February 6th
Lucius wasn't stupid. He had known all along that Hermione was plotting something behind his back - he knew her too well. When she had insisted that she needed a "girl's night" with Ginevra again, there had been a certain look in her eye that made him sigh (not for the first time) at how bad a liar she was. But even though he didn't believe her excuse for a second, he had let her go on condition she take necessary precautions for her safety. While he had much rather tie her to the bed (that thought had so much potential!), such impulses must be resisted. For now.
And letting her go so easily was proof enough that Lucius was stupid. Stupid for not realising that she wasn't the one in danger.
It was still early in the evening, and he had just settled in the library with some paperwork. He was still rather melancholy after the discovery of his ancestors not being what he thought they were, and angry at times. But he had also accepted that there wasn't much he could do about it. He'd worked hard on regaining Hermione's full confidence, told her of his varying thoughts and feelings on the subject, and had - for her sake alone - even subjected himself to an excruciating look-at-it-from-the-other-side session. Perhaps he did feel a little better afterwards, but he was sure that had more to do with being able to send out the wedding invitations the same weekend. And the fact that their wedding was now only one week away.
Tonight, however, he felt rather comfortable on the whole. He had a fresh cup of tea by his right hand, and a good book to read after he'd finished the more tedious matters of business. Crookshanks had jumped up on his desk and placed himself on that very book, however, and was studiously ignoring Lucius's attempts at retrieving it. He was tempted to use more force to shoo the cat away, but he had better finish his work first. At least this way the cat's bushy tail wasn't flicking him in the face.
Lucius was halfway through his first scroll when his wards alerted him to the arrival of guests. He was most certainly not expecting company, and there were only a very select few people who knew where he lived, but judging from the low murmor of voices, there were more than one visitor. Crookshanks followed him as he reluctantly stood and went out to se who it was.
Last time he had an unexpected visitor, it had been Hermione, who'd followed him on an impulse after he had intruded upon her and Potter's dinner. A smirk passed Lucius's features at the memory - those days had been such fun. The moment he was in sight of the fireplace, however, he stopped in his tracks.
Draco and Harry Potter.
In that same instant, Lucius knew what they had come for. He inwardly cursed himself for not calling Hermione out on her bluff. Stupid, stupid. The only consolation was that they looked just about as pleased to see him as he was to see them.
"Who forced the two of you here?" he asked as he folded his arms and leaned against the doorway.
The boys glanced awkwardly at each other.
"Ginny", Harry mumbled.
Ah. He should have known. No one had ever dared call Lucius Malfoy naïve, but the idea that this could happen had honestly never crossed his mind. Leave it to Ginevra Weasley to put him through the torture of stag night. And worse: stag night with his son and Harry Potter.
Lucius shook his head. "Pathetic."
"Don't be too hard on yourself, old man", Draco muttered, his lips pulling up into a half-smirk.
Lucius glared at him. "I was speaking of you." He was not old. He looked the boys over once again, and determined they looked as if they'd been dragged half-out-of-bed. "At least I know how to dress", he sniffed.
"We could always leave?" Harry said hopefully, but a sharp nudge from Draco soon alerted him to his mistake. Lucius gave them a calculating look. He was tempted to let them go. It would certainly save him a night of humiliation. Last time he was in this position, he had simply hexed the idiots who'd attempted to put him through something so utterly plebeian. But then, dismissing Draco and Harry would mean that they got of the hook as well, and while Lucius wasn't too enthused about being stuck with them the whole evening, they should both have known better than to let Ginevra bully them into something as ill judged as this. Besides, Draco ought to know better than to mock his father's age.
That settled it. Lucius plastered a smile - a bit too friendly - onto his face and shrugged away from the door post. "No no, please come in." He'd find a way to torture them a little before the night was over.
Draco glared at Harry, but had no other choice but to follow him into the apartment. Walking ahead of them, Lucius grinned to himself, calling for Tilly to prepare them something to eat. The house elf appeared, and nodded so vigorously that her ears made a flapping noise. Always eager to serve the young master.
Lucius took them to the living room, where Draco presented a bottle of rare Irish dragon beer, making Lucius nod in approval. At least something seemed to be going on inside those heads of theirs - or was this too thanks to Ginevra? He ought to learn not to underestimate that which. Poor Potter.
Draco and Harry sat opposite him, raising their glasses with him in an awkward toast to the approaching end of his short bachelor life. They sipped the near-black dragon beer, and - as predicted - Harry coughed dramatically.
"What is this?" he muttered, red faced and looking utterly disgusted.
"Expensive", Draco deadpanned, and shared a grin with his father. Harry rolled his eyes and put his glass firmly on the table, leaning away from it. Lucius slowly rolled the thick glass between his fingers as he eyed the two men speculatively.
