A/N. I think Lucius Malfoy is sexy. Do I think he's a good man? Definitely not. However, he is sexy. No. Denying. It.
I know I said only Mondays... well, I'm weak and I wanted to update Thursday and make an announcement saying "twice a week we'll update, Thurdays and Mondays" but that didn't happen so... here you go.
I honestly don't know what's happening to my brain.
I'm so happy about the positive feedback this story is getting. Thank you so much for every single review and I hope you continue to R&R! I appreciate every last one of you.
...~oOo~...
Chapter Three: Keeper of the Keys
It was the next day, while Hermione was putting Draco down for a nap and reading him a story that Narcissa walked in, quite loudly with her heels. Hermione suppressed a sigh. Draco had been very close to sleep, but now that the door had opened and his mother was there, it set him back completely. Draco was now wide awake, standing in his crib, looking at his mother expectantly.
"Hello, my love," Narcissa said, lifting Draco from his crib and holding him tightly to her chest. "And hello, Hermione."
"Hello, Narcissa. Anything I can do for you?" Hermione asked, closing the book and putting it back on his shelf.
"Actually, yes. Tonight a cousin of mine, Matilda Rosier, is having a dinner party and we've been invited, you included. It's not the norm, I realize, but the other governesses attend and watch over the children while the ladies chat," Narcissa said. She put a light kiss on her son's cheek, careful not to rub off any of her lipstick, and put him back down in his crib. "So be ready by six. Wear something nice and dress Draco in something green, its enhances his eyes color." She turned and exited without another word.
Until that moment, Hermione had been confident that by isolating herself in Malfoy Manor, she could avoid most of the issues that came with time travel, but now that Nacrissa wanted her at a public party... who knew what kind of people would be there? People Hermione knew from school - their parents, perhaps?
This was a problem, but not one she could avoid. She couldn't afford getting fired. She needed to get back in that library to find the book that sent her there. She was making little progress in finding the keys, but she had already identified the majority of the wards on it and the runes. It was heavy protection, but if she found the keys, then the rest was easy enough to deal with.
...
"Draco, I know you hate it - trust me, I don't like dressing up either - but you're mother is very right. You are positively striking in green," Hermione said to him as she buttoned up his silky soft baby Oxford shirt. Draco was wiggling with an unhappy look on his face, a scowl far too identical to his father's, and smacking at Hermione's hands.
"No hitting," she told him firmly. She finished the last button, straightened the shirt and looked at the frowning Draco. Little black trousers, a lovely green shirt, and a pair of black leather shoes. He was too adorable. "You are one handsome boy," Hermione told him. "It's a good thing you get Sorted into Slytherin, because none of the other House colors do you any justice. Now, come on. Mum and Dad are waiting."
She planned on having him walk down to the foyer with her, but Draco tucked his little arms around her neck and held on tight. How could she say no to that? With a sigh and a smile, Hermione hoisted Draco off the ground, ignoring the fact that it wrinkled his clothes and walked him down through the house and to the foyer.
In front of the door, Lucius was helping his wife into a beautiful coat lined with ermine fur that made her look positively regal. Narcissa was dressed in an ice blue dress that draped elegantly around her neck and had a pretty big opening in the back. She looked like an old-fashioned movie star once she was wrapped in her coat, standing tall in black pumps.
And Lucius, as always, dressed like a prince. Silk shirt, waistcoat, jacket with silver buttons, emerald cuff links, shiny shoes.
Hermione was living with film stars. In that moment, she couldn't even find it in her to hate them - they were too beautiful.
She really needed to get out of this timeline before she started being jealous of a family of Death Eaters.
Alright, it was too late. She was jealous.
"Are you ready?" Narcissa asked, her eyes scaling Hermione's ensemble with doubt.
Hermione looked down. She was wearing a cream colored, empire-waisted, knee-length dress with black ballet flats. She'd pulled her hair back into a chignon and had thought she looked nice... but Narcissa obviously thought she was insufficient and Hermione was starting to agree.
"I can change," Hermione offered slowly.
Narcissa looked like she was about to tell her to do just like that when Lucius said, "Nonsense. You look lovely."
Narcissa pursed her ruby red lips, disagreeing with only a look.
"Thank you," Hermione said, feeling her face get warm.
"Fine," Narcissa said with a sigh. "Let's go. Hermione, fetch Draco's coat from the closet and meet us by the Floo."
Less than ten minutes later, Hermione was in a ballroom full of people she did not know. Which was good for a few reasons. If she didn't know any of them, then the timeline was safe. It also meant no one went out searching for her. Hermione just wasn't in the mood to be sociable.
