Note: I want to address some pacing comments I've had here and on AO3. Hermione and her friends are hunting horcruxes. I realize this took the bulk of the Deathly Hallows book, but here they're aided by Lucius and by Sirius, and their situation is a bit different and allows the hunt to move at a different speed than in canon. Throughout this story there have been skips in time, and that is true for 7th year as well. I cannot and will not cover everything, and I don't want the plot to get lost in endless scenes of relationship/smut between Hermione and Lucius. There are still many chapters to come in this story, as it won't end until sometime after the war.
Thank you for reading, following, and sharing your thoughts with me!
-Elle
~oOo~
Seventh Year Part 3, 1997
An odd tension descended on Grimmauld Place after the Order's successful defense of the apothecary in Farnham. As it turned out, Sirius was wrong about Moody. The "tough old bastard," weakened from injuries sustained at the Farnham attack, succumbed to dragon pox just a few weeks later. His death was a stark reminder for Hermione that they could all be killed at any time. She felt badly for Moody, knowing that he'd died because of something she set into motion by sharing information from Lucius, but in the grand scheme of things, protecting the apothecary meant that many more lives were spared as life-saving potions were funneled to various members of the Order. She wasn't sure if she could have shared that information with the Order knowing it would lead to Moody's death, but she could not regret it in hindsight, especially since they also took out Antonin Dolohov and Rodolphus Lestrange. It twisted something inside of her to know that she was thinking of human lives in such a callous manner. She knew she would not have done so just a year ago.
Any relevant information Hermione received from Lucius, she passed along to Sirius. Sometimes it was a small detail, sometimes it was something big like the Farnham attack. Each time, his intelligence was correct, and each time the Order was able to capture or kill Death Eaters of some importance. Hermione knew Harry and Ron were suspicious of her source, but she remained steadfast in her desire to protect her lover.
That autumn, when she and her friends should have been at Hogwarts, Hermione finally received a summons from Lucius. She was beyond grateful for the bracelet and the power it gave her to portkey silently out of Grimmauld Place in the middle of the night, still dressed in her pajamas.
She stumbled when she landed in the lodge, alone in that dark-paneled sitting room.
"Lucius?" she asked, turning around to look for her lover.
She startled when the imposing figure of a Death Eater appeared in the doorway. She'd seen this mask with its silver swirls, this Death Eater. She knew, instinctively knew, this was Lucius, and yet she couldn't help but automatically flinch and step back from him. If Voldemort wanted to inspire terror in the hearts of wizard-kind, He'd done a damn good job with the look of His Death Eaters. Even knowing that her lover was behind that mask couldn't tamp down Hermione's gut reaction to him.
Lucius, perhaps sensing her distress, vanished his mask with a wave of his wand, and she noted that he looked weary.
"Are you okay?" she asked quietly.
"Just tired. And filthy. It's been a very long day," he said, walking toward her with a slight limp.
"You're hurt!" she gasped, rushing to him.
"Just a slight stinging hex that hasn't worn off."
"Come sit down," she said, moving beside him, intending to guide him to the sofa where she could reassure herself that he was really okay.
"No, bath first. I need to get out of these robes," he said firmly.
They ended up a bathroom adjacent to the master bedroom. She had already showered that evening at Grimmauld Place, but she undressed and got into the bathtub as well at Lucius's urging. She found that she rather liked being in the bath with him. She seated herself behind him, wrapping her legs around him and positioning herself perfectly to wash his long blond hair. She was certain he'd take offense at just how adorable she found the sounds he made when she massaged his scalp.
The intimacy of bathing with him almost seemed to trump the physical intimacy they'd shared thus far, and that combined with her ability to hide her face behind his broad back made her feel brave enough to fully confess her feelings.
"It scared me when I saw you limping. I thought you were seriously injured," she admitted softly.
"Hardly," he scoffed.
She smiled to herself at tough tone of his voice. She rubbed a soapy hand over his bicep, noting that he winced if she pressed too hard there.
