Good evening! I am caught up in work at last and the rest of this chapter poured out of me today. Work stress should be easing for a bit by mid-week so perhaps another chapter by Friday. I wanted to do a few more personalized review responses:
Alucardfan: thanks for the compliment! I'm glad you enjoy my writing.
arabellagrace: Yes, Lucius is a master at changing the subject, as well as double entendres. I think that's why we love him so.
bushyhairedamericangirlnerd: Glad I'm giving ya something different!
butterflykiss: Thanks for posting a review! I love hearing that someone is enjoying the story. :)
articcat & KEZZ: You both love every chapter! Thanks. ;)
viola: Indeed I think Hermione is wise to recognize her education is an asset to use like a scalpel as appropriate.
bownbey: Hermione is nobody's doormat, I think we all agree. She is cautious but self-aware. I think this will become more evident as the story progresses, just as it would unfold for a young woman in her situation as she gains confidence in her changed circumstances.
zeeksmom: They are very well-suited...how long will it take them to realize it? ;)
AlesiaG: You always pick up on the details...hehe, I love that in your reviews! Yes, that was deliberate...Freudian slip?
SilentLioness: Trust issues! What kind of a roadblock and problem for this couple? Yep, could be big...stay tuned!
ruby: you will love this chapter as well then.
dragoon-gal: As a professor, I sternly tell you to STUDY. As a writer, I humbly say thank you and "tee hee" for distracting you!
Well the plot thickens, as they say...let's read about the end of this honeymoon! As always, I only own the plot and thank JKR for the wonderful world in which to play. Please read and review to let me know what you think!
Once they were well shod of the house, Lucius apparated them back to the country house.
"What a horrid woman. She is as I imagine Dolores Umbridge would be if she possessed a shred of intellect." Hermione had to crane her head to look at her husband, as she was still held tight in his arms.
"You did not win the bet, dear," Lucius said, his eyes flashing with amusement because she was not far wrong in her assessment of Thérèse.
"Neither did I lose it," she retorted, her eyebrow lifting in challenge. "This is not a bet to be easily won or lost at one tea, and you well know it."
Lucius tilted his head in acknowledgement of the point, but there had to be some concession he could wrangle from her. "Agreed. I will say you held your own admirably, although Voltaire? Really, I should dock points for your over-reliance on quotations. You owe some sort of forfeit for failing to charm her."
"It made my point, which is that I am well-educated, and it is possible for a Muggle-born to hold her own in intelligent and polite conversation despite extreme provocation. And you owe me a forfeit for acknowledging that I did hold my own with that harpy."
"Mmmm…what forfeit would you demand, witch?" Lucius asked, his hand idly wandering south from her waist.
Hermione was undeterred. "I demand that you concede that I will return to work after the baby is born."
"That is tantamount to over half the bet, given that you will spend more time being a mother than being pregnant. No, it is too much."
"I disagree. Not only was she not able to embarrass me, which was clearly one of her goals, she was also incapable of ignoring me. Furthermore, she was annoyed enough with my remarks that she tried to hex me—she is definitely not able to claim indifference or even apathy. That is far closer to gaining her respect."
"Hmmm, respect. What an interesting concept you have of what respect means. But let us address the subject which you would rather ignore—that of your forfeit, pet. You will tell me why you are willing to support my efforts to restrict intermingling between Wizard and Muggle."
Hermione let Lucius take her hand and draw her up the stairs. It was obvious what he had in mind, but Hermione was not averse to an evening spent in bed. However, the forfeits had to be settled first, otherwise he would have too much power in the aftermath. He was disgustingly clear headed even after several hours of lovemaking, and she had realized she was not.
"I will if you agree to my returning to work."
Lucius stopped running his hand up her skirt, his fingers tantalizingly close to the edge of her thigh high stockings. "Part-time only. And only until the Department of Magical Research hires additional qualified genetic researchers—then we will readdress the issue."
"You mean we will argue about it again," Hermione interjected, raising her eyes to meet his even though her hands continued unbuttoning his shirt. She pressed a soft kiss and then lick on his pectoral muscle, the small hiss of his breath a pleasing sign of her effect on him.
"Perhaps…a lot can change in a few months, Hermione," Lucius said, the sincerity in his tone grabbing her attention in a way that few things could.
