Murder, Magic, Mayhem, and Madness

Hermione is spurned by Severus after weeks of trying to help him recover in St. Mungo's. Devastated, she flees and runs to Lucius.

This is a murder mystery—characters die in this story.

Hunted and Pursued

Lucius left the Ministry and walked north through the streets of London, really trying not to pay attention to the Muggles he passed or the Auror who followed him. He was now officially—separated—unmarried. His trial was concluded, and he'd managed to avoid Azkaban, but at a considerable cost. He was hardly destitute, and now that he was single, without a wife, a wild, maniac sister-in-law, and her husband to support, he had even less of a drain on his finances. He'd bounce back—somehow. Lucius turned the corner and crossed the street, not really paying attention to the traffic.

Narcissa had told Lucius she'd left him because his past association with the Dark Lord had nearly cost her her son's life. Never mind the fact that Draco is my son and heir as well, and that Severus had assured me he'd watch over Draco while he'd been at Hogwarts, he growled discontentedly to himself.

He crossed another street, not heeding where he was going, just simply walking, deep in thought. Nevertheless, I, the boy's father, had nothing to do with the incident in Ol' Oak Hampton—I was in South Amberton! On a raid. And Berkshire! What a bloody fiasco—that had nothing to do with me at all—that was Bellatrix's idea. To show the Dark Lord Draco's metal. And I had nothing to do with the incident with the cursed necklace, the poisoned wine, or the botched job on the Astronomy Tower. I was in Azkaban. And I certainly can't be held responsible for the fact that Draco had almost gotten himself burnt alive with Fiendfyre before the final battle of the war, now can I? Those incidents Draco had gotten himself into, and out of, all on his own arrogance and cunning.

It had irked Draco to no end that he now owed a life debt to both Severus and Potter. Draco thought he had used the life debt by standing up for Severus during his investigation and trial, telling everything he knew about Severus' actions against the Dark Lord. As if that would count as repayment of a life debt, the arrogant twit.

But what had really irritated Narcissa had been housing the Dark Lord, putting up with the constant tirade of that narcissistic megalomaniac, the minatory treatment their family had been subjected to, and having had to cope with the schadenfreude from their peers. It had been too much for Narcissa to bear, and his wife—no, ex-wife—could bear a considerable amount. Carelessly crossing another street, he ignored the angry retort from the driver that swerved to miss him.

Lucius had to admit that after housing Voldemort in his home, he'd really seen the wizard in a whole new light. He wasn't the charismatic, powerful wizard he'd been before the accident in Godric's Hallow had reduced him to a mere soul fragment. The Dark Lord that Lucius had joined had been a vibrant, powerful, well-learned, energetic wizard with enigmatic ideas and a singleness of purpose. What came back, the second rising as the Dark Lord called it, was a sexless, inhuman paranoid sociopath, grossly demented, and ill of temper. Not to mention a being that was grotesque and barely human in appearance.

Lucius turned the corner and crossed the street again, cutting between the moving traffic. He'd been shocked, frightened, and ensnared, unable to disavow his place among the Death Eaters or face death—his and his family's. His only assurance was that he'd been favored because of his social standing and his wealth. Well, most of the time.

Lucius crossed another street, as he walked aimlessly. Bella, of course, hadn't seen the change in the Dark Lord, nor had any of the other groveling miscreants I'd once called friends—no brothers. Miserable and degenerate criminals they are, masochistic and schizophrenic personalities the lot, sexual perverts and deviants… now all locked away for life in Azkaban or being hunted like animals. He caught a sight of the wizard tailing him, a condition of his parole. All the better. If any of my brethren find me or come to me for aid, I'm supposed to turn them in. This way I can still claim deniability.

Lucius had mixed feelings where his son was concerned. Draco had been one of them, a captured Death Eater, investigated right after the family surrendered at the end of the final battle. Since he hadn't been considered a threat, his trial was quick and with relative consequences. He was staying at the summer home on the coast with is mum. Her house. Where she'd taken her belongings and her house-elfs and relocated.

