AN: This chapter is possibly the most intense I've written... enjoy?
Mega700201: Thanks!
University Bound 2019: Lucius is a Slytherin for a reason. But don't underestimate our Hermione either!
Guest: Thank you! I am planning to continue with weekly updates.
SydneyN: Good instincts! I am curious what you think of this chapter!
DramioneForever: I don't think anyone should be calm about interactions with Lucius; he is dangerous and clever.
Madaboutyoubaby: Yes, Lucius is a scary guy. I'm glad you are enjoying!
Those hours had flown by as they tweaked the monitoring spells and ironed out the bugs in it. Each of them had covertly sneaked to different parts of castle and tested the coded words to ensure they were recording correctly. Draco had needed to move several to better pick up voices, but in the end the twenty Ears seemed to do a decent job of capturing what was going on in the castle and recording it. It wasn't perfect; one of the quills had an unfortunate propensity to write in sonnets, for example (which they had eventually decided didn't matter all that much, since the information was still recorded) but overall it was functional.
They strengthened the misdirection and hiding spells on their set-up with fifteen minutes to spare for their meeting with Draco's father. A tiny part of Draco, a part he thought had long since withered and died, wished his father's offer of help was actually that rather than an additional obstacle for him to overcome.
"After this we need to figure out how to contact Potter and if they have any leads on other Horcruxes and how to destroy them," Hermione started.
"Please don't focus on that right now," Draco chastised. "Please, please just get through this interaction with my father with both of us alive."
She opened her mouth to argue-he could tell by the tilt of her chin-so he cut her off, "You underestimate him. I know him, and he is suspicious of your loyalties and your utility. We need him to think our working together is the best use of your time; if you're trussed up in a dungeon or being dangled over a lake of Inferi as a lure, all the Time Turners in the world won't help us."
"I know that!" she snapped.
She didn't resume talking about their next steps though, which allowed Draco to breathe as much a sigh of relief as he was going to get.
Five minutes. He offered his arm. She daintily laid her hand on it, and they walked towards their meeting with the Malfoy patriarch.
Lucius had summoned them to the training room, a large room that had been bespelled to morph into a variety of landscapes and training scenarios for dueling practice. The walls were goblin-charmed to absorb excess spell-fire to preserve the rest of the historic home. It hadn't seen much use in recent years; the Dark Lord was more of a train-by-attacking-Muggles sort rather than a, well, trainer.
"Let us begin," the blond patrician offered. "Draco, you can sit in the observation box."
Draco nodded and walked over the enclosed glass area where a display of tea was already set out. Because of course he'd want something as banal as tea as his future hung in the balance. He stepped into the greenhouse-like area. The glass was similarly magically shielded so instructors (or spectators) could watch without risk of harm. Draco didn't dare expose them to more risk by defying his father, but he hated to be another few steps away from being able to intervene. He mollified himself by imagining, over and over the three steps it would take for him to exit the box and start casting. He hoped his father wouldn't notice he held his tea left-handed to remove the additional barrier of snatching his wand.
"Let us start with a simple duel. Stinging hexes and protection charms only."
Hermione looked comically small facing off with his father. The man had a full head of height on her and, while not a broad man, dwarfed her in bulk as well. She stood as proudly tall as him though, Draco thought with a touch of pride himself.
They both bowed and his father formally counted them in, although he shot off a hex on "two." Hermione hadn't shielded and narrowly missed it by jumping away. Her eyes narrowed at the treachery; she was getting the measure of his father quickly it would seem. She shot several hexes back after building a strong protection sphere. They traded shots for a few minutes, each taking stock of the other's casting speed and style.
Suddenly Lucius darted forward and started firing the hexes at a blistering rate. Hermione's shield shattered under the impact. One hex hit her hem, producing a small sizzle. She recast a weaker shield and started firing her own stingers back, but Lucius kept slinging them in an unending volley.
Draco frowned. His father was a champion duelist. What was he trying to learn or prove by testing her this way? Or was Draco being tested-would he intervene?
Hermione suddenly stood on her toes and dragged her wand through the air in a huge arc that ended with her crouched. A massive shield bubble encased her. Draco watched with interest as she started feeding power into it. The bubble grew slowly outwards. Draco watched beads of sweat trickle down her forehead as she focused on the shield, not even bothering to cast offensively. Suddenly, as the bubble started to push his father towards the wall, Draco realized what she was doing. Using the shield charm offensively since she couldn't match the man for casting speed. He reigned in a snicker as his father inelegantly hopped towards a corner to avoid being crushed.