"So we're agreed?" she asked, feathering kisses and licks across his collarbone, her impatient fingers shoving his shirt to the side.
"Oh yes, I agree..." Lucius drawled, pulling on her hair and causing it to spill out of her chignon. "Your forfeit afterward, dear…what on earth are you wearing?" His fingers had crept upward to discover only the smooth flesh of her bottom, and he gripped her and pulled her close.
"Thong," Hermione whispered in his ear before she kissed it.
"Decadent, delicious witch," Lucius said softly, claiming her mouth for a thorough kiss and tasting. "I'd like to see that. Now." He turned her around and flipped up the skirt of her dress, then moaned in approval at the high scallops of lace. "Oh yes, wife, I like your taste very much."
"Now, why are you willing to support a tightening of regulations for mixing between Muggle and Wizard?" Lucius asked, stirring Hermione from the blowsy come-down from her fourth spectacular orgasm.
"It's utterly insupportable that you could even think of such things after that kind of spectacular performance," Hermione groused, her cheek pressed against his chest. Lucius smiled and dropped a kiss on her hairline.
"Practice, darling. Pillow talk is far more entertaining when it's substantive."
"Only you would consider the aftermath of sex as the perfect opportunity to glean information," she complained pettily, and Lucius kissed her fingertips as she pulled herself to a sitting position, summoning a silk bedrobe to wear. He settled himself against the headboard next to her as she was clearly getting ready to talk, his fingers threading easily through her own.
"I think we both know that history is full of such examples, but I will not be distracted. Pay up, pet."
"I am concerned about the genetic research that is being carried out in the Muggle world. I am not certain I have identified all of the magical genes, but it is something that could be duplicated by a Muggle researcher. And there is already an incredible amount of genetic information being amassed about Muggles. Some countries are pursuing extensive databases—and that information could be harvested for magical purposes." Hermione's expression was worried and Lucius could see that his wife was finally bringing her considerable intellect to bear on the consequences of her genetic work instead of the work itself.
"Indeed. It is only the complete ignorance of the subject on the part of most wizards which is staving that off at present," Lucius observed, and Hermione's eyes flew to meet his own. "You cannot pretend to be surprised that my mind has already gone there and past it, woman, given what I said to you in Hogsmeade Wood."
Hermione felt cold and snuggled into Lucius' side despite the irritation of his tone. He took pity on her and brought her securely into his arms again, pressing one, then two, kisses on her as a form of reassurance. "Let us see what tomorrow brings. I don't doubt that we have at least one more meeting with an odious relation to endure in Paris before we go back home."
Hermione did not recall much from her only trip to Paris, which had taken place on a summer holiday when she was eight. She remembered lots of museums and buildings, but they had all blurred together somewhat, and she had not gotten any of the magical history that accompanied them. Touring them again with Lucius was a completely different experience, as he was full of amusing historical footnotes and explanations which accounted for some oddities in the Muggle history books.
The Malfoy townhouse was located in a decadent wizarding neighborhood (of course), and Hermione found the décor to be dreadfully ostentatious. Lucius perceived her wrinkled nose at one opulent epergne that was a dreadful mix of bronze and marble.
"The house was decorated by my grandmother. We never spent much time here, so Narcissa never took it on as a project, really. Our business interests are quite firmly fixed in England."
"Don't pee in your family's pond," Hermione remarked, and Lucius replied, "Naturally."
"Master, this came for you while you were out," the house elf Essy said, holding out a crisp piece of folded linen, a black wax seal with an embossed wasp sealing its envelope. Lucius slit the envelope with the proferred silver letter opener, then perused the contents briefly.
"Bertrand." Hermione's tone was flat, the invitation expected.
"Mmm. Apparently we are invited to a cocktail party. This evening, so no time to prepare you, which is obviously his aim."
Hermione started to point out that they could simply decline the invitation, but realized that Lucius' cousin would only perceive that as a sign of weakness. Instead she remarked, "Do I really require such preparation, Lucius?"
He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. "Of course not, pet. But let's let him think that for a short while, hmm?"
