Seventh Year, Part 11, 1998
Harry let her sleep until mid-day, and when she woke, he was sitting on his own cot, reading "Tales of Beedle the Bard," a book of wizarding fairy tales their late headmaster had willed to her. She'd read and re-read the book, in between research on the founders of Hogwarts and possible methods to destroy a horcrux, but she had yet to figure out why Dumbledore left her such a strange book. Oh sure, it was interesting to read since she'd not grown up hearing these tales, but it was still strange. Someone - Dumbledore perhaps - had made some simple sketches and notes in the margins. This act of defiling a book bothered Hermione.
"Anything interesting?" she asked, startling Harry.
He shrugged and tossed the book aside. "I mean, they're vaguely interesting moral tales, I guess. Still don't know why Professor Dumbledore left it to you."
Maybe their late headmaster had gone round the bend, mentally speaking. He'd always been more than a little bit eccentric in the years she'd known him, and he was incredibly old when Professor Snape killed him that night on the astronomy tower. Was it possible he'd been a bit senile?
"I just feel like we're missing something here," Harry said, frowning at the book.
"I know." She'd had that same thought for some time, but the constant moves and the hunt for horcruxes had kept them busy.
"Why give you this book? Or me this snitch?" he said, pulling the snitch from his pocket and rolling it around in his hand.
"I wish I knew," she admitted.
Harry was energised by the destruction of the cup and the locket and by their possession of the Sword of Gryffindor, and was eager to get to Hogwarts to seek out an artefact of Rowena Ravenclaw's. Hermione, still wracked with guilt over what she'd done to her best friend - for his own good - listened silently as he paced around the tent, playing with the snitch again as he laid out different strategies for sneaking into the school.
"So, I think those are our best options. What do you think, 'Mione?" he asked.
"I think it's inherently risky no matter what we do," she admitted, "And there are just so many unknowns."
One of the biggest of the unknowns was whether or not students were still able to make a regularly day trip into Hogsmeade. If so, they could use polyjuice or glamours and blend in with the students and simply walk back through the front gates at Hogwarts.
If that was out, another option was to try to enter the school through one of the blocked tunnels and hope that they could remove whatever magical and physical barriers Snape had erected. That of course had its own potential pitfalls.
They were also unsure whether any wards or alarms had been erected around the school that would notify Snape if they attempted to return to Hogwarts. It wouldn't do for them to get captured by Voldemort's forces now, when they were so close to finding and destroying the last of his horcruxes.
"And then once that's done," Harry said, "We just have the snake."
"Any great plans for how we can tackle that?"
"Yeah. I think It doesn't matter where Nagini is."
"How so?" she frowned.
"We get into Hogwarts and we destroy the next horcrux, and then once we're done, we bring him to us. Wherever Voldy goes, so goes the snake, right?"
She yawned and then pondered his words.
"How do you intend to do that?"
"I dunno. There's plenty of options. Make our presence known to a Death Eater or send an owl to a known Death Eater. Hell, we could have someone in the Order owl the 'Daily Prophet' for all I care."
"What are you suggesting? That we set up a trap? Or an ambush?"
"I was trying to think this morning, 'What would Ron do?'" he said. "He is the chess master of the three of us, you know."
He offered her a crooked smile then, but she knew that Ron's departure still hurt.
"What did you decide?"
"Well, I thought that Ron would suggest that we amass our strength - so the Order and their allies - and we bring Voldemort to us, on our terms."
That was… logical and reasonable, she thought, although she was unprepared for the idea of a mass battle, which seemed to be what Harry was implying. A battle meant chaos and deaths and horror and no guarantee that the people she loved would live to see the other side. Lucius was helping discreetly by feeding the Order enough information to take out some of Voldemort's inner circle, and by helping them locate horcruxes, but what would he do in battle? Would he strike down his own brothers-in-arms? Would he be distracted by a need to try to protect Draco? She did not think her heart could take it if Lucius was killed in battle.