Thus was he deep in his own thoughts when Lucius nearly collided with Hermione Granger as she came around a corner, tears streaming down her cheeks. In an uncharacteristic move he'd grabbed her to steady her on her feet and offered her a handkerchief.

"Oh, sorry, I…" she said and then remembered to thank him, wiping her eyes as she nearly crumpled at his feet sobbing.

He conjured a bench on the pavement. "Miss Granger, come sit," he said and pulled her with him to sit down. It was obvious she'd had a pint or two, possibly three of some liquor, since she'd simply opened up to him when he'd asked her what was wrong.

"Nothing, everything. I just kept firing off curses, you know. I didn't even care what I was casting, just everything and whichever just came to mind first—without thinking about what I was doing. I killed someone! I saw Colin—he was so little… and he was dead. Tonks was lying face down. And the wall caved in and the explosions. I was using curses I thought I would never use—on people! There were screams—I still hear them. Fred is dead from a rock. Just like that." She snapped her fingers, then blew he nose and continued. "He doesn't even like me. I shouldn't have left him—but I didn't know, and I had no time, but I came back. He was gone and then he was in the room next to mine. Because Kingsley wanted us to have private rooms and all."

She sniffed and he freshened the handkerchief, making her use it again. "It was war, Hermione. We all did what we had to."

She looked up at him, her eyes so full of tears he wondered how she could see. "But I didn't! I didn't do anything! Sure, I gave him a potion and poured Dittany on his wound, but then I left him to die!" Her sobs became heavier, and she folded over, her arms on her lap as she cried.

Lucius tried comforting her with gentle rubbing on her back, and then did something even more uncharacteristic; he embraced the young woman, allowing her to sob against his chest.

In her mostly incoherent babbling, he'd learned how she'd tried to save friends, lost so many she cared about, and almost lost her parents.

He learned that Severus was laid up in St. Mungo's and that Miss Granger had taken care of him, nursed him back to life and preformed therapies on him—whatever that all meant. He supposed it meant that she had played Healer, but why the Healers at St. Mungo's had allowed that eluded him. However, she was distraught, feeling a loss of purpose and was desperately lonely. Lucius could understand lonely.

He'd offered to take her to a pub for dinner. She'd accepted, much to his amazement. Surprisingly, the girl was quite tolerable, even when drunk. He took her home with him and laid her in Narcissa's bed. He'd planned on shagging her, using her, but seeing her lying in the satin sheets he'd realized that here was his salvation. He'd seduce her. Here in his ex-wife's bed was the most promising, most well respected, and potentially the most influential witch of the day, Miss Hermione Granger. Her efforts in the Dark Years of the Dark Lord's second rising were already legendary. She was well acknowledged for her contributions to Hogwarts, fighting bravely during the war, and for her intelligence as well as for her magical ability.

So Lucius had set his sights on making Hermione his. He cast a version of the Imperius on the sleeping girl that wasn't yet well known by the Ministry.

When she woke, Hermione stayed with him, utilizing the comforts of the manor and enjoying the beauty of the gardens. He enjoyed toying with her, dangling his large library collection like a Gurdyroot in front of a goat.

He brewed her a special mead, a rich savorous honeyed-mead that had the power to excite the drinker's sense of taste and of smell.

When he'd persuaded her to stay the night, he chose to tantalize her with passionate kisses and sensual caresses, gentlemanly stopping before things got too far, then left her alone in Narcissa's bedroom rather than simply having sex with her.

The next day, he took her out to an exclusive bistro that had once been a quaint seaside cottage and for a long walk along the shore. Hermione had loved it.

He treated his outings with her with the same careful planning with which he'd carried on his affairs and trysts. He selected exclusive pubs, bistros, and cafés seldom frequented by any who'd recognize them, claiming that he simply desired to get to know her without getting the attention of the press. Hermione had been truly grateful for his consideration, having spent most of her time after the war hiding from the press in Severus' room in St. Mungo's while she recovered from her own battle wounds and scars. Lucius was certain that many of the scars she mentioned were psychological since he'd seen little physical scarring on her person.

