Evil of me to leave you hanging like that. Real work pays the bills, alas, not this. Let's find out how Hermione handles her little meeting with Dolohov. Please review and tell me what you think! I'm at 26k words on this little story now, folks, and reviews make me post faster, because they make me happy. I also promise to finish this fic. I work on one at a time and will follow it until the end. Thank you!


He was taunting her, aware that she was remembering the last time they had met in a duel. Hermione's senses were instantly on point, and she felt rather than heard another one behind her, turning and shooting a jinx at him as Dolohov circled toward her. Two of them, both firing rapidly, and Hermione's brain clicked into high gear. She was holding her own and almost took out the other swarthy man when a slicing hex grazed her left arm and she backed against a tree. A third assailant had clipped her, and now she was well and truly fighting for her life.

She could see the malice in Dolohov's eyes and refused to give up, although they were closing in now. Just when she thought one of them was going to grab her, a sponge knees curse hit her opponent, causing Dolohov and the witch with the bright green hair to whirl and confront her unexpected defender—Lucius Malfoy.

"Causing more trouble, Miss Granger?" Lucius drawled, firing with the rapidity for which he was famed as he worked quickly to her side.

"It found me I assure you," she said, barely missing the witch who had revealed herself partially in the shadows of the leafy oaks.

"Defending a Mudblood, Lucius? You have dropped to the gutter, haven't you?" Dolohov snarled, and Lucius sidestepped the curse thrown and fired back with a leg locker curse that caused the other man to stumble slightly. The crack of disapparation was heard, but rather than retreating apparently their assailants had assessed their chances of success and summoned another assailant. It was now four against two as a tall wizard joined the fray, and Hermione found herself in the unthinkable position of fighting hard alongside Lucius Malfoy.

"This grows dangerous, Miss Granger," he said to her, "it's time to move things along." So saying, he stepped boldly away from her and threw the first Unforgiveable of the skirmish. "Crucio!"

Lucius Malfoy was not a known duelist for nothing. He had blocked a slicing hex and thrown the crucio at the tall wizard so quickly and underhandedly that it was little wonder he dropped, writhing in agony on the ground.

Dolohov's eyes narrowed and he fired two hexes in rapid succession at Lucius and Hermione, then nodded to the wizard who was panting on the mossy ground, Lucius releasing the curse to deal with the witch that was working toward Hermione. "Entomorphis!"

The witch only managed to partially block the dark hex, and her wand dropped uselessly from the hairy insectoid leg that had replaced it. Hermione, having blocked a stunner from the swarthy wizard to Lucius' right, took advantage of Dolohov's split second attention to slash him with a slicing hex, a line of red appearing across his chest and upper arm.

"This isn't over," Dolohov snarled, and wordlessly he disapparated with a crack, the others cracking away after him. Breathing hard, Lucius turned to Hermione to look her over.

"Other than that, are you all right?" Lucius asked, nodding to her bleeding arm.

"Yes, thank you," Hermione said, wincing as she took in the sight of the blood that was flowing freely from the wound, the blood tinged a strange purple color.

"That's Dark magic," Lucius said, quickly drawing a handkerchief and pressing it against the wound.

"You would know," Hermione muttered, and he fixed her with a cold look.

"I suppose it's acceptable to use dark curses to save your life, but not dark magic to heal you." A muscle in his temple jumped, and Hermione knew he was angry and she was out of line.

"I apologize. I'm not… I'm sorry for being a hypocrite." Hermione looked him square in the eyes, shame flushing her cheeks. Lucius was somewhat mollified but still pissed off about the whole situation.

"I can fix it, but it will require some of my own blood. Will that bother you?" His tone was arch, but underneath it Hermione could hear—a frisson of worry? What was that about?

"And if I refuse? I don't have particularly fond experiences of blood magic," she said darkly, and Lucius winced, knowing she referred to her captivity in his home.

