Thanks to Adie for Brit Picking and correcting my mistakes!
And thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far! Keep it up:)))
xxxxx
"She's insisting on a huge wedding, of course!" Ginny exclaims. "With hundreds and hundreds of guests, but has the old bat lifted a finger to help or offered a single Knut for the cause? Hell no, she hasn't!"
The Order of Merlin, Second Class, jiggles slightly on Ginny's robes as she shakes her fist with indignation.
Hermione's own medal is larger and heavier than Ginny's. It has weighed her down since receiving it that morning and Hermione can't wait to take it off.
Only a few moments longer...
Ginny continues to seethe about Neville's grandmother as they walk towards Hermione's suite so that Ginny can borrow a new pair of stockings, having ripped her only good pair during the day. The war may have brought the Weasley family a bit of fame, but it certainly hasn't come with any fortune.
A low, guttural moan greets the pair as they enter the rooms. Startled, Hermione investigates the sounds coming from her mother's bedroom. The door is slightly ajar and Hermione hesitantly pushes it open, a little anxious of what she may see. She hadn't liked those looks Quintus gave Doris last night.
Doris is lying on the bed, seemingly naked under a white sheet. Quintus hovers over her, working his marble fingers into Doris' back as he massages her.
"Hi, sweetie!" Doris says cheerfully. "You really ought to let Quintus have a go at you. His hands are like magic!"
She giggles at her little joke.
Hermione does not share the laughter.
"Mum!" she shrieks, noticing the large scar on her mother's cheek. "What happened to your face?"
Doris touches the mark as she begins the tale of her harrowing encounter with Medusa.
Hermione quickly becomes angry. The hotel's management is going to get a talking to like they won't believe. So enraged is Hermione, she barely hears her mother as she gushes about the handsome blond man who saved her.
"He was so gallant! I didn't even get his name," she adds with a touch of sadness.
Hermione feels disappointed as well, wanting to thank the man who came to her mother's aid.
She pulls out her wand and tries to charm away the scar. Unfortunately, healing spells have never been Hermione's forte and she has barely made a difference.
"Stop fussing," says Doris, waving a dismissive hand. She is eager to get back to Quintus' ministrations. "Go and look in the sitting room; a gift arrived for you today."
In the sitting room, Ginny is holding the gift, turning it over in her hands and inspecting it from every angle.
"Hermione!" she cries, "I don't believe it. You got a L'Amour Contractuel gift!"
"A what?"
"A L'Amour Contractuel gift," Ginny repeats in a horrendous French accent. She thrusts the package at Hermione.
Hermione gingerly takes the gift from Ginny. She can feel some sort of magic radiating from the purple box.
"What's a L'Amour Contractuel gift? I've never heard of such a thing."
"Most people haven't," says Ginny. "It's a French tradition that fell out of favor centuries ago. Even most Purebloods know nothing of the practice. I only know because it was in one of Mum's romance novels." She blushes slightly. "I just read it for the naughty bits."
"But what is it?"
"L'Amour Contractuel is a type of Wizarding courtship," Ginny explains. "It almost always ends in marriage. It is initiated when a wizard gives a gift to the witch he wants to marry. By accepting the gift, the witch is giving her permission to be courted. Acceptance is assumed if the witch uses the gift or does not return it within a fortnight. Parents can accept the gift for their children. The wizard also needs the parents' approval before the courtship can proceed."
Hermione finds her interest in the gift waning with Ginny's explanation. She has received several crackpot marriage proposals since entering the public eye.
"So…another nutter who wants to marry me…"
Ginny shakes her head vigorously. "No, Hermione. L'Amour Contractuel is not to be messed with. It's legally and magically binding. There are severe fines and penalties if either party doesn't hold to the rules. Whoever it is must be very serious."
Hermione wants to laugh, but Ginny looks so very solemn.
"Open it," prods Ginny, "See who it's from."
Instead, Hermione drops the gift on the table and pokes at it with her wand. "I don't think I should. There's some sort of magic in this box. It's probably a trick."
"L'Amour Contractuel gifts are always charmed to let the giver know if it's been accepted."
"And that's according to this book you read?"
"Yes."