By the third day, he took her shopping for robes and lingerie. He'd even tolerated going to a place called Harrods's, and he allowed Hermione to take him to a Muggle drug store for her hygiene needs. That night, he persuaded her to soak with him in his indoor swimming pool.

He brewed her his special mead, again, adding in a few drops of asparagus root, quince, chasteberry, damiana, fennel, and other ingredients to diminish Hermione's inhibition, with almond and citrus to balance the flavors and two more personal secret ingredients to create a very special and little known potion. By adding the potion ingredients, it heightened her pleasure of the drink, and he'd been pleased to see her give herself over to the enraptured enjoyment the mead induced, watching her with immense enjoyment as she exhibited the peculiar enticing characteristics of passion with each sip. It took every ounce of his self-control to remain in his chair, sipping on his wine as he watched her, and not take her right there on the fur rug by the fire. With the added ingredients, consumed occasionally, the savorous honeyed-mead was harmless, but if overindulged, was potent.

She was a prize he'd wanted, and few women could truly resist him when he'd turned on the charm, so to speak. Of course, it helped to have a well laid out potions lab, a stable of horses and Abraxan with extensive grounds to ride, and a considerable library at his disposal. Lucius had two actually; the second library was a secret even from Draco and especially from Hermione, accessible only through a well-hidden panel, where he kept his more questionable items and tomes. And the specially brewed bottles of honeyed-mead that Hermione was beginning to love.

~oo0oo~

Severus returned to Hogwarts the day he'd been discharged from St. Mungo's. The Headmaster's suite was just as he'd left it, and not much different than when it had been occupied by Dumbledore. The loo was soft yellow with white trim and curtains and decorated with sunflowers. The towels and rugs were lemon sherbet yellow. The study was his favorite room, with sturdy comfortable brown furniture, sturdy wood tables, and a thick black rug on the hardwood floors. The walls were covered with bookshelves interspaced with large windows. He could even tolerate the dark, hunter green drapes and pillows. The Master's bedroom was mostly in dark honey woods, the windows and bed draped in taupe and burgundy. His sheets were cream, and freshly laundered as if the elves had just made the bed.

He used the eleven days prior to the start of school to handle the requests of his staff, answer correspondences, and approve course curriculums.

When Minerva asked him about Hermione, Severus looked up from her curriculum proposal. "I assume the witch is well, as she was discharged two days prior to my release."

"Severus, that is not what I mean at all," she said haughtily. "I know that you two spent a lot of time together."

He exhaled slowly to suppress his flare of temper. "She spent a great amount of time in my room, yes. It was by no means—together. I was unable to leave or send her away." He picked up her requests and held them out to her. "I have approved all…"

Minerva set her fists firmly on her hips and scowled at him. "Severus Snape! After all that poor girl did for you—and you hexed her from your room!"

"Then you are well aware how the girl fares," he said nonchalantly, his hand dropping to his desk. "In regards to the assistant you are being assigned…"

"You should be grateful to Hermione!" she exclaimed, something he'd been told repeatedly in the last few days. "While Potter knelt beside you, apparently staring at the wall in the Shack, listening to the Dark Lord rant, Hermione had presence of mind to try and help you. She'd poured essence of Dittany on your miserable neck, and poured the contents of a vial she'd found in your hand down your throat!"

He'd already been told about what had happened in the Shack, from Hermione herself. She'd given him a potion she'd not bothered to identify or knew its purpose or its dosage. He had to forcefully relax his jaw as he slammed his fist holding the parchments on his desk. "May I remind you—yet again, that this—our interaction while we were in the hospital is none of your concern," he told her in no uncertain terms.

"Not my business?" she said, her voice rising an octave. "Not my—it is my business if the girl is returning to Hogwarts to finish her education. Of course it's my business."

"Then you should get your facts straight! Yes, she poured a dose of the potion—one I meant for the Healers at St. Mungo's to have—effectively making me swallow the same potion I'd created to save Mr. Weasley several years earlier—again! Twice!" he said, forcefully keeping his vice soft so as not to strain his vocal cords. "However, I had already taken some of the potion, a full dose mind you, just prior to entering the Shack to where I'd been summoned. Dumbledore and I were prepared for the event, knowing that at the end I would have to fight—to blatantly show Potter which side I was truly on. I was to kill the Dark Lord's snake so Potter could defeat him once and for all!"