Hermione had to admit that the cocktails being served at Bertrand's little dinner party packed quite a bit of a punch. After Lucius had assured her that pregnancies were affected very differently in the wizarding world, she had been able to relax about enjoying the fruit of their vineyard. This, however, felt an entirely different level. Bertrand's caterers had a mixologist on staff to produce decadent cocktails using liqueurs that Hermione had never heard of before. She was nursing some type of coffee vodka based drink after feeling the effects of a tropical cocktail of some sort, and feeling a bit adrift. Lucius had stuck pretty close for the first hour of the socializing, but he had been pulled away with business discussions. She was quite obviously being snubbed, but she had not realized it long enough to adopt her habitual defensiveness before their host materialized at her elbow.
"Miss Granger…I beg your pardon, Madame Malfoy. I knew Cissy quite well, you will forgive me if it takes time to accustom myself to your recent marriage," Bertrand said apologetically, just the right touch of practiced whimsy in his expression.
"Naturally I understand, Monsieur Malfaille. It has only been three years since Narcissa was murdered in cold blood. I suppose to some a lifetime would not be long enough for my husband to mourn her death." Hermione was feeling the effects of cocktails, but she was not stupid.
"Well, it would be one thing if he had fallen in love, of course. You pardon me for speaking frankly?" Bertrand raised a perfectly sculpted dark eyebrow, his grey eyes providing the evidence of the Malfoy genes. Hermione nodded wordlessly and he continued, "But you of course expect that many families are waiting to see what happens from all of these forced marriages and genetic babble. The worry is that choice will be eliminated entirely for generations."
He paused again to sidle closer to Hermione, as if taking her into his confidence, when really he wanted to be able to observe the microeffects of his barbs. "There are some who claim this is all a ruse to viciously suppress the pureblood families."
"They may very well think that, but I couldn't possibly comment," Hermione offered through tight lips. There was no point in offering a reasoned defense of the Ministry's position or her own research—this was someone who was convinced her purposes were as base and cunning as their own. It was the lens through which they viewed the world, and she was not foolish enough to attempt to dislodge it.
"Oh, but I wouldn't expect such a savvy witch as yourself to issue any sort of claims regarding the subject, Madame!" Bertrand's expression of surprise was perfectly feigned and perfectly staged. Hermione had noticed that several others in the room were paying close attention to their conversation, and doubtless he would spin his expression to his own ends before the evening was ended.
"Then I wonder why you bother to take the trouble of mentioning it at all," Hermione responded, sipping her cocktail and affixing a perfectly polite and apparently warm smile to her face. They both knew better, but it would be difficult for him to spin her affability and they both knew it.
"It must be difficult to face such an elite society, Madame. After all, it's hardly within the realm of your experience, and my cousin is hardly the patient sort. I do hope you haven't let your feathers be ruffled by your treatment by some of my peers this evening," Bertrand observed, taking a sip from his own glass. Hermione did not fail to note that he said they were his peers, and not hers.
"Have I been treated differently?" Hermione asked with apparent innocence. "I merely observed a room full of people who are saying one thing and meaning entirely another, and avoiding speaking to those with whom they are uncertain to emerge victorious." She paused as if the thought had just struck her. "In point of fact, Bertrand, I'm rather surprised that you decided to approach me at all, given that context!" She sipped her cocktail and looked at him pointedly, and was rewarded with a subtle flush across his cheeks. She thought he might be about to strike her when Lucius reappeared at her side and interjected himself into the conversation.
"Ah, there you are pet. I believe it is time for us to be off. Do excuse us Bertrand, but of course you remember that this our honeymoon." Lucius placed his hand on the small of Hermione's back, well aware that her well-framed derriere had been the subject of more than one idle speculation as to the reasons for their hasty matrimony.
"Thank you so much for inviting us," Hermione said sweetly, setting her glass on a passing tray.
Lucius felt his ring heat and cursed violently under his breath. He grabbed Hermione's arm and she cut off her farewell abruptly, leaving Bertrand glaring daggers at them as he dragged her off into the night and apparated them instantly to their Paris house.
"Pack everything immediately. We are going back to England in five minutes."
"What's going on?" Hermione asked, but Lucius shoved her toward the stairs.
"I'll explain in a minute. I've heard from Draco, I need you to make sure you have everything you need, can you do that for me?"