She began to wonder if maybe it was time to notify the Order about Lucius's true allegiance. Sirius already knew she was with a Death Eater, and Harry still believed she was with Draco, thanks to her quick spellwork. She didn't relish the idea of having to paint Draco as a spy and a hero, but perhaps she could convince their allies that Lucius was funneling information to Draco, and they were both helping her. Harry's reaction the night before proved that she could not just outright tell them she was Lucius Malfoy's mistress.
"I mean, I'd rather not have to fight in the midst of Diagon Alley where a bunch of innocent bystanders could get killed, or someplace like, I don't know, Malfoy Manor where the Death Eaters know the place better than we do. We'd be too easy to corner," he continued, drawing her from her thoughts.
"Yes, that's true."
"But I think Ron would say that fighting on an open field would be equally bad because we would just be open targets," Harry mused.
"I think if you're planning a final confrontation, the Order needs to be involved," she pointed out. "It's not fair for us to make any decisions when we haven't talked to them in months and don't know where they are or how long it will take them to re-group."
"Yeah, I thought about that. We could get the horcrux, get out of the school, and then meet up with Sirius and the others to strategise. I mean, logically, that seems like the best option."
"But?"
"I just… I feel bad thinking that while we're holed up in an Order safehouse somewhere, planning, muggleborns are being shipped off to who knows where and people are dying," he admitted.
It was typical Harry, his need to be the hero, to save as many people as he possibly could, and she loved him for that, even as she recognised that Lucius would sneer at her friend's sensibilities. Victory needed to matter most. Ultimately defeating the Dark Lord would save more people in the long wrong, and she told him so. He acknowledged the accuracy of her words, but she could tell he did not like it.
They packed up their campsite in relative silence, Harry managing their kitchen supplies while she tackled the stacks of books they'd hauled all over England. Did she really need to keep carting some of these around? Rita Skeeter's gossip-y book, "The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore" had been in her bag since before they left Grimmauld Place, and as far as Hermione was concerned, it was better used as kindling for a fire. Harry had been melancholy since he got his hands on the book, as his mentor was ripped to shreds by the reporter they all loathed. Hermione, who was already disillusioned with their late headmaster, had to admit that it was a pretty damning account. Perhaps if they'd had this book years earlier, Harry would have come to view their headmaster the same way she did: with trepidation and a healthy level of mistrust.
She sighed as she packed up Skeeter's book, along with "Tales of Beedle the Bard." It was time to move on.
~oOo~
They apparated near the Shrieking Shack, just outside Hogsmeade. Harry wanted to rush headlong into the place to set up a base camp there, but she made him wait patiently under a disillusionment charm whilst she carefully checked for any wards around the dilapidated building or any sign of Death Eaters. If she'd been a Death Eater, she would have used the shack. It was close enough to Hogwarts and Hogsmeade to spy on both, and it provided shelter from the elements. She was surprised it was empty, but perhaps Death Eaters checked up on it regularly. They'd need to be careful.
The shack was truly deserted, and the only magic she could detect was around where the tunnel to the whomping willow had been. As indicated on Harry's map, that tunnel was well and truly sealed off. They set up camp inside the old house, with backup plans to move elsewhere should they fall under attack. Harry placed the tent in the midst of the very room where she had met Lucius Malfoy at the end of her fifth year. She could not help but feel nostalgic as she brushed her fingertips along the peeling wallpaper where he'd pushed her up against the wall. It felt like yesterday and yet like a lifetime ago. How innocent she'd been then! How little she'd known about him, about magic, about love. She'd thought that day that she loved him, but the feelings of that long ago warm afternoon were miniscule compared to the depth of her love for him now.
That night, after Harry went to sleep, she sat up inside the frigid shack, relatively comfortable wrapped in a blanket and cocooned in a warming charm. In the quiet and darkness, she reached out to her lover.
Found a way to destroy h. Necklace, cup destroyed.
He messaged her back soon after.
How?
Found Sword of Gryffindor. Imbued with basilisk venom.
How did you find that?
Long story. Will tell you sometime. Encamped near Hogsmeade. Need to get into school. Any ideas?
He messaged her back soon after.
Per Severus, all known tunnels blocked into school for security.
She frowned. That wasn't exactly new knowledge, thanks to the map.
