Truthfully, I just suck.
Thanks to everyone who took the time to review. I greatly appreciate it.
And a huge thanks to Adie for the Brit-picking and such.
xxxxx
Hermione mentally curses Malfoy with the foulest hexes she can bring to mind.
The man clearly doesn't know the definition of "dreadfully slow".
Wiltshire's countryside is but a blur before her eyes as the "dreadfully slow" magical carpet whips through the night sky at horrifically nauseating speeds. Only Hermione's pride keeps her from clinging to Malfoy for dear life.
Fortunately, the trip lasts only a minute or two.
When they come to an abrupt stop, Malfoy effortlessly stands up as if he hasn't just ridden a magical equivalent of some harrowing amusement ride. With a wave of his wand, the end of the carpet folds itself into a series of small steps and he says, "Wait here. I shall be just a moment."
After her mind stops reeling, Hermione gets a good look at their location. The carpet slightly levitates above a small hill that overlooks a large wheat field. Not even a hundred meters away sits a Muggle farmhouse surrounded by cylinder silos. Through a lit window, Hermione can see an old man in a faded armchair sitting very close to the telly.
Her confusion abounding by the second, she searches for Malfoy who has disappeared into the dense forest that surrounds the farm. She cannot see him but hears him murmuring softly.
Trepidation fills Hermione as she remembers his flippant comment about Muggle baiting. At the time, she had thought it was in jest.
She isn't so certain anymore.
Hermione grips her wand and cautiously gets off the carpet, prepared for the absolute worst. She is halfway to the forest when Malfoy emerges.
"Who were you talking to?" she demands.
"You'll find out soon enough," Malfoy says blithely as he leads Hermione back to the carpet. "Let us settle in. The show is about to begin."
"What show? It better not involve torturing Muggles!"
"That depends on your meaning of torture," he says, with a smug twist of his lips.
"Mr. Malfoy! I will not be a part-"
"Hush, Hermione. Lest you scare them away."
"Who?"
The answer comes in the form of a loud trilling sound resonating from the forest. Her mouth falls open as a group of Mooncalves timidly step forward. They are a great mix of young and old, male and female, the latter easily identified by the presence of several hanging teats.
Mooncalves are very shy, elusive animals that only show themselves on the night of the full moon. With their pale, gray skin and black, bulging eyes, their faces are remarkably similar to the so-called "Grays", the alien beings Muggles often reported as having encountered. However, unlike the upright "Grays", Mooncalves stand on four spindly legs that end in large, wide feet.
Hermione's ire melts away as Malfoy makes the carpet float high enough so that they have a wide view of the entire field. She is silent and eager as the Mooncalves draw themselves up to stand on their hind legs. The creatures seem to be just as comfortable walking upright as they are on all fours.
As the Mooncalves walk to the field, Hermione eyes the Muggle farmhouse with concern.
"What if the Muggles come out?"
"They won't," Malfoy says confidently. "Mooncalves produce a magic when they dance that shrouds them from a Muggle's eyes and ears." He then smirks. "However, the Muggles with assuredly see the results."
That worry abated, Hermione turns her full attention to the Mooncalves who are now mostly partnered up, although a few Mooncalves stand alone. Once in position, the males bow to the females, who respond with low curtsies.
The dancing commences at once.
No music is needed at all. The Mooncalves provide it themselves as their large feet hammer rhythmically against the earth, producing a pounding, tribal-like beat. White lightning sparks under their feet and creates a smoky mist over the field. Hermione inhales deeply as the taste and smell of roasted wheat pervade her mouth and nose.
She begins to grin as the rows of wheat fall under the Mooncalves' feet and swinging arms. Spiraling circles and interconnecting rings start to form. She wonders how they do it. The Mooncalves appear to dance without any bit of direction, but together they form precise, neat patterns that look like they can mean something significant.
"A pity you don't like to dance," Malfoy suddenly says, startling Hermione. "Otherwise, I'd ask them to let you join in."
"They would never allow it," says Hermione, sadly dismissing the idea immediately. The intensely shy Mooncalves tend to flee if a human gets too close.
"They will do whatever I ask," says Malfoy, with much self-importance. "These Mooncalves belong to me, although I do allow them to roam free, provided they do not stray far from the manor. But, as you do not like dancing, it is of no matter."
"Well…" Hermione begins slowly, hoping she doesn't sound too keen. "I can make an exception."
