DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling owns most of the characters and settings here—I own the rest.
Thank you to all reviewers and those who have favorited and followed this story. I will endeavor to keep you entertained.
(OBTW, my fancast for Macnair is Joe Manganiello, but Lucius remains, as always, the marvelous Jason Isaacs.)
NOTHING ELSE MATTERS
Chapter 5 - Owl Post
The bath, at first, was a rather frustrating experience. Walden's wand waves produced a rather thin stream of rusty-looking, very frigid water, rather than the hot, perfumed water they'd both been expecting...not to mention which, the bathroom was dark and gloomy, with no towels or any grooming products in sight. When Hermione started to try and fix it, he gave her a look, and they both just stood there for several minutes, as the faucet continued to sputter away into the large, dusty bathtub.
"Elves?" she finally asked, lowering her wand.
"Aye," he grunted. While they waited, seated at the end of Walden's oversized bed, Binkus appeared to rectify the situation.
"Sorry again, lass," he said, staring into the flickering flames of the fireplace that dominated the other side of the room.
"It's really all right. It's not as if you didn't warn me about it."
"Aye, but I didna warn ye about Lucius. And it is yer choice if ye want him to stay or nae. I wouldn't be chuffed if ye sent him back to the Manor to have a hot date with Madam Palmer and her five sisters."
Hermione laughed, and then asked, "But, what about Madam Malfoy..."
"Isna there. She came to the trials wi' him, but she's been in France for quite a while now."
"She certainly was making it seem as if she still cared about him the last few years."
"She was doing him a favor," Walden said. "He always has some kind o' balance sheet, no matter who he deals with. And by the way, lass, he now has one with ye; I'm sure ye noticed."
"Oh, I noticed. I'm still planning on sending an owl to my friend at the Prophet. Anyway...what happens if you drink that potion and, well, don't follow up on it?"
"I never found out for meself, personally, but Avery was always doin' a powerful lot of wanking at the Revels."
Hermione turned to look at him. "I'm not going to make you wank off," she said. "Lucius, on the other hand..." and she winked at him, just before she lightly kissed him on the lips. "He may have to wait for his dessert; he did remind me it was ladies' choice."
He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. "Are ye feelin' it at all, lass?"
"I most certainly am, and it appears you are as well," and she slid her hands down over the tent in his robes.
"I'm always like that around ye," he whispered in her ear. "For ages now."
"Since when?"
"Since ye started workin' wi' me," he said. "When ye didna treat me like the rest of the Ministry cunts did. Why do ye think I wanted to thank ye the other night?"
"But I never noticed..." She'd moved down now, so that she was on her knees before him; his breath was coming in short, sharp bursts, his eyes slitted with pleasure, as she slowly slid her hands beneath his robes.
"Lots o' practice keepin' things to meself in Azkaban and at me parents..." and then he groaned loudly as she took him into her mouth. "Och..." he grunted. "Och...the potion works faster if ye're already connected to yer partner..."
"Oh, indeed it does," said Lucius, from the doorway. "And it's rather more intense...So finish him off, my dear, I can wait...for now," he added, as he smoothed his hands down the front of his robes. "I'll go check on that bath, shall I?"
"Bloody...ummmm...bloody hell, Lucius," Walden managed to stammer. "Och...ye know it's the lass's choice for ye to stay...ummmm...I canna..." He'd tangled his hands in her hair and was pushing her head back and forth in a slow, pleasurable motion as she hummed around him.
"You 'canna,' and she's rather too busy to answer right now, although she is nodding her head, so I'll take that as a 'yes'. I'll be waiting for you both in the bath," he said, and with an elegant flick of his wand, he attempted to divest himself of his robes.
Unfortunately, the robes did nothing other than flipping up and shaking about wildly, while Lucius cursed. "What the hell is this! Stop that, you blasted things, just...fucking...STOP!"
"What are ye saying...I canna stop now...I'm gonna spend...oh lass, oh aye, right there...ummmm..." and with a very loud groan, Walden spent himself.
"What on earth was all that..." Hermione slowly turned around. "Oh." Lucius was still encased in his flapping, shaking robes and was still muttering spells in order to try and calm them down, which wasn't improving the situation. "Someone at the Ministry really has a sick sense of humour."
Walden stood up, but he was still breathing rather heavily. "Lucius," he said. "I think this is probably yer cue to exit, laddie."
"As soon as I get...these...sodding...robes...to...stop..." None of his spells seemed to have the least effect; his robes had billowed out like a schooner at full sail.
"Finite Incantatem!" shouted Hermione. "Now, really, Lucius. I don't think there's any way even another bottle of potion is going to bring the mood back for a while. Why don't you just run along home now, and you can imagine what we'll be doing for the rest of the evening? I promise I'll take some very...detailed...notes."
The next morning, Hermione woke rather early; old habits, it seemed, died hard. Walden was peacefully sleeping, one arm flung over his head, and she decided to leave him there for the time being. She cast Muffliato around herself, pulled some grooming items out of her beaded bag and stashed them in the bathroom, and finally, found her robe, pajamas and slippers, donned them, and headed down to the kitchen, where Binkus was already hard at work cleaning and fixing tea. A glance in the larder revealed that it was empty, save four dusty cans of haggis, but baskets of food were sitting on the table, clearly ready to stock the shelves.
After several polite requests, she installed herself at the table next to the baskets with a stack of parchment and a steaming mug of tea. Her owl, Miranda, was perched on the top of the chair across from her, pecking happily away at part of a toasted muffin, as her "Accio Owl Treats" spell had not produced any result.