Hogsmeade weekends?
Harry's idea of using polyjuice to simply walk through the front gates was rather daring and could go wrong in any number of ways, but it was really only workable if the students were permitted to leave the school grounds.
Death Eater guard in Hogsmeade. Very limited student visits.
She sighed. She'd feared that exact thing.
Her bracelet warmed again.
Low level D.E. though. Too many inner circle lost to battle to waste guarding town/school.
Well, that did indeed change the situation up a bit.
How many? She asked.
Unsure, he wrote back.
Any news?
It took much longer for a response this time.
Can you activate portkey?
Butterflies sprung up in her stomach.
Give me a few minutes.
She thought briefly about sneaking away, but she couldn't do that. Harry would panic if he woke alone, and she felt badly enough about what she'd done to him during the destruction of the horcruxes. He'd gone to bed well before sunset, so she didn't feel terribly guilty about waking him.
"Harry. Harry, wake up!" she whispered.
"S'it my turn to take watch?" he mumbled.
"I need to go."
"Huh?"
"My bracelet, L-um, Draco needs to see me. I think he has news."
Harry sat up abruptly in bed.
"Oh. Then you should go. What time is it?"
"Almost midnight."
"It was almost time for me to get up anyway then."
He frowned for a moment before speaking again. "Do you think I could meet with Malfoy too?"
Her heart dropped into her stomach. Fuck. How was she supposed to accommodate that kind of a request?
"Why?" she asked, hoping she did not sound nervous.
"Well, I mean, I just thought...look, he was a right git to us in school, and I just wanted to thank him for what he's doing and try to find out more about what the Death Eaters are doing. Plus, I thought maybe…"
"Yes?" she prompted.
"Well, I mean, I haven't been able to get a message to Sirius because we didn't want to risk a patronus. I was thinking maybe he'd have access to an owl we could use."
An owl wasn't exactly the most secure of messengers these days, as they could be shot out of the sky and their messages intercepted, but it was better than nothing. Not to mention that she'd been considering using the Owlery at Hogwarts to notify the Order to schedule a meet up.
"I can ask. I don't know if he normally keeps an owl at the property in Scotland," she admitted. "But Harry, um, I don't want to be rude but…"
"Yeah?"
"I haven't seen him in ages, and we usually don't talk about the war until…" her face burned bright with embarrassment. "After."
"After?" he repeated in confusion.
"You know. After."
He finally got it then, and his face flushed crimson for a moment. "Oh. Yeah. Sorry, I um, wasn't thinking about that. Ugh, 'Mione, I really didn't want that mental picture."
"Go ahead and write out a message for Sirius, and if there's an owl there, I'll send it off for you. I asked if he had news, and he asked me to come to him."
They debated together what to say in a letter to the Order, finally settling on letting them know that they had to get into Hogwarts and would send a message to them after they'd accomplished their mission at the school, to meet up and plan for what they hoped would be a final battle. Hermione was impatient the entire time Harry scrawled out the note, eager to get to Lucius.
Finally, with the letter tucked safely in her robe pocket, she stepped outside of the wards they'd erected around the shack and activated the portkey.
~oOo~
Lucius Malfoy was a vision in grey silk pajama bottoms, standing there with his arms crossed over his bare chest.
"You… you're…" she was speechless at the sight of him. She'd expected Death Eater robes, and she was more than a little bit self-conscious about her repeatedly scourgified clothes and tangled hair.
"Hello pet."
He held open his arms to her, and she ran to him, clutching him fiercely.
"You have no idea… it's been awful. I did a terrible, terrible thing, Lucius," she whispered into his neck, tears pricking at her eyes.
"Tell me. Tell me everything."
His voice was like a drug, an anesthetic that slid down her spine, numbing the pain and the guilt she'd felt.
In a halting voice, she clung to him as she told him about the mysterious patronus, the sword, the destruction of the horcruxes, and what Harry had seen.
He tilted her chin up, so she was forced to look at him.
"You saw me? In that… thing?"
"I never wanted Harry to find out that way," she whispered. "It was horrible."