Malfoy sends her an amused look as he lowers the carpet so that they are only a few meters from a male Mooncalf dancing alone. Malfoy gets off the carpet to speak briefly with him and the Mooncalf gives his consent with a loud warble.
When he returns, Malfoy says, "Be sure to curtsy to him when he bows, or else you'll offend him gravely and he won't dance with you."
Hermione nods as she cautiously approaches the Mooncalf. She feels a bit daunted as she stares at the otherworldly face she has long associated with extraterrestrials, thanks to her Muggle upbringing. The Mooncalf regards her with curious, intelligent eyes as he gives her a very courteous bow; she returns with the requisite curtsy.
Standing on his hind legs, the Mooncalf towers over Hermione to such a degree, she thinks dancing together may be impossible. The Mooncalf appears to be of the same mind. He looks over her, clearly trying to determine how they can dance despite their greatly different sizes. After a moment's reflection, he lifts Hermione up and puts her arms around his neck. She holds on tight, desperately trying to ignore the naked Mooncalf genitals pressing into her leg.
The Mooncalf twirls Hermione across the wheat field at dizzying speeds, yet she does not feel nauseous in the least. She closes her eyes and is taken back to her childhood, when her father used to swing her around and around. Her elated shrieks ring into the night as she feels some foreign, bestial magic flow over her, allowing her to reach out to the wheat and have it bend to the ground at just a touch of her fingertips.
Unfortunately, it ends much too soon. After a final exhilarating spin, the Mooncalf leaves her at the edge of the field with another bow before charging into the forest with the rest of his pack.
"Did you enjoy yourself?" asks Malfoy as he leans casually against a tree.
"Yes," pants Hermione, still out of breath. She beams brightly, for a moment forgetting that she shouldn't smile at the likes of Lucius Malfoy.
Malfoy returns the grin as he comes in closer, so close his robes flutter against her. She stills as he palms her cheeks, his gaze intense on her face.
For one horrifying second, she thinks he is going to kiss her.
However, his hands move upward to comb though her hair. Flecks of wheat sprinkle out. Slowly and carefully, Malfoy removes the debris then surprises her by gently pulling on a single curl to watch it spring back to the rest of her mane.
"That's much better," he says, taking a step back. "Would you like to see what you helped create?"
Slightly unnerved, she just nods.
Hermione is completely awed by the end result, partly because she had a small hand in it. She swells with pride as she looks upon the tiny circles she made herself at the far end of the field. Her Arithmancy-addled brain tries to make sense of the designs. If she tilts her head just so, the patterns can easily be a graphical representation of Wenlock's Theorem of Sevens.
"Even after all these decades, I never tire of this part," Malfoy says all of a sudden, interrupting Hermione's examination. He pulls out his wand and flicks it towards the sky. Flashing lights appear and a loud humming sound fills Hermione's ears.
"What are you doing?" she asks.
"Well, I did tell you there would be Muggle baiting." He nods towards the farmhouse. "Watch."
Hermione yells in alarm as the old Muggle man hobbles out, his hands over his ears.
"Don't," whispers Malfoy. "The carpet is enchanted to make us invisible but we can still be heard."
With wide-eyed wonder, the old man follows the lights to the field.
"Bleedin' hell!" he exclaims, and then climbs onto a large piece of farm machinery to get a better look. He clutches at his chest and lets out a strangled cry as he looks up at the flashing lights. "Those Goddamn UFOs are at it again!"
Malfoy chuckles quietly, causing Hermione to frown with reproach.
"That's not very nice."
"It's harmless," says Malfoy, although he makes the lights fade away. "They're going to discover the patterns eventually. Might as well have a little fun with it."
"Sarah!" shouts the old man. "Sarah! Get out here, woman!"
Sarah, a round woman who is as short and fat as the old man is tall and thin, rushes out of the house.
"What are you on about, Sam?" asks Sarah, as she wipes her hands on the frilly pink apron tied to her ample waist.
"Look! Look!" Sam gestures madly at the circles in his field.
"Cor blimey!" moans Sarah, raising a hand to her mouth.
Malfoy cackles loudly and without restrain. Hermione can only stare at him with amazement. However, she then remembers that this very same man had amused himself by flipping Muggles upside down at the World Cup. How unsurprising that his sense of humor continues to be so infantile.
"Did you hear that?" screams Sam, his head whipping about, seeming on the verge of a heart attack. "I bet they're still out there."