"Hmmm," says Hermione, thoughtfully chewing her bottom lip. She is not about to trust second-hand information from a cheap bodice ripper. She taps the box, performing a myriad of diagnostic spells she learned during the war.
Indeed, the box is only charmed with notification spells. There is nothing in the gift that will harm her if she opens it.
Still, Hermione is wary. This entire L'Amour Contractuel business is disconcerting, especially since she knows so little about it.
"Aren't you going to open it?" asks Ginny, bustling with curiosity. "It's probably jewelry. The first gift usually is."
Hermione pushes the box towards Ginny. "You open it, if you're so interested."
"I can't," says Ginny. "Only the recipient can open the gift."
Though feeling she is making a mistake, Hermione pulls the golden cords off the box. She lifts the lid - and gasps.
Ginny nudges in closer. "Oh, Hermione!" she says in breathless whisper. "It must have cost the earth!"
Hermione doesn't doubt that as she looks upon the sparkling necklace contained within the box. The necklace is collar-like, with large, flat, square-cut diamonds set down the whole length. Despite the number of diamonds - Hermione stops counting after twenty - the piece is understated, not too flashy.
"Who would send me something like this?" Hermione asks in bewilderment.
"Look at the card, Hermione! Look at the card!"
Hermione pulls a previously unnoticed card from the box. No words are written on the card; there is only what appears to be a small, embossed family crest. Like most Wizarding crests, it does not follow the traditional rules of Muggle heraldry. In fact, only the standard heraldic shield and a small banner with indeterminable script remain. Contained within the shield is a rather sinister-looking tree. On closer inspection Hermione sees that the green on the branches are not made of leaves, but dozens of tiny, writhing snakes.
"Well, this doesn't tell me a thing!" says Hermione. "How am I supposed to know who sent it?"
"It's a family crest," says Ginny, taking the card from Hermione. "L'Amour Contractuel was only practiced by rich Purebloods; those of Malfoy's ilk. They'd know exactly who sent it by the crest alone."
"Do you recognize it?"
"No," says Ginny with a shake of her head. "My family never really held to any of that snooty stuff. It does look positively Slytherin though."
Hermione agrees, and takes the card from Ginny to scrutinize it, hoping some clue or hint will manifest itself. The image is somewhat familiar to her, as if she has seen it before. She closes her eyes and searches her memories.
Less than a minute later, she remembers the crest.
It was at the very beginning of her sixth year, on the Hogwarts Express. While doing her Prefect rounds she had to break up a skirmish between Draco Malfoy and Theodore Nott. Theodore stood next to a trunk with that very same image etched upon the lid. Hermione has a clear memory of that incident because it is the first time she has ever seen another Slytherin go against Malfoy.
"Theodore Nott!" says Hermione. "He had a trunk with that picture on it!"
"Of course!" exclaims Ginny, grinning. She is well aware of the long-standing flirtation between the two. "It has to be! He is rather stodgy and old-fashioned about things."
Hermione frowns at the description of her friend, but cannot deny the truth of it. Although Theodore displays an amazing amount of open-mindedness given his background, he is very much 'old school', deeply immersed in the ways of the Pureblooded. Invoking some old Wizarding tradition is exactly the sort of thing he may do if he wants to marry a girl.
Good Lord! He wants to marry her!
This is quite a shock. Hermione likes Theodore--but marriage? Has she given some indication that her feelings run deeper than they do?
She and Theodore need to have a nice long talk. She certainly wants to date the boy, but marriage is completely off her radar. Something she won't even consider for years. In fact, she thinks Ginny and Neville are quite foolish for committing themselves at so young an age.
Even so, she is very flattered that Theodore thinks so much of her. And to express his desire with such a lovely gift!
Hermione lifts the necklace from the box, admiring the way the gems sparkle in the sunlight. Something compels her to put the necklace on, to see how it looks around her neck.
"Careful, Hermione," Ginny says suddenly. "Putting it on is the same as accepting it. Are you going to accept it?"
"No," says Hermione as she carefully places the necklace back in the box. "I like Theodore; just not that way. At least not yet."
Ginny nods. "Let him down easy."