The shock of Lucius' severe expression had cut through any haze Hermione felt from Bertrand's potent cocktails, and she nodded. "Of course. Is there anything in particular you need?"
"No pet, just be quick," Lucius said, and patted her bottom as she went up the stairs. He turned and went into the office, a dark expression overtaking his face as soon as he was sure she was on her way.
Not ten seconds later, Draco's head appeared in the fireplace. "The wards on the Manor have been attacked. I managed to get him in a full body bind and disarm him. He's under Astoria's wand right now."
"We'll be right there. Put him in the dungeon," Lucius said coldly, then snapped his fingers to summon Essy as Draco's head vanished from the flames. "After we leave, go to the country house and pack anything there. We will be gone for some time and I want everything of a personal nature removed from both houses."
The house elf nodded anxiously and disapparated with a subtle pop.
"What's happened?"
Lucius turned and saw that Hermione had changed out of her cocktail dress and was wearing a plain but elegant tunic and flowing pants, suitable for travel.
"Someone attempted to breech the wards on the Manor. We need to figure out what they were after. You left your work at the Manor, yes?"
Hermione nodded, a weight settling in her stomach like a lead balloon. At that moment Essy snapped back in, their luggage assembled in record time. "Yes. Let me think of what they could have been hoping to get…"
"Thank you Essy," Lucius said, then pulled the brass key from his pocket and tapped it with his wand, murmuring the portkey incantation. "We can continue this discussion later. Grab hold."
Hermione felt the familiar pull as the portkey whisked them home. Her brain whirled with the implications of the attempted theft. What did she have in her briefcase…the methodology for finding the gene, the progress on the epigenetic regulators, a subset of genetic profiles to use for base studies with arithmancy…
Lucius barked, "Twigs!" as soon as they popped into the foyer, tossing the key to the house elf and shedding his outer robes. "Madame will require dinner, as we have missed ours. I will be speaking with Draco for some time, but may require something later. Please see that I'm not disturbed."
"Yes, master!" The house elf popped out again, and Lucius hugged Hermione briefly and kissed her forehead before he pulled back to look at her.
"I need you to go through your work. Pull out anything that could be of interest. I will talk to Draco, then we can go through it together and see if we can pinpoint exactly what they were after."
Hermione nodded, her mind already working through the permutations. "Where should I set up?"
"In my study, pet. I don't care what you do to the desk, just give yourself enough space to see any patterns."
Hermione nodded and left to fetch her case. Lucius shook his head. Muggleborn…he mused. A pureblood would have summoned a house elf to fetch it. He shrugged…it was possible she had placed specific enchantments on the case, a prudent and sensible move under the circumstances. He needed to give her the benefit of the doubt more often. His thoughts took a darker turn and he dismissed his new wife forcibly from his mind. There was the matter of the wizard in the dungeon. Scowling, he made his way down, finding Draco waiting for him, an unconscious heap the offal representing himself as the wizard in question at his feet.
"I'm afraid he was coming 'round again, and I had to stun him," Draco offered lazily, performing a wordless Levicorpus so Lucius could get a good look at the unconscious man's face.
"I don't recognize him," Lucius said after a minute's careful study, meeting Draco's eye.
"That doesn't surprise me. Astoria has put Scorpius to bed and she knows better than to inform Hermione, but my best guess is that you have an hour tops before she thinks to ask about the thief."
"You're right," Lucius said grimly, then rolled up his sleeves. "Wake him."
"Renervate!" A flash of white had the man stirring with a groan, shackles chaining him spread-eagled before he could fully come to. When he did so, his eyes snapped to meet both Malfoys'. His gaze took in the faded Dark Mark on Lucius' forearm, and he sneered defiantly.
"Fallen from grace, you 'ave," the man sneered, his lower class East End accent thick and coarse.
"There's only one here who has fallen," Lucius said, twisting his wand to an angle that pointed downward at the man. "Crucio!"
Lucius held the curse for three minutes, the man's frame quaking and pulling violently against his restraints, his screams echoing soundlessly in the well-dampened dungeon. Draco looked away in disgust. Lucius didn't have time to indulge his son's sensibilities, however. He ended the curse, and the man quivered, then spat blood on the floor.