"Who?" Sarah's heavy jowls quiver with fear.
"The aliens, Sarah! The aliens!"
Malfoy wipes tears of laughter from his eyes. Hermione tries to look disapproving but she cannot resist a giggle when Sam leaps down with amazing agility and drags Sarah away, all while yelling, "Don't hurt us. We come in peace! We come in peace!"
"That was…something," says Hermione, after the Muggles have shut themselves up inside their house. She sees them peeking out from behind their closed curtains with fright on their faces and hastily made tinfoil hats on their heads.
"I get my pleasures where I can."
"At the expense of Muggles, I'd wager."
Malfoy shrugs. "They make it so easy for me. Well, shall we be off?"
Hermione looks down at the carpet she sits on. Although the trip will not last long, she prefers not to ride it again.
"Can we walk back?" asks Hermione, after a pause. "We don't seem to be far from the manor and I am still feeling a little woozy from dancing with the Mooncalves."
That seems like a good excuse as any.
"I suppose we could. It will be a ten minute walk, if we go through the forest."
Malfoy sends the carpet back to the manor with a tap of his wand before they set forth through the forest. The thick foliage of the trees blocks the glow of the moon so they must cast Lumos to illuminate their path. From the light of her wand, Hermione sees several pairs of eyes blinking out at her. The forest is full of creatures, small and large, magical and not.
"There are a lot of magical animals in this forest, for being so close to a Muggle farm," comments Hermione.
"Yes," says Malfoy. "Wiltshire has a very high population of them. Stonehenge is close by. I believe it calls them to the area."
As they venture deeper into the wood, Hermione cannot shake the feeling that someone or something is watching her, following her even.
Chancing a glance at Malfoy, Hermione wonders if she is simply being paranoid.
If he means to harm her, he'd done it by now, right?
Perhaps not.
Perhaps it's his intention to ease her into a feeling of security before attacking.
That'd be just like him.
Before she can reflect further on the matter, a twinkle of pearly white flashes at her side, and then, completely unbidden, she has a vision of a hard-faced man with a thick, black mustache lying lifeless on the ground.
Hermione stops dead in her tracks as a peculiar sort of music begins to drum loudly; a discordant melody of beating hooves and clanging metal. Terrible though it is, Hermione is mesmerized as if beckoned by a siren's song and she follows the sound. Her mind clouds as she hears Malfoy's distant voice commanding her to halt. His hands clutch at Hermione's body to stay her but he abruptly gives up and lets her continue on her course.
She is lured to a small clearing where she meets four galloping horses. Spectral, they are, with translucent, rotting bodies covered in shining silver armor. They are entirely white but for their angry eyes glowing an Avada Kedavra green.
Captivated, she stares into those haunting eyes as one ghostly horse draws near. A burning heat streams over her as the horse blows its fetid breath on her face.
She is instantly transported, no longer in the clearing but in the familiar streets of Hogsmeade. The uneven cobblestones of the street press into her back as she looks up at…herself.
The other Hermione glares down at her, her face fierce and furious as she brandishes her wand. Hermione feels the most terrible pain as her world becomes green. She has never felt so alive as the life seeps from her body.
Green fades into black and nothingness.
Back in the forest, Hermione collapses to the ground.
xxxxx
Hermione's screams reverberate throughout the manor as she writhes on the transfigured camp bed in the manor's Potions laboratory.
In the throes of the most terrible dreams, she is. A little relief can be found in consciousness but it'll be pointless to wake her until the soothing draught is finished.
Lucius adds a bit chamomile to the bubbling cauldron in front of him and stirs anti-clockwise five times. Once the potion is completed, he sets it off the fire to cool to room temperature.
Oh, how the secrets have ousted themselves tonight!
The men he has paid to investigate Hermione mentioned nothing of this.
Lucius is very pleased. Not only has this evening's event provided him with great opportunity, but it has also added to the enigma that is Hermione Granger.
He looks upon her in the wait. Such a childlike face she has, still rounded, full, and glowing with youthful innocence.
Innocence! Lucius scoffs. What a joke!
The girl has cast the Killing Curse; more than once, he is certain. It takes a great darkness of the soul to accomplish that. Lucius has known Death Eaters who were unable to perform the curse.
That she has succeeded where some of the most evil of men have failed…
Well, it's a shock, to say the least, but a very welcome one. Lucius feels oddly proud of her. A shiver delight courses over him as he think of the dark depths Hermione has gone to and he wonders just how far she can truly go.