A little later that evening, Hermione contemplates how she can dissuade Theodore as she prepares for the Survivor's Ball the Ministry is holding that night. She'll have to be gentle about it. She doesn't want to hurt Theodore's feelings.
The necklace lays in its box on the top of Hermione's dresser. She likes looking at it. She gets a warm, giddy feeling in knowing that Theodore really likes her. The necklace is proof of that. Hermione supposes it might be fun to be courted in some grand Wizarding style and every now and then she is tempted to accept the gift.
However, after Ginny's information, she is not ready for what L'Amour Contractuel entails.
Theodore is to attend the ball tonight, so she will have to get him alone and explain that to him.
And if she feels bold enough...she'll suggest they see each other just as a man and a woman, with no archaic traditions involved.
Satisfied with her course of action, Hermione concentrates on getting ready. She slips on her dress robes. They are made of a sheer, deep blue material that is so light, Hermione feels as if she is wearing nothing at all. The neckline is cut quite a bit lower than she likes, but a quick charm takes care of that problem.
As Hermione is applying a small amount of makeup, Doris enters the bedroom. She wears a dress of pale, yellow silk. It is entirely Muggle but styled in such a way that it will not stand out too much in the Wizarding world.
Doris immediately notices the necklace. "Hermione! Was this your gift? It's beautiful! And very dear by the looks of it."
"Yes," says Hermione. "It's from a friend, but I can't accept it."
"Why not?"
"It wouldn't be appropriate."
Doris clearly disagrees but does not press the issue. She joins Hermione at the dressing table and picks up a brush to begin the very daunting task of taming Hermione's bushy mass of curls.
It takes almost a half hour to corral the unruly mane into something sleek and sophisticated. Hermione doesn't tell her mother the same effect is easily achieved in less than a minute with a quick rubdown of Sleekeasy's and a few well-placed charms. She knows her mother has missed this. Hermione may have never seen the appeal of spending a great deal of time on her appearance but Doris is a completely different matter. In fact, most of Hermione's pre-Hogwart memories of her mother are of staring at her through a mirror as she pretends Hermione is her own personal Sindy doll.
When she is finished, Doris steps back to admire her handiwork. She presses her palms together and sighs.
"You look so beautiful," she coos. "But something is missing."
Hermione shrugs as she bends down to pull her slippers on. She feels Doris' hands move around her neck and something heavy and cold fall against it.
The necklace!
No!" cries Hermione as Doris clasps the necklace together. A chime sounds in Hermione ear and she feels a tiny a spark of magic. Most likely to alert Theodore that the necklace has been accepted.
"There you go," says Doris, not noticing the horrified look on her daughter's face. "It looks lovely on you."
Hermione clutches at her throat. "Mum! I told you I wasn't accepting it!"
Doris waves a flippant hand. "Just wear it for the night. It'd be a waste not too. You can return it in the morning."
Hermione hopes that is true. She breathes deeply and tries to relax. It's just Theodore, she tells herself. He is a rational boy and will understand she didn't mean to accept his gift.
She doesn't know why a sudden feeling of foreboding overtakes her .
xxxxx
Outraged gasps and hushed whispers follow Lucius as he moves through the large gathering of wizards ands witches at the Survivor's Ball.
A fierce glare takes care of his hecklers and they scatter like ants under a magnifying glass.
Lucius smiles. It pleases him to know he can still inspire a healthy amount of fear.
His smile deepens when he sees Severus Snape sitting alone at the bar. Severus is one of the few people Lucius still considers a friend.
For years, Lucius knew of Severus' duplicity. During the war, he was a double agent to both sides, providing information that on the surface seemed so very important, but ultimately did not affect the outcome either way. Severus had not truly aligned himself to a side until it became clear which would be victorious. A dangerous and potentially deadly game, but Severus pulled it off beautifully.
Lucius can't help but admire such a masterful deception to two of the most powerful wizards the world has ever known.
It had not been their years of friendship that stayed Lucius' tongue. No, Lucius would have revealed Severus' ruse in an instant if he thought it would have benefited him. It would not have, however. The Dark Lord's favor had not been what it once was. In his second rising, the Dark Lord became a man stingy in his rewards and swift in his punishment. To reveal Severus as a traitor would have only resulted in his death and Lucius getting a mere pat on the back.