She kept a close eye on Draco, following him wherever he went, which was often with the other children. It took her a half hour to realize a number of other women were doing the same. Then it hit her - the other nannies. All watching the children.
A woman popped up at Hermione's right, giving her quite a fright.
"I'm Heather," the woman said with a big grin, holding out her hand. "You must be the Malfoys' new governess. We've been so eager to meet you."
"Er... we?" Hermione said, blinking.
"Us, of course," a voice came from behind her. Hermione turned and gave another start. There were now four women surrounding her, all very close, and with different looks on their faces.
Heather was a pretty young girl, maybe a year or two older than Hermione with gorgeous blonde hair, like cornsilk, all curled and pulled into a fancy ponytail. Her eyes were an inviting periwinkle and she wore a sunflower yellow dress.
The woman who spoke behind her jutted out her hand. This woman was likely in her thirties, with chin-length brown hair and laugh-lines. "I'm Dalia," she said. "I'm the Bulstrodes' governess. And this is Theresa, who works for the Crabbes and Gertie, who's been working for the Greengrasses for almost twenty years now."
Theresa looked to be twenty-five with black hair and very tan skin, and Gertie was much older. In her fifties, Hermione would guess, with plenty of grey hair and a round belly. Gertie had that scowling look that people often associated with old nannies.
"And I've just taken up with the Rosiers," Heather added.
"Oh, how nice," Hermione said, unsure of what else to say.
"She won't be with them much longer thought," Theresa said with heavy Spanish accent and a giggle.
Healther frowned. "Don't start that."
"Why not?" Hermione asked. "Why won't you be staying with the Rosiers?"
"Mr. Rosier has a habit of becoming a bit too... friendly with his governesses," Dalia said, shaking her head. "If you know what I mean. And every time, his wife fires the woman the instant she catches wind of it."
Hermione's eyes got big.
"But I'm smarter than that," Heather told Hermione confidently. "Dalia doesn't give me enough credit. Jeremy has flirted with me plenty of times and I barely notice it."
Theresa, Gertie, and Dalia all rolled their eyes and groaned.
"Jeremy? Jeremy?" Theresa said, accentuating each syllable. "Since when are you and Jeremy on a first name basis?" It sounded like base-ees.
Heather looked perfectly innocent. "He said it was okay if I called him by his first name."
Gertie shook her head then rattled something off in Dutch. Hermione stared at her for a long moment. Huh?
"Gertie is right," Theresa said. "It's not proper! Don't get cozy with him, Heather. You're there to teach his children and that's it. Hermione doesn't call Mr. Malfoy Lucius, right, Hermione?"
Hermione swallowed. How did they know her name? "O-of course not," she said, shaking her head.
Gertie said something else in Dutch and patted Hermione on the head. Hermione took this to mean "smart girl".
"Thank you," Hermione said, though she wasn't sure exactly what she was thanking her for.
And for the rest of the evening, the herd of governesses gossiped like school girls and trailed their charges. It reminded Hermione a lot of sharing a dorm with Lavender and Parvati, so she often tuned them out and kept her focus on Draco... who bit a small, chubby girl about his age.
"Draco!" Hermione said rushing forward, disengaging herself from the tight ring of nannies, and shifting down on her knees next to him. "That is unacceptable! Apologize!"
Draco pursed his lips angrily and huffed through his nose defiantly, glaring right back at Hermione.
"You do not bite," Hermione told him, wagging her finger. "It is inappropriate. Say sorry to her, now." Hermione read somewhere that telling a child that something they did was "bad" was counter-productive and too negative. It suggested "inappropriate" as an acceptable replacement, which became Hermione's favorite phrase when Draco misbehaved.
Draco turned back to the girl with that same frown. Emotionlessly, he grabbed her fat hand - the one he'd bit - and kissed it quickly before turning and running away as fast as he could through the throngs of people. He knocked into one woman's knees, causing her to drop her wine glass, spilling white down the woman's no doubt expensive silk dress.
"I'm so sorry," Hermione said as she chased Draco, trying to shoulder her way through them as politely as possible. "Sorry, sorry, sorry," she kept saying while more people scowled and gasped at her pushing through them.
Once she was, thankfully, in a gap between groups of people, Hermione took a deep breath of the air and spun around in a circle, hunting for any sign of Draco. There was none. That was one sneaky little boy.
And so she decided an adult view wasn't good enough. Hermione dropped to her knees, earning a few gasps among the women watching, and resumed her pursuit of Draco on her hands and knees. She was nothing if not dedicated.
And from the floor-view, Hermione saw between the legs of a dozen people to where Draco was making his way under the buffet table. Ah-hah! There the little bugger was.