"Does that hurt?"
"Just a bruise."
"What happened?"
"A hex. The dragonhide armour took the brunt of the hit, but the force of the spell will leave a bruise."
"I could ask Mipsy for some bruise paste," she offered.
"Nonsense. I am fine."
"You don't have to be tough with me, Lucius. I was worried about you," she said. She rinsed his long hair and his back, smoothing her hands over soft skin and hard muscle.
"I know you were, pet, but I am fine, especially now that you are here."
"Were you…" her voice trailed off.
"Was I what?"
"Who hit you with the hex? Was it… was it an Order member?" she asked. One part of her did not want to know that her friends were firing on her lover, and yet, she had to ask. She needed to know, although she was unsure what she would do with this information.
He glanced over his shoulder at her. "If it was, it was not one I knew to be one of Dumbledore's men. He's dead now."
She paused then, nearly dropping the bar of soap at the casual way he spoke of the death of the wizard who'd hexed him. She did not like this reminder that people died in battle. It was too easy for her mind to shift that nameless, faceless wizard to an image of Harry, Ron, Sirius… Lucius.
"Will you tell me about it, what you were doing before you came here?" she asked softly, even though she was unsure she really wanted to know. She told herself that perhaps he had valuable information to share.
He sighed and leaned back into her embrace, sliding his palms along the slender, wet legs wrapped around him.
"I led a team into a wizarding village to locate someone wanted for questioning by the Dark Lord. It was a successful mission - we found that individual, no one on my team was seriously injured, and no one was tortured upon our return. That is all. I'd rather not discuss it further."
"And that person...will he or she be killed?" she asked softly.
He hesitated. "I do not now. It is no longer in my control."
She closed her eyes and pushed out a shaky breath. She shouldn't have asked. She did not want to know what horrors awaited this nameless, faceless person. She'd known by the end of her sixth year at Hogwarts that war had come, and war was brutal and painful and devastating. She'd known that it would be agony to be in love with Lucius while on opposing sides of a war, and yet somehow each new revelation was another knife in her chest, another agony she'd not considered.
"And then you summoned me," she whispered, blinking back tears for that unknown person captured by Death Eaters and the unknown wizard who hexed Lucius and was killed in battle.
"I did. And now you are here, and I wish to make the most of my time with you. Let us not dwell on things we cannot control, pet," he said.
She took a deep breath to calm her emotions. "Yes, of course, you're right," she said softly.
"You know, I do believe bathing by myself has lost all its appeal," he said, glancing over his shoulder at her with a smirk.
She pressed her body against his back, wrapping her arms around him and resting her cheek against his warm, wet skin.
"Don't tease," she said softly. "I was worried about you tonight."
"I am...unused to anyone worrying about me," he admitted.
This was it, she told herself. It was time to admit her true feelings to the wizard she so loved. She'd thought it for so long, had known in her heart that she loved him, but she'd held off saying those three words. It had been too soon, they'd not been together long enough, she was too young, a myriad of reasons for holding back her feelings had tumbled around in her brain for more than a year, but enough was enough. He'd been hexed tonight. He could have died. Others did die. What if he died without hearing her declaration of love? She could not bear the thought! She was brave, and they were at war, and it was past time to say it.
"I will always worry about you. I...I love you, Lucius," she whispered.
He gripped her leg and one of the arms she'd wrapped around him.
"Do you? Truly?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.
"I do."
He was quiet for a moment, and Hermione worried that she'd spoken too soon, that he would be unhappy with the intensity of her feelings for him. After all, he was married, and she was just 18 and should by all rights still be a Hogwarts student.
"You overwhelm me, pet."
"I'm sorry," she murmured, trying to burrow into his back and make herself smaller in her embarrassment.
He was silent for an agonizingly long moment.