So Lucius kept the information to himself, intending to use it when it would be most opportune. Lucius is glad he stayed silent, for when he had decided to change sides it was Severus who convinced Dumbledore to let Lucius into their circle. Had it not been for him, Lucius would surely have met the same fate as the other Death Eaters.
"Severus," Lucius says jovially as he joins him at the bar. "I'm surprised to see you here. I thought you said a herd of raging hippogriffs could not make you attend."
Severus growls and knocks back a steaming shot of green liquid. "The Ministry threatened to revoke my Potions license if I did not. And what of you? I heard Minister Fudge himself asked you not to come as your presence would be a painful reminder to the Dark Lord's victims."
"Yes, well…since when do I ever take orders from Fudge?" asks Lucius. He swivels in his stool so that he can look out at the ballroom. "I'm here to see Hermione Granger."
Severus stares at Lucius through a veil of greasy, black hair. "Why would you be interested in a Gryffindor Mudblood?"
"Watch your tongue!" Lucius chides with mock censure. "That's my future wife you're slighting. I've initiated L'Amour Contractuel."
"You've what?"
Lucius grins at the gobsmacked man. "Come now, Severus. I think I could do a lot worse than a sweet, pretty witch warming my bed."
And Hermione does clean up very well. That is one less concern. Lucius espies her sitting amongst a group of Weasleys far across the ballroom. The necklace he has given her hangs around her neck. She touches it intermittently and looks out into the crowd, as though searching for someone.
She doesn't know it, but she is looking for him.
Severus shakes his head. "I don't know what you're playing at Lucius, but watch yourself. Miss Granger is not some sweet, innocent girl. She fought with as much ruthlessness as hardened Aurors during the war." Severus leans in, as if he is about to depart some highly secretive information. "Even before that, at the tender age of sixteen she sent Dolores Umbridge into a herd of angry centaurs without a bit of remorse."
"Yes, I know," drawls Lucius. And Lucius also knows of Hermione's involvement in the permanent disfiguration of the Edgecomb girl. The two incidents top a long list of great and fascinating misdeeds. This hidden cruel streak of Hermione's has come as both a surprise and delight to Lucius. There is hope for the girl yet.
On the other side of the ballroom, Hermione walks away from her friends and goes out to the balcony. Seeing his chance to speak with Hermione alone, Lucius rises.
"Excuse me, Severus."
Like most of the Tuckin Hotel, the balcony is bewitched. Instead of overlooking downtown London, as it should, majestic mountains stretch out into the distance. Hermione is alone on the balcony, staring pensively at the landscape as she fingers the necklace around her neck.
She turns, hearing Lucius's footsteps. Her lips press into a firm, displeased line.
"Mr. Malfoy," she says curtly as she heads back towards the ballroom. "You would have enough nerve to show your face here."
"I hadn't planned on it, Miss Granger," Lucius says airily. "Until I received notification that you had accepted my gift. I was extremely surprised and simply had to see if it was true."
His words stop Hermione dead in her tracks. She turns on her heel to stare at Lucius with bulging eyes.
"Y-your gift?"
"Yes," says Lucius, moving in closer to Hermione. He slowly runs a finger across the necklace. She flinches at his touch. "My gift."
"No!" she cries, shaking her head in denial. "It can't be."
"Of course, it is," says Lucius. "Didn't you recognize the Malfoy crest? It is quite well known."
Lucius lifts his right hand to her so that she can see the large ring adorning his forth finger. Carved on the flat onyx surface is miniature replica of the family seal.
Hermione pales. "But I thought--Oh God!"
'Don't tell me you accepted an obviously charmed gift without knowing for certain who sent it," says Lucius. "That is very foolish and dangerous. And I was told you were a sensible witch."
It is exactly as Lucius has hoped. That she would not have recognized the crest or the purpose of the gift had been a big gamble to take, but it had apparently paid off. The fates, it seems, are with him.
"I didn't mean to accept it!" Hermione says in a choked voice. "My mother-"
She storms off, letting out a series of curses foul enough to make a Knockturn Alley vagrant proud. Halfway, she pauses and turns back to him.