She made her way, sliding her way on hands and knees, to the tables. Her bare knees hurt on the hard tile, but pushed on. She ducked under the tablecloth. It was darker under the tables, but she spied Draco right away. He was sitting on his bum with the whole bowl of cream puffs in his lap.
"Caught you!" Hermione said victoriously.
Draco looked up at her with wide grey eyes, his cheeks stuffed, lips covered in chocolate, and sticky fingers. Just as she reached out for him, another pairs of hands swooped him out from under the table.
That's... weird.
Hermione lifted the edge of tablecloth and looked up at the culprit.
Lucius Malfoy had his squirming son in his arms and was looking down at her with mild amusement.
Hermione was suddenly very embarrassed. Determined to regain some of her dignity, Hermione sheepishly smiled while slowly getting out from under the table, standing up slowly. She cleared her throat and brushed off her dress.
"I must say, I have never attended a dinner party with entertainment better than your little display just now," he admitted, smirking. His silvery eyes glinted dimly.
Clearing her throat again, Hermione said, "I'm sorry."
"No worries, that hilarious," Lucius said. "Though, I'm afraid my wife will probably disagree. But every man in the room appreciated it, I'm sure."
Hermione narrowed her eyes but held back a laugh. Pressing a hand to her forehead, she snorted and said, "I must have looked ridiculous."
"Yes, you did. Lovely and ridiculous."
Ignoring the fact that he'd once again called her "lovely", Hermione asked cordially, "Are you enjoying the party?"
"Not even a little," he said dryly.
"Oh... I would offer you a cream puff for your troubles, but your son has eaten them all," Hermione said.
Lucius smirked then. "I think I'll be fine with this," he said holding up his glass of scotch. He was surprisingly good at that - balancing his wiggly son on one hip and holding his drink in the other. It was obvious what his priorities were.
"I'll take him if you'd like," she said, holding out her arms.
"No, no, his hands are filthy and I'd hate for him to ruin that dress," Lucius said, his eyes gliding down her body once more. "Especially when I'm looking forward to seeing you wear it again."
"Careful or I'll report you to the Wizard Resources Department," Hermione only half-teased.
Lucius raised an eyebrow. "And who might that be?"
"Your wife."
"You're funny, did you know that?" Lucius drawled, setting his son on the floor. Draco instantly took off and Hermione turned to chase him again, but Lucius caught her elbow. "Don't worry about him. There are plenty of wards on this place. He's probably rushing off to his mother as we speak."
"But -"
"Do you realize we've never had a conversation? Let us remedy that," he said, taking a flute of champagne from a waiter's tray as it passed. He handed it to Hermione. "Tell me something about yourself."
Hermione paused and looked around. "Er... Are you sure Draco is okay?"
Lucius pointed across the hall. Draco was already playing with the other kids again. He then motioned, rather imperiously, for her to continue.
"Um... I... like... books," Hermione said. Her heart was hammering. She should not be talking to Lucius. It might affect the timeline, he might compliment her again which made her frazzled, he might give the other nannies reason to gossip about her...
So many reasons to abandon this conversation.
"What sort of books?" he prompted, raising an eyebrow.
"Any sort of books, really," she said with an indelicate shrug. "Fiction, non-fiction, wizard, Muggle, textbook, novel... you name it."
"You know, we have quite an extensive library at the Manor," he said casually, sipping from his glass.
Hermione's heart jumped and she forced her expression to remain neutral. "Oh, really?" she said, trying to sound only mildly interested.
"Oh, yes," Lucius said. "The Malfoys have been collection unique texts since the Middle Ages."
"That sounds fascinating. Perhaps I could... take a look sometime?"
Lucius hesitated. "I'm afraid not. You see, there are very... delicate scrolls and such in there, a long with a few very dangerous books. It wouldn't be safe."
Hermione nodded, but a plan instantly formed in her head. She needed to get in the library. She was almost positive Lucius had the keys. If she could coax Lucius into letting her in the library, then she wouldn't even have to deal with the wards themselves.
All this meant was tolerating Lucius's compliments and forging a... friendship of sorts. It would be difficult for Hermione to remain calm and not stress out over being in the Death Eater's presence, but Lucius seemed all too willing to talk.
Hermione took a sip of the champagne. It tingled in her mouth and she put on a smile. "So... tell me more about the Malfoys..."
Lucius smiled at Hermione's willingness to converse and carried on to tell her all about his lineage, a subject Hermione was sure he'd take to. She nodded at all the appropriate moments, and even got him to talk a bit more about their book collections.
If Hermione could befriend Lucius, she could very well have her ticket into the library in only a month.
Or, at least, that's what she hoped.
...~oOo~...
~ So Long And Thanks For All The Fish ~