DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling owns most of the characters and settings here—I own the rest.

Greetings, readers. Again, I urge you to check out the Author's Notes at the beginning of the story-if you are wondering what the heck is going on, they may assist. (TL/DR version: My fancast Walden Macnair is Joe Manganiello, and NOT the various dudes from the films.) I realize this is an unusual pairing for many of you all, and I will endeavor to keep things interesting. For Lucius fans, he will be back, never fear. This chapter, however, is a bit intense and lemony...so enjoy!

NOTHING ELSE MATTERS

Chapter 9 - Eponymous

"Trust I seek and I find in you
Every day for us something new
Open mind for a different view
And nothing else matters..."

Metallica "Nothing Else Matters"

The castle's library was in a large turret room, and Hermione could tell immediately that it had been magically expanded. Elaborately carved curved bookshelves, packed with tomes, wound around the walls. In the center of the room, a grouping of large armchairs-two of which housed the Macnairs-surrounded a table piled high with books and tea things; across from the table, there was a large fireplace with a crackling fire...and hanging above it, making Hermione feel even more welcome, was a large Gryffindor tapestry. Binkus stood next to the fireplace, hanging up a tea kettle from an iron frame.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Er...can we come back here, preferably when we have more time?"

Walden chuckled. "Nae surprised that ye liked me Da's addition to the room; me parents would be glad to have ye visit whenever ye want."

Elspeth stood up and approached them, taking Hermione's hand in hers again. "You two doona need to wait around here with us, go on back to the lodge, and we'll see you tomorrow night for supper."

"Thank you for everything, Mrs. Macnair."

"And I'll keep him out of yer fireplace, son," Elspeth added. "Now go on, he's asleep, go before ye wake him up...ye'd better Disapparate from the other room just in case, or use the Floo."

Although Walden wasn't happy about it, he consented to have Hermione lower the lodge's wards and Disapparate them. "I don't trust that 25 percent failure threshold, too much of a chance of Splinching," she said, and he nodded. "I did that on me first try for a licence, left me big toe on the far side of Hogsmeade, it hurt like the dickens and I had ta wait three months to be tested again, me Da has never let me forget."

Once they appeared in the kitchen at the lodge, Hermione waved her wand to restore the wards. "And I'm going to look for a solution to your fire-call issue...but for now, we can just put the fire out up there, I can set up some Bluebell Flames..." She glanced at the table, where Hagrid's letter still sat, looking slightly crumpled. "I should get rid of this."

"I really do need to talk to him, lass, I've needed to for years...I just canna figure out how to do it, exactly."

"I suppose I need to talk to him as well." She tossed the letter into the embers and they immediately caught, obliterating the letter within seconds. "But I'd rather not think about that any more right now."

"Nor would I," and with that, Walden picked Hermione up in his arms, using very little effort, tossed her over his shoulder, slapped her on the arse in a playful manner, and dashed out of the room and up the stairs. It all happened so fast that she had no time to say anything.

An hour later, they lay together, sweaty from their exertions, the coverlet pushed down at their feet. The Bluebell Flames pulsated wildly from the top of a vase sitting on Walden's bedside table.

"Thank ye for comin' back, mo ghra," he finally said.

"I shouldn't have left," she answered, as she gently withdrew herself from his embrace, then sat up and stretched. "I should have just talked to you about it. Perhaps you're not aware...Ron, Harry and I were rather close with Hagrid while I was at school, but I haven't had much reason to speak with him during the past few years. And it was obvious from his testimony that he is still holding a substantial grudge against you...and..."

"Aye, as I said, he has a right to be angry wi' me. I've needed to talk with him for years now, but I canna go to Hogwarts." Walden sat up, withdrew his pillow, punched at it, flipped it over, and put it back under his head.

"Yes, I recall that phrase in your parole agreement; but it merely said you couldn't go there on your own-Lucius had the same stipulation in his, as well as his removal from the Board of Governors. I'll see what I can do about it when I get back to the office; however, someone could go with you-perhaps your Mum?" Hermione reached over to the table on her side of the bed, withdrew her robe from her beaded bag, and put it on. "I'm going to go to the loo and then see if I can find something to drink-would you like anything?"

"Doona worry about that, I'll get Binkus back over here. I know ye're nae fond of havin' the elves around, but we've never treated them poorly. Mum wouldna stand for it."

"I don't have a problem with them being around, it is their treatment I'm concerned with," and she paused. "Er...as long as you don't hang their heads on the wall..."

"Nay, that's a tradition of House Black, not ours, mo chridhe," Walden said. "I do have a trophy room, but I promise ye, no elves are mounted up there...I'll take ye down there and show ye later."

When she returned, Walden had donned his robe and was sitting up in the bed, having a glass of mead and reading a letter. "Got some things, a wee snack," and he gestured to a tray sitting next to the flickering jar of flames on his bedside table. "Letter from Rowle," he added, nodding his head at the parchment. "He's gone to work at Lucius' new endeavour...tryin' ta get me to help out."

"I have my doubts about that Alliance business," Hermione began, as she poured herself a glass of water from a large glass pitcher, and then drained it in one go. "It all seemed a bit too calculated and rather vague." She sat the glass down and examined the food tray, then poured another glass of water.

"Lucius wants to publish a book, have us all give interviews for it...well, the ones of us that are left, that is...nae sure I want to go through that again," Walden said, sitting both the letter and the mead down and then patting the bed next to him. "Come here, lass."

Hermione tentatively climbed back up in bed next to him. "Closer than that," he said, as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. "You taste like mead," she murmured, as he lowered her to the pillows and then untied the belt on her robe. He reached over to the table and picked up the mead glass again, and smiled, as he tipped the glass over so that several golden droplets landed on her breasts and belly. "So do ye, mo ghra," he murmured, before he moved his way down her body, kissing and nipping, teasing her with his tongue. She cried out in pleasure as he reached the juncture of her thighs, nudging them apart with his hands, then he licked two of his broad fingers and slid them into her, starting a sweet, maddening rhythm, as he bent his head down and sucked at her core. At this point, she was groaning incoherently, her hands gripping his head, and after what seemed like an eternity, she shuddered and climaxed around him. He withdrew his fingers slowly, shrugged out of his robe, and rolled her over on her back. As he poised the tip of his prick at her entrance, he whispered in her ear, "Shall I do that charm again, lass, before I plow ye?" "You bloody...well...know...you don't need it..." she panted. "Och, tha gaol agam ort..." he murmured. "...are ye sure?" "Very...sure...please..." she panted, and he entered her in one swift stroke, filling her completely, and then rode her hard, pinning her shoulders to the bed, grunting with each thrust, and she met and matched his passion. They exploded together, and as their loud sighs and groans entwined in the air around them, their magical cores met, and the Bluebell Flames in the vase flared up until they nearly touched the ceiling. When he rolled off her, he murmured, "ye're like sweet, velvet fire around me cock, lass, ye're amazin'..." and he let his voice trail off as he crushed her in his arms and kissed her forehead.

"Is there," she began, hoarsely, and then, thinking better of it, she rolled over, sat up and reached for her glass of water. "Er, is there a chance that potion could still be working from last night?"

"Och, Lucius always said there were sometimes lingering effects," he answered, as he stretched and then sat up next to her. "Why do ye ask?"

"Because ...well. Because I've never, er...oh sod it. This is the best bloody sex I've ever had in my life, at least so far," she said. "So what's in that potion?"

He reached over and quaffed his mead, then answered, "It's a powerful, fast-acting lust potion of Lucius' own design, slightly different for witches and wizards...and there's a contraceptive in it, too. There were always additional charms in the walls at the Manor to reinforce that last bit, and...er, by the way...I noticed ye weren't wearing any jewelry..." Walden said, sounding a bit tentative. "Like, ye know, a ring or such..."

"A ring?" Surely, thought Hermione, he wasn't trying to offer her one? He was already saying all sorts of Gaelic endearments...including that he loved her, she thought, but she had chosen to not acknowledge them as of yet.

"Me...er...me wife wore one. It must be a Yank thing, ye know, for..."

"For birth control, yes," Hermione finished. "I've read about those, never seen one, they are mostly used in America and Canada. For that, I do a six-month potion at St. Mungo's, not that I've...er, really needed it until now, I started it when, er...when McLaggen was..."

"Sniffin' round ye?" Walden said, smiling. "Ye do like yer Quidditch players, lass. Ye know I played at school, used to play at the Ministry, too."

"What did you play?" she asked, before realizing there were only two logical choices. "No, wait. Either Keeper or Beater, Cormac was large like you, and he was a Keeper...and Viktor always said that he was taller than most Seekers..."

"I was a Beater on me House team and at the Ministry, and McLaggen is a gorach git."

"He is rather witless," Hermione mused.

"Ye understand the Gaelic?" Walden asked, incredulously.

"A bit here and there, I took a course a couple of years ago, for fun." She stood up and retrieved her robe from where it had fallen off the end of the bed, donned it, and slowly walked over to Walden's side of the bed and examined the food tray again, before picking up a piece of shortbread and munching on it. "I have a hard time with the pronunciation myself, all those extra letters."

"So ye know what I've been sayin' to ye," he said, slowly, as he sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stood up next to Hermione.

"Yes, well...some of it." She finished the shortbread and reached for a bunch of grapes, but his hand intercepted hers. "I mean it, ye know," and he gently tugged her so she was facing him, and he gripped her hands tightly and spoke in a low voice, "I've loved ye for years, I'm sorry, I canna help it...me heart was broken and closed up after...well, after he killed her, and I thought about killin' meself, even bought the potion for it down Knockturn. But er...Avery said he needed some and I sold it to him. Then I was going to ask Lucius to do the Avada, and he refused. So, I was actually hopin' that I'd nae recover from being thrown against that wall, Hagrid had done me a huge favour. But when I woke up from that I was in Azkaban and, ye know, there were nae more dementors, so it wasna easy to just give up and die."

"You...you never said that in your testimony," Hermione stammered.

"I wasna going to say I loved ye in front of those Ministry dobbers, they'd just find a way ta use it against me, and it just happened one day, I came in for one of th' interviews we did, and I knew, I was holding ye in my heart. Told ye I had lots of practice keepin' things to meself." He paused. "Ye doona have to love me back, ye know. I know we're too different, and I doona expect it...but I would like it if ye would come with me to bring me son home."

"Yes," Hermione said, as she looked into his bright blue eyes. "I'm sorry, I should have said before. I will go with you."