"It's that or St. Mungo's," he said, "And they would do the same thing, but with more paperwork." The attempt at a joke was appreciated, and Hermione tried to put a brave face on it.

"Merlin save us from that," she said, meeting his eyes again with her own. He could see that she was scared, and it brought back very unpleasant memories that he viciously shoved aside. Lucius took pity on her and sliced his palm cleanly with a small knife that was whisked out of sight again so quickly that Hermione was not sure where he had it secreted on his person.

"May I?" Lucius asked, pointing to the laceration. She nodded and prepared herself for the sting and burn as he healed the wound wordlessly, the flesh stitching back together with a flash of white and the drops of his blood. When he was finished he wordlessly healed his own palm with his wand, then turned his attention to the woods.

"What were you doing here?" Hermione asked him as he looked around at the clearing, the expression on his face a mixture of anger, fear, and calculation. "Did you follow me?"

Lucius looked back to her and his contempt was clear on his face. "Of course I followed you, you foolish girl! I have tried to tell you, but you persist in your delusional fiction that your work has no further repercussions beyond the damage you've already caused to the institution of marriage." He gripped her arms in both of his hands and shook her slightly. "Don't you see that this has the potential to cause another rift in the wizarding world? One too large to be healed? Already the Ministry is being deluged with owls from other countries, asking for the means to perform this testing. What do you think it will do to their wizarding communities? To the Squibs and Muggle-borns?"

"I hadn't thought…" Hermione began as he shook her again.

"Yes, I know! You damn well didn't think, and now all those nasty societal problems with integrating Muggle-borns into the wizarding world and Squibs back out to the Muggle one have been thrown into disarray! Interested parties on all sides are keen to rework the entire social order!" Lucius forced himself to let her go, and walked away for a pace before he turned back to her in anger.

"It does not require a Voldemort to threaten the entire wizarding world, Granger. Simply one piece of very important information, which you have unwittingly provided. Damn it, girl, this is far beyond you now. You've painted the biggest target on your back since Harry deflected the Avada! And you still don't see all the ramifications!" He had come back to her and grasped her hard, his face cold like granite and a plethora of emotions flashing through his eyes.

Hermione stiffened and felt herself growing angry. "What sort of ramifications? Yes, people will be forced into arranged marriages, but surely that is better than the alternative…"

"Stupid Mudblood!" Lucius forced himself not to dig his fingers into her arms. "Slavery? Muggle-wizard wars? An imposed caste system? Why do you think we have so many departments dedicated to Muggles? How was a Muggle-born Registration Commission so easy to sell? For the brightest witch of your age, you really are thick!"

"What can we do about it?" Hermione whispered, visions of wizarding wars spanning multiple continents flashing through her mind, leaping to life in a far more vivid reality than the dry lectures Binns had imparted at Hogwarts.

"We?" Lucius laughed, then suddenly sobered, his eyes distant and cool. "We will focus on keeping you alive, Miss Granger, and I will seek to minimize the path of damage."

He straightened his robes and Hermione looked at the mess that was her formerly pristine blouse. Lucius glanced at her and tossed out, "It's not worth trying to repair. Transfigure some robes for yourself. I will escort you the rest of the way into Hogsmeade. We should move along."

"Yes, of course," Hermione said automatically, then stubbornly set about repairing the blouse. She'd be damned before she took Lucius' suggestion to toss it. He may have enough money to throw around, but she did not. He watched her with irritation and finally turned his own wand toward her, delicately slicing off the last few torn and bloodstained ruffles.

"There. That's much better anyway," he huffed, and Hermione had to concede that he was correct. The blouse was simpler but charming, the blood spatters removed.

"You don't have to accompany me. I am sure that it will raise enough of a ruckus when I tell my friends what just happened."

Hermione backed away when he made to grab her again, and ignored the chill that raced down her spine as his eyes hardened. "You will tell NO ONE about this, Miss Granger. The less said about it, the better—for once the sharks smell your blood in the water, they will chase you down relentlessly. Do not advertise your precarious situation by foolishly involving the Auror Division."