"So", he began pleasantly, "what have you got planned for me?"
Draco grimaced. "We didn't actually know we were coming until about an hour ago."
"As I said", Lucius muttered and rolled his eyes. "Pathetic."
Just then, Tilly popped in. With a snap of her fingers, the oval table between them was filled with all kinds of mouth watering and easy-to-eat dishes. To Harry's great relief, she'd also brought some alternative beverages. He eagerly grabbed a butterbeer and all but gargled it before swallowing a mouthful. Draco snickered, but it didn't escape Lucius that Potter wasn't the only one not to touch his glass of dragon beer again.
While they ate and made awkward small-talk, Lucius laid out his plan of how to either make this evening more miserable to them than to him, or mete out a more long-range punishment. They had deprived him of a quiet evening with his tea, his book and his cat, so he thought it fair to say they owed him some sort of amusement. And he was, after all, the groom.
Now that he thought of it, there was one way... A slow, cruel smile curved Lucius's lips as he caught a chocolate frog that was just about to escape its package. Slowly biting the head off the delicious candy, he came to the conclusion that his plan was not perfect - but it would have to do. Watching them squirm and inflicting some long-term torture would have to be enough. Oh, the joys of staying within the limits of the law...
It took him less time than he had thought to lull Draco and Harry into a false sense of security. His plan was to make them comfortable, providing them with food and drink and meaningless conversation, and then strike when they least expected it. It had taken merely half an hour, and here he was. Potter, especially, had loosened up considerably. He probably thought they were friends now.
They were in the midst of a conversation about Lucius's unexpected moral turn. Draco had, half embarrassed, half amused, retold the story of his suspecting his father of holding Hermione hostage, and now Harry was describing his struggle to accept that Lucius was no longer a personification of evil. Apparently - believe it or not - he still found it hard to believe at times.
"Why?" Lucius asked innocently. "I'm perfectly well behaved."
"Mostly, yes", Harry huffed. "But I can't help it when you put that face on. It brings back memories of the war."
"What face?" he asked, confused.
"The one saying you've got some evil plan and think you're too clever to get caught", Harry answered drily.
"Well, 'evil plans' and 'clever' sound just about right", Lucius answered in the same tone, "but if I remember correctly, you were never one to be intimidated."
"Well, Draco's constant wait til my father hears about this didn't scare me", Harry chuckled.
"I didn't say it that much", Draco interjected in an offended tone.
"Almost daily, as I recall", Harry snorted.
Draco crossed his arms petulantly. "You were scared of him, admit it", he taunted.
Harry simply rolled his eyes, and took off his glasses to clean them. A few of Tilly's fresh baked crisps soon caught Draco's eye and he seemed to forget the discussion. Lucius waited in silence as Harry seemed to fall into some sort of silent reverie of his own, and was almost startled when Harry spoke after a few moments' silence.
"You know, Lucius", he began, still stumbling a bit on his first name, "I think I hated you more than I did Tom Riddle."
"Did you?"
"Well", Harry mused. "Dumbledore showed me things about Riddle's childhood, and sort of made me pity him. He was just too twisted." He turned to Lucius. "But you... I didn't know anything about you as a person. All I saw was malice. You were human enough to just appear mean and cruel, and inhuman enough for me to justify hating you."
Lucius nodded slowly. "And now?" he asked. "I take it you don't hate me anymore?"
"No." Harry shook his head decisively.
Lucius smirked. "Ah, see I told Hermione you'd grow to love me one day." Harry's appalled face made his smirk grow wider. The lift in the atmosphere suited his purposes perfectly - it was time.
"No no", he drawled, interrupting whatever Harry was going to say. "I am flattered by the extension of your friendship, Harry", he continued, lacing his toe with sarcasm.
The two young men watched him from across the table as that that same cruel smile once again overtook his features. He didn't bother hiding it and said nothing more, allowing time for all kinds of fears to rush through their heads.
Finally, Harry cleared his throat awkwardly. "Um, Lucius? That face I was talking about... You're doing it now."
"Am I?" Lucius replied with feigned innocense. "And here I was just about to tell you that I'd like to repay you for your kindness in coming here tonight." His guests gulped. "Don't think I haven't seen through your motives in coming here", he tutted.
Draco looked suspicious, Harry merely confused.
"You are too modest, of course, to ask such an honour for yourselves", Lucius continued, nonchalantly studying his nails, "but since you have arranged this lovely stag night, I cannot help but to consider you both as quite my best men. And consequently, I do not scruple to lay further honours upon you."
Both boys visibly paled. "That won't be -" Draco began, but Lucius cut him off, unmoved:
"Draco, my only son", he said, meeting the young man's worried grey eyed. "I have a small task for you. It is nothing to worry about, really. It is only that Hermione quite insisted upon giving free reign with the food and decorations to two of her friends and I need someone to guarantee that they do not go overboard."
