DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling owns most of the characters and settings here—I own the rest.
NOTHING ELSE MATTERS
Chapter 4 - Solve Et Coagula
An hour later, the rather unlikely trio sat around the dinner table, waiting to be served by a small contingent of Malfoy Manor elves, who had been pressed into service in order to "get this place back to, at least, an approximation of civility," or so Lucius had said, sotto voce, to Hermione, when Walden had stepped away to the loo.
"Have either of you ever been to Australia?" Hermione said, to break the silence, after she sat down her wineglass.
"Nay," Walden grunted. "I think that was probably rather the point; not only have most of us not been there, neither had our erstwhile leader." Lucius amplified. "Although Crabbe and Goyle have been making noises about taking the New Zealand option."
"I wondered if any of you would consider that; I know some of the others have been applying at St. Mungo's and at that new think-tank..."
"The Alliance for Magical Unity," Lucius said. "Indeed, I'd tried to convince this one that he needed to come there with me," and he gestured at Walden.
"Still nae interested," Walden said. "But I am still interested in why ye invited yerself to me house, laddie."
"Because, my dear Walden, it's clear that the unpleasant stasis that both our lives have embodied for the last seven years is about to end. It's obvious that you're finally moving on, and I believe that's an event that should be celebrated." He smiled a bit, as his words were punctuated by the elves levitating in a number of platters piled high with delicious, savory foods, which were distributed around the table. Everyone took a moment to fill their respective plates and for a while, polite silence reigned, punctuated only by the clink of cutlery.
When the meal was winding down, Walden finally said, after he'd drained his cup of coffee, "Thought we weren't ever going to have any more...parties, laddie, or isna that what ye said after that night?"
"Walden, I hardly think you need to bring that up, I was under duress-"
"Pardon me, but I do actually recall that part of the testimony," Hermione said. "And what you said, Mr. Malfoy, to my recollection, was that, "this will be the last Revel ever held at my Manor, and I'd be willing to go under Crucio rather than endure anymore."
"Good Merlin, Miss Granger, I certainly hope you didn't memorize everything that was said during the trials." Lucius picked up his coffee while looking appraisingly at Hermione. "That bit shouldn't be taken out of context, anyhow."
"During the time it was necessary, I most certainly did, Mr. Malfoy."
"I know what ye're doing, Lucius, and ye need to fucking stop. After ye stuff yerself with those petits fours, ye'll be needin' to leave." Walden stood up. "Pardon, I'll be back shortly."
After he'd strode through the door, Lucius turned again to Hermione. "I realize this is rather impertinent, but would you happen to have any insight on why he keeps walking out of the room in the middle of conversations? Does he have...er...some sort of condition?"
"No, he's...well, he's taking some advice I gave him a while back. I suggested that he learn some anger management techniques, and one of them involves taking himself out of stressful situations before he says or does something he's going to regret."
"That all sounds...well, rather Muggle," Lucius said, frowning slightly, and Hermione heard the slightest echo of the other, more hated word.
She looked him right in the eye. "It absolutely is. You'll have to pardon me, but I was also listening to that part in the testimony when you stated...and I'll have to paraphrase here, that although the Dark Lord felt it was necessary to prune diseased family trees, that you had come to the opinion that it was instead best to...er...fertilize them with the most positive and talented materials that could be found among those of us who were hampered in our magical development on account of our parentage. In other words, Muggle-borns like myself, of course. I am rather appreciative that you've managed to overcome your predilection for that other term."
"But of course, Miss Granger. Or may I be permitted to call you Hermione?" Lucius languidly lifted his arm and snapped his fingers. "Elves, would you please bring the brandy and dessert, and see if you can locate Mr. Macnair?"
"You may certainly call me Hermione, if I might be permitted the same courtesy?"
"But of course, my dear," Lucius said, immediately taking a further liberty. "As for your cogent summation, I did in fact say that, although I far prefer to refer to that...creature as the Pretender. And it does seem, however, as if Walden is also taking my advice, at least when it comes to the..." and he paused, and didn't finish his sentence until after he'd taken a bite of his first petit four and washed it down with a sip of brandy. "...shall we say...fertilizing?" He paused for a minute after that, and took another bite of the miniature pastry. "Absolutely delightful. Can I tempt you?" and he picked up the silver tray and extended it toward her.
"With just the pastry, or something more...Lucius?"
At that moment, Walden returned to the table and stepped next to Malfoy, plucking the tray out of his hand. "I warned ye, laddie."
"You did, old friend, but I haven't finished my dessert yet, and I did ask the lady a question."
"What ye're doin'," Walden said, as he loomed over Lucius, "is tryin' to start up a Revel at me house without me permission." And with that, he plucked a biscuit off the tray and munched on it.
"Well, there's nothing saying we can't move the rest of the evening's amusements to the Manor," Lucius said. "Of course, only if you are interested, Hermione. Since it does appear that you paid studious attention to the narrative, I don't believe I'll be needing to give you that much in the way of background information. With only three of us, we won't require elaborate choreography, but I'm certain it will prove quite pleasurable."