"You 'ave to turn me over to the Aurors eventually, unless you's willin' to give up this fancy lifestyle. Whateva' will they be sayin' about that, I wonder?"
Lucius smiled coldly. "They only check my last ten spells, cretin. Let's see what else makes you scream, shall we? Sectumsempra!"
The effects of Severus' curse were immediate and prolific. Draco watched wordlessly, prepared to heal the man when Lucius said so. When the blood loss had gotten to the point where the man was too weak to struggle, Lucius allowed the shackles to fall, the man's body slumping instantly to the floor. He maneuvered him to a sitting position and ruthlessly met the man's eyes, a murmured 'Legilimens!' gaining him access immediately to the man's mind. He shoved aside the man's thoughts and mental anguish over the torture, aware that Draco was already working to save the useless piece of shit's life while he rifled through his memories with the precision and speed that had been required under the Dark Lord's service. The wizard who had hired him had paid well and cloaked himself thoroughly, a Confundus charm always in place and plenty of Galleons at the ready to ensure cooperation and assistance with the task. The genetic profiles. Something else caught Lucius' eye in his images of the hiring wizard. He couldn't put his finger on it at the moment but knew he would have to revisit it later. Pulling out of the man's mind, he barked, "Firkin! The pensieve!"
The house elf appeared wordlessly with the item, and Lucius pulled his own newly formed memories of the man's mind from his own with a swiftness that belied the precision of his actions. When he was done, he nodded to Draco and wordlessly disapparated as Draco said, "Obliviate!"
The next half hour was spent retracing his spells with the portkey, and he was prepared for the 'escape', throwing a few hexes at the would-be thief, who was still stumbling from the effects of the obliviate Draco had easily cast on him. Lucius' mental tally was at 23 spells forward from the Crucio, and he nodded to Draco, who nodded back as he thrust his wand skyward to summon the Aurors.
"What the hell is going on?"
Lucius turned to see Hermione emerge from his study. He did a quick check to make sure he didn't have any blood on his shirt, then gestured for her to return to the study, shutting the doors on the scene of Draco with the again unconscious wizard who had foolishly taken on the task of breaking into Malfoy Manor.
"Draco found the prospective thief lurking about the periphery of the property. It was a minor skirmish, but he caught him. He has summoned the Aurors."
"We've been home for over forty minutes. No one in their right mind would have been lurking, Lucius. I demand to know what happened." Hermione's tone was frosty and Lucius knew that Draco had underestimated his wife's intelligence again. He crossed the room and offered her his wand.
"Check it if you doubt me, witch."
Her eyes narrowed as she took in his own clouded grey. "As if you are stupid enough to leave a trail. I know better Lucius. The truth, now!"
Lucius perceived that she would not be put off, and told her briefly that he had only questioned the man before they summoned the Aurors. Naturally he did not mention his methods, but he suspected she already knew to what level he would stoop when it came to protecting his family.
"That was a very foolish thing to do! Your name is already clouded, why would you give them an excuse to suspect you in any of this?" Hermione asked, her voice clenching with a mixture of anger and fear. Lucius walked over to her and gripped her arms firmly.
"Because I could look at his mind, Hermione, and see things that the Aurors won't recognize or understand. And I can't wait for them to pick up more broken pieces and try to put together the puzzle. I can't let it drag on and on without some forward progress."
"And I suppose getting yourself arrested is forward progress?" Hermione's voice was raised, her eyes snapping at him with a degree of passion that was unexpected.
"Would you care, wife?" Lucius asked mercilessly, pressing her weak points without scruples. He knew the witch cared for him, and although it was a low tactic he had only minutes before the Aurors would be demanding to question them both. He had to get her away from the subject of the prospective thief, and focused on the purpose of the theft.
"Damn you to hell, yes, I care!" she retorted hotly, her eyes shutting suddenly to try to prevent the twin tears that squeezed out anyway, to her damnation.
"I will not be arrested, Hermione," Lucius said softly, wiping away the tears with the pads of his thumbs. "Trust me."
Her hot brown eyes met his and he kissed her passionately, his lips moving over hers with reassurance and connection, asserting their bond. The knock at the door startled her, but Lucius clasped her firmly to him and turned his head to call, "Enter!" The Aurors had arrived.