"I loved my parents, of course, even as I feared and later resented my father. I loved Draco the moment I laid eyes upon him, but that is the love of a child and of a parent. I have thought it possible to love a witch, but as I have never fully experienced...I am unsure what name to give the feelings I have for you. I care for you deeply, Hermione," he admitted.
It was not a declaration of love, but she sensed that it was more than he had ever given anyone before. It broke her heart to think that this beautiful, brilliant wizard had been so deprived of romantic love in his life that he did not know how to recognise it. She blinked away tears and pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades.
He dragged her from the bathtub then, drying them both abruptly, in between hot, wet, kisses that made her heart race. She clung to him, desperate to be near him. The uncertainty of war hung over her like a dark cloud, even in their perfect sanctuary. The knowledge that each day could be their last, that this could be the last day she ever saw Lucius, spurred her passion.
She wanted to touch him, kiss him everywhere, as if her lips and fingertips were imbued with some sort of armour that would protect him from the spells cast by her own comrades. She wanted to leave her mark on his body, and she wanted him to mark her as his own. She was insatiable, and it was too much and not enough all at the same time.
When they at last collapsed onto sweaty sheets, bodies exhausted from their passion, she was too tired to cling to him, and she drifted to sleep with his whispers in her ear.
"Sleep now. I'll wake you soon."
True to his word, he did wake her, insisting that he'd summoned her for more than just sex - although she would not have complained had he wanted her just for that. She curled up beside him in the bed, both still naked and tangled in the sheets, as he spoke.
"I've given a great deal of thought to everything you've said." He paused as if gathering his thoughts. "If Dumbledore was correct - and given everything I knew of the man, I do question anything and everything he may have told Potter - if he was correct, and there are six horcruxes, the others are items of some importance."
She rolled onto her side and studied his profile. "You think so? The last we spoke of this, you said they could be anything."
"Yes, well, I have no desire to ever create anything as foul as a horcrux, but if I did, I would choose unlikely items that would not be easily located. The Dark Lord, however, thinks highly of Himself and would want something...auspicious."
She raised an eyebrow at him. "You're a Malfoy. I find it hard to believe you would not also choose something auspicious."
"Pet, for that sort of effort, success matters more than anything else. I would not waste the effort by desecrating a significant historical artifact. If there exists only one of something, then someone searching for it would know when they've found it, would they not? And of course people would expect me - a Malfoy - to use something significant, which is exactly why I would do the opposite. The Dark Lord, however, is not that subtle. His ego is overlarge."
Hermione considered his words. "That...actually makes sense in a twisted way."
"The diary was a personal item that obviously had significance to the Dark Lord. The cursed ring Dumbledore found and destroyed apparently belonged to the Gaunts and was a family heirloom. The necklace belonged to Salazar Slytherin himself."
"Yes."
"Knowing that, I would look for items of some historical significance in the magical world," he said.
"The philosopher's stone was destroyed, and to the best of my knowledge, no others exist, and the Flamels are both gone," she mused.
"Godric Gryffindor was rumoured to have a magical sword," he said.
"Yes. Harry has used it before. In the Chamber of Secrets. It came to him, and he pulled it from the Sorting Hat. Apparently it can come to a Gryffindor in need."
He arched an eyebrow at her.
"You don't think He'd desecrate the Sword of Gryffindor?"
"If He could get His hands on it? Yes, I do. It would be rather like pissing on the grave of your enemies, would it not?"
She wrinkled her nose at the crude analogy. "I suppose. Dumbledore left the sword to Harry in his will, but the Ministry refused to turn it over to him. They said it belonged to Hogwarts."
"There is no telling where it is now then," he said with a frown.
She sat up in bed suddenly.
"The cup!"
"What?" he looked confused.
"The cup! Dumbledore had memories, memories that he shared with Harry about Tom Riddle."
Lucius frowned.
"And?"
"Well, Tom Riddle was, you know this right, that He became the Dark Lord?"
"Yes, I know."
"You do? Then you know that He is a half-blood?" she asked.