"Why?" she asks, her brown eyes blazing with anger. "Why would you send me an L'Amour Contractuel gift?"
"Oh, so you do know what it is," says Lucius calmly, but with a hint of genuine surprise. "Then you must also know that L'Amour Contractuel generally results in marriage."
"You can't possibly be interested in me like that!"
"No?" asks Lucius, tilting his head. "Why not? You are an intelligent witch. Very respected by the community and pleasant enough to look upon. I dare say any wizard would consider himself lucky to have you by his side."
"While you were standing there listing my virtues, you forgot one! I'm Muggle-born. You might have fought against Voldemort but you made it clear that you still think my kind are nothing but filth mucking up your perfect Pureblood world."
"I cannot deny your…ancestry gave me pause, but in the end I decided it was unimportant."
"How very big of you!"
"Yes, I thought so myself," says Lucius, ignoring her sarcasm. Belatedly, Lucius realizes he is telling some semblance of the truth. A close enough truth. "You may question me under Veritaserum," he adds. "You will find my answers do not change."
"Rather empty offer," snaps Hermione. "Given the difficulty of procuring Veritaserum!"
"Not quite, Miss Granger," says Lucius. "Are we not both acquainted with England's premier Potions maker? I believe I last saw Severus at the bar. Shall we seek his services immediately?"
Hermione doesn't answer. She reaches up to remove the necklace from her neck.
"Take it back!" she says, holding the necklace out to him.
"I'm afraid that is not possible," says Lucius. "You have already accepted the gift. It's yours now."
"It was an accident!"
"That hardly matters. The requirements of L'Amour Contractuel have been satisfied."
Hermione glares at Lucius with such burning hatred he believes he may go up in flames. He smirks as Hermione silently takes a step back, and then another. She is several feet away before she flees entirely, her slippers clicking loudly against the stone floor.
A small smile remains on Lucius' lips. That went better than he had anticipated. He had truly expected her to hex his bollocks off.
xxxxx
Lucius Malfoy!
Hermione still can't believe it.
Lucius – fucking - Malfoy!
God! Why had she assumed the trunk was Theodore's? It must have belonged to Draco.
Her stomach churns with nausea.
Lucius Malfoy!
Hermione doesn't know what kind of game Malfoy is playing, but not for one second does she believe he is actually interested in marrying her. It must be some plot, some perverted, twisted plot to get at her.
But why? Why her?
She has never done anything to him - not personally, anyway. The two met on the battlefields once or twice before Malfoy changed sides. Hermione hexed him with a number of nasty spells, just as he had done to her.
That is war, though. Nothing personal about it.
There must be something else.
Hermione fiddles with the necklace as she paces the circumference of the round couch in the lobby. She wants to throw the necklace away, but does not. Having no pockets in her robes, she has no choice but to put it back on.
Perhaps it isn't her specifically. Perhaps she is merely the means to something bigger. Some great revenge against Muggle-borns.
That's a possibility.
How very enraged Malfoy must be that the status of so many Muggle-borns has been elevated after the war while he, a Pureblood from a very old family, is forced to wallow in the muck and the mire.
If Malfoy wants revenge, it makes sense that he'll go after her. She is probably the best known Muggle-born in the world currently.
He must want to humiliate her or blacken her name. Make some terrible example out of her.
But how can he achieve this through L'Amour Contractuel?
Hermione doesn't know but she needs to find out. She needs to learn everything she can, as soon as she can.
Dismayingly, Hermione realizes that it is very late on a Saturday evening. There will be no bookstores or libraries open for her to do her research.
However, there is the book that Ginny mentioned. That silly romance novel. Hermione doubts she will find much useful or accurate information within its pages but it is all she has at the moment, and she can't idly stand by and do nothing.
Hermione shoves party goers out of her way as she marches into the ballroom. She stops for a moment to look over the crowd in order to ensure she doesn't run into Malfoy. Relieved the bastard is nowhere in sight, she presses forward, finding Ginny wrapped in Neville's arms on the dance floor.
"Ginny," says Hermione, rudely pulling her away from Neville. "I need that book you read. The book with L'Amour Contractuel.
