A/N: The response to the first chapter was … well, wow. Thank you sooo much to everyone who reviewed – I love you all! I'd be delighted if you continued following this story …
Anyway, thanks again, and here we go.
*****
IN THE NOISE OF SORRY NIGHT
Chapter 2
Hermione woke the next morning and winced as the light hit her eyes. Damned alcohol.
She blinked a few times and then glanced sideways, and was suddenly very awake.
Lucius.
He was not sleeping, but was merely staring at her, grey eyes half-closed, filled with a mixture of lust and contentment. Then he smiled faintly. 'Morning.'
But Hermione was frightened, was cursing herself. Had she really made love to him, with love in mind rather than pure desire?
Had she said she loved him?
No … but the mere possibility that she might have admitted such a thing to him made her shiver, and she regarded him with cold shock. 'I – I'd better go.' Dragging a sheet around her body, she leapt out of the bed and hurried to the armchair where her clothes had been flung the night before.
As she twisted her robes over her head, Lucius sat up above the covers, exposing his bare chest.
Hermione glanced at him for a second and felt admiration crease her eyes. God, he was gorgeous.
No, Hermione. You're an Auror. He's a Death Eater. You've parted ways already.
Perhaps so, but unlikely relationships always seemed to be the ones that worked. Draco, for example.
Not him, too. First one Malfoy, now the other? This is not your life, Hermione. You were not born to follow this route; it's been arranged so this isn't your scene.
Then why was she so attracted to him?
Lucius was still watching her, fingers tangling in his long hair, fiddling, expression calm and self-assured. 'You'll be back later, of course?' he asked in his low, rich voice.
Hermione glared. Damn him for being so bloody alluring! That hair, that perfect curving jaw, those eyes that mocked her, teased and tormented her, and finally caressed.
Several times she opened her mouth to speak, but was unsure what to say. How does one refuse a man whom one wants? It was so hard … Lucius had to be one of the most attractive men she had ever known, and he had claimed he loved her. It was worth considering, surely.
No.
Hermione steeled herself, hardened her cinnamon eyes.
'Lucius,' she said quietly, meaningfully, 'I don't know what trick you played on me last night, to get me here, but I assure you its effects have worn off. I'm not coming back, and … if you've got any sense you won't try and chase me. I don't … I don't want you.'
Lucius simply continued to gaze, eyes cold and thinking hard. Then he spoke flatly. 'You're lying.'
Yes, I am, she replied silently, but she shook her head. 'I'm not, Lucius. There's no way I'd have done what I did last night without being under some false apprehension. Some false state of mind. You did it, and God knows I can't prove it, but I swear on my life I will never speak to you again. And if you ever try to speak to me, I'll murder you.'
She was pleased with her speech, and Lucius seemed suitably taken aback. She had sounded like she meant it, then.
'So … where are you going, Hermione?' he asked her.
'I don't know,' she snapped. 'I'm rejecting this mission; it was the wrong thing for me. I'll stick to what I'm good at: keeping my distance.'
'You weren't so good at it last night,' Lucius reminded her, and Hermione paled.
'Like I said, that was your fault.'
'I never did a thing!' he protested, and she knew he was telling the truth, hated herself for shifting the blame.
But still she persisted with the safer game she played. 'Don't lie, Lucius.' She raised her hand to silence his objections. 'I should have known, after Draco. I should have known never to go near the Malfoys again.' That, at least, was true. Returning to that aristocratic charm and lust had been a mistake, one she now painfully regretted. She would get a transfer, she decided. Go and track Harry down, see if she was worth any help. Perhaps try and patch things up.
'After last night?' Lucius said incredulously. 'How can you be so cold with me now, Hermione?' Last night I told you I loved you, remember? And you accepted me, and you made love to me with that knowledge. Why would have you done that f you didn't want some part of me?'
Hermione glanced about the room, checked she had left nothing, and evaded the question. 'I'm leaving now, Lucius. I hope I shall not see you again for a long time.'
She knew that this was hardly likely, but still she closed the door on Lucius as if for good.
And walked straight into Severus Snape.