Within thirty minutes, she'd written three letters, one to the Australian Wizarding Embassy asking if she needed to apply for a visa prior to Portkeying, one to Anthony Goldstein, asking if he could, very politely, point out to Rita Skeeter that she had actually been Walden's assigned defence barrister (although it was hardly a secret) and he'd merely come by her office to thank her for all her service on his behalf, and, finally, one to Percy Weasley (who was not technically her supervisor, but he was senior to her) telling him that she would actually need to be taking off the extra time, most likely a month, and could he please pass the information on to anyone who needed it?
Miranda took the latter two letters, and Binkus brought her an owl from somewhere (she wondered if it was Walden's), for the Embassy letter...and then there was just one more to send, and she'd noted that the letter from Ron was not in the same place it had been when she left the kitchen the previous evening. It was clear that Walden had read it, rather by accident or design, she was not sure...and she was also not sure how to take his rather possessive-sounding pronouncement, either.
Nevertheless, there was no good purpose to never answering Ron's owl, so after some deliberation, she wrote:
Ronald,
As you may or may not recall, I need to go to Australia to try and locate my parents and break the charm, so they can return home...if they wish. I've taken off time to do that, which is, I suppose, what my co-workers told you. Thank you very much for the offer of lunch; I'll take you up on it after I get back.
-H.
Of course, she mused, her polite fiction would best be served by waiting for her own owl to return to post the letter, rather than attempting to borrow another of the Macnair owls...so she sipped at her tea and stared out at the rain-swept countryside. But she did not have to wait long; two owls approached-one with what appeared to be two copies of the Prophet, and the eagle owl of Lucius', bearing a single grey envelope.
She wasted no time in using the paper-carrier owl to send her missive to Ron, and sat one of the papers aside for Walden to read later. The owl from Lucius was actually for her, and read:
My Dear Hermione,
I am truly sorry at what transpired last evening and hope to be able to make it up to you before your departure overseas.
With Much Admiration,
Lucius
"Hmmm, so it's still my choice, then, is it?" she chuckled to herself, before flipping the note over and dashing off a very hurried reply:
If time permits.
-H.
After all, she still might need to make an in-person Embassy visit, and she was truly enjoying Walden's quiet companionship. With that, she finished her tea (Binkus immediately filled it) and flipped through the Prophet. Not only was there no further gossip from Skeeter, there was not a Skeeter column at all to be found on any page. And since, Hermione mused, there was no wizarding Internet, it wasn't as if the story would live on long-it was most likely already being used to line owl and rat cages and hold fish and chips at Susan Bones' new Diagon Alley eatery. Clearly, Lucius' favors were rather more potent than his current wand, and she considered, just for a moment, sending an addendum to her rather terse note. On the other hand, the Malfoy testimony had dominated her life for the last few years, so she almost felt as if they had already been to bed.
An hour later, both the paper and her leisurely breakfast finished, she started to get up from the table, but glimpsed the paper-carrier owl hurtling back toward the house, a red envelope clutched in its beak.
"What the..." Hermione said, as she automatically cast Muffliato, before opening the window.
The Howler was addressed to "Miss Hermione Granger, Wherever She Is!" and instantly opened itself up, and a very familiar, angry voice filled the silence-bubble around her.
"HERMIONE, I WAS JUST AT YOUR APARTMENT AND YOU AREN'T HOME AND THERE'S A STACK OF MAIL THERE FOR YOU, SO I WENT TO HARRY AND GINNY'S BUT YOU AREN'T THERE EITHER AND THEY HAVEN'T HEARD FROM YOU IN A WEEK! AND PERCY JUST TOLD ME YOU HAVEN'T LEFT FOR AUSTRALIA YET, BECAUSE HE JUST GOT AN OWL SAYING YOU'RE TAKING OFF FOR A MONTH AS OF TODAY...AND HE ALSO TOLD ME THAT THE LAST TIME HE SAW YOU, YOU WERE GOING OFF SOMEWHERE WITH THAT FOUL, DISGUSTING FUCKING DEATH EATER EXECUTIONER WHO KILLED BUCKBEAK, AND I READ ABOUT THAT IN THE PAPER, TOO, AND YOU'D BETTER NOT STILL BE WITH HIM...and the Howler paused a bit, likely for Ron to take a breath...OR...OR YOU'LL BE SORRY!"
Hermione poked her head out of the bubble. "Accio Single Malt," she barked, as the Howler exploded into ash on the table behind her, and a bottle obligingly removed itself from one of the baskets on the table for her. After two quick slugs, she handed her bread crusts to the owl, and told it to wait, then, ensuring she was still in the bubble, she held her wand to her throat and intoned...
"YOU HAVE A LOT OF NERVE, YOU...YOU...TOMCATTING GRYFFINDORK! I'D BE A LOT SORRIER IF I HAD TO LOOK AT YOUR SMIRKING FACE! GO FUCK ONE OF YOUR PATHETIC SLAGS AND DON'T BOTHER WRITING ME AGAIN...AND BY THE WAY, HE DIDN'T KILL BUCKBEAK, YOU STUPID, BRAINLESS TWIT, BUT I WOULDN'T EXPECT YOU TO REMEMBER THAT EITHER!" She smashed the tip of her wand into the top piece of parchment, which immediately turned red and folded itself up. The owl hopped over, grabbed it, and soared out the window and Hermione slumped in her seat and muttered "Finite."
"What's goin' on here, lassie?" Walden said, as he approached the table. He was wearing a large tartan lounging robe and a tall pair of wool socks. "What was that all about?"
"That," Hermione said, taking another slug of whisky, straight from the bottle, "was hopefully the end of something I should have ended a long time ago."