering magical shields lay the most precious possessions of the Malfoys. She identified various items that must have belonged to Salazar Slytherin himself, but also ancient Astronomy charts and- "Merlin, is that the first edition of Hogwarts: A History?" Hermione all but shrieked in glee and walked over to her favourite book.
Lucius chuckled and placed both of his hands on her waist from behind her. "Knowledge and power are closely related, kitten, and the Malfoys have a love of both," he whispered seductively next to her ear, his front warm against her back.
"How about we get to know each other a bit better and indulge in something sweet while we're at it? I mean, I'm a professional writer, after all." Hermione slipped from the man's grip and hoped she presented a coy smile.
"Sure." Lucius was a fraction irritated, but apparently decided she was trying hard to get. He accio'd a soft green blanket from somewhere in the manor and laid it down on the stone floor, which he heated up with a warming spell. He was an arrogant prat, but he had manners.
The rest was a child's play for Hermione: she flirted with him and, after a while, declared her longing for something 'juicy'. She produced a slightly narcotic dipped strawberry from her pocket. Carefully, as not to touch the drug herself, she placed the berry between her lips and beckoned Lucius with a crooked finger to fetch it. Ten minutes (and five strawberries with narrowly escaped kisses) later, the Malfoy man was out like a light, and Hermione only briefly hesitated to soften his fall with a Cushioning charm.
When she opened the door from the inside, a clearly irritated Draco paced in front of it and impatiently snapped at her, "What took you so long?"
"Dammit, I'm a doctor, not a seductress!" Sadly, her Star Trek reference was outright ignored, even if Hermione thought Draco was such a Kirk at times. That called for intense cultural education in the future.
Stepping over his sedated father, Draco inspected the Malfoys' sacred possessions. "I'm familiar with some of these things here, but not with all of them, so we better hurry to look for the time turner. As I know my grandfather, it's probably warded by blood wards, so you shouldn't touch it."
She forced her voice into an academic mode, "What kind of blood wards?"
A smug smirk befell Draco's lips, and Hermione's cheeks warmed. "The kind of wards that would grant you access if you were married to me or carrying my child."
"Yes, and in the same dream of yours the child would bear a wonderful, strong name, like 'Scorpius'," she snorted in laughing in an effort to cover her blush. "Not going to happen in this reality anytime soon."
"I'm rather fond of the name 'Scorpius'..." he muttered while they rummaged through the priceless heirlooms and trinkets. A minute later Hermione exclaimed, "That's it!"
"You've found it?" Draco turned towards her.
"What? No, sorry. I just realized something: the marriage bond or the conception of an heir creates a kind of genetic imprinting. And it shows as this characteristic impossible blond hair on the outside; that also explains why your mother became a blonde, at least partially." The witch's mind reeled at the potential research one could put in such a field. The enchantments behind this had to be unbelievably complex, perhaps-
"Hermione, stop thinking. I can practically hear your brain working. Focus on finding the blasted time turner before my father awakes!" Strangely, she didn't even feel admonished at Draco's amused words. Still, after an hour of thorough examination, the two time travellers had to admit that the time turner wasn't in the dungeons.
"We have to look in my grandfather's study next, though that calls for another plan, I suppose," the blond Auror stated, his fingers destroying the perfect order of his hair in frustration. "What is my father going to believe what happened, by the way?"
Hermione pulled her wand and magically loosened Lucius' belt buckle and shimmied the trousers a bit lower. "The narcotic has the comfortable side-effect that it leaves memory lapses. I'm going to make him believe he fainted because he accidentally bumped his head in a thorough snog with me - that plausible?"
Draco's glance focused in a way on her that made her all tingly before he stepped towards her. "You're not exactly looking like you've just had a wild snog." He stood mere inches apart from her now, raising his hand to carefully pull some strands from her elegant bun. Her heart galloped at his proximity and almost stopped when he placed his palms on both sides of her face. Gently, he rubbed her cheeks. "They would be flushed after said actions, wouldn't they?" he whispered huskily, and Hermione gave a slight nod.
"Almost perfect," he finally declared.
"Almost?"
His thumb found her lush bottom lip and traced it."Your lips…" And then his lips were on hers. Warm and soft, but with pressure. Hermione sighed at the more than welcome contact and relished in the feel of his lips on hers. She felt one of his arms sliding around her waist, pulling her flush against him, while the other went to her neck and tilted her head upwards. Boldly, she demanded entrance to his mouth with her tongue, and his lips opened, his own tongue curling around hers, dancing, playing, battling. Her hands had settled on his chest, and she could feel that his heart was beating as erratically as hers.
With a groan from the awakening side-character of the romantic scenery (Lucius) the spell was broken, and Draco pulled away from her.
"Now you're looking thoroughly snogged by a Malfoy." His smirk was a bit wobbly and his eyes glazed, but when he left his family's vault, Hermione noticed an adorable light-heartedness in his step.
A/N: Sooooo, when you want to read something fluffy now, read MrBenzedrine's one-shot "Water under the Bridge" (Harmony). It's awesome!