Hermione had no idea what to say. Somehow, the situation had escalated rather quickly from courtroom testimony to dry words on parchment to a realistic tableau. She'd spent many a night reading the rather extensive Malfoy transcriptions, and-to be perfectly honest-she'd found the material on the Dark Revels, Malfoy's semi-annual libidinous celebrations-extremely titillating, to the point where she had, more than once, visualized herself in one of the trysting rooms with a selection card, and thought seriously about which of the Death Eaters she would choose...or perhaps even a combination? Macnair had definitely been one of the ones she'd wondered about, seeing as how she had become familiar with him by that time...and he was, in reality, much better than she'd been able to imagine! And then there was also Rowle-she remembered when she had first seen him, as a seventh-year Slytherin-and Professor Snape...he had that intense stare and that voice, like honey mixed with absinthe, it was such a shame that he'd died for the cause...and Lucius, for that matter, had featured in at least one of her fantasies...and it was so very odd calling him that, she was falling down the rabbit hole every minute he spoke...
"...it's not as if my wretched in-law is a factor any more, Walden. That was quite enough to put us all off for a while, but this one," and with that, Lucius nodded in Hermione's direction, "although a rather surprising choice, has proven herself to be a worthy one," and he picked up her hand and kissed it. "What say you?"
At that point, Hermione wished for nothing so much as an immediate return to normalcy, something like the refuge of the Hogwarts library, or possibly even the Gryffindor Common Room on a school night, when the most she had ever had to worry about was whether she could finish both her assignments and whatever Harry and Ron had decided to pass off to her. And then she remembered the owl from Ron, and was propelled, juddering, back to reality.
"I'm sorry, but I, er, I need to send a couple of owls," she stammered. "Er, that's not to do with this, I mean, I need to send one to the Prophet, and return one to...er...my friend." She withdrew her hand from Lucius', stood up, pushed in her chair, and started to walk out of the room. "Pardon me."
"To that fucking Weasley piece of shite, ye mean!" Walden said, as he sat the desserts tray down on the table, and then approached Hermione, putting his arm around her. "Why don't ye let him fucking stew! He's been playin' ye around for years! He doesn't deserve ye in the slightest!"
Good lord, maybe he had actually read Witch Weekly, Hermione thought. "Regardless, I do need to send the one to the Prophet."
With that, Lucius stood up and approached them. "Let me take care of the Prophet for you...I still own a substantial interest there." He positioned himself on Hermione's other side. "Dear friends, I've brought along the potions...there's no reason for us to hesitate, the night is still young...shall we adjourn this to the Manor or upstairs?" With that, he reached into his robe pocket and withdrew two cut-glass potion bottles, one red and one green, and set them upon the table, next to the petit fours.
"I can see ye're not going to stop goin' on about this," Walden began.
"Just drink the potion, brother. In honor of our long and profitable friendship. If, after that, you still wish me to leave, I will, and with compliments to the both of you, as I'm sure you'll have a most enjoyable evening."
"So that's not Amortentia, then, is it?" Hermione asked, nimbly extricating herself from the pair and bending down to examine the bottles.
Lucius chuckled. "Certainly not. These are very far from being Ministry...or Gryffindor-approved!"
"Did you brew them? What are the ingredients?" She picked up the green one. "I assume this one is for me and the other is for the both of you?"
Lucius continued with his chuckling, and picked up his brandy glass. "Tell me, Walden, exactly how much whisky did you have to give her to get her to stop asking questions and get on with sucking your cock?"
"If you absolutely must know, Lucius," Hermione said, drawing his name out into several syllables as she turned to look at him with a smirk on her face, "I drank the whisky all on my own, and I was the one to grab him first."
"Oho! I suppose I should be telling you to drink the potion first, then! Walden, I believe you've discovered a treasure. And whenever did you become so shy and retiring? I think I've made a mistake all these years eschewing the fine witches of Gryffindor."
"I think ye probably didna bring enough potion, brother," Walden growled. "I always took at least two of 'em."
"Not an issue," Lucius said, tapping the red bottle with his wand.
Nothing happened.
"Bugger! I bloody hate this thing!" Lucius growled.
"If they're not Ministry approved," Hermione said, "your wand won't work for that." She neatly tapped the bottle with her wand twice. "Luckily for us all, I'm not monitored." A second and third bottle instantly appeared. "And before you ask-you'll be using these wands for five to ten years; release from the program is contingent on at least one year of positive results from monthly wand monitoring by Madam Hopkirk. It's in the booklet; didn't you read it?"
"If we're to have any sort of pleasurable evening," Lucius said, as he picked up one of the red potion bottles, "I'll have to do my best to not think about Madam Hopkirk monitoring my wand." He uncorked it and drank. Walden silently walked over and quaffed his bottles down, sitting them back on the table with a bit more force than was necessary. He then moved closer to Hermione.
Hermione picked up the green bottle and downed it in one go. "So, how long is the incubation period? Half-hour or so? I really would like to get that Prophet business taken care of."
"Just about a half-hour, although you'll start to feel the effects in a couple of minutes. That's when we used to have the ladies make their choices, if you recall from your reading. And it should last for..." and with this, he glanced up and down at her..."I'd say about five hours for you."
"Jolly good," she said. "Did you want to get on with that owl?"
"Walden, why don't you take her upstairs to the bath? I'll get all this cleared up, send the owl, and..." he paused and looked directly at her, "...join you straightaway."