He cupped her face, his hands warm on her cheeks. "Oh, pet. I promise you, the Dark Lord knows nothing of our involvement. I would never do that."
She looked into his eyes, searching for truth, for devotion. After a long moment, she nodded, contentment warming her, body and soul. He cared for her, he did. The horcrux was nothing but fear and lies.
"And the other Death Eaters? Narcissa? Do they know?" she asked. She believed him, and she knew that she had no reason to doubt him, but she still felt raw and insecure from the previous night's activities.
He sighed.
"Narcissa is aware that I am seeing someone," he said finally. "She does not know who, nor does she particularly care, if it keeps me out of her bed. I'm sure she assumes I am involved with a pureblood witch from somewhere."
He said it with such a resigned air that she felt bad for thinking that the vision from the horcrux could possibly be true.
"You know that my son is marked. He is aware that you are very important to me," he continued. "He has been sworn to secrecy, on his magic."
Her eyes widened in surprise. Swearing on your magic was a very big deal.
"But Draco, he -"
"Now, tell me what Potter said, and what you did," he interrupted.
Hermione wiped at her eyes and told Lucius how Harry had tried to cast her aside, how she'd been forced to use dark magic against her dearest friend in order to protect them all.
"You were very brave," he said finally.
"I'm a horrible person," she whispered, her shoulders slumping.
"No, you are not. You did what you had to do. You said it yourself - he would have jeopardised everything by sending you away. Finding and destroying the final horcruxes is what truly matters right now. The rest of it, it can wait."
"Harry thinks I'm involved with Draco. He thinks Draco is my source," she admitted. "He has for months."
Lucius raised an eyebrow at her.
"He made assumptions, based on what he saw at Hogwarts - me being in a duel with Draco and then taking a curse for him, Draco locking me in a closet the night Dumbledore died."
Lucius ran his fingers through his long hair then and appeared to consider the matter. "I suppose that makes sense. And this was acceptable to Potter? You being involved with my son?"
"He didn't like it, but it was more plausible and less terrifying to him than me being involved with you."
His lips turned up then in a smile. "Yes, well, I can see how he would not want his friend involved with a big, bad Death Eater."
"Don't mock me, Lucius."
"I would not dream of it. Let us not worry about what Harry Potter believes at this time. We can address that later, after this is all over. We have more important things to discuss. And do."
She sincerely hoped that by 'thing to do' he meant things of an intimate nature. She smiled brightly at him, acknowledging his words and then wrapping her arms around him. He responded in kind, and then after a long moment, she was not sure how long, he patted her back awkwardly.
"Hermione, I am of course most delighted to see you, and I have missed you as well. However forgive my lack of manners when I say that you smell. And not in a good way."
"Oh my god." She stepped out of his embrace, her face burning with mortification.
"I… well, we've been on the run…" she started to explain.
"Shower. Get cleaned up, and I'll have Mipsy bring up a tray of food."
Her stomach rumbled in agreement with this plan, and they ventured upstairs.
~oOo~
The shower was heavenly, and the food even better. She ate in front of the fireplace, wrapped in a blanket as Mipsy cleaned her filthy clothes.
"I guess I expected to see you looking more battle-weary," she admitted in between bites of roast chicken.
"I've been traveling."
"Where?"
"The continent. The Dark Lord is trying to drum up international support - or at least prevent international interference in his takeover of the wizarding Britain."
She stared at him in horror. "Is He successful?"
Lucius shrugged. "Our world is rather insular, as you've noticed, and traditionally we do not interfere in another country's business. There is not a great deal of interest in wizarding France or Germany to invade Britain. As long as the Dark Lord keeps his ambitions confined to our island, they prefer to stay out of it."
"Is that...I don't know enough about international wizarding politics to know if that's good or bad for Harry," she admitted.
"Should Mr. Potter falter, you cannot expect International Confederation of Wizards to intervene. They will act only if the Dark Lord attempts to spread his rule beyond Britain."
"Oh." She felt deflated at this news. "Was this the news you had for me?"