"If I ask them, Ron and Harry will not tell anyone," Hermione retorted, her own temper flaring dangerously. White hot anger flashed across Lucius' face, and he shoved her against a tree, imprisoning her with his own body, sparks shooting from his wand. Hermione clenched her own wand tighter, but Lucius' eyes warned her not to try it.

"You will listen to me for once in your life, Mudblood. If I have to compel a Wizarding oath from you on the subject, we can take care of that right now."

He noted the stubborn set of her jaw and pointed his wand at her face. "Which shall it be? Voluntary or involuntary?"

His body was heavy against hers and Hermione just wanted to get away from him. "Voluntary."

"Fine." Lucius grabbed her left hand in his own and pointed his wand at their joined hands. "You will promise not to speak of this incident unless I give you permission to do so. Do you agree?"

"Yes." The thin blue line snaked briefly around both of their hands and it was done.

Lucius abruptly dropped his knee from its place between her legs, and Hermione shakily smoothed her skirt where it had been crinkled upward slightly by Lucius' leg. He watched her and when she was finished, he said, "Now I will escort you into the Three Broomsticks and we will pretend I delayed you at work. I am well enough used to playing the villain, and to prove it, I will buy you a drink to show that you hold no hard feelings on the matter. And I will watch you the rest of the evening. I will know if you breathe even a hint of this event."

"You don't own me. I only work for you," Hermione snapped, and Lucius leaned closer, his mouth centimeters from her own.

"Tell me, Hermione, have you peeked at your slips of matches?"

The apparent non sequitur took her by surprise, and she was more flustered by that than Lucius' nearness, she realized dimly. It must have been shock setting in, as Lucius could perceive her pupils were dilated and she was trembling slightly, although he doubted she realized it. Courageous as ever, she truthfully said, "Of course not. My own marital prospects are the least of my concerns at this point!"

Lucius looked briefly at her mouth, then met her eyes again. "I think you're in for a greater shock than you realize, Granger." He seemed to recollect himself and pulled back smoothly as if he hadn't been pressed against her, intimidating her into compliance with his wishes. He held his arm out.

"Shall we?"

Hermione weighed the cost of defying him against the opportunity to speak in private with Ginny in the loo and decided that acquiescence was the safest path at the moment.

"Of course."


"Blimey, Harry, is Hermione on the arm of Lucius Malfoy?" Ron said incredulously from their booth in the duskier shadows at the rear of the Three Broomsticks.

"She definitely is, I can see the whiteness of his blonde hair," Lavender said, taking Ron's hand and squeezing it. Her improved eyesight was one of the few benefits from being bitten.

"That explains why she is late," Ginny said, gesturing to her empty glass. "Would you mind, pet?"

"Not at all, love," Harry replied, standing and making his way to the bar, where Hermione was standing stiffly next to Malfoy.

"About time you showed up Hermione," Harry said cheerfully, catching Rosmerta's eye. "Two more butterbeers, please."

"Yes, I delayed Miss Granger at the office," Lucius said, a coolly pleasant expression on his face as he touched Hermione's elbow and picked up the two glasses of elven wine which Rosmerta had just deposited. "To the surprises of tomorrow, Miss Granger."

The light caught on the cut crystal of the goblets. Of course Rosmerta knew better than to serve anything to Malfoy in an ordinary pewter tankard.

Hermione's tone was ironic as she replied, "May they be anything other than what you expect, Lucius," and then she swallowed a large mouthful of the wine. "If you'll excuse me, it's time I joined my friends."

Lucius nodded, a sardonic expression on his face, then settled in at the bar to keep an eye on Miss Granger. It would be a long evening, from the looks of it. Strangely this was not an unpleasant prospect. The dirty looks thrown his way by Weasley and Granger herself provided an amusing counterpoint to the dark murmurings of the wizards and witches that gave him a wide berth. It was unsurprising that none of those whom he considered friends were to be found in such an establishment at this time of day.