"Yes, I know. It was rather politically expedient of Him to latch onto the issue of blood supremacy to build His base of support. My father attended Hogwarts with Him. He was believed to be a mud-muggleborn until he proved himself to be a half-blood, descended from Salazar Slytherin himself. Many were willing to overlook his less than pure blood, given his mother's ancestry."
"Really?" she asked, silently noting how he'd nearly said mudblood but choosing not to comment on it for now.
"Yes, but I do not believe you wish to be sidetracked by the limited stories my father shared about the Dark Lord," he prodded.
"Oh, yes. Yes, Dumbledore shared memories with Harry, and one of them was of Tom Riddle after Hogwarts. He was trying to track down a cup, a golden cup that once belonged to Helga Hufflepuff."
"He was collecting items belonging to the founders of Hogwarts then," Lucius said. He looked disgusted at the idea that Voldemort would desecrate something else belonging to the revered wizards and witches who'd founded their school.
"So we need to locate the sword, and the cup, and…" her voice trailed off as she spoke. "Was there a relic or an item associated with Rowena Ravenclaw?"
"I am unsure. You may wish to consult books regarding the history of Hogwarts."
"I've read Hogwarts: A History" many times over," she said with a frown. "I don't recall anything about founders' artifacts."
"I believe there are earlier editions in my library at Malfoy Manor. I shall examine those to see if they yield any clues."
She smiled up at him in thanks for the research he planned to do. Malfoy Manor's library reportedly rivaled that of Hogwarts, and she would have loved to study the contents.
"The diary, the ring, the necklace, the cup, the sword, and something of Rowena Ravenclaw's then. Do you think that's it?" she asked.
"I cannot imagine that anyone would be able to split their soul that many times. Surely there are no more," he said.
"Now we just need to find them!"
He pulled her to him for a lingering kiss. "You are brilliant, pet."
"I would not have put the pieces together without you, Lucius. We make a brilliant team. Do you have any ideas about where those items might be? I can't very well march up to Severus Snape and ask him if I can borrow the Sorting Hat."
He snorted. "No, you cannot. Severus has done well for himself since Dumbledore's death. I had not thought him that loyal to the cause - which of course is surely why he was asked to prove himself - but… I had the diary but did not know the evil it contained. Perhaps Severus has been given one? Where were the other items found?"
She paused for a moment and then decided in for a sickle, in for a Galleon. She might as well tell him more.
"Harry said Dumbledore found the ring at the remains of the Gaunt family's home. The necklace had been left in a cave along the coast of England, and was guarded by inferi," she said before explaining how Regulus Black had secreted the real horcrux away before dying, and how they'd found it at Grimmauld Place.
"And you've destroyed it?" he asked.
"Not yet," she admitted. "We can't figure out how to destroy it. Nothing seems to work."
"An artifact of that nature, created with the darkest of magic, will surely require dark magic in its destruction. Allow me to research this issue on my end. I have many more books at my disposal than you do, I am sure. As for the other items, Severus may indeed have the sword. I will have to make discreet inquiries. The cup...if Severus has the sword, and I had the diary, it is not outside the realm of possibility that He could have given the cup to another of His loyal inner circle."
"Who?" she asked in a whisper, almost afraid of the answer.
"The most likely recipients would be Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange."
~oOo~
Hermione returned to Grimmauld Place with mixed emotions. Leaving Lucius was so difficult. She was excited at the progress they'd made in narrowing down Voldemort's horcruxes, but the idea that Bellatrix and Rodolphus had one in their possession was a bit unnerving. Bellatrix Lestrange had appeared insane at the Department of Mysteries in fifth year, and Hermione did not relish the idea of battling the two Death Eaters to gain access to a horcrux.
She pushed that thought aside for the time being. She would need to pretend to figure out this latest development in the horcrux hunt while researching with Harry and Ron. Harry would never be comfortable with the idea that she had shared the tale of Voldemort's horcruxes with anyone, especially someone in Voldemort's inner circle.