"Why?" asks Ginny. She looks at the necklace around Hermione's neck. "Theodore didn't understand you accepted his gift by accident?"
"No, it's not that." Hermione sighs. She doesn't want to tell Ginny that it is Lucius Malfoy who is her unwanted suitor. Ever since nearly killing her with Tom Riddle's diary, Ginny has hated Lucius Malfoy with as much fervor as she does Voldemort. If told, Ginny will raise such a high stink, everyone will know Malfoy is trying to court her. Many will not believe Hermione hasn't purposely accepted his gift. She can't have that. "Please! Can you go and get it?"
"Right now?"
"Yes, please."
Ginny casts a wistful look in Neville's direction but agrees. "All right. I need to Apparate to the Burrow."
Hermione all but drags Ginny to the Apparation zone. Five minutes later Ginny returns with dog-eared book called Moonlight's Passion by Delilah St. Croix. The image on the cover loops, replaying the same scene as a wizard who looks disturbingly like Sirius Black sensually runs a hand down the nude back of a very wanton, blonde witch. Hermione immediately glamours the cover so that it looks like a respectable treatise on new Transfiguration spells.
She would have preferred a little privacy as she reads the book, but it will arise suspicion if she just disappears. Plus, she can't leave Doris alone with all the talk of the war flying about. Faking an illness may have worked, but Doris is sure to follow Hermione to their suite and fuss over her like a baby. Not that she actually needs to fake anything. Hermione does feel ill, extremely ill.
She goes to the ballroom and joins Doris at their table. That Hermione is reading a book in the middle of a grand ball is not much of a shock to anyone. Everyone dismisses her as being her regular swotty self. Except for Ginny. She watches Hermione with concern and confusion.
Hermione has always been a very fast reader and makes quick work of the book. She endures lengthy, lurid descriptions of "quivering honey pots" and "thick wands of hard Oak" to get to the meat of the matter.
The book contains a great deal of information about L'Amour Contractuel, if it is to be trusted. In addition to what Ginny has told her, Hermione learns that L'Amour Contractuel is usually initiated by wizards who want to pursue a witch who is considered above him in station. The gifts given are always very expensive or rare to entice the witch and her family into acceptance. For the first gift given, the wizard is granted one personal meeting with the witch. Additional gifts are not necessary, but if given and accepted the witch must see the wizard at least once per gift. If the witch refuses to see the wizard, the girl's family will be severely fined.
Most receiving families like the practice because it provides an easy way for them to increase their coffers. In the past, many had their daughters engaged in L'Amour Contractuel with several wizards at the same time, drawing out the courtships even though they had no intention of letting a marriage take place. This occurred well into the late 1600s until new laws were enacted. With the new rules, only one L'Amour Contractuel engagement can be had at a time, and after the tenth gift is given, either party has the option of forcing the other into marriage. Failure to comply results in additional harsh fines, or if one is truly desirous of the marriage, the matter will be settled with a Duel.
L'Amour Contractuel is ended if a gift is given but not accepted. Or it can be ended if more than two fortnights pass without the giving of a gift. Then either party can send the other an official letter of Disengagement.
The Wizarding courtship seems fairly straightforward, thinks Hermione, though a bit like socially acceptable prostitution. For the life of her, Hermione can't understand how Malfoy will get his revenge using it. It isn't as if she'll be foolish enough to accept any more gifts from him.
And there is that clause about needing parental permission. Accepting the gift means nothing without Doris' approval for Malfoy to court her.
Hermione looks over at her mother laughing loudly at something Mr. Weasley is saying. There isn't a snowball's chance in hell that Doris will ever agree to let some grotty old wizard see her. It won't happen in a million years.
Surely Malfoy knows that. So why use L'Amour Contractuel for his schemes?
That is the incredibly baffling question at hand. Perhaps there is more to L'Amour Contractuel than the book divulges. Hermione vows to find out at the first opportunity.
xxxxx
And there's chapter two! Please let me know what you thought! The good and/or bad. Chapter 3 will be up soon. As I said, it all depends on my time constraints. Though a lot of this fic is already written, it is only in it's rough draft state and I have to spend a lot of time making it presentable.