Lucius fully intends to find out.
However, for now, more important matters require his attentions.
A few minutes later, the soothing potion is ready for consumption. Lucius quickly adds a dose to a steaming cup of hot chocolate. He is eager to question his little murderess.
Pressing his wand against her sweaty brow, Lucius revives Hermione with an Ennervate spell.
Hermione wakes with a start, a scream dies in her throat as she thrashes on the cot.
"Wha…what happened?" she asks, her voice rough and scratchy from all the screaming she had done in her sleep.
"Drink this," says Lucius, holding the hot chocolate out to her.
"What is it?"
"Hot chocolate, laced with a soothing potion. It will help you."
The cup shakes violently in Hermione's trembling hands and makes the hot chocolate splash everywhere. Lucius takes the cup from her and tilts her head back, forcing her to drink until the last drop is consumed.
"So tell me, Hermione," Lucius asks blandly, as she begins to visibly calm and relax. "Just how many people have you murdered?"
Hermione looks sharply at him before turning away. In a tiny but outraged voice, she says,"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, Hermione, there's no need to lie," Lucius says patiently. "You'll get no condemnation from me."
"I'm not lying!"
"You have no idea what you encountered tonight, do you?" Lucius does not wait for an answer. "They are called Knight Mares. Vengeful spirits known to haunt witches and wizards for the whole of their lifetimes. They are a nasty cousin to the Thestrals and like the Thestrals, only certain people can see them. People who have killed using the Killing Curse. People like you."
"How come I've never heard of these Knight Mares before?" Hermione asks almost accusingly, as if her ignorance in the matter is somehow his fault. "And why aren't you affected? You can't tell me you've never performed that Unforgivable."
"Of course, I have," Lucius says casually, as if confessing to some trivial misdemeanor. "However, Knight Mares feed on remorse and quilt. I have none. I can see the Knight Mares, yes, but they do not bother me in the least."
"Well, isn't it damn convenient to be an unrepentant sociopath!" she snaps.
Sociopath? It must be another one of those asinine Muggle terms. He decides not to display his gap in knowledge by asking for clarification. Instead, he answers her first question.
"It's not surprising you've never heard of the Knight Mares, given the series of incompetent Defense professors you suffered at Hogwarts. Even so, you wouldn't have learned much. Little is known about the Knight Mares because the few people who can see them have great reason to avoid them at all costs."
"I certainly will from now on." Hermione gives a little shudder. "Those things were horrible."
"I'm afraid that's not possible," says Lucius as he forces his face to express the solemnity the situation requires. "I told you that they haunt for a lifetime and that was no exaggeration. You looked into the eyes of a Knight Mare, Hermione. Every time you close your own, you shall see them and the people you murdered. You will dream about them as well. In your dreams, you will live out your victim's final moments. Every night you will know what it is like to die. Again and again."
Hermione squeezes her eyes shut as if in pain. They fly open without haste. "Oh God! You are right! I saw - can any thing be done for it?"
"Very little," says Lucius, eliciting a sniffle from Hermione. "Don't despair. There is a permanent solution to your problem. You need to let go of your guilt. You need to no longer care."
"Not care?" she shrieks. "Not care? I am not you, Mr. Malfoy. I cannot take a life and brush it off as if I had merely swatted a fly! I don't even want to be that kind of person."
"Then you shall suffer. My great uncle was beleaguered by the Knight Mares. He grew utterly mad within months."
Hermione whimpers then sits up perfectly straight. A knowing look passes her face.
"You meant for this to happen, didn't you?" she says, nearly choking with rage. "That's what this was all about. You wanted to get me out in that forest so I would meet the Knight Mares!"
God, but the girl is paranoid.
Lucius carefully contemplates his answer. He truly hasn't orchestrated tonight's events; however, he did let it happen, once he realized the great benefits.
"If I might remind you, you were the one who wished to walk back to the manor," says Lucius, deciding on the truth, but not all of it. "And how was I to know that you are a murderer. That is not common knowledge."
Hermione glowers with fury, even as she continues to weep. She is evidently disappointed that she has no cause to blame him.
Lucius summons a handkerchief and dabs at her tear-stained face until Hermione angrily yanks it from him to complete the task herself.
"What I am supposed to do now?" she whispers tearfully.