She was deep enough in her thoughts that she did not realise there was anyone else in the room until she tripped over a large black dog sprawled out on the parlor floor. She gasped and righted herself before falling.
Padfoot transformed, and she found herself in the darkened room with Harry's godfather.
"What are you doing here?" she whispered in a hiss, afraid to wake Harry and Ron.
"I could ask you the same thing. Where were you, Hermione?"
"That's none of your business."
In the weak candlelight of the room, she could see him sniff and then narrow his eyes.
"You reek of sex."
Her heart dropped into her stomach. Stupid canine senses! She should have been more wary of Harry's godfather.
"I am an adult, and I don't owe you an explanation."
"Harry and Ron are safe, by the way. They're asleep, nice of you to ask about them."
"Don't be like that."
"I came here to check on all of you, and Harry and Ron said you'd gone to bed early. They went up to bed, and I said I was going to look for a book. You know, the funny thing about being an animagus, is that I smell and hear much better as a dog than I do as a wizard. You weren't in the house. At all. I know because I checked. So where were you?"
"I told you, it's none of your business," she said defensively.
"If whatever you're doing affects Harry, it IS my business! You left here without telling anyone. You could have been killed, and no one would have known you were even gone!"
"I was not in any danger!"
"And us? What if we'd been in danger, Hermione? What if there'd been a raid on this place? What if we'd had to leave in the middle of the night? Harry could have been captured or killed because he was running through this place looking for YOU. Only you weren't here because you sneaked away for a quick fuck."
Before she could stop herself, Hermione stepped forward and slapped Sirius across the face. When she revisited this interaction later, she would have to admit to herself that he had a valid point, he truly did. It had been reckless for her to rush off to Lucius's side when summoned. Nothing bad had happened in her absence, but if it had, Sirius was right that Harry would not have wanted to leave Grimmauld without her. But to have her relationship with Lucius belittled, cut down to such insignificant and base terms was unacceptable to Hermione.
She gazed up at him in horror, stunned both by his words and by her own impetuous action.
He rubbed his cheek and then sighed. "You're with a Death Eater, aren't you?" he asked in a voice that sounded almost resigned.
"What?"
"Your source, the one you won't betray, the one who has been feeding you all of this information. He's a Death Eater, isn't he? No one else would have that kind of inside information. Harry and Ron may not have put it together yet because they want to think the best of you."
Fucking a Death Eater. That was what he thought of her, of what she was doing. It hurt Hermione deeply to have her relationship with Lucius reduced to such crude and shallow terms.
"He is not there willingly. He doesn't have any other choice, so he's helping us however he can," she insisted. She supposed there was no point in denying that she indeed involved with a Death Eater.
"Or he's using you to weed out information about the Order."
"How many lives have been saved because of the information I've provided?" she challenged.
"You are taking an enormous risk, and it's not just your life at stake. If you want to throw your life away to be with a Death Eater, that's your choice, but I will not let you risk Harry's life as well!" he said in a hushed but angry voice.
"It's not like that. We're in love, we're in love, and he has gone out of his way to keep me safe. He would never hurt me, and he knows how important it is for Harry to win. He's HELPING us!" she insisted.
Sirius looked at her with a look of concern and pity on his face before shaking his head. "You cannot trust a Death Eater, Hermione. Not with this. Not with Harry's life."
"Because they're all bad? Forever? Regulus gave his life to get that locket out of that cave, to do the right thing. There are Death Eaters who don't want to be there, but who have no escape. That mark on their arms is a prison without walls. He can't leave, and he's doing what he can to help me. He's no different from Regulus," she insisted.
Hermione knew that mentioning Sirius's brother was a low blow on her part, and she could tell by the expression on his face that he was upset.
"If any harm comes to Harry because of what you are doing with this Death Eater, I will make you pay. I promise you that," he swore before he disapparated, leaving Hermione alone in the darkened room.