"No, there is more. The Dark Lord has gathered support from the acromantulas that reside in the Forbidden Forest, and He has also brought Fenrir Greyback's werewolf pack under His control. You need to let the Order know to be prepared for creature attacks. I have gathered some numbers for them."
She stared at him in horror. This was terrible news.
"I don't have any way of contacting the Order. A patronus is too easily overheard, we don't have an owl, and the last time we ventured somewhere to try to meet up with someone, Harry was nearly killed by the Dark Lord's giant snake!" she pushed out in breathless frustration.
"I DO have an owl, and you are welcome to use it. You should send a message to them tonight."
"We've been worried about the possibility of owls being intercepted," she admitted.
"You are wise to be wary, but it's actually very difficult to shoot an owl from the sky. They are magical creatures, you know. Besides," he said with a smirk, "The Dark Lord's army has better things to do than try to shoot random owls from the sky on the off chance someone from the Order is sending a message. Come then. Let's send your letter."
She looked at the blanket wrapped around her. "Now?"
"No time like the present. Besides, Archimedes is here."
"You keep an owl here?" she asked in surprise.
He shrugged. "Once this became our primary meeting place, it just made sense. He's not here all the time."
She stood when Lucius did and followed him down a long hallway, up a flight of stairs, and through darkened corridors. The lodge was admittedly rather foreboding at night. He led her to a small room that had only a simple desk and a narrow flight of stairs.
"You will need to draft the message yourself, so they'll recognise your writing and your words," he said, motioning her to the desk.
She sat down and reached for a quill and parchment. Lucius stood over her shoulder and recited all of the news and facts he could recall that he felt were of importance for the Order to know. She added a few personal notes - little insignificant statements to confirm that the message was indeed coming from her - and folded the parchment around Harry's note.
"What is that?" he asked.
"A letter, from Harry."
To his credit, Lucius did not ask to read it or even inquire about the contents therein. She sealed the envelope, casting a magical charm on it to open only for the addressee or his designee and then followed Lucius up the stairs to the owlery.
Archimedes was an eagle owl, mostly brown and grey. He was… surprisingly common in appearance as far as owls went. She wasn't sure why, but she'd somehow pictured Lucius owning an enormous, grand owl that stood out from all the others. The nondescript appearance of the bird made her feel better about his ability to slip undetected through the night sky. The bird hooted at them and flew to a perch near Lucius, who reached out and passed him a treat.
"Alright pet, give it to him. He's very smart and good at staying out of sight."
Once the parchment was carefully attached to the owl, Lucius stroked his feathers gently. "Go on then, to Sirius Black," he said softly.
Hermione wrapped the blanket more tightly around herself, shivering the cold night air as she watched the bird take flight. She could only pray that the news reached the Order in a timely manner.
~oOo~
She expected to return to the bedroom they always visited when she was here, but instead he took her on a detour. They ended up in a space that made her gasp in awe. There on the fourth floor, a secluded corner opened onto a balcony overlooking the library. The drapes to the room were open, casting moonlight over rows upon rows of books.
"Beautiful," she whispered. She approached the balcony railing and rested her hands on the elegantly carved wood. She leaned over enough to take in the view below.
"It is, isn't it? And yet it's rather quaint compared to the library at Malfoy Manor. Regrettably, it is not safe for me to take you there," he admitted. "Someday though…"
He came up behind her and place a hand on the railing on either side of her, caging her in.
"Someday," she repeated.
"I'll show you all of it, after all of this is over," he said faintly.
"I'd like that. But I like it here too. It feels like we're in our own little world here," she admitted.
He moved closer to her, and she felt his breath in her hair. "This is indeed our own little world, pet, and so filled with wonderful memories. Look down there. That chair by the fireplace is where I added the sapphire to your bracelet."
She smiled at the sight of the wingback chair, and her heart warmed at the idea that Lucius Malfoy remembered that day more than a year ago, remembered exactly where they'd sat as they exchanged presents for Christmas.
"And that table? Do you see that?" he asked, nuzzling her hair and nipping gently at her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.
"Yes." Her voice felt shaky to her.
"That table is where I laid you out, stripped bare for my pleasure, where I spread your legs and licked your sweet cunt until you begged me to stop."