"Live…as best as you can," replies Lucius. "But, to do that, you need to change your perspective. Here you are, filled with guilt for killing Death Eaters. For murdering evil wizards who would have surely killed you had you not got to them first. Think of it as self-defense."
Hermione shakes her head.
Lucius tries a different approach. "Did you feel such remorse for sending Dolores Umbridge off to the Centaurs?"
"Umbridge?" repeats Hermione, incredulously. "What has she to do with anything?"
"Everything. And nothing."
"I didn't kill her!"
"No," begins Lucius. "But do you know where she has been for the last few years? She has been in a very isolated mental institution. Her family sent her away as she was becoming a great embarrassment. In the years since getting attacked by those Centaurs in the Forbidden Forest, she has attempted suicide no less than seven times. You might not have killed her, but she no doubt wishes that you had. There are fates worse then death, Hermione, and you sentenced her to one."
"That's her own fault!" yells Hermione. "She brought it on herself by insulting the Centaurs!"
"Yes, but you knew exactly what would occur when you led her to the Forbidden Forest, didn't you? That's why you did it."
Hermione's face hardens. Lucius finds it very interesting that she still refuses to shoulder any blame for the incident.
Well, it's something to build on.
She stands up and adjusts that horrid Muggle jacket of her. "I think this date is over. I wish to leave now."
"Yes, perhaps that would be best," says Lucius, standing as well. He goes to the large shelf behind the worktable and retrieves a ready-made bottle of an incredibly potent sleeping potion and an empty flask. He drains the remains of the soothing potion into the flask then holds them both out to Hermione.
"You'll undoubtedly have trouble sleeping. Take the sleeping potion at night. The Knight Mares will still torment you; however, the potion will make you sleep regardless. Use the soothing potion during the day; it will take the edge off."
Hermione grudgingly accepts the potions.
Five minutes later, Lucius and Hermione Apparate to Cornwall.
Hermione walks away from Lucius without a backwards glance.
"Well, thank you for showing me a spectacularly unpleasant evening. I trust you can see yourself off."
"It wasn't all bad."
Hermione turns to glare. "You can go and rot, Mr. Malfoy!"
After Hermione has slammed the door shut with a most violent force, Lucius lets out a hearty chuckle. His laughter continues to echo throughout Truro long after he has Disapparated away.
Back in the manor, Lucius journeys to the secret chambers hidden underneath the house. The rooms mostly contain artifacts of dark and dubious origins that will reward him with a long stay in Azkaban if they ever are discovered.
However, also stored within are perfectly legal magical items that are of such rarity, they require extreme measures to keep them safe and protected. He stops before the massive glass case that holds those treasures. For over twenty minutes, Lucius works to remove the spells guarding them. The heavy wards are needed to prevent the room's other objects from corrupting them with their Dark magic.
When his work is completed, Lucius pulls out a plain wooden box.
What Hermione truly needs is an attitude adjustment, and Lucius will gladly give her one. In the meanwhile, there is something else he can give her.
All week he has been mulling over what to give Hermione for the second L'Amour Contractuel gift. Lucius knows his own appeal will not be enough, not just yet. The gift needs to be highly enticing, something she will be unable to refuse. Tonight has provided him with the opportunity to give her a present she cannot turn away, not if she values her sanity.
Lucius opens the box and looks down at the Stone of Jenetti. The clear, blue gem twinkles in the light. He is extremely loath to be rid of it, but if all goes as planned, the stone will return to the Malfoy family when he marries Hermione.
He returns the lid and sets the box on a table. After a few flicks of his wand, the box is packaged as per the requirements of L'Amour Contractuel. He won't give it to her right away. No, he'll let her suffer for a few days; let her have a taste of what's in store for her, if she's foolish enough to decline his gift.
xxxxx
Well, I hope you all enjoyed chapter 6.
A few notes…
Some fics and pieces of fan art depict the Mooncalves as being upright creatures, however, since JKR specifically points out that they dance on their hind legs, this leads me to believe that they normally walk on four legs. Also, if it wasn't clear, the Mooncalves (and Hermione!) made crop circles.
The Knight Mares are my own creation. I was told that there is a published book out there that has creatures called Knight Mares, which isn't surprising as the name isn't very original, but I was unaware of it when I wrote this chapter. I highly doubt that they are similar except for the name.
Anyway, if you want to be made aware of updates, keep an eye on my LJ. A link is in my profile. You should go and friend me anyway. I need LM/HG shippers to talk to.
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