*****
Snape's face remained expressionless while he conducted Hermione through Diagon Alley, to a small flat above a shop selling Potions ingredients.
Finally, when they were inside, he motioned to her to sit down on the old leather couch, and Hermione lowered herself cautiously, staring at Snape.
They had not spoken in nearly a year, since the last full meeting of the Order. He had given her some information about Lucius … that had still been in the preliminary investigations, before she had even tried to watch him in person. He had advised her to … go carefully. She had misunderstood his meaning, then. He knew.
'Professor,' she said hastily, leaning forwards. 'I can explain -'
'I hope you can,' he replied mildly, eyes probing, calculating. 'I find it very curious that you should be leaving Lucius Malfoy's room at this time in the morning, where, I am informed, you spent the entire night.'
Hermione felt her face grow cold. I am informed … Did someone else know, then? Had someone been spying on her?
'Who told you, Professor?' she asked quietly.
He smiled faintly. 'Actually, no one really told me, Miss Granger. I passed through the pub last night, and I was … astonished … to see you so … wrapped up in each other.'
She let out a breath. For now, at least, her secret was safe. Beginning to feel a little more relaxed, she wryly pointed out: 'You're sounding more and more like Dumbledore, Professor.'
Snape did not smile, and Hermione was reminded of how much he could frighten her. From her first Potions lesson, she had known that Snape was 'not a man to be messed with.' And it was true. Treat him with care, then.
Then an idea occurred to her, serious. 'Professor … what were you doing outside Lucius' room?'
His face grew careful, alert. 'I had … business with Lucius. Urgent business.'
'What kind of business?'
He stared at her, the stern Potions Master filtering through strongly. 'I do not think you are in much of a position to be asking me difficult questions, Miss Granger. You have had … intimate relations with a suspect, the man whom you are supposed to be investigating. Do you not understand how dangerous that is?'
'It had a purpose, Professor,' she lied. 'How else was I to get into his room?'
His face was impassive. 'I thought you had more dignity that that, Miss Granger.'
Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. Much as the comment stung, she was not going to let him make her explain her actions any further. She had a strong will … and she blinked at the irony, for it was the second time in twelve hours she had told herself that. 'We all have to make sacrifices, Professor.'
The problem was that despite all the confidence Dumbledore had in Snape, Hermione did not like him, nor did she completely trust him. He kept too many of his actions secret for them to be wholesome. She respected him, yes: he was extremely intelligent, and had admittedly made invaluable contributions to the Order, but there were sides of him that nobody understood, she knew, and it was clear that he was distinctly unorthodox in his way of handling things.
This 'business' with Lucius, for example. If it had been expected, or known about, he would have had no reason not to tell her. They were on the same side. So naturally she suspected something.
But equally, Snape must know that he was acting suspiciously. And he did not seem to care, which was stranger still, and frightened Hermione more. Did he expect her to find out what his business with Lucius was?
Well, she could not now. She had promised herself to stay away from Lucius, and she intended to follow her promise. Making choices to deliberately take her near him would be a devastating error.
Snape was watching her as she thought, and suddenly he addressed her seriously. 'Hermione, Lucius, isn't the sort to take a single night lightly. He thought you hated him … then you do this, and he's probably worked out you're investigating him.'
'He has,' Hermione told him wearily. 'He knows already. So I'm going to give up the mission … I was going straight to the Ministry.'
'He knows?' Snape sounded horrified. He's worked out that that was why you … why you slept with him?'
She nodded.
Snape let out a short, humourless laugh. 'I imagined, Miss Granger, that you would easily be able to understand my concern. Lucius is a Death Eater, one of those closest to the Dark Lord. I have no doubt that he will report this incident back to his Master. A Mudblood has tried to take advantage of one of his most faithful servants.' He lowered his voice slightly. 'Voldemort is hungry for blood, Miss Granger … and physical … stimulation. I imagined that you would have considered these dangers before subjecting yourself to so much risk.' His eyes flickered slightly. 'Evidently not.'