Minerva looked astounded. "She saved your miserable life!"

He laced his fingers together and clenched them tightly. "Didn't you hear me? I'd already swallowed a dose that day when I'd been summoned to that miserable Shack. But two doses, so close together, had been an overdose to my system." And I'd barely had time to cast the spells to release my memories for Potter before I'd fallen into that coma. "Not only did she overdose me, there wasn't a sample for the Healers to match. Fortunately, I had the same Healer Arthur had when he'd been admitted, and he—thank Merlin—remembered the potion. Not how to brew it, but knew I had it in my files. A house-elf came here and got several of the Hogwarts house-elves to search my quarters, lab, and classroom for the formula and directions. If anything I owe my life to these little guys—the Hogwarts house-elves—they saved my life! Not Miss Granger!"

Minerva blanched, and the house-elf who had just brought in the tea was standing beside the desk, looking at him as if gobsmacked, huge tears in her eyes, trembling so badly the service rattled. Severus took the service and thanked the elf, who simply stood there staring at him in wide-eyed wonder. "Thank you. You may go." The elf bowed on instinct and popped out.

"Miss Granger then used the empty vial to put my memories in, so Potter could see them in Dumbledore's Pensive. The vial I'd meant for the Healers to find on my person! Healer Pyre apparently told Healer Karismian about the potions I'd made for Mr. Weasley and, thankfully, Healer Karismian deciphered my notes in a timely manner and produced the potions I needed."

"But I read about Miss Granger's therapies and the progress they made in your recovery," Minerva said, adding sugar to her tea absentmindedly.

Severus sighed. Of course that made the papers. Was there a fly in the room, who told a bird, who told that scallywag reporter…? "Yes, Miss Granger was very beneficial in my recovery. Now, may we discuss the matter at hand?"

"So, you are not going to be seeing Miss Granger?" Minerva asked.

"Yes, apparently I am. Every day," Severus stated. Because, apparently the gods aren't through punishing me. "How many of the cages need replacing, Minerva?"

"Twenty-nine. They are beyond repair. The students used them to throw at Death Eaters." She sipped her tea as Severus signed her request. "She's a lovely girl. Too good for you, but smitten none the less, or so I have been told."

"Minerva," he growled menacingly.

~oo0oo~

Hermione had stayed with Lucius until Saturday evening when she'd insisted he come with her to the Burrow for Sunday dinner. He had been his most persuasive in declining, claiming that he of all people would not be welcomed at the Burrow. Not yet. He'd had to remind her of the first time they'd met in Flourish and Blotts, a whole other lifetime ago, and the animosity between himself and Weasley senior. Hermione had laughed at the memory and kissed him, telling him she understood. He'd promised to try and mend the past with Mr. Weasley, but only if she'd come back to him.

She came back on Sunday night, and the next day he took her to buy her school things, a few new robes, a lady's broom, treats for her half-kneasle, an owl, and a new cauldron. Not to mention half the bookstore. They'd shared dinner in the garden under the stars, and had kissed passionately as she sipped her honeyed-mead. He'd brought her to orgasm easily enough with his fingers, three times before she'd passed out on him. But he felt incredibly randy since he hadn't been able to make love to her just yet.

He carried her to his bed and watched her sleep a few minutes, then plucked out a few of Hermione's hairs and slipped quietly from the room.

The whore didn't care as she pocketed the Galleons and drank the Polyjuice potion again. Lucius watched her transform and pulled her to him, savoring the young body with a hungry desire that soon, very soon, would be his.

School starts ~

~~oooo0oooo~~

Author's Notes:

Many thanks to my betas, Pookah, CourtneyRochelle, and MadBrilliant for helping me clean up my many mistakes. I really appreciate it more than you can possibly know. I'd be ashamed to show my story to anyone without your invaluable help. And to era1960 for being there when I needed to bounce ideas and have a second opinion.