After about two hours, Harry pulled Hermione aside as she made to go to the loo with Ginny. "What's really going on, Hermione?"

His green eyes were sincere and worried, and Hermione resisted the urge to look in her boss' direction. To hell with him and what he thought, her friends were concerned about her.

"It's just that my work has ruffled a few feathers, Harry. Lucius is concerned that I haven't thought through the consequences."

"That doesn't explain why he feels it's suddenly necessary to keep an eye on you so blatantly, Hermione. Something has happened and you're not telling me the whole truth, and I don't like that." Harry's expression was serious and Lucius' laser-like focus was intent on her as they chatted quietly in the entrance to the hall toward the loos.

"The matches are going out in two days, Harry. A lot of people are nervous. We haven't let anyone peek at the results, and tensions are high. Can you blame Malfoy for being concerned? Who knows what someone might think to do…" Hermione trailed off as Lucius had appeared behind Harry's shoulder.

"Miss Granger, a private word?" His tone was clipped and brusque, but the look in his eyes said quite clearly exactly what he was going to say and probably do.

"Back off, Malfoy," Harry said with some heat. "She's your employee, not your fucking slave."

"What an interesting prospect, Mr. Potter. I assure you there are some in the Wizarding community who would appreciate a return of that particular custom, but surprisingly I am not among them. Granger?"

"I'd like Harry to hear whatever you have to say," Hermione said doggedly, raising her chin up a notch and staring down her boss. "Surely you agree it's prudent under the circumstances, what with your odious past."

Lucius had to give her marks for the Slytherin nature of such a request. "A private room then. Two minutes."

He turned and strode to the counter, procuring a key and secreting it so quickly that no one noticed.

"What the hell…?" Harry started, but Hermione waved her hand to silence him as Ginny came back down the hall.

"Why are you so cross?" Ginny asked, her first check of Harry's expression revealing that her husband was none too happy.

"What did the Ferret Father want, eh?" Ron asked as he came over, Lavender on his arm.

"Oh, shut up, all of you!" Hermione said crossly. "Harry, now! The rest of you, stay here! We'll be right back."

Harry kissed Ginny quickly and turned to follow Hermione down the hall to the private dining rooms that Rosmerta hired out on an as-needed basis. The tingle of magic on the right door let them cross the threshold, the wards seamlessly reforming themselves behind them as the door closed. Lucius was impatiently awaiting them, a nervous energy thrumming through him.

"A Wizarding Oath, Potter, that nothing we say here will leave this room. Not even to your wife."

"Fine," Harry said brusquely. "And I'll be having your word that you'll protect Hermione after all the matches go out."

Lucius laughed briefly, the sudden flash of ill-timed humor on his face a bizarre moment in the unexpected tableau. "Fine, Potter."

They walked over to him and Lucius grabbed Harry's hand and Harry had his wand at the ready, pointing to their clasped hands. The streams of blue from their wands wrapped around their wrists, and Hermione cleared her throat. Her own left wrist tingled, and Lucius nodded permission so she began.

"I was attacked today in the woods on the path from Hogwarts to Hogsmeade. Lucius followed me and helped fight them off. It was Dolohov, Harry. But who the other wizards and witch were, we don't know."

She flashed her eyes again to Lucius, who added, "Certainly none of them were former Death Eaters. Perhaps hangers on, but Dolohov was in charge."

Harry was instantly alert, the Auror in him snapping to the fore. "How many?"

"Four. At first it was just Dolohov and another one, but when it became obvious to them that I wasn't an easy target, a third joined in."

"A Protean charm?"

"I presume so. I was a bit engaged at the time, and I didn't know how much longer I was going to hold them off, frankly." A shiver ran through her and Hermione again unwittingly met Lucius' eyes. He cleared his throat and stepped in.