Hermione groaned as she realised the truth of his words. How could she have been so stupid? So stupid that it took Severus Snape, someone she disliked so much, to make her understand the reality? Lucius had done the job well, to render her so imperceptive. And now she was probably in mortal danger.
But Lucius had said he loved her. With truth, and sincerity. Would he really now want to destroy her? Did Lucius Malfoy take so unkindly to being rejected?
In her position, the worst had to be expected, she knew. And so she said calmly: 'I will consider the peril of my situation, Professor. I think it … unlikely that Lucius will see fit to punish something so harmless as sex, but -'
Snape cut her off. 'Never assume that sex is harmless, Miss Granger. It creates a bond between two people, a bond of physical intimacy, and often there is trust involved, trust that neither will divulge the information. I take it you undertook such a discussion with Lucius? And were planning to keep to it? To simply tell the Ministry that you suspected he knew you were investigating him?'
Hermione nodded again. It was chilling, how this man seemed able to predict and deduce her every move, every intention. He obviously understood her far better than she did him. It seemed unfair, in a way. She could not even begin to guess what his involvement with Lucius Malfoy might be: he was so fantastically good at hiding it. Was it emotional, personal, financial? Did it concern Voldemort?
Again Snape was watching her closely, and she realised. That was how he did it. He had spent over forty years working out how to hide his emotions, which meant he could read more expressive people like books. Perhaps he did not know precisely what she was thinking, but a wary spark in her eye when she looked at him would betray her if her thoughts were on him. This man had made people a lifetime study, and he was constantly reaping the rewards. She shook her head in amazement. Incredible.
'Professor, if you will allow me to leave now, I must speak urgently with the Ministry, and have my things sent on from the Leaky Cauldron … I can't go back there now. I think I will find Harry, see if I can help him. At least I'll be moving, and I'll be protected.'
'Protected by the very people trying to find and kill Voldemort, Miss Granger?' There was an amused note in his voice, and then he shrugged. 'Do what you will; I suspect you do not want my advice, as much I think you may need it. I will, however, repeat my words to you from last March: go carefully.'
She gave Snape a half-smile, and he said nothing more, but merely watcher her sharply as she left his flat.
*****
Lucius Malfoy had considered the options now available to him. He had even wept a little, with the overwhelming emotion he felt for the girl. He hated himself for that emotion, and it was this self-hatred that had prompted him to make his choice.
Hours after Hermione had left, he now knelt before the Dark Lord. 'Master, I have discovered a weakness within myself. An – an emotional weakness.'
Voldemort merely raised his head, waiting for him to continue.
'It is a girl, my Lord. Well … a woman, really. She's beautiful and intelligent … but she's on the wrong side. And she is not pure-blood. It is Hermione Granger, my Lord. She was investigating me for the Ministry, and she overwhelmed me. I spent last night with her, in my room at the Leaky Cauldron. But she scorned me this morning, and I fear her retaliation.'
'And what would you like me to do, Lucius?'
Lucius took a deep breath. 'I beg you, my Lord, to remove this infatuation from my mind. I need the memory of it, to save me from making a similar error again, but I need to be emotionally free of it if I am to capture and kill this Mudblood.'
Voldemort considered this briefly, his red eyes gleaming. Then he nodded. 'I will do as you ask, Lucius. Kill the girl if you must, but I would be very interested to … explore her potential, if you understand me. But I will clear your mind of these ridiculous sentiments which so shame you.' He raised his wand. 'Faiblesse, vas!'
Lucius recognised the spell – it was a French charm he had used on Draco. That had been to get rid of his son's feelings for Hermione, too. Strange, how the past tended to return.
Slowly he felt the tenderness for Hermione ebbing from his consciousness, and when she was for him Miss Granger once more, he knew it was done. He bowed lower. 'My immense gratitude, my Lord. Now I may destroy her.'
*****
Hermione, miles away on a broomstick heading for her parents' house to tell them she was going away, felt something shift in her mind, but did not understand it.
*****
A/N: Well? I know there wasn't any Lucius being seductive, but it'll come, I assure you. Just later than you think, I suppose.
I'd like feedback, people …
~SS~