Oh god. Oh fuck. Her heart pounded and a flash of heat shot through her at his indecent words and the very decadent memory they conjured. It had been the first time he'd used his mouth on her, that his sinful tongue had made her writhe and gasp, and moan, and eventually beg.
A soft whimper involuntarily slipped past her lips. Lucius pressed her body against hers, grinding his hips into the curve of her arse.
"I loved seeing you spread out like that, just for me. Only for me," he murmured.
"Yesss…" she sighed, tipping her head back so he could press a hot kiss into the sensitive skin of her neck.
"You have no idea what it does to me to know that no wizard, no man, had ever tasted your sweet cunt before, pet."
Her face flushed at his crude language, even as his possessiveness thrilled her.
"Just you, Lucius. Just you."
"Always. Just me, Hermione."
His hand suddenly fisted in her hair, jerking her head back harder. She could see him then, his grey eyes gazing intently at her.
"Say it," he hissed.
She blinked at him in confusion.
"You are mine. I want to hear you say it."
"Yours," she whispered. "I'm yours, Lucius."
"Good girl."
He descended on her then, kissing her with a ferocity and an intensity that thrilled her, his tongue dominating her mouth. She felt breathless when he finally broke away and turned her head back to face the library below.
"And the sofa. You remember the sofa, don't you pet?" he prompted, his voice like liquid silk again.
"I do."
"I bent you over the arm of that sofa, your pert little arse bared to me, and I fucked you so hard."
She groaned then, arching her back, pressing her body into his at the memory. He'd laid a book on the sofa cushion, a text on strategic magical attacks and defensive manoeuvres. Then he'd bent her over the arm of the sofa so she could easily see the pages, and he'd bid her to read aloud whilst her fucked her. She could still feel the palm of his hand, warm and heavy as he'd pinned her down before grabbing her hair and her hip, could still remember the way his hand slapped harshly at her arse every time she faltered in her reading. She could still recalled the pious tone of voice he'd taken with her as he'd insisted such methods would ensure the properly retained this important material. He'd been correct.
The memory had her rubbing her thighs together, desperate for something, anything he might bestow upon her.
"Lucius," she breathed, "Please…"
He tugged at the blanket, dropping it to the floor, leaving her shivering and naked on the balcony.
"Yes, pet?"
"Please…"
"What do you need?"
"You. I want you."
"Do not remove your hands from the railing."
She nodded and gripped the polished wood.
"Good girl."
She could not hold back the moan when a hand grasped her breast roughly, twisting her nipple, or when she felt the head of his cock slip between her legs. She cried out when he pushed into her.
Yes this, she thought, this was what she'd missed for so long. This was where she belonged, here, with Lucius. Harry was so dear to her, and she loved him, loved him like a brother, but Lucius was her world. He was in her, around her. His hands were warm on her body, and his voice was hypnotising, as he whispered filthy words to her, words of praise and promise.
He took her hard and fast, making her shriek and moan and then beg for release. Her cries of 'Lucius, please… please, I need to come,' egging him on. She tried to lift a hand from the railing, to pull him closer, to tangle in his hair, to hold her to him, but he slapped her arse as he had that night on the sofa downstairs. Each strike of his palm on her skin reverberated through her, making her jerk in his hold.
He brought her over the edge not once but twice, and by the time he emptied inside her, she was hanging onto the railing, her chest and head dangling over it, red-faced and gasping. Her legs felt like muggle jello when he finally pulled away from her. He caught her before she slid onto the balcony floor.
He was tired and breathing hard as well, but he wrapped her in the blanket and carried her back to the bedroom she'd come to know as theirs.
~oOo~
I'm desperately trying to stick to a once a week update schedule, but I'm out of mostly pre-written chapters. I'd like to thank BlacksSilver rose for being my 600th follower and an unnamed guest for writing my 400th review. I am truly in awe of how all of you lovely people have responded to this story. It's beyond anything I could have ever anticipated, especially for my first Harry Potter story. I so appreciate every question you've asked and every bit of feedback you've shared with me so far on this journey.
-Elle