"It was obvious to me that the ramifications of Miss Granger's work have riled those in certain circles. Add to that the fact that the Ministry is taking active steps to counteract the effects, and it was inevitable that some would seek to extract their revenge on the witch that was responsible for this calamity…at least in their view of things."

"And you expect me to believe that with your connections in those circles, you had no knowledge of this attack? That you were conveniently nearby to defend her, a Muggle-born whom you've always hated?" Harry's tone was steely, but Lucius met his gaze unflinchingly.

"Ask Hermione herself. I warned her that this was likely to occur." Lucius' tone was cool and his posture was negligently casual, but those who knew him would recognize it for a dangerous pose. He was like a panther, apparently at ease but in truth ready to strike at the least provocation. "She's damn lucky I've never been one to ignore my instincts on such matters."

Harry snorted and Hermione spoke to cover the discomfort. "I am glad that you did not."

Turning to Harry, she continued, "It was only when Lucius showed up that the fourth one arrived. It was dirty fighting—you know what I mean, Harry, really ugly stuff, and Lucius got two of them down while I sliced Dolohov. That was when they decided to retreat, and we were able to get away."

Harry was thinking hard, and Lucius snorted to himself. "Don't strain your cerebrum, Potter, on my account."

Harry ignored him, then said slowly, "Let me see your wand."

"Beg pardon?" Lucius said with a sneer, and Harry held out his hand.

"If you used an Unforgiveable, then the proof is in your wand. Now, I could leave it and let your enemies use it to frame you for some other nasty deed that they are doubtless committing right now, or you could let me do my job and protect my friend at the same time."

Lucius raised an eyebrow at this unexpected gesture of munificence, but handed over the curly maple wand.

"Priori incantato," Harry said in a business-like tone, and after two darker but legal curses heard the familiar tones of Malfoy's "Crucio!" He looked up to meet Hermione's eyes, who shrugged one shoulder before sliding her eyes away. Lucius was unrepentant, that much was clear from his stance, but Hermione's rendition of the attack had made it obvious by her obscure references that she felt it had been necessary. Harry sighed and used a nonverbal "Damnatio memoriae" to erase the record of the spell instead of the more common "Deleo".

"Don't let it happen again," Harry said, flipping the wand expertly back to Lucius.

"Do you really want me to lie to you, Auror Potter?" Lucius sneered, and Hermione pushed them apart.

"Enough of this. Harry, you keep your ear to the ground and find out what is being done about the rising tide of ill will regarding the Ministry's directives. People are more willing to talk to the Chosen One than an ex-Death Eater. Perhaps a visit to Luna is in order?"

Hermione pivoted and faced her nemesis-turned-odd ally. "And you. I know you aren't telling me something." She paused and took in Lucius' body language. "Several somethings. Arrgh, you are the most—infuriating! Irritating! Obnoxious!"

"Yes, yes, I'm well aware of your feelings Granger. The fact remains that you are an irritating little Mudblood with no sense of how the Wizarding world actually works, and still less sense of how to handle this. Fortunately or unfortunately for you, I am also involved in this clusterfuck—and as such, I assure you, I will remain involved until it is resolved to my satisfaction."

Harry turned to Lucius, suspicion clouding his face. "This isn't your style, Malfoy. Usually you run and dodge anything so sticky and messy. Why are you still here?"

"My reasons are my own, Potter. May I assume you will see that Miss Granger is safely returned to her home this evening?"

"You insult me to even ask that," Harry said as Hermione added, "I can take care of myself, Lucius!"

"I know, Potter. That's why I do it." Lucius' tone was pettily condescending. Bowing shallowly to Hermione, Lucius left the room swiftly without even a nod to Harry.

"Arrogant bastard," Harry said, and Hermione folded her arms across her chest.

"Of course he is. I just wish I knew what it is he won't tell me. That worries me more than any Dolohovs in the corner."