"What friends?" Draco asked, clutching his glass.
"Oh, I'm sure they won't give you any trouble", Lucius shrugged, laughing internally. "It is only Luna Lovegood and Mrs Weasley. You'll get along splendidly."
Draco looked as if he had just encountered a flock of angry hippogriffs, desperately trying to think of an escape, but Lucius turned to his companion as if he hadn't noticed.
"And Harry, my dear friend", Lucius said, trying to keep his face straight at the sight of Harry's trepidation. "It will give me such pleasure to hear your speech at our wedding dinner. Hermione, too, will be absolutely thrilled. She considers you as quite her own brother, you know, and you must have so much to say on the topic of our thriving love."
The room was so silent it could have been under a silencing spell. Lucius rather wished he'd had a camera so that he could have captured their faces, but he could always use the pensieve. But then, he abruptly turned to another topic, preventing them from voicing any opposition. When Harry excused himself to the restroom another rough half hour later, however, Draco turned to him.
"Tell me you're not serious about this thing with Mrs Weasley and Lovegood!" he whined.
"Dead serious", Lucius responded coolly.
Draco leaned back against the couch with a disgruntled face. "I could always boycott the wedding", he said after a pause, glancing up at him.
"And disappoint your stepmother?" Lucius asked. "She'd kill you."
Draco groaned in defeat, and brooded in silence for a few moments before he scoffed: "Who gives Lovegood free hands on decorations anyway?"
Draco was more right than he could imagine. No one in their right mind would do such a thing, but Lucius had no intention of telling his son that he'd made that part up. Lovegood wasn't meant to have any influence over the decorations until Lucius had thought of it as an excellent means of punishment. "Oh, I can't deny Hermione anything she asks for", he smirked.
Draco didn't bother answering, but Lucius knew he'd won. He relaxed further into his arm chair, taking a small bite of vanilla fudge along with some dragon beer. That was the secret trick to making it drinkable. He'd devoured almost half the plate Tilly had brought out already, but he was never going to tell Harry.
"How is Eloise?" Lucius asked, changing the topic.
"She seemed very excited about the wedding invitation", Draco said with a shrug.
Lucius frowned. Their invitation list was very restricted: Draco and Astoria, Harry and Ginny, the Weasley's (he'd seen no way out of it), Longbottom and the Lovegood girl, the Grangers, Ms Trolley and a few other select and trusted close friends. Eloise most certainly wasn't invited. Needless to say, neither was Narcissa.
"Astoria's invitation", Draco clarified. "Her mother knows she's not invited, but they live together and the invitation wasn't exactly inconspicuous. I mean, Swiss parchment and gold engravings? I thought you were keeping it simple? Mrs Greengrass can probably smell things like that."
Lucius smirked. "Is that how you speak of your future mother in law?"
"She's even worse than my mother", Draco muttered and rolled his eyes. Soon, however, a cloud settled over his features.
"How's Astoria?" Lucius asked, guessing the turn of his thoughts. "Is she still avoiding you?"
"I've talked more to Eloise than to her." Draco paused. "I haven't seen Astoria in person for a month."
"Has she given no explanation?"
Draco huffed. "At first, she was feeling poorly. Then she went to see a rare spotted unicorn or something. And lately, she's just been busy."
Lucius nodded, although it didn't make much sense to him.
"When exactly did she start avoiding you?" he asked.
Draco considered for a moment, apparently thinking back on the past few weeks. "We were together for New Years. And she stayed at my place for a couple of days. Until the - the fifth, I think. Yeah, Twelfth night. Then, she went to pick up a few things in Diagon Alley before going back to her mother's place, and after that I haven't seen her."
Just at that moment, Harry came back. By unspoken agreement, Draco and Lucius quickly changed the topic. Soon, the two younger men were deep in a discussion about their favourite quidditch teams, and Draco would have looked as carefree as any twenty-two-year old - if it hadn't been for the slight frown he wore even when he smiled.
Lucius's thoughts, however, soon strayed from sports. Diagon Alley on January 5th. The day and place he and Hermione had last been attacked. He barely had time to put his suspicions into coherent thought before the Floo network roared to life. Before either of them could get up, Ginevra Weasley strode into the room. Her red hair was put up in an elaborate braid, surprisingly elegant for a Weasley, but her eyes were worried. Altogether, her rushed breath gave the impression she had been in a hurry to reach them.
"I need to talk to you", she rushed out.
"Me?" Harry asked, getting up from his seat.
"All of you", Ginny responded, frowning as her eyes darted between them and around the room. The next moment, her eyes met Lucius's, and both of them spoke the obvious question:
"Isn't Hermione with you?"