"I yield!" he yelled, using his position as master of the house to dampen all the spells in the room.
Hermione grinned and bowed, but had her wand ready this time when he cast a last hex at her.
Draco concealed his smirk.
Almost an hour had passed as Lucius ran Hermione through a variety of drills, most of which seemed designed to test her willingness to break or forecast underhanded methods. She did not have the cruel streak Lucius did, but used a large enough array of Dark jinxes and nasty hexes that Draco felt a glimmer of hope that his father would be convinced that Draco really had trained her for the Dark. Had really turned her to their side. Not that his father and he were really on the same side anymore these days.
In the center of the room, Lucius smirked, "Excellent, Miss Granger. Now, as a special treat, I've brought out an Order member; the Ministry has given us full permission to use him in training, as he's already condemned to die for his crimes."
He paced dramatically across the room, his robes fluttering behind him. Vain old coot, Draco thought bitterly. Upon reaching the middle again, he snapped his fingers and a thin man in rags appeared. Draco didn't recognize him, thankfully.
"Miss Granger, if you are indeed willing to help our cause, we need to know how you would fare in battle. That you truly have the mettle."
Draco felt the bile rise in his throat and didn't dare glance at Hermione. Suddenly, he knew where this was headed. They hadn't discussed what she would do, what her compunctions were if she were forced to torture an innocent, to kill an innocent. Draco imagined the wheels in her head turning. He wished he could nudge them, tell her this man's life was forfeit no matter what. He wished he could tell her she'd be killed, or Imperiused and used to draw out her friends. He wished he could let her know he himself might not survive her insurrection. He wished he could tell her that being her ally was truly his first hope that the Dark Lord could be brought down, that one life might have to be sacrificed for that.
His father droned on in his in his insufferably polished accent, "Would you mind demonstrating a Cruciatus curse?"
She nodded sharply and he imagined her channeling her anger at his father into the curse. Seconds later, the man writhed on the floor, his limbs twitching in unnatural directions, his skin undulating as the muscles beneath fought for freedom.
The relief he felt as his successful casting was eclipsed by an elation at his realization she'd cast it wordlessly. Clever witch! He didn't think her gambit would pay off, but she was clearly hoping by over-performing now she's get out of casting worse.
"I wasn't aware the Cruciatus was exceptionally useful in battle," she queried politely as she ended the spell. "It seems it would be time consuming and leave one open to attack."
She grinned a little, selling the lie that she was in on his game. Was complicit in it.
Lucius smiled hungrily at her. Her performance had given him a taste of what he sought, but he wouldn't-Draco knew from experience-be satisfied with her loyalty until her soul was as sullied as his own.
His father morphed his face into a considering mask.
"Indeed, Miss Granger. Perhaps you could instead cast a killing curse. Much more efficient."
The old man had neatly trapped her. She'd wanted battle spells. She got to cast battle spells. Draco felt numb. Should he just hex his father now and they could run? Or should he hex her and start grovelling, to save himself?
His thoughts were glacially slow. He remained seated, frozen in place. Dimly, he registered Hermione cock her head a bit to the side and smirk. The gesture was oddly and disturbingly reminiscent of his aunt.
"I thought you wanted to truly test my abilities. Well then, let me impress you."
The scene that played before Draco's eyes was one he hadn't in a million years foreseen. Time seemed to stop as he watched Hermione draw herself up and flick her arm out towards the shivering man; the poor soul was so far gone he didn't even try to run away from the woman who looked like an angel of death.
But Hermione turned suddenly and pointed her wand at Lucius. The Imperio was out of her lips before Draco could process what was happening. He would have warned her his father was well nigh impervious to the curse-it made his claims after the first war all the more ironic.
But before any of that had trickled its way through his head, he saw his father go slack, his eyes unfocused. Draco had underestimated her natural skill with the spell then. The man then raised his own wand in the sharp cutting motion Draco had seen too many times, and a flash of green light burst from his father's wand tip towards the hapless prisoner.
Hermione lowered her wand, releasing Lucius.
She smiled.
"Impressed?"