DISCLAIMER: J.K. Rowling owns most of the characters and settings here—I own the rest.
This chapter is for all you Lucius fans...enjoy!
The room in which the three take tea is based on the First Class Reading and Writing Room on the RMS Titanic, and the library is similar to the University of Coimbra General Library in Portugal. Prior to the films, I always pictured Malfoy Manor as looking like a somewhat smaller version of the Eisenhower Executive Office Building in Washington, DC, but Hardwick Hall was chosen, so I'll defer to film canon on that. The Green Velvet Room at that residence features later in the chapter.
As for Walden's lodge, Google "Giraffe Manor, the Most Magical Place on Earth." It's a building in Nairobi that was modeled after a Scottish hunting lodge, and it's the closest to what I've pictured for...way too long now! (Just the exterior, not the interior.)
NOTHING ELSE MATTERS
Chapter 12 - The Light Brigade
During the next three days, neither Hermione nor Walden chose to return to the previous topic of discussion-instead, she assisted him with re-configuring and airing out the trophy room (although she found the various heads mounted on the walls rather discomfiting), the downstairs guest bedroom, and Evan's bedroom. Other than that, they played a few rounds of chess, ate leisurely meals, took a couple of brisk walks outdoors, but most notably spent a great amount of time in Walden's bed. Some of that time was spent in companionable silence-Hermione had unpacked several cartons of books and was currently in the midst of reading a treatise on magical creatures that was neither hairy nor required a belt to strap it closed.
Walden told her that during his prolonged house arrest at the castle, his father had woken him up each day at five a.m. with "a horrible hidden device that made a great clattering racket," which she suspected was a cursed Muggle alarm clock, so by mutual agreement, the pair began having lie-ins rather than waking with the sunrise.
On the third morning, they enjoyed tea and scones in the kitchen-they'd settled into somewhat of a pleasant routine. Hermione's mail and her copy of the Prophet (still Skeeter-free) were delivered regularly by Binkus. She looked up from the crossword, which they had been working together, and spied a glowing white peacock dashing across the yard toward the kitchen window. Walden followed her gaze and glanced up.
"Lucius," he muttered, disappointedly.
The Patronus jumped in through the window, shook itself, displayed its plumage, then spoke in Lucius' voice. "My dear Hermione, I've assembled all the ingredients. The potion takes one hour to brew and two to mature. If you and Walden would arrive here at 3 PM, we'll have tea when you're done."
She glanced inquiringly at Walden, who gave a short, sharp nod.
She held her wand to her throat, said, "We shall see you then," and then pointed her wand toward the window. The shining otter gamboled away toward the tree line.
Although Hermione had been invited to numerous post-war parties at Malfoy Manor, due to her Golden Trio credentials, she'd always politely and not-so-regretfully declined. She'd not precisely stopped to consider exactly why she was continuing on her current course, but Walden's company had been, so far, surprisingly pleasant, and she found Lucius to be amusing and intellectually stimulating. His house was an entirely other matter, however. She (as well as anyone who'd stayed awake during Malfoy's trial) was aware that he'd made a number of modifications to the Manor after Voldemort's demise, but she'd never wanted to personally inspect them. During one of her many hurried lunches with Harry at the Ministry, he'd told her some specifics-the dungeons had been filled in and sealed off magically, as had at least two of the rooms, the dining and drawing room. The latter, of course, was where she'd been tortured at the hand of Bellatrix, and heard Greyback's unsettling whispers in her ear.
"It must have taken him forever with that wand of his," she mused aloud. Lucius had been the first enthusiastic beneficiary of the Monitored Wand Program, given that he'd been wandless for the last year of the war.
"What did ye say, lass?" Walden asked. They were standing in front of the Manor gates-although she knew they were no longer a deterrent, it was nevertheless still considered a breach of wizarding etiquette to Apparate directly into a home, and she'd not wanted to use the Floo Network in order to give herself time to acclimate herself to visiting a place fraught with such personal horrors.
"Sorry...all those, er, renovations he did," she clarified.
"It took most o' three years, but it's not like he had anythin' else ta do. Narcissa and Draco helped him with it as well. And I helped him the week he was doin' the dungeons...o'course, me Da was there also, complained the whole time, I was still under house arrest. Was sort of sorry to see some of the rooms down there go away..." and his voice drifted off.
"Those trysting rooms?" she asked.
"Aye, not that anyone had good memories of them left after it was all said and done," he murmured, as he looked up at the face that had materialized in the centre of the wrought iron gates. "Walden Macnair and Hermione Granger to see Lucius Malfoy, scion of the House of Malfoy and master of this Manor," he stated, in a rather sarcastic tone, whilst rolling his eyes at Hermione.
Hermione smirked as the gates swung slowly open. "He's definitely not lost his taste for grandeur," she said, glancing at the hedges and the pristine white gravel that crackled under their feet. "Nay, doubt he ever will, he was even pompous when we were in prison together," Walden replied. As that was the first time he'd brought up the subject since his confession the other evening, Hermione chose to simply nod and smile at him.
The Manor rose out of the surrounding countryside at the end of the lane. It fairly shimmered with magic, and Hermione was reminded of the numerous fairy tales she'd read in her youth. A large fountain glistened in front of the entrance area. The door was already open, and Lucius was there, leaning faux-casually against the door.
"Greetings, dear friends," he called out. "Come along, come along, everything's all set up to go." The excitement in his voice was overriding his normal luxurious drawl; Hermione almost expected him to do a somersault and jump up to greet them like Willy Wonka.
Under the guise of holding on to Walden's arm while he assisted her up the steps, she whispered in his ear, "Did he act like this at all those Revels?"
He turned to her and nodded. "Aye, he was like a lad at Honeydukes every time, ye'd think he never got properly fooked in his life."
"Now, now, brother," Lucius said. "No point in spoiling all the surprises I have planned for today, let our dear Hermione experience them for herself!" He led them through the door and down a long parquet hallway lined with ancestral portraits. Walden squeezed her hand as they walked through a set of double doors into one of the largest private libraries that Hermione had ever seen. She was unable to hold back a covetous, sighing "Oh..." at the sight of carved wooden bookshelves stretching up to the ceiling. Next to a mullioned window, an elaborate potions worktable had been set up. Lucius led Hermione there and said, "We will be back for you in an hour, my dear, do enjoy!"
It turned out that the potion was rather fiddly and required a number of ingredients that surprised Hermione; nonetheless, she finished her task in less than the allotted time, so that when he and Walden returned to the room, she had already decanted it into four sparkling cut-glass bottles, and was seated in a leather armchair, engrossed in the pages of An Advanced Treatise on Transfiguration.
"Come along for tea, my dear," he said. "You most certainly may borrow that, and you are invited to return here any time you wish."
"I do believe I'll take you up on that, thank you," Hermione said, as she tapped the book with her wand and stashed it away in her robe pocket.
Tea was served in a airy, comfortable room, which Lucius explained had originally been the Reading and Writing Room, but had been pressed into service after the renovations to become the main Drawing Room. The trio lingered through multiple refills, discussing neutral subjects such as Quidditch-Hermione snickered when Lucius revealed himself to be a fan of the Chudley Cannons-and magical creatures. Walden, with rather a lot of interruption from Lucius, told his side of the story of the failed execution of Buckbeak. The two wizards disagreed violently about Hagrid, until Hermione politely asked if they could change topics. All in all, though, it was a rather pleasant way to spend an afternoon, and by the time a soft chime sounded, indicating that the potions were ready to drink, she'd almost forgotten why she'd come there in the first place.
Lucius, on the other hand, embodied the very opposite of well-mannered frivolity as he leapt from his chair and scrambled toward the library to retrieve the potions with a perfunctory "Pardon-be right back, friends!"
"Thought he'd never leave," said Walden. "Are ye sure about all this, lass?"
"Yes. If I had wanted to avoid it, I could have come up with a suitably impressive excuse, such as my regularly scheduled monthly dinner with Kingsley," she said, smiling at him.
"Do ye actually...er...do that?" Walden looked somewhat alarmed by this prospect.
"Not currently, but nothing forges a lifelong friendship like riding together on the back of a thestral," Hermione said.
At that moment Lucius skidded back into the room, slightly out of breath, clutching the potion bottles. "Everything appears to be ready, shall we drink up and then head upstairs?"
"Would you prefer that I Apparate us?" Hermione said, after she stood up and accepted her bottle, uncorked it and drank it. Walden stood up beside her and quickly quaffed his two bottles.
"Too many wards," Lucius said. "Let's just stretch our legs a bit and walk up, shall we?" They proceeded up several flights of marble stairs to a third-floor suite at the top of one of the Manor's symmetrical towers. The room was large, with tapestries covering the walls-an enormous wooden four-poster bed with green velvet hangings dominated the space. The floor was covered in rush mats, at which Hermione was determinedly staring. Lucius had already strode through the room and opened the double doors to the en-suite bath and was waving his wand in the direction of a large, round marble tub.
"Well, half a league onward," muttered Hermione, as she approached the bath; she was already feeling a bit heated. Behind he, Walden was silent, but his looming presence was overwhelming. At last the trio stood in a semi-circle, facing the tub, which by now was half-way filled with steaming, scented bubbles.
After a long silence, during which none of them were precisely looking at each other, Hermione spoke up. "Er, I think it's probably best if I do this next bit," and although her only real-world experience with the spell had been Lucius' failed attempt, she withdrew her wand, swung it around the group, and focused, very clearly, on the single word, "Devestire." She noted for future reference that the spell removed everyone's robes and then created three neatly folded stacks of clothing in the corner of the room with each person's wand on the top...Mrs. Weasley would have loved the idea of it, if not its intended purpose.
"You are as every bit exquisite as I'd thought you'd be, my dear," Lucius said, picking up her left hand, bowing to her, and kissing it. Walden had moved so he was standing very closely behind her, and he slid his large hands down over her shoulders, then kissed her neck. "Mo ghra," he murmured. "I canna wait, let's get in there," and he picked her up, nearly effortlessly, and sat her down in the tub, before stepping in himself and sitting very closely next to her.
"Walden, you can't have her all to yourself right now, we did discuss this, brother," Lucius said, as he stepped in and sat down on the other side of Hermione. He was of rather medium build, compared to Walden, but she could not help noticing that he was fairly well-endowed and partially erect. Before too long, Walden lifted her up again and impaled her on his thick cock, as Lucius protested. "You were supposed to wait to do that!" He washed Hermione's back with a large washcloth saturated with sandalwood soap in a desultory manner, while sighing loudly in frustration. "Said I couldna wait, and I meant to fuck," Walden grunted in reply. Meanwhile, Hermione's mind swirled thickly around a single imperative and she writhed around him, sighing in pleasure as his hands spread her apart and he began thrusting wildly, as tidal waves surged through the bubble-filled water and splashed merrily over the tiles. "Oh, for Merlin's sake," Lucius whined, and from the noises he began making after that, she assumed he'd given up on the washcloth and taken himself in hand...and after several intense minutes, all three of them reached their orgasms together. Lucius panted wildly and as she felt his hot come splatter on her back, she thought that she'd possibly ask him to wash it again...and that was when she started hearing the rhythmic sound of bells, very quiet at first, but becoming more insistent as the minutes passed. Walden was still grunting, holding her tightly, as the tremors surged through him, muttering Gaelic endearments to her, she was part of his soul, his life, his everything...
The bells' melody was familiar, and she turned to Lucius, who was slumped on the side of the tub looking thoroughly disappointed, his hair and body slick with soap, and she asked, "Is that La Marseillaise?"
"Very nice accent, my dear...oh SHITE, oh BLOODY HELL!" At that last part of the sentence, Lucius had abruptly stood up in the bath, slipping a bit. "Get up, friends, we've got to get downstairs as soon as we can! It's Revestire, by the way, if you've never done..." but Hermione was way ahead of him, having Summoned her wand the minute he'd started shouting, and before long, the three were dry, warm and dressed in their robes once again. Two last wand waves transformed Hermione's casual robe into a close facsimile of her normal work-day suit and then drained the tub.
She turned to Lucius and asked, "Lower the wards on the room where we had tea, please, I'll set up in there."
"Lucius, ye dobber, mind lettin' me in on what's going on?" Walden said, as he shook his head to get water out of his ear. He still looked a bit disheveled and slightly punch-drunk. Hermione passed her wand over him to straighten up his hair and mustache, before swinging the wand over her own hair, pinning it in a neat, professional updo.
"That alarm is the one for my bloody parole officer, who is permitted by Magical Law to show up whenever he bloody wants for an inspection," Lucius said. "If you'd hold both our hands, my dear," he asked. "Can't afford any mistakes this time." The trio then turned on the spot and reappeared in the ad hoc meeting room. On a magically-enlarged table, Hermione created a stack of books and papers and several quills in a little cup, while the elves appeared, bearing another tea tray. Lucius dashed away to the front door, and Walden started to sit down next to Hermione.
"Er, you'd better sit over there, across from me, sorry," she said, looking quite sheepish, as Walden silently complied. He'd just reached for a cup of tea when Lucius returned to the room. Both Walden and Hermione stood up and observed the three uniformed Aurors who entered behind him.
The first of them immediately grinned widely. "Hello, Hermione, how are you doing today?" Harry Potter said. "I